Doctor, I think I got the Shakes

Have you lost your faith in music?  You think there's nothing new that can make you feel anymore?  I recommend getting a prescription for the Shakes, the Alabama Shakes that is; the newest band to pound the pavement with their brand of sultry, Southern Soul.

I first heard about the Alabama Shakes when they were guests on the Sound Opinions podcast.  The past few weeks I've been indulging in my newest obsession, podcasts.  Now, I've been a devoted fan of the medium for several years, This American Life has been a weekly (or more) ritual for close to seven years now.  Recently, I've discovered several pop culture and film themed podcasts that I've been listening to as fast as I can download them.  This has cut into my music listening considerably.  This includes listing to the Sound Opinions show, because they focus on music news and review new music.  Preferring the discussion between a few people to the sway of a rhythm is something new for me, but that's just where my tastes lie right now.

This last week I decided to give the film talk a rest and see what was new with my good friends Greg Kott and Jim Derogatis as they interviewed this band who I was totally unfamiliar with.  Their first song, "Hold On", didn't take me by surprise but it did grow on me.  The band had a thick and mellow instrumentation but it was the singer, Brittany Howard, who made me perk up my ears.  Her huskey croon was very mature and so unique to hear.  It was equally satisfying when it was reeled in or pushed to the max.  By the end of the song I was hooked.  By the end of their set I was a fan.  Jim Derogatis's reaction after the last tone sounded was, "Yikes!"  The song was "You Ain't Alone."  Howard's voice was like a freight train, unstoppable and equally as moving.

I knew I had to get a hold of their record, Boys & Girls, and as soon as I did I knew it was going to be one of the best of the year.  It opens up with "Hold On", and this time I appreciated it for the modern classic that it's destined to be.  Howard pleads during the chorus to "hold on."  Is she begging for herself or is this for our benefit?  The guitar licks on this song, provided by Heath Fog, are so simple but work so well.  They move the listener through the song like boat on a river, the high notes like peaks on mild, choppy waves.

It's followed by a track that is so seeped in the feel of old Soul Blues you'd think that it was pulled directly from a scratchy 45.  "I Found You" is one of those rare songs works well for both slow and fast dancing, lending itself to any moment that arises.  Howard sings of how long we've traveled and waited just to find that certain person and what that person does to change our life.  Such a familiar subject to us all.

The third song, "Hang Loose" rolls in with a groan like it was started from a dead stop on a turntable.  The groove is undeniable and this is by far the catchiest song on the record.  It's pure pop, but there ain't nothing wrong with that.  A sprinkle of sweet goes a long way to make this a great listen.  The main riff will get stuck in your head for days and Howard's cries on the chorus make it more meaningful than your standard pop hit.

I could go on or I could wrap this up so that you can go pick this up.  The entire album plays out like the first three tracks; simple, soulful and straight to the matter.  It's rare for me to find music that instantly hits me at my core.  Usually it takes me a few spins to really get into an album.  Brittany Howard's voice and the instrumentation by Fogg, bassist Zac Cockrell and drummer Steve Johnson swirl together for the perfect combination of music so accessible yet so affecting.  Whatever your format you prefer, whether it's CD, vinyl, MP3, legal or illegal, you have to get this ASAP.

Community is back, at long last.

I feel fantastic. The past couple of weeks have been some of the best in a long time. God has recently blessed me with just one thing that I have asked for, the return of Community. The last time that you caught up with me I was in the throes of sadness as Community was literally ripped from NBC’s Thursday night schedule and put on “hiatus.” With almost no warning, myself and thousands of others lost what brings them so much joy from week to week. If that wasn’t bad enough, we weren’t even given a firm date as to when we could expect it’s return. There were even rumors that it would even be canceled outright. With two (and a half) seasons and a movie to go until its goal, Community was definitely in a dire situation.

And yet, we survived. More importantly we prevailed. We lived our Community-less lives enduring painful and sometimes humorless blocks of Must See TV. We cursed Whitney and its proprietors. Why couldn’t she have gotten the ax? But most of all, those cherished box sets of the first two seasons found new life as our only connection to what we love.

