2112 (remaster)

I finally bought a copy of Rush's remastered 2112 this Christmas, waiting on a Space Mountain-like line at BestBuy. Every store should have a display of Rush reissues near the registers for $7.99 a pop! Think of all the gum and People magazines sold at supermarkets-- why not Rush CD's?

Of course, no bonus tracks here. It's hard to imagine anything extra in the world of Rush... sort of like getting a free beer at Yankee Stadium. C'mon, not even an alternate take of "Something For Nothing?" How about a demo of "Temples of Syrinx?" Not a fucking chance.

Anyway, the record still kicks ass after 30 years. Our favorite trio of Canadians were walking on thin ice after Caress of Steel (a good argument against releasing two albums in one year) back in 1975, and Mercury issued a short and simple edict: NO MORE (REALLY) LONG SONGS! I heard that Hugh Syme made his own private plea to Geddy to "take it down a notch or two," but who knows...

As we all know, the boys brought home the bacon with 2112. Still a fair amount of shrieking by Mr. Weinrib going on, but this album marks improvements on all fronts: sound, skill, songwriting and simplicity. The "2112" suite can be understood by any 14-year old with a brain (check your yearbooks!), and rocks pretty darn hard as well. Try explaining the "Fountain of Lamneth" to your stoned buddy during trig class. Hell, just try listening to it!

The fellas also made a nice move with side two's "Lessons," which begins like a weird outtake from Eat a Peach. Here's where Rush really starts to distinguish themselves from the rest of the prog pack: good pop songs that aren't necessarily hit singles. You used to get the feeling that a guy like Greg Lake or John Wetton really had to bust his ass to write that one catchy radio song on the album, and that's why he let the rest of the schmucks pick up the slack for the instrumental stuff. Rush stopped making that mistake with 2112.

"Grand Finale" kicks major Solar Federation butt with no regard for songwriting or anything else. Welcome to the NFL, boys! Your locker's down the hall next to Al DiMeola, John McLaughlin and that Jeff Beck character if he stops chasing the skirts. I even wrote a letter to Jimmy Carter back in '78 requesting that our national anthem be replaced by "Grand Finale". I suppose replacing "O Canada" would have been more appropriate, but I had no way of contacting P.M. Trudeau at the time.

Worth buying? Does Ayn Rand wear red lipstick? Of course, you idiot.

Rating: 4 out of 5

FUN FACT: An effort was made in the late 70's to "sync up" 2112 and Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory a la Dark Side of the Moon/Wizard of Oz. I've certainly never tried it, but I guess I can picture Gene Wilder hopping around to the tune of "A Passage to Bangkok"...

Three of a perfect pair

Pistons at the Garden? My date and I headed down to 33rd St. expecting a complete laugher, and we had the pills to prove it. I had no idea we'd be treated to one of the best basketball games I'd ever seen.

Stephon Marbury was absolutely brilliant, peaking with three clutch free throws to send the game into the 2nd OT. He had confidence, poise and skill like I ain't seen all year. Way to go, you bum.

Frye, Curry, Lee, and ultimately Crawford sealed the deal for the Knicks. Rip Hamilton couldn't miss a shot all night (51 pts), so we clearly needed more than Steph stepping up. We got that from the "Baby Knicks" (minus Nate Robinson, who really is a goddamn baby) tonight, via shooting, toughness, rebounding and timeliness, respectively. The crowd loved David Lee so much tonight, he almost reminded me of Kurt Rambis of the 80's Lakers for a minute there. Then I realized that Lee can make layups, dunk, pass, and probably gets laid a lot-- he's nothing like Rambis at all.

It was a long game. My date was nodding off in the 4th quarter, passed out in the first OT, total flatline in OT 2, but made a miraculous Lazarus-like rise for the 3rd and final overtime period. An historic win for the Knicks by any standard. I didn't drink any alcohol at all, but instead gorged myself on pretzels, ice cream, N/A beer, and whatever prescriptions drifted through my transom. It worked very well-- I was completely cogent throughout the nearly four hour ordeal, except for the time I had to walk unaccompanied around the outside wall of the Garden for about 100 feet, doing my best impression of the prisoners on the island jail complex in Face/Off whose boots are magnetically drawn to the floor they try to walk on.

