Record: Pitty Sing 'Pitty Sing' (2005)

Unrealized potential makes me want to cry, and this album is a perfect example why. It's not a great record; the songs are all over the place, the lyrics oscillate between witty, trashy, and trite, and the obsessive-sounding overproduction is just plain off. But the talent! It oozes out from between the grooves, displaying so, so much potential greatness, and it's a real tragedy for music that they never made another album. I remember hearing this when it first came out and thinking I'd discovered the next best thing since candy. The flaws here do shine as brightly as the facets - but there's still that undeniable appeal of something lurking in the music, set off rather wonderfully by the unusual harmonic progressions, the unobtrusively clever basslines, and Paul Holmes' outrageously sexy vocals floating atop a wash of sadly-digital-sounding synths. The right combination of time, experience, stern management, and better production might have resulted in one of the best bands of the decade - Steve Nye could have made these guys into stars! - and it's a damned shame we don't get to hear what that sounds like.

Favourite tracks: We're On Drugs (most solid song on the record), Anyway (a little overblown, but it's an awfully good tune), and ctwyl (fantastic use of that lovely voice).

Book: Daniel Silva 'Portrait of a Spy' (2011)

I think it's time for Mr. Silva to make good on his often-broken promise to let poor Gabriel Allon retire. Allon had a great run in his blood-and-paint-spattered career as mild-mannered art restorer by day, Israeli James Bond by night, but he has at last fallen prey to one of the hazards of being a long-running fictional character: he's become a formula. Portrait is book 11 in what has been a pretty good series of politically-based espionage thrillers. The first few were entertaining; the middle books were outstandingly good. Sadly, the later books seem mostly comprised of reworked bits from those excellent middle books.

The recipe: Gabriel and his beautiful young wife retire to Cornwall so he can paint in peace. An international terrorism crisis occurs. Gabriel says 'oh, yes, of course I will un-retire and save the world from the Arabs, but just this once. Again.' He and his team of super-spies come up with a dangerous plan to catch the terrorist leaders, which inevitably hinges on recruiting a beautiful woman who is rich, famous, or otherwise special. She bravely does her part, then gets captured and tortured. Gabriel kills a lot of bad guys, then sacrifices himself to save her. Then he goes back to Cornwall to recover, and swears he'll never spy/kill/save the world again. Until the next book.This one's a little different because the beautiful rich woman gets killed, but it turns out to be okay because she was dying anyhow.

Book 12 comes out later this year. I'll probably read it, out of morbid curiosity, habit, and the hope that something different will happen this time...

Record: Kings of Leon 'Youth & Young Manhood' (2003)

If you can explain to me why I feel guilty about loving this record, I'll take you out for ice cream*. Seriously, I will! I couldn't begin to tell you why, but I have to admit that Kings of Leon fall squarely into the category of bands I wouldn't want my friends to know I like. Which is totally stupid, because this catchy, raucous little record is a hell of a good time, and one has cheered me up rather a lot during the past week or so. I do find it a little off-putting that singer Caleb F. sounds so astonishingly, incoherently hammered - like he's maybe swigging some really terrible Southern beer every time he stops singing to 'take a breath' - but his style does fit the music, and the music is really pretty decent.

Favourite tracks: 'Happy Alone' (the sheer quantity of madcap drunken glee is irresistible), 'Joe's Head' (I LOVE Jared F.'s slidy, melodic bassline on this weirdly cheery murder ditty), and the menacingly groovy 'Holy Roller Novocaine'.

*next time we hang out. Sorry if that takes a while to happen, but I'm rarely in your part of the world...

Film: 'The Graves' (2009)

Spoiler alert: BOOBS!

Joking aside, this film is, sadly, pretty awful. It's supposed to be a horror film, but it's not even a little bit scary. It's also neither funny nor original, which puts it pretty far down the list of things you might want to see. I watched it solely because it contains the only candidate I support for the upcoming United States presidential election (read his blog, it's kind of wonderful). Unfortunately his part is far too brief, and there's really nothing else to look forward to. Except the aforementioned boobs. Leading lady Clare Grant, though her role is rather flat, is possessed of a truly impressive rack. Thankfully, she spends most of the film running. While wearing a really low-cut shirt.

 Checkitout, even the trailer is bad!

Record: Porcupine Tree 'The Incident' (2009)

[I broke my wrist. This makes typing a serious nuisance, particularly capital letters, but it also makes me so bored - I can't do very much of anything useful - that one-handed typing seems like a worthwhile diversion. Excessive reviews may be forthcoming... For now, on to the record of the hour.]

Warning: this record may eat your soul.

