614 March '15

Write what you know. That's the proverbial advice to all "writers," right?

Well, then (...that sounded awful), I was commandeered by 614 to write about the Cincinnati Reds' Opening Day. Since I've worn that same path for almost 15 years, surely there are some Cincinnatians who think my musings are sacrilegious. Tell me what I'm "saying" wrong here if you must, but this is my best optimization of the Queen City's unique, and celebratory, normal-ness.

A Queen City Field Guide

There's also a great introduction to Columbus' best new great hope, Kizzy Hall, HERE

...and as someone "in the music" it's always a thrill to still get to talk to people who are making "in the music"-music great. I probably haven't been as psyched to see a band as I am for Foxygen (...and it's at Skully's!). 

So...my interview with Foxygen was by far the best interviews I've done in some while. 

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Best Films of 2014

Just under the buzzer in time for this year's Oscars, here's a list of my favorite films of 2014. This by no means a study of what I think are the "best," just a survey of what I found to be the most entertaining -- and some which I believe were ignored. Being in Ohio -- and subject to short runs and/or no screens at all -- it takes a while to get caught up. It's February and I'm still not caught up. I'd still like to see Under the Skin (which I fully expect would have made this list), The Theory of Everything, Two Days, One Night, Still Alice, Timbuktu, Ida, Gone Girl, and Selma -- but they'll have to wait. 

1. Boyhood

(dir. Richard Linklater)

When I first heard about Linklater's Boyhood "project" finally wrapping, I wholly intended it to be a just that, a "project." I expected a series of vignettes, some moments of philosophical waxing on what it means to "grow up," and a loose thread to tie it all together. I didn't expect something this prophetic, which Boyhood is, even when it comes to the smallest details. I'm not a single mother, a deadbeat dad with a heart of gold, a introverted kid stuck in the middle, but by the end of Boyhood it kind of felt like my youth had just flashed before my eyes in a momentary blink. I could have sat and watched it for another three hours. All of the accolades lauded upon Boyhood are deserved and its singularity (no one will ever make another Boyhood -- unless of course Linklater is currently filming "The College Years") will secure it as a monument in film for years to come. 

2. Whiplash

(dir. Damien Chazelle)

By no means are Whiplash and Birdman the same movie. I didn't keep Birdman off of this list as a slight. It's entirely worth your time, as is Foxcatcher, just not one that I intend to ever re-visit. Both of these films though operated on a particular rhythm, and for damnation on my soul for using such a pun, Whiplash had the better "beat." The chemistry between Miles Teller and J.K. Simmons is combustible in every single scene. It's shows that the hero's journey -- the rise, fall, and redemption -- can be fit into any scenario and be engrossing. Were you to tell me that the no-frills story of a promising jazz drummer and his "mentor" was going to be my second favorite movie at the beginning of 2014.....

3. Inherent Vice

(dir. Paul Thomas Anderson)

I don't wanna be one of those hyper-literate know-it-alls who tells you that you need to "READ" Inherent Vice before you go to see the Paul Thomas Anderson epic on the big screen. I will say though, that it makes the film much more enjoyable. PTA lifts Pynchon's enigmatic prose straight from the book pastes it directly into the screenplay -- so it's bound to not make much sense, seeing as the book is wild and woolly enough.  Enough people have walked out, complained about it's density and whispered dialogue, and chalked it up as a failure for PTA. I'm still wrapping my head around it -- and intend, just like with The Master, to study and unfold it for years to come. The biggest crime of this year's Oscars is that both Phoenix and Brolin did not get actor nominations. I blame it on the scope and ambition of PTA, who likely adheres to the dictum that the best "art" is that which we do not fully understand. 

4. The Grand Budapest Hotel

(dir. Wes Anderson)

I've never been a Wes Anderson apologist. Though his aesthetic is always cutely kaleidoscopic and arcane and his casts always a treat, as a filmmaker for the ages, he's never been completely consistent. For every Rushmore there's a Darjeeling Limited. The Grand Budapest Hotel though is Anderson finding a perfect balance between his visual craftiness and the adept storytelling that only pervades about half of his films. It's his masterpiece for now.  

5. Joe

(dir. David Gordon Green)

I'm amazed at how under-appreciated David Gordon Green has become in Hollywood. If you didn't see Prince Avalanche, start there for now. Like Prince Avalanche, Joe is yet another small, quiet, film from Green that simply doesn't garner the attention it deserves. Perhaps it's based in the popular opinion that Nicolas Cage is doomed to be a straight-to-video actor from now on? But Joe is easily his best performance since Bad Lieutenant. And the guy deserves some Oscar love beyond Leaving Las Vegas. 

6. Force Majeure

(dir. Ruben Ostlund)

On first glance Force Majeure might look like Haneke or Dardenne by way of IKEA. You'd be partially right, as it's an intense and prickly family drama from the moment Tomas pushes through the crowd, leaving his wife and kids in the line of an avalanche. To give audiences the climax in the first fifteen minutes of the film frames the falling action -- the slow, deflation of marriage and fatherly rule -- as the centerpiece. Visually the smart angles and rich architecture of the ski resort vs. the wild, majesty of the French Alps is a perfect metaphor for the artifice of the nuclear family vs. the natural law of raw emotion. Don't expect to leave the theater with much resolve. 

7. Rich Hill

(dir. Andrew Droz Palermo, Tracy Droz Tragos)

No matter what side you're on, there's no debate that in many parts of the U.S., especially among the "belts" of "rust and bibles," the American Dream is dead, and in most cases decaying around those who are generations removed from it. Rich Hill, a small enclave in Missouri, is not unique. This could be Oceana, WV, or Toledo, OH, or Bowling Green, KY. The directors here do not force any themes of resilience or hope upon their subjects. "This happens everywhere," should be the refrain. There have been many documentaries lately showing lives among the ruins, but none as intimate and existential as Rich Hill. 

Check out the trailer here. 

8. Guardians of the Galaxy

(dir. James Gunn)

Superhero movies have become a bland game of one-upmanship and I'm not keeping score. The special effects race, or lack thereof, has done little to separate one sequel to the next -- a continuous cycle of recycling and re-branding where any anticipation is lost in the confusion. I suppose it's curmudgeonly to say it's all gone downhill since Christopher Nolan's Batman trilogy. But wait....Guardians of the Galaxy pumped fresh blood into what it means to be a "popcorn" movie or a blockbuster (without a recognizable hero at it's core) that doesn't simply rely on SFX to move it along. Sure, it is a Marvel adaptation (a pretty obscure one though), but it felt original, surreal, comic and, with Chris Pratt as the lead, terrestrial, instead of trying to be bigger than life. A franchise? Let's hope not. 

9. Goodbye to Language

(dir. Jean-Luc Godard)

As far as filmic "language" goes, I have a love/hate relationship with Godard's oeuvre. There's no doubt he's a singular titan as a director, but too often his work is too pedantic to truly just enjoy -- especially in his later years. Goodbye to Language seems to violently break any mold Godard has set for himself in that phase. It also breaks any mold set for 3D film and that's what's most intriguing here. Much like Herzog's Cave of Forgotten Dreams, GTL is like nothing you've ever experienced at the theater. Godard uses the medium to create textual puzzles, expressionist displays of light and color, and mind-bending edits. You're so caught up in the visual (and sonic for that matter) experiments that any of the "plot" or philosophical rants are secondary.  

10. The Babadook 

(dir. Jennifer Kent)

Hopefully where horror is headed. Essie Davis deserves the Oscar for this performance. The kid deserves to die. Beetlejuice in a Brecht play. Can't say much more. It IS scary. Just go watch it. 

11. Snowpiercer

(dir. Joon-hon Bong)

Currently, where I am, I'm living in the winter dystopia of Snowpiercer, which makes it a perfectly good time to re-visit this early 2014 release. Bong's first-person shooter technique is innovative, even if I had GoldenEye tremors, Bong's kooky, "what's in the next train?" reveals (assassins with fish, a utopian school, the protein bar factory, Ed Harris) makes for a dark and adventurous thrill. 

12. Life Itself

(dir. Steve James)

A film primarily for people who like film. Indeed, Roger Ebert was a critic on his own terms, a force, and his void will likely never be filled. Life Itself would be powerful were it just a post-mortem, nostalgia-filled, document of his rise as not just the film world's pre-emanate cinephile but also as a social commentator. Instead, Steve James allows Ebert to be every part of his obituary or better yet, Ebert's final review of humanity. 

13. God Help the Girl 

(dir. Stuart Murdoch)

Admittedly it's been years since I considered the work of Belle and Sebastian as the same transcendental pop I once fawned over as a collegian full of equal strains melancholy and optimism. Perhaps Stuart Murdoch was feeling the same loss of magic before writing and directing his debut God Help the Girl. The film is a veiled origin story for B&S performed as a sometimes campy, but always bittersweet musical and a love letter to Glasgow, where that melancholy and optimism hangs over the characters like a happy little raincloud. I myself have felt the grand dread of meandering through the city's necropolis. It's also the story of Eve, the quintessential manic pixie, played expertly by Emily Browning, who grounds herself in a miasma of melody. Lastly, it questions "what is pop?" continuously, with a Hard Day's Night, "making the band" flair so rarely executed in pop culture these days. 

