Dennis Hopper RIP

As reported here, as well as about a million other places, on Oct. 30th of last year, Dennis Hopper was diagnosed with prostate cancer. Well, he didn't make it. He died this morning of the disease.

I loved and love Hoppers's "New Hollywood" counter culture movies of the late 60's and early 70's and have rarely seen him be anything short of brilliant in any role he played. He and I diverged politically in a pretty serious way when he went Republican, but when he publicly renounced Sarah Palin I think he regained quite a bit of cred with unrepentant radical left wingers like myself.

Regardless, farewell to one of the greatest actors of his generation.

The Service Industry - Calm Down (Sauspop 2010)

For their fourth release, Austin's The Service Industry leave behind the simmering rage of the overlooked and underappreciated and move in a more personal direction. The band's success in achieving this so gracefully should dispel any misperceptions that this is a gimmick band. The Service Industry deliver 12 nearly flawless pop cuts that range from the jangly to garagey, low key to the energetic.

Opener "Heart Repair" is a chunky piece of melancholia that expands into a soaring melodic chorus and kicks the feel of the record off in the right direction. Remaining true to the record's vibe but exemplifying its range of styles and influences, Julie Lowery takes lead vocal from Mike McCoy on the Reivers meets The B-52s college rock of "Honey and Hair Sprayed Hair". There's so much going on here stylistically that it took real artistry to avoid disjointedness and have everything fall together so well.

Complaints? Minor to insignificant. For example, "This Town Makes My Skin Crawl" draws out a little bit too long. But it's still a damn good song.

As prolific as these folks are (what is this? The fourth release in two years?) it won't be too long before we see which way The Service Industry jumps next. So far it continues to be up.

3.75 out of 4 heart repairs

Malcolm McLaren RIP

Situationist. Manager of The New York Dolls. Manager of The Sex Pistols. Manager of Bow Wow Wow (no, really). Father of Punk Fashion (that really should go to wife Vivienne Westwood, but McLaren never declined taking credit). Solo recording artist. Depending on who you're talking to - one of the greatest marketing geniuses of the late 20th century or one of the biggest shysters. Or both. Whatever, the motherfucker sure left a mighty gash in the side of pop culture using pop culture as the knife. Wasn't that what The Situationists were all about?

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club / Band of Skulls - House of Blues - Houston, TX 3/20/2010

There's something about watching British white guys peel off American blues guitar licks that just bugs the shit out of me. No matter how many effects pedals the instrument is run through. Which is pretty much all Band of Skulls is. A guy wanking on guitar interspersed with repetitive, practically chanted lyrical refrains. There were a couple of songs that sounded like they might have had actual verses, but they were in short supply. The bassist was pretty easy on the eyes, and I found it endearing that she had to look at the neck of her bass to play the structures, but beyond that they didn't have much going on. Not unlistenable, just ultimately boring.

BRMC, on the other hand, left almost nothing to be desired. They could have easily held down the night with their repertoire of window rattling, reverb heavy guitar gut punches, but chose instead to mix things up, alternating those energetic post-punk pounders with mellower, quieter fare featuring acoustic guitar, keyboard, and, on one occasion, piano, largely drawn from their Howl era. Primarily, though, they stuck with their LOUD post-punk pop mixing in elements of blues, americana and pschedelia to go with the driving bass, pounding drums and overdriven guitar.

Bassist Robert Levon Been and guitarist Peter Hayes traded and overlapped vocals, with Hayes maintaining a laid back, in control stage presence while Been struck rock star poses and strutted the stage in full on performance mode. Stealing the show, though, was new drummer Leah Shapiro, who beat on her drum kit like she had caught it fucking her siggo. I've rarely seen a drummer hit that hard and use the drums that stylistically while still being completely dialed in to what the band was accomplishing as a unit.

Accompanying the dizzying array of musical styles and energy fluctuations was a stage show consisting of flashing strobes and rotating mini-flood lights backlighting the band and, thus, illuminating the audience. I would estimate fairly half the show the lighting wasn't even focused on the band. In the context of the musical environment they were creating, it was simply amazing. It also served to dissolve the barrier between band and audience, giving you the sensation that you were as much a part of making this thing worthwhile and, indeed, spectacularly successful.

