First of All, The Parachute Pants Craze Did NOT Coincide With the Initial Fervor Over Rubik's Cube, and Second of All This is the Dumbest Gadget Ever

A touch sensitive electronic Rubik's Cube.

As far as the parachute pants thing, I associate them more with the mid to later 80s, while the Rubik's Cube came and went by 1982-3. But if the wiki on parachute pants is accurate, seems like I might be the one off on this one (though I don't remember anyone, even the wannabe "B-Boys" wearing parachute pants in Junior High, while I do remember them showing up a few years later in High School).

I'd have gone with a Member's Only, IZOD, or K-Swiss reference, myself.

But Does She Smell Like She Sounds?

Turns out if you take one, not entirely unattractive pop singer, mix with a hot leggy model, let mature for 19 years or so, the resulting offspring can turn out to be another phenomenally hot leggy model.

Whodathunkit?

(and don't worry Simon, I'd much rather steal away your still very hot wife away, rather than corrupt your very hot daughter)

(TJ) HOOKER TUESDAY!!! (Zmed in Underwear Edition)

For the ladies. Or the guys, or the guys who are becoming ladies, or those men secure enough in their sexuality that they can appreciate another man's sculpted body without being troubled by any possible homoerotic undercurrent that might be bubbling just under the surface despite the fact that they lurrrrvvv themselves the ladies.

That 4 seconds is for everyone!

(except, maybe Adrian Zmed, ironically enough, he probably looks at that and feels just a tad depressed about it all)

(or not, he might see that and think to himself, 'damn, I still got it', Adrian, if you're out there, please feel free to comment and let us know which it is, OK?)

Also, regarding this being tagged "Bad 70s Television" despite the fact that this show ran from 1982-1986, but the aesthetic, the situations, and the entire feel of the whole enterprise just screamed 'Bad 70s Television', so despite being completely inaccurate, that tag is full of 'truthiness'.

Not all of culture rebounded from the morass of the 70s immediately upon Reagan's first inaugural, some things stayed stuck, like a Mammoth in a tar pit into that sticky, icky decade, and a show like TJ Hooker was one of those things.

3 x 13

So today I turn 3x13. Why should 'milestone' birthdays only accrue by the decade or quarter century? I guess in Asian cultures that follow Chinese Astrology, every 12th year would be considered a milestone (it's when your birth animal comes around again). But what about celebrating milestones every baker's dozen years? 13 is a very transitional time, as is 26, and 39 is the last year you don't have to put a 4 in front of your age, so that is a milestone in of itself.

Had a moment this week where I felt all 2028 weeks I've been around, while drumming in Rock Band my right knee started throbbing. That made me feel pretty old, couldn't even play a stupid video game without my knee acting up on me. Guess it's time to start using my left leg instead, that'll take a little practice, but should be doable (my right knee has been problematic ever since I broke my right tibia near the ankle back in '94).

So in honor of the beginning of my next 13 year segment, I'm going to blog a few lists, first up is one post on the films I enjoyed from 1969, 1982, and 1995. After that three separate posts (alot more links and effort went into the albums post) on the albums of those same years that strike me as being significant. After that, I'll think of something else, but you'll just have to tune in later in the day to find out what other lists of 13 things from '69, '82, and '95 that I can come up with.

Succinct Film Reviews, Indy Edition

I'm not going to type out the whole name of this picture, you know which one I'm talking about, here's the succinct review . . .

Like going to see that Doors Like Thing™ Ray Manzarek put together at your local State/County Fair, sort of like the real thing, good for nostalgia's sake, good for making a buck, but not much else.

I'm not quite feeling as fully childhood raped as I feared (there's no full on Jar-Jar moments in this one), but I think it's safe to say that my childhood was fondled in an inappropriate way by Mr. Spielberg and Mr. Lucas.

