Tideland

Kind of like Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas combined with Alice in Wonderland, and every bit the mess that you'd expect to result from that admixture. Very Gilliam, and as such of course visually striking in patches, but overall too all over the place to amount to much.

Alphaville

Mm, I think I'm developing a bit of a taste for Godard (or 'JLG', as he calls himself according to Adrian Martin's review of a recent biography of the director in the latest Monthly) - this one's a sci-fi noir melange with strong satirical overtones and lots of fun in a deadpan sort of way. I hate to put it like this, but there's just something so cool about it.

(previously: Bande à part)

[Edit: I meant to mention that it was also pleasing to gaze at the fashion and general aesthetic and map them on to that of Welcome To Alphaville, one of my favourite clothing stores...]

Jhumpa Lahiri - The Namesake

Well-written and readable (not necessarily the same thing), and thankfully not at all in the picaresque, magic realist, fabulistic vein of much 'Indian literature' - rather, it's notably, and impressively, precise and crisp in its use of language - but lacking anything to particularly pull me in, quickly and painlessly though I got through the book. I'm just not that interested in this kind of story.

Scoop

Insubstantial but entertaining enough, Allen and Johansson quite amusing together. Not as good as I'd hoped, but on reflection, really much as I'd expected.

Siri Hustvedt - The Sorrows of an American

This just might be the best book I've read all year; in fact, I'm almost certain that it is. It's kind of the way I see API in my mind, except more grown up, and written in the kind of prose that I most admire - spare, elegant, deceptively transparent. Nothing seems forced, everything hangs together perfectly - it's real writing in a way that a lot of showy contemporary stuff doesn't get near.

Like What I Loved, it begins with a letter, this one found by middle-aged intellectuals Erik and Inga Davidsen as they go through their recently deceased father's effects and suggesting an illicit involvement of some kind with a mysterious woman, years ago. From there, it reveals itself to be a kind of character/milieu portrait which functions both 'horizontally' (that is, taking its subject-matter in cross-section, more or less at a point in time, albeit with a strong emphasis on historical shading-in of that present time) and 'linear-temporally' (in that it does have a reasonably strong forward drive, generated by the 'detective story' threads making up the narrative and by the characters' arcs.

My comments about A Plea for Eros and What I Loved (see above) at the time that I read them go some way to describing what it is about Sorrows that so appeals - in both thematic preoccupations and style, Hustvedt is just my type, even though her particular foreground subjects have little immediate pull for me. As far as modern literature goes, it doesn't come much better than this.

Alien & Aliens

I've seen these before, but for some reason was in the mood to revisit them (nb: it's surprisingly difficult to find Alien 3 in dvd stores!). They don't grip quite as much on re-viewing, and I'm sure the small screen doesn't help either; still, both remain impressive in design and in execution.

R.E.M. - "Bittersweet Me" cd single

In the context of New Adventures in Hi-Fi, "Bittersweet Me" is only really a middling song - but that's no serious criticism given that, for mine, New Adventures is the best of R.E.M.'s many great albums, not to mention one of my favourite records by any artist full stop. This single has a couple of alternate versions of songs from the album, a fairly tough "Undertow" which adheres closely to the studio version and an acoustic "New Test Leper", and a live take on "Wichita Lineman" which isn't as good as it might've been, but is still pretty dern good.

Neko Case & Her Boyfriends - Furnace Room Lullaby

Great, in the way that all Neko Case records are. With the benefit of hindsight (and having listened to them all out of order), I can hear this as the big step forward for her - of the studio lps at any rate, while The Virginian was plenty listenable but a bit rough around the edges, Furnace Room Lullaby is much more polished, and better for it, a midday-through-to-late-afternoon (shading into night) precursor to the noirisms of Blacklisted (itself followed by the most fully realised of her records to date, Fox Confessor Brings The Flood).
My heart has lightened as spring has announced itself in the past few weeks; it strikes me that Case's music can be listened to at any time of year. It sounds good in the blazing heat of summer, but likewise in the chill of winter; the resonance it carries is altered but no less poignant in the mezzanine months. I don't tire of it at all.

The Edge of Love

Tamara and I have been trying to get it together to see this for a while, both inspired by the likely look of the film (in my case, at least, encouraged by the trailer). Anyhow, we finally managed it last night, Shaun joining us (because he likes Dylan Thomas, of all reasons!), and I'd have to say that it was about as I anticipated, though not all that I'd hoped. The 1940s setting comes to life, which is to say that it's at once vivid and somehow faded, scarlets and spotlights and soft, nostalgic edges, in sets, costumes, and all the little details; in the central roles, Keira, Sienna, Cillian, and Matthew Rhys as Thomas himself, all look right and do solid work.

Actually, locating the centre of the film is no easy exercise, which is one of the problems with it...the figure of Dylan Thomas is the hinge but he comes across as something of a cipher, and the relationship between Vera and Caitlin, while rendered with some conviction and depth, isn't quite developed in a way which convinces that it's what The Edge of Love is actually about; the spectre of the war haunts events, somewhat as it does in Atonement but even more so, yet can't be said to be the film's central concern in any meaningful sense. It's a film that either doesn't quite know what it wants to be, or does know but doesn't quite succeed in getting there...I think it shoots for melancholy, sweeping, romantic (the lush Badalamenti score is a strong hint in respect of all three of those), and at the same time warm, a bit earthy, filled with life, but it's just not quite there; it sets itself at meaningful character study but also indulges in broad-brush impressionistic gestures, and again it falls a bit short of what it aims for. (It also feels much longer than it is, which can't be a good sign.)

On balance, though, the good outweighs the bad; I wouldn't watch it again, but I was pretty happy to have seen it.

Though lovers be lost love shall not ...

An idea

So I thought that maybe I would try to watch all of my favourite films, as nearly as I can ascertain (given that unlike songs or albums, say, one revisits films relatively infrequently if at all) - 20 or 30, or maybe even 50 (yes, I have a list) - over some short period of time, not for any particular reason really, but just because. Might be a seriously bad idea, though, given that most of 'em fall somewhere between somewhat and extremely sad - or, at least, that's what I get out of them - and maybe it's not so wise to take risks with one's mood over spring, when all things are fragile in any event...well, we'll see.

The Last Town Chorus @ Hi-Fi Bar, Friday 12 September

Very nice indeed; for mine, the pleasures of Wire Waltz are, while real, not particularly vivid, but live she was scintillating, ipod backing track clear but relatively muted in volume, allowing her sweet, strong voice to come through with the clear vibrato of the lap steel in overlapping waves. All too brief at only six songs (or was it five?), but including "It's Not Over" and "Modern Love", and totally worth it.

(w/ Michelle and a friend of hers, Sarjeet; having little interest in seeing the other support, Sunshine Brothers, and none in seeing the main act, Ash Grunwald, I stayed for about three songs of the former's pleasant enough but uninteresting trumpet-led reggae-dub stylings before making my getaway...life's too short.)

21 Grams

Primed for it though I was by Inarittu's gorgeous contribution to Chacun son cinéma, I almost gave up on 21 Grams about 15 minutes in - the grittiness combined with the rapid jumping between stories and times was keeping me at a distance, and I was pretty tired. It repays the effort, though, unfurling into something that's intense and true-feeling. The performances are uniformly excellent, including that of the director himself, at once heightenedly dramatic and firmly anchored; it packs a heavy emotional punch, too. The film's no masterpiece, but it shows plenty.

My Blueberry Nights

Extracted from an email (one reference omitted; footnotes added):

It was pretty good, but not near his best earlier ones.[1] Very much his take on an 'American' film[2] - reminded me rather of Edward Hopper's paintings[3] - but still plenty languorous, romantic, moody, etc, etc.[4] Norah Jones did a good job![5] (Actually, he got good performances out of all of the leads - including a nice cameo from Cat Power.[6] Rachel Weisz probably the best but Natalie Portman also good as a raucous Vegas gambler.[7])

(w/ David and Wei)

* * *

[1] The framing story couldn't help but put me in mind of Chungking Express, in particular.
[2] Something was lost in the translation, I fear - My Blueberry Nights isn't as rapturous, as rhapsodic, as say 2046 or ITMFL, and the dialogue is, dare I say it, positively clunky in places.
[3] But more smeared and impressionistic - or do I mean expressionistic? I'm never quite sure with WKW's films.
[4] Albeit with some surprising grittiness in the David Strathairn/Rachel Weisz segment - which is graced by some seriously great acting from both of the above.
[5] In kind of a dreamy, wide-eyed, almost excessively ingenuous way, but she did it well, and that was the point of the character.
[6] A couple of songs from The Greatest, including the title track, made it on to the soundtrack, as did a nice cover of "Harvest Moon" by Cassandra Wilson; all quite nice but the music doesn't function in the same hot-wire-to-the-spine way as it does in, eg, Chungking Express.
[7] Jude Law the least dynamic but held his own...y'know, I don't mean to be too critical about the film, though - it was, for all that, still pretty captivating.

The Mysterious Geographic Explorations of Jasper Morello

Wonderfully mounted animated short - genuine steampunk, with all the frills. The silhouette style works a treat, and goes well with the Victorian gothic elements as well as the tech-industrial trappings that come with the territory.

Stay

One of those perception-thrillers - a bit of star wattage in Ewan McGregor, Naomi Watts and Ryan Gosling (not to mention Bob Hoskins and Janeane Garofalo in smaller roles), and a dab hand with camera sleight of hand (which turns out to serve the underlying premise of the film rather neatly). The problem, of course, is that there are generally a limited number of ways that films of this nature can turn out, and Stay indeed reveals itself to be one of those familiar types by its end...still, it's not a cheat, and it's effective enough, so...