I didn't have any doubts about this show being good. I didn't expect it to kick my ass half way to Heaven. I've said it so often it's become an annoying mantra - this is the best band in America. March 20th at the Houston House of Blues did nothing if not cement that opinion in my mind for some time to come.

RIP Alex Chilton

Rock luminary and one of the inspirations for every cool band you know of Alex Chilton died of a heart attack today at the age of 59. He was a complete dick to the audience when I saw him in 1994, but I hear he's been a lot more accommodating with the Big Star reunions, unfortunately none of which I got to see.

Anyway, if you know his name you probably know at least as much as I do. The guy was a brilliant songwriter when he wanted to be and a legend in his own time. Goddamn shame to see him go.

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club - Beat The Devil's Tattoo (Vagrant Records 2010)

Man, this thing comes rolling over you like a band of Sioux warriors from the get go. The title track and follow up "Conscience Killer" just knock you off your feet. Track 3, "Bad Blood", (my personal favorite) lets up a little with some rock driven psychedelia followed by a slinky, bluesy, fuzzed out "War Machine". After that is a blend of reverb drenched acoustic tracks, blasting rock 'n' roll with swirling psychedelic dynamics, and ear-drum pounding blues rock as unstoppable as a Sherman Tank. You're finally set free with a mellow, psychedelic "Half State" to slow your heart back down to a steady, healthy pulse.

I don't think it's any secret that I think Black Rebel Motorcycle Club is the best band in America and, man, this record did nothing to disavow me of that notion. Most impressive is the fact they've successfully integrated all the aspects of their song styling on one record. You've got the blues driven rock of their eponymous debut and Take Them On, On Your Own, the mellower, more acoustic sounds of Howl, and the reverb drenched pulverizing post punk rock with its psychedelic turns of Baby 81 woven in and out of one another.

Beat The Devil's Tattoo is the most satisfying listen I've had in a long time. I had some concerns that there was no way they could top Baby 81 but, brothers and sisters, I was dead wrong. These guys just keep getting better. Long may they reign.

5 out of 4 Devil's Tattoos

Giant Drag - Swan Song (Roar Scratch 2010)

The brainchild of singer/guitarist/songwriter Annie Hardy and drummer/synth bassist Micah Calabrese, Giant Drag made a minor splash on the indie scene back in 2006 with Hearts and Unicorns (Interscope 2006) based primarily on their, granted, stupendous cover of Chris Isaac's "Wicked Game". That the single from the record, "This Isn't It", was pretty damn catchy and ingeniously clever lyrically didn't hurt it's standing as a fine little record.

What did was the endless, and to my mind fair, comparisons to Last Splash era Breeders, something which apparently threw Annie Hardy into Courtney Love-esque spasms of rage. Unfortunately, The Breeders comparisons weren't to stop with the music. Dropped from Interscope, conflicting rumors began floating around about Annie going solo, a new record in the works being held up by drug abuse, Micah Calabrese fired for drug abuse, Micah Calabrese fired and in rehab, Annie Hardy putting together a full band, etc. The fact that no product was forthcoming, not even a single, for four years seemed to indicate that this band was done.

Well, it's 2010 and we have a new four song EP from Giant Drag. For those counting, that's a song a year. Band personnel: Annie Hardy and Micah Calabrese. Is it any good? Yeah, it's a nice listen. There's nothing here as strong as "This Isn't It" (or, for that matter, "Wicked Game"), but the songs are solid. Any of the first three could have easily fit on Hearts and Unicorns without seeming out of place. Hell, maybe they're out takes.

Personally, I'm glad to see Giant Drag is still around. Breeders sounding or not, I like 'em. And frankly, Annie Hardy has more balls, so to speak, than Kim Deal has for a long time. Yes, I know - I'm going to Indie Rock Hell for saying that.

