REVIEW: FLUKE - Progressive History X

I came across this during my weekly comic book run (BTW, The Authority #25 is R0X0R) and immediately went for it. Risotto was one of my favorite albums of 1997, but I never got a chance to explore the rest of their catalogue because of staggering import prices. (By the time 1997 rolled around, I was no longer cool with paying $27 for a CD I didn't already know.)

Finding this disc is something of a gold mine for me. This disc stretches back to the group's beginnings in 1991, with mixes of all of their singles. The opening track, "Thumper" is the lone new track and is a self-conscious throwback to their earlier style; I had no idea the song was written in 2001 until I read the liner notes. One thing this collection highlights is Fluke's mastery of the mid-tempo dancefloor-filler. Each of these tracks proudly straddle the mid-tempo point of their time, flaunting their trancey thumps and smooth hooks. The tempos subtly accelerate as the collection moves on, as well, leading to the blissed-out euphoric jam "Squirt".

The main criticism I can make of this album is that it's a little too homogenous. On the first few listens, many of the unfmiliar songs blend into each other in a pleasing-yet-anonymous mash of sound. I know that the group is capable of stretching themselves; "Squirt" is perhaps the most distinctive single they released and is just one of several songs from the excellent Risotto that I wish had been included here. (A remix of "Setback" in particular would have been nice.) I'm glad I bought this, but based on their earlier material, I'm glad I refrained from paying import prices for those older albums. I still want them, but not as badly as I did before.

DAN'S RATING: GRR-OKAY(I really need to find a mildly positive word that begins with "gr". Suggestions?)

Angelina Jolie to join Belle & Sebastian? There is absolutely nothing I can say about this article that could be funnier than just reading it. The real world has once again proven that it is a bizarre place to be.

Carey suffers "breakdown": I now feel slightly bad about making all those cracks about Mariah Carey being in the process losing her mind. I feel worse knowing that I have no degree in psychology and I don't even know her, yet I could see that there was something wrong with her and that she needed help.

I'm really nervous now; if Mariah had a breakdown, what's going to happen to Christina Aguilera? I mean, Christina has been slavishly mimicking Mariah's career at a frighteningly accelerated pace. (If you don't believe me, compare their singing voices, particularly their phrasing and the way they riff songs. Now, look at how quickly Christina went from "girl next door" to "trashy hip-hop sexpot and dubious fashion sense" compared to Mariah.) Christina's next career move in her attempt to outdo Mariah might be to try to kill herself, which would NOT BE COOL.

Allegedly, everyone on the globe is seperated by only six people. I therefore urge everyone who reads this site to tell everyone they know that Christina needs help before she experiences a thermonuclear meltdown. Hopefully word will get back to her people and they can do something for her before she winds up as Mariah's roommate.

Chubby Checker, Nobel Laureate? Fred Solinger's blog may be gone, but his influence still spreads across the Web as a force of good. Were it not for him, I wouldn't know the following:

Dancing Apart to the Beat is the dance that we do when we dance apart to the beat of anybody's music and before "Chubby Checker" it could not be found!

Thanks, Fred!

Musical HELL: Have you ever wanted to run into a studio and slap everyone involved for even contemplating creating a godawful, ill-conceived collaboration and inflicting it upon the world? If you know which recording studio David Bowie and Puff Daddy are using to craft the aural equivalent to Satan's misbegotten son, I beg you to succumb to this impulse. Eventually you will be branded a hero.

Preach on, my brother! Fellow NYLPM contributor David Raposa has just made an excellent post that highlights why MuchMusic is so awesome. I will not sleep until the world realizes the might of this network. MTV can bite me; Canada's where it's at!

Many apologies: I am a lazy, lazy man. It's kind of funny how quickly the blogging rush wears off; four months ago, I was convinced that every little thought that crossed my mind was devastatingly funny and deserved to be shared with my legion of readers (aka Mom and Dad). Now, I actually do have a significant number of people coming to this site and I can't even write up a promised report about a couple of concerts I actually performed in. Part of it is Real Life suddenly deciding to flip into turbo mode; my wife and I have just moved into a new condo and things at work are significantly heavier now that August and its associated deadlines are almost here. Also, I don't have as much money to buy CDs as I used to AND my bandwith for downloading stuff has become laughable. I'm out of the loop on a lot of things.

Fret not; this is not a long-winded goodbye message. This is merely an explanation for the lack of updates. I will not promise daily updates, as things are too hectic now for me to seriously make that kind of comitment, but i will write up that "Carmina Burana" concert before the end of this week if it kills me.

(BTW, if anyone has a good idea for a fantastic-yet-inexpensive wedding gift, please mail me. I 've got two weddings this month and haven't even begun shopping yet. Eek.)

Metallica star enters rehab: When Metallica's press people start riding the coattails of the Backstreet Boys' press people, you know there's a problem. I guess alienating 85% of their fanbase wasn't enough; Metallica wasn't going to rest easy until they hammered that last nail into their careers' coffin.

