rickshangle.com

I am acquainted with this guy, Jeffrey T. Meyer, who does a podcast out of Muncie, Indiana called Good Beer Show, and if you like good beer and local music, you should check it out. Not to mention that JT is a good guy.

Jeff and his friends basically sit around a large beer house caller the Heorot, drink and discuss good beer (i.e. not Miller Lite aka “Football Beer”) without pretense, and and listen/talk to local bands. The podcast’s gone from standing still to essentially national phenomenon (in the podcasting world) in around 18 months, so that’s all good.

PodCastAwards.com is having it’s 2nd (3rd? whatever) annual award thing, and Good Beer Show is again nominated in the food/drink category (they won last year).

Go out there every day from July 28th through August 11th and vote for the Good Beer Show. If you don’t feel good about that, how about going and getting the g.d. podcasts, listening to a few, and then voting? While you’re out there, vote for some other shows. Don’t listen to podcasts? No problem… pick a few names at random that sound cool.

Anyway - you’d be doing yourself a favor (if you like indie music and beer and people shooting s**t) to listen to Good Beer Show, but barring that, you’d be doing JT a favor with your vote. DO IT!

Good Beer Show on About.com, so you can get a quick feel that jt and co do not support devilry (any more than the standard person)…

[image: laura domela; probably not safe for most work]

Tell them ‘Storm Large’ sent ‘ya

Week three of rock star: supernova. A singularly lackluster set of performances. Maybe I was just in a bad mood from having to wash dishes that had contained “taco soup”, a 50/50% soup/cheese concoction that requires a sandblaster to remove from fiesta-ware.

There were weeks like this last season with INXS, too — the doldrums. There are something like 13 participants left, and what’s depressing is that at least 8-10 of these people need to go before we got to something approximating a real contest. Seriously. Unless some C-players start bringing A-game.

Without anything specific to criticize below and beyond the widespread mediocrity of last night’s show, I’ll provide a quick run-through. This will be neither pretty, nor inspired:

Zayra — Kelley and I agree you didn’t have a bottom three song picked out last week, leading to the baffling move of doing the same song on wednesday that band railed you for the night before. That is such b.s., girl. I know that since you’re from… wherever you’re from… you look down on us Americans. I’d suggest moving to a 100% Stevie Nicks performance track. Stand back! I need a little sympathy! But now you’re doing REM and the band says they like it. A lot of times I want to slap people when they say, “I’m confused”, because it’s really a passive-agressive way of saying “you’re not expressing yourself sufficiently well”, but I’m so confused.

Jenny — aka Aimee Mann, except not rock. You are so not rock. This doesn’t mean you’re a bad musician or performer, but you are anti-Tommy Lee, in the anti-matter is anti-matter sense. Now you’re doing Stone Temple Pilots. You rock about 1/12th as hard as Alanis Morissette. You’re going out. I swear to you. You’re going down. Tonight.

Storm — The best-looking female on the show by far. And my gaydar is screaming. The forecast is in: a storm’s coming and it’s gonna be: h-o-t. Cool it down, you got to cool it now… ooooh — watch out!, you’re gonna lose control! Oh, those links are probably nsfw.

Ryan — You’re constipated, dude.

That Australian Guy — Where were you last season?

Phil — You’re not rock, Phil, but a ray of light was shed last night when you stepped up to do White Rabbit. The only problem is (as any H.S.Thompson fan knows) this song is all about when it peaks, and little else. You built, you built, Newstead (coked up?) was with you. You were there, forming it, playing with it, the radio was about to be thrown in the bath tub… and you failed to peak with the song. You blew it. Pfffrrrrtt. Stop delaying the inevitable and turn in your torch. But then again, you have a lot of tattoos. Who are you, Phil?

Patrice — You are a Sheryl Crow wannabe leatherwoman.

Dana — You’re cute, there’s nothing wrong with your body and 80% of your quasi-fetus moon child face. You are just not rock, though; you look so uncomfortable up there. And you wouldn’t last twenty minutes in the clutches of Tommy Lee. This is a guy who, on a bet, went over a month without bathing — according to his own auto-biography, which was co-written with his phallus. This is not for you, not for you…

Magni — You need to start doing Judas Priest songs exclusively, dude. Only then will your true potential be unlocked, like when Neo gets killed at the end of the first Matrix and realizes it’s all not real.