Bottom line: an energy was there that hasn't been for years and years. OK, maybe in weird isolated cases, but this was the Knicks building on an already strong homestand with a gutsy, emotional win in 3 OT's that truly united and electrified fans, players and staff alike. It meant something.

The Curry, Lee/Frye, Jeffries, Marbury, Crawford thing seems pretty damn nice. Let's give it a shot...

Mysterious ways

This team is tough to figure. They look like they can't rebound to save their lives, but they actually lead the league in boards. Crawford looks like he can't hit Oprah's ass with the ball from 10 feet away, but he ends up with 30 points. Maybe I'm just not paying close enough attention.

Anyway, three wins in a row-- not too shabby. I'll be at the next home game on Wednesday against Philly. That's a boring prospect these days.

Saturday night's alright...

Not much to say about this stupid fight. Nate Robinson's proven himself to be an idiot several times now, so that's not news. Jeffries and Collins were just trying to show they're real Knicks. I could really care less about what happens to Carmelo Anthony.

Dunno if Isiah will be suspended, but I predict the Knicks will win at least half of those games.

We had 6th row seats to last night's fiasco, but ended up singing karaoke instead. Planning on seeing Detroit next Wednesday night-- a brawling team in their own right.

how low can we go?

This season's already had more low points than a funeral on cough syrup, but tonight's worth noting anyway. It was the NBA's worst road team (Wizards) vs. the NBA's worst home team (us). We lost miserably.

Maybe the stratege du jour was "don't challenge guys too much on defense," because the Wiz scored 14 3-pointers (yes, 14 x 3 = 42 points!). Chants of "FIRE THOMAS!" filled the Garden (that was about the only thing filling the Garden) as the Knicks alternated between bricks and airballs. Kenny Smith claimed that the Knick bench is "filled with unknown quantities." I wish!!! These quantities are quite known, thank you. We know them to suck.

The only unknown quantity right now is time. I don't see how things can possibly improve for at least 2 years. In the meantime, I'll be thinking up new ways to make it through 48 minutes at a time of NY Knicks basketball (whippets? glue? sudoku? hookers? all of the above?)...

Courtside Bums

Attended our second Knick game of the season last night. Amazing seats. At least the game was close.

Right before tip-off, a woman led her young son down the aisle next to us-- right down to the front row. The boy was blindfolded on the way in, so the mother could surprise the kid with the treat of a lifetime: courtside seats in the most famous arena in the world. Maybe she put the blindfold back on the kid once the Knicks started sucking all over the joint.

The Raptors are pretty much Chris Bosh and 5 or 6 enormous white guys. All of them can sink jumpers from anywhere on the court. Bosh absolutely torched the Knicks for the first half of play, and then kind of disappeared for a while. Probably the only thing that kept us in the game. He's a little weird-looking, but damn good.

It was "Legends Night" (or something like that) at the Garden last night. Which meant that Pat Ewing and John Starks were endlessly paraded on and off the court for cheap bids at applause. Clyde was too busy working for such silliness, and "Pearl" Washington really didn't seem to give a shit. Bernard King was not present.

Ten minutes or so into the game, two homeless guys staggered down the aisle in front of us, and right into the folding chair section on the floor. Security guys were squawking and motioning to each other as the bums were swarmed upon. To the amazement of the crowd, each of the winos promptly produced a crisp ticket for the night's event. How did these guys get tickets? Who the hell knows. One of them was passed out before the end of the third quarter.

John Starks mingled with the crowd a little bit near the end of the game, but blew off any and all fans not in possession of a large chest.

I realized last night that it's been over 6 years since I REALLY cared about an NBA game.

All The Best Cowboys Have Chinese Eyes (remaster)

A beautiful mess? Beautifully frustrating? How about "arrrrrrrggggggghhhhhh..."

Finally picked up the reissue last week (I'm saving the good ones for the winter). This could truly be called a "transitional" record, in that it got Pete from the Who-ish Empty Glass to the visionary White City at the occasional expense of the listener. We get four truly great songs out of the deal, along with a few other decent cuts and some real clunkers.

Right from the start something smells funny with Chinese Eyes. "Stop Hurting People" is one of those songs that makes classic rockers uncomfortably glance around the room like somebody farted. Then Pete barrels us over with the too-long "Sea Refuses No River" for almost six minutes, complete with corny harmonica and over-intellectual phrasing. I always thought this song could have worked on Quadrophenia, but only with The Who's muscle behind it. The Butler/Phillips rhythm section is tight here (as always), but tight like an asshole instead of a left hook.

Just as you start walking over to put on the new Van Halen record (pretend it's 1982), "Prelude" brightens things for just long enough to make you sit back down. Then we're rewarded with "Face Dances Part Two"-- one of the great singles of the 80's. Pete nails it to the wall here (and in 5/4) for all time (I mean, when was the last time you actually danced to a song in 5/4? Don't gimme that Brubeck b.s.-- that's not really dancing.). Here's the marriage of 70's rock and 80's new wave that "Let My Love Open the Door" heralded two years back (try dancing to King Crimson and you'll sprain your damn ankle).

"Exquisitely Bored" is great, but then things return to the art-swamp. "Communication" pales in comparison to its future father "Face the Face", so don't even bother with it. In fact, check out "North Country Girl" and then skip to the end. No, not the crappy bonus tracks, the real last track.

"Slit Skirts" is easily one of Pete's top 20 moments (that's saying a lot). It's Who's Next for post-punk and post-everything. You can't fucking deny it. OK, there's at least one clunker of a line in there, but who cares? I sure don't.

Rating: 3 out of 5

Finger Lakes

Had an amazing vacation this past weekend in beautiful Geneva, NY. The self-proclaimed "Gem of the Finger Lakes" doesn't have a whole lot of competition up there, but so what...

First let me say that traffic was unbelievably light for Thanksgiving weekend. I drove from Long Island to Geneva by way of Manhattan (had to pick up my date)-- BOTH WAYS-- and hardly had to slow down. The only congestion was (as always) at the Delaware Water Gap on Rte.80. Probably people trying to figure out why they call it a "water gap" and not just a valley or bridge or something like that.

We stayed in a huge mansion from the early 1900's. We were in the "Dining Room" technically, but you wouldn't know it from the strict diet of chips, pretzels and wine we were on. Fireplace, jacuzzi, free toothbrushes-- we had it all. Not to mention a DVD player, which we kept running with about 15 hours worth of "The World at War" and season one of "The Wire" episodes. Things blended together a bit-- at one point I wondered aloud why Stringer Bell didn't just pop a cap in Himmler's ass after he intercepted the re-up.

Only one scary moment (aside from my spending Thanksgiving dinner at my grandmother's assisted-living facility with two stuck-together contact lenses in my left eye, making my eye look and feel like a microwaved onion) for the whole weekend: a more-or-less blacked out late night trip to the local supermarket (Wegman's) in our Chevy Cobalt. Inspection of our receipt the next morning confirmed our strange purchases: two packages of ball point pens, a pint of "Chubby Hubby" ice cream, 4 wine coolers and a cat toy. Don't ask.

What the hell's going on with my favorite show?

The new season of Aqua Teen is seriously fucked up. The first two episodes featured Chinese food delivery guys eating human dicks, followed by guys getting raped by a dog named "Hand Banana". I actually stopped watching the show.

I tried picking it back up tonight, and it was even weirder. I think one of the main characters shot himself in the head. I wasn't really paying attention.

Chocolate explosion

Went to my first Knick game of the season last night. Unbelievable seats right behind the Knick bench-- I could practically strangle Isiah Thomas from where we were sitting. I didn't really get a chance, as Thomas was thrown out of the game for arguing with officials. I think he just wanted to get the hell out of there.

The Knicks opened the game with a 10-0 run against the Celtics. That didn't last long. Wally Sczrerzxbiiyak was scoring at will on Channing Frye, who looked like he had lead in his Keds. Paul Pierce did his usual combination of whining and dining on the court (39 pts), and the Celts won by 4. In all, not a terrible showing by the Knicks.

Lets get to the fun stuff:The Knicks City Dancers were mysteriously absent for the first half hour or so, including the game intro. Probably because somebody stole their entire wardrobe set. They finally pranced out onto the court in hideous-looking pale orange felt skirts, looking like extras from a middle school production of Peter Pan. I heard at least three different people say they looked like "fucking pumpkins."

We were also treated to the rhythms of the New York Sticks, a bunch of kids from some local music program. I liked it better when they just let that kid with the plastic bucket play for 10 minutes.

Things reached a cultural and creative high point with the halftime show of the
"Acko Airs" (?). A loosely-knit troupe of acrobats and gymnasts, the Airs were supposedly united by some sort of anti-drug message. Unfortunately, their performance was absolutely impossible to understand unless you were on some sorts of drugs, which I was. Truthfully, at that point I was simply relieved that I wasn't chosen for the halftime lay-up contest...

After the game we staggered over to 8th & 34th (about 200 feet away) for a raucous midnight showing of Borat, which was absolutely hilarious. Somebody shit diarrhea all over the men's room after the film, which led one group of drunk patrons to speculate that "it looks like Borat was in here..."

Losing Isiah

Haven't written in a while because... the Knicks stink. Really stink.

I tried to make a fun thing out of Isiah not really caring about defense, but now we see he doesn't really care much about rebounding of any kind either. If all he cares about is offense, he's got the wrong bunch of guys-- they can't shoot to save their lives.

Zeke is proving to be a great quote machine, however:"I have zero favorites. I'll bench anyone."Yeah, I think we all have "zero favorites" on this crappy team (and as if benching a guy who sucks and everybody hates is somehow a ballsy thing to do)!

My favorite Knick? Clyde. Hands down.

Tiny Beers

Kudos to Michael Heaton for taking me to see Stuart A. Staples (Tindersticks) at St. Ann's last night. Great show. So what if the drummer totally stole my look...

Knicks win!

Last night's NY/Memphis game was just like an ugly breakup: it was painful, it went on for way too long, communication was poor, nobody took charge, and everybody involved should be ashamed of themselves. Nobody could shoot to save their life either.

The Knicks do seem to make their free throws, though. The Grizz were shooting from the line like they spent the afternoon drinking sizzurp with 8-Ball and MJG. Let's hope games against Houston, New Orleans, Atlanta and Charlotte include similar collaborations with dat purple drank...

Isiah really seems lost. How about these quotes:

"It's never pretty on the road. It's always ugly..."
"I knew there would be a point in the game we'd come unglued..."

Maybe he's onto something.

prime time

Space Needle made a rather strange appearance on "Veronica Mars" this past Tuesday night. Of course I didn't see it-- something about a guy on a phone with "Never Lonely Alone" playing in the background for a nice little chunk of time. Final scene of the episode.

Next I think the Sopranos should use Anders Parker's "Doornail" while somebody's getting the shit kicked out of them.

the honeymoon's over...

Got a VERY drunk call tonight from one of my Met friends (we'll call him "M"). He was in pretty bad shape. I think he was trying to get me to say something bad about the Mets so he could fire right back at the Yanks, but I didn't really have much to say. M was screaming and hollering about the bullpen and guts and gameplans, and all I could think about was my eye doctor appointment tomorrow.
That's when I realized something: I wasn't really that upset this time around. Here's a chronicle of our most recent flops:

2001 WS Game 7: I threw 3 CD's across the room (breaking them), and slept through the night fully clothed with the lights on in a fetal position. Then I went to school the next morning and yelled at 8th graders.

2002 DS Game 4: After earlier storming out of a bar in Tribeca on date with new girlfriend, we decided to watch the game at home with some friends. Metallica was playing so loud that things were falling off the speakers and breaking. Then went to party in Tribeca and embarrassed many people.

2003 WS Game 6: Stumbled out of Stan's and took D train home. Didn't cause any trouble at all. Yelled at a few 8th graders that Monday.