After the pain lessened and a scab had formed, the time had come to let our voices be heard. Just cause our show was gone didn’t mean we had to shut up about it. We filled forums with our rants, speculations and pleading. Todd VanDerWerff, of the A.V. Club even posted the address of the most useful NBC associate to send a letter of protest to, if so inclined. But mostly this down time gave us time to regroup, as fans, and encourage others to check out the show, to proselytize, if you will. I did more than my part, to a few of my friend’s detriment. Hopefully we convinced a few people how enriching Community can be. What I know now is that our community (pun very much intended) is stronger than ever.

Perhaps they’re bringing it back just to keep us quiet (their error, this is just going to make us louder than before) or perhaps we convinced someone, or someones to give in and give us what we want. Whatever the reason, we are getting it back and how happy this makes me. At the time of this writing, there are only 21 hours, 26 Minutes and a handful of seconds to wait until we can laugh again. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready.

Bad News for Community

You may be happy to see that I have returned from the war but it’s only bad news that I bring. Last night I found out from these two sources that Community, the NBC comedy beloved by way too few, has been taken out of rotation for the mid-season comedy block on Thursday nights. In fact it has been removed completely and won’t be airing in January. Those reporting that are closer to the source of this news are saying that this is by no means a cancelation of the show, it’s just being put on hiatus; an academic leave of absence, if you will.

When I read this I immediately cursed the gods responsible and rent my garments in dramatic biblical fashion. I wanted to ask the question how could NBC be so dastardly as to allow this injustice but that would be unfair, I understand the demands of the bottom line. The question that I asked instead was how we, as a television consuming public, could ignore such a fantastic show as to allow this to happen.

Let me tell you a story about a quaint little show on a not so little network that I will refer to as “Apprehended Advancement.” This little show premiered to gushing reviews from critics. It continued to garner praise throughout its life even winning several awards for its unique comedy. The problem was that no one saw the unique comedy because it was hardly watched. Ratings for it were criminally low and in its third and last season experienced the “schedule shuffle,” a horrible event for any show. A strange thing began to happen after it was canceled, it became a cult favorite. DVD sales began to rise and a lot of people started to watch the show and nowadays everyone likes this show. I’m not talking about many of my friends and a bunch of people I talk TV with, I’m talking about everyone. Everyone absolutely loves this show.

Now, you can probably guess that I’m talking about Arrested Development, one of the most beloved shows of TV lovers. They way Arrested Development became a forgotten oddity to a pop culture legend has always been a mystery to me. I’ll be honest and say that I found the show like I’m sure 75% of other people found the show, on DVD after the fact. I too love that show like I love few others, and I know that might annoy those that were on board at day one. It makes us appear as trendsters, jumping on the trend train when we see everyone else doing it.

This is why I’m reaching out to all of you. I’m guessing, based solely on statistics, that many of you do not watch Community on a regular basis, if you’ve seen an episode at all. I want to convince you to start watching this gem, this diamond in the rough before it’s too late. You think that it will never be too late, “I’ll watch it later,” you say. But do you know what will happen? Community will be canceled and then two, maybe three years will pass before it will become a sensation that everyone starts talking about. You will check it out and will find how amazing it is. In between bouts of laughter you’ll squeal, “Why did they ever cancel this show? It’s so funny!” They canceled it because you didn’t watch it. Do you really want to be that guy? That guy who is once again late to the party?

I am curious as the reasons that people don’t watch Community, very curious. I’m reaching out because I want to help you. Please, help me help you. Tell me what you need; what you don’t understand and I will assist you. Let me promise that you will adore this show if you give it a chance, and right now it needs a big chance. Critics love it, fans who love it love it, and you can too. What more would you like, an invitation? Well here it is,

Dear Sir or Madam,

You are cordially invited to attend a viewing of Community
When: Thursday’s at 8:00 pm
Where: Your place

RSVP’s are not needed

Sincerely,

Life in con.txt

New Look, does it work?

How do you like the new look? More specifically, how does it make you feel, if anything at all. Please communicate.

An Update

I feel like I owe my readers some context regarding life in con.txt, especially coming of the heels of the positively thrilling cliffhanger that I left you all with. I'm sure that you're simply chomping at the bit to know the deep nuances of The Tree of Life, however I have some bad news. This will have to wait. I am truly sorry that I didn't have the essays up for the week of the release (mainly sorry to myself) but I wasn't aware at the scope of the project that I undertook. I have them in progress but I kinda lost steam and took a break from it all.

