The Return of Government Cheese

August 1987. I'm fresh off the boat, er, fresh out of my Mom's car at Western Kentucky University. I'm here as a college freshman. I chose WKU because they accepted me and my C average without blinking. I'm a theatre major. You wouldn't need all of the fingers on one hand to count the number of times I've gotten laid. I'm away from home and on my own for the first time and I don't know shit about shit. I'm convinced that listening to The Smiths makes me "edgy." For some reason, I wear bolo ties and fedoras. I'm really bummed by the fact that I've successfully completed 12 years of school and have a diploma to show for it and here I am facing at least another four years of homework and studying. I just want a beer. I want to play with titties. I want to be irresponsible. One day, a friend in the theatre department says, "Hey! You wanna go to the Cheese show tonight?" That was where my college education truly began.
Bowling Green, Kentucky in the late 80's was my first exposure to a "local music scene." I may be biased, but I think ours was pretty fucking sweet. Government Cheese were our punk rock ambassadors for that music scene. When I got to WKU, their "C'mon Back to Bowling Green" EP had just been released. I bought it on cassette after that first show. It's hard to describe how much I loved that damn cassette. I was always a music kid. I bought my first 45 when I was four years old ("I Shot the Sheriff" by Clapton, in case you were wondering). I followed the bands I loved, religiously. The Cheese were a different animal. You could drink a beer with them after a show. They would talk to you. They went to the same parties I did. They were OURS. I spent one drunken night at a party doing Bobcat Goldthwait impressions with Skot Willis. This inspired in my 18 year old self a whole new level of devotion to a band.
That devotion only increased when, at some point during my freshman year, the Bowling Green city council changed the legal age to get into a club from 18 to 21. Before, if you were under 21, you could still get in the club, but you had a wristband that identified you as someone who was legally prohibited from imbibing. This was a huge blow to my career as a fledgling alcoholic. The first Cheese show after the ordinance passed, if I remember correctly, was a viewing party at Picasso's for the debut of their "Face to Face" video (which would go on to air on MTV). I showed up and stood in line, but had zero hopes of actually getting in. I thought perhaps I could just invisibly slide past the bouncer. The fact that I was wearing a bolo tie and a fedora would have made this highly unlikely. I was about three people away from the door, shaking and trembling in fear of being discovered, when Tommy Womack appeared like an angel in a blinding light akin to what St. Paul must have seen on the road to Damascus. He grabbed me by the arm, told the bouncer, "He's with me," and pulled me into the club. For an 18 year old kid from Princeton, Kentucky who fancied fedoras and thought The Cure was "deep", that kind of selfless gesture will inspire a devotion that boarders on religious fanaticism. So, for the next few years of their existence, I sacrificed my innocence and sobriety on the pagan altar of Government Cheese.
A Cheese show was LOUD, sweaty, brazen, anarchic, and just plain right. It was rock and roll as it was meant to be: dangerous with a chance of bodily harm. At some shows, audience and band would be locked in a symbiotic frenzy together, only to simultaneously collapse in a heap at the end like we had just experienced an orgy that would have put the Romans to shame. That's not to say that human decency didn't prevail at times. One of my fondest memories is a show where my glasses were knocked from my face and into the throng. Somehow, Beth Tucker(now Womack) saw this happen and, somehow, found them on the floor and rescued them for me. Beth Tucker is a wizard.
I still, to this day, listen to Government Cheese. The songs fucking hold up. If you have never heard "I Wanna Be a Man" "Nothing Feels Good" "Yellow Cling Peaches" "I Can't Make You Love Me"  "My Old Kentucky Home" or "Camping on Acid" then you need to find them and listen to them. It's some of the purest punk rock to ever come out of the south. If you can't hear the genius in a lyric like, "I know your career is important to you, but my liver is precious to me..." then you don't understand rock and roll.
This weekend, I'll be doing something I never thought I would do again. I'm going to a Government Cheese show and I'm taking my young bride-to-be, Adrian. It'll be her first exposure to The Cheese. Maybe it's true that you can't go home again, but I can at least show her the house where I had some of the greatest times of my life. Tommy, Skot, Billy Mack, Joe Elvis, and Viva...thanks for making my younger years more awesome than they had any right to be. I'll see you Saturday night.

See Government Cheese Saturday night, August 23rd at the Mercy Lounge in Nashville, TN. Tickets are on sale now.

