Being only a transplant to the southwest, I still get excited when things like this happen. I was looking out the window today and I actually saw a big lizard in my backyard. I actually said it out loud (cause I talk to myself); “Wow, there’ a big lizard in my backyard.” Then I wondered if that is where The Dead Milkmen got the name. A friend told me they are from Philadelphia. Still, it was a shrewd name for an album. The same way that Christmas songs resurface once a year to pay royalties, so shall I always think about the Dead Milkmen every time I see a big lizard in my backyard.

Friday the 13th (2009)

            Friday the 13th (1980; et al) as a franchise was always low concept in my opinion. Just like John Carpenter’s Halloween, Friday the 13th is really just the story of a killer who keeps coming back to kill for what ever reason. And I always thought that Friday the 13th was the weaker of the two. And the franchise really went off the deep end with serial killer Jason Voorhees getting into ridiculous situations such as visiting Manhattan, being sent to hell and battling Freddy Krueger among other things. John Carpenter had an edge to his slasher vehicle in the subtlety of his shooting style. Carpenter’s killer would appear sinisterly in the background, or suddenly from an inauspicious place. His use of light and style of filming became a standard of modern horror, where as Jason seemed to appear from nowhere, stand around and approach slowly so the victim could take him in. Jason has shed this habit a bit, and this new remake of Friday the 13th (2009) has benefitted. The creep factor of Jason Voorhees occasionally weighing his options rather than jumping out of shadows over and over again works. And really, that’s all that matters for a movie like this. So what we have is a story that has been told before, with more sophisticated filming. The scares are better in the realm of what the film is trying to accomplish. This remake cherry picks elements of the first few chapters and treats the story ark as if no one has been back to Crystal Lake in nearly thirty years, even though people have apparently been mysteriously disappearing. It doesn’t say much for the local law enforcement that they don’t drop by a deserted camp where people have been murdered once in a while to see if any missing persons were hanging around. As the filmmakers are trying a little harder, you now have to jump between your logic and the scares pretty quickly. “Why doesn’t she just run?” has been replaced with “could that have actually happened?” But for what it is, I thought the movie is worth watching. The only decision-making with regards to whether or not to see the film really lies in how much of a purist you want to be about the license taken with the original story. So, with that in mind, here is a list of elements from the franchise, old and new, that will either entice you in or warn you away.

Old elements returning in the film:

1. Despicable, self-absorbed college students go into the woods to have sex and do drugs.

2. Inhospitable, rural townspeople make you wonder why people would go near Crystal Lake in the first place.

3. Dead bodies are rigged to hang on the ceiling and fall when it is most likely to alarm a victim.

4. A man who has been living in the woods for thirty years since he was ten is capable of manipulating complicated electrical and phone equipment.

5. Machetes go “shliiing” every time you whip them out.

6. A dog scares someone.

7. One nicer, more tolerable girl thinks everyone else is acting like a jerk. Does she survive?

8. Jason really missed his calling as an archer.

9. We still don’t know what he eats.

Elements making their debut:

1. Intent to masturbate is now punishable by death. 

2. An African American survives for a while. 

3. Someone in the deep woods actually has a gun.

4. There is new insight into what Jason does with his free time. 

5. Jason seems slightly more bound by the elements of time and space. Did I say slightly? I mean slightly.

6. Everyone in a horror movie must now have a GPS that does not work.

7. Jason is a lot more resourceful with his terrorizing. Perhaps he has seen Saw.

8. Jason really missed his calling as a tunnel digger.

9. Finally, a hockey joke.

Last week while I was on the East Coast I was lucky enough to get tickets to see the Mummies at their Brooklyn, New York appearance. At times, it can be kind of depressing to see your favorite bands getting together and sweating to the oldies, but the Mummies still got it in a big way. Maybe it’s the costumes, but their show didn’t show any wear for age. I was in front of the club early waiting for a friend when they all came out in full costume and casually strolled down the street leaving the residents of Park Slope slack jawed. Even knowing that they were going to be dressed up didn’t lessen the blow for me. Four men dressed as mummies walking down a busy street can be sort of scary even if you are aware of what is going on and people got out of the way fast. They played well and made a lot of Steve Martin Jokes. Really a perfect evening for me. I don’t even have that much fun at shows anymore, but I thought they were great. Definitely worth seeing if they come around again. 

A band from Brooklyn called the Back CCs opened the show and played a furious rock and roll set in the vein of Teengenerate. Not knowing the band and having them smoke the way they did put the whole evening into a time warp for me; a magical night where you go to see an awesome band and find out about another awesome band. I was not able to find any recordings of them, but the Black CCs should be looked out for. I got a seven inch in the mail by a band from Brooklyn called the Ex-Humans and it was really cool too. Maybe rock and roll is  going to be ringing regularly from Brooklyn in the future. But I can’t be trusted, I am not much of a seer. I thought Starbucks would never catch on. 

