recent releases: My Morning Jacket, Franz Ferdinand, Ryan Adams

A few recent releases from October have caught my attention recently. Full reviews forthcoming.

My Morning Jacket
Z



file under: the Band + the Pixies + Neil Young x Radiohead

Franz Ferdinand
You Could Have It So Much Better



file under: [the Kinks x 10 (+ lyrical Beatles)] / David Bowie

Ryan Adams and the Cardinals
Jacksonville City Nights



file under: Johnny Cash + [(Emmylou Harris/ Loretta Lynn)] x (.5 Grateful Dead)

Buckethead 10/27 @ The Recher Theatre in Towson, MD

I had the chance to see the notorious Buckethead at the Recher on October 27. Known in all guitar circles as a virtuoso, and working with the ill-fated Guns 'n Roses reincarnation within the past few years, Buckethead has gotten quite a reputation as an enigmatic and odd player with undeniable talent (on his official bio he claims to have been raised by chickens).

Recently, my buddy Adspar mentioned on his blog that, in his opinion, Stevie Ray Vaughn is the greatest guitar player ever. I can't prove one way or the other, but I would have to admit Buckethead for consideration. Even though I haven't seen any pure world-class guitar players, such as Steve Vai or Joe Satriani, Buckethead easily blows away everyone I've seen, and I would have a hard time believing even Stevie Ray could play some of the stuff Buckethead can play. My friends and I stood drooling in awe for the entire show while he played. He's just a disgustingly amazing player.

Adding to the mysterious aura of Buckethead is the unconfirmed rumor that he's actually in his 40 or 50's. I tend to think this is quite probable, as it would explain both his constant appearance in costume, and, more importantly, just how insanely talented he is.

a Buckethead FAQ

Buckethead played with a simple stage setup: he had a drummer and a bassist, and that was pretty much it. The three of them played for more than an hour, then played another half-hour encore. Mixing some blues, acoustic guitar, and even a banjo into a set dominated by classic rock and some metal shredding, his versatility, speed, and precision were incredible to behold.

What makes Buckethead a freak of nature is due, in great part, to his sheer size. Standing at least 6'8, he towers around 7 feet with his ridiculous bucket costume piece. Being such a large dude, he also has monster-sized hands. Any guitarist will tell you that this can be an unfair advantage, and Buckethead uses his natural gifts to an embarrassing degree. He would play notes so quickly that it would be impossible for the untrained ear to catch up, which is what happened to me often. Seeing him hammer notes in quick succession, across 5 frets with the greatest of ease, made everyone watching incredibly jealous and star-struck. Everytime he crushed the guitar with a devastating solo, you could hear people turn to their buddies and say "That's fucking incredible... he's so sick" over and over again. And he was.

Buckethead's Official Site

bad spelling is infuriating

Especially in a published work that costs a consumer hard-earned cash. In this case, the consumer was me, and I'm not happy.

I was at Barnes and Noble yesterday and picked out a history book on the Secret Service, since I'm a history nerd. Titled The Secret Service: The Hidden History of an Enigmatic Agency, I figured this book was worth the bargain bin price of $7.98. I was sorely mistaken. After getting home, I figured I would read the first 10 pages to get a feel for it. Like a bat out of hell, on page 5, the following exercise in editing futility takes place:

"Scottish immigrant Allan Pinkerton, a tough, savvy investigator who had founded the first financially successful private detective agency in the United Stated [sic] . . . was working on a criminal case in Baltimore in 1861 when he claimed to have 'inadvertently' discovered a plot to assassinate President-elect Abraham Lincoln." (pp. 4-5)

Are you fucking kidding me? Both the author and the editor didn't see that glaring typo? It's clear that these scholarly intellectuals decided a brisk run through SpellCheck would dominate any and all errors in the book, even words that are technically spelled correctly but clandestinely survive in the form of a blatant typo. What in the devil is the United Stated? I've never heard of this apparently new nation-verb.

What makes this worse is that it ruins an otherwise interesting geek-fact I would have enjoyed (the discovery of the assassination plot happened in Baltimore, and the Pinkerton fellow mentioned is associated with the well-known security company that Weezer references by way of the title to their second album: Pinkerton).

I did some further research on the book, and as it turns out, the rest of it is so chock full of mistakes and typos that some readers, instead of throwing it away, continued reading just to see how many errors they could ultimately find. Wonderful.

Luckily I kept the receipt to this sucker and I'll be making an exchange in the near future.

sweeping changes start in the O's front office, MySpace page

Here is a good article on the rather drastic changes which have occured after Mike Flanagan was given more outward authority in the Baltimore Orioles front office. This could be the start, hopefully, of a successful offseason in the free agent market.

Also, here is my MySpace page. I'm probably not going to add anything to it, but it allows me additional room for a more extensive list of favorite bands, movies, TV shows, books, etc.

I currently have 0 friends.

On the set of The Wire

I spent several hours yesterday on the set of The Wire, and it was a very cool experience. While I could see how it could get boring as an assistant or some other similar position, doing work as an extra was worthwhile, and I want to do it again.
Getting There

The day started off early, as my brother and I got to the location at 6:30 am. There were huge trailers set up all along the side of the street, and I got out of the car and wandered around for a bit, hoping to find someone who could tell me where I should go. There were a couple of huge, white vans, and it turned out the second one I tried asking was the van for the extras. I got in with three other girls, and we were whisked away to a church, where the extras were meeting before heading over to the on-location shoot.

