Tuesday, September 30, 2003

UPDATED

Dear Mr Mayer,

‘Well, that was pleasant.’

That’s what I thought.

Pleasant.

Maybe even good.

But never spectacular.

And certainly not $75 worth.

This was my John Mayer experience. I like your music. I really do. Room for Squares is a good album. A fantastic album. And Your body is a wonderland is one of my favourite songs. Ever. Really.

Maybe it’s because the Hordern is too big a venue or maybe you just aren’t that good a performer at the moment. But it was kinda bland. Kinda blah. You didn’t start with a bang, never really built it up and didn’t really climax anywhere. It was just… well… pleasant.

It reaffirmed my belief that you will one day be remembered as this generation’s Bryan Adams. Especially since you seem to be singing more ballads these days. It’s not a bad comparison. Bryan Adams sold a whole heap of records in his time. It’s just that one day, you and your music will be considered daggy. Not just daggy, really. But people will actually deny ever thinking you were cool.

Please don’t get angry. I’m not trying to insult you. I’m just telling you how it’s gonna be. And look on the bright side. At least you’re not this generation’s Michael Bolton.

But see, I reckon you can be better than that anyway. I wanna see you rock. I wanna see you, and your band (have they all been glued to the ground?) let loose! Why can’t you do that? Most good guitar-based acts know to really rock on stage. You’ve toured with Counting Crows. You should know. When they perform Mr Jones, they bring the house down! They go nuts! Adam’s pineapple haircut is flying everywhere and he’s jumping and his sweat’s splashing everywhere and the whole band’s moving around and jumping around and playing with and to each other. That’s how you rock.

OK, sure your fans were cheering too. But they’re teenaged girls. That’s just too easy. They’d cheer even if you just stood there.

Alright, so had your one moment. Come back to bed was very well done. But that was it. And that isn’t even one of your big songs. And while it was a great display of your guitar skills, it didn’t rock! And you never looked like you were particularly having fun out there. What about your big songs? You sleepwalked right through No such thing. Bryan Adams would never perform Summer of 69 with such indifference.

I remember Tegan and Sara playing Living room and I hear noises — their signature songs. And the Bens playing Khe Sanh with Jimmy Barnes. And Jason Mraz playing Curbside prophet. They all rocked! They all went nuts! They were performances that I'll never forget. That sends shivers up my spine just reminiscing about them! Michelle Branch rocks more than you! Hell, even Lo-Tel, your backup act, rocked more than you! They built up momentum very well. By the end of it, they really let loose! You’re too controlled. Too blah. Your face goes nuts but you don’t.

Forget about the fact that you’re all bigger than your body now and you have all these teenaged girls who want to sleep with you. Just loosen up and have some fun out there!

I do like your music. Really, I do. And I’ll continue to listen to Room for squares. But unless I hear that you’ve really beefed up your performances, if you come around to Sydney again for another $75 yawn-a-thon, I think I’ll pass. I’ll wait outside and listen to your CD in the car. One of my speakers is busted. But I’m sure it’ll be OK.

Your fan

xtn

__________

Concert grades 2003 Update

HD
The Bens (Enmore Theatre)

D
Jason Mraz (Metro)
Counting Crows (Enmore Theatre)

CR
The Whitlams (Metro)
Norah Jones (Opera House)
Michelle Branch (Metro)
Tegan and Sara (Annandale Hotel)*
Butterfly 9 (Basement)

P
The Superjesus (Metro)
John Mayer (Hordern)*
Charlton Hill (Basement)

*Tegan and Sara and John Mayer may have gotten extra marks if it weren't for their respective venues.

Friday, September 26, 2003

It’s Captain Jack Sparrow! ...or Where has my money gone?

The last three movies I’ve seen have all had something to do with the undead. One of them was even called Undead. All three are vastly different and they all succeed to varying degrees. Here’s what I thought.

