<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8159143296217900402</id><updated>2011-04-21T20:24:35.017-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wikipeteria</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wikipeteria.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8159143296217900402/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wikipeteria.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06202481559768857456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8159143296217900402.post-3794125631845500711</id><published>2009-02-03T22:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T09:13:09.543-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Making Elbow Room</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SYlBgFvLPgI/AAAAAAAAAMc/yzkTBJ2O9oY/s1600-h/The_Seldom_Seen_Kid.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 198px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SYlBgFvLPgI/AAAAAAAAAMc/yzkTBJ2O9oY/s200/The_Seldom_Seen_Kid.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298838456129764866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Elbow - The Seldom Seen Kid (2008)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SYlBOVr0sfI/AAAAAAAAAMU/bCV23Llaxs8/s1600-h/4.0.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 74px; height: 16px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SYlBOVr0sfI/AAAAAAAAAMU/bCV23Llaxs8/s320/4.0.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298838151173026290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's lamentable that I discovered &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Seldom Seen Kid&lt;/span&gt; so late in the year, as it certainly belongs on my top 10 list.  Elbow, a soft spoken English septet, released this as their fourth album in March of 2008, and garnered plenty of praise for their work.  The record won the prestigious Mercury Prize, a British award delivered to the "best album of the year."  This classification results from the deliberations of the country's top executive record producers.  While this sounds like a variation of the Grammy's, I can promise that the prize winner is rarely as crappy as its American cousins.  The lavish attention for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Seldom Seen Kid&lt;/span&gt; is well deserved, as it proves to be a fantastic distraction from the majority of the mess popular music has evolved into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Seldom Seen Kid&lt;/span&gt;'s sound embodies lushness.  Elbow finds themselves somewhere between Coldplay and Radiohead, their popular countrymen, utilizing a soft and progressive sound with moody undertones.  The record's beginning is peculiar, as it nearly alienates the listener.  It opens on simple and smooth music, and then suddenly explodes into huge and out of place chord of perverse noise.  This induces aversion.  The phrase repeats, and the jarring noise offends a second time.  The phrase lines up for its third iteration, and anyone listening braces themselves for the awful punishment to follow.  But it never comes.  Instead, astonishment results, and the ears are saturated in Guy Garvey's rich voice.  I make no understatement, when I proclaim that Garvey's voice is absolutely beautiful.  Were Elbow to ever break up, I would demand a long and successful solo career, as his voice is one to go the distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are no roman numerals to be found in &lt;em&gt;The Seldom Seen Kid&lt;/em&gt;'s song titles, nor is there particularly dexterous playing to be heard from track to track, but that's not to discount the disc's mildly proggy vibe. The ebb and flow of the disc feels like it's advancing some unknowable plot, always the sign of a well sequenced disc but also the bridge between songs like the lovely "Mirrorball" and the bluesy (in the get-the-Led-out sense) "Grounds for Divorce". There, the song's lyrical and musical reputation are in keeping with the band's exploration of the static as well as blues traditions. It's a tragic drinking song where the protagonist loses himself in "a hole in my neighborhood down which of late I cannot help but fall." Less fancy-pants lyricists would have just said "bar," but Garvey knows the value of a poetic line or two. In typically ornate Garvey fashion, he's called "An Audience with the Pope" "a Bond theme if Bond was from Bury and a recovering Catholic," but he could have just described it as Tom Waits doing 007.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The album is a long one, but tracks flow together seamlessly. Its contents never grow dull, again largely due to Garvey's lyrics.  His wordplay proves extremely amusing and represents fine stand-alone work.  But his work is not alone, as it shares the company of beautiful music.  What more can you ask for?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8159143296217900402-3794125631845500711?l=wikipeteria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wikipeteria.blogspot.com/feeds/3794125631845500711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8159143296217900402&amp;postID=3794125631845500711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8159143296217900402/posts/default/3794125631845500711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8159143296217900402/posts/default/3794125631845500711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wikipeteria.blogspot.com/2009/02/making-elbow-room.html' title='Making Elbow Room'/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06202481559768857456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SYlBgFvLPgI/AAAAAAAAAMc/yzkTBJ2O9oY/s72-c/The_Seldom_Seen_Kid.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8159143296217900402.post-5011859636200316602</id><published>2008-12-27T15:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T18:34:54.712-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The 10 Best Albums of 2008</title><content type='html'>Sorry these posts have been so few and far between.  I barely have time to write for pleasure anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2008 is essentially over.  Nothing else will come out in the next few days, and so I feel its safe to put this list together.  This was a big year for music; there were a lot of albums I really enjoy that do not make the top 10.  I never predicted that so many memorable discs would be released this year, and so organizing the list proved more difficult than anticipated.  So here they are, the 10 best albums of the year 2008.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SVfxLVPr3eI/AAAAAAAAAKk/1nsy3NJphrM/s1600-h/Killers_day_age.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SVfxLVPr3eI/AAAAAAAAAKk/1nsy3NJphrM/s320/Killers_day_age.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284957864726355426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Day and Ag&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;he Killers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Few enjoyed the Killers last foray, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sam's Town&lt;/span&gt;, finding it to be a trite Bruce Springsteen sound-alike.  I felt critics were a little too harsh in their opinion.  Sure it wasn't spectacular, but I still found it enjoyable.  Nonetheless, the Killers had hurt their reputation, and needed to release an album that would revitalize their canon.  Boy, did they ever.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Day and Age&lt;/span&gt; is a smashing alternative rock album that is a pleasure to listen to from start to finish.  While the songs aren't complicated or ground breaking, the whole album blends together beautifully. Brandon Flowers voice seems to be getting better and better.  On their first album, I felt like he was doing more yelling than singing, and this changed.  Mr. Flowers now seems to be able to carry a tune, and presents himself as a vocalist who doesn't always need a big band backing him.  My one criticism of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Day and A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ge&lt;/span&gt; is in its concept.  It feels the album has more style than substance.  Its like a blockbuster action film.  If you look past the explosions, tits, and gunfire, there really is not much to look at.  But, no one watches action films to be wowed by narrative, and the same goes for this album.  We weren't expecting the thinking man's LP, just something pleasant to the ears.  We got that and more from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Day and Age&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SVfxZ6xxesI/AAAAAAAAAKs/WYFx1AQmQ8c/s1600-h/Visiter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 280px; height: 280px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SVfxZ6xxesI/AAAAAAAAAKs/WYFx1AQmQ8c/s320/Visiter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284958115319610050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;9. The Dod&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;os - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Vister&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually hadn't heard about these guys until a few weeks ago.  Their first LP, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Visiter&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;is an experimental folk album that thrills the senses.  My first play through of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Visiter&lt;/span&gt; was distracting, as I spend a good portion of the album trying to figure out what the fuck was going on.  My second run was much smoother.  The schizophrenic percussion started to make sense, and the lyrics were no longer nonsense.  The album is long, and through its entirety,&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;someone is banging on something with something else, ambiguous and difficult to identify.