BETAMAXNOMATES
'All she can do is dial and yell...'20060704
PROBABLY MORE LIKE WHORING AROUND
Yeah, so remember all that stuff I said about posting more, writing about things, you know, 'serious' entries eschewing your typical 'I'm soooo random - MONKEY RAPE! - LoL' shibboleth.... Yeah, well it turns out that was a lie. Sorry about that. But, on the bright side, it did give me an excuse to use the word 'shibboleth'. And what a great word it is - sounds like a gnarled stick a Russian woman might beat a goat with. Anyway, what to talk about? What to give to you - the discerning reader - that you haven't already read on someone else's MySpaz a thousand times already? I know: movie reviews! And then maybe some music recommendations! Perfect.
An unusual, and understandably uncelebrated, aspect of my job involves me going to see very bad movies on a semi-regular basis. In the past month alone I've taken in Curious George (confusing), Over The Hedge ('is it just me or this film very, VERY LOUD?'), RV (unspeakable - honestly, words fail to describe the sheer awfulness of this one), and, just yesterday, The Lake House. Now, I don't know if you've been contemplating seeing this - maybe you're one of the few that've been waiting in breathless anticipation for that old Reeves-Bullock chemistry to ignite the screen once more, I don't know - but I implore you to avoid it like the pox. Realistically, I didn't actually expect The Lake House to be any good - still, that didn't stop me leaving the cinema utterly baffled as to how a film of such towering, colassal suckitude ever made it into production. With a lot of bad movies you can kind of see that, perhaps - on paper - there was a kernel of a good idea there that, over time, got buried in a landslide of shoddy scripting, hamfisted direction, Robin Williams, and sixty gallons of liquid faeces (if you've seen RV, you'll understand... oh, how you'll understand...). But with The Lake House it's hard to see where, or when, at any point this seemed like a good idea: Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves fall in love but - whoops! - turns out they're living two years apart. In what (parallel) universe does that sound like a good movie? Hey, maybe that's the point. Maybe this is a movie posted from another dimension across some temporal roadblock and crammed into our cinematic mailslot by ghostly figures from another time (namely, 1994). If that's the case, mark this one 'return to sender'. Zing! With a dry cool wit like that I could be... urgh, Alex Zane probably.
A slightly better movie out at the moment is 36. Not much to say about this one really. It's French but is, unusually, unencumbered by any lengthy scenes of joyless mechanical sex filmed through venetian blinds. Obviously Gerard Deperdjeeiu is in it (as is that other guy, Daniel Autieouil, who's in everthing) but it's more like an extended episode of The Shield - only with funny accents. Which is cool. And it's got the chick from Hot Shots. Which is also cool. And the obligitary heavy-handed 'symbolic' ending. Which is not so cool, but hey, beggars can't be choosers. (Now, if I really was Alex Zane I'd probably flap my hands about and in my best 'ho-ho ironic' voice make some lazy crack about homeless people or Big Issue sellers there but I'm better than that, goddamnit. Though the fact that I even considered it in the first place doesn't exactly help my case).
Anyway, crashing on, you may have noticed that I've embedded one of those new-fangled music guage/counter thingys on the sidebar (that's presuming it is on the side: I coded this site by hand and haven't tested it in any other browsers yet so there's a good chance it may be upside-down and somewhere towards the left. Either way, it's stupid and annoying and painfully slow to refresh itself (I mean it keeps telling me that my 'most listened to' artist is The Diableros but they're, like, sooo last week, I hardly listen to them at all now). What I have been listening to rather a lot is Ride - a bunch of shoegaze also-ran's whose lead singer now plays guitar for Oasis: go figure - and their album Nowhere, a hazy slice of British psychedelia perfectly encapsulating that heady summer of 1991. Of course I was too young to be listening to Ride at the time - back then, the extent of my musical knowledge was that all cows ate grass, Prince had two of his ribs removed so he could suck his own willy, and that multi-ethnic techno-popsters 2 Unlimited died in a plane crash last week - at least according to my best friend's neighbour's girlfriend's mentally subnormal cousin Brian.
Further, I suggest you 'celebrate' the 'entire catalogue' (TM Office Space) of Soft Cell (so much more than 'Tainted Love'), the new Hot Chip album, and the mighty Gil Scott-Heron. And I quite like the new Christina Aguilera song though I've seen the making-the-video special so many times I feel like I fucking directed the thing. It's possible I did, in between my time being Alex Zane. And speaking of him, why not gorge yourself on a selection of vintage Popworld clips on YouTube (this being my personal favourite) before Cap'n Zane(y) and the dead-eyed, learned-English-from-phonetics Female Presenter came along and cocked it all up.