As I walked into the foyer of the church, it became painfully obvious that I was firmly in the minority, ethnically speaking. I was one of exactly two white people (but to be fair, I am technically Hispanic-Caucasian), as the rest of the 20-25 extras and crew members were of the African-American persuasion. The only other Caucasian was a very short, older woman in her late fifties or early sixties, with slightly curly blonde hair. She was having some makeup applied by the makeup girl, and I noticed that she had the look of a white trailer trash junkie. It was appropriately fitting, then, that she would go on to play what appeared to be junkie buying drugs from some street kids throughout the entire day's shoot. She later told me that it was just her second day overall of filming; I'm not sure if both days would account for scenes for the same episode (The Wire is well-known for featuring a veritable cornucopia of characters, broken down into groups such as "The Law," "The Street," "The Hall", "The Port," etc. on the official website) .

I checked in with the lady in charge of the extras, and she checked my name off a list, saying "Ok good, you're here... you're going to be one of the drivers." As it turns out, the extras there were divided into pedestrians, drivers, and junkies, with about 6 pedestrians, 5 drivers, a handful of junkies and some miscellaneous characters (why does that sound like a bad urban nursery rhyme or limerick?).

All of the scenes I witnessed being filmed were, without a doubt, for plot developments involving "The Street." We spent the whole day filming at an intersection near Greenmount Street and Barclay Street in North Baltimore.

The Bogey Car

After getting my brother and our car, we drove to the location and waited for our cues. The first scene of the day was a rather simple one, as it was a set shot of a couple minor characters crossing the street. The most complicated thing about the entire shot was the camera set-up, as it was set on some rails and called for a rolling shot of the street, following the characters as they crossed. The drivers would then drive their cars intermittently, emulating a normal real-life scene (obviously). We were the second car on one side of the street, with two other drivers waiting for their cues on the other side.

The very first take was ruined in a funny manner; well, at least I got a huge kick out of it. As soon as the crew and director yelled "Rolling!," a normal civilian car came out of nowhere, apparently failing to see the neon orange cones which were placed up the street for the simple purpose of deterring normal civilian cars from coming out of nowhere to ruin a scene (this particular instance was all caught on film, much to the director's chagrin). It was a crappy old beige 1980-something car, and once the dude realized he had stumbled on the set, he awkwardly stopped in the middle of intersection. It was at this point that I heard someone say, "We got a bogey," and someone else answered, "Yep, bogey" over his headset. The director yelled "Cutting!" as soon as this happened, and the fantastically confused driver of the interrupting vehicle started getting his bearings straight and slowly drove off.

The assistant who was giving the drivers their cues then spoke into his headset mike and said, "Ok, we're going to have to re-start the scene because of that stupid bogey car." Partly because of the professional and almost bored tone of the assistant (I'm sure this has happened dozens of times to them), mainly because of the desperately confused look on the bogey car driver's face, and mostly due to how many times people kept mentioning "bogey" and "the bogey car," I of course found all of this uproariously funny. But that's just me.

The Jetta's Date with Destiny

As it turns out, there's a decent chance that the silver Delgado Jetta will end up in one scene, as we did three takes, with the last one seeming to come out well (as it turned out, three takes was on the low end of resets and takes for one scene). The shot in question was done two scenes after The Bogey Car Scene (aka the most generic city scene ever). The scene itself featured what looked to be a new quasi-main character, a tall, lanky black man with dreadlocks (at first I thought it might be Omar, but I'm pretty sure the man in question is a different actor/character). Tall Lanky Dude was featured with his back to a black SVU, talking in a somewhat impassionate manner to one of the street thugs. There were a total of 2 drivers for the scene, and we were the first to go. One of the assistants would cue us to drive a few seconds after the scene would start shooting, and after the third take, the director seemed to be happy with it and the crew moved on to the next scene.

I overheard mention that the day's scenes were for Episode 3 of the upcoming new season, so I guess we'll see if the Jetta makes it onto high-end cable television (it's also possible you might be able to see me in the shot, depending on which camera angles they use).

"Let's do it again!"

I was also very interested by the whole process of shooting a TV series, even the more boring aspects like watching the crew position the cameras and the directors working with the actors. All of the details were terribly interesting to me, even though most people wouldn't be interested in the slightest bit (just like I would be absolutely fascinated if I ever had the chance to watch one of my favorite bands produce a record - I would be as happy as an overweight kid in a candy factory just watching the band fuck up a song and have to do another take in total frustration).

It's also noteworthy that the top 5 phrases shouted by the crew are:

1. "Rolling!'
2. "Action!"
3. "Cutting!"/"Cut it!"
4. "Let's do it again!"
5. "Re-start!"

As anyone can tell, shooting scenes for TV series and films can feature a great deal of takes until the scene is right (one of the scenes was done at least 8 times before the directors were satisfied).

I'm more than happy I took part in the shooting, no matter how insignificant my part was. I look forward to doing it again, whether for The Wire or maybe another show or movie, in the near future.

More blogs about The Wire.

Good Night, and Good Luck

(5 stars out of 5) ESSENTIAL

The George Clooney-directed Good Night, and Good Luck accomplishes what many films based on political material fail to do - it presents an intelligent and provoking story without politicizing itself and subsequently polarizing its audience. And the result is the best film of 2005 to date.

A period piece, and a semi-biographic drama, Good Night takes place in the early 1950's, in the midst of the anti-Communist campaign led by Republican Senator Joseph McCarthy. The straightforward, warm, and yet brilliant cast comprises most of the CBS news production team covering the trials and events, led by news anchor Edward Murrow (David Strathairn) and his producer Fred Friendly (George Clooney).

Utilizing black and white film, 50's nostalgia, a jazz soundtrack, and a meticulously detailed newsroom set, Clooney takes us back to the time of the trials and inquiries. Frequently using archival footage not only to provide the audience with context, but also to illustrate the group of journalists reacting to McCarthy as the events take place and the stakes rise, we witness Good Night unfold as the newsmen and women begin their idealistic attempts to present the facts and question the possible violation of constitutional rights.

