Silence in Architecture

Entries from January 2009

Gang Gang Dance – “Princes”

January 30, 2009 · Leave a Comment

Like, Gang Gang Dance is totally one of the most awesome bands around…so here is a way killer video for their bitchin’ song “Princes”.  Plus, I think it’s pretty kewl that they are playing Coachella this year.  Right?  I have no idea why I’m talking this way.  I apologize.

“Princes” (From Tim and Barry TV):

Gang Gang Dance’s latest release, Saint Dymphna, received our seal of approval last year.  If you still haven’t gobbled their goop, then what’s stopping you?  It’s out on Social Registry

[Gang Gang Dance's official MySpace page]

 

-Chris

Categories: I Want My MTV

New Music: The Phantom Band – “Folk Song Oblivion”

January 30, 2009 · 7 Comments

The audio on this rip is pretty mangled, but it should give you a pretty good idea of what this enormously inventive group of Scots is up to:

Their debut album, Checkmate Savage, is out now on Chemikal Underground. Do yourself a favor and don’t miss this one. 

[The Phantom Band's official MySpace page]

- Jezy

Categories: Uncategorized

Word Porn: “The Tortilla Curtain” (1995)

January 28, 2009 · 1 Comment

Did you know that the U.S. accepted more immigrants last year than all the other countries of the world combined — and that half of them settled in California? And that’s legal immigrants, people with skills, money, education. The ones coming in through the Tortilla Curtain down there, those are the ones that are killing us . . .

The term “social novel” tends to send most American critics running for the hills. It has come to imply a certain triteness, I think — some sort of vague abstraction that many see as having ironically died with the A-bomb, and ultimately distracting from the serious business of fiction writing. After all, shouldn’t all novels serve some sort of social function? It’s a question which brings us to the age-old debate between critics of the formalist and cultural poetic schools of literary criticism: what purpose does fiction serve? Are its motives didactic, instructional, and irrevocably indebted to the zeitgeist which birthed it? Or, does our understanding and appreciation of the text begin and end with the front and back cover?

T.C. Boyle’s The Tortilla Curtain is a thoroughly convincing, and often very painful, account of race relations in America. Examining the sometimes jarring discrepancies between thought and action, between ideas and their execution, Boyle effortlessly reminds us that politics are inescapable: they latch to our every move, are reflected in every minute decision we make, and — sometimes in very violent, cruel ways — collide with the sober realities of our increasingly fractured, paradoxically global society.

Delaney, one of the novel’s central figures, is a white male of priveledge. He’s a Sierra Club Liberal who prides himself in his ultimate breadth of empathy and understanding, in his connectedness with our precious and quickly-fleeting biosphere, in the progressive ideals which shape his view of America as a beacon for peace, love and understanding. After hitting  an undocumented immigrant with his car — Candido, the anti-hero of the novel’s intercalary chapters — Delaney, after paying off the Spanish-speaking homeless man and leaving him to what seems to be certain death, is forced to address what is essentially an American dilemma: how do we reconcile the ideological pillars on which our country was founded (Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to be free. . .) with the social realities of our treatment of minorities, “documented” or not?

Why did [Delaney] keep thinking of shadowy black-and-white movies, men in creased hats leaning forward to light cigarettes . . . Because he was covering himself, that’s why. Because he’d just left that poor son of a bitch there alongside the road . . . and because he’d been glad of it, relieved to buy him off with his twenty dollars’ blood money. And how did that square with his liberal-humanist ideals?

The Tortilla Curtain, often bordering on a pastiche of American “dust bowl fiction,” gets most of its mileage from playing off of Steinbeck’s form in The Grapes of Wrath. Like Steinbeck’s mammoth opus, Boyle’s novel makes no bones about its perceived job of providing social commentary. It’s unmistakably clear, through the heavy-handedness of the novel’s symbolic and pairing devices (a page straight from Steinbeck’s often criticized literary playbook) that Boyle wants us to use The Tortilla Curtain as an implement by which to consider the world around us. We should struggle, along with Delaney, to ask ourselves what it means to live in a free and democratic society — and what, after all, is less democratic than an impervious wall surrounding the American border?