An unusual, and understandably uncelebrated, aspect of my job involves me going to see very bad movies on a semi-regular basis. In the past month alone I've taken in Curious George (confusing), Over The Hedge ('is it just me or this film very, VERY LOUD?'), RV (unspeakable - honestly, words fail to describe the sheer awfulness of this one), and, just yesterday, The Lake House. Now, I don't know if you've been contemplating seeing this - maybe you're one of the few that've been waiting in breathless anticipation for that old Reeves-Bullock chemistry to ignite the screen once more, I don't know - but I implore you to avoid it like the pox. Realistically, I didn't actually expect The Lake House to be any good - still, that didn't stop me leaving the cinema utterly baffled as to how a film of such towering, colassal suckitude ever made it into production. With a lot of bad movies you can kind of see that, perhaps - on paper - there was a kernel of a good idea there that, over time, got buried in a landslide of shoddy scripting, hamfisted direction, Robin Williams, and sixty gallons of liquid faeces (if you've seen RV, you'll understand... oh, how you'll understand...). But with The Lake House it's hard to see where, or when, at any point this seemed like a good idea: Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves fall in love but - whoops! - turns out they're living two years apart. In what (parallel) universe does that sound like a good movie? Hey, maybe that's the point. Maybe this is a movie posted from another dimension across some temporal roadblock and crammed into our cinematic mailslot by ghostly figures from another time (namely, 1994). If that's the case, mark this one 'return to sender'. Zing! With a dry cool wit like that I could be... urgh, Alex Zane probably.
A slightly better movie out at the moment is 36. Not much to say about this one really. It's French but is, unusually, unencumbered by any lengthy scenes of joyless mechanical sex filmed through venetian blinds. Obviously Gerard Deperdjeeiu is in it (as is that other guy, Daniel Autieouil, who's in everthing) but it's more like an extended episode of The Shield - only with funny accents. Which is cool. And it's got the chick from Hot Shots. Which is also cool. And the obligitary heavy-handed 'symbolic' ending. Which is not so cool, but hey, beggars can't be choosers. (Now, if I really was Alex Zane I'd probably flap my hands about and in my best 'ho-ho ironic' voice make some lazy crack about homeless people or Big Issue sellers there but I'm better than that, goddamnit. Though the fact that I even considered it in the first place doesn't exactly help my case).
Anyway, crashing on, you may have noticed that I've embedded one of those new-fangled music guage/counter thingys on the sidebar (that's presuming it is on the side: I coded this site by hand and haven't tested it in any other browsers yet so there's a good chance it may be upside-down and somewhere towards the left. Either way, it's stupid and annoying and painfully slow to refresh itself (I mean it keeps telling me that my 'most listened to' artist is The Diableros but they're, like, sooo last week, I hardly listen to them at all now). What I have been listening to rather a lot is Ride - a bunch of shoegaze also-ran's whose lead singer now plays guitar for Oasis: go figure - and their album Nowhere, a hazy slice of British psychedelia perfectly encapsulating that heady summer of 1991. Of course I was too young to be listening to Ride at the time - back then, the extent of my musical knowledge was that all cows ate grass, Prince had two of his ribs removed so he could suck his own willy, and that multi-ethnic techno-popsters 2 Unlimited died in a plane crash last week - at least according to my best friend's neighbour's girlfriend's mentally subnormal cousin Brian.
Further, I suggest you 'celebrate' the 'entire catalogue' (TM Office Space) of Soft Cell (so much more than 'Tainted Love'), the new Hot Chip album, and the mighty Gil Scott-Heron. And I quite like the new Christina Aguilera song though I've seen the making-the-video special so many times I feel like I fucking directed the thing. It's possible I did, in between my time being Alex Zane. And speaking of him, why not gorge yourself on a selection of vintage Popworld clips on YouTube (this being my personal favourite) before Cap'n Zane(y) and the dead-eyed, learned-English-from-phonetics Female Presenter came along and cocked it all up.
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What did the clients think of the films by the way?
I saw Alex Zane once present a terrible student night here in London. His whole set consisted of "I'm Jewish and gay" and that bloke off popworld, again terrible night.
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I saw Alex Zane once present a terrible student night here in London. His whole set consisted of "I'm Jewish and gay" and that bloke off popworld, again terrible night.
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