June 23, 1999

Well, this is the second issue of Fred.

STAR WARS

Well, I saw Episode I about a month ago, and unfortunately have nothing to say about it. Well, OK, it was a visual extravaganza. It was like walking into a store as a kid, looking at all the chocolate in the world, and then actually eating it. That's how it felt to see it. The story was kind of not compelling. In fact, it was impenetrably convoluted. The dialogue was completely moronic. The acting was poor. The accents were insulting. The kid and that Ja Ja alien were completely unbearable to withstand for more than 10 seconds on the screen. Let's see...what else? Oh Darth Maul. Man, he kicked some ass. The movie would've been a complete triumph had Darth Maul offed the kid (future Darth Vader) and been in it in every scene instead of a few choice minutes here and there. There should be a separate movie series dedicated only to Darth Maul. Darth Maul Rising. Darth Maul Attacks. Darth Maul Digs Deeper. Darth Maul Feigns To Look Evil. Darth Maul Kicks Ass. Anyway, so that was the movie. Oh, Ewan McGregor...well, yes, he was in Trainspotting and he was in Shallow Grave but he was pretty wooden in this one.

GO NOW

I had no clue Richard Hell was such a good writer. And by good, I mean incredibly perceptive about the depths of depravity and self-centeredness which we humans can descend to. Go Now is a book published by Simon & Schuster in 1996. His lyrical (yes, lyrical) ambition in this book is amazing, and he actual attains the impossible--to write lines and lines of prose like a poet, filtered as it were through the lens of a hard dose of unpretentiousness. The story is essentially autobiographical: about a punk rocker past his prime who is given one last chance (circa 1980) to make something of his career by traveling across the U.S. in a beat up car with a strangely detached yet hopeful female companion of his. Her job: to take pictures; his: to write text for the photos; ultimate goal: publish a book. The subtext below all this is, of course, heroin. The descent to heroin, the ascent from heroin, the descent again into heroin. Be forewarned: this is not the usual run-of-the-mill self-pitied "I was a rock star on heroin and my life when to shit" story. This is sharp stuff, it is unforgiving, and it is brutally honest in its assessment of what obsession does to you. Richard Hell, of course, lived the life himself. He was in four seminal punk rock bands (Neon Boys, Television, The Heartbreakers, and Richard Hell & The Voidoids) and in my mind was PUNK ROCKER NO. 1, predating Johnny Rotten by several years. For those interested in the Hell's "real life" depravity over his search for heroin, pick up a copy of Please Kill Me: An Oral History of Punk. I would not recommend the latter for the faint-hearted or those who hold their punk rock idols in high esteem. This, my friends, is not the good, classy, artistic side of Iggy Pop, Lou Reed, Dee Dee Ramone, Richard Hell, Richard Lloyd (who had the best heroin stories), Sid Vicious, Debbie Harry, or whoever. But back to Go Now. I'm still not finished with it---I'm reading it very slowly.....you have to read it slowly, because every sentence is like a ripe peach in your mouth. I read a sentence. I think I know what it means because it makes sense. It reaches down to my essence. I think "this is me." But I know it isn't really. This is what makes it so eerie. It is somewhere between the reader and the writer, the perfect space between the artist and his/her art. I want that space for me too, but I'm positive I'll never attain it. This is a great book about why life is ultimately so pathetic, no matter who you are. Interview with Hell here. Excerpts from the book here.

MERCURY REV CONCERT REVIEW

Well, folks, I saw Mercury Rev a couple of weeks ago at Graffiti here in Pittsburgh. Having been slightly put off by their ostensibly growing Brian Wilson fascination, I was in for a surprise. Their sound was indeed crystal clear, and they did not curb their former tendencies to fly off the handle into the stratosphere for long elongated space rock jams that made you forget you were standing in a smelly bar with smelly people all around you. It was actually, less space, more rock than the last time I saw them, but they were breathtakingly beautiful in their ability to make a mundane song (especially those on the new album) come alive in a fantastic way. They played most of the new album Deserter's Songs, giving me a much better appreciation for the gems trapped on that CD. As I said, they are more rock now, with songs having a structure, feedback moderated a little bit. There was still that bizarred childlike weirdness. The lead singer Jonathan Poneman (who actually was a member of Flaming Lips for one stunningly brilliant album) must be in his mid-30s, yet he had the demeanor of a 12 year old, laughing as he would shake his head and look at the floor in the sheer joy of the music around him. As one song reached its insane crescendo-like coda, he whispered into the mike "You may find yourself, living in a shotgun shack..." It was transendent. I was suprised that they reached into their first album Yerself Is Steam for several numbers. None of them, however, matched the sheer power of the songs on the studio album itself, perhaps because those songs were more suited to their space rock format. Their encore was a brilliant version of Neil Young's "Cortez the Killer." The crowd swayed in unison, and we saw Cortez meet Montezuma, the lead guitar was flying, Poneman flailing his guitar over a strange electronic noise instrument that made sounds as if from nowhere. Neil Young would have been proud. Simply put, Mercury Rev are the best American live band today. The fact that they were the best American live band in 1995 by playing substantially different music is amazing.