Of course, the novel is more than the sum of its parts. Don’t expect a 300-page lecture on immigration legislation, or a constantly winking re-write of Candide, for that matter. Expect instead a deeply rewarding, compulsively readable, and uncompromisingly human and heart-wrenching affair which — while it may do little to answer that age-old question of purpose in fiction writing — renders in clean, muscular prose the very questions which will essentially define us and our relationship with the rest of the world.

- Jezy

Categories: Books
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Favorites: Souvlaki

January 28, 2009 · 2 Comments

*Note: Sorry that I have been absent the past few days.  I took a breather.  Thank you to Jezy for picking up the slack.

 

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I don’t need to draw a line in the sand between My Bloody Valentine and Slowdive, delineating one as superior to the other.  My admiration for the two has comingled peacefully for years.  The reason I say this is that there seem to be distinct subsets of shoegazer fans: those convicted to follow the Ride religion, Crane cohorts, Catherine Wheel spinners, etc.  Even with all of this gerrymandering, to ignore “Loveless” is to blaspheme against the State, but where does that put “Souvlaki”? 

 

Slowdive is certainly no forgotten act, but their stature never rose to MBV levels of cosmic ebullition.  Perhaps a certain amount of this can be explained by the fact that Slowdive didn’t evaporate into quite the same cloud of “what ifs” as Kevin Shield’s project.  The band followed their masterpiece (“Souvlaki”) with another astounding, if less-often heard, effort (“Pygmalion”).  They broke up and leader Neil Halstead formed the equally dreamy, if earthier, Mojave 3.  And he just released a new solo album.  So, yeah, I guess there is less blurry mystique behind Slowdive, but that doesn’t decrease the bliss of “Souvlaki”, which is easily one of my ten favorite albums of the ‘90s. 

 

“When the Sun Hits”

 

 

“Allison”

 

Categories: Favorite Albums
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John Updike: 1932 – 2009

January 28, 2009 · 4 Comments

NPR.org, January 27, 2009 ·

John Updike, the Pulitzer Prize-winning novelist, prolific man of letters and erudite chronicler of sex, divorce and other adventures in the postwar prime of the American empire, died Tuesday of lung cancer. He was 76.

Updike once claimed that he was 15 before he read his first novel, but thereafter, the author wasted little time in mastering the art of fiction. He published his first short story, “Friends from Philadelphia,” in The New Yorker when he was 22, and his first novel, The Poorhouse Fair, five years later.

A literary writer who frequently appeared on best-seller lists, the tall, hawk-nosed Updike vowed early in his career to write a book each year. Working at this clip, he published more than than 25 novels and more than a dozen short story collections, as well as poems, criticism, a memoir and even a famous essay about baseball great Ted Williams.

Updike created his best-known character, a former high school basketball star named Harry “Rabbit” Angstrom, in the 1960 novel Rabbit, Run and later returned to the character in three more novels and a novella. . . (continue reading)

Interview with Updike (1995):

Part 1

Part 2

- Jezy

Categories: Books
Tagged: ,

Jenny Jones: cooler than previously suspected?

January 26, 2009 · 3 Comments

Probably not. But check this shit out:

Gotta love the totally spontaneous, completely unprompted, impeccably in-time dance eruption at the beginning.

Be sure to tune in to ABC next Wednesday at 4:00 P.M., when Black Dice will be appearing on Tyra!

- Jezy

Categories: Uncategorized
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The Clash – Magnificent Seven (Tom Snyder Show)

January 22, 2009 · Leave a Comment

Notice the double entendre of “Still to Come The Outer Fringe of Sex” flashed during the climax of this rather righteous performance.   Oh how I wonder what that was all about.

From the All Music Guide:

By the time they recorded Sandinista!, the members of the Clash were spending a lot of time in New York City and found themselves exposed to the burgeoning hip-hop scene. As a result, the streetwise lyrics and funky rhythms of this genre found their way into the Clash’s ever-evolving sound. A great example of the Clash’s experiments in this area is “The Magnificent Seven,” a fun excursion into rap that was inspired by the work of the Sugarhill Gang. The witty lyrics comment on the daily drudgery that working men suffer through to finance their dream of a better life (“working for a rise, better my station/Take my baby to sophistication”). They also playfully add some historical figures into the equation near the song’s end via lines like “Socrates and Milhous Nixon/Both went out the same way -through the kitchen.” It’s a very wordy set of lyrics but the music cruises through them at a steady clip thank to a fast paced melody that intersperses to staccato, sing-song verse melodies with a ‘football chant’-styled chorus. The Clash’s recording of “The Magnificent Seven” enhances the drive of the music by building its arrangement on relentlessly-grooving funk bass loop and adding dub-styled echoed percussion, funky rhythm guitar riffs and jazzy piano licks to give it plenty of R&B-flavored atmosphere. Joe Strummer tops it off with a vocal that delivers the twisty lyrics with plenty of energy and good cheer. The result was a Clash song that sounded just as good in a disco as it would at a rock club – the Clash took note of this and prepared a special instrumental 12-inch version for club play that was entitled “The Magnificent Dance.”

From “The Tomorrow Show With Tom Snyder” (1981)

Categories: I Want My MTV
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Animal Collective Chat on NPR

January 21, 2009 · 2 Comments

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2/3 or 1/2 (their many configurations make it difficult for accurate fractions) of Animal Collective will be on NPR’s All Things Considered today at 2:00 p.m. EST.  Maybe they will talk about the Sun City Girls or drugs or Lisbon or handshakes.  And maybe NPR will read the comment I left with them about their cliched reportage from rural Oklahoma yesterday.  Maybe.  Listen here:

http://www. npr. org/templates/story/story. php?storyId=99607179

And why not?

Clip from the Sun City Girls‘ video ”The Halcyon Days of Symmetry”:

Categories: The Outer Reaches
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Obama’s Inauguration Speech

January 20, 2009 · 1 Comment

Full transcript as prepared for delivery of President Barack Obama’s inaugural remarks on Jan. 20, 2009, at the United States Capitol in Washington, D.C.

My fellow citizens:

I stand here today humbled by the task before us, grateful for the trust you have bestowed, mindful of the sacrifices borne by our ancestors. I thank President Bush for his service to our nation, as well as the generosity and cooperation he has shown throughout this transition.

Forty-four Americans have now taken the presidential oath. The words have been spoken during rising tides of prosperity and the still waters of peace. Yet, every so often the oath is taken amidst gathering clouds and raging storms. At these moments, America has carried on not simply because of the skill or vision of those in high office, but because We the People have remained faithful to the ideals of our forbearers, and true to our founding documents.

So it has been. So it must be with this generation of Americans.

That we are in the midst of crisis is now well understood. Our nation is at war, against a far-reaching network of violence and hatred. Our economy is badly weakened, a consequence of greed and irresponsibility on the part of some, but also our collective failure to make hard choices and prepare the nation for a new age. Homes have been lost; jobs shed; businesses shuttered. Our health care is too costly; our schools fail too many; and each day brings further evidence that the ways we use energy strengthen our adversaries and threaten our planet.

These are the indicators of crisis, subject to data and statistics. Less measurable but no less profound is a sapping of confidence across our land – a nagging fear that America’s decline is inevitable, and that the next generation must lower its sights.

Today I say to you that the challenges we face are real. They are serious and they are many.

They will not be met easily or in a short span of time. But know this, America – they will be met. On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord.

On this day, we come to proclaim an end to the petty grievances and false promises, the recriminations and worn out dogmas, that for far too long have strangled our politics.

We remain a young nation, but in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things. The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness.

In reaffirming the greatness of our nation, we understand that greatness is never a given. It must be earned. Our journey has never been one of short-cuts or settling for less. It has not been the path for the faint-hearted – for those who prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and fame. Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things – some celebrated but more often men and women obscure in their labor, who have carried us up the long, rugged path towards prosperity and freedom.

For us, they packed up their few worldly possessions and traveled across oceans in search of a new life.

For us, they toiled in sweatshops and settled the West; endured the lash of the whip and plowed the hard earth.

For us, they fought and died, in places like Concord and Gettysburg; Normandy and Khe Sahn. Time and again these men and women struggled and sacrificed and worked till their hands were raw so that we might live a better life. They saw America as bigger than the sum of our individual ambitions; greater than all the differences of birth or wealth or faction.

This is the journey we continue today. We remain the most prosperous, powerful nation on Earth. Our workers are no less productive than when this crisis began. Our minds are no less inventive, our goods and services no less needed than they were last week or last month or last year. Our capacity remains undiminished. But our time of standing pat, of protecting narrow interests and putting off unpleasant decisions – that time has surely passed. Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America.

For everywhere we look, there is work to be done. The state of the economy calls for action, bold and swift, and we will act – not only to create new jobs, but to lay a new foundation for growth. We will build the roads and bridges, the electric grids and digital lines that feed our commerce and bind us together. We will restore science to its rightful place, and wield technology’s wonders to raise health care’s quality and lower its cost. We will harness the sun and the winds and the soil to fuel our cars and run our factories. And we will transform our schools and colleges and universities to meet the demands of a new age. All this we can do. And all this we will do.

Now, there are some who question the scale of our ambitions – who suggest that our system cannot tolerate too many big plans. Their memories are short. For they have forgotten what this country has already done; what free men and women can achieve when imagination is joined to common purpose, and necessity to courage.

What the cynics fail to understand is that the ground has shifted beneath them – that the stale political arguments that have consumed us for so long no longer apply. The question we ask today is not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works – whether it helps families find jobs at a decent wage, care they can afford, a retirement that is dignified. Where the answer is yes, we intend to move forward. Where the answer is no, programs will end. And those of us who manage the public’s dollars will be held to account – to spend wisely, reform bad habits, and do our business in the light of day – because only then can we restore the vital trust between a people and their government.

Nor is the question before us whether the market is a force for good or ill. Its power to generate wealth and expand freedom is unmatched, but this crisis has reminded us that without a watchful eye, the market can spin out of control – and that a nation cannot prosper long when it favors only the prosperous. The success of our economy has always depended not just on the size of our Gross Domestic Product, but on the reach of our prosperity; on our ability to extend opportunity to every willing heart – not out of charity, but because it is the surest route to our common good.

As for our common defense, we reject as false the choice between our safety and our ideals. Our Founding Fathers, faced with perils we can scarcely imagine, drafted a charter to assure the rule of law and the rights of man, a charter expanded by the blood of generations. Those ideals still light the world, and we will not give them up for expedience’s sake. And so to all other peoples and governments who are watching today, from the grandest capitals to the small village where my father was born: know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman, and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity, and that we are ready to lead once more.

Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, but with sturdy alliances and enduring convictions. They understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows through its prudent use; our security emanates from the justness of our cause, the force of our example, the tempering qualities of humility and restraint.

We are the keepers of this legacy. Guided by these principles once more, we can meet those new threats that demand even greater effort – even greater cooperation and understanding between nations. We will begin to responsibly leave Iraq to its people, and forge a hard-earned peace in Afghanistan. With old friends and former foes, we will work tirelessly to lessen the nuclear threat, and roll back the specter of a warming planet. We will not apologize for our way of life, nor will we waver in its defense, and for those who seek to advance their aims by inducing terror and slaughtering innocents, we say to you now that our spirit is stronger and cannot be broken; you cannot outlast us, and we will defeat you.

For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus – and non-believers. We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth; and because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and segregation, and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace.

To the Muslim world, we seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect.

To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict, or blame their society’s ills on the West – know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy. To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist.

To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds. And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to suffering outside our borders; nor can we consume the world’s resources without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must change with it.

As we consider the road that unfolds before us, we remember with humble gratitude those brave Americans who, at this very hour, patrol far-off deserts and distant mountains. They have something to tell us today, just as the fallen heroes who lie in Arlington whisper through the ages.

We honor them not only because they are guardians of our liberty, but because they embody the spirit of service; a willingness to find meaning in something greater than themselves. And yet, at this moment – a moment that will define a generation – it is precisely this spirit that must inhabit us all.

For as much as government can do and must do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies. It is the kindness to take in a stranger when the levees break, the selflessness of workers who would rather cut their hours than see a friend lose their job which sees us through our darkest hours. It is the firefighter’s courage to storm a stairway filled with smoke, but also a parent’s willingness to nurture a child, that finally decides our fate.

Our challenges may be new. The instruments with which we meet them may be new. But those values upon which our success depends – hard work and honesty, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty and patriotism – these things are old. These things are true. They have been the quiet force of progress throughout our history. What is demanded then is a return to these truths. What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility – a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation, and the world, duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character, than giving our all to a difficult task.

