To call singer/songwriter Devendra Banhart an eccentric would be an extreme understatement. At the mere age of 25, Banhart, who sports long flowing black hair, a thick beard, and often appears with a Hindu bindi on his forehead, has been described as a “hobo/minstrel” who strives to express a hippie mentality of love, peace, and unity through soft spoken words and melodies.
Having that said, it’s nearly impossible to clump Banhart into a modern genre, and he probably doesn’t belong in one. Banhart, whose music is often dubbed psych folk, Naturalismo, New Weird America, or freak-folk, is the shining star of a current folk revival movement, involving similar popular “indie” artists such as Animal Collective, Iron & Wine, and Joanna Newsom. Many liken his jarring, yet intoxicating voice and story-telling approach to lyricism to those of Bob Dylan, but Banhart has said that his inspiration comes from his parents- “older hippies, people into Eastern philosophies and New Age.”
Born in Houston, Texas in 1981, Banhart was named by an Indian mystic whom his parents followed (it translates to “king of gods” in Hindi). After his parents divorced, Banhart moved to Venezuela with his mother and spent his childhood in a violent area he describes as “insane.” When Banhart’s mother remarried, they moved to California, and he attended San Francisco Art Institute on a scholarship. Though he had been writing songs since age 12, Banhart came to a realization that he could write anything while arguing about a Rolling Stones song with his girlfriend, and shortly thereafter became a “wandering minstrel,” playing at any venue that would take him. After two years of art school, Banhart dropped out in 2000, moved to Paris, moved back to California, and was ultimately discovered by a friend of Michael Gira, the owner of Young God Records, while playing a show in L.A. “We'd never heard anything quite like him, ever,” says Gira. “His voice - a quivering high-tension wire, sounded like it could have been recorded 70 years ago.”
Banhart’s first four albums were released on Young God Records in 2003 and 2004, and his latest album, “Cripple Crow” was released on XL Recordings in 2005. One of the greatest things about Banhart’s songs is that they constantly vary in sound and lyrical subject matter without losing their luster. Though Banhart’s signature sound comprises of tinny words and acoustic guitar, the songs from his earlier albums, “Nino Rojo” and “Rejoicing in the Hands,” toy with horns, violin, and backup singers. His lyrics, which sometimes wander in and out of Spanish, often unfold like folktales, ripe with an abundance of natural imagery of things like sparrows, spiders, crabs, squid, water, islands, dogs, insects, and of course, the sun. In “We All Know” he sings, “We all know, that the wind blows, and the moon glows, and our lungs grow, we belong to the floating hand, that's made by some animals.”
“Cripple Crow,” though it seems more experimental and involved, is a slight departure from his earlier work-- a get-up-and-dance kind of departure, that is. The songs seem jazzier, more upbeat, and percussion orientated. As far as lyrics are concerned, a lot of the songs focus more heavily on the womb and children. His song “Long Haired Child” touts, “I said to all my friends when I have kids, I’m going to want the child to be a long haired child” and “Chinese Children” begins, “if I lived in China I’d have some Chinese children.” Additionally, Banhart dips his toes into political territory on this album, singing “I heard somebody say the war ended today” and “I need you to please explain the war.”
Whether he’s singing about eating breakfast, or a lazy butterfly, Banhart never disappoints. His sound is matchless- not to mention, completely refreshing in a world full of has-beens and wannabes. Banhart undoubtedly succeeds in expressing love, peace, and unity, for his songs will not only make you sing and dance, but they will make you smile-- or, more appropriately, rejoice.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Monday, April 23, 2007
The end is near
1. I can't wait to rid myself of this ridiculous schedule. May 18th couldn't come soon enough. Kim Clark and Lisa Keller can both kiss my ass.
2. I want to go to the Coney Island mermaid parade.
3. Why on earth is there a bajillion people running around yelling outside my room at 11 pm on a monday night??? Ugh.
25 days of hell left.
2. I want to go to the Coney Island mermaid parade.
3. Why on earth is there a bajillion people running around yelling outside my room at 11 pm on a monday night??? Ugh.
25 days of hell left.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Oh, and almost forgot this!
