la musique ... au lavromat!

First, there were the Concerts a Emporter. Which were great. Then I stumbled upon The Felice Brothers playing in the back seat of a taxi. Awesome band, but threatening exhaustion of the hip-music-in-unexpected-places (yeeeah!) concept. Now, looking up a performer from the World Cafe, I see someone has started a public laundromat performance series. Sic transit gloria mundi.

This is an awesome song, even without the horns from the 60s-era R&B band to hold him up.

Note: apparently the "Lavomatik sessions" are also in France. Does every decent English-speaking musical group have to put up with dozens of calls from dudes with digital camcorders every time they want to play the City of Light?

the long dark nighttime

Also, saw The Dark Knight yesterday. Still trying to process it. On the one hand, I enjoyed the hell out of it. A big, ambitious, serious comic book movie that chewed over some decently big ideas. Some excellent suspense: each of the Joker's nightmare plots raised the stakes, and each new twist lived up to the expectation. Then there was the Joker himself: I think Ledger knocked him out of the ballpark, as a cinematic character, though I haven't read the comics. I think I even caught of hint of Jack in his delivery, too, though for the most part his lines were delivered in a creepy, realistic, delightful savoring of dialogue that matched his oh-so-flesh-and-blood painted-and-suited-up madman. The character's 'theme,' as it were -- the strange electronic hum that accompanied his various plots -- might have been heavy-handed, but it worked. Brilliantly.

... and yet, perhaps that terrifying hum suggests why I remain ambivalent about the film. Yes, the leitmotif was off-kilter and terrifying: a hipster banshee's wail for a topsy-turvy, recognizably modern city. But it felt like the punch of a collapsing boxer, because the rest of the movie seemed at times distant, unreal. This was a nightmare show seen through a glass, comfortably. For all the Joker's plotting, the city collapses in the background; I never quite felt drawn into the claustrophobia of a truly great thriller. Nor, for all the much-vaunted murders, did I ever feel a true sense of loss, much less pathos -- not because the plot wouldn't have supported it, but because Nolan's directing never built up any characters in such a way. The death of the judge? Of the Commissioner? Of the vigilante Batman? They were told, never shown. Dawes' demise was a little too sudden, I think, and somehow lacked the tragic sense of an innocent life cut short by cruelty. The final scene could have gone down that dark path, but I think the scriptwriters were correct that the film couldn't bear the death of Gordon's kid.

Too, unlike, say, Hannibal Lecter, this Joker, for all his pitch-perfect shambling, drawling, and giggling, never quite looms out of the dark night with quite the primeval horror of that scene in the ambulance towards the end of "Silence of the Lambs".

In part, I think the blame lies with the director. The action sequences were badly edited, it's true, but the rest of the movie could probably have stood some cleaning up and restructuring. Is that the end of analysis? No, but it's all I've got at this point. I hope to see this again, perhaps to enjoy it in IMAX.

Keith Uhlich's and Stephanie Zecharek's critiques say a lot more about the editing than I ever can, though I think Uhlich underestimates this film by far too much.

why i will never be a freelance journalist

Before I bought my copy of Rick Perlstein's "Nixonland" last month, I checked Amazon for a copy of his book about Barry Goldwater, "Before the Storm." Not only is it reputed to be an amazing book, but it seemed like a good book to read before writing about Goldwater-esque fictional characters. Unfortunately, the book is out of print and Amazon only offered used copies for more than $100.

Turns out the NY Times guy saw the same price tag I did, but decided to turn it into a blog post for the Paper of Record.

How did the booksellers arrive at these figures, which seemed prohibitively high and oddly precise (would it have been $131.10 had one fewer page been dog-eared by the original owner)? And why wouldn’t at least one seller have tried to undercut the others? I e-mailed the store proprietors to find out.

poppy pop pop

As not an odam pointed out when I found this song, I'm about five weeks behind the curve. So it goes. This is awesome, and Zooey Deschanel is magnificent.

Disney Douche

Via DB1, a vomitastic pop song that sounds like the Disney Channel but with lyrics by Vinny and Paulie, written in their garage before heading down to the Shore. Check out dem tans!

Also, if you're going to be in a third-rate boy band, fine. But at least dance sufficiently well that you don't need Battlestar Galactica-esque tight camera swoops to make your moves seem competent.

oh, hell yes

Lou Reed's concerts of the "Berlin" album will be a feature film shown at Film Forum. Only problem is that it opens the same night as "Dark Knight".

http://www.filmforum.org/films/loureedtrailer.html

Dear Ira.Glass: Bridge for Sale! Must Act Now!

The host of "This American Life" speaks in a NY Times Magazine profile of Rush Limbaugh:

“Rush is just an amazing radio performer,” says Ira Glass, a star of the younger generation of public-radio personalities. “Years ago, I used to listen in the car on my way to reporting gigs, and I’d notice that I disagreed with everything he was saying, yet I not only wanted to keep listening, I actually liked him. That is some chops. You can count on two hands the number of public figures in America who can pull that trick off.”

Glass compares Limbaugh to another exceptional free-form radio monologist, Howard Stern. “A lot of people dismiss them both as pandering and proselytizing and playing to the lowest common denominator, but I think that misses everything important about their shows,” he says. “They both think through their ideas in real time on the air, they both have a lot more warmth than they’re generally given credit for, they both created an entire radio aesthetic.”

GAH. I used to listen to Rush every now and then while driving the FM-less blue Volvo down upstate interstates. And the guy isn't warm, at least in the way Glass means. The guy feeds off anger. His humor is mean-spirited. He protests he is the reasonable common man, while his audience huddles around the silent sneering spectre of old-school rascist, nativist, hatred. The bullying is wrapped up in half-truths and careful omissions. There is nothing to like in Limbaugh's broadcasts if you disagree with him: they inspire only disgust, like catching a friend cheating on their significant other.

I understand that the reporter is interviewing you for a few kind words, but that can be done without finding anything likable in Rush's ugly, ugly approach to the world.