Interview: A Conversation With Director Steven DeGennaro

By Jeffery X Martin

When I first heard about the upcoming horror movie, Found Footage 3D, I immediately got on Twitter to make fun of it. Oh, don’t act like you’re shocked. The real surprise for me happened when the director of the movie, Steven DeGennaro, saw my tweet and engaged me in a civil conversation. That’s the inherent joy and terror of Twitter; you never know who’s reading. After talking to Steven for a while, I moved out of mockery mode and into curiosity. That led to research.

Steven DeGennaro previously directed the short film, First Date. For his new movie, he is working closely with horror icon Kim Henkel, co-writer of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. That certainly intrigued me. Then, I had the opportunity to talk to Steven DeGennaro at the end of last month.

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Waxing Nostalgic: Steely Dan, “My Old School”

By Jeffery X Martin

Seventies band Steely Dan has long been relegated to the dark cellars of soft rock FM stations, buried in long blocks of classic songs you can sing along to at work, brought to you by some weight loss clinic on the other side of town. It’s an unfair sentence for a band that combined rock and roll with jazz riffs and topped the charts doing it.

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Waxing Nostalgic: Nada Surf, “The Plan”

By Jeffery X Martin

Music in the Nineties wore its heart on its flannel sleeve. Once you got past how things smelled or how evenly they flowed, Nineties rock was a veritable LiveJournal of emotions. There were earnest, honest lyrics depicting difficult emotional situations, sometimes couched in the friendliest of music, sometimes buried under layers of compression and distortion.

Nada Surf had a bit of a different sound. The guitars were fuzzy and discordant, but singer Matthew Caws’s vocals were clean and clear; no Cobain mumble, no Cornell voicerobatics. When he poured out his angst, it was inescapable because it was right there. You could almost envision him in front of you, two shots into a bottle, hand shaking with frustration while his voice never quavered.

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Waxing Nostalgic: Leapy Lee, “Little Arrows”

By Jeffery X Martin

I should probably hold on to this one for Valentine’s Day. That would be the intelligent thing to do. It would be easy click bait. But I, as a Professional Music Journalist, have a responsibility to my readers, and I am here to issue you a warning. I am being very serious.

Cupid is a raving psychotic bastard who wants to kill you.

Leapy Lee says so.

Who is Leapy Lee? He may very well be your savior.

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Waxing Nostalgic: The Buoys, “Timothy”

By Jeffery X Martin

Lots of bands hope to write that song, the song, the big hit that will make them household names and mansion money. It’s not as easy at sounds. Public tastes change quickly. That Calypso epic you came up with at four in the morning may not be the chart-topper you think it should be. It’s hard to make it in the music business, to be sure.

Rupert Holmes of The Buoys decided the best way to get his band the attention they desired was to write a song so controversial, it would get banned. Negative attention is still attention, and there’s no such thing as bad PR.

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Waxing Nostalgic: Joe Jackson, “Real Men”

By Jeffery X Martin

Before the term “body modification” entered our vernacular, getting your ear pierced was a huge deal, if you were male. There were strange superstitions surrounding the process. If you got your left ear pierced, you were gay. A right ear piercing meant you were still straight. Get both ears pierced and you were Adam Ant.

You know, I may have all that wrong. These were unwritten rules, vague and probably regional.

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Waxing Nostalgic: Frankie Goes to Hollywood, “The Power of Love”

You know what kind of world we used to live in, kids? During the summer of 1984, the number one song in the world was about the importance of doing Kegel exercises. Now we have Carrie Underwood starring in The Sound of Music. We just get blander and blander. Miley and Gaga run around topless or in some kind of meat suit, and who cares? We’ve all seen boobs and steak.

It’s not edgy; it’s stupid.

But Frankie Goes to Hollywood? That was some ballsy music. It may not seem so now, with your jaded ears filled with the wax of cynicism and Wilco, but Frankie pushed everything to the limit. Their marketing plan was a finely planned mixture of saturation and nonsense. T-shirts and buttons appeared in shopping malls like alien spores with messages like, “Arm the Unemployed!” and “War! Hide Yourself!” Their videos played on MTV all the time and honestly, they weren’t that good. The original video for “Relax” simply features the band in a warehouse with a laser beam. “Thriller,” it ain’t.

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The Five Movies of 2013 I Did Not Expect to Like and Ended Up Loving

By Jeffery X Martin

Of course, as a professional guy who writes about popular culture, I try to go into a movie with as little expectation as possible. Keep an open mind. This isn’t always easy for me, because I’m kind of a dick. I like what I like and I don’t give a damn who knows it. I’m not going to watch a Tyler Perry movie. I’m not going to watch a James Cameron movie. It’s not my thing.

This doesn’t mean I can’t get surprised once in a while, as the following list, which is in no particular order, proves.

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Best Music Of 2013: Jeffery X Martin

This is the year I rediscovered electronic music, and not in a Skrillex sort of way, but more like how I felt when I heard Kraftwerk for the first time. Some music veterans came back in new iterations and released some of the best music of their careers. Then, a guy you’ve never heard of recorded an album based on a movie and I felt my brain explode.

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Waxing Nostalgic: The Best Holiday Songs of the 1980s (and one from the 1970s)

By Jeffery X Martin

Just for a moment, let’s pretend there’s no such thing as the War on Christmas (grow up, people; there’s no such thing as a War on Christmas). No politics, no rigamarole, just happy people, coming together to celebrate . . . I don’t know . . . winter? Can we all live with that? Here’s some music from the 1980s that will help you joyously celebrate whatever Solstice-oriented birthday party of cultures and Temple dedications that you and your family deem fit. Or maybe don’t celebrate anything. I ain’t your momma.

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