Wednesday, July 30, 2008
NOT EATEN BY BEARS
Yep, that's right, I survived the trip to Montana. I haven't, however, been able to find any updates on the fate of the besieged Russian scientists. Perhaps they have all been eaten and word has yet to get out. I hope not. Much as I think bears should be entitled to eat those people who encroach upon their territory - the food chain should not be tinkered with - I think the people who are being threatened with being consumed, should be able to fight back.
In Montana, while driving from my father's house to the west entrance of Glacier National Park, I did pass this place.
"Your Car is Your Cage" is one of the very best slogans I have ever encountered. So good that I've had moments of thinking I should have it tattooed upon my body. I would have to personalize it: "My Car is My Cage." It says so much about life in Los Angeles. I suppose it also says a lot about me that I can write that, believe it, and yet I love living here. I guess that, much like a long term zoo animal, I have become habituated to my environment.
I could never live in Montana. There's just not enough variety, not enough noise, not enough people, not enough of everything. While I was there I had occasion to think about California. It is arguably the single most varied, diverse - geographically, geologically, culturally, socially, economically, in every which way - place on the planet.
Still, I'm happy to visit other places and Montana certainly was beautiful:
The "Going to the Sun" highway in Glacier National Park. 
Avalanche Lake in Glacier National Park. 
McDonald Creek, Glacier National Park. 
My father, Martin Stone on the trail. The guy is astounding. The reason that I, and the rest of the family, were there was his 80th birthday. He led us all on a four mile hike. He was a bit disappointed with that. He had a much more strenuous 12-mile hike in mind that he could normally easily do. But, due to a recent problem with one of his legs he had to settle for the lesser march. Good thing. By the last third of a 12-mile hike he'd have had to carry me on his back. The thing is, he probably could. Plus, if that had been the case it would have made it far too easy for the bears to eat the both of us.
My upcoming book, FLIGHT OF THE HORNBILL, is dedicated to my father. If you like my books, if you find some of what I write in this blog of interest, if there are things you like or find interesting about the way I look at the world and write about what I see, you can thank, or blame, my father for a lot of that. I, for one, thank and love him for it.
In Montana, while driving from my father's house to the west entrance of Glacier National Park, I did pass this place.
"Your Car is Your Cage" is one of the very best slogans I have ever encountered. So good that I've had moments of thinking I should have it tattooed upon my body. I would have to personalize it: "My Car is My Cage." It says so much about life in Los Angeles. I suppose it also says a lot about me that I can write that, believe it, and yet I love living here. I guess that, much like a long term zoo animal, I have become habituated to my environment.I could never live in Montana. There's just not enough variety, not enough noise, not enough people, not enough of everything. While I was there I had occasion to think about California. It is arguably the single most varied, diverse - geographically, geologically, culturally, socially, economically, in every which way - place on the planet.
Still, I'm happy to visit other places and Montana certainly was beautiful:
The "Going to the Sun" highway in Glacier National Park. 
Avalanche Lake in Glacier National Park. 
McDonald Creek, Glacier National Park. 
My father, Martin Stone on the trail. The guy is astounding. The reason that I, and the rest of the family, were there was his 80th birthday. He led us all on a four mile hike. He was a bit disappointed with that. He had a much more strenuous 12-mile hike in mind that he could normally easily do. But, due to a recent problem with one of his legs he had to settle for the lesser march. Good thing. By the last third of a 12-mile hike he'd have had to carry me on his back. The thing is, he probably could. Plus, if that had been the case it would have made it far too easy for the bears to eat the both of us. My upcoming book, FLIGHT OF THE HORNBILL, is dedicated to my father. If you like my books, if you find some of what I write in this blog of interest, if there are things you like or find interesting about the way I look at the world and write about what I see, you can thank, or blame, my father for a lot of that. I, for one, thank and love him for it.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
dark knight wish list (number one).
Couldn't they at least have put a wee scene like this in to break the violent monotony of the movie?
Bon Jovi Poster
Bon Jovi Poster
Bon Jovi Poster 
Bon Jovi Poster
Metallica Poster
Metallica Poster
Poster MetallicaThursday, July 24, 2008
EATEN BY BEARS
They tell you that when you encounter a bear in the wild you're supposed to make yourself look big, make noise, stand your ground. If one actually charges you, fight back with all you've got, or play dead. There seems to be some disagreement on the matter.
Here's what I think. You're not going to win a fight with a bear. The bear is going to kill you and eat you. If you fight back, at least that will get your adrenalin pumping overtime. That will help your endorphins to kick in. And then it won't hurt as much when you are being eaten.
Or, if you are really lucky, your feeble attempts at fighting the bear will result in the bear killing you quick, rather than toying with you. And that's gotta be better than being eaten alive.
This is on my mind because tomorrow I am going to Montana. To a place where they have grizzly bears. Oh yeah, and I came across this article (click on the headline to read the whole, horrifying story): MAN EATING BEARS KILL TWO SCIENTISTS AND LAY SIEGE TO SURVIVORS TRAPPED IN REMOTE FOREST BASE.
Civilization has been a long, arduous march away from the woods. And I like to think of myself as a civilized man.
I once flew for three-and-a-half hours in a single-engined plane, not too far over unbroken forest canopy to a mud landing strip in the highlands of Central Kalimantan, the Indonesian part of Borneo. At one point we flew over the wreckage of an identical plane that had crash-landed onto the tops of the hundred or more foot tall trees.
None of that made me nervous. The two day trek along a well-kept path in the jungle to a remote longhouse of the Kenyah tribe, was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life.
I nearly died of fright when a snake flew overhead.
That's right, flew. It was a bright blue snake, poisonous of course. It actually glides from tree to tree by flattening out its body and catching air. The other people in my party were delighted to catch a glimpse of this wonder of nature. I just felt inadequately armed and armored.
The last time I went camping was around 1977 or '78. My then girlfriend Chris, and I, went to the Stanley Basin in Idaho. Even I will admit that it is one of the most beautiful places on the planet. We spent the day fly-fishing. Well, she did, I'm incompetent at that sort of thing. She caught dinner and I cleaned it and cooked it. I'm good at that sort of thing. (But I must confess that I don't like trout, no matter how fresh. I prefer saltwater fish.) We went to sleep in our bags under the trees - no tent, but we were near the car.
In the morning I was woken up by a terrible chattering. I looked straight up into the gaping maws of doom. I shrieked, rolled away from the tree, broke from my sleeping bag and made a mad dash for the safety of the car. Chris, terrified by my reaction, quickly followed.
It was a squirrel. Clinging upside down to the tree, staring into my face and nattering on about something or another. Hey, maybe it was a rabid squirrel.
I don't like the woods. They scare me. I realize it's illogical, but drop me off in the middle of the most violence-prone, crime-ridden urban neighborhood in the world and I might be wary, but I'm comfortable.