Stars hit back at Brass Eye hoax: Alternate headline: Phil Collins takes self far too seriously AGAIN. Kiddie porn isn't funny, but neither are witchhunts. Making people think before slinging around damaging accusations and hamstringing legitimate uses of the Internet can only be a good thing. At any rate, Phil should slap himself for thinking that anything that marketed itself with a T-shirt that says, "Nonce Sense" was a serious endeavor.

Singles, singles, singles: I scanned the Billboard chart today for the first time in about a month. While I'm happy for the success Blu Cantrell has had, I must say that I'm heartily sick of a particular radio station in Boston playing her song into oblivion. Ditto with Eve's "Let Me Blow Ya Mind". Meanwhile, when will the evil juggernaut that is "Lady Marmalade" go away? Isn't everyone sick of this version of this song now? The only enjoyment I can get from it is remembering how horrible Christina Aguilera looks in the video.

Hot singles to watch:

13: Where The Party At - Jagged Edge featuring Nelly
17: Someone To Call My Lover - Janet
23: Purple Hills - D12 (Why did WJMN play the "Purple Pills" version the other day? Wasn't that banned from the airwaves?)
30: Fallin' - Alicia Keys

buddyHead - g o s s i p (shhh): Featuring for a limited time only Fred Durst's phone number. I haven't called it to verify its authenticity; I leave that as an exercise for the reader. (If it is his real phone number, feel free to tell me. I will giggle.)

'I'll Have Seven Dwarves,' Says Iggy Pop: Don't let anyone tell you that the stories about ludicrous rock star demands aren't true. Clearly, the more ludicrous they are, the more likely it is that they're real demands. (Link comes from Ally via ILE.)

For those curious, I will post my impressions of the Tanglewood gigs I did on Friday and Saturday before the end of the week.

Gravediggaz' Poetic dies after long batle with cancer: RIP. I recommend everyone go out and get the two Gravediggaz albums because they're slammin' and listening to them this week would be a fitting tribute.

Britney Spears TV Special "Shocking And Edgier": There's only one direction this can go, folks:

FULL! FRONTAL! NUDITY!

I mean, honestly. The girl wears macrame coasters tied together with dental floss and full-on booty pants on a regular basis. How much more adult and grown up can she get? (Of course, what will really happen is that she's going to come out in the world's fiercest Donna Karan suit and be demure and smouldering rather than all out on display like the tired spread at Old Country Buffet...)

ARGH. Why is it that whenever I promise to do something, Blogger decides to die on me? Am I cursed or something? Okay, let me stop whining and get to the meat:

An interesting case of spin: Apparently, the Backstreet Boys are canceling a month's worth of concerts to allow Nick's hand to heal and allow A.J. to pull himself together. Contrast the MTV.com story (Pathos! Angst! A.J.'s an alcoholic! Will he survive? Nick blubbers while Howie plots Machiavellian takeover!) with the NME.com story (A.J.'s depressed. Tour resumes in September.). Now check out the Rolling Stone story (A.J.'s in rehab: ROCK AND ROLL!). Three different spins on the same event; something to keep in mind when perusing your news sources, folks; everyone's got an angle. (I must say that I'm amused at how the Rolling Stone story intimates that the band's candor is due less to "respect for the fans" and more because the non-depressed members don't want the fans to blame them for canceling eight weeks worth of concerts.)

With A.J. out of commission, now would be the PERFECT time for the Backstreets to give me a call. (Yes, I would sell out in a heartbeat and join the Backstreet Boys. I'd be singing professionally with a highly visible and popular group and get paid MAD LOOT. I'd have to be an idiot not to want that.)

Ruminations on a post-Wimbledon world: First, let me get this out of the way; would you like some pork faggots?

I've been very happy for the past couple of days. Venus WIlliams and Mad Goran Ivanisevic won WImbledon. Tomorrow, I go out to western Massachucetts for my first concert series out at Tanglewood (to my total surprise, I've managed to memorize 80% of Carmina Burana in a week, so I'm no longer in terror of this concert). My wife Joei has left her job and is studying music theory, which is making her almost as happy as she was on our wedding day. I picked up the Squarepusher album and it's BUMPIN'. All of these things have been distracting me from writing to the blog and for those of you still following, I apologize. The thing is, what with this trip out to Tanglewood, there's going to be another several day hiatus, as I don't see myself being able to find a terminal where I can log in and update remotely. *sigh* To make up for this, I'll drop a couple of pieces up here today.

Bush does not rock: I stumbled across this awe-inspiring link while perusing Fighting Against Making the Pie Higher! I think it's a convincing argument for electing an eloquent man as President (or, at bare minimum, lucid). Where's John McCain when you need him?

Venus rocks: I've been glued to Wimbledon updates for the past week and a half. I'm extremely excited about the women's final; Justine Henin vs. Venus Williams is gonna be FUN to watch. On the men's side, I have no idea who's gonna end up in the final. The match I'd like to see would be Goran Ivanisevic vs. Andre Agassi, but really any of the four could win and I'd be happy. (I'd be happiest if Ivanisevic won, though, because he's crazy.)

