Prisoners

Hugh Jackman is the movie’s biggest problem. He bulldozes through everything so totally that it creates no resonance for his character’s situation. “Your daughter has been kidnapped? Sure, act like a total asshole and even corrupt your neighbors.” I’m all for making Paul Dano suffer - Daniel Day-Lewis did it best - but torturing him is something else. Jackman simply goes into a downward spiral and it’s more like watching him circle the drain. No resonance to his furor at all. Maria Bello is reduced to the wife debilitated by constant weeping. She and Jackman are nothing but cartoons! Viola Davis is given nothing to do. Terrence Howard is also given so little to do that his side eyes at Jackman by virtue of its subtlety becomes some of the best physical acting in the entire picture! Jake Gyllenhaal - let’s be honest: who the hell thought that naming him Loki was a good idea? - hardly does much and just exists to act as moral relief to Jackman. It’s a chore if you can’t stand its constant self-seriousness. The film really drags itself out for two hours until Melissa Leo steps into the spotlight creating some real drama and tension. She’s the highlight of the movie here. Afterwards, it comes to a flat conclusion the less said the better. I’ll give this to the movie: it withholds the music until the last act. Most of the film plays without a score until then. Roger Deakins' cinematography is the one reason to recommend this movie. It is superb though a pity it doesn’t serve a better movie. I wish I had a better opinion of this one.

“One does not simply walk into Kate Bush’s discography"

After eleven years of loving Kate Bush, I’m still not the most informed of her ardent fans. The critical consensus seems to have placed Hounds of Love as her magnum opus. As a new fan – and then devoted listener – this album felt like the best way to get my Kate fix. It’s a wonderful album and it feels as if I’ve been rooted in that land for my entire life. Still, this album represents only one remarkable achievement in her career. Her discography is studded with gems across the output of nine full-length albums. With a work as formidable as Hounds of Love, how could anyone venture elsewhere? Kate Bush does not speak with one voice so in many ways her varied techniques of singing and rich cast of characters is the perfect vehicle for showing her talents and winning new listeners. Short of Bob Dylan, Tori Amos, or even Jandek – three prolific songwriters who come to mind randomly – who else has offered so many ways to see one person’s musical world? Not too many, but then again is Kate Bush even of this world? On the evidence of the passion, weirdness, and humanity of her music, I’d like to think that she is. Like all of Bowie’s infamous stage incarnations, there’s something immediately compelling about the sight of Kate Bush. For many, it’s the music video for “Wuthering Heights” while for others it’s the eccentric fashion sense of her early career. (Personally, the cover of The Dreaming is my favorite but I’d be lying if I didn’t say that her dancing and miming in “Wuthering Heights” remains the most potent.) Whatever the cause of so much fascination with the woman, this voice that seems to come from nowhere is still the most powerful. An acquired taste like Chinese opera or Joanna Newsom, it’s not a voice that immediately sounds like one destined for pop hit infamy. (Madonna’s first two albums were released between The Dreaming and Hounds of Love.) Despite what we consider fashionable or unconventional, it’s her voice and its wonderful manipulations that constitute much of her legend. Call her mother, witch, lover, friend, or “something that you’ll never comprehend” – all those roles are whatever you want to see in her, but it’s always on her terms. Who can’t love someone who is herself as much as others within herself in similar ways to how we love so many others different to us? Sometimes I can only wonder so here’s ten songs that bring me closer to her world. 

"Hounds of Love"
"Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God)"  
"WutheringHeights"
"Oh to Be in Love"  
"James and the Cold Gun"
"L'Amour Looks Something Like You"
"The Big Sky"
"And Dreams of Sheep"
"And So Is Love"
"Nocturn"

The Best of 2013

Wax Idols, Discipline + Desire
Janelle Monae, Electric Lady
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, Push The Sky Away 
The Field, Cupid's Head 
Austra, Olympia 
Agrimonia, Rites of Separation 
Frankie Rose, Herein Wild 
Yamantaka Sonic Titan, Uzu 
Matmos, The Marriage of True Minds 
Camera Obscura, Desire Lines

The Wolf of Wall Street and Moral Outrage

How anyone can find the movie anything less than scathing is beyond me. Most of it is uncomfortable enough to watch, but the increasing stakes (and grotesque excess) wind up the tension even more tightly. As the movie continues, it puts you off more and more thoroughly. As if the amount of money generated to create these bacchanals isn’t ridiculous enough, the men behind the parties create the most distance. Who would even want to celebrate with them? The movie shoots it all so quickly that it hardly creates a lasting impression beyond the momentary high that these men feel. The stakes and the consequences create the only sense of gravity. Even then it doesn’t last long as an act of God makes Belfort barely change his tune for longer than a minute. He fights against everyone and everything in his way until he’s truly cornered. Even then he tries to escape with no thought for those around him. I don’t know how Scorsese could make the man more contemptible. The voiceover narration almost does it all single-handedly! In many instances, he wasn’t all that subtle. Belfort at his club late at night drugged out of his mind is a notable example. It’s not funny or light or ironic. It’s physically uncomfortable to witness as his motor functions are utterly reduced. This really is Jerry Lewis in extremis. His struggle seems impossible, but consumed with saving himself the scene continues excruciatingly as he manages to get into his car. Belfort is never more degraded than here. Still, he keeps swimming through the garbage with many proudly beside him. It’s a disturbing picture of mankind. At first, rather than being swallowed by his environment, Belfort wades into it. Two scenes early on indicate the sort of scumbag that will stand by his side. Matthew McConaughey as Mark Hanna offers advice that indicates the hedonistic wherewithal needed to thrive in the business. Jonah Hill as Donnie Azoff is even more absurd as a man who marries his cousin because she’s too hot to be left around for other men to fuck her. The competitive acquisitiveness of such a man says it all and from there only gets worse. Belfort himself barely looks better. He’s not some genius analyst at all. He just wears people down and dares others to be just as overbearing. If you find that kind of man respectable then there’s not much to say. The movie certainly doesn’t make him relatable or likable. It’s a long, exhausting movie that makes the business world look like a total jungle. That the man who made Taxi Driver and Goodfellas has a cast of characters who look even worse than men in those earlier films is a sad enough commentary on our times.

“Give Yourself to Dreams”: On Wax Idols

In this season of mists and spookiness, now is the best time to discuss Wax Idols. As much as I hear different influences through punk, post punk, and riot grrl or even specific vocal influences like Corin Tucker or the occasional Joey Ramone, I’m not interested in comparisons as a way to critique. Hether Fortune is more than capable so let’s leave it at that. There’s only one Siouxie, one Blondie, one Wire – so let there be one Wax Idols. I will single out influences, but only to indicate how well the band uses them. Capable musicians refine with intelligence rather than reproduce mechanically. Wax Idols is exciting because of its talent not its record collection.

No Future is quite a winning record because it’s an exciting sprint through their strengths. It’s also an incredibly fun album because of its lack of bullshit. The point of the debut is announcing itself and doing so without fuss. Sparse production and bare arrangements like any great, classic punk record of yore are evident much to its power. “Dead Like You” is a fine introduction with some strong guitar playing, but the next song “Hitman” really shows the band’s style. The song builds to two climaxes: the exclaimed “Let’s go!” (who on earth wouldn’t want to follow?) and the closing repeated “Kill ‘em all (kill ‘em kill ‘em).” Already two songs completed and you want to hear more – or hear them again. Another blast of the same energy ending with a frustrated scream ("Dilno") and the record has made its challenge. Then you get "Gold Sneakers" with “I I la-la-love you” as its refrain – quite a change, but a welcome one after the opening intensity. “Nothing At All” features an acoustic performance that gives way to the band roaring back. “Human Condition” opens side two with some feedback reminiscent of latter-day Mission of Burma. A manifesto on social torpor, it’s followed by a more dynamic evaluation of the first world working week, “Bad Future”. Engaging and unrelenting, whatever the lyrics each song is excellent.

Truly amazing is the cover of Wire’s “Sand in My Joints” because of how the band punches it up. It bristles with even more energy and attitude than the original. It’s a great instance of musical scene chewing and it works so well. Then with easy enthusiasm, they close with one of the record’s most exciting songs: “Grey Area”. This is a wonderful anthem showcasing No Future's strengths.

Discipline + Desire then came as quite a surprise. Stylistically, it felt like the band had jumped from The Damned (Damned Damned Damned) to Interpol (Turn On the Bright Lights). That said, by no means is it a sophomore slump. Actually, the increase in quality is more pointed as it’s a forward stride in imagination as much as sophisticated production value. The element that stands out immediately is the drumming. A feature of both records, it’s refreshing to hear a band with such a great sense of rhythm. The guitar feedback and singing prove to be even more explosive. It’s a superb blend of strengths that make the album such a tour de force.

