Barry (Seasons 3-4): I’ve always admired Hader, but now I really can’t wait to see where his career takes him. He seems capable of anything.
The Bear (Season 3): Liked it more than most, but would at least agree it wasn’t nearly as strong as previous seasons. Loved Marcus’ answer to what he wants his legacy to be. “I kept my chin up. Listened and learned. Did honest work. [Was] fun to be around, and an excellent emergency contact.”
Frasier (Season 2): First season was a fun novelty, this was at best a decent distraction.
Hacks (Seasons 2-3): Even though I liked the first season, wasn’t sure this would hold my interest. I was wrong.
Nobody Wants This (Season 1): This year’s “probably should have been a movie,” but I enjoyed it. Admittedly got a bit too gitty when I realized this was in the Party Down Extended Universe.
The Penguin (miniseries): Shoehorning a connection would only point out that it isn’t the gritty crime drama/character examination it wants to be. As someone long-obsessed with the Bat-Man, where this succeeds and Joker failed is in divorcing the Caped Crusader from the proceedings.
Ripley (miniseries, hopefully): A talentless Ripley in a sluggish adaptation. If I think it’s prettier looking than its otherwise incomparably better 1999 counterpart, that’s only because Michelangelo Antonioni has conditioned me to prefer Italy in black and white.
Compiled this list at Letterboxd, distilled down from 335. Not a “best of 2024,” more a “best watched in 2024.” Maybe I’ll do a proper list for 2024. If the Academy can wait til March, so can I.
Down a bit from last year, mostly due to vinyl consumption. Apparently in my jazz era. Still a punk at heart, though.
Also, as of today, Last.fm has been tracking music I’ve listened to on my computer and phone for fifteen years. Looking at the top artists, I’d say not necissarily the right order, but yeah, that’s probably my top 50. Or at least close enough.
“How many more of these stinking, double-downer sideshows will we have to go through before we can get ourselves straight enough to put together some kind of national election that will give me and the at least 20 million people I tend to agree with a chance to vote FOR something, instead of always being faced with that old familiar choice between the lesser of two evils?”
Oh, Mr. Thompson, If only you were still alive and kicking. If we really are going down in a ball of flames, there’s no one I’d rather have covering it.
Had the pleasure to see the Muppets in a wonderful exhibit in Grand Rapids last year and this film served as an excellent reminder of that inspirational day.
In his own words:
“Life’s like a movie, write your own ending. Keep believing, keep pretending.”
I will likely always be more of a George Carlin or Kurt Vonnegut, but I will forever strive to be a Jim Henson.
The renaissance had come and gone. It ended with either Who’s Next in August, ’71, or The Rolling Stones’ Exile on Main St., May of ’72. You can argue all night about which record began the renaissance, but nobody’s going to argue that starting somewhere around Jackie Brenston’s Rocket 88, 1951, the next twenty years would be the most inspiring, explore the most innovations, and have the most significant cultural impact in musical history. The level of greatness achieved in virtually every musical genre (blues, jazz, gospel, country, rhythm and blues, rockabilly, soul, and rock ‘n roll) was so extraordinary that it will never be equaled. Not until new instruments areinvented, new scales used, and new technological means of communication are plugged directly into your cerebral cortex… Beginning somewhere in the early ’70s, musicianship and singer-songwriter craft replaced visceral, passionate, accessible, danceable rock ‘n roll as intellect and sophistication became the mainstream… So what do you do in the face of this rather harsh reality? A reality that says the ’50s are over, the ’60s are over, fun is over, and you missed it? It’s a secondhand culture for you? Hand-me-down riffs, used emotions and theatrical jive.
Fortunately, you have the one thing going for you that transcends eras, fashion and time. You have the one thing that all truly great rock ‘n roll bands have in common: you’re gonna play in a band because you have no other choice. You don’t fit in anywhere in society and you can’t do anything else. You might as well ignore everything that is going on, and invent your own style. You might as well be the most important influence on the next 30 or 40 years of rock ‘n roll. You might as well be the Ramones.
“Innocence brings forth innovation. A lack of knowledge can create more openings to break new ground. The Ramones thought they were making mainstream bubblegum pop. To most others, the lyrical content alone- about lobotomies, sniffing glue, and pinheads- was enough to challenge this assumption.
While the band saw themselves as the next Bay City Rollers, they unwittingly invented punk rock and started a countercultural revolution. While the music of the Bay City Rollers had great success in its time, the Ramones’ singular take on rock and roll became more popular and influential. Of all the explanations of the Ramones, the most may be: innovation through ignorance.”
