Monday 03.08.2010 | 8:23 PM EST

And the Winners Are: Surprise!

So at least this year’s Oscars were not quite as predictable as they can be. Many of the choices defied cynical attitudes towards the Academy. Which is not to say that all their choices this year made any fucking sense–but at least it wasn’t boring. There certainly were more head-scratching, cringe-inducing moments this year than any ceremony I can recently recall. And some welcome firsts transpired as the first woman won the Best Director award while Jeff Bridges finally got his due, Dude. //More

Sunday 03.07.2010 | 7:23 PM EST

Pros & Cons: Countdown to Oscar

There are so many reasons to hate the Oscars. It’s prom night for the celebrity set. It’s tediously long. It’s indulgent acceptance speeches. It’s lame hosts reaching for laughs and falling flat (John Stewart and Billy Crystal gleefully exempted). It’s often a reward for middling achievements in popular filmmaking. And more often than not, each year the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts & Sciences consistently disappoints discerning audiences in choosing the best picture of the year. But…

I still find myself drawn to them–particularly in the last few years, when some truly remarkable films and performances have made the dubious Oscar grade. George Clooney and David Straithern in Good Night, and Good Luck; Tilda Swinton and George Clooney in Michael Clayton. Cate Blanchett as Bob Dylan.Roger Deakins double nomination for Best Cinematography for different films in the same year (No Country for Old Men and The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford).

Then there’s the few unscripted award night moments that break through the artifice to reveal something genuine: Glen Hansard’s  inspiringly modest acceptance speech for Best Original Song followed by John Stewart’s decisive, utterly classy move to give co-writer Marketa Irglova her due after being rudely cut off by commercial interests.

So I must admit I’m looking forward to tonight’s events. Even though I’m worried the Academy will favor Precious to undeservedly sweep (I know, I’m an asshole) and Avatar, perhaps just a little less deservedly, will come a close second. Or is it the other way around? Either way, ho-hum… And don’t get me started on the pandering and highly offensive choice to include The Blind Side among the Best Picture candidates. Affluent white woman saves underprivileged black teen from a presumed life of poverty and crime. You fucking kidding me?

But on the flip side… an animated feature is amongst the Best Picture nominees for, I believe, the first time. The awesomely weird District 9 has not chance, but it’s up there. The Dude is nominated, this time as a drunken country singer. And George Clooney is once again nominated. He won’t win this year, but still…I love that man. Not in a gay way. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Saturday 03.06.2010 | 7:23 PM EST

New York Times: Best Performances
(and scariest hair) of the Decade

Besides Sandra Bullock’s startling hair do, there’s more than a few good reasons to check out this tasteful little clip–celebrities are asked their pick for Best Performance of the Decade. There’s some predictably just answers (Kate Winslet, duh), but more often than not, this group of indie and A-list actors come up with some thoughtful, interesting choices. The fact that Cate Blanchett as Bob Dylan was not one of them still boggles the mind, but… there was one particular response particular that caught my attention: Jake Gyllenhall chose “any performance by Peter Sarsgaard.” Abso-fucking-lutely. About time some one said it.

Now, whether this is nepotisim or not (his sis Maggie is married to Peter) I could care less. Sarsgaard consistently outperforms all others in small and headlining roles alike (check out Shattered Glass, Boys Don’t Cry, Mysteries of Pittsburgh, Kinsey and Until The End of the World, to start with). His measured, minimalist performances are as disciplined as any of Matt Damon’s work (after Syriana, The Good Shepherd and the Bourne films we can legitimately consider Ben Who-fleck’s ex-boyfriend a fine actor). So, if Damon is the “thinking man’s action hero,” then Sarsgaard is the thinking man’s…thinking man.

Watch the interviews on New York Times Video

Tuesday 03.02.2010 | 1:23 PM EST

Mixology: Shitty Beers, Great In a Can

Beers in a can suck
They lose their crispness and body and deny us the eye candy of a glistening, sweaty golden bottle of lager or the thick foam of a chocolaty, full-bodied stout. (Sorry, I got carried away there, but I’m sure there’s such a thing as beer porn out there).

