1) Counting Down The Hours – Shake The Sheets – Ted Leo/Pharmacists

One of the stronger songs on a phenomenal album, Counting Down the Hours starts with a lonely acoustic strum and blasts off into a “Town Called Malice” style romp with its Motown rhythms and some pretty sweet couplets. “I’m out in California where the spring runs hot and cold / if I told you I felt ageless, would you tell me that I’m old?”

2) All Hands Against His Own – Rubber Factory – The Black Keys

When the Keys lock down into a serious, ass-shaking groove like this track, they are arguably the best two-piece on Earth. They’re locked in for a frightening majority of Rubber Factory, by the way.

4) Alright, Alright – Jennie Bomb – Sahara Hotnights

I saw them play in front of The Hives and all their songs now are so 80′s inflected that it all sounds like either bad Pat Benatar or mediocre Scandal. I like shooting at the walls of heartache (bang, bang) as much as the next guy, but I liked the Hotnights better off when they were the garage Runaways, as they are here.

5) Two-Timing Touch and Broken Bones – Tyrannosaurus Hives – The Hives

There are… I think three solid tracks on the new Hives record. This is one of them. I keep waiting for repeated listens of the record to unearth some more goodness, but it never really happens. This song is 80 times better live though, when the guitars are louder than Howlin’ Pelle.

6) Young Lions – Shine a Light – The Constantines

I never really “got” the Constantines before, particularly the Springsteen comparisons. Well, “Young Lions” popped up on the IPod and, fuck, it really does kind of sound like Springsteen with a fuzzed up rhythm guitar.

7) Turn It On – Dig Me Out – Sleater-Kinney

One of my favorite live jams from S-K, the little section where Corin whisper-sings the bridge and then launches into the “Turn it On” chorus just blows up the place every time. Everyone instantaneously changes from a slow hip grinding mass into a pogoing madhouse. Confession: I can sing along to this song, and I can clap along to this song, but I cannot do both at the same time.

8) I Never – More Adventurous – Rilo Kiley

When I listened to More Adventurous for the first time, this track just jumped out and kicked me in the nose. This song is an old-school combination of torchy pop soul and country balladry and Jenny Lewis turns in a performance that Connie Francis and Dusty Springfield and Patsy Cline would all be proud of. Total Wow.

9) The Weight – The Last Waltz – The Band

The Band. The Weight. Take a load off, Annie. There’s not much to say about this record, other than it’s still pretty dang good.

10) Come Crash – Slow Wonder – AC Newman

This song takes a while to get started, but I love the cacophonous chorus, with the thunder crashes and chimes and what not.

11) Bridges and Balloons – Milk Eyed Mender – Joanna Newsom

Man, this chick’s voice is creepy as fuck! Imagine a possessed twelve year old girl singing over a harp that’s being picked like a folk guitar and you might get the picture. Once I overcame my initial fear, I found the album to be strangely mesmerizing.

12) Bach Prelude #2 in C Minor – Imaginaryland – Petra Haden

Haden likes to do these multi-track acapella things, and they’re all pretty cool. It’s kind of like Bobby McFerrin except she doesn’t beat herself to death making drum sounds. She just sings and creates a one-woman choir through the magic of technology.

13) Such Great Heights – Garden State – Iron and Wine

Sam Beam’s cover of the Postal Service track made if from a B-Side onto the big screen, where it gets to be the soundtrack to Natalie Portman getting nekkid. OK, not really, but I figured that mention might push a little more business towards the movie, and I’m always willing to help.

14) A Fond Farewell – From a Basement On A Hill – Elliott Smith

Smith’s ability to take the simplest songs and make them bone shivering is highlighted here. This track is incredibly uncomfortable to listen to, as it plays like a eulogy to himself.

a little less than a human being
a little less than a happy high
a little less than a suicide
the only things that you really tried

this is not my life
its just a fond farewell to a friend
its not what im like
its just a fond farewell to a friend
who couldnt get things right

Posted in Mixtape 6 Comments »

One of the only rules of thumb that apply to both blogging and rocking out on stage is this: Never Apologize. I mean, would Howlin’ Pelle Almqvist ever say that he’s sorry that he hasn’t updated his blog in weeks? I don’t think so. He would say that you’re lucky to be reading this entry right now, and that instead of whining you should revel in the glory that is this! Only he’d say make it sound cool in his really bizarre Swedish accent so that you could only really understand half of it. So is this review late? YES! Am I sorry? Sure, I have some regrets. Did I see the Hives a few weeks ago and love it? You bet your life.

There’s not a lot of cred in pushing the Hives anymore. After their last Los Angeles show in 2002 at the Roxy, the Hives rode the garage rock revival to heavy rotation on radio and MTV alike and signed a multimillion dollar real money deal with Interscope and toured heavily on the festival circuit behind “Veni Vidi Vicious” (We Came, We Saw, It was Vicious). With a lackluster new release, “Tyrannosaurus Hives,” the Swedish saviors of rock came to the Henry Fonda Theater with a lot to prove, and a reputation as monstrous live act to live up to.