(also w/ Michelle at home, involving some slightly ridiculous measures to emulate the night-time ambience that she insisted the film needed while we watched it at 4 in the afternoon)

Southland Tales

A right mess, this - basically a totally incoherent and completely affectless cinematic diatribe against right-wing politics, consumerism and pop culture vacuousness (vacuity?), with a bit of space-time continuum rip into the bargain. Without question, the best thing about it is the Rock's performance, though you could star-spot to your heart's content with this one (Sarah Michelle Gellar and Justin Timberlake also prominent, to name just two).

(w/ Michelle - at home)

The First Emperor (Tan Dun)

The Nova's running a series of screenings of last and this season's performances of the New York Met opera; this one, focusing on the first emperor of Qin (sung by Placido Domingo, no less) and written by Tan Dun (among other things, the composer of the music for Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon), feels like a fusion of Chinese and western opera (not that I particularly know anything about either)...I enjoyed it! (And, somewhat surprisingly, found my heart beating faster than normal at several points.) Though it has to be said that the music never quite launched to a higher level...

(w/ Sara)

Hellboy & Hellboy II: The Golden Army

Michelle was all excited about the new one, based on its trailer (I've always been put off by the ridiculous-seemingness of Hellboy himself, but was persuadable given del Toro's and Ron Perlman's involvement), so we watched the first film on dvd and then, the following Friday night (and with Jarrod in tow), saw the sequel on the big screen.

The first one is really only okay - it has some great images and a sly sense of humour (and Jeffrey Tambor up its sleeve), but it's too uneven and has too many dull patches to succeed on any terms, even as a comic book adaptation (not that the bar is lower for such, but rather that the parameters for success are different). The sequel, while in a similar vein as the original, has a much more rapid-fire pace, both in terms of action sequences and jokes (it's laugh out loud hilarious at points), and is truly spectacular (it's hard to imagine del Toro's Hobbit as anything short of a resounding success) - it's rare to see such vividly imagined and rendered imagery deployed almost purely for the sake of entertainment in the service of an unashamed genre piece such as this, though I still find the basic lack of gravitas of Hellboy himself, as likeable and well realised a figure as he is, distracting, particularly when pitted against the epic scope of the film.

"Writing Melbourne"

Steven Carroll, seeming only to have about two different ideas about his novels, which he repeated at intervals (not a criticism, btw); Michelle de Kretser, elegantly and softly spoken; Toni Jordan, unpretentious and amusing on the subject of her novel Addition; and a Nick Gadd, who writes crime fiction with apparently something of a literary bent, but didn't make much of an impression - all on the subject of writing (about) Melbourne in its various incarnations and elements, and none particularly dealing with 'my' Melbourne...which was at least partly the point of the session as a whole.

(w/ Cassie)

The National - Alligator & Boxer

It's true - in Alligator and Boxer, the National have wrought something special, a pair of albums each imbued with whatever it is that sets a rock and roll record apart and marks it as something a little bit transcendent...as between the two, well, Alligator is pretty great, but it's Boxer that really amazes - I reckon Julian F got it exactly right when he called the record a future classic, because that's just what it sounds like. It has a resonance that can't be mistaken.

Every single song on Boxer is good, and it's perfectly sequenced, its individual tracks subtly reflecting and building upon each other as they go, the whole much more than the sum of the parts. The album leads off with one of its clear highlights, the downbeat anthem "Fake Empire", at once totally contemporary chamber-pop influenced indie rock and classicist synthesis of the several pop music strands to be heard wrapped up in its sound, and then kicks it with the propulsive surge of "Mistaken For Strangers" before rounding off its first suite with the one-two of the murky, lovely brood of "Brainy" (very different sounding from its immediate predecessor on the record, but wreathed in the same post-punk aesthetic) and "Squalor Victoria" 's faster-paced but equally haunted rockisms.

Then, Boxer's dark, velvet heart, "Green Gloves" and "Slow Show": the first mysterious, subterranean and never quite resolving; the second providing the payoff, its coda - "you know I dreamed about you for 29 years before I saw you" - delivering one of the album's most apparently straightforward emotional payloads, yet in a way which still leaves one suspended somewhere between anticipation and resolution.

After that, "Apartment Story", another contemporary take on the Springsteen thing (see also "Keep The Car Running"), and done well, and then two deceptively low-key tracks, "Start A War" and "Racing Like A Pro", separated by probably the album's sprightliest moment (at least on purely musical terms), "Guest Room", which reminds me, it has to be said, of the handful of latter-day U2 songs that have held anything of the old magic (especially a couple of the better moments on All That You Can't Leave Behind), though if there's a stadium rock band's lp to which Boxer as a whole merits comparison, it's unquestionably R.E.M.'s New Adventures In Hi-Fi...anyhow, those two - "Start A War" and "Racing Like A Pro" - while not immediately memorable, turn out to be two of the deepest running songs on the record, and certainly two of those which I most commonly find echoing in my head...after which the band brings it home with the relaxed elegance of "Ada" and "Gospel", not stretching for anything over and above the rest of the album but instead finding the ideal way to wind things up in light of what has come before, on a gentle decline in which things continue to unfurl and re-ravel.

All told, it feels like there's a single thread running through the album - which has more than a little, I think, to do with the fact that it's the first album in ages that I've genuinely wanted to listen to over and over from start to finish (the last one before it was probably Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga once that one took root), and the first in even longer that I've felt like listening to in the dark, at night, with no distractions and nothing in my awareness except the music (the last couple having been, I reckon, Fox Confessor and In The Aeroplane... back in the first half of '06, or perhaps the Marie Antoinette soundtrack).

Alligator, which came before Boxer, can't help but suffer by comparison; despite, in "Abel" and "Mr November", housing the two most clarion songs to appear on either album, it feels a more muted record than that other, and it's certainly less perfect. Still, when it hits, it really hits - both of the abovementioned are great, and the jittery, catchy "Friend Of Mine" and the contemplative driftiness of "Daughters of the Soho Riots", not to mention the opening run of "Secret Meeting", "Karen" and "Lit Up", also stick indelibly...and I feel that it probably still has more room to grow on me, being that bit more understated and shadowy...

It strikes me that I haven't managed to say much about the National's sound on these two albums, but the truth is that their music has sunk in for me at a level which feels as if it has very little to do with the details of the sound itself - it's a tonal thing more than, say, a melodic or an instrumental one in particular...it's great, is what it comes down to - that's all.

Atonement

Atonement came with some pretty positive reviews from people who oughta know, including some of the 'even better than the book' variety (having not been overly enamoured of the book when I read it some time back, this impressed me less than it might otherwise have, but even so...), and I can see what all the fuss was about, though I don't think it's by any stretch a great movie.

What it is, is a great-looking film - both in its lavishly wrought details (locations and costuming especially) and in its stunning set pieces (fountain, library, Dunkirk), it's nothing short of sumptuous. It's also a film that, to a very large extent, succeeds in having its cake and eating it: it mostly convinces as a melodrama, with the attendant emotional heft, and also mostly succeeds in conveying its several messages about responsibility, regret, imagination and 'atonement' (the conveying of which necessarily depends in part on the undermining of those emotional effects, admittedly while reinforcing them in a different way); likewise, Knightley and McAvoy look the part and, whether through good acting or the fortuity of having well-cast actors (or, more likely, a bit of both), put in performances serving both of those impulses within the film, walking a fine line between genuine expressiveness and a more distant inscrutability or unknowability. (All of the actors who play Briony at the several stages of her life are very good, too, particularly the first two, Saoirse Ronan and Romola Garai, with Vanessa Redgrave having less to do than either of the others.) If, in the end, it doesn't quite succeed in reconciling those two threads, then the failure, such as it is, is, I suspect, an unavoidable one in large measure.

Oldboy

Violent, spectacular, and visceral in more than one sense, Oldboy isn't for the faint-hearted. It's certainly gripping, and stylish, too, painting from a broad but consistent tonal palette - but, all up, it didn't give me all that much, its moves wreathed in internal conviction and force but without much external reference...or something like that, anyway. Put another way (though saying something slightly different), it was well made and held my attention, but I'm just not that into this kind of film.

Paul Davies in conversation with Phillip Adams - More Big Questions

Lent to me by Cassie after one of those late night, several-drinks-in conversations a while ago: Davies and Adams in conversation on, indeed, big questions, tackled from a scientic perspective in clear, lay terms. I got a bit out of it - this is stuff about which I'm not particularly knowledgeable but that I'd like to know about (that is, the basics of current thinking about the chemistry of science, theories of relativity, quantum mechanics, etc - wanting to know about the Big Questions goes without saying!).

"Ghosts"

A mix cd from David - very enjoyable. There's a notable degree of musical/thematic coherency to the mix, ranging as it does across a cross-section of current indie-modern-rock act (or whatever they're called these days), with a couple of familiar songs from touchstone artists (Neil Young's "Don't Let It Bring You Down" and Tom Waits' "Hang Down Your Head") thrown in, and a pair of more electronic-infused cuts to begin and end (Ladytron's "Ghosts" and Panda Bear's "Take Pills"). From Radiohead, covers of two of my favourite songs, "Unravel" and "Ceremony"; from Phantom Planet, a song, "Quarantine", that sounds an awful lot like Radiohead. The standout's the Walkmen's "Another One Goes By", in its scuttle and sway like an end of the day second act to the marvellous "Louisiana".

"The moral of the story"

A bit of a waste of time, to be honest. The program described it in these terms: ' "The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily - that's what fiction means," according to Wilde. Barry Maitland debates with Peter Mares whether the best novels are moral, immoral or amoral. ' which is all very well, but as it turned out, completely misleading, the discussion being much more closely focused on Maitland's latest, a subject which held very little interest for me. Well, you can't win them all.