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The style is erratic, but really defines the character of the disc.  It is masterful if anything.  The singer really can belt it, and his lyrics are clever throughout.  There is just something so satisfying when the vocalist in a band named after the dodo bird sings, "I'm retarded."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Oasis - Dig Out Your Soul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SVfxnly0ilI/AAAAAAAAAK0/npVRzgo1UE4/s1600-h/Dig_out_your_soul.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SVfxnly0ilI/AAAAAAAAAK0/npVRzgo1UE4/s320/Dig_out_your_soul.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284958350205028946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys from Manchester are back.  Famous for being plagued by internal turmoil, it really is fantastic to see Oasis move beyond their quarrels and turn out such a gem of a record.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dig Out Your Soul&lt;/span&gt; returns the band to their rocking roots, featuring vocal heavy tracks backed by loud guitars and effective drum work.  The album, while relentless in its onslaught, is enduring, and never seems to wear thin.  Oasis' sound is mature but restless, and shows that the band is ready to move on.  In between the growl of the guitars, or the snarl of Liam Gallagher's vocals, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dig Out Your Soul&lt;/span&gt; simply put, rocks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SVfxyNquPcI/AAAAAAAAAK8/-ft2u4HCqZ4/s1600-h/WolfParadeAtMountZoomer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SVfxyNquPcI/AAAAAAAAAK8/-ft2u4HCqZ4/s320/WolfParadeAtMountZoomer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284958532707171778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7. Wolf Para&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;de - At &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mount Zoomer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wolf Parade hail from Canada, and bring with them a psychedelic plodding style similar to their close friends, The Arcade Fire.  After a successful debut, the band managed to overcome the dreaded "sophomore slump" and release a stellar second album.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;At Mount Zoomer&lt;/span&gt; is a carefully written album, one defined by forethought and patience.  Everything is carefully arranged, and has a specific purpose.  The song writing is top notch, and each arrangement is distinct and beautiful.  The best track is the last one&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"Kissing the Beehive", an eleven minute trippy epic, that builds and builds, delivering the album to a breathtakingly satisfying climax.  I'm really excited to see where these guys go, as their seems to be plenty of gas in the tank for a long and satisfying career.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SVfyBMlo17I/AAAAAAAAALE/m6N5O0mmXmc/s1600-h/mars+volta.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SVfyBMlo17I/AAAAAAAAALE/m6N5O0mmXmc/s320/mars+volta.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284958790115448754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;6. The Mars Vol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ta - The Bedlam In Goliath&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The fact that this album made the list will probably piss a bunch of people off, and to a certain degree I can't blame them.  The Mars Volta are a bunch of narcissistic douche bags, famous for throwing cacophonous and dangerous concerts. Still, this album is a breath taking achievement, in its musical complexity and ear shattering force.  The album begins with a thunderclap, and never lets up until the final fleeting bars of the last song.  "Sonic Terrorism" might be a good term for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Bedlam In Goliath&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;as the listener is taken hostage in the fury, and given no release until the end.  The musicianship on the album is astounding, especially that provided by their new drummer, Thomas Pridgeon.  Thomas entered Berkeley School of Music as the tender young age of 16 on a full scholarship, and quickly earned a reputation as one of the best up and coming drummers.  This album is his debut, and he immediately proves that he is a force to be reckoned with.  He keeps time like a Jazz drummer, but will often explode into a barrage that moves so quickly its nearly impossible to keep up with.  Whether you like it or not, you have to admit the Mars Volta are one of the most instrumentally talented bands in the business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SVfyPOeoRqI/AAAAAAAAALM/ojOZK-E4esc/s1600-h/Swordcover.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 318px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SVfyPOeoRqI/AAAAAAAAALM/ojOZK-E4esc/s320/Swordcover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284959031141090978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. The Sword - Gods of the Ea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;rth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;More than any other album on this list, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Gods of the Earth&lt;/span&gt; fucking rocks.  The Sword understand how to write an awesome riff better than any modern band I can think of.   Their songs are locked in my short term memory as soon as I finish listening to them, which often leads to me listening to the same song all over again.  I just can't stop myself.  This is the best Metal album of the year in my opinion, and the band do the genre a huge favor.  Metal is dragged down by its own people, possessing more shitty bands than any other genre out there.  This is really sad because the good Metal bands are a real treat, and The Sword are an example of how things can go so well.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Gods of the Earth&lt;/span&gt; is a relentless thrash fest, showing off its ferocious cymbal/drum work and chugging riffage to propel the listener to stand up move around.  It is impossible to listen to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;God of the Earth&lt;/span&gt; while standing still or sitting.  To truly enjoy the album, I find myself running, driving, etc, and I bet its even better if you listen to it during a bar fight or something.  The best is saved for last, as the band reproduces one of the tracks acoustically.  It still rocks just as hard, and that should show how powerful these songs really are.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I mean you could play them with a pair of bongos and a fucking lute and people would still feel compelled to headbang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SVfycdeQ_jI/AAAAAAAAALU/xiM_aexkfaU/s1600-h/Drdog_fate_splash.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 289px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SVfycdeQ_jI/AAAAAAAAALU/xiM_aexkfaU/s320/Drdog_fate_splash.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284959258504396338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Dr. Dog - Fate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Dr. Dog are all about what has already happened, stranded in the past with no way back.  But this is why they're so much fun to listen to, as they reinvent the sound of an age where mainstream music was actually good.  Dr. Dog sound like The Band, The Beatles, and The Beach Boys were all thrown into a huge blender.  The end result is a delicious multi-faceted smoothie that always hits the spot.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Fate &lt;/span&gt;is a strong disc, one that relies on double edged vocals, smart lyrics, and a classic sound.  The production ideas are clever, the vocals are ragged-but-right, and the horns are silky smooth.  Everything here seems to just work.  I'm excited to see what Dr. Dog has in store next, and I really hope that they move out beyond the past and start trying to live in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SVfysxsJSgI/AAAAAAAAALc/0g844IffGZo/s1600-h/Dear_science_album_cover.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SVfysxsJSgI/AAAAAAAAALc/0g844IffGZo/s320/Dear_science_album_cover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284959538809227778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3. TV on the Radio - Dear Science,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;This disc was probably the most surprising release of the year.  I've never been a huge fan of the band, but I enjoyed their last few endeavors.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I noticed their new release on the shelf, and with nothing grabbing my eye figured "Fuck it, what else am I gonna buy."  I listened to the whole album start to finish, and found myself wanting to immediately reexamine the bands catalogue.  Its art rock with a human face, one with density and texture that hides an optimistic core.  The whole disc is shit-hot thrilling music, while at the same time manages to be multi-textural and ambivalent.  The entire album's purpose is laid bare in its lyrics.  Adebimpe's voice doesn't speak of audacious hope or depressing despair, it rings of confusion.  They're the house band for a country that has no idea where its headed.  On "Golden Age" they sing of "utopia," but have nothing to back them up evidence wise except their own music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SVfy3qoKUNI/AAAAAAAAALk/MrUHf-wwLLM/s1600-h/Fleet_foxes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 280px; height: 280px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SVfy3qoKUNI/AAAAAAAAALk/MrUHf-wwLLM/s320/Fleet_foxes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284959725892030674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2. Fleet Foxes&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; (Self Titled)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fleet Foxes have a firm grasp of Rock and Roll history, but they never play their record collection.  