I am back in Tucson after having been on the East Coast doing readings to promote Cramhole #3 and a poetry book I wrote called Reticent Notoriety and also playing shows with the Basement Apartments. I did some massive shopping and I will be back on the air tomorrow night at midnight with new records and a fresh outlook on life. 

The GROOVE TOMB

rock and roll on the radio 

tuesday’s at midnight.

Here is a list of awesome stores I found still kicking on the East Coast. Keep supporting those independent book and record stores:

Smash Records: Washington D.C.

Crooked Beat: Washington D.C.

Joe’s Record Paradise: Maryland

Red Onion: D.C.

St. Mark’s Books: New York

Generation Records: New York

Academy Annex: Brooklyn, New York

Record and Tape Exchange: Fairfax, Virginia

Vienna Music Exchange: Vienna, Virginia

CD Cellar: Arlington, Virginia

 THe BAsement Apartments played Asbury Park, New Jersey on Sunday at a punk rock paradise called Asbury Lanes, a bowling alley taken over and run by punk rockers. It was one of the coolest venues I have ever seen with a sound system, good food and free bowling. It was the last of four shows and one reading I have done on the East Coast in the past couple of weeks and all the bands and venues were awesome. It was a flawless string of shows and it really re-inspired my feelings about being in a band and whatnot. Thanks to everyone who set up the shows, all those who came out and those who bought zines. I left Tucson with one hundred various Cramhole and poetry zines in tow and I have three left in my suitcase. I spend a lot of time by myself these days and it means a lot to me to get out and play with some great bands and meet some new people.

Thanks and future support to these and other fine orgs:

The Homewreckers  

Mike Hunchback and his Weird Fantasy Band

The Electrocutions

The Bickersons

Hot Cha Cha

Zombie Dogs, Anna and Fatal Erection and 2 other bands that played at Tommy’s Tavern that night and were awesome.

Vicky and the Black Cat

Andy Gale Industries

Smash Records

Sam McPheeters 

People who loaned me bass amps.

You all keep punk rock alive. 

Drag Me to Hell (2009) 

Can you never go home? Going to the movies to see someone’s “return to form” is almost always disappointing. But Sam Raimi’s latest proves he has still got it in a big way. If you have seen the commercial, the plot is already established. If you haven’t seen the commercial, the tag line on the poster can catch you up. “Christine Brown has a good job, a great boyfriend and a bright future. But in three days, she is going to hell.” Brown (Allison Lohman) is a loan officer who denies an extension on an elderly (and gross) Hungarian woman’s mortgage.  The woman lays a heavy curse on Brown that you wouldn’t wish on anyone except perhaps a loan officer. I won’t give away the ending, but the ride is what is important here and Raimi has provided 99 minutes stuffed with dancing corpses, loud jumps, unreasonable blood spurts and goo accidentally flowing into orifices. Although it is sad that there is never a Bruce Campbell walk-on, (Raimi’s famous car does make an appearance), all the elements his fans would expect are there. Raimi seems to have re-defined his thing for a new generation. Hell is a diamond during a time when there seems to be no room for big budget horror movies with a shred of originality. Although we have seen some of this before, it comes across as refreshing. A real triumph for the genera and for the Raimi cannon. 

I keep thinking about Woody Allen’s Manhattan as I have been given a key to a posh SoHo apartment for a few days and have found little to occupy myself except walking to record stores and sitting in the park. I feel a generation of people have also been fooled by Annie Hall. If you are like me, you imagine New Yorkers endlessly sitting around cafes arguing about Met exhibition waiting for their friend’s independent films to premier at movie theaters around the corner. New York really brings out the idea I have that I’m possibly one of the most boring people in the world. I actually had to stop myself from eating at Subway this afternoon, although record store prices dictate that I should be eating out of the garbage can.

As if I had just walked out of a Lou Reed lyric,  I went to the movies one afternoon and saw 

Anvil: The Story of Anvil (2009) 

I was pretty sure there was no need to rush to see this movie because of all the good reviews. I don’t have an attitude about good reviews, but generally when things are popular regarding the subject of heavy metal, I generally picture a bunch of white liberals mechanically throwing up their index and pinky fingers in the air knowing full well that regardless of whether or not this gesture is meant at any given moment to be sincere or ironic, they are covered. I’m not a big fan of the metal scene. As much as I love heavy metal, the scene is generally pretty conformist and negative to change. It was not that long ago I was at a metal show and overheard the phrase “nigger beats.” But it goes without saying, worse than the metal scene are those who feel it is there solely to justify an after work whoop or tongue flick. 