(mwf '08 - w/ Cassie, Tamara and David)

"Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" (MTC)

One thing's for sure, the mtc went all out in an attempt to bring us an authentic "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" experience, and it's a handsome production - the set looked great, as did the costumes, and the faint snatches of music at intervals were a nice touch...also, I think (fortified by having read the play very recently) I'm right in saying that they did the thing in toto, without any omissions at all (it was Williams' original version, rather than the Kazan-triggered rewrite). Even so, it wasn't wholly satisfying - the accents wavered pretty badly at points, and the performances were generally solid rather than electrifying, a shortcoming which is difficult to overcome in a play such as this, where essentially everything hinges on the characters' interactions, often one on one...but still, I thought it was pretty good all told.

[part of an MTC subscription with Steph, Sunny & co]

Cassettes Won't Listen - Small-Time Machine

Bought on spec, based on CWL's spectacularly good remix of Asobi Seksu's "Strawberries", but for the most part it comes across quite disappointingly as a somewhat more retro and considerably less memorable Give Up (not to mention five years on from that other), albeit with a bit more of a kitchen sink approach to its laptop-pop mode; things only really pick up for me on "Cutting Balloons" and "Lunch for Breakfast", each distinguished by some more dynamic beats and melody/rhythm lines than are to be found elsewhere on the record.

Justice Michael Kirby - "Answering the Critics - Human Rights and the Constitution"

Engaging but also measured, and he held the line for a national rights instrument. Interestingly, he seemed tacitly to accept that any such instrument would be along the lines of the Victorian Charter model rather than anything more ambitious; at least three possible explanations for that spring to mind, being variously beliefs on his part (from most to least plausible) that (1) advocating anything more radical (whether in the form of more direct human rights protection via ordinary Commonwealth legislation, or, even more so, constitutional amendment) would be doomed to failure, (2) a Charter-style Act is actually the best model for national rights protection, all things considered (perhaps having regard in particular to the UK Human Rights Act), and (3) simple oversight.

Anyway, I reckon all signs are pointing towards us getting a national human rights Act at some point in the next few years, always assuming that Rudd gets another term in office (as he surely must unless something goes badly wrong)...

Caroline - Murmurs

Maybe it's a Japanese thing, but the cover and sleeve design for Murmurs reminds me of those for Tujiko Noriko's Make Me Hard and Shojo Toshi. Indeed, Murmurs is a bit like a whole album of "White Film"s as done by a far more sweet-voiced vocalist (exhibit A: "Where's My Love", one of the softest, most sheerly lovely electro-pop things you'll ever hear); edgy it isn't, but all of the soft-toned textures and wide-eyed drifting don't come at the expense of proper melodies and interesting decoration...it's nice.

"Uncovered" (IMP July 2008)

Covers, of course. Some enticing prospects on the tracklist, but sadly only the first half of the cd works, so I miss out on hearing such intriguing combinations as The Boy Least Likely To doing George Michael's "Faith" (would probably be pretty good), Vampire Weekend teeing off on "Exit Music (For A Film)" (difficult to imagine) and Bright Eyes taking on "Mushaboom" (the mind simply boggles). Still, it makes me happy to've heard Jens Lekman singing "You Can Call Me Al", and anyone who doesn't get at least a bit 'aw shucks' about the prospect of Tegan and Sara covering "Rebel Rebel", well, anyone like that is obviously different from me (though it must be said, the cover itself is pretty average). Also notable: Of Montreal's take on M.I.A.'s "Jimmy" and Ben Folds' "Such Great Heights" - but the unexpected highlight is the Arctic Monkeys' "You Know I'm No Good", though some of that is surely attributable to how great the song itself is (something which hadn't really sunk in till I heard their version of it).

(from Angela in Clarkston, MI)

Tennessee Williams - Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

Sometimes the form makes all the difference; I don't think I would've liked Cat on a Hot Tin Roof half as much had it been a novel (or, more likely, a short story), well, even to the extent that that's a meaningful counterfactual at all, I mean. That said, in a lot of ways I'm drawn more to the play form than to the novel in any event - my inclination is always to pare things back, to live in the gaps and the spaces, and of their nature plays lend themselves more to such economy than their more descriptively fulsome cousins. Restraint can be more evocative than a torrent of words - and so it proves with Cat, for all of its melodramatic impulses. Williams' stage directions are unusually interiorised, most strikingly in the following long passage where the playwright actually breaks the fourth wall, at least on the page:

Brick's detachment is at last broken through. His heart is accelerated; his forehead sweat-beaded; his breath becomes more rapid and his voice hoarse. The thing they're discussing, timidly and painfully on the side of Big Daddy, fiercely, violently on Brick's side, is the inadmissible thing that Skipper died to disavow between them. The fact that if it existed it had to be be disavowed to "keep face" in the world they lived in, may be at the heart of the "mendacity" that Brick drinks to kill his disgust with. It may be the root of his collapse. Or maybe it is only a single manifestation of it, not even the most important. The bird that I hope to catch in the net of this play is not the solution of one man's psychological problem. I'm trying to catch the true quality of experience in a group of people, that cloud, flickering, evanescent - fiercely charged! - interplay of live human beings in the thundercloud of a common crisis. Some mystery should be left in the revelation of character in a play, just as a great deal of mystery is always left in the revelation of character in life, even in one's own character to himself. This does not absolve the playwright of his duty to observe and probe as clearly and deeply as he legitimately can: but it should steer him away from "pat" conclusions, facile definitions which make a play just a play, not a snare for the truth of human experience.

but they serve their purpose - they deepen one's appreciation of the play itself, characters, themes, structure(s), though only ever by casting light, realigning perspective, and never by cheating and introducing anything entirely extrinsic or new.

The above, too, serves as something of a statement of purpose for the play, and one which, I think, is fully achieved by the end - again, for all of the dramatics that take place, above all else Cat feels real. It doesn't have any gimmicks up its sleeve, nor any particular conceits (at least beyond those which are common to all plays, which map on to those common to all literature as written), but instead strives for, and reaches, a kind of truthfulness which cuts to the heart of the relationships and mores which are its subject (I felt that indefinable 'truthfulness', or perhaps 'honesty', more clearly in Williams' original version than in the alternate version, with its revised final act, prepared under original director Elia Kazan's influence and evincing more of a developmental arc, and liked it correspondingly more). Maggie and Brick are drawn in a broad, confident hand, and while their interactions with each other, and those between all of the other characters, are unquestionably 'stagey', they breathe with an air of reality, and one genuinely engages with them as people, and not merely as 'characters'. It's swamped in atmosphere, too - a sense of time and place. Without wanting to be too backwards lookin', they don't seem to write 'em like this any more.

Kasey Chambers and Shane Nicholson - Rattlin' Bones

Nicholson's voice complements Chambers' well, and this record seems like a genuinely collaborative affair, but inevitably I've approached it as 'the new Kasey Chambers album', and as such, it's much as I'd expected based on the launch - much more of a bluegrass/country flavour than probably anything she's done before, and certainly more so than the thoroughly enjoyable Carnival, but retaining the crystalline, spacious production and modern touches which give the music its immediacy and much of its charm. For all of that, though, it hasn't left a great impression on me so far (and I've had the album for a while) - perhaps, I've listened to too much of this kind of stuff before, and in moving in this direction, Chambers has left behind some of the idiosyncratic elements (both edginess and sweetness) which distinguish so much of her previous work.

Clouds - Favourites

It's all very confusing. There's these guys, the Sydney outfit who I know through Penny Century and, before that, the appropriately named "Anthem" (thank you cassette tape of "100% Hits volume 4"), and then there's a Scottish mob from the 80s, whose "Get Out Of My Dream" was one of the highlights of the CD86 comp, and apparently there was another before them (also Scottish, for good measure) back in the 60s. Anyway, so this compilation: there's much to like on it, most notably the willingness to experiment with unconventional song forms while retaining a clear pop sensibility and the sound they nailed seemingly from the very beginning (crisp, state-of-the-90s indie girl rock), but the songwriting is probably a bit too indirect for the band's own good, with the result that one is left with an impression of a series of swirls of colour rather than of clearly defined pieces; tellingly, one of the few songs to stand out is their woozy take on "Wichita Lineman".

"Lands End" (Compagnie Philippe Genty)

Oh my god, this was amazing. A sort of surrealist dance theatre show, complete with giant puppets, billowing oversized stage-filling balloons, striking lighting, and sliding panels and screens which continually frame and reframe the stage as they move. Taking cues certainly from Magritte (the men in long coats and bowler hats are only the beginning) and probably in some measure from Lacan (re: that latter, I'm thinking naturally of the 'Seminar on The Purloined Letter', etc), too, it's genuinely dream-like, beautiful, unsettling, whimsical, fantastic; and set to music something like a cross between Four Tet and Victorialand, but exceeding any such attempt at categorisation. From our position near the front, in the centre of the row, it was easy to become immersed in the flow of scenes and images while allowing their 'meaning' (or, perhaps, 'narrative') to take shape at a more abstract level. "Lands End" made a lot of sense to me, both emotionally and imaginatively, and more 'intellectually' (in some respects, precisely inasmuch as it elides the distinctions between those various types of responses); I haven't had such a wonderful experience in a theatre setting maybe ever.

(w/ trang + Arthur)

Glass: A Portrait of Philip in Twelve Parts

One for the fans, or at least for those with some existing interest in Glass - it's perfectly watchable, but doesn't shed a huge amount of light on either the man or the music. He comes across as very down to earth and affable, with a healthy lack of ego and rich spiritual life, but there are hints of lacunae, dissonances - in particular, in his relationships with his parents and with the women in his life - which aren't explored; and no attempt at all is made to say anything about the music itself, although there's an implied comparison to the pointillistic paintings of one of Glass's artist friends. Still, watching it reminded me how much I like his stuff, so it has to go down as a success at least to that extent.