I know full well that bears and squirrels and flying snakes don't carry guns; and that I'm about a thousand times (or more) more likely to be shot to death by a fellow human than I am to be eaten, poisoned or scratched to death by any other animal. But that's just the way it is.
Those of you who like the woods should be glad. You don't have me around to mess them up for you.
Here's what I think. You're not going to win a fight with a bear. The bear is going to kill you and eat you. If you fight back, at least that will get your adrenalin pumping overtime. That will help your endorphins to kick in. And then it won't hurt as much when you are being eaten.
Or, if you are really lucky, your feeble attempts at fighting the bear will result in the bear killing you quick, rather than toying with you. And that's gotta be better than being eaten alive.
This is on my mind because tomorrow I am going to Montana. To a place where they have grizzly bears. Oh yeah, and I came across this article (click on the headline to read the whole, horrifying story): MAN EATING BEARS KILL TWO SCIENTISTS AND LAY SIEGE TO SURVIVORS TRAPPED IN REMOTE FOREST BASE.
Civilization has been a long, arduous march away from the woods. And I like to think of myself as a civilized man.
I once flew for three-and-a-half hours in a single-engined plane, not too far over unbroken forest canopy to a mud landing strip in the highlands of Central Kalimantan, the Indonesian part of Borneo. At one point we flew over the wreckage of an identical plane that had crash-landed onto the tops of the hundred or more foot tall trees.
None of that made me nervous. The two day trek along a well-kept path in the jungle to a remote longhouse of the Kenyah tribe, was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life.
I nearly died of fright when a snake flew overhead.
That's right, flew. It was a bright blue snake, poisonous of course. It actually glides from tree to tree by flattening out its body and catching air. The other people in my party were delighted to catch a glimpse of this wonder of nature. I just felt inadequately armed and armored.
The last time I went camping was around 1977 or '78. My then girlfriend Chris, and I, went to the Stanley Basin in Idaho. Even I will admit that it is one of the most beautiful places on the planet. We spent the day fly-fishing. Well, she did, I'm incompetent at that sort of thing. She caught dinner and I cleaned it and cooked it. I'm good at that sort of thing. (But I must confess that I don't like trout, no matter how fresh. I prefer saltwater fish.) We went to sleep in our bags under the trees - no tent, but we were near the car.
In the morning I was woken up by a terrible chattering. I looked straight up into the gaping maws of doom. I shrieked, rolled away from the tree, broke from my sleeping bag and made a mad dash for the safety of the car. Chris, terrified by my reaction, quickly followed.
It was a squirrel. Clinging upside down to the tree, staring into my face and nattering on about something or another. Hey, maybe it was a rabid squirrel.
I don't like the woods. They scare me. I realize it's illogical, but drop me off in the middle of the most violence-prone, crime-ridden urban neighborhood in the world and I might be wary, but I'm comfortable.
I know full well that bears and squirrels and flying snakes don't carry guns; and that I'm about a thousand times (or more) more likely to be shot to death by a fellow human than I am to be eaten, poisoned or scratched to death by any other animal. But that's just the way it is.
Those of you who like the woods should be glad. You don't have me around to mess them up for you.
acting the goat.
L’Anticristo (AKA The Tempter, The Antichrist, Besatt. 1974-ish).
Dir: Alberto De Martino.
Cast: Carla Gravina, Mel Ferrer, Arthur Kennedy, George Coulouris, Anita Strindberg, Alida Valli, Mario Scaccia and Umberto Orsini.
Poor Ippolita Oderisi (Gravina) not only cursed with pube like ginger hair but, due to her dad Massimo's (Ferrer-no introduction necessary) reckless driving causing a crash and killing her mother when she was twelve years old she's now confined to a wheelchair as well.
Ten years later and just about every doctor in Italy (including Giovanni Frezza and Dr. Butcher MD no doubt) have given her the once over and not a single one of them can find anything wrong with her spine (her haircut is another story however) yet she can barely lift herself out of her wheelchair and has to stand with the aid of a cane.
Lazy cow.
Massimo, obviously fed up with being made to feel guilty over his daughters indolence (oh and killing her mum whilst pissed) decides to take her to a wee church deep in the countryside where a frighteningly butch and bright blue for someone unknown reason, statue of the Virgin Mary is reputed to have miraculous healing powers.
And a love of KD Lang obviously.
Surrounded by a throng of scarily praying pikeys and filled with the love of God Ippolita attempts to stand.....and promptly falls flat on her (harsh) face.
Whilst her dad is mortified (at least the locals are grateful for such a good laugh first thing in the morning) Ippolita seems almost nonchalant about the whole thing, almost as tho' she expected God to ignore her. You see it appears that she's been having blasphemous thoughts (mostly about a really pervy painting of Jesus, resplendent with a huge 14 inch cock and balls leatherier than Sean Connery's), confessing as much to her uncle who just happens to be the local bishop (another top turn from everyones favourite drunken Oirish man Kennedy) .
Arthur prepares to position his favourite choir boy.
And if that wasn't enough, she's also taken to having nasty violent thoughts about her dad's new squeeze Greta (big boned Strindberg from Fulci's classic Lizard in a Woman’s Skin), you see Ippolita is insane with jealousy at the mere thought of her father showing affection toward anyone but her.
Grow up hen.
It's not long before nearly all of Ippolitia’s family (and even the maid) are mightily pissed off with her frankly childish behavior and come to the conclusion that she needs locking up.
Her uncle, as it happens, knows a good psychiatrist, Dr. Marcello Sinibaldi (Orsini the camp as pants 'star' of Diary of a Cloistered Nun) to attend a big bash at the family villa, the idea being that they can check out lil' miss mentalism without her being any the wiser.
Sneaky.
Unluckily for them (and a huge surprise for us) Ippolita has psychic powers and sees right through the pairs plan, but she doesn't throw a stroppy fit (for a change) as she's vaguely interested by Sinibaldi’s claim that her paralysis is really psychosomatic, and that he can cure her of both it and her mentalism by hypnotic regression.
Ippolita, well up for a wee bit of hypnotic regression (but aren't we all?) turns up at (well, wheels in to if I'm honest) the dishy docs office and is quickly under his spell so to speak and after the obvious pretend you're a sheep and eat this onion it's really an apple gags something interesting happens.
For the first time so far in this movie I hasten to add.
You see, it turns out that one of her ancestors was burned at the stake for witchcraft some 500 years ago (for, amongst other things eating a toad and, I kid you not, rimming a goat - in glorious technicolour!). Unluckily this deep, dark family memory inadvertently triggers a case of demonic possession!
Starting with the obvious (you know talking in a deep, sexy voice in various languages - or is that just the abysmal dubbing?) she soon moves onto more impressive stuff like psychokinesis (well, she moves some plant pots and a chest of drawers) and, most amazing of all, walking!
And how does she use her new found mobility? Well as anyone in this situation would, she uses it to sneak out of her villa to seduce (then snap the necks of) young Germans.
