Pop Culture Blog: Music, Movie and Humor
Leveraging low-hanging synergies outside the vertical fruit box since 1999.
Jeepers, I almost forgot – a special little someone has a special little birthday today. It’s been a fun beer, humor and indie rock fueled 17 year ride, Mike – and I’m glad the Swedes haven’t lynched you yet (although they’ve certainly come close a time or two).
An eerie picture of the both of us up at the lake this past Friday night may set the stage for the next couple of decades: Out-of-doors, mind a million miles from work, cold and double-fisting. Have a good one, pal-o-mine.
On “Bobcaygeon,” the highlight of this album and possibly the Hip’s best song ever, Downie’s enigmatic lyrics paint a picture that accumulates detail with every listen. – Amazon
You can never predict what will inspire my choice for the Wadio from one week to the next – this time around, it was as simple as a fireside conversation with an old friend about his dock sales route. “Last week I went up through Napanee, stopped in Belleville, made a run down towards Trenton and then right back up to Bobcaygeon“. I smiled and looked over at Moynihan, as I knew exactly what he was thinking – That’s the town they mention in that Hip song!
The Tragically Hip’s lineup has remained absolutely unchanged since 1983 when they started slugging away on the Ontario club circuit – and they’ve grown over the past 22 years to become the undisputed and revered godfathers of Canadian rock. My history with the Hip has been love/hate (read about it here). I have seen them live four times and their lead singer, Gord Downie, solo twice. I have grown slowly to love this band over two decades, and like Marmite – most people either love them or hate them.
Bobcaygeon is one of their more readily digestible dittys, and was once described by Downie as a “cop love song”. The song weaves the tale of a man who hates his job and spends every waking hour longing to return to the arms of his significant other, and opens with two of my favorite lines ever: I left your house this morning about a quarter after nine / coulda been the Willie Nelson, coulda been the wine. Ah yes, Lovemaking – country-style. I wonder which one of them was holding the fly-swatter.
In the video, Gord is a Toronto horseback cop (not to be confused with RCMP), and his girlfriend is Native American. But the actual lyrics never get this specific, which is why I hate literal interpretations and music vids in general: Drove back to town this morning with working on my mind / I thought of maybe quitting / thought of leaving it behind / went back to bed this morning / and as I’m pulling down the blind / the sky was dull and hypothetical / and falling one cloud at a time.
Sounds like someone needs to pay a hasty visit to Monster.com. As the song progresses, the protagonist is involved in breaking up what sounds like a white power rally (which is probably why the woman is portrayed as ethnic in the video): In the middle of that riot / couldn’t get you off my mind. He then returns home to the rural paradise that is Bobcaygeon, Ontario and resumes brooding/liquoring.
I love this song. The lyrics are simple – yet deep and engaging. The acoustic guitar is rustic and scratchy and the bassline dances around like a crazy person. As it slowly builds momentum towards the creshendo of the incident in Toronto, you learn volumes about this man and the remorse he has for his lot in life. Afterall, behind every suicidal cop, there’s an indigenous woman.
Favorite Concord son, Goody, is spearheading an environmentally-friendly festival next month aimed at raising a little awareness – and a lot more money – so I wanted to give him a shout out. He’s been pouring his heart and soul into this for months now and, if I’m not getting my next wedding dates mixed up, I will be headed up with some other C-town legends to show some support – Wells, Maclean and Bryant are also involved. I’ll be twirling around with devil sticks whilst snacking on free-range chicken and organic goat cheese. I’ll be slathering my filthy, unkempt armpits with patchouli and clearing chambers on a 10 foot binger. I’ll be… passing the mic to Mike now:
The Legend of Don Dicisco is a one day art/music/ecology/energy/food festival that aims to illustrate the importance of contiguous habitat and contiguous thought. The event will raise money for a farm conservation project of the Vermont Land Trust and Audubon Vermont’s Environmental Education Program. The Legend includes a dozen artists exhibiting their work, six bands, a team of ecologists delivering talks/walks/demonstrations, working alternative energy displays and a celebratory feast comprised of foods from local farms. The Legend will take place Saturday September 17th at the Green Mountain Audubon Center in Huntington. Notable participants include Bernd Heinrich, Susan Morse, Robert Spear, VINS, NECI, Sunweaver, Chelsie Bush, Michael Rothschild, Abigail Pratt, Seth Jarvis, Gordon Stone, Paul Asbell, Jon Fishman.