(w/ Jaani - a sold-out session (at MIFF), impressively)

"Strengthening Human Rights and the Rule of Law"

Seminar back at MS, a week or so ago - Robert McClelland on the above subject. Earlier that day, he'd announced that Justice Branson (FCA) would be the new head of HREOC; at the seminar, he unveiled a few initiatives (possible national anti-terror law, consideration being given of ratification of first optional protocol to CEDAW, standing invitation to special rapporteurs and investigators) which, given the necessarily woolly nature of human rights talk, are all reasonably substantive, I reckon. He was rather more 'down home' and less polished than I'd expected, but seemed sincere enough and didn't come across as if he was bluffing at any point, including while fielding questions afterwards. President Maxwell (Vic CA) delivered a response, the main themes of which were how different/refreshing it is to have a Cth A-G speaking of human rights in the way that McClelland (and the Rudd government generally) has been and the fact that the idea of human rights is neither the particular province of the 'left' nor particularly radical.

Wicked

This was good! I wasn't at all troubled by the divergences from the novel - a musical's a different kind of creature altogether, after all, and it's been cleverly reworked so as to stand satisfyingly on its own in a way which ties the ends up quite neatly (the only thing that gave me pause was the altered ending, but I suppose it's more in keeping with what has gone before than that of the book - and that it took me somewhat by surprise is probably a testament to how much of the darkness and ambiguity of Maguire's novel is retained amidst the colour and glitz of the stage version). For mine, none of the songs really stood out ("Defying Gravity" is closest) and there was maybe a tad too much reliance on repetition of one or two recurring motifs, but that didn't much matter in the face of the engaging story and characters, spectacular sets and all round energy; the best moments/songs mostly involved Glinda ("What Is This Feeling" and "Popular" jump to mind), who is a treat both as written and as performed by Lucy Durack, but Amanda Harrison's Elphaba isn't at all shaded. I didn't fall in love, but Wicked gave me more or less what I wanted and it was plenty of fun.

(w/ Kai, Steph, Tamara, Kathleen + James L, trang and Vegjie ... which was, as it turned out, pleasing from the Elphaba-association p.o.v.)

Joan As Policewoman - Real Life

Think a more piano-y and smoother-voiced Kristin Hersh, with a bit of PJ Harvey and the more nocturnal, downbeat side of Tori to her too, and then some low-key lounge and jazzy elements, and you're in the ballpark as far as what Joan As Policewoman does. I've only been moderately impressed so far, but there are enough hints in the record that I'm willing to give her a chance to grow.

Revue

A collection of Soviet propaganda videos from the 50s and 60s; much heavier on extended, fairly dour footage of steel workers and farmers going about their labours than on colourfully kitsch song-and-dance celebrations of communism (even allowing that it was all in black and white), but pretty interesting nonetheless. Some great, characterful Russian faces, too.

(w/ Jaani and Ruth)

Pärt / Maxwell Davies / Glass - Trivium (Christopher Bowers-Broadbent, organ)

Eight pieces, all I think composed for organ and performed by Bowers-Broadbent on that instrument, all in a minimalist vein (though I don't think that any are strictly 'minimalist') and all interesting. Pärt's regal "Annum per annum" is magnificent, and likewise the more airy, drifty "Mein Weg hat Gipfel und Wellentäer" which precedes it; interestingly, all four of his retain a noticeably 'Pärt-ian' feel despite the unfamiliarity (to me) of their instrumentation here. The Maxwell Davies pair are quiet and mysterious; the Glass compositions ("Satygraha" and "Dance IV") are swelling and sonorous and, again, couldn't have been composed by anyone other than Glass himself.

Band of Horses @ Billboard The Venue, Sunday 3 August

A good show, if not as searing as I'd hoped and at least half expected. Live, they're an extremely tight outfit, very technically proficient and cohesive as a band, and with enough raggedness about the edges to give the performances more fire than the recorded versions (which is as it should be), but it didn't quite hit the next level despite the potential clearly being there, though there were some clear highlights when they did really nail it ("The Great Salt Lake", "Weed Party", "Wicked Gil" - all, oddly, off the first album, which is admittedly more rockin', but usually bands enjoy playing their newer stuff more, and that generally comes through in the performances). Perhaps, it was just a touch too tight; maybe it needed to be rawer, louder, a bit more unhinged (not that it seemed like a show that was all too 'professional' - just one in which the indefinable spark that pushes a rock show from good to near great was missing). All told, though, I enjoyed it, so no complaints - and it was interesting to hear some new stuff, which tended considerably more towards modern Gram Parsons cosmic americana than electrified southern rock...

(meant to go with Jon, but different arrival times and lack of reception in venue defeated atempts to meet)

Sigur Rós @ Festival Hall, Friday 1 August

Agaetis Byrjun was where it all began for me with Sigur Rós, so when they led off with "Svefn-g-englar" last night, the song's distinctive 'pings' and singer Jon Thor Birgisson's still unlikely (and still rather magical) vocals coming through loud and clear, I couldn't have been happier, and things soon got even better, as it became apparent that, as a live proposition, the band comes close to genuine shoegazer territory, the swathes and layers of guitar and synth from recorded versions either sharing the foreground with Birgisson's keen or washing over the top of it, building ecstatic walls of sound inlaid with all of the baroque flourishes and weaves we know them for, not to mention some real rock and roll drumming.

So Agaetis Byrjun was where it all began for me and it holds a special place in my heart, but truth be told, I haven't followed the band's career all that closely since, keeping up mainly through the various singles and other tracks that people have put on mix cds for me, most notably the cascading rainbow-swoon of "Hoppipolla" - which meant that much of what they played was new to me, but it was easy to be swept up by each new track, and there was barely a lull. The highlight, I think, would have been the skyscraping version of "Glosoli" they did near the beginning, but the whole thing was really good.

(w/ Ruth)

Ashes of Time Redux

This was excellent - just what one might imagine a Wong Kar-wai martial arts film to be like, cryptic, melancholy, blurry, vivid...epic and intimate, focused intensely in the moment but also haunted by the past (and with a gesture towards a hopeful future, too).

(w/ Michelle, Kai, Ruth and David)

Brock Clarke - An Arsonist's Guide to Writers' Homes in New England

I've been looking forward to reading this one! And so, what a shame, then, that my predominant response to it was one of irritation. The bumbling narrator, Sam Pulsifer, basically annoyed the hell out of me, and despite that, the bad end to which he eventually comes rings dreadfully false. Sure, I get that Clarke is playing more than one type of literary game here, but it's all a bit depthless, both in the sense that it has no solid bottom (ultimately, no substance) and in that (another way of saying the same thing) it's all surface in the end, however multiplicious its layers - we're not meant to take Sam, or his narrative, seriously, but at the same time, what's being said about both is something we're clearly meant to take oh-so-seriously and I'm not down with that. A shame in more than one way, because there are some good ideas in Arsonist's and some decent writing in bursts, as well as an evident ability to hold a story together over the course of a whole novel, but the pieces just don't quite fit. Still, I admire the chutzpah and the willingness to try for something different without any obvious signposting, trusting instead to the writer's own ability and the reader's acuity for the point to be made...

Hamlet (Bell Shakespeare company)

This had a lot going for it, but all told I really didn't think it was particularly great. The main problem for me was the figure of Hamlet himself...I didn't at all like the way that he was characterised, very much in the sulky adultescent vein of interpretation which (a) seems quite popular these days and (b) (lapsing briefly into unbecoming dogmatism) is just plain wrong; Brendan Cowell had presence but didn't really work for me; he was at his best in the contemplative soliloquies/monologues ("What a piece of work is a man", etc) and at his worst when lapsing into dire overacting intended to convey the character's anguish.

A lot of this stems from the fact that I'm pretty familiar with the play (and not a little possessive of the thing) and have some strong ideas about it - ideas which run counter to many of those underlying this staging...that said, another of my problems with the production is that it doesn't really seem to have a clear idea of the play itself, nothing cohesive to unify the choices made in respect of the various characters, sets, etc, beyond a generalised sort of contemporisation which isn't near enough on its own. There wasn't a clear vision, and the truth of the play was nowhere to be seen.

Still, I did generally like the way that the characters were interpreted: Claudius was effectively played as quite a physically domineering figure, and Gertrude likewise as the attractive older woman that she so clearly must be; Barry Otto as Polonius brought out the ridiculousness of the character without descending too far into farce; Horatio, Laertes and Ophelia all held their respective lines (that last a bit insipid for my taste, but that's obviously a reading that's open to her character); Rosencrantz and Guildenstern seemed to owe something to their Stoppardian counterparts in their gormlessness (their ineffectuality is played up and played for laughs), though with nothing of the anguished existential innocence of those others; all told, I thought that the acting was okay but a bit undistinguished. I did like the sets, though, and the music (courtesy of Sarah Blasko) which lent proceedings a bit of gravitas (thereby tipping my hand as to which reading of Hamlet I lean towards...).

(w/ (deep breath) Cassie, Kai, Wei, Julian F, Jaani, Sunny, Ben K and Bec P + guests of Wei's (Andreas) and Sunny's (Wilfred, Nirm and Louise [?]) - row a, three from the front)

The Cardigans - Super Extra Gravity

A winner - when it hits (which it does more often than it misses), Super Extra Gravity is a marvellous showcase for the frothy, immaculately put together popist gems in which the ever delightful Cardigans specialise. "I Need Some Fine Wine And You, You Need To Be Nicer" is still totally righteous and still has maybe the best title of any pop song ever, but it's "Godspell" that I've been really obsessed by lately, that latter encapsulating everything that's good about the record as a whole - a rush of a melody, hooks both expected and unanticipated, lyrics at once coy and direct, meaningful and obscure, that stick in the mind, delicious guitar jangle, ring and shear, Nina Persson's marvellous voice. Gettin' lots of spins round here lately.

Le cercle rouge

Uneasy but compelling Friday night viewing. Shot in colour but it feels black and white, and highlighted by an extended sequence (the central heist) with no dialogue whatsoever (maybe one or two words) - must've been at least 20 minutes, and might've been as long as 30 or 40. Noir/hard-boiled and 'cool', and thoroughly existential; layers upon layers.

