Cover Equations

Cover Version vs. Original, videos just because, all based on my personal + subjective enjoyment...

"Atmosphere" ~~~ Pink Mountaintops (a.) = Joy Division (b.)

"I Heard It Through the Grapevine" ~~~ The Slits (c.) = Smokey Robinson and the Miracles (d.)

"I'm on Fire" ~~~ Chromatics (e.) = Bruce Springsteen (f.)

"(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" ~~~ DEVO (g.) > the Rolling Stones (h.) (by a nose)

"Everybody's Got Something To Hide Except Me and My Monkey" ~~~ The Feelies (i.) >>> the Beatles (j.)

"Benny and the Jets" ~~~ Biz Markie (k.) >>>>> Elton John (l.) (and I do love the Elton John version dearly...)








Dennis Hopper, 1936-2010

Rest in Peace, you crazy old son of a bitch.

Growing Pains

I've just (finally) upgraded the template of this blog, mainly to allow for "Older Posts" and "Home" links to be enabled, so please bear with me for a bit while I work out the kinks like allowing full images to be visible.

The Red Menace

Every time I see this Sherwin Williams logo I fall in love all over again:




Lately I get rather depressed when thinking about the imminent demise of my favourite sneakers, a pair of Adidas "Rekord" shoes, seen here from a few apartments and cities ago:


I found those gorgeous things at King's Sports in Winnipeg (they occupy the old theatre where I first saw both Big and *batteries not included) during their formerly-excellent Boxing Day Sale in 2004 while on the hunt for something like the signature "Zissou" shoe from Wes Anderson's The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou (2004):


(Unfortunately, to the best of my knowledge, those shoes were never officially released by Adidas, though some took to customization of the original "ROM" style to create, and sell, their own.)

But back then, those Rekords led me down a path of firm Adidas brand allegiance before branching out into New Balance "574" appreciation and eventually letting Nike re-enter my life on account of some of their "Blazer" designs (beware - colourways for both of those types are often potentially offensive to the eye, maybe even the heart). While sneakers and I have been falling out of step in recent years, I always like to have at least a couple different options ready at standby. And while I wait for the nu-rave hangover to blow away from sneaker culture in general with the winds of change while keeping my fingers crossed for another round of Rekord-reissuing, something like this crisp colourway of AdiTennis Hi sneakers might satiate my shoe hunger:


The Weapons of Death (1982)

I don't know what you were doing last Saturday night after midnight but I was on a couch in Peterborough with Steph when we stumbled across this cinematic masterpiece. It effectively has everything you could ever want in a film, at least a midnight movie: a kidnapped girl who spends half her screen time tossed over someone's shoulder, at least three kung-fu gangs (one good, one bad, one composed of lady assassins), a horny biker gang with surprisingly good diction, a long-lost father, a quiet bald Chinese man with a sinister moustache and a bag full of weapons that doesn't get opened until the exact right moment, a hard-luck ex-con kidnapper with a heart of gold who also knows his way around a sword despite being dressed as through he stepped straight off a prison yard, lines like "I like living right on the edge. It keeps things from getting boring,"...

If you're alright with spoilers, welcome to the final fight:


Joe Strummer Hired a Contract Killer

It took me about six years (and a bit more internet savvy, and just plain remembering - I've been busy) to track down a copy of Aki Kaurismäki's I Hired A Contract Killer (1990) after being introduced to his work through a film history course that screened his also-wonderful 2002 film The Man Without A Past. I Hired... features the indomitable/always sort of awkward Jean-Pierre Léaud, star of Truffaut's semi-autobiographical "Antoine Doinel" cycle, as the (sometime) suicidal lead and should appeal to any Jim Jarmusch fans in the crowd, especially those who were delighted to find Joe Strummer pop up in Mystery Train as you're treated to little moments like this:

Oh, and you'll probably be okay waiting less than six years to track it down.

More Coveting


Barbour's Wax Cotton "Antique International" Jacket


Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Piss-Bottle Men

This song, well actually all of Mike Watt's stellar solo debut Ball-Hog or Tugboat? (1995), keeps coming up in casual conversation lately.

Not only does the album boast some impressive personnel and album art by Raymond Pettibon on its CD-rack-unfriendly case, but it also gave us this wonderful little video shot by a young Roman Coppola for an ode to father-son bonds and the joys of relieving oneself without needing to put it in park. After all, isn't that much more econo anyway?:


Searching for Jack Rebney

As angered as I am by the truth claims of most documentary films, I see absolutely no way this doc about the single best youtube video of all time about the single greatest cusser of all time can fail, unless Tony lets the god damn door slam again:


No Names, Please

Hey! Look who could do without those near-ubiquitous snap-button, annoyingly-pointy-collared, overly-long (I know it's so they stay tucked when in the the saddle) western shirts -

- and you can too!


Preachin' the Blues

It's always the right time for some Gun Club:


Speaking of coveting-

I've also been fixated on these incredible "Miltzen" frames from NYC eyewear maker MOSCOT. Might it be time to break out of my now-going-on 15 year squared-frame habits? Also crystal? Or tortoise? I know what new polluter would say...


If anyone from New Era or the Pittsburgh Pirates organization is reading this...

...I'd really love one of these hats in the mail (size 7 7/8 - we're deep-headed folk on both sides of my family tree, but I'd take that over a wide head any day). I've been coveting them for a while and haven't been a cap-wearer since early high school, but dad's favorite team and the iconic "pillbox" style make a persuasive argument. And wearing a Jays cap in Toronto is like proclaiming the Beatles your favorite band when meeting new people at a party (not as bad as wearing a Beatles shirt in your shitty band's garbage, train-tracks metaphor video though).

Daggering 101 with Skerrit Bwoy

I've been fielding a lot of questions lately (most often sent anonymously, through phantom email accounts) as to what my preferred mode of dance is. Well here's a handy instructional video from Major Lazer's pal Skerrit Bwoy:


I Wish That I Knew What I Know Now When I Was Younger

I guess I should post a SPOILER ALERT but if you haven't seen Wes Anderson's Rushmore (1998) then we're probably not friends and you're probably not reading this...

But anyway, I was just taking an internet detour while writing this paper on Anderson's close-ups and Deleuze's "affection image" and ended up reminiscing about my aunt and uncle introducing the then 17 year-old me to Anderson's work at the soon-after-defunct, basement Northstar Cinema (according to that link it was open slightly longer than I remembered but this was the last film I saw there myself) on Portage Avenue in downtown Winnipeg. I was suffering from some of that heartbreak that only nerdy 17 year-old boys can suffer from, and this film and its perfect ending proved a very good salve for both that romantic yearning and the adolescent awkwardness I was starting to shrug off some (I'm pretty sure I've managed to retain a healthy chunk of that however). Years later what started with Rushmore would provide fodder for certain types of semi-profitable academic endeavors as well, just like that one I'm currently hiding from in blogger here...


Rule No. 118

I've been enjoying 1001 Rules for my Unborn Son during procrastination breaks over the last day or two, even if Rule No. 118 stings a little bit.


Pour Man

I'm not that well-versed in Mr. Lee Hazelwood's music beyond "Cowboy in Sweden" and his Ann-Margret collaboration "The Cowboy and the Lady", but thanks to Danny McBride's Eastbound & Down, I now know this one pretty well too: