Tagged: music reviews
Jack White said, “Drop the Screens” nervously
Metallica’s 2009 Rock’n’roll induction ceremony was epic, and I am sure I could nitpick it. Since then, I have always enjoyed giving some attention to the ceremony. Jack White and Co. were inducted the other day. In his speech, he played it safe. This struck me as odd.
He encouraged the young artists to “drop the screens”.
Wow. Edgy.
Or not.
This causes me to wonder just what it is about some tier one Artists that they cannot recall that they were not handled with kid gloves, by life or other musicians?
If I had written Seven Nation Army, I would look around the room and say, “Thank you for being here. The honor is yours.
“Since Metallica’s induction in the HoF, the quality of inductee and their actual qualifications as ‘Rock’n’roll’ has only deteriorated. Disagree if you like. But you know I am right. You feel it in your bones. Rather, you don’t feel it in your bones. The younger generations are completely devoid of soul, totally out of touch with truth, and utterly unremarkable. They are dishonest, superficial, and technically deficient.”
(I could go on. And if I had written Seven Nation Army, I would slowly and gradually build the tempo and rhythm of the words into singsong.)
The point is, if I was being inducted after having truly “done it my way”, I would give a “my way” speech that would be worthy of study by white nationalist kids at Hillsdale and might, just might, inspire some kid somewhere to make rock’n’roll again.
Reading Log 9.20.2025
The Aliens vs Avengers are better than Alien: Paradiso, but both are tremendously better than this random Batman comic.
Not sure what to say about Musk. Fascinating on every level. I guess main takeaways are he has a habit (from the beginning) of using all his money always—ie re-investing profits into new ideas/products. That appeals to me. And it is eye-opening to read about so many individuals who seek out money. I have never really thought about life like that. But Musk has money and is willing to use it to pay for what he wants to build.
Oh, and the part about flying home from Russia without a rocket and his data-based decision to build it himself for cheaper anyhow is the stuff of legends. Archimedes, you wild man of naked street running, watch out!
Plato is always a treat. Apology and Crito are a delight to read, at times laugh out loud funny, and also terrifically on point. For example, Socrates is on trial for his life. The charge: corrupting the youth. (Sound familiar yet?) His defense: the god (not biblical Yahweh, just some general concept) told him (Socrates, not Kirk) he was the wisest man—which he couldn’t believe. So he then decided to roam the country trying to find someone wiser. (Note: Plato wrote this about Socrates over two thousand years ago. Do not think about Charlie Kirk!) But no matter to whom he inquired, he always left disappointed because while they, in fact, weren’t wiser than him (Socrates), they thought they were wise. Socrates considered this as a worse state than his own, because where he wasn’t wise, he knew he wasn’t wise. Anyhow, in the end, he loses the case and was essentially forced to commit suicide. What can you do? It begs the question: What is an uncorrupted youth?
This final volume from Father Meier is excellent for the same reason the previous four are excellent. Meier states his destination and the rules of the road, and then works steadily towards it. This strategy allows the reader to do something even the Bible itself doesn’t: we get to assess his work. Put another way, Meier gives you everything you need to disagree with him. The only real criticism, then, is to discount his destination (an acceptable-to-all historical Jesus) or his rules of the road. (And feel free to do so.) But I love his destination and even if I didn’t agree with his road rules, I agree with the concept and so his portrait of the historical Jesus is fine by me.
To be sure: upon completion of these five volumes, you will never again believe Jesus was hippie-like. You will never again believe Jesus was some wise sage, like Confucius etc. But more importantly, for every stupid thing that you hear non-believers say about Jesus, you will have excellent evidence of where they are wrong. Never forget, the goal with these folks is not some stunning delivery of “you are wrong”, but “I bet you’d reconsider if you had better information. Do you have a second to chat?”
I threw in Metallica’s Load Album book for kicks because (1) I did read it. And (2) it has some pictures that were tremendously nostalgic. (Metallica re-released Load remastered recently.) “Hero of the Day” is far richer, more “Simple Man”, than I ever remember noticing. You will not be disappointed to reinvestigate both.
Metallica Is A Worthy Teacher
The most common reason I have given to any who will listen, as to why I don’t feel the need to attend church or really believe in church attendance since attending seminary is, “I need to either be learning or teaching, if I am involved with a group.”
Learning or teaching.
Listening to Metallica’s new album is learning from the experts. Learning proportion, learning dedication, learning timing, learning discernment, learning rock \m/, and learning love. There is also something subtle to note in their interviews. Metallica is probably the most qualified teacher on the topic of instinct. So add learning instinct to the list.
For this reason, listening to 72 Seasons is unlike listening to any other living band. Their catalog will be studied for eternity, like Handel, Mozart, and Beethoven. Their behind the scenes footage (of which there is no end) will also be scrutinized without end. And these studies will satisfy.