THE BETA BAND

I've been considering buying the older e.p. collection or the new album for months now. If anyone knows anything about the quality of these releases, please let me know. Since no one is actually ever going to read this, this would make this a meaningless exercise---a virtual impossibility.

DEEP SPACE NINE

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine ended its run of seven years on TV a few weeks ago with a two-hour finale. It was truly an amazing ending and one that made shed a few tears. I was really upset about the ending of DS9. People go on about the original Star Trek, the Next Generation, or Voyager, but all of them (well, most) were ridiculous. OK, let's back up a little bit. Star Trek in itself is a ridiculous media construction. It has nothing to do with reality. Having said that, within the confines of that ridiculousness, DS9 was an unusually affecting television series. The original Star Trek was compelling in a corny way--the stories were like Twilight Zone episodes sprinkled with some twist of modern day anthropology mapped on humans rather than cultures ("...we humans aren't all that great after all..."). The Next Generation didn't improve on that formula, at least not for the first few years. It didn't help that they had terrible actors (Whoever play Commander Reiker and Tasha Yar should be hounded out of the acting profession----"Number One" should be arrested if he tries to do anything besides Alien Autopsy Video narrations---I wish someone would make a Reiker Prime Directive---never to appear again on TV). But in the last two years of its existence, the Next Generation began to get more sophisticated. They dropped the dramatic theme music, upped the nuance factor, and eliminated Reiker from most of the good plots. The then ended abrupty, but they ended on a high note. Voyager on the other hand is swash-buckling Flash Gordon ressurected for those who missed the 1930s Flash Gordon serial. Voyager is good, but it pales in comparison (in fact all of them do) next to DS9. Deep Space Nine had an innate sophistication that was neither forced nor pretentious. For the first time in a Star Trek show (except for that brief period in the Next Generation), it really explored characters and introduced character development. I really liked everyone on the show. And it didn't commit the most heinous crime on TV, having a cutesy kid run around and be cute. Kill the child! Kill the child! No, they actually made the child grow up and become a cool character. DS9 also had two episodes that made me cry. Now, I don't cry for shit ("...I'm a man...") but these two episodes were just remarkable in their depth and breadth. They were not complicated by any stretch of the imagination. But they appealed to that sense of the possibility of loss that most of us I think relate to, one about a father and a son, and the other about a couple. And to top it off, they had a several year long storyline that culminated in the final show. And it worked. At the same time, I don't want to suggest DS9 was always excellent. In fact, there were some real stinkers---guilty of the standard Star Trek in-your-face moralizing or pop anthropology lecture. Anyway, while millions of unsuspecting fools will continue to watch the X-Files and think it's the best sci-fi show ever made, they will unfortunately have missed a show that was much much better. The X-Files can claim to be very clever (I mean it is)----it's too clever, which makes the dialogue completely wooden, like Mulder Robot and Scully Robot doing a Starsky and Hutch impersonation with aliens as the enemy. The narration on X-Files is actually more comical than William Shatner's increasing beer gut. Having said that, I do like the X-Files, but those guys seem a little too full of themselves. Anyway, DS9 is gone. The last scene was wonderful. Jake and Kira standing in front of a huge window in the station. The camera moves backward and suddenly we are outside the station, we see their figures grow increasingly smaller through the window as the camera slowly backs away from the station. Eventually we see the vista of the whole station, the camera continues to back away, and finally the station becomes a tiny fragile thing in space, alone, all these years, finally ending. The music is understated and not dramatic. It's a beautiful few seconds of television.