My friend Tom had the good fortune of studying under Albini in the early 2000s and had this to say:
“Steve is one of a literal handful of people that I would consider a role model. In addition to opening my ears to what a good record should sound like, he showed me what a good person should act like. As an impressionable teenager and into my early 20s, he taught me how and why to treat people ethically and how to give absolutely zero fucks about the opinion of people who don’t.”
“I explained this to Kurt but I thought I’d better reiterate it here. I do not want and will not take a royalty on any record I record. No points. Period. I think paying a royalty to a producer or engineer is ethically indefensible. The band write the songs. The band play the music. It’s the band’s fans who buy the records. The band is responsible for whether it’s a great record or a horrible record. Royalties belong to the band.
I would like to be paid like a plumber: I do the job and you pay me what it’s worth. The record company will expect me to ask for a point or a point and a half. If we assume three million sales, that works out to 400,000 dollars or so. There’s no fucking way I would ever take that much money. I wouldn’t be able to sleep.”
Two massive tomes I finally conquered: The Stand and The Pale King. Wouldn’t necessarily recommend either but I am glad I read both.
Of course I love reading about movies. After making a list of my favorite (read: not the ones I think are the best) films, I realized two filmmakers had four films on my list: PT Anderson, and one that surprised, Sidney Lumet. I immediately sought out his book Making Movies. It was a bit dated in describing how the sausage is made, but it had a lot of great stories and even better advice, bits that carry over to the creation in any art form.
Recently finished Mrs. Maisel and wanted to keep living in that world as well, so I finished my copy of Lenny Bruce’s How to Talk Dirty and Influence People and have come to the conclusion that I prefer the fictional portrayal.
And of course I love reading about music. More specifically The Beatles. Read Revolution in the Head, Dreaming The Beatles and 150 Glimpses and loved the different styles and tones of all three, especially the latter.
I did also read, as well as listened to, the Beastie Boys Book and would recommend both. The book’s art and photos are great, but the audiobook elevates the material, and is read by the most absurd cast ever, including Steve Buscemi, Elvis Costello, Chuck D, Snoop Dogg, Will Ferrell, Kim Gordon, LL Cool J, Spike Jonze, Rachel Maddow, Tim Meadows, Better Middler, Rosie Perez, Amy Poehler, Kelly Reichardt, John C. Reilly, Maya Rudolph, Jon Stewart and Ben Stiller.
A book I read about film and music and television and pop culture junk and how it all ties together was Chuck Klosterman’s The Nineties: A Book.
On Loving God had some great passages and advice, not just for Catholics.
The Swallowed Man was a fun read, the story of Pinocchio from Geppetto’s point of view (from inside the belly of the whale, no less).
“Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynman!” didn’t offer as much insight as I was hoping for, but it was a curious glimpse at an incredibly interesting man.
I don’t really know much about poetry but I enjoyed Rotten Perfect Mouth by Eva HD, whom I discovered after watching a film I did not care for, but the poem hasn’t left me.
The Bear (Seasons 1-2): Second season surpassed the first. The bottleneck episodes, “Fishes” and “Forks,” were easily my two favorite single episodes of a show the last year.
Brooklyn Nine-Nine (Seasons 1-8): Just what I needed. Not quite Parks or The Office, but a solid sitcom from start to finish.
Better Call Saul (Seasons 5-7): Stuck the landing. For my money, better than Breaking Bad, but also surprisingly wrapped up the entire saga perfectly.
Curb Your Enthusiasm (Season 12): Of course Larry would invent the “Spite Finale.” A hilarious remake of the Seinfeld ending that everyone hated. And the title? “No Lessons Learned.” Bravo.
Dave (Seasons 1-3): I think ‘Lil Dicky is a immensely talented MC, but I like his show much more than his music.
Party Down (Season 3): Solid revival. Not quite as funny as the first two seasons, but this cast is too solid to fail.
Rick and Morty (Seasons 6-7): My last review still stands: “Like most nerdy things, the fan base kinda ruins it, but this show is too funny and too in my wheelhouse not to love. And quite often, it is just as deep as they say it is.”
Riverdale (Seasons 5-7): Not ashamed to say that I am an Archie Comics fan, but this show should have lost me long ago. Twin Peaks it ain’t.
Saturday Night Live (Seasons 48-49): More meh moments than classics, but not as bad as they say and sometimes flat-out hilarious. I liked every bit of last week’s episode with Gosling.
South Park (Seasons 24-26): Not at its peak, but still the most cutting satire on television.
Succession (Seasons 1-4): A masterclass in writing and acting.
Ted Lasso (Season 3): Nothin’ wrong with comfort television.
