STEVE DITKO, AYN RAND, OBJECTIVISM AND SQUIRREL GIRL

This is a guest post by our old pal CT! - YOPJ

So as you may be aware, Squirrel Girl – everyone’s favorite not-quite-superhero – gets her own solo cover story in New Avengers #15 this month. When it comes to Squirrel Girl, people (people who've heard of her, anyway) tend to fall into two camps: there’s the nerd-raging fanboys who refuse to acknowledge her as anything more than a poorly told joke, and there’s the people who love her (more or less) BECAUSE she’s a poorly told joke. She’s been used sparingly in her almost two decades of existence, and when she is, it’s almost always for comedic effect. There’s nothing wrong with that; it is, in fact, part and parcel of the very character of Squirrel Girl. But if you take a moment and look harder at her, you find a series of wonderful contradictions that point to a vastly underrated–and underused–character...

Continued at CT's LUDICROUS SPEED blog!

A MUSICAL EDUCATION IN 1001 STEPS - PART 6

Duke Ellington - Ellington at Newport (1956)

Whenever I listen to Duke Ellington's music, two stories immediately come to mind. First, there's the one about how he and his band used to avoid hassles while performing throughout the segregated South by traveling in Duke's lavishly appointed private railway car. That's absolute class in a frosted champagne glass. The second is from Frank Zappa's The Real Frank Zappa Book, and, unfortunately, it isn't anywhere near as grand. Zappa tells about being backstage at some hastily thrown-together festival in Miami, '69, where he witnessed Duke pleading with one of the promoter's flunkies for a ten dollar advance - a pitiful sight that prompted Zappa to disband The Mothers right then and there. "If Duke Ellington had to beg some George Wein assistant backstage for ten bucks, what the fuck was I doing with a ten-piece band, trying to play rock and roll?" Thankfully, Ellington at Newport chronicles a happier, more prosperous point in his multifarious narrative. Here is an album that showcases the man and his band at their magnificent best, testament to the natural aristocracy that transformed this musical Midas from "Edward" to "Duke" at the tender age of seven. From the very first days of the Harlem Renaissance at the fabled Cotton Club, through the birth of radio orchestras and soundtracks for Hollywood Golden Age films, through world-conquering tours with an ever-growing band that showcased some of the brightest lights in American music - a roster of Greats with a capital G - Duke's story simply cannot be summed up in a space like this. Suffice it to say that Ellington at Newport captures one of the finest incarnations of Duke's revolving band, and the decision to keep all the between-song chatter makes you feel like you're sitting there in the rain with an audience so appreciative, they occasionally come close to rioting. No wonder this was Duke's best-selling LP. A masterpiece from an artist who lived his life as an ongoing masterpiece, it is more than a mere pleasure to hear this music today... it is a privilege that should not be taken lightly.

Had I heard it before? I'm ashamed to say that this is the first time I've listened to this recording straight through.

Do I like it? Hell yes.
Am I keeping it? It would be so very wrong not to.
Standout Tracks? Every cut is a classic, and the between-song chatter only adds to the charm.

INSANE WOMEN WE HAVE KNOWN + LOVED - A BASIL PAPADEMOS GUEST POST

SUMMER in Toronto is drawing to a close. I can feel it mostly while riding my motorcycle, which is the best barometer of changing weather. There are really only a few nights during the summer when you can ride at seriously high speeds in just a t-shirt and jeans and not begin to feel cold, those few nights when the rushing wind feels hot and sultry no matter how fast you're going. And those are the best moments for the kinds of motorcycles I love; Japanese superbikes of a certain vintage that are subtle but sure-footed and aggressive, full of raw and completely unnecessary power, beautiful of line and howl like a banshee… sorta like... well, this isn't the place for that...

Okay, so all this means more sleep lately, which means more waking early, which means more chance to practice one of writing’s most fundamental tenets, the ol’ A.I.C. - Ass In Chair… Speaking of which, thanks to AL C for reminding of all that.

So I’ve been thinking about dialogue lately, a story made almost exclusively of dialogue - sort of like theatre but not. How do you get across references common to say two people in a conversation? They’re not going to explain everything for the benefit of the reader. I’ve been working on this idea while writing a trio of short things that when put together are called Insane Women We Have Known + Loved.