Lukas — I (once again) voted for you (five times) last night, but at the week three mark it’s pretty clear that we’re not seeing Lukas, per se, but the Lukas-Rock-Persona that is the only form Lukas can take. It would be nice to see under the veil, but I so know you’re a ringwraith.

Josh — Kelley’s right: you sound like Tracy Chapman, dude. I was drivin’, drivin’ in your car. You jumped out of the car and got out of the car. Eject.

Jill — Mrs. Tommy Lee #4 (5?) Penthouse… .com.

Dilana — You, along with Lukas, are the only two people who are actually in competition here. The funny thing is that when you’re not making terrifying faces, and you let your face relax, is how cute you are. But you have way too much s**t in your face.

Finally, Dave and Tommy have lost their minds (thanks Neil for the link), which is what I expect from Tommy… but somehow I continue to expect more from Dave. Again, I think it all goes back to “mountain song”: coming down the mountain! DA-DA-DUH-DAH-DAH-DUH-DA-DAH-DUH-DUH-DAH-DAH!

Better luck next week. Let’s hope, at a minimum, more than one player goes home tonight. Sorry, guys.

[1] I write this while watching Wednesday night’s elimination show.

In one of the few occurrences on this season’s Rockstar: Supernova! that seem to indicate the proceedings are taking place somewhere in this reality as opposed to some sort of temporal/logical rift, host/actual rock star Dave Navarro[0] had a brief exchange with contestant Jill Gioia following tonight’s performance of Hole’s “Violet”, executed complete with kinderwhore dress, some sort of veil and, uh… there’s a link to the thing here. But beware.

I’m paraphrasing now:
> Dave: That was, ok, the vocal was good but, you know, it was a little weird seeing you in the whole Courtney Love-esque getup. That made it a little weird. That made it too much.
> Jill: No! No! This is me. I don’t know what came before or what Courtney Love did. This is me, this is Jill Gioia!
> Dave: Ok, well, if you buy the Hole album Live Through This, which that song “Violet” is from, and you look at the cover, you’ll see a woman who is dressed exactly like you are dressed now, and inside you’ll see pictures of Courtney Love the same way, but whatever.
> Courtney: I’m Jill Gioia! fin

Deadpan. No sarcasm. No need for it. F–k, man, that guy wrote “Mountain Song”, one of the greatest f—ng rock songs of all time. He knows he’s real. He knows he wrote that song, and he knows exactly how high he was when he wrote it and how many women were there doing sex acts and if blood was being drunk from a ram’s head and he SHOULD, damn it. Dave has two pierced nipples. That’s what I’m talking about. He’s become a little strange with the plastic surgery and being a reality TV host and all that, but the guy is still rock and roll. I think.

Unfortunately the exchange I describe above was not captured in the linked performance, nor does it appear to have hit YouTube yet. When it does, you’ll know.

The “Real-Meter” was quickly slapped back down to the default/running setting of “not very real” with Tommy Lee’s immediate followup: “All I want to know is: are you wearing panties?” This was to Jill Gioia, not to Navarro, to which she tried-to-purr-but-really-didn’t “… maybe I am… maybe I’m not!” Good response. Unfortunately, lacked the slightly more “rock and roll” option of lifting up her dress for the audience to settle the question. And in this case, I guess what I really mean by “rock and roll” is “capable of causing genital warts by sight”.

So… it’s like this: in a season of Rock Star where things are pretty much total non-rock (or at least not real rock) in large part due to the ill-rock-legitimacy of a man named Tommy Lee, who has burned through all his rock-karma[1], in some ways Dave Navarro is like the most most rock thing on the show when he doesn’t even have to raise his voice or be sarcastic to point out what should be obvious to everyone: Jill Gioia is a first order poseur and should be nuked from orbit, or ravaged by Tommy Lee then blown from an airlock. Perhaps the greatest poseur of all time. Or at least on that show.

I just voted for Lukas four times, which is my style, and now: the prediction.

The prediction: tomorrow, all three members of the bottom three will be ejected. Please God.

ROCKSTAR!

