Too busy writing to post

But here are a few links:

In place of my regular gaming post, check out Cool Mini Or Not, which is, well, exactly as advertised.

If you want to brave the elements for a show, here are some new reviews:

Talkinbroadway: Well and and Peer Gynt and the Poetry of Pizza (mmm, pizza...)

And don't forget Lost is back tomorrow. No clever links for this, but I'll buzz in with opinions after the broadcast.

Right, this public television magazine isn't going to edit itself -- as much as I would like it to.

Buffy the Torchwood Slayer?

Torchwood Series 1

(BBC Video)

Torchwood Series 2

(BBC America)

Spun off from the revitalized Doctor Who franchise, Torchwood is an X-Files type show,  though this time its set in Wales and has five smoldering characters to craft sexual tension. The first series got good numbers on cable BBC3, so the second has moved a station up to BBC2. The reaction from critics and fans was a bit more mixed.

Put me in that camp as well. There's plenty to love on Torchwood (I'll get to that in a moment), but the show has a tendency to be loud brash and "modern" at the expense of clearly told stories and well-defined characters.

However, when it clicks, Torchwood can be amazing. The show's bleak look at life on earth is one of the darkest on television. It's a world where no good deed goes unpunished.

The concept of Torchwood comes from Doctor Who. It's a secret branch of the British government that researches and protects the country from alien threats. They also scavenge what they can from what they find, often using devices that they do not fully understand. At the end of the second season of the new Doctor Who, Torchwood in London is destroyed. There are, however, other Torchwoods, including one in Cardiff. There's a "rift" in space and time there, which allows all sorts of weirdness to fall through. Captain Jack Harkness -- last seen being brought back to life in the far future at the end of the first new Doctor Who season -- is in charge. And his resurrection has gone further than that -- the Captain can't die.

He's joined by a quarter of young and hot investigators who work in semi-secret (their existence is known -- it's hard to be subtle when you have a massive SUV with "Torchwood" written on the side -- but somehow kept quiet from the general public) on cases that are both science-fictiony and fantastic. 

As I noted before, sometimes the flash gets in the way of storytelling. The "cannibals in Wales" story really doesn't make any sense, while the "alien fight club" one is so derivative and silly that it undermines the very real confusion the main characters are feeling at that point.

Yet Torchwood can also hit on all cylinders. Sapphire and Steel creator Peter Hammond works his signature, creepy magic in "Small Worlds," where Jack and the team meet up with the forces of fairie and come across a situation that they cannot "win." "Out of Time" brings three ordinary people from the 1950s forward to the 21st century and explores their culture shock and efforts to cope in a sort of reverse Life on Mars scenario. Finally, we learn some truths about the immortal and multi-sexual captain in "Capt. Jack Harkness," when he travels back in time to the 1940s and meets his namesake. The episode also features some of John Barrowman's best acting in the series -- and one of the finest and most honest gay kisses I've ever seen on television.

Season two (running Saturday nights on BBC America in the states; on BBC2 in Britain) kicks off with "Kiss, Kiss, Bang, Bang," which features the good and bad of the first series. There are lots of flash cuts and intrusive incidental music, and the plot -- well, it holds together a bit better than "Countrycide." To kick things off, James Marsters was brought in to play one of Jack's old flames. Marsters is basically playing Spike from his Buffy days, just without the vampire bit (though we never see him in daylight...) He brings a nice energy to the proceedings and it's fun to see the character again, no matter the name, but it does distract from the new chemistry of the team, which has grown since the season one finale. The creators have noticed the issues of the first series and are promising some adjustments. We'll see how that plays out over the next few months.

Riding with the truckers

There was something else this blog was supposed to cover... Oh, that's right: Music!

Drive-By Truckers Brighter Than Creation’s Dark

I’ve never hidden my love of this Alabama-based collective. Their mix of traditional southern music styles – from raging rock to blues to country to soul – with the fury and honesty of punk drew me in from the first time I heard their opus Southern Rock Opera.

Over the years, the band has gone through a number of lineup changes and stylistic shifts, but the underlying brilliance has not faded. Coming off their stellar support performance on Bettye Lavette’s The Scene of the Crime, Brighter Than Creation’s Dark finds the Truckers in another epic mood, crafting a long, complex and more-often-than-not, thrilling musical ride.

With three songwriters and vocalists, the band’s eclecticism is its calling card. What binds it all together is the excellent playing throughout, including contributions by legendary keyboardist Spooner Oldham, who helps to anchor the diffuse music into a cohesive whole.

Songwriter/vocalist Patterson Hood calls this album a “grower.” Which is more than encouraging. I already love Brighter Than Creation’s Dark. How will I feel after it “grows” on me?

Disfear Live the Storm

I could really do some shorthand with this review and just say: "Excellent Scandi-crust D-beat hardcore fronted by former At the Gates frontman Tomas Lindberg." Now, for those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, I'll take this one step at a time.

"Scandi-crust." Scandinavian-based "crust" is a particular style of punk rock that is based on heavy, metal-style riffs. The guitars are usually downtuned, which makes the music more menacing. Crust was an offshoot of the anarchist hardcore of the 1980s, with England's Amebix usually cited as the style's ground zero. Scandinavia (in this case, Sweden) has spawned tons of extreme punk and metal bands over the years, from the church-burning black metal acts to a legion of pissed-off punk rockers.

To jump ahead a bit, Tomas Lindberg seems to have been a member of all of the Swedish bands in the last decade, though it really is "only" half a dozen. At the Gates took death metal (the intense and technical style that emerged out of the 1980s thrash scene) and added enough melodies and harmonies to give the style a fresh kick. Since then, millions of bands have copied the style, but few have managed it as well as At the Gates. After the band imploded, Lindberg went off into punk rock (with occasional forays into metal, such as The Crown) while the bulk of the band became the Haunted. At the Gates will reunite for the first time since the middle 1990s this summer for a string of concerts.

To move back, "D-beat" is another sub-strain of hardcore punk rock. In this case, the name is drawn from the signature drum beat, which is powerful and quite easy to hang a couple of chords and riffs on and make memorable hardcore. It started mainly with angry  Brits Discharge, though there is also a Scandinavian school that started around the same time, followed by others around the world (Japan has a particularly good dis-scene). Like At the Gates, millions of bands have followed in Discharge's footsteps, utilizing the beat, a riff or two and a few lines of lyrics to spread their message of, er, war is bad and we're all going to die horribly in a nuclear war and, oh, the cops aren't really cool either (OK, it does beyond this, but sometimes it's hard to tell).

So what makes Disfear (note the "dis" prefix) such a great purveyor of the style? Well, Lindberg sings for all those bands for a reason -- his vocals are distinct and powerful, even when he's just yelling his head off. The band is made up of seasoned pros who have plied this kind of music for years and no how to take the seemingly limited tools and make it fresh. The 10 songs here are loaded with raw, raw power, but power that is molded into something focused. The band hits a number of highs here, including longtime live favorite "The Furnace" and the punishing album closer "Phantom." So, yeah, excellent Scandi-dis-crust. And in the middle of winter, what else does a hard rock fan want except something so intense it melts away the snow and ice?

And for a bit more: this month's column from Lavender, my long-awaited Best of 2007 list.

How I fell into the rabbit hole

(Ed's life of gaming, part two)

So how did this all begin? What brought me to the point where my home is decorated with garishly painted miniatures in a variety of violent poses -- and drawn from numerous fantasy and science fiction settings -- and spend most of my time "watching" TV actually hunched over my painting station (one corner of my coffee table, covered in newsprint) with a seemingly endless supply of pewter and plastic figures?

It started in Green Bay. Well, actually, no that's not quite true. I was actually living in Sturgeon Bay (up in Door County, about 45 minutes from Green Bay) when I took the miniature plunge. Now I'd long had a vague interest in "that" side of the gaming and comic book stores, even while I spent most of my time turning colorful pieces of cardboard 90 degrees (er, playing Magic: The Gathering). The figures intrigued me -- I mean, they looked cool and the guys (and the occasional gal) playing them looked like they were having a lot of fun. But I looked at the prices on them and saw how many it took to play, and figured it was out of my price range, especially if I wanted to feed my Magic habit at the same time.

Moving to Door County both 1) took me out of the Magic gaming circles, which took some of the interest away in collecting the cards and 2) meant I was actually making a living wage that left me with a bit of discretionary income. 

And there was a new gateway drug in 1999. While most Games Workshop (the English-based market leader in fantasy/science fiction tabletop gaming) systems required quite an investment, they had come out with a skirmish-based fantasy game called Mordheim that you could play with the contents of a starter box (which cost $60). I watched a few games, got a feel for what it was about and decided to take the plunge. With a bit of help from the more experienced gamers I was ready to start.

Well, not to start gaming. First, I needed to learn the arcane art of model assembly. Inside the Mordheim box was a rule book, a small bag of dice, short, red plastic rulers called "whup ass" sticks by the gang and several hunks of molded plastic. These were "sprues." Each one contained a variety of heads, torsos limbs, weapons and other equipment. With the help of a handy X-acto Knife, I began to extract the pieces and then use a pot of superglue to bond them together. Truthfully, I spent more time slicing into my fingertips and gluing my fingertips together than actually getting the models assembled (nowadays, I use hand snips on the plastic sprues; I still glue my fingertips together). I worked on the minis for a bit that evening at Rogue Traders in Green Bay, and then headed home to complete the job. It took some time but I got it done.

I hadn't bought any paint or brushes, so I couldn't start that side of the work. Impatiently, I went out to Wal Mart and picked up some spray paint to prime the models. That would have been OK, except I bought a glossy instead of a matte, giving the models a rather bright shine -- one that eventually made it rather tough to paint. The box provided two "sides," either a group of human mercenaries or sentient giant rat-men called Skaven. Since I'd used the glossy on the Skaven, I worked on the human side instead. Understand, I hadn't held a paint brush since high school, but here I was  trying to pick out tiny tiny details on miniatures that were about an inch tall. Needless to say, those early experiences didn't turn out the best, but I found that the work satisfied a need deep inside. The mixture of collecting, gaming and creating was nearly perfect for me.

It didn't take long for me to go from that gateway into the hard stuff. A month or so later, I picked up a copy of Games Workshop's science-fiction game, Warhammer 40,000 (typically called 40k). There, I was introduced to a dark far future where my only hope sat with my sloppily painted forces. Again, the background sucked me in, but it was the gameplay -- with a mixture of strategy, brute force (from the minis, not the players) and furious dice rolling -- that kept me going. 

In the last eight years, I've been through tons of game systems and a dizzying amount of models. Often, I get rid of rule books as I drift away from a particular game, but the Mordheim rulebook still sits in a place of pride on my bookshelf. (The glossy Skaven, however, were long ago sacrificed to one crazy conversion project or another.)

A little bit of this, a little bit of that.

I alluded to this book yesterday, but lovers of Victorian crime fiction, steampunk, the X-Files, super heroes, Lovecraftian horrors and other oddities will get a thrill out of The Secret Files of the Diogenes Club (Monkeybrain Books), a new collection of short stories by Kim Newman.

Sherlock Holmes fans will recognize the name of the Diogenes Club, the elite, nearly silent establishment favored by Mycroft Holmes, which we got a couple of glimpses of in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's stories. Kim Newman draws in characters from history, fiction and his own creations from other books in this jolly collection of short stories, where the members of the club serve as a type of super-secret service, fighting against dangers from beyond the earth. The stories stretch from the end of the 19th century up until the late 1970s and the storytelling style changes with the times, such as a hardboiled tale of the Elder Gods set in the 1940s. 

I've been a fan of Newman's for quite a few years, especially his similar Anno Dracula novels (fictional and real characters interact in a world where Dracula was not defeated and has gone one to take over the British Empire). Even if the characters caught in the cross-currents (a couple even show up from novels Newman wrote in the Warhammer fantasy gaming world) fit in well with the others. Newman draws the characters extremely well (Conan Doyle makes for a great supporting player in one tale) and the tales themselves are constructed quite well. Once you get past the cultural clutter (one of the later stories, for example, includes the Manson Family and Lon Chaney Jr.), Newman's story are rock solid, full of interesting twists and turns and an energy that never flags.

New Link (a talkinbroadway one should be coming along soon as well):

SpotLight Awards

And, oh dear, Heath Ledger is dead. 

At last, a new year's resolution

Hey, it's something I like to take my time on, especially since many of the worthy items (being more organized in my business, writing more, eating better) are things I should do without any influence from a "resolution."

The answer came last week, as I scanned the two shelves full of books that I have bought -- many of them brand new -- over the last years that I haven't read. A quick count came up with more than 50 unread titles. Quite a few of which I really want to read. So, my resolution is to clean off those shelves over the coming months. Thankfully (well, sort of thankfully I guess) I don't have much in the way of money for fun stuff right now anyway, so it's not too hard to just plow my way through these books. I've already made a tiny dent, finishing up a couple of books I picked up recently (including Kim Newman's terrific oddball collection the Secret Files of the Diogenes Club; a couple of misc. Brian Lumley anthologies; and J.R.R. Tolkein's The Children of Hurin, not to be a crowd-pleasing epic anytime soon, but does include the Professor getting all Greek on us with an incest subplot). Books on the horizon include Neal Stephenson's recent trilogy, a China Meiville book for young audiences and George R.R. Martin's Song of Ice and Fire (though I may wait for book five -- George promises it will be out by this fall).

The resolution has cascaded to my other interests, so I'm staying away from new video games until I finish some of those I've bought (and since the last one was the Half-Life 2 "five games in one" Orange Box, that may take a while), while I've cut off most of the new miniatures until I finish some unfinished projects (there are five, plus some misc. ones that I finally put some paint on) that are hiding under the couch. We'll see how it goes.

Will you come down the rabbit hole with me?