Sinibaldi tries his best to think up a reasonable scientific explanation for everything that's going on but is frankly stumped whilst Irene (the aforementioned nanny/maid/hired help) secretly phones the local expert in the art of folk magic (Scaccia).
Pity everyone in the movie is a devout Catholic and all tut and umm at the use of so called 'magic', reckoning that any such power can ultimately be linked to the devil himself, meaning that his flashy words and wizardy tricks are totally useless against Ippolita.
Arse.
Finally, the bishop (who's obviously taken so long to get to the phone because he can only move diagonally) rings exorcist for hire Father Jeff Mittner (The Woman Eater's Coulouris) who, from watching him at work appears to have just viewed The Exorcist about a hundred times and made extensive notes, seeing as the whole service/movies ever building climax is lifted almost wholesale from that film).
But can he sort out the pesky demon once and for all?
Cue a frighteningly long and wordy exorcism complete with a floating lady, vomit, seductive glances, green facepainted nipples and an utterly terrifying Tefal headed, Rod Stewart wigged Ippolita swearing alot.
Your mum in her best clothes on a night out.
But, in a shocking turn of events the film suddenly becomes a (very) cut rate Rosemary’s Baby, with the shocking reveal that the true purpose for Ippolita’s possession is for her to carry the baby Antichrist (in her tummy, not in a Moses basket).
Will the might of Catholicism be enough to avert the birth of the devil himself?
Seriously, what do you think?
Alberto De Martino's fantastically crass retread of The Exorcist (to name but one 'influence') boldly goes where other cheap Euro' rip-offs fear to tread. Whereas most cash-ins cut back on expensive effects, name actors and the like L’Anticristo positively revels in it's cut price glory, featuring as it does not one but two Hollywood has-beens and brilliantly conceived (and not to mention insanely bonkers) stand out set-pieces.
Kennedy and Ferrer give us more ham than a butchers market and in an attempt to outdo Linda Blair floating above a bed, L’Anticristo has Gravina not only rising out of her wheelchair, but gracefully gliding out of an open window and entertaining us with an airbourne dancer number.
But the movies greatest scene must be when Ippolita's possessed right hand floats across the room and starts to strangle the white wizard man.
DiMartino’s direction is desperate — you can almost feel his ultimately futile attempts to make an honest to goodness scary movie collapse around him. Luckily he had the amazing Aristide Massaccesi working as his Director of Photography to help save the day.
And who the hell is Aristide Massaccesi? I hear you cry.
Well, he's none other than the cinematic god also known as Joe D’Amato , so it's probably him we have to thank for the classic devil worshiping scene, featuring as it does kinky naked orgies, the eating of a toad and the aforementioned goat/tongue/arse interface.
D'Amato we salute you!
Oh, and De Martino, you did not bad yerself big fella.
Top-notch thrills for lovers of devil movies, harsh ginger birds and goat sex everywhere.
An essential purchase (if not a wholly legal one).
Dir: Alberto De Martino.
Cast: Carla Gravina, Mel Ferrer, Arthur Kennedy, George Coulouris, Anita Strindberg, Alida Valli, Mario Scaccia and Umberto Orsini.
"I've been waiting 400 years but I piss on that time!"
Poor Ippolita Oderisi (Gravina) not only cursed with pube like ginger hair but, due to her dad Massimo's (Ferrer-no introduction necessary) reckless driving causing a crash and killing her mother when she was twelve years old she's now confined to a wheelchair as well.
Ten years later and just about every doctor in Italy (including Giovanni Frezza and Dr. Butcher MD no doubt) have given her the once over and not a single one of them can find anything wrong with her spine (her haircut is another story however) yet she can barely lift herself out of her wheelchair and has to stand with the aid of a cane.
Lazy cow.
Massimo, obviously fed up with being made to feel guilty over his daughters indolence (oh and killing her mum whilst pissed) decides to take her to a wee church deep in the countryside where a frighteningly butch and bright blue for someone unknown reason, statue of the Virgin Mary is reputed to have miraculous healing powers.
And a love of KD Lang obviously.
Lang: lesbian.
Surrounded by a throng of scarily praying pikeys and filled with the love of God Ippolita attempts to stand.....and promptly falls flat on her (harsh) face.
Harsh.
Whilst her dad is mortified (at least the locals are grateful for such a good laugh first thing in the morning) Ippolita seems almost nonchalant about the whole thing, almost as tho' she expected God to ignore her. You see it appears that she's been having blasphemous thoughts (mostly about a really pervy painting of Jesus, resplendent with a huge 14 inch cock and balls leatherier than Sean Connery's), confessing as much to her uncle who just happens to be the local bishop (another top turn from everyones favourite drunken Oirish man Kennedy) .
Arthur prepares to position his favourite choir boy.
And if that wasn't enough, she's also taken to having nasty violent thoughts about her dad's new squeeze Greta (big boned Strindberg from Fulci's classic Lizard in a Woman’s Skin), you see Ippolita is insane with jealousy at the mere thought of her father showing affection toward anyone but her.
Grow up hen.
Fuck the satanic possession....check the tie!
It's not long before nearly all of Ippolitia’s family (and even the maid) are mightily pissed off with her frankly childish behavior and come to the conclusion that she needs locking up.
Her uncle, as it happens, knows a good psychiatrist, Dr. Marcello Sinibaldi (Orsini the camp as pants 'star' of Diary of a Cloistered Nun) to attend a big bash at the family villa, the idea being that they can check out lil' miss mentalism without her being any the wiser.
Sneaky.
Unluckily for them (and a huge surprise for us) Ippolita has psychic powers and sees right through the pairs plan, but she doesn't throw a stroppy fit (for a change) as she's vaguely interested by Sinibaldi’s claim that her paralysis is really psychosomatic, and that he can cure her of both it and her mentalism by hypnotic regression.
"You've got shite in yer mooth again hen".
Ippolita, well up for a wee bit of hypnotic regression (but aren't we all?) turns up at (well, wheels in to if I'm honest) the dishy docs office and is quickly under his spell so to speak and after the obvious pretend you're a sheep and eat this onion it's really an apple gags something interesting happens.
For the first time so far in this movie I hasten to add.
You see, it turns out that one of her ancestors was burned at the stake for witchcraft some 500 years ago (for, amongst other things eating a toad and, I kid you not, rimming a goat - in glorious technicolour!). Unluckily this deep, dark family memory inadvertently triggers a case of demonic possession!
"Sorry father, I farted".
Starting with the obvious (you know talking in a deep, sexy voice in various languages - or is that just the abysmal dubbing?) she soon moves onto more impressive stuff like psychokinesis (well, she moves some plant pots and a chest of drawers) and, most amazing of all, walking!
And how does she use her new found mobility? Well as anyone in this situation would, she uses it to sneak out of her villa to seduce (then snap the necks of) young Germans.