[0] Despite having a somewhat dull-looking Wikipedia entry… or because of?
[1] But maybe you can’t burn through it all… it’s infinite? This is tough.

Not really, but given what the world saw on the tonight’s first performance episode, combined with a near-complete lack of public interest in Tommy Lee’s doings, this whole thing had better be over quickly.

But, why get ahead? Let’s take it in stride, a walk through the garden… excellent style. [image source]

First, remember Rock Star: INXS? No? Are you going all the way back to last summer yet? Yes, and you still don’t remember. That’s ok. Rewind: INXS becomes Top Rock Star in like 1000 nations. Michael Hutchence loses it and punches out clean via an auto-erotic asphyxiation episode. Band muddles about for ten years, then decides that only american idol-style teledemocracy can pinch them a new lead singer, while ex-Jane’s Addiction Dave Navarro smirks on, satyr-like and glistening, offering guidance and attempting to figure out the magic formula allowing him a three-way with co-host Brooke Burke and his soon-to-be-exwife Carmen Electra.

So, the format is very American Idol: contestants perform by singing karaoke to rock standards with a pretty awesome live band, America “votes”, and someone gets voted off the island every week. Navarro is Ryan Seacrest except lucid and hetero, and the band is Randy/Paula/Simon. Then there’s a big sing-off at the end and the band has a new singer for whatever the minimum time/album requirements of the show contract are. In between all this there are half-hour “reality” episodes of the contestants living in a dream house, drinking to excess in the rock-n-roll tradition, and crying for/laughing at whoever just got voted off.

So last time, a strutting, “backstabbing” and hand-jiving Canuck named J.D. Fortune (Vegas;pretty) took the stage, rang the bell, made the duck do “ding!”, and took the money, becoming INXS’ new lead singer via (sorta) America’s dial-in favor[5]. Summer’s kiss is over, baby, but J.D. is standing tall. And, as of about ten months later, he’s still with the band and has actually recorded an album with them[4].

But it’s a new summer, and we have a new handful of fifteenish hopefuls looking for elected rock stardom. Dave’s and BookeBooke are back, and it’s time for Rock Star: Supernova?

[[ donkey braying sound ]]

Introductions are an order.

Supernova is the super-group (eh! eh!) featuring:

Tommy Lee, former drummer of Motley Crue and gynecological jackhammer of Pamela Anderson and assorted PA-lookalikes, leading band and ostensibly playing some instrument in between liver transplants.

Jason Newstead, former Metallica bassist[1] (not to be confused with Metallica Drummer), last seen in 2003’s documentary some kind of monster taunting Mighty M into a battle-of-the-bands with whatever band he was in then[3]. “Anywhere, any time.” Glad to see that worked out.

Gibby Haynes, former Butthole Surfers. I thought he was the singer for that band. I don’t know what he’s doing here. Perhaps supplying T.Le with heroin. Again, why is he here?

Some other dude, a producer maybe?

And did I mention Dave Navarro is back, looking extremely bored? And we’re only one episode in? I only mention this because Dave is waaaay less-sexier/swarthier when he’s bored.

It matters not, because the Rock Star net-effect is in full effect to rock your summer, all summer long:

1. The girls are sometimes hot, always slutty and occasionally capable of delivering pitchy caterwaul at ear-watering brown-note volumes. And in one case the girl is a terrifying staring-owl/zombie, but she’s a SuicideGirl so it’s ok[7].
2. The guys are often pretty, occasionally gay, and in one rare instance actually capable of rock-action to the extreme (more anon). Also, they’re sometimes J.D. from last season. Welcome back!

