My Toy Story (Inspired by 'Toy Story 3')

‘Toy Story 3’
Film Review
By Anthony Kuzminski

At almost two hours, Toy Story 3 is a exuberant romp of fun full with Woody and Buzz coming to terms with their owner growing up as they try and find where they belong. It has more adventure than any of the so-called summer live-action blockbusters, the character development is rich and the humor and script are spot-on. Amazingly, Pixar continues to deliver the goods, year after year, film after film. Every other Hollywood studio could learn something from their simplistic palette where everyone from 3 to 83 finds enjoyment in their films. The basic premise of Toy Story 3 finds Andy, the toys owner, getting ready to go to college. What does he do with the toys? Take them with him? Throw them out? Sell them? Or banish them to the attic? The story is so straightforward but there’s genius in its effortlessness. For the first 80-minutes, I would have ranked it a tad lower than the first two films, but then came the final 30-minutes. Have no fear; I won’t post any spoilers here. If you’re interested in the specifics of the ending you can check out Owen Lieberman’s great column over at Entertainment Weekly, “Message to men: Yes, it's okay to cry at Toy Story 3”. But the final act of the film brought the whole trilogy full circle.

As the film made its way to its conclusion, I slowly became a slobbering tearful mess. Why? Hop on the ride and I’ll tell you. Some of my earliest childhood memories are tied to the toys I loved and played with. I was born into the age of Star Wars and I vividly remember seeing a toy commercial for the action figures during cartoons and running to my parents asking for one. I don’t remember the specific age, but I believe I was around three years old. A few weeks later (it may have been days, my memory is good, but it’s not that good), my parents had something behind their back and handed over the Luke Skywalker in his X-Wing gear. I was thrilled beyond words and that began my love affair with Kenner action figures which instigated my journey of collecting which has followed me all throughout my life. By the time Kenner stopped making the figures in 1986, I had virtually all of the action figures. Even when I became obsessed with baseball cards and sports, I still collected the newest figures and was missing approximately seven of the nearly one-hundred figures at the end of their run.

The ending of Toy Story 3 is more than a nostalgia ride or a reminder of simpler times gone by; it’s a confirmation of who I am, where I’ve been and where I hope to be one day. When I look at my Luke Skywalker X-Wing figure today, he flesh colored hands have turned to orange, his white helmet has lost its sheen and it looks as if it has been through a war. I don’t see a battle worn action figure inducing warm memories of my youth so much as I see it as a symbol of the love and sacrifice my parents made for me. Action figures never broke the bank for them, but I was passionate about them and wanted to collect every last one. For good grades, good behavior and sometimes just out of love, they would search high and low for the figures I wanted. Years later I would hear about how my mother would get on a ladder at the local Toys R Us digging all the way to the back looking for the latest and hard-to-find figure that proved to be elusive. They would stop on their way home from work, when running errands or make a special trip to help me search. As I am now older, I realize how much time these tiny errands take and yet they often searched everywhere for the missing figure I needed. They never took luxurious vacations, had the latest inventions, only bought a new car once a decade and never had a vacation home, but my sister and I were given items you can’t put a dollar amount on. They sent us through private Catholic schools from kindergarten through college. They gave us their time with homework, projects and every year, no matter what, Christmas and our respective birthdays were great celebrations that made us feel unique and special. They sacrificed and provided in ways I pray I can do for my daughter. Times have changed and things are quite different and it scares me I won’t be able to do the same things for her. She has this tiny elephant head she sleeps with every night that proves to be a source of comfort for her. When she wakes up in the middle of the night from a bad dream, she cradles it. When she’s upset from teething, she caresses it against the side of her head and when she’s teething, well, let me stop while I am ahead. One day she will love something as much as I loved my Star Wars figures. The toughest ones proved to be the newest Han Solo and Luke Skywalker figures. My parents magically seemed to find them for me before anyone else had them and gave them at the right opportunities. I had a horrible throat infection and was just feeling down until one day my Dad came home with the Bespin Luke Skywalker. My Mom managed to find the Jedi Luke Skywalker for me right when Return of the Jedi came out.

One of the most vivid memories I have was when a girl in the first grade purposely broke off the head of my Han Solo Hoth figure. I remained controlled until I got home where I proceeded to lose it. My family was heading out of town for the weekend, but they had to bandage my shattered mind. My Dad went to the basement, took a screw out of his tool box and found a way to dig it into Han’s body and proceeded to screw his head on top until a replacement figure could be found. The end result was a bit ridiculous looking; imagine Tom Cruise flying to the planet Hoth to kidnap his brother to bargain for his inheritance? Well, Han looked a bit like Raymond, but when my Dad presented it to me, it felt like everything was going to be OK. Navigating through the treacherous waters of the world is tough let alone minor tragedies like this feel like the end of the world when you are a child. My Dad could have told me to wait until they got home that Sunday or just told me to get a life and that it was a toy. But he didn’t. Instead of packing the car up, he performed emergency surgery on a four inch action figure just to make his son feel a little more whole with the world. Two days later while my parents were out of town, my Mom found the figure for me and bought me a replacement (and in a ironic twist of fate, put his gun in her purse for safe keeping only to give it away in the change she paid to a grocery clerk). I never discarded the “Rain Man” figure, because it reminded me of the love my parents had for me. I sat there and hoped for good fortune to shine on me as I can do the same for my daughter, heal her heart when someone has stomped on it or do something heartfelt and natural that will make her world feel safe and secure. The tears gushed because I worry I won’t have the same access to give her not just what she wants, but what she deserves.

