Tuesday 03.02.2010 | 12:23 PM UTC

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.” Amusing as the this notion may be, Sir Knight (another fellow Southerner) and I would pay it no 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 served from 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 and drain it, leaving only the ice.
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 their coke-drinking habits. One beverage was prepared with love and tenderness. The other was sloshed carelessly into a glass smoking with dry ice, resulting in a 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 UTC

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 UTC

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 UTC

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 UTC

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 UTC

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 UTC

Weather Report: Bklyn Skies Heavy With Snow

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

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!

Listen to the Northern Sky…

Thursday 02.25.2010 | 2:23 AM UTC

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 UTC

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 UTC

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 UTC

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

iPhone + CameraBag | © maunet.com

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 UTC

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.