The Girl Who Played With Fire by Stieg Larsson

189 pages of boredom followed by 314 pages of page-turning excitement. What’s up with that? Stieg Larsson appears to be quite the international writing sensation for his Millenium trilogy of crime books. At some level, I don’t entirely get it. On the one hand, I love certain aspects of his books, but on the other hand, some aspects of his books leave me cold. Punk rock, lesbian, Satanist, computer hacker Lisbeth Salander and publishing bad-boy Mikael Blomqvist are back in The Girl Who Played With Fire. This time they’re trying to get to the bottom of an international prostitution ring. But I swear, almost nothing of interest happens for 189 pages. I’ll give Larsson the benefit of the doubt and suggest that over the first third of the book he has effectively laid down the groundwork for the final acts, because on page 190 things turn on a dime and get damned exciting. I really hard a hard time putting the book down. Conversely, I had a pretty hard time picking it up until that point. I imagine I’ll read the third installment, but I’ll definitely be hoping that he has finally written a book that is scintillating throughout.

Here's what I had to say about the first installment.

Childhood, The Marx Brothers & Dick Cavett

I loved the Marx Bros as a kid. I had a Duck Soup t-shirt (creamsicle orange, sporting the movie poster) and a Horse Feathers t-shirt (bright yellow, also sporting the movie poster). They were my favorite shirts. I wore them ragged. I religiously watched You Bet Your Life in syndication. I dragged my parents to whatever theaters would play their movies, and I believe I once made my dad drive me and friend through a snowstorm to a community center playing Animal Crackers. We were the only people in the audience and they played the film for us anyway. The show must go on, don’t you know. I even read a Groucho bio when I was in middle school. In all likelihood, it was the first celebrity bio I ever read.

Like many things from my childhood, it’s been ages since I’ve seen a Marx Bros. film. I showed my son Horse Feathers several years back, but he wasn’t biting. Too much language play for even a really verbal 5 year old. Several weeks back, Animal Crackers played at the Clay Theater as part of Sketchfest. The film was followed by a round table featuring Dick Cavett and Harpo’s son, Bill Marx. Cavett and Marx were fantastic, sharing 45 minutes of raunchy stories about the Marx Brothers, as well as providing some great insights into their careers. What a fun night. This time, my son, now 8, dug the proceedings. I think he really liked the absurd, strange interludes that fill the film. Harpo was his favorite--not surprising for a kid weaned on Buster Keaton. And I was laughing throughout. All the reasons why I loved these guys came flowing back. Sitting in the theater, I could see how much their brand of comedy has influenced me. And if that wasn’t enough, the soothing sound of Dick Cavett’s voice was a pleasant trip down memory lane as well.

Gimme Something Better

Just finished devouring Jack Boulware & Silke Tudor’s Gimme Something Better: The Profound, Progressive and Occasionally Pointless History of Bay Area Punk. It’s a major tome and a great read. File it right next to Please Kill Me and Our Band Could Be Your Life as another great history of a seminal rock scene. Interestingly, even though I’ve lived in the Bay Area for over 20 years, I’m not steeped in the early punk rock lore of this town (Nuns/Avengers/Crime), nor was I ever invested in the Gilman scene (Green Day/Jawbreaker/Rancid/Operation Ivy). That said, I loved how this book was put together, the stories it told, and how it approached the music scene in a comprehensive way.

What sets Gimme Something Better apart from Please Kill Me or Our Band, is that the book moves beyond just the antics and the history of the bands involved. Yes, there are whole chapters devoted to The DKs, Green Day, Rancid, and plenty others. But much like the Bay Area scene itself, Gimme Something Better, focuses on the totality of the scene and the networks of people that brought us from the Mabuhay Gardens to world domination by Green Day. Gimme Something Better shines equal amounts of light on the mags and the zines; on the bars, clubs, warehouses, and house parties; on the roadies, the promoters, and the punk houses; on the radio shows, the labels, and the poster artists; on the politics, the politics, and the politics. All take center stage. As the scene moves deep into the East Bay, the scene itself becomes it’s own entity, as important as any one band. And Gimme Something Better does a great job reflecting that spirit. The book is very cool in that way. Highly recommended.