Lauren and I ran up to the stage for Michael Showalter when he made an appearance at Culture Shock yesterday. After he played songs for us from his Itunes, he exited the stage and some people got in line to meet him. Sooo, Lauren and I went up, didn't say much to him for fear of saying something retarded (I didn't even want to compliment him on his tv shows/movies because I know that pretty much everyone does that and its got to get annoying after a while), and we got our picture with him! <3
-"I want you inside me!"
Let's go Yankees!
2-0, Yankees over Red Sox...1st inning. Yeah Giambi! This is my new hat and my "Let's go Yankees!" face.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Blades of Glory movie review
One common complaint moviegoers tend to have with sports comedies is that they lack meaning and follow a completely predictable structure. True- but all of that can be easily disregarded if the movie contains the one necessary ingredient to instant, roll on the floor laughing success: Will Ferrell. Having that said, “Blades of Glory” is one of those successes.
“Blades” is a typical Ferrell film. He portrays Chazz Micheal Micheals, a hotheaded and incredibly dimwitted figure skater who, when he’s not rocking the crowd, attends sex addict meetings. Chazz is practically a carbon copy of Ferrell’s 2006 character, Ricky Bobby, champion NASCAR driver from “Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby.” Both are macho, meathead men who are on top of the world until a ridiculously absurd obstacle obstructs their path to glory. The men spend the remainder of these movies racking their tiny brains, attempting to overcome the obstacle, and eventually, after nonstop antics and wisecracks ensue, they do.
Perhaps this is the perfect formula for Ferrell, for when he strays from it we get disasters like 2005’s sports “comedy,” “Kicking and Screaming.” Ferrell, is most effective when he uses dumb, moronic humor. Take 2004’s hit “Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy” for example- people love the idiot hero. While he has attempted to tackle more serious roles in movies like Woody Allen’s 2004 “Melinda and Melinda,” Ferrell fails to pull off sincerity as well as other funny guys, like Jim Carey or Robin Williams. It’s just too hard to look at him and not slip out a chuckle.
“Blades” isn’t entirely identical to “Talladega Nights.” For one, it features a co-star: Jon Heder (a.k.a. Napoleon Dynamite). Heder plays Jimmy MacElroy, a very Naploeon-esque, child star skater whose motto is “If you can dream it, you can do it!” Right off the bat, Chazz and Jimmy’s clashing personalities result in a fistfight that eternally bans them from competing. Three years go by and a loophole in the banishment is discovered- while they may be exiled from singles skating, the men can still compete as a pair.
Most of Ferrell’s movies wouldn’t work without a quirky opponent or two, and “Blades” is no exception. Will Arnett and Amy Poehler play the creepy, incestuous Russian brother/sister skate team, Stranz and Fairchild Van Waldenberg. Hell-bent on beating Chazz and Jimmy, they blackmail their sister Katie (“The Office”’s Jenna Fischer) into devastating the newfound camaraderie. Not to worry though, Chazz and Jimmy have a secret move up their puffy spandex sleeves.
Whereas “Talladega Nights” poked fun at rednecks, “Blades” doesn’t hold back on making a few gay jokes here and there (many of the skating positions require awkward face to crotch contact). And as is common with many sports comedies, one super obsessed, psycho fan is thrown into the mix who says things like, “I just wanna cut off your skin and wear it to my birthday.” There’s no doubt about it, “Blades” is destined to be another frequently quoted Ferrell movie. With lines like, “You put the bone in Zamboni,” how can it not be?
“Blades” is a typical Ferrell film. He portrays Chazz Micheal Micheals, a hotheaded and incredibly dimwitted figure skater who, when he’s not rocking the crowd, attends sex addict meetings. Chazz is practically a carbon copy of Ferrell’s 2006 character, Ricky Bobby, champion NASCAR driver from “Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby.” Both are macho, meathead men who are on top of the world until a ridiculously absurd obstacle obstructs their path to glory. The men spend the remainder of these movies racking their tiny brains, attempting to overcome the obstacle, and eventually, after nonstop antics and wisecracks ensue, they do.
Perhaps this is the perfect formula for Ferrell, for when he strays from it we get disasters like 2005’s sports “comedy,” “Kicking and Screaming.” Ferrell, is most effective when he uses dumb, moronic humor. Take 2004’s hit “Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy” for example- people love the idiot hero. While he has attempted to tackle more serious roles in movies like Woody Allen’s 2004 “Melinda and Melinda,” Ferrell fails to pull off sincerity as well as other funny guys, like Jim Carey or Robin Williams. It’s just too hard to look at him and not slip out a chuckle.
“Blades” isn’t entirely identical to “Talladega Nights.” For one, it features a co-star: Jon Heder (a.k.a. Napoleon Dynamite). Heder plays Jimmy MacElroy, a very Naploeon-esque, child star skater whose motto is “If you can dream it, you can do it!” Right off the bat, Chazz and Jimmy’s clashing personalities result in a fistfight that eternally bans them from competing. Three years go by and a loophole in the banishment is discovered- while they may be exiled from singles skating, the men can still compete as a pair.
Most of Ferrell’s movies wouldn’t work without a quirky opponent or two, and “Blades” is no exception. Will Arnett and Amy Poehler play the creepy, incestuous Russian brother/sister skate team, Stranz and Fairchild Van Waldenberg. Hell-bent on beating Chazz and Jimmy, they blackmail their sister Katie (“The Office”’s Jenna Fischer) into devastating the newfound camaraderie. Not to worry though, Chazz and Jimmy have a secret move up their puffy spandex sleeves.
Whereas “Talladega Nights” poked fun at rednecks, “Blades” doesn’t hold back on making a few gay jokes here and there (many of the skating positions require awkward face to crotch contact). And as is common with many sports comedies, one super obsessed, psycho fan is thrown into the mix who says things like, “I just wanna cut off your skin and wear it to my birthday.” There’s no doubt about it, “Blades” is destined to be another frequently quoted Ferrell movie. With lines like, “You put the bone in Zamboni,” how can it not be?
300 movie review
Shiny, overly plump pectorals, futile sensuality, and giant deformed mutant warriors: “This is Sparta!” If director Zack Snyder’s intentions were to remake Frank Miller’s graphic novel about the 480 B.C. battle of Thermopylae into a movie devoid of all sincerity, emotion, and depth, consider “300” a victory. Though Snyder has managed to make 300 Spartans spearing the blood-gushing arms and heads off of 250,000 mindless slave Persians delicious eye candy, the narration and dialogue is never anything but flaky puff. In fact, it’s one of those movies that would probably be more enjoyable to watch on mute.
Sure, it could be argued that almost all epic comic book movies contain cheesy one-liners. Movies like “Batman,” “Spiderman,” and “X-Men,” can, at times, project cheap, heroic discourse. “300,” though, is full-on cheapness, to the point that the cheesy one-liners and over-the-top battle elements are giggle inducing. Granted, Snyder was probably not trying to make us cry or leave the theater feeling differently about life, and he did an amazing job with the visual effects (which was basically the selling point of the movie), but it just seems like there was so much potential for the characters to be more than shallow battle automatons.
Despite opposition from corrupt members of the Spartan council and premonitions of death and doom from a beautiful thrusting naked chick oracle, Spartan King Leonidas (Gerard Butler) makes a defensive decision to leave his loyal Queen Gorgo (Lena Headey) and take 300 of his finest soldiers to war against power hungry Persian King Xerxes (Rodrigo Santoro). Nothing else of substantial worth actually happens in this movie. Leonidas and his men grunt a lot, build a wall out of dead Persian slaves, fight some guys named the “Immortals” who wear really cool masks, refuse to kneel down to Xerxes, and eventually become pincushions.
Basically, the entire movie is constant spearing and blood, and if the battle scenes weren’t done as magnificently as they were, the movie would be more worthless than the hideous hunchback Spartan character who turns to the dark side after being snubbed by Leonidas. “300” has all the essential battle scene elements. Xerxes is completely jazzed out, arriving at the battleground on a behemoth set of stairs, which is carried on the backs of slaves. A tad more than slightly effeminate, he sports long gold fingernails and gold hoops and chains, which hang from random spots on his face.
Not unlike the battle scenes from the Lord of the Rings trilogy where beasts are sent out to destroy men, Xerxes unleashes mammoth rhinos and carnivorous giants. Being the typical detestable villain he is, he spends his days watching from afar as his peons quickly die off and parties with over-sexed, moaning Persian women by night.