Rather than revive a particular style or re-invent a lost sound, the Seattle quintet cherrypick their ideas from a broad spectrum of styles that include folk, country, classic rock, and SoCal pop.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Vocals play such a primary role in Fleet Foxes' music that     Pecknold's lyrics at times sound like merely a delivery system for harmonies,     with references to meadowlarks, rising suns, and streams     bolstering the rural and placeless evocations. However, these are ultimately     carefully and well-crafted compositions. On "White Winter Hymnal", a firelit roundelay that best showcases the band's vocal interplay.  The album is strengthened in its production, as their sound is very open, and seems to echo around the room.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Fleet Foxes&lt;/span&gt; is a great album, and in its last few bars, it seems to linger as if the band doesn't want it to end any more than the listener does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SVfzG6CKZMI/AAAAAAAAALs/Lde0QcCmmAg/s1600-h/METRONOMYNIGHTSOUT.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 189px; height: 189px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SVfzG6CKZMI/AAAAAAAAALs/Lde0QcCmmAg/s320/METRONOMYNIGHTSOUT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284959987725657282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. Metronomy - Nights Out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This album will be on no one's list, and that's a bloody shame.  Metronomy, the production name for Joseph Mount (who apparently was named the nicest guy in pop by NME), is a genius electronica project firmly steeped in realism as its concept.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Mount, who is a heavy metal drummer by trade, dreams up songs that are just too damn catchy to not be heard.  You want these things to be stuck in your head; they never seem to wear out their welcome.  Mount's use of real instrumentation combined with synthesized beats is magnificent, and his arrangements are addictive.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nights Out&lt;/span&gt;, a concept album in nature, is one that shows Mount is brimming with potential beyond what any of his peers suspect, clearly possessing the artistic knack and technical grasp to bring his marvelous ideas to fruition.  What started out sounding like a simple little home-grown electro record has uncoiled itself over a number of listens into a multi-layered party playlist that gurgles out anthems without pause. “It’s a soundtrack to a bad weekend,” Mount has claimed, as deceptively humble as the music he makes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Forgive the crappy picture, it sucks that the best album of the year didn't have any good images online.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well there you have it.  I'm pretty happy that not one buy TWO Metal bands made the list.  I look forward to reading everyone else's opinions and I wish you all a happy new year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8159143296217900402-5011859636200316602?l=wikipeteria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wikipeteria.blogspot.com/feeds/5011859636200316602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8159143296217900402&amp;postID=5011859636200316602' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8159143296217900402/posts/default/5011859636200316602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8159143296217900402/posts/default/5011859636200316602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wikipeteria.blogspot.com/2008/12/10-best-albums-of-2008.html' title='The 10 Best Albums of 2008'/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06202481559768857456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SVfxLVPr3eI/AAAAAAAAAKk/1nsy3NJphrM/s72-c/Killers_day_age.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8159143296217900402.post-3378368368890974555</id><published>2008-10-27T09:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T07:37:17.065-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Top Ten Most Unique Male Voices in Rock and Roll</title><content type='html'>Everyone appreciates a good vocalist.  When I go to a show, the band can be as good as they want, I'm not going to put up with their annoying, shitty vocalist.  But I do not measure the pedigree of a singer in pure singing ability, I judge them on what how they factor into the final product, how they define the music's sound.  That said, a lot of vocalist I consider to be fantastic, are considered by certain populations to be terrible singers.  But without each of their peculiar voices, their music would not hold the unique appeal each offers.  This is a list of who I consider to have the top ten unique voices in Rock and Roll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQY0JVteAzI/AAAAAAAAAJE/gpqLZdyO8H0/s1600-h/IsaacBrock-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQY0JVteAzI/AAAAAAAAAJE/gpqLZdyO8H0/s200/IsaacBrock-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261950549680325426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10. Issac Brock - Mode&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;st Mouse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Mr. Brock is the definitive "Redneck Poet".  His singing tends to teeter on hollering, and he's content to yell his message rather than sing it.  His lyrics have always been clever, thoughtful, and simple.  His intelligence personified by his apparent drunkenness, if that makes sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQY0Q0TZ36I/AAAAAAAAAJM/ZbtilBQ-a8M/s1600-h/frank-zappa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 196px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQY0Q0TZ36I/AAAAAAAAAJM/ZbtilBQ-a8M/s200/frank-zappa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261950678151585698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;9. &lt;/span&gt;Fran&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;k Zappa&lt;/span&gt; - &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;he Mothers of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Invention / Solo Artist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not enough people realize Frank's importance in the realm of music.  Zappa was an unabashedly creative individual, who pushed every boundary he found, musical or political.  Yet, the area where Frank proves to be most overlooked is in his vocals.  While he played a multitude of instruments, and had mastered the guitar, Frank was also a classically trained singer.  His voice, while deep and nasally, proved to have a huge range.  Furthermore, Frank was hilarious.  Read some of his lyrics, and you'll understand why he was a &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ISil7IHzxc"&gt;huge anti-censorship advocate&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQY0dLVBGJI/AAAAAAAAAJU/rOSceTRvBMw/s1600-h/caleb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 172px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQY0dLVBGJI/AAAAAAAAAJU/rOSceTRvBMw/s200/caleb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261950890490796178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;8. Cale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;b &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Fo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;llowill&lt;/span&gt; - The Kings of Leon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I'd be a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Kings of Leon&lt;/span&gt; fan if Caleb wasn't singing.  His vocal prowess, is defined by his muddled, southern drawl.  On the band's first album, his voice is entirely unintelligible, and for some reason I found that to be absolutely fascinating.  He might as well have never written any lyrics.  But write he did, and his atypical themes of teenage &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;horniness&lt;/span&gt; were pervaded by his  beautiful mumbling.  On their latest album, I can understand most of what he says.  But that might just be me becoming accustomed to his broken jaw style of singing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQY0kV1tprI/AAAAAAAAAJc/Eyqb8cDcjIs/s1600-h/thom_yorke.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 188px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQY0kV1tprI/AAAAAAAAAJc/Eyqb8cDcjIs/s200/thom_yorke.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261951013571372722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7. Thom Yorke - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Radiohead&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thom Yorke is an essential part of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Radiohead's&lt;/span&gt; enormous success.  His shaky falsetto provides the perfect avenue for the band's emotional, schizophrenic sound.  His distinctive tenor is marked by a strong vibrato, as well as a powerful ability to sustain high notes.  He's openly critical of his voice, going as far as to describe it as "acidic".  But his lyrical and vocal contributions to his band's product are unquantifiable, and prove his individuality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQY0uOsnDHI/AAAAAAAAAJk/7Wrz3-OA_YM/s1600-h/acdc-bon-scott.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 193px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQY0uOsnDHI/AAAAAAAAAJk/7Wrz3-OA_YM/s200/acdc-bon-scott.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261951183452834930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;6. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Bon&lt;/span&gt; Scott - AC/DC&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Everyone can recognize &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Bon&lt;/span&gt; Scott's loud, Scottish growl.  His voice fulfilled more than simply a musical role, it also seemed to represent an atmosphere for which Angus Young to pound out the only three chords he knew.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;AC/DC&lt;/span&gt; is criticized by many, myself included, for being overly repetitive.  Yet, I find myself listening to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;AC/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;DC&lt;/span&gt;, for great lengths to only enjoy the swanky feel of Scott's voice.  It seems to embody excess, as if no matter what he's saying, he means that "I'm having a great fucking time."  When Scott died, a lot of people felt &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;AC/DC &lt;/span&gt;lost their edge, and even though Brian Johnson was a good replacement for the Scotsman, things never really felt right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQY05Fom1WI/AAAAAAAAAJs/2pwvI1fblng/s1600-h/Robert_Plant02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 140px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQY05Fom1WI/AAAAAAAAAJs/2pwvI1fblng/s200/Robert_Plant02.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261951369998685538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5. Robert Plant&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; - Led Zeppelin/Solo Artist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend of mine used to speculate how Plant figured out he could sing.  He suggested that maybe Plant's father was beating him, and as young Robert screamed, he realized he sounded damn good.  Plant screams, moans, and shrieks across every Led Zeppelin album, and provides the entire basis for the band's sex-riddled sound.  Led Zeppelin is going on tour soon, without Robert, and to me that removes the entire temptation to spend hundreds of dollars on tickets.  I've even heard that the singer they're touring with is the guy from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ORS0SLk78rE"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Alterbridge&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.  &lt;/span&gt;Fuck that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQY1EoSYeXI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/QBlkyKqPuBY/s1600-h/nick+cave.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 158px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQY1EoSYeXI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/QBlkyKqPuBY/s200/nick+cave.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261951568279271794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4. Nick Cave - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds/Solo Artist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;This might be the first time some of you have heard of Nick.  Nick Cave hails from Australia, and is the bad-boy front man for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Bad Seeds&lt;/span&gt;.  He lacks any real singing talent, as he struggles to keep his footing on one pitch, and often allows his voice to slip and crack.  And I love him.  No other singer so effectively transfers emotional message from their lyrics to the music.  Nick can move a man to tears, and possesses a individual talent in sounding genuinely sad.  His reputation as a poet is well established.  My favorite Nick Cave recording is actually a lecture he gave on the philosophy of the love song.  A must listen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQY1QDJWyvI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/OlkYPfBhGPM/s1600-h/mercury1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 142px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQY1QDJWyvI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/OlkYPfBhGPM/s200/mercury1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261951764467731186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3. Fred&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;die Mercury (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Farrokh&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Bulsara&lt;/span&gt;) - Queen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;There really hasn't been another singer quite like Freddie Mercury.  A classically trained vocalist, Freddie possessed a vocal of range of 4 1/2 octaves, and was considered by many to have perfect pitch.  The most notable part of Mercury's voice was it's crystal clear sound in the upper reaches of his music.  Every high note was marked by staggering clarity, and made him the envy of every singer in Rock and Roll. Queen hasn't been the same since Mercury's death, and they continue to limp along without him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQY1c-YCT7I/AAAAAAAAAKE/QxFa41efJnY/s1600-h/tomwaits1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 161px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQY1c-YCT7I/AAAAAAAAAKE/QxFa41efJnY/s200/tomwaits1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261951986525425586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2. Tom &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Wai&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;s - Solo Artist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Tom fights Frank for the title of "strangest musician", at least on this list.  When Tom Waits started out, he had a fairly normal voice.  It was deep and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;growly&lt;/span&gt;, but it wasn't something you'd pick out of a crowd.  That changed.  Tom's voice now sounds like it was soaked in a vat of bourbon, left hanging in the smokehouse for a few months, and then taken outside and run over with a car.  I mean that in a good way.  Tom's unique poetry is defined purely by his gravel road of a voice.  Sometimes he sounds like a barking monster, sometimes like a ghostly spectre that barely has a voice, and sometimes like a man who has smoked enough cigarettes to open a hole in the ozone layer.  Yet, he always maintains pitch, and is by far the coolest singer/songwriter in the business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQY1qdzQXiI/AAAAAAAAAKM/XhIzbuIXQ8Y/s1600-h/Bob-Dylan-Poster-C10086117.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 144px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQY1qdzQXiI/AAAAAAAAAKM/XhIzbuIXQ8Y/s200/Bob-Dylan-Poster-C10086117.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261952218299391522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. Bob &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Dyl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;n&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Solo Artist&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I find it really hard to listen to Bob Dylan covers, because they don't have Bob Dylan.  Every single one of them seems to lack the expression and sincerity Dylan displayed in his work, and none of them seems to catch the theme of the original.  Dylan, again, was one of those artists that lacked a "good" singing voice, and instead owned a sound that cast him as the voice of a generation, the voice of change.  The themes Dylan expressed in his lyrics ranged from social matters, to the issues of love.  His voice was a masterpiece of expression, a rambling zenith for against which many songwriters are compared.  Dylan's appeal moves beyond simply his music, his depth as a lyricist cements his role as one of this century's greatest poets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Honorable Mentions:&lt;/span&gt; Jeff Buckley, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Geddy&lt;/span&gt; Lee, Neil Young, and Weird Al &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Yankovic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;So there you have it, my top ten list. I'm sure many will find this list debatable, but I feel that those not mentioned just didn't cut it.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQY2G83PXxI/AAAAAAAAAKc/OI4WRoqYWT8/s1600-h/scott_stapp-gal-worstsingers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 171px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQY2G83PXxI/AAAAAAAAAKc/OI4WRoqYWT8/s200/scott_stapp-gal-worstsingers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261952707673939730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8159143296217900402-3378368368890974555?l=wikipeteria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wikipeteria.blogspot.com/feeds/3378368368890974555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8159143296217900402&amp;postID=3378368368890974555' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8159143296217900402/posts/default/3378368368890974555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8159143296217900402/posts/default/3378368368890974555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wikipeteria.blogspot.com/2008/10/top-ten-most-unique-voices-in-rock-and.html' title='The Top Ten Most Unique Male Voices in Rock and Roll'/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06202481559768857456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQY0JVteAzI/AAAAAAAAAJE/gpqLZdyO8H0/s72-c/IsaacBrock-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8159143296217900402.post-3324572079765458603</id><published>2008-10-24T13:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T23:12:22.331-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Album Review</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQK4O_0QkUI/AAAAAAAAAI0/hzehteDWlx0/s1600-h/stand_up.