By the way, I bought Rooty the other day. It's even better than Tim said it was. That second track ("Breakaway") is GODLIKE.

Aphex Twin announces details of first album in five years: He's given it the deeply silly title Drukqs, possibly because he has spy cameras set up at record stores around the globe and wants to compile amusing footage of confused fans attempting pronounce the title of his new album. The double CD format is really a mixed blessing; you do get a lot more music, but you pay accordingly for it. Also, ninety-five percent of the time you wind up with a mediocre double album that judicious editing could have made into a fantastic single album (see Kid A and Amnesiac as recent examples of why artists should consider spreading out the wealth rather than lumping it all into one big package).

Still, it is Aphex Twin. The man has the disconcerting habit of making songs that sound like a flushing toilet into monstrously catchy jams. Yet another release to put on the calendar...

The grind continues... You'd think that memorizing an hour's worth of music wouldn't be that hard, particularly if it was music you'd sung before. Oh no. Memorizing "Carmina Burana" may put me into the insane asylum.

How many words are actually in this thing? As an example, here are the lyrics to the drinking song that the men sing in the middle "In Taberna Quando Sumus", complete with English translation (taken from this helpful site):

In taberna quando sumus	When we are in the tavern,
non curamus quid sit humus,	we do not think how we will go to dust,
sed ad ludum properamus,	but we hurry to gamble,
cui semper insudamus.	which always makes us sweat.
Quid agatur in taberna	What happens in the tavern,
ubi nummus est pincerna,	where money is host,
hoc est opus ut queratur,	you may well ask,
si quid loquar, audiatur.	and hear what I say.
Quidam ludunt, quidam bibunt,	Some gamble, some drink,
quidam indiscrete vivunt.	some behave loosely.
Sed in ludo qui morantur,	But of those who gamble,
ex his quidam denudantur	some are stripped bare,
quidam ibi vestiuntur,	some win their clothes here,
quidam saccis induuntur.	some are dressed in sacks.
Ibi nullus timet mortem	Here no-one fears death,
sed pro Baccho mittunt sortem:	but they throw the dice in the name of Bacchus.
Primo pro nummata vini,	First of all it is to the wine-merchant
ex hac bibunt libertini;	then the libertines drink,
semel bibunt pro captivis,	one for the prisoners,
post hec bibunt ter pro vivis,	three for the living,
quater pro Christianis cunctis	four for all Christians,
quinquies pro fidelibus defunctis,	five for the faithful dead,
sexies pro sororibus vanis,	six for the loose sisters,
septies pro militibus silvanis.	seven for the footpads in the wood,
Octies pro fratribus perversis,	Eight for the errant brethren,
nonies pro monachis dispersis,	nine for the dispersed monks,
decies pro navigantibus	ten for the seamen,
undecies pro discordantibus,	eleven for the squabblers,
duodecies pro penitentibus,	twelve for the penitent,
tredecies pro iter agentibus.	thirteen for the wayfarers.
Tam pro papa quam pro rege	To the Pope as to the king
bibunt omnes sine lege.	they all drink without restraint.
Bibit hera, bibit herus,	The mistress drinks, the master drinks,
bibit miles, bibit clerus,	the soldier drinks, the priest drinks,
bibit ille, bibit illa,	the man drinks, the woman drinks,
bibit servis cum ancilla,	the servant drinks with the maid,
bibit velox, bibit piger,	the swift man drinks, the lazy man drinks,
bibit albus, bibit niger,	the white man drinks, the black man drinks,
bibit constans, bibit vagus,	the settled man drinks, the wanderer drinks,
bibit rudis, bibit magnus.	the stupid man drinks, the wise man drinks,
Bibit pauper et egrotus,	The poor man drinks, the sick man drinks,
bibit exul et ignotus,	the exile drinks, and the stranger,
bibit puer, bibit canus,	the boy drinks, the old man drinks,
bibit presul et decanus,	the bishop drinks, and the deacon,
bibit soror, bibit frater,	the sister drinks, the brother drinks,
bibit anus, bibit mater,	the old lady drinks, the mother drinks,
bibit ista, bibit ille,	this man drinks, that man drinks,
bibunt centum, bibunt mille.	a hundred drink, a thousand drink.
Parum sexcente nummate	Six hundred pennies would hardly
durant, cum immoderate	suffice, if everyone
bibunt omnes sine meta.	drinks immoderately and immeasurably.
Quamvis bibant mente leta,	However much they cheerfully drink
sic nos rodunt omnes gentes	we are the ones whom everyone scolds,
et sic erimus egentes.	and thus we are destitute.
Qui nos rodunt confundantur	May those who slander us be cursed
et cum iustis non scribantur.	and may their names not be written in the book of the righteous.

This is 3 minutes of the piece. I am so DEAD.