There are just a few problems with the subject-band this time around:

0. “Supernova”, the band, appears to have been created just for the show. Ewww. Methods of Mayhem showed such promise.
1. Tommy Lee is not someone America remotely cares about, beyond his freakishly large anatomy and tendency to poke it in various American sweetheart orifi.
2. Jason Newstead, although a great bassist that was once in a great band, is not someone whose opinion anyone takes seriously; that’s why he got kicked out of Metallica.
3. Gibby Haynes? I honestly thought that guy died on some legendary 12 hour con-call with Hank Rollins and Bill S. Burroughs where Haynes was threatening to do heroin and Will Lee was all egging him on and Rollins was shouting at him not to, telling him to keep his self-respect and then like twelve hours later Rollins fell asleep, exhausted, for like 2 seconds and Haynes did the heroin, and Rollins came through the phone line like in some horror film and snapped Gibby’s spine with his neck-muscles.
4. I felt that with the INXS show there was was a sort of “aw, it’s sweet that these super-provincial Australian blokes are at least playing along with the idea that there was a one in ten billion chance that a lady singer could win the competition”. Snort. Let me fast forward to how that will end if it happened on Supernova. The winner would first be violated… no, wait… injected with heroin, then the violation. Then more drugs, flayed alive, roasted on a spit, then eaten. I assume that would be the end but given Tommy Lee one can never rule out additional violation post-roast.

In the end, just give Lukas Rossi the $10,000 or the spot in the band or the Prius or whatever, because on night one the score was 14 relatively-to-fully embarrassing performances, and 1 rock show (Billy Idol’s… something) by Lukas. Kelley was pretty sure Lee & Co were reaching back to the producers during his performance (strategically slotted last) to ask “dude, what will it just take to get this Lukas guy on the bus now? And is he holding?”

All in all it’s all in good fun, and I can sort of detach myself because I don’t care about this band [2], and just watch the show. For no matter how pitchy or wooden or wacky the performance, you can see the same gleam of hope, and same excited question, in each contestant’s eye every time they take that stage [image source]:

“Man, how am I going to be in this band without catching Hep C from, through or via Tommy Lee?”
or
“dude, CAN’T BELIEVE HOW MUCH HEROIN I’M GOING TO DO IN THIS BAND! AWESOME!”

[1] Not the one who got crushed under a bus; that would be the late, great Cliff Burton.
[2] I was once a big INXS fan, and watched last summer with mixed fascination, regret and joy.
Crue was awesome, but Tommy Lee specifically can be blown out of an airlock alongside evil Dr. Moonraker.
[3] I think it was A Floatist-Boy and Jetmachino
[4] Sang the lead vocal tracks on a pre-recorded INXS album that undoubtedly been in the can 3-5 years
It’s called Switch and I own it. Damn it!
[5] But mostly because the band wanted Fortune’s fourteen competitors less. And yes, on this show, unlike American Idol, you can actually successfully dial in to the voting system and vote via the web; I voted five times tonight alone[6].
[6] I so wish I was kidding but I’m so not.
[7] The rocker in question, Dilana, is an interesting dichotomy who appears to want to set the Earth on fire (literally) during her zero-muscle-movement/jesus christ post rendition of nirvana’s lithium, then instantly transforms into Strawberry Shortcake-with-a-lip-ring when she takes the hoodie off.

## Update: Smelling-My-Own-Shame Edition ##

Ok. Gibby Haynes is not on the show, but Gilby Clark (former Guns n’ Roses) is. I’ve never known such shame. My reputation is ruined. This is my final entry.

Singer’s Man of Steel needs to smell his shame, hide face in cape, then wash cape with SuperTide.

I had high hopes for Bryan Singer’s take on the Superman mythos after his success helming X-Men 1 & 2, but was sorely disappointed by the finished product, especially after the inevitable hype generated by so many false starts on the property over the last decade.

Maybe part of Singer’s success with X-Men was his admission throughout the process that he wasn’t an X-Fanboy going in, opening the door to dealing with the material honestly and from a fresh perspective, without falling into the potential pitfalls of endless backstory-development and the omission of x-rated content[1].

Emotional detachment from the subject matter would have served Singer well in this case, for we are left with a bloaty, sentimental Superman-as-the Baby Jebus passion play begging the obvious question but failing to answer it: “Why wasn’t Christopher Reeves brought back in to play the man of steel?”

A list of additional charges / outrages:
1. Turning the great Brando into a squeaking digital Muppet that in no way portrays our finest actor in a way in the way we want to remember him.
2. The decision to swap in Frank Langella to replace Hugh “That d**k Dr. House from ‘House, M.D.’” Laurie in the role of Perry White.