Without a doubt, the standout performance of the film belongs to David Strathairn in his turn as CBS anchor Edward Murrow. Delivering lines as a top-notch, consummately professional journalist, Straithairn conveys his landmark editorial statements with conviction and confidence. Even though he delicately transmits a slight trepidation when the studio lights dim and and broadcast feeds end - accurately mirroring the nervous anticipation of the crew members who are fully aware of the possible public repercussions in their questioning of McCarthy - Straithairn still gallantly shuns the pressue coming from his media bosses and government figures in an effort to galvanize his friends and co-workers to finish the job.

We watch Murrow become a leader and a reluctant hero figure, as he quietly makes an ethical stand on behalf of his entire production team. Murrow and Friendly's risks lead to the initial voicing of dissent in the American public, allowing the rest of the country to question McCarthy's unforgiving, presumptuous, and brash tactics for the first time, if not condemn it. Strathairn's performance is superb, and he is assured an Oscar nomination for Best Actor.

Clooney's character serves more of a supporting role, essentially setting up Murrow as a friend and colleague throughout the film's entirety. Perhaps more important was Clooney's role in getting the film made at all, as he was instrumental in bringing part-time entertainment financier and full-time billionaire Mark Cuban into the fold. Cuban serves as an executive producer, and bankrolled some of the project.

Normally, politically charged films fail miserably to intelligently question the issues they hope to address. Good Night, and Good Luck is a rare exception, as it delivers a thoughtful and outright patriotic message resulting from a turbulent time in our nation's political history. As liberal as Clooney's political views and statements may be, he is still a smart filmmaker, realizing that a story well-told is better than an attack well-planned.

Michael Moore, are you watching?

Casting for HBO series The Wire calls FJDelgado, intense negotiations begin

I sent an e-mail recently to the people doing casting for The Wire, which is a highly-acclaimed police drama shot on-location in Baltimore on HBO. I got a voicemail from a lady named Sareva asking me to call back. Seeing as I've always wanted to be an extra on a good TV show, I did just that.

Before making the call, I told myself that I have to mean business if I want to ensure my place in the Pantheon of Hollywood Greatness (this will happen precisely when hell freezes over and the Philadelphia Eagles win a Super Bowl).

The Wire's HBO Site

I dialed the number provided in the message, and was told the location in Baltimore where they will be shooting. I was very polite and cordial, making sure to say "yes" and "I understand" to all the questions. I think I was able to emphatically, yet gently convey that I won't be pushed around.

It turns out that the casting company involved in getting idiots like me as extras did casting for Syriana (upcoming Soderbergh, Clooney produced CIA film starring George Clooney, Matt Damon, Chris Cooper and hottie Amanda Peet), Invasion (new Nicole Kidman flick set in Baltimore which is currently filming), the hilarious Wedding Crashers, and The Wire.

My call time (whatever that means, if I even remember correctly) is 6:30 am. It's a brutal time for me, but I'll have to make a sacrifice for a trivial event which could be a lot of fun. (Latinos are creatures of the night, we are not known for our go-get-em attitude as the sun rises, much preferring siestas, multiple lunch breaks, and frequent holidays - this is nothing new, as our night-time exploits have been a tradition carried over the Atlantic Ocean from the Mother Country centuries ago).

I gave my vital info, and was informed not to wear red, white, yellow, or orange, or neon colors (well what the hell am I supposed to wear?! Excuse me while I go visit the Gothic Dress Boutique). They also took great interest in my car, explicitly saying they want any color but white (wonderful, two of my family's cars are stark white).

I'll be borrowing my brother's silver Jetta, fully expecting the car to be showcased in my stead. Even if I don't get a second of screentime as a pedestrian tying his shoes before a liquor store holdup, then maybe the Delgado Jetta will live on in cable TV History.

I'll share the experience, however underwhelming, after I get back.

Best Orioles news in two years: Mazzone to the O's

Leo Mazzone has accepted a contract, in principle, to become the next pitching coach of the Baltimore Orioles.

ESSENTIAL READING: an outstanding essay written by former Baltimore Colt Bill Curry (Johnny Unitas' center) about what a talent Mazzone is, and how Baltimore is a great sports town.

Atlanta has asked for a prospect in return, but this is a non-issue, as the Orioles can wait until Nov. 15 (when Mazzone's contract expires) to formally sign him. Confirming rumors and inside information that he would come to Baltimore to help his best friend, manager Sam Perlozzo, this move is the best signing since the acquisition of Miguel Tejada in free agency in December 2003.

The New York Yankees desperately wanted Mazzone as their pitching coach, and were in negotiations with him as well. Apparently, they were never a serious contender.

Under Mazzone, the Atlanta Braves have had the number one or number two league ERA, excepting two seasons, in every year since 1992. They finished first in league ERA last year. The Mike Flanagan-led front office has gotten off to a blazing start, as free agent pitchers have expressed a desire to work with Mazzone, leading to the possible signings of A.J. Burnett or Kevin Millwood.

In other words, the Orioles will have the best pitching coach in all of baseball.

Look for young, talented pitchers like Daniel Cabrera and Erik Bedard to really improve next season.

Hopefully this is the start of the most drastically successful winter since before the 1996 season.

Official Orioles Mazzone news release

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah 10/19 @ The 8x10 Club in Baltimore, MD

I just got back from the Clap Your Hands Say Yeah concert at the 8 x 10 Club in the Federal Hill area of Baltimore. It was a fucking fantastic show.

