There’s a strong vein of Southern literacy that thrums through Robbie Fulks’s Upland Stories. The characters in these songs tread the same ground as Hazel Motes or Rufus Follet. They tell their stories with graceful turns of phrase and through Fulks’s wonderful twangy tenor: sometimes high lonesome, sometimes quietly, just in your ear.
Backwoods movies, or “Hicksploitation” films, are some of the meanest and dirtiest to exist in the cinema world. Titles like Poor Pretty Eddie, Gator Bait, and Psycho From Texas are cruel and just fucked up in general, making you want to take a bath right after you watch them. These films are way more shocking than extreme torture or gore baths.
My Father, Die is one of these types of films. It’s not often we get a modern Hicksploitation flick that looks beautiful but is so filthy at the same time. Usually these films are gritty and raw-looking which involves you more in the atmosphere surrounding the movie.
By Tyler Hodg
If you’re not a fan of Trailer Park Boys, then you can frig off.
The Sunnyvale crew is back for a tenth season, and third as a Netflix original, proving the little show that could, still can.
The Currys’ sophomore effort, West Of Here, is, as always, a family affair. The Currys are brothers Jimmy and Tommy Curry, and their cousin Galen. Together, they make easy, harmony-laden folky Americana. Their harmonies are incredibly lovely, close and fluid, and are a focal point for the group.
By Tim Murr
What the hell can I possibly say about Wolfmen Of Mars that I haven’t already said across multiple reviews? If you are new to Boston’s lycanthropic rockers, then allow me to introduce you to a kick-ass, groove-heavy, instrumental synth-rock unit inspired by 1970s and ’80s horror movie soundtracks. And they are prolific! Check their Bandcamp page; they’ve had 10 releases since 2013 and each one is a winner.
As I suspected, the death of the bren’in last week set off a ripple of events, and things in town really begin to heat up. For a fan, it’s episodes like this that truly make a show worth watching despite the slow parts.
Philadelphia, or rather the suburb of Wayne, is the hometown of both the on-screen and the real-life Abbi and is our setting for the episode. Broad City has always couched its identity in its portrayal of New York, as viewed through the weed-haze of Abbi and Ilana’s misadventures, as a character in and of itself. It leans heavily on urban culture—city-specific concepts like pop-up shops, pretentious art shows, and bodega breakfast sandwiches.
Well, not this time. Broad City’s journey into West (of) Philly manages to be a bizarre little slice of Abbi’s suburban life, and also somehow a twisted, and one might say unnecessary, dressing-down of JonBenet Ramsey. Uh, let’s circle back to that last thing.
As of this exact moment, I’m almost sure the majority of the population knows something major happened on The Walking Dead Sunday night. To say that my mind is blown would be an understatement. But it needs to be emphasized that the worst fears of the fans may not be realized. What you see on the first viewing tends to be inaccurate, as our minds like to use our worst fears against us and make us see things differently than when we go back and rewatch certain events. Recall when Glenn fell off the dumpster? This is just like that, optical illusions caused by shock.
By Tim Murr
As a fan of Daredevil since 1987, I’ve been a very happy boy this week watching Marvel’s Daredevil Season 2 on Netflix. While Season 1 was a solid show that honored the source material, this season uses the momentum of the first (as well as, in a roundabout way, the momentum of Jessica Jones and the Marvel Cinematic Universe) to propel our protagonists’ stories into a deeper, more dangerous, and ultimately weirder world.
WARNING: SPOILERS
By Tim Murr
I woke up with Witching Waves’ Crystal Café yesterday and jammed to it all morning over a pot of coffee while doing some writing. The album gives off a particularly spectacular energy that consumed my little kitchen and inspired my fingers to fly across the keys for hours. When my wife woke up and came in, her first question was if I writing a review or listening to an old band.