Rockin' The Car Stereo in 2009

Not particularly enthusiastic about a best of list for 2009. I didn’t feel like I heard all that much great new stuff this year. It’s funny, because last year was stacked with great releases, or at least great songs.

My friend Andy always asks me to put together a list and I oblige, since he often gives me lots of music. So here ya go. In a vague order.

If your reading this on Facebook, be sure to check out the post in the actual blog, so you can see all the embedded video!

Dinosaur Jr.—Farm
For real. It’s 1989 all over again. This record is awesome. If it had been released right after Bug, we’d all be calling it a classic. Not really any new ground covered. Perhaps less angsty. Perhaps more fun. Regardless, the licks are sweet. Like an awesome time machine rolling you back to your younger days.



White Magic—Dark Stars
Ok, I fully realize that this record didn't come out this year. I don't think it even came out last year. So apparently I'm breaking the rules for a "Best Of" list. But frak it. It's my list and I'm gonna do what I want to. I first heard it this year and I probably listened to this e.p. more than any other record on this list, so it's staying. I caught White Magic at an early show at the Hemlock earlier this year. Maybe I was riding a Chai high from my pre-show meal at Shalimar, but I swear it was a great show. I picked up the Dark Stars e.p. Constant rotation on the iPod. Winds might be the song I listened to more than any other this year. A bit Cat Powerish, a bit Sea and Cakey, a bit Damon and Naomi, a bit trippy, a bit spooky. All good. You can sample a bit here.

Dave Rawlings Machine— A Friend of A Friend
Sick of waiting for a new Gillian Welch record? Forget it. Just pick up this one by her guitarist Dave Rawlings. Great songs. Great guitar playing. And, if you still care, Welch sings on a couple of tracks. A really great record. You know those moments on Time (The Revelator) where Rawlings appears to be channeling an acoustic version of Crazy Horse? Well, you get to hear an awesome cover of Cortez on this one.


Flaming Lips—Emrybonic
I already wrote about this one when it came out. I don’t listen to it a ton. But as a refreshing blast, you can’t lose.



Dan Auerbach—Keep It Hid
I dig the Black Keys. This solo record strips it down and channels the ragged blues in just the right way.

Wooden Shjips—Dos
Looking for a Suicide/Spacemen fix? Look no further. The stoned, cold groove is on.


Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros—Up From Below
Just came across this one. Dusty, 70’s, LA hippies. Not cloying, irritating or, pretentious. Good music for a weekend at Joshua Tree.



Girls—Album
Just picked this up last week. Not sure that it will have staying power, but I'm gonna put it on the list because I'm digging it right now. Poppy, girl-groupy, catchy. At times like The Raveonettes without the squalor. The Raveonettes unChained.




Chuck Prophet—Let Freedom Ring
Prophet goes to Mexico, records in a very old studio, doesn't die of the swine flu, and plays some rock and roll. What could be bad? I Just picked this up last week as well and it's sounding good. Love the production.





Califone—All My Friends Are Funeral Singers
Neko Case—Middle Cyclone
I like these people. Good records. Not their best. But I’ll pull these records on now and again and am glad when they crop up in the shuffle.

Time For Leaving

Here’s the music video I just finished up for No Depression style rockers McCabe & Mrs. Miller. The bulk of the video was shot in and around Joshua Tree and Yucca Valley. Each year the band plays at the Camper/Cracker Campout the first week of September. We’ve always stayed at the Yucca Valley Inn, a quaint and comfortable old school desert motel. This year, however, things were far from quaint or comfortable. The hotel was in foreclosure or bankruptcy status and we were greeted with the option of a room with no air conditioning or a room with no hot water. We opted for the air over the hot water. We had to switch rooms after finding an army of dead frogs in our bathtub. The pool was drained, caution tape was everywhere, and a generally desolate vibe was in the air. In other words, what a perfect spot for a video shoot! Especially a melancholy song about life on the road.

We hadn’t really planned on a shooting a video that weekend, and given that Alison and Victor were playing in about 6 bands between the two of them, I wasn’t sure that they would have anytime to shoot anything as a band. But since we were all going to be in the same place at the same time for two days, I brought a camera with me, just in case. While others drank beer, slept, or watched college football, I was wandering around shooting. We actually found two hours to shoot the band performing in the hotel room. Unfortunately that footage was unusable. I didn’t bring any lights and the room was just too dark and dank to look good.