Let’s give Part 1 a shot and see how it rolls…

I run into a guy called I used to know, Mitch Farrango. Hadn’t seen him in decades - literally. Something about drying out over night in the Barrie bucket, late summer during the late ‘90’s, back when Sauble Beach was a big hang-out.
“What you been up to, Mitch?”
“Been making time with this woman I used to know and met again not long ago. I think you probably knew her. Percy.”
“Percy?”
“Persephone.”
“Jesus…”
“Exactly.”
“She Greek?”
“No, you kidding?...

To read the rest, go to: Insane Women Women We Have Known + Loved - Part 1

And as an added bonus, here's a song to get your back-end moving again after a session of Ass In Chair... "I'm Like a Brand New Bitch" by Anjulie. She sang it at the recent Pride event in Toronto. Pretty great stuff.

A MUSICAL EDUCATION IN 1001 STEPS - PT 5

Fats Domino - This Is Fats (1957)

New Orleans native Fats Domino was the first of many RnB/rock crossover artists to use the tried-and-true “obesity insult plus game piece” motif in naming himself. He was followed, of course, by the likes of Chubby Checker, Tubby Leggo, Lardass Jenga and the immortal Tubaguts McLincolnlog. I joke, of course. But I joke for a reason. I joke because, to be honest with you, I’m really not feeling this one. It’s nice and all, but so far, This Is Fats is the first album on The List that feels like a museum piece. Fats’ voice is pleasant enough, but there’s something just a little too simple about a lot of the songs here. I’m sure some will find this refreshing, but I find it uninteresting. Ah… here’s an exception. “Blue Monday” has an urgency, both in Fats’ delivery and in the robust instrumental attack. The mix is muscular, and as Fats reels off the days of the week – and how each one is shitty in its own special way – it comes across. Wait a minute… “So Long” is also pretty darn good. Maybe I judged this one too soon (I write these reviews as I listen, just FYI). Damn! “La La” is pretty good, too! There’s nothing of the virtuoso in any of these songs, but they chug along nicely and have a certain malt shop time-warp appeal that is undeniable. Good stuff.

Had I heard it before? Some, but a surprising amount was new to me.
Did I like it before? I’d say I didn’t NOT like it.
Do I like it now? Some of the songs, yes.
Am I keeping it? Only the Standout Tracks, mostly for mix-discs I’m making for my mom and older in-laws.
Standout Tracks? “Blue Monday”, “So Long”, “La La”, “You Done Me Wrong”, “Reeling And Rocking”

A MUSICAL EDUCATION IN 1001 STEPS - PART 4

Louis Prima - The WILDEST! (1956)

"The Book" says Louis Prima was frequently dismissed as an Italian Louis Armstrong impersonator early on in his career, which I guess makes a certain kind of sense. Their voices share a playful familiarity, the way they interact with the band, the audience... and they both share the ability to juggle verbal flubs into memorable musical moments. But calling Prima a Satchmo rip-off is definitely going way overboard. Some of the selections here - "Buona Sera" for example - have a certain mob movie flavor that doesn't appeal to me, personally. However, there can be no denying the sheer elemental ferocity of "Jump, Jive an' Wail", which has to rank up there with the Benny Goodman Orchestra's "Sing, Sing, Sing" as the piece of music most capable of causing involuntary skeleto-muscular spasms in anyone not currently in a coma... or deaf. Also, I vividly remember my parents dancing to that particular song at a Chamber of Commerce Christmas party once when I was, like, six years old. Man, those two could cut a rug to ribbons!


Had I heard it before? Roughly half the songs were perfectly familiar. A few were new to me. 
Did I like it before? What's not to like? 
Do I like it now? It's very enjoyable music... very easy to appreciate. 
Am I keeping it? Only the standout tracks. 
Standout Tracks? "Jump, Jive an' Wail", "Oh Marie", "Night Train"

AN INVITATION TO LISTEN ALONG WITH YER OLD PAL JERKY

All hail Radio3Net.ro for putting up all 1001 albums from The Book yer old pal Jerky is using to broaden his musical horizons, expand his musical vocabulary, enrich his musical appreciation and otherwise adverb his musical nouns, as all the best sayings go. So please, by all means, feel free to listen along with yer old pal and kick in some opinions and reflections of your own. I would truly, honestly love for this to turn into an open dialogue of sorts. I'm listening to the Louis Prima album at #4 right now, so we've still got one helluva long way to go. So come on! Why not hop in while the hopping's good? See you in the funny pages! - YOPJ

