First and foremost, what are you doing tonight?  Take a second and really think about that.  There is a correct answer.  Clicking on this might help.  Or this.  Or this.  Know the answer yet?  You are going to see Cotton Jones at Music Saves for free before seeing them for a modest fee at the Beachland Ballroom.  You knew that.  You’ve probably already sorted out what you’re going to do for dinner and who’s letting out your dog.  Good for you, planning ahead.  You’re also going to give yourself enough time to be in the record store before 8:00.  We’re excited to meet you.  If you needed any more incentive (which you don’t, because you’re already going), the first Citizen Dick reader to correctly tell me who sings the vocals on “Have a Cigar” will receive a special mention in a future post. (The first person to incredulously tell me it’s David Gilmour gets kicked in the shins, so even if you don’t have the correct answer, you’ll get to see some random violence.)

To sum up:

YOU + COTTON JONES + MUSIC SAVES = BEST NIGHT OF YOUR LIFE.

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In other news, we failed to tell you about an entertaining record that dropped on February 24, Jet Black from Gentleman Reg.  We’re blaming the month of February for this oversight; it’s short and packed with action, forcing us to forget stuff.  Ontario native Reg Vermue’s second release on Arts and Crafts is full of well-written, quietly devastating songs.  Reg’s work recalls that of any number of singer-songwriters, but maintains vitality through precise descriptions of angsty situations and occasional instrumentation left turns.  It’s a lonely record at times, but it’s not monochromatic.  One of the album’s highlights, “We’re in a Thunderstorm,” finds the narrator imploring  (I think) his lover to not “be a disgrace tonight, because I don’t have time to celebrate your failures” in front of, essentially, a disco beat.  The track sounds like a desperate and unfulfilling night at the club, but doesn’t lose the tenor of the album (much of the rest of which hews closely to the indie-folk/rock tradition of sensitive acoustic ballads).  The rest of the album is well-executed, but it’s on “We’re in a Thunderstorm” that something clearly unique is being presented; that thumbprint is visible on other tracks, but it’s most obvious here.

Another personal favorite, “Rewind,” toes the more traditional line much more closely and delivers the album’s best chorus, with a browbeatlingly repetitive lyric: “There’s no point in going back when a masterpiece is crumbling.”  That song’s quiet majesty is offset nicely with the strangely cacophonous “How We Exit,” which puts Reg’s mildly delicate voice in front of a darkly pulsating soundscape.  There are some lighter, bouncier moments on the record, including the lead single “You Can’t Get it Back,” which features a slinky guitar line and some power chords, but it’s the radically divergent moments and the quieter tracks that stand out.  Jet Black is worth your attention; enjoy “We’re in a Thunderstorm,” below.

“We’re in a Thunderstorm” – Gentleman Reg

Pick up Gentleman Reg at Insound.

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We told you at the front end that we would occasionally tell you about books and things other than music; in large part, we’ve failed to do that.  Today, we work towards redressing that oversight.  Dear Everybody, Michael Kimball’s stunning third novel, tells the story of Jonathon Bender, a depressed weatherman who had committed suicide before the book begins.  The book is presented as a collection of Jonathon’s letters, his mother’s journal, newspaper clippings, interviews and other detritus that has been amassed  by the Jonathon’s estranged brother after his suicide .  Within the novel, the collection serves as the brother’s attempt to make sense of Jonathon’s life, but, for the reader, it’s a towering and tragic depiction of a depressed psyche.  The bulk of the collection is comprised of Jonathon’s letters to, as the title suggests, everyone: his family, his girlfriends, his apartment, the Easter bunny and so on.  Instead of a traditional narrative, the letters and other materials show the reader how Jonathon came to end his life, moving from his contentious childhood through his adult battles with mental illness.  It’s a story that’s been written before, but the unique presentation serves to give the ideas freshness and empathic validity.  By ceding the narrative completely to the letters and journals, Kimball forces the writing to do all of the work (there is no telling here, only showing).  It’s reminiscent of Updike’s S., but with a wildly different focus.  There are moments that are dryly humorous, and Jonathon’s voice is unique and likable, but the  conclusion (which is foregone from the first page) left me a wreck; even though the book’s premise is that Jonathon kills himself, it was still a blow when he did.  Kimball has crafted an unconventional masterpiece, and I’d encourage you to read it.  It’s a quick read, probably due to it’s construction, but an emotionally weighty one.