As I've slowly expanded the scope of this blog, It has become more and more a "State of Ed" report. As that is the case, I've decided to expand the scope into some more far-flung areas. No, I'm not talking politics (other, more astute writers, can explain this much better than I can -- I'm an arts writer at heart) or even sports (though that may creep in from time to time). No, I'm talking gaming. Not video gaming (that's already a part of that) or gambling (no interest at all), but pure, geeky fantasy gaming.

Let me move back a step first. Over the years, I've put a lot of thought into my hobbies. This perhaps is a sign that I overanalyze my life. Still, it is something that I've mused about, no matter what the hobby is at the time. This thinking has led me to a few conclusions:

1) A hobby should be fun. That should be self-evident, but who hasn't found themselves gritting their teeth over an activity that Seemed Like a Good Idea At The Time?

2) A hobby should be a way to connect with other people. Whether or not you like these people can often dictate if it is worth doing or not.

3) A hobby should be, at a certain level, a worthless activity. Not that it can't make you happy, but I'm suspicious of activities with some kind of financial goal at the end. Playing poker with friends with small change? Fun. Playing poker (or Magic: The Gathering for that matter) for high stakes? Er, not really for me. Our society is really geared toward achievable goals, especially ones that may help us financially. At a certain point, people really need to re-embrace the kid inside and do things just for the sake of doing them. 

Over the years, my career has been based on taking the things that I love -- music, theater, writing, photography and the like -- and making them a part of my job. I don't regret this at all, but it does often leave me short on the point number 3. Over the years a number of activities have filled that last bit, from collecting comics to playing Magic: The Gathering (my biggest ever success was a second-place tournament finish that netted me about $30 in store credit; these days, my only play time with the game is the occasional prerelease tournament). In recent years, this part of me has turned, nearly exclusively, to tabletop miniature games.

In a nutshell, these are like the army games plenty of youngsters played as youth. You get your troops of green army men, set them up and let them fight imaginary battles. These more organized games that I play now have rules, statistics for each miniature and require lots and lots and lots of dice rolling. My own interests being what they are, they also focus on fantasy and science fiction settings, so you may command futuristic elves against a horde of Alien-like invaders; or have giant mythical beasts battle it out over a piece of territory. 

Silly? Of course. Fun? Oh heavens yes. It's like playing chess with a rainbow-colored assortment of pieces, all of which can be set up in a myriad of different ways each game.

The games can also be divided into two other primary types -- ones that use prepainted miniatures (Hero Clix, for example, allows you to fight gangs of Marvel, DC or independent superheroes against each other in a spandex-clad orgy of violence) and ones that require the owner to assemble and paint the miniatures themselves. While I have a smattering of the former (including a sweet giant AT-AT from a Star Wars game) my real love is in the later. My apartment is packed with these, from forces that have been completed to boxes of ones waiting for me to get the painting process.

It's a sometimes tedious but also engaging and therapeutic process. And when it works well, the results can be so satisfying. (Hmm, that's all kind of like writing, isn't it?) I'm going to take a look at this over the coming weeks, from army selection to painting to actually playing. I'm not so much interested in offering advice -- there are others far more skilled in all of this than myself -- but in exploring the hobby itself and what it means for me. Though I have been actively painting for years, the gaming side has fallen by the wayside. Now that I'm not working three or four jobs, I will try to get out more and more to actually play.

So do you want to come down the rabbit hole with me? If you do, be warned, you may find yourself with a box of space marines, a tub of glue and a smattering of paints before you know it.

Fresh links

A new piece in MinnPost:

Poetry of Pizza

And one in the Lakeshore Weekly News:

The Mitten

Enjoy

Swanwick's Dragons

Michael Swanwick

The Dragons of Babel

(Tor Books $25.95)

For the last three decades, Michael Swanwick has offered his singular vision and voice to science fiction and fantasy fans willing to dig into his message. Those longtime fans will be thrilled that Swanwick has returned to the world of the Iron Dragon's Daughter, his brilliant epic that both embraced and subverted the traditions of fantasy fiction. The Dragons of Babel is cut from similar cloth, freely mixing modern images and ideas with traditional fantasy motifs into a thrilling, haunting novel.

We see Swanwick's singular world -- where iron dragons serve as the air force in an epic war of obscure origin has torn the society apart -- through the eyes of Will, a young orphan in a small village that appears far from the strife. When one of the dragons crashes nearby, it takes over the community and uses Will as its voice. As the dragon forces itself onto Will, they create a symbiotic relationship that lasts far beyond the final defeat the dragon. 

