Is this from Raekwon's next album? I dunno, but if it is, and if the rest of the joints on it are as sharp as this RZA-laced track, we may be looking at that Wu-Tang resurgence I said would never happen.
http://www.artofrhyme.com/audio/raekwon_state.ram
The track is called 'State of Grace'.
Keeping with the "Blind black musical icons" theme:
I was browsing the aisles at the Evan record store in the COEX mall while killing some time in Seoul this morning. I tend to buy CDs on impulse, basing that impulse on either name recognition, or not thinking the artist(s) in question sucks donkey balls. I'd never randomly buy a Kelly Clarkson CD, for instance. And I rarely wander into the K-Pop section of the store.
I almost picked up a Ramones compilation, but I remembered that I already had the same CD a few years ago and sold it after I got bored with it. I also remembered that the Ramones are the band spaztic poseur punk-rockers like. Y'know, like how some kids claim they love 50 Cent because he's "real"? Yeah, it's a shame because they were a fun little band, but sometimes the fans of something ruin it.
For example: Witness the Star Wars picture below.
But I needed iPod fodder, and I wasn't going to leave Seoul until I got it. 
Stevie Wonder... He's one of those guys like James Brown who, back in the early days of hip-hop, would be sampled endlessly. The beats he created back in the 70s for some of the best soul/ funk music of the era are still used today. He was an innovator, an originator, and made some excellent damned music like Superstition, Living for The City, and Higher Ground.
Then he did that song for that movie... You know THAT song. The one that made an entire generation of music listeners hate him. With the "...called to say, I..." Yeah, that one.
But, Musiquarium is one of my favorite collections, so I figured I'd make his new one, A Time To Love, my latest sacrifice to the iPod.
It wasn't too bad. There were a few too many songs that sounded like they were out of the cheeziest Vegas lounge act ever, but the tracks that worked the best were the ones that were a bit of a throwback to his work in the 70s. Now that I'm older and wiser, I no longer assume that he's just mining an old vein looking for new gold. Like last year's Duran Duran and Prince CDs, or Johnny Cash's final four discs, this is just a guy who's totaly relaxed and making the music he likes to make. And in that respect, the CD works well.
So if you like yourself some classic Stevie, this wouldn't be a bad record to add to your collection. Otherwise, download or pass on it.
Ray Charles was a genius, and it's a relief that Taylor Hackford's biopic doesn't waste any time trying to explain why he was one. Because that'd be as foolish as trying to explain why water is wet. Instead, it shows as faithfully as possible, warts and all, the road this genius' career took, and how he fared. As a Hollywood biopic -- the tendency of which is to make everything fit as smoothly as liquid in a container -- it misses its mark, slightly; but I hope that was intentional, because, as an honest portrait of the real man, it's a lot more accurate (and interesting) than most of the "reasonable hand-drawn facsimile" biopics we're usually offered. The film doesn't come right out and say so, but many viewers will be faced with the realization that Ray Charles as a man wasn't a very nice guy. He's never a downright bastard, but, like most musical geniuses (and most people, for that matter), we get the impression that he cared very little, at least in his early career as an artist and husband, about anyone but himself. In fact, the only reason we give a damn about him is because he was an amazing musician; and because his blindness made him an underdog, and we always root for the underdog. The film's honesty is refreshing, even if it leaves us a bit cold by its conclusion.
That doesn't necessarily mean it's a better film than, for example, The Aviator, a biopic that takes a ton of liberties and glosses over some of the more reproachful aspects of its subject, but is ultimately a more enjoyable picture...though it's unfair to compare Hackford to Scorsese, which is tantamount to comparing apples to pterodactyl testicles (you thought I was gonna write oranges, didn't you?). It does make it a more candid picture, however.
Certainly, Jamie Foxx's portrayal of Ray Charles is the number two reason (number one being Charles's remarkable life) the film is so engaging. If Foxx's impersonation were to come off as too blatant, too much of a caricature, the entire film would have suffered. Thankfully, Foxx pulls it off terrifically. He's in A-plus form here, subtle when others would choose to be overt, and it's easy to see why he won the Best Actor Oscar for this role. The rest of the cast is wonderful, too. Watching the film, I was both pleased and saddened by this, because it's so rare that such an ensemble of fine black actors is together in a great film like this, which is too bad. The fetching Kerry Washington is particularly impressive as Charles's first wife, Della Bea Robinson. Other notable performances are from Terrence Dashon Howard (who apparently is the nicest guy in real life, but looks like a dangerous, malicious bastard in every role I've seen him in), Larenz Tate (the black Ralph Macchio), Bokeem Woodbine, Regina King, Sharon Warren (whom I swear used to be on the Cosby Show during its final years, although the Internet Movie Database lists this film and another -- Glory Road, set to be released in 2006 -- as her only credits), Curtis Armstrong (Booger from Revenge of the Nerds!), and literally dozens more. I was a little disappointed that one of the Atlantic studio engineers was not in fact Judd Nelson, however. That guy looks exactly like JL! Check out the movie and tell me I'm wrong.
Hackford's direction is above-average, though by no means the most notable thing about the picture. His use of what is obviously stock footage to show city scenes is pretty annoying, and there are two borderline cringe-worthy scenes that should have been cut out of the film or at least better realized. The first is a scene in a diner where Ray, courting Della Bea, points out to her that he can hear the sound a hummingbird is making just outside of an open window. It's corny, and it doesn't help that the hummingbird is a very poor CGI. The second comes near the end of the film, while Ray is in rehab and experiencing heroin withdrawl. There's an awful series of nightmarish flashback shots that look as though they were teleported into the film from a teen slasher flick. Also, the film bafflingly claims that Ray Charles's biggest achievement was getting Georgia to lift its lifetime ban on him performing there, and having the state adopt 'Georgia On My Mind' as its state song. I think Charles's musical legacy is a far greater accomplishment than being exonerated for challenging Georgia's racist Jim Crow laws, although it must have been pretty cool to have one of your songs become a state's anthem -- though, if I had my druthers, the song would be REM's 'Orange Crush'.
Another minor gripe is that the film wraps up far too abruptly. The DVD comes with an extended version, which is probably closer to Hackford's vision, and which hopefully doesn't rush towards its conclusion so quickly. I'm not kidding when I say I wouldn't have minded if the film, already 2 1/2 hours long, were an hour or so longer, if only so that we could see Jamie Foxx singing 'You Got The Right Thing Baby' in a Pepsi commercial (I am kidding on that one). I'll try to write a mini-review of the extended version if I ever get around to watching it.
I suspect that, just like Ray Charles, this film will be remembered most for its music, which remains with the viewer long after the film is over. For a biopic of such a gifted musician, that's probably how it should be.
Note: most of this review was written before I read about Richard Pryor passing. I hope that, when the inevitable Pryor biopic is made, it is as great and as honest a depiction as Ray is. It at least has to be better than Jo Jo Dancer, Your Life Is Calling.
David Stern has again taken it to a completely 'nother level:
http://sports.espn.go.com/nba/news/story?id=2251724
So players can't wear shorts considered too baggy by Stern and Co. I bet it's because dude misses seeing their tight buns and strapping thighs. Because he's all Brokeback Mountain and shit.
Here's a real (imagined and fictional) argument recorded between Stern, New York Knicks cancer Stephon Marbury, and Ricky Davis:
On weekends, the wife, little girl, and I often visit the Kyobo book center, where we pick up books and educational material for the 18th letter, and I invariably wind up buying a bunch of new books and DVDs. Asking me to merely window shop in a place that sells books and movies is like asking a nymphomaniac to stop touching penises: it's simply impossible, much to my wife's chagrin (me buying DVDs and books, not nymphos' penis-touching predilection, just to be clear). The problem is that I have so many unread books cluttering my shelves, and a fair amount of films I haven't gotten around to watching; and, like that fish in the children's story by Helen Palmer and P.D. Eastman, it keeps growing at a frightening rate. Because I have so little time, what with work, parenting, and dancing at gay bars in Itaewon. All kidding aside, it's pretty easy to write a blog entry late at night (late for me, at least), but having a chance to sit down and watch a movie, undisturbed, or to read more than 20 pages of a novel, is pretty hard with my schedule. I usually manage to watch a DVD on Friday nights, but even if I watched a new one every Friday for a year, I'm afraid I still will not have watched every movie in my A Fish Out Of Water collection.
And then we have our bonus features . Should I just quit work? Because that's what it would take for me to have any hope of seeing all the cool (but usually mundane and shitty) stuff they pack discs with these days. I realize this kind of stuff wouldn't bother a normal person, but I have this weird OCD-level inclination to finish everything I start. If I don't, I feel like a failure. This character trait helped motivate me to earn honors at university, but, I'm ashamed to admit, if applied to watching DVD bonus features and slogging through directors' commentaries, I'm a total slack-ass.
Of course, this is a small gripe in the big picture that is my life. the little one grows smarter and cuter by the nanosecond; the relationship I share with my wife ages (tired cliche alert!) like a fine wine; and I, the 23-year-old (*snicker*) wunderkind with a killer smile, continue to mature. Everything considered, I'm walking on air.
Still, I'm dying to hear the John Carpenter and Kurt Russell Anschauung of their work on Big Trouble In Little China. I fear I will not rest peacefully until I do.
The year is drawing to a close, and I'm handing out awards like Paris Hilton is handing out VD. Some are serious, others less so. More awards will be handed out in the next few weeks. I think.
Best Movie I've Seen This Year Award: The Aviator
Best New Book I've Read This Year Award: Vernon God Little by DBC Pierre. I was actually slightly disappointed when I finished it, but it has come to grow on me.
Biggest Obsession and Waste of Time Award: my quest to become the Ms. Pac-Man champion at Expatinkorea.com (http://expatinkorea.com/forum/index.php?act=Arcade&do=stats&gameid=39). I hope nobody beats it, because if someone does I'm likely to waste another 3 months trying to regain my title.
Best Hip-Hop Record of the Year Award: The Documentary by The Game. I can't front: even though the subject matter no longer interests me, it has incredible beats, and the rhymes are none too shabby, either.
Best Rock Record of the Year Award: Frances The Mute by The Mars Volta.
Most Guilty Pleasure That Involves The Internet Award: http://xiaxue.blogspot.com/
Funniest Movie I've Seen This Year Award: Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle. At times it ventures a little too far into gross-out/stupid territory, but Neil Patrick Harris (don't front on NPH) and riding a stoned cheetah make up for it.
Most Winning Smile Award: you have seen the subject of most of the photos on this blog, right?
Best Meal Concocted By My Better Half Award: Budae Tchigae that has to be laced with crack or something.
Biggest WTF Moment of the Year Award: Shirley Temple is still alive and Toni Kukoc still plays basketball (tie).
Stupidest Name For a Kid Award (aka The "There should be some sort of diploma you have to receive to become a parent" Award): Toshiro Lucas McWeeney.
Hot Korean Actress Award (Newcomer): Kim Ah-Jung
Hot Korean Actress Award (Ajumma): Kim Hye-Soo (stay sexy, baby)
Hot Korean Despot Award: Kim Jong-Il
Another busy week. In between work, fatherhood, and getting a certain Internet psychopath's website shut down (it turns out there ARE nightlights in Hell -- big fucking ones), I've been reading The Brothers Karamazov for the umpteenth time, watching a flick here and there (The Polar Express is great if you have kids. Trust me), and, whenever I can manage, sitting on my ass, daydreaming about Mandy Moore having a pillow fight with Jennifer Garner.
I apologize for both the lack and brevity of my postings of late. However, I do have The Man and The Myth, William (O)G, at the 4, and debonair denz should be blessing us with his welcome presence any day now. And that's not all: Andy Rooney has expressed his desire to get on board. Hopefully he doesn't die first; I'm anticipating his take on how hard bags of potato chips are to open these days.
For now, here are some Friday Night Lights:
1) So my Franz Ferdinand CD comes with a DVD. Cool. Yesterday I finally have a chance to check it out, only to find that the DVD is region 1, even though it was printed and manufactured in Korea (which is region 3). Go figure. I was able to watch it on my PS2, though, so not a total loss. My biggest complaint being the videos, interviews etc. all have an annoying border around them, which can't be very good for the plasma, I would surmise.
2) Busta Rhymes has cut his dreadlocks. Stop the fucking presses! You can watch it by following the link, but be forewarned: it is extremely gay. And stupid.
http://boss.streamos.com/wmedia/interscope/bustarhymes/video/cuts_his_dread.asx
3) If anyone knows an indoor gym in Bundang in which to play basketball, e-mail me immediately. I will be eternally grateful.
4) Do yourself a favor and check out Brother Reade's 'Crushed by a Truck'. Absolutely killer song. I can't believe it took me so long to discover it. I discovered it like Columbus discovered America, by the way.
5) If the Lohan Freestyle (apparently MIA from http://www.lohanfreestyle.com) was Illmatic, http://www.joliehomewrecker.com/ is surely It Was Written.
6) Pro tip: don't do like I did earlier today and cook buldak mandu and eat it before using paper towels to absorb the oil. Trust me. I felt like Davey Hogan (from Stand By Me) at the pie-eat. Chow down, wide load.
7) I wanna let allllll y'all niggaz know in here tonight that this is that Wu-Tang shit. This that shit that's gonna get you high. See, when you stimulate your own mind for one common cause, you see who's the real motherfuckers. See what you see is you what you see. Be the original G rhymin' on timin' and in the place to be. They love see meeeeeeee!
Ahem.
Now that I've bitched about dorks, allow me to be one myself.
Here's a cut n paste from my own blog about ten webcomics that I happen to think are decent bits of reading entertainemt. And I figured that I'd spread the word around a bit since this here blog caters to a different sort of clientele than mine. Feel free to give them a looksee. You may find something you enjoy, or you may not.
I hold no responsibility for not meeting your expectations.
Mind if I bitch about a pet peeve of mine?
TOO LATE!
I like comics. I like to read them. I like write about them. And I like to draw them. I could probably be easily tagged as a geek, and I suppose that's a fair cop.
But I don't think they're real. And they're not so important to me that I'd view anyone who doesn't like them with an unquenchable hatred that will burn like the stars in the sky for a near eternity. They're a passtime. A form of enterntainment that I enjoy. And I can enjoy them without being a psychopath about it.
So, why can't so many folks do the same with their entertainments?
Now, I don't know about you, but I find spending hundreds or even thousands of dollars to make a plus-sized stormtrooper costume with the sole aim of impressing other fellows in plus-sized stormtrooper costumes just a damned bit... insane. I admit that I don't know if the people above are insane or not, but given the sort of crazy-assed emails I've gotten over the last year or so from fans of a certain videogame webcomic I shat on for sucking beyond my tolerance, I'd be willing to bet at least one dollar (Canadian!) they're a few basements shy of the sunlight...If yah get my meaning.
I've been there, I know how seductively cult-like that lifestyle is, so I'm not hating on them. But being obsessed with your pop culture entertainments to the point it takes over your life: It's called being a fanboy. A fanboy is kinda like a porno in that they're hard to legally define, but you know one when you see it. Fanboys come in all stripes and walks of life. They just have to be obsessed with something like comics, or videogames, or pro-wrestling to the point it damages their ability to interact with regular people. The anonymity of the internet just makes them more extreme about it.
So, I beg you... If you know someone like that, try to get them help. Or at least try to keep them from constantly annoying me while I read the internet. Out of my sight is happily out of my mind.
Thank you.