It's More Than Just a Bad Mood, Dammit

   12 years ago my day consisted of an anti-depressant/anti-psychotic medication cocktail, three times a day, and all I did, besides let my dog out every few hours, was sit on my couch, stare at the TV and drool on myself. That's what depression looks like. I spent a few years like that. There was no, "just decide to get over it." Gee, that heart disease is really bringing us all down and making it hard to be around you, what do you say you just get over it? See how ridiculous that sounds?    If there is anything good that can come out of the death of one of my heroes, Robin Williams, it's that maybe, just fucking maybe, a few more people will understand that depression is a disease and not a mood. Everybody has bad days. Everybody gets sad. That's called being human. However, not everyone has clutched a bottle of pills, or put a rope around their necks, or held a razor blade to their wrist, or put a gun to their head and tried to think of ONE REASON to take one more breath and failed. Wake the fuck up. These are not the actions of a rational being. It's a broken mind. Trust me, your brain can break just like a bone. The chemicals in your brain can fuck you up just as much as fluid in your lungs. It's a physical fucking ailment. STOP telling people to cheer up. Listen to them and try to get them to see a doctor.
   If I sound angry, it's because I'm fucking angry. I'm heart broken and goddamn furious. If I could, I would punch Robin Williams in the face and ask him if he understands what this will do to his wife, his children, his friends, and, according to things I'm seeing posted on social media, everybody in the world who was touched by or moved to laughter by one of the myriad creative gifts he gave us. I know what it's like. I've sat with a loaded gun in my mouth and thought that everyone I cared about would be better off if I was dead. I was wrong, of course. In that moment, though...you just want the pain to stop. Depression is a demon that will eat the flesh off your bones and show you a slide show of every bad decision, every humiliation, every hurt, every embarrassment, and every mistake you've ever made while it's eating you alive. It is as ruthless as cancer.
   Performers are a strange lot...comedians in particular. Almost every artist I've ever known, was tortured to some degree( the good ones, anyway ). Most of them get depressed. Sure, we're self-involved. We can be overly dramatic. We like to take our demons out and play with them. Some of us turn them into songs. Some turn them into books. Some paint. Some of us tell jokes about them. An article I read earlier by David Wong said it better than I can, about what makes comedians tick:
   "Every time they make a joke around you, they're doing it because they instinctively and reflexively think that's what they need to do to make you like them. They're afraid that the moment the laughter stops, all that's left is that gross, awkward kid everyone hated on the playground."
   Most of our jokes come from very personal and very painful places. They are a defense mechanism. They are also how we make you like us. It's this whole "push-pull" dynamic. I love it when I'm doing stand-up and I say something that offends and shocks the audience and then whip out a punchline that makes them laugh at something they were just offended by a second ago. I am a disturbed individual. I want to control and play an audience like a piano. I want to make you lose control and laugh, even when you don't want to. For most people, family and friends are enough. Performers need that extra affirmation from complete strangers to feel validated. Why do you think I'm writing this? My fiance', Adrian, is aware of this. She will tell you that I am no day at the beach to live with sometimes. She's a singer and actress, though...so there you go.
   Ask yourself a question: "Do the people that I care about, know that they can come to me if they're depressed, or do they think that I wouldn't take them seriously or call them weak if they did?" We have got to get rid of this notion that depressed people can just snap out of it or that they are weak and just brought this on themselves. You wouldn't scream at a person suffering from a stroke to pull yourself together and to stop doing this to yourself, would you? Let people know you're there. Validate their existence. Let them know that you want and need them to be a part of this fucked up existence. Give somebody a reason to laugh and to keep on breathing. Make sure artists know how their writing, their painting, their singing, their jokes, their performances have affected you and that you appreciate them. We don't perform in a vacuum.
   Robin Williams left behind an amazing body of work. If forced to choose, I'll take "The Fisher King" as the one that speaks to me the most. I can't believe that he's gone. The powerful play will go on without him. Please, don't stop before you've completed YOUR verse. I love you guys.

" You find some wonderful things in the trash." - Parry, from The Fisher King
 
   

All You Need is Empathy

“Imagination is not only the uniquely human capacity to envision that which is not, and, therefore, the foundation of all invention and innovation. In its arguably most transformative and revelatory capacity, it is the power that enables us to empathize with humans whose experiences we have never shared.” 
― J.K. Rowling