Luckily, their outfirst were terrific. Dressed in black with white jackets and ties, the Hives looked like the slickest bunch of valets you’ve ever seen. Sonically, the group is ragged and relentless like a garage punk band should be, powering through twenty some-odd songs in the span of an hour. The best Hives’ song combine a manic, nervy energy with a few good hooks, but once they’re performing, the music is an afterthought. The rhythm section of Chris Dangerous and Dr. Matt Destruction stay rigid and upright while guitarists Nick Arson and Vigilante Carlstroem hunch over with their heads bobbing like dashboard ornaments. The whole whirlwind is fronted by Howlin’ Pelle Almqvist, a strutting and preening madman that’s taken the moves of Jagger and Daltrey and throws in a few of his own. Like few other bands, the Hives swagger and stagger like they’re rock stars, and you know what? They are.

The show started with “Abra Cadaver” but didn’t really kick off until the 3rd song, the bratty anthem “Main Offender,” a recognizable hit that set the crowd afire. Once the audience lit up, so did the band. The jackets came off and their black shirt sweated through and Nick Arson was blazing so hard that he kept blowing on his fingers like some kind of … wait, who the hell blows on their fingers? What was Howlin’ Pelle up to, you ask? In between David Lee Roth jumpkicks and launching himself into the crowd, Almqvist teased and taunted the crowd with his hyperbolic stage-banter. The general gist of all of it was “We love you. Do you love us? We are great. We love us. I think that midget over there wants to have sex with me.” I couldn’t quite understand it all, but it was hilarious all the same.

The new material had a rougher edge live that made it much more tolerable, and songs like “Two-Timing Touch and Broken Bones” and “Walk Idiot Walk” represented itself well. They only played five or six songs off the new record, saving most of the setlist for “vicious” material like “Hate To Say I Told You So,” “Supply and Demand” and “A Get Together to Tear It Apart.”

At one point Almqvist asked “Is it good? Is it great? Is it genius? Is it brilliant? Is it THE HIVES?” Yes. Yup. Un-hunh. Affirmative. Of course! It’s the Hives. Even if you don’t think they’re your favorite band, they’ll tell convince you anyway.

Posted in From Blown Speakers Comments Off

Most of the time Duffy likes to yell at me about how L.A. gets all the great concerts and all the good tours. Well, we also have the Pacific Amphitheater at the Orange County Fair, which just completed one of the craziest summer schedules I have ever seen. I have never seen a larger collection of has-beens and general kitschy suckiness before. I could probably enjoy a few of those shows, if say, I brought my own time machine.

I would have posted this at the beginning of the summer, but I didn’t want anyone to be tricked into going.

THE LIST:
The Fab Four (Beatles Cover Band)
Psychedelic Furs/Berlin/Gene Loves Jezebel
Reba McEntire
Hoobastank/Lit
Righteous Brothers (actually just Bill Medley)
Train
Ozomatli/Dance Hall Crashers
Carrot Top
Hootie and the Blowfish (!!!)
Patti Labelle
Newsboys
Bill Cosby
Go-Gos
Hank Williams
Jackson Browne
John Fogerty
Don Henley
Sugar Ray
Jessica Simpson
ZZ Top
Boston

Posted in From Blown Speakers Comments Off

tilting at windmills <– clicky for more pictures

Posted in Eratta No Comments »

In case anyone doesn’t know, Rilo Kiley‘s third full-length More Adventurous will be available in stores tomorrow. I’ve never been a big Rilo Kiley backer, but the new album is one of the top 5 things I’ve listened to this year and it’s my duty to report that, particularly since they’re one of the few LA based bands that seem to be any good at all.

For promotional purposes, they’ll be having an instore at Amoeba on Sunset tomorrow and at Fingerprints in Long Beach on Wednesday. Those that can’t make it should at least buy the record at your local… uh, wherever one buys records these days.

Posted in From Blown Speakers Comments Off

If you cut yourself with a Mach3 razor just right, you will cut yourself in three places at once. Three parallel lines right on my chin. That should make for an interesting looking scab.

I feel retarded. Right now, that’s an insult to retarded people.

Posted in Eratta 4 Comments »

Riding Giants was just another surf documentary about big wave riding. It’s less wide-eyed and naive than the Brown family movies like Endless Summer or Step Into Liquid, but it doesn’t have nearly as much breathtaking footage as Step Into Liquid either. I thought this was disappointing coming from Stacey Peralta, who put together Dogtown and Z-Boys.

Metallica: Some Kind of Monster is probably the funniest movie I’ve seen this year. It’s like Spinal Tap with a reality TV show twist, as you see Metallica run around with therapists and Gandalf and admit their gay love for each other while Dave Mustaine stands at the edges talking about how he misses smoking dirtbongs with his “little Norwegian friend” Lars. The band bills it as a document about how they overcame substance abuse and internal conflict to put together a landmark metal album. Everyone else can watch it to see rich, whiny, petulant egos wreck a metal legacy.

