A collection of Deftones videos, in case you are flummoxed by choice.
I have long had a plan and the plan is as follows—to create a list of albums that I can't get through. The idea is not assert that these albums are bad; I simply find it impossible to get to the end of these albums. This list was going to be called The Snoozedex™, which seemed like a big buxx innovation in terms of both technology and language (like "scrobbling").
But I changed my mind. The Snoozedex™ turned out to be both mean-spirited and inaccurate, because I rarely fall asleep while listening to an album. What I do is hit the stop button (space bar), or walk away. So coming up next: The Helpdex™, which will list album titles and append to each title a positive, pro-active suggestion for activities that might help you get through the album in question.
(P.S.: Don’t say Helpdex out loud, because people will think that you are saying “Help Desk.” This may cause someone to ask you how to load widgets, run Monsterlung in OS X or import bookmarks from a stopwatch to a telephonic jellybean.)
“Even when middle-class or wealthy families were displaced in, say, New Orleans, they mostly figured out how to get what they needed. For a start, they demanded it. Loudly. Insistently. But the people stuck in the shelters, black and white, were typically not only poorer but also less demanding, less assertive, less skilled in negotiating their way through the system. Poor families in the shelters were neglected precisely because they were suffering so patiently. After that experience, I caught myself thinking that the problem is not that the poor riot, but that they don’t riot enough.”
Nicholas D. Kristof, “Wretched of the Earth,” The New York Review of Books, Volume 54, Number 9, May 31, 2007.
“I like mice cheese, the kind in cartoons.”
Very happy about this.
Heads-up courtesy of Jody Rosen.
Postscript: I think I’ve already sung the praises of UB40 and this song, but that won't stop me from doing it again: This compilation, “The Singles Album,” was fairly easy to find when it came out. (Got my copy at Bondy’s) Now it’s rare-ish, which is no big deal, as most of the compiled songs can be found elsewhere. Except for one—the twelve-inch version of “The Earth Dies Screaming,” which Al Gore needs to start blasting from his hemp-fueled Maybach NOW. Ali Campbell’s voice makes me feel like I am asleep and awake at the same time (reggae haters will say “Exactly!” but they can eat old fish sandwiches) and the tune is part of a small but submarine-deep tradition of hallucinatory dub ballads (e.g. The Congos’ “Fisherman.”)
Feist last night was exactly like this show, the only difference being red tights, an orthopedic sparkle cuff and a massive audience tribute to Byrd Gang in honor of Bundles.
UPDATE: Michael Kimmelman on The Splashing.