Well, okay, maybe not yours - I don't know how susceptible you may be. It did eat mine though; I couldn't listen to anything else for a month after first hearing. It's such a perfectly complete self-contained sonic universe that no other music sounded right until I'd burned this into my consciousness solidly enough that I didn't need to hear it all of the time. The music is incredible, exquisitely beautiful melodies woven through bitter harmony and harshly distorted, brutally melancholic riffs. The band has never played better; Colin Edwin's tastefully (and sometimes deceptively) simple basslines really shine through the achingly beautiful haze of the stupendous Richard Barbieri's wall-of-synth. The mix is unusually clean, achieving that rare beast, perfect balance. This just might be the best headphones album ever made. I'm not sure I could name the other 4, but this is definitely one of my top 5 records.

Film: 'Stop Making Sense' (1984)

The show ends. The credits roll. My Dad turns to me and says "...You know how [our friends] P. and R. have to watch 'Hair' every year? ...I gotta see this every year."

I couldn't possibly have said it better myself, but here's my 3 cents:
Watch this film. It's a wonderful portrait of a great band putting on a spectacular, rivetingly peculiar show. The cinematographic construction absolutely does justice to the frenetically bizarre performers (thanks, Jonathan Demme!), and the ever-changing backdrops are enviably clever. Plus - David Byrne, live! Possibly the weirdest guy in rock & roll, he's certainly one of the most entertaining. Do see it, you'll be missing out on such a treat if you don't.

Highlight: there are two -
1. The special guest appearance by Tom Tom Club, performing 'Genius of Love', and the iconic
2. "Anyone got a match?"

Film: 'Microcosmos' (1996)

Cinematography: Doubleplusgood.
Narration: N/A (= fail).
Soundtrack: WTF?!

I hate nature documentaries. Nature is supercool, generally speaking, but the makers of these wretched pieces of work have an incredible penchant for stripping all semblance of meaning from the natural world. This one is no exception. Though filmed in impressive and often beautiful (and sometimes incredibly disgusting) close-up detail, the almost total lack of narration means that one spends the whole film going "but why are those bugs fighting?" "but WHY are the caterpillars marching in lines, is someone about to snort them or something?" "what is that thing?" 
The soundtrack is nothing short of execrable. It sounds as if they remixed a really awful early-20th-century opera with Tom Waits' worst drunken moments and also a gentrified circus side show.
Highlight: a pheasant eating ants. 

This film would probably be perfect if you projected it on the ceiling during a party and spiked the punch with LSD.

Book: Steve Earle 'I'll Never Get Out Of This World Alive' (2011)

Okay, I promise not to mention Steve Earle again for at least 10 posts. After this one, that is - Mr. Earle's debut novel has my vote for the best book of 2011, so I have to write about it. First of all, the man can write - anyone who pays attention to that sort of thing will be deeply satisfied by the style and grace with which he strings words together. Secondly, it's awfully rare that someone takes grim subject matter (in this case junk addicts, slums, whores, the Kennedy assassination, an accidentally-pregnant Mexican girl, and a discredited doctor turned back-alley abortionist who is haunted by the ghost of Hank Williams) and manages to create something which isn't depressing, disheartening, or just plain ugly. This book is so far from being ugly I think I'd have to label it something pretentious like transcendentally lovely, which, on second thought, doesn't seem excessive as a description for a story that travels from a Texas brothel to a Mexican valley full of Monarch butterflies. The book is named for Hank's last song, which you might like to listen to for context; there's also rather a good record of the same name which Earle released last year. I love, love, love this book - it's beautiful and heartbreaking and lyrical and sometimes funny, and also just a plain ol' good story - please, please read it.

What I originally wrote after reading this: 'I'm going to write a review once I can find the words, but in the meantime, please read this astonishingly beautiful little book. It will touch a corner of your heart that you might not even have known about.'

Film: 'Heartworn Highways' (1981)

I've never much cared for country music. There's always an exception though; in this case that's a handful of artists who belonged to the Outlaw Country movement of the 1960s and 70s, particularly Guy Clark, Larry Jon Wilson, and the immortal Townes Van Zandt. Their anachronistic style, harking back to the days before Chet Atkins' slickly modern 'Nashville Sound', was firmly rooted in the honky-tonk and folk music tradition of authenticity - these musicians usually managed to sound like they were thinking of something other than money while they sang. It's good stuff. This lovely little documentary shows a motley assortment of performances, interviews, and recording studio sessions by quite a few country greats (including Guy, Larry Jon, Townes, Charlie Daniels, and a very young Steve Earle). I'd say it's a must-watch even if you think you don't like country music; you just might change your mind. I know I did. Definitely watch the extras.

Highlight: Guy Clark repairing Billy Callery's guitar (seriously - it's mesmerizing). Oh, yeah, and the soundtrack is rather good.

Film poster featuring Townes & Uncle Seymour Washington