Tickets are available through the Flynn Regional Box Office and may be purchased at http://www.flynntix.org or by calling 1-802-86-FLYNN.
For a full description of the event please visit: http://www.legend2005.org or contact Legend director Michael Goodwin at michael@legend2005.org or (802)234-9415.
Saturday night, while up in Canada, our crew drove to Smiths Falls to an old family friend’s house. Wentworth has lived in the same digs on the Poonamalie Lockstation for as long as I have been alive. We used to keep our boat, the PyeSeas docked nearby, and I spent a good portion of my childhood annoying people in the general vicinity. I’ll mention this evening in greater detail when I get around to processing all the accompanying photos. For now – let’s just say you haven’t lived until you’ve heard 3 hours of Newfie jokes told by the drunken Newfies themselves.
“Did you hear about the Newfie 2-seater airplane that crashed near a cemetery? They’ve recovered 136 bodies and they’re still counting.”
The Rideau Canal System, was built by the British from 1824 – 1832: Back then, the Rideau was a wilderness of lakes, rivers and swamps. In the middle of this wilderness, with many men dying from malaria, an engineering marvel was created. Over 1,000 workers, the vast majority of whom were Irish or French-Canadian, died during construction. Considering the era and technology available, building the canal makes the Big Dig look like a half-assed sandcastle.
There are 23 locks on the system, and I’ve been through every last one of them. I carry many great summer memories of the community that surrounds boating up and down the waterway. As a child I was often bored – it can take hours to get through one station – but overall they were great times. I have to get crackin’ on the long day ahead, but if you’re interested read some more of the truly amazing history here.
Janet and I are headed up to Portland again tonight to see the parents – this time with Mike and Joanna in tow. JJV may even make an appearance. If someone asked me if I was sick of all the traveling I have had to do this summer, I wouldn’t give them some predictable, sarcastic answer. Not at all. Rather, I’d simply snatch up a blunt soup spoon and detatch one of their ears for them. Talk amongst yourselves. I’ll give you some outdoorsy topics as I’m looking forward to the woods:
1. Have you ever been camping? If yes, do you go often? If not, why not?
2. Are you an outdoorsy person, or would you rather stay inside the comfort of your house? Why?
3. Which do you prefer, hot weather or cold weather? Why/why not? How do you cope with each?
The 3rd redesign just got sent back to us – and I love it. Ladies and Hooligans, Chris and I are proud to present – GoonBlog. Be sure to refresh the page a few times to see how the design cycles slightly, and we welcome your comments. There are still some layout/content shifts to work out (Hockey news RSS feed, calendar, etc.) but this is 95% of the finished product. Thanks to Mike from EWebscapes for putting up with our pickiness. Tell a friend.
“But two o’clock has come again, It’s time to leave this paradise. Hope the chip shop isn’t closed, Cos’ their pies are really nice. I’ll eat in the taxi queue, Standing in someone else’s spew. Wish I had lipstick on my shirt, Instead of piss stains on my shoes.” – FNSM, The Specials.
Friday Night, Saturday Morning was a hit for The Specials way, way back in 1981 – And it’s a ska-based, horn-heavy, seizure inducing masterpiece. It was one of the B-Sides to their hit “Ghost Town” (heard most recently in the movie “Snatch”), but it took on a life of it’s own and eventually grew almost as popular as the song it was supplementing. It’s a great snapshot of the life of a young English pisshead, and I’d bet several pints on it being a favorite of Mike Skinner’s.
The irony in this song is that while the lyricist lives a highly social weekend, he spends quite a bit of time on the edge of the dance floor and still feels lonely when the night is over.
