I Don't Like Pumpkins

Comissioner Gordon Bombay

Hello Friends,

First thing's first:

WHO IS THE CUTEST?




Il Fordinho from Calscary Al-Hurta (Calgary AB) haas made a mix that I am loving. Dude has zeroed in on the common rhythms from around the world that have been underscoring many jamming dance ditties these last few years. Dude says:

"I remember in the 90's when I used to "Rave" these CD comps that came out called Ethnotechno. No matter how ridiculous the name seems now, the title seems to be very appropriate for a lot of the dance music coming out right now. This mix is for a serial "E" trip, no special K please. Man I miss getting high. Just kidding, druggies."

I have a folder on my computer called "Unicef" and am happy that this dude beat me to the curation of such a tape, because it bangs like the stamp on a passport and blends like once disparate cultures. It's filled with that "ethnic*" sound that is pefect for your barrio bombox, suburban spin class, drive to school, piazza Cappuccino, or coup d'etat. I'm using it to get psyched about Curling and Hockey.

Il Fordinho - Ethnicity Volume Uno



Slovakia vs Canada tonight! Getting ready:



*Italics and visible air finger "quotes" are used to allow less imaginative readers to get the right latte sipping lilt on the word ethnic.

Slow Vacuous

"Some people believe the Mayan myth that the world is going to end in 2012. Personally, I'm excited for 2012 because Dakota Fanning's birthday means I'm not a pervert anymore"
-Scoops

Adam Gopnik for Thine New Yorker on Canada vs Russia (literary references)

Speaking of iced canes, we were victorious against the Ruskies, and I have almost recovered from all the syrup I chugged in triumph.



Tomorrow night! Slovakia. A bunch of venerable killer players who can make it through the game at their advanced ages thanks to the courtesy of the olympics not letting dudes punch them in the face and stab them with sticks.

For The Strange Love Of The Game

The Canadian assembly of millionaire superstars were able to beat Germany tonight.

Tomorrow. Russia.



We have nothing to fear but fear itself. Well, that and not having a shot at a medal, and the ensuing laughingstockery to which we will be subjected.

"I don't know how it could get much worse, unless the Russians happen to get up there first."
-Bob Dylan

Usually reserved for the NHL playoff posts, here's Zevon's TOP SHELF CLASSIC!

Party. Serious.

The Wiz and I were in discussion about websites and google buzz, while getting googley eyed and catching a buzz on Friday. His feelings on this site being: "Bro! You came back strong, but now you're dropping the ball. You got to get up like EVERY DAY." I'm with this, so expect posts of lil stuff I discover in addition to the full blown banter, journailzingers or polemics.

Today, I present:

TWO YOU TUBE VIDEOS AND A MOTHERFUCKING CROSSFADER DOT COM



See you soon loyal faithful, I have a draft to finish before I start yelling "NAZI!" at hard working German Olympians that dare to score on Roberto Luongo.

The Baron made me laugh hard the other night in a lamentable loss to the Yanks (read Caps full on lambasting here), when he said "At least we have Crosby and Nash, if only we could get Stills and Young on there we'd be good."

Full Car: Took The Trunk To The Bar

Hey Blogopolis,

This space will continue to be a regular source of things worth checking. The 100 or so of you who look here every day are beloved. You don't know. I wish you did, but there's just so much I don't know about you. If you visit here, you probably love being put onto or reminded of songs. Here's two that are jamming like a drum circle that cures apathy on a Saturday.

Sincerely,

The Proprietor

Cold World

The worst thing about the depths of winter in our inhabitable northern cities is the effect it has on already crusty people's attitudes. Well, no, it's the freezing cold. The cutting, destructive, heartless, racist cold, that is the worst. The bad attitudes that worsen inside the crusty, that is the second worst.

It's freezing here in Canada's business capital, somewhere in Vancouver a dude is taking his sailboat out, in LA a guy goes skateboarding in a t-shirt and in Winnipeg, a gang of dudes hang out in a basement loving that it is so cold nobody can expect them to go outside.

Here's one to shiver to:

Do It, Dude (Crazy Heart Review)

Since this blog is not being retired/deaded/put out to pasture/pasteurised/euthanised, it is time to start with the new features. Here's one:

Keep It 1000: A Review In 1000 Words or Less Where We Don’t Ruin The Story

Crazy Heart (2009)
Directed by Scott Cooper
Written by Scott Cooper based on a novel by Thomas Cobb
“The harder the life, the sweeter the song”

This movie begins with a dude. A Dude in the Rio Bravo Dean Martin tradition of an alcoholic Cowboy at the end of his rope, struggling to hang himself, if only he could keep his hand steady. Not literally. Read on dear cinephile, there are no suicide spoilers in this review.