Other spoilerish quibbles to follow, not that there's any real plot to spoil, and it's not like any of the other Indy pictures were full of stunning plot revelations where if you know what happened in advance you'd enjoy the film less, but to remain unspoiled don't read any further .
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OK, you've been warned appropriately, don't blame me if you read something that you didn't want to read in what follows. First off, Cate Blanchett's fake Russian accent was especially bad, especially when they hired actual Russians for the other roles, since she was just the over the top baddy, seems like they could have hired any comely Russian/Ukrainian lass and she'd have done a better job than Cate. She's a great actress, but this is a silly role, and she doesn't sell silly well. Shia Lebouf isn't horrible, he's actually quite good, but the Brando outfit is just embarrassing, the Tarzan moment swinging from tree to tree was ludicrous, and the big snake gag was silly.

I'm getting sick of blue screen action sequences. There's no sense of danger, it's just people running in place, or slammed around on a gimbal. You know they aren't really leaping from an actual vehicle to an actual vehicle, and it just gets repetitive after awhile.

At the beginning, they introduce a subplot that gets dropped almost immediately, and I'd like to call this the, 'I don't want people to question my big fat Hollywood liberal bona fides by making Soviets the actual unremittingly evil and ambitious bad guys in this film, so I better tack on an anti-McCarthy subplot to show that even though those poor Marxist were misguided in their ideological fervor there were people running around on our side that were easily ten times worse' subplot. It was completely unneeded, doesn't add anything, I guess the thinking is something like this, 'gee, Indy Jones survives a nuclear blast, is picked up alone at a highly secure facility in the middle of nowhere, aids Soviet agents to raid a sensitive American storage facility and they sneak away with alien technology, but the nerve of those eeeevil FBI agents in questioning Prof. Jones, a war-hero, about whether or not he was coerced in cooperating, or whether he was in cahoots with the Reds, just shows what an evil and horrible time the 50s were and how there were witch hunts left and right, even in academia (yeah, cause there certainly weren't/aren't any Marxist in archaeology departments on American campuses)'. There's even a line where they question if he really earned his WWII medals, can't help but think that was meant to recall the 'horrible' 'swift-boating' of that other pure and blameless war-hero Sen. John Kerry. This crap happens so commonly in pictures (especially the most recent Spielberg pics, plus he's credited with helping Lucas come up with that insipid 'Is this how democracy dies . . .' line in the last Star Wars film), that you just have to let it wash over you like a wave of stupidity and knee-jerk liberalism, but it shouldn't go unnoticed.

As far as on the best or worst of Spielberg pictures, it definitely won't crack the top 7, or even the top 15, but it's also solidly out of the bottom 7, so I guess that's something. If you are jonesing for an Indiana Jones fix, this is better than nothing, but not by much.

The NYT Should Embrace Their Inner Heroin Dealer . . .

The NYT should adopt the time-tested marketing approach so often employed by drug dealers, 'the first taste is always free'.

TimeSelect was an unmitigated disaster that hurt the brand and lessened the influence its Op-Ed staff have outside of their little Manhattan cocktail circles. Thankfully, they've ended that sad experiment (but the damage to their talent remains), but they're sitting on another potential disaster if they don't do something about it.

Prof. Althouse has started a new project, with a lot of potential, but only if the NYT gets wise. She's blogging the past as if there were blogs back then, taking a random year, and blogging the events of that date as covered in the NYT. Its an interesting concept and would foster interesting conversations, but only if everyone can see the articles she's linking to. Right now, .edu customers get 100 articles per month free, and NYT subscribers get unlimited access to the basic archive, but for everyone else, there's only a link telling you to shell out $3.95 to have a little peek at a musty old article from decades ago (1851-1922 are available, and since 1987, but 1923-1986 will cost you). I don't think too many people are going to be doing that.

So what would a drug dealer do?

He'd (or she'd) give out a taste for free, of course. Get people hooked on the idea that there's fascinating stuff to be mined by seeing the past as it was seen contempraneously. If I were working at the NYT I'd find a way to either bring Althouse's THE TIME THAT BLOG FORGOT directly in with all the other NYT blogs, or at least point to the posts each day. She's written Op-Eds for them, so they've had a working relationship in the past, but this project has started out as a freelance project that she's doing just as an interesting challenge and a new way to look at things (plus its a good excuse to put up that gorgeous picture of her younger self). Besides bringing the blog directly under the NYT (but don't get heavy-handed and exert any editorial control, or I suspect the good Professor would balk), the other brilliant thing to do would be to make access to the articles she links each day absolutely free to any and everybody.