Now, cans certainly afford us a pseudo-manly display of strength as we punctuate our last slug with a crushing hand (shark hunter Captain Quint did it best). But the canned beers’ charm ends there. At least until recently. Three beers negate the theory:

1. The Sapporo tall boy: Housed in a tank of a can, it’s a stalwart silver monster that will defeat all but the manliest hands. It’s crisp, flavorful, delicious. Drink it from a glass bottle: Insipid and lame, tastes like ass.
2. The Heineken Mini Keg. Also quite the sturdy vessel. When offered the same beer in a bottle, I opt for wine, whiskey, gin, hell – even a Coke. But not so in the mini-kegger.It’s delicious, crisp, relatively full-bodied. But don’t be fooled – the run of the mill canned version also tastes like ass.
3. Tecaté: For some, it’s Mexico’s Budweiser, except, you know, actually tasty.
   Add a lime and it’s sublime.

Tuesday 03.02.2010 | 12:23 PM EST

Mixology: Have a (Crispy) Coke and a Smile

OCD recipe for crispy Coca-Cola
I’m from two Southern locales that revere Coca-Cola: Mexico City (the second biggest market in the world) and Atlanta (the birthplace of Coke). Neither is responsible for my love and loyalty to the best beverage every made (bourbon, another typically southern spirit running a close second, though never, ever mixed with Coke. Why ruin two good things by putting them together).

To borrow from a terrible movie (The Invention of Lying), Coke’s competitor should adopt the following marketing campaign: “Pepsi. When they don’t have Coke.” Though an urging Sir Knight (another fellow Southerner) and I would still not heed. Sitting in a New York deli one fine day, we each asked the waitress for a Coke with lime. “Is Pepsi ok,” she asked. “No!” we replied in close harmony. We order iced tea instead.

So, if you share our passion for the crispy caramel delight, here’s the proper way to serve it:

1. It’s gotta be in a can. Or at least a glass bottle if you can find it these days. Coke in a plastic bottle: flat-ish and strangely film-y.
2. You gotta pour it over ice. But not just any ice. It’s gotta be wet ice, cubed, not crushed. Plop them in a highball glass, rinse them with cold water, then pour out the water, leaving only the ice. Trust me.
3. Squeeze a wedge of lime over your freshly-rinsed ice. No self-respecting Mexican uses lemon.
4. Pour the Coke like a pro pours a beer. Slowly, tilting the glass.
5. Now tell me if that’s not the crispest coke you ever had.

Friends laughed at the fastidiousness of this approach. Till I presented them with a taste test that forever changed them. One beverage was prepared with love and tenderness. The other was sloshed carelessly into a glass smoking with dry ice, resulting in quickly-dissolving carbonation that left the beverage flat as a pre-teen and as syrupy sweet as a bad romantic comedy.

Go try it. Get back to me. Who’s OCD now?

Sunday 02.28.2010 | 4:23 PM EST

Who are You? I Am Kloot

And who the hell is Kloot? It’s not you, and it’s not me, and it’s certainly not John & Bree.
Shit. That wasn’t supposed to rhyme.

Once upon a time, Morrissey and The Verve hitched a ride with Robyn Hitchcock, rounded up the Go-Betweens and made their merry way to a Paris cabaret where David J was taking the stage, strapped with a Gretsch, spewing a mouthful of bees.

I Am Kloot are three Manchester lads who last decade released a slew of remarkable records. I’m sure there’s more than a few coolies out there that beat us to them, but for those still on the catch-up: these records are so choice. If you have the means, I highly recommend you pick one up.

2001’s Natural History leans to the acoustic just enough to be sensitive but not so much as to be fey. These are delicate little ditties guarded by wild swings and jabs. But five years later the gloves come off on the BBC Radio 1 Peel Sessions. Peel recordings have always captured performers at their most exciting and elemental. In this environment the three-piece sounds lithe and muscular, the vocal delivery both intimate and intimidating. It’s a pastiche of bossa nova shuffle, windmill blues and la-la love-you-nots.

Those Brits. They that sure as shit know how to make pop records.

