Band: Part Chimp
Album: I Am Come
Best song: The title track is perfect.
Worst song: It’s only five songs and all are great.
While working earlier this week, I found myself in a Wikipedia loop. You know, one of those things where you look something up on Wikipedia, end up clicking on of the site’s many interesting internal links and just keep clicking. It never ends. Wikipedia is nearly endless in its amount of interesting articles. I am a firm believer in the genius of Wikipedia.
Band: Uzeda
Album: Stella
Best song: “What I Meant When I Called Your Name” is amazing. “Wail” has an unstoppable riff.
Worst song: “Camillo” is just OK.
By the time you read this, I will be in Sicily, the province in Italy that is the historical home of my family. My father’s family hails from a town called Caccamo, about 40 km from Palermo, the capitol and largest city of the island (the city where I’ll be staying during my weeklong visit).
This is my second trip to Italy. I visited Rome in December 2006 and it was the best trip I think I’ve ever taken. Not only did I feel a sense of awe at the Roman ruins and the history of the city, but I also felt a certain connection to the city through my own Italian heritage. It doesn’t really make much sense, but it’s a similar feeling I got at Monticello or at the various sites around here in DC. They’re meaningful, on some weird metaphysical level.
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I sort of feel a bit of guilt in not having much interest in my maternal heritage. I think some of that is because we don’t have the surefire knowledge that I do with my dad’s side. The nature of European Jewry (well, at least my impression of it) is such that Jews were shuffled around a lot, thanks to some unpleasant government treatment. I’ve heard enough stories of the Cossacks sacking my ancestors’ village after they’d moved to Lithuania, post-inquisition. That’s all I really know about that side of my family; at one point, they were from Spain, then they ended up in Eastern Europe.
Which isn’t to say that my Jewish heritage is of no import to me. That’s insane. I wear a Star of David and am wearing one today, even as I traipse through an Italian island. I would like to go to Israel and learn more about the way way way back historical roots of my non-religion (I’m an atheist, though Judaism is the religion in which I was raised), though I usually say so under the guise that I like old stuff.
(Well, it’s not a total guise. Despite not being anything close to Christian, I do want to see all the Christ stuff in the former Judea.)
But, it didn’t work out that way. Israel is more expensive than Europe and, quite frankly, more dangerous. It’s my next non-Italy trip, no doubt. But, cost just didn’t work out this time. Too bad.
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I don’t speak much Italian, which will be a barrier in Sicily, where the 30% unemployment rate, Mafia rule and isolation have seemed to make the people a bit xenophobic. Italy itself is kind of racist and xenophobic — a recent Repubblicca poll found that over 40% of young Italians “don’t trust foreigners.”
I’m writing this before I leave, but my plan is to try and apologize as much as possible for my bad Italian, ask people to speak slowly and, generally, not talk to many people. I’ve been e-mailing with my hotel (in butchered Italian, certainly) a few questions and they’ve been super helpful. Of course, I’m paying those folks when I stay with them, so they probably are forced to be nice. After all, they’re in the hospitality industry.
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Italian popular music isn’t all that great. It’s a lovely language, but there’s not a ton of music that strikes one’s fancy. Tre Allegri Ragazzi Morti isn’t a bad punk band, though they’re mostly a gimmick. I mean, they wear skull masks.
Enter Uzeda. Named after one of the gates to the town of Catania — the Sicilian city in the shadows of the Mount Etna — the band’s third album was produ– er, engineered by iconoclast Steve Albini.
The record is decidedly math-rock-y and has Albini’s stench all over it. The bass occupies a huge space, while the guitar screech in the manner of all things Albini, tearing your ears. Giovanna Cacciola’s shout/sing vocals — in English, by the way — sound something like the combination of Made out of Babies’ Julie Christmas and Bjork.
It’s a fine album, with the swirling guitars of “This Heat” backing up Cacciola screaming “I’m a liar!” in the midst of a steady bass line. “Wailing” does just that, with an opening guitar wank straight out of the Big Black handbook. “Steam, Rain & Other Stuff” has an amazing guitar riff, while “Gold” is furied.