We get older and do not physically play with our toys anymore, but they’re symbolic to us. This is why Andy is in the process of going to college and had yet to part with them in Toy Story 3. In many ways, they’re more intoxicating reminders of our childhood than any picture or video ever could be. They elicit the purest form of joy any of us would ever know. While we all go on to bigger and better life experiences, we often learn that growing older comes with growing pains. These toys remind us of simpler times and also represent not just an identity for ourselves but are symbols of who we were, who we strive to be, but most importantly, where we came from. Toy Story 3 is more than mere Saturday afternoon entertainment, but a film that will move you and remind you that even at our darkest hours, there is indeed good in the world, we just need to look for it. Thanks Mom, Dad and Pixar.

Anthony Kuzminski is a Chicago based writer and Special Features Editor for the antiMusic Network. His daily writings can be read at The Screen Door. He can be contacted at thescreendoor AT gmail DOT com and can be followed on Twitter

 

"You say you're hurting, baby so am I" (Michael McDermott Live Review)

Michael McDermott
Montrose Room-Rosemont, IL
May 7th, 2010
By Anthony Kuzminski
{Pictures Courtesy of Billie Jo Sheehan}
{Buy the album}

• Read my review of McDermott's Hey La Hey album review here.
• He also makes an appearance, on my year end "Best Albums of 2009" list here.

Some people craft art for financial gain and others do it because it’s all they know. Michael McDermott is one of the latter. Inside the Montrose Room, a phenomenal new music venue located just outside of Chicago, Michael McDermott is solitary with a single spotlight as he is plucking his psyche with only his voice and an acoustic guitar on “I Shall Be Healed”, a ballad from his melancholy 2007 release Noise From Words. He is shifting between “I Shall Be Healed” and verses from U2’s “Bad” as he clamors for a connection. On record, “I Shall Be Healed” is performed unadorned on a piano, but by pairing it with an exerting hymn of pain and suffering from allows it to be seen in a light no one had imagined before. I became reacquainted with Michael McDermott last year with the release of Hey La Hey his best album in nearly a decade and arguably the best of his career. McDermott, backed by his three-piece band, tore through a two-hour set mixing his classics alongside his novel new material showcasing the depth of his songbook. As McDermott and his three backing players took the stage and tore into “20 Miles South of Nowhere” they became one with the crowd. McDermott was in a jacket, loosely fitting tie and a hat with an electric guitar in tow. The material from Hey La Hey was spot-on and bristled with clarity as he performed audience favorites in novel arrangements laying clear focus on his poetic lyrics of life and loss. When you hear a song, it takes you away, makes you forget about your worries, but what happens when those four-minutes are over? For an artist to have their songs truly work they have to find their way inside your consciousness and twist their way around your brain. McDermott’s songs put you in the crossfire of life as they force you to acknowledge, recognize and take action. Can you say that about every artist you encounter?

“Bandit Country” was anchored by McDermott’s husky vocals and Heather Horton’s swelling violin. “Spark” (from the fantastic Last Chance Lounge) was performed by McDermott on an electric as Horton’s violin magnified the song with her delicate touches. It was here on the evening’s fourth song where I saw McDermott wrestle from within. He delivered an impassioned vocal with her eyes closed and squinting as his body shook with every lyric. “Unemployed” was preceded by a comical story where Kid Rock commented to McDermott of his admiration for the song. One begins to wonder that if Rock can cover John Eddie (“Lowlife”), why not Michael McDermott? “Unemployed” was written more than a decade back but its stinging lyrics divulge the bleak nature of 2010. The characters that inhabit McDermott’s songs jump out at you as poets and lovers attempt to find themselves. McDermott strapped on an acoustic for a solo rendering of “Just West of Eden” that left the audience mouths open-mouthed in a performance that defied fear. McDermott sings every song with a bursting allegiance that accentuates his authenticity, further demonstrated superbly on “Bells” a cult classic from his self-titled record in the mid-1990’s best known for the recurring phrase, “Hey La Hey”. Performed unadorned on a piano, it seeped with force. The solo acoustic numbers were as enthralling as the full band ones. “Still Ain’t Over You Yet” felt more unfeigned and a bone-cutting rendition of “Junkie Girl”, which flirts with an alternative and much darker life path-one that is all too realistic, resonated intensely proving that less was more. “Hard To Break” has Horton on lead vocals with McDermott complimenting her serenading style. One of the most evocative tracks on Hey La Hey the live rendition is a showcase for Horton’s wistful voice highlighted by her husband McDermott. A reflection on the trials and tribulations of life, it delves into the past and was delivered in a prayer-like intensity where the narrators are looking for some guidance along the way once again evoking the journey we all connect with because ultimately, it is ours as well. The solemnity of the performance with McDermott’s guitar and Horton’s fiddle only slightly decorating the song was intense and brought the story to the forefront. The whole evening, enhanced by the Montrose Room’s atmosphere had a Storytellers feel to it. Every grin, cringe, smirk and grunt couldn’t just be seen but felt.

Once you’ve made in the world of entertainment it becomes a challenge for the artist as to what they can disclose with their audience that will lessen their ache, put their worries to rest and arouse their spirit? If you get divorced or experience a death of someone close, this frequently incites the creative fire within. But if none of that occurs, what then? This is the fight most acts find themselves in when money and security no longer an object that drives their lives. The common person works every day for fear of losing their livelihood, having their house repossessed, or not being able to provide for their family. I doubt acts that gross $100-million on the road have these items keep them up at night, which is why the more success they endure, the harder it is to mine their psyche and relate to their audience. Hey La Hey is McDermott’s 9th album of original material and his best. How many artists can you honestly say are at their creative peak after ten records? We may fool ourselves into believing certain acts are, but they’re not. McDermott made the best record released in 2009 and after seeing him perform more than half of it live, there is no doubt whatsoever that he pours every ounce of his soul onto the concert stage.