Sinibaldi tries his best to think up a reasonable scientific explanation for everything that's going on but is frankly stumped whilst Irene (the aforementioned nanny/maid/hired help) secretly phones the local expert in the art of folk magic (Scaccia).
Pity everyone in the movie is a devout Catholic and all tut and umm at the use of so called 'magic', reckoning that any such power can ultimately be linked to the devil himself, meaning that his flashy words and wizardy tricks are totally useless against Ippolita.
Arse.
"Tongue on mah pillow".
(But luckily not up a goats arsehole).
(But luckily not up a goats arsehole).
Finally, the bishop (who's obviously taken so long to get to the phone because he can only move diagonally) rings exorcist for hire Father Jeff Mittner (The Woman Eater's Coulouris) who, from watching him at work appears to have just viewed The Exorcist about a hundred times and made extensive notes, seeing as the whole service/movies ever building climax is lifted almost wholesale from that film).
But can he sort out the pesky demon once and for all?
Cue a frighteningly long and wordy exorcism complete with a floating lady, vomit, seductive glances, green facepainted nipples and an utterly terrifying Tefal headed, Rod Stewart wigged Ippolita swearing alot.
Your mum in her best clothes on a night out.
But, in a shocking turn of events the film suddenly becomes a (very) cut rate Rosemary’s Baby, with the shocking reveal that the true purpose for Ippolita’s possession is for her to carry the baby Antichrist (in her tummy, not in a Moses basket).
Will the might of Catholicism be enough to avert the birth of the devil himself?
Seriously, what do you think?
Alberto De Martino's fantastically crass retread of The Exorcist (to name but one 'influence') boldly goes where other cheap Euro' rip-offs fear to tread. Whereas most cash-ins cut back on expensive effects, name actors and the like L’Anticristo positively revels in it's cut price glory, featuring as it does not one but two Hollywood has-beens and brilliantly conceived (and not to mention insanely bonkers) stand out set-pieces.
Kennedy and Ferrer give us more ham than a butchers market and in an attempt to outdo Linda Blair floating above a bed, L’Anticristo has Gravina not only rising out of her wheelchair, but gracefully gliding out of an open window and entertaining us with an airbourne dancer number.
Well, it's not just John Wayne who's big leggy.
But the movies greatest scene must be when Ippolita's possessed right hand floats across the room and starts to strangle the white wizard man.
DiMartino’s direction is desperate — you can almost feel his ultimately futile attempts to make an honest to goodness scary movie collapse around him. Luckily he had the amazing Aristide Massaccesi working as his Director of Photography to help save the day.
And who the hell is Aristide Massaccesi? I hear you cry.
Well, he's none other than the cinematic god also known as Joe D’Amato , so it's probably him we have to thank for the classic devil worshiping scene, featuring as it does kinky naked orgies, the eating of a toad and the aforementioned goat/tongue/arse interface.
D'Amato we salute you!
And the ass saw the angle was
slightly wrong for a good photograph.
slightly wrong for a good photograph.
Oh, and De Martino, you did not bad yerself big fella.
Top-notch thrills for lovers of devil movies, harsh ginger birds and goat sex everywhere.
An essential purchase (if not a wholly legal one).
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
people you fancy but shouldn't (part five).
Pippa Wired from the classic (but never reprinted) Philip Bond strip Wired World. I hate to admit it but I once dated someone because they looked quite similar.
Sad eh?
Sad eh?
gettin' lippy with it.
Crazy Lips (Hakkyousuru kuchibiru, 2000)
Dir: Sasaki Hirohisa
Cast: Miwa Hitomi, Suzuki Kazuma, Osugi Ren, Abe Hiroshi, Natsukawa Hijiri, Yura Yoshiko, Kuribayashi Tomomi, Yumi Yoshiyuki, Suzuki Ikko
Obviously aiming for the title of world's most dysfunctional family (or at least a Jeremy Kyle show all to themselves), the Kuramashi's are a tough act to beat.
Not only have they spent years in hiding due to the fact that daddy Kuramashi was executed for being a depraved serial killer but it looks like number one son Michio (Kazuma) may be following in his fathers footsteps after being accused of the vile slaughter of four teenage girls.
Unfortunately for the rest of the family Michio has gone into hiding, leaving his heartbroken mum (Yoshiyuki, star of Killer Pussy and the classic Queen Peach) and his young sisters, Satomi (long faced Hitomi, she of Ju-On: The Curse, Last Supper and Misa the Dark Angel) and Kaori (Hijiri, don't recognise here from owt, sorry) to face the snide comments, bullying ways and verbal abuse from the local police, the gutter press and even the neighbours (tho' not Madge because she's a nice lady).
They family rise every morning to find paparazzi scum and teevee news crews camped out amongst their begonias, a filthy bastard copper (Ikko from the lactate-tasic Visitor Q) kicking at their door, wearing his shoes in the house and slurping his coffee loudly whilst taking every opportunity to mess up the family kitchen and strangers lobbing rubbish bins thru' their windows.
It's not too surprising then when the Kuramashi's youngest daughter Satomi, desperate to find the identity of the real killer hires a spooky psychic named Mamiya (Yoshiko from the arthouse classic Spanking Love) and her ratty Michael Barrymore of a minder Toumato come over to the family home to perform a séance with the hope of contacting the victims who, in turn can name the mentalist murderer.
It's a wee bit like Eastenders really, but without the ugly birds.
On paper this may sound like quite a good plan till you realise that the dead girls had their heads cut off so are unable to spill the beans.
Arse.
Resourceful as ever Mamiya has a back up plan and orders Satomi to search across town for the missing heads (obvious really) but her help comes at a price.
Realising that the family don't have a spare ¥5,000,000 lying around (or even hidden in the mattress) the psychic offers to continue helping if Satomi allows Touma to forcibly take Mrs. Kuramashi from behind.
Sorry, did I say Eastenders? I really meant Emmerdale.
Unable to concentrate on her chores with all the noise coming from her mother and Touma, Satomi sneaks out to the local kiddies play park for a nice wee musical interlude and a quick chat with the tres foxy (and very ginger) FBI agent Lucy (Tomomi) and her Japanese sidekick, Narimoto (Hiroshi the one that wasn't the giant lizard in Godzilla 2000).
Recruiting her to work for a secret organisation dedicated to fighting evil cults and rubber monsters, Satomi is given her orders by the even more mysterious bespectacled 'Colonel' (Ren) who disguises himself as a reality teevee host and communicates to her via the TV set in the living room.
You see, it appears that the FBI have evidence that Mamiya and Touma are leaders of a maniacal cult determined to awaken an ancient Lovecraftian monster by harnessing the sexual energies released from taking Mrs. Kuramashi up the casino and forcing Satomi to have sex with the hanging (yet still stiff) corpse of the bad boy copper from earlier.