Just a taste…

Saturday 02.27.2010 | 9:23 PM EST

Spot On: Some Songs Considered

The idea behind NPR’s All Songs Considered has spawned a musicologist as obsessive, if not considerably more disciplined and eloquent, as yours truly. Brian Wall’s Some Songs Considered blog serves up daily observations focusing on a single track–as catchy an idea as Rob Grover’s charming blog The Song That Got Stuck In My Head Today.

Today’s post takes the words right out of my mouth:

“…it’s hard to “stumble” on music from another era without an introduction. For example, I count a bunch of records from the postpunk era among my favorites, but I discovered them many years later.”

Not an entirely original statement, but one that rings especially true here. My own recent obsession with PostPunk was initially sparked by certain Brooklyn bands’ appropriation of the period; aided and abetted by Simon Reynolds’ Rip It Up and Start Again; and permanently cemented by Gang of Four’s Entertainment! Thusly PostPunk became a staple of my musical diet a full 25 years after it’s inception.

But enough about me… check it out:

http://somesongsconsidered.com/

Saturday 02.27.2010 | 2:23 PM EST

Obama, One Year In

Ok, maunet will not be a place to voice my political opinions. This forum is devoted to much less consequential topics (though I would argue and hope you agree that music, humor, film, art and literature are certainly worth a minute or two of your day).

Nevertheless, friend Miles Cliatt articulates beautifully on the subject, particularly in response to the notion that Obama did not accomplish enough in his first year. Thanks Miles, for providing a venue such as yours so I don’t have to.

Read it here

Saturday 02.27.2010 | 1:23 PM EST

Rat Race: Cats 2, Dogs 1. Cats Win.

I know there’s a whole roost of folks that are “not cat people,” or say that they’re “more of a dog person” or, at their most vulgar extreme “hate cats,” (you in particular, can suck it).

Great. Fine. I get it. Dogs are cool. They’re funny and loyal and goofy and fun outdoors. If I owned a British bulldog, I would have little need for therapy or anti-depressants. Just looking at that ridiculous face would lift the spirit. So, dog people, dont’ say I never loved you, or them. But:

Here at maunet (and our extended fold of writerly pet friends) we are most definitely cat folk. They’re handsome, independent, quirky and self-sufficient. You don’t have to get up at 6AM in the middle of a Brooklyn blizzard to walk them and–ahem–pick up their steaming little piles of poop for them. I hate getting up early. And I most definitely hate picking up other mammal’s poop.

And what about water? A wet dog smells god-awful. A wet cat? Well, first off, they have enough sense to not get wet. And if some unfortunate incident befalls them and they end up wet, they don’t leave your hands smelling like…like… hell i don’t know what like–here my writerly metaphors are stumped by that nasty wet-dog smell.

I could go on and on. But better to have Robert DeNiro’s
intimidating authority put to rest this age-old argument:

Loss, inevitable
Two years ago, my beloved Benjamin developed liver cancer. I spent one long year and more money than I could afford keeping him comfortable enough to enjoy, relatively speaking, one more quality year before finally letting him go. Now our dear Sir Knight and the Lady Kate are going through the same thing. One half of the charming duo Cosmo & The Drake has taken quite ill and may not make it through the winter. And as sad an ordeal as this is, it has at times been leavened by humor.

A recent visit to the vet yielded this conversation:

Kate: He seems to have some kind of growth near his anus.
Vet (lifting Cosmo’s tail): That’s his penis.
Knight: A penis anus.
Vet: What?

Love the Drake. Love the Cosmo. Love the cats. Long live the cats…

Friday 02.26.2010 | 10:23 AM EST

Weather Report: G11’s Long Exposure to Snow

G11 | ISO 80 | focal 6.1mm |  15 sec. exposure@ f 3.2

Another few inches of snow last night. Perfect opportunity to finally test long exposure results on the Canon G11. Very pleasantly surprised: virtually no noise shooting in total darkness. The Marble Tea’s new EP (A Blizzard, A True Storm) the perfect soundtrack, on repeat all the live long day.

The Center of The Universe, The Marble Tea: A Blizzard, A True Storm.