3. Extensive use of digital effects when real heat vision, ice-rays and actual destruction was perfectly feasible (and probably cheaper; this film allegedly came in over $200M).
4. The baffling failure to fully capitalize on the franchise’s greatest asset — Sir Terence Stamp in the seminal role of arch-nemesis General Zod — as the primary supervillain.

5. Choosing to focus on a reimaginaging of the Superman back-story instead of pushing forward with challenging new material, such as the death of Superman at the hands of Doomsday’s consumption-ray

I could go on, but it’s perhaps pointless to[2].

rds

[1] Such content was undoubtedly planned for the third installment of the X-franchise, but the vision was sadly left unfulfilled when Singer left to work on Superman Returns. I found X3: The Final Countdown to be a well-executed conclusion to that segment of story plot-wise, but one sorely devoid of hardcore sex or even basic full-frontal nudity.

[2] Since I have not actually seen the film Superman Returns.

Friend Eric “c” Willis shamed me into finishing what I started. Woe unto you. Without further ado:

And how is the Edge not on this list?

Well, my work is done here for now. Please comment with your suggestions, lists.

[1] I’m so not capable of sincere criticism, and please, let it come as no suprise to learn that was a smart-alecky statement.

[2] My suggested title, if anyone’s listening: Basket-Making Machine

AFI has gone and thrown down the gauntlet re: the 100 most “inspiring” movies of all time.

That means that it’s probably one of those rare times where I add “fresh” commentary. The bad news is the only real “commentary” will be that I’m not so on-top-of-the-game when it comes to classic movies.

Hang on…

So, were a movie (or anything) to inspire me, it should jolt me into action. Ok. Am I allowed to predict that this isn’t going to end well?

So, I know I’m going to be perceived as being insincere for this, but where is Taxi Driver on this list?

this post contains links to sound and video and stuff, but (as far as I know) no porn. Unfortunately. Maybe next time.

In my standard excellent style, I’ve fallen into the YouTube k-hole hard in the past week, what… 12 months behind the masses? 24 months? Five years? Who knows. No one knows.

So, for the benefit of the one other person out there who a) is logged in 24×7xOO but b) doesn’t know, YouTube is a video networking site. Post a video, it goes to their server, and gets streamed on demand. Rate it, talk about it, have fun. Make playlists. Like Google Video, but better as far as I can tell… and without pay content.

Well, it was better… when there was a ton of copyrighted content out there to watch for free, and (at the time, inexplicably) no one (i.e. the copyright holders) seemed to be doing anything about it.

There is a s*itload of clearly copyrighted content on YouTube, such as this immortal ruby from Bob and David[1]:

It did make me wonder, how the hell are people getting away with posting this stuff?

Well, I guess not everyone is… given the amount of ripped SNL content available last week (quite a bit) versus this week (one, that I could find in five minutes of searching; of course, it’s a bit so powerful that it will really make you, you know, explore the space)[3].

Which leads us to this truly puzzling specimen.

Which means YouTube is probably not going to be as great next week as it was last week.

Which really brings me back to the number five, and the fact that everyone[2] clearly discovered YouTube last week. So maybe I’m not behind the curve after all. I am using Google Calendar, people.

Anyway, re: YouTube… you can still search on wardrobe malfunction and get some hits, so the ball is still in play.

rds

[1] Bob Odenkirk and David Cross, formerly of HBO’s Mr. Show with Bob and David are the demiurge of modern comedy and I respect them tremendously, despite me kind of screwing them over by posting this link to content they’d, I’m sure, rather be selling on a DVD. But come’on - the Story of the Greatest Story Ever Told is so great, so tremendous, it should be in the public domain, for the good of humanity. Also, Monsters of Megaphone. Sports bra, sports bra, lifts and separates. Sports bra, baby won’t giggle around. Now she’s running all over towne. Thank you!”

[2] Namely people who have copyrights on their intellectual property and are willing to fight for it.

[3] And NBC clearly hasn’t found it yet.

[4] And yes, I know [4] isn’t anchored by anything, but if you don’t know who David Cross is, that’s ok, I won’t shame you, but it’s a situation that needs to be fixed. Perhaps a topic for another time. Or, if you don’t want to wait for that other time [5] you can read this(profane; brilliant). Also, he dated Chloe from 24.

[5] Which will probably never come.