(w/ trang + some of her folks, and Cassie and Kim)

"IMP June 2008"

A tasty mix, this one - one of my two or three favourites out of all those which have come through IMP in the last year and a half or so. The gal who made it obviously knows her way around this kind of music (lo-fi bedsit jangly pop, for want of a better way of describing it), and so there are spiritual forerunners and founding figures (Orange Juice, the Velvet Underground - that latter via "I Found a Reason"), more recent icons (Belle and Sebastian (a song, "Rhoda", that I not only didn't know, but is quality B&S into the bargain), the Magnetic Fields (the delicious "100,000 Fireflies"...I have a mandolin, I play it all night long, it makes me want to kill myself...), the Lucksmiths), assorted other scene figures (the Ladybug Transistor, Camera Obscura), a couple of slightly left-field but fitting selections (Sebastien Tellier's excellent funk soul electro pop ditty "Divine", She & Him's utterly charming "Sentimental Heart"[*]), and some seriously good tracks from acts that I've never even heard of before ("Givers Reply" by Ramona Cordova, "It's Going to Be Soon" by Rocketship).

(from Julie in Honolulu, HI)

* * *

[*] She & Him of course piqued my interest, seeing as Zooey Deschanel is one of the reigning indie goddesses in my books, but somehow I didn't expect their stuff to be anything more than endearing throwaway pop pastiches at best. The album could still turn out to be like that, but "Sentimental Heart" hints at the possibility of something more - Deschanel's got a natural and rather captivating singing voice, and it's a well constructed and arranged song, complete with girl group harmonies in the bridge about two-thirds of the way through...this could be pretty good. What can you do with a sentimental heart, indeed.

"The Power of Ideas" (Melbourne Conversations @ BMW Edge)

Just for note, really. Larissa Behrendt, Richard Dennis, Rodney Hall and Julian Burnside on ideas and society, with an emphasis on why bad ideas so often thrive and good ideas stifled, and how the latter can be fostered and implemented. Best was Hall, making an elegant, lucid, poetic argument for the importance of the arts.

(w/ Emrys and Nicolette)

Paris, je t'aime

Funny. Unlike, say, Chacun son cinema, the several shorts comprising Paris, je t'aime have an overall coherency, its individual segments feeling like aspects of a whole. Not sure just what it is that binds them all together, except perhaps the obvious, Paris itself; it's an impression aided, no doubt, by the relative lack of 'auteur' tendencies in the directors of the various pieces.

A few that stuck in my mind: Gus van Sant's "Le Marais", in which one young man haltingly-eloquently wonders to another, a stranger, if they might be soulmates, all the while unaware that the other understands very little French, is pleasingly wry and ends perfectly; Alfonso Cuaron's "Parc Monceau" (Nick Nolte and Ludivine Sagnier both note perfect) is just very appealing; Olivier Assayas' "Quartier des Enfants Rouge", despite being about nothing in particular (actress Maggie Gyllenhaal scores some drugs. The end.) somehow lingers (maybe it has a sort of infraordinary thing going); liked the Bob Hoskins/Fanny Ardant one, too, for the opportunity to see those two playing off each other; also, the one with Emily Mortimer was pretty good, though mainly because it was the one with Emily Mortimer (mind you, Oscar Wilde's showing up didn't hurt either); and the Elijah Wood vampire one, while OTT, was kind of cool (I didn't much like the other notably quirky one, the mime love story, though).

Aimee Mann - @#%&*! Smilers

On this, her latest, Mann mines a similar seam to that which yielded the riches to be found on The Forgotten Arm (see here, here and here), and to similar effect. Smilers is very much a twilight, autumnal record, guitar replaced almost entirely by piano and vocals consistently at the lower end of her register giving proceedings a muffled, quietly mournful air.

Smilers sees Mann further developing her seemingly increasingly downbeat take on pop classicism, easy listening am radio elements tempered by her unerring control of the form; while not overtly framed as a 'concept' album a la Forgotten Arm, there's a clear thread running through it and a sort of elegant musicality that I elsewise associate more or less exclusively with Summerteeth onwards-Wilco and New Adventures/Up-era R.E.M. when it comes to recentish pop music. "Looking for Nothing" is the song in which I hear that most clearly; it, "Great Beyond" and "Medicine Wheel" (those two coming across somewhat like the hinge pairing of "Little Bombs" and "That's How I Knew This Story Would Break My Heart" which appears at a similar point in Forgotten Arm) and the hushed "Little Tornado" are my favourites. The record's yet to lodge squarely in my chest, but I can feel it working its way there...and, needless to say, it's marvellous just to have new Aimee Mann to listen to.

The Fountain

There's no doubting that Aronofsky had a vision in making this massively ambitious film, and had it come off, The Fountain would have been dizzyingly great (he's certainly got it in him - as discomfiting as it at times is, Requiem for a Dream remains a flat-out masterpiece and Pi, while flawed, isn't all that far behind), which makes it all the more a pity that instead it's a bloated, tedious mess, albeit one in which the glimmerings of a great film are clearly apparent. The failure certainly doesn't rest with the actors - Hugh Jackman is mesmerising, and Rachel Weisz, who has less to work with, pulls her weight too - and nor is it to be found in any particular element of the wider composition of the film...perhaps, the conceit is too large to be effectively rendered in an hour and a half of cinema (though it must be admitted that there's a pleasing ambiguity as to exactly what - and whose - the conceit is, and that some interpretations work much better than others).

Incidentally, I also found The Fountain a bit gruelling for reasons entirely unrelated to those recounted above, and considered stopping midway more than once on account of these other reasons...cryptic, cryptic; after a hiatus of a few months, I think that it may be time for me to begin keeping my (handwritten) diary again.

Kill Bill: Vols. 1 & 2

Man, these films are just so goddamn cool! Even when you know exactly what's coming, the sheer cinematic quality of the individual scenes and shots holds the attention - we take Tarantino's inventiveness and pop culture- and cinema-literacy for granted, but rewatching Kill Bill has reminded me of just how adept he is with his bag of tricks (I've never particularly thought of myself as a Tarantino fan, yet have much enjoyed all of his films that I've seen - Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction, Jackie Brown and, of course, the Kill Bill instalment(s).)

I like the first volume much more than the second, but they do make more sense taken as a whole - and I think that splitting them into two is justifiable on artistic terms, though there's a deal too much padding in the second film in particular. It's all so over the top, and obviously, deliberately so, but also undeniably involving and exciting - the vividness of the images and set pieces and of the archetypes that are so lovingly invoked in them sells it...the two that linger are the interlude on Okinawa, its impact sealed by the use of Salyu's (Lily Chou-Chou's) "Kaifuku Suru Kizu" and, of all things, Zamfir's "The Lonely Shepherd", and the explosive showdown with O-Ren Ishii's underlings and its lyrical finale in the snowy garden outside.

The La's - The La's

Has a raggedness and a hint of fire along with its sparkly jangle and crunch that pushes the record to a level above most of this kind; there's much more to it than is suggested by "There She Goes", as deathless and great a song as that one is. That said, I don't think it's a great album but merely a rather good one, its finest moments (apart from aforementioned classic, "I Can't Sleep" and "Timeless Melody" stick out) frontloaded.

Justin Timberlake - FutureSex/LoveSounds

Takes its cues from Michael Jackson and Prince and mixes them up with a 21st century fuzzed-up gloss but without a real spark - an interesting misfire but a misfire nonetheless...or is it just that I don't really dig this kind of music?

"if you were a kiss ... then i'd be a hug" (IMP May 2008)

The first actual mixtape (as opposed to mix cd) that's come through the IMP, complete with mild distortion generated by the taping process. Two 90-minute sides, filled with lots of good music of a certain type - Simon & Garfunkel, Bob Dylan, Jens Lekman, Grandaddy, Magnetic Fields, Nada Surf, Billy Bragg, etc, etc.

(from Danielle in Tallahassee, FL)

David Eddings - The Belgariad

Read this over a period of a few weeks, a few weeks ago. (Don't think I've read it before, though pretty sure I did the Malloreon some, ooh, 15 or so years ago.) I'd call it workmanlike rather than inspired, although I like some of the subtle reworking of classic high fantasy archetypes that Eddings engages in over its course...still, there was enough in it that I read all the way through to the end, of course.

Labyrinth

Well, it's a classic, innit? Like a lot of others around my age, my first exposure to Labyrinth was in primary school, and it left an indelible mark. I've seen it a few times since; it's still just as good as ever...and all the better that Bowie and Jennifer Connelly are in it, too!

(this time, w/ trang at the Fed Square atrium - 9am, Saturday morning!)

Muse - Black Holes & Revelations

I've liked Muse from the start, but never thought all that much of them. Each of their last couple of (studio) albums has yielded at least a couple of stand-out songs (looking back, I think "Hysteria" is probably my favourite of those), but they've never really registered for me as more than a slightly mad alt-hard rock outfit with a knack for the odd hyper-catchy guitar riff.

With Black Holes & Revelations, though, I'm finally completely sold - Muse are a really good band. After Origin of Symmetry and Absolution, the 'intensity' dial didn't really have another, higher setting, but evidently the 'massive' one did - Black Holes surpasses the band's previous efforts for sheer grandiosity, which takes some doing, but it hits hard and surprisingly focusedly despite the sprawling ambition. There are several highlights dotted throughout its running length (I particularly like "City of Delusion"), but it's best listened to as a whole, to get the full benefit of Bellamy & co's impressive range of ideas and tangents all at one go. And still, they don't seem to have overreached themselves - it all adds up to a very consistent album which takes its place in a remarkably consistent back catalogue...what do you know?

