Take the guys from space-rock band Failure, Tool’s first bassist, and a kick-ass keyboardist and set them to deconstructing and rebuilding some of the finest rock songs of the 1970s and 1980s. The result is the band (and their eponymous 1995 release), Replicants.
It’s, well, a little weird. Therefore, I love it.
T (more…)
By Less Lee Moore
My introduction to The Garden was the video for “I Am A Woman.” I was immediately taken with the band’s sound and the low budget, nonsensical video that featured one member wearing women’s clothes and makeup. Music that sounds like Killing Joke and The Minutemen? Guys in drag? Sign me up.
The Life And Times Of A Paperclip is the Burger Records debut of the duo known as The Garden, 19-year-old identical twins named Wyatt (vocals, bass) and Fletcher (drums, drag) Shears, who started making music a couple of years ago. Although the album has 16 tracks, it’s only 19 minutes long, but the songs are so good, you’ll be happy to listen to it on repeat for a couple of hours at a time.
Trance is a very odd film. Director Danny Boyle has crafted a good career out of odd films, mostly because he refuses—admirably—to hew to one specific genre. Trance is particularly Boylean then, veering from genre to genre at a discombobulating pace.
There are a plethora of slashers from the ’80s, and a few stand out for numerous reasons. Some of these films have an iconic killer or a bizarre story line; some may have pretty sweet kills, or they may be so silly it’s funny. The Burning has none of these attributes, but it’s still awesome.
I’m ignorant when it comes to both chess and computer programming, but it doesn’t make Computer Chess any less brilliant (though I probably missed a few good jokes). It’s one of the most clever mockumentaries I’ve ever seen because it doesn’t present itself like a documentary but instead a mere document of a long weekend with a bunch of computer programmers and chess fanatics. It’s like an extremely dry yet avant garde Christopher Guest film. This is a wonderful thing.
Joyous news coming out of England . . . no, not the Royal Baby. We’ll finally be getting a definitive final cut of Robin Hardy’s classic thriller, The Wicker Man, this fall. This is the best Samhain treat fans of the Man could have ever hoped for. Restored footage, digital remastering, the whole nine yards. Hopefully, once the disc hits North American shores, the film will garner a new following. When most Americans think of The Wicker Man, their first thought is the Nicolas Cage movie. Fans of the original film bristle at this, especially because the remake was so thoroughly mocked and maligned, as if the presence of Nicolas Cage gives the entire story a bad name.
I implore you to reconsider.
I remember asking my mother when I was ten or so why there weren’t any good werewolf films. There were many vampire films and ghost stories, but werewolf films were a little scarce (still are in my opinion). My mother asked, “Have you seen Silver Bullet or The Howling?”
I later went to my All Movie Guide on my computer (before IMDb was being used regularly) and looked them both up. A few days later, my mother came home with a brown lunch bag and unceremoniously handed it to me. I held it for only a second, wondering what title it could be. My mother bought me VHS surprises all the time, in fact many still sit on my shelves, so I had an inkling of what was in the bag. Peeking inside, I saw The Howling on the Embassy label.
I don’t know what a Bulletboy is. I might have heard one of their songs late at night while driving. Someone might have mentioned the name at a bar. That seems right, because I was more than likely drunk. I don’t remember things so well when I’m drunk.
Here’s the funny thing.
Now that I’ve listened to a cover album by Bulletboys called, aggressively enough, Rocked & Ripped, I have to go back and listen to their entire catalog. If Bulletboys is as wacky, bluesy, and just flat-out good as this record is, I have some catching up to do.
Soft Metals is an appropriate name for a band whose members initially bonded over analog synthesizers. The music of Patricia Hall and Ian Hicks has a hypnagogic quality that’s both solid and liquid. Their newest album, Lenses, continues this liminal exercise with various lyrical visions of love and lust. How you interpret the songs can depend on your mood or point of view.
Rather than relying on harsh textures, the washes of synths on Lenses are mostly fuzzy, sometimes squishy, but rarely piercing, and even then, only when it’s most effective. Hall’s chilly, voluptuous delivery is appropriate for music that’s overflowing with icy sensuality, frequently sounding like the lost soundtrack to a sci fi film from the late ’70s or early ’80s.
If you’ve become a fan of Tim Presley’s loopy, psychedelic White Fence but haven’t yet heard the eponymous debut, you’re in luck. Drag Records offshoot God? has reissued the album on vinyl. It’s probably the best format for a White Fence album.