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 198px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQK4O_0QkUI/AAAAAAAAAI0/hzehteDWlx0/s200/stand_up.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260969882510463298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jethro Tull - Stand Up (1969)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQK4VIsfvFI/AAAAAAAAAI8/ER0dmGyxwDg/s1600-h/4.5.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 74px; height: 16px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQK4VIsfvFI/AAAAAAAAAI8/ER0dmGyxwDg/s200/4.5.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260969987973037138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It really distresses me how so many classic rock fans don't have a fucking clue what I'm talking about when I bring up Jethro Tull.  The band, in a way, has suffered from the low expectations the world holds for them, as well as accidentally winning the first Hard-Rock Grammy, something that earned them quite a bit of contempt.  I mean, how much can a rock band with a lead singer who plays the flute really rock?  The answer is that they rock a lot fucking harder than many bands who lack said flute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jethro Tull provides heavy riffs, deep lyrics, and tight rhythms throughout their catalog.  But the quintessential element of the entire production, the vital component of Jethro Tull's machine, is that flute.  Ian Anderson is regarded by many to be one of the best flautists &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ever&lt;/span&gt;, and is well respected in both classical and modern musical circles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Stand Up&lt;/span&gt; is Tull's second album, and one of my favorites.  Tull was still fairly unknown on it's release, and did not really earn a wider listening audience until &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Aqualung&lt;/span&gt;.  As such, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Stand Up&lt;/span&gt; really has a small, jam bandish feel.  This is the first Tull album with their new permanent guitarist, Martin Barre, and he proves himself worthy of a lengthy tenure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tull demonstrates their mastery of the Blues, primarily illustrated in Anderson's ability on the flute.  All of his solos on this album rock, there really is not another word for them.  The most poignant example is on track 3, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Bouree&lt;/span&gt;, which is the album's only instrumental track.  What starts as a simple Jazz riff, explodes into terrific 3 minute solo from Anderson, as he treats the ears to a multitude of sounds one rarely encounters in rock and roll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize I didn't really talk much about &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Stand Up&lt;/span&gt;, but more about Jethro Tull themselves.  I still would recommend &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Stand Up&lt;/span&gt; as their most approachable album for anyone unfamiliar with Jethro Tull, and hope one day people will mention them in the same respect as other gigantic classic rock outfits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Favorite Tracks:&lt;/span&gt; "Bouree", "Look Into the Sun", "Living In the Past"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8159143296217900402-3324572079765458603?l=wikipeteria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wikipeteria.blogspot.com/feeds/3324572079765458603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8159143296217900402&amp;postID=3324572079765458603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8159143296217900402/posts/default/3324572079765458603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8159143296217900402/posts/default/3324572079765458603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wikipeteria.blogspot.com/2008/10/random-album-review.html' title='Random Album Review'/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06202481559768857456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SQK4O_0QkUI/AAAAAAAAAI0/hzehteDWlx0/s72-c/stand_up.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8159143296217900402.post-387722192236923361</id><published>2008-10-16T19:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T20:17:49.122-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nick and Norah's Infinite Shit List</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SPf44deAwnI/AAAAAAAAAIk/kNy-U34eW2w/s1600-h/NickAndNorahsInfinite.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SPf44deAwnI/AAAAAAAAAIk/kNy-U34eW2w/s200/NickAndNorahsInfinite.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257944738845213298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; - 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SPf7swMAJLI/AAAAAAAAAIs/kcmr-Jnk85w/s1600-h/2.0.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SPf7swMAJLI/AAAAAAAAAIs/kcmr-Jnk85w/s200/2.0.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257947836246402226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every so often a movie comes along that has so much sentiment, and is so filled with genuinely good storytelling that you can't help but love it.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist&lt;/span&gt; is not one of these movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nick and Norah&lt;/span&gt; is the story of two teenage hipsters who are brought together by random circumstances, resulting in an adventure filled night ending in, you guessed it, true love.  First hearing the premise, my immediate impulse was to throw up.  I held it down for one reason; I like Michael Cera.  He's proven himself to be a fine character actor, specializing in different flavors of "awkward teenager".  He was cast as just such a person in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nick and Norah&lt;/span&gt;, so I held out hope that maybe I'd enjoy this film as much as his others. My hope cost me $10.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to avoid retelling the plot of the film, just because I don't find it interesting enough to waste the effort.  Instead I'll try and explain my criticisms, or suggestions for what would have made this a better movie.  That was the worst part of the film; deep down I saw potential.  An example is Nick's band.  Nick is the straight bass player for an otherwise all gay punk band.  I found this to be a funny concept, and waited to see what the film makers did with it.  They did nothing.  An all gay band is a fantastically awkward concept, and presents a multitude of opportunities for exploitation.  What are the consequences for being the only heterosexual person in an Queer-Core band?  Isn't there a lot of sexual tension?  Who is their fan base?  None of these questions are ever answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nick and Norah's&lt;/span&gt; biggest issue is balancing.  The movie never feels quite right, and can't seem to decide what it wants to be.  The movie plays like a comedy one minute, and then flips around to present itself as a romantic drama, doing neither genre well.  It instead remains apathetic, barely choosing a middle point.  If it had chosen one or the other from the beginning, the entire picture would have had much more cohesion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just thought I'd mention, for Kevin's sake, that the movie's sexual scenes really detract from the film.  Part of this is again, an issue of balancing.  The movie's sexual portions range from timid to ridiculous.  One minute girls are joke about how boys are icky, and the next they're bragging about their friends with benefits and how many orgasm's they've had.  In one of the final scenes, Nick and Norah get it on in a recording studio, and record her orgasm.  It was wholly unnecessary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't see &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nick and Norah&lt;/span&gt;.  It's cons far outweigh it's pros, and leaves an audience member wanting something more.  Just wait for &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1045778/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Year One&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; to get your Michael Cera fix.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also thought I'd mention that every Friday, I'm planning to review a random album.  I'll hit random on my iTunes collection, and review the first album it selects, of course omitting music soundtracks, albums other people have recently reviewed, and greatest hits type stuff.  Otherwise, I'm at the complete mercy of the random button.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8159143296217900402-387722192236923361?l=wikipeteria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wikipeteria.blogspot.com/feeds/387722192236923361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8159143296217900402&amp;postID=387722192236923361' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8159143296217900402/posts/default/387722192236923361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8159143296217900402/posts/default/387722192236923361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wikipeteria.blogspot.com/2008/10/nick-and-norahs-infinite-shit-list.html' title='Nick and Norah&apos;s Infinite Shit List'/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06202481559768857456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SPf44deAwnI/AAAAAAAAAIk/kNy-U34eW2w/s72-c/NickAndNorahsInfinite.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8159143296217900402.post-7698182640950618179</id><published>2008-10-13T09:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T10:38:01.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Hello, my name-a Bill Maher!"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SPN6kS6MJOI/AAAAAAAAAIU/qT-Vsu5v-uo/s1600-h/religulous.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SPN6kS6MJOI/AAAAAAAAAIU/qT-Vsu5v-uo/s200/religulous.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256679954041283810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Religulous&lt;/span&gt; (2008)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SPOGmVlRVaI/AAAAAAAAAIc/bmp4bkOJ1f0/s1600-h/3.5.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SPOGmVlRVaI/AAAAAAAAAIc/bmp4bkOJ1f0/s200/3.5.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256693183258121634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me start off by making something clear; as the years have gone by, I've come to like Bill &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Maher&lt;/span&gt; less and less.  While I admit that he's an extremely intelligent person, and makes many fine points, he comes off as overly hostile and confrontational.  That's why &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Religulous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; was such a pleasant surprise.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Maher&lt;/span&gt; seemed to leash himself to only asking questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Religulous&lt;/span&gt; was directed by Larry Charles, who helped bring us &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Borat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; back in 2006.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Religulous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; maintains &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Borat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;'s execution, while providing a new theme.  Bill &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Maher&lt;/span&gt; interviews a huge line of devoted religious members of the three big monotheistic faiths (Christianity, Judaism, and Islam).  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Maher&lt;/span&gt; attempts (that's a key word) to restrain his attack-dog style of interview, and uses his questions to pry out each &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;individual's&lt;/span&gt; conviction to their own faith.  The method bears a startling resemblance to Socratic Method, as the more question's Bill fires off, the more ridiculous the interviewee begins to sound.  This would always end in a vapid expression on the poor person's face while &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Maher&lt;/span&gt; would recount their points, highlighting any contradictions.  I found this to cheapen the over all premise of the movie because if an individual (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Maher&lt;/span&gt;) has enough experience in Socratic method, than they have the power to make almost anything sound preposterous.  Most of the religious discrepancy and contradiction &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Maher&lt;/span&gt; revealed seemed to be trifling scriptural detail.  I was hoping that at some point he'd take on values, morals, or doctrine.  He rarely did so.  This is not to say the exchanges presented in the film were not entertaining, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Maher&lt;/span&gt; knows how to dig out laughs and he includes plenty.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The film's strongest point is the level of ridiculousness &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Maher&lt;/span&gt; manages to squeeze into the the 101 minute &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;run time&lt;/span&gt;.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Maher&lt;/span&gt; interviews a church of Truckers, a professional Jesus &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;interpreter&lt;/span&gt;, the owner of the Creationism museum, a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;hasidic&lt;/span&gt; Jewish rabbi who does not believe in the state of Israel (also known as an anti-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Zionist&lt;/span&gt;), various evangelist preachers, Muslim religious leaders, and a guy who seriously believes he is the second coming of Jesus because just he has the same name.  Another interesting aspect &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Maher&lt;/span&gt; includes is his use of Scientology.  He never openly mocks Scientology on the assumption that most people already find it to be beyond bizarre.  He does, however, use it as a litmus test to compare it to other religions.  His point, why is volcano full of evil spectral aliens crazy while a virgin birth is not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One gaping flaw in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Religulous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; is it's lack of diversity in the religions it covers.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;Maher&lt;/span&gt; sticks to western, monotheistic religions.  He never tries to approach a single eastern religion.  This may be because eastern religions tend to have a much deeper basis in philosophy, and since &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Maher&lt;/span&gt; is shooting for laughs, he may have felt their was little to gain from such discussions.  Whatever the case, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;Maher&lt;/span&gt; would have done well to mention something about the eastern faiths.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Behind all of the comedic smoke and mirrors in his film, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;Maher&lt;/span&gt; attempts to clearly paint his message at the end of the documentary.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;Maher&lt;/span&gt; finds that religion can lead to some serious lapses in logic, and because most leaders are to a certain degree religious, entrusting our leadership in them is a dangerous practice.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;Maher&lt;/span&gt; labors to underline the dangers of Religious Politics, and to a certain degree his message is well founded.  He calls for the non religious to stand up, and start voicing their own opinions.  He points out that atheists are less likely to vote than the religious, and he concludes that to be the most ridiculous aspect of the religious issue.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8159143296217900402-7698182640950618179?l=wikipeteria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wikipeteria.blogspot.com/feeds/7698182640950618179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8159143296217900402&amp;postID=7698182640950618179' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8159143296217900402/posts/default/7698182640950618179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8159143296217900402/posts/default/7698182640950618179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wikipeteria.blogspot.com/2008/10/hello-my-name-bill-maher.html' title='&quot;Hello, my name-a Bill Maher!&quot;'/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06202481559768857456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SPN6kS6MJOI/AAAAAAAAAIU/qT-Vsu5v-uo/s72-c/religulous.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8159143296217900402.post-5436136353253419053</id><published>2008-10-10T17:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T18:02:24.027-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Knocked My Nights Out</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SO_y5cTKXQI/AAAAAAAAAIE/4TpT1BTo-uI/s1600-h/METRONOMYNIGHTSOUT.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SO_y5cTKXQI/AAAAAAAAAIE/4TpT1BTo-uI/s200/METRONOMYNIGHTSOUT.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255686358827687170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Metronomy - Nights Out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SO_zAglnJII/AAAAAAAAAIM/frafVptC66Y/s1600-h/5.0.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SO_zAglnJII/AAAAAAAAAIM/frafVptC66Y/s200/5.0.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255686480237896834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can say without a doubt, that Metronomy's latest offering, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nights Out&lt;/span&gt;, is the best thing I've heard all year.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This album has changed the way I think about song structure, instrumentation, and music altogether.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Metronomy's last album was available for download on iTunes.  However, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nights Out&lt;/span&gt; was, for some reason, only released in the UK, and has not been put up on any download service.  I enjoyed the last record so much, that I decided to put up the coin to import the disc.  This proved to be fantastic decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nights Out&lt;/span&gt;, according to Joeseph Mount, Metronomy's frontman (Mount has since recruited two friends, officially making Metronomy group) is "a half-arsed concept album about going out and having a crap time."  The album starts with &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nights Intro&lt;/span&gt;, a slow piece dripping with static that relies on chords and steady pace to set the mood.  The sound snowballs, and by the end of the two and a half minute track, the sound scape has evolved into a broad clash of noise that alludes to a march out into the unknown.  And so the night out begins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each track is radically different than the last.  Mount endeavors to switch up the different instruments, synthetic or not, between each song.  Furthermore, they all move into each other, never really giving the listener a chance to catch his breath.  In a sense, the CD seems to be club hopping, never becoming complacent with it's current location.  Keeping with the club theme, each song feels as if it secretly wants to be a dance number.  Never before has an album inspired me to feel the need to dance around in public.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also noticed how radically different &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nights Out&lt;/span&gt; was from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pip Paine&lt;/span&gt;.  On Metronomy's last album, Mount only sings on one track, and even then, his singing is altered by heavy distortion.  Seven of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nights Out&lt;/span&gt;'s twelve tracks have major vocal parts.  Whereas &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pip Paine&lt;/span&gt; was a well focused electronica album, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nights Out&lt;/span&gt; seems well focused in experimenting with the different sounds that make a person get up and move around.  Yet, it's difficult to categorize the album as a dance record.  It's as if Electronica went to a party, and individually slept with Jazz, Dance-Pop, and Modern Rock, to wind up pregnant 9 months later with no clue who the father is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This album has remained well lodged in my ears ever since I opened the package.  Combining it's perplexing, conceptual sound with an eager-to-please, get up and dance attitude, Metronomy's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nights Out&lt;/span&gt; may be about having a shitty time out on the town, but it certainly makes for a great night in listening.  I feel indebted to label &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nights Out&lt;/span&gt; the best entry in it's genre...whatever it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Favorite Tracks:&lt;/span&gt; "The End of You Too", "Radio Ladio", "My Heart Rate Rapid", "Holiday"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8159143296217900402-5436136353253419053?l=wikipeteria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wikipeteria.blogspot.com/feeds/5436136353253419053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8159143296217900402&amp;postID=5436136353253419053' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8159143296217900402/posts/default/5436136353253419053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8159143296217900402/posts/default/5436136353253419053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wikipeteria.blogspot.com/2008/10/knocked-my-nights-out.html' title='Knocked My Nights Out'/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06202481559768857456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SO_y5cTKXQI/AAAAAAAAAIE/4TpT1BTo-uI/s72-c/METRONOMYNIGHTSOUT.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8159143296217900402.post-5424698318960224713</id><published>2008-10-08T20:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T21:10:00.495-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Back...Again</title><content type='html'>So I'm sure me vowing to actually begin posting on a consistent basis sounds like a hollow promise, but I can now say that I feel a need to write something that isn't for school once in awhile.  I'll try to update this thing once a week, controlling of course for the amount of time school and work will allow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've reviewed a pair of albums hoping to get the ball rolling.  Forgive my blatant copying of the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cat Fancy &lt;/span&gt;Style.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SO6-iduL1DI/AAAAAAAAAHc/qN950x2xSqk/s1600-h/herberg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SO6-iduL1DI/AAAAAAAAAHc/qN950x2xSqk/s200/herberg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255347314491118642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mitch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;H&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;edberg&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Do You Believe in Gosh?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SO7DauO-t9I/AAAAAAAAAHk/o8rwWf2DSUQ/s1600-h/3.5.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SO7DauO-t9I/AAAAAAAAAHk/o8rwWf2DSUQ/s200/3.5.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255352679042824146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The comic community was leveled a stunning loss when Mitch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hedberg&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; died of a drug overdose in his hotel room.  Mitch was well known for his delirious and rambling style, marked by strange syllable emphasis, varying sentence flow, and probable inebriation.  His observational humor was the apparent work of psychedelic drugs, yet Mitch seemed to be able to delve one layer deeper, possessing an acute sense of perception even though he was tripping balls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though Mitch passed on in March of 2005, we were treated this year to his first post&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;humous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; release.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Do You B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;elieve&lt;/span&gt; In Gosh?&lt;/span&gt; is not a complete album.  Before his death, Mitch was refining material for a new CD, and this set has some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;notable&lt;/span&gt; flaws.  Mitch spends a good chunk of time testing jokes, some of which fail.  This is not to say the album is bad, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Hedberg&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; fans will be pleased to find the comedian in his best form, for the most part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something that really stands out on this album is Mitch's use of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;improv&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.  When a joke is successful, he really likes to feel it out, and see how much he can get away with.  Furthermore, this album is now my favorite example of a performer dealing with one of the comedian's greatest nightmares, the "Helpful Heckler".  The Helpful Heckler is different than the normal Heckler, the guy who yells things from the audience simply because he can.  This guy wants to be part of the show.  He for some reason believes that he has just as much to contribute as the person on stage, and so he'll essentially yell jokes that play off whatever the comedian just said.  These people are a disease to the performing the art; the audience should never make an attempt to steal the show.  Mitch deals with this guy perfectly, and turns it into an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;extremely&lt;/span&gt; successful bit that runs for about 5 minutes, all around some poor bastard named Phil who can't keep his mouth shut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The album is short, but if you enjoy off-the-wall observations, and an excellent inside glimpse of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;stoner's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; perspective, or if you already enjoy Mitch's body of work, than I strongly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;recommend&lt;/span&gt; giving &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Do You B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;elieve&lt;/span&gt; In Gosh?&lt;/span&gt; a listen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Favorite Tracks:&lt;/span&gt; "Hotels and Bed", "Phil", "The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Vacuumist&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SO7Tz4fDoDI/AAAAAAAAAH0/RldVn9P8uDw/s1600-h/metronomy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SO7Tz4fDoDI/AAAAAAAAAH0/RldVn9P8uDw/s200/metronomy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255370703477383218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Metronomy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; - &lt;/span&gt;Pi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;p Paine (Pay the £5000 You Owe)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SO7UMrToV0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/4gBiU3R9xR8/s1600-h/4.0.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SO7UMrToV0I/AAAAAAAAAH8/4gBiU3R9xR8/s200/4.0.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255371129436526402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;This album came out &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;way back in 2006, and I discovered them a little less than a year ago.  However, their new album just dropped, and I figured I should review their first one first to give it some context.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Metronomy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; is a one man show orchestrated&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;by Joesph Mount, an English rock and roll drummer turned producer.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Metronomy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;electronica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; project&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;and has proven to be his most successful.  Using an outdated computer he inherited from his father, Mount began to experiment with electronic music.  