Gregory Maguire - Wicked

It's been a while since I last read this one, and it's held up pretty well (this was at least my third reading). I don't think I'd still say it was one of my very favourite books (see here) but it still affected me - it packs a serious punch, emotionally, intellectually and politically - and this time through I really appreciated the craft that's gone into the novel, particularly the way that Elphaba is reinvented and realigned for us each time she reappears, and the sturdiness of the structure which allows Maguire's ideas to come through as clearly as they do without getting in the way of the story.

(Funny, last time I read the novel, I definitely had a particular friend of mine in mind when imagining Elphaba; the same thing happened this time round, but with a different friend...in both cases, I'm not sure whether the comparison is flattering - or what it says about me and my relationship with those particular people...)

Big Star: Small World

It's striking how faithful nearly all of these covers are, even the two done by girls; indeed, some of them, the Gin Blossoms' "Back of a Car" and Matthew Sweet's "Ballad of El Goodo" in particular, are practically note-for-note, vocals and instruments alike near-indistinguishable from the originals. The best ones diverge a bit more from Big Star's classic versions, though none especially dramatically, those being Wilco's alt-country take on "Thirteen", the Posies' "What's Goin Ahn" and the Afghan Whigs' "Nightime". At ten songs, one of them a relatively recent cut by Big Star themselves (or at least as much of the band as had reformed/remained at the time of this cd), "Hot Thing" (the song's not much chop), it's brief for a compilation of this kind but boasts a decent roll-call of acts (apart from those I've already mentioned, others include Juliana Hatfield and Teenage Fanclub), and while the lack of reinterpretation of the songs doesn't do much for the memorability of the versions on the disc, the other side, of course, is that one can't go far wrong with such great source material.

Radiohead - "Airbag/How Am I Driving?" ep

As big a part of my life as music obviously is, I've never been the trainspotting or completist type; still, there are a couple of bands, Radiohead and the Cocteau Twins, whose every single, ep, etc I do tend to try to collect, not for the sake of owning the objects themselves but rather to hear the music they contain, even if this sometimes means buying a cd or record for only one or two often relatively minor tracks surrounded by a bunch that I already know, and so it is with this one, which was released on the heels of OK Computer in certain markets...what can I say, it's good.

Spoon - Telephono & "Soft Effects" ep

Their first couple of records, I think, and a fair bit faster-paced, more ragged and angrier than anything they laid down later. They ain't bad, but they ain't special either - at this point, they're more interesting as historical documents than in their own right.

Roxy Music - For Your Pleasure

More avant-pop from back in the day. Immediate, but interesting as well. Like it a lot. "In Every Dream Home a Heartache" is head and shoulders above the rest for me, but then I guess I've listened to it way more, too.

"Art Deco: 1910-1939" @ NGV International

Had a look at this because I was in town with a bit of spare time and because it was there. It didn't especially strike a chord with me - I have a fondness for some art deco architecture, and at this particular exhibition, I enjoyed looking at the glamour evening dresses and some of the jewellry, but really, to the extent that the movement appeals to me, it's on the level of the associations it summons (jazz age, etc) rather than for its intrinsic qualities...and there's always something a little bit sad about looking at objects mounted, bare and more or less out of context, in a gallery-type setting (of course, I'm more of an art kid than a design one, too).

Bande à part

The first Godard I've watched - probably, the first out-and-out 'nouvelle vague' film I've watched, actually - and I've been left thinking that while they're probably a bit of an acquired taste, it's likely to be a taste worth acquiring. I don't think it's stretching the point to describe Bande à part as postmodern - the metafictional/intertextual/breaking-of-the-third-wall aspects of the film are integral, as is its wilfully flippant attitude towards narrative - but it also has a distinctive (b&w) melancholy, a wistfulness, which has as much to do with the film's overall tone as its more brazen structural and stylistic affectations; its most whimsical elements perhaps partake of both those streams. Arthur, Franz and Odile somehow avoid graspability just as does the plot and direction of the film as a whole; it all has an effect that can't quite be described.

Vendela Vida - Let the Northern Lights Erase Your Name

Cryptic in its apparent straightforwardness, economical in its use of language but with tendencies towards abstraction and lyricism, inward-looking while (at least on the surface) dwelling more on the details than on broad psychological sweep, at once teasingly unresolved and, in the end, satisfyingly wrapped up, Let the Northern Lights... is a good example of a movement that increasingly seems to me to be constituting something of a seachange in current (pun unintended) literary fiction, both in the sense of exemplifying the style and in that of providing an example of how it can be done well.

It's hard to put one's finger on just what comprises or defines that 'movement' or seachange or whatever; I've picked out a few authors who seem to fit within it before - Scarlett Thomas, David Mitchell (?), maybe Ali Smith, Steven Hall (on the strength of The Raw Shark Texts, Nicole Krauss - but, apart from being relatively well-to-do 'western' writers probably sharing a broadly similar cultural background, writing novels which are usually in contemporary settings and kinda modernist in sensibility even if they're often laden with postmodern tropes and flourishes (I often feel that Murakami is a bit of a spiritual fore-runner), which in turn involves a certain preoccupation with phenomenology and perspective (and ideas), I'm not sure exactly what I feel they have in common. It's not that they're my favourite contemporary writers, even amongst those who've got their starts in the last 10-15 years or so (in which case Donna Tartt, say, would certainly be amongst their number, though it must be said that her work has a classic, out of time feel to me, and, to take an example from the opposite perspective, I was more frustrated by The Accidental than I actually liked it); nor are they particularly the most acclaimed/popular meeting that 'kicked off in the last 10-15 years' criterion (in which case see Jeffrey Eugenides, Zadie Smith, JSF, Dave Eggers, etc, etc).

Well, anyway, be all that as it may, I liked Let the Northern Lights... a lot, for all of the reasons I've already mentioned. Its rendition of Clarissa's journey of discovery through chilly Scandinavia has a lightness of touch and an elegance which sits pleasingly with the novel's more human aspects (though it errs at times on the side of being too terse, I feel). It's convincing - not necessarily in the sense of being realistic (though, incidentally, it more or less is) but more in the sense of being true.

* * *

'References' (because I wouldn't mind thinking a bit more about this 'movement' thing down the track)

Scarlett Thomas - Going Out, PopCo & The End of Mr Y
David Mitchell - Cloud Atlas & Black Swan Green
Ali Smith - The Accidental
Steven Hall - The Raw Shark Texts (some previous thoughts on this subject there)
Nicole Krauss - Man Walks into a Room & The History of Love

The Happening

A reasonably tense but all up fairly mediocre genre piece from Shyamalan. It's got a bit going for it - Wahlberg, Deschanel and John Leguizamo, some well done 'nature as threat' cinematography, a genuine sense of spookiness about a couple of the episodes (the interlude/climax at the American gothic Mrs Jones' home in particular) - but is ultimately disappointing in its failure to amount to anything much.

Sons & Daughters - The Repulsion Box

Basically a scuzzy indie-rock album with bits of punk, rockabilly and sped-up folk thrown in (I think I read somewhere that they're Scottish); even at just a tick over 30 minutes, it's a bit wearying as an 'entire listen' proposition, too many of its songs blurring into one thuddy, scratchy, heavy whole. Still, "Dance Me In"'s still genuinely exciting and pretty much worth the price of admission on its own; "Taste the Last Girl" also stands out a bit, coming across all late-period Smiths with its jangly electric guitar lines.

Jasper Fforde - The Eyre Affair

Is it really so long since I first read this? Things just keep on speeding up.

"Rhythm & soul" (2007 cd)

Extremely belatedly, the "2007 cd" I made back at the end of last year, along with the bulk of the accompanying notes.

1. Ceremony – New Order
Marie Antoinette OST (2006) [1981]
2. Intervention – The Arcade Fire
Neon Bible (2007)
3. Rhythm & Soul – Spoon
Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga (2007)
4. Stockton Gala Days – 10,000 Maniacs
Our Time in Eden (1992)
5. So Have I For You – Nikka Costa
Everybody Got Their Something (2001)
6. Thunder Road – Bruce Springsteen
Born To Run (1975)
7. Back To Black – Amy Winehouse
Back To Black (2006)
8. Breakaway – Kelly Clarkson
Breakaway (2004)
9. Tommib Help Buss – Squarepusher
Marie Antoinette OST (2006) [2003]
10. Out Loud – Mindy Smith
Long Island Shores (2006)

At year’s kick-off, it was all about the Marie Antoinette soundtrack – the film was dizzyingly lovely, and its musical record no less so…“Ceremony” is a classic, but never sounded so good as it did swirling through Coppola’s sherbet dream, and Squarepusher’s mournful reprise of Lost In Translation’s “Tommib” is plangent, raindrop-perfect.

Not long after that was Neon Bible which, coming through in waves, was just as towering and magnificent as Funeral; “Intervention” was the song off it that first sent a shiver down my spine, and it’s still probably my favourite.

Nikka Costa came out of left field, “So Have I For You” grabbing me with its closing-time Joplin-isms; Spoon’s Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, by contrast, was predictably great, all stripped back rock tunes with a dash of soul, dressed in perfect details like the two-finger piano plinks in “Rhythm & Soul”.

At some point, I started listening to 10,000 Maniacs again, and remembered the kinds of pictures their music paints; “Stockton Gala Days” has been the key track. Also somewhere in there was Springsteen – having been rocking out to Born in the USA for years, I finally figured to listen to more of his stuff, and once you’ve listened to Born to Run LOUD, there’s no going back. And there was Amy Winehouse too, who I was all set to ignore till I heard “Back To Black” and realised that it was exactly the sort of thing that I like these days.

“Out Loud”, irresistible in its delicacy and pull, was almost certainly the song that I listened to most throughout the year; and “Breakaway” has been the one for the last couple of months, though I can’t explain that last, except maybe to say that a great pop song is a great pop song, and one way or another we’re all gonna empathise with it somehow.

"Our Leader"

The main event here was, of course, the Scarlett Johansson cut, "I Don't Want To Grow Up", the first off her Tom Waits cover record that I'd heard - and, let's be honest, it's ghastly. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that she can't sing, but, well, she can't sing - and the electronic musical accompaniment is pretty dire, too...it drags like nobody's business. Elsewhere, there's yet another classy number from the National ("Tall Saint"), two songs which irritate me a lot (Art Brut's "Formed a Band" and the Ting Tings' "That's Not My Name"), a bewildering left turn into southern white boy funk (My Morning Jacket's "Evil Urges", which is fairly horrid though the guitaring near the end saves it a little), an enjoyably gleefully stupid cut from the Rapture ("No Sex For Ben"), a cool as hell throwaway by the Breeders ("Bang On"), and assorted others.

(a mix cd from David)

Happy-Go-Lucky

There's a bit going on in this one. I didn't find it especially uplifting, to be honest - the social realist style in which it was filmed pretty much precludes any such response from me. Also, the preachiness irritated me a bit (ie, the 'be like free-spirited, endlessly cheerful Poppy, and not like her uptight bourgeois sister and wimpy husband or her racist, paranoid, obsessive driving instructor Scott - a pair of straw (wo)men, really)...so, while it has a pleasing whimsy, actually I don't think I really much liked Happy-Go-Lucky.

Just as a by-the-by, if I were writing an essay about this film for uni (and less wary of obvious 'ins' than I actually would be), the starting point would definitely be the scene near the start where Poppy and her friends are dancing in the club to "Common People"...

(w/ Kai and Wei, a pair of old-school film-going buddies)

Portishead - Third

This ain't your high school brooding past self's Portishead. It's heavier, darker, more disconcerting - and, astonishing to say, even better.

Third is a journey down a dark motorway, anxious and foreboding and at times positively menacing, but with a heartbeat and the reassuring sound of breathing, however at times fraught, underneath throughout. The beats and rhythms churn and skitter at times (on pulsating opener "Silence", the menacing mid-record emergency siren dash of "We Carry On", or the IDM-crashing "Machine Gun", say), but they're just as likely to be gently, breathily moog-y (I'm thinking especially of the second half of "The Rip") or even, as on the startling voice-and-banjo "Deep Water" or the Hem-meets-Goldfrapp (both at their most hushed) "Small", altogether non-existent.

Highlights for me at this point are "Silence", "Hunter", "The Rip" and "Magic Doors" (this album's "Teardrop", to draw a parallel to a not altogether dissimilar record of the band's once-contemporaries Massive Attack), but the record works best as a whole - as a single flowing stream in which the listener's immersed. Gibbons' voice is still amazing, and the thread running through it all; the melodies are still seemingly dialled in from the universe next door to ours via some weirdly clean-edged static, wrapped up in ether-soaked cotton wool for good measure.

It's also reminded me of how great those two older lps are - Dummy in particular meant an awful lot to me in high school (it was the first 'slow' album that I ever really took to heart, and I've retained strong impressions of walking around the schoolyard and in the suburbs at night listening to my tape of it, not to mention the first amazed thrill of discovering "Roads" and "Glory Box" through late-night, on-the-verge-of-sleep, radio listening) - but it does seem to me to be even better than those older ones, or if not 'better' as such then at least much more of the now, which in these circumstances perhaps amounts to the same thing.

Nellie McKay - Obligatory Villagers

Shorter and with the music hall and jazz elements of McKay's palette more in the foreground than either Get Away From Me or Pretty Little Head, Obligatory Villagers isn't the match of either of those earlier efforts, but it's a dip rather than a serious falling-away in quality - the things that are great about her music (and her) are still in evidence, and of course we do like those things very, very much.

Coldplay - Viva La Vida

Well, I've always quite liked Coldplay: Parachutes was sweet at the time, and I expect it still would be if I knew where my old tape of it was, and A Rush of Blood to the Head was genuinely good, the sound of a band which might be capable of touching greatness at least for moments at a time; I never got around to listening to X&Y, except once, several times over, in Irene's car on the way home from Blairgowrie in, erm, 2005 it must have been, but got the impression that it'd probably be fairly boring. So I had some hopes of Viva La Vida, and I was more than willing to go with the obvious stretching of their sound that they've attempted on it (I'd had a heads up from having heard the second half of "Yes" in jb hi-fi, which sounds like nothing so much as Coldplay doing that glossy Asobi Seksu-style shoegazer thing and hence nothing like anything of theirs that'd I'd heard before).

It starts promisingly; more or less instrumental opener "Life in Technicolour" leaves one feeling that the record could still go either way, but spacey follow-up "Cemeteries of London", complete with Cocteau Twins-esque jangle-and-shimmer, hits the spot, and next track "Lost!" is just as good, graced by a catchy synth and percussion line running through the song and some memorably epic, chiming guitar figures. After that, though, it's not exactly downhill, but it just doesn't quite fit together, whether they're trying somewhat incongruous song suites, copping licks from the Arcade Fire (both of the above on "Lovers in Japan / Reign of Love"), doing strange things with Spanish-sounding strings and lower-register Chris Martin singing (the first 'movement' of "Yes") or working a kind of Beatles meets the Verve seam ("Violet Hill" - and doing it pretty well at that). I can't put my finger on where it is that the album falls down - maybe, it just doesn't reach the great heights to which it so clearly aspires and, in so doing, spreads itself too thin. And there aren't really any out and out glorious moments or true standout songs...well, there's always next time. They still might have it in them.

The Last Town Chorus - Wire Waltz

A nice little record - the Last Town Chorus seems to basically be Megan Hickey, and the textures of her songs tend to be dominated by her voice (sweet, and one of those which seems always to have a bit of a catch in it) and by the vibrato of her slide guitar, accented by guitars of the acoustic and electric varieties (the latter being a particular feature of her marvellous cover of "Modern Love" and during the epic trail-off of album highlight "It's Not Over"), with only hints of percussion, bass and occasionally piano or organ.

Loosely, I suppose she fits within the sort of folk-country nocturne thing, often tinged with a quietly gothic flavour, that a few acts have had going in recent times - Azure Ray in particular - and the vocals and melodies remind me of the Dearhunters, too.

Greg Egan - Luminous

Neat short story collection - ten stories, most fairly extended, each running with one key idea. The plots tend to be pretty bare (likewise the characterisations), and are often fairly basic detective or search narratives - the structure suits Egan's focus on the science and speculation, which is probably helped by the short story form too. Some were a bit difficult for me to get my mind around without really thinking hard about them, but nearly all pushed me to at least think - consciousness, mathematics and physics (of the space/time variety) are his particular areas.

Aeon Flux

Me: So do you know about this tv series Aeon Flux?
Julian F: Yes.
Me: What's the deal?
Julian F: It's awesome?

It was Andrew B who lent me the dvd set, arising out of a brainstorming session for Ath library dvds a while back; Michelle has talked it up plenty, too. As for me, I found the show striking from a visual and design perspective, and in a way that dove-tails with the deliberate narrative discontinuities (the backdrops and characters are all sharp edges and planes, liminal meetings and thrusting incursions, mechanical techscapes sheering into the organic, all Escher-seque cut, paste and redouble - but in that very unholy series of collisions, the series has a coherency as a whole). Like the way it plays with oppositions and linearity too, disrupting at every turn, not to mention the Low-esque music. The episode-length ones are more ambitious; the shorts more immediate and seemingly graspable; the meaning of the whole remains entirely elusive.

"Scarlett O'Hara at the Crimson Parrot" (David Williamson) (MTC)

Well, everyone seemed to like this one a lot more than me - 'lightweight' isn't an epithet that I'd necessarily use to criticise a play (or any other kind of work), but in this case it is a criticism. It passed the time amusingly enough, but in the end there was really nothing to it - a thing needn't be weighty or serious in order to be substantial, but in the case of "Scarlett O'Hara", I just felt that there was a lack of substance and a hint of laziness, of careless invocation of stereotypical figures (using that word in its broadest sense) rather than any attempt at a true rendition...so for those reasons, despite Caroline O'Connor's engaging turn as the central wrapped-up-in-cinema dreamer, the mostly on-target digs at modern Australian society, and the number of laughs to be had, this was probably my least favourite of the MTC plays I've been to for the season so far.

[part of an MTC subscription with Steph, Sunny & co]

"The 39 Steps" (Patrick Barlow) (MTC)

Turns out I never noted this one - rather remiss of me. It was excellent, anyway, revelling in the theatricality of theatre and highlighting its own artifice at every turn, but in such a way as to add to the joy that a good performance brings - energetic and inventive, but sincere (or perhaps 'grounded') enough that it doesn't descend into pure farce. To put it another way, the core of what one wants from a play - story, characters, sets - aren't obscured despite the production's foregrounding of the artificial apparatus/mechanisms by which those 'core' elements are always (overtly or otherwise) enabled and brought into being. To put it another another way, "The 39 Steps" was hella fun! The archetypally Brit figure at its centre, hinting at but not falling into caricature, makes a great straight man and protagonist for the thriller/caper events of the plot and it rockets ahead at a mile a minute, running through an impressive number of locations and characters as it goes.

[part of an MTC subscription with Steph, Sunny & co]

"IMP April 2008"

A mix cd that really deserves the word 'mix', not because it's especially eclectic so far as genre or mood goes, but rather in terms of the range of apparently disparate styles that it brings together in what feels (sounds) like a cohesive whole. Leading off with Gary Jules' "Mad World", it then proceeds to skip through a range of silky indie-pop type stuff ("Here's Where the Story Ends", "Common People", Big Head Todd's "Bittersweet", etc) interspersed with bits and pieces of bossa nova and Brazilian-sounding flavourings (Gilberto Gil's "Asa branca", "Corcovado" by Astrud Gilberto, Joao Gilberto, Tom Jobim and Stan Getz, some Manu Chao) and several with aspects of both (the Cure's "The 13th", never a favourite of mine but a good fit here, say, and the Sugarcubes' "Hit", and "When You're Falling" by Peter Gabriel & the Afro-Celt Sound System). I like a lot of the songs individually, too. v.g.

