A difficult thing it must be to progress from a flawless piece of art. I will never know, more than likely, but I know how it feels to be betrayed by someone who failed. In music, especially, where the majority of the material is original (with some influence, obviously), improving on a sound so innovative or an album so untouchable is a delicate process. Look no further than the last year or so to see what happens when a band goes to far and fails. The Flaming Lips went too deep into their fascination with Japan. The Killers got too greedy. Bloc Party took a step sideways. The Magic Numbers tried to be more than they are. And Clap Your Hands Say Yeah just got too weird. So when Arcade Fire's Neon Bible came out Tuesday, I was worried. Worried that they'd take their success on a power trip of musical wayfaring, exploring sounds untraveled and vibes unfamiliar.
The bad news: they did.
The good news: it worked.
I've listened to the album without intermission for the last 3 days, and I've had to. The first runthrough was rough. I can't say I avoided feelings of betrayal; the distant departure from Funeral left me a bit shellshocked. But because I believed in the band and their talents I pressed on. I listened again. And again. And four more times, end-to-end. And I've come to grips with the differences, the evolution, the message and am ready to praise it. I've read little of the critics, determined to discover my own opinion before bowing to theirs (I couldn't stay away from Pitchfork, the Onion or Rolling Stone). My opinion is ready.
This isn't Funeral, and it's obvious Arcade Fire sought to hammer that point home. Bible is bigger in every sense; the lyrics are worldly, the depth of sound is hard to grasp and the message is daunting.
Let's start with the lyrics. While Funeral chronicled personal agony and loss, Bible's words warn of apocalyptic meltdowns and societal shortcomings. Win Butler's raspy scrawl leaps from his personal sufferings to the cataclysmic conditions of the world around. In "Black Mirror," the disc's opening track, Butler cries 'Mirror, mirror on the wall/Show me where them bombs will fall.' Think Snow White. The warnings continue throughout. Butler rails on war and commercialism in "Intervention" and "Windowsill," cuts up the dirtier parts of the global landscape in "Ocean of Noise" and "(Antichrist Television Blues)" and bombards us with harrowing images and gruesome depictions.
The orchestration alone would tell you as much. It takes no more than the first few bars of "Mirror" to set the grisly tone. The beats are heavy and deliberate, the bass is drowning and the words are sung cryptically. And anytime a pipe organ is involved, and you're not at church, you know it ain't a hymn they're playing. The CD is mostly deafening, with a couple crucial breaks for air and more poignant vocals. Don't think for a second that the band wanted its listeners to feel comfortable. The stacked accompaniment is a far cry from Funeral's layered instrumentation. Funeral brought instruments in gradually, astutely matching the progression of heartbreak its subjects endured. The result was a transparency that allowed the listener to feel exactly as the authors did at the exact moments. Each song ascended from a timid level 1 to an excruciating and often overwhelming level 10. Bible blinds you from the first second. There is no first level. There's barely a 10th. These songs, more often than not, go to 11.
Arcade Fire knows they probably won't change the world through the disdain they display on this record. They know they will lose some fans, too afraid to jump from the comfortable ship Funeral provided. Their loss. After one listen, I'm not sure whether I need to ice my ears or dive straight in for another go-round. I've decided, each time, to go again. 'A vial of hope and a vial of pain/In the light they both looked the same,' Butler sings in the title track. When the pain sounds this good, I have only hope for another ingenious, stand-alone album.
Thursday, March 8, 2007
Monday, February 12, 2007
Grammy Recap
I see no reason why The Fray, Death Cab For Cutie, Keane, or even The Pussycat Dolls should feel compelled to continue their careers as musicians. "My Humps" won a Grammy. Forget the Police reunion, who cares about the Dixie Chicks, and Justin Timberlake can go videotape his own life. This is the lead story. The integrity of the Grammys, considered the music industry's highest honor, is in real trouble. The fact that this sorry excuse for art was even nominated was despicable enough. My four-year-old students routinely come up with more innovative hooks. I just don't see how anyone involved in the voting can take himself seriously anymore.
Let's face it, the Grammys, in my adult lifetime, have rarely actually been about the best music. Occasionally there are albums, songs and artists honored that received widespread acclaim, but it's mostly a reaffirmation of stardom for the most successful of successful radio juggernauts. And you could argue it's becoming more of a political, statement-sending scene after last night, when the Dixie Chicks rode their anti-Bush, anti-conformatism message to five awards. Don't think the industry voted for them solely because the music was the best. It wasn't.
And if the Grammys suddenly embraced the most critically-lauded artists of the year -the TV On the Radios, the Decemberists, Joanna Newsomes - the ratings would be awful. Give us the Mary J. Bliges, the U2s, the Timberlakes, and people are happy.
That's why it's no big deal to me that the Chicks won. It's a nice honor for them obviously, will look good on their resume, and should land them a Rolling Stone cover, but anyone who knows music shouldn't instantly crown them as 'the band' of the moment. Anyway, it still makes for a good watch, although it ran a bit long last night (did we really need three and a half hours?) and the performances are always interesting. Let's analyze the winners.