   Burt Bacharach said that love what the world needs now. The Beatles said love was all you need. Patty Smyth said that sometimes love just ain't enough. You know what? Patty's right. Religions, civic organizations, poets, Oprah, pop music, hippies, cults, philosophers, prophets, artists, and your mom, have all been telling us since the dawn of time to love each other. It's not working. The world is still a hate-filled shit hole on a bad day and utterly indifferent on a good day. It ain't from lack of love. We love OUR families. We love OUR friends. We love OUR churches. We love OUR kind of music. We love OUR candidates. We love OUR country. We even love OUR hatred. You disagree? If people didn't get something out of hating others, then why would they continue to hate? These days, it's a lot easier to get a group of people together based on what they hate or what they're against or what they fear. Love is a real and necessary emotion, but I think what we need more these days is empathy. It's not lack of love making life suck, it's lack of empathy.
   Empathy: simply the act of seeing the world through someone else's eyes and trying understand how they feel. Look at those grown-ass people in Murietta, California holding signs and screaming at children. Now, just for a sec, put your political feelings about immigration aside. These were ADULTS...SCREAMING INSULTS...AT CHILDREN. If they had just made a conscious effort to look through the eyes of those kids, or to remember what it was like to be a kid and how intimidating and scary adults can be, maybe they would have reconsidered. Maybe not. The point is, you're less likely to hate someone(especially a child) if you put yourself in their shoes. You might never agree with them, but you might not be sent into rabid hatred at the mere sight of them.
   One thing that I have learned in my 44 years of life on this planet: Intelligent and creative people, tend to have more empathy than ignorant people. Dumb people hate more and are afraid of more than smart people. I think the comment threads on a lot of Facebook posts prove that point. Readers, in particular, seem to have more empathy for others. Here's why: Reading forces you to empathize. You are literally putting the thoughts and feelings of another person in your brain. Why do you think so many books have been banned throughout history. Those who oppose and fear change or hate those who are different or whose livelihoods depend on you staying uneducated and not thinking for yourself, have never stopped trying to keep the "wrong" books out of the hands of the "wrong" people. Ray Bradbury said, "“You don't have to burn books to destroy a culture. Just get people to stop reading them.” 
   You want to make the world a better place? Start by reading books. And not just books that reaffirm what you already know or that bolster opinions you already have. Read books that will challenge you and your beliefs. Books are magic. You can see through the eyes of the dead. You can visit every country on the planet. You can travel to places that don't exist. When you start reading a lot, a funny thing happens. You start looking at different people differently. Empathy will start to creep into your worldview. You start to look at things from different angles instead of just having the same knee-jerk reaction that you've always had.
   And THAT is what scares those in power more than anything. They want you to take their word for everything, whether it's a preacher, a politician, or anyone whose way of life depends on us never challenging what they want us to believe.  Take my favorite dip-shit of the week, Brandon Smith-R, state legislator from Kentucky. When he says that it's a proven fact that Mars and Earth share the same temperature in an attempt to prove his belief that burning coal doesn't contribute to climate change, he's counting on us to be stupid. It shows the contempt that he has for his constituents. He doesn't want people to take fifteen seconds to Google the temperature of Mars. While you're Googling that, you might also discover that Brandon owns coal mines. Shocking! People will say they want a book banned for all kinds of reasons. Profanity! Sex! Violence! Blasphemy! We need to protect the children! Don't be fooled. The main reason books are banned is because someone is afraid of the IDEAS contained in the book. "If my child reads THAT book they might not hate the gays like I do!" 
   Books create and foster empathy. There can be no real love without real empathy. You want to stick your nose into other people's lives? Stick your nose in a book.
   
   

A Hard Day's Night and the Need for Joy

"It is one of the great life-affirming landmarks of the movies." - Roger Ebert

"They were my first favorite group." - An adorable little six-year-old girl after the screening yesterday

   The Beatles, I dare say, are the only rock band, over the age of 50, still capable of inspiring such love and devotion in a six-year-old. There will simply never be another cultural phenomenon like them. Their impact and originality was such, that, much like "The Simpsons" are to animated TV shows(as "South Park" taught us), there are very few things you can do musically without the statement, "Beatles did it!" That being said, I have friends who have grown to actively despise The Beatles due to over-familiarity. I understand that feeling. I don't feel that way about The Beatles, however, there are other bands, who, through no fault of their own, have inspired hatred in me whenever I'm forced to listen to them. I could live the rest of my life without hearing "Sweet Home Alabama" or "Stairway To Heaven" or anything by Boston or Journey. (Full-disclosure: I used to be a "classic rock" DJ, so that probably has a lot to do with it. Or it's just a consequence of growing up white in 'Merica where all of the above are forced down your throat, repeatedly, like Flintstone's vitamins.) I've never felt that way about The Beatles, though(As I read once in a book about the history of rock and roll, "Not liking them is as perverse as not liking the sun.") I get it if you do. I have to ask, though...if you do, why are you still reading?

   My fiance', Adrian, and I saw the 4K restoration of "A Hard Day's Night" at the Belcourt theater in Nashville yesterday. It was the first time I saw it on the big screen. It was quite an experience. The picture quality was so insanely good that, in the final musical performances, you could see individual beads of sweat on Lennon's face. The new sound mix, by Giles Martin(son of Beatles producer, George Martin), has an immediacy to it that makes the sound of the screaming fans all-encompassing and disorienting at times. The music has never sounded better and they had the sound cranked at the theater. 

   The movie itself is one of the greatest ever made, I think. It is the cinematic equivalent of pure JOY. Directed by Richard Lester and filmed by Gilbert Taylor(who would later be DP on "Star Wars"...just sayin') the film broke new ground with it's use of hand-held camera work and editing. Every movie about music that followed borrowed it's techniques. It created a new cinematic language. All this, from a relatively low-budget film that was made to cash in on the worldwide success of The Beatles. The Fab Four weren't just another "pop group", though. They didn't want their name on anything "dead grotty." The screenplay, by Alun Owen, gave the guys a lot of funny one-liners, however, when filming began and the makers saw how naturally funny they were, more lines were written. Apart from the music, the movie is essentially a comedy and every single Beatle shows a remarkable gift for comic timing and dry, sarcastic wit. Seriously, if that whole "music" thing hadn't have worked out, they could have gone into sketch comedy. Lennon's "I declare this bridge...open" gag got a huge laugh in the theater.

   Other highlights: George's scene with the trendy TV producer("...when she's on, you turn the sound down and say rude things."). Ringo's parading scene. Paul at the press conference("...we're just good friends"). The cleanliness of Paul's grandfather. Lennon playing with boats in the tub. The "Can't Buy Me Love" sequence. Every single song on the soundtrack.