Will's changed nature leads to his exile from the village and leads him on a series of picaresque adventures crossing the continent to the fabled Tower of Babel. At first, his journeys seem little more than a wild ride through a landscape populated by centaur soldiers, double-dealing Dwarves and a young girl who sold her future and past for an eternal childhood. This continues as we get to the Tower -- which is a lot like a massive New York City, complete with a mix of familiar neighborhoods and mythical creatures, all lorded over by a host of ethereal elves. By the last third of the book, Will's journey comes into focus, as he dances more and more among the city's elite, swimming as fast as he can to stay alive and find a purpose for his life.

Swanwick pulls no punches throughout The Dragons of Babel. It's a world that is wonderful and terrible at the same time; full of magical wonder, profane acts and death at every turn. Though Will appears to drift throughout the book, he always shows a capable head in a crisis and remains an engaging character throughout, no matter his actions or mistakes (and he makes quite a few, including one that he regrets for much of the book). Along the way, he is joined by a fantastic cast of support characters, from the eternal child Esme, donkey-eared con man Nat and a hippogriff-riding high-elf noblewoman who ends up as a key to his life.

As a writer, Swanwick does plenty that I appreciate. He never pauses the narrative to explain matters that the characters would already know quite well. Instead, we learn about the world through their everyday observations and experiences. Even when something new does appear (which happens quite often once the story gets to Babel), it is revealed slowly, as Will learns the ropes of each situation. And while the book is packed with literally out-of-this-world situations, Swanwick draws each one with plenty of clarity. I never mind being confused for a time in a book if I sense (or in this case, know from experience) that I'm in the hands of a storyteller who can make it all come clear by story's end.

Swanwick's vision is hard to reduce in a simple review. Best to say that you will be hard pressed to find a better "traditional" fantasy novel published this year.

(Read Swanwick's Dragons of Babel blog here.)

Extinction?

I ended a rather rough weekend by watching Resident Evil: Extinction. I'm sure some of you are asking right now: dude, Resident Evil: Extinction? It's not a film series that I've ever particularly enjoyed, but I have a weakness for zombies. And mutant dogs.

Trying to recount the plot would be difficult as this is the third film -- and, er, it didn't really make any sense. I mean, the opening narration included a comment that the T-virus (the mcguffin from the films and the video games that causes the zombies/mutant creatures) "dried up the lakes and rivers." OK. How exactly is that done? Meanwhile, the balance of the film offers scenes nicked from other movies ("Hey, wasn't this in The Road Warrior? And I liked that bit a lot more in the remake of Dawn of the Dead. Man, they're stealing from the remake of Dawn of the Dead. That's desperate.) and video game set pieces that would be a lot more fun to play than watch. And the less said about the zombie clown car (well, crate) attack the better.

Which brings up an interesting point. Video game films invariably (there's an exception I'll come to in a bit) are terrible, be they big-budget exercises or Uwe Boll tax dodges. Why? They are two decidedly different art forms, no matter what superficial similarities there may between the two. Films -- well, good films -- are about  drawing the audience into a new world via story, characters, acting and the filmmaker arts (lighting, sound, effect, etc.). Games also draw you in, but through your own interactions with the "world." Though there is often a story (and sometimes a quite good one), the real pleasure is drawn from how the interface -- how the controller or keyboard is used; how the gameplayer's thoughts and ideas are then translated onto the screen -- works. Ideally, the user must feel they are in control of the process. That absolutely opposite to a film, where the viewer has essentially made a contract with the creators to be entertained.

As video games have become more sophisticated (a mixture of improved technology and more experienced designers), they have also hit against this issue. Lots of games try to be cinematic, but that often comes at the detriment of the gameplay. Even while playing a game like Okami -- a gorgeous creation with a compelling plot and innovative play -- I get irritated with the "cut" scenes (non-interactive moments that advance the plot) because the game is so much fun to play and I'd rather get back to doing the thing I wanted to do with the game in the first place (this, by the way, is what drives me nuts about the Final Fantasy and Metal Gear Solid franchises; both have solid gameplay, but both are undermined by cut scenes that go on and on and on and on and on...)

This seems to be changing in the game world. More and more advance the plot via in-game events where the player at least has the pretense of control. The game considered by many (including myself) to be the best of 2007, Bioshock, told its story in this way. Much of the background of the underwater hell we find ourselves in comes out through diaries and recordings you pick up along the way. Meanwhile, the game packed quite a surprise half way in that completely turned around the player's idea of the story, and exposed that, no matter the pretense, we are still being led by the game creators. Instead of revealing that bit, I'll look at a different way Bioshock manipulated the user via the interface and the illusion of choice. For your character to advance, he needs to acquire a substance called "adam," which allows him to develop new powers and skills. The way to get the substance? Harvest it from the Little Sisters, genetically altered young girls who are essentially mules for adam. You are given a choice -- you can take a lesser amount and cure the girl; or you can take more, which kills her.

