The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Film of the Week!

This week's film is one that I like to think I've outgrown.  The thing about outgrowing something--or even just growing up--is that, in my opinion, it should not be done completely.  There is hopefully, after all, some positive element in something you've outgrown that you were initially drawn to and want to hold on to and remember in perpetuity.  Consequently, I think it's important to revisit certain things to remember and even reinforce those positive elements.

I often refer to this film and the novel on which it was based in these weekly rantings (check out this week's Album "sermon" if you don't believe me).  When the movie came out in the spring of 2000, I have to say that I don't think I had ever identified with a protagonist more.  I still do in many respects.  The book then became one of my favourite novels.

A friend of mine who also identified with it when he was younger--possibly even more than me--told me he had recently re-watched it and couldn't believe that at one point he actually wanted to be that character.   After all, he's cranky, a bit of a jerk, self-centered, and immature.  When I think about it, I don't think I ever particularly wanted to be that character--I just was that character... to a point.

Rob Gordon is a pop culture geek and compulsive list maker who owns a record store and has a great deal of relationship drama, much of which he caused.  Throughout the movie, we get to see Rob stumble along somewhat blindly trying to sort it all out.

Even though my friend may not agree, I'll defend Rob.  Not for the egregious things he did to screw everything up--he even agrees with his ex's friend that he's a "fucking asshole"--but because he acknowledges it and makes a genuine effort to be a better person.  I honestly think that by the end of the film Rob has matured considerably and is a better person than he was at the beginning.  But I also like to think that even though he was able to sort out his relationship issues, he was able to hold on to all the things--like the pop culture geek stuff and compulsive list-making--that made me identify with him in the first place.  And it's those elements that I still like to revisit from time to time--primarily because I also share them.

And while I've certainly had my share of relationship drama--I'm pretty sure we all have--I hope I'm not now and never was as screwed up as Rob.  In the 26 years since the movie came out, I like to think I'm also a bit more mature than I was then, and I hope I never was the "fucking asshole" Rob was.  Certainly age and the passage of time have caused me to alter my perspective on a lot of things.

John Cusack stars in the film as Rob.  He also co-produced and co-wrote the screenplay with Steve Pink and D.V. DeVincentis, based on the novel by Nick Hornby.  (A couple of key details were altered from the book--namely Rob's last name was changed from Fleming to Gordon and the action was moved from London to Chicago.)

Directed by Stephen Frears, the film co-stars Jack Black, Lisa Bonet, Joan Cusack (John's sister), Iben Hjejle, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Natasha Gregson Wagner, Lili Taylor, and Tim Robbins.  This week, please enjoy High Fidelity.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

 

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Album of the Week!

I could go into a whole long screed about this week's album (originally released in 1966), why I like it, why it might be Bob Dylan's masterpiece, but you probably already know all that.  Instead, I think that the character of Barry (played by Jack Black) said it best in the movie High Fidelity when he said, "You don't have it?  That is perverse.  Don't tell anybody you don't own fucking Blonde on Blonde."

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that it's gonna be okay. (Virtual hug.)

Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

 

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents a Bonus Album of the Week! (One From the Vault!)

I stumbled upon this earlier today.  It's the very first Album of the Week "sermon" I ever wrote, posted to Facebook on this date in 2019.  Looking back on it now, I'm surprised at how little I rambled--to be fair, my commentary today isn't as limited as I initially wanted these to be.  What can I say?  Verbosity has always been my strong suit.  I also hadn't come up with my traditional sign-off at that point.  Enjoy!

 

I used to email friends and family a song every week with some commentary about what was going on in the world (or at least my own little corner of it). Many of you probably remember this. I stopped doing that after Dad died because I felt I'd run out of things to say. A lot of people have told me how much they miss that, so I'm going to try something new. Each week (or nearly every week--I'm sure I'll forget to do this once in awhile), I'll recommend an entire album. Commentary will be limited to the album itself and will offer no real reflection on the outside world. To kick it off this week:

 

There is a new biography about Janis Joplin by Holly George-Warren. The book is simply titled "Janis." While reading reviews, I got the urge to listen to the one album of Janis's that is often overlooked. It was not a big hit and even Janis herself apparently had to convince herself she was not a failure as a solo artist.

 

Released in 1969, I Got Dem Ol' Kozmic Blues Again Mama! was Janis just starting out as a solo act after leaving Big Brother and the Holding Company with whom she'd established fame the previous year. Fifty years on, I still don't think it gets the recognition it deserves. I listened to it again this afternoon. Two things stand out to me. Firstly the horns. They wouldn't have worked in the songs she sang with Big Brother. But also her singing, which, depending on whether you're a fan or a critic, is either deeply soulful or it sounds like a cat in heat with laryngitis. I forgot how much I particularly enjoyed the track "As Good As You've Been To This World." Her version of Nina Simone's "Little Girl Blue" actually had me in tears. I mean literally sobbing. As sublime a vocalist as Simone was--and Janis would agree with me on that point--her version never did that to me. Come to think of it, neither did Janis's version until today.

