Even though I've seen more current films since the last one I properly reviewed (the definitely-going-to-end-up-on-my-top-10 You're Next), I haven't really found enough to go into an in-depth review of any of them. I know that's bad practice, as a film critic should be able to adequately write about any film, no matter how much he or she can draw from, but if American Hustle is the movie to get me motivated enough to write about a film... well, I'm certainly more than happy with that, to say the least.
I try not to get too hyped from trailers (I'm still going into The Wolf of Wall Street cautiously optimistic), the meticulous releases in advance of American Hustle only further built up my interest. With my enjoyment of David O. Russell's last two films, the terrific cast assembled for this film, and the excellent music choices in both of the movie's trailers in tow, I went into this hoping it could live up to at least a fraction of my anticipation.
Man, oh, man, though, is this a fun movie. A well-made, well-acted movie with great directorial stylistic flair, but a fun movie, too. All three of the film's main characters are continually interesting and are played with defined, engaging identities. Christian Bale is great as Irving Rosenfeld, a role in which his commitment to living in the character's skin (in this case, a noticeable gut and a combover) buries the actor within the character. I like Amy Adams' character as she's written (a woman so desperate to escape her identity that she creates a new person with her own motives and thoughts separate from the original) better than how it's executed, with a weak, fluctuating British accent that would have realistically been noticed extremely early in the film. (Hey, movies in general: Can we give the weirdly distracting British accents a rest? Between this and Elysium [which, OK, featured a fake British accent 100x worse than this one], I'm just about fed up with its use altogether.)
But, once again, Bradley Cooper proves to be the strongest link in an already strong cast. Having now seen Silver Linings Playbook after really taking a liking to his role in The Place Beyond the Pines, I applaud his ability (when paired with the right directors) to take characters into a realm that can be more relatable or exciting than other actors. This is certainly a case for the latter, as there's something oddly intriguing in his character's unorthodox courses of action even as he lets his anger get the better of him. For another actor, it may have resulted in a grating performance, but there's something weirdly fascinating in Cooper's progressive bullying of his superior (Louis C.K. in a straight-man role, whose interactions with Cooper provide a good deal of the film's highlights).
Elsewhere, Jeremy Renner is merely passable, serving as simply a plot device by the film's conclusion. Most interesting is Jennifer Lawrence's supporting role as Rosenfeld's estranged wife, whose erratic, unpredictable behavior out-crazies all three main characters combined. However, despite a scene in which she flaunts all of her passive-aggressive insanity like nothing, she ultimately just becomes a wrench thrown into the plot to generate conflict.
Though there's much more to discuss casting-wise, something should be said of the film's structural and stylistic resemblances. Plenty of comparisons have already been made to Goodfellas (which are made explicit through the laying out of character background via narration and in media res opening), but I feel that this film is somewhat of a love letter to The Sting. The professions of Bale and Adams's characters, as well as the central conflict of the film seem to hark back to that film in ways that struck me as less-than-accidental. But, hey, that might just be me and brain's odd means of tangential connection.
I'm not sure where American Hustle currently stands on my mental tracking of the year's films, or even within David O. Russell's oeuvre, but I found what I really liked about the film to outweigh any stray thoughts otherwise (the less said about the "Live or Let Die" sequence, the better). Every little interesting aspect or character tic within the film made the runtime a breezy, fun experience that I'd gladly watch again. If nothing else, I'll certainly be thinking fondly about the film a lot over the next few days.
Alright, I'll keep this as brief as possible, but I wanted to get this down in writing somewhere, so here goes: I'm probably not going to work on editing the new episode of CineMatt Reviews for the next 10 days or so for a few reasons.
1. I only have on-camera bits right now, and I have no idea if they came out well enough to work. I'm going to briefly look them over this week and see if they need re-filming (long story short, outside noise may be a crippling factor in the quality of these clips). If so, then I'll have to delay that until midway through the month. If not, well, I still have to do voiceover, which should probably start around that same time unless I have the time to do it beforehand.
2. As you could guess from the above segment, I'm incredibly strapped for time these next 10 days. There's simply more important stuff at stake and I'm not going to put that aside just to get a video out a week or two sooner.
3. I bought Adobe Premiere Elements on Black Friday, but it's currently sitting in a box two states away. Yet again, I'll be able to tool around with it in 10 days, so I don't want to start editing this episode in iMovie when I could start swinging over to better software.
I know I'm woefully inaccurate every time I make estimations for uploads, but I want to get this episode done by the end of the month... which is easier said than done. Let me put it this way: I'm going to be on the other side of the country for a week this month and will only have a few more days left before 2014 when I get back. If I power-edit the week before I leave for that trip, I may be able to get most of it done effectively. Plus, I want to be able to put out the year-end retrospective videos I've been kicking around in January while they'll be relevant. (The film countdown should be extraordinarily easy to write and edit, while the songs one will probably have more effort thrown into it. If I decide to do a miscellaneous retrospective after that [and I really want to] it will most likely be vlog-style.)
So, temporary game plan:
Episode 3 of CineMatt Reviews: Sometime in December (early January at the worst)
Retrospectives: January
Better time management: God knows when
I've been waiting for this moment since February. As a huge music nerd, I like talking about music even if it's not within my video-making wheelhouse. I actually planned to make my second ever video a countdown for my picks for the best songs of last year (and filmed footage for it, which then got properly fucked up) and, since I never actually finished that venture, my yearning to do the same this year has been even higher than it would normally have been. So, I've been keeping tabs on every truly memorable and noteworthy song I've heard this past year and have amassed a whopping 52 candidates for what will probably end up being 10 finalists. Since I'm making this a huge thing for this year, I figured I should lay down some ground rules for how I'm organizing my final list.
One song per artist/band. As much as I would love to put every song from ...Like Clockwork on this list, it just wouldn't be fair to all of the other equally great music from this year.
Songs are judged on a purely subjective scale. Though the title of it is "Best," it's not actually the be-all-end-all decider of these matters. And, let's face it: "Matt's Favorite Songs of 2013" doesn't exactly have the same ring to it.
Songs must have first debuted in 2013. That means that, if song was on an album that came out in 2012 and then became a single in 2013, it doesn't count, and vice versa. I'm still debating on whether Unknown Mortal Orchestra's Swim and Sleep (Like A Shark) qualifies on these terms.
Covers are fair game. Trust me, this will matter.
This one's purely personal, but strong openers/closers and/or insanely good lyrics hold a lot of clout. As a big album person, the former usually makes a huge, weighted impact on my opinions. The latter is just due to my admiration for great writing.
...and that's honestly it for now. I don't really have many clearly defined indicators for what I deem "best," but this seems to encapsulate what my thoughts have been towards this list so far. If I think of more, I'll tack them on. Also, I'll put a tally of the number of songs in the running after each round of listening and subsequent elimination that I go through, updating this post whenever I narrow the playing field further.
Initial # of Candidates: 52
After First Round: 24
After Second Round: 20
After Third Round: 12
After Fourth (and Final) round: 11
...I'm going to lose my mind doing this, aren't I?
(In order to discuss what stood out for me in Gone Home in detail, I need to dive into what some people will consider major spoilers. If you haven't played the game yet and don't want anything spoiled, play the game right away then come back and read this.)
Let me clear something up right away: I don't think that games can't (or have not yet) delved into truly mature territory yet. Plenty of games have dealt with complex themes and difficult subjects, but what hit me the hardest about Gone Home was how it handled what was at its core. In the past 24 hours, after finishing the game, I've been thinking about the storyline that stood out to me the most and have been reading up on various pieces of analysis. Though I definitely failed to pick up on some subtle bits of information (Terry's story makes a lot more sense having read the confirmed subtext regarding him and Oscar), the main focus of the game with Sam still resonated because it felt the most real.
While I, as many people think, do not necessarily condone or approve of what Sam actually does by the game's conclusion (running away from home explicitly and possibly stealing her parents' possessions implicitly), the way the game conveys this plot is what hit me hard. First off, the writing within Sam's journals is raw, simple, and human. It's already incredibly rare to see a queer romance in video games given as much attention as the one at the center of this game, but the way it's detailed is surprisingly realistic. The relationship between Sam and Lonnie is treated like an honest-to-God love story and, though you can see somewhat where it's headed early into the game, the realism behind some of the events in their shared experience is achingly executed.
The journal entry that I thought was the strongest (and the clearest indicator of the power of this plot) was the one in which Sam describes eventually telling her parents about her relationship with Lonnie. Instead of outright denying her sexual identification, they tell her she's just going through a phase, a statement that hurts her harder than the other option ever could have. That alone emotionally floored me. I mean, wow. I could discuss in length why this entry itself had this much emotional impact, but, due to my own lack in speaking to this section's accuracy, I'm going to direct you to an article that says that much better than I ever could.
Secondly, I love how the game subverts common player expectations of execution to tell its story in the simplest way possible. Despite the constantly present storm buzzing in your ears and the effectively creepy sound effects (the creaking of floors and doors, obviously, but at one point, I distinctly heard a whispering of "Hey, you" out of nowhere), there are no scares or any threatening forces in the house. Why? Because, like Sam, the only things that could possibly stand to hurt you are those that occupy the house. The occupants (the chief perpetrators) may be gone, but the documentation of what happened is enough to create emotional scars. This is why simple exploration, the core feature of the game, works much better than it sounds on paper. Discovering how these scars are formed is the true tension of the game. By the time I realized where the events with Sam and Lonnie were going, the game turned into me steadfastly searching for the next entry, promptly followed by me feeling extreme sympathy due to these notes' openness and honesty. I started the game dreading where the "psycho house" business was headed, thinking I had it figured out. I ended the game racing to the attic, anxious and worried about how Sam's story would end.
The fact that a game made me not only willing to simply explore people's lives (people who we never actually see in person, mind you) peripherally, but enthralled to learn the next piece of their narrative merely by examining objects lying about is a marvel. I can't say enough in this game's favor; it's easily one of my most memorable gaming experiences ever, one which I'm certain I won't ever forget the emotional impact it's had on me.
So, as I’ve said in the
past, maybe it’s best not to attach a target date to my videos. This latest
video, which, if my current plans are on target, will come out about three
months after the last one, has been a killer to get around to doing.
As I assumed, once summer
ended, my free time has just been nonexistent. It took me a month alone just
trying to watch the movie for the next episode again and take notes on it. It
then took another month trying to devote time to writing the script. I only
hope it won’t take another month to film the damn thing, as I want to be done
with it as soon as possible.
However, I plan on being a
lot more manageable in my devotion to videos in the coming months. My schedule
looks a lot better come mid-December and, fingers crossed, I’m going to try to
get at least one video done each month.
Even still, be ready for
January. In lieu of a review, I’m probably going to be doing at least two,
maybe three if I need be, retrospectives on this year in both film and music. I
started making videos with the former last year and, now that I actually know
what I’m doing, this year’s version of that should definitely be more
entertaining to watch. I tried doing one for the latter last year, but my awful
knowledge of technology made that video unwatchable so I outright scrapped it.
Still, I’ll have more than enough time to do both of those videos, and possibly
one more, in January before CineMatt Reviews returns in February.
So, to recap:
-New CineMatt Review
coming soon-ish (no promises on date)
-Two (or three)
retrospectives in January
-More timely releases of
videos in 2014
Got that? Good. Here’s to
some fucking awesome videos in the near future.
A few days ago, I vaguely knew of Chumbawamba's insanely storied and varied career, and was familiar with only a couple of their songs, but never delved deeper than that. That changed when I came across a CD copy of WYSIWYG (What You See Is What You Get) lying around, burned it onto my computer out of pure curiosity, sat back and listened.
I can't tell if this is the best decision of my life or what will ultimately doom me. This album has consumed my life. I've listened to it once a day for four days straight. I have multiple songs stuck in my head. And, perhaps the deadliest factor, I now want to listen to the entirety of Chumbawamba's discography.
WYSIWYG is one of the best albums I've heard in years. It's fantastic as an album, as a collection of songs, and as an entry point for Chumbawamba newbies such as myself. And it's slowly looking like it'll eventually creep onto my undocumented list of all-time favorite albums.
The album, the immediate follow-up to Tubthumper (featuring the band's massive hit Tubthumping), is a collection of various segments of musical avenues and detours, usually separated by some chatter or archaic sample, satirizing American pop culture as a response to the band's newfound popularity. As the recycled audio at the end of opener I'm With Stupid states:
And now, for the rest of the record,
We have a selection of musical items
A stereo treat for all your hard work
The band is sarcastically rewarding the audiences that launched them into cultural relevancy. How? By bitingly taking them down a few pegs. The names that get mentioned and subsequently skewered throughout the album include Rush Limbaugh, George W. Bush, Jerry Springer, and Charlton Heston. When not particularly naming names, the group still has their sights dead-set on a specific audience (the upper class is notably brutally savaged lyrically on songs like She's Got All The Friends That Money Can Buy and I'm Coming Out). All of this is suitably fitting within Chumbawamba's left-wing, anarchist, constantly critical history, but has even more of a bite to it when paired with well-produced, catchy dance beats.
What separates WYSIWYG from other albums that need to be listened to entirely to get the full effect (like Need New Body's UFO) are two crucial things: musical motifs and overall quality of songs. Whereas UFO was a bizarre hodgepodge of throwing in every random idea in the hope that at least one would be worthwhile, WYSIWYG is simultaneously in a constant flow while subtly sneaking in signs that the album is a holistic affair. Melodies and samples resurface in the background or as outros to segue into the next song without any visible seams. It honestly feels as if the album was fully mapped out and planned meticulously, the band wholly aware of how the overall experience would come together.