This clip kind of says it all. 

Bonus: Currently re-obsessed with Belle and Sebastian again. 

14. The Fault in Our Stars

(dir. Josh Boone)

I'm a sucker for teen drama. Degrassi, Skins, the Secret Life (of which Shailene Woodley was the star), and most recently the cinematic triumphs of teen drama on the big screen with The Perks of Being a Wallflower and The Spectacular Now (of which Woodley was again the star, noticing a trend) all have created an intense want for nostalgia when it comes to coming-of-age tales. Based on the book by YA phenom John Green, The Fault in Our Stars is a simple tale of young love facing death in the face. Waterworks are a given here as director Boone treats the book as if it were classic American literature. There is nothing precious, trite, or predictable here as every word counts. 

Bonus: Woodley also starred in the strangely addictive White Bird in a Blizzard, another coming-of-age story set in the early '80s. It's got all of the visual phantasms one can expect from director Gregg Araki, but also the penchant for listless, boring pacing. As such, I can't fully recommend that unless you know what to expect from Araki. 

15. They Came Together

(dir. David Wain)

Sure it's no Wet Hot American Summer and it's not even close to the rewarding re-watchability of Wain's last romp Wanderlust, but They Came Together is still tethered to the post-State cult of comedy that no one else is doing. Or if anyone's trying they aren't doing it this well. Perfectly skewing the romantic comedy almost to a fault, Poehler and Rudd play it as if this were a legitimate rom-com full of trap doors, in-jokes, and absurdist flashbacks. That this scene screened in suburban multiplexes is enough to allow Wain to do anything he wants. 

614 February '15

I had a busy month in the February issue of 614 Magazine. My long-gestating article on Keith Rankin, AKA Giant Claw finally saw publication. Really enjoyed the research and digging involved in this one, as Rankin is one of the city's world's most innovative young musicians. If you get the chance to see him do what he does live, do it.

In anticipation of the Wexner Center's upcoming Cinema Revival fest -- celebrating film restoration -- I profiled the Cohen Collection, a priceless archive that sits in an undisclosed location in Columbus. I had no idea it existed, so it was enlightening to see yet one more cultural institutions finding a home here.

Finally, Black Antler get heavy in the cold.

The Inherent Glow of Inherent Vice

I don't wanna be one of those hyper-literate know-it-alls who tells you that you need to "READ" Inherent Vice before you go to see the Paul Thomas Anderson epic on the big screen. I will say though, that it makes the film much more enjoyable. PTA lifts Pynchon's enigmatic prose straight from the book pastes it directly into the screenplay -- so it's bound to not make much sense, seeing as the book is wild and woolly enough. 

I'll have to see this again to make a full assessment. For now, my pal Jeff Weiss sat down with the director (lucky duck) to ask some of those burning questions. 

‘Inherent Vice’ is complex and subversive. Paul Thomas Anderson is pretty normal.

614 January '15

The January issue of 614 Magazine -- the Interview Issue -- is always one of my favorites. Always insightful dialogues with fascinating people. This year features interviews with Ted Williams (the "man with the golden voice"), Shelley Myer (Urban's bae), Bobby Silver (bass and pizza pioneer), and Greg Lashutka (former mayor of Columbus, speaker at my OSU commencement), 

I choose to spotlight local musician Sharon Udoh aka Counterfeit Madison. Our talk transcended the usual local music questions and jargon -- it gets deep. 

My interview Udoh. 

Per my monthly update on the Columbus music scene, I also talked with the Sidekicks.

My interview with the Sidekicks. 

...and here's a video for the latest single from their Epitaph debut Runners in the Nerved World,  "Summer Brings You Closer to Satan."

Best Albums of 2014

1. Ariel Pink - pom pom (4AD)

 Unless you count Ray Davies, Martin Newell (of Cleaners from Venus) and, by default, R. Stevie Moore -- Ariel Marcus Rosenberg is the greatest living pop songwriter. And while Mr. Pink has suffered, perhaps, less exposure sans the Haunted Graffiti, pom pom is, perhaps, his greatest triumph. Melding all of those time-warping ideas from the past, on albums like Worn Copy and House Arrest, into a full-on psychedelic smorgasbord of channel surfing. His opus in miniature (if only because larger things lay in the future).

