There should be a law stating that all movies should run no longer than 90ish minutes, and based on The Hives mos welcome jammed-packed rebel rousing return to NYC last night at Webster Hall, all concerts should end after about 70 minutes. Anything less would be uncivilized. Anything more would also be uncivilized, but I couldn’t find a Brian Bosworth clip of him saying that, so I offer more Boz instead: Denver’s Three Amigos or his real estate listings
The Chemical Brothers Ladytron & The Rub McCarren Pool August 22nd
Us kids today aint got no Pink Floyd laser light shows to help tear down our innerwalls, but in my humboldt opinion, The Chemical Brothers’ ear and eye candy-a-thon that they call a ‘concert’ and I call ‘two blokes turning knobs’ is the closet thing we have to it. While much hullabaloo was made of Daft Punk’s rawkin recent shows in the US of A, probably cause they’ve rarely played here, The Chems have been workin the same kinda euphoric dance magic here, there and everywhere many a times over in this new century. Sure, they may not be robots or turnin’ said knobs in a pyramid, but Tom Rowlands and Lily Allen-friendly Ed Simons time and thyme again put on the best pre-recorded show on earth. Saturday’s show at McCarren Pool was no different (includin perfectly matched opening sets from playgirls Ladytron and miller kash-ups by DJs The Rub), as the Bros Chem mixed in hot tunes from their mos franztastic new jounks, We Are The Night. Buy it curly and moften!!!
We already told ya about Junior Senior’s hot new/old album and hot new EP (check out ‘Headphones Song‘ [WMP Stream], the jam of the year) and we already told ya about the last time we sawsz thems, but what we have yet to tell ya about is what transpired last nite where many a coco boys and coco girls perspired shaking their coconuts. It’s hard to put into words, but lettuce juss say that when a show opens with a viking lard-a$$ jumping on stage to beer bong it up, pile driver a keyboardist and dole out sloppy wet man kisses, ya juss know it’s gonna be one for the memory banks! And oh yeah, all that fatty arbucklin’ had nuttin to do with Jr Sr, cause it all happened under the thumcredible gayey gayness that is Gravy Train!!!!, which seems to be the only band in the world that could possibly open for our yummy Danish friends
A hard act to follow on any planet, but Senior (Jeppe Laursen) and Junior (Jesper Mortensen) were up to the task, with a setlist mos friendly towards their funmazin debut D-D-Don’t Stop the Beat. While I prayed in vain for the two B-52 bitties to make a cameo and sing ‘Take My Time’ with the boys, we were at least treated to JD from Le Tigre joinin in on ‘Can I Get Get Get’. Junior Senior only played for an hour, but it seemed to be a lifetime as our feet never ceased moving. Whatta purrfect follow-up to the Daft madness that happened last week. Now if only someone would gather those two bands + Air, the Chem Bros, Roysksopp, Basement Jaxx and Ladytron and have them all tour together to end all tours. Now that’s what I call music!
I finally got an answer to that age olde question that has been plaguing scienastrologists for ages: What kinda concert do two French robots put on? Happarently one of the most RAWKinest ones mt EVERest and mt BLANC! With the imagery of Tron, THX-1138, the Star Wars arcade game, Intel, and the Masons, Daft Punk pieced together the mos bananas and grapefruit ear and eyegasams of this new century! While they may only be two dudes juss twiddling knobs to pre-recorded music inside a pyramid, I still wouldn’t trade the eggspeareance in for 17 live Jimi Hendrix guitar solos. Wait, what the hell am I saying? Anyblaze, the non-stop mix they played got the usually tame/lame NYCers toe tappinin and hands clapinin from the get go to the get end. I mean, they may be robots, but they is human after all!
looks like the only thing I missed out on all night was thisNSFW subway ride!