G11 | ISO 80 | focal 15mm |  15 sec. exposure@ f 3.2

G11 | ISO 80 | focal 6.1mm |  1/60@ f 5.6

Thursday 02.25.2010 | 12:23 PM EST

Weather Report: Bklyn Skies Heavy With Snow

Fat, thick, wet flakes. Not the best light for photog, great light for Nick Drake on repeat.
Seems it’s gonna last through the weekend. Calling for 3 inches today, no big whup.
Why must the weather folks always turn routine into newsworthiness?
Ithaca expecting 20 inches. Now that’s something to sneeze at!

Canon G11 | ISO 200 | 30mm focal | 640th sec at f 4.5 | post-processing in Lightroom 2

Thursday 02.25.2010 | 2:23 AM EST

Drum Solo: Rare Non-Wanky Variety

Even as a huge fan of all things percussion, I think we can agree to draw the line at the drum solo. As if it was possible, they are even more wanky/showboat-y than their 6 or 4-string counterparts. And though there’s a certain melodic narrative to the drum circle, it’s still god-awful hippie shite.

But when John Bonham settles his lumbering frame onto the throne, a juggernaut exception shatters the barrier of bad taste. This guy can do more with one foot than all of Manchester United. He plays the drums “like two jack-rabbits fuckin‘.”

Witness Bonzo’s Montreux…

Wednesday 02.24.2010 | 4:23 PM EST

The Kitchen Sink:
Your Creativity Down the Drain

Those in creative fields still beholden to client demands (record labels, global brands, movie studios, corporate retailers, the list goes on…) are well familiar with the mercenary principle: you gotta make a living, the client is “always right,” (but not really, ever). So whaddya do? Suck it up and deliver often-emabarassing, sub-par work.

In the December issue, Wired presents us with a “how to fail” strategy presumably aimed at lifting our spirits and helping us turn setbacks into advantages. Gotta love the bullshit affirmation, elusive as it may be. But the piece does deliver some satisfaction in this short anecdote from Alec Baldwin:

“The Fail: Mercenary acting.
I needed to make a living. People don’t realize actors are like plumbers. When you invite a plumber to your house and say, “I want you to put this sink in my bathroom,” the plumber doesn’t say, “I’m not going to install that sink, it’s hideous. You have the worst taste in sinks!” No, he just says, “OK,” and he puts it in.

The Save: Making a terrible romantic comedy.
My Best Friend’s Girl had one of the worst scripts I’ve ever read in my life. The movie was a huge disaster. Scathing reviews.
And I realized: I’m done with doing it for the money.”

You know what it takes to make it in the creative business with your pride intact: It takes brass balls. Go and do likewise, gents…

–

Tuesday 02.23.2010 | 4:23 PM EST

Artful CGI. Avatar Can Suck It.

This is not narrative filmmaking, simply some stunning architectural sequences created entirely with CGI. Sweet use of rack-focus and the texture work is amazing. Avatar can suck it.

Great stuff at the 7:15 mark.

It’s a little long/repetitive, the guy could use an editor, but impressive that he wrote, “shot,” lit, directed, rendered and scored the entire thing himself.

Hell, who am I to critique it at all, I’m just a guy watching it, there’s people out there actually, you know, doing stuff.

-

Monday 02.15.2010 | 12:23 PM EST

Weather Report:
Another Grey Day in Ithaca, For a Change

In this case, Every Day is Like Monday, every Ithaca winter is silent and grey. Morrissey in heavy rotation. Hard time putting nose to grindstone. Photog: iPhone + Camera Bag. Too lazy to break out a proper camera.

 Ah, the Blahs…

Tuesday 02.09.2010 | 4:23 AM EST

Out of Office w/ The National

Morissey once whined: “We hate it when our friends become successful.” Well, I kinda get the sentiment, but when it comes to The National boys, I defer to pride… What a thrill it’s been to watch the boys rise from empty Brooklyn clubs to sold out Radio City shows.

But who’da thought you’d find them featured in this context:

Pretty fucking cool.

Sunday 02.07.2010 | 4:23 AM EST

Blogging: That’s not writing. That’s typing.

If we work on the assumption that Truman Capote’s charming reduction of Kerouak’s amphetamine-driven drivel is accurate, then blogging is certainly an easy target for comparable derision. It’s not writing. It’s typing. And as such we shall consider it here…Henry Miller for the Seinfeld set. Calvin & Hobbs garbed as Salinger & Murakami. You know. For kids.