Album of the Year: "Taking the Long Way," The Dixie Chicks
Personally, I didn't love any of these albums front to back. The Red Hot Chili Peppers was by far my least favorite. I felt the double album was indulgent and really dragged. And there's nothing new or progressive on the CD; we've heard this before from RHCP. John Mayer is talented for sure, but I just can't get over his facial expressions and strange noises. Timberlake's album was inconsistent at best. A couple solid tunes, but not worthy of the title. Gnarls Barkley, in my opinion, had the best case. An innovative sound paced by the unquestionable song of the year. Outkast was rewarded for similar accomplishments a couple years ago, although their album holds up much stronger than St. Elsewhere will. Let's put it this way: can everyone you know sing "Not Ready To Make Nice," the Chicks signature track? I can't. But can they sing "Crazy?" Yes, and I bet they loved it.
Record of the Year: "Not Ready to Make Nice," The Dixie Chicks
The biggest job of the night. No sound argument could possibly conclude that "Crazy" was not the song of the year. Never. James Blunt does not belong in this category. One of the most annoying, cliched songs of the year. And you knew Corrinne Bailey Rae wasn't winning. Mary J. Blige is an accomplished R&B artist, but would be a bit of a reach for a best record win.
Best New Artist: Carrie Underwood
She's a fine country singer. The others are terrible. Next.
Other tidbits:
Christina Aguilera rightfully won best female pop vocal performance for "Ain't No Other Man." She also provided the most hair-raising performance of the night, singing James Brown's "It's A Man's World."
Stevie Wonder and Tony Bennett won for a duet of Stevie's "For Once In My Life." Great song. Which Stevie wrote when he was SEVENTEEN. Unbelievable.
Any time the Brian Setzer Orchestra gets denied in the Best Pop Instrumental Performance category, I'm saddened.
How John Mayer wins Best Pop Vocal Album over XTina and T'Lake is astonishing.
Listen to these nominees for Best Solo Rock Performance: Bob Dylan (winner), Tom Petty and Neil Young. I'm sorry, I must have lost my 8-track player.
Slayer won, which is always nice.
The Killers' "When You Were Young" is far and away the best and most identifiably 'rock' song in the Best Rock Song category and it upsets me that a power rock song like that gets beaten by a tired RHCP song about, you guessed it, California.
Somehow Bon Jovi was nominated, and won, in a country music category (Best Country Collaboration with Vocal).
John Lithgow was nominated for Best Musical Album for Children. Who knew.
Jimmy Carter, yes, that Jimmy Carter won for Best Spoken Word Album, over the likes of Bill Maher, Al Franken, and Bob Newhart.
Somehow the soundtrack for "Walk the Line" and the score for "Memoirs of a Geisha" were still elligible. They both won.
Let's face it, the Grammys, in my adult lifetime, have rarely actually been about the best music. Occasionally there are albums, songs and artists honored that received widespread acclaim, but it's mostly a reaffirmation of stardom for the most successful of successful radio juggernauts. And you could argue it's becoming more of a political, statement-sending scene after last night, when the Dixie Chicks rode their anti-Bush, anti-conformatism message to five awards. Don't think the industry voted for them solely because the music was the best. It wasn't.
And if the Grammys suddenly embraced the most critically-lauded artists of the year -the TV On the Radios, the Decemberists, Joanna Newsomes - the ratings would be awful. Give us the Mary J. Bliges, the U2s, the Timberlakes, and people are happy.
That's why it's no big deal to me that the Chicks won. It's a nice honor for them obviously, will look good on their resume, and should land them a Rolling Stone cover, but anyone who knows music shouldn't instantly crown them as 'the band' of the moment. Anyway, it still makes for a good watch, although it ran a bit long last night (did we really need three and a half hours?) and the performances are always interesting. Let's analyze the winners.
Album of the Year: "Taking the Long Way," The Dixie Chicks
Personally, I didn't love any of these albums front to back. The Red Hot Chili Peppers was by far my least favorite. I felt the double album was indulgent and really dragged. And there's nothing new or progressive on the CD; we've heard this before from RHCP. John Mayer is talented for sure, but I just can't get over his facial expressions and strange noises. Timberlake's album was inconsistent at best. A couple solid tunes, but not worthy of the title. Gnarls Barkley, in my opinion, had the best case. An innovative sound paced by the unquestionable song of the year. Outkast was rewarded for similar accomplishments a couple years ago, although their album holds up much stronger than St. Elsewhere will. Let's put it this way: can everyone you know sing "Not Ready To Make Nice," the Chicks signature track? I can't. But can they sing "Crazy?" Yes, and I bet they loved it.
Record of the Year: "Not Ready to Make Nice," The Dixie Chicks
The biggest job of the night. No sound argument could possibly conclude that "Crazy" was not the song of the year. Never. James Blunt does not belong in this category. One of the most annoying, cliched songs of the year. And you knew Corrinne Bailey Rae wasn't winning. Mary J. Blige is an accomplished R&B artist, but would be a bit of a reach for a best record win.
Best New Artist: Carrie Underwood
She's a fine country singer. The others are terrible. Next.
Other tidbits:
Christina Aguilera rightfully won best female pop vocal performance for "Ain't No Other Man." She also provided the most hair-raising performance of the night, singing James Brown's "It's A Man's World."
Stevie Wonder and Tony Bennett won for a duet of Stevie's "For Once In My Life." Great song. Which Stevie wrote when he was SEVENTEEN. Unbelievable.
Any time the Brian Setzer Orchestra gets denied in the Best Pop Instrumental Performance category, I'm saddened.
How John Mayer wins Best Pop Vocal Album over XTina and T'Lake is astonishing.
Listen to these nominees for Best Solo Rock Performance: Bob Dylan (winner), Tom Petty and Neil Young. I'm sorry, I must have lost my 8-track player.
Slayer won, which is always nice.
The Killers' "When You Were Young" is far and away the best and most identifiably 'rock' song in the Best Rock Song category and it upsets me that a power rock song like that gets beaten by a tired RHCP song about, you guessed it, California.
Somehow Bon Jovi was nominated, and won, in a country music category (Best Country Collaboration with Vocal).
John Lithgow was nominated for Best Musical Album for Children. Who knew.
Jimmy Carter, yes, that Jimmy Carter won for Best Spoken Word Album, over the likes of Bill Maher, Al Franken, and Bob Newhart.
Somehow the soundtrack for "Walk the Line" and the score for "Memoirs of a Geisha" were still elligible. They both won.
Thursday, February 8, 2007
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
The Search Is Over
Yesterday, I solved a riddle that I know has been punishing many of you night and day for the last couple months. It hit me somewhere between 1 and 1:45 pm. And since its solution, my head traffic has been much less chaotic.
I discovered, without question, the most frustrating sequence of events that could possibly befall a human being in the winter months. My rear driver-side tire was low on air.
I've long since cleared the annoyance of having to pay for air; 50-75 cents is the norm these days (Some BPs still have it for free). No biggie. I've got quarters to blow, and a tire that's about to. And luckily, there's a convenient Super America (whose air I've utilized before) located right next to my work. So, at 1 o'clock, I slid on over to take care of business and enjoy the rest of my hour-long break. Not so fast, said the air compressor gods, of which I am now convinced there are many, all conspiring against me. I plugged in my last three quarters, and the machine buzzed. But to my horror, there was no tip on the extendable cable. I then noticed the "out of order" sign on the machine. I'm reminded why yellow highlighters were never popular choices for important note-writing.
No matter.
There are plenty of gas stations nearby, and I have one lonely dollar in my wallet that I can change. If blackjack dealers can "change $100, I can change 1. It's a verb, and as far as this rant goes, I'll anoint it whatever type of speech I please. Next stop: a Sinclair station a couple blocks down. What's this? No air? Still unfazed, I glide past another Sinclair, slowing enough to recognize the lack of a compressor at this station as well. I still have a good 50 minutes left of my break, I think, and I'm only a mile or so away from the break room and its couches. Another Super America awaits. Yet, like its predecessor, the air machine is broken. I share a moment of commiseration with a biker who undoubtedly is more desperate for air than I. It's 12 degrees below 0. That's a tough bike ride with a flat.
I know there's a BP nearby, so I point my Cirrus in its direction, seeking a free end to my search. Alas, the gods conspire again, and offer another air-less station for my convenience. Another dead-end Sinclair station later and I'm on to stop number 7 in minute number 25. And this one finally has a working air machine. Good thing too, because I can still squeeze in a short nap to close my break.
At only 50 cents, this was a deal. I parked in back, and walked around to the front entrance to enter the store and change my buck. I launch myself into the door, which refuses to budge. I try again. Nothing. I try to pull the other door. That's when I noticed. "Back in 10 minutes," the sign says, puzzling the half-dozen customers that had gathered at this centrally-located gas station. (On University Ave in St. Paul for those who know what that means. I know, it's crazy.) It's worth the wait for me, and I fill up with gas in the meantime. The clerk finally arrives, and I wonder why I've just contributed $25 to a gas station that leaves its customers loitering in below-zero weather. I'm in it to win it, though, and the prize is a pumped-up tire only four quarters change away.
He wouldn't change my dollar. "Sorry, we need the quarters," he says. I'm too tired to argue at this point, so I snatch a nasty cheese crackers and peanut butter treat that costs 30 cents. I'm worried I won't get the two quarters change I need, but sure enough, he slides them through the glass divider. A minute later, my tire was full, and my break was coming to a close. 50 minutes and seven gas stations to pump one semi-flat tire back to life.
You tell me a more frustrating sequence that doesn't involve an over-the-phone customer service conversation. So today, I decided to take note of every annoying, frustrating moment of my day, and stand it up against the air search. I've invented the Frustrameter, a ten-point scale (with decimals) to measure the amount of frustration. Yesterday's incident is a 10. Here's my day so far.
.3 Tried the wrong key in apartment door
1.4 Someone stole my exercise machine at the Rec
2.0 Bus in my turn lane
4.1 Peeled an orange; residue stuck under fingernail all day
4.8 While un-crustifying old glue bottle spouts, a chunk of old glue lodges under my fingernail
5.6 Bathroom stench lingers
6.3 Car parked over sidewalk forces off-road walk
7.5 Alarm goes off at 5:45 am
7.9 Cannot convey to four-year-old what "Stay on your cot!" means
8.2 Bottom of pants get wet from snow, remain wet and cold once inside and shoeless
8.8 Have to do laundry
8.9 Fold yesterday's laundry, some of which is still wet
9.0 Have to re-wash pants (washed yesterday) after unfortunate paint and glue explosions
9.1 Forget detergent on first trip down to laundry room
9.2 Detergent leaks on hand
9.6 Freshly-wiped rear window covered by roof snow as soon as car hits the road
Man, this life thing is frustrating.
I discovered, without question, the most frustrating sequence of events that could possibly befall a human being in the winter months. My rear driver-side tire was low on air.
I've long since cleared the annoyance of having to pay for air; 50-75 cents is the norm these days (Some BPs still have it for free). No biggie. I've got quarters to blow, and a tire that's about to. And luckily, there's a convenient Super America (whose air I've utilized before) located right next to my work. So, at 1 o'clock, I slid on over to take care of business and enjoy the rest of my hour-long break. Not so fast, said the air compressor gods, of which I am now convinced there are many, all conspiring against me. I plugged in my last three quarters, and the machine buzzed. But to my horror, there was no tip on the extendable cable. I then noticed the "out of order" sign on the machine. I'm reminded why yellow highlighters were never popular choices for important note-writing.
No matter.
There are plenty of gas stations nearby, and I have one lonely dollar in my wallet that I can change. If blackjack dealers can "change $100, I can change 1. It's a verb, and as far as this rant goes, I'll anoint it whatever type of speech I please. Next stop: a Sinclair station a couple blocks down. What's this? No air? Still unfazed, I glide past another Sinclair, slowing enough to recognize the lack of a compressor at this station as well. I still have a good 50 minutes left of my break, I think, and I'm only a mile or so away from the break room and its couches. Another Super America awaits. Yet, like its predecessor, the air machine is broken. I share a moment of commiseration with a biker who undoubtedly is more desperate for air than I. It's 12 degrees below 0. That's a tough bike ride with a flat.
I know there's a BP nearby, so I point my Cirrus in its direction, seeking a free end to my search. Alas, the gods conspire again, and offer another air-less station for my convenience. Another dead-end Sinclair station later and I'm on to stop number 7 in minute number 25. And this one finally has a working air machine. Good thing too, because I can still squeeze in a short nap to close my break.
At only 50 cents, this was a deal. I parked in back, and walked around to the front entrance to enter the store and change my buck. I launch myself into the door, which refuses to budge. I try again. Nothing. I try to pull the other door. That's when I noticed. "Back in 10 minutes," the sign says, puzzling the half-dozen customers that had gathered at this centrally-located gas station. (On University Ave in St. Paul for those who know what that means. I know, it's crazy.) It's worth the wait for me, and I fill up with gas in the meantime. The clerk finally arrives, and I wonder why I've just contributed $25 to a gas station that leaves its customers loitering in below-zero weather. I'm in it to win it, though, and the prize is a pumped-up tire only four quarters change away.
He wouldn't change my dollar. "Sorry, we need the quarters," he says. I'm too tired to argue at this point, so I snatch a nasty cheese crackers and peanut butter treat that costs 30 cents. I'm worried I won't get the two quarters change I need, but sure enough, he slides them through the glass divider. A minute later, my tire was full, and my break was coming to a close. 50 minutes and seven gas stations to pump one semi-flat tire back to life.
You tell me a more frustrating sequence that doesn't involve an over-the-phone customer service conversation. So today, I decided to take note of every annoying, frustrating moment of my day, and stand it up against the air search. I've invented the Frustrameter, a ten-point scale (with decimals) to measure the amount of frustration. Yesterday's incident is a 10. Here's my day so far.
.3 Tried the wrong key in apartment door
1.4 Someone stole my exercise machine at the Rec
2.0 Bus in my turn lane
4.1 Peeled an orange; residue stuck under fingernail all day
4.8 While un-crustifying old glue bottle spouts, a chunk of old glue lodges under my fingernail
5.6 Bathroom stench lingers
6.3 Car parked over sidewalk forces off-road walk
7.5 Alarm goes off at 5:45 am
7.9 Cannot convey to four-year-old what "Stay on your cot!" means
8.2 Bottom of pants get wet from snow, remain wet and cold once inside and shoeless
8.8 Have to do laundry
8.9 Fold yesterday's laundry, some of which is still wet
9.0 Have to re-wash pants (washed yesterday) after unfortunate paint and glue explosions
9.1 Forget detergent on first trip down to laundry room
9.2 Detergent leaks on hand
9.6 Freshly-wiped rear window covered by roof snow as soon as car hits the road
Man, this life thing is frustrating.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Big Ten Mid-Season Awards
With the first half of the Big Ten season coming to a close, and in honor of Hollywood's awards season, it's time to hand out some mid-year prizes. I present to you, the Tennies. Work with me people.
Best Visual Effects: Wisconsin’s Alando Tucker is usually good for a highlight or two. Michgan’s Brent Petway is probably the most stunning athlete in the conference. And several coaches, including the Bo Ryan, Tom Izzo and Bruce Weber, are good for a spectacular meltdown. But come on, it’s high-flying Ohio State, with Mike Conley Jr. flying around the court, Greg Oden re-adjusting the rim and a myriad of deep threats patrolling the arc.
Best Cinematography: The Big Ten isn’t known for beautiful offenses, and it’s hard to classify any game as picturesque, but sometimes brilliance does show up. Ohio State has shown the capability to run a smooth, up-tempo offense, but has too often been slowed by worse-than-average defenses to take the honor. Michigan State still runs the best sets in the conference, and even though the experienced leaders are lacking, the movement and ingenuity is still there. After a three-year run by Deron Williams and Dee Brown, the Spartans are back on top here.
Best Screenplay: One of the key pieces to Michigan State’s offense is the big man feigning a high screen, then diving to the hoop for a layup. This remains the best “screen play” in the league. It’s clever, I know. It’s really the only play that stands out, so the category had to be included.
Best Foreign Feature: A fairly sparse category for the conference, with lowly Northwestern sporting the most international lineup. Few global players have made much impact, with Indiana’s Ben Allen (Australia), Michigan State’s Idong Ibok (Nigeria) and Penn State’s Milos Bogetic (Serbia & Montenegro) making tangible contributions. The winner, almost by default, is Iowa’s Kurt Looby, from Antigua. The 6-10 junior leads the surprise Hawkeyes in rebounding and blocked shots.
Eddie Murphy Shocking Performance: So many nominees: MSU’s Goran Suton has come out of nowhere to make himself a viable offensive option. PSU’s Danny Morrissey hit six 3s in back-to-back games. But it’s Indiana, who’s had a slew of surprise contributors (Joey Shaw, Roderick Wilmont, Earl Calloway, Lance Stemler), that houses the winner. Freshman Armon Bassett, an unknown, has scored in double-digits in six of Indiana’s eight conference appearances, and has displayed senior-like poise in clutch situations.
“Little Miss Sunshine” Surprise Contender: Indiana has made a nice run, topped off by their solid win over Wisconsin Wednesday night, but most expected the Hoosiers to be in the top three or four. Wisconsin and Ohio State are the resident Scorseses and Eastwoods. And Michigan is just too inconsistent to take seriously. The Tenny goes to Iowa, for staying afloat and remaining alive in the postseason picture. With a nice road win at Michigan, the Hawkeyes improved to 4-4 in league play, sitting higher than previously mentioned Michigan, Illinois and Purdue in the standings.
Best Supporting Actor: Always an interesting category. Will the proven veterans, like Wisconsin's Kammron Taylor and Purdue's David Teague win as a sort of career achievement reward? Or will newcomers like Ohio State's Mike Conley, Jr. or Iowa's Tyler Smith inspire voters (I guess there's only one)? Penn State's Jamelle Cornley fits somewhere in the middle, and he takes home the mid-season honor. Alongside Geary Claxton, Cornley forms the most powerful forward combo in the conference. I'll ignore the defensive numbers. The Tennies are glamour awards anyway.
Best Director: It’s hard to argue against Wisconsin’s Bo Ryan, who’s managed a superstar while keeping the role players hungry. Ohio State’s Thad Matta has talent for sure, but he’s groomed it well. And Iowa’s Steve Alford has kept Iowa relevant, despite huge talent loss. But in his first season in the Big Ten, Indiana’s Kelvin Sampson has changed the identity of the Hoosiers and instilled toughness Mike Davis could not. Despite losing stud wing Robert Vaden, Indiana has sprung to the top of the conference picture.
Best Actor: Several nominees have proved worthy thus far, with Iowa's Adam Haluska leading the conference in scoring, Ohio State's Greg Oden dominating the glass and controlling the paint (with his off-hand), Carl Landry making a nice comeback for Purdue and Drew Neitzel single-handedly keeping Michigan State in the tournament hunt. But the Tenny goes to Wisconsin's Alando Tucker, who has shown the ability to take over tight contests while administering restraint to involve teammates.
Best Picture: This one, until Wednesday night, was not a tough call. But even after suffering their first loss of the conference season, Wisconsin gets the nod. The Badgers cleared a major hurdle by taking out second-place Ohio State in early January. With the leading star of the conference, a strong supporting cast and a proven director, Wisconsin has all the pieces.
Best Visual Effects: Wisconsin’s Alando Tucker is usually good for a highlight or two. Michgan’s Brent Petway is probably the most stunning athlete in the conference. And several coaches, including the Bo Ryan, Tom Izzo and Bruce Weber, are good for a spectacular meltdown. But come on, it’s high-flying Ohio State, with Mike Conley Jr. flying around the court, Greg Oden re-adjusting the rim and a myriad of deep threats patrolling the arc.
Best Cinematography: The Big Ten isn’t known for beautiful offenses, and it’s hard to classify any game as picturesque, but sometimes brilliance does show up. Ohio State has shown the capability to run a smooth, up-tempo offense, but has too often been slowed by worse-than-average defenses to take the honor. Michigan State still runs the best sets in the conference, and even though the experienced leaders are lacking, the movement and ingenuity is still there. After a three-year run by Deron Williams and Dee Brown, the Spartans are back on top here.
Best Screenplay: One of the key pieces to Michigan State’s offense is the big man feigning a high screen, then diving to the hoop for a layup. This remains the best “screen play” in the league. It’s clever, I know. It’s really the only play that stands out, so the category had to be included.
Best Foreign Feature: A fairly sparse category for the conference, with lowly Northwestern sporting the most international lineup. Few global players have made much impact, with Indiana’s Ben Allen (Australia), Michigan State’s Idong Ibok (Nigeria) and Penn State’s Milos Bogetic (Serbia & Montenegro) making tangible contributions. The winner, almost by default, is Iowa’s Kurt Looby, from Antigua. The 6-10 junior leads the surprise Hawkeyes in rebounding and blocked shots.
Eddie Murphy Shocking Performance: So many nominees: MSU’s Goran Suton has come out of nowhere to make himself a viable offensive option. PSU’s Danny Morrissey hit six 3s in back-to-back games. But it’s Indiana, who’s had a slew of surprise contributors (Joey Shaw, Roderick Wilmont, Earl Calloway, Lance Stemler), that houses the winner. Freshman Armon Bassett, an unknown, has scored in double-digits in six of Indiana’s eight conference appearances, and has displayed senior-like poise in clutch situations.
“Little Miss Sunshine” Surprise Contender: Indiana has made a nice run, topped off by their solid win over Wisconsin Wednesday night, but most expected the Hoosiers to be in the top three or four. Wisconsin and Ohio State are the resident Scorseses and Eastwoods. And Michigan is just too inconsistent to take seriously. The Tenny goes to Iowa, for staying afloat and remaining alive in the postseason picture. With a nice road win at Michigan, the Hawkeyes improved to 4-4 in league play, sitting higher than previously mentioned Michigan, Illinois and Purdue in the standings.
Best Supporting Actor: Always an interesting category. Will the proven veterans, like Wisconsin's Kammron Taylor and Purdue's David Teague win as a sort of career achievement reward? Or will newcomers like Ohio State's Mike Conley, Jr. or Iowa's Tyler Smith inspire voters (I guess there's only one)? Penn State's Jamelle Cornley fits somewhere in the middle, and he takes home the mid-season honor. Alongside Geary Claxton, Cornley forms the most powerful forward combo in the conference. I'll ignore the defensive numbers. The Tennies are glamour awards anyway.
Best Director: It’s hard to argue against Wisconsin’s Bo Ryan, who’s managed a superstar while keeping the role players hungry. Ohio State’s Thad Matta has talent for sure, but he’s groomed it well. And Iowa’s Steve Alford has kept Iowa relevant, despite huge talent loss. But in his first season in the Big Ten, Indiana’s Kelvin Sampson has changed the identity of the Hoosiers and instilled toughness Mike Davis could not. Despite losing stud wing Robert Vaden, Indiana has sprung to the top of the conference picture.
Best Actor: Several nominees have proved worthy thus far, with Iowa's Adam Haluska leading the conference in scoring, Ohio State's Greg Oden dominating the glass and controlling the paint (with his off-hand), Carl Landry making a nice comeback for Purdue and Drew Neitzel single-handedly keeping Michigan State in the tournament hunt. But the Tenny goes to Wisconsin's Alando Tucker, who has shown the ability to take over tight contests while administering restraint to involve teammates.
Best Picture: This one, until Wednesday night, was not a tough call. But even after suffering their first loss of the conference season, Wisconsin gets the nod. The Badgers cleared a major hurdle by taking out second-place Ohio State in early January. With the leading star of the conference, a strong supporting cast and a proven director, Wisconsin has all the pieces.
Friday, January 26, 2007
Lost In Qwestlation
Last night, I learned the answer to that time-tested riddle: what is the most frustrating experience in the world? I can tell you now with complete certainty, it is dealing with the technical support staff of Qwest Communications.
I had internet problems. I have this nifty program called QwestCare (of course they do) that runs me in wizard-like fashion through a step-by-step process to determine the whereabouts of the problem. Once finished, it gives you a QwestCare Code, which it instructs you to present to a customer service representative. Code in hand, I dialed the number.
"Hello my name is __________, my badge number is __________, how may I assist you today."
"My internet isn't working."
"OK sir, what is your name"
"N-I-L-S"
"OK"
"H-O-E-G-E-R-(HYPHEN)L-E-R-D-A-L"
"THANK YOU, WHAT IS YOUR ADDRESS"
...on and on, no problem. They're checking my records.
Ten minutes...
"Sir?"
"Yes."
"Hello?"
"Yes, hi."
"Oh hi. Sir?"
"Yes?"
"I checked the records and I don't find an account. Let's run through your name again. Your first name is M-Y-L-F, yes?"
"No, it's an 'I.'"
"Oh, OK, M-Y-L-F-I"
"No, N, not M. N as in...I don't know, N."
"OK, N-Y-"
"No Y. I."
"N-I-L-F"
"N-I-L-S, S as in...skateboard?"
"F?"
"No, S as in Susan."
"Oh OK. Sir?"
"Yes."
"Last name?"
You get the idea. I was on the phone for nearly a half hour literally spelling out my name (with corresponding words that start with that letter--"L as in 'lord god help me," "G as in go @#%#@$ yourself") and address.
I was put on hold.
"Sir?"
"Yes."
"What is the telephone number of the account?"
"I don't have a telephone number."
"Oh. Well, I need that number in order to access your account."
"The only way I can get that number is to get online, and I can't get online because your internet isn't working. Don't you see the flaw in this system?"
"Can I put you on hold while I transfer to another department?"
Hold. After 45 minutes, I hung up. Got the number, and called back. An additional 45 minutes and several cord unpluggings and jostlings later, the techie decided to click a button, instantly fixing my problem.
"It looks like your connection is fully operating."
It literally takes 30 seconds.
Now, I was trying my best to stay calm and not take it out on the support people. It isn't their fault my internet isn't working. It isn't their fault they are working in Indonesia. It isn't their fault that Qwest hired them, knowing that their English isn't great, let alone audible. But it's still frustrating. Can't they have one person on staff purely for translation and comprehension emergencies? Someone to just speak the letters and numbers back plainly? I may sound a bit arrogant, but you weren't just called 'Mylfi.' The other thing that I found funny were the words they used to make it clear what letter they were saying. For example, if you were saying 'D,' wouldn't you say something like "D as in dog," making it completely obvious what letter it was? No, she says "D as in deer (could be dear)." Well I'm thinking she's saying "B as in beer." Another example: she says "P as in Paul." Again, I'm hearing "B as in ball." Think about the words you're using to clarify. Please. I can't take another night of MYLF jokes.
THAT'S OUR SPIRIT OF SERVICE IN ACTION.
I had internet problems. I have this nifty program called QwestCare (of course they do) that runs me in wizard-like fashion through a step-by-step process to determine the whereabouts of the problem. Once finished, it gives you a QwestCare Code, which it instructs you to present to a customer service representative. Code in hand, I dialed the number.
"Hello my name is __________, my badge number is __________, how may I assist you today."
"My internet isn't working."
"OK sir, what is your name"
"N-I-L-S"
"OK"
"H-O-E-G-E-R-(HYPHEN)L-E-R-D-A-L"
"THANK YOU, WHAT IS YOUR ADDRESS"
...on and on, no problem. They're checking my records.
Ten minutes...
"Sir?"
"Yes."
"Hello?"
"Yes, hi."
"Oh hi. Sir?"
"Yes?"
"I checked the records and I don't find an account. Let's run through your name again. Your first name is M-Y-L-F, yes?"
"No, it's an 'I.'"
"Oh, OK, M-Y-L-F-I"
"No, N, not M. N as in...I don't know, N."
"OK, N-Y-"
"No Y. I."
"N-I-L-F"
"N-I-L-S, S as in...skateboard?"
"F?"
"No, S as in Susan."
"Oh OK. Sir?"
"Yes."
"Last name?"
You get the idea. I was on the phone for nearly a half hour literally spelling out my name (with corresponding words that start with that letter--"L as in 'lord god help me," "G as in go @#%#@$ yourself") and address.
I was put on hold.
"Sir?"
"Yes."
"What is the telephone number of the account?"
"I don't have a telephone number."
"Oh. Well, I need that number in order to access your account."
"The only way I can get that number is to get online, and I can't get online because your internet isn't working. Don't you see the flaw in this system?"
"Can I put you on hold while I transfer to another department?"
Hold. After 45 minutes, I hung up. Got the number, and called back. An additional 45 minutes and several cord unpluggings and jostlings later, the techie decided to click a button, instantly fixing my problem.
"It looks like your connection is fully operating."
It literally takes 30 seconds.
Now, I was trying my best to stay calm and not take it out on the support people. It isn't their fault my internet isn't working. It isn't their fault they are working in Indonesia. It isn't their fault that Qwest hired them, knowing that their English isn't great, let alone audible. But it's still frustrating. Can't they have one person on staff purely for translation and comprehension emergencies? Someone to just speak the letters and numbers back plainly? I may sound a bit arrogant, but you weren't just called 'Mylfi.' The other thing that I found funny were the words they used to make it clear what letter they were saying. For example, if you were saying 'D,' wouldn't you say something like "D as in dog," making it completely obvious what letter it was? No, she says "D as in deer (could be dear)." Well I'm thinking she's saying "B as in beer." Another example: she says "P as in Paul." Again, I'm hearing "B as in ball." Think about the words you're using to clarify. Please. I can't take another night of MYLF jokes.
THAT'S OUR SPIRIT OF SERVICE IN ACTION.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
First Music Post of 2007
We're under way. 2007. And there's some new music out there. Two discs came out this week that piqued my interest. The Shins' highly-anticipated "Wincing the Night Away" and Menomena's "Friend & Foe." I enjoyed the Shins' first single, "Phantom Limb," quite a bit and am looking forward to teasing through the entire album. I wasn't a huge Shins fan prior to this record, and from what I've read, that will let me enjoy it more, as it has been labeled a classic departure-from-the-fan-favorite-roots CD. That's ok with me. To all those Shins fans (Rachel), I hope you enjoy this CD, and if you don't, I've been there. But let me still like it. I don't know much about Menomena, but I've read in more than one place that it's the first great indie (whatever that means/is worth anyway) record of the year. They also represent the same record label as They Might Be Giants, Starlight Mints, Rilo Kiley, Nada Surf, Death Cab For Cutie, and yes, Harvey Danger. Good sign.
Aside from those two, not much has blown me away yet. But I am anticipating a CD-rackful of upcoming releases. Here are the top 20.
20. The Magic Numbers, "Those The Brokes" (February 20)
19. Stereophonics, TBA (no date) 18. Rilo Kiley, TBA (Spring)
17. Sondre Lerche, "Phantom Punch" (February 6)
16. The Clientele, "God Save the Clientele" (no date)
15. The Thrills, TBA (no date)
14. I'm From Barcelona, TBA (March 20)
13. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, "Some Loud Thunder" (February 30)
12. Rufus Wainwright, TBA (May)
11. Idlewild, "Make Another World" (February)
10. The Doves, TBA (summer/fall)
9. Roxy Music, TBA (April)
8. Ted Leo & the Pharmacists, "Living With the Living" (March 20)
7. The Go! Team, TBA (August)
6. Band of Horses, TBA (no date)
5. Common, "Finding Forever (March??)
4. Bloc Party, "A Weekend In the City," (February 6
3. Wilco, "Sky Blue Sky," (May 15)
2. The New Pornographers, TBA (no date)
1. The Arcade Fire, "Neon Bible" (March 6)
I'm hesitant to expect much from U2, Kanye West and Coldplay. I'm quite sure, actually, that I will dislike Coldplay quite a bit. I'm willing to give Kanye a shot if he ditches the high-pitched chipmunk sample. And U2? I mean, reserve the Grammy.
One more music note. For those of you who haven't heard GUNTHER, it is a must. Let me know if you want a CD.
Aside from those two, not much has blown me away yet. But I am anticipating a CD-rackful of upcoming releases. Here are the top 20.
20. The Magic Numbers, "Those The Brokes" (February 20)
19. Stereophonics, TBA (no date) 18. Rilo Kiley, TBA (Spring)
17. Sondre Lerche, "Phantom Punch" (February 6)
16. The Clientele, "God Save the Clientele" (no date)
15. The Thrills, TBA (no date)
14. I'm From Barcelona, TBA (March 20)
13. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, "Some Loud Thunder" (February 30)
12. Rufus Wainwright, TBA (May)
11. Idlewild, "Make Another World" (February)
10. The Doves, TBA (summer/fall)
9. Roxy Music, TBA (April)
8. Ted Leo & the Pharmacists, "Living With the Living" (March 20)
7. The Go! Team, TBA (August)
6. Band of Horses, TBA (no date)
5. Common, "Finding Forever (March??)
4. Bloc Party, "A Weekend In the City," (February 6
3. Wilco, "Sky Blue Sky," (May 15)
2. The New Pornographers, TBA (no date)
1. The Arcade Fire, "Neon Bible" (March 6)
I'm hesitant to expect much from U2, Kanye West and Coldplay. I'm quite sure, actually, that I will dislike Coldplay quite a bit. I'm willing to give Kanye a shot if he ditches the high-pitched chipmunk sample. And U2? I mean, reserve the Grammy.
One more music note. For those of you who haven't heard GUNTHER, it is a must. Let me know if you want a CD.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