2007’s Squeeze may not be the same exact line-up of yer older sister’s late 70s/early 80s Squeeze, but I doubt anyone’s losing sleep over Jools Holland’s absence, as long as the core duo of Glenn Tilbrook and Chris Difford are the ones carrying the torch. This is their first tour since the ’99, which is a good thing for me, cause outside of a few of their hits (‘Tempted’, ‘Mussels From A Shell’, & ‘Take Me I’m Yours’), I didn’t really get into them until a few years ago. And from the 20 or so tunes I now know, Squeeze RAWKINly played half of them, leading me to want to discover all the rest. The setlist was similar to the show they played at the Nokia Theater two nights before, with much bestness abound. And the fans? Well, these 45 year-olds were eatin it up. So much so that I got goosebumps when Squeeze ended the first set with ‘Cool For Cats’ and when the band left the stage, the entire place was chanting ‘Ewwwwwwww Ewwwwww Eww’ until they reemerged for the encore
Being one of the world’s fifthmost Clockwork Orange fans, I’ve endlessly heard that Lindsay Anderson’s classic if…. was required viewing. For years I waited for the DVD to be released, and after it finally was, I had to wait another 2 months before Netflix found a copy available to send me. And worth the wait it mos certainly was! Malcolm McDowell‘s feature film debut as a rousing rebel private school student is required viewing for everyone, even if you hate on ACO. You should also czech out the audio commentary with film critic/historian David Robinson and duhvs course McDowell. Cause one shouldn’t go thru life with a bunch of ‘what if….s’
Space Cadet: Sunshine marks the third collaboration between director Boyle and writer Alex Garland. The others were The Beach and 28 Days Later. None too shabby, and I’m sure the next movie he’s writing won’t be either. It’s a lil project called Halo
Byrne Baby Byrne: is there anyone cute-afyin the silver screen any quiter and butter than Queen Amidala impostor RoseByrne? If there is, I don’t even wanna know about tit
John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Breast In Show
+ endless hours of Wii tennis
which gave me a sore arm aka Wiidonitis (soon to be added to WebMD)
+ introducing the gayest movie ever
to a friend not in the know
Sunday
The Bourne Ultimatum Bourne Again (wonder if anyone else came up with sum tang that clever) Trailers & Mo
Although nothing transforms in Bourne 3, I dare you spray that it’s not the popcorn pleaser of the summer. If you double dare me back, you knows I’ll be taking that effin physical challenge so eat it you jerkface or I’ll turn your Marc Summers into the Marc winters of your discontent! Dude, Bourne Ults was outta forkin control. I couldn’t stop saying to meself, how the fizzle did they film and edit this pizzle? The action never seemed to stop, even when Edward R. Murrow kept sayin goodnight and good luck and FBI Chief of Behavioral Science Jack Crawford kept pining for Clarice Starling and Julia Stiles made this face for the humpteenth thyme and Daddy Warbucks tried to buck Bourne in the pooper. Shiz may be called Bourne Ultimatum but with its love from below and above, shiz coulda been called Bourne To Rizock The UlTomatoMeterum
Sprinkle Z Deutsch: Daniel Brühl plays the brother of Franka Potente‘s deceased character Marie. The two German acting dynamos have only been paired up in one movie before, $chlaraffenland
The Grass Is Greener On The Other Side: while Paul Greengrass may be the king of documentary style fictional filmmaking, Barney Greengrass is the king of sturgeon. And regardless of how funny Kevin James is, I will never ever watch an episode of the King of Queens
John Grisham’s Jizzum (aka Verdict): Breast In Show
The Police Giants Stadium (Go Skins!) August 5th
Ever since I was blown away and I blew myself watching Simon & Garfunkel reunited at MSG, I knew had to see any group that I hearted if they decided to ever reform. The Police were juss such a band, and hispecially so since it seemed like they would never get back together cause Sting is a prick and he’s too busy sending his love down a well. Well, the cheeky bastards still gots it, and the show’s setlist, which seems to be the same from city to city, is purrrfectly suited for those Greatest Hits only fans like myself. Now I wouldn’t hexaggactly say that I was blown away (the Squeeze show was actually better) or ready to blow myself or even Jude Law for that matter (OHHHH Jude Law and your juicy cock!), but I’m still glad I saw the show. Now that this reunion is outta the way, I want a police reunion of a whole different medium: Sgt. Joe Friday and Pep Streebeck. Juss the facts ma’am, and juss watch this vid of Hanks and Akroyd rappin to a tune called ‘City of Crime’
10. Oct, 2007 
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