Shouldn't be that hard to do that without creating a backdoor to sneak into the rest of the archive, and as people get curious about the way the past looked when it was the present, they might be compelled to start finding articles of personal interest and go ahead and splurge on the $14.95 a month (or $169 annually) for access to TimesReader (which also gives access to the archives), or even better for them, might spur people to actually subscribe to the dead tree edition (which also grants access to the archive, here in the 90404 area code it's $25 a month for home delivery).

They have a choice, be smart and act like a drug dealer, or be dumb and act like a music executive (and we all know how well holding the line against MP3s and file sharing went in that industry).

Which will it be Grey Lady?


AND . . .

(just cause it was playing in my head while thinking of this analogy, but come on NYT be 'my man' and give me a 'sweet taste')

If I Had a 22 Year Old Girlfriend, I'd Totally Buy Her This T-Shirt (at Least One Size Too Small)

This shirt, probably not a good idea to wear if you're old enough to remember the 70s. But for anybody under 25, have at it.

Ahhhhhh Yeaaahhhhh!! Or Uh, Yeah?!?

So are you all like, Ahhhhhh Yeahhhhhh!! at the impending release of the Lasonic i931 iPod Boombox (aka Ghetto Blaster).

Or are you all like uh, yeah? Just don't sit next to me on the subway with this thing.

If boomers can continue to get all nostalgic for stuff from 1968, then why shouldn't folks my age and younger relive 1986?

I Am Incapable of Expressing How Loathesome I'm Likely to Find This Upcoming Film . . .

. . . normally I can express my disdain pretty well, but my eloquence fails when faced with the prospect of this project.

Boomer Nostalgia-ism, check.
Radical Chic-ism, check.
Spielbergian Moral Relatvism, double check.
Sacha Baron Cohen in a serious role, Wawaweeee.

Maybe I'm wrong and it won't be hagiography, instead it will attack the Chicago 7/8 for the jerks they were, but given that Spielberg has already compared the tone of this picture to his awful piece of Munich, I think we can expect to get exactly what it appears to be, another picture that 'sticks it to the man' and glories in yippie radicalism.

Uggghhh.

The reanimated corpses of hippies will never die, it seems. Their pungent odor will waft throughout history (or at least till Boomers start dying in droves sometime in the 30s and 40s)

Sure, I Hate Hippies . . .

. . . but who doesn't love a (slightly NSFW in a Le déjeuner sur l'herbe sort of way) naked Hippie Chick?

(with the caveat that she not be too old (Sienna Miller is only 25), not too hairy (no strands of armpit hair can be seen in photo, which is always a relief, though probably not period accurate), and pleasingly curvy (which due to a strict director mandated regimen of less exercise Sienna has a nicely curving bum in these pics), needless to say there's no way in hell that I'll watch the film Hippie Hippie Shake, even with a naked Sienna Miller in it, dewy-nostalgia for that awful scene makes me sick)

The film Hippie Hippie Shake is based on the memoirs of Richard Neville, an Australian rabble rouser who, judging from his website, is still stuck back in the 60s. Everybody is getting a serious aesthetic upgrade in this pic, I mean, really, Cillian Murphy as Richard Neville, and Emma Booth as Germaine Greer?

According to the wiki on Oz magazine, the film is centered around the British obscenity trial over an issue of Oz that mashed-up Rupert the Bear with explicit cartoons by R. Crumb.

No doubt a 'the man was keeping us down, man' movie, with lots of actors playing famous people in bit parts. These type of films tend to become self-congratulatory wankfests (to borrow a Britishism), and should be avoided at all costs.

If You Can't Beat Them, Join Them . . .

You can't beat the Boomer Generation at the nostalgia game, so I won't even try. Let's return again to 25 years ago and check out one of my favorite local bands that went big from back in the day.

The Bangles rocked. Energy, harmonies, performance, they had it all. In this clip you get lead vocals from Susannah Hoffs, Vicky Peterson, and Debbie Peterson. As they got more polished, they kind of lost some of this early magic. Wish I had seen them more often when they were at this stage, only caught them once during their earliest days (I have an excuse, I was 13 at the time).

