Archive for June, 2010

80’s songs to eat Whataburger to…

This isn’t Minute Maid Park or Landshark Stadium. It’s not Jim Whacker Field or the Astrodome. No, it’s a place of luxury. A place where taste and class are spun together with the purity of sports and the whim of imagination. It’s a place, for some,  holier than the Vatican and more magical than Idaho… it’s Whataburger Field, home to the Corpus Christi Hooks.

Foul as it may be, Corpus Christi – the sparkling city by the sea did give Texas one of it’s finest burger joints. It seems only right that, in choosing a minor league club to sponsor, Whataburger  would look no further than it’s own back yard.With all respect to confidentiality I know at least one person who would give a testicle/ovary for a lifetime’s box seat and free Whataburger voucher. Dreams can come true but it’s no kind of life to be hanging around waiting on them. So if you’ve got the gas, or the bus fare or a strong hitchin’ thumb get on down to Whataburger Field and live that dream… but don’t forget your playlist…

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The Mother and the Whore (1973)

Here’s Jean Eustache’s cult classic La maman et la putain. Eustache blew himself out in 1981. You probably won’t have time to watch it all in one sitting (it’s 3:30 long) but even piece by piece it’s a masterpiece of low budget work.

PART I

PART II

RIP Touchdown Jesus

Two days ago the infamous King of Kings statue on the east side of I-75 in Monroe, Ohio was struck by lightening and destroyed. Here’s a few Son of God inspired tracks for the occasion.

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Monda Pokalo…

…that’s world cup in Esperanto but who could give two squares of two-ply about Esperanto when theres a Cup to be won? I’ll tell you who won’t be singing Kraŝ Kontraŭ Mi is native born South African Dave Matthews. He has once again side-stepped FIFA’s watch dogs to some how legally play midfield for the US team, setting aside his popular stage name for his given birth name, Landon Donovan. Yes, it’s all just so exciting – the world’s South African ascension, the collision of culture and language and, like in the movies, it’s all set to a soundtrack…

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Albums as Albums

Take a picture of yourself and what do you have?

Well, in some existential way, you have a silent explanation of everything that’s ever happened to you leading up to why you look that way at that moment – but it’s one dimensional. Now, take a few pictures of yourself. In fact, make it a photo shoot. Go sit in different places around town. Dress up. Cry and take a picture of your wet cheeks. Smile fake. Smile for real. Hold your breath. Take pictures of it all. Now, with all those pictures together you’ve got yourself an explanation, a handful of facets that play off of each other.

Later, you could do that again, but the new pictures would belong together, just like the older pictures belong together. That’s an album. Of course, some albums are more expository than others, but they all show you, from different angles, where the band is at at that moment. To really get the whole picture you’ve got to listen to the whole album. Exception: greatest hits ‘albums’ – I despise them. There’s no easier way to undermine someones life’s work, no better  method to take a song completely out of context, and no quicker scheme to cash back in on old idea. Greatest hits albums are rot. Anyways, against everything I’ve just said I’ve only posted one song from each album but here are three albums that work as albums…

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Mike Judge’s Extract

Here’s something from the working man’s writer/director for you and your dog to curl up on the couch and stare at this weekend…

EXTRACT

… and in hommage to Judge’s dialogue about fusion jazz:

Pat Metheny – Lone Jack