Though you would think that this would make the songs themselves less notable, every song has something to bring to the table and a sizable chunk of the songs have at least one deviously memorable element that's sure to root itself into your brain. From the looping strings and distorted title chant of I'm Coming Out, to the slinky surf guitar and blaring brass of I'm In Trouble Again, to the overpowering bombast and badassery of Jesus in Vegas, there's something to love in almost every song.
The tone of the album makes it simple for anyone to jump in as well. There's a general sense of humor to pretty much every song, as the minor-key I'm With Stupid displays in a crystal-clear punchline. This extends to the various brief segments peppered throughout, such as Monkees-satirizing Hey Hey We're The Junkies and the group's take on morality advocation organizations in Ladies For Compassionate Lynching. The one time that the album clearly deviates from this tone is in its somber and chilling acapella cover of the Bee Gee's already deadly serious New York Mining Disaster 1941. Though the song sits uncomfortably in between Internet Age track WWW Dot and Woodstock riot-centric I'm Not Sorry, I Was Having Fun without any clear build-up or bridging, the punch hits harder than anything else on WYSIWYG.
I'm going to be totally honest here: I was unsure if I could find a negative thing to say about this album. There are plenty of songs that are going to remain glued to my memory banks for years to come. Every extraneous byway has a point and contributes to the greater themes and mood of the album, and, unlike UFO, are ultimately worth taking the minor detour for. The only song I find lacking in the entire album is Celebration, Florida, which makes its message clear far too soon and has only a single clever line in its three-plus minutes of time, meandering for the rest of its duration around the same central idea. Even still, this song is merely mediocre and, when faced with the multitude of choice selections spread throughout the album, doesn't detract that much from the overall experience.
And, may I say, it's an experience well worth having. If I end up becoming a die-hard Chumbawamba fan as a result of listening to this album, I can safely say that I'll be more than glad to have done so. For better or worse, this album has squeezed its way into my life and, based on how I've been internalizing it over the past few days, is sure to remain a part of it for a while.
Best Songs: I'm In Trouble Again, Jesus in Vegas, I'm Coming Out Worst Song (based solely on a relative scale): Celebration, Florida
It's over. It's hard to say it and actually mean it, but it's over. Even if I don't feel like it's over, I can recognize that it's over. So, I guess the only thing I can do to help me come to terms with the fact that it's over is to talk about it in depth.
Since 2010, Breaking Bad has been my personal refuge in obsessive television habits. After hearing all of the hubbub about the show's "Half Measures" episode, I decided to watch it without any prior exposure to the show and only a vague knowledge of what it was about.
And, by the end of it, I was hooked. The cliffhanger of the episode sold me enough to watch "Full Measure," and the ending of that episode made me want to watch every previous episode.
Breaking Bad was a revelation for me. As someone previously apt to watch shows on a purely visceral level, the way Breaking Bad asked, nay, begged its viewers to watch it was marvelous. There were a bevy of "Holy crap!"-worthy moments that could hook those simply looking for thrilling television, but the layers underneath were astounding. There were the characters, developed and defined in ways that surpassed the typical "single defining characteristic" method. There was the blurred morality as viewers were constantly challenged on how much they wanted Walter White to triumph in his goals or how much they would support his decisions. And, for those brave enough to seek it out, there was a daunting amount of symbolism and meaning behind the images and framing that made watching the show with a close eye infinitely rewarding. (There's also the blistering stupidity of hatred towards Skyler, but it's best not to discuss that.)
So, with so much to live up to and more people watching than ever, Breaking Bad was inevitably going to fight an uphill battle in satisfying with its conclusion. Did it succeed? Well, from my own perspective, yes. But, in true Breaking Bad fashion, it did so in a way that I wasn't expecting.
Based on the build-up from the last few episodes (specifically from "To'hajiilee" onward), I was expecting a raucous, no-holds-barred, intense rush to the finish line. After all, given the cataclysmic events in "Ozymandias," one could easily assume that an eventful response was all but assured. The implied calm before the storm of the penultimate "Granite State" seemed to cement that things were primed for an explosive finale.
Yet, a curious thing happened on Sunday, September 29th at 9:00 pm. The final episode of Breaking Bad, "Felina" (which, as knowledgable Internet hounds have noted, has a triple meaning linked to the periodic table, referenced in a Marty Robbins song that appeared in the first scene, and as an anagram for "finale"), closed the series with a whimper rather than a bang. Things ended, loose ends were tied, nothing (with the exception of one Huell Babineaux, still presumably waiting in a DEA safe house) was left to the imagination. Yet, there was an oddly solemn, hollow, empty feeling to it all.
Clarification: This is not a bad thing. In fact, not only do I believe that this was intentional, I believe that it puts just the right footnote on the series and the legacy of Heisenberg. Here's why.
In the aftermath of the finale, I read a couple of reviews that suggested that things wrapped up a tad too neatly for Walt's often messily executed plans. Let me throw out a suggestion: "Ozymandias," the most eventful, chaotic episode of the series, in which everything spiraled horribly out of control, was the way it was because the control in that episode was out of Walt's hands. The Nazis kill Hank and Gomez in their unorganized yet effective manner. Walt twists the knife into Jesse due to his overflowing shock and rage. He loses his family because they finally reject his lies.
It's for this reason that "Granite State" is perhaps the most necessary transition episode of the show. The implied trapping of Walter White in the Hell that is his remote New Hampshire cabin, slowly dying from the cancer, unable to atone for his sins one last time when denied the opportunity to give his son the money he spent the entire series earning is what makes the Walter White we see in "Felina." Here is a man, left with no safety net, nothing left to hang on to, acting methodically and in control for the first time in a while. Perhaps it's the cancer taking hold, perhaps it's the systematic destruction of the hellish New Hampshire tundra, but this is a different Walter White than the one who left Albuquerque.
Note the minimalist dialogue in every scene with Walt. Now, no longer feeling the need to stand by his eloquent, drawn-out fibs that were meant to explain his every action, Walter White is the most honest he's ever been. That also means he has very little to say. The first couple of scenes have him making his first moves in near silence, occasionally muttering a couple of lines when he needs to. But, even when he's face-to-face with previous acquaintances, he speaks only the truth and as bluntly as possible. Take, for example, his first true moment of honesty with Skyler since the pilot:
"I did it for me. I was good at it. And I was really --- I was alive."
As I previous stated, there's an air of solemnity that naturally comes with the conclusion of a dramatic show, but there also lurks a hollowness beneath that was wholly unexpected. By the end of the episode, I wasn't all too emotional or stunned. I just got an empty feeling inside. I was satisfied, but I got the sense that the show ripped a hole inside of me, devoid of sentiment, that conveyed exactly how it is to feel loss even with closure. The shocking stuff was there, but with a expedient and deliberate attitude. The M60 massacre isn't an extended bloodbath as the show foreshadowed, but merely a sudden annihilation that practically concludes before the gun runs out of bullets.