My sister played Nouvelle Vague’s version of the song the last time we drove up to Canada and I fell in love immediately. NV is a French band who’s claim to fame is not their own material – but rather covers of famous alt/indie rock favorites from the 80s. You can listen to more examples of their interpretations of hits by The Cure, The Clash and Joy Division here.
Their idea was to forget the initial punk or new wave background of each song, keep simple fundamental chords, work with young singers who never heard the orginal versions and make the quality of original songwriting happen in a completely different way. (bossa nova, jazz style and sixties pop).
I wouldn’t count on this band being around 2 years from now, but it’s a very cool idea and the project was well-executed. I love this record, and it’s a definite must for any eightiesaphile. Providing you then make a point of tracking down all the originals, Duckie.
I’ll get to posting photos and deep thoughts on Triconi’s wedding eventually – on that note, please send me photos of the actual Saturday service if you were there as my camera malfunctioned for exactly 24 hours for some very strange reason and I missed out. To keep your gallery appetite whetted in the meantime, I proudly present a selection of ridiculous pics from Chris’ bachelor party in Newport three weekends ago.
Eighteen holes of golf, a fifteen man party-bus, a thousand dollar-a-night Mohegan Sun suite. Well done to brother Matt, the organizer, and here’s hoping everyone forgets my Ketel One induced towel-clad antics by the time the wedding rolls around next month. Enjoy.
We were cruising at about 35,000 feet last night when I started to notice that the Russian guy sitting two rows in front of me was just a little ‘off’. It wasn’t a gut feeling, or an inkling or a hunch. Rather – it was the fact that he got up, walked into the stewardess’s galley and came out with two meals which he then proceeded to wolf down while the takeoff seatbelt sign was still on.
The stewardesses, hostesses, whatever you’re supposed to call them nowadays – were towards the front of the cabin, but soon enough one of them walked back and caught Vladimir chowing down. And on a special, pre-ordered kosher meal no less. She looked at me incredulously and asked hypothetically “What the hell does he think he’s doing?” To which an older man seated directly across the aisle from me answered “You need to get security watching that guy”. Jason then threw in his $0.02 – very loud and in no uncertain terms, “I wanna knock that friggin’ idiot out”. I liked his idea better. It’s a scary world, and when you’re airborne airborne head-shaking and tut-tuting at the idiosynchracies of others should always be foregone in favor of one .45 caliber round behind the ear from an Air Marshall’s glock.
I was supposed to get to my Boston office around 9 a.m. this morning. We had an overnight, red-eye flight from Vancouver to Toronto, and then an immediate connecting flight through to Boston. It was too perfect. In reality, we never stood a ghost of a chance of making the connection, and as 10 other Beantown hopefuls chirped at a gallery of Air Canada employees Jason and I choked back the bitter and got boarding passes for Pittsburgh.
From Pittsburgh we managed to eventually get to Boston a good 7 hours later. Due to a storm Saturday night, air traffic was backed up and we waited an hour on the tarmac and then another hour in a holding pattern before we finally got home. 20 hours, four airports, a rental car and a taxi later – I was unlocking my apartment door and being scolded by a cat. And it was heavenly. I do not want to see the inside of an airplane again for a very, very long time. Unless, of course, it’s one of these.
We’re four hours into the flight to Vancouver, and Tim Burton’s Batman is better than I remember it. The first movie shown was Kicking and Screaming, but now Air Canada has gotten all retro on us. Jason and I enjoyed a lovely airline pancake breakfast and now he’s reading The Perfect Storm while I struggle to keep from going truly batty in my cramped little aisle.
As we were waiting to board the plane at 7am, we ran into Jeff B. who’s also going to the wedding and is sitting two rows behind us as I type. When we land, we’re going to sync up somewhere in Vancouver proper and I imagine they’ll end up in one of the city’s new Amsterdammy cafes while I skulk around for a suit. Then – it’s on to Whistler. We have to be at the hotel for a champagne reception by 8.
I think that somewhere in the middle of this very hectic, very short and phenomenally expensive (tack the new suit onto the already hefty tab) weekend – a really great time might emerge. So I press on in hope.
Jason and I are packing up and getting ready to ship out to Dougie’s wedding at 5am tomorrow morning. I stopped by the dry cleaner’s on the way home to get my suit – only to find out that this afternoon’s North End explosions had rendered it evacuated. So either I’ll be buying a suit out in Whistler, or attending the nuptuals in my Big Country T-shirt. And you all know how much I’d like that.
I will likely check in and do some Kerouac-esque road-blogging from British Colombia, but until then I’ll leave you with a fun meme. Don’t hurt yourselves:
Name three people (famous or personal friends) and the custom ringtones you’ve either set for them on your phone, or would if you could.
You’ve all heard me mention GoonBlog several times over the last three months. It’s actually been live for a few weeks now, and Chris and I have been hard at work in our rare spare time finding our voice and putting some content together while the graphic design takes place in the background. I have a lot of faith in this project for a variety of reasons, so I decided to pony up some duckets for a professional design.
We didn’t want to ‘roll it out’ until it was 100% done – but I’ve just gotten the first mockup back from the graphic designer and I want some feedback before I give him another round of changes to make. Click here to go to the designer’s site, and then select GoonBlog from the dropdown menu on the right.
I almost really like it. The gloves as a background image in each post, the Stanley Cups beside the titles, the center ice design at the top – but I’m not ‘wowed yet’ and I desperately want to be. The designer is obviously talented, and followed my exploratory round of suggestions to the letter, but it needs a ‘little something’. Here are a few of my ideas, and I look forward to hearing some of yours, dear reader.
– Cartoon players are duking it out rather than checking.
– Post cell is shaded with a light grey instead of surrounded by a thin border.
– Less real estate used at the top of the screen for the graphics.
– “GoonBlog” is more condensed and both words are on the same line. Saves space and will allow us to repurpose it as a logo.
– Yank the crossed hockey sticks.
Those are some of my first impressions. Detroit and I look forward to some of yours. We didn’t want to ‘drop the curtain’ before we officially ‘dropped the gloves’, but we have – so rip into it and slug us with some feedback. And be sure to have a look at the current version of the site so you can get the big picture/bored to frozen tears.
‘Hearing Voices‘ ties with ‘Another Day’ for 1st place as my favorite Galaxie 500 songs of all time. Growing up just outside of Boston while this band was in its heyday in the late eighties, many of my close friends were into them and it was only a matter of time before I too blasted off. Like most Galaxie songs, a three year old with a head wound could learn how to play it in less time than it would take to a gnat to belch – but the melodic bass line and plodding guitar grab you in the first seconds and don’t let go. This is definitely the sort of hypnotic tune you could swerve off the highway at night to. But that doesn’t appear anywhere in the liner notes.
“I hear a jukebox, French fries and beer, And people are talkin somewhere…” Either the protagonist of this song lives above a bar, or he’s off his meds – take your pick. And he’s got superhero hearing if he’s picking up the french fries and the beer. If this song contains any hidden meaning, then my powers of explication honed during 4 years of an English B.A. are completely baffled. But I love it and it’s a good introduction to an extremely influential trio – see what you think by clicking on the radio to your left.
Jeff M. Writes: (He’s not versed in the comments yet, apparently…)
Hey Dave,
I saw your Galaxie 500 post and I thought I would brag and tell you that I have Naomi’s Bass amp that she used on all their records and tours. It has Galaxie 500 painted all over the road case and even has a handwrittten letter to her from the guy at Trace Elliot Amps with instructions on how to convert the voltage to 220 for their upcoming UK tour. I saw them open for Big Dipper at TT’s in 1988 and recorded the BD set, but not the G-500 set. Oh well…
Bastard. Please will that signed Pixies poster to Mike, who will subsequently will it to me, at which point I will subsequently have you both snuffed.