When we got back to the Bay Area, we set a new shoot date for the band footage for November. Alison and I desperately started scouring the Bay Area for a hotel with a seedy, worn down interior. And let me tell you, that is no easy task in this day and age. Green shag carpeting and wood paneling are a tough order to fill. Off-white porcelain and neutral colors are the order of the day. Even in the cheap hotels. If it’s been remodeled after 1985, there’s little sense of style. Things were looking grim but on our last day of scouting we came across the perfect spot in San Mateo, California. We couldn’t have set designed it better ourselves. It had the shag. It had the wood panel. And the furniture was so flimsy we could move stuff around at will. Always a plus on a film shoot. The beds were even on wheels. An added bonus was this hotel had clearly bought its furniture from the same hotel supply store that the Yucca had bought their furniture from. It was a perfect match. Check out the opening shot of the lobby of the Yucca. Then take a look at the interior shots of the hotel with the band playing. Same carpeting. Same patterns on bedspreads and couches. What luck.

Special thanks to Chris Xefos for helping out on all the shooting in Joshua Tree and KC Smith for doing the great job lighting the hotel interiors.

In any event, I hope you enjoy the video. It’s a great song.

I wrote about their album a few months back. You can read that post here and download a couple of songs from the album there as well.

Bury Me Deep by Megan Abbott

Simply put, Megan Abbott is my new favorite writer. Her run of The Song Is You (2007), Queenpin (2007), and Bury Me Deep (2009) is nothing short of utterly impressive. Fully steeped in the crime and pulp genres of the 50s, Abbott is knocking out deliciously rewarding page-turners, channeling Cain, Chandler, and Ellroy. Her work is pulpy, sexy, and gritty. Beyond that, she’s a great writer. Sentences roll off the pen, stories unfold, pages get turned.

Bury Me Deep is the latest, and damn is it good. It starts a bit slowly, but once it gets rolling, it’s a steamroller that can’t be put down. Loosely based on the Trunk Murderess/Blond Butcher scandal of the 30s, the book follows the travails of Marion Seeley, a wayward doctor’s wife. Due to a morphine addiction he can’t shake, the doctor has lost his medical license and heads to Mexico for work, leaving his wife behind to fend for herself in a small desert community in Arizona. Alone and forsaken by her husband, Marion falls in with two party girls—a nurse she meets at the clinic where she is working, and her sidekick who continues to party while battling t.b. Marion gets caught up in the thrill of it all—the parties, the flirtations, the sultry nights, and the men. She ultimately dives deep into an illicit affair with a respected businessman, who, as it turns out, is far from respectable.

But what makes Bury Me Deep so great is that lurking beneath the standard pulp plotline is a story resonating with emotional depth. Abbott offers up a world where good people, in moments of weakness, make bad choices that lead to disastrous results. The heart of the book lies within Marion as she battles with herself. Her inner-turmoil is profound. Why does she rush headlong into an affair she knows is wrong? Is it so wrong? Why can’t she stop? Is her betrayal due to loneliness or is her betrayal a sign of who she truly is? And when everything goes wrong, how do you figure out who your true friends are? How do you handle yourself when all your friends abandon you? And when you abandon them? And most importantly, how do you make amends? How do you take responsibility for your own actions? How do you live with yourself when the way you behave doesn’t jibe with who you think you are?

In this respect, Bury Me Deep resonates beyond the pulp milieu, mining emotional depths often lacking in much of the genre. Sure, it’s a town filled with party girls with shady pasts and uncertain futures; it’s a town run by men, driven by deceit, corruption, and privilege; it’s a town with questionable sexual mores, filled with addictions and unhealthy itches; a town filled with lung disease. But in Bury Me Deep, the stories do in fact run much deeper.

UH OH! It's The Best of The Decade

Yikes! Has it already been 10 years since the Y2K scare? Mindboggling. In any event, I’m really not much of a list person and was in no way planning on doing a best of the decade list. But last night, my buddy Chris planted that seed in my brain and here we go. Let me assure you, this is by no means comprehensive or even well thought out. I’ve given it about 12 hours thought, and most of that time I was sleeping.

The 00s are a funny time frame for me when it comes to music consumption. My son was born in 2001 and that definitely changed the way I found out about and listened to music. Going to shows and discovering bands through the live experience decreased drastically. A lot of new music I heard came from friends burning me cds and sharing files. This was a big departure from the 80s and 90s, which was all about discovering music in the clubs. Also, with a newborn on hand, the amount of loud, clattery, in the red music listening dropped sharply as well. The house was a quieter, calmer place. 2001-2004 was all about the folk, country, blues trip. Old records that my young son could relate to were in heavy rotation. John Fahey, Burl Ives, Pete Seeger, Harry Smith’s Anthology of Folk Music, The Watson Family. That was the order of the day.

Not a lot of new material came my way in the early part of the decade, but looking back lots of good stuff came my way. This list features records that were in mighty heavy rotation. I’m sure I’ll kick myself tomorrow for leaving some things off this list, but I stand behind all that’s listed below.

Bevis Frond—Valedictory Songs, 2000
The mighty Frond. What would the 90s have been without you? Majestic Hendrix like leads. Fanclubbish pop sensibilities. Prog pretensions. Massive guitar freak outs. Endearing, plaintive vocals. Nick Solomon’s 90s output was unparalleled in my universe. Things cooled off in the 00s, but Valedictory Songs was as stellar as any of his great releases from the previous decade.

Neko Case—Furnace Room Lullaby, 2000
For 12 years, I’d spend my summers teaching in Valencia, CA. The burbs of LA. I’d venture into LA from time to time, but for the most part, I reveled in being holed up in my dorm room on the campus of Cal Arts, reading books, listening to music on a boom box. I’d usually spend one afternoon at the local Borders with the mission of buying one or two cds that I had heard about, but hadn’t heard. In 2000, that would have been Neko Case’s Furnace Room Lullaby. The hype surrounding Ms. Case has been thick ever since the release of this record. All subsequent records have gotten more hype and a growing fan base, but for me, this is the one. There is none better. The songs, the voice, the mood. Five star all the way. South Tacoma Way is easily in contention for song of the decade. I still remember listening to this record on the drive back to San Fran, stereo cranked, loving every second of it.

Dirty Three—Whatever You Love, You Are, 2000
No one sets a mood like The Dirty Three and this is one of their best. The tour for this was unbelievable. Who knew an instrumental band fronted by a violinist could rock so hard? As a bonus, this period Dirty Three featured Warren Ellis without facial hair. He had yet to grow that distracting mountain man beard. I don’t know why this should matter, but it just does.

New Pornographers—Mass Romantic, 2000
My wife had always championed Zumpano. I never fully got on board with them, but I was hooked when she bought this one. Strangely, she never fully got on board with the Pornographers. In any event, as the decade unfolded, I found myself more attracted to bands with a pop sensibility. The New Pornographers could be ground zero for that dalliance. I suppose any of their records could be included on this list, so I’m just going to go with the first one.

White Stripes—De Stijl, 2000,
White Stripes—White Blood Cells, 2001
Loved the debut record in 1999 and with a baby on the way in 2001, I always joked that the White Stripes were gonna be the last band I got in on the ground floor with. The back-to-back, one-two punch of these records took this band to another level. An amazing amalgamation of garage, dirty blues, and Zeppelin-like riffs.

Dirtbombs—Ultraglide in Black, 2001
Detroit Cobras—Life, Love and Leaving, 2001
What can I say? Two great covers records. R&B, soul, and rock and roll scorchers. I still listen to both of these records…a lot.

Damon & Naomi—With Ghost, 2000
Ghost—Hypnotic Underworld, 2005
Boris with Kurihara—Rainbow, 2007
I love all these bands and am a fan of most of their releases. Obviously the through line is Michio Kurihara, guitarist extraordinaire. Love that guy. Love these records. Damon and Naomi hadn’t gotten too precious yet, and throwing Ghost into the mix created a perfect compliment to their wispy, fruity, psychedelic sounds.

Hypnotic Underworld was monstrous, jazzy, Floydian, and choc-full of Eastern flourishes. It captures Ghost at their most focused and adventurous.

Boris meets Kurihara. Beautiful. Metal. Krautrock. Grooves.