   I mentioned "joy" earlier. The film captures how it feels to be young and how it feels to have "fun" be your number one motivation for anything. I was born five years after the film was released, so I can't speak from experience, but I'm willing to bet that when kids of the period saw it, their perception changed a little bit. Don't forget, The Beatles were controversial for everything from their music to their haircuts. Rock and roll still wasn't considered "real music" at the time. Imagine being told by your parents or preacher or any authority figure that The Beatles were evil and rock music was evil and it was almost "satanic" in it's perversity. Then, you go see this movie and you see the truth and you smile all the way through it and it captures exactly how you feel about life and legitimizes all of those thoughts you've had that you were told were "bad" and you walk out of the theater and you see the world through new eyes and just maybe, for the first time in your life you start to realize that, not always, but sometimes Mom, Dad, the schoolteacher, and the preacher on Sunday morning are full of shit. 

   As I sat in the theater, holding my fiance's hand and letting the movie wash over me, I started to cry. The tears were a mixture of joy and sadness. Joy for how perfect a work of art this film is and how great the songs are and how lucky I was to be sitting there and experiencing it with the woman I love. Sadness because John and George are no longer with us and because I knew the innocence and fun that the film represents gives way to adulthood and age. The Beatles grew up and broke apart. The '60's ended in death and destruction. We get older and life throws things at us with the chaotic ferocity of a madman. Thanks to movies like "A Hard Day's Night", we can return and remember what it was like to be young and filled with joy and as long as we can return to that, then there still might be hope for us.

 

HAVE YOU BEEN A GOOD BOY? Elvis Costello Touches Himself and Everybody Else

NOTE: The following is the first in a series I'm writing about my favorite albums. I'll get back to my greatest movies, eventually...no, really...I promise. Oh, and for the musically geeky who are reading this, I'm using the original British version of the album with the running order by Costello, himself, before Columbia fucked with it for it's American version.

   "This Year's Model" is an album I know front to back, top to bottom. It's been a part of my life for years. I'm still not burned out on it. It's Elvis Costello's second album and his first with The Attractions. The cover shows Costello behind a camera as a photographer that would make anyone feel uncomfortable as they were posing. There's plenty on the album to make you uncomfortable, as well. That's not really surprising, when you consider that one of the main things the album is about is masturbation. Not just your run-of-the-mill pocket pull, though. Costello uses jerking off almost as a political statement, as a way to keep all of the hurt and pain that the world and other people bring at bay. 

   Don't believe me? The first song is called "No Action" and the opening line (just Costello's voice, no music) is, "I don't want to kiss you. I don't wanna touch." Listen to the way he draws out the word "touch" until it's dripping with disgust and derision and the Attractions literally explode like an orgasm behind him. From that point on, Costello plays the part of the nerdy, intellectual asshole who only acts that way because of how badly he's been hurt in the past and that "I'm smarter than you and I don't give a shit about anything" attitude is the armor that protects him. (I know that guy REALLY well...maybe too well.) Another line from "No Action" is very telling, "...then the things in my HEAD start hurting my mind." An ordinary songwriter would probably say "heart" instead of "head" in that lyric. Not Elvis. "You might mess with my brain, but you'll NEVER touch my heart," he's saying. It's bullshit, of course, but image over substance is another great theme of "Model."

   Next up is "This Year's Girl." It's one of the most disturbing songs ever written about the woman as sex symbol. Every year offers up another actress/super model/porn star that becomes the national object of desire and what do we use those women for, guys? Yep. We do. Costello lays bare, in brutal detail, the effects of dehumanizing another human being for selfish and sexual gratification. "You want her broken with her mouth wide open, 'cause she's this year's girl," is an ugly, but honest lyric. The song is totally against the objectification it portrays and holds up a mirror to all of us and says, "Those are real people underneath those media images." 

   Feeling guilty? Good! You're now ready for the  first absolute masterpiece on the album, "The Beat." (masturbation, again? But of course!) It's a song about guilt, paranoia, oral sex, sexual panic, peer pressure, and, yes, masturbation. It captures all of this in three minutes and forty-five seconds. "On the beat, 'til a man comes along and he say's, 'Have you been a good boy, never played with your toy? Though you never enjoy, it's such a pleasure to employ.'" Is there anybody reading this who didn't feel guilty about playing with themselves when they were first starting out? No? Didn't think so. This song captures that feeling like none I've heard before or since. The Attractions provide the perfect soundscape for the words. Nice and relaxed on the verses and hard and driving on the chorus. Pete Thomas' drums and Bruce Thomas' bass gallop and chug through the choruses, while Steve Nieve's keyboards both carry and comment on the melody. The song reaches it's climax when Costello admits, "I don't wanna be your lover. I just wanna be your victim." He says "lover" the way some people would say "liver" and says "victim " like it's a synonym for "hero." We've all been there, whether we want to admit it or not. We all went through that adolescent stage where getting your heart broken was a brave and romantic thing to strive for, so we could wallow in all our misery and angst and write bad poetry. Some people carry it over into adulthood. Some people make a career out of it. Hello, Morrisey. Feeling down, today? (Let me state, for the record, that I am, in fact, a huge fan of The Smiths.) Anyway, "The Beat" perfectly encapsulates that feeling when authority tells you that you're too young for sex and, oh, by the way, touching yourself is a sin and you should be ashamed.

   "Pump It Up" announces itself with a pumping drumbeat and bass riff, before launching into some kind of batshit organ/guitar figure that is the aural equivalent of the dance that Crispin Glover does in "Friday the 13th Part Four: The Final Chapter." It's one of Costello's most well-known and best songs and he still performs it live to this day. Best Line: "No use wishing now for any other sin." Foiled again. No action. Might as well go home and pump it up.

   Next up is the almost-but-not-quite country song, "Little Triggers," followed by the headlong rush that is "You Belong To Me." The latter has one of the most disquieting images for oral sex in the history of songs that have words about blow jobs: "Your eyes are absent. You mouth is silent, pumping like a fire hydrant. The things you see are getting hard to swallow." The narrator of the song is, again, trying to make us think he's above all of this relationship stuff. "I don't want anybody saying, 'You belong to me.'" Hey, when they won't let you into the club, stand outside and make fun of the club.

   "Hand in Hand" "(I Don't Want To Go To) Chelsea" "Lip Service" and "Living in Paradise" are all great songs, ("Chelsea's" guitar riff is one Costello's best and "Paradise's" drunk almost-reggae and lyrics about voyeuristic jealousy are highlights. "You think that I don't know the boy that you're touching, but I'll be at the video and I will be watching," from "Paradise" is both incredibly creepy and furthers the theme of watching life instead participating in it) but I want to move on to the second absolute masterpiece on the album and it's best song. "Lipstick Vogue" presents us with the same sensitive jerk from all of the preceding songs, but now he has actually fallen in love with a real person and she's breaking his heart. It reminds me of the lyrics from Costello's "(The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes." "I said, 'I'm so happy, I could die.' She said, 'Drop dead,' then left with another guy." "Lipstick Vogue" motors by like a freight train. The Attractions play like furious fucking demons. The song begins with Costello pleading with his partner, "Don't say you love if it's just a rumor. Don't say a word if there is any doubt." He has finally let someone into his heart and not just his head and that person is beginning to question their feelings for him. "Sometimes I think that love is just a tumor and you've got to cut it out," is the next line. You can avoid feelings all you want, but when you let your guard down and actually give in to those feelings and open yourself up to another person, instead of staying alone and fantasizing, it takes fucking surgery to let those feelings go and it always gets bloody and messy. The lyric, "Sometimes I almost feel just like a human being," sums up everything that is great about this album and Costello's songwriting. In the chorus he cries, "It's YOU! Not just another mouth in a lipstick vogue." I fell in love with YOU. I don't want any of those other girls, the real ones or the ones in the magazines. I just want YOU. "Maybe they told you you were only a girl in a million.You say I got no feelings, well this is a good way to kill them." The asshole who claimed to never have any feelings is paying the price for the choices he made. His past is biting him in the ass. He's feeling way too human, now. I suggest when you listen to this song, you turn it up LOUD.

   The album closes with the purely political, "Night Rally." At first, it might seem that this fascist nightmare of a song is out of place on an album that is all about relationship politics. I think what Costello is saying, ultimately, is that the people who are dictatorial in their personal relationships are going to be dictatorial in their political views, as well. It's a warning. Let your lovers rule over and intimidate you and you'll let authority do the same thing. Also, even though the album was released in 1978, I can't listen to this song without picturing modern day Tea Party rallies. "Everybody's singing with their hands on their hearts about deeds done in the darkest hours" and "...the corporation logo is flashing on and off in the sky" and "You think they're so dumb, you think they're so funny, wait until they've got you running to the night rally." Politics and relationships are scary as hell. Do we take the chance and get involved with them? Or do we just stay home and...well, you know.

 

HOUSING album review

"Communication is breaking down." 

   That lyric perfectly sums up the eponymously titled first album from Housing. Listening to the album, you get the feeling of a lost soul trying desperately to connect with something, anything. It's a cold and lonely landscape, but also beautiful and hopeful. 

   Housing is made up of:

Cory Greene-Bass

Devin Metzger-Guitar/Vocals

Justin Pennington-Drums

Paul Wurth-Guitar/Vocals

   From the opening chords, as the first voice comes fading in, the music reflects the feelings of alienation and disconnect that the lyrics describe. "Talking backwards...spun out of control...we can't hear you...stuck in limbo...should I just stop asking questions?" are just some of the phrases that come floating up as Wurth's voice sounds like a conscience looking for someone to call home. The music matches the feeling of unease, moving in fits and starts from full throttle guitar rock to quieter and more melancholy sounds.