This is the price and the promise of citizenship.

This is the source of our confidence – the knowledge that God calls on us to shape an uncertain destiny.

This is the meaning of our liberty and our creed – why men and women and children of every race and every faith can join in celebration across this magnificent mall, and why a man whose father less than sixty years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath.

So let us mark this day with remembrance, of who we are and how far we have traveled. In the year of America’s birth, in the coldest of months, a small band of patriots huddled by dying campfires on the shores of an icy river. The capital was abandoned. The enemy was advancing. The snow was stained with blood. At a moment when the outcome of our revolution was most in doubt, the father of our nation ordered these words be read to the people:

“Let it be told to the future world…that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive…that the city and the country, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet [it].”

America. In the face of our common dangers, in this winter of our hardship, let us remember these timeless words. With hope and virtue, let us brave once more the icy currents, and endure what storms may come. Let it be said by our children’s children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God’s grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations.

Categories: As the World Turns
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I Hear America Singing

January 20, 2009 · 8 Comments

obama I was thirteen when the Supreme Court appointed George W. Bush the forty-third president of the United States. This was the same year I first wrapped my sweaty palms around Orwell’s 1984, as well as the only biography of Malcom X in the Madill Junior High library. It was also the year I discovered punk rock. More than the year of the “hanging chad,” or the world’s first teetering step into a new millennium, the year 2000 was especially pivotal for me in that it was the year during which I began to get an inkling of the kind of adult I would later become.

Since then, I’ve had a borderline obsessive infatuation with American politics. While it may have started in my bedroom, endlessly spinning The Subhumans’ The Day the Country Died on my first turntable and pretending that I knew something about injustice, this puny expression of small town frustration — symptomatic of the more troubling and increasingly undeniable sense that the way I was beginning to see the world was exponentially different from everything that I saw and heard from everyone around me — had come to be an indisputable fact of life. I’ve since read more, absorbed more, and learned why people like George Orwell, Malcom X and The Subhumans were so upset in the first place.

I was seventeen when John Kerry lost his 2004 bid for the presidency. Oh, how the times had changed. I had read Chomsky, gluttonously consumed every Dylan album my anemic movie-jerk paycheck would accommodate, and had spent weekends composing and distributing my own leaflets and reading lists outside the two movie theaters showing Fahrenheit 9/11. As I was four months away from being of legal voting age, the only exercisable option afforded me during the months leading up to the election was to  canvass door-to-door throughout the cultural backwash of South-Central Oklahoma. Back then, there was no quicker way to get a door slammed in your face than to utter the words “Hi, I’m Jezy Gray and I’m representing the John Kerry campaign.”

The election was as tough a loss for me as it was for most thoughtful Americans, but so far it had been the nature of the game: you work from the outside, from the fringes — and you lose. Always.

I don’t have to tell you that 2008 was a truly extraordinary year. Not because of the mind-boggling circus of a primary and general election, the surreal ecstasy of seeing the first black man elected President, the near-collapse of our entire financial framework, or the crushing disappointment that America’s first experiment with socialism in the 21st Century was the lobbing of money at corporate Goliaths  in order to see what would stick (surprisingly little, it turns out). What made 2008 so undeniably extraordinary is that it’s the first time — in my experience at least — that we won something big. As the handful of hours left in the Bush administration begin to pare closer and closer to oblivion, the reality of it all is becoming more and more electric. We won.

There are some people who will try to convince you otherwise. And when your TV set is perpetually looping images of vacuous celebrities spouting off empty buzz words like “change” and “hope,” chased with a two-hour special on how Obama takes his coffee, it’s easy to forget this simple, irrefutable fact: you won.  If the images from Abu Ghraib make you ashamed to live here, you won. If the last eight years have left you feeling bitter, defeated, hopeless — you won. If the sobering reality of living in the most violent, brutally aggressive superpower of this century leaves you feeling sick at your stomach, you won. If the war against the poor, against women, against homosexuals, against black people and brown people, against literacy and journalism — against rationality, in general — has made you regard the term “American idealism” as inherently laughable abstraction, then you’ve won something very real and very imporant.

Don’t let anyone take that away from you.

Chase that feeling.

- Jezy

Categories: Turn to the Left · politics
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