Quick Capsule Review: “Sin City”

“The coolest film of the year” it may be, but that doesn’t stop it being a tedious bag of shit. Bring me the head of Robert Rodriguez!

Ulysses Speaks: currently showing issues 2, 3 and 4.

I now have proof that computers are bad for you, work isn’t fun and I’m not invincible, as my doctor this week confirmed I have RSI. So apologies if diskant seems quiet but I’m trying to cut down on my computer usage. The Reviewsblog is being updated regularly though so don’t leave us! I don’t have the really scary kind of RSI so I hope to be better soon.

I’m not sure if this is RSI-related but I seem to be listening to an awful lot of pop music at the moment. I don’t think my aim when buying an iPod was to find myself listening to Girls Aloud while the on-bus TV screen was playing, er, Girls Aloud.

It’s not all bad news though as Nintendo have finally built the theme park I’ve been building in my head for years – PokéPark! I want to go to this so badly I could cry but sadly it’s in Nagoya, Japan. It has Pokémon merry-go-rounds and Pikachu shaped cars! Kill me now.

Okay, back to my non-computer fun. I am learning how to use a drum machine and relearning how to draw. By the end of the summer I expect to have formed a terrible solo project and written a new actual paper-based zine. Wish me luck.

I now have proof that computers are bad for you, work isn’t fun and I’m not invincible, as my doctor this week confirmed I have RSI. So apologies if diskant seems quiet but I’m trying to cut down on my computer usage. The Reviewsblog is being updated regularly though so don’t leave us! I don’t have the really scary kind of RSI so I hope to be better soon.

I’m not sure if this is RSI-related but I seem to be listening to an awful lot of pop music at the moment. I don’t think my aim when buying an iPod was to find myself listening to Girls Aloud while the on-bus TV screen was playing, er, Girls Aloud.

It’s not all bad news though as Nintendo have finally built the theme park I’ve been building in my head for years – PokéPark! I want to go to this so badly I could cry but sadly it’s in Nagoya, Japan. It has Pokémon merry-go-rounds and Pikachu shaped cars! Kill me now.

Okay, back to my non-computer fun. I am learning how to use a drum machine and relearning how to draw. By the end of the summer I expect to have formed a terrible solo project and written a new actual paper-based zine. Wish me luck.

1999 was released in February 1983. It’s a pop classic, and sold millions.
Come, pretty much a contractual obligation album, was released in August 1994. It flopped.

“Coyote began playing flute after having a dream about living in a renaissance world where sorcery and sex destroyed a kingdom.” So begins the press release for ‘Level 1′ – the debut album by American Zen – “America’s first Buddhist Rock Band”.
Ageing frontman Coyote is a Spanish-guitar-strummin’, flute-tootin’, self-styled folk mystic. With a trailerpark haircut. After leaving school, Coyote hitchhiked across North America with only a harmonica and a Bowie knife. The songs on this album are apparently true-stories of Coyote’s conflicts with Mormons(!). The songs on this album make you wish that all of those nasty hitchhiker horror stories were true. (Queasy Mormon-baiting flute-pop aside, there is also a selection of eleven poems (mainly) about children.)
Over the years, Coyote has played with Mick Fleetwood, Badfinger, Supertramp and Frank Zappa; whilst ex-bandmates have joined bands like The Eagles and Chicago. Is he bitter? Hell, no! Who needs cash, coke and album charts when you’ve got a song called ‘Whose Heaven Is This?’ that “features ukulele by Rory G.”? Eat your heart out, Les McQueen.
I’ll allow Coyote the last word: “I probably could be in a big name band myself, but that’s not my path. I’ve got my own stories to tell. Nothing’s better than sharing your creativity and getting some applause for it.”
‘Keep creating Coyote. We’ll keep clapping.’*

www.americanzen.org

*Not my words…

This is the eponymous second album from Jersey’s old-skool punk die-hards Bulletproof. It’s rough-around-the-edges and a bit clumsy in places, but, i’ll wager Bulletproof are probably the most exciting thing to happen to Jersey since Bergerac hung up his bomber jacket. They attack the usual worthy punk-rock targets (and spit plenty of venom in Dubya’s direction) but, with their re-heated Clash-isms, Bulletproof don’t really do anything that Rancid didn’t do much better ten years ago. Still, Rancid are punk-rock millionaires and don’t really need your support. Unless they are being bankrolled by fictional millionaire Charlie Hungerford (Terence Alexander), Bulletproof probably DO need your support. They’re not going to set the world on fire, but, in all fairness, who actually wants to set the world on fire?!

www.bulletproofonline.co.uk

This is the first Sub Pop release I’ve heard for a whole bunch of years.
I thought the label might have moved on a little from the stodgy pub rock of the early 90’s, but oh no.

This is yet another three-piece playing 1st graders rock’n’roll.
We listened to it in the car this afternoon and it was only seeing the track counter move on that gave us any idea that we were listening to different songs. It’s that staid.

Unimaginative bass rumbles, erm, rumble, guitars slash half-heartedly, the drummer keeps a nice and steady 4 beat and the singer has discovered one tune which, when half spoken, can work throughout any Thermals composition.

Sub Pop always promised so much more.

Devo a la Nippon, anyone?
Polysics are self confessed Devo-tees. But their music is not Devo-by-numbers.
Not by a long chalk.
For sure, the influence is there in the construction of the songs but Polysics are so much more than that.
This album compiles songs from their 4 or 5 albums and numerous EPs (mainly released through Sony Japan) – a kinda ‘Best Of’ or ‘Introduction to’ I suppose.
There’s something about the way Japanese bands use Western Pop, bastardise Western Pop, transform Western Pop.
It’s been talked about so many times before that I needn’t bore you with the details. Needless to say this album excited me from beginning to end. There’s the rush of Melt Banana at top speed, the sonic blasts of Merzbow when the sun’s shining, and the bangs, shouts and yelps of pleasure spread across Jap-Pop hooks that make me want to jump up and down.
I’d never heard Polysics before, but I’ve been instantly converted.
The nearest Western Pop band that comes to mind, if you want a marker for this record, is probably Ultrabra.
Topping the whole thing off is a vocoder driven cover of “My Sharona”. It needs to be heard to be believed.
Absolute noisey pop bliss.

Wow, my fist review for Diskant. Pretty exciting eh? Well no.
Rather it seems I have been cunningly duped by Marceline into listening to an album I would slap my own mother for even looking at in a shop.
‘Supernova’ by Liquid Blue is a truly dismal record by a band who represent the very antithesis of creativity, heart and rock n’ roll.
Hailing from San Diego, Liquid Blue (eh?) appear to be the brainchild of Raw Power Magazine co-founder Scott Stevens, who also happens to be a fully qualified financial advisor. So right away you see what kind of band they are. This guy is David Brent with a big trust fund.
The band, anything from a 7 to a 17 piece affair boast drums by Josh ‘funky cold’ Medina and ‘turntable’ by someone called ‘Big Dude’. I’m really not joking. I would have at least added monkeys.
Popular on the USO scene in the states, the band’s fan base seems to be dribbling Alabama soldiers impressed by the 3 not-cynically-included-at-all ‘purty’ female singers.

In short (and it really does deserve to be), this is a dreadful mixture of directionless, bland soft rock music, mixed up and corrupted new age philosophy, faux social concern, kindergarten political comment and robust sporty girls. Oh yeah, and 4 not so robust 40 something guys, trying to look anything but their age. The only interesting question this album raises for me is:

What is it about soft rock and aerobic sportswear?

A small tip Liquid Blue (Fuck, that is the worst name for a band ever). Most bands who pretend to “care about the planet” and insist upon foisting their vapid concerns on the public tend not to list their surfboard and wetsuit sponsorships on the back of their albums. Yes, I like to surf while I shed a tear for the little children too, but I’m not sure the others will understand like I do.

I suppose I’d better comment on the actual record. Right, hold your nose.

1) Kashmir – Jesus, where to start? This toothless affair blends a painful mishmash of musical themes and a weak male lead vocal to very little effect.

2) Show me Love – No.

3) If You Gotta Ask – I do I’m afraid, and the question is why, sweet Jesus, why?

4) Supernova – This track implores me to do the “Bossa-supernova”. Oh my fucking God. This is the best track so far by miles.

5) Pretend – More cod ‘Arabian Knights’ pish as the intro. Really guys? Every single tune? Who sold you on that idea? This track is called pretend. I’m going to pretend I was a pro and listened to it all.

6) Rhythm of Love – Without wishing to incur the wrath of The Weathergirls, this sounds a bit like ‘It’s Raining Men’ but not in a good way. Listening to this made me want to strangle my sleeping child.

7) Real – Oh my God. For fuck sake stop letting the keyboard player do Indian/Arabian/Romancing the Stone soundtrack intros!!!!!! AHHHHH! What, do you owe this clown money or something? Just stop it! This sounds like a Britney Spears track remixed by a funky sheik. I know that sort of sounds good. Believe me, this isn’t.

8) Rescue – Once again, sitar/pan pipe Easterny intro. I want to go into a health food store and kill everyone. Once again, the sitar/pan pipe Easterny intro has nothing to do with the pappy American ultra soft rock song it fades into.
This is the best actual song on the album. If done on a piano by someone with an ounce of class or sensitivity it might just be shite. Lyrics include references to something called “Pair-adise” and “when will we rescue the sea?” Anyone still doubt God is dead?

9) Arms of Love – All I can tell you about this one, as I lasted exactly 23 seconds, is that it sounds like Afghanistan’s version of Moby on Top Deck and Mum’s out of date valium.

10) Give Me Back My Heart – Go on! Mibbe she’ll shut up then! Once again, sub-Destiny’s Child garbage to give the tot, I mean talented female vocalists, a chance to shine.

11) Can’t Stop It – And we so wish you could.
ENOUGH WITH THE FUCKING INTROS!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It’s hard to believe these people truly imagine that their spray-on, transparently fake concern translates into even mildly diverting lyrical content. This one, about being a couch potato while all around “people” “suffer”, is akin to being lectured on ethics by an aerobics instructor.
Coupled as it is with music that sounds as if it’s been recorded alongside an unrelated advert for a curry house, this track made for as harrowing an experience as my creaking constitution has experienced in many a long year.

12, 13, 14) Fuck it. I can stand no more. I remove the offending disc as I would a piss-stained vagrant from my favourite armchair. You can’t make me listen to the rest so there.

America. If you really want to know where Osama Bin Ladin is hiding, try slapping this baby on the Guantanamo Bay playlist.

Click here to observe the pointless tragedy.