A MUSICAL EDUCATION IN 1001 STEPS - PT 3

Louvin Brothers - Tragic Songs Of Life (1956)

The Book calls this release “one of Country’s essential bedrock releases”. As I sit here letting the Louvins’ sweet harmonies wash over the gyri and seep into the sulci of my brain, be-numbed and struck mute by overpowering sense-memories throwing me back, back, back... I find myself riding shotgun by my father’s side in his filth-caked pick-up truck, sitting on blueprints for part of a neighboring village's sewer system, my feet parked among tools and boxes and papers, the space between the back of the bench-style seat and the cold metal behind it stuffed to the bursting with more tools, manuals, plans, contracts and papers of all kinds, the air blowing cold and wet through our open windows – we both liked the windows down, unless it was incredibly cold – the smell of whatever New Brunswick season it might be rushing and swirling all around us, the radio on one of the few AM station that came in clearly – in the day when Country music really was “country” music, even in French – my dad’s beautiful, gruff voice harmonizing in his distinctive falsetto… I’m sorry, where was I?

Had I heard it before? In a manner of speaking, I grew up on it.
Did I like it before? “Like” is not the word I would use.
Do I like it now? “Like” is still not the word I would use.
Am I keeping it? Not sure yet.
Why Not? It’s just too much. Those harmonies and waltz tempos and mandolins make me beyond sad. These songs don’t inspire… they stupefy.
Standout Tracks? They’re all equally powerful. You can tell Kurt Cobain was a really big fan… and why.

A MUSICAL EDUCATION IN 1001 STEPS - PT 2

Elvis Presley - Elvis Presley (1956)

Not one of the 12 songs on this album – assembled from various disparate sessions, some from Sun and some not – reaches the 3 minute mark, and quite a few clock in under 2. Yes, yes, I know… he didn’t write his own songs. He borrowed 90 percent of his swagger from Black musicians who never got their due. He didn't invent anything. I know. We all know. But that doesn't change the fact that his once-in-a-lifetime voice – so limber, so supple, so inexplicably soulful – was coming out of that once-in-a-lifetime face – almost Luciferian in its lush, ambi-sexual appeal. There is only the slightest foreshadowing of the Las Vegas Golgotha to come on these early cuts - hindsight about the mythopoeic circumstances surrounding the King's birth having forever scarred all who've heard The Bad Seeds' perfect, unforgettable song Tupelo. For the most part, though, this album is just pure, balls-to-the-wall American rock-and-roll. Now, with over half a century having passed since it's release, you can almost understand what the old folks were so worried about.

Had I heard it before? Duh.

Did I like it before? Yes.
Do I like it now? Yes.
Am I keeping it? Yes.
Standout Tracks? I Got a Woman, Tutti Frutti, Blue Moon, Money Honey.

A MUSICAL EDUCATION IN 1001 STEPS - PT 1

Thus begins a new side-project!

Yer old pal Jerky was recently in the company of some wonderful friends both old and new, many of whom are musicologically-inclined. Their knowledgeable talk got me to feeling rather timid about my own, comparatively paltry knowledge of popular music - both historically and perhaps more especially in regards to more recent releases and bands, some of which my friends with “good ears” assure me are “essential”, despite the fact that I’d never even heard of them before, much less heard them.

And so, using the book 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die (Robert Dimery, General Editor) as my starting block - and, at 500 pages, it can certainly serve as one - I am endeavoring to rectify this deficiency in my learning. I have acquired a copy of the book, and have begun compiling copies of all the music found therein. This is not a difficult thing to do, as some enterprising soul has taken it upon himself to transfer all 1001 CDs into MP3s and put them up in chunks of 25 or so as torrents for thieves like you and me to download.

Some of the albums I already own, or have owned, legally, with full dues, fees and royalties making their way to all and sundry via the usual channels.