For all the noise this band can make, especially considering there's only two of them, the strongest track here is the final one, "Heart Carl", a melancholy love song featuring only acoustic guitar, Annie Hardy's amazing voice, and a nice, very recognizably themed lyric.

I'm not sure if the EP title Swan Song means what it implies, but the rumor mill has it that Annie and Micah are busy banging out another full length as I write this.

Go pick it up. It's cheap, it's a good listen, and I'd like Giant Drag to think enough people care to make it worth sticking around.


2 Hearts and 1 Unicorn for this one

Spoon - Transference (Merge Records 2010)

I literally watched this band grow up. I was at their first gig. My shitty band played several shows with them. Does that make me important? No. Will it allow me to present an unbiased opinion? No fucking way.





I dug that up cleaning out our extra room the other day. What does it have to do with Tranference, Spoon's latest offering? Nothing. I just thought it was cool.

Tranference has a mellower style to it than Spoon's 2007 offering Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, but that's not to say the music has lost any edge. Daniel's songs have always been edgy, even the mellower cuts, with a feeling that the tension and release could fall out of sync at any moment and result in almost visceral disaster. That Daniel takes such pleasure and is so adept at fucking with tension and release pop music paradigms only serves to take it up a notch.

Sound experimental? Spoon has gotten more so with each progressive release, and Transference takes Daniel's odd combinations of minimalist post-punk, krautrock, world beat, and just plain wierdness to the highest level yet. There's just no pigeonhole for this band. Nor should there be. They exist in Britt Daniel's own unique musical vision.

Album opener "Before Destruction" and "Written in Reverse" are the two big winners here, but there aren't any losers. It's also going to make the wait to see what Britt Daniel and Spoon come up with next practically unbearable.

4 out of 4 Can records

Vampire Weekend - Contra (XL Recordings 2010)

Ever listened to "Graceland" by Paul Simon? Well, if not, he took a bunch of musicians from Africa and made a pop world beat record. People went nuts for it. It shipped gold and was Paul Simon's most successful record in years. The fact that Peter Gabriel had already done this and even started his own record label, which he operated at a loss, to record and distribute the artists who had helped him out when he made his own Afro-pop album seemed entirely overlooked by all but a few, myself and my sanctimonious friends among them.

What does this have to do with Vampire Weekend's latest release?

Imagine Paul Simon making "Graceland" but having to substitute samples, electronic rhythms, and poorly layered production to make up for the fact that he didn't have some 150 actual African musicians and vocalists to back him up. Imagine that he also didn't have 30 years of experience writing pop songs. Well, there you have "Contra" by NYC foursome Vampire Weekend.

Many might admire their chutzpah and ambition in attempting to recreate this blend of Afro-beat and Western pop, and I sure do. Unfortunately, they have neither the experience nor the resources to pull it off. The record sounds weak, thin, WAY too electronic, and primary vocalist Ezra Koenig tries WAY too hard to sound EXACTLY like Paul Simon.

I didn't like "Graceland" with the stunning, orchestral production and the real Paul Simon at the helm, but I admired him for doing it (even though Peter Gabriel did it first), and I don't like "Contra" with its (deliberately?) poor production and a Paul Simon wannabe at the helm.

People love this band. I do admire what they're trying to do. I just wish they were better at it. Maybe someday.

1 out of 4 vampires

Lou Barlow - Goodnight Unknown (Merge 2009) / Sons of Hercules - A Different Kind of Ugly (Saustex Media 2009)

Well, I said I'd be less prolific, so here's your first post on records that have already been reviewed endlessly elsewhere.











Lou Barlow - Goodnight Unknown (Merge 2009)

One of the things I've always loved about Barlow is his ability to embrace his own myth. The testimonial sticker on the front of this record, usually a quote from Pitchfork or Rolling Stone or some other piece of shit, reads, "A cross between my later work with Folk Implosion and my earlier work with Sebadoh to my ears, anyway." The quote is attributed to Lou Barlow. Cracks me up.

His dsecription isn't far from the truth in many places, but the record contains a liberal dose of the cleaned up acoustica of his last album "Emoh". No problem, here. Fuck the fan backlash - it was a damn good record, even it it wasn't "lo-fi". Get your heads out Sebadoh's ass, idiots.

That being said, this record has something for every Barlow fan. The strongest track is the opener, "Goodnight Unknown", but there's really not a bad cut on here in spite of its ups and downs.

3.5 out 4 mopey kids

Sons of Hercules - A Different Kind of Ugly (Saustex Media 2009)

I love garage rock, and The Sons of Hercules are VERY good at garage rock. By the same token, there's something like going to a renaissance festival when listening to a garage rock record or going to a garage rock show in 2010. Yeah, it's good. Yeah, it gets the blood pumping. Yeah, it's been riding a revival wave since the mid 1990's. Maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm just getting old. But there are currently 10 bands out there doing more interesting stuff than garage rock for every 1 good garage rock band, and there are literally hundreds of garage rock bands in every burg that can be called a "city" in this country. Mostly really bad ones.

Certainly The Sons have earned their place in the pantheon of great American garage rock bands that kicked off as a response to The British Invasion. But at the end of the day it's still just garage rock. Don't hate me too much - I've been in almost nothing but garage bands for 25 years.

On a final, probably unnecessary point - it's hard for me to like this band. Frontman Frank Pugliese has been nothing but a dismissive prick to me since we met when my band opened for the Sons at Liberty Lunch way back in the mid-1990's. I've met four musicians that were in bands that opened for The Sex Pistols on their ill fated American tour - Alejandro Escovedo, T. Tex Edwards, Penelope Houston, and Frank Pugliese. Frank's the only one who seems to think such a distinction matters for shit. Call me a petty fuck. Call him one. I really don't care.

2 out 4 Frank Puglieses

Until next time,

MC

Well, I guess I'm back

Since it seems more people are stopping by this blog recently than were a year ago when I basically gave up on it, I suppose I’ll give it another whirl. I just put my old band back together so, what the fuck, here’s to new beginnings.

I doubt I’ll be quite so prolific as in the previous incarnation, but I’m going to try and maintain a steady output, comment on pop culture bullshit, note passings, and review the occasional popular release and every release sent my way by record labels and professional working bands.

A couple of items of note to kick things off:

McDonalds Rap – 18 year old Spenser Dauwalder and three of his 17 year old friends (names withheld) were cited by Salt Lake City police with disorderly conduct for rapping, rather than speaking, their order at a McDonalds drive through window. The window clerk claims she felt “threatened” (makes you wonder at the color of her skin, the four teens in question being black) and store manager Conny Kramer claimed the teens were “holding up the line”. The teens claim there was no line to be held up and ultimately left empty handed after being asked a few times to do so.

Teens pull pranks. They can be harmless, amusing, irritating, irresponsible, dangerous, and/or criminal in nature. I think Spenser Dauwalder and his friends could have been up to some much more serious shit than fucking with a McDonalds drive through clerk. I feel comfortable making this judgment stemming from the fact that the teenage pranks I indulged in tended toward the last three on the list above.

It seems to me that the response of the SLCPD and the McDonalds manager in question was disproportionately draconian. I’m no fan of rap, but gimme a fucking break. As irritating as this episode certainly was to the drive through clerk there is no implied or inherent threat in the rap music genre. What an easy collar for the cops – why go after teens carrying firearms and selling drugs when you can bust four teenagers who were just out cruising for a good time and didn’t really commit a crime at all. I wonder what would have happened if the four culprits had sung their order in a genre the clerk appreciated.

Also

Drummer Chuck Biscuits, alum of such classic American punk bands as Black Flag, The Misfits, Samhain, and Social Distortion was reported as having died of throat cancer on October 24th yesterday. This news quickly went viral and was all over the internet within hours. Chuck Biscuits is very much alive and well and continuing to live and work in Southern California. Who starts this shit? Why? If it was some self important prick like Scott Weiland then it would be understandable and even funny. But Chuck Biscuits? Who did he piss off?

Finally

73 year old actor/director Dennis Hopper, the man who went from making brilliant left-wing counter cultural films in the late 60’s to inexplicably switching sides to neoconservative Republicanism (while remaining a brilliant actor the whole time – gotta give him that) has placed his career on hold after being diagnosed with prostate cancer. His prognosis in uncertain. Political differences aside, all my hopes and concerns go out to Hopper, still one of my favorite actors.

Nothing you couldn’t pick up from a quick scan of internet news, I know, but I’m just getting back into the swing of things. Maybe I’ll review Lou Barlow’s new release next. After seeing him live the other night I have a feeling it’ll be a good one.

Mitch Mitchell RIP

Eric Clapton, John Lennon and, most famously, Jimi Hendrix Experience (among an impressive array of others) drummer Mitch Mitchell was found dead in his hotel room yesterday. He was 61.

The Cure - "4:13 Dream" (Geffen Records 2008)

It’s been four years since The Cure released the remarkably lackluster eponymously titled The Cure, continuing with Robert Smith’s stated intent beginning with 1989’s brilliant Disintegration to release a new Cure record every four years. Well, in spite of truckload of accolades, awards, and recognitions it’s been a rough couple of decades musically for the band. Wish, the 1992 follow-up to Disintegration, was spotty at best. It certainly had its fair share of moments but an equal weight in phoned in, weak material. 1996’s Wild Mood Swings continued this directionless direction and was an aptly titled record that didn’t know what it wanted to be. Bloodflowers, released in 2000, returned to the more familiar, melancholic ground The Cure operates most comfortably on. Smith hired nu-metal producer Ross Robinson and gave us 2004’s The Cure, referred to by Smith as “Cure heavy”. Whether an attempt to update their sound or simply an uninspired exercise in order to maintain the four year interval, or both, the record was a fucking disaster. I can think of two listenable songs on the whole thing, and that’s being generous. With longtime keyboardist and collaborator Roger O’Donnell’s departure in May 2005 and Smith’s stated intention not to replace him my hopes dimmed for the future of a band I once considered one of the best in the world.

They say high expectations can lead to disappointment, and that the inverse is true. I had pretty low expectations for 4:13 Dream, but after listening to the thing ten or more times I’ve gotta say that this is strongest Cure record since Disintegration. Not that it bears much sonic or mood resemblance to that record, but in its tight focus. Finally, after all this time, a record with a solid vision behind it. That vision is guitar drenched pop, and it turns out they’re pretty good at it.

With the stripped down lineup of Smith, Simon Gallup, Porl Thompson, and Jason Cooper, whatever keyboard is in there (Smith is credited with “keys”) is strictly backdrop. Anyone familiar with the band’s body of work knows that by 1985’s Head on the Door Smith had forsaken minimalism for lush production, and this record is no exception. Working with producer Keith Uddin (Bjork, Nick Cave, Oasis, and about a thousand others) the two produce a sonic landscape of layered guitars and subtle rhythms that just sounds fucking great.

Opening with “Underneath the Stars”, a song bearing the most familiar Cure hallmarks of the record, 4:13 Dream abruptly veers into the overtly sexual “The Only One” – both terrific pop songs but stylistically very different. The record proceeds to move around through mid to up tempo hooky numbers, almost all catchy as hell and displaying a satisfying range of the lyrical subject matter that Smith is so good at. From the bouncy, tongue in cheek “Freak Show” to the more melancholic longing of The Hungry Ghost”, it’s all in there.

While this all may give the impression of disjointedness, it’s the confidence of this record that ties everything together and really makes it work. It seems Smith has found his way to remain contemporary without resorting to ill-considered plays like “Cure heavy”. The Cure reportedly recorded 33 songs for this record, initially intended as a double record, but decided instead to pick and choose, and they really hit the mark as far as how well these songs fit together as a whole (there are band propagated rumors of a second release of “darker material” before Robert Smith’s birthday (April 21st) – something I think would be only fair considering this album’s release was delayed by seven months).

Complaints? Of course. All five of you who actually read this blog know my opinion of Jason Cooper’s drumming. There’s no way it was going to be easy to replace Boris Williams but it’s difficult to credit that Cooper was the best they could do. While a serviceable timekeeper, his uninspired electronic drum fills and general lack of creativity serve only to diminish the superb bass skills of Simon Gallup. The one song on which there is some semblance of the bass/drums interplay that was such a hallmark of The Cure prior to Cooper is “Sleep When I’m Dead”, a song apparently composed by Smith and Gallup during The Head on the Door sessions.

Also, while the intentions of a song like “Freak Show” are good, it’s a little bit much. Its jerky arrangement and almost spoken lyric make it stand out, and not in a good way. That being said, I have no doubt that it’s the big hit in all the dance clubs as I type this.

So, is 4:13 Dream a brilliant record? No. Does it give an indication that Smith has another masterpiece along the lines of Pornography or Disintegration in him? Not necessarily. But what it does show is that Robert Smith still has it in him to produce great pop records that adapt with the times without compromising that distinctly Cure essence. For me, anyway, that’s enough.

3.5 out of 4 dreams

John Daly RIP

Chairman of Film and Music Entertainment Inc. John Daly died Fridy at the age of 71. He produced flicks like Platoon and The Last Emporer. There's a lot more interesting shit about his early career if you want to look it up, but I'm too sick of writing about the recently deceased to research it and cast it into my own poetic prose.

Studs Terkel RIP

What can I say that you don't already know about the man if you gave a shit about him. I'm really going to have to stop noting these passings. Rest in peace, Studs. 93 is a pretty good run.

Tony Hillerman RIP

I'm going to have to stop writing eulogies. This is getting ridiculous. Here we go:

Tony Hillerman was an American writer. He wrote mysteries set in the American Southwest that involved Native Americans and their spiritual beliefs. Lots of people liked his stuff and he sold millions of books. I never read anything he wrote even though a couple of people have told me I should. He died Sunday at the age of 83 of pulmonary failure.

I hate to sell him short but, while immensely popular, Cormac McCarthy he wasn't. Or so I'm told. Plus, I'm sick of this blog being a litany of dead cultural personalities and their life stories. Sorry, Tony. Maybe I'll get around to you some day.

Levi Stubbs RIP

R&B wonder and frontman for The Four Tops Levi Stubbs died today at age 72 from several complications arising from cancer he was diagnosed with in 1995. The Four Tops and The Temptations pretty much defined the male side of the Motown sound in the 1960's, and Stubb's has the distinction of being the first defined "lead vocalist" in an R&B group. They couldn't have picked a better one.

Edie Adams RIP

Groucho Marx once said of Edie Adams, “There are some things Edie won’t do, but nothing she can’t do.”

For an actress, singer and comedienne who could count playing the foil to comedian Ernie Kovacs on his TV show, spending twenty years as the spokeswoman for Muriel Cigars, starring most memorably in film in Billy Wilder’s Oscar Award winning picture The Apartment, winning a Tony Award for her portrayal of Daisy Mae in Broadway’s adaptation of Lil’ Abner, and numerous nominations for and winning of other awards among her achievements I’d say Groucho hit the nail on the head.

Edie Adams died of lung cancer and pneumonia yesterday at the age of 81. Nice job, Edie. I really don’t think they make ‘em like you anymore.

"Zack and Miri Make a Porno" and the Latest Loss of Childhood Innocence

I suppose it started with the Comics Code Authority in 1954. For those of you who don’t know, this was an industry self imposed set of restrictions on comic book content established to avoid government regulation by The Senate Subcommittee on Juvenile Delinquency, which was set up specifically to focus on comic books (this during The Cold War – you’d think The Senate would have had bigger fish to fry. Like Joe McCarthy). Yes, to protect America’s tender, impressionable youths from lurid, immorally seductive images and ideas conveyed by fanciful cartoons drawn and pressed on paper. If you want the details look it up – it’s every bit as absurd as you might imagine.

Then came the countless studies that continue to this day on the terrifying impact that television is having on youthful minds. Television romanticizes violence, sexuality and drug use. Television reduces intelligence. Television causes autism. The Red Chinese use television to brainwash political prisoners. Tinky Winky is gay. It’s inevitable that television will at some point produce a generation of homicidal, crack smoking, homosexual, idiot-savants that will destroy the country, if it hasn’t already happened.

Need I mention rock ‘n’ roll music, which was leading our impressionable youth into Satan worship, drug abuse, and suicide in the 1980's? That one landed in The Senate as well, thanks to our latter day hero of the centrist-left Al Gore. If he’d spent that energy on environmental politics maybe people would have started listening sooner. Anyway, as Gene Simmons pointed out, had subliminal messaging in rock ‘n’ roll music worked his would have been, “Buy more KISS records!” I venture to say he’s not alone in that sentiment.

Now video games are the bugaboo. Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold wouldn’t have shot all those people at Columbine High School if it weren’t for the nefarious influence of violent video games in their lives. Nor would the handful of school shooters since. Pre-existing mental instability, unchecked bullying, and poor parenting didn’t enter into it at all. It was that one last round of Doom that pushed them over the edge. This is proven by the fact that the millions of teenagers out there playing violent video games are even now oiling their carbines.

This brings us around, of course, to movies. In 1930 The Motion Pictures Producers and Distributors Association (now The Motion Picture Association of America) adopted The Production Code to avoid any “lurid” content from making it into films (again – look it up). This was a little different in that it was intended to protect EVERYONE from the profane and vulgar imaginations of the riff-raff involved in the motion picture industry. In 1968 The Production Code was abandoned for the (now) MPAA’s film rating system, designed to keep “morally questionable” content out of films. This had more of a focus on children, arbitrarily deciding at which age a child was capable of safely absorbing which kind of content. The holds, of course, slipped here with the advent of cable television, video cassette rentals, and the DVD revolution. Still, no rabid hordes of bloodthirsty nymphomaniac teenagers running wild in the streets. At least, as in the cases mentioned above, no more than usual.

Which brings me to my point. Kevin Smith’s new movie Zack and Miri Make a Porno has raised something of a furor. Several TV stations, newspapers and cable networks are refusing to screen the ad. The City of Philadelphia has ordered all poster ads pulled from its bus stops, and The City of Boston is considering doing the same. Fox Sports has agreed, at the team’s request, to not show the ad during Dodger’s games as the ads damage the Dodgers’ “family friendly” image. Kevin Smith had to beg the MPAA to drop the film’s rating from “NC-17”, a box office killer, to “R”. Why all the hubub, bub? The last word of the film’s title. Yes – “porno”. This five letter word is now the overwhelming threat to the morals of a new generation. It doesn’t matter that the movie isn’t a porno, or even a sex comedy for that matter. It has the word “porno” in the title.

And I thought the 1954 Senate being scared of comic books was absurd.

Neal Hefti RIP

Let’s face it. It doesn’t matter that Neal Hefti scored The Odd Couple and Barefoot in the Park. It doesn’t even matter that this unbelievably talented trumpet player sat in with orchestras conducted by such luminaries as Count Basie and Harry James among others. Impressive achievements all, but, in the end, they just don’t matter.

Finally, it doesn’t matter that Hefti scored what is generally agreed to be possibly the most puerile, asinine television series of the 1960’s (Adam West disagrees, and I’ll probably get my ass chewed by modpro for saying it, but that doesn’t change the ugly truth). What matters, in the final analysis, is that theme song. A song that burrowed its way into the consciousnesses of at least two generations of kids. One of the coolest theme songs of all times – right up there with The Munsters.

Hefti always said that the Batman and Robin theme song was the most difficult piece he ever wrote, and it shows. It made that piece of crap show worth watching. Well, at least the first minute of it. And usually the whole grim half hour, as aspects of the song would show up periodically throughout the episode, especially during the fight scenes. He won a grammy for that song, and a more deserved one has never been handed out.

Neal Hefti died today at the age of 85. A pretty good run and a pretty distinguished career. But man, that song…