rangelife

I Wish the Year 2000 Were Still the Future

"Sound of silver, talk to me
Makes you want to feel like a teenager
Then you remember the feelings of
A real-life emotional teenager
Then you think again"
--LCD Soundsystem, "Sound of Silver," 2007

You ever have one of those moments of hopeless modern ennui when you wonder what the hell you were so moody about when you were a kid? I get that way whenever I read the news.

Well, WTF were we so moody about in the '90s? It was a killer decade. Is it too soon for nostalgia? For Chrissake, all I want is a Shady Lane.

***

OK, let's go back a little further. To elementary school. Reworked Atari box art.

(via Bullshit)

And... Little Brother vs. the Atari 2600

***

Finally, let's bring in the weekend with the best Canadian rap track I've heard... ever. "Fourth Biggest City" by that kid Famous. It's got a fantastic 1994-style vibe. It's the Goodfellas of Canadian rap videos. Worth repeated viewings.

Represent Toronto, Famous! Represent!

Los Angeles Negros vs. SalesGenie

These days, I'm listening to most of my music on Rhapsody, which is pretty much a non-stop pop-gasm. You want to listen to anything ever recorded? Jack in.

Yet I still find myself wandering back to Amoeba Records in the Haight every few months. Why? Because unlike an online jukebox, Amoeba still fuckin' gets it.

For example, they have a whole section of Mexican rock, pop, and hip-hop. Here's a band called the Black Angels:

Oh, if only they'd tour with Turbonegro. Hey, at least that would be less racist than SalesGenie's Super Bowl ads. Honestly, WTF was up with those? An Indian man with seven children? A Chinese panda doing a "me so solly" bit? Were they co-written by Carlos Mencia and Michael Richards? We kept waiting for one with Orthodox Jews. "Oy! No way am I paying $3,000 for 35-54 Caucasian mothers in zip code 91080! I'll give you $1,000, final offer!"

Where was I? Oh yes, Amoeba. Even in drenching rain, it was still a heartening mob scene. I picked up some Vampire Weekend, some MGMT, and some Future of the Left. Giddyap.

Time for Living: The Beastie Boys Class Up the Greek Theater

The band was more than 25 years old. The sound was totally ass. The opening act sucked beyond expectations. So by what rights could the Beastie Boys put on such a fantastic performance at UC-Berkeley's Greek Theater last Saturday night?

Bravely standing under a Calderian LCD nightmare, the B-Boys tore through their most in-demand material over a quick two hours.

In spite of their releasing an instrumental LP in June, the Boys stuck to the hits and the more popular album tracks. And they gave their punk library a workout, opening with "Time for Living" and finding space for "Tough Guy," "Heart Attack Man" and "Gratitude."

"What's the time?"

Did I mention these guys are old?

"How old are they?"

The Beastie Boys in their current and enduring form released their first single in 1984. This means that the group is significantly older than any undergraduate student on the Berkeley campus. They had already released both a groundbreaking LP (Licensed to Ill) and a literally once-in-a-lifetime one (Paul's Boutique) before any of the incoming freshman class had even been born.

"Jebus. Were there any college kids at the show?"

Not that I could see, but I don't think school's fully in yet. But to put it in perspective, if you were like me and started attending university in the early '90s, the B-Boys are to today's college kids what Pink Floyd was to us. They may not see much difference between this B-Boys tour and, say, the Rolling Stones' endless death march.

But the Stones don't have Mix Master Mike, who still must be heard to be believed.

Peanut Butter Wolf opened and disappointed the crowd dramatically. For a man with a record collection as legendary as the label he runs, this obviously pod-person replacement of PBW crawled through an awfully conventional DJ set, focusing on top-40 classic rock and '80s pop. Fortunately, as I mentioned, the sound was ass.

More thrilling pics of the night are at Flickr, snitches.

Beastie Boys w/ Peanut Butter Wolf concert review
August 25, 2007
Greek Theater, Berkeley, California, USA

Together We're Heavy: The Polyphonic Spree Assault-Hug the GAMH

Is there anything a confetti canyon can't make more enjoyable? Note to my future grandchildren: I want one at my funeral, even though by then they'll shoot plasma or gamma rays or something.

The Polyphonic Spree played at San Francisco's legendary Great American Music Hall last Tuesday. It was loud as hell. That's the best part about the Polyphonic Spree -- they're the only band in America besides Nirvana who lives up to their name.

Since their last trip through SF, the Spree have changed their look. Gone are the Godspell getups. In are uniforms stolen from a future America ruled by gay fascists. Awesome.

The new songs are a material departure from the old. Well, about as material a departure as they could accomplish while maintaining a roster the size of the Boston Red Sox.

SalesGenie Knees the American Work Ethic in the Groin

Amazon had five recommended products for me, of which two were compact discs. These compact discs were:

Dear Amazon Recommendation Engine: When I said that I felt pop culture was pushing me away, I meant that metaphorically.

But I do like me some Pablo Francisco.

***

I'm so glad that the world has finally discovered this Peyton Manning fellow. Maybe he'll get some endorsement deals now! Young talent gotta start somewhere.

***

The Super Bowl postgame show was like those four meatheads who stand behind you at a rock show and desperately try to converse more loudly than the thrash solo. You know, the kind who deserve four Pablo Francisco knees to the groin.  And as best as I can tell, this is the transcript of Shannon Sharpe's game analysis:

"A bedest by da Colse, a den da Bears dry duh get da rubbin game goin, but bu couldin bast dat Colse debense."

***

And amid the standard anthropomorphic animals, anthropomorphic animals, anthropomorphic Bud Lite drinkers, was the ad of the year, for SalesGenie.com.

Sure, the spot was wildly unpopular with viewers. They just couldn't handle uber-closer Pierce showing off his rad new wheels to the office slut ("How about a raaa-iiiide?").

(Above: Office slut.)

Pierce blows her off, then invites a harried co-worker to ditch work for some afternoon golf, then gets some praise from the Bossman. But what happens next is really special: Motley, a pitiful non-closing loser asks Pierce how he booked $3 million in sales so fast without working hard. Pierce replies:

"Motley, only fools work hard."

This ad is for all the schnooks driving their pathetic Corollas and busting their butts only not to close the deal. Break the cycle, you dumb sap. SalesGenie.com.

***

We've had a lot of fun today. If you'd like to learn more about how to get ahead in life by not working hard, check this slideshow from eWeek: How to Idle Your Way to the Top.

Tower Records, RIP

Remember how awesome Tower Records was about a dozen years ago? Located exclusively in hip downtown locations, their selections astonished those of us who bought our LPs in malls.

Now, Tower Records, which since expanded to malls, is liquidating, their inventory on universal discount. And if you want to play Medical Examiner, stop by a Tower before it closes: the reeking body will show you instant evidence about the cause of death. I stopped by the Tower in Emeryville today, and now I share three clues to Tower's demise:

1. Even with a universal 20% discount, the CDs are 40%-80% more expensive than they are on Amazon or iTunes and 75%-100% more expensive than what's in Amoeba's used racks.

2. Did I mention the Tower was located in Emeryville? It's in a strip mall with a Ross and a Pier 1.

3. While Amoeba knows from Van Halen, Tower's staff is missing certain elements to its knowledge. (Click on the pic for detail.)

Yes, many people admire Gen. Douglas MacArthur's Soldier, but Posehn's record is much funnier.

Sympathy for the Devil, Too

When the cops finally arrested Omeed Aziz Popal after his hit-n-run rampage on Tuesday, a nightmare spree of violence which killed a man in Fremont and injured 18 innocent people walking the sidewalks of SF, it was pretty clear that this guy was crackers:

Popal told one officer that he "wanted to come to San Francisco and kill people,'' and another officer that "everyone needs to be killed,'' the police reports said.

"I planned to kill those people I ran over last night  --  they needed to be killed,'' Popal said at one point.

Although the actual prosecution of these crimes will be a project for 2007, it's already kindling a too-familiar debate: When a guy's literally terrified of "the devil," is he responsible for his crimes?

It's a false dichotomy: "Is he crazy, or should he go to jail?" On the day of the SUV rampage, the cops were already positioning Popal as a cold-blooded murderer, not a mentally ill man, as if that were a black/white distinction:

A source close to the investigation in San Francisco, however, said Popal showed no signs of mental illness or remorse in his initial interviews with authorities. Popal reportedly told police that he had run down pedestrians "because he just wanted to."

