Song: Robyn Hitchcock 'Not Dark Yet' (2005)

This is really beautiful. I can't stand Bob Dylan (I know, I'm a heretic, burn me at the stake or whatever); I think most of his songs are horribly phony and pretentious, and calculatedly arty in a horribly smug sort of way. Every once in a while though, someone does a Dylan cover that makes me recognize the merit in a particular song (like MCR's cover of Desolation Row - yeah, I know, now you really want to burn me at the stake - well, bite me!), and this particular cover elevates that merit into the realm of genuine loveliness. Robyn's interpretation has a classy sort of softness to it, so different from the harsh original; his spare acoustic guitar winds beautifully together with John Paul Jones' (yes, that John Paul Jones) tasteful mandolin accompaniment in an unusually elegant take on an oft-recorded song.

Covers have such an odd and uncomfortable place in the music world. It's terribly irritating when a loathly, rotten band covers a great song, which is far too often what happens. Every once in a while a great artist manages to drastically improve on the original, as in John Cale's exquisite cover of Hallelujah and the Soft Cell version of Tainted Love. Here's an exceptional example of one of the most consistently underrated musicians I've heard covering one of the most consistently overrated:

Book: Alanna Mitchell 'Sea Sick' (2009)

Did you know that, according to the sorts of scientists who crank out obscure trivia, every tear you cry eventually ends up in the ocean? This is relevant here because Mitchell's book might cause you to shed tears of pure rage. Tackling the difficult subject of ocean change (a massive contributing factor to global climate change), she lists example after example of horrifying things that the human race has done to the seas and everything in them, including plastic islands, oxygenless 'dead zones' of water where nothing can live, and entire species fished to the brink of extinction. Thankfully she also lists things that can, could, and should be done to try and halt (or at least assuage) the potentially catastrophic effects of ocean and climate change. The question, as always, is whether enough people will give enough of a damn to change anything at all.

Sore subject aside, it's fascinating just to follow her research expedition as she travels the world visiting coral reefs, universities, Australians, starving Tanzanian villagers, floating laboratories, a marine conference in China, a paleoecological dig in Spain, and the bottom of the sea. I learned a ton of incredibly cool facts about phytoplankton (which produce about half of the world's atmospheric oxygen) and corals, and some rather less cool facts about modern fishing practises and why there are certain types of seafood we simply oughtn't to eat.

In case you might think that Mitchell is simply a paranoid alarmist or a bleeding-heart crackpot commie Canadian liberal, I'd like to point out that she was named by Reuters as the best environmental reporter in the world. That's hardly the title of a crackpot, rather the label of a great writer and a fanatically accurate researcher. Please do read her book.

Book: Grant Morrison 'Supergods' (2011)

This may be the most appetizing of all books about comics. Part evolutionary history of the superhero, part memoir of a life defined by this quirky and oft-maligned medium; served up in bite-sized chapters (I defy you to read just one!) by the quirky and oft-maligned writer of Arkham Asylum, The Invisibles, Kill Your Boyfriend (plug: this may be my favourite comic in the whole world), and All-Star Superman. Fascinating read - there are so many superheroes I've never even heard of! - best enjoyed with a notebook near at hand for keeping track of all the comics (also books, films, and records) you'll want to look up. A nice mix of straight-up history and personal commentary; Morrison manages to insert his opinions regarding most of the content without being obnoxious about it (a neat trick, that). The main thing is that his book is just plain entertaining, as books about comics ought be be and so often aren't. It's quite good fun to know why he thinks Watchmen was important even though he doesn't really like it, and an entirely different kind of fun reading about his transformatively psychedelic out-of-body adventure in Kathmandu. I really like the way he's woven strands of his life story in and out of the narrative, so that the book is never really about him but also never really not about him; it's an unusual and a lovely method of autobiography. Highly recommended!

Film: 'RiP!: A remix manifesto' (2008)

There are a host of reasons why this might be the coolest thing I've seen all year. It's certainly one of the most relevant, given the neverending debates, arguments, and all-out warfare surrounding the issue of copyright infringement. Because I've only got 300 words here I can't just gush about how much I love this movie, so here are two of the aforementioned host of reasons:

1. The concept! This is an open source film. All of the footage is freely available on the Open Source Cinema site under a Creative Commons license; you are allowed - nay, encouraged - to download it, copy it, slap it together with new stuff and/or in new ways (in short, remix it) and make your own damn movie.

2. Cory Doctorow's in it. And if that's not enough cool in one place for you, there's also Lawrence Lessig, about whom I am in total agreement with filmmaker Brett Gaylor: this man is the coolest lawyer in the world. Still not enough? Okay, how about pirate cartoonist Dan O' Neill, legendary musician Gilberto Gil, and Bittersweet Symphony capoeira in the slums of Rio? Oh, and did I mention that a good deal of the film centres on kickass mashup artist Gregg Gillis, better known as the infamous Girl Talk?

Go watch this intelligent, informative, levelheaded, and terrifyingly to-the-point film. It's affordable and readily available (hell, the whole thing's on youtube - though if you like it and you've got some spare change, you can make a donation). Form your own opinion (or borrow a few from other people and make a philosophical mashup). I see this project's message as an invitation to help create the world we want to live in, and that is gloriously cool.

Film: 'The Hunger' (1983)

This one's been on my watch list for years, and, laid up with a nasty cold and lured by the promise of vampire David Bowie, lesbian Catherine Deneuve, and Bauhaus, I watched it. Poor, misguided me.

It starts off alright, with a vaguely creepy club scene involving a very brief appearance by the promised Bauhaus (inevitably performing Bela Lugosi's Dead, of course). From there it's all downhill...

First Bowie, who's not really a vampire (more of a bloodsucking groupie, really) shrivels up into an ancient zombie-thing, kills an annoying teenybopper, and then - flakes - away. Then Susan Sarandon (ecch) gets naked for no good reason at all (double ecch). Catherine Deneuve doesn't really get naked at all, which is quite disappointing. Everyone acts like a jerk and then dies, except for Catherine Deneuve, who shrivels up into a witchy old thing and gets locked in a box forever and ever, and Susan Sarandon, who takes over as head slutty vampire (ecch x eternity).

Film: 'Priest' (2011)

Q: Is it good?
A: No.
Q: Is it predictable, derivative, poorly scripted, and full of obviously fake special effects?
A: Yes.
Q: Do I love it?
A: ...Yes.

Okay, so the acting is wooden, the dialogue is bland, the story is...thin, to say the least, and the critics hated it. But it's fun! The unconvincing but spooky theocratic post-apocalypse setting is a thoroughly enjoyable piece of chilling escapist fantasy. The monochromatic desertified wastelands are quite beautiful despite being so obviously computer-generated, and the solar-powered bikes the characters race across the sands on at ridiculously high speeds are really quite cool. Oh, yeah, and it always makes me happy when movie vampires are grotesquely portrayed as slimy, insectoid, eyeless, cave-dwelling monsters rather than sparkly undead noblemen. These vamps are definitely not sexy, unless you have a massive thing for drippy grey slime. I suppose they'll never make a sequel to this film, but I really hope I'm wrong!

Record: Japan 'Obscure Alternatives' (1978)

This record is such an odd experience. Being a massive fan of their later works, the Japan sound I know is smoothly elegant; classy, cool, and substantially coloured by exotic tints of civilizations far from England in the golden age of synthpop. It's completely disorienting to put on a Japan record and hear loud, fast, raw, raunchy glam rock. None of the esoteric beauty of Gentlemen Take Polaroids is to be found here, and Sylvian, not yet having developed his trademark velvety baritone croon, is almost unrecognizable in these gritty, yowling vocals. Only in Karn's slippery, tonally unstable bass playing and Jansen's frenetically odd drumming can I hear strong hints of the sounds I know they'll be making by the next record, 1979's stupendous Quiet Life. Most of the record is more reminiscent of some strange cross between The New York Dolls and tidbits of jazz and funk. It's also strange to hear so much prominent guitar; after this record most guitar sounds would become completely lost in the tonal sea of Richard Barbieri's wall-o'-synth - which is nearly inaudible this time around. The only track which resembles what I think of as 'the Japan sound' is The Tenant, a piano-based instrumental which ends the record on a note that carries over into every record they released afterwards. 

It's a damned good record once I manage to shut myself off from the visceral "that CAN'T be Japan" reaction. Their musical proficiency makes for a nice change from the simplistic three-chord structure of most glam rock, and it's quite entertaining hunting for precursors to their rather sudden switch to a sleek, shimmering art-pop sound.

Film: 'Encounters at the End of the World' (2007)

I've had a lifelong fixation with Antarctica. As a child I feasted on Endurance and The Last Place On Earth, dreaming of epic, parka-clad adventures on otherworldly terrain. After suffering through too many cutesy, uninformative movies about penguins, at last I've found a film that focuses on the white continent of my childhood dreams. Written, directed, and charmingly narrated by the wonderful Werner Herzog, here is an entrancing picture of the brave, hardy, and eccentric people who live and work at the bottom of the world. Herzog encounters a broad spectrum of human life-forms, including a banker-turned-bus driver, a plumber descended from Aztec royalty, and a cell biologist who plays electric guitar on the roof of a Quonset hut. Traveling from the continent's largest community, McMurdo Station, to the top of volcano Mount Erebus, the film explores several small research and diving encampments and even, briefly, an open-mic night at a bar. This is not an animal movie, though there are some delightfully fat seals and even a few deranged penguins. It's a fascinating look at the sort of person who winds up at the fabled last place on earth; the travelers, philosophers, researchers, and dreamers of strange dreams who find something in this environment that they can't get anywhere else.

I loved the whole film immensely, but the bits I liked best were the extraordinarily beautiful underwater sequences. Henry Kaiser's lovely footage sucks you into a world it's likely you'd never be able to see for yourself; strange, spooky creatures abound beneath the ice, flowing along in frigid waters beneath a sealed sky. This is definitely a new favourite film, and one I look forward to seeing again every time I can make a friend sit still and watch it with me.

Book: Lois Pryce 'Lois on the Loose' (2007)

This is what I call a three-hour book; an adventure story both ripping and gripping, and a thoroughly enjoyable one at that. I gobbled it down in an afternoon, with lavish amounts of enjoyment despite only having been able to find an irritating large-print edition. This is absolutely my favourite motorcycle book to date (and I've read quite a few), owing largely to the delightful nature and circumstances of the author. Lois is lovely! Her wicked sense of humour and lust for the road, combined with her endearing love for the very sort of small motorcycles that I myself adore and her rather excellent style of writing, make her the best sort of person to write a book about a madcap motorbike trip from Alaska to Argentina. It's lovely the way she doesn't take herself too seriously and isn't afraid to tell a few stupid stories on herself; that sort of disarming openness makes me think very well indeed of her. It's also rather nice to read a motorcycle travel book by someone who wasn't running away from anything more than a slightly boring life.

I can't help comparing all the moto books I've read with one another, and though I enjoyed The Perfect Vehicle, am very glad I read Ghost Rider, and have a proper appreciation for Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, there's a lot to be said for sometimes just reading a good story by a good-natured person who isn't particularly sad, doesn't feel sorry for herself (except when she's got food poisoning, and really, I think feeling sorry for oneself is de rigeur at such times), and doesn't let philosophy get in the way of letting herself have a rip-roaring good time. Highly recommended for anyone who likes reading adventures, whether or not you care about motorbikes!