Atomictumor

Illness may prevent me from doing many things (taxes, going to work, Drs Appts, birthdays, anniversaries, bar mitzvahs, the list goes on and on), but it won’t prevent me from going to see a kick ass concert, especially when the show is free, and when its Of Montreal. 

I got into this band fairly recently, and their latest record The Sunlandic Twins has almost incessantly been playing in the Volvo.  Except for when GAC steals it out to play it in the Van.  Regardless, its a damn catchy album.

Its almost easy to play Of Montreal off as being another one of those bands remaking the ’80s for all these little dumb kids too young to remember how lame most it was the first time, but once you listen to it for a while, what you see is a manic little pop band putting a sugar high to music.  Even tho the first song on the album sounds so much like the Cars that there is a point when GAC and I both go “I GUESS YOU’RE JUST WHAT I NEEDED” in unison, well, things like that you just have to take with the territory. 

Anyway, they’re great.  If my word doesn’t persuade you, well, head to their website and listen to a bit o’the music yourself.  The head to Pitchfork and read a review of one of their shows.  Not paying much attention because you never heard of the band?  Well, now you have.  Just because its new music don’t mean you won’t like it.

Anyway, if you’ve got nothing to do, mosey on down to Chatt Town and check em out.  Afterwards, we’re going to the Mud Pie to get loaded up on caffeine and beer, so you’re welcome to join us. 

Just don’t drink out of my cup.

The other night GAC and I rented Brick, and I found it to be one of the best damn movies I think I may have ever seen. Now, I’m not ol’ Joe Powell, and I can’t write a movie review as eloquently as he, but I feel that I must compell you to watch this movie on account of the amount of rockin it did. Not unlike Dokken.

I digress.

The preview for the movie led me to understand that it was about highschools, and probably one of those indie angster kinda things. Something about a dead girl, or somesuch. It looked OK.

But that wasn’t what it was about.

No, this beast channels the spirit of Dashiell Hammett, with the kid from Third Rock doing a DAMN GOOD Bogie. Damn, the dialogue. What you can understand it, because its all deadpan and coming at you a mile a minute, is brilliant. Gems like
“Brendan Frye: Emily said four words I didn’t know. Tell me if they catch. Brick?
The Brain: No.
Brendan Frye: Or Bad Brick?
The Brain: Nope.
Brendan Frye: Tug?
The Brain: Tug? Tug might be a drink, like milk and vodka, or something.
Brendan Frye: Poor Frisco?
The Brain: Frisco? Frisco Farr was a sophomore last year, real trash. Maybe had a class a week, I didn’t know him then, haven’t seen him around.
Brendan Frye: Pin?
The Brain: Pin. The Pin?
Brendan Frye: The Pin, yeah?
The Brain: The Pin is kinda a local spook story, yeah know the King Pin.
Brendan Frye: Yeah, I’ve heard it.
The Brain: Same thing, he’s supposed to be old, like 26. Lives in town.
Brendan Frye: Dope runner, right?
The Brain: Big time. See the Pin pipes it from the lowest scraper for Brad Bramish to sell, maybe. Ask any dope rat where their junk sprang and they’ll say they scraped it from that, who scored it from this, who bought it off so, and after four or five connections the list always ends with The Pin. But I bet you, if you got every rat in town together and said “Show your hands” if any of them’ve actually seen The Pin, you’d get a crowd of full pockets.
Brendan Frye: You think The Pin’s just a tale to take whatever heat?
The Brain: Hmm… So what’s first?
Brendan Frye: Show of hands. “

Freakin awesome. Go see it just for that, if you have to.

You know what sealed it for me, tho? Out of nowhere, the end credits smack you upside the head with Velvet Underground’s Sister Ray. Yep, 2.5 hours of sunny California high school pulp noir, and you get rewarded with the noisiest music from the ’60s on the black screen. Excellent.

I may actually have to buy this movie.