He began recording and remixing other bands, and eventually amassed enough original material for his first release.  The result is fantastic, and a major breakthrough for music, period.  I hate techno.  I find it trite, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;repetetive&lt;/span&gt;, uninspired, and really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;freakin&lt;/span&gt;' annoying.  Pip Paine is none of these things.  Mount experiments with real recorded instruments (remixed of course) layered over &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;synth&lt;/span&gt;, over-dubbing, and synthetically produced beats.  The result is an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;eclectic&lt;/span&gt; take on electronic music.  Mount manages to produce &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;impressively&lt;/span&gt; complex music, and develops riffs that stem from sounds of all types, even percussive noises he makes with his mouth (it isn't beat boxing, it's something...else).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One track stands out from all the rest, simply because it relies on actual instrumentation and not mixing.  Track seven, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Trick of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Treatz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; is the only track on which Mount actually sings, albeit heavily filtered and warped.  The track's instrumentation uses two basses, a drum machine, and Mount's vocals; nothing more.  The basses provide alternating syncopating &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;rhythms&lt;/span&gt;, that combine into something unlike anything I've ever heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a fantastic listen, and I highly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;recommend&lt;/span&gt; it to anyone that finds themselves even vaguely intrigued.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Metronomy&lt;/span&gt; has released zero albums in the U.S., so the only place to find this one is on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;iTunes&lt;/span&gt;.  Their second album, which I'll review tomorrow, wasn't even available online, so I had to import it from the UK.  More tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Favorite Tracks: &lt;/span&gt;"Black Eye/Burnt Thumb",  "Trick or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;Treatz&lt;/span&gt;", "New Toy"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8159143296217900402-5424698318960224713?l=wikipeteria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wikipeteria.blogspot.com/feeds/5424698318960224713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8159143296217900402&amp;postID=5424698318960224713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8159143296217900402/posts/default/5424698318960224713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8159143296217900402/posts/default/5424698318960224713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wikipeteria.blogspot.com/2008/10/im-backagain.html' title='I&apos;m Back...Again'/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06202481559768857456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SO6-iduL1DI/AAAAAAAAAHc/qN950x2xSqk/s72-c/herberg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8159143296217900402.post-20753695034798945</id><published>2008-06-26T11:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T23:20:12.435-08:00</updated><title type='text'>George Carlin, Born May 12th, 1937, Died June 22nd, 2008.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SGXpHL9GSMI/AAAAAAAAAE8/z1u3ehpVHtY/s1600-h/george.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SGXpHL9GSMI/AAAAAAAAAE8/z1u3ehpVHtY/s400/george.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216832053055998146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps the greatest comedian to grace the stage, 71 year old George Carlin passed away last Sunday.  Carlin was by far my favorite comedian, and news of his passing was much more saddening than I could have anticipated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I purchased my first George Carlin CD in the 8th grade when I was 14 years old.  It was titled "Back In Town", his 17th album, and hardly a way to get into George Carlin.  I had never heard a person sound so angry and vulgar trying to make people laugh.  These were things that usually turned me off from comedy.  But for some reason I loved it.  This man was much more than a comedian.  While his routines were filled with wit and humor, his material worked on a deeper level and gave him the means to plead with society, attempting to steer humanity away from its' destructive future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George was always an interesting character.  He was raised a Roman Catholic youth in a part of New York he called "White Harlem".  Rebellious from the get go, Carlin dropped out of school when he was in the 9th grade.  He jumped from job to job, and was eventually discharged from the air force for being "unproductive".  It wasn't until the 1960's that Carlin started becoming popular.  He was a heralded disc jockey, and soon was performing stand up acts, and finally made appearances on &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Ed Sullivan Show &lt;/span&gt;and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Tonight Show&lt;/span&gt;.  He began to popularize the characters he created in his acts, such as Al Sleet, the "Hippy-Dippy" weatherman, and eventually released his debut album, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Take Offs and Put Ons&lt;/span&gt; in 1967.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carlin did more than stand-up comedy.  He was the very first host on Saturday Night Live.  He even made his way to the silver screen, but his appearances in film are few and far between, and even still usually consisted of smaller parts in bad movies (Jersey Girl anyone?).  A few notable performances include Rufus, from Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, as well as the Fillmore, patriotic Humvee from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cars&lt;/span&gt;.  Perhaps his most surprising accomplishment was his stint on Shining Time Station with Thomas the Tank Engine.  I loved the show, and as a child became a George Carlin fan before I even knew who he was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was fortunate enough to see Carlin on his last tour, the Parade of Useless Bullshit, and now look back on that night as one of the greatest shows I've ever been too, and probably will ever go to.  His show was unorthodox and entertaining.  He performed in Benaroya Hall, which is also home to the Seattle Symphony.  Hardly the location for a stand-up comedian.  Also, rather than have a comedian open for him, he chose a musical opening act; an elderly gospel singer, who was able to fill the hall with his natural voice alone.  The entire show preceded this way.  He didn't perform sketches, or focused jokes.  He simply talked, said what was on his mind.  It was more a conversation than a performance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of his career, Carlin had released 23 albums, and had recorded 14 HBO specials.  Comedy Central ranked him as the 2nd best comedian of all time, and his persona has become a centerpiece of American culture.  On stage, Carlin took on the role of Noah, and constructed an Ark of sanity hoping to save humanity from drowning in its' own stupid.  He is irreplaceable, and leaves a gaping void in the world he left behind.  Here's looking at you George.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8159143296217900402-20753695034798945?l=wikipeteria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wikipeteria.blogspot.com/feeds/20753695034798945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8159143296217900402&amp;postID=20753695034798945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8159143296217900402/posts/default/20753695034798945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8159143296217900402/posts/default/20753695034798945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wikipeteria.blogspot.com/2008/06/george-carlin-born-may-12th-1937-died.html' title='George Carlin, Born May 12th, 1937, Died June 22nd, 2008.'/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06202481559768857456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0s6s2mfXM10/SGXpHL9GSMI/AAAAAAAAAE8/z1u3ehpVHtY/s72-c/george.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8159143296217900402.post-5771311288938163</id><published>2008-06-26T11:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T11:31:39.227-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So...</title><content type='html'>I needed my own blog.  The Panel Repairmen is fun and stuff, but I needed a place to post my own thoughts, opinions, and ideas.  Expect to see movie, music, and game reviews a la Cat Fancy, as well accounts of events I deem important.  More later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8159143296217900402-5771311288938163?l=wikipeteria.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wikipeteria.blogspot.com/feeds/5771311288938163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8159143296217900402&amp;postID=5771311288938163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8159143296217900402/posts/default/5771311288938163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8159143296217900402/posts/default/5771311288938163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wikipeteria.blogspot.com/2008/06/so.html' title='So...'/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06202481559768857456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