"Oh! Why, why, why won't you have them up soon?" you are no doubt asking yourselves right this very moment. Well the excuse is not a very good one, but the midnight release of Battlefield 3 is happening tonight and a little more than a week from then Call of Duty: Modern Warefare 3 will be released as well. My addiction to fragging fools, stomping campers and blowing crap up will be satisfied big time while time devoted to other (i.e. more productive things) will be put on the back burner.

I know it sounds like a contradiction, an aspiring writer who's loves gaming, but that's who I am. I also know how much time they take from the day but right now I don't care. I just want to get my fight on in the virtual battle field taking names but more likely 'nades to the face.

I will not, however, stop thinking about you guys as well as this place. It is on my mind frequently as this site is very important to me. I could be persuaded to pull myself away from the heated skirmish to bang out some thoughts if so requested. But that's up to you.

Till next time.

The Tree of Life is coming soon

This coming Tuesday marks the DVD and Blu-Ray release of The Tree of Life, the latest film by auteur and tone poet Terrence Malick. Those that have closely followed this blog recently would probably guess that I like this film. I like it a lot. Seeing this movie was the most impressive cinema event that I have ever experienced, more impressive even than seeing Inception last year. Naturally I would be pretty excited about this release. I’ve been checking off the days for weeks, the question occasionally drifting in my mind. How many more days before I can own The Tree of Life? Well now the wait is just about over and soon I will be able to hold it in my hand.

And not only me, but you too can own this little masterpiece. I’d like to encourage everyone to pick this film up. I would expect it to be required viewing for cinephiles and film students, but don’t let that deter you. I think it can be enjoyed by casual viewers of all ages.

For those that are, at the very least, vaguely familiar with The Tree of Life you have no doubt heard that it was “different” or “difficult to watch.” For those of you that aren’t familiar than ignore all instances in the previous sentence of “different” and “difficult to watch” and proceed normally. The truth is that yes, it is a very unconventional film and may puzzle viewers as to how to approach it.

This is way, as a courtesy to all of you, I would like to present a series of essays analyzing and explaining this film from various critical points of view to help you get the most out of your copy of The Tree of Life. I consider myself the resident expert on this, after descending to completely obsessive levels of study (transcribing the entire film into script form). I would like to share my knowledge with all of you in hopes that you might gain an insight into something that I feel is one of the most effecting pieces of art created in the last decade.

I would wish that you, the readers, would post questions or things that you would like addressed so that I can work those in as soon as possible. Thank you.

P.S. You can get your copy here, here, or even here. Better yet you could just go down to your local store of choice and pick it up.

Book Ends

The aisles could have chosen to be more depressing but they decided to show me an amount of mercy. They stood familiar, consistent; however a change could be felt. It was there in the carpet, slowing me. It could have been that my feet were savoring each step, knowing that they would not have this opportunity very long. It could have also been that the very fibers of the fabric where reaching out, begging for me to stay, begging for me to do something. Even if I wanted to move faster, even to escape, it would not have been possible with the melancholy that beset me. This grave feeling was also resting heavily on the shelves. They bowed despite being lighter than before. They were diminished, their burden lightened, and it was the sadness of this sight that cut me to the core. The cancer that had been eating away at this mall had befallen my bookstore. Its end was near and feeling of death was profound.

I trudged through the aisles as stoically as possible but there clung to the air a darkness that ravaged me. I could feel it in my brow, furrowed as I looked up at the neon pink and green signs that read “Store Closing-25-50% Off” and “All Sales Final.” My hands were jammed into my pockets as I looked at the titles still available. I knew them all, there was nothing new. I had been here many times before. The search for specifics was long past now. At those times I was looking for something particular I did come here. If they didn’t have it, well, they didn’t have it and you moved on. I know you could always special order books if you wanted them enough, though the internet has ruined that for us long ago.

I couldn’t help but blame myself, but to what accusation must I be held accountable for? I was far from the most loyal patron, purchasing few books throughout the years. I’m a poor stiff, working at slightly above the minimum wage. New books aren’t the cheapest form of entertainment offered. When written out this excuse sounds hollow, distant maybe. Maybe I don’t believe in it enough. But this is what happens when you grieve; you find ways to relieve the pain by any means necessary.

The guilt came from feeling like such a vulture. As I filled my arms with cheap books, an institution was dying around us. The rot was visible but we were too selfish to even see it. Was it that we were making the best out of a bad situation or had we been already circling the air, waiting to pick the bones clean. There’s nothing like a liquidation sale to bring out the inner savage in us all.

One hears of these kinds of things all the time; store closings, job loss, the falling value of our money and we’re somehow naïve enough to think it will never happen to us. When it does, we want to feel special, we want people to notice; more importantly we want pity from others. If you pay close attention to the news nowadays you’d probably conclude the world had burnt in hell long ago. We’re just waiting for the ash to blow away to see the sun long enough to light the way.

It is inevitable, I guess, to see the world shut down around you, especially when you live in a town as small as mine. We live by the ideal here and as great as that sounds it doesn’t make for a pleasant reality. No one really cares for other’s ideals or dreams. We only care to get what’s ours, or what we think is ours, and leave the scraps for the other guy. We want so desperately to be good and to make other’s lives good but we fail to realize how little good there is in the world to build from.

Instead of looking for titles that I wanted to own I looked for old favorites. I checked to see if there was any Rand. I tried to think how many copies of her books I’ve bought for people. I was hurt by the fact that there were still several McCarthy books available. An author like him should be the first to go, or so I thought. I glanced cautiously toward Sci-Fi/Fantasy and wondered why this store never carried any Phillip K. Dick. I even paused at the Japanese Manga realizing there would be none to judge in the first place.

I walked around, absorbing it all. Here was a place filled with memories but even now I have a hard time drawing anything concrete from them. They are mostly shards that connect to a larger whole. As a kid running past here to the toy store, when there still was a toy store. As a teenager spending countless hours between here and the music store. And as an adult finding that the entire establishment became a place to kill time in between other engagements. It used to seem so much larger but now it is so very small.

I must be honest; I was pretty pleased with the collection I had scoured. I held them protectively, excited to have them, excited to add them to my stack when I get home. I was eager to find more pickings that others decided to overlook. It was no surprise that the Classics section was picked clean, more or less. I looked down and found a diminutive copy of Nine Stories by J.D. Salinger. I held it and noted how small it was, that you can say so much in such few words. I flipped it over to look at the price. With the discount it amounted to just a few dollars. I could have bought it and it wouldn’t have made the slightest dent in my wallet. Then I heard the voice of Holden Caulfield as if he stood right behind me. He hurled his insults, calling me a phony. And this was the truth; I was a phony, the biggest one in the building. The only reason I was here was to suck the last life out of something that once brought me pleasure. I was a scavenger, I was cheap, I was a phony and I couldn’t bring myself to add this book to the others. I slowly put it back on the shelf, continuing to look at it, trying to stare it down but I had no resolve.

I took my shame to the counter and made my final purchase. I told the cashier that I didn’t need a bag, I thought they could use it for someone else. I gathered my things and she handed me my receipt, reminding me again that all sales were final. Then she looked straight into my eyes and said, “Thank you.” The way she had said it was different than the way you usually hear it from most cashiers. It seemed gracious, as if I was doing something worthy of thanks; that I helped to salvage an industry from utter ruin. The ship was going down, of that there was no doubt, just that now it would go down slow and without remorse; like dying in your sleep or drowning. Her words became a ghost that haunted me as I went to go. They gave me a feeling of redemption that filled me as I left. I was lighter now though I can’t remember if I smiled. I can’t even remember if I looked back.

*****

A week or so later I was in the mall again and passed by the bookstore. I noticed that the gate shut and the curtain was drawn. I stood close, hoping I could glance inside but this was futile. It all seemed so very far away, like I was looking directly into the past. Like the way you can see a memory in your head but to touch it would be impossible. It’s startling how fast things fade, how quickly we stop talking about them. This store, its day was dead. I hoped that this wouldn’t have to happen anymore here. I decided to move on, both literally and figuratively. I walked away for a second time.

Thank you Stacey, for the editing