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Posts published in November 2011

Man Man’s “Piranhas Club”

I once saw Man Man perform here in Brooklyn a few years back at the Masonic Temple, a cool venue if you’ve never been. My friend Jesse dragged me along since he wanted to see Yeasayer who opened for them. And, since my girlfriend at the time wasn’t with me (and possibly out of town), I was really drunk. We met these British girls and were chatting with them when Yeasayer came on. I commented that the lead singer looked a lot like Rick Astley and sang the song as a joke and they commented that it was pretty good and it was.

Between the sets while Man Man was setting up, I wandered to get another drink with Kat and then went to find Jesse. I found him talking with the drummer from Yeasayer. I approached them. Jesse was telling the dude how big of a fan he was and how great the set was. Then I started in:

Me: Hey, you’re the drummer from Yeasayer, right?

Him: Yeah, man.

Me: Yeah, you guys were pretty all right. Not exactly my cup of tea, but it was a good set.

Him: Thanks.

Jesse: *worried*

Me: I really liked that one song that was pretty metal.

Him: Yeah, that’s my favorite one too!

Me: No shit, because all drummers are either into jazz or metal or both.

Him: Dude, I’m the only metalhead in the band!

Me: I know it.

At which point Jesse was beet red with shame, I toasted the dude, and wandered off. Later that night we were at a party and it was pretty fun and then I went home and thought, “Damn, what the hell.”

What does this have to do with Man Man? Not much. Get over it and watch the John Waters inspired video. I don’t need you to judge me.

Darkest Hour’s “Your Everyday Disaster”

Darkest Hour are one of the few bands to come from the early 00’s period of groups stealing At The Gates riffs that I not only still listen to but who I think is still putting out good music. It doesn’t hurt that the dude’s voice is super distinctive.

The video is one of those “check out our backstage life” ones, but with cuts that probably don’t even last a whole second. It’s all right, if a little relentless. I would have appreciated a little bit of tempo shifting in the cuts, but it’s not that surprising since the song is the same way. Whatever. It’s cool. Check it out.

Creative Projects-October: Where The Hell Was My Project, or, Crossfit Is Making Me Hurt.

October was a fine month! I went back to California and saw my brother and his little family and went to my friend’s wedding and saw a bunch of good old folks I haven’t seen in ages. It was a heart warming, rousing good time.

Unfortunately, I didn’t manage to do any creative work this month. Sure, I had the photos I posted of the girls, but I really just think of those as snapshots. Fancy pants snapshots, but snapshots still. The photos from Spain were a different beast. They were more calculated, more deliberate. The photos from home just weren’t and I don’t really feel good about calling them a project.

Matt at Vox Critica asked me to do a bunch more Torgeirs too, but I could manage to get my shit together and actually write them so that is slipping into next month as well. Stupid.

And of course, October was also when I did my first pro VO job which is fucking awesome. But, again, money was made so I don’t get to count it toward my tally for the year. It was still incredible though, and I hope it’s the start of many more.

So, October, not exactly the most creative month for me, but that’s ok. I’ve been on a roll recently, and a little lull isn’t the end of the world. Next month look out for more Torgeirs, Ancient Aliens, and this year’s Christmas track(s??).

And on to the second half of this year’s theme: slowing my roll. So much of slowing my roll this year has been focused on not drinking all the time like a god damned drunk. And, honestly, I feel like I’ve been doing really well on that count. But “slowing my roll” is not just about how much or how little I drink. It’s also about taking care of myself in the face of my overwhelmingly bad habits and tendencies. And that means getting my ass out of the house to exercise.

Enter the Crossfit Elements course at Crossfit NYC.

I discussed this a little bit in last month’s summary. Crossfit, recommended to me by the inimitable JJ Zambrano, is a high intensity workout designed to build practical strength. Here’s what they have to say about it.

CrossFit is an extremely efficient and effective way to get into world-class shape.

Our workouts consist of constantly varied, functional movements (like pushups and pullups, deadlifts and squats, gymnastics, kettlebells, running, rowing, and olympic lifting), executed at high intensity in a group setting.

Essentially, a fun, friendly, yet high-intensity boot camp, with weights.

CrossFit is for anyone, regardless of their age or fitness level. Our members range from professional athletes and members of the New York FBI SWAT Team to grandfathers in their mid-seventies and desk jockeys with barely enough hand-eye coordination to use a mouse.

In short, if you care about health, real-world performance, or just want to look better naked, CrossFit is for you.

It’s the kind of workout you could do in your garage (if you have a garage; I do not). In fact, I’ve been able to successfully do some workouts in my weird little Brooklyn apartment. It’s great. You set a timer, go through the things, and jam while listening to metal. What the hell? That’s awesome. I can totally do that. Now, nearly at the end of the course (the last one starts in a couple hours), I feel like this is something I can really stick with. I intend to give it six months to see how I feel. You can’t really get solid results without a solid commitment, so that’s what I want to do. Commit.

Just before my first class, I was wandering about with Sarah and she asked me what my goals were for the class. I told her, “I want to feel better,” which is completely true. Since then I’ve thought about it a little more and I feel that while “I want to feel better” is still the perfect umbrella answer, there are some more specific ways to break it down.

First, I want to be stronger. That’s pretty basic. Can you do a dead hang over-arm pullup? I can’t. Not to save my life. How many pushups can you do in 2 minutes? The first night I found out that I can only do about 30 of them before I am unable to lift myself off the ground. And that was pushing myself HARD. I want to be able to do better than that. Seriously better than that.

Next, I want to look better. I am not ugly, let’s don’t even go there, but for the last couple of years I have felt a little too fluffy for my tastes. I’d like be leaner than I am now. I am already on the road having changed quite dramatically the way I am eating. I’ve lost about 10 pounds from my coasting weight of 205 pounds to about 195. There’s a little variance, but that’s normal. The next step is to change the shape of my body. I don’t want to spend the rest of my waning youth soft. Let’s get intense, motherfucker.

Next, I want to address the nagging asthma that I’ve been pissed off about for the last few years. At some point, while living next to a BQE underpass, I developed cough-equivalent asthma. Basically, instead of having gasping asthma attacks, I am wracked with violent, dry coughing fits. A lot of things irritate my lungs: seasonal allergies, overly air-conditioned spaces, humidity, whatever. I keep it under control, usually, with my Advair, but without health insurance it’s 250 bucks a month which is like, what?, like 40 beers? That’s a lot of beers. I really hope that I can use the increased endurance and pulmonary strength I hope to build in Crossfit to lessen the effects of my asthma. I really hate it.

Next, I’d like to get back into martial arts, but I’d like to be in better shape before I go back. As a kid I studied Tae Kwon Do and loved it. I dropped it because I was a pre-teen and an idiot and had no idea what was good for me. I should have kept going. In college I flirted with Wing Chun Kung Fu for a minute, but eventually settled into American Jiu Jitsu—a middle ground between Japanese Jiu Jitsu and Brazilian Jiu Jistu. I studied that for a year and a half or so until my senior year of school when I was hunkering down for my final film and ran out of money and time. By the time I had time again, I’d graduated and certainly didn’t have the money for it. Luckily, these days I both have time (not waking up hungover every morning) and money (bling bling, motherfucker) to take martial arts classes. But this time I think I am going to go for Krav Maga, or as a former boss called it “Jew Jitsu”. Krav Maga is a martial art designed by and for the Israeli Special Forces focused on kicking the shit out of the other guy. Grappling and floor fighting and katas and forms and whatever aren’t going to help you kill the other guy and get away as undamaged as possible; Krav Maga will. That’s awesome. I remember the physical confidence I had when studying Jiu Jitsu and I would like to possess that again.

Really, I’d like to go into my 30s (June 17, 2012) looking, feeling, and being as good as I can. I spent my 20s fucking off and doing whatever and getting my career in order, so now it’s time to get my body and my head in order. I’d like to have a head start. That’s where this is all leading. The slowing my roll, the projects, the myriad year themes: they’re all directed at putting me into a better place than I was yesterday. I think that’s important. I owe it not just to myself, but to the people I love and who love me, to the people who rely on me and the people who will come to rely on me, to be healthy and sane and productive. You can’t take care of your folks when you’re a fucking mess. I know that. And that’s all that life is, you and your people. Do your best to be your best in everything.

Ok, /end Joe’s life philosophy. I’ll check back in after November with thoughts about that month and, perhaps, thoughts about next year’s theme. Exciting. Stay tuned.

Mountain Dew Game Fuel Raid, or, my first real VO job.

Yeah! Check this shit out! So, I didn’t really want to talk about this too much until it was all done because I was stupid excited about it, but I finally got my first real voice over job, something I’ve been doing here at work for years and years. Tons of practice. This also means that I am now SAG eligible which has been a hurdle in the past.

“We LOVE your voice! Are you SAG?”

“Nope.”

“Ah, too bad.”

And that’s a shame because the paper work required to get me in, the Taft Hartley, requires about 30 seconds of work. Luckily, this time, they thought I was worth it! Yay!

I am actually in the spot twice. Primarily at the end over the tag doing my best Macho Man Randy Savage impersonation. “GET DOUBLE XP WHEN YOU SNAP INTO A SLIMJIM OH YEAHHHHH!!!” And then again, snuck into the middle doing my best Starcraft impersonation saying “target acquired.”

The promo is running through 12/31, the spot is national, and it’s clearly tied into the new Call of Duty game, so with Christmas approaching those of you with television will probably see this air like crazy. So exciting!!

A Letter to Ugg Boots In Reference to My Extreme Hatred For Them

Ugg Boots,

You’ll notice, Ugg Boots, that I did not use the word “dear” to begin this letter. I don’t want you to hold the mistaken assumption that I have anything but the greatest contempt for you. But I don’t believe that even conveys how utterly I hate you. I possess nothing but the sincerest enmity, the most profound disdain, the most resounding loathing for you. You inflict ruin on the feet and ankles of women everywhere, women gullible enough to believe that how they appear to other people is less important than that their little toesies are warm and cuddly. You are emblematic of the laziness that is ruining humanity. For every silly woman wearing you with tucked in sweatpants and a sweatshirt or North Face fleece (the gray and black one, you know the one I am talking about) I want to kick a defenseless puppy. I shed a tear for the future of the human race every time I see a pink pair attempting to navigate the filthy Manhattan snowbanks. I want to choke someone until I see the light drain out of their eyes every time I see a mother/daughter pair dressed similarly, wearing Uggs, and holding shopping bags.

You are the ruin of The United States of America.

As a Californian, I never experienced a real winter until I moved to the North East. The worst we had it, Ugg Boots, was 40 degree days, perhaps a frost over night. But it never snowed. Never sustained sub-freezing temperatures. Never had to worry that the wind chill was going to make it feel like temperatures below 0°F (-18°C). Yet people would flip their living shit about the “cold” and how “freezing” it was. And that’s when you came out, Ugg Boots, on the feet every silly, stupid college girl going to class in her pajamas. It would be 60°F (16°C) and girls would be out with fleeces and Uggs and I would want to stab them.

Even here in New York, you’ll start seeing your hideous visage as early as September once nature delicately hints that perhaps maybe it might just not be warm enough to wear flip flops anymore. Then I must endure you until May when the sweat on a person’s brow suggests that perhaps maybe it might just be too warm to continue wearing vile, wool-lined skin tubes your feet.

That segues nicely into another gripe of mine. Winter boots need not be ugly, shapeless masses of material slipped onto the foot. They can be stylish, too. They can accentuate a figure, the can add height, they can be designed. But you, horrid defiler, you are not. You make women—even women who might have lovely, slender ankles—appear as if they have wooden pylons for ankles. The only thing I find more unflattering than you, Ugg Boots, is track marks.

Look, I’ll admit something to you, something that pains me to no end. I once purchased a pair of you for an ex. I know, I know. The self-loathing will never cease. It was our first Christmas and she had moved to New York not long before. I got her a pair of the black ones and she wore them for years until it became painfully and slushily obvious that you were not up to the job of keeping her feet dry as well as warm against the New York winter.

In summation, you can go to hell along with wedges, sweatpants with words on the ass, Ed Hardy clothes, and Tap Out. A winter without you would be the most pleasant summer of my life.

Sincerely,

The Black Laser.

Reptar’s “Blastoff”

Here’s another break-up song, but more triumphant than the last one. I honestly know nothing at all about these guys and I am way too lazy to google them so you’ll have to deal with having zero description. You know what? Let’s make up a story.

Thomaz Klinglebaum, originally a member of Lithuanian EBM group Deine Ende, found himself DJing regularly in Berlin after the dissolution of his EBM group. One night after a long set of minimal tech house and gabber (strange mix, right?) he met with Anders Lutz, another DJ on the German house scene. Over a few litres of prime German beer and a pack of Nat Shermans, they discovered they both had an affinity for positive dreamy dance beats that they felt were lacking from the dour, sparse musical palate of tech house. They got together and produced the first Reptar record, releasing only a few 12″ singles of their now infamous underground sleeper hit, “A Blister’s Name.”

After their successful world tour opening for Daft Punk, Klinglebaum and Lutz went back to the studio to write their second record. When they had trouble making it come together in a fashion they were pleased with, they recruited indie rock icon Simon Spinwell, formerly of the now-defunct Possible Target, to provide soulful vocals and a little bit of flare to their recipe for musical greatness. “Blastoff” is the first single from that second record, and was inspired by Spinwell’s break up with pop starlet Angie Murch, or as people know her, Ms. Future.

See? That wasn’t so hard, was it? I bet their real story is more interesting than mine, but that would require some measure of research on my part and we all know that The Black Laser does not research. Are you still reading this?