   Housing is the perfect name for the band and the album. Housing is not home. Home is comforting and a place where you always belong. Housing is a last resort or something you're forced into or a holding pen until you find something permanent. The world this album creates is one of that middle place where we all find ourselves sometimes when we're adrift and nothing feels anchored. We're not where we belong and we know it. The words and music on Housing create that kind of off-kilter sense of being adrift.
   Don't get me wrong, though. The album rocks like a bitch. The one-two punch of "Waist Side" and "The Setup" are going to sound really good blasting out of my car speakers this summer. "Waist Side" in particular, employs a monster beat and lyrics dripping with contempt that carry you, headlong, all the way to final "Fuck you!" at the end. There's never a moment when there isn't something interesting happening on the album: From the melodic chorus of "Counting Clean" to the otherwordly backing vocals on the atmospheric "Soft." The album was recorded and mixed by Shelby Preklas at Loud and Clear Studios and the sound is amazing. The guy knows how to mix a rock and roll album.
   The album closes with the nine-minute "Nice Man." I'm not a huge fan of long songs. They're usually just endless noodling and end up sounding like the band is just playing with itself. Dammit if this long ass song doesn't have a structure that holds my attention for it's entirety, though. From Greene's opening bass riff to the last few seconds when the vocals and the melody come crashing back in, it's riveting. If it were a movie, it'd be 70mm cinemascope. The same could be said for the whole album.
Housing is available on iTunes.

What Do You Want?

“Who does not see that the same authority which can establish Christianity, in exclusion of all other religions, may establish with the same ease any particular sect of Christians, in exclusion of all other sects?" - James Madison

   I have a question for Christians. Not all of you, just the ones who keep perpetuating the myth that this is a Christian nation and that our government is based on "Christian values." The ones who think that God Himself had a hand in writing our Constitution, even though He is not mentioned in it not even once. The question is this: What do you want? What. Do. You. Want?

   What kind of government is it that you're envisioning? Because let me tell you that if you search history for governments built upon religions, they don't have a great track record. I'm pretty sure the founders knew this. They were smart guys. They actually studied history. They didn't have FOX News to tell them what to think. Thomas Jefferson wrote,  “History, I believe, furnishes no example of a priest-ridden people maintaining a free civil government. This marks the lowest grade of ignorance of which their civil as well as religious leaders will always avail themselves for their own purposes.”

   Let's say, for shits and giggles, that we alter our Constitution and proclaim, legally, that the United States of America is a Christian nation and Christianity is our state religion. Tell me, true believers, are you going to trust the establishment of that most personal of beliefs, your faith, to someone like Mitch McConnell? Do you really want decisions affecting your entire belief system to be in the hands of Nancy Pelosi? 

   By the way, which one of the estimated 1,500 denominations in America are we going to go with? You can't get a group of Baptists to agree on what temperature to set the thermostat on in the sanctuary. Let's throw Catholics, Methodists, Baptists, Pentecostals, Presbyterians, and Mormons in a room and tell them to come up with "the rules." Trust me, people are going to leave that room bloody. If the Pentecostals get their way, are you okay with wearing denim skirts for the rest of your lives, ladies? Oh, and I guarantee that some of you are thinking, "You shouldn't have included Mormons on that list." See, I was raised in a Baptist church and I was taught that the Mormons were a heathen and blasphemous cult. Funny, how so many Christians who believe that had zero problem voting for a Mormon for president. New joke: How do you get a Christian to vote for a cult member? Run him against a black guy!

   Whatever sect of Christianity you align yourself with, you have to know somewhere deep down inside you that the establishment of a state religion goes against EVERYTHING that our founder's fought for and is unconstitutional on the most basic and remedial level. I know that you dream of this utopia where everyone shares your faith and everyone fellowships together and prays together. Guess what? That place exists. You attend it every Sunday. Why is that not enough? What do you want? If Christianity becomes the law, I promise you, it's not going to be the "version" of Christianity that you have in your head. It's going to look more Iran. Ask people who have gotten the hell out of there what living under a state-sponsored religion is like.

   From Christianity Today: 78% of Americans identify themselves as Christians. The next largest percentage is Judaism and Islam. Combined, they represent less than three percent of the United States population. That's great news, Christians! You are not alone and there is no war against you in 'Merica, no matter what Bill O'Reilly says. Stop whining and bitching and moaning like petulant children, just because the First Amendment, that guarantees you the right to believe and worship as you please, also means that you are occasionally going to see things that offend you or that you disagree with and that you have to at least tolerate all those people who believe differently than you. All those things, DO NOT equal persecution, by the way. 

   The thing about living in a democracy is that it's the majority's responsibility to make sure the minority enjoys the same rights as they do. You are the majority, Christians. One more question: What will you do?