But on the subject of the movie, it really is great. I’m not going to bore you with another account of how the band rose a little and fell and I’m not going to entice you with the “surprise” ending that really was not as big a surprise as it is being made out to be, but it really is the perfect balance of exposition and genuine emotion. Never once did I feel that the band were acting for the cameras and I’m sure a large part of the credit goes to Sacha Gervasi who is a fan close to the subject matter and seems to have kept his name at bay maximizing the band’s glory. Gervasi has created an amazing narrative that tells not only the story of a Canadian heavy metal band, but has outlined the story of anyone who has ever tried to be creative and gone unnoticed. A section towards the end of the movie shows Anvil exploring their record label options and exemplifies a clear microcosm of how there is little interest in artist development. This section of the film is posed with a relative talking about how Anvil has been washed up for a long time and just don’t realize it. All the work the band has put into a record is left to be judged solely by a record executive who is trying politely to tell the band that there is no bottom line. The band seems painfully unaware that they are being blown off. Here’s a test: do you imagine losers embarrassing themselves at a record company office or a company unwilling to take a risk on a record that they could probably make them a marginal profit?

 Although there are times when the band’s blind ambition is a little funny, their devotion to an art form in commendable and foreign to the standard of our times. I blame a generation obsessed with irony. There were laughs in the theater at what I considered to be the wrong times; laughs that indicted the members of the audience who felt they were watching a freak show. Gervasi handles his eccentric characters with the same care as the great documentary filmmaker Errol Morris. While we might be engaged in watching characters that have unusual outlooks, we are also aware that we are seeing characters who are important to the genetic  makeup of society. The Story of Anvil is a two-fold document of artistic expression. The film is a triumph and the music of Anvil is an model of outsider art brought into the public consciousness. 

I feel generally that you should do your best and take what comes, but I was finally pushed to write a TA about receiving a B in a class I thought I was doing well enough to get an A in. Of course, this is one of those classes with 100+ students where you watch a tiny dot talk for fifty minutes, then are left to the devices of a student teacher. Still, I thought I was doing well. I wrote good papers and did well on the quizzes.But fair enough, sometimes you are just out of the loop with how people perceive your performance. People don’t always mesh, and that is one of the lessons that you learn at school. Sometimes you are just not is synch with what is going on.

However, I did, on this one occasion, write what I considered a well worded and non-confrontational email asking where I went wrong. 

This was the response I got:

Hi Billups,

By University police, we can´t give you any grades via email. Yo need to contact Dr. XXXXXXXX, I gave her all your grades.Have a great summer! 

We should probably investigate. If the University police have that kind of power, they need to be taken down.

30 Days of Night (2008)

30 Days of Night is a film about Eastern European vampires with voice modulators who travel around in a big black (painted black? I’m not sure) cruise ship eating people. They have been at it for centuries and appear to be pretty good at the eating part, but fall short at their strategy sessions. These supernatural baddies are able to decapitate people fairly easily. So I have to ask, why didn’t they just swoop in and decapitate everyone all at once? Why did they bother secluding everyone first? It’s an easy fix. “We can’t do it all at once because ____.” But the seclusion element is, of course, the best part of the movie. The vampires hang around a small town in Alaska that is cut off from contact from the outside world for a month every year due to the extreme weather conditions.  After the storm begins, the vampires commence to eat everyone in sight, then on to the task of picking off some people who are hiding out in an attic. I don’t understand why a cache of people were safe in an attic when there were about twelve buildings and twenty-five vampires in the town, but if you throw these kinds of conventional logic out the window, 30 days is very watchable. I have not read the book, which I hear is superior, but the movie is good for the quandary Dawn of the Dead raised, what would you do if a bunch of people wanted to eat you? There is bound to be a deep psychological seed that keeps the idea of exploding past hoards of expendable bodies alive in the movies. There is a certain satisfaction in the idea of mowing down an crowd of people without the threat of accidentally taking out a nun or a country doctor. You just need a new angle each time. 30 Days is clever and fun for watching people fall into garbage shredders, shotgun shells exploding heads and nine-year-old girl vampires with Einsturzende Neubauten tattoos. Just never ask why. 

Smash Records is about one of my favorite places in the world. I’ll be reading at Smash on May 23rd opening for the spoken word stylings of former Born Against vocalist Sam McPheeters. For any nerds interested in poetry, I am going to have copies of my new poetry book, Reticent Notoriety, and copies of Cramhole #3 with me. 

Otherwise, I am happily putting my semester behind me. I got a C in German, which is a real coup to me because I thought I was failing.

Cramhole #3 is already availible from Smash Records, Fantasy Comics, and Atomic Books. Also through Dischord Direct and Microcosm Publishing.

More to come.