As it turns out, there is no advantage to the second, as you are rewarded for saving their lives with periodic gifts that make up for the lost adam. So it comes down to the kind of player you want to be in the game, which will effect the "ending" (there are two) you get after completing Bioshock. Multiple endings are common these days, as they give players rewards for completing the game multiple times in different ways; and they allow for different styles of gameplay. (One reason I've never been all that interested in Grand Theft Auto games is that you are pretty much stuck playing as a bad guy. It's not that I don't like playing that way, but I like the pretense of a choice.)

Which I think, at last, loops us back to films. Films don't work with multiple endings. If there are, it means that the filmmaker was 1) doing a Clue-like stunt, 2) forced to put a happy ending on by the studio or 3) didn't exactly know where to end. For this kind of storyteller, its a deadly place to be -- one that leaves the audience unsatisfied, sensing beneath it all that something is not exactly right.

Silent Hill manages to avoid these pitfalls. Now, it's not masterpiece of cinema, but it provides a few scares along the way and has an ending that truly is haunting. Part of this comes from Roger Avery's script, which takes the guts of the Silent Hill game franchise and stitches it together into a different monster altogether. The plot doesn't ape any of the games, but draws elements from them (the town, the "hell" created by the dark recesses of the mind) for its own mythology. It's a video game movie that, at last, doesn't feel like a video game. 

Bonus Noise Annoys column

Another column worth posting -- written last month after the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame inductees were announced.

Noise Annoys:

Time for this hall to close


Ah, what a double whammy of a week. First, the utterly superfluous Grammy nominations are released. And now, the latest “class” of the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame has been unleashed on an unsuspecting public.

For the blissfully uniformed, here they are:

* Leonard Cohen
* The Dave Clark Five
* Madonna
* John Mellencamp
* The Ventures

I don’t have any particular trouble with these artists. In fact, I’ve enjoyed music by all of them at one point or another. It’s just that we seem to be getting diminishing returns now. Instrumental rockers the Ventures and British Invasion songsters the Dave Clark Five (of “Glad All Over” fame) are certainly fine acts, but what pushes them to the Hall of Fame level?

Madonna is even more problematic. If this were a pop music hall of fame, her work in the 1980s alone would push her into the ranks. But this is supposed to be for rock music, and that’s never been Madonna’s main interest, or forte. Add in that her career since 1990 has been – to be charitable – spotty doesn’t help matters.

John Mellencamp is the quintessential journeyman. He has made a number of fantastic records over his three-decade career, plenty of listenable releases and a number of dogs. (The use of “Our Country” by Chevy is a huge demerit on his career, however). Mellencamp is the talented infielder of the Hall of Fame. Never spectacular, but putting up good numbers year after year.

Which leaves us with Leonard Cohen. Though not as well known as some of the others on the list, Cohen’s songwriting and influence on several generations of bands and performers makes him a natural pick for the organization. It’s just a wonder it took this long to honor him – Cohen has been eligible for the last 15 years.

Which really brings me to my main point. Apart from Madonna, all of these artists have been eligible before. Mellencamp’s music career dates back nearly 30 years, Cohen’s goes back 40, and the Ventures and Dave Clark Five are early ‘60s acts. It’s not that there haven’t been great landmark musicians in the last quarter century – I just don’t think the Hall’s voting membership has any idea of what those acts truly are. Like the Grammys, the voters here are looking more and more out of touch with their supposed area of expertise.
And really, why does rock music need a Hall of Fame? This is the music of anarchy, of rebellion, and having a good time and not caring what people think. I can’t think of anything less like the music than a codified list of the greats. Except, perhaps, for 30 minutes straight of the “Our Country” commercial, interspersed with the Clash-ruining Nissan Rogue spot.

Noise Annoys column

Since my Door County column don't appear to be online, here's a copy of the latest for your reading pleasure --

Noise Annoys

While we wait for 2008 to get started musically (the record industry usually takes some time off early in the year to lick its wounds from the holiday-season crush), here are a few leftover thoughts and releases from 2007.

Emmylou Harris Songbird: Rare Tracks & Forgotten Gems

Of course, if there isn’t any new music to deal with for a while, you could sink yourself into this mammoth four disc collection, which – as the title promises – tracks down dozens of unissued and hard-to-find Emmylou Harris tracks that are drawn from her entire three-decade-plus career.

In some ways, Harris is a musical chameleon who can disappear into any number of styles, from aching country-western to traditional folk to alternative-tinged rock to even ‘50s-style pop music. At the same time, her music is unmistakable. Much of that comes from her singular voice, but it also draws from her very style. Harris always sounds like she’s on the edge of complete heartbreak, but also has the strength to persevere throughout whatever trouble the song may have in store for the singer. She even manages to out-Springstreen the Boss on stunning versions of “Racing in the Street” and “My Father’s House.”