Us vs. Them-The Genius of Harold Ramis

   When discussing the films of Harold Ramis, one of the things you hear over and over is the phrase "the slobs vs. the snobs" or some similar variation. That's not an accurate description. I would describe them as "the smart guys vs. the world." From "National Lampoon's Animal House" to "Ghostbusters" we see stories of smart people going up against the status quo, social conventions, and authority figures and winning because they're smarter than everyone else and because they give not a shit about what the rest of the world thinks of them. In the case of "Ghostbusters," the fact that they save that world only makes them more noble and heroic.
   Ramis was a triple threat in the comedy world. He wrote, he acted, he directed. Of the films he directed, acted in, or wrote, I would have to name "Ghostbusters" as my favorite. No, wait..."Groundhog Day." Scratch that. "Caddyshack" is definitely my favorite. Shit...I forgot about "National Lampoon's Vacation." "National Lampoon's Animal House" is right there as well. I can't forget "Stripes" either. Okay...I loved them all, dammit. Each and every one of them. Love, love, love. Those movies were part of my comedic education and if you can't laugh at those films and see the genius on display, then you simply do not understand comedy and should probably keep your opinions to yourself, lest you sound like a complete and utter douche nozzle.
   The age old theme of the underdog coming out on top runs through a lot of Ramis' films. His underdogs are unique, though, in that the reason they're underdogs is that they refuse to play by society's rules and usually take great pleasure destroying that society, not for financial gain or for political power, but because...well, because it's there and we're smart and we can do it. "I think that this situation absolutely requires a really stupid and futile gesture be done on somebody's part," says Otter in "Animal House." Remember the chant in "Meatballs?" "It just doesn't matter!" At the end of "Animal House" the Deltas destroy the town. In "Caddyshack", the country club's golf course is blown to shit. "Stripes" ends with Ramis and Bill Murray blowing up Russia. Why? A really stupid and futile gesture is sometimes the only response to a stupid and futile world.
   His movies aren't all anarchy, however. I will defend "Groundhog Day" as one of the best love stories ever made. "Multiplicity" is underrated and is probably the one movie that allowed Michael Keaton to put all of his "Keatoness" on display. "Analyze This" is a mob comedy about a mobster going to psychotherapy. There is no way that movie didn't plant the seed for "The Sopranos" in David Chase's head.
  "There’s a personal story of my own that I will write at some point, and it’s a film that I will happily make," Ramis said not too long ago. Death has robbed us of that film. His films are our's forever, though. I've watched them many times when I needed a laugh, or felt down, or needed inspiration. His movies stand up to repeated viewings like no one else's.  He was one of the greats. I put him on the same list as Chaplin, Groucho Marx, and Mel Brooks. I'll be watching all of his movies very soon, because in the words of Stork from "Animal House," "What the hell are we 'sposed to do you moron?"

The Chin That Wouldn't Die

   Last night, Jay Leno said goodbye ( for reals this time ) after a 22 year run as host of "The Tonight Show." The best thing I can say about it is this: It was nice. Just like everything Jay ever did on that show. Nice. When people describe Jay, you will hear the word "nice" a lot. As a person, I have no problem with this. The world sure as hell could use more nice people. As a comedian, though, I don't want "nice." If the best thing you can say about a comedian is, "He/she was nice," then they aren't really doing their job as a comedian. Groucho Marx or Richard Pryor were never described as "nice."
   Talk show hosts are a different story. Jay has proven that being a "nice" talk show host will reap you millions and all the classic cars you could ever want to tinker with. I know I'm in the minority here, but I was never a huge Leno fan. I'm a Letterman guy to the death. Dave is the antithesis of "nice." The thing that always impressed me most about Jay was how he could sit next to vapid celebrities night after night and appear enthusiastic about it. If you can sit next to Snooki more than once and actually look interested in what she has to say, then you have a rare talent, my friend. David Letterman has never tried to hide his disdain for all things "celebrity."
   The Letterman show's number one priority was always comedy. The Leno show's priority was always the guests. Therein lies the difference. An example: When Hugh Grant was caught with a hooker, he went on Jay's show to do penance, because, God forbid, that guy in those romantic movies should turn out to be human. Jay's first question: "What were you thinking?" America laughs. We can all relax now. Over on Dave's show, he had America's Sweetheart Julia Roberts on after she had been through a public break-up. Dave told her that bandleader Paul Shaffer had a question for her. Paul asks, "So Julia...you getting any?" It's rude, obnoxious, and, most importantly, funny as shit. That in a nutshell is why I love Dave.
   Here's a weird fact about me: Whenever I think about the Leno show, the first thing that pops into my head are those damn "Dancing Itos" that Jay always had as a bit during the OJ Simpson trial. Judge Ito was presiding over the trial and every night, Jay would trot out these guys dressed in judge's robes to dance a little jig. I'm a comedian and you could hold a gun to my head and I couldn't tell you why people thought that was funny. Be honest...neither could you. Dave did, and does, a lot of absurd bits. Monkey-cam, Stupid Pet Tricks, Is This Anything?, Will It Float?, dropping stuff off a building. That is some absurd shit. There's a difference between absurd and pointless, however.
   Look, I'm not trying to bash Jay. He is beloved by millions. He always won the ratings battle over Dave. ( It needs to be noted, however, that Jay became known, primarily, because of his frequent appearances on Dave's "Late Night" show when it followed Johnny Carson. ) It's just a my opinion. I think Dave going to door to door with Siskel and Ebert and asking people if they need any yard work done is funnier than "Jaywalking."  Jay's final show was as uneventful and inoffensive as all of his shows were. That was his secret: send America to bed without ruffling any feathers and remember that the show is the most important thing. Dave thinks the whole concept of a "talk show" is a joke and treats it as such. Dave doesn't care if you go to bed comfortable.
   I didn't feel any emotion as I watched Jay's last hurrah. As a matter of fact, there have been only two times I've gotten emotional watching a talk show. First was watching Johnny Carson tear up as Bette Midler sang on his final night on "The Tonight Show." ( THAT was a historic moment. ) Second, I was watching Dave one night and he began doing monologue jokes concerning events that had happened a year or two years before. I thought at first that it was a rerun, even though it was supposed to be a new show. After doing these jokes, Dave let it be known that all of those jokes had been written by Johnny Carson, who had been writing jokes for Dave and sending them to him for years after he had retired. Johnny had just passed away. It was one of the most moving things I've ever seen on television. And proof that Johnny thought Dave was funnier, too.
 
