Tuesday, June 01, 2004

Have I mentioned that I really hate the name of my blog? I came up with it on a total whim; I needed a name, and I just couldn't think of anything else. Now a couple of people read this thing, and I'm stuck with a name that makes me look like a slavering acolyte of late-period Beastie Boys, which I am not. This is not a good look (New Beasties single = garbage.)

Wow, so I haven't written here for a minute. The M.O.P. show at the Ottobar was fun. It was the first time I've seen cops working the door at the Ottobar and the first time I've seen a mostly nonwhite crowd there. Smiley the Ghetto Child told me that I need to be playing basketball, DJ Scratch did a beatbox version of "Doodoo Brown", and M.O.P.'s rock band managed not to suck, which was pretty amazing. M.O.P.'s live show isn't exactly tight, but it was pretty much just what I needed: lots of amped-up angry dudes yelling. Plus I won plenty of badass points from everyone who was too scurred to go or too poor to pay the $20 door.

Speaking of amped-up angry dudes yelling, I really liked Troy. I am pretty hyped on the new season of mega-blockbusters, and Troy was a good start. If a movie has lots of blood and dudes throwing spears and ridiculous dialogue and a soundtrack of vaguely Middle-Eastern-sounding women wailing wordlessly, I'll probably like it. And I like the idea of entire wars being decided by like five or six guys who are really good at fighting. This movie has a cast of thousands, but both armies just totally stop fighting to watch when Brad Pitt fights that Australian guy.

The McSweeney's comic issue is out now. It seems to be pretty heavy on people who do comics insisting that comics are a valid artform - is anyone arguing? Where does this inferiority complex come from? But the Chris Ware poster cover is ridiculous hot.

I was afraid the Ratatat album would sound like Moving Units covering Fatboy Slim tracks or some other godawful dance/rock combination, but it turns out to be really good, like a more emotive Daft Punk. You can't even tell the guitars are guitars, and that's a good thing. Everything sounds like it's coming through filters, and it's got this great pillowy, hazy, rococo disco sheen to it. It's the perfect soundtrack for driving from Baltimore City to the swimming hole at Oregon Ridge Park. If you're in Baltimore, you really need to be making that drive. This summer is all about swimming holes.

"Weakest Link" by Trillville is a terrifying, riotous, buzzing, cacophonous, hilarious, insane, riduculous masterpiece. It's like crunk to the millionth level, and it needs to be released as a single yesterday. If Dizzee Rascal ever does anything this good, call me. (I like Dizzee and all, but I'm saying.)