Badu is back. Her new video for "Honey" has its embedding "disabled by request" for some dumb-ass reason, but you can see it here. In it you see Badu inserted onto some really legendary album covers from-among others-Eric B. & Rakim, Funkadelic, LaBelle, Minnie Riperton, The Beatles, Grace Jones and Olivia Newton-John. Yup, ONJ. There's a wacky "Hey Yeah!" tribute midway, but no Ryan Phillipe intro, sadly.
I e-mailed good buddy Darryl Stephens to ask his thoughts on the new album, and I liked what he said so much I asked if I could post his comments, and he kindly agreed:
"the album is interesting. been meaning to ask you about it. it feels
like someone very talented started smoking too much pot. "telephone"
which has a cool hook about "save me a place in heaven" is otherwise
rambling and incoherent. it feels like jam sessions--not unlike
WORLDWIDE UNDERGROUND--but without the obvious gem of "I Want You." i
think it's gonna be a grower... and i'll find myself wrapped up in some
song unexpectedly a few months down the line. there are some that
stand out now. "The Healer" is good. and "Master Teachers" has a cool
hook. i'm not sure, though, that she's focused enough to have a real
hit here. i like it, don't get me wrong. it just feels more ambient
The New York Times Travel Section picked up on a story I've been hawking around town for a couple of years: The Rock Pools Of Sydney. I felt some decidedly mixed emotions upon opening the link when a friend sent it--editor after editor had passed on the idea, and here it was on arguably the biggest travel page. I don't mind losing the story so much, because I want to write a book about the rock pools. Does this help or hurt that? I'm not quite sure, but I'm certainly going to be a lot cagier as I shop ideas around. At least I know my ideas are good....
I slacked and didn't post this in real time, or indeed in any timely manner. Is it funny to read trailer reviews after the movies they are advertising are out? Maybe. Perhaps it's appropriate to be finally posting these on Oscar Day, the last big stop in Hollywood's marketing cycle. I've come to find the whole breathless glorification of movies on this day a little insipid--aren't they constantly celebrated in the deluge of marketing that accompanies their releases (see below) and by everyone yammering incessantly about them in lieu of talking about anything substantial, like books, or pressing global crises? Does the film business really need to throw itself a party, given how completely it dominates our culture?
This is over two months old. Mea Culpa, John Jay, Mea Maxima Culpa. A couple excerpts from Jay's complete real time trailer review(and now he does the features after the jump.
"I like how they add the Requiem to give Alien v. Predator some class..."
My big camera piece is up at Esquire.com; this one took months of research (read: I got to play with a lot of amazing cameras). Here's Carolina on the beach in Key West (all roads lead South today) shot with the Leica C-LUX 2, my top choice for travel photography.
On the way home last night I passed a Korean deli where the guys were
hurriedly bringing in all the produce and flowers from outside-an urban
sign of plunging mercury. Woke up to a frigid, blustery
city, wishing I were back in Key West.
This note about the song from roommate Kyle Hausmann:
Murder Ballads, the Nick Cave's collaborative album which
includes "Henry Lee" done with PJ Harvey, was released in 1996, around
the same time that the two artists - so says the vague Internet - had a
brief but intense relationship. Some accounts claim this was an affair
while Cave was with another woman; others do not reflect any
infidelity. (It was perhaps Harvey's only relationship known to the
public, and may not have been very secretive very long). By all
accounts, Harvey ends the relationship, and Cave is devastated.
The the story the lyrics tell, the history of the two singers
(whatever that history actually is), and the way the two touch and look
at each other...
I often think Overheard In New York's quotes seem made-up, but this one is so specific and improbable I think it must be true.
Hot straight guy #1: Geez, what size shoes do you wear, dude? Hot straight guy #2: They're size fourteen. Hot straight guy #1: And how tall are you? Hot straight guy #2: Oh, I'm 6'1". Hot straight guy #1: Damn, dude -- you must have a huge cock! Queer: Dude... Hot straight guy #2:
Man, I thought you were gonna say what I always hear -- 'Dude, big feet
-- you know what that means? Big shoes!' I hear that all the time. Hot straight guy #1: I know, right? Hot straight guy #2:
I like to say, 'Yeah, it means a big cock, right?' but that always
leads to an awkward silence. I applaud you for coming right out with
that. Queer: Um... Hot straight guy #1: Yeah, I left my shoes at my girlfriend's the other day, and her mom made a comment on them -- 'Big shoes...' I mean, her mom! Hot straight guy #2: That's crazy. Queer: Guys, look -- unless you're gonna whip 'em out, can we stop talking about your gigantic cocks, please?