Whilst all this is happening the ghostly girl victims are getting closer to finding their heads but will they be able to reveal the killers true identity before the evil monster returns from his slumber or someone accidentaly launches an all out nuclear attack on the unfortunate Kuramashi family?
I drew this.
From the writer of Ringu, the producer of Ju-On: The Grudge, and the executive producer of Audition (as the DVD cover proudly proclaims) Crazy Lips was heralded as Japan's answer to the (by then long dead) teevee hit The X Files but with added anal violation and death by dildo but minus the drawback of having to look at David Duchovny's horse like face.
"Rubber cock in mah mooth!"
Lulling it's audience into a false sense of security by starting out like any number of bog standard late-90’s J-horror movies, thirty minutes in Crazy Lips takes a sudden and unexpected U-turn, overturns and smashes any preconceptions the viewer may have about the unfolding story before morphing into into a chaotic car crash of a movie, throwing headless ghosts, dark cults a smattering of kung fu and necrophiliac rape into the mix as if the film makers were hoping at least one of the ingredients would work in context of the story.
It's not sexist, it's just a very pretty bra.
Dir: Sasaki Hirohisa
Cast: Miwa Hitomi, Suzuki Kazuma, Osugi Ren, Abe Hiroshi, Natsukawa Hijiri, Yura Yoshiko, Kuribayashi Tomomi, Yumi Yoshiyuki, Suzuki Ikko
Obviously aiming for the title of world's most dysfunctional family (or at least a Jeremy Kyle show all to themselves), the Kuramashi's are a tough act to beat.
Not only have they spent years in hiding due to the fact that daddy Kuramashi was executed for being a depraved serial killer but it looks like number one son Michio (Kazuma) may be following in his fathers footsteps after being accused of the vile slaughter of four teenage girls.
Unfortunately for the rest of the family Michio has gone into hiding, leaving his heartbroken mum (Yoshiyuki, star of Killer Pussy and the classic Queen Peach) and his young sisters, Satomi (long faced Hitomi, she of Ju-On: The Curse, Last Supper and Misa the Dark Angel) and Kaori (Hijiri, don't recognise here from owt, sorry) to face the snide comments, bullying ways and verbal abuse from the local police, the gutter press and even the neighbours (tho' not Madge because she's a nice lady).
Japan's answer to Mulder and Scully...minus
Gillian Anderson's post stroke face.
Gillian Anderson's post stroke face.
They family rise every morning to find paparazzi scum and teevee news crews camped out amongst their begonias, a filthy bastard copper (Ikko from the lactate-tasic Visitor Q) kicking at their door, wearing his shoes in the house and slurping his coffee loudly whilst taking every opportunity to mess up the family kitchen and strangers lobbing rubbish bins thru' their windows.
It's not too surprising then when the Kuramashi's youngest daughter Satomi, desperate to find the identity of the real killer hires a spooky psychic named Mamiya (Yoshiko from the arthouse classic Spanking Love) and her ratty Michael Barrymore of a minder Toumato come over to the family home to perform a séance with the hope of contacting the victims who, in turn can name the mentalist murderer.
It's a wee bit like Eastenders really, but without the ugly birds.
On paper this may sound like quite a good plan till you realise that the dead girls had their heads cut off so are unable to spill the beans.
Arse.
It's Pants.
Resourceful as ever Mamiya has a back up plan and orders Satomi to search across town for the missing heads (obvious really) but her help comes at a price.
Realising that the family don't have a spare ¥5,000,000 lying around (or even hidden in the mattress) the psychic offers to continue helping if Satomi allows Touma to forcibly take Mrs. Kuramashi from behind.
Sorry, did I say Eastenders? I really meant Emmerdale.
My kind of people like it up the arse. Yesch.
Unable to concentrate on her chores with all the noise coming from her mother and Touma, Satomi sneaks out to the local kiddies play park for a nice wee musical interlude and a quick chat with the tres foxy (and very ginger) FBI agent Lucy (Tomomi) and her Japanese sidekick, Narimoto (Hiroshi the one that wasn't the giant lizard in Godzilla 2000).
Recruiting her to work for a secret organisation dedicated to fighting evil cults and rubber monsters, Satomi is given her orders by the even more mysterious bespectacled 'Colonel' (Ren) who disguises himself as a reality teevee host and communicates to her via the TV set in the living room.
"Where's me washboard?"
You see, it appears that the FBI have evidence that Mamiya and Touma are leaders of a maniacal cult determined to awaken an ancient Lovecraftian monster by harnessing the sexual energies released from taking Mrs. Kuramashi up the casino and forcing Satomi to have sex with the hanging (yet still stiff) corpse of the bad boy copper from earlier.
Whilst all this is happening the ghostly girl victims are getting closer to finding their heads but will they be able to reveal the killers true identity before the evil monster returns from his slumber or someone accidentaly launches an all out nuclear attack on the unfortunate Kuramashi family?
I drew this.
"Rubber cock in mah mooth!"
Lulling it's audience into a false sense of security by starting out like any number of bog standard late-90’s J-horror movies, thirty minutes in Crazy Lips takes a sudden and unexpected U-turn, overturns and smashes any preconceptions the viewer may have about the unfolding story before morphing into into a chaotic car crash of a movie, throwing headless ghosts, dark cults a smattering of kung fu and necrophiliac rape into the mix as if the film makers were hoping at least one of the ingredients would work in context of the story.
It's not sexist, it's just a very pretty bra.
Not always enjoyable (hell some of it isn't even that watchable) but always interesting to look at, Crazy Lips (and it's sequel Gore From Outer Space) is the type of lazy Sunday afternoon movie that both you and your gran will enjoy.
If, like mine your gran likes a wee bit of necrophilia at the weekend.
If, like mine your gran likes a wee bit of necrophilia at the weekend.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
snail of the century.
Aenigma (AKA Daemonia, Internado diabolico, L’enigme. 1987).
Dir: Lucio Fulci
Cast: Jared Martin, Lara Naszinski, Ulli Reinthaler, Sophie d'Aulan, Jennifer Naud, Milijana Zirojevic, Ricardo Acerbi, Lijlijana Blagojevic.
Dir: Lucio Fulci
Cast: Jared Martin, Lara Naszinski, Ulli Reinthaler, Sophie d'Aulan, Jennifer Naud, Milijana Zirojevic, Ricardo Acerbi, Lijlijana Blagojevic.
"I may have a fat ass, but if you slap it one more time, I’ll slap your face!"
Pug eyed Cherie Blair alike Kathy (Zirojevic - bless you) is the friendless class freak at the bizarrely European Saint Mary’s College in Boston. With her scary Lego hair, permanently surprised expression and ickle thin legs Kathy spends her days dreaming about the studly gym teacher Fred Vernon (slick quiffed sex god Acerbi).
"(Pop) eyed son!"
One day completely out of the blue Fred asks lil ms. mousy out on a date (to the 'dancing' no less) and, stunned by her new found good luck gets ready for the night of her life with the knight of her dreams (to the funky sound of the Euro-pop hit 'Head over Meels' I kid you not).