That was then, this is now, but turns out, they can still put on a pretty good performances. Above is a clip shot in Alhambra just last year. They look good, sound great, still trade off on the vocals, and do a strange Walk Like an Egyptian/Mrs. Robinson medley (don't ask), it works, though.

(and Susannah, if you ever tire of that director hubby of yours, call me . . .)

(hell, if either Peterson sister reads this, you can call me, too, I'm not picky, I had a crush on all of you back in the day . . .)

Ostalgie

Folks will get nostalgic over anything.

Even the depredations, degradations and debilitation under communism.

That's one hotel I'll leave off my list should I ever visit Berlin.

(would anyone be surprised that the AP story takes a mostly approving tone?)

Time to trot out that Zappa quote:

...I've also talked about the End of the World being a question of whether it's going to be by fire, ice, paperwork, or nostalgia. And there's a good chance that it's going to be nostalgia because the distance between the event and the nostalgia for the even has gotten shorter and shorter and shorter with each nostalgia cycle. So, projecting into the future, you could get to a point where you would take a step and be so nostalgic for that point where you would take a step and be so nostalgic for that step you just took that you would literally freeze in your tracks to experience the nostalgize of the last step, or the last word, or your last whatever. The world just comes to a halt - remembering.

Found the interview that quote was taken from (dating from Oct 1988), not sure that Zappa would be a big fan of the internet or blogosphere, either that or he'd be one of the most prolific bloggers around, one or the other, really.

Another quote from the same interview,

I don't know whether anybody truly wants to be interested in a campaign for two years, and I think that's one of the reasons why they run them for two years. Because they want to numb the electorate. They want to keep the voter turn-out low. If you keep the voter turn-out low, then you realize that the only people who have managed to stay interested long enough have to be weird. The average guy, who just wants to exercise his democratic right to vote, he's so turned off by the whole thing. He's seen these guys over and over, he's heard the lies, he's looked at it and just gone "Yuck!" And now it's not a privilege to vote. It's a horrible obligation and they don't even want to know about it. And especially when you tell them that the election's already over, then why should they bother? Why should they leave their job or go, especially on the East Coast when it's cold, to someplace in November to pull a handle or poke a hole in a piece of paper? Who cares? The election's over. They want you to believe that.

Still don't particularly like his music, and he says plenty in the interview I find disagreeable, but he says it in a compelling manner, so read the whole thing.

It Was 25 Years Ago Today . . .

. . . OK, not exactly 25 years ago today, but close, that a certain album was released that changed the way music was received, perceived and consumed.

I found the dreary nonsense of boomer nostalgia over an album that I've never been able to listen to all the way through rather annoying (non-dreary non-nonsense about that album can be found at Althouse, however).

So figured, fight fire with fire.

Started thinking about the albums released in 1982 that had a major impact, and which one really helps define the time and stands out as a landmark for what that era was.

Plenty of terrible albums were released that year, some great albums, too. Thriller was released that year, but I've never been a big fan of that album and it has accrued a lot of baggage that makes a major discussion about that album unappealing. Avalon was released and it's great, but not a cultural touchstone, Prince unleashed 1999 and it's a great listen, but he's done better. Combat Rock was the Clash at full force, but they aren't really what the 80s were about. Scoff if you will, but Kissing To Be Clever is a totally awesome (oops, sorry, the spirit of an 80s Valley Girl snuck into my keyboard for a sec) album and would be worthy of a lengthy discussion, but not in this post. Another album that many would scoff at but others cherish would be The Number of the Beast, but that's also an album for a different post.

Have I worn you out with this preamble yet? Have you guessed what album might be worth the attention? Did you even consider that this is all leading up to a discussion about Duran Duran? Well it is, and if you have patience I'll explain why.

Rio by Duran Duran was released in the UK and US in May of 1982. It took awhile to pick up steam, it was never the #1 album in the UK or US, but it stayed in the Billboard Hot 100 for 129 weeks. It's not just the music that makes this album *THE* album of 1982 (more so than even the biggest selling album of all time (THRILLER) released later that year), it's the overall effect it had on the music industry and Duran Duran's position as the first band that really made a name for itself through its music videos. The album languished in the States for months before MTV started playing the videos.