Snyder would not be the least bit successful if his tactics were anything less than over-the-top. He takes things to extremes, he has to- and it works. His use of vivid colors against blacks and grays creates a dismal mood customary to other Frank Miller movies, like Sin City, and digital CGI techniques make ridiculously massive armies completely believable. Also, in a few scenes, like the one where the Persian messenger falls into a bottomless pit, and the one where the Persians are marched off the cliff, Snyder uses slow motion to create a frightening falling feeling.
Perhaps if its script were half as effective as its visual trickery, “300” would be the best movie ever made. But unfortunately, the main character says things like, “This is where we fight. This is where they die.” The love between Leonidas and Gorgo felt true at times, but for the most part it felt like there was much more opportunity for character development that wasn’t seized upon. Instead, boob shots and sex scenes were randomly thrown in because they could be. Though “300” may not be the best movie ever made, it’s definitely not the worst. If the recent lull in glamorous epics has left you craving mind-blowing special effects and elaborate costumes and makeup, this movie will fill you right up. Just don’t forget the earplugs.
Sure, it could be argued that almost all epic comic book movies contain cheesy one-liners. Movies like “Batman,” “Spiderman,” and “X-Men,” can, at times, project cheap, heroic discourse. “300,” though, is full-on cheapness, to the point that the cheesy one-liners and over-the-top battle elements are giggle inducing. Granted, Snyder was probably not trying to make us cry or leave the theater feeling differently about life, and he did an amazing job with the visual effects (which was basically the selling point of the movie), but it just seems like there was so much potential for the characters to be more than shallow battle automatons.
Despite opposition from corrupt members of the Spartan council and premonitions of death and doom from a beautiful thrusting naked chick oracle, Spartan King Leonidas (Gerard Butler) makes a defensive decision to leave his loyal Queen Gorgo (Lena Headey) and take 300 of his finest soldiers to war against power hungry Persian King Xerxes (Rodrigo Santoro). Nothing else of substantial worth actually happens in this movie. Leonidas and his men grunt a lot, build a wall out of dead Persian slaves, fight some guys named the “Immortals” who wear really cool masks, refuse to kneel down to Xerxes, and eventually become pincushions.
Basically, the entire movie is constant spearing and blood, and if the battle scenes weren’t done as magnificently as they were, the movie would be more worthless than the hideous hunchback Spartan character who turns to the dark side after being snubbed by Leonidas. “300” has all the essential battle scene elements. Xerxes is completely jazzed out, arriving at the battleground on a behemoth set of stairs, which is carried on the backs of slaves. A tad more than slightly effeminate, he sports long gold fingernails and gold hoops and chains, which hang from random spots on his face.
Not unlike the battle scenes from the Lord of the Rings trilogy where beasts are sent out to destroy men, Xerxes unleashes mammoth rhinos and carnivorous giants. Being the typical detestable villain he is, he spends his days watching from afar as his peons quickly die off and parties with over-sexed, moaning Persian women by night.
Snyder would not be the least bit successful if his tactics were anything less than over-the-top. He takes things to extremes, he has to- and it works. His use of vivid colors against blacks and grays creates a dismal mood customary to other Frank Miller movies, like Sin City, and digital CGI techniques make ridiculously massive armies completely believable. Also, in a few scenes, like the one where the Persian messenger falls into a bottomless pit, and the one where the Persians are marched off the cliff, Snyder uses slow motion to create a frightening falling feeling.
Perhaps if its script were half as effective as its visual trickery, “300” would be the best movie ever made. But unfortunately, the main character says things like, “This is where we fight. This is where they die.” The love between Leonidas and Gorgo felt true at times, but for the most part it felt like there was much more opportunity for character development that wasn’t seized upon. Instead, boob shots and sex scenes were randomly thrown in because they could be. Though “300” may not be the best movie ever made, it’s definitely not the worst. If the recent lull in glamorous epics has left you craving mind-blowing special effects and elaborate costumes and makeup, this movie will fill you right up. Just don’t forget the earplugs.
first post!
Hmm, i'm hoping to make this dealy a mixture between an outlet for my amusing thoughts and an outlet for my "journalistic" writing. Hopefully it will be somewhat entertaining to someone. Cheers!
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