Pulling his Jeep over on a secluded wooded path, Fred starts to work his manly magic on Kathy, whispering sweet nothings and working the poor lass into a wild unbridled frenzy of naughty thoughts and sweaty thighs.
Unbeknown to Kathy tho', the couple are surrounded by her evil classmates, their cars parked just out of sight and all tuned into the secret two way radio in Fred's car.
The swine.
Giggling happily to themselves as Kathy's breathing gets deeper and Fred's dialogue gets far cheesier than you would think possible the band of baddies flash their headlights with a whoop just as Kathy thinks she's about to do the dirty with the vile Vernon.
Understandibly humiliated (and not a wee bit affronted by the turn of events) she leaps from the car and legs it back to the college with her cruel classmates in hot pursuit.
Chased onto a main road unlucky Kathy is hit by an oncoming motorist, bouncing across the bonnet and ending up comatose and in intensive care.
Ouch.
"Tubes in mah mooth!"
Confusingly cutting back to the school for no apparent reason, new girl Eva Gordon (Naszinsky; star of A Blade in the Dark and cousin of Nastassja Kinski no less) has just arrived at Saint Mary's ready to settle in for a hard term of studying (or as she puts it "...a successful year means making out with as many boys as possible”).
Saucy minx.
But there's something very strange about Eva, not just the fact that the film keeps cutting to shots of Kathy as the new girl walks up some stairs but things like her not knowing where she was born and finding lighters hidden in drawers.
Spooky biscuits.
Luckily for Eva her roommate Jenny (square jawed Reinthaler from Zombi 3 or is that Zombi 4?) thinks nothing of it and welcomes the new girl into the local bitch squad whilst Eva sets her lustful sights on Fred and his kick flared, stay-press jeans.
Being a Fulci film tho' it's not long before some bizarre (and badly plotted) shit starts 'going down' as the youngsters say.
Fred is the first to fall foul to the strangeness when, after an argument about buckets with hairy Mary the college janitor (and mother of Kathy) he's chocked to death by his own reflection before he's even had a chance to touch Eva's hemline, poor sod (him not her).
The local police led by what looks like MTV's Zane Lowe (and director Fulci in a cameo as an old man in a tramps coat) decide that he died of a heart attack and leave it at that.
Everything continues as normal, the girls bitch, smoke and wear frighteningly short hotpants whilst the Super Nanny like headmistress Ms. Jones (Blagojevic) wanders around the corridors in a disappointingly none lesbian manner unaware that there's a pretty good chance that Kathy's spirit has returned for revenge.
Could she be controlling Eva?
Things come to a head after Eva viciously beats Jenny with a stuffed Giraffe before collapsing onto her bed in a sweatily unconscious state whilst pulling what can only be termed her best cum face.
Enter the sexy neurologist cum crime fighter and ex Blow Monkeys frontman Doctor Robert (pubed headed US teevee heart throb and star of Fantastic Journey and that 80's War of The Worlds series Martin) who appears to be the only character in the movie with any idea that something maybe, oh so slightly amiss.
You see he's noticed that there are rather alarming changes in Kathy's brainwaves during (and after) each mysterious death.
That's not all he's noticed tho' seeing as he appears to have a thing for underage totty, Eva being a case in point.
Dr. Robert: diggin' your scene.
Before long Dr. Robert has entered (oooeeerrr) a full blow affair with Eva and Kathy is making the hospital machines bleep whilst her old classmates start dying in even more ludicrous ways – including naked suffocation by snails (featuring some fantastically inappropriate shots of said shelled beasties sliming across an erect plastic nipple) and being hugged to death by a paper mache statue of what looks like Brian Blessed.
Whilst all this is happening Dr. Robert starts imagining the glisteningly ample arsed Eva and himself in sweaty sex scenes that culminate in her biting off his nipples and tongue to a sub Goblin rock soundtrack.
Suffice to say that Rob is fairly relieved when Eva's folk decide to kidnap her from the school and lock her up in a mental asylum, for one thing it means he can now starting shagging the class whore Grace (the slightly stocky Naud) without fear of losing his nips, bladder control etc and for another it means he can spend much more valuable screen time wandering aimlessly in and out of Kathy's room whilst tutting at the monitors.
All seems well till late one night Eva escapes from Shady Nook with the idea of being re-united with her true love.
Oh and to commit some more murders.....
Fulci's little seen psycho-babbling B-movie opus Aenigma, whilst not being one of his best works is nowhere near the shocking nadir his career would reach with the likes of Cat in The Brain.
Obviously influenced (at least visually) by Argento's Inferno, Fulci delivers his trademark oppressive atmosphere, over the top gore and cheap and nasty sleaze but unfortunately also features the inane dialogue and muddy plotting that is the signature of much of Fulci's later work.
"Come sleep in mah bed".
But there's still much to enjoy; from the aforementioned slug scene to the scary Tom Cruise poster adorning the wall of Grace's room via the bizarre (and cheap) use of the same beheading scene to show the whole college campus being murdered and possibly cinema's sweatiest and most unnecessary greased arse sex scene.
Totally bonkers and infinitely watchable, Aenigma is the best of the worst of Italian horror, you can almost imagine the opening lyrics being written about Fulci himself: “Put on your make-up, your eyes are blue enough, tonight is special for you... You’re gonna see that dream come true..."
Or maybe not.
Saucy minx.
But there's something very strange about Eva, not just the fact that the film keeps cutting to shots of Kathy as the new girl walks up some stairs but things like her not knowing where she was born and finding lighters hidden in drawers.
Spooky biscuits.
Luckily for Eva her roommate Jenny (square jawed Reinthaler from Zombi 3 or is that Zombi 4?) thinks nothing of it and welcomes the new girl into the local bitch squad whilst Eva sets her lustful sights on Fred and his kick flared, stay-press jeans.
"Then I saw her face...now I'm a mad Eva!"
Being a Fulci film tho' it's not long before some bizarre (and badly plotted) shit starts 'going down' as the youngsters say.
Fred is the first to fall foul to the strangeness when, after an argument about buckets with hairy Mary the college janitor (and mother of Kathy) he's chocked to death by his own reflection before he's even had a chance to touch Eva's hemline, poor sod (him not her).
The local police led by what looks like MTV's Zane Lowe (and director Fulci in a cameo as an old man in a tramps coat) decide that he died of a heart attack and leave it at that.
"Can you show me where he
touched you on this picture son?"
touched you on this picture son?"
Everything continues as normal, the girls bitch, smoke and wear frighteningly short hotpants whilst the Super Nanny like headmistress Ms. Jones (Blagojevic) wanders around the corridors in a disappointingly none lesbian manner unaware that there's a pretty good chance that Kathy's spirit has returned for revenge.
Could she be controlling Eva?
