You know you're getting up there when your favorite, most influential post-High School albums start turning 30. How is Teenager of the Year three decades young? I mean, seriously?
Last weekend, K and I drove up to Chicago for a few days. Saturday night I met up with a bunch of old friends and saw the first night of Black's Teenager of the Year 30th Anniversary show at the Metro. Mr. Brown was in attendance, and it felt like such a full circle moment - Brown was the friend who got me into so much of the most influential music of my twenties. In 1995, I'd gotten out of a three-year relationship begun in High School.
Watch:
Last Thursday, K and I had the distinct pleasure of catching Steven Soderbergh's new film Presence.
Not posting a trailer, partially because I haven't seen one and don't have the time to vet one of spoilers, partially because I LOVE the posters they've released for this film. Soderbergh is always a class act, and his film about a haunted house is exactly what you'd expect by being nothing you would expect.
This film blew me away, and I implore any even remotely interested parties to seek this one out while it's still on the big screen. Mind you, this isn't a movie you have to see on the big screen, like The Substance or Nosferatu. However, the camera flows across that massive screen in a way that just intoxicates. In a way, this isn't a "Horror" film in that Horror films generally unfold via events, and there are not a lot of events here. This is a character study of a family first and foremost. That said, when things get fucked up, they get really fucked up. Presence has one of the most disturbing concepts in it I've seen in some time.
NCBD Addendum:
I wasn't going to pick this new SIKTC: Book of Cutter one-shot up, but due to this rolling disaster that is Diamond Distribution, my take-aways from Rick's felt pretty light on Wednesday, and I admit, I was very curious to learn more about the SIKTC mythology, which this book pays off with in droves.
Loved it. More prose than graphic fiction, Book of Cutter really delves into the order of St. George's history while also advancing Maxine Slaughter as a soon-to-be major player in the ongoing SIKTC book. Reading this made me excited about the overall world-building in a way I haven't been since shortly after realizing I love the flagship book but not necessarily the ancillary titles. Might be time to revisit House of Slaughter...
New music from The Cure! From the album Songs Of A Lost World, out November 1st. Pre-order HERE. I definitely wasn't expecting to see this today. I'd heard some titterings that amounted to, "The Cure are up to something," but that's about the extent of any foreknowledge I had of a new album. Full Disclosure: I can't remember the last new Cure record I listened to, kind of left them at Blood Flowers - which I don't know hardly at all - but I'm curious.
Watch:
Ready to have your heart ripped open again? The Last of Us season two is coming. Here's the teaser, which I'm not even going to bother to watch.
As I'm sure I mentioned here previously, I have never played the Last of Us game, so the storyline is completely new to me. I dig it; however, I will say it's A LOT emotionally, and season one took me a bit to get through. It's more difficult to watch a post-apocalyptic story with such emotional weight when you basically live in a post-apocalyptic world.
NCBD Addendum:
A quick word on the new DSTLRY book, The Missionary, that I mentioned yesterday. Stay away. Awful. Reminds me of when Todd McFarlane and a bunch of the other "hot" artists at the moment split off and formed Image. Yes, Image Comics ended up being a very good thing, but most of those first gen guys should have stuck to art, as they really only approached writing as a means to string a bunch of awesome pictures together. Which, admittedly, was the comic zeitgeist at the time; however, that was also mainly because of them.
Anyway, I couldn't even make it through the first issue of The Missionary. I might try again - Jason Howard's art is fantastic - but man, it's just not good. There's a scene early on with the demon possessing the main character, where they're having this interior monologue back-and-forth that just feels so cheesy; I experienced a similar cringe to the one Beetlejuice Beetlejuice inspired in me several nights ago. Maybe it's because I'm a little over half through my third reading of China Miéville's Perdido Street Station, wherein the prose is intelligent and elegant, to say nothing of the plotting and storytelling. Miéville's work unfolds so intricately that I don't have time for a book that seems to be shooting for a goofy take on Angels and Demons, wearing a sort of artistic clumsiness on its sleeve as part of its style.
No thanks.
Playlist:
Type O Negative - Bloody Kisses (Suspended in Dusk Edition)
Type O Negative - Origin of the Feces
The Thirsty Crows - Hangman's Noose
The Coasters, The Brains & Rezurex - Yakety Yak (single)
When Push the Sky Away came out in 2013, the departure in sound from previous Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds albums grabbed me right away. I loved 2008's Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!! and Cave's concurrent side project Grinderman for their ferocious rebuttal to the aging process, but Sky's total immersion in storytelling and the grandeur employed in the songcraft seemed the exact perfect pinion from that antagonistic sound. There seemed an evolution in writing, production, everything - Push the Sky Away just felt so HUGE.
