Unwinnable

Thanks, Mom.

There’s a long list of writers, directors, artists and musicians who have influenced me. Recently I wrote about how the science fiction author Douglas Adams helped lead me down the left hand path towards atheism. But I would have never read Adams or countless others if not for one woman. My mother had more to do with me becoming the person I am today than any teacher ever did. And she did it behind the wheel of a faded fire-engine red Ford Fairmont station wagon. (more…)

When it comes to the “Big Four,” I am somewhat embarrassed to admit that Slayer trailed in last place for me. Part of the problem was that they were too fucking scary. Slayer albums were ugly, satanic-looking things that looked like they were cobbled together in blood and flesh by some addled madman. I preferred the austere, somewhat boneheaded symbolism of Metallica’s album covers. Lady Justice is crumbling because the government is all messed up, you know? (more…)

Two months ago, a glowy teaser trailer for Far Cry 3: Blood Dragon dropped and it felt like something I’ve already seen a million times before. (Know that those impressions are coming from someone born two years too late to actually experience the nostalgia being marketed here.)

Pop culture will never forget the ’80s. Cyclical waves of the excessive period come and go every few years, and right now we’re in the midst of a cynical and dark barrage of neo-’80s fluff that’s only going to lead to more stubborn remembering in the future. (more…)

Remember when Elvis’s hip shake was the most scandalous thing about music? Us neither. As soon as music could be recorded and reproduced, it pushed up against the polite boundaries of society. For over 130 years, music has used its unique ability to shock in order to question authority (“Fuck the Police“), religion (“Dear God“) and politics (“Maggie“), but no other subject has had so many taboos shattered by song than sex. So, for Sex Week, we’ve collected the sexiest, dirtiest, perviest songs we could find and mixed them together into two of the naughtiest hours of pounding drums, penetrating guitars and moaning vocals that your ears will ever hear.   (more…)

I am getting ahead of myself. My son, Halford, can barely hold his head up and I’m already plotting his reading habits. These things must be planned, I tell myself. Fantagraphics might let some of those Carl Barks Donald Duck books go out of print. So, I compile a wish list on Amazon of Tin Tin, Astroboy and Asterix – all the fine cartoon art a growing boy needs. (more…)

When improvising with fellow musicians, the most beautiful moment of the jam occurs when there’s a miscommunication. Perhaps the drummer fails to telegraph a time signature change, the bassist attempts unsuccessfully to switch keys, or the guitarist commits to a histrionic solo while his bandmates try to slow the pace. The song very nearly unravels, breaks, but one instrument hangs on to a singular string of an idea, allowing the rest of the band to latch on and reconstitute the rhythm and melody from what was, briefly, total chaos.

That is videogame testing. (more…)

Gus is a little busy with something this week – we are sure there will be a column about it soon enough. In the meantime, we present this vintage Pretension +1, originally published at Joystick Division, as an unsubtle hint as to the nature of Gus’ absence.

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I’m not the kind of guy that needs music recommendations. I’ve got a storage closet full of CDs, a hard drive full of music (iTunes says around 215gb) and an RSS feed brimming with music blogs desperate to turn me on to new sounds. (more…)