Crazy Heart is a film about a dude digging himself. Our hero is played by the soft and weathered Jeff Bridges, known for playing THE Dude in The Big Lebowski (Coen, 1998). The Lebowski comparisons are ineveitable and may be claptrap that you’ll hear a horn-rimmed greenhorn spouting over ironic PBR (ordering cans, in a bar, dude they have TAPS in bars) this weekend, but permit me one observation: Our dude, in this film, shows up at a bowling alley that is not a respite nor office nor social club: it is his venue. Former superstar Bad Blake has been reduced to playing dives across a lonely, infinite, and panoramic American Southwest that is as filled with vistas as our protagonists chain smoking and sour mash barf bouts are tinged with hubris. This is a whole other breed of dude and the opening scene at the bowling alley is a firm reminder that we will not be seeing Jesus, the bowler or the saviour. Through Bad Blake, Bridges gives us a bitter and haunted glimpse at a entertainer who has been going through the motions for so long that he doesn’t know his wheels have come off and his truck is in the ditch.

The film moves like a road trip or a tour. There is no stopping its move towards resolution at the edge of a final breathtaking vista. The dialogue is casual, the characters real, the scenes wear jeans. You can feel the disaster looming, and there are plenty of broken strings, disconnections and showers of gravel along the way, but what makes Crazy Heart feel so good is that it is tender without being too sympathetic. The journey for Bad Blake is fraught with trouble, but only the kind of trouble that he has earned, and is willing to take to the bank and find out what it’s worth.

The life of the country musician has almost made Blake as irrelevant in the world of the living as he is in the music industry. This film handles the change in country music, where the once badass heroes of slang, twang and doin’ thurr thang have been replaced by pop stars. Contemporary country embodies little of the outlaw spirit that is at the core of western, rap, rock and much of the powerful lyric driven music of our times. This film is not a Country song about how sad it is that you can’t make a decent country song. It is a tip of the Stetson to the solid axiom that problems need to be fixed, be it in your life, your craft or your love. It just happens to be about a country musician, and having lived in the country and the city, we all need to listen to more Country Music (which is provided by T Bone Burnett who brought Appalachian Folk to the suburbs in Oh Brother Where Art Thou, so he might just get slow burner tear-in-my-beer Ballads to downtown headphones).

The world of Crazy Heart is backed-up by the reality that a country musician can still sell records. That the songs these guys and gals record in Nashville and Los Angeles still get bought. The stakes are high in this regard, and for Bad Blake the dirt road to renaissance is waiting to be paved with tears, the mud, the blood and the beer. This is what makes Bad Blake decent to watch. The fights that cause a Cowboy to get thrown through swinging saloon doors and into the shit filled gutter are the beating heart of the Western Music that made us deify Johnny Cash with regard more to what he had learned than how much cash was rolling in. Bad Blake is knocked down, but he’s not dead yet, in fact he is just getting up.

The Dude Jeff Lebowski could abide. Bad Blake doesn’t get to choose. Jeff Bridges takes us on a trip through the music and country in which a man who truly “fits right in there” has to be able to stand under his own power and deliver it.

Jason Parker Quinton

Additional Notes That Should Encourage A Viewing:

1) Maggie Gyllenhaal felt a few years too young as the love interest, but her performance is detailed and captivating as usual. My friend Allison thinks she is “too thin” and that Hollywood needs to get their shit together and put some real women on the screen. Not just emotionally real, but with hips (see Precious (Daniels, 2009). But, ya know…white women… not named Streep.

2) Robert Duvall is in it. There is a scene where Jeff Bridges and Robert Duvall go fishing and talk about fatherhood. Yo!

3) The film was preceeded by a trailer for the upcoming “Kenny Chesney In 3D” which underscored where the music and cinema are at right now. The tricks and the cheese are all accepted easily, but great characters, handled with aplomb by filmmakers who take their time still seem to be acceptable.

Let's Go

Greetings readers,

This blog will be returning shortly. No nifty re-design. No hosting service for Mp3's. No frills. No shirt. No shoes. No dice.

There have been choices made at headquarters about: do we really want to participate in the deluge of disposable bloggery and unnecessary bafflegab that clogs our internets?

Well, the answer is yes. There will be words here. Tell a friend or call the cops or cut us from your bookmarks.

We Still Grill.

Not Dead Yet

Jazz Trance

Paul F Tompkins - Jazz

Tell Me Something Good

Humbug mode, on standby. Coal sack, stocked. Reindeer meat, thawing.