I saw an equal when I gazed on the stage on this particular night. McDermott is infinitely more talented than I could ever dream, but I believed his struggles were my own and I cheered, laughed and cried along because the simultaneous jolt anguish of euphoria and pain could be felt throughout the whole room highlighted on the evening’s penultimate song, “So Am I”. In the end, it’s about the lyrics that force one to take a long hard look in the mirror. This opening cut on Hey La Hey (it also is a hidden alternate cut at the end) McDermott is serenading his fears and unanswered questions where one defiant question comes to the forefront; “Will you keep that candle burning?” Whether it’s for an impossible love, and impossible dream or just the will to make it through these impossible times McDermott doesn’t just remind us but challenge us, like a philosophical doctrine, to keep the faith. His songs elicit more than mere character sketches that form a work of fiction but play out like everyday people in a documentary. There are artists who exhibit the ordinary person’s struggles and others who exude it without trying; Michael McDermott exudes it because he’s experiencing it like you and me. Instead of merely writing about incidents he has read about in a newspaper, he lives through his art. Each song and note sung is drained from his veins and utilizing a guitar instead of a syringe, he re-injects it to those in need. This isn’t a man of the people trying to relate to his audience because he doesn’t have to; he is already one of us.

Anthony Kuzminski is a Chicago based writer and Special Features Editor for the antiMusic Network. His daily writings can be read at The Screen Door. He can be contacted at thescreendoor AT gmail DOT com and can be followed on Twitter

Empty

by Daniel Nahmod

Nothing to say, nowhere to go, nothing to do
I have no promises to make, no one to know, nothing to prove
It's a strange sort of existence, somehow it seems so true

The only thing i really know is that I don't know a thing
The only sound that i hear now is the silence when i sing
The only sight my eyes can see is the darkness of my dreams
This is how I'm born to be
Empty.

I know nothing is wrong, nothing is right, all is in all right now
Everything's gone, ambition and fight, no expectations at all
It's a new kind of intention, somehow it seems so right

The only thing i really know is that I don't know a thing
The only sound that i hear now is the silence when i sing
The only sight my eyes can see is the darkness of my dreams
This is how I'm born to be

I'd be perfectly fine if I stayed this way forever
Nothing on my mind, and I've never felt better

The only thing I really know is that I don't know a thing
The only sound that i hear now, is the silence when i sing
the only sight my eyes can see is the darkness of my dreams
This is how I'm born to be
This is how I'm born to be

Empty

Fifteen Years Ago Today

The lead-up to Bon Jovi’s sixth studio album, These Days, felt like an eternity. It wasn’t but there was a prolonged sense of waiting for it. Back in the 1990’s the Internet was in its infancy and news didn’t travel as quickly as it does today. Therefore, we relied on information from these things called “magazines” and “television”. I was an avid Kerrang reader and Metal Edge, both of which proved to be among the few music magazines still providing in-depth coverage to the music I loved. Bon Jovi had released Cross Road, a Best-Of collection, the previous October with the goal of having These Days in stores the following March. Alas, it wasn’t meant to be. The band hunkered down in November of 1994 and the recording didn’t take off as quickly as they had hoped. When December came, the band did 5 club charity shows and Richie Sambora got married, This small break delayed completion of the record, but come March the album was done, it was mixed in April and the band was on the road playing in countries never visited before. All throughout May and June, the band began to perform select tracks from the record. You would hear about this, but this was before YouTube and MP3’s, so immediate access was impossible. I was getting bootlegs here and there on cassettes (remember those?), imports of CD singles from the UK and Japan but in the end, all I could do was wait.

So what was the big deal? I was in college, not having the best of time and well, I needed great books, albums and films to guide me. I was taking more from this art form than anyone should, but it was the antidote to my troubles. So Tuesday June 27th came and I set my alarm for 8:15am. I got up showered and headed over to Rolling Stones Records in Norridge (about a 12-minute car ride). They opened at 9am, a solid hour before any other music retailer out there and they got my money by default. To people in and around Chicago, Rolling Stones Records was a dream come true. Not only did they have one of the largest and deepest catalogs of music to buy, but they sold bootlegs, imports and at any given day you would find something that would make not just your day or week but month. As I left the store, I discarded the shrink-wrap and placed the disc into my Discman. For the next twelve minutes, I was in ecstasy. “Hey God”, “Something For the Pain” and “This Ain’t A Love Song” all were played before I got home. When I arrive back at mi casa, I went upstairs, put headphones on and let the music take me away. When it was over, I hit play again and listened as I read the lyrics line by line.

I was having an out of body experience. It felt as if every lyric had been plucked from experiences in my life. Death, disillusionment, and heartache were at the core themes of the record, but there was something more going on here than visceral lyrics; Bon Jovi had reached adulthood in the musical world. Never taken seriously when their rocket ship to stardom took off, they had matured with every release and as I grew, they grew. Never once post-Slippery When Wet did they make anything remotely childish, retro or musically gratuitous. These Days was their pinnacle. All the pieces fell into place for them. It’s rare for an album to hit all the marks, let alone from an act no one expected it from. Over time, I am not sure if any album in my collection has been played more. But it’s more than an album that I feel a personal collection to, it’s an astonishing piece of work that transcends genres and musical tastes.

Last year I delved deep into this record in two specific parts and if you wish, I'd suggest checking them out. You can read them here and here. 

It's also on antiMusic at this link. 





Anthony Kuzminski is a Chicago based writer and Special Features Editor for the antiMusic Network. His daily writings can be read at The Screen Door. He can be contacted at thescreendoor AT gmail DOT com and can be followed on Twitter

Concert Review: Patty Griffin (Live in Chicago w/ Buddy Miller 6/18/2010)

Patty Griffin (with Buddy Miller)
House of Blues – Chicago
June 18, 2010
By Anthony Kuzminski
{Buy Patty Griffin music here}

Patty Griffin may not be a household name, but chances are you know her work. She has written for the Dixie Chicks (“Let Him Fly”), Solomon Burke and more recently Kelly Clarkson and Crystal Bowersox have covered “Up To the Mountain” on American Idol. Without question, she is one of the five greatest living songwriters alive and I won’t be subtle in that proclamation; she’s that good. Despite gaining some traction with the song “Beautiful World”, a duet with Dierks Bentley, she kicked off 2010 with a detour- the spiritual and gospel influenced record Downtown Church. The record came about when she was approached by her label to make a gospel record after her contribution to a track with Mavis Staples on O Happy Day. She immediately agreed under the condition that Buddy Miller would produce. Apparently Miller’s iTunes library is over 85,000 songs and he picked 500 for her to choose from for this project. Miller, who also opened the show, helped be a foil for her during this process and the end result of Downtown Church is organically ornate and benevolently fragile. Mining the same themes of demise, distress and deliverance, Griffin tackles these songs with not just elegance and lilting glee. Despite only housing two original compositions on the album, she not only pays homage to the past but makes these songs her own which stand side-by-side with her ethereal body of work. Most artists would struggle with finding their voice inside these songs, but for Griffin it proved to be unproblematic. Her current tour is heavy on material from Downtown Church and for those who casually follow Griffin, this may be a conundrum but ultimately the reliance on this record and its themes is an asset. Imagine going to see one of your favorite artists and having them not play any of your favorite songs? It should be inadequate, but if the artist is truly an artist, they find a way to stimulate you and still leave you breathless. Patty Griffin is one of those artists. I’ve been following her career closely for several years and “Long Ride Home”, “Florida”, “Let Him Fly”, “Top of the World” are always at the tip of my consciousness and despite not performing any of them at the House of Blues, it didn’t matter. The show endures on its own virtues and I now have songs from other albums that mean more to me today than they did a few days ago.

Opening the show was “Standing” with a swelling organ it set the tone for the remainder of the concert. Despite being written nearly a decade back, someone seeing her for the first time wouldn’t have been able to differentiate it from the themes ofDowntown Church. Her backing band for this tour (also supporting Robert Plant later this summer) is an integral piece of the puzzle shape-shifting to the material when needed. On “Death’s Got a Warrant” the band evokes a death march eeriness while “If I Had My Way” the band vanishes into the background giving a lesson in subtlety while they stir up religious conviction on “Move Up” where you stop and wonder why they don’t assemble bands like this anymore. They’re never ostentatious or overgenerous but more critical to the inclusive sound than anyone could even imagine. The band’s self-discipline permits Griffin’s vocals and lyrics to be the focal point. Inside her tiny frame is a voice vociferous enough which will uncoil and thwack you which she did momentously on “Wade in the Water”. “Heavenly Day” featured Griffin solo on acoustic and she introduced it as “my only legitimate love songs” before dropping the bombshell that she wrote it for her dog. Writing love songs is easy; it’s something else entirely to create something that transports the human spirit, which is what Griffin does. She even pulled out a new song, “Get Ready Marie”, inspired by a wedding picture of her grandparents which shows a side of humor. “No Bad News” {Video Link} was introduced as “a song I wrote when I was in a bad mood”, was scorching as Griffin assaulted her acoustic guitar with such fervor in punk-rock assertiveness that she broke a string inducing the loudest ovation of the evening. “Never Grown Old” found Griffin and Miller alone on stage (as it is on Downtown Church) serenading one another on a traditional number from the 1920’s. Anyone creating music at this moment in time could learn from this one track. If you have a remarkable song and abounding emotion and enthusiasm, nothing else is needed. Studio wizardry proves to be superfluous.

The breathy performance of “Coming Home To Me” is full of contemplative lyrics that tug at your heart with characters that are far too authentic for most to acknowledge. Like Dylan before her, if you listen carefully, you sit back and gasp at how gorgeously constructed these songs are; no one should be this gifted with words. Her vocals pull and pluck at every heart string within and if you open yourself to her art, you will forever be changed. She has an uncanny ability to birth hymns of greatness about the most mundane and simplistic simple matters of the heart and she spins them into cinematic infernos as she did on “Little Fire”. Her lyrics are comforting, revealing and revolutionary in their frankness and direction. The crowd was mostly quiet and reserved, not out of boredom but from veneration and the need to savor every word sung. If you screamed too loud, you may miss out on a central plot point or a lyric that may concurrently sting and soothe your soul. One of the reasons people associate with artists so closely is they often articulate their emotions for us. While we secrete feelings of loss and regret and nary speak a word, Griffin is out there painting pictures from internal wars fought wherever hearts roam.

“The Strange Man” has a hallelujah-recessional characteristic to it. “Waiting For My Child” featured a vocal from Griffin so in tune with the lyrics that you almost sense she holds the key to a box that holds the secrets of life. “House of Gold”, which opens Downtown Church, was performed towards the conclusion of the set and not without reason. Griffin’s voiced ascended as her backing band stirred up ghosts from the past. Those who came before fought and strove to make sense of their lot in life and like an early morning mist, the band raised these spirits from the dead so we can take meaning from their stories. Followed straight away by “We Shall All be Reunited”, it tied up the themes in a enlivening and inspirational modern psalm where one day, possibly here on Earth and possibly in another realm, there will be a reconciling where the hurdles, arguments and despondency will vanish and all that will be left is love, family and forgiveness in our final act of the play we call life. It’s up to us if we wish to wait or to walk down the road towards this redemption straight away. In many cases, we have the capacity and this is what the music reminds us of and urges us to do. In the encore, Griffin’s full-bodied voice took flight on what is quickly becoming her signature song, “Up To the Mountain (MLK Song)”. Her music is the aural foil to a film like The Shawshank Redemption where you believe in the power of optimism. It proves to be are more than mere distraction but place us on a life raft as we’re navigating our way through a storm trying to find the lighthouse that will guide us back home.

These chronicles that surge from her are accounts of brutal forthrightness that cut to the core of your moral fiber. These songs hurt just as much as a first-hand encounter, but this isn’t a negative. When we undergo ache, it jogs our memory of who we are, where we have been and what we have to do to make certain that agony goes away. Her songs remind us of what it is life to be alive. In a world where burying your past and pain is celebrated, Patty Griffin writes with a guitar in one hand and a shovel in another excavating up our darkest secrets, forcing us to resolve them because she knows we’ll never be free until we meet head-on our demons.

Anthony Kuzminski is a Chicago based writer and Special Features Editor for the antiMusic Network. His daily writings can be read at The Screen Door. He can be contacted at thescreendoor AT gmail DOT com and can be followed on Twitter


Chicago 6/18/10 Set List:
Standing /If I Had My Way /Wade in the Water /Little Fire /Death's Got A Warrant /Move Up /Heavenly Day / Coming Home To Me /I'm A Believer (Waylon Jennings cover) /Get Ready Marie (new song)/No Bad News/ Mary /Never Grow Old /Love Throw A Line /The Strange Man /Waiting For My Child /Stay On The Ride/House Of Gold /We Shall All Be Reunited /I Smell A Rat /Up To The Mountain /Wrap It Up (Fabulous Thunderbirds cover)

You and Yours

Your eyes were the most mischievous I have ever looked into, full of adventure. We had a passion I never even dreamed of having.

And yours I had the pleasure of looking into for hours that night, without saying a word, just holding you. It was one of the most intimate things I have ever experienced.

Your lips were some of the softest that I have ever kissed; there was a synchronicity there that just seemed to come naturally.

And we, we kissed at midnight on New Years Eve after your aged dog ate my box of chocolates. It was my first kiss, and I was terrible. We lasted something like two weeks.

And you, you were the one who took me by the lips and taught me. You were unrelenting.

Your kiss came to my cheek when I was a schoolboy, and immediately afterward I danced around the schoolyard in sheer giddy delight.

And you, you had a heart that matched mine. You knew who you were and you lived it out on a daily basis. i was privileged to be in the picture. You had a beautiful simplicity about you that drew me to you.

You and yours.

A Deeper Look Into the 'Stones In Exile' DVD

Stones In Exile

DVD Review

By Anthony Kuzminski

{Buy the DVD here}

Writer's note:

This is not my final review on this DVD. A more detailed one will be posted over at antiMusic later this week. 

This DVD is insanely good. If you think the special edition of Exile on Main Street released last month was the best thing to come out from the Stones camp, then you haven’t heard about this film/DVD. Every classic album should be given this treatment. For those of you who saw edited versions here in the US and the UK, have no fear, there is more to this release than we saw. What we saw on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon was approximately thirty-seven minutes of the doc, which means the DVD has another twenty-three minutes to it. While watching the documentary on television last month, it felt disjointed and all over the place with commercial breaks. That feeling here is non-existent and the overall story arc works incredibly well. It’s astonishing to think of the footage they have along with pictures. Getting the sign off for these had to be a legal nightmare, but the film benefits from the meticulous nature of their overall drive.

The dig deep into the music, how it gestated and grew into the classic album it became. Shifting between current interviews, old radio interviews, classic video footage and a deluge of pictures (some we see for the first time) as people who were there for the recording and subsequent tour narrate over these images. Mick Taylor, Bill Wyman, Marshall Chess, Bobby Keys, Anita Pallenberg and even Jake Webber (the actor from the TV show Medium) all give insight into the lore and history behind the album. If there is one criticism of the film, it’s that it isn’t long enough. However, to their credit, whatever may have been lacking on the DVD is made up for in three extended pieces found in the supplemental materials.

“Return To Stargroves and Olympic Studios” (10-minutes)

Jagger and Watts walk through a pair of the studios where work was done. Both are in chummy almost tongue-in-cheek moods. It’s a brief look into the past, but considering this is an act who has never been fond of looking backward, it’s intriguing to see these two walk in the shadows of their past.

“Extended Interviews” 33-minutes

Keith Richards

Bill Wyman

Mick Taylor

Anita Pallenberg

Charlie Watts

Ronnie Wood

In the film, we only hear Wyman’s and Taylor’s voices and briefly see them. Here we get partial interviews about their experiences. I’m not entirely sure why they weren’t in the film more. For my money, all of these interviews should have found a way into the film. Even Ron Wood chimes in on where he was when he first heard Exile.

“Exile Fans” (40-minutes)

Interviews with:

Will.i.am (Black Eyed Peas)

Don Was (Producer)

Liz Phair

Caleb Followill (Kings of Leon)

Sheryl Crow

Jack White (White Stripes)

Martin Scorsese (Director)

This section has 40+ minutes of interviews with the likes of Don Was, Sheryl Crow, Liz Phair and Martin Scorsese. They talk about the magic and mystery of why this record continues to resonate to this very day.

Don Was provides the greatest revelations. Was (in my opinion) gets a bad rap from Stones fans. He’s created two almost classic records with the band (Voodoo Lounge and A Bigger Bang) yet he’s often vilified as not pushing the Stones harder. After watching his interviews, you’ll be surprised at just how much just doesn’t know about the band’s history, but understands. His ability to translate this for the casual listener is transfixing. The Stones are nowhere to be found, but you feel closer to the record than you did before it started.

Anthony Kuzminski is a Chicago based writer and Special Features Editor for the antiMusic. His daily writings can be read at The Screen Door. He can be contacted at thescreendoor AT gmail DOT com and can be followed on Twitter

Only Visiting This Planet

Lately I've been dousing myself in old Christian rock that I used to listen to growing up. Petra, DeGarmo and Key, Michael W. Smith, and more. Most recently DeGarmo and Key have been on my Blackberry, as I remember lead singer Dana Key who recently passed away. Just today one of D & K's songs "Aliens and Strangers" came on, which contains lyrics like "My closest friends are aliens and strangers, travelers here, living with danger." Later on, Key states that we're just "passing through." This is a common theme in Christian rock. The Grandfather of Christian Rock, the late Larry Norman entitled one of his albums Only Visiting This Planet, and also had a song called U.F.O. which said "He's (Jesus) an Unidentified Flying Object, we will meet him in the sky." All of this suggests that our real home is not this earth but that we should consider Heaven our home. I believe even T-shirts with the phrase "This World Is Not My Home" used to be popular among Christians.