I jump on this crowded train with trepidation and sheepish enthusiasm. This whole “blog ” thing can be, in the parlance of our times, quite douchy. Maunet may look like a blog. It may dress like a blog and even dance like a blog. More than likely it will, save the occasional purple prose and parenthetical distraction, even read like a blog. But let’s just agree not to call it such. Stop saying blog. Who said blog? Blog. Oh wait, that’s me again, sorry.

Here’s to jumping someone else’s train. Now read on, Macduff…

Thursday 01.07.2010 | 4:23 AM EST

Rightly So, John Lennon Gets Bitchy on Fills

Thanks to John, we can now invoke the correct song-writing language needed to enforce the crucial difference between ”simple” and “simplistic.”

Those of you that have spent any time making music should be well-familiar with the little bickers and spats that occur when working in an ensemble setting. Drummers, guitar players, singers–we’re all guilty of over-playing at some point or another. So we each have the responsibility of imposing checks and balances on each other’s wanky, over-wrought performances that sneak in to the arrangement process.

 Listen here as John let’s his band have it…

Hallelujah, brother…

Wednesday 01.06.2010 | 4:23 AM EST

iPhone Camera Not Quite As Shitty Any More

Over the past 10 years I’ve shot with a variety of film and digital cameras to capture off-the-cuff snapshots: Canon Elf, Lomo, Holga, Canon G11 and the Nikon D80 DSLR. All these produced great results… but busy (or lazy) lives being what they are, good shots often remained on the media storage they were captured on, never quite making it to my desktop where I could process and share images. At least not till months later, when the temporal relevancy of the shot was sometimes lost.

The iPhone was my first and only mobile phone camera. My most anticipated feature was the ability to capture a shot and share it with others via email or MMS in real time. But I was initially disappointed by it’s total and complete shitty-ness: Low pixel-count, horrible low-light capabilty, excessive noise, slow shutter speeds, non-existent exposure control and fixed-focus limitations. I know, it’s a lot to ask from a mobile camera but, to a certain extent, some mobile phone models do deliver on some these features.

The 1st and 2nd generation iPhones were particularly susceptible to these flaws. The 3GS somewhat improved it’s viability as a legitimate on-the-go camera by a boost in pixel count from 2MP to 3MP, dramatically improved low-light results and significant noise reduction. Still no replacement for a pro-sumer pocket camera or DSLR, but at least it was a small step forward.

//More

Tuesday 01.05.2010 | 4:23 AM EST

Top 30 Studio Drum Sounds Ever

Not talking strictly performance or technical prowess. It’s the texture, man.

In no particular order:

1. John Lennon: Watching The Wheels
2. Spoon: All the Pretty Girls Go to the City
3. Dusty Springfield: Son of A Preacher Man
4. The Beatles: (tie) A Day In The Life/Tomorrow Never Knows
5. Cream: White Room. Just for you, hippies.
6. Joy Division: Transmission
7. Led Zeppelin: (tie) Fool In The Rain/Good Times Bad Times
8. PJ Harvey: O Stella
9. The Police: (tie) Roxanne/Every Breath You Take. Don’t lie, you love it.
10. Velvet Underground: Oh Sweet Nothin’
11. Gang of Four: Damaged Goods
12. The Smiths: How Soon Is Now?
13. Prince: (tie) Lady Cab Driver/Pop Life
14. Beastie Boys: Sabotage
15. The Fall: Chicago, Now!
16. Lou Reed: Coney Island Baby
17. Fleetwood Mac: Dreams
18. David Bowie: Five Years
19. Elvis Costello: Lipstick Vogue
20. The Cure: 10:15 Saturday Night
21. The Cars: Candy-O
22. Gary Numan: Cars
23. Psychedelic Furs: Pretty In Pink (OST Version).
24. U2: (tie) New Year’s Day/Elvis Presley In America
25. Adam Ant: Goody Two Shoes
26. R.E.M.: 7 Chinese Brothers
27. The National: Brainy
28. Elliott Smith: Alameda
29. Big Country: In A Big Country
30. The Who: Eminence Front. Surprise! Keith Moon doesn’t play on this track.

Don’t argue, young’uns. Go to your room and don’t come out till you finish your homework: