It has begun! Today is the 1st day of the Мишка store special Halloween edition sale. We’re slashing 31% off of all Мишка hats, caps, beanies, New Era’s, tees, flannels, jackets, hoodies, sweaters, ALL apparel! You name it and it’s on sale. And don’t forget that with every purchase of $100 or more you get a free 3-pack of Мишка socks to keep your toesies warm in the winter. But this is only happening in-store at 350 Broadway, Friday October 30th through November 1st.

Мишка
350 Broadway
Brooklyn, NY

J/M/Z to Marcy Ave.
G to Broadway
L to Lorimer

Every neighborhood has these people in them. They’re like shadows, ghosts… we all know about them, but no one knows who they really are. A few months back Russel Fong shed some light on a character that everyone in Williamsburg is familiar with, but knew very little about. Laurence LaDouceur isn’t the only neighborhood character that I’m certain everyone recognizes, but knows little about. Anthony Delia is another one of the mysterious local celebrities whose known for his joy rides around Williamsburg singing at the top of his lungs to the Oldies station. Granted, Anthony isn’t quite the character study Laurence LaDouceur was/is, he’s still someone I’m sure anyone who’s ever lived or visited Williamsburg regularly has wondered “What is this guy’s deal?” to themselves at least once as he drove past you singing “Big Girls Don’t Cry”.

I hope Russel does the Bedford Ave. “performance artist” who dresses in nothing but underwear and rabbit ears soon… Or perhaps the Greenpoint Snugglebums will get that next spotlight?

Weezer – Raditude (2009) [Geffen] // Grade: F-

I want to start this review off by getting straight to the point. Weezer’s Raditude gets two middle fingers down. Each track is worse than the previous and while that shouldn’t be a huge surprise considering the band hasn’t made a solid release since 2001′s The Green Album, Raditude is on another level, an absolutely terrible album that has left me disgusted and tarnished my fond memories of Weezer’s golden years.

This piece of dogshit honestly makes me uncomfortable to listen to. The songs are an awful mix of MTV afterschool pop punk centered on themes that would have felt juvenile when I was a teenager. Rivers Cuomo turns 40 next year so why he’s writing lyrics about malls, the girl that got away (in junior high), and dropping Patron references is unfathomable. Raditude is Cuomo’s midlife crisis—awkward, uncomfortable to be around and an embarrassment.

“I’m Your Daddy” amps up the creep factor with lyrics that are exactly what you’d expect from the title and light electro beat under the guitar that makes for the statutory rape anthem of the year. “Tripping Down The Freeway” has a catchy chorus that at times seems like a passable track reminiscent of Pinkerton-era Weezer, but following it up with “Love is the Answer”, a piss-poor attempt at riding the coattails of the Slumdog Millionaire soundtrack’s success, negates any potential of a saving grace.

As much as I don’t even want to tell you all about this song’s existence, I can’t end this review without a mention of the album’s biggest WTF moment, “Can’t Stop Partying”, a track I assume is the band’s attempt at being clever and mocking the current music scene. Lil’ Wayne lends a cameo over a club beat that hints at autotune as Cuomo painfully grasps at relevance amid name drops of “jewels”, “Patron” and “the Goose”. It reminds me of 3OH!3 and joke or not, it’s probably the worst song I’ve heard in 2009.

“Undone” turned 15 this year and for one of the greatest songs of the 90′s birthday, the band celebrated with Raditude, an album that, if it’s indicative of things to come, I hope ends their career before any further damage is done to my eardrums and memories. Happy Birthday, “Undone”!

Ash – True Love 1980

Sebadoh – Rebound

The Ramones – Howling at the Moon (Sha-La-La)

Danzig – Am I Demon?

Girls – Lust For Life (NSFW Version)

“Terrorists just took over their school. Now years of bad behavior are about to pay off.”

Written and directed by Daniel Petrie Jr. (Beverly Hills Cop I, ,II, III), Toy Soldiers is a classic of early ’90s action and one of the first R rated movies I ever saw. The movie is a terrific blend of teen rebellion, pulp villains, and bazookas, which manages to be more intelligent than cheesy. What’s supposed to be funny is funny and scenes of suspense are genuinely suspenseful. There’s also a ton of sleeveless apparel. A lot of shit I get nostalgic over is close ot my heart just because it hovers on the fringe of my consciousness, and while most media I revisit turns out to be nothing but a disappointment, Toy Soldiers has just gotten better.

The movies stars Sean Austin (Billy) as the pseudo-leader of a gang of misfits at the Regis Prep School for Boys (AKA “Rejects” School). The school is taken over by Colombian terrorists, led by Luis Cali (Andrew Divoff). Cali takes over the school and demands the release of his father, a drug lord being held in American custody. But instead of sitting back and waiting for it all to play out, Billy and his gang decide to fight back. The movie also features the Jersey mafia, CIA rogue agents, and amazing ’90s production design on display in the dorm rooms (see: Guns n Roses skate deck).

The young cast is great, and includes Wil Wheaton (Strak Trek: The Next Generation) and Keith Coogan (Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead). Regis’ faculty include Louis Gossett Jr. (The Lazarus Files) as the dean and Denholm Elliott (Brody from Indiana Jones) as the headmaster. The elaborate plan the gang schemes up to aid the FBI is ridiculous, and includes a soccer ball, a remote-control airplane, and a staged asthma attack. Whatever works.

Toy Soldiers is available now on Netflix Watch Instantly, so you should watch it instantly. Highly recommended if you like shit like Red Dawn or Under Siege or kick-ass movies in general.

I’ve always been a (somewhat confused, but avid nonetheless) fan of Saul Williams. My first exposure to him was a fabulous song that I heard on the Ninjatune (remember them?) ten-year box set (Xen Cuts, 2000) called “Twice The First Time,” the introductory lyrics proceeding thusly:

“I will never rhyme over tracks
Niggas on the chain gang used to do that.
(Hooah!)
Waaaaaaay back.”

Almost immediately on the heels of hearing (and loving) that song, I caught him appearing on DJ Krust’s Drum & Bass swan song “Coded Language” in which he absolutely decimated the title track. And said ‘In which’ alot, incidentally. I blogged about that song when I first got here…it is…something.

So then, 8 or 9 years go by, and Mr. Williams begins a particularly unfamous (but quite spectacular) collaboration with one of my heroes, Trent Reznor. The album they created together is hyper-real, both good and bad, intense and accessible. If you haven’t heard it, you should check it out, mostly because it sounds like Public Enemy as rapped by Allen Ginsburg produced by, well, Trent Reznor.

But this is a book recommendation. I knew that Saul Williams was a poet first and a rapper/performer/singer second, but I had never checked out his writing until a few weeks ago. I noticed , said the shotgun to the head. sitting on the bookshelf and, despite it’s being published by MTV books, gave it a spin. I was not disappointed.

The book posits a rather grand thesis: one that involves a kiss that changes the way the narrator sees things…a kiss that changes the world. I won’t spoil it for you, but don’t get caught up in the theme…I think it’s just there to be there. What you really get is a pretty naked exposure to some classic, stream-of-consciousness Saul Williams.

Where he’s at his best is when you can hear his verbal delivery in the text. There are segments of this book (technically, it’s a book-length poem…a very quick read) that are so loaded with ideas that they’re a bit hard to get through, but there are many other pages that are clear, concise, and deadly. His economy is brutal, as is his slant rhyme and meter. One page in particular stands out…

6000 feet above sea level / 3300 bodies disassembled / the head bone’s connected to the cock pit / knee jerk ass backwards  / dancing slaves in a mosh pit

punk rock of gibraltar roll out nothing’s new / mo’ blood dyes the mo hawk only this time it’s you / and you never loved her for what she possessed  / you powdered her face and came on her head-dress

I’ve included an image of that particular page, just in case.

Which of course brings up the other aspect of this book/poem: Williams finds a pretty effective way to make up for his lack of beats, inflection. With a little prompting from the likes of Updike and Cummings, he employs a rather small set of typographical tricks (different sizes, alignment, line breaks) to make his points where he needs to. Er, wants to.

These are no iambic pentameter epic sonnets. The ‘poetry’ is very beat. Very O’Hara. With maybe just a dash of cranky TS Eliot, but I’m not sure. (Edit: OK, enough with the name dropping, I know, but imagine the lovechild of TS Eliot and Zack de la Rocha. That’s getting there. In some ways.)

All in all, you may hate poetry. You may hate Saul Williams. Either way, this is what poetry has become in many aspects of literature. Gone is the pure beat…it has been replaced with Beats. The fact that Saul Williams has made a place for himself—not just in hip-hop but in ‘music’, as well as ‘real’ literary circles—is pretty amazing when you consider just how inflammatory and provocative his medium can be.

Embrace of Thorns – Atonement Ritual (2009) [Nuclear War Now!] // Grade: A

Having grown up in a household that went to church almost every Sunday I can honestly say that this album would make my mom faint if she read the lyrics. Holy shit. Embrace of Thorns’ new release Atonement Ritual is the follow up to their successful first full-length, …For I See Death In Their Eyes…. Prior to that, they produced a series of obscure demos and splits which at the time of their last release, were hard to come by. This probably has something to do with the blood-soaked grass roots Embrace of Thorns seems to embody. They’re not the type of band that will litter the hipster metal blogs with their own promotional comments, they don’t tour with washed-up black metal acts and they sure as fuck don’t care about anything else than destroying the Judeo-Christian beliefs.

The title track, Atonement Ritual is a raised fist battle cry. Here’s where Nuctemeron Bestial Ravisher of the Divine Harmony, Herald Of Demonic Pestilence and Archfiend DevilPig’s vocal melee begins. With three members to the band, each has their share to say; just all at once. The vocals overlap and echo through the cloud of particles that reverberate from the onslaught of drums and riffage. Tombs Of The Desecrated Zealots continues with a corpse-splitting growl and classic black metal riffs.

After Impure Orgasm (Intro) and Nemesis Of Impurity, the album marches along with Death Yells In Triumph, a nicely paced sternum splitting anthem and while most of the album is a brute-force attack from the onset, Embrace of Thorns does a good job of slowing it down to a demented pace just before building it back up to attack mode without being melodic or soothing. This album plays like a claustrophobic blood ritual.

It’s easy to dress this review with more metaphors, but one thing is for sure, these guys mean business. They aren’t out for your wallets, or internet-fame, they’re just out to spew their anti-Judeo-Christian doctrine and recruit more soldiers in their war. Maybe fuel an blood orgy or two along the way. It’s not for everyone to enjoy and I think that’s the point. You’ll probably hate it, but it’s a great album floating in a sea of banal and melodic black metal.

Japanese cult classic Hausu (Japanese for House) gets a big screen showing this Saturday, Oct 31st at BAM for one day only! Nobuhiko Obayashi 1977 film has been described as Beetlejuice as if directed by Dario Argento. I’ve been dying to see this for a little while now, as it’s not easily available in the states. Check the clip above, the whole movie seems like an absolute obsolete special FX insanity. Check the trailer above and abstract and clip below. Mind = Blown!

Like a Japanese Evil Dead on acid, this surreal, kaleidoscopic trip of a film features swirling, psychedelic visuals, a murderous lampshade, and one truly freaky cat. Seven teenage girls are summoned to an old woman’s possessed mansion where one by one each is murdered by the house in a series of eye-poppingly gruesome set pieces. Alternately satirical and disturbing, this crazed, confounding film takes horror-comedy to a new level.

House is screening at 2pm, 4:30pm, 6:50pm & 9:15pm. Be there and be stoned, this will be  a perfect precursor to your All Hallows Eve plans later in the evening!

Saturday, Oct. 31st
BAM Cinema
30 Lafayette Avenue
Brooklyn, NY

Julian Casablancas – Phrazes For the Young (2009) [RCA] // Grade: B-

Sugary, summery and over before you know it: some things about Julian Casablancas will never change. There’s plenty of what you’d expect on this solo debut, from the singer’s signature croon to heaps of nearly perfect—and instantly earwiggy—hooks. But go in hoping for a lot of Strokesian guitar jangle, and you’ll be seriously disappointed; Phrazes is, above all, a synth-pop album. Sure, the melody and swagger of it suggest the Strokes by simple virtue of Casablancas writing the thing—but everything surrounding those base elements is a hazy, euphoric (and sometimes slightly bubblegum) electro-fuzz that feels as much like Buggles as it does anything Casablancas has done before.

Thank the producers for that. Seriously. That the album’s glittery sheen rarely clashes with Casablancas’ proclivity for voice and melody is just as much a testament to Jason Lader and Bright Eyes/Monsters of Folk mainstay Mike Mogis; one only has to look to Chris Cornell/Timbaland solo nightmare to see what happens when production and intent don’t jibe. Tracks like “Left & Right In The Dark”, with its Flock Of Seagulls guitar fades, and the stuttering breaks of “11th Dimension” may feel like roller-rink jams, but combined with Casablancas’ tinny whine (and lyrics like “your faith has got to be greater than your fear”) they assume something impossibly dark…and just a little heartbreaking. Even better is the slightly sideways “Ludlow Street” with its off-key banjo and off-time drum machine—a real boozy saloon jam with an opening overture so gorgeously ominous, it might be the best 15 seconds of the album. But then there’s the train-whistle guitars of “4 Chords Of The Apocalypse”. Or the down and dirty swagger of “Tourist”. Good ideas? Phrazes has them.

And that, ultimately, is its biggest downfall. Though every track features at least one really perfect moment, the layers upon layers of iconic hooks, harmonies, solos and always-at-11 vocals eventually melt into a hazy blob that screams JULIAN CASABLANCAS! just a little too loudly. Had each song highlighted its best three—hell, even five—ideas, Phrazes could’ve been the most remarkably catchy album of the year. As it stands, it’s pretty good—but too much of a good thing is still too much of a thing.

Masta Ace & EDO. G – Ei8ht Is Enough

BET Cipher 09′ – Mos Def, Black Thought, Eminem

BET Cipher 08′ – Hurricane Chris, K’Naan, Bun B (with the Mishka Spetznaz on), Q-Tip…and a grip of others…

BET Cipher 07′ – Ras Kass, Joel Ortiz, Flo, Cassidy

BET Cipher 06′ – Styles P, Papoose & Lupe Fiasco

Extended family member Jordy Noakerton suggested I drop these BET Cipher vids and since I only had the Masta Ace and ED O.G joint lined up they seemed more than appropriate.