 

I often describe Janis's singing as "soulful ferocity" (my term--copyright pending). The only other person to whom I apply that description is Joe Cocker.

 

Feel free to enjoy and discuss.

 

Yours always,

The Reverend Will the Thrill

 

 

 

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Film of the Week!

This past week marked an important anniversary in many of our childhoods.  It was 100 years ago, on 14 October, 1926, that author A.A. Milne published his first collection of stories in the UK, featuring Edward Bear, or, as he became known to children the world over, Winnie the Pooh.

Milne began writing the stories after his son, Christopher Robin Milne, received a stuffed bear for his birthday.  The elder Milne began writing stories about Pooh and his menagerie of friends including Eeyore, Piglet, Tigger, Owl, Rabbit, Kanga, and Roo and all of their wonderful misadventures with Christopher Robin in the Hundred Acre Wood.

Milne wrote only one other collection of Pooh stories in 1928, The House at Pooh Corner.  However, Pooh's legacy has lived on through the works of many other authors.  In 1961, in what's become the fate of so many classic childhood stories, the rights were purchased by the Walt Disney Company.  Like so many people today, this is the image of Pooh that I grew up with.  Those images were everywhere when I was a kid--storybooks, colouring books, stuffed toys, even stickers that later decorated Susan Tedeschi's guitar.  I remember vividly watching educational film strips in elementary school in a series called "Winnie the Pooh and the Right Thing to Do."  (I even developed what I thought was a pretty decent impression of Piglet.)

Eventually, though, children grow up.  I did... well, maybe not up, but certainly older.  And even though it was never documented in the stories, I assume Christopher Robin did as well.

I'm one of those odd people who wonders where certain fictional characters I grew up with are today.  Depending on when certain stories took place, there's a good chance they would not even be alive today.  Let's be honest, if Winnie the Pooh was first published a century ago, Christopher Robin would be older than that.  Even the real Christopher Robin died in 1996.  But one can't help but wonder what some of these characters grew into.  This week's film attempts to shed some light on that.

Set sometime after World War II, Christopher Robin (played by Ewan McGregor) is all grown up with a wife (Hayley Atwell) and a daughter (Bronte Carmichael) and even a grown-up job.  Christopher works for a luggage manufacturer and has been assigned by his boss (Mark Gattis) to spend the weekend cutting costs--and probably some employees--instead of spending it with his wife and daughter.

Clearly distraught and unsure of how to proceed, he is confronted and comforted by his old friends from the Hundred Acre Wood.  Together they help Christopher solve his problems--both professionally and personally--and help him get back to his wife and daughter.

Released in 2018, the film was written by Alex Ross Perry, Tom McCarthy, and Allison Schroeder (from a story by Greg Brooker and Mark Steven Johnson), and was directed by Marc Forster.  Featuring the voices of Jim Cummings (Pooh and Tigger), Brad Garrett (Eeyore), Nick Mohammed (Piglet), Peter Capaldi (Owl), Sophie Okonedo (Kanga), Sara Sheen (Roo), and Toby Jones (Owl), please enjoy Christopher Robin.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Album of the Week!

I find it interesting how frequently--especially at my age--I get asked what my favourite colour is.  It does feel like something one would ask a grade-schooler.  Although, to be honest with you, I still enjoy answering those kinds of questions.

For the record, just to satisfy everyone's curiosity, my favourite colour has always been blue and the varying shades in which it can present itself.  From the time I was little, I've always found it very soothing.  But, as I got older, I realized that blue is not just a colour.  It's a mood, a state of mind, and an amazing style of music.  The really cool part is that the music can actually relieve the mood and state of mind.  Blue is nothing if not versatile.

I've always loved the blues--the music--just for the simple fact that it's the basis for so many other styles of music.  Jazz, rock, R&B, soul, rap, and hip-hop all have their roots in the blues.

I've been listening to quite a bit of blues music lately.  I tend to be a bit reflective and blues-leaning at this time of year.  I don't know what necessarily causes it.  It could be the changing of the leaves, the dropping of the temperatures.  I may just be sensitive to certain anniversaries, good and bad, that occur at this time of the year.  In fact, I'm still convinced that today, 17 October, is the anniversary of something obscure that only means something to me, but I can't remember what.  (I actually thought it might be the Saturday Night Massacre of 1973, but that occurred on 20 October.)

As much as I do love the music of John Lee Hooker--my go-to artist when I need to hear the blues--sometimes you need to switch things up a bit.  I pulled this week's album off the shelf a couple weeks ago and have found myself returning to it quite a bit since.