Then tragedy struck, and 2016's Skeleton Tree felt like an unbelievably poignant - naked even - response. When Ghosteen hit in 2019, I heard too much of those two previous records in it to feel anything other than... tired by its 11 tracks. I give the album a listen every now and again, but really, I'd just rather listen to Sky or SkeletonTree (both of which have since suffered dilution at having yet another record released in their image).
Maybe I'm spoiled by how often Cave has reinvented himself over the years. I got into him shortly before 2004's Abbatoir Blues/The Lyre of Oepipus came out, after a friend of a friend burned me CDs of 2001's And No More Shall We Part and 1994's Let Love In. I was living with some friends in Chicago's Beverly neighborhood at the time, and I remember smoking a bowl and putting And No More... on. This sudden, immense and immaculate eclipse overtook the world at the start of that record, and it swirled and evolved and stung and didn't relinquish control of my senses until the final track ran out. There was something so dark, so sad, so funny, so intricate...
I'd heard of the Bad Seeds before then, of course, but just hadn't been exposed to them. I remember, shortly before those burned discs came my way, I was with Mr. Brown and some friends at The Valley Inn in Palos Hills. This was a small neighborhood restaurant in Chicago's south suburbs that featured a bar that stayed open until 4:00 AM on the weekends and yet, impossibly in Palos Hills, didn't get as crowded with the kind of scum that filtered into the 4 AM bars just a few blocks away on Roberts Road. We ran into a friend, John Pratt, and were sitting at the bar drinking beers. John was a punk rawk dude from the neighborhood, and as he regaled us with tales of a recent show he'd been to, a guy from across the bar recognized him and came over to extend salutations. I didn't catch this new addition to our little group's name, but he was wearing a simple black t-shirt that had "Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds" printed across the front of it. I remember thinking that shirt was the most punk rock thing I'd ever seen. Not a month later I had those discs, and a love affair began*.
That's my long-winded wind up to say, when this new track and the announcement of the subsequent record, out August 30. Pre-order HERE, fills me with both hope and dread. The single begins subtle enough that it carried my fears of another Ghosteen with it until the back half of the song begins to gain complexity and, what I can only call a sort of smoldering hope. THIS instills me with hope. I really want to care about another Bad Seeds record.
* Somehow, I had already made the sonic acquaintance of Cave's previous band, The Birthday Party, but hadn't yet put together that this was the same man. Delayed discoveries were still possible in the era before we all walked around with the internet in our hand 24/7. Not an indictment, just a fact. Plus, if you don't explicitly read that this is the same man, it just might take a minute to reconcile that Cave was the frontman in both these groups. I mean, come on. Listen to "Big Jesus Trashcan" and then listen to "Sweetheart Come" (often misheard as Sweet, Hot Cum) and tell me there's no room for disbelief.
NCBD Addendum:
Another NCBD addendum is in order, as I ended up grabbing a few books I had no idea where going to be put in front of me.
A new three-issue limited series set in 1939? Yeah, sounds like a great idea for a Batman setting, right? Ryan at Rick's Comic City put this in my hand, and I found myself strangley compelled to take it home. The art's gorgeous, and since I'm not a regular Batman reader, every once in a while I can really go for a good mini-series with the character.
I had completely forgotten about the first issue of Beyond Real, which was a freebie from Vault Comics back in early December. I really dug the story—though I'll definitely have to unearth and re-read it now. I was stoked to see issue two on the shelf and only too happy to give Zack Kaplan and Co. my money after the generous first-issue comp and thought-provoking story.
This one was a little tough to actually plunk down the $$ for. Not because I don't want delivery on the cover's tagline: "What if Carter Burke Had Lived," but because after reading two story arcs of Marvel's Aliens books, I really don't ever want to read anymore. But this... this was pretty damn good! It's a three-issue series, so no big investment and I liked what they did with Burke's character enough to want to see where this story goes.
Also, cowritten by Paul Reiser? There was a time when Reiser was on my "most hated actors" list right alongside jim carrey and b. stiller. THAT's how powerful his performance as the sniveling Carter Burke was for me (not to mention his ubiquitousness of his appearances in pop culture in the 90s thanks to mad about ewe). Stranger Things changed that.
Thanks to my A Most Horrible Library cohost, Chris Saunders, for putting this one on my radar. Since Marvel took over, I've long learned to just glide my eye past any comic that says Alien.
Playlist:
Brigitte Calls Me Baby - This House is Made of Corners EP
Blut Aus Nord - Memoria Vetusta II: Dialogue with the Stars
The Fixx - Reach the Beach
Fleet Foxes - Shore
Ozzy Osbourne - Diary of a Madman
Card:
From Jonathan Grimm's Hand of Doom Tarot, which you can buy HERE.
• Page (Princess) of Swords - Terror or impetuousness
• Six of Cups - Something new through hard work and a little pain
• V: The Hierophant - Something more, just outside the scope of your tiny little world
Gonna need to shed some (metaphorical) blood in order to get what I'm missing. Another nod to the book, which I took time out of working on to finish this post.