Gillian Welch—Time (The Revelator), 2001
I loved this record to start with. But it soon became my son’s bedtime record for almost a year. And for that, it will always have a place in my heart. Beautiful on so many fronts.



Bardo Pond—Dilate, 2001
People laugh at me for liking this band as much as I do. But I do, so there! Dilate is my fave. I still pull it out from time to time. The slow build of Two Planes, the loping hook of Inside. Two of my fave tracks of the decade.


Mekons—OOOH!, 2002
Buying Mekons records in the 80s and 90s was a frequent occurrence. Sometime around Retreat From Memphis either I lost the thread or they did. A couple ho-hum records. A couple of records not purchased. I gave this one a try and it’s a great record. The 25th Anniversary shows around this time were also unbelievable. Long live The Mekons.

Fiery Furnaces—Gallowsbird's Bark, 2003
Plain and simple, a great, bristling rock record. Fiery, indeed! I had trouble sinking into their follow-up, Blueberry Boat. Too many twists and turns for my likes and I never really got back on the Fiery Furnace train. But Gallowsbird's Bark still sounds fresh whenever I listen to it.

Joanna Newsom—The Milk Eyed Mender, 2004
A harp. A weird voice. Yet captivating and catchy beyond belief. Revelatory, even. Remember Freak Folk? This was the best of that moment in time.

Bonnie Prince Billy & Matt Sweeney—Superwolf, 2005
Well, the Bonnie Prince keeps cranking them out. I See A Darkness is still his best of the last 11 years, but that came out in 1999, so I’m going with this one. The guitar interplay is pretty darn cool, and the songs are memorable. The weird cheesecloth, inner sleeve always made this difficult to put back in the case, so it was just as easy to leave it in the cd player and listen to it again.

Six Organs of Admittance—School Of The Flower, 2005
Comets On Fire—Avatar, 2006
Loved the School of The Flower record. At times noisy, at times spacey, at times droney, at times folksy. A great mix of the above elements from Ben Chasny. And speaking of Chasny, Avatar by the Comets sheds some of the frantic overdrive of earlier efforts for a more sprawling, dusty psych vibe, laced with some 70s muscle.

Califone—Roots and Crowns, 2006
Everything from the Red Red Meat family tree has been an instant buy in my book. Califone is a band that has hit dizzying heights on certain releases. Strangely, I almost didn’t buy this record. I liked their previous couple, but like many bands moving into their middle period, there was a sameness in sound creeping into their records that, while not bad, just failed to get the pulse racing. With Roots and Crowns, Califone may have released the album of their career. Moody and textured, filled with great songs. Dusty and forlorn, yet full of life. The cover of Psychic TVs' Orchids is unbelievable, as is the whole record.

Neil Young—Live At The Fillmore East, 2006
OK, this one is from the archive series. But it got released in 2006, so I’m counting it. Crazy Horse raging full on in 1970. Transcendent.

Grinderman, 2007
Nick Cave has had a pretty great second half of the decade as far as I’m concerned. This more stripped down rocking affair seemed to knock him out of his piano-based ballad, melodrama orbit. That wasn’t a bad place to be, mind you, but like Califone above, there was a bit of a been there, done that vibe to some of the early decade output. Grinderman and its follow up, Dig, Lazarus, Dig, showcase Cave with a refreshing, nastier edge.

Times New Viking—Present The Paisley Reich, 2007
Ah, the clatter. Ah, the caterwaul. Ah, the remote sense of song. This cd was a staple in the boombox in the summer of 2007.


Wilco—Sky Blue Sky, 2007
I always looked at Wilco somewhat skeptically. They always sounded good, but they wore their influences on their sleeves in such an obvious way. At times they sounded like the Replacements, Neil Young, Stereolab, etc… Sky Blue won me over though. Secret weapon Nels Cline finally took them to a new and unique place. Great tour as well. I crossed over into fandom.

Amy Winehouse—Back To Black, 2007
Sharon Jones & The Dap Kings—100 Days, 100 Nights, 2007
Richard Hawley—Lady’s Bridge, 2007
She & Him—Volume 1, 2008
Hey, it’s people with great pipes channeling other eras in a pretty unique, original or derivative but fun way. I say yes to all of them.