Police reunion...

Of all the guys, I think Stewart Copeland is the most out of shape. He was barely keeping up during half the songs I saw on that stupid VH-1 thing.

As I'm sure you all know, I was one of the handful of people at the legendary Police show in Poughkeepsie in '78. I was only about 15 at the time. Don't believe me? Scroll down on this link to October 23, 1978-- you'll see your proof, asshole.

http://hometown.aol.de/dtmrcls/homepage/katzen.html

Hemispheres (remaster)

Rush's 1978 release Hemispheres (aka "Ass-Cheeks") puts together the final pieces of the trio's "modern" sound. Tight as a Winnipeg schoolgirl, here is a band at their performance peak. Production value would continue improving into the next decade, but it can be argued that Rush never pushed their playing further than on Hemispheres. It can also be argued that this is one of the most ridiculous album covers of all time...

As if to say "fuck you, monsieur," the boys open and close the first side with an 18-minute sequel to "Cygnus X-1." Not the wisest idea in the history of Mercury Records, but they damn near pull it off. The whole Greek-myths-in-outer-space thing wears thin quickly, but the whole thing's fairly listenable. Scotch tape and scissors could've made the thing a cozy seven or eight minutes long, but who's counting? They get a pass on sheer balls.

After sailing in and out of black holes and G-d knows what else, the weary listener is treated to the rocker "Circumstances." Ronnie James Dio woulda been proud to perform this song. Unfortunately, Neil Peart sounds like he's doing everything he can to derail the song rhythmically during the opening verses. All he has to do is rock straight through-- instead he chooses to play hide-and-seek with the damn downbeat. Why???

Have no fear, because all is very well with "The Trees," one of the most beloved Rush songs in the catalog. "The Trees" gave birth to countless useless woodblock purchases by sorry young drummers, as well as more dime-store philosophers than "Dust in the Wind". But it's kind of a perfect song, innit?

Aaaaaah... "La Villa Strangiato" (according to Greg in Oakville, Canada, this roughly translates to "The Strange Village." Thanks a million, Greg...). I'm not sure that a better Rush song exists. At least not in my world.

One might argue that "La Villa" (subtitled "An exercise in Self-Indulgence") represents an historic meeting in instrumental music: krautrock and fusion. I know I've drunkenly argued that point many, many times. The tune brilliantly fades in with a nifty little guitar mesh-pattern, accompanied only by Geddy blurps and Neil tinklings. Rhythm section rides in next (wait-- that's Geddy and Neil too!!), and then we're off to the "Strangiato Theme (part III)"!

The breakdown of "A Lerxst in Wonderland (part IV)" features Peart doing his best Bill Bruford imitation: a hiccupping hat-snare-kick kinda thing. Alex even does some nice Adrian Belew-style volume swells, but Geddy manages to avoid the Chapman Stick here. (By the way, I know exactly where each of the "movements" begin and end because I own the percussion chart to "La Villa," thank you very much. I even tried to program the drum part on a Roland 505 drum machine once-- I woulda had better luck trying to translate a Nabokov novel into Hebrew.)

Anyhoo, "La Villa" kicks some serious asscheeks. I've always wondered what the boys did after they finished that monstrous take in the studio. Did they go on a 72-hour coke-and-whore binge across the Welsh countryside? Did they immediately demand millions of dollars from Mercury Records, unrecoupable? Did they each take a giant dump in the basement?

We mortals may never know. Chances are, they hopped a plane back to Toronto and caught the rest of the Maple Leafs game with a bottle of pop and some pretzels...

rating: 3 1/2 out of 5

Fun Fact: Rush settled out of court with Raymond Scott for their ripoff of "Powerhouse" in part V of "La Villa Strangiato".

Heat stroke

Hear ye, hear ye!!! The Knicks have finally bottomed out.

The first quarter just ended in Miami, and the Knicks are down 40-12. Shaq and Wade aren't even playing! The Heat scored at least 25 unanswered points-- I swear to Christ...

Cano on 22's

The Yanks made a bold move today: Robinson Cano offered his #22 to Clemens "if Roger comes aboard." C'mon, Bobby! Make it mean something, and give up your number before he even signs. Now that would truly be respect for one's elders.

The Red Sox countered with an offer of their own. They promised to fund the return of the legendary "Roger Clemens' Flame Roasted Chicken" restaurant in downtown Providence if the Rocket chooses their team...

A Farewell to Kings (remaster)

1977's A Farewell to Kings has a viable candidate for "best Rush song ever" ("Xanadu"), another for "most popular Rush song ever" ("Closer to the Heart"), and two strong entries for "worst Rush song ever" ("Madrigal" and "Cygnus X-1"). And there are only 6 songs on the record.

We begin with a jolly little acoustic intro title track--one imagines dwarves and jesters hopping around a medieval courtyard... which gives way to a nice little rocker. That's just an appetizer for the colossal "Xanadu," which of course was decreed by Kubla Khan. Whatever the hell that means. Anyway, you get loads of neat percussion, volume pedals, bells, synthesizers, crazy drum fills, and a little bit of Coleridge as well. Over the top? Way over.

We all know about "Closer to the Heart," although I've always wondered exactly how ploughmen are supposed to sow a new mentality(?). One minute Peart's on the hardcore Ayn Rand tip, then he's spouting what sounds like Commie bullshit... whatever. I never really liked this song as much as everyone else.

On the other hand, "Cinderella Man"'s always been right down my alley. Neil drops some serious drum knowledge here-- mad rudiments straight outta NARD fo yo ass. He sounds like a friggin typewriter half the song.

Reissues may sound better, but bad songs stay bad. I skipped "Madrigal" like we all used to do when it first came out. Then I made the mistake of listening to "Cygnus X-1" with a hangover. Don't ever do this.

"Cygnus" is not only about a black hole, but is also the musical and creative equivalent of a black hole. Half-baked riffs and adolescent lyrical ideas are Frankenstein-ed together into a horrifying ten minute atrocity. Neil and Geddy's syncopated funk breaks are absurd, and Alex drones on long guitar repeats like he just drank a bottle of Canadian cough syrup. The whole mess ends with Geddy shrieking like a crackhead-- maybe his worst ever. As if that's not enough, the liner notes ominously read "to be continued" at the end of the lyrics.

After ending on this bad note (I wish it was just one note!), I began to question the existence of Rush in general. More exactly: What the hell am I doing listening to this garbage? Who the hell are these guys? Where the hell is the Advil?

Answer: Geddy's a total freak but a great bass player. Neil's a nerd but an insanely great drummer (duh). Alex is a great guitarist, but d___k's way too much and will require extended breaks from touring in decades to follow.

Rating: 3 out of 5 (or 4 out of 6 songs)

FUN FACT: The spaceship that Neil Peart's character rides into the black hole in "Cygnus X-1" is called the Rocinante-- Greek mythology, Steinbeck reference, or both? (or neither... maybe Cygnus X-1 is really supposed to be an enormous pussy.)

A-O-Kei!!!

Imagine my excitement when today's programming on the YES network was suddenly interrupted for a newsflash! Did they solve the mystery of the West Side gas-like odor? Not yet, but the Yankees were about to introduce a freshly-shorn Kei Igawa at the Stadium.

The guy looked pretty solid at a somewhat awkward press conference in the Bronx this afternoon. His control of the English language is a work in progress, falling somewhere in between Michael Kay and Randy Levine. More importantly, he seemed as calm as a cucumber.

Far more interesting was the appearance of Hideki Irabu's former translator, the strangely androgynous Kota Ishijima. Somebody in the YES control room made the mistake of doing a close-up on him for the first translated question-- that mistake wasn't repeated for the remainder of the program. I was praying that a rogue reporter might ask Ishijima a direct question about his firing by George Steinbrenner 9 years ago and subsequent hiring by the Old Homestead steakhouse downtown.

Apparently Hideki Matsui was invited to the press conference but politely declined. No big deal, but why did they feel the need to open the event by telling us this? More on this developing story later...

Raggedy Randy

As we bid adieu to the Unit, let's compare his stats to other recent two-season acquisitions (regular season):

Randy Johnson 34-19, 4.37 ERA, 383 SO
Jose Contreras 15-7, 4.64 ERA, 154 SO
Kevin Brown 14-13, 4.95 ERA, 113 SO
Jeff Weaver 12-12, 5.35 ERA, 150 SO
Carl Pavano 4-6, 4.77 ERA, 56 SO

(OK, so none of these other guys actually pitched two complete seasons for us. However, they all screwed us at least once in the playoffs...)

Two other big signings in their first two seasons in pinstripes:
Mike Mussina 35-21, 3.59 ERA, 396 SO
Roger Clemens 27-18, 4.13 ERA, 351 SO

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.