In this respect, the finale could be a reflection of Walt's own actions: quick, effective, and ultimately withdrawn. The exchange between Skyler and Marie is especially telling; the Heisenberg legacy has reached a point where Walt simply being present generates a wave of panic and dread. Walt essentially goes through his to-do list without any major hiccups, but to what end? He, presumably, gets the money to his family, but, as the above quote establishes, that doesn't mean much to him. He frees Jesse, but only as a last-minute improvisation to his plotted course.
What matters, in the end, are the final moments of Walter White's life. Bleeding out from a stray bullet from his M60 rampage, he shambles over to the nearby meth lab and dies in the only place he truly lived. Family doesn't matter to Walter White. Jesse doesn't matter to Walter White. The only thing that does matter is his ego, fueling his legacy, his reputation as Heisenberg. In its waning moments, Breaking Bad strips its protagonist of his facade and lets the man who lived underneath show through.
Most people who leap to claim that MGMT lost their way or wish that they'd return to their roots are those who pine over their blockbuster success that was their debut, Oracular Spectacular. I fall into a different camp. Perhaps it was because my initial exposure to the group was through Flash Delirium, but I consider their follow-up, Congratulations, to be their crowning achievement, near-perfect except for the aimless Lady Dada's Nightmare. So, when I heard that the band was moving even further away from their alt-pop image for a more experimental take, I was hyped.
This album does not live up to said hype. In fact, I don't know if it could live up to any fan's hype, unless they found both previous albums lacking.
The shift in the group's third, self-titled album is one that ditches the prog rock, multitiered songs of Congratulations and the poppy hooks of Oracular Spectacular, going for an odd psych-drone variant. I could have bought into that if the songs were well structured or memorable enough, but instead, many of them fling their ideas at you either too quickly or over a slow-build to nowhere, allowing for little room for building on top of these ideas.
OK, maybe I'm getting too in-depth too early. The best comparison I can make is that this album is their non-mainstream equivalent to Oracular Spectacular. By that, I mean that, while Congratulations had a great flow to it and was evenly paced throughout the album, Oracular Spectacular was front-loaded to a fault, dooming the second half of the album to the insurmountable feat of besting what came before. MGMT faces the same problem, but to a far graver extent.
The album opens with the prog-based Alien Days, the first single from the album. Despite some ill-fitting elements (the off-tune melody in the bridge), the format of the verses really stuck with me. It's a suitable opening in that it eases the gap between Congratulations and this album, but does little to signify what's to come.
While the following song, Cool Song No. 2, doesn't falter much in quality (despite not taking to it much on my first listen, it's grown to become one of my favorites on the album), it's quite the departure from the opener. The heavy beats, the low-register vocals, everything points to an entirely different direction. And that's one of the problems of this album: Despite coming up with a made-up term for the genre of the album, I had trouble figuring out just what sense of identity MGMT was going for on this thing. They cited Aphex Twin as a major source, but I see little to no sign of that influence emerging. If anything (as I'll get into later), it's more of an imitation of Animal Collective than anything.
The next couple of songs, Mystery Disease and Introspection, both seem under-confident for the usually boisterous group. The lacking vocals fit the subject matter of both of these songs, but ultimately lead to them fading into the background once they end (except for Introspection; dear God, I don't know how this song is stuck in my head but I want it out).
Your Life is a Lie, despite the lackluster vocals, won me over due to how cohesively the song works. Imagine this song as a loudspeaker announcement in an idyllic society where everything is going perfectly. Then it all makes sense: the monotone, the pseudo-chanting, the basic beat, and the minimalistic chords all paint a larger picture. If only the rest of the album's songs had this much thought put into muted results, I might have bought into it.
After Your Life is a Lie, the album takes a catastrophic tailspin. A Good Sadness, though I found it interesting the first time around, ends up meandering for its entire length, never really doing much with the cool synth at its core. Astro-Mancy is the closest thing to homage this album comes to, with vocal style and instrumentation taken straight from Animal Collective's playbook. Yet, it fails to make it its own and dissipates from memory the second it ends.
And then there's I Love You Too, Death: the absolute nadir in both the album and MGMT's entire career. I'm OK with slow-build songs. I'm OK with off-kilter instrumentation. But, for whatever reason, this song just pisses me off to an irrational degree. Maybe it's the tonally-deafening recorders of doom. Maybe it's the lack of energy in vocal inflection (again). Maybe it's the fact that it makes the 12-minute Visiting Friends by Animal Collective seem progressive and evolving by comparison (yes, a weak comparison as I actually like that song, but still). Everything in this song just annoys me to an absurd degree. By the time the song finally builds to nothing, ending without a clear resolution, I was ready to just call it quits.
Then Plenty of Girls in the Sea comes on. Despite the unorthodox, out-of-key synth and the skittering beat throughout, something about this song just wins me over. Maybe it's because it includes the best vocals on the album save for Alien Days. Maybe it's the cool time signature swap in the breakdown. Maybe it's the group's best key change in the final verse. I just love everything about this song in ways that I can't adequately explain and it's by far my favorite song on the album.
The album ends on perhaps the most-telling note it could: the schizophrenic, uncertain An Orphan of Fortune. What starts out as a moody, solemn piece turns into a slow stomp, before shifting into a bluesy bridge, then reverting back to the stomp section. I honestly can't pin down my thoughts on this song as a whole, except that it ends leaving me even more mixed than before.
Did I enjoy this album? In parts. Did I dislike this album? In parts. Was I uncertain on how to feel overall? In parts. What does this show about MGMT's identity, as of now? That, it too, is in parts.
Best Songs: Plenty of Girls in the Sea, Cool Song No. 2, Your Life is a Lie Worst Songs: I Love You Too, Death, Astro-Mancy, An Orphan of Fortune
You're Next not only begins as a typical horror movie, but it was also advertised as one. The trailer (linked below) as well as the posters hinted at a film consisting solely of, "Ooh, look at these menacing guys in creepy animal masks who terrify people! This is our main source of fear, guys! This is the best we got!" This mentality was played out long by the time that the modern go-to template for home invasion movies, 2008's The Strangers, was released, so I and most of the moviegoing public wrote this off as yet another knock-off in that field.
Boy, was I wrong.
This may be from a purely immediate reactionary standpoint, but I had a blast with this movie. Similar to my quick realization that I formed an intense emotional bond with The Place Beyond the Pines, You're Next is shaping up to be quite possibly the most fun I've had at the movies this year (with the exception of The World's End). This might just be due to the way my opinion of the movie progressively changed: As the film evolved in style and tone, I found that the trajectory of quality was quite the upswing.