I met up with my friend Dan K in Federal Hill, and we took down a few beers at a bar next door to the Funk Box before going inside. The 8 x 10 is actually quite small for a venue, despite having a railing/upstairs floor above the stage. I would guess that it only holds about 200 people, and it was filled to capacity.

We checked out the set from upstairs, and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah delivered a fine performance. We had only heard a few of their songs on the internet in the form of MP3's, all of which were played. Those songs included "Over and Over Again," "Upon This Tidal Wave of Young Blood," and "In This Home on Ice." Also highlighting the show were "The Skin of My Yellow Country Teeth" and the evening's best song, the unreleased "Satan Said Dance."

For those unfamiliar with Clap Your Hands' sound, they're a guitar and keyboard driven band with 5 members. A lot of their songs sound like a great mix of the Velvet Underground, some early R.E.M., hints of New Order, and the Talking Heads. Their lead singer, Alec Ounsworth, really sounds like a young David Byrne, as he works in some Byrne-esque vocal inflections to sing sometimes mumbled and scattered lyrics.

The band consists of Ounsworth, Lee Sargent, Robbie Guertin, Tyler Sargent, and Sean Greenhalgh, with their live setup of drums, bass, guitar, and two keyboards. Some songs would feature both keyboards playing at the same time, but most of the songs would find the same two members taking turns playing an additional guitar while the other played the keys (Ounsworth plays guitar and sings on all songs).

The band glided through their main set, playing about 8 songs and delighting the enthusiastic audience. After thundering applause, CYHSY came back out for two more encores, with a solid 2-song first encore. The second curtain call was somewhat unexpected, and I was surprised to distinctly recognize the first few chords. Then came the familiar lyrics, "there is a town in north Ontario / with dream comfort memory to spare," and Dan and I realized that they were busting out a cover of Neil Young's "Helpless," a great tune featured on the Band's Last Waltz. It was a great way to end the night, watching one of the hottest independent bands in the country close out in style.

The Smokin' Italian Hottie, Erin Andrews and the ESPN Hotties

I really have to mention the fairly gorgeous Giada de Laurentiis from the Food Network. Hands down the best hottie chef in the history of television, the fact she's Italian and makes good food is even better. She sort of looks like a prettier, more-endowed, and more voluptuous Natalie Portman. However, she's 35, so makeup and botox could be playing cruel jokes on my eyes. The best thing about her show, though, is the production and music. I feel like I'm taking crazy pills, but I swear that the film and music they use is exactly like the film and soundtracks only seen/ heard in high-end pornos. Needless to say, it makes for slightly uncomfortable, wonderfully bizarre viewing.

AND ON THE SIDELINES...

Also, there have been a few notable ESPN reporter hotties catching my eye recently (mostly because the network usually doesn't have any), filling the void left behind by the beautiful Melissa Stark. The top 3 prospects would have to be Erin Andrews (bonus points: went to Florida - regardless of your football allegiances, the girls at UF are bangin - and was on the dance team there), Rachel Nichols (it has been pointed out that she never blinks during her segments), and giving a fellow Latina the benefit of the doubt, Colleen Dominguez.

By the way, side note on Erin Andrews: During a recent broadcast of the Atlanta Braves/ Houston Astros Divisional Series, Andrews was doing a sideline report. This was the game that broke the record for longest playoff game in history, going 18 innings. She mentioned that Braves 3rd baseman Chipper Jones gave her a look (read: flirtatous) and made fun of her because she missed her flight to Atlanta on account of the absurd extra innings. ESPN then cut to Jones, who is notorious for nailing what must be hundreds of women and siring a highly numerous amount of illegitimate offspring.

Chances he's already banged Erin Andrews: 85%.

The Rock Band Name Game

Below is a small sampling of confounding and phonetically-ambigious rock band names, in addition to more "creative" monnikers. Chances are you have heard them recently, or will hear them in the future.

CONFUSING BAND NAMES

the Shins (all over the Garden State soundtrack)
the Thrills
the Stills
the Kills
the Killers (they have roughly 12 singles from their only record playing on radio and MTV everywhere)
the Distillers
the Willows
Gorillaz (those of "Feel Good, Inc." and "Clint Eastwood" fame, brainchild of Blur's Damon Albarn)

the Rakes
Brakes (a recent much-hyped side project)
the Strokes (they fucking rock or they fucking suck depending on your point of view)

All of these bands have a few things in common, as every single one was either started up within the past 5 years or experienced their first taste of success in that time. All of them are also grouped in the "indie rock" category, whatever that means.

And let's not forget the two most confusing and ambigious band names of all time:

The Band
Live

UNFORTUNATE BAND NAMES
(otherwise known as FLAGRANTLY PROFANE BAND NAMES)

the Fucking Champs
- This is an awesome name. However, it's unfortunate that, even if these guys were fucking champs, and even if they were the second coming of the Beatles, they still wouldn't have a snowball's chance in hell of experiencing large-scale success. (By the way, Snowball in Hell would be a pretty cool band name)

Anal Cunt
- When posed with the question of good bands no one has heard yet, Ryan Adams recently mentioned this band in a magazine interview, and he said that they are quite good. We can't be sure if he was joking, but then again, no one really said that rockers were particularly savvy.

Here are some classic excerpts from the Wikipedia entry for the band:

"Anal Cunt is a Grindcore band from the United States. Their song titles consist almost entirely (barring the Picnic of Love album, as well as covers of The A-Team and "Hungry Hungry Hippos" themes) of generally offensive material.

The band has often been criticized for its popularity being based solely on their controversial song titles and lyrics rather than any musical ability, and is often quoted when a debate is being made against the grindcore genre of music. One ongoing dispute is how much Anal Cunt actually believes in what they say on their albums.