The guitar work is intricate, but not in a post-rock way. Like Albini’s bands, Uzeda takes more from the Jesus Lizard than from, like, Yes. So, the guitar is more of a buzzsaw than a scalpel. I love this kind of music and am glad it comes from my family’s historical home, even if Catania is on the other side of the island.
Band: God is an Astronaut
Album: A Moment of Stillness
Best song: The title track is perfect.
Worst song: It’s only five songs and all are great.
I’m not sure where to start or not to start here, other to acknowledge that I’m not much in the way of a writer, so whenever I actually deal with an editor on something I care about, I am reminded that I am not an editor. I sometimes fall in love with my own wording on stuff — in my job, I don’t do much writing, outside of some headlines and such — but because I write the way I talk, I get annoyed when an editor wants to change a non-hard news thing to something other than my original idea. Which, really, is just pompous. We’ll do it more straightforward, Ross. Your pith is not needed here.
Which is to say that I’m so so so grateful for the Internet and the ability to work through my own Web sites to write stupid reviews no one wants to read. Even though, really, I don’t have much to say, especially about records that are of little to no consequence.
That’s where A Moment of Stillness exists. It’s an EP from four years ago. From an Irish band most people don’t know. That I bought because it was recommended to me on Amazon and I had a gift certificate (I, like you, hadn’t heard of the band and thought they have a good band name). The Irish group isn’t a band I pursued after my love of this EP. I liked it. I listen to it. I don’t want more. I don’t know why.
This doesn’t often happen to me. I’m the kind of person who owns every Pink Floyd record, even the crappy, post-Gilmour ones. I have everything Death Cab for Cutie has ever released, including a dumbass split EP they did with the shitty indie band Fiver. I bought the fucking Shrimp Boat box set, people.
I think I realized that I don’t want to sully the great band with the awesome name. Maybe it’s because A Moment of Stillness isn’t superlative — post-rock often doesn’t rouse exciting feelings in people. I sorta feel the same way about Russian Circles and This Will Destroy You, good post-rock bands that I enjoy but don’t pursue.
Nevertheless, the title track from this five-song EP is sublimely good. It’s a near perfect post-rock song, as it tilts upward with an intricate guitar line, no vocals and a slow build. While I haven’t bought every record, I can wholeheartedly say that “A Moment of Stillness” is one of my favorite songs.
Band: Trans Am
Album: Sex Change
Best song: “Tesco v. Sainsbury’s” is amazing and a snapshot of what Trans Am does best.
Worst song: “4,738 Regrets” isn’t great.
I’m a passionate, passionate man and, recently, two of passions have collided to major press. Roger Ebert is one of my favorite writers in the world and Esquire is the best written magazine in the world. Will Leitch and Drew Magary — both writers I enjoy and admire — have weighed in and I’ve decided to do the same in my own little album-centric hole in the Internet. Ebert is appearing this week on ex-girlfriend-turned-close-friend (and, by the way, one of the most powerful women in the world) Oprah Winfrey’s TV show and, of course, if you haven’t read the Esquire piece, open this link now. NOW.
When you ask a friend if Hellboy is any good, you’re not asking if it’s any good compared to Mystic River, you’re asking if it’s any good compared to The Punisher. And my answer would be, on a scale of one to four, if Superman is four, then Hellboy is three and The Punisher is two. In the same way, if American Beauty gets four stars, then [The United States of Leland] clocks in at about two.
I love love love that rationale. Though I’ve never pursued writing as a career (and, as such, have never had to do any dopey star systems), I try to reflect that in my writing. I don’t care for pop music as much as I like most metal, but if you like pop music, Britney Spears hits the spot. I hope to emulate Ebert in that way, in my writing.
But Schneider is correct, and Patrick Goldstein has not yet won a Pulitzer Prize. Therefore, Goldstein is not qualified to complain that Columbia financed “Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo” while passing on the opportunity to participate in “Million Dollar Baby,” “Ray,” “The Aviator,” “Sideways” and “Finding Neverland.” As chance would have it, I have won the Pulitzer Prize, and so I am qualified. Speaking in my official capacity as a Pulitzer Prize winner, Mr. Schneider, your movie sucks.
Schneider and Ebert have since made up, but Ebert still pulls no punches. He continues to see movies and he writes and writes and writes.