My review

2. The Stevens - A History of Hygiene (Chapterhouse)

Charming naivety and osmotic pedigree. The Australian quartet, the Stevens, have a bit of both on their unassumingly perfect debut. It runs along without catching much attention on the first few listens, but begins to grow like welcomed tumor exponentially on each successive spin. All of the nostalgic indie-pop signifiers of the '90s can suffice in explaining A History of Hygiene (Pavement, the Clean, Arab Strap) but none come to define this band. Live their M.O. is even more enigmatic. I just hope they keep such a prolific streak going well into 2015 and beyond. 

Introducing...the Stevens

3. A Sunny Day in Glasgow - The Sea When Absent (Lefse)

So far, I've called ASDIG a band built in fragments. American Shoegaze, battered IDM, ethereal soothsaying, power electronics? The Sea When Absent, though again designed by members across the globe in a kaleidoscopic Jenga puzzle of layer, appears to level those planes enough to sound as complete and formed as they must initially broadcast in the mind of Ben Daniels. In a world that obsesses over the next note played by Kevin Sheilds, at least acknowledge that there is certainly life, and a transcendent, thriving life, beyond Loveless. 

My review

4. Javiera Mena - Otra Era (Union Del Sur)

I made mention of Javiera Mena four years ago in my 2010 Top Twenty. Back then I was ushering any audience who would listen into her siren coos and retro-futuristic disco. On the surface she played the pawn for my gregarious attraction to every beat borne of South America -- but she was among the elite. In the present, her model (mold?) is de riguer -- Robyn, Kieza, La Roux, Lana Del Rey -- and those percolations from Brazil, Argentina, and Mena's native -- can be found mutated in most of the Top 40. To humanity's benefit, Mena's latest stunner, is, as the title suggests, of another "era." Be it coke-fueled Moroder mirror-balled, or better, the subtle, electronically symphonic, "Pide." It's "todos beuno." I used to think to be international she'd need to heel to an English speaking audience, but no, this stuff is over the heads of the Western world, even hurdling that which is said to be the future of pop -- hence the reason I have none of her releases in a physical format (or why you don't hear her on American radio, yet). 

Watch "La Joya"

5. Aphex Twin - Syro (Warp)

I suppose it's ultimately a ephemeral, knee-jerk reaction to Syro that puts the album on this list. In the realm of Richard D. James, most might not include it as extraordinary, but in the sphere of someone who only dabbles in this type of circuitry, it translates as a landmark. It's one of those albums, when stacked against a now infinite sea of peers (i.e. anyone who incorporates MIDI into their music-making) the guy composes as if he's competing for the title of acid-house Noble laureate. "Did I just use acid-house as an adjective in 2014?" "Am I too out of touch to even touch Syro?" All I can gather in my own self-reflection of my self-reflective magnetism to only certain strands of electronic/dance is that Syro breaks tiny ceilings of linearity and melody -- and not to mention precog sonic palettes -- to blossom as a work I'll be listening to years down the road. 

Listen

6. Iceage - Plowing Into the Fields of Love (Matador)

Were you tell me -- upon seeing Iceage's first show in America -- that the Copenhagen "punks" would still be alive and well and still a Matador powerhouse today, I would have made a joke. It probably would not have made you laugh, because back then, even in my 30s, the white-hot combustion of Iceage's presence and fury made you feel like a 14-year-old looking for ways to score a buzz, while Crass and the Misfits played from some worn tape in the background -- of some basement or garage. Head full of ideas, execution full of violence and bad decisions, Iceage have now countered any controversy (well, maybe) and misgivings for being luckily green, with their most "mature" record in Plowing. Please heed my word and don't discount that this band can evolve even farther than they've already established on this record. But for now, this'll do as triumph of their stylish stoicism and gross melody -- rich with sophisticated blues. Yes, a new kind of post-millennial blues. 

Watch "The Lord's Favorite"

7. Eastlink - S/T (In the Red)

I don't know much about this record and this band and I prefer to keep it that way. It's better unraveled blindly, letting Eastlink's miscreant choogle cover you in its exhaust -- an "ignorance-is-bliss" cacophony. Like a number of just-missed LPs from the Unholy Two, Burnt Skull, and Mordecai, Eastlink's seemingly effortless debut revels in a po-mo freakout of paranoia and noisy, snaky boogie whether that's the intent or not. Listeners have learned to adapt, learned to dance, even to this, a Stonesian corpse defiled and worn as a scarred suit of skin. There are genuine sing-a-longs, "Nuggets" mutated over three generations, four guitars (!!!) all trying to stay on the same track, "songs," per the reason it's on this list and those aforementioned platters are not. 