The Rio video above is little more than a video postcard of exotic locales intercut with images of the band and exotic babes, yet it was the right combination at the right time and it helps that the song still sounds amazing. The bass line in this album kicks all sorts of ass, and the cheesy synth sounds layered on top aren't really cheesy at all, they actually add something to the sound. This is when "new wave" really did seem like something new, it wasn't dusty old hippies still turning out music. This was sunny, optimistic, comfortable with wealth, lush, and sexy. Watch and listen to this and try not to feel better, it's impossible, this stuff is made for good times, better times, and as it so happens, the 80s were good and better times.

The next track on the album is My Own Way. Umm, another fun song, but this video luckily didn't get such heavy rotation in the States, this would have killed the band. Red silk headbands are never, ever, ever a good idea. But this band did have one tight rhythm section, and Simon has a solid voice for this music and presence, which may not seem that big of a deal now, but it is a big change from the type of crap that was popular in the late 70s and the more mainstream bands of the early 80s.

Hungry Like the Wolf is the other big track off this album, the band goes all "Indiana Jones" in this video and it has a cinematic sheen to it, even if it still makes no sense whatsoever. I've accused this song of being cheesy, and it is, and this video is plenty cheesy as well, but it's quality cheese, and there's nothing wrong with high quality cheese. Once again I have to say that their drummer and bassist are amazing together.

Another lushly tropical song, more exotic locales, this time for the more moody, downbeat (though not down) Save a Prayer. All the same tricks are applied to this song, but at a different pace and for melancholy effect. Not much more to say, listen to it yourself, allow it to sweep you away, get caught in this song's undertow, you won't regret it.

The last video I'll link from this album is for "The Chauffeur", the video has naughty bits in it and more than a hint of sexual situations (nothing graphic, an androgynous blonde dancing topless, and a suggestion without depicting some lesbian action), so to watch you'll have to find naughty bits acceptable viewing and be logged in with your YouTube account (and over 18). But it's all arty and in black and white, so that makes it all OK, right? This is the 80s, afterall. There's sadness, strangeness, and a hint of danger wrapped up in the song and the video. There was plenty of that going on in the early 80s with regards to sexuality. Sex was becoming dangerous again after the bachanal of the 70s, no more free love, that stuff turned out to be deadly (at least until folks figured out what was going on and re-embraced barrier protection).

The album itself is an artifact of the time, but it's perfectly listenable outside of that time and place, even if you aren't a kid of the 80s, you should find the sounds engaging, and if you are a kid of the 80s who was caught up in the New Wave wave, then memories should be flooding about now. Rio wasn't an album made to be specifically about the early 80s. Duran Duran purposefully didn't write topical songs, or write songs that are particularly meaningful. Yet despite this, they perfectly captured that time, or defined it, it's hard to know which way the influence went now, there were other bands with a style similar, they were grouped in the UK with the other "new romantics" yet they were the one that broke the biggest worldwide and they were the ones who seemed least constrained by the conventions of that sound. They may seem like unlikely and accidental revolutionaries, but Duran Duran was a revolutionary band and Rio was a revolutionary album, even if neither seemed the case at the time. They captured the promise of that time, the awakening out of the long dreary hangover that was the 70s, and they helped point the direction to a new style of life and art that wasn't afraid of being commercial or urbane. It's not something that hadn't existed before, but after all those dirty hairy hippies, or dirty oddly haired punks were running around, it was something that had to be relearned.

They were the perfect band for Reagan's new morning and Thatcher's spring revival. They were the exact style and sound that personified the neon colors, big shoulder pads, silk suits, and embracing of prosperity that the 80s represented.

So go buy yourself this album if you don't already own the CD, pick up a Nagel print, put on a white suit (or slinky cocktail dress), and drink a fruity beverage, there ain't nothing wrong with any of those things.

Embracing the Nostalgia (Music Edition)

Two new albums and one new song this week released on URGE. The albums are Scarred from Johnette Napolitano of Concrete Blonde fame, and Ultra Payloaded from Satellite Party headed by Perry Farrell of Jane's Addiction fame, and the single is Tarantula by The Smashing Pumpkins of Smashing Pumpkins fame.

