Joup Movie Review: ‘Boyhood’ Richard Linklater, 2014

boyhood

I feel a Hipsterish cringe as Coldplay’s ‘Yellow’ sounds out over the opening shot of a cloud strewn blue sky, before I remember that I secretly think this is a beautiful song. For a long time, I didn’t even hate Coldplay, I was above all that, they were just an Indie ‘In’ for those younger than me. Of course in recent years I’ve found their self important, remedial plinkety-plonking bombast grossly offensive, but that’s just an irrelevant by-product of experience and the slow creeping cynicism that heralds the beginning of the inevitable rendezvous with decrepitude. As Coldplay serenade the theater, you’ll have to forego a certain amount of cynicism. We’re looking down on 5 year old Mason, unfettered by such trivialities, lying on his back on serene grass musing on the incongruous blue above as it becomes clear that this musical cue is a signifier for this place in time, 2002.

The Joup Friday Album – CHROME ‘Half Machine Lip Moves’

110276-aThe drum kit is sentient and coated in tin foil, its human overseers gaunt and warped from light years of ST37 abuse. These two jumpsuited mutants go by the earth-names Damon Edge and Helios Creed and their clingfilm (Saran wrap) skin is pallid from sunlight estrangement. While Punk was pissing and whinging about the inequity of modern life, Chrome were taking the same musical aesthetics and shaping it into a future we were expecting after the promise of late 60s space exploration and the ensuing Universe of cautionary and allegorical Sci Fi, courtesy of some of the period’s drugs of choice.

Failure Live at House of Blues, or: How I Went to Houston for 24 Hours, Bought some Records, Hung out with some Old Friends, Drank Way Too Much Beer, and Saw one of My Favorite Bands of All Time

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAWednesday Morning

Traditionally (at least for the last few months), Wednesday has been my day off from a week’s worth of work drudgery, my day to spend with my son, going to the park, playing with the dog, watching horror movies, reading comic books, and napping.  It’s a wonderful day.  Last Wednesday, I didn’t get to do any of those things…well, the boy did take a 30-minute power nap on me before we left the house…but the day was wonderful nonetheless.  Just a different kind of wonderful.  The find-a-record-you’ve-been-looking-for, friend-seeing, beer-swilling, see-a-band-you-thought-you’d-never-ever-see road trip kind of wonderful.

Joup Friday Album: JD McPherson – Signs and Signifiers

JD McPherson - Signs and Signifiers

JD McPherson – Signs and Signifiers

The Sunday Song Poem #10 ‘Peace and Love (Blind Man’s Penis)’ Ramsey Kearney

Ramsey Kearney

Ramsey Kearney

Not having posted last week I feel an obligation to do so today, and as such feel as though I’m phoning-this-in somewhat, so it’s only fitting as we enter double figures for The Sunday Song Poem that we acknowledge, celebrate, or otherwise just get-out-of-the-way what is perhaps be considered both the Daddy and red headed stepchild of the whole phenomenon.  I’ve had a strained relationship with Ramsey Kearney‘s ‘Peace and Love’ (aka ‘Blind Man’s Penis’), stemming mostly from the fact that I long believed this to be as precious an exhibit of insanity as was evident in the last instalment, only to be enlightened by ‘Off The Charts: The Song Poem Story’ as to the fact that this particular song’s lyrics were intentionally so gorked.

BOB LOG III, Ruby Lounge Manchester England, April 24th 2014

BOBLOGBANNER
“N. Senada’s (Bavarian Composer -1907-1993) “Theory of Obscurity” states that an artist can only produce pure art when the expectations and influences of the outside world are not taken into consideration.”

I shouldn’t have to be writing this because you should have been there yourself. Luckily for you, Bob is a natural phenomenon that, like some integral celestial body circles the Planet Earth every year, so you can ensure you don’t miss him next time. Though maybe it’s us that orbits him. Anyway until next year…

The Sunday Song Poem #9 ‘Feeling Beside Myself’ Buddy Raye

feelingbesidemyself

Despite the papal canonisation today (broadcast in 3D to select cinemas and News channels, anyone catch that, did they have that swinging, incense lantern flying out atcha?), I feel like I should eschew the subject since I kind of already did the Holy Song Poem last Sunday. Not only that, but try as I might I couldn’t find a Song Poem for a Pope, which I find hard to believe having encountered a fair few about Richard Nixon, Elvis, Christopher Columbus, and Sexploitation actors turned male midwives. So instead I decided to just go straight for the crazy, literally in today’s case.

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