8. Mac DeMarco - Salad Days (Captured Tracks)

It's a testament to Mac DeMarco and his third album, Salad Days, that we can now attach "straight" and "mainstream" to descriptions of his artistry. It all happened so organically. Or it's well choreographed chameleonic pop. He's got the bummer surf kids, the acid-fried Ween burn-offs, the lo-fi, dorm-room guitarists holding out for something wonkier, and every turnt millennial in between. I saw it with my own eyes. 

Saw him live

9. Ex Hex - Rips (Merge)

Wherein Mary Timony, she of Autoclave, Helium, and Wild Flag, emerges a phoenix once again with a concise and colorful blast of unapologetic, pretense-free power pop. I had the pleasure of opening some shows for the D.C. trio in March, well before the release of Rips, and by the third show most of this record was already embedded in our heads. It was that catchy and that flawless. Coincidentally, in a year where I was rescuing records by Dwight Twilley, NRBQ, and Phil Lynott, Ex Hex went ahead and made their own homage to that era of pop purity -- albeit with a '90s sensibility and a '10s workmanship. 

10. PC Music - DISown Radio Mix

It's rare that I'll include any kind of mixtape to a year-end list (actually I'm pretty sure it's unprecedented, unless I included Diplo's first mix for M.I.A. years back), but what the shadowy/commercially-bent PC Music enclave did with utopian electronic pop throughout the course of the year was undeniable. I spent much more time listening to singles from the likes of A.G. Cook, GFOTY, Sophie, and Kane West, than any traditionally formatted music. It's hyper-processed, plastic beyond plastic, Japanese kawaii cuteness, '80s Top 40 milked of nostalgic essence, poolside charm, neon baubles and sensory overload chopped into bite-sized, easily digestible moments of euphoria. This, hopefully, is where pop music is headed, and this mix, is going to be your best introduction to that future.

The Next Ten:

11. Foxygen - ...and Star Power (Jagjaguwar)

Expected much more in this, the duo's follow-up, and maybe there is much more. For now, it's dense and dark and still worthy of examination. Pick through it and there are number of shining gems to adore.

12. D'Angelo and the Vanguard - Black Messiah (RCA)

Another record where the jury's still out. It arrived just before the holidays when most of us were tidying up these here year-end lists. But it felt so good on first listen and stands to be an instant classic. Nothing this year sans Prince, came close to emitting such a stoned-funk sense of atmosphere.

13. Saintseneca - Dark Arc (Anti-)

Local folkies turn to dreams and nightmares, oddball stringed instruments, and even electric guitars to craft a giant record of infinite harmony and light.

My feature with the band

14. Giant Claw - Dark Web (Orange Milk)

Local introvert turns to '80s R&B and classical electronic composition to craft a giant record of cuts, glitches, and otherworldly beats. File right beneath the PC Music camp.

Great interview with Mr. Giant Claw

15. Spoon - They Want My Soul (Loma Vista)

The first Spoon album I've cared about in over a decade. It was probably a good idea for Britt Daniel to take some time off from his flagship, explore other waters, and then re-concentrate on the sometimes gritty, sometimes bratty, but above all lovelorn songwriting of his earliest days. Comeback of the year?

16. Taylor Swift - 1989 (Big Machine)

Erase "Shake it Off" from this record (and yes, I own the damn record) and you've got a spotless, crystalline pop effort. Undeniably so.

17. Merchandise - After the End (4AD)

Not nearly as brilliant as Children of Desire, but where that record's beauty through obfuscation  was the focal point, on After the End it's the magnification of Brit-obsessed maudlin pop. As much as it apes everything from Aztec Camera to Duran Duran, it traipses on those influences with pointed urgency.

18. Angel Olsen - Burn Your Fire For No Witness (Jagjaguwar)

File under -- it came out way back in February but I'm still playing it incessantly. I tend to lump all of this year's femme-folkish-firebrands into the same pile. You can have Grouper all day, she's got nothing on Olsen's impassioned songwriting.

19. The Gotobeds - Poor People Are Revolting (12XU)

I never thought Pittsburgh was much fun till I met these kids. Party record of the year.

20. Makthaversken - II (Run for Cover)

Basically an album full of torch song anthems played by indifferent Swedish punks -- reacting to the sweetness of standard issue Swedish punk. It's enthralling and recalls both the best of post-punk dourness and rip-it-clean '90s guitar rock. Be on the lookout, they're about to pounce in a big way methinks.