Be not fooled ye merry ladies and gentlemen. It's not Christmas on this blog. Not yet.

We've put up no decoration in the Grilling it offices, in fact, we lost all the candles for the menorah and have had to resort to reefers in their stead. The Christmas celebration doesn't begin until December 20th, we're not even playing the Dipset, Bob Dylan, Eek A Mouse or Hello Kitty holiday records yet, but I pause the Scroogery to bring you the issue of the 2009 Christmas Number One.

The Christmas Number One is a hallowed holiday tradition from the land of cobbled stone, clotted cream and overs of the Ashes over pints of wife-beater.

Yes. England.

A land where people still line-up (sorry, "queue")on the sidewalk (ahem, "pavement") to clutch Cd single's the day they come out. This year, due to a movement on Facebook; Rage Against The Machine are in the lead for this year's sales title. Hip Britons are gobbling up the MP3 of "Killing In The Name," as it rocks alongside a tune by their latest reality TV singing star Joe McElderry.

The pop song seems the natural choice, but following each other like a yonder star, Rage might just win through the glory of the internet.

Here for your enjoyment and bemusement are our favourite of the Christmas number ones:

1965



1975



1981



2000



2009?



Will the subjects of Queen Elizabeth II's kingdom have the bandwidth to say "Fuck You, I won't Do What You Tell Me!" Can glorious indignant rock of the 90's spit in the face of Simon Cowell's latest pop of mush out of the telly mold? Oh Nine could end with a lot of spine.

Get Up, Get Out, Get Something

Call Of Duty

Inside The Rap Artist Studio (No Lipton)

Do you have seven minutes to listen to Mos Def talking about why he loves MF Doom?

"De La are technicians...that's on some Steely Dan shit."
-Mos Def

What Does It All Mean

Trying to meet writing deadlines, moving to a new house, working as a bartender...has me shook like I'm Mike Shank.

Know Know

The pitching of a Major League no-hitter on LSD is unfathomable to most. Prepare for a heavy dose of strong fathomability in this animated documentary about one of the greatest, hippest sports stories ever dropped.



This is like getting a shutout in the NHL, on mushrooms. No?

Research Breaks

The process running an operation like Grilling It Video Entertainment, involves a great deal of research. We mill through thousands upon thousands of videos a year, and are inspired by...and...inspired to share, a stellar few.

Comfort Food

Ass Toot Observation

When you trifle in the comments section of youtubes, you can find absolute winners buried in and cloaked as a wild and real glut of gobbledygook. This blog post is about an interesting video about the hidden magic codes in the Manitoba "Ledge" Legislature building, and as an hor d'ouvre...some comments from previous viewers.

ISSUESTHATMATTERMOST: I've gotten stoned there too on 4/20 but I find the leg. bldg both intriguing and creepy as it is on a vein of 'evil' for lack of a better word or time.

Smartfan2: This is not glory to God. It is blasphemy in its highest form. Satanic!

DalesChannel: WHAT THE FWAWK THIS IS AMAZANG

I think Daleschannel speaks for all of us.

Then there's this cool dispute about whether or not the buidling is in the geographic center of the continent...oh man...you shoulda seen it, the this one guy, nicknamed like 88773354 is all: "The geographical center of North America is in a town called Rugby, Noorth Dakota, except he spells it right...anyway...there's apparently this sweet monument about being in the center there. Google road trip? Wikication? Ok.

The comments that I liked most were usually short.

Bye



Since the title of this post includes the word "Observation." Let us observe...THE SABBATH!

Fuckin' CLASSIC...mannnnnnn....

Since the vast majority of Grilling It readers are American, we try to avoid specific, nostalgic Manitobicanadiana....well, hell, this came up....

Wizzed Out

Cancer Awareness

Hey Gang,

Jason Parker Quinton, Music Journalist here with another desktop chart topper.

I'm still shopping my my treatise on "Over Stock: Selling-Out In Music In The Digital Age" around the bigger buildings downtown, so I can't go to deep into this video, let I give away parts of the the rising tension in the second act.

Just kidding. The book is called "Waits or Will.I.Am: Sucking Dick Because Your Shop Got Burgled"

However.

I hope Dude N Nem didn't get any money from McDonald's. I hope they made this song, because they genuinely like McDonald's, and their girl is so special they done took her there. That makes me feel good on a Friday.



Here is the Dude N Nem (best band name ever?), MONSTER JAM from 2007.