Discipline + Desire is an appropriate title in terms of album sequencing: the first half aggressive and the second half more seductive. The Teenage Jesus vibe that announces the record – aggressive and stabbing a la “Orphans” – only begins to scratch the surface of new influences as well as unique talents within the album. The menace of side one begins with “Stare Back” as it stares into the recesses of humanity. (A typical day at work?) The playing like the singing is cold and imperious. Never aloof, the songs are exciting and brash much like No Future. It culminates in “Scent of Love” with a remarkable performance worthy of Jarboe circa Sacrificial Cake. The second side eases back on the sonic assault, but stays strong on its influences. A less abrasive side of songs, they’re among my favorites. Chief among these pleasing characteristics is the ballad-like nature of the songs. Engaged with the subjects of the songs, the singing is more introspective and highlights the beauty of Fortune’s voice. This culminates in “AD RE:IAN” with some excellent Daniel Ash-like guitar playing. A contrast to side one, the nuance in the guitar playing is beautiful to hear. Ending on a high note much like No Future’s “Grey Area” is the introspective “Stay In” which caps the many strengths of the album's new directions.  Self-seriousness is no crime so it’s nice how the album ends on a silly note with an unlisted track called “Dead Boys Can't Say No”. Part of me wondered if it was a cover of some lost 45 Grave song. It takes some confidence to end such a dark, brooding record with dry humor like this.

Which album is the best? I think this is the wrong question - especially as both albums showcase different, excellent sides of the band. No Future says "Kill 'em all" and Discipline + Desire says "Dethrone them all" with equal amounts of malevolence. The reason for artistic change is continued growth and here Wax Idols shows its talent. Consistent to both records is the quality of singing. The singing is genuine and effective without being too earnest or distant. No Future is effective to the point of little nuance although that works very well to show where the band and the songwriting excels. Clipped, but not diffidently so. The emotion carries each song to provide extra force. No Future, contrary to its title, explores what the band can do. Their next record, however, threw down the gauntlet. Discipline + Desire is colder, but the vocals have a richer palette. Bewitching, nuanced, and layered in a way that only practice and confidence affords. She knows that we’re listening. On the strength of these two albums so will we.

Angel Olsen in Lexington

Angel Olsen with her guitarist and drummer played in Lexington a week ago. Based on her album, Half Way Home, I wasn't sure what to expect in the live setting. The album is stark, dark, and introverted. The spare musical accompaniment seemed like it could not be bested at a concert. I was wrong. Not only did Olsen play electric guitar, she was complemented by a drummer of great capability. I cannot overstate how wonderfully these songs bloomed on stage that night. All traces of Tarnation - whom I love, incidentally - that I heard on her album were stripped away to reveal a lean, fierce, smoldering fury. Something had pissed her off; I was riveted. Under the spell of the musicianship and the singing, I had no idea what would happen next. Her eyes sometimes locked on me as I sat near the back, all the hairs on the back of my neck tried running away. Sadly, soon something would piss her off. Playing at a bar, the number of patrons was much greater than the number of her audience. No-one in the bar would shut up to make space for her songs. It was heartbreaking and infuriating. Just the way she played guitar scared me so god knows what fate an errant barfly would meet were the artist beyond good and evil. The set was cut short, unfortunately. She ended the night solo on that electric guitar playing a song of Polly Jean Harvey or Townes Van Zandt levels of fatalism. Contemporary examples would be Cat Power or Sharon Van Etten, but in terms of musical terror and lyrical potency I'm thinking PJH and TVZ. Her playing was simple but fluent. It was an attack with exact grace. I was stunned, but I didn't want it to end. Still, it did end. This was one of the best evenings that I've ever witnessed. 

For another perspective and a full set, let me defer to Jennifer Kelly's review.

Frank X. Walker

Walker spoke here the other day. I was unfamiliar with the man's work so I wasn't sure what to expect other than a lecture. I couldn't have been more impressed.First, he spoke about the diversity of Appalachian culture and some of the specifics of Affrilachian history. My familiarity with the history of Black America was lacking here so his introduction was helpful. Second, he read from his poetry. The canon of Western poetry did not prepare me for Walker so here he blew me away. He read Death By Basketball, My Boy D, In Hell Exhale, Rock Star, Cold Still, and My Poems Been Runnin' They Mouths Again. A live reading never hurts, but the formal beauties of the work couldn't be louder: subtle emotion, warm humor, and straightforward expression. Walker turned on a light and as your eyes adjust you see the details. The poems were not complicated or abstract. They were narrative, but boiled down to the emotional subtext we intuit when we get down to what another is saying. He records the struggle of life with great sympathy. Rock Star was especially impressive in its assured use of metaphor to discuss drug use as bad candy that eats away at you. My Poems Been Runnin' They Mouths Again was also impressive in how Walker simply showed the ways art communicates back to us just as we try to use it to communicate with others. Straightforward, measured craft that expressed the maximum of emotional and truthful nuances of life and our relationships with others. Walker's work opened my mind to new ways of expressing love and truth.