Some examples of their less controversial song titles are "Hitler Was A Sensitive Man", "I Hope You Get Deported", and "Connor Clapton Committed Suicide Because His Father Sucks" (the original title for "Your Kid Committed Suicide Because You Suck"). One recurring song title is "X is gay", with X being variable. Some well-known examples are: "Technology is Gay", "The Internet is Gay", "Windchimes are Gay", and "The Word 'Homophobic' is Gay".

The sound of a typical Anal Cunt song is loud distorted guitars usually using only open strings, drums struck endlessly accompanied by loud (often unintelligible) screaming."

Wow.

Shirley Temple's Pussy
- This was one of the original names used by the band which came to be known as the Stone Temple Pilots. Luckily for them, STP weren't as dumb as the dudes in Anal Cunt, and a change to a name which was memorable, but still confusing, resulted in platinum records, millions of dollars and extravagant drug abuse.

Mookie Blaylock
- The original name for Pearl Jam (who people loved to compare Stone Temple Pilots with). Instead of sticking with the name inspired by the basketball player Mookie Blaylock, Destiny of the 90's again blessed a band with a name change, leading to even more platinum records, 17 drummer changes, and boring, unnecessary political commentary.

BADASS BAND NAMES

And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead
- This is a cool name because of the image it creates in one's head, which can range from morbid to comical depending on your mood. This name wanders into both Unfortunate and Confusing categories, if you subscribe to the theory that a band's name should be pronounced in no more than 2 seconds.

the Aquabats
- This is another really cool name, mostly because it's goofy as hell. These guys also dress up in matching comic book-themed uniforms, playing some sort of ska/ punk brand music. Their music pretty much sucks, but the name doesn't.

Collier passes away, other ACC basketball news

I was pretty bummed to see that Jason Collier, formerly of Georgia Tech, passed away. I saw him play a couple of times while I was at Duke back in the day. The really sad part is leaving a 1-year-old daughter behind - at least she's hopefully too young to remember it when she's older.

In happier news, according to USA Today, Mike Krzyzewski will be the next Olympic basketball coach. This is a good thing for the U.S. Team given their recent struggles. Whatever you think of Coach K, he has a keen eye for talent. No matter what, he'll select a team that will listen to him and work well together, so you can expect some unconventional players (both NBA and maybe college) who are better suited for the international game.

In bad news for my Blue Devils, the North Carolina Tar Heels picked up Brandon Wright, a stud recruit. A lot of recruits can be overhyped, and evaluating high school talent is tricky, but this was one kid I was really hoping Duke would pick up. He sounds like an Elton Brand-type, probably less talented but more ferocious (which says a great deal).

Weezer/Foo Fighters 10/10 @ Patriot Center in Fairfax, VA

Thanks to Daniel Zabransky for all the pictures here, he was a cool cat at the show taking pictures with his digital camera, and he agreed to let me use a few.

The following is an account of the October 10th Weezer/Foo Fighters show at the Patriot Center in Fairfax, VA.

The night started off on a bad note, as I couldn't find my lucky O's hat (the one from the 80's with the cartoon bird) before heading off to the show. I wound up having to wear a less proven Orioles hat (the one with the classic bird, the original which the team currently uses for home games). After a pleasant and non-eventful drive to the Patriot Center, my buddies went into the arena, as they waited for me to find a ticket (I go to alot of shows without tickets since it's not too hard to buy one off a fan with an extra). I ended up buying one from a scalper for just $30, which I was happy with since the ticket's face value was $45. I glanced at it briefly, noticed that it was for a seat in section 117, then headed to one of the entrances.

photo courtesy Dan Zabransky

I got to the West entrance, where I was greeted by Some Dude and Some Chick. After realizing they were there for respective gender-specific friskings, I lifted my arms and waited for the mandatory pat-down to begin. As most people can attest to, friskings at airports can be especially awkward and metaphysically uncomfortable. Concert friskings are almost as bad. Thankfully, Some Dude was as uncomfortable with doing it as I was with being the friskee, so the process was brief. After making it past this first wave of concert personnel, I got to Ticket Girl. Ticket Girl was nice, and she scanned my ticket with some sort of bar-code scanning instrument. I asked her where my seat was, and as she responded, I zoned out. I saw her drop my ticket into a some kind of bin. I came to just in time to catch the end of what Ticket Girl was saying. I immediately began to wish I had been paying attention to what she had been talking about, but I was in a line, and I had to march on.

I finally got to the door, where two chicks were standing with shiny green wristbands. Seeing as I love shiny green, and recovering from the nervous vibes of the frisking, I stuck out my arm. One of the girls smiled after a second, and, in what became a theme to the first part of the night, clumsily put the contraption on my left wrist.

After meeting up with my pal Matty Bro, we proceeded to try and find our section. His ticket was for section 103, but we figured we could sit near each other anyway amongst what we expected to be a laissez-faire attitude towards seating enforcement. It is at this point that I became even more confused than I normally am: I had a wristband, and Matty Bro had a ticket. Something was amiss.

Realizing this ticket discrepancy, Bro came to conclusion (much sooner than I did) that I just happened to luck out like a bastard and get a general admission ticket to the floor, which is where we were hoping to wind up for the show (the Patriot Center had a seatless main floor in front of the stage for the show, with seats surrounding the floor as you would expect at a basketball venue). What we figured out was that I, in my typical cluelessness, had confused the girl into putting a bracelet on my wrist when in fact I should have continued on without one. That, or Ticket Girl thought I was cute and hooked me up with a floor wristband. Or she saw me for the idiot that I am and assumed I would rather have a floor seat because I had the look of a lame rock concert-goer. Either way, serendipity and a positive attitude combined forces to my benefit, and I was able to get on the floor.