Circuitously related to books, Mrs. Citizen and I took in The Watchmen movie last night.  I was a bit reluctant to go for a variety of reasons (I love the book, Alan Moore wasn’t going, comic book movies always screw things up…), but my wife’s enthusiasm won me over.  I ignored the press on the movie, becuase I didn’t really care, so I was completely unprepared for what they did (editor’s note: total spoiler coming up).  They changed the goddamn ending.  Completely.  It was awful.  I was actually buying in to the movie until the last 30 minutes or so.  They did a passable job with Part IV (for my money the greatest single comic book ever written and in the discussion for on of the greatest chapters in any work of fiction) and they didn’t add too many stupid bits or take out anything critical.  In the back of my mind, I was curious about how they were going to proceed without including any of the island plotline, but I never thought they’d make a wholesale change at the conclusion.  It pissed me off.  I took a little heat from the Mrs., who claims my slavish dedication to the original smacks of an ostrich-like inability to face the present.  Screw that.  Stupid movie studio took a shit on a landmark piece of fiction.  I want my seven bucks back.

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Lastly, I’d like to add a song to The Vault, our periodically updated section featuring music that we love and find important.  This is my first addition and, for the most, it speaks for itself.  You could accuse me of being clever by making my first song in The Vault Fugazi’s “Song #1,” but (paraphrasing here) I doubt I’ll really care.  It means nothing.  Noooothiiiiing.  Enjoy this stellar live clip; remember how this band made you feel about the world.  See you at Music Saves.

Click here to view the embedded video.

]]> http://citizendick.org/2009/03/11/fighting-for-a-haircut-i-say-grow-your-hair/feed/ 0 http://citizendick.org/2009/01/19/1000-visitors-served/ http://citizendick.org/2009/01/19/1000-visitors-served/#comments Mon, 19 Jan 2009 05:14:09 +0000 kevin http://citizendick.org/?p=482 It’s midnight, and unless something strange happened today, we’ve reached our 1000th visitor.   I wonder who actually got the 1000th hit.  Maybe it’s the chicken rancher in Colombia that checks us out daily, or all of the pals we’ve made in Uganda flickin on the wi-fi for a quick stop.  Either way, we’re excited about our first twenty days of existence and we certainly hope all of our readers keep stopping by.  We’ve got our ears lobe-deep in a ton of music.  We’ll keep shipping the goods your way.

Since we’ve got some good musically oriented fodder on tap for tomorrow, I’ll use my midnight air-time to take a huge left turn and ramble on about Infinite Jest, a novel I’m currently reading by David Foster Wallace.  If you’re into fine literature, I’m going to tell you to pick this up.  Unfortunately, DFW committed suicide by rope late in 2008, but this masterpiece is a fitting legacy.  1100 pages of witty, sardonic, and fragmented musing.  He uses what essentially amounts to a frame story of a young prep tennis phenom and his exploits.  Within this frame, however, is a cast of characters, idiosyncratic addiction, routine, and obsessive behavior.  At the root of this book is DFW’s brilliance..he is, indeed, the smartest guy in the room (as my colleague Brian notes), but the harrowing and dark side of human nature leaps out of each page.

The novel begins with this tennis kid who has just been called into a university acceptance board to be interviewed.  It seems his test scores don’t quite match up with the genius essays he wrote for the application.  There are about 4 people in the room, an athletic director, admittance director, and a dean, I believe.  They pound the kid about academics, their disbelief that he actually wrote the essays himself, etc.  The tennis kid, however, struggles immensely, looking for the right words to respond.  He knows they’re going to think he’s a fool.  Inside, he’s thinking perfectly rationally….but when he finally speaks on his own to the board, his voice is only hideous grunting and the sound of a donkey.

Woah!

This is a novel not intended for the weak.   It’s difficult, cerebral, and vulgar.  It’s a murky dive into the inner workings of human addiction and temptation, our self-destructive dependence on chemicals and consumerism.  Importantly, it saddens me as a fan that DFW’s addictions and sorrows are laid bare with this novel.  Obviously, he wasn’t able to conquer his own demons.   I’m certain, however, that  there’s a fine connection between good books and good music.  If it rocks, it rocks, right?  Go pick this one up.