(from Laura in Waltham, MA)

"Mighty Mars"

Kind of a mellow mix, despite the presence of TV on the Radio ("I Was a Lover"), the Drones ("I Don't Ever Want to Change") and Muse ("Knights of Cydonia" - which is cool and all but, trumpets notwithstanding, I don't reckon matches the best moments from Absolution and Origin of Symmetry). The first song is the best - "The Old Man's Back Again", by Scott Walker, a lushly cinematic adult pop thing. Also like the Pete Yorn song, "Georgie Boy" (he has a knack for writing songs which never drag), and Dylan and Natalie Merchant welcome as always, too.

(from David)

"IMP mix - Jan 2008: The Best of 2007"

Just wanted to note this...haven't yet managed to listen to it all the way through. Seems like it might be pretty cool, but sometimes and for some things, life's too short.

(from Steven in the UK)

Nelly Furtado - Loose

Hmm, this is pretty okay, but it hasn't grabbed me in the way that the POP I really love does. Surprisingly consistent, though, and has its moments.

The New Space Opera edited by Jonathan Strahan & Gardner Dozois

Read this over a period of a few months; a few good ones, but none really stuck in my mind. Mainly, I was hoping they'd be in the vein of Stephen Donaldson's Gap series, but, you know, they turned out to be not so much like those. Guess I'm not really that into this kind of stuff is what it comes down to, 'cause they generally seemed well written and put together.

Radiohead - In Rainbows

It started with OK Computer; never thought it would end like this. It's been a gradual process, but Radiohead has moved from front and centre of my musical landscape to a place nearer the periphery (though the topographical metaphors are tricky, because the band played such a large part in shaping said landscape in the first place)...anyway, the upshot is that while I got In Rainbows right near the beginning of the year, or whenever the deluxe box set arrived in the post, I haven't felt moved to listen to it over and over (at least, not until the last couple of days a little bit).

In Rainbows leads off with a Kid A-esque skid-and-clatter and reedy Yorke chant which doesn't take long to develop into a wiry sort of latter-day Radiohead pastoral almost-rocker ("15 Steps"), followed by a more out and out chugging rock song of the kind that they've been putting on the last few lps ("Bodysnatchers" - like "15 Steps", it's good), but it's a misleading opening pair, because as a whole In Rainbows is actually the band's prettiest album (knocking off The Bends, I reckon, though it's a near thing). They've retained the production style and general aesthetic of their more recent work, but the songs themselves feel much more organic - guitars, pianos and vocals are at the forefront, and while one still feels that the band is stretching itself, the music here feels more like a shading in of territory already skipped over or hinted at in previous releases, rather than a break or leap in a new direction in the vein of Kid A (which seems destined to remain the high water mark in that respect, both in terms of the change that it marked from what had gone before it to that date, and on its own intrinsic musical terms - more and more, it seems the critical document in their discography taken as a whole).

A very high proportion of the rest of the record is made up of plaintive, circling, sometimes-verging-on-miraculous Radiohead Ballads ("Nude", "All I Need", "Videotape" - and "Weird Fishes/Arpeggi" and the version of "Reckoner" on here almost qualify as well), and then there's a pair of quiet, folky meditations, one of which ("Faust Arp") reminds me in equal parts of Pink Floyd at their sparest and Nick Drake, while the other kind of takes its cues more from Robert Wyatt ("House of Cards"), plus only one other fairly rocky track near the end in "Jigsaw Falling Into Place"...and it's all very good - there isn't a weak song amongst them, and the replay value is pretty high. But somehow, I haven't internalised it in the way that I did all of their others up to (but not including) HTTT...

The cuts on the second disc are generally less fully-realised, but the songs are still strong, and largely in line with the style of the album proper.

"IMP March 2008"

A low key mix, with an understated modern-folk stream running through it (Vetiver's "You May Be Blue" is an early standout) and a bit of a funk section near the middle. The best track's "Care", by an artist named Kaada - a lushly circling number brushed with elements of soul and doo-wop circa 1950s through to early 60s along with some contemporary electronic touches. Also features Emmylou's deathless "All My Tears" and a faintly raucous cover of "Don't Let It Bring You Down" by an outfit called Weeping Tile.

(from Richard in Ontario, Canada)

Juno soundtrack

Like the movie, very likeable. The Kimya Dawson stuff is nice, especially with memories of the film still fairly fresh; the rest of it is neat all round, taken as a whole.

Shoot 'Em Up

Rented this entirely for the spectacle and it comes through on that front. So over the top is it, actually, that I half-suspect the film's trying to have it both ways, playing both as a hyper-action flick and as a satire (there's something similar at work in the muddled stance that it hints at taking on gun control). It's all extremely throwaway, but entertaining enough, aided by Clive Owen's presence at its centre.

Sunshine

Pitches its camp halfway between the metaphysical speculations of a Solaris and more straight-up entries in the space/sci-fi genre and does a pretty good job. Lingers a bit, and packs a decent punch.

Lisa Germano - Excerpts from a Love Circus

Excerpts from a Love Circus has a weird glamour to it - it's like some junkyard princess's imaginary diary, set to music and distorted by its passage through the looking glass...everything she touches is lightly dusted in a sort of fractured, broken-apart-and-put-back-together pop sensibility, at once knowing and somehow retaining an air of the naïf.

"Small Heads" is still perfect, delightfully off-balance and impossibly catchy, lyrics at once hinting at the profound and verging on nonsensical tossed off in Germano's husky drawl while all the little musical details accumulate underneath (plinking piano, recorder, unidentifiable percussive bits, a snatch of her too cool for words violin-playin', etc); the song's like a miniature Tom Waits pop ditty as done by a girl or something. It's been one of my favourite songs for years and is just as good in the setting of the album.

Others that are especially good: "Baby on the Plane", "Bruises", "I Love a Snot", "We Suck" (a ballad!).

"Frost/Nixon" (Peter Morgan) (MTC)

The word that comes to mind in describing this one is 'solid'. The opposition (albeit and unsurprisingly not, in the end, a true opposition) between Nixon, fallen from grace but not yet resigned to the fact nor necessarily beyond redemption in the public eye, and flamboyant British interviewer/talk show host David Frost is sturdily built up and eventually played out in the series of interviews between them, culminating in a (surely imaginary) late night telephone conversation between the pair and then the final interview segment. It's nothing spectacular, but enjoyable and well-made enough (and distinguished by quite a sympathetic portrayal of Nixon, too).

[part of an MTC subscription with Steph, Sunny & co]

Uncollected Galaxie 500

More! Not generally as searing as their lp or live recordings, but still well worth the listen, and I'd only heard a few before.

They really were a great band.

Gotan Project - Lunatico

Very listenable set of modern tango infused with downbeat electro and lounge elements - I like the more upbeat, swirling numbers more but it all works pretty well.

"Dear Art, Please Touch Me"

Pleasant way to spend an hour or so on a Sunday morning. Part of the Next Wave festival, this is an 'audio tour' of selected works in the permanent collection of the NGV Australia by way of two or three minute ipod-ed audio tracks of ordinary punters' responses to the works in question. Some are funny, some are sad, one or two are quite insightful (particularly the one on the Albert Tucker beach/sunbather painting), and a handful are really off the wall. It's striking that the respondents tend to respond to the art very much in terms of their own lives and experiences rather than seeming to engage with it at all on the pieces' own terms or opening themselves up genuinely to what the works might have to say.

(More info)

(w/ Andrew B and Julian F)

The Concretes - Hey Trouble

The problem with Hey Trouble is that it lacks that most essential prerequisite of pop music - excitement. One might ascribe that to Victoria Bergsman's departure, but truth be told, while In Colour did indeed have its rainbow moments, even that latter didn't come near the frost-edged joy of the band's debut lp - as much as I want to continue to like the Concretes, it looks as if that first album might have been one out of the box that the band will never be able to top, or even replicate.

On Hey Trouble, a couple of songs in the middle, "Oh Boy" and "Keep Yours" take off a little bit, and there are aspects of others which save the rest of the album from being a dead loss ("A Whales Heart" doesn't really hold together as a song, but has some nice hooks and textures; "Firewatch" is a bit catchy in an In Colour sort of way), but in general too many of the songs just meander along, seeming to echo or quote melodies rather than being really melodic in their own right and never properly catching alight. A disappointment, and maybe a reminder of how ephemeral genuine pop inspiration almost always seems to be.

Rilo Kiley - Take Offs and Landings

Moderately arty song titles accompanying moderately arty indie-pop songs, with occasional trumpets. Understated and likeable, and Lewis' charismatic character is as a vocalist already well apparent, as well as the band's handiness with a tune.

Lori Carson - The Finest Thing

I have a feeling this might actually be quite good, but it's far too indistinct and muted for me in the present state of my musical preferences...

"A Gesture in Reciprocation"

A mix from Kim of a while ago, made up entirely of covers (a perennial favourite mix cd theme, of course). An intro (Bobby McFerrin's "From Me To You") and four parts which could be broken down as 'women', 'men' and 'legends' (Waits, Cash, Joni Mitchell) and then a one-track closer in a lovely version of "When I Fall In Love" as done by the Keith Jarrett Trio.

Favourites: Eva Cassidy's "Time After Time" (of course), Vonda Shepherd's take on "Don't Think Twice it's Alright" (much less predictably, and only after a few listens), Jeff Buckley's searing "Je n'en Connais pas la Fin" (live), Fanfare Ciocarlia's "Born to Be Wild" and the Keith Jarrett piece.