The Kaiser Chiefs came on first. They were OK, average and typical as an opening act (although their last song, "I Predict a Riot," was particularly money). The highlight of their set was when their lead singer bombastically announced "We are Kaiser Chiefs!!! We're from the UK!!!," after which their guitarist slyly added "You must be the USA!!!" No blatant Spinal Tap reference must be ignored, so I gave them respect for that alone (I try to live my life in the spirit of Gunther: Champagne, glamour, sex, and RESPECT - I fail miserably on all accounts, but I will freely continue to give out tons of the last principle).

photo courtesy Dan Zabransky

Weezer followed, and their show was damn good. They played a nifty mix of their old and newer stuff, and, given the nature of the dual billing, avoided playing too much off their most recent album in favor of early-era tunes. Rivers Cuomo, according to those who had seen the band previously, was apparently much less nervous than usual, and one could tell that the band was having fun. The set starting off well, but noticeably picked up steam as the night progressed. It was really a treat to hear "El Scorcho," "Why Bother?," and "Surf Wax America," essentially traveling back in time to high school.

The setlist:

My Name is Jonas
Peace
Don't Let Go
Dope Nose
This is Such a Pity
Big Me (Foo Fighters cover)
Perfect Situation
Why Bother?
El Scorcho
Say It Ain't So
We Are All on Drugs
Surf Wax America
Beverly Hills
Hash Pipe
Photograph----> Song 2 (Blur Cover)*

encore
Island in the Sun
Undone (The Sweater Song)
Buddy Holly
* Rivers Cuomo on drums, Patrick Wilson on guitar

The best part of the night, for me, came at the end of Weezer's main set. After finishing up "Hash Pipe," Rivers Cuomo and Patrick Wilson switched instruments; Rivers played the drums and Pat played lead guitar and sang "Photograph," which then turned into a sweet cover of Blur's "Song 2." After banging the drums for a bit, Rivers threw his drumsticks into the crowd. I saw that one of them was headed in my general direction, and it landed half a foot in front of me. A quick melee ensued for a millisecond, and I somehow wound up with the stick. Apparently years of going to baseball games and trying to pounce on ricocheting foul balls paid off. Immediately after grabbing it, people gave me a couple high fives, and there was also some gnashing of teeth and consternation from the kids who had a chance to grab the souvenir. One dude tapped me on the shoulder and called me "the luckiest motherfucker ever." Needless to say, he was greatly exaggerating, but it was a cool memento.

Rivers Cuomo on drums/photo courtesy Dan Zabransky

But then something odd happened.

In the straight-up freakiest moment of the night, two young teenage girls (get-10-years-in-prison young) asked me if they could "hold it." So many jokes and puns started running around inside my head, but then I was struck with the bizarre oddity of the situation. The thing was that both the girls actually meant it. I let them hold the stick, with the second girl holding on to it for a good 10 second count. I held onto it while she did, because I honestly didn't know if she was going to go psycho and just snatch it, but ultimately she let go with a satisfied and glazed look in her eye. I can't imagine what she'd look like after she first starts having sex. It was fucking weird. I feel creepy just writing about it, and I was happy to get the hell away from those girls.

After getting over being thoroughly creeped out, I made my way back to the seats, where Matty Bro again called me a lucky bastard as soon as he saw that I had one of the drumsticks in my hand. Everyone agreed that Weezer had put on a great show, and we looked forward to the Foo Fighters set.

more to come...

New Adventures in Crime

Courtesy of the Towson Times crime log section, these entries are verbatim as they appeared in the October 12, 2005 edition. The sad thing is that all of these crimes happened within 5 miles of my house, which is near many neighborhoods which are considered to be among the nicest in Baltimore County.

Many of these are funny in a sinister way, and others are just downright scary. My comments are in italics. Enjoy!

Cockeysville
Cranbrook Road, 500 block, Provident Bank, 2:55 p.m. Oct. 7. A man entered the bank and announced his intention of robbing it. He punched and (sic) employee in the face, demanded keys to the safe, then forced the employee to open the safe. The robber then fled with cash.
- This man apparently meant business. I can jog from my house to this branch in 10 minutes, and I made a deposit there recently.

Timonium
Aylesbury Road, first block, 10:30 a.m. Oct. 5. Two women got into an argument as they were leaving a methadone clinic and one stabbed the other in the arm with a steak knife.
- Methodone clinics are for heroine addicts attempting to detox. Jesus... stay classy, psychotic bitches!

Towson
York Road, 200 block, KFC, 8:55 p.m. Oct. 9. Two men entered the fast food restaurant just before closing. One of the robbers forced employees into the office at gunpoint while the other tried to force the manager to open the safe. When the robbers realized the safe could not be opened, they took cash from the register drawer and the manager's pockets and fled in a black sedan.
- Many a sociology class would be halted by the fury of debate over the ethnicity of the perpetrators in question. At least these imbeciles, in an attempt to salvage their trip, made the last-second executive decision to go the old-fashioned way and rob the register.

And the "Dumbasses of the Week" Award goes to...

Stevenson Lane, 1100 block, 8:55 p.m. Oct. 5. Two juveniles were arrested after police investigated a single-car crash and determined the car was stolen. The two suspects were apprehended as they were walking away from the accident.
- Fucking moron juvenile delinquents.

York Road, 400 block, Towson Commons, 12:20 a.m. Oct. 3. A verbal dispute that started during a movie spilled out into the street afterwards. Two men attacked two other men and slashed them in the legs and arms with knives then fled on foot.
- How fitting that I saw A History of Violence at this very theater just last week.