DUDE N NEM - Watch My Feet (Remix Feat Twista)

Novemberance Day

Farmed from Caps-Ton America

At 11:11 on 11/11 I was on an underground train going to meet great friends for brunch. No need to fight.

Section S - Winnipeg Stadium

It may be because I'm currently living in Toronto, a city where I can't get behind any of the local sports teams. It may be because I'm a bit of a scofflaw. It may be because I wish I was there...

Let's say, for the record (and the cops reading the blogs) that because of lines like the following, I share this link:

"A struggle ensued with the intoxicated fan before a middle-aged man -- who was described as being dressed like Hulk Hogan -- could be wrestled from his seat."

"several others officers who assisted were showered with beer."

Bomber Fans Assault Police

Now, a jovial, happy, football image:

Red Rubber Ball

Farmed from Bateman's blog...Everything On The Sly

Into The Mistral

My homies Al Jazeera (aka Apple Jam) and Drugs Delaney (aka Ch-ch-ch-Chames) are founding members of the Elk Aida Windsurfing Collective(named after the haunted and magical island seen above). These are dudes who spend their time crushing beers, smashing 10's and cranking Jeezy (or Neil Young, The Talking Heads, GZA or Bob D, but that's the starting squad) and following their gale forced passion for windsurfing, aided by a gang of bon-vivants, shredders, painters, sports fans, and the occasional Peter Pan manboy.

They've started a fresh website called "Windsurf Your Goddamn Face Off" that tips the dudicalometer into the red at a reading of 11.4 They even did it up in a classic windsurfing colour scheme.

Highest goddamn recommendation.

WINDSURF YOUR GODDAMN FACE OFF



PS: Somebody even gave me the keys to the shed
PSS: I got that map from http://vbpolice.ca
PSSS: Ha ha ha

Hungover Insomniac Stunts Theatre

It is, still...kinda close to Halloween.

THIS YEAR HALLOWEEN FELL ON A WEEKEND

The Phone

I'm in the middle of heavy research, which includes re-watching Wet Hot American Summer. Shout out to Scoops, who used to keep a VHS and DVD copy of the film in his backpack, just in case.



If you call my old UK cell phone, a version of me singing the next song is prolly still the voicemail greeting answering machine electronic message recording:

DE LA SOUL - Ring Ring (Ha Ha Hey)

This next choon is a cover of Soulja Boy by dude supreme Sammy Bananas and his friend, chanteuse Maggie Horn. It also features a verse by a guy from hipcat NYC band Ninjasonik that might make you think they don't totally suck (they totally don't totally suck).

Regardless, give it a listen, this one tongue in cheek remake can replace/explain all the heavy effects new rap n B that you don't want to even not try to eventually not get.

TELEPHONED - Turn My Swag On

Spike Into My Veins

Will you watch anything that Spike Jonze has made? Do you not hate Kanye West? If you answered yes to either of those questions, watch this:

"We Were Once A Fairytale" - Kanye West Dir: Spike Jonze from Yooj‽ - Recording Live From No on Vimeo


KANYE WEST Featuring NAS - We Major (Kickdrums Remix)

In case that didn't do it for you, loyal reader, here's a clip from another Spike Jonze film, Fully Flared, which although not narrative celebrity fiction, is still unbelievable.

"An Old Pro Gress For Life" aka Marc Johnson's Part...

Marc johnson lakai fully flared
Uploaded by guigs-kun. -

"The Last Spike"

Willing

Wilco are the best live band in rock. I just saw them twice in two nights, and when I can even process it, I'll try to blog in as few words as possible what kind of staged spectacle they pulled off. Here are videos of the last songs they played in the encore, at the respective shows.



"Sidewalk, streetcar, dance a goofy dance..."

McKee Bump

Rocket Ship 27

So many things are good about this minute of Trailer Park Boys.

Doing Life

Jarming

Jim Jarmusch's 5 Rules (via Yurrple)

Rule #1: There are no rules. There are as many ways to make a film as there are potential filmmakers. It’s an open form. Anyway, I would personally never presume to tell anyone else what to do or how to do anything. To me that’s like telling someone else what their religious beliefs should be. Fuck that. That’s against my personal philosophy—more of a code than a set of “rules.” Therefore, disregard the “rules” you are presently reading, and instead consider them to be merely notes to myself. One should make one’s own “notes” because there is no one way to do anything. If anyone tells you there is only one way, their way, get as far away from them as possible, both physically and philosophically.



Rule #2: Don’t let the fuckers get ya. They can either help you, or not help you, but they can’t stop you. People who finance films, distribute films, promote films and exhibit films are not filmmakers. They are not interested in letting filmmakers define and dictate the way they do their business, so filmmakers should have no interest in allowing them to dictate the way a film is made. Carry a gun if necessary.