Embrace the late 80s and early 90s, you know you miss them musically.

First the single, The Smashing Pumpkins, according to their wiki, are reformed and have a studio album coming out in July. The new line-up includes original drummer Jimmy Chamberlain, and Billy Corgan who has always been the main writer of both the music and lyrics for all their incarnations. Also, as has been Pumpkins tradition, you must have a vagina to play the bass for the band, Ginger Reyes 'aka' Ginger Sling is no exception (or at least if she is, she's very good at passing). The song itself is power pop, noisy, melodic, has a strong hook and lots and lots of guitars. It's more reminiscent of their earliest Gish/Siamese Dream type stuff than their later Mellon Collie period, which to me is a good thing and means I look forward to the first Pumpkins album since '99.

Next let's discuss The Satellite Party. Perry is always coming up with new projects for himself, and here's a good interview at Suicide Girls (link is to the interview, you'll have to click over to the naked goth chicks on your own) about his latest. Perry being Perry, there's a lot of whacked out material in conjunction with the album at the band's website. There's a blog (naturally), here's the entry about their upcoming Carson Daly appearances

Carson Daily Cares about music!
Wasn't he so famous for being an MTV vj?! Well now he is famous for making tevo a common houshold appliance. They say he gets the best bands. People Tevo his show a lot. We played four nights worth of songs for him tonight. Andy Dick ran out into the hallway with his foul mouth. We laughed for 5 minutes.
I saw new friend I met in airport bar last week- in the audience as well as dancer friends who all live in the valley. Chris- you seemed happy-good to see you again.
Just about to jump off stage when Nuno ripped into Stop! The producer didn't know how to react- we just fell into it-when Nuno's guitar went out... I thought they pulled the plug- but it was Nuno who pulled his own chord out accidently! He got down and jammed it back into his chorus pedal and we all laughed and soared through to the end. I hope they add that performance on another day.

Andy Dick is like the Spanish Inquisition, nobody expects the Dick. That's not the really crazy stuff, though, for that you have to click on the bio portion where it goes off into lala land about "the solutionists". But you probably don't care about that, what you want to know is, "How's the music?".

The music's fine. It's not Jane's Addiction, and that's probably a good thing, Jane's was great, but that was then, this is now. This album has a pretty commercial friendly feel to it. There's some techno flourishes, some funkier tracks, some rockier tracks, one really beautiful ballad (Awesome), but mostly it's groovy. It's danceable rock, basically, more reminiscent of Garbage or Republica than Jane's (especially on the track Kinky, it's really easy to imagine Shirley Manson singing that song instead of Perry). Other than the title track, Ultra - Payloaded Satellite Party could have been on any of the Jane's album. Overall, it's a solid album, if a bit of a throwaway. It's not meant to make you think, it's meant to tap your feet, and for the summer time, that's not a bad thing.

Now, let's talk about the amazing new solo album from Johnette Napolitano. She rocks. She's one of my all time favorite performers, and Concrete Blonde was one of the best live bands that I've ever seen personally. If you're already a fan of hers, then this album won't disappoint. You can download an acoustic version of the song "When I'm Gone" (mp3 download at link) and her website has a music player embedded that lets you listen to the whole album, so you don't have to take my word for how awesome this album is. For why she's terrific I suggest listening to her cover of Coldplay's The Scientist. It's the second track, so just click next and you'll hear her rip into that song with all the intensity her voice brings. Intensity doesn't equal volume, it's a quiet song, done quietly, but she manages to convey so much emotion in her singing without edging over into bathos. It's much less whiny than the original (admittedly not hard to do, Chris Martin is a consummate whiny singer). So if that impresses you, you'll love the rest of this, if it doesn't then stay away from this album. The title track is impressive as well. Again, either her talk/singing style puts you off, or you'll find it enthralling, I'm in the latter camp. The musicianship is top notch throughout, and she just throws so much of herself into her vocals that I find it hard not to be swept up into the songs.

So that's it, instead of a "new music Tuesday" you have an 'old favorites releasing new music Thursday'. Good to see all these folks still out there, still evolving, and still holding on to what made them special back in the day as well.