Take, for example, the opening. After a standard home invasion murder complete with obligatory jump-scare, we get a married couple moving into a new house. Check. Introductions to guests who will most likely have stock traits so that not much gets in the way of their deaths. Check. Suspicions that something is not right in the house, only to be quickly shrugged aside, the audience meanwhile fully aware that these assumptions had merit. Check. A family dynamic courtesy of a reunion built around the parents' anniversary. Che- Wait, that's new.
And this is the first sign that this movie is trying something different. From here, the movie uses the standard tropes of the tried-and-true format to not-so-subtly progress into something that's less of a horror film and more of a black comedy (one scene features the parents' daughter crying over the fact that her family thinks she's not as capable of running to get rescue as her siblings) with a horror format. While the family relationship doesn't remain at the forefront for long (it becomes more of an implied driving force for many of the later moments), it paves the way for interesting scenes and concepts.
One scene, in particular, seems like this film's equivalent of the bike scene in The Cabin in the Woods (for the record, that did horror movie deconstruction much better than this film, but I think that this scene works better than that film's solely due to the hilariously brutal shock gore here). The animal mask guys also hint at this movie's approach through the quietly funny way in which they act, cutting through the potential fright their appearances could muster. At one point, one sits down nonchalantly next to a corpse after murdering someone, the humor stemming from his staid stance. They're also on the receiving end of some of the comedy, such as the Home Alone-esque extent to which a couple of them get attacked.
Ultimately, what ends up working the most in this film's favor is it's satirical elements. By the end of the movie's second act, the film drops all notion of the "horror" aspect advertised for a bitterly funny and violent edge. The movie deliberately plays a good amount of this section for comedy, even though the context for these events is anything but. It's also giddily fun and an all-around really enjoyable movie. While not nearly at the same levels of visceral satisfaction as The Cabin in the Woods, the conclusion of this film has a gratifying edge that made me squirm and gasp with glee. Despite the fact that the final event of the movie comes as the result of an impractical judgment on one fairly level-headed character's part, the payoff that results is one of the most insanely awesome abrupt endings since 2011's Hanna.
By the end of it all, I could sayso much more about this movie (such as the fact that Sharni Vinson is fantastic and needs to get more roles as a result of this, or how cool the John Carpenter-esque soundtrack is, or about how we need to give the ludicrous number of GODDAMN SLOW-MO SHOTS a rest), but the fun factor ends up being the greatest strength of the film. As soon as the movie ends, complete with the film's main musical motif ("Looking for the Magic" by Dwight Twilley Band, which, trust me, makes a hell of a lot more sense in context) playing over the credits, I wanted to not only immediately buy a DVD copy of the film, but also talk about it to somebody, anybody who would listen. I wouldn't be surprised if this ends up being one of my favorite movies of the year.
It's kind of odd and somewhat antiquated, now that I think of it, to picture a movie like this, where voiceovers for trailers are as highly esteemed as they are, being released in 2013. Sure, I do vaguely recall a time when voiceovers in trailers were a big deal and telegraphed to the audience that THE MOVIE WE ARE ADVERTISING IS THE MOST IMPORTANT MOVIE YOU WILL SEE UNTIL THE NEXT MOST IMPORTANT MOVIE. But, after the passing of Don LaFontaine in 2008, the art of epic voiceover work for trailers seemed to subside.
Lake Bell's comedy, In A World..., resurrects the importance of a single powerful voice in the pantheon of movie legend by taking a decidedly striking approach: pitting one woman with a voice that rivals her male counterparts against sexist mores instilled in society. Granted, there's much more complexity and intricacy going on than that concept, but this is the main conflict the film posits a rebuttal to. Bell (in addition to writing and directing) plays Carol, daughter of fictional famous voiceover artist Sam Sotto, who, after being discouraged by her father on the difficulties of breaking into his line of work and being kicked out of his house, goes to stay with her sister and her husband who are themselves going through marital struggles. Other plot threads intertwine, including a fellow employee (Demetri Martin) with a crush on Carol and a rival voiceover star (Ken Marino) under Sotto's wing attempting to bring back the title phrase made famous by LaFontaine.
The film's subject matter has become its main talking point and it's for good reason. How often have you caught yourself thinking that we need equality of the sexes in a career like trailer voiceovers? The movie aims to ferment this notion within those who had never considered it before. But, what could have easily been a preachy message of equality comes across as an original, fresh take on feminist culture. This is most obviously present in one of the final exchanges of dialogue in the film, which eschews radical Amazonian feminism referenced throughout the film for a general instillment of empowerment that could serve as a strong stand-alone argument for the movement as a whole.
Bell's script here is sharp and witty, zipping along at a brisk pace that keeps the plot moving at a natural speed as opposed to rushing through all of the necessary beats. Bell brings an astoundingly human, flawed, yet good-natured turn in the lead role, but Martin's lovable awkwardness and Fred Melamed's realistic stubbornness are noteworthy as well. The supporting cast is excellent here, with Michaela Watkins, Marino, Rob Corddry (yes, this movie is somewhat of a mini-Childrens Hospital reunion, though Marino and Corddry never appear on screen together) Nick Offerman, and Tig Notaro (exceedingly funny in her brief screen-time) among others in bit parts.
Though the script does allow for a lot to happen in a light 93 minutes, it also lets quite a bit go and is, at times, overstuffed. A minor plot thread involving Carol's sister and an Irish director seems to go nowhere after it's resolved with 30 minutes left in the film, aside from a brief reference at the end. Another minor character, a British neighbor, appears in two scenes with hints that she may become important later in the film, but then disappears without a mention.
The movie is also structured in an unorthodox fashion. The first two-thirds of the movie serve as an ensemble piece of sorts, with the big conflict at the end hinted at but not pursued. By the third act, all other side plots are dropped and the main arc of the film becomes the only one. While this isn't necessarily detrimental to the film, it sticks out quite a bit and leads to some awkward shifts in pacing.
But the film gets by on its charm alone. It's a genuinely enjoyable film that has its highs and lows, but I found myself liking it throughout, flaws and all. By combining a noteworthy concept with a overwhelming amount of positivity, In A World... won me over by being the most likable thing a film can be: charming.
About one month ago, after I learned that Blip would be hosting CineMatt Reviews, I made a brief announcement video discussing what that would mean for the sites I would upload videos to. Naturally, since Blip was happy to give CineMatt Reviews a home and YouTube's finicky copyright policy would make future episodes of the show troublesome, CineMatt Reviews would be uploaded to Blip only. What I was uncertain about was where I would post my Gut Reactions to current movies, ultimately choosing to put them onto YouTube only.
Well, I'm reluctant to note that, as of right now, I'm putting Gut Reaction videos on hiatus. This doesn't mean that I'll never do Gut Reactions again or that I won't review current movies. What this does mean is that, for the time being, I won't be doing video reviews for current films.
Now, there are a few reasons for this. First and foremost, I'm not entirely happy with my execution of the concept. Unlike CineMatt Reviews, Gut Reactions are unscripted. As such, I often have a few talking points I want to discuss, but don't know how to exactly phrase them. Someone who's good at improvising on the spot or who's a quick talker could pull this off well. I am neither of those. As such, I try to make myself as verbose as I am in my writing on screen, off the top of my head, which, as you can imagine, is quite clunky when I'm not as quick-witted or sharp-tongued as I'd like to be. Quite simply, I tend to stumble over my words or just pause or stammer trying to get what I want to convey.
Second, even when I do clearly know what I'm trying to say (after a certain number of takes, I have a crude idea of a "script" to stick to in my head), I'm not sure if video reviews for these are the way to go. I'll admit, my videos could just as easily be podcasts (even though that still doesn't solve my verbal arthritis). They sound like written reviews being read aloud... albeit still in the process of being written.
Third, while I like the concept of my reviews, there's a variation on it that seems to work better than the default one I have right now: that of unscripted group reviews immediately after having seen these movies (i.e. Team Snob's Midnight Reviews). However, most of my close friends are not as "cinematically-inclined" as I am (to give you an idea of what I'm talking about, the only movie I saw this year with them was Iron Man 3). Now, if in the future, my friends ever want to get in front of the camera and talk about movies with me, I'd be more than happy to do so. In fact, I wouldn't put it out of the question that, if a movie really demands I do so in a way that only video can accomplish, I'll hop in front of the camera to do a Gut Reaction video in the future.
Fourth (this one solidified my opinion), I haven't been feeling as strongly about my Gut Reaction videos up until this point as I have been with CineMatt Reviews. CineMatt Reviews demands that I use video, taking advantage of editing, in-depth commentary, and visual representation of my opinions in a way that Gut Reactions just can't match. Not to sound too cautious, but I do feel that, at a certain point, as I try to stay on schedule with CineMatt Reviews (yes, I am actually trying to stick to a reasonable timetable with these videos), making Gut Reaction videos for every current movie I see will hinder my progress on those primary efforts.
With this final point, I asked myself a question that eventually made up my mind: Do I want to put in the effort to what amounts to so-so, simplistic videos when the same amount of effort can create fleshed-out and analytically written reviews? The answer, when I phrased the question that way, was "no".
But, this doesn't mean the end for my reviews of current films. On the contrary, I'm taking something that could use improvement and use it as a building block for further experience. This blog, in addition to the irregular album review here and there (as I have been wont to do), will now host written reviews on current films as I see them. The two most recent films I have seen (In A World... and You're Next) further cemented this choice of mine as they are both movies I want to exactly phrase my opinions on rather than desperately grasp for the proper words over the span of five minutes.
What I hope this will accomplish is that it'll improve my writing, both on film and elsewhere, while giving me an outlet for my opinions on current movies. CineMatt Reviews will be my primary effort video-wise; this blog will be my primary source for written efforts.
So, to put a long-winded explanation of my reasoning short: Gut Reaction videos are being put to the side for now (but could make a return at some point). Written reviews of current films on this blog will take their place. CineMatt Reviews are going to be my main video efforts. With that in mind, I'll try my damnedest to make both of these the best that they can be.
(Film reviews for In A World... and You're Next will be posted soon.)
Lately, I've been getting somewhat desperate in terms of music that I latch onto. It's less that any song that's downright catchy leads me on an epic search for the rest of that artist's efforts, but more that if a song by a random artist, unbeknownst to me, that I've never heard of before suddenly enters my world at full force and I find it impossible to drive it out, that I search out the rest of what whoever that may be has to offer.
And this is what led me to Need New Body.
Backstory time! A few weeks back, Anthony Fantano (better known as "theneedledrop") did an online DJ set on turntable.fm. Curious as to what he would play, I dropped by for a few minutes and listened in. Aside from a familiar song from Minor Threat, I had never heard any of what Fantano played on that show before. And none of it really seemed to grab me. With the exception of one deceptively, insanely catchy song that is the epitome of an ear worm.
This song, with its unbelievable combination of electronica, banjo, strings, gypsy rock, and Frank Black-esque vocals, stuck with me for a long, long time. It was my go-to song when bored and unable to find a song. It became a musical drug unlike any other, the urge to return to it so strong I couldn't resist its charms for more than a day. And, more than anything else, it became a musical quandary unlike any other.
I believe that, if you try hard enough, you can categorize any music into genres. This isn't necessarily a good thing (lumping multiple things that only vaguely sounds like each other into the same field, yada yada), but it helps those lost in the myriad of music available at one's fingertips. Here, however, was the first time I've been unable to come up with a genre that even remotely describes that song above. The group's Wikipedia page described them as "avant-garde," but avant-garde music isn't this... catchy. Or this compulsively danceable.
It eventually drove me so obsessively insane that I had no choice but to seek out the full album. And, may I say, that "avant-garde" label certainly fits UFO as a whole.
The opening track, Giggle Bush Meets CompUSA, is a clear indicator of what you're getting yourself into: what begins as a simple melody devolves into a series of crazy bleeps and bloops that is too sudden to even call jarring. It's jagged in every sense of the word, but funny for how long it ends up going on. But, then, we get one of the most compelling tracks of the album, Hot Shot. After a squawky start, there's an incredibly simple yet delirious banjo(?) part that acts as the song's central melody. And, if you didn't realize from the previous track that the group has a crazy sense of humor, the track here fades before the melody is hilariously shouted at the top of the vocalist's lungs and the instrumentation lankily comes back into play. Suffice it to say, it's one of the more cohesive and noteworthy tracks on the album.
Since there are 23 songs on this album and many of them never evolve past simple ideas, I'll touch on the ones worth mentioning instead of doing my typical track-by-track business.
Let's start with the good. The main "single"(?) of the album is Beach, a ridiculous, parodical anthem for the oft-implemented setting in the same vein as America, Fuck Yeah (despite being released a year before that song, with the ubiquity of the latter, the comparison is inevitable). No, really.
That list towards the middle of the song should set off some bells of familiarity in those of you who have heard America, Fuck Yeah. The fact that it concludes with "Race wars/I'm hanging out/The youth will rule/O.D./Totally/Awesome" should tip off anyone who hasn't spotted that by this point. Also, I will forever be compelled to randomly yell out "Robfish!" whenever anyone ever mentions a pufferfish ever again.
Red as a Bone is completely uninteresting musically, but notable for its droning recitation of a list that goes on for nearly four minutes, essentially a musical representation of the cake sphere from Portal. So, why is this mentioned in the "good" section of the review? Merely for the last 30 seconds, which shrugs off the length of the song in an overacted manner. Ox also sounds boring on paper; it's a single running melody that continually stops and starts back up again, but, for whatever reason, works and never gets boring. Perhaps it's due to the progressing instrumentation that overlays it approximately halfway into the track (something that the horribly dull two-minute-long I Know lacks).
Pow Pow gets by mostly on sheer diversity and its odd combination of elements, packing in a xylophone fill, low bass tones, a piano line and simple vocals in a minute and a half. Shark Attack is a compelling mix of hammer-ons and pull-offs and a constant "One! Two! Three!" shout that is one of the more exciting and memorable tracks. And, speaking of memorable, Pen hits the mark for its incredibly catchy chorus ("Pen, pen, pen/Where's my pen?") and darkly comedic verses about the pen's connection to the narrator's relatives (including a sick grandma and a cousin with one arm).
But, if there's one song worth mentioning over all others, it's Show Me Your Heart. If you listened to the link up above, you know why this song caught my attention and urged me to listen to the whole album. Its hybrid approach to numerous styles, humorous lyrics, memorable vocals, and overall completeness (more so than practically every other song on the album) is a near-perfect array of obtuseness. And, if the rest of the album was as fleshed out as this song, perhaps I'd like it more than I do.
This is due to the fact that, as you may have guessed from my description of the album, so many songs (if you can call them that) simply exist as brief ideas or interludes and are never fleshed out beyond their simplest concepts. This would be fine if they served simply as bridges between two fully developed songs, but, more often than not, they just lead into yet another bizarre yet brief track. After a while, the constant detours into acoustic ballads (Moondear), piano stings (Make Gay Love Not War, Coffee Shop Girl, Pt. 2), banjo music (Magic Finger), radio parodies (Dr. Spliffin's Food Drive), and feedback (Apple Snake) make the relief of a full-fledged, honest-to-God song that much more worthwhile. These diversions then cease to be amusing or interesting, instead dragging out the album beyond it's necessary threshold of tolerability. I know that this album was made with a "kitchen sink" mentality, but sometimes less is more and the fat needs to be trimmed.
Which brings me to the album's lowest point, only four tracks in. Popfest is banality incarnate: a simple bass line, a single line of lyrics, and random distortion for nearly three minutes before the distortion grows without becoming any more immediate or frantic. It meanders, it lingers, and makes me pine for the dull yet brief oddities that pepper the rest of the album.
Unlike the opening track, which has the element of surprise in its favor, closing song Turns Pillars Into Trees is a disappointing slinky bass line that just suddenly ends. And that's it. That's the end of the album.
"Frustrated" is the best way to describe my reaction to UFO. Based on my initial love of Show Me Your Heart and how much I enjoy the tracks that I ended up liking, I wanted, and was, in fact, quite ready to embrace the weirdness I was prepared to hear. What disappointed me was how boring most of it ended up sounding. Even after only one listen through, I found myself more compelled to revisit individual songs rather than the album as a whole, which speaks negatively to the album's overall smooth flow. Yet, if there's one thing I can take away from this album, it's that it certainly traversed the a wide range, in its genres and styles definitely, but more prominently in quality, from the excellent to the dull to (more often than anything else) the mediocre.
Best Songs: Show Me Your Heart, Hot Shot, Beach
Worst Songs: Popfest, Turn Pillars Into Trees, I Know
If there's one genre of music I really want to get into more than I already have, it's hardcore punk. Maybe it's just because, so far, I've listened to all the right stuff (Bad Brains, Minor Threat, etc.), but what I've heard is enough to convince me on the entirety of the genre. Thus, a random article on Kotaku became a blessing in disguise when it allowed me to discover an awesome contemporary addition to the genre. (The article mentioned the cover, reminiscent of an old-school video game cover and its extravagant physical packaging, but mentioned little to nothing about the album itself.)
Ghidoragh, if my understanding of the group is correct, is a hardcore punk outfit from New Zealand. I've been unable to find out how long they've been around, but perhaps the only existing YouTube video I could find seems to date them back to 1999. And it claims to be a reunion show. I honestly have no idea when the group got started (I doubt it's the same group, because some of the band's official pages call this EP their debut) but, no matter if this is their first effort or their thirtieth, one thing's certain: this EP kicks all kinds of ass.
The first thing that has to be noted is the length of this thing. Staying true to their roots, Threat Level Ultra clocks in at just under nine minutes over the course of eight tracks. No track is longer than a minute and a half, and I'll be damned if the group doesn't pack in some serious punch in record time.
The first track demonstrates exactly what this group is going for: Fledgling Industry is a light-hearted, parodical perspective into the business world with the driving line of "One hundred million dollars/One hundred million dollars/Business, business." There's a lot to get psyched for in this 48-second track, and as it seamlessly segues into First Contact, we get an even catchier line that jumps from 15 to 16 to 18 to 20 to 30 to 40 to 50 to 1000. (I can't quite make out what comes after each of the numbers, but it doesn't make it any less noteworthy.) For all of the hardcore punk I've listened too, very little of it has been enough to make me hum it nonchalantly during mundane activities (with the exception of Sailin' Onby Bad Brains). Not only does this rock, but it's surprisingly compulsively listenable.
Suncrash offers the first of many retro-inspired audio clips, this one appearing from what sounds like a sci-fi film, as well as more of the same in terms of music. Bonus Level is a neat little lo-fi epilogue to this song taken from what sounds like either live footage or a raw recording of rehearsal footage.
Goop on the Perimeter has one of the most bafflingly funny audio clips from what sounds like an old PC game with a voiceover that sounds like John Cleese, culminating with the line "Now... masturbate!" The album's sole instrumental, it starts fast-paced like it's predecessors before coming down into a sludgy stomp that is hypnotically intoxicating.
Spiders is another light-hearted, fast 'n' heavy romp that plays like a punk version of something from Need New Body. It's a fun little non-sequitur of a song with lines like "Spiders, spiders everywhere/Spiders, spiders in my hair." And it ends with yet another cool audio clip, this one coming from what sounds like an old grindhouse movie trailer.
Threat Level Ultra is probably the most epic track on the EP, beginning with a siren wail before a slow opening and going through several progressions too numerous to note in writing before ending as soon as it began. It never repeats, never becomes dull, and is continuously interesting. It's an awe-inspiring track simply in its nature and really shows off the group's potential better than any other.
Dirt Dicks (yes, that's the actual name of the track) begins in one of the most oddly fitting ways I've ever heard a song start; it opens with an audio clip of Bill Cosby explaining an experience he had drumming with Sonny Stitt before effortlessly working in a count-in to the actual song. And it works. Flawlessly. The song itself fits the typical hardcore punk vibe more than the rest of the EP, working in nihilism and pure unfiltered energy (as opposed to previous songs about business, contact with aliens, militarism, and space) before ending with more of what we've come to expect: the climactic ending audio clip from the game The Chaos Engine.
As much as I've enjoyed writing this review for this short but sweet taste of the band's output, it really can't compare to hearing the actual thing. So, regardless of if you're a fan of hardcore punk or new to the genre, take a listen to the EP over on the group's Bandcamp page (linked below). Best of all, if, like me, you really enjoy this collection of music, you can download it at a price of your own choosing. I'd really like to see more from this group, so any bit of contribution helps. I really dug this small taste of what Ghidoragh can offer and definitely look forward to whatever they put out next.
Best Songs: Threat Level Ultra, Fledgling Industry, First Contact
Worst Songs: It's a 9 minute, 8 track EP. Does it fucking matter if there's anything worth being called "worst"? (Not that anything on here even comes close deserves that label.)
As someone who professes to be a critic, it's commonplace assumption that this means you need to find something to criticize in everything. I'll admit, this has been true for most of the stuff I've reviewed since I've never claimed anything to be "perfect," but...
GOD. DAMN. This album. I mean, it's not necessarily perfect, but it was certainly the best experience I had listening to music this year, in the last few years, and possibly one of the best of all time. I've already been hyping the hell out of this album internally and externally, put out two videos about it in anticipation, and probably drove off a few of my so-called "friends" on Facebook posting about this, but it somehow met and exceeded all of my expectations. A music nerd needs to be able to obsessively geek out over something every now and then, and that now and then is right now.
...Like Clockwork did the impossible: take a band I merely had a passing interest in due to one fantastic album and turned them into bona fide rockstars. Songs for the Deafwas the quintessential rock album of the last decade and, as of right now, ...Like Clockwork is the standout of the genre for this decade. Every song is fleshed out and with a sound of its own (not unlike Deaf), but unlike that past entry, every song seems to have its own emotional core. Sure, Six Shooter was a funny little throwaway song, but it didn't have the melancholic breakdown of album opener Keep Your Eyes Peeled, wherein the album's nastiest song turns into a lament on fading optimism. Right off the bat, you can tell that ...Like Clockwork is going for something special and of its own, unlike anything that Queens of the Stone Age has done before. Many have attributed this to frontman Josh Homme's near-death experience following knee surgery, and there's a certain mortality in his lyrics that rock music hasn't touched upon since Bruce Springsteen's The Rising.
By now, it sounds like I'm laying the praises on heavily, but an album that can rock as hard as this and holds so many more layers than its peers deserves to be made an example of. The melancholy is brought to the forefront with I Sat By The Ocean, a title that conjures weariness and pausing as the world passes you by. The guitar riff here is foregrounded, but in a muted, expressive manner that allows for a line comparing the speaker and the subject to "passing ships in the night" to evolve into "crashing ships in the night." Something that could merely be a subtle shift instead ends up a literal wreck. When was the last time you heard something like this in rock music?
Just when the album looks to be settling into a groove, though, it ramps things up in terms of both quality and content. Even with an opening song that details the view from Hell, when the first words out of Homme's mouth are "I want God to come and take me home," you're in for an entirely different beast. Thus, The Vampyre Of Time And Memory marks the turning point of the album. Though it lacks the intensity of the two previous tracks, the melancholy and emotion overwhelms to the point of sensory overload. It sinks in that this is what the album is going for, this is the type of album Homme intended to make, especially with the title track following in its footsteps at the album's conclusion.
The streak of great songs continues with If I Had A Tail, wherein Homme rattles off some of the album's best lyrics about the state of the world and his own being. What the meaning behind the song lacks, the excellent instrumentation and clever writing makes up for, giving the tune its own sense of sheer funk rock bravado. My God Is The Sun follows suit and wins simply for being an exciting, exhilarating rock song. (My God, when was the last time we had one of those?) Even with some jarringly out-of-place lyrics ("I don't know what time it was/I don't wear a watch," comedic drum effect optional), the song never lets up and succeeds merely on the steam on which it runs.
And then there's Kalopsia. What starts off as slow introspection turns into a schizophrenic back-and-forth between Homme and guest vocalist Trent Reznor before the unhinged come-down. Mixing equal parts Bowie-era glam rock and some of the heaviest power chords on the album, the duality of the song works in tandem with excellent lyrics such as "forget the rat in the race, we'll choke-chain them all."
Fairweather Friends works in a similar duality, tying a hard rock sensibility that most of the album has going for it with a driving piano riff led by Elton John. It's one of the more fun tracks on the album (even with the pessimistic lyrics) and is elevated by an ending so unexpected that it had me laughing purely from shock value.
It makes sense then that Smooth Sailing should follow this song, as it continues that "couldn't care less" attitude from Fairweather Friends with a cocky stride unrivaled (expertly mirroring the title). Again, the lyricism here is top-notch; where else are you going to find the line "I will blow my load over the status quo?"
What follows is what could easily be called the album's centerpiece: the epic, moody I Appear Missing. I've already talked in length about what makes this song so special, but, to add to the absolutely brilliant, striking lyrics that run throughout this thing, the second half of the song, which results in one of the most cathartic musical conclusions in recent memory, is interminably stunning. One could write essays about the depth of the lyrics, the marvelous instrumentation, or the fascinating structure of it all, even perhaps how all three intertwine in a way most musicians wouldn't even begin to dream about. Regardless, it's by far the most alluring cut from the album.
The band closes the album in a quiet fashion, with the title track detailing nerve-wracked thoughts of the past and coming to terms with the present. The barebones piano of the song's first half is haunting, allowing for reflection of all things that passed, before the most muted instrumental backing on the album comes in. Given the mood of the rest of the album, lyrically and instrumentally, it's somewhat fitting that ...Like Clockwork ends in a state of melancholic understatement rather than a show-stopping finale.
This album is a rarity in music. Every track has something worth talking about, greater depth and more nuanced instrumentation than most music currently out there. The band gives the album its all (especially the drums, which add a crucial layer to every song and serve as the backbone to the stellar lyrics and blistering guitar riffs). It's been a while since I've found something to like in every moment of an album; there's not a wasted moment, not a single expendable piece. I'm simply amazed that an album like this can simultaneously satisfy visceral rock urges and analytical tendencies, and, more importantly, simply exist.
(Author's Note: This late review is due to me ordering the Deluxe Double LP of the album, which suffered some delays. However, it was definitely worth the wait. The vinyl was in excellent condition, as to be expected, but the real winner of this packaging is the 20-page art booklet built into the package. The absolutely gorgeous artwork from Boneface coupled with complete lyric sheets makes this a must-own for those who want the complete package. Hands-down: this is one of the greatest vinyl packagings I've ever seen as a record collector.)
Best Songs: I Appear Missing, My God Is The Sun, The Vampyre Of Time And Memory
Worst Songs: For just once, would anyone be upset if I put nothing here? I really can't justify calling anything on this album "worst."