## Update

RIAA gets on deck v. Google Video / YouTube. Takedown.

Reservoir Dogs in 30 seconds with bunnies reminiscent of life in hell. (Flash, brilliant, profane)

The rest are available here.

Thanks to Steve T.

rds

American Idol: Season 5 Encores, Simon Fuller’s first major cash-in on Idol 5 “talent”[1], contains many truly mediocre performances and a few dull gems.

The CD contains one studio rendition of a previously performed song from each of the Top 12 Idol 5 contestants.

Let’s do this:

Ace Young - Father Figure by George “No Really… I’m Straight” Michael: Thin, not sufficiently differentiated from original. The point? Wake me up before you go-go.

Bucky Covington - Superstition (Stevie): Unlike almost all his appearances on the show, I can actually understand most of the words to this rendition, so I have to give it at least a 5/10 for that. I kind of wish he did ‘Fat Bottom Girls’ for this album, though, because to hear Bucky warble through Freddie Mercury just one more time would have been… funny!

Chris Daughtry - Wanted Dead or Alive (Bon Jovi): Like the Bon Jovi, except thinner (and, according to an Entertainment Weekly review I read, Chris sings both Jon and Richie’s parts; woo hoo!). It could be said that most of these songs suffer from the same issue: if you’re going to do a cover song, aren’t you supposed to make it your own instead of offering up a version that is the same as the original? All these covers do is showcase that the Idols are not as good a singer (or perhaps they had a less talented producer) as the original artist.

Elliott Yamin - Moody’s Mood for Love (eh, eh?): You know, I don’t know the original, but this is Elliott in his ellimentt. Looking forward to his all-scat record.

Katharine McPhee - Think (Aretha): You’re not Aretha Franklin; you’re skinny, tall, white and can’t sing nearly as well. Robotic and effortlessly good… which isn’t a good thing in this case. Took no risks. In the chorus that goes, “Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!” it’s clear that she’s not pushing it at all. If she had gone for overdrive in the chorus, this may have had something.

Kellie Pickler - Walkin’ After Midnight (Patsy “Pull Up!” Cline): I don’t know the original, and I’m not a big fan of country, but to quote Dave Navarro from Rock Star: INXS, “I could hear this song on the radio right now”. She sounds as good as any other female country singer that I’ve stumbled across when scanning the dial. But regardless of her music career, I’m still very much looking forward to her inevitable appearance in Playboy and/or Penthouse.

Kevin Covais - … whatever. You’re horrible, boy. It wasn’t novelty that got you into the Final 12, it was morbid fascination. You are the anti-christ and Gollum rolled into one. I don’t mean either of those in a good way.

Lisa Ticker - Signed, Sealed, Delivered (Stevie Wonder): Dunno if it’s as good as the original, but to me this sounds like a professional recording.

Mandisa - I’m Every Woman (Whitney “Show Me The Receipts for All this Crack” Houston): Thin. Maybe the song’s “too big for her”.

Melissa McGhee - What About Love (Heart): I think I’m understanding that my minor infatuation with her breasts was shielding me from what is obvious to everyone: she really can’t (or, nominally, doesn’t) sing very well. On this recording, there are no distractions to hide the truth, so I was forced to face it.

Paris Bennett - Midnight Train to Georgia (Gladys Knight?): It’s good, but not great. It is amazing how she sounds, being seventeen or whatever. She’ll have a career. Thank you!

Taylor Hicks - Takin’ It To The Streets (Doobie Brothers): I mean, it’s fine. There’s nothing about it (other than being listed last in the track listing) that says “this guy was going to win AI 5″. It’s a capable Michael MacDonald copy, taken to the streets. Soul patrol… whoooo! Hopefully he’ll follow up with both “Yah Mo Be There” and “Shine Sweet Freedom” (both duets with Elliott Yamin) on his first album.[2]

So, in summary: This album was $9.99 from the iTunes Music Store, and I’m fairly confident I’ll never be listening to it again.

[1] Not counting the millions already made via producer’s salary, licensing, ad revenue, et et etc squeak etc.

[2] In hindsight, I realized at writing time I somehow had the album tracklist in alphabetical, not canonical, order, so Taylor really isn’t the last track. Who is? Who can say…

rds