Also, avoid sycophants at all costs. There are always people around who only want to be involved in filmmaking to get rich, get famous, or get laid. Generally, they know as much about filmmaking as George W. Bush knows about hand-to-hand combat.



Rule #3: The production is there to serve the film. The film is not there to serve the production. Unfortunately, in the world of filmmaking this is almost universally backwards. The film is not being made to serve the budget, the schedule, or the resumes of those involved. Filmmakers who don’t understand this should be hung from their ankles and asked why the sky appears to be upside down.



Rule #4: Filmmaking is a collaborative process. You get the chance to work with others whose minds and ideas may be stronger than your own. Make sure they remain focused on their own function and not someone else’s job, or you’ll have a big mess. But treat all collaborators as equals and with respect. A production assistant who is holding back traffic so the crew can get a shot is no less important than the actors in the scene, the director of photography, the production designer or the director.



Hierarchy is for those whose egos are inflated or out of control, or for people in the military. Those with whom you choose to collaborate, if you make good choices, can elevate the quality and content of your film to a much higher plane than any one mind could imagine on its own. If you don’t want to work with other people, go paint a painting or write a book. (And if you want to be a fucking dictator, I guess these days you just have to go into politics...).

Rule #5: posted above

The Mayor

This cat Mayer Hawthorne is becoming a big deal. So before you sleep on it for months, and then hear one of the joints in a thirty second car commercial or a thirty minute show about phlegmatic vampires or loquacious liberal arts students, take the time to download this song, and infect yourself.

Sweet soul music released on heart shaped vinyl by a hip hop label...

Most of the record is slower burning, lighter floating, boudoir, bubblebath and backward baseball cap delicacies, but this is my jam tonight as I write:

MAYER HAWTHORNE - The Ills

A Cross

David Cross Tonight! Stay Tuned. I'm going downtown!

Watch

Starting Line-up Smoove homey Lance Dubowitz Phelps shares a jukebox classic. Check this video, an instant pop masterpiece, excellently staged within the necessary frame of mass TV of the time.

Break It Down

"if you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first invent the universe."



"I'm shakin hands with many devils in the industry
Believe the Genesis life fill with stills mean that I'm def
so like the autographs you sign until the...
Breakadawn"



"Helpless Like A Baby
Sensual Disguise
I Can't Help But Love You
It's Getting Better All The Time"

TASTE

Mad Decent have done a podcast with David Rodigan that is a must hear. When you listen to Rodigan's releases - sure, the banter is hilarious - but, what drives the whole operation is a dude digging the music that he loves the most, so hard, that it moves a crowd.

In the era of disposable songs that don't even physically exist, clean out the recycle bin in your brain and appreciate this mix, and my favourite fact from it:

Rodigan became a dj due to his large record collection, when short of money pursuing his craft, he sold pieces of his career (records).

Wild, impressive, top quality.

Rated.

Rodigan


REGGAE CHAMPION DAVID RODIGAN - MAD DECENT PODCAST #53

This Ain't A Movie Blog

"This aint' a movie dog."
Jay - Z

This is:



All I'm doing down here at the dog track, in Greektown, skirting the full on ratrace in East Toronto, watching films and TV, writing film and TV, and reading about films and tv (and reading about the writing of films and TV).

There's still a new Jay, new Rae, new Ghost, still haven't absorbed any of it. Here's what I'm listening to as I walk and write and write talkies and talk about writing(the best this "music" blog has got at the moment).





Noel S. Baker who adapted the Hard Core Logo screenplay, also wrote:

"There are days when you have to admit that life is better than movies, love is better than glory."

Shoshanna's Revenge or: Kill Hans. from George Pallidis on Vimeo.

The season premiere of Curb was bonkers by the way, Catherine O'Hara is in it. Best show on television, any genre.

I Smell Like I Sound (Fragrance Related)

I was trying to find clips of the film "Dog Park" on youtube.com and found this in its stead instead.

We're not big fans of advertisements around here, but Old Spice is a product we use (shit's like catnip!) and Big Bruce McDeezy has a pass.



I'd also post Duran Duran's amazing song and video "Hungry Like The Wolf," but EMI music and blogger will delete the post because they are not

"In touch with the ground"
-Duran Duran

A Bird Dog In The Hand Is As Good As Two On The Blog

"His jokin’ ain’t so funny [what a dog] "
-Don & Phil Everly



"Do you have $300 worth of ass I can woop?"
-R.D Mercer