   
 

Racism Is Dumb

   When I was in high school, I knew a guy who was horribly, obnoxiously racist. I asked him about the reasons for his hatred one day. "A couple of black guys jumped me one time and beat the shit out of me. I've never forgotten it." It was a dumb reason to give. Besides the fact that this guy thought the two gentlemen who beat his ass were representatives of the entire African-American community, he also didn't seem to have a problem forgetting the numerous lily-white gentlemen who had beat his ass over the years. Trust me. There were way more of them. The kid was an asshole. His whole "mean black people beat me up" story was nothing more than a convenient excuse to keep using the word "ni**er" and to keep being awful to his black classmates.
   If the subject of race makes you uncomfortable or you think that it shouldn't be discussed at all, do us both a favor and stop reading. I can also do without the following argument:

"Gee, Todd, white people aren't the only ones who are racist!"

   REALLY? I had no idea! Look, I realize that douchebaggery knows no color, but I'm a white dude in America that thinks racism is dumb, so this is being written from the perspective of a white dude in America who thinks racism is dumb. If you want to gripe about "reverse racism" or complain about "that time a black guy looked at me funny," start your own damn blog and write away. This one is mine.
   I mentioned that I'm white. I'm not proud of this fact. I'm not ashamed of it either. It's not like I had a choice in the matter. I'm indifferent. Accomplishment makes me proud. If I make it to the end of this piece with no misspellings or grammatical errors, I'll be the proudest white man you ever saw. I, however, have zero problem with African-Americans proclaiming, as James Brown once said, "I'm black and I'm proud."  You need a self-esteem boost when you live in a country that once characterized your whole race as "property" and "less than human" as a matter of law. I also want to punch dumb white people in the face when they talk about blacks "getting over" slavery. I have actually seen a grown man dressed as a confederate soldier for a Civil War reenactment complain that, "Blacks need to get over slavery." If the irony of that escapes you, stop reading this. Might I suggest "Family Circus?"
   If you think racism doesn't exist anymore, spend a day with me. If I were to write a post every time I heard someone say "ni**er" I'd be accused of spamming. I wish I were making this up. When I hear that hateful, fucked-up word, it's almost always in the context of someone complaining about our President (I also hear it a lot in hip-hop, but if rappers want to use the word as a "fuck you" to Whitey, who am I tell them no?) . They give me a conspiratorial look, usually accompanied by a elbow in my side as they assume I must share their hatred and disgust because we share the same skin tone and tell me what they "really" think about President Obama.
   Is everyone who dislikes the President a racist? No. That would be a stupid argument to make. That does not mean, however, that everyone who dislikes the President is automatically NOT a racist. Everyone who disagrees with the Presidents policies is not dumb, either, although there is that element as well. It's VERY simple to tell who is who by their words.

"I think Obama is a bad president and I disagree with his policies." - Not Racist

"I think Obama is a bad president and I disagree with his policies because he's like Hitler and he wants to take my guns and send me to a FEMA camp and he's a Muslim who is going to make 'Merica into a Communist country and he's going to give himself a third term because Presidents who hate 'Merica can just do that." - Dumb

"I think Obama is a bad president and I disagree with his policies and somebody needs to shoot that ni**ger." - Racist

   If you think I'm making that last one up, you are surrounded by awesome people with normal human feelings or you're just not paying attention, because since President Obama was elected I've heard it A LOT. Ironically, from a lot of those "patriots" who used to tell me that I was un-American if I simply disagreed with President Bush during wartime. Well guess what, we still have troops in Afghanistan and Obama is our President so, you tell me what the difference is. You tell me why it's okay to insult this President's wife and make threats against his children. You tell me why the very same people who, up until the election of our first black president, would have proudly said, whether Republican or Democrat, "that you respect our Commander in Chief" but now think it's perfectly acceptable to advocate the assassination of that Commander in Chief. Conservatives and Tea Baggers can scream "race has nothing to do with it" til they're red, white, and blue in the face but, there is only one major difference between this president and all the others and that thing is the color of his skin. And that skin color has caused a large portion of the population to lose their goddamn minds. It's like some weird plot twist. America, a historically racist country, elects a black man as president and uses the black president as an excuse to be even more openly racist. I shudder to think what those people will do if we elect a woman.