Bourne Supremacy bored me to tears. Seriously. There’s a few decent action sequences in it, but they’re barely watchable with the shaky camerawork. Without any partners or foils, the Jason Bourne character is just far too dull to carry the movie anywhere. That said, he still looks at road maps before he starts on a car chase, which I think is hilarious.

Garden State is supposed to be a melancholy character drama, but for the first hour it’s really a series of skits as b-actor Andrew Largeman, played by Scrubs’ Zach Braff, returns home to Jersey after his mother dies. It’s funny but aimless, saved by a super sense of mood and composition in Braff’s shotmaking and good use of two year old KCRW music. There is actually a plot after a while, and the movie becomes sweeter and warmer as Natalie Portman shows up more, even if some of the monologues ring false on occassion. As writer/director/actor, Braff’s first major motion picture is an understated and extremely likable piece of work.

Harold and Kumar‘s not nearly as funny as I wanted it to be, but it’s always a pleasant surprise to see East and South Asians on screen together, getting fucked up as often as they show off their math skillz. I wish there were less dead spots, but the cameos by Neil Patrick Harris, a cheetah and an anthropomorphic bag of weed were all perfect. After the movie was done, I wanted White Castle so bad, probably because I’ve never had White Castle before and don’t know how sucky the burgers really are.

Collateral is a gritty little thriller made by Michael Mann, who apparently is trying to get back to his gritty little thriller roots after a shit load of three hour movies. The movie is pretty much a two man play in a moving set with Jamie Fox’s humble cab driver driving around Tom Cruise’s homicidal hitman around a high contrast, low light Los Angeles. I never thought I’d like a movie with those two in it, but Foxx builds admirably on his low key work in Ali and Tom Cruise plays an asshole, so that works out great! I think this movie works even better if you imagine Tom Cruise’s “Vince” character as the same “Vince” from Color of Money. Actually, it doesn’t add anything to the movie, but I just think it’s funny. Best supporting performance goes to Cruise’s hair, which is something close to ridiculous.

Takashi Miike’s Gozu is subtitled Yakuza Horror Theater, but barely lives up to its billing. There are certainly Yakuza, but it’s not particularly horrifying as much as it is kooky and weird. Transvestite diners and inns where lactating old ladies co-habitate with tonsil hockey minotaurs aren’t really scary as much as they are just fucked up for no real reason. There are a few brilliant moments, but for the most part Gozu is a bunch of bland non-sequiturs.

Posted in Moving Pictures 2 Comments »

Let’s put it to bed now. It’s been a full three weeks since ComicCon, most everyone’s got their reports and pics up.

McCubbin‘s got hers, which includes good pics of me with Mini-Han as well as one with Sam and me.

Jon‘s got this massive huge writeup that also includes a pic of me with my fly open (YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO CLICK).

Megan’s got one here, to go along with the photo collection I linked up earlier. It’s pretty good but I’m docking points because I’m not mentioned in it.

Matt Fraction teamed up with Joe Casey to bring us a report from seedy underbelly of ComicCon, which includes superhero mash-up porn and cockfighting. Dude, Matt. I’m bringing a fighting cock named Clucky Jones and he will make everyone look like hens.

Dan Evans never wrote one, but he did send me this pic, which everyone’s been telling me is adorable, even though I look pissed as hell. In a similar vein, Kelly Sue tells me this picture by Andi Szilagyi is heeeeeeeeeee-larious, although I think it’s possibly the worst picture of me ever.

There are others of course, but I’m not in any of them and I’m trying to keep the SDCC recaps as self-centered as humanly possible.

Posted in Eratta No Comments »

It’s been brought to my attention that those kids that use Livejournal can read this blog via a Livejournal feed located at hanhatesyou. Now, I didn’t set this up and I’m not sure who did. So that sort of creeps me out.

I went ahead and turned a full feed on it too, so you’ll be able to read the full entry instead of just the excerpt. I actually have RSS2.0 and Atom feeds as well, but I keep forgetting to link them on le sidebar.

Posted in Eratta 2 Comments »

Bear with me here. I’m watching “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire,” and the very first question is about Snow White being helped by seven dwarfs. I’m looking at the answers and seeing dwarfs and thinking… that’s not right is it? It’s dwarves.

So I check imdb, and lo and behold, it’s Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs. So I do a lookup “dwarfs dwarves” and find this:

Traditionally, the plural of dwarf was “dwarfs”, but ever since J. R. R. Tolkien used dwarves in his fantasy-epic The Lord of the Rings, the plural forms “dwarfs” and “dwarves” have been used interchangeably. (When discussing Tolkien’s universe, though, only the latter should be used.)

Go fucking figure! Basically if you spell it with a “v” you play too much D&D or other related nonsense. How have I gone this long without realizing this?

Random note: Tonight I made pasta with ground turkey and I dedicated it to former roomie Axel Schwarz. Maybe tomorrow I’ll do his other patented recipe of Beans and Rice With Tons of Crap On It.

Posted in Eratta 10 Comments »