“Today Mark Borchardt looks less like an amusing hustler, and more like a poetic and even tragic hero; the living embodiment of unfulfilled dreams. Even that scene with the unforgiving cabinet door takes on a deeper meaning. It’s still funny, but it also summarizes the lives of dreamers like Mark in a single image. The pursuit of something bigger than yourself so often feels like banging your head against the wall. And when you bang your head against a wall, the wall always wins.”
Since Hulu launched a “top 15” list of their most popular shows and films, I decided to counter with the fifteen things currently on Hulu I’d recommend:
Better Things: Before The Bear or Ted Lasso, other shows had made me laugh more, but few have made me smile, cry or feel as much as this one.
Bottle Rocket: Wes Anderson’s underrated debut. Flawed, but but perhaps his funniest?
Brigsby Bear: Amusing, endearing little picture about a lot of things. I went into this fresh and think that has to be the best way to watch this so no spoilers, but if you wanna talk about Brigsby Bear I can be found at Brigsbyfan2.
Closer: Not sure what it says about me that this is one of my favorite films, but it is.
Damsels in Distress: Whit Stillman and Greta Gerwig should have made more pictures together.
Eight Days a Week: Probably the most contrarian thing about me is that I prefer The Beatles’ first half to their second.
Raising Arizona: “I tried to stand up and fly straight, but it wasn’t easy with that sumbitch Reagan in the White House.”
Spin Me Round: A dark comedy Suspiria. Saw this at Cinequest last year and everyone was in stitches, one of the hardest laughing audiences I’ve ever been in.
Since seeing Dead and Co. in Colorado last month, the Grateful Dead have been in heavy rotation since. Perfect summer music.
Since we are now in what Dead Head’s call “The Days Between” (the days between Garcia‘s birthday and the date of his passing), if you’ve never listened, I think their run from ’70 to ’72 is perfect from the initiated.
The Go-Go’s, Beauty And The Beat (1981): “This band is in the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall Of Fame, and this album is 90 percent of the reason why.”
The Jesus & Mary Chain, Psychocandy (1985): “There are countless artists posting albums on Bandcamp right now who stole all of their ideas from The Jesus & Mary Chain, and they might not even know it. They might think they’re ripping off The Velvet Underground, but they are really ripping off this band who ripped off The Velvet Underground in the mid-’80s.”
The Mothers Of Invention, Freak Out! (1966): “I completely understand why people can’t stand the guy. He writes stupidly complicated music and stupidly stupid lyrics. Personally, I think Zappa is 1) a genius and 2) one of the most obnoxious men who ever lived.”
The B-52’s, The B-52’s (1979): “As a public service, I am sharing this video. I have watched it 25 times and I suggest you do the same. And then make this album a cornerstone of your life.”
Fiona Apple, Tidal (1998): “This might very well be the greatest debut album made by a teenager. I am exactly six days older than Fiona Apple, and I was working a customer service job in the summer of 1996, which is a million times less impressive than writing and recording ‘Shadowboxer.'”
Elvis Costello, My Aim Is True (1977): “The only track on My Aim Is True that’s not convincing is ‘I’m Not Angry,’ which is like Marvin Gaye recording a tune called ‘I’m Not Horny.'”
Pavement, Slanted And Enchanted (1992): “In the proverbial ‘what would you play for an alien to sum up this kind of music?’ scenario, Slanted And Enchanted must be regarded as the go-to soundtrack for any hipster extraterrestrial.”
Beastie Boys, Licensed To Ill (1986): “Uncut Id is taking the riff from Sabbath’s ‘Sweet Leaf” and combining it with the drum break from Zeppelin’s ‘When The Levee Breaks,’ and then inviting three idiots to chant ‘Ali Baba and the 40 thieves’ eight times over it.”
The Strokes, Is This It (2001): “Though if I ever write a column about the best second albums ever, Room On Fire might rank higher on that list than Is This It does here.”
And of course Pink Flag, Exile in Guyville, 3 Feet High & Rising, Ramones, Horses and The Velvet Underground & Nico. Jimi Hendrix took the top spot, which my stepdad would probably be happy about. DJ Shadow and Ween did get honorable mentions.
Hyden also speaks of albums that feel like debuts. In my opinion, an album in that department that always sticks out is You Forgot It in People, which projected Broken Social Scene from a small, mostly instrumental side project, to one of the most epic and ambitious rock bands this century.
A few omissions surprised me and few that made the cut downright bewildered me, but that is why I like lists like this.
Here are five I would have considered.
Violent Femmes, Violent Femmes (1982): Shocked this didn’t make the cut, so much so that I have to imagine Hyden isn’t a fan. I am hard pressed to think of too many debuts that are so quintessentially the band itself.