Things come to a head after Eva viciously beats Jenny with a stuffed Giraffe before collapsing onto her bed in a sweatily unconscious state whilst pulling what can only be termed her best cum face.
Enter the sexy neurologist cum crime fighter and ex Blow Monkeys frontman Doctor Robert (pubed headed US teevee heart throb and star of Fantastic Journey and that 80's War of The Worlds series Martin) who appears to be the only character in the movie with any idea that something maybe, oh so slightly amiss.
You see he's noticed that there are rather alarming changes in Kathy's brainwaves during (and after) each mysterious death.
That's not all he's noticed tho' seeing as he appears to have a thing for underage totty, Eva being a case in point.
Dr. Robert: diggin' your scene.
Before long Dr. Robert has entered (oooeeerrr) a full blow affair with Eva and Kathy is making the hospital machines bleep whilst her old classmates start dying in even more ludicrous ways – including naked suffocation by snails (featuring some fantastically inappropriate shots of said shelled beasties sliming across an erect plastic nipple) and being hugged to death by a paper mache statue of what looks like Brian Blessed.
Snails in mah...well snails everywhere really.
Whilst all this is happening Dr. Robert starts imagining the glisteningly ample arsed Eva and himself in sweaty sex scenes that culminate in her biting off his nipples and tongue to a sub Goblin rock soundtrack.
Suffice to say that Rob is fairly relieved when Eva's folk decide to kidnap her from the school and lock her up in a mental asylum, for one thing it means he can now starting shagging the class whore Grace (the slightly stocky Naud) without fear of losing his nips, bladder control etc and for another it means he can spend much more valuable screen time wandering aimlessly in and out of Kathy's room whilst tutting at the monitors.
Dr. Robert: funnel or tunnel?
All seems well till late one night Eva escapes from Shady Nook with the idea of being re-united with her true love.
Oh and to commit some more murders.....
Fulci's little seen psycho-babbling B-movie opus Aenigma, whilst not being one of his best works is nowhere near the shocking nadir his career would reach with the likes of Cat in The Brain.
Obviously influenced (at least visually) by Argento's Inferno, Fulci delivers his trademark oppressive atmosphere, over the top gore and cheap and nasty sleaze but unfortunately also features the inane dialogue and muddy plotting that is the signature of much of Fulci's later work.
"Come sleep in mah bed".
But there's still much to enjoy; from the aforementioned slug scene to the scary Tom Cruise poster adorning the wall of Grace's room via the bizarre (and cheap) use of the same beheading scene to show the whole college campus being murdered and possibly cinema's sweatiest and most unnecessary greased arse sex scene.
Totally bonkers and infinitely watchable, Aenigma is the best of the worst of Italian horror, you can almost imagine the opening lyrics being written about Fulci himself: “Put on your make-up, your eyes are blue enough, tonight is special for you... You’re gonna see that dream come true..."
Or maybe not.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
MAROON 5 HISTORY
Maroon 5 is a Grammy Award-winning American pop rock band. Formed in Los Angeles, the group comprises 5 members: Adam Levine (lead vocals, musical rhythm guitar), James Valentine (lead guitar, backing vocals), Jesse Carmichael (keyboards, rhythm guitar, backing vocals), Mickey Madden (bass guitar), and Matt Flynn (drums, percussion).The MAroon 5.Maroon five has got advanced a lot awards for it is debut record album Songs About Jane. Released in June 2002, the record album enjoyed major chart success, going gold, platinum, and triple platinum in many countries around the world.[Maroon 5] In support of Songs About Jane, Maroon 5 toured extensively throughout 2003 – 2005, in which a live album was released, entitled Live - Friday the 13th. Original member Ryan Dusick left the band in September 2006, due to wounds sustained by the invariant touring, and was replaced along mat Flynn.The Maroon 5
After a hiatus from the music scene, Maroon 5 published their second studio record album, It Won't Be soon in May 2007, five years after Songs About Jane. The second set debuted at #1 on the Billboard 200 with first week sales of nearly half a million. Maroon 5, The record album has since gone on to become platinum with 1.8 million albums sold in the United States alone and over 3.5 million world wide. The band performed throughout the summer and fall of 2007, including a North American tour with The Hives. They followed that with a world tour with New Found Glory. Beginning March 28, 2008, they will tour with Counting Crows and Sara Bareilles. The Maroon 5
It Won't Be Soon Before Long (2006-present)
Afterwards reading as most by 2006, inch May 2007, Maroon 5's second album, It Won't Be Soon Before Long, was released worldwide by A&M/Octone Records.[Maroon 5] According to Levine, the follow-up to Songs About Jane is "sexier and stronger",[Maroon 5] gaining inspiration from iconic 80s artists such as Prince, Shabba Ranks, Michael Joe Jackson and Talking Heads.[Maroon 5] Before its release, "Makes Me Wonder" was the #1 selling single and video on iTunes.[Maroon 5] It was also the #1 selling album, with more than 50,000 digital pre-sales.[Maroon 5] After its release, the album broke iTunes sales records its week of release, selling over 101,000 albums. The first single, "Makes Me enquire," was released to radio Mar twenty-seven, 2007. Maroon 5 The making of the music video was previewed on MTV's Total Request Live, and premiered on the show March 29. The song debuted at number 84 on the Billboard Hot 100, the lowest debuting single of the group's five chart debuts. Maroon 5 In the first week of May, the single skyrocketed from a lowly position of 64 to #1, the biggest jump in Billboard history. "Makes Me Wonder" has also achieved #1 on Billboard's Hot Digital Songs, Pop 100, and Hot Dance Club Play charts. Maroon 5.To support the album, the band performed on a "six-date club tour" in which they visited small venues in Boston, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Minneapolis, Miami, and New York City in early June 2007. They followed with a concert that streamed live via MSN Music in mid-June. On July 10, they opened for The Police, in Miami, and followed with an acoustic performance at the Miami club, Studio A, the next day. Their 2007 It Won't live before long presently world duty tour began Michaelmas Day in Detroit and concluded Nov ten People's Liberation Army* Vegas. The Hives, as the tour of duty special guest, performed on all of the dates stamp while Sara Bareilles, Kevin Michael, and Phantom Planet each performed in a portion of the tour. They are currently touring with Dashboard Confessional in their world tour and, beginning March 28, 2008, they will tour with OneRepublic, Brandi Carlile, and Ry Cuming. They have also executed "Makes Me wonderment" on flavor six of American god and "If I Never discover Your Face Again" on season seven of American god. The re-release of the album features a new duet version by "If I ne'er See Your Face Again" with Rihanna; the new version of the song will also appear on the re-release of Rihanna's album Good Girl Gone Bad.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
History Kurt Cobain (Nirvana)
Cobain and Novoselic met in 1985. Both comprised fans of The Melvins, and frequented the band's practice space. Afterward a few delusive starts at constituting their own band, the brace enrolled drummer Aaron Burckhard, creating the first incarnation of what would eventually become Nirvana. Cobain later described the sound of the band when they first started as "a Gang of Four and Scratch Acid ripoff."[4] Within a couple of months, Burckhard comprised aroused from the banding. He was temporarily replaced by Dale Crover of the Melvins, who played on the band's first demos. Dave Foster then began a brief tenure as the band's drummer.