Want to hate Metallica? Easy. Just dig a hole, put your head in, and have a friend fill it.
Pay any other amount of attention to this musical sun and the result is adoration.
Metallica is a worthy teacher.
Review of This Is America, by Childish Gambino (Using One Scene from Robert Louis Stevenson’s The Black Arrow)
While I have your attention, do be sure to read Stevenson’s Kidnapped. Alan Breck may just be my favorite character ever.
Okay, here’s how this review works. I describe the opening of the video, then I use a few lines from The Black Arrow to express my critical thoughts.
The video opens with a shirtless man whose immediate sex appeal rivals young Jim Morrison, Mick Jagger, and Elvis Presley. Then we see him reach for his gun. And you know the rest.
****
The Good Hope was, at that moment, trembling on the summit of a swell. She subsided, with sickening velocity, upon the farther side. A wave, like a great black bulwark, hove immediately in front of her; and, with a staggering blow, she plunged headforemost through that liquid hill. The green water passed right over her from stem to stern, as high as a man’s knees; the sprays ran higher than the mast; and she rose again upon the other side, with an appalling, tremulous indecision, like a beast that has been deadly wounded…
“Bootless, my master, bootless,” said the steersman, peering forward through the dark. “We come every moment somewhat clearer of these sandbanks; with every moment, then, the sea packeth upon us heavier, and for all these whimperers they will presently be on their backs. For, my master, ’tis a right mystery, but true, there never yet was a bad man that was a good shipman. None but the honest and the bold can endure me this tossing of a ship.”
Review of Whiplash, By Damien Chazelle
I don’t care if any of you watch Whiplash—I care if filmmakers do.
Sure, it could’ve been better. I have no context for jazz music. I want to like it and know why I like it, but I don’t. Adding a few scenes which dropped subtle hints that answered “why jazz?” would’ve only made it better. But when I grin like a fool, shake my head in disbelief, write when it is past my bedtime, and what’s more, when I only gave half my attention to the film’s last forty minutes because the other half was busy re-budgeting my time and money towards future music instruction, I know someone just made an effing fantastic movie.
Review of The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman
Timeless and universal.
I have a rule. Well, Ecclesiastes has a rule that I believe is true. It goes like this: “There is nothing new under the sun.” When it comes to “get rich quick” or “relationship” books, it is impossible for me to not use this standard. If a book claims that it has come up with a new way to make money or keep a relationship strong, then, generally, I discard it promptly. I just simply refuse to believe that mankind’s soul has changed in any appreciable way in our existence. That being said, Chapman’s The Five Love Languages: How to Express Heartfelt Commitment to Your Mate is nothing new. And that is good.
The book’s largest flaw is that it is a book. It really could have been a flyer; I’m picturing a large picture representing perfect bliss overlayed by a few sentences at the bottom. The sentences being something like this:
People express and feel love in different ways. It seems that there are five ways. They include physical touch, quality time, acts of service, gifts, and words of affirmation. Try to speak your partner’s language(s).
Really, though, I’m proud to say that there is an even more fun way to help you figure out your love language(s). How I like to think about these five languages is via one language: song. Want to know which language is yours using songs? Then continue reading.
To start, if you think Kevin Costner defeats Errol Flynn in the battle of Robin Hood’s, we all know the only reason this happened is because Errol didn’t have Bryan Adams’ classic ballad “Everything I Do (I do it for you)” to accompany his swashbuckling sword fights. And your choosing Kevin means that your language is likely “Acts of Service.”
On the other hand, if everyone in the room but you noticed that you sat up during Moulin Rouge as Ewan McGregor belted out “My gift is my saw-ong…” in tribute to Elton John’s unforgettable “Your Song“, your language might just be “Words of Affirmation”.
If it is impossible not to feel warm all over when somebody tells a story about the summer of 1991, the summer during which you recall hearing Extreme’s “More Than Words” on every radio station across the nation as you drove to the west coast to greet Gulf War One’s returning victors, then you’re only hurting yourself if you don’t own up to “Physical Touch” being your love language.
Next, and admittedly a bit of a stretch (but then again, it isn’t my language, so I wouldn’t identify with it. Am I right Gary?), but if the only time you feel like someone really gets you is each year at Christmastime, specifically each time Eartha Kitt’s “Santa Baby” is played, then your love language is “Gifts”.
Lastly, if you can finish, “Eeeiiff eye-ee-eye-ee-eye (breath) shu-uld stay…” without hesitation, there can only be one conclusion. Your love language is “Quality Time”. (That Costner is receiving two shout-outs is beyond me. By the way Ma, he’s looking great once again in an upcoming action flick “3 Days to Kill”. Check out the trailer by clicking here.)
In the end, the book only takes a night to read. Not that you need to anymore. You’re welcome.
****
*Chapman, Gary D. The Five Love Languages. Chicago: Northfield Pub., 1992. Print.
Captain’s Log 