Weezer/Foo Fighters turn it up to 11 at the Patriot Center, Rivers Cuomo throws stick at me

I just got back from the show, which was rockin.

I'll have a write-up (the highlight was winding up with a drumstick that Rivers - who played drums on Photograph---> Song 2 [Blur Cover] - threw into the crowd at the end of Weezer's main set) and pictures soon.

Major Weezer Releases

Weezer (Blue)











Pinkerton











Weezer (Green)











Maladroit











Make Believe

Weezer

Weezer

Tomorrow I'm planning on heading down to Fairfax, VA to catch the Foo Fighters/Weezer show. Foo Fighters are always a solid act, and they should be rocking hard in support of their latest record, the money In Your Honor. Weezer is on my short list of bands I really want to see but haven't, even though I've had chances (the Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan are #1 and #2 on this list - obviously God put me here a little too late to have a chance to see the Who, Led Zeppelin, the Beatles, the Clash, the Velvet Underground, Hendrix, etc. in their purest forms).

Weezer have always had harsh critics. Such detractors, however, are missing out on a good thing at best and are morons at worst. The band is responsible for two of the classic albums of the 90's: the self-titled Weezer () - aka The Blue Album - and Pinkerton (). Despite the fact their subsequent 3 LP's haven't come close to the first two, they are still very good records, and Weezer has always had a reputation as a fine live act. It's also funny to see them consistently release some of their most mediocre songs as singles and have those tracks become big hits ("Beverly Hills" and "Hash Pipe" being two examples). Much to the chagrin of their "hardcore" fans, the retarded mass-consuming public eats up those songs while the band quietly releases consistently good music.

Weezer wins.

Mandatory TV-viewing, baseball playoff picks

On Thursday, October 6th, U2 will be on Conan O'Brien. For the entire show.

Something like this has never been done on "Late Night with Conan O'Brien," and it certainly hasn't been done on any of the major talk shows in recent memory. Regardless, watching arguably the world's best band going on the funniest and best-written late-night talk show can't be missed ("The Daily Show" is excellent but it's not in the same format as the other late nights).

Perhaps we can expect to see Bono do a segment of "In the Year 2000", with the Edge singing the "in the year two-thousaaaaaand" part?

U2 to cut moon in half to serve purposes of stage

also...

The MLB playoffs are in full swing, and even though they're a day late, my picks are:

ALCS picks: New York Yankees vs. Chicago White Sox
pick: White Sox

NLCS picks: Houston Astros vs. St. Louis Cardinals
pick: Cardinals

World Series: Chicago White Sox vs. St. Louis Cardinals
pick: St. Louis Cardinals

I Want to Own an Aviary - by Count Langenhoffen

An Aviary (capitalized because I would own it, and everything I own instantly accords pronoun status) is a large enclosure filled with trees and such for the purpose of enclosing birds. You've seen aviaries in such blockbuster classics as Jurassic Park 3 (dazzlingly directed by Joe Johnston, between October Sky and Hidalgo) and The Haunting (which features a pre-celebrity Owen Wilson decapitated by a haunted fireplace[seriously]).

So, essentially, the birds think they can fly through the webbed steel forming the aviary, but it turns out that steel reacts to birds the same way it does to everything else; they hit it, fall, and usually die. BUT, as Darwin taught us, the next generation of birds will know how the system works, and shall obey it unflaggingly, and so they become the living attraction of said Aviary.

Now, my Aviary will be fucking enormous; not because the birds need room to fly, but because I'm a big guy. In fact, my Aviary will be devoid of those dirty ornithological rats. If birds find a way into my Aviary, it's probably entirely coincidental. As soon as you walk into my Aviary you'll be confronted by some kind of spike or boulder trap; notice I use "you," since I would never fall for my own traps. If you make it past the trap(s?), you'll notice the air is pungent with a tenebrous pall, due in large part to the still black pond to your right and the cobwebbed man-sized iron cages squeaking longingly towards the floor which are numerous and hanging from the roof.

Spiders are rampant, though not so many so as to draw your attention too much from an omniaural moan permeating the wispy white fog. There's some wilting shrubbery that's not been clipped for years, but its plainly obvious they were shorn to resemble souls writhing in the fires of Hell. Twisted trunks of half-dead trees litter the place haphazardly; there's a pretty cherry blossom, too (for contrast by juxtaposition). This is obviously just to create the mood for my Aviary, so that the next door neighbor's kids feel compelled to breach my Aviary.

Then, once inside, they'd be forced to serve me (not sexually) until their premature death or embark as a group on a dangerous quest for a pirate ship full of gold hidden in a secret cave within the sewers of the town. If none of the kid's are Asian, then they won't have the quest option, since no one can convincingly yell, "Booby traps!"

Now, being a business-minded person, considering the logistics of maintaining a model aviary requires some serious rumination.

First, manpower. Simple. Pay some poor Polish countrymen to immigrate over and upkeep my aviary (I wouldn't use "Aviary" in the newspaper ad so as not to stir suspicion). Their rudimentary belief in the spirits of the Old Country would surely remain alight as they torment in my hellish Aviary. And while they toil and cry out at spirits nonexistent, they'd come to me begging to allow their indenture to end. I, of course, would grow to twice my size and cackle ghoulishly at their simple beliefs and hilarious terror. I might allow them put a bird in my Aviary if they agree to stop being fed, but the odds that they learn conversationl English are slim to none.

Another important logistic is always making sure the troops are officious in their duties, so once in awhile I'd release a pack of hounds or swarm of locusts into the Aviary. I might also release one of those badass string-tripped swinging log traps that did in the Predator, and I think also may have taken care of Benicio's character in the cinematic feast that is The Hunted.

If the INS or similar got too hot on my Aviary, I'd just cover it with a tarp whenever they came by looking for missing Poles. If they ask what's under the tarp I'd probably just make the whole damn thing send itself into another dimension, and then return when everyone's not looking.

What's most important for an Aviary is, of course, having a secret room where you crossbreed various hapless animals via torture. There'd be strungup bunny rabbits, kittens, otters, dolphins, parrots (since they can talk), chicken (in the form of buffalo wings in the freezer), and then a couple of random beating cows' hearts connected to more electrodes than seems necessary for good measure. I'd also pay Edgar Allen Poe's great grandson to sit in a tall black chair and read aloud The Telltale Heart and The Raven at odd temporal intervals. When the creatures I manifest are ready to unleash doom upon the world, I'd make sure they go straight for the places of worship, just to fuck with everyone's psyche.

One last item, let's throw in some gargantuan pterodactyls with lasers attached to their shoulders like those Dinobots.

I feel that building from this simple Aviary template, I'll have countless hours of entertainment to tide me over until my battleship is complete.

A History of Violence excellent, looking forward to Capote

As the Oscar season and the prerequisite onslaught of Best Picture candidates fast approaches, I've found that 2005 could prove to be a particularly good one for the movie scene.

Last evening I saw A History of Violence, David Cronenberg's latest movie, starring Viggo Mortensen and Maria Bello. I came away quite impressed with the film. Not only was it well acted - Mortensen was convincing as a quiet family man with a troubled past - but the direction was superb. Cronenberg is to be lauded for creating an interesting pace which features intense barrages of violence breaking up a taught, albeit gradual, exposition. Playing Tom Stall, Mortensen is the highlight of the film. His quiet demeanor and acting skills juxtapose nicely with the grim and foreboding showdowns, as well as with ominous gangster Carl Fogerty, played with eerie confidence by Ed Harris. With the exception of an awkward sex scene in the second half, not one sequence nor exchange of dialogue is wasted. Every harsh development and the drastic consquences they have on the small, rural Indiana family are treated in a concise manner which contributes to the overall effect of the story. A History of Violence is a good start to the Oscar season, and necessary viewing for those who enjoy criminal dramas with mysterious characters.

(4 stars out of 5)


Fresh off the satisfaction from taking in Violence, I am looking forward to the next possible great movie of the season, Capote, starring Philip Seymour Hoffman. In what early buzz from festival screenings have as an Osacr-worthy and career-defining role for Hoffman, Capote is a period piece which delves into author Truman Capote's experiences in writing a non-fictional novel concerning the murders of well-known members of a Kansas family (with Catherine Keener playing his friend Harper Lee, the author of my favorite work of fiction, To Kill a Mockingbird). The official website can be found here; it does a very nice job of presenting the plot and approach to the material with nice graphics, media, and other accoutrements one might expect at a site backed by a huge movie studio. Hopefully the movie will live up to the word of mouth preceeding it.

Coming on the heels of The Constant Gardener and Violence, movies like Capote, if indeed Oscar-caliber, could signal a strong year culminating in the Awards season.

Brian Roberts update, B.J. Ryan likely gone, Jim Beattie incompetent

It's official. Brian Roberts will be having Tommy John surgery, which is bad news no matter how you look at it. After seriously tearing ligaments and dislocating his elbow against the Yankees on Sept. 20, Roberts saw his breakthrough season end and a nightmare season for the Orioles continued its hellish descent.

While there have been several success and comeback stories for players undergoing the procedure, most of them pitchers, it will be interesting to see not only how long it takes for Roberts to recover, but also how effective he will be upon his return. There's a good chance that Roberts will never be the same player that he was for a majority of the 2005 season, during which he established himself as baseball's best overall second baseman, offensively behind only Alfonso Soriano. Here's to a quick and complete recovery.

In other news, co-GM Jim Beattie today made known on 1300 AM WJFK that the Orioles need serious upgrades at several positions, blasted Eric Byrnes as a disappointment, and revealed that the team tried to re-sign B.J. Ryan last offseason, but failed. Talk about stating the obvious. Beattie, who is known to be as good as fired around all of baseball, should take all the blame he's been getting and more for the O's collapse this season, and I'll be glad to see him go, more because a change will give us a fighting chance for improvement. His favorite transaction seemed to always be the non-move, preferring to wait and ultimately do nothing.

The revelation that Ryan couldn't be signed last season reveals much. First, it says that the Orioles recognized Ryan was a talented commodity. Also, it unfortunately implies that: 1. Ryan will be looking for a big contract, which he deserves. 2. The Orioles will not be willing to offer a lucrative contract in order to retain him. This could be a disaster, because if the Orioles fail to re-sign Ryan, I guarantee that the Boston Red Sox will. They are in sore need of a closer, and they would much rather have Mike Timlin setting up games in the seventh and eighth innings. This would create the dreaded scenario of losing a dominant player to a divisional rival, and the team would potentially face a former teammate shutting the door on them several times next season.

Back to Beattie. I'll always remember him for saying "We don't want to make a move just for the sake of making a move." Well, maybe he should have tried that a little more, rather than failing the team when additions needed to be made at the trading deadline this past July. The overachieving and thin Orioles could have saved their season with more pitching and a decent outfielder, maybe not ultimately competing for the postseason, but if anything finishing above .500 for the first time since 1997. The bottom line is that Beattie's mentality and philosophy was ill-taylored for a front office where everything has to be approved by a egomaniacal (not to mention inept in the knowledge of baseball operations) owner in Peter Angelos. Maybe Beattie could never have succeeded in Baltimore, but the time for change is now, and the sooner the better.