The Smiths, The Smiths (1984): Everything one would love about The Smiths is all right here. Not my favorite but could easily be someone’s favorite Smiths record. Especially if “This Charming Man” makes the cut.
Le Tigre, Le Tigre (1999): Their best album. Effortlessly cool, sample-laden new wave/punk record that will get you dancing more than any other radically political album I can think of.
Imperial Teen, Seasick (1996): Their best album, too. An even poppier Pixies (and Breeders!), for my money this is the most underrated alt-rock album of the 90s and the #1 album I want to see on Spotify.
Belle & Sebastian, Tiger Milk (1996): I still have love for this band, but in the ’90s and early ’00s, they were the best.
Oh, completely forgot that first Clash record. Listen to that. It rips.
I often want to live in films, but seldom ones this dour. But jazz clubs in the 50s, that’s my love language. Especially when it’s shot this beautifully, this dreamy. The faux-Paris streets at night are as out of this world as the soundtrack.
Round Midnight unfolds so nonchalantly, there’s almost no exposition. Things just happen. Sometimes they’re beautiful. Often they’re tragic.
Sometimes that’s one and the same.
Dexter Gordon is brilliant. Musically, obviously, and I’m glad he and Hancock got prizes for it. But with all due respect to Paul Newman, Gordon was robbed (I’d also take Hoskins in Mona Lisa over Newman, for the record). Incidentally, Newman was in the good but incomplete Paris Blues, a story that touches on the exiled black jazz musicians of Paris, something this movie greatly expands upon. Gordon wasn’t an actor, but he lived the part in real life. That doesn’t always work but when it is meant to inflect real life pain, it sure as shit does. He plays a composite of two real life musicians, but here he’s playing himself all the same.
Based on Francis Paudras’ memoir, we find the character of Francis outside the club on a rainy night, too broke to go inside but too in love with jazz and too indebted to Dale, whose music he fell in love with years earlier, not to huddle outside and take in what he can. They form a beautiful friendship, and while one could see Francis as someone suffering from a white savior complex, that would be dismissive. He sees Dale’s talent, but he also and more importantly he sees his pain. Unfortunately he cannot reconcile how one can exist with the other. He can’t understand how someone so brilliant can’t rub two nickels together, doesn’t understand addiction, and probably doesn’t understand the black struggle. He says on the first night he hears (not sees) Dale, that he played like a God. If our gods suffer, what does that mean for us?
I have walked and jogged and ran quite a bit since the pandemic began some 87 years ago, but this summer I decided to step it up (unfortunate pun intended).
100,000 steps per week, every week, for twenty weeks. Two million steps. Sounded like a reasonable goal. I didn’t think about my Fitbit dying, being sick, being injured, plans, writing, just not wanting to fucking go outside. Making up for those days though, really pushing myself to get to 100,000k, those days truly made it worth it and the experience and the accomplishment all the more rewarding. I ended up taking 2,038,018 steps, which ended up a bit under 1,000 miles. Which in retrospect, that should have been the goal. (I dumped the data on Facebook if you really wanna see/really just wanna be my friend).
“I would walk for six or eight hours a day, composing thoughts that I would later jot down on paper,” wrote Nietzsche, who by his thirties would walk closer to ten hours a day and write much of which he is known for. “Sit as little as possible; do not believe any idea that was not born in the open air and of free movement — in which the muscles do not also revel… Sitting still… is the real sin against the Holy Ghost.”
This summer on my walks, I also listened to Atomic Habits, a book that is billed as “an easy and proven way to build good habits and break bad ones.” Lots of great stuff in there: we imitate the people we envy. Only turn the TV on if you know what you want to watch. Never make a single aspect of your identity an overwhelming portion of who you are. Until you work as hard as those you admire or envy, don’t explain away their success as luck. And so on.
A big one was making habits more attractive by rewarding oneself or combining habits. “Doing the thing you need to do means doing the thing(s) you get to.”
So usually if I want to read the news, check my personal Instagram, I do it while walking. If I want to listen to a particular podcast, I do so by walking. I make work calls in the middle of a two hour hike.
I walk more than I run, but by combining habits I feel like I am getting more done, even when large chunks of time are dedicated to clearing my head, or thinking about my writing, or brainstorming for the printing company I co-own. Not all of these tasks are rewarding, but it allows me to multitask and often breaks up my walks into nice chunks, which itself is rewarding.
I would recommend doing the same. Maybe listen to Atomic Habits while you do. If you happen to live in Michigan, Joseph Beyer just wrote about some great places to have a winter walk. And regardless, good luck and happy trails. Keep on truckin’.