During its initial months, the band carried out a serial by names, including Skid course, Pen Cap Chew, and Ted Ed Fred. The band finally fixated Nirvana in early 1988, which Cobain said was chosen because "I wanted a name that was sort of beautiful or nice and pretty besides a mean, raunchy punk name like the Angry Samoans."[5] Nirvana played their first show under the name that March. A few months later, the band finally fixated a drummer, Chad Channing.
Nirvana's 1st release comprised the single "Love Buzz/big deal" inch 1988 on
The money for the commemorating academic session* as blanching agent, listed as $606.seventeen on the album sleeve, comprised added along Jason Everman. Everman comprised introduced to Cobain by Dylan Carlson, just accepted known Channing since the fifth class. Everman began hanging out with the band, and offered to lend the money to them for the recording.[7] Though Everman didn't actually play on the album, he was credited for playing guitar on Bleach because, according to Novoselic, they "wanted to make him feel more at home in the band."[8] After the album was completed, Everman had a brief and contentious stay with the band as a second guitarist, but was fired following their first
In alated 1989 interview, Cobain noted that the band's music comprised altering. He said, "The betimes songs comprised actually angry ... But as time advances the songs are getting poppier and poppier as I get happier and happier. The songs are now about conflicts in relationships, emotional things with other homos."[9] In April 1990, the band began working with producer Butch Vig at Smart studio apartment* in Madison, Badger State about recordings as the accomplish to Bleach.[Ten] During the sessions, Kurt and Krist became disenchanted with Channing's beating, and Channing expressed defeat at not being actively involved in songwriting.Eleven shortly after the sessions were complete, Channing was gone by the band. After a lot weeks with Dale Crover of The Melvins completing, nirvana hired Mudhoney drummer Dan Peters, with whom they recorded the song "Sliver". A couple of a long time after, bombilate John James Osborne of The Melvins introduced them to Dave Grohl, who was anticipating afresh band following the sudden break-up of DC. hardcore punks Scream.[12] A few days after arriving in Seattle, Novoselic and Cobain auditioned Grohl, with Novoselic later accepting, "We acknowledged inch two arcminutes that he was the right drummer."[13]
Breakthrough success
Music sample:
"Smells Like Teen Spirit"
Play sound
Sample distribution of "aromas alike Teen Spirit," the 1st single from the band's breakthrough release Nevermind (1991). The song comprised an worldwide hit, and it has "quiet verses with rickety, choired guitar, followed by big, loud hardcore-inspired choruses" became a much-emulated template in alternative rock.[14]
Problems listening to the file? See media help.
Disillusioned with Sub Pop and with the ache Studios sessions begetting concern, Nirvana decided to anticipate a deal with a major record label.Fifteen Following repeated recommendations along transonic Youth's Kim Gordon, Nirvana blessed to DGC Records inch 1990.Sixteen The band after commenced recording its first major label album, no matter. They comprised offered a act of producers to choose from, but ultimately held out for Butch Vig.Seventeen besides recording at Vig's Madison studio as they had in 1990, they shifted to Sound City Studios in Van Nuys, Los Angeles, California. For two months, the band ran through a assortment of songs in their catalog. A few of the birdcalls, including "inch bloom of youth" and "Breed", had been in the band's repertoire for years, while others, including "On a Plain" and "keep one's distance", lacked finished lyrics until Battle of Midway by the recording process.[18] After the recording sessions were completed, Vig and the band array to mix the album. All the same, the commemorating sessions had run behind schedule and the resulting mixes were deemed unsatisfactory. Slayer mixer Andy Wallace was brought in to create the final mix. After the album's release members of Nirvana expressed dissatisfaction with the polished sound the mixer had given Nevermind.[19]
Initially, DGC Records was hoping to sell 250,000 copies of Nevermind, which was the same level they had achieved with Sonic Youth's Goo.[20] However, the album's first single "Smells Like Teen Spirit" quickly gained momentum, thanks in part to significant airplay of the song's music video on MTV. As they toured Europe during late 1991, the band found that the shows were dangerously oversold, that television crews were becoming a constant presence onstage, and that "Smells Like Teen disembodied spirit" comprised almost omnipresent on radio and music television.[21] By Christmas 1991, Nevermind was selling 400,000 copies a week in the US.[22] On January 11, 1992, the album reached number 1 on the Billboard album charts, replacing Jackson album Dangerous.[23] The album also topped the charts infinite countries worldwide.[24] The month Nevermind reached number 1, Billboard proclaimed, "Nirvana is that rare band that's everything: decisive acclaim, industry respect, pop radio appeal, and a rock-solid college/alternative base."[25]
In February 1992, abiding by the band's Pacific brim circuit, Cobain married Hole frontwoman Courtney Love in
Cobain and Novoselic at the 1992 MTV Video Music Awards.
Cobain and Novoselic at the 1992 MTV Video Music Awards.
To a lesser degree fortnight later, Nirvana did at the MTV Video Music Awards. During the first rehearsal for the show, Cobain announced that they were attending play afresh song during the broadcast, and the band rehearsed "Rape Me". MTV's executives were appalled by the song, and, according to show producer Amy Finnerty, the executives believed that the song was about them. They insisted that the band coulded out threatening to throw Nirvana cancelled the show and stop airing their videos entirely. After a series of intense discussions, MTV and Nirvana agreed that the band would play "Lithium", their latest single.[29] When the band began their performance, Cobain strummed and sang the first few bars of "Rape Me", one last jab at MTV's executives, before breaking into "Lithium". Near the end of the song, frustrated that his amp had stopped functioning, Novoselic decided to toss his bass into the air for dramatic effect. He misjudged the landing, and the bass fetched up bouncing off his brow, causing him to stumble off the stage in a daze. As Cobain trashed their equipment, Grohl ran to the mic and began yelling "Hi, Axl!" repeatedly, referring to Guns N' Roses singer Axl Rose, with whom the band and Courtney had had a bizarre encounter before the show.[30]
Nirvana released Incesticide, a collection of rarities and B-sides, in December 1992. Many of Nirvana's radio sessions and unreleased early recordings were starting to circulate via trading circles and illegal bootlegs, so the album served to beat the moonshiners. The album arrested songs from previously released singles and EPs, including "Sliver" and "Dive", also as material from the band's sessions for the BBC, including "Been a Son", "Aneurysm", and covers of songs by The Vaselines and Devo.
which covered his musical past as well as his political endeavors. During the 2004 Presidential campaign, Grohl and Novoselic appeared on stage together in support of John Kerry.
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