But a psycho can't just be a psycho these days, especially when he's a Muslim. The more obsessive Righties are, as usual, excoriating the treasonous MSM for not treating the SUV rampage as jihad because, among his insane ramblings, Popal called himself a "terrorist." Also, all Muslims who commit murder are terrorists. How do we know? Because the MSM doesn't say so.

How else do we know that Popal is a disciple of Osama? Because, apparently, Pac Heights is a predominately Jewish neighborhood. Don't be fooled by all those blondes, Asians, and churches. Thank Jesus that "Right-Wing Rebel" is here to give us an SF geography lesson.

I do not want to jump to any conclusions but let us see what we have here one man in custody whose name is Omeed Aziz Popal, now I could be wrong but that name does sound like a Middle Eastern name and not all, but the great majority of people from the Mideast are of the Islamic faith. Secondly, these heinous attacks occurred in a predominately Jewish community.

Anyway, Popal is crazy and he should be punished, just like Tim McVeigh and lots of other nutbags in prison. Or did I just blow your mind?

***

Following up on yesterday's post, here's some more incontrovertible evidence that Amoeba "gets" how to satisfy music shoppers in the digital age: their high-margin plan to keep selling the same obscure CD multiple times via "rental." Buy a CD, rip it to your PC or MP3 player, sell it back within a week for 75% of your purchase price. Brilliant! (Is there a Netflix model here?) Big ups to SFist's indispensible "We Read the Weeklies" feature for the tip.

***

Also in Music:

The Best Rappers with Speech Impediments. Not the rappers with the best speech impediments. When does that Motormouth collaboration with Lou Holtz drop?

Rap lyrics translated into 9th-grade English (via Null)

***

Have a lovely Labor Day. Cal is currently a 2-point favorite over Tennessee. Sounds like a good bet.

Sympathy for the Record Industry

People say that the CD business is threatened by piracy and iTunes. But don't tell that to the diggers, liner notes junkies, and people who want to listen to their music on more than two devices. Cuz they're in the Upper Haight, shoulder-to-tit at Amoeba every Sunday.

Yeah, Tower is almost out of business. Good riddance to that bullshit. If you want to play $18 for the new Elton John, you have no shortage of options. Plus, aren't there more creative ways of announcing to the world, "I have given up on life"?

Why do the snobbish hipster elite shop at Amoeba? Because Amoeba fuckin' gets it.

And this Sunday, with the Bay Bridge shut down and most of the drug-buying population frontin' in the Nevada desert, you might even have room to breathe.

***

Other stuff to digest:

1115: A Victory Lap for Broken Promises : Justifiable anger as Bush parades around NOLA.

Wizbang: Katrina saved 50,000 lives

Tang: A Love Story

Dead-Frog: Behind the scenes of a behind-the-scenes show about sketch comedy, an actress playing a sketch actress who stars in a show within the show within the show is pushed aside for another actress. I recommend Clorox wipes for cleaning your brain off your wall.

You Think You're Radical: The Flaming Lips Lay Berkeley to Waste

Wayne Coyne of the Flaming Lips was not helped inside a giant transparent balloon by a roady dressed as Captain America. He did not walk out on top of the crowd inside said balloon.

No, Wayne Coyne descended gently from Berkeley's toasty Saturday evening sky in a Space Bubble.

For those who have yet to experience a Flaming Lips show, describing it as a "concert" is a crime against our language. A Flaming Lips show is more like a third-grade birthday party, one where most of the kids are smoking dope and the entertainment features a giant movie screen with a topless girl dancing like she's auditioning for a kung fu movie.

We're talking about confetti cannons, a dozen or so Santas Clause, girls pulled from the audience and dressed as Martians, a visual cacophony of gigantic orange balloons, and joyous yet earnest songs about the thrills of living...

When it's over, you might feel like some mad psychiatrist injected 10 CCs of dopamine directly into your head. Suddenly, the war in the Middle East, our dipshit president, and this East Coast-style heat wave seem petty and distant. Yay, love!

Some more life-changing pics of the show are at Flickr.

The Worst Album Covers of All Time

From Sweet Pete Maher: a PDF of the worst album covers ever. Worth multiple viewings.

This one really made me simultaneously gleeful and depressed... gleepressed. Click to make it big.