Songbird is thrilling, compelling and more than a little overwhelming. It’s not a collection you can easily digest in a few listens, which makes it perfect fodder for a long winter.

Rufus Wainwright Rufus Does Judy at Carnegie Hall

It shouldn’t be a surprise that flamboyant and decidedly “out” performer Rufus Wainwright would tackle the music of Judy Garland. This two-disc live set finds Wainwright recreating Judy’s legendary 1961 concert at the same venue. He brings along a number of special guests, including sister Martha and mother Kate McGarrigle) along with an orchestra, but the focus is truly on the singer.

Wainwright does a fine job channeling his inner Judy throughout, though he seems to have an easier handle on the moodier torch songs than the more spry musical theater staples (such as “That’s Entertainment” or “The Trolley Song”). In the end, Rufus Does Judy at Carnegie Hall is exactly that – a loving tribute to an iconic artist who has inspired generations of performers. In his own way, Wainwright keeps the fabulous reign alive.

Radiohead tops the charts

There was much hand wringing late last year when Radiohead originally issued their latest album, In Rainbows, as a digital-only release. One where the purchaser could choose the price – all the way down to nothing if they chose to do so. About two-thirds of the people took that last option, with the rest paying about an average of $6 per album. A failure? Well, $2 an album isn’t a bad amount considering there were no 1) outside label costs, 2) no production costs or 3) almost no promotional costs. And the band’s decision looks even stronger now that the physical form of the disc has topped the charts in both England and the United States. Sure, it’s not a tough time to do that, but it does give the band another number 1 release, solidifies their status as one of the few “rock” bands that actually matter these days and shows there may be a new way to make music – one that doesn’t include a middleman. Considering the bone-headed actions of the mainstream music industry in recent years, that is not a bad thing at all.

Avenue Q Review

Monday has dawned overcast. The reality of three more months of winter are setting in. To wash away the gloom, here's a review of Avenue Q (still playing this week at the State in Minneapolis):

Avenue Q Review

So where is the best of the best list?

It's with Lavender. I'll link it when it is published.

For the time being, here's a profile I wrote of Avenue Q for MinnPost

Puppets Not For Your Moppets

Cheers

Year in Punk

The Year in Punk is a harder creature to handle than other genres. While the term has been devalued in recent years to the point that any band with a slightly snotty attitude and crunchy guitars can be called "punk," what I'm talking about here are the fiercely independent acts that don't just sit outside the mainstream -- they gladly thumb their collective noses at the mainstream and, in fact, would like nothing more than for the mainstream to die a horrible, bloody death.

So with that in mind, here are some favorites from 2007:

Acrostix (A Chain of) Hatred

The latest Japanese band to play like Amebix, but they do it so well. It helps that the add a bit of harmony to the proceedings, and a honest intensity that you won't find from most American or European bands who ply the same style

After the Bombs Relentless Onslaught

Dark and heavy Canadian band, with female vocals, and an apocalyptic take on the world. This 5-track 12 inch throbs with anger, as do the band's earlier trio of 7"s, which make up another album's worth of excellent material.

Behind Enemy Lines One Nation Under the Iron Fist of God

Brutal and fierce political hardcore. It may sound dated in a few years, but right now this is a perfect antidote for our society's mindless malaise. The Katrina double hit of "Flooded" and "Shoot the Looters" are among the year's best songs.

Born/Dead The Final Collapse

Um. Ow. Eight-track ep that doesn't let the listener come up for air.

Double Negative The Wonderful and Frightening World of Double Negative

Over this 10 track, 20-minute collection, Double Negative does their best to bring back the spirit of Eye for an Eye-era Corrosion of Conformity. And you know what? The world needed more Eye for an Eye-era C.O.C.

Fall of Efrafa/Down to Agony split lp; Fall of Efrafa Elil

Fall of Eferfa puts the "epic" in "epic crust." The four tracks they issued this year range from 12 to 20 minutes each, full of acoustic and hard parts, defiant lyrics about religion and society; and an upfront honesty that is almost painful. Down to Agony play at a similar game, though without the same epic length. Both groups are more than worthwhile

Holokaust Into the Void of Oblivion

Sure, D-beat may appear to be played out, but the simple power of the style (a simple drum beat, one or two chords and lots of anger) still can make for excellent albums. As on this one.

Pissed Jeans Hope for Men

Sub Pop, known most for unleashing Seattle-style grunge on the world, has been a far more eccentric label than its reputation, as this noisy and angry album attests. 

Severed Head of State Power Hazard

An eight-song ep that doesn't waste any time on being nice or subtle. Instead, this is just pure punk rock, full of venom and rage. The perfect music for the election season.

Subhumans Internal Riot

I got kicked in the nose by a mad stage diver at the Subhumans show at the Triple Rock this summer. I didn't care. This album is a lot like that -- a kick in the face that I loved for every minute. It's success is even more amazing when you consider the last true Subhumans album came out during Thatcher's reign. Let's hope it won't be another two decades before the band decides to release a follow up.

Totalitar Vi Ar Eliten

Tuneful hardcore punk that is loaded with sweet, sweet hooks. And they sing in their native Swedish, which is punk rock all the way.

Warcollapse Defy!

Brutal. (Really, it was a good year for brutal -- and imagine what 2008 will need to make it tolerable). More Swedish down-tuned d-beat madness, with some slower crust to add to the fun.

Witch  Hunt Blood Red States

To continue the Subhumans story, after the gig I bought a bit of merchandise, not realizing how bad I looked (the kick had scraped my nose, so it didn't hurt, but it had bled more than a bit). One of the women in Witch Hunt looked at me with concern and asked if I was all right. Again, reflective of the band -- which combines its punk fury with a true, honest concern for the plight of the world and the people on it. 

Wolf Brigade Prey to the World

Actually not the band's best work by a long shot, but a welcome return nonetheless. The 12 tracks on the lp (including a bonus cut, take that digital lovin' folks!) stick in the mind like the best tuneful punk.

2007: The Year in Metal (blurghhhhhhhhh!!!!!)

OK, a couple of looking back posts for you. First off, the year in metal:

You can abuse it all you want, but metal and its varied sub-genres and offshoots continues to be the most creative pure "rock" style of music out there. Bands continue to push the envelop of how you can define music and a song. Others rediscover old styles and mix them with the new (or try to keep them pure), to create thrilling sounds that sound fresh and familiar.

Top 10 albums:

1. Pig Destroyer Phantom Limb

Pig Destroyer added a fourth member this year, but it wasn't the long-expected bass player. Instead, it was someone in charge of electronic noise. Meanwhile, guitarist Scott Hull continues to do massive work, doing as much as a dozen six-string slingers (and a bass player or two) could do.

2. High On Fire Death is the Communion

Mixing aural sludge with punk intensity, High on Fire could be the Motorhead for the century (providing, of course, Motorhead ever goes away. I think death and the devil are scared of Lemmy.)

3. Witchcraft The Alchemist

An album that literally sounds like it was put to tape by a bunch of hairy dudes in the pot-soaked summer of 1969, not by some hairy dudes from coldest Sweden.

4. Baroness Red Album

There was no Mastodon album this year, but plenty of bands have taken up the mantle of epic hard rock. Baroness is among the best. So good, in fact, that groups in the future may be described as "Baroness-inspired."

5. Mayhem Ordo ad Chao

The blackest of the black metallers get back to their roots, creating music that perfectly replicates the mental state of an H.P. Lovecraft character who has just met one of the Great Old Ones.

6. Jesu Conqueror and eps

Justin Broderick may not be any older than myself, but he's an elder statesmen in punk and metal circles, having been at the game for 25 years, first with Napalm Death, then with the crushing Godflesh and now with the beautifully jagged Jesu. It took just a touch of melody to move his songs to a new level.

7. Rotting Christ Theogina

More blackish metal, this time from Greece. You may come for the blasphemous band title, but you'll stay for the blistering playing and (yes) raw intelligence behind the lyrics.

8. Pelican City of Echoes

Actually not as god as their last album (The Fire in Our Throats Will Beckon the Fall) but still a marvelous and soul-affirming collection of epic instrumental guitar rock.

9. Behemoth The Apostasy

The last of our international black/death metal tour (these boys are from Poland). Behemoth again digs for something a bit more intelligent than the "Kill Jesus" of much of the genre. Not that this album about temptation and religion makes much of a case for traditional religion.

10. Dillinger Escape Plan Ire Works

Massive and seemingly continual line up changes can't keep this band down. In a year when most hyper technical records left me cold (come on guys, find a groove already; I don't care if you can play 25 different riffs each minute) this album stood out from the masses.

Bonus: The return of thrash

Just hanging outside the top 10 were a pile of neo-thrash albums. Considering I had thought the genre long dead (killed by overexposure and crappy albums by Metallica, Slayer, Megadeth and Anthrax), it was more than a welcome return. If you want to get your shredding on in a 21st-century kind of way, check out:

Municipal Waste The Art of Partying

SSS Short Sharp Shock

Skeletonwitch Beyond the Permafrost

3 Inches of Blood Fire Up the Blades

Tomorrow: The year in punk