2004 CS Game 7: Took 4 codeines and 2 Ambiens. Made a slurred promise to watch "a lot less sports for a few months," which I immediately broke by watching 10 straight Knick games.

2005 DS Game 5: Listened to Who's Next in its entirety and went to bed.

2006 DS Game 4: Ate a cold steak from Huntington Outback. My dad called and complained to Outback delivery because they lost his lobster tail.

You see, each year has gotten a little easier. Or maybe a little less important. Or less fun.

whew

...and all is well again. if only wagner could have been the guy to blow it (again).

AIRLINE

Just now appreciating the fantastic show Airline on A&E. Way to go Southwest!

JUDGMENT DAY

GUILTY:
Joe Torre
Alex Rodriguez
Randy Johnson
Jaret Wright
Gary Sheffield
Carl Pavano
Mike Mussina
Kyle Farnsworth
Cory Lidle
Octavio Dotel
Craig Wilson

INNOCENT:
Derek Jeter
Chien-Ming Wang
Jorge Posada
Robinson Cano
Bobby Abreu
Bernie Williams
Melky Cabrera
Scott Proctor
Mariano Rivera
Brian Bruney

IRRELEVANT:
Johnny Damon
Hideki Matsui
Sal Fasano
Ron Villone
Miguel Cairo
Andy Phillips
George Steinbrenner
Brian Cashman
3 for $10 beers at pizza joint

fox rocks!

did everybody see the insane audioslave montage at the beginning of fox's yankee pre-game tonight? what the hell was that?! martin luther king jr... wendy o williams... was that a klansman at one point?!

i look to fox for safe, conservative, boring baseball coverage-- not for fucking altamont!

AMERICA'S DRUNKEST CITIES

[from Forbes.com]

1. Milwaukee
2. Minneapolis-St.Paul
3. Columbus
4. Boston
5. Austin
6. Chicago
7. Cleveland
8. Pittsburgh
9. Philadelphia(tie) Providence

My personal performances in these cities:

1. Providence
2. Austin
3. Chicago
4. Philadelphia
5. Boston
6. Cleveland
7. Pittsburgh
8. Minneapolis
9. Columbus
10. Milwaukee

BRONX CHEERS: booed Yanks at home 1997-2006

1. Alex Rodriguez
2. Hideki Irabu
3. Jeff Weaver
4. Chuck Knoblauch
5. Jason Giambi
6. Kevin Brown
7. Alan Embree
8. Esteban Loaiza
9. Armando Benitez
10. Denny Neagle

hon. mention: Felix Heredia, Sterling Hitchcock

The old 7-8-9 punch...

Michael Kay brought up an interesting query last night:

When was the last time three Yankee outfielders batted 7-8-9 in the lineup?

YANKEE FART ALERT

I swear to god Michael Kay farted during the broadcast last night. Listen to the "Yankee Replay" this morning if you don't believe me. I think it was the bottom (tehee) of the 4th inning-- there's a pause in the conversation and a clear and concise "PPPFFFT" can be heard. The fart is followed by another lull, and then Kaat and O'Neill mysteriously disappear for the rest of the inning. I guess it could have been one of those guys, but...

GREAT GROOVES OF THE 80's

"Let's Dance"- Tony Thompson
"Spirits in the Material World"- Stewart Copeland
"Everybody Wants to Rule the World"- Manny Elias
"Sledgehammer"- Manu Katche
"Give Blood"- Simon Phillips
"Out of Touch"- Mickey Curry
"Tom Sawyer"- Neil Peart
"No Reply At All"- Phil Collins
"One Thing Leads To Another"- Adam Woods
"Love is a Battlefield"- Myron Grombacher
"(Oh) Pretty Woman"- Alex Van Halen

Sopranos gossip

my brother jerry knows a guy on the sopranos set-- he told me meadow gets really drunk in an upcoming episode and sleeps with christopher! i don't believe it, but he swears he heard it from one of the assistants...

dregs

here's a fun idea:
what's your favorite dregs album of all time? i might have to go with "free fall"- although a lot of you might disagree with me!