28 days later
I really liked this. I liked the way that the zombies were fast and foaming at the mouth, rather than how they’re usually portrayed as lumbering, moaning things. What makes a horror movie work for me is the supernatural placed side-by-side with realism. This film had a very gritty feel to it (looks like it was shot with a handycam) and so when the zombies attack, it’s almost believable. The scene where they go shopping in an empty supermarket was especially good. As was the church scene with the zombie priest in the beginning of the film. The main problem, I thought, came in the second half. I don’t want to say what happened but it felt like watching The Beach a second time. Another big problem was the sense that these survivors had been living in this apocalypse for a very long time when it’s only really been 28 days. That’s a very short time. All in all, it’s worth watching. It’s an original take on the zombie genre.
***1/2

Undead
A more traditional zombie movie. Undead lies somewhere between Night of the living dead and Dark city. The result is only so so. The acting is hammy and there was no sense of realism whatsoever. OK, so maybe that’s not the point. But here’s where I get confused. What’s it meant to be? If it’s a spoof, then there’s too many serious bits. If it’s a horror, well there wasn’t a single moment where I felt the least bit scared. To me, the second half was quite good (but I can’t say anything without giving spoilers) while the first half was pretty much shite. I know there’s a lot of people who love this sort of thing. Maybe I’m just not one of them.
**

Pirates of the Caribbean
Ahh, here we go. This movie is wonderful! I’ve heard people say things like ‘It’s OK’ or ‘It’s pretty good’. What’s wrong with you people?! It’s probably the most fun film of the year! Yes, it was a little long, perhaps. But what was there was fantastic! Visually, it was stunning. But what made this work for me were Johnny Depp and Geoffrey Rush’s over-the-top performances. They shone in every scene they were in. They were perfectly cast. Even the usually scene-stealing Orlando Bloom took a backseat to these two. It’s rare that a film is genuinely fun. This film succeeds. Much like the Disneyland ride it was based on, I never wanted this to finish.
****1/2

__________

I’ve been buying a lot of CDs lately. Too many. But they’ve all been pretty good. Here’s a rundown of what I have bought in the last two weeks.

Rachael Kane – Appetite
Good but unspectacular. Girl with a guitar singing rock-tinged pop songs.
***

Elan – Street Child
Sounds frighteningly like Hanson before their voices broke. Soulful, but only a few songs stand out. The rest kinda blends together.
***

White stripes – Elephant
Hey, they are as good as their hype. It’s stripped-down back-to-basics bluesy rock. There’s just the two of them, no bass player, and they don’t swear or sing about drugs. It’s everything I didn’t expect from a rock band but the result is fantastic.
****1/2

Bob Evans – Suburban kid
Bob Evans is the alter ego of Kevin Mitchell from Jebediah singing mainly acoustic folksy music. I love it.
****

Rumanastone – By design
I have no idea why this Sydney band isn’t more well-known. They sound something like a rockier Gin Blossoms. They’re good!
****

Tuesday, September 16, 2003

One foot on fresh air

Every day when I wake up I assume that I am the same person that I was yesterday.

And I suppose I am. But then obviously bits and pieces of me change with every second of every day. That’s how I grow. That’s how I get older. I think I understand that.

But even if I can account for each link of the chain, from the first link to the last, it is no longer the same chain. Or if I focus on the chain as a whole, then the individual links cease to be discernable. It’s just how things are, I suppose.

How old do I have to be to start feeling old? Where is the point where plans have to be carried through? Potentials be turned into results? When do I arrive and where? When do some dreams have to be let go? When do I say goodbye to old friends?

The longer I let a chain grow, the further I am from where I started and eventually I realise that the chain will be bigger and longer and heavier that anything I can control. I may remember where I started. But I’ve forgotten how I got to where I am now.

You see, I’ve lost so many old friends. And the more new friends I make, the more I will lose in the future. Surely I used to have more friends. Oh yes, I did! Lots! But where are they? What am I doing about it? I don’t have time. But I must. Everyone has time. But I don’t have the energy.

I don’t have the energy to write emails to tell them all how I am and ask them how they are. Do I care about them? Sure I do. Do I care about them enough? Well…um… sure I do. At least some. Sometimes I miss them. Really miss them. It’s just hard. And it will just get harder. It used to be easier. It was much easier. I want to hold a party now but I don’t even know if people will come anymore. How much strain can these chains withstand? Over what distance? What can I do?