I think that it is unfortunate to place so much emphasis on the afterlife, which no one can definitively prove anyway. Placing our sights on the future, which is undetermined, robs us of being fully present in the here and in the now, which is all that we have. There is also an air of disdain for this world in some of these songs, as if the world is a dirty, sullied place that needs to be conquered. Degarmo and Key has a song called At War With The World. Petra has songs such as Armed and Dangerous and even This Means War.

What I am trying to say is that this world is all we have right now, so instead of trying to conquer or overcome it, we should instead embrace it and the things in it. It should also be noted that along with a condemnation for this world, there is usually a partnering disdain for our bodies, which are things that need to be conquered or overcome. What I am saying is that we can trust this world, and Trust that It Is Good. We live in a wonderful world and all we have for sure is this lifetime, so we should enjoy it and also enjoy ourselves. Just as we can trust the world, we can trust our bodies and the things that they tell us. We should wake up each day and bask in the new moments that Life brings us. Also, we should embrace the feelings that our bodies feel, whether they are telling us to relax, slow down, or dance like there's no tomorrow. (I should note that I do think that there's more after this life, but what the afterlife is like, I have no idea, but I trust that it is Good, just as this life is.)

In conclusion, we are not Aliens and Strangers, or Only Visiting This Planet.

We Can Trust This Life. We Can Trust This World. We Can Trust Our Bodies. We Can Just Trust.

You Can Trust Yourself

Do you know that you can trust yourself? Maybe you do, maybe you don't. I never used to think that I could trust myself when I was growing up as a fundamentalist Christian. I believed that humankind in their natural state were sinners and that their ways were naturally distorted and bent. It was only through salvation by Jesus that one could be cleansed from this, but still you couldn't trust yourself. You could trust God and Jesus, and perhaps your pastor, but not yourself. We were naturally corrupt, and thankfully had the word of God, the Bible to refer to in all matters.

But today I trust myself.

I trust myself now that I view God as the divine Spirit within whom I live and whom I am an expression of. I trust my feelings, whether they be of love or sadness, anger or pain. I do not try to pray them away or run away from negative emotions. Rather, I sit with them and try to understand why they're there. I am learning to listen to my body. If I am feeling sad, I let myself feel sad. If I feel the need to be held, I get together with a friend who can hold me. If I feel like I want to kiss someone, if I am in a relationship I kiss unabashedly.

We are not bad, we are not untrustworthy.

We Are Good, and We Can Trust Ourselves.

The Biz: A Dismal Opening For Christina Aguilera

How pitiful is it that the soundtrack of covers, from a television show no less, can outsell an established artist and the biggest film franchise at the moment. Idolator has a great piece on this weeks chart activity here.

Christina Aguilera has been everywhere in the last few weeks; Fuse Takeover, NBA Final, VH1 Storytellers, VH1 Behind the Music, the American Idol finale, press about her cancelled tour and so on and so on. She debuts at #3 with 110,000 copies sold of Bionic. Is this bad? Yes, very-very-very bad. Her previous album, a double album, sold 346,000 it's opening week. So what does this mean? I can rant and rave about it all, but it all comes down to the fact that few took the bait and felt the new music they have heard isn't quite her best. We can all whine about illegal downloading, but look at Lady Gaga, she's still selling tons of records. At the end of the day, you can be on as many television shows as you want, but it all comes down to the songs. Based on what I have heard of Bionic, it doesn't sound as if she has the goods this time.

This is disappointing for many reasons, notably her drive to steer herself into more mature waters with Stripped and Back To Basics. This new look and sound feel as if she's trying to keep up with what's popular instead of following her musical heart. In the past people would buy records on the artists reputation alone. These days with marketing campaigns weeks and months in advance, the public gets a taste of not just the lead single but often the entire album and in many cases, unless it's great, they look elsewhere. In the end, never spend more time marketing the music than making it.

This week's Top Ten is below. On a side note; Jewel still makes records? And people buy them?


The Top 10 of Billboard’s Top 200 Albums:
1. Glee Cast, Glee: The Music—Journey To Regionals *new*
2. Various Artists, The Twilight Saga: Eclipse *new*
3. Christina Aguilera, Bionic *new*
4. Jack Johnson, To The Sea
5. Plies, Goon Affiliated *new*
6. Justin Bieber, My World 2.0
7. Glee Cast, Glee: The Music—Vol. 3, Showstoppers
8. Lady Antebellum, Need You Now
9. Dierks Bentley, Up On The Ridge *new*
10. Jewel, Sweet And Wild *new*

Coming Back To This Moment

What is it that you need to get back into the present moment? If you're like me, you may spend a lot of your time thinking about the past, whether they be good or bad memories, celebrations or regrets. We are not Here. Or perhaps you are thinking of the future, whether it be in eager anticipation of an upcoming event, or with dis-ease at what may come. What can bring us back Here, where peace is present?

I think it can be different things for different people. Spending a few minutes in prayer or meditation in the morning could do it. If you believe in a personal God, you could bring your concerns and things that you're grateful for before Him. If you view God as more of a spiritual being who lives within you, you could practise focusing on "breathing in God, breathing out God." Or you may just focus on your breath and nothing else, if you can concentrate on it. If not, you could try a certain phrase or Scripture verse that means a lot to you. Examples of this are: "I am a loved and wonderful expression of God in the world," "I am fearfully and wonderfully made," or simply "I am Love."

However you do it, I encourage you to spend as much time as possible in the here, in the now. All worries and anxieties are less in the here and the now and when we focus on God, whomever that may be for us.

Blessings to you today!

Mark Andrew

The Gaslight Anthem: The Greatest Band You've Yet To Discover

One of the beauties of writing is showcasing a light on undiscovered talent. With the media so splintered these days it's maddening trying to find great new music, even though there is no shortage of it out there. One band I continually recommend is the Gaslight Anthem. They embody everything one could want from music; grittiness, melody, believability and redemption. Taking a page from the past the music may feel derivative but it is wildly engaging and when you have finished listening to one of their records, you feel as if your soul has been cleansed through the power of a getaway chorus. The '59 Sound was one of my Top-100 albums of the decade and if I were writing the list today, it would appear significantly higher than its original placement of #99.

I wrote about the band in April 2009 when they hit Chicago and said:

Inside the Bottom Lounge, Chicago’s newest live venue for music, the crowd is thrusting their perspiring bodies against one another like impassioned lovers who need each others bodies for more than just a sexual release but for internal redemption. The moshing is forceful, verging on furious, as the seven-hundred in attendance throw caution to the wind amidst songs of anticipation and liberation sound tracked by the Gaslight Anthem. “The ’59 Sound”, the title track to their most recent album, is eliciting screams of adoration and a physical churning I haven’t seen since alternative’s hey day in the early 90’s. Some have viewed the Gaslight Anthem as a band whose music is too workmanlike and they borrows too liberally from their influences,, but I dare you to witness the fist pumping and maniacal reactions from the sold-out crowd and not want to fall in love with rock n’ roll all over again.

Read the full review here.

The band releases their latest album, American Slang today.  This is music your life is better off for hearing. Delving into your psyche, Brian Fallon's lyrics are bone-cutting yet brutally beautiful and truthful. They remind you of summer love, lost innocence and like a prayer to a spirit above, they comfort you in ways nothing else can. The only question you should be asking yourself is how you have lived life this far without their music.

Go to their official site for streams, live performances and a multi-episode piece on the making of the latest record.

Ruby James Album Review on antiMusic

One of my favorite records of the year to date is now on antiMusic, Ruby James 'Happy Now' produced by Charlie Sexton.

Read my 4-star review here.

John Mellencamp Box-Set Review on antiMusic Friday!

My in-depth 2,300 word review of John Mellencamp's box set, On the Rural Route 7609 will be published on antiMusic this coming Friday. Check it out here.

You can buy it in two editions here and here. 

Here is a snippet of my review:

Each one of the four discs has a distinguishing theme and narrative intertwined throughout it. In fact, each of the four discs could have culled single word one titles from Mellencamp’s 2008 album, Life, Death, Love & Freedom. “Life” experiences encompass disc one while disc two embraces a more political and bleak tone presenting the listener with harsh realities (“Death”). Disc three embodies a sensation of longing and “Love” while the concluding disc finds the narrator embracing their “Freedom” and they seem content with their voyage up to this point infused with hopefulness. The flow, execution and theme of the set are a striking revelation into the craft of songwriting. “Longest Days” begins the journey and sets the mood. “Longest Days” was inspired by a phrase his grandmother used to say to him (“Life is short, even in its longest days”). The song takes a look back the desolation we all stumble upon in one way or another. Despite the frail opening, it is Mellencamp’s most staunch lyric and quite possibly the greatest song he’s ever written. Over the next fifty-three tracks you begin to realize that besides songs like “Hurts So Good”, “Small Town” and “Paper In Fire” is a body of work worthy of thoughtful discussions and dissection.

YouTube Clips:

A Reminder

Do you know that if you could never do anything ever again, that if you could never be who you think you are ever again, You Would Still Be Wonderful.

There's nothing that you need to say, there's no catching up to do and no one to impress.

You are a Unique and Wonderful Gift To The World. You may not feel like it today, there can be so many things that pull us away from this truth, but you can come back to it again and again. Although it is nice to hear from others, no one needs to tell this to you for it to be true. You're magnificent.

Be Easy On Yourself. Show Loving-Kindness To Yourself, because there is only one You.

You, Me, & Plurality

"Religion cannot stand Spirituality. It cannot abide it. For Spirituality may bring you to a different conclusion than a particular religion - and this no known religion can tolerate.

Religion encourages you to explore the thoughts of others and accept them as your own. Spirituality invites you to toss away the thoughts of others and come up with your own."

Neale Donald Walsch

My last few blog entries have begun with quotes from Walsch that I agree with, but this time I thought I'd post one that I don't necessarily agree with totally.

Firstly, there is his statement that "Spirituality may bring you to a different conclusion than a particular religion - and this no known religion can tolerate."
Frankly, and thankfully, this is no longer true. I have been fortunate in the past 3 years or so to have been introduced to both Unitarian Universalism, and Unity.

For those unfamiliar with Unitarian Universalism, it is a liberal, non-creedal religion. However, it does have a list of 7 Principles and 6 Sources from which they draw upon, one of which is direct experience of that transcending mystery and wonder, affirmed in all cultures, which moves us to a renewal of the spirit and an openness to the forces which create and uphold life; In other words, they recognize and affirm that an individual's personal and direct experience is valid; it matters!

As far as Unity is concerned, while it still utilizes more Christian language and Scripture than you'd find in a Unitarian Universalist church, it acknowledges the individual's journey. While I am now a member of the Unitarian Universalist church in my region, I attended a Unity center for several months. Every Sunday the minister would make a point of welcoming those in attendance with something like this: "We welcome you to Unity. We realize that each person is on their own individual journey and that we are not the only way, but welcome."

How refreshing both of these approaches are! A very public acknowledgement that we are all on our own individual journeys and they may look very different from the person sitting next to us, but still we can come together and be in a loving, accepting community!

Secondly I'd like to refer to Walsch's statement that "Spirituality invites you to toss away the thoughts of others and come up with your own." I think we can all agree that we can listen to the thoughts of others and then judge whether we agree with them and want to incorporate them into our own belief system, or whether we indeed want to "toss them away." But I mostly want to refer to the part of the sentence where he suggests that we can "come up with our own (thoughts and beliefs)." This is very different from what I grew up with. I grew up as a fundamentalist Christian where I thought I had to measure my beliefs and thoughts against the words of the inerrant Bible and against the words of a minister. What's more, I believed in the doctrine of original sin, that because Adam and Eve ate of the fruit in the Garden of Eden, so the rest of humanity also had a sinful nature at its core. How wonderful it is now to believe that we are not originally sinful but that we are original blessings, and that our thoughts, rather than probably being contrary to what God wants, can often be the expression of God into the world and blessings to the people in our lives and to those around the world.

In conclusion, I disagree with Walsch's assumption that all religion cannot accept diversity, but I heartily agree that we can come up with our own thoughts and beliefs.

Blessings to you today,

Mark Andrew

Album Review: Ruby James - 'Happy Now' (4-Stars)

Ruby James-‘Happy Now’
Album Review
4-Stars (****)
By Anthony Kuzminski
Buy the record here or here

On a windy fall Chicago night in 2009, Ruby James revealed life anecdotes and the inner workings of her artistry over drinks and cheeseburgers. Over the course of the conversation, she spoke of her trials and tribulations like a survivor who is better for the obstacles she has had to endure. James began the conversation talking to me about how Charlie Sexton and his equally talented brother Will came to perform and produce her latest album, Happy Now. We’ve just seen the imperiously talented Charlie Sexton wield his sway on stage with Bob Dylan for close to two hours in a performance that was redefining and downright transfixing. Sexton brings Dylan’s music into sharp focus, which has been absent in concert halls since he left Dylan’s touring band in 2002.Her glinting baby-blue eyes hinted at vulnerability but little did I know what was about to occur. She moved her impenetrable long wavy red hair from her face and with this mere hand sweep she removed an invisible mask and proceeded to tell me “I’ve met my soul mate, but I can’t be with him. It’s not in the cards in this lifetime”. It was a sincere, forthright and severe pronouncement I wasn’t expecting. She found herself caught in the crossfire of the highway of hearts maneuvering between lanes trying to find her way home without a road map to assist. Despite her open candor, I didn’t anticipate that conversation to develop over the course of the next few months without seeing each other in person, emailing or having a single phone conversation take place. The record she handed over to me on that cold night with its bleak realities was sung by someone who isn’t afraid to convey agony, longing and distress, all of which are at the crux of Happy Now ; her latest record produced by Charlie Sexton. Atmospheric matters of the heart are layered with folk-rock-country-blues fills that give the album a scintillating feel on what I believe to be not just the best produced record of 2010 but one of the year’s best as well.

Ruby James mines her soul on Happy Now in a way that is intensely delicate. She manages something rare by creating music where the listener can not only revel in the aural beauty but identify with it. The intricate and personal details make Happy Now more than a mere record but a cathartic exorcism. “The Predictable Kind” inaugurates the record with a sprightly melancholy piano (performed by Charlie Sexton) where our narrator lets her brutal bluntness runneth over. James and Sexton brothers tap into a relationship gone sour where the upbeat number ripples with trembling ardor ultimately setting the tone for the whole album. The title-track features a tranquil vocal by James as the song and music weighs itself on fragile feelings as Will Sexton’s bass permeates the mood of the song with a lingering effect. “Another Day” with its radio-friendly instrumentation and production is inviting and slowly builds and is instilled with philosophical insight despite obstacles and hardships. The music is lush, as evidenced by the instrumental outro which echoes the sensation of longing in ways that compliments the lyrics. “Between Darkness & Light” is scented with ambiguity. Charlie Sexton wears another hat on the song with his brush stroke percussion allowing you to revel in the solemn lyrics.

“Angel Eyes” is about her persistent search for something momentous featuring a vocal that is downright defiant. On “Passengers”, the search continues (“I’ve been waiting, all of my life to be here tonight”). Written from a first person perspective of the night she met her soul mate, the hypnotic rhythm drives the song, her voyage and the album’s themes forward. The overall stark minimalism of the music provides dimensions to the heartrending nucleus of the song, which is possibly the album’s best. Sexton’s guitar only makes an appearance when necessary highlighting the album’s sumptuous organic sound which further accentuates the burning lyrics. This is the key to Sexton’s immaculate production of Happy Now, anyone could have performed these songs (which on their own are emotional powerhouses), but Sexton filled out the canvas infusing essence into the anguished lyrics. There is no GPS to guide pain and heartache and on “Until You Come Home” James takes alternates routes down the road of faith alone with only her tender heart in tow. “Say Goodbye” confronts of betrayal of loss of faith at the crossroads of love. As her fingers glide across the piano keys, her voice emits an enlivening eye-opening clarity and concentration. Her crisis of faith is greeted with the understanding and awareness; she knows the sun won’t just rise again, but it will shine brightly on her. It’s rare to meet anyone who can provide this much insight into the limits of their own heart.

To anyone ever led astray, Happy Now will permeate profoundly with its brutal directness which shares not just despondency but elation, joy and discovery as well. Ruby James is aware of what’s in the rearview mirror but isn’t obsessed with it because her eyes are on the road ahead. An artist’s believability is only as good as the lock on the door to their soul. This door houses their inner anguish and their true consequence as an artist is relies on their inclination to bequeath the key to these secrets. Ruby James has dismantled the door to her heart and her piercing stories of woe, lost love and eternal searching are here for us to savor and we’re better for it.

Anthony Kuzminski is a Chicago based writer and Special Features Editor for the antiMusic Network. His daily writings can be read at The Screen Door. He can be contacted at thescreendoor AT gmail DOT com and can be followed on Twitter