brainsplotch

On Friday, I binge-watched the Amazon Prime four-part, four plus hour documentary, The Tragically Hip: No Dress Rehearsal . I fully intended on watching maybe just one or two episodes on Friday (the day it dropped), and saving the final two episodes for later...but who was I kidding? I would also like to say I watched all four episodes without getting deeply emotional and tearing up every ten minutes...but--once again--who am I kidding? I learned a lot about the band that I didn't know, probably because the Hip have been so private over the years. A couple things stand out: When Gord Downie insisted on being the sole lyricist, the other guys were way more put-out by it than I ever knew. It sounds like it took them a while to get over that.  The band went through a good decade-plus (roughly 2000-2012) in which they weren't getting along and were close to breaking up. It makes sense that they had rough patches, but as I said, they have always been so guarded that I (and probably ...

One of the best aspects of a relaxing vacation is that I get to catch up on reading. I can't tell you how wonderful it is to read during the daytime in a screened-in porch with Lake Superior as my "front yard." It beats the hell out of not getting to the book until 10 PM after eight hours of work and often falling asleep less than half an hour after cracking the book open. Weeks ago, I started reading Chris Stein's Under a Rock-- his memoir of his life before, during, and after Blondie (the band). It was a book that I'd pick up in the late evenings and almost immediately crash and burn before I made it more than about 15 minutes. I am happy to report that I shot through 184 pages in three days. I read on the porch of this cottage in Copper Harbor and I read on our 7 1/2 hours on the ferry to and from Isle Royale. The meandering storytelling style was a major part of my inability to get into Chris Stein's memoir. The book could have easily been titled, Everythi...

I initially thought that I would listen to Prince & the Revolution's Purple Rain , jot down my observations, and then write about the album (like a real record review). However, I have heard this album so many times and have such a deep connection to it, that I decided this probably wasn't necessary. For this post, I will simply write about my personal experience with the album. And really, who needs yet another review of Purple Rain , anyway? In late spring of 1984--I can't remember the month, but it must have been either late May or early June because I swear I was still in school--I turned on the tiny black & white television in my room to an afternoon music video show. I don't remember what this show was called or what channel it was on, but it was about a half-hour long. It was on this show that I first saw the video for Purple Rain 's leadoff single, "When Doves Cry." All these years later, it's hard to remember exactly what I felt upon h...

So, after years of only seeing dribs and drabs of David Lynch's  Blue Velvet  over the years, I finally watched the whole movie on Tubi. Before I have my opinions skewed and altered by whatever film podcast I listen to or film review I read, here are my instant, unvarnished reactions. This film fits perfectly in the noir tradition. There's the young male protagonist (Kyle MacLachlan) who is in over his head, the femme fatale (Isabella Rossellini) with secrets, plenty of bad guys headed by one major bad guy (Dennis Hopper), and an ingenue (Laura Dern) to offer some contrast to the femme fatale. This being a Lynch movie, however, there's plenty of weird shit one would never see in any golden era noir. This is a noir with avant garde sensibilities. It was never entirely clear to me what nefarious activities Frank Booth (Hopper) was up to, other than it involved a shady cop (or cops). It is abundantly clear, though, that Frank Booth is one of the scariest and most disturbing vi...