I think I understand how all this works. I take a little. I give a little. I gain a little. I lose a little. I learn so much. I forget so much.

I never become better or worse. I just become someone else.

I think I do understand. I just don’t like it.

Friday, September 12, 2003

Ding dong the witch is…um…

It was only a few weeks ago that she made a big speech about how important ‘open and honest communication’ is in the workplace. This was just after she chucked a spack at how we (mostly I) didn’t respect her authority and so forth. I then made a short counter-argument which to her ears probably sounded like ‘well you started it!’ and then she said some stuff about starting over on a brand new slate or something and then I nodded. Then back to work.

And now she’s gone.

She left yesterday. No prior notice. Nothing. Just came in earlier than anyone else, grabbed all her stuff from her desk and then left one note to our manager and one email. She said something like ‘Sorry it didn’t work out.’ No prior notice and the company can’t be bothered suing her. She couldn’t even tell us face to face that she’s leaving. So much for open and honest communication.

She was a manager too. Just one level below our other manager and two levels below the company owner, Bill. In McDonald’s terms, she would be a store manager. One level below the regional managers and two levels below Ronald. Either way, I am the drone. Or the ‘crew’. Perhaps elevated to the lofty heights of ‘customer care’ or ‘crew trainer’.

But she was right.

I didn’t respect her. She was a lot older than me (A LOT!) and all but I had no respect for her. I think respect is something you earn. And I felt that she was incompetent while at the same time she was trying to boss me around. She rubbed everyone (except one guy) the wrong way from day one and now we’re glad she’s gone. How she even got the job is beyond me. How she’s survived the last hundred years in the publishing industry is even further beyond me!

Hope we get it right next time. Or I pray that Ronald accepts me back into his ranks.

Thursday, September 04, 2003

Don’t trust a fat bastard who wants to become an Australian Idol:
The story of Anthony Sumbati


For a while, I actually felt sorry for the guy. His teary-eyed ‘Just tell me you’re proud of me, Dad’ phone call, made in front of national television, I think fooled a lot of people. Sure we all knew he had no chance in hell of ever winning Australian Idol, but we cheered for the poor well-intentioned, but misguided, fool nonetheless.

And then he did it again. Being disqualified, he made an ‘I’m just trying to be myself’ speech on TV and apparently almost had a mental breakdown at home, and we thought… poor guy.

But after seeing his interview on Rove (his first since he’s ‘calmed’ himself down after the disappointment), no more tears, he just comes across as a devious calculating bastard. From ‘fool’ to ‘tool’.

His catch phrase for the night was ‘It just happened’. What, so interviews with radio stations on the morning of the voting ‘just happens’? And when Rove asks him whether he or the radio station arranged for the interview, our man Anthony glosses over the question twice and when pressed the third time, answers ‘Honestly, I can’t remember.’

What the?! He can’t remember?! Dodgy bastard! He planned this all along. He knew he had no chance of passing to the next round so he tanked it in, drew the media attention, and now he’s already reaped the benefits by landing a job at 2WS.

Rove could’ve torn him apart on TV but he’s too nice to. He could’ve even made him cry again. Anthony was just so transparent. Probably because now that he has his radio job, he has no reason to put up the charade any longer.

And according to Mix FM (who conducted the interview), it wasn’t even Anthony who arranged the interview. It was his manager. Yes. The big man has a manager! Isn’t he supposed to be homeless (his dad kicked him out of home for entering the contest) and jobless (he quit his job to enter Idol)? Since when do popstar wannabes have managers? Why should we feel sorry for the guy if he can afford a manager?!

Well, that’s all the energy I’m gonna spend writing about you, Anthony. And relish that new job of yours. Because it’s not gonna last. Once this Idol gimmick wears off, people will realise that you’re nothing more than a useless fat bastard that used a nation’s pity to get him a job.

The only thing I’d like to see you do is wear a kilt and say:

GET IN MY BELLY!

I might actually pay to see that.