I first became aware of this album when I worked at Barnes & Noble.  I had not yet become the manager of the music department, but I spent a lot of time there during my lunch breaks.  At the time, we had a "listening wall" where you could check out select titles the company was featuring.  This album happened to be among those on the wall.

I don't know why I decided to check that one out specifically, but I did.  I was immediately taken with both the artist's guitar playing as well as her voice, which sounded as if Janis Joplin had come back from the grave.  (In fact, she was born one month after Joplin died.)

I began to look at the cover, which featured her posing with her guitar.  I was quite amused by the Winnie the Pooh stickers that adorned her instrument.  But then, something else caught my attention--what appeared to be a familiar-looking signature scrawled at the bottom.  When I looked closer, I realized that blues legend Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown had autographed her guitar.  Even though she and I have never met, I felt an immediate bond with her as I also have Brown's autograph on a picture and ticket stub from a show in 1997.  It still hangs proudly on the wall in my music room.

I fell in love with that album and to this day, it's still my favourite of hers.  About a year later, the day before I officially became the Barnes & Noble music department manager, I had the distinct pleasure of seeing her perform live at the first Indianapolis Jazz and Blues Festival in the summer of 1999.  It still ranks as one of the best live performances I have ever seen.

Originally released in February of 1998, this week, please enjoy Susan Tedeschi's second album, Just Won't Burn.  (The enclosed link is for the expanded edition released in 2023 for the album's 25th anniversary.)

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Film of the Week!

I've written in the past about my days selling music and movies at Barnes & Noble.  The crew I worked with in that department once I'd moved to northern Indiana still cracks me up.  We would have geeky pop culture discussions.  Best albums by a particular artist, best songs to play at a particular time on a particular day... whatever struck our fancy.  As I've said, it was like being in the record store in the film High Fidelity (or the novel), only under a corporate banner.

One day, the subject turned to concert films.  When it came to what we thought was the best, I noticed that we seemed split between Jonathan Demme's 1984 film about Talking Heads, Stop Making Sense, and Martin Scorsese's film about The Band's last concert, The Last Waltz.  For reasons passing understanding, I have never seen Stop Making Sense.  I don't know why--I'm a fan of both Jonathan Demme and Talking Heads.  Consequently, I always seemed to pick The Last Waltz.  (For more, you can read what I posted here on 25 January of last year.)

In the years since that discussion, I have seen one other concert film that I feel should be in contention for anyone's list of greatest concert films.

The event was a three-day festival at the Monterey County Fairgrounds in Monterey, California, organized by John Phillips of The Mamas & The Papas, record producer Lou Adler, Alan Pariser, and Derek Taylor.  The Monterey Pop Festival was a celebration of rock music as a legitimate art form, featuring performances from both well-known artists like The Who and Simon & Garfunkel, but also artists from that area of California including The Grateful Dead, Jefferson Airplane, and Big Brother & The Holding Company who weren't as well-known... yet.

D.A. Pennebaker and his crew filmed all the action during that three-day period from 16-18 June, 1967.  During that time, he captured some career-defining--and, in some cases, career-establishing--performances.  After her appearance with Big Brother in Monterey, Janis Joplin became a star.  Otis Redding performed for the first time in front of a largely white audience bringing his R&B stylings to a much broader audience.  (Tragically, he died in a plane crash a mere six months later.)  And Jimi Hendrix blew everyone's minds by making sounds with his guitar that no one had ever heard a guitar make before.

The resulting film, Monterey Pop, was released in 1968 and perfectly captured the hippie/counterculture zeitgeist of the time.  Everything and everyone seemed cool, groovy, and peaceful, and, unlike Woodstock, the weather cooperated.

Full disclosure--I was not alive in the 1960s.  When I watch the film, part of me wishes I had been.  Another part of me is glad that, due to technological advancements made since 1967--particularly in film--I didn't have to wait 50 years to see the film the way I first saw it.

One year when Barnes & Noble was having a sale on Criterion DVDs and blu-rays, I took a chance and bought a 3-disc set titled "The Complete Monterey Pop."  It contained not only the original movie, but a second disc featuring over two hours of performance footage that was cut from the final film, which is only 79 minutes long.  The third disc contains the complete performances of Jimi Hendrix and Otis Redding.  (Comedian Tommy Smothers was intent on introducing Redding to the crowd.  He later confessed that that was the only time he ever appeared on stage high.)

This week, please enjoy my pick (at least for the time being) for best concert film, D.A. Pennebaker's Monterey Pop--especially if you can get your hands on that 3-disc Criterion set.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill

 

The Reverend Will the Thrill Presents the Album of the Week!

I recently read an article in The New York Times about a new book detailing the making of Paul Simon's landmark album Graceland.  This year marks the album's 40th anniversary.  (?!?!--I know, right?  40!  I can barely believe it my own self!)  The book, Days of Miracle and Wonder, was written by Ashley Kahn, who was a member of the Graceland tour's production team. 

Apparently--and I haven't read the book, although I'd like to--it brings up a lot of old debates and issues.  Kahn apparently presents valid perspectives on both sides of those debates.  When I think about it with (again) 40 FREAKING YEARS of hindsight, those debates and issues were things I somehow missed when the album came out.  An argument could be made that I was too young to fully understand them.

If you were too young to remember the brouhaha, or, if you just need a refresher course--a lot of artists in the 1980s boycotted the country of South Africa for its policy of apartheid.  Long story short--Simon broke that boycott and traveled to South Africa.  There he connected with musicians that he'd heard on a bootleg cassette someone had given him.  He was inspired to record Graceland, largely in South Africa, with them.

(It should also be noted that the album features contributions from noted American artists including Linda Ronstadt, Los Lobos, Good Rockin' Dopsie and The Twisters, and even his early idols The Everly Brothers.)

When the album was released, it introduced many Americans to South African performers such as The Gaza Sisters, The Boyoyo Boys, and Ladysmith Black Mambazo.  While many praised the album--it did go on to be nominated for four Grammy Awards, winning two for Album of the Year and Record of the Year--many cried foul and essentially accused Simon of cultural appropriation, a debate which apparently continues to this day.  Even Linda Ronstadt's appearance generated controversy.

I was 12 when the album was released.  As I said, somehow I have no recollection of the controversy.  At the time, I was more enamoured with the music of my parents' generation than my own.  When "You Can Call Me Al" hit the charts, I was just pleased that someone I actually liked was getting radio play.  (My sister and I even developed our own hand motions for the third verse.)  I only became aware of the controversy after watching the DVD that came with the special 25th anniversary edition of the CD.

But, like a lot of Americans, I was entranced by the music.  It was different.  It was exciting.  It was new... to us, anyway.  I even became a fan of Ladysmith Black Mambazo.  According to the Times article, Mark Braude wrote that in his book, Kahn presented Simon's argument of the whole "appropriation" debate, which is that, "music is by nature a fluid, unsteady thing, to be shared and misheard and re-evaluated by anyone and everyone, thriving through cross-pollination."  Honestly, I think it worked--beautifully.

I personally have issues with the whole "cultural appropriation" argument.  I know it's easy for me to say as a white guy and I'm not saying it didn't actually happen--especially in the early days of rock 'n' roll--but I genuinely feel that if you aspire to do anything, especially anything creative, you will take what came before you and influenced and inspired you, appropriate it, and--if you're really good--synthesize it into something that is uniquely yours.  If you're even better, your fans will seek out those influences and become fans themselves.  It's always worked for me.

I reject the notion that Simon appropriated anything.  And I don't do this outright because I'm white or a fan of his music.  I've actually given this a lot of thought and consideration.  It's because of Graceland that I am a fan of Ladysmith Black Mambazo--whose members have referred to Simon as their brother--and have a deep appreciation for African music in general.  It's because of Graceland that I am a fan of zydeco music.  Am I not allowed to appreciate these things just because they were introduced to me by a famous white American musician?  That just doesn't seem right to me.  But the debate continues.  And, honestly, I think it should continue.  Please, by all means... debate away.

What I really love is the fact that Graceland wasn't the beginning or the end of Simon's musical exploration.  His next album moved to another country on another continent and explored new sounds and cultures.  Weirdly, I don't remember any controversy over this album.  Maybe it was because Nelson Mandela was out of prison and apartheid was on the verge of ceasing to exist.  Maybe nobody cared if he experimented with Brazilian music and musicians.  Maybe they did but thought it was pointless to complain--people and critics loved Graceland, they would probably love this one too.

Maybe there was a controversy and, like with Graceland, I missed it too.  Because, like with Graceland, I was so taken with what I was hearing that any issues with it went over my head.  I'm probably in the minority on this, but I'll go as far as to say that I like this album better than Graceland.  It might even be my favourite of his albums--or if it isn't, it's certainly close.

The album featured appearances by Uakti, Grupo Cultural Olodum, Milton Nascimento,  both Randy and Michael Brecker, J.J. Cale, Jerry Douglas, and even Ladysmith Black Mambazo, among many others.  It went on to receive two Grammy nominations including Album of the Year. This week, please enjoy the one and only Paul Simon with his 1990 release, The Rhythm of the Saints.

Until next week, stay safe, be good to your neighbours, and please remember that if at first you don't succeed, then skydiving definitely isn't for you.

Yours in peace, love, and rock 'n' roll!

The Reverend Will the Thrill