I intend to go through the list chronologically – the way it was helpfully compiled – and write a few thoughts about each of the picks as they come to me, if and when they do. I will also offer up my own patented YOPJ-meter score which, when the list is viewed as a whole, should help you know whether or not you’ll like a particular album, using our comparative musical tastes as a barometer. If I don’t like a bunch of stuff that you simply adore, then it’s a fair bet that you’ll enjoy the discs that I pan, depending. For instance, I am profoundly suspicious of almost all punk rock, and have a deep, abiding, almost perverse love for early 70's prog. So caveat lector.

That’s enough introduction to this exercise. Let’s begin at the beginning, shall we, with Old Blue Eyes, himself…

Frank Sinatra - In The Wee Small Hours (1955)

Is this the first “concept album”? The preface to 1000 AYMHBYD says so, but aside from this being as relaxed and smoky a collection of late night ballads as you’re likely to find anywhere, I’m having trouble seeing it. Later politics aside, I've always enjoyed Sinatra’s “guinea charm and olive oil voice” to steal a line from Jack Woltz, and the only word you can safely use to describe the man's phrasing is perfect. The same goes for Nelson Riddle’s arrangements for this album full of odes, laments and tonics to, of and for late night loneliness. It is legendary for a reason. It sounds magnificent, with gorgeous, lush orchestration, amazing fidelity, a warmth and richness that comes through even as Satanic MP3s. I can't imagine how awesome this platter would have sounded spinning on some swinging Playboy-subscriber's thousand-dollar turntable in the early days of Mutually Assured Destruction... dropping the needle on "Ill Wind" during the Cuban Missile Crisis, that truly must have been a real stone gas, man. Dark groovy, thick as gravy.

Had I heard it before? Yes, but never all packed together like this. It makes for a potent collection.
Did I like it before? Yes.
Do I like it now? Now, more than ever. And I think that, as I grow older and gather more tragedies and failures – as I inevitably will – these songs will only speak to me with greater and more devastating force.
Am I keeping it? Yes, but I will be deploying it sparingly and with caution. I’ll keep it around like a bottle of fine, aged scotch… in a cabinet, hidden away, only to be taken out for epochal personal catastrophes and/or epic melancholy moods.
Standout Tracks? Mood Indigo, Glad To Be Unhappy, Ill Wind, Can't We Be Friends... Not a stinker in the bunch, actually.

WHEN IS IT OKAY TO KILL A COP?

Don't act all offended, just open your mind and read this article, because - all things considered - it asks a difficult question that I have a sinking feeling more and more of us are going to be forced to contemplate in the very near future.

NEW MUSIC BY YER OLD PAL JERKY

Go play with this wonderful online musical toy. I created a piece of music called Entelechy by drawing a border-filling swastika. The resulting repetitive tones are quite soothing.

BASIL PAPADEMOS READS FROM HIS FORTHCOMING NOVEL, MOUNT ROYAL

Many of you Diasporans have been enjoying Basil Papademos's gritty/funky/hilarious revelations about his part-time gig as a chauffeur/bodyguard/babysitter to one of the Big Smoke's finer escort services (check out the DDD archives for a few choice examples and links to further information).

Well, Basil also happens to be the finest prose stylist whom yer old pal Jerky has the privilege of being able to call a friend. His latest novel, Mount Royal, is coming out soon, and it promises to be a scorcher. Check out this page for more information.

Quite enjoying the feedback you people have given his earlier efforts here, Basil asked me would I mind posting a series of videos he shot at the behest of his publisher, and with the able assistance of another one of yer old pal Jerky's trusted real-life cronies, the immortal Mel Rosedale. "Would I mind?!" I replied. "Free content for my stale, moribund site? And excellent content at that? Bring it on!"

And so, without further ado, here are three readings from Basil Papademos' upcoming novel, Mount Royal. Take it away, Baz!

ZIZEK JOINS THE GROWING CHORUS OF INTELECTUALLY RIGOROUS APOCALYPTIC ANGST

WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT THAT "TROLL" ON YOUR BLOG...

ERYKAH BADU CHANNELS ALEJANDRO JODOROWSKY

Pop singer Erykah Badu is making waves with her excellent new video, Window Seat, for which she disrobed in a public space and was issued a ticket for disturbing the peace for her efforts. I knew she was up to something special when I saw promotional material for her latest CD in which she was decked out as the Alchemist's Assistant from Alejandro Jodorowsky's mythopoeic masterpiece The Holy Mountain (1973).

Here's that video: