Freak out.
Medeski, Martin & Wood with Marc Ribot
The Late Show Coasts To The Finish Line
This is late night check-in, a feature where I watch a full week of one talk show and discuss how it was. Last week I watched “Late Show with David Letterman”, from 5/11 to 5/15.
“People say to me – aren’t you gonna miss the applause and the laughter? Hell, I’m missing it right now.”
About two and a half minutes into his monologue on Wednesday, David Letterman tosses out this joke as if it’s an afterthought. The audience laughs, of course. Dave stands there and smiles. It’s a joke that doubles as a quietly sublime statement. At the risk of reading too much into it, I took it as both a sign that he will, indeed, miss doing his show. But even in the midst of his farewell shows – on stage, right now – the laughter doesn’t affect him the way it once did. The thrill is gone.
Which is a shame, because David Letterman is one of the best, and it’s sad to see him go. His legacy needs no fluffing, as evidenced by the many tributes and think pieces you’ll read this week concerning how he shattered the notion of what late night television could be. He was a visionary and a star to an entire generation of comedians, and without him the state of comedy would look very different.
It’s sometimes difficult to separate the “Late Night” years from the “Late Show” years (to clarify – he was the original host of Late Night on NBC before departing to CBS) because they represent two entirely different eras. The former was a showcase for comedy innovation – an anti-talk show that constantly challenged the viewer. Taken as a whole, his “Late Show” tenure saw a slight decrease in ambition. In his quest to beat Jay Leno in the 11:30 timeslot, some of the more batshit crazy elements that gave Late Night its charm were put out to pasture. But Dave was always there, always the aloof, quick-witted comedian he’s always been. And these days, you’d be hard pressed to find a machine as well oiled as the Late Show.
The point I’m trying laboriously to get to is that in his last full week of shows (his final three shows air this week, concluding on Wednesday), after a lifetime of hard work, Dave has earned the right to just kind of stand there and chuckle at the absurdity of it all. I perhaps picked a bad week to check-in on a show that’s on its way out, because it really did seem like the show was casually jogging to its big finale. At the top of Monday’s monologue, Dave does a few jokes on Tom Brady (every night featured a Deflategate joke) then, unsatisfied, says “Put down the cards, Tom.” He proceeds to riff on selfies and memoirs. “Kim Kardashian publishes a book of selfies, it’s cool. I publish a book of selfies, it’s creepy.”
It seemed that for most of the week, Dave just wanted to get down to brass tax and talk to the guests he handpicked to close out his run. This was more than evident during the desk piece, where he did a Top 10 list every night. I thought that Dave would really pull out all the stops and go back to the nostalgia bin to do some fun stuff, but either they’re saving it for the last three shows or they’re not even gonna bother. Every list felt like it was brainstormed an hour before the show (Top 10 Least Popular Thomas Edison Inventions, Top 10 Things Overheard at the Olive Garden Test Kitchen, etc.) The only interesting one is the extremely-meta Top 10 Thoughts Going Through Dave’s Mind While Presenting the Top Ten List, which includes the number one pick, “Johnny never had to do this shit.”
The best part of the show is when Letterman cuts loose. He’s truly at his best when he’s off-the-cuff and talking to people. He has an uncanny ability to just sit back at his desk and riff with ease, and this is when the Late Show begins to get entertaining. With a week full of stacked guests, there’s fun to be had. Dave and Howard Stern have a natural camaraderie (“What are you gonna do in Montana?” “I’m not going to Montana!” is the best running joke of the night.) Don Rickles shows up and does his Don Rickles thing. I honestly could have watched him and Howard Stern and Letterman riff all night. Adam Sandler performs a musical tribute via acoustic guitar, and it’s surprisingly earnest and funny. George Clooney handcuffs himself to Dave. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re not leaving,” George says. Dave looks at him, longingly, and says “You have beautiful eyes.” And the last guest of the week, Norm MacDonald, shows up and kills it with a brilliant stand-up set that ends with an amazing tribute to Dave.
Some guests are a bore, though Dave clearly enjoys their company and could give a shit about whether or not you care. Bill Clinton conducts his interview like a campaign stop; he seemed quite muted, as if he’s deliberating censoring himself from saying anything that could hurt Hilary’s campaign. I guess that’s par for the course when your wife is running for President. Julia Roberts shows up, and Dave is apparently very taken by her. Oprah talks about Africa, and then Dave starts getting bored and they discuss smoking pot and selfies.
And that’s that. At the conclusion of every show, Dave turns to the camera for a quick “Good night everybody.” I can’t even throw an exclamation mark in there because his voice never rises to that level. Letterman is a stone cold professional. He goes in, makes people laugh, he goes out. And that’s been the way he’s doing it for nearly thirty years. He is the last of the old guard to go, a veteran performer whose presence over the past few years has been taken for granted. Letterman has always been there, and soon, he will be gone. But even during a week of coasting to the finish line, he still finds a way to make it work. He can still turn it on when he needs to, and when he does, there’s simply nobody better than David Letterman.
Full Disclosure:
-You can still catch glimpses of the old Late Night absurdity shining through. George Clooney remains handcuffed to Dave throughout his interview with Tom Waits. And when Dave goes out for the monologue for the Friday show, Clooney is still handcuffed to him. (They tape Thursday and Friday on the same day.)
-My mom assures me that Bill Clinton playing sax on The Arsenio Hall Show was a huge deal.
-Dave, before going to commercial: “President Clinton everybody. We’ll be back with Adam Sandler.” I laughed really hard at this.
-Adam Sandler gives zero fucks about wearing a t-shirt and jeans in the Ed Sullivan Theater.
-Paul Schaffer doesn’t much to do other than conduct the band, but he seems like a genuinely good guy. He was a guest this week and got to tell old stories about James Brown and Bob Dylan.
-I did not watch Ryan Adams. I most definitely watched Tom Waits. His voice never ceases to amaze/frighten me.
-I ate clearly expired leftover pizza at eleven o’clock in the morning while watching the Oprah interview. I have no shame.
-If you’re gonna watch something from these shows, check out Norm MacDonald’s stand-up set. Also tune in for the last three shows airing this week, which I’m sure will be interesting. Tom Hanks on Monday. Bill Murray on Tuesday. No guests listed on Wednesday, which means it will be a parade of celebrities.
-Next time on Late Night Check-In: I have no idea. I’d like to do this once a month. I did two this month because I wanted to cover Letterman before he left. Look for another one sometime next month.
Holla Holla Hollister
Confidence, Articulate, Touch
It is important for a manager to identify the qualities of interviewees. David Grieves could read it on his interviewee’s faces. Literally. The job qualifications he was in search of were high check bones, full lips, and an attitude that say’s ‘I’m so cool that I can see you, but I will still pretend that you are not there.’ Anything else could be taught on the job.
The newest Hollister interviewee seated in David’s office was a squared jawed, olive skin Latino. He actually was not even applying for a job. He mistook David’s office for a changing room and David asked him to stay.
“So, are you interested in working for Hollister, Casper?”
“How much is the pay?”
“Minimum wage. We do offer full dental and ten percent discounts on all Hollister product.”
“I actually am looking for a new job.”
“Really.” David saw an opening that he could exploit. “Where are you working now?”
“I work irrigation for Son-of-a-Ditch.”
“Irrigation is tough work, Casper. Tough work leads to wrinkles. Here at Hollister we don’t do hard work. Do you see that sign?”
David pointed to a sign tacked to the wall behind Casper. A black stick figure was bent at the waist as he attempted to pick up a black cube. A red circle with a line across enclosed the figure.
“Yea. We have those at Son-of-a-Ditch. It means to not lift with your waist.”
“Waist, back, knees…whatever it is, we don’t lift with it over at Hollister.”
“I’m used to breaking my back everyday at work.”
“Think of Hollister as a low input high output organization. We defy the laws of logic if you really think about it. So, would you be like to join the family?”
David extended his hand over his desk towards Casper.
“Ah, sure. I could use a change of pace. Not much can be worse then digging a ditch.” Casper met his hand and shook with confidence.
“Colon cancer. Colon cancer is worse then ditch digging, but that is neither here nor there. Can you come back tomorrow at eight thirty for training?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“Great. See you then.”
Casper rose from the chair and left David Grieves office. David reclined in his black office chair, put his hands intertwined behind his head and sang softly to himself.
“Jungle love, it’s driving me mad, it’s making me crazy…crazy.”
I Watched the Original Mad Max So That You Don’t Have To
Most Americans upon seeing a 15-second commercial for some new dirt-storm, four-wheeled, perhaps racing? or escaping? gaudy, kinda scary-lookin’, possibly Charlize Theron starring? summer blockbuster movie titled Mad Max: Fury Road, shouldn’t be blamed for sighing “Is this a Death Race thing?” or “More Fast and the Furious rip-offs huh?” Even I, upon just a brief Wikipedia browsing, realized I had much to learn about this Somewhat-peeved Maximilian.
For instance, there are already two sequels to the original Mad Max (1979): Mad Max 2: Road Warrior(1981)(presumably Weekend Warrior was taken) and Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome(1985)(all-time great ’80s action movie title). In addition, these are Australian films, not American films set in Australia but filmed in a place in Arizona that looks kinda like Australia. American audiences slurped up these V8 movies and helped make them a lot of Dingos, or whatever they call money down there; nonetheless, they were shot in Australia, by an Australian director, with an Australian cast.
A clean-cut, unemotive Mel Gibson plays Max (Mel grew up in Westchester County, New York until the age of 12 when he moved to Sydney). That’s right, a baby-faced Mel, unaware of the evils of The Jews and presumably unenchanted with the violence of the Christ. Mel is so innocent looking in this film, that it’s almost hard to imagine him developing into the unhinged monster we see today. But in retrospect, his strangely aloof and sometimes awkward performance in this movie now seems like a red flag for ‘Insane Person Inside Syndrome.’
Nevertheless, I watched the very first Mad Max. And I must say, time has not done it any favors. It didn’t do itself any favors either, with a meandering plot, seemingly disjointed scenes, chaotic pacing, and just fucking strange acting. I say strange acting because some of these scenes include such bizarre facial expressions that it’s hard for me to imagine a director allowing them if it wasn’t for some comedic or surreal effect. But by far the most egregiously improbable element of this movie is how everyone just willingly wears leather pants in the heat of the Australian Outback, I mean c’mon. The whole film felt like an uncomfortable acid trip inside of a Hot Wheels play-set. But I digress, I’m going to give you the viewer’s digest of this film, to spare you.
4:48 – Big surprise, the film starts off with a car chase. One of the Main Force Patrol (these are the good guys) aka The Police in dystopian Australia, spins out. Chubby cop kicks his fucked-up hood and tosses it on the ground in frustration, like a child. This is what I imagine parallel universe Dukes of Hazzard is like.
They’re chasing a guy called “Nightrider” (no, not that Knight Rider) who is maniacally laughing as he drives with his pink-haired, Hot-Topic girlfriend alongside him.
Continue reading I Watched the Original Mad Max So That You Don’t Have To
Is The Tonight Show Really That Bad?
This is late night check-in, a feature where I watch a full week of one talk show and discuss how it was. Last week I watched “The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon”, from 4/27 to 5/1.
The Tonight Show has taken a lot of flack over the past few years. Since the Conan-Leno debacle and the backlash against the latter, The Tonight Show is no longer the cultural touchstone it once was (when every conceivable adult in America gathered around a television to watch Johnny Carson.) Today, there are plenty of late night options to choose from with no real king – though it’s easy to argue that Jimmy Fallon could claim such a title. His incarnation of the show is currently the highest rated late night talk show. His YouTube channel has 7 million subscribers with nearly 3 billion total views and produces at least one viral video per week.
A lot of comedy nerds will tell you The Tonight Show is crap. There’s no comedy, it’s just a bunch of meandering games, etc. Andrés du Bouchet, a long-time writer for Conan, recently caught some heat for tweeting about his dissatisfaction regarding the aforementioned. “Comedy in 2015 needs a severe motherfucking shakeup,” he said in a now deleted tweet. “No celebrities, no parodies, no pranks, no mash-ups or hashtag wars. I’m fat.”
So how much of that is accurate? The current incarnation of The Tonight Show features a regular dose of celebrity-based comedy, parodies and mash-ups. There’s few pranks and certainly no hashtag wars but the show does feature Tonight Show Hashtags (we’ll get to that later.) How much of this is pandering to the audience and how much is actual comedy? What’s to be expected when you watch a full week of The TonightShow?
First things first. Jimmy Fallon has come a long way since his nervous, jittery Late Night debut six years ago. He’s now a seasoned performer with all the chops necessary for being a talk show host. Like all good talk show hosts, he’s crafted a niche for himself. Fallon is an entertainer, ideally one for the whole family. He’s immensely positive and likable. It’s hard to hate a guy who wants the audience both at home and in studio to have fun. Both the show and its host are completely devoid of cynicism.
His monologue at the top of the show is quick, efficient and confident. Like Conan, Fallon tends to act out things at the end of jokes. His chameleon-like impressions can elevate a joke further or even save a particularly bad one. He’ll riff and improvise with his sidekick, Steve Higgins, and it’s usually pretty good. And anytime The Roots chime in, it’s just icing on the cake.
A Month After Its Release, We Grapple with TPAB’s Place
Illmatic or It Was Written? Ready to Die or Life After Death? Slim Shady LP or Marshall Mathers LP? Food & Liquor or The Cool? good kid, m.A.A.d city or To Pimp a Butterfly?
The prophecy has been foretold, and foretold, and foretold. The savior, who drops two classics, then disappoints us, and if he’s truly the savior, makes up for it in the long run (see: Nas). But I’m not going to postulate about the future for Kendrick, instead lets appreciate what this particular prodigy has done. When I first heard To Pimp a Butterfly I was positive it was better than GKMC. This was what I had been waiting for, where parts of GKMC left me yearning for just a little more, I now felt satisfied.
TPAB is not an album you can taste in one sip, or even one glass. It requires intensive, diligent and repeated consumption. You will change your mind again, and again, and again, about elements of it. Second albums by the prodigious rap star are always sprawling attempts to recapture the spirit of the first, while proving that they can do even better. They usually lash out at a force bigger than themselves and puff out their chest at anyone trying to tell them anything. This is where Kendrick separates himself. Where most have taken this moment to give the world an angst-y middle finger and stomp up their gorgeous marble spiral staircase and slam their heavy double doors, Kendrick only blames himself. With armor-piercing self-awareness, he blames himself for even the possibility that fame and wealth has changed him, for even the potential for him to be corrupted. It’s a bleak but cautionary parable from a future self, sent to forewarn of the self-loathing guilt that will await him should he betray Compton. Don’t play the victim, be responsible for “U” he infers; this is a common theme throughout.
After a year full of #BlackLivesMatter and #ICantBreath you’d think Kendrick would aim some, if not most, of his fire-breathing passion at institutional racism on his 16 track, hour-plus slam poetry funk record. But somehow he didn’t. It’s perplexing at best, and irresponsible at worst. Okay, to be fair there is “The Blacker the Berry”. But it’s hard to tell how much of that anger is aimed at himself, and how much is at the system that “hates him” when he begins and ends the song with calling himself a hypocrite. His stream-of-consciousness flow wrestles with issues of black self-love and hypocrisy throughout the album. Symbolically, on “i” he addresses the importance self-esteem, and then when the dramatized live crowd causes a ruckus he lectures them about the word “nigga”. It’s clumsy, but it’s also about perspective. About when you’re in the heat of the moment, step back and see the bigger picture. Where GKMC weaved its way through the nooks and crannies of the city, TPAB weaves through the psyche of young Kendrick like a parasitic epiphany; an epiphany that is heavily centered on Black unity and cultural appreciation.
Continue reading A Month After Its Release, We Grapple with TPAB’s Place
Bored with usual spring break destinations, 8 trust fund kids are going to the moon this break
“Yeah, once you go to Turk and Caicos for the fifth time it kind of loses its luster you know? So this year we decided to switch it up and go to the moon” Says Tyler Chadberg of Merrick, New York.
Tyler and seven of his closest bros have rented a space shuttle to go to the moon. The group of American Flag tank top, and pastel short wearing trustifarians left early last Saturday for their trip. “It’s kind of dark out here but the zero gravity is a better floaty feeling than the molly we scored last Spring Break so we are pumped about that” said Kyle Witherton late Tuesday evening.
The shuttle which has been deemed “The Space Boner” by the squad will land on the moon later tonight. The shuttle is also equipt with a selfie stick to get the maximum amount of shots of the squad doing Coors Light keg stands. It isn’t all flat brims and rainbows though. “Shawn forgot to bring his foam machine AND backup batteries for the ihome, we are tough, we will find a way to make it through” said Tyler.
The Space Boner is due back to Earth Sunday evening so they can all be back for class on Monday.
Artist Profile: Kevin Burzynski
Kevin Burzynski is a Brooklyn based artist who specializes in photography, film, and collages. The following photos are part of his series “two”. Following the piece is an interview of Kevin Burzynski conducted by “Melt” correspondent Cory Loomis. Check out his website http://www.kevin-burzynski.com
KB: I’m ready Dr. Loomis
CL: Okay, to be completely true to the piece, I will start it by asking two questions.
Last I knew you were living in Brooklyn, are you still living there?
and what brought you out that way?
KB: I’m still out here. I moved here to work in the tv and film industry right after college. Still doing it up. It was easier to move to than LA.
CL: Do you believe there are “high” forms of art and “low” forms of art? Or are all mediums equal?
KB: Well there’s definitely “low brow” and “high brow” art, but a lot of times the low bro stuff is much better and creates a bigger impact, but it’s hard to rule if one piece is better than the other, I guess beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
CL: Yeah a lot of collage artists seem to go for shock value where you take a more minimalist approach which I find refreshing. Do you consciously take a more minimalist approach to avoid being considered low-brow?
KB: Thanks! Is my stuff minimalist? I guess I take a minimalist approach in a way, but definitely not to be considered high brow or to avoid being low brow. I think a lot of my pieces are simple/minimal in a way because I’m trying to portray an idea, adding a million different cutouts is going to look cheesy; it looks like vomit to me. I don’t really want it to look like something people are gonna look at on acid in their dorm room. I like everything to be well-calculated and thought out beforehand. I usually think about a collage for a couple months before I actually start making it. And then the actual process of making it only takes a few hours usually.
CL: That’s a pretty high brow approach. Collages to me kind of fall under the “pop art” umbrella. What do you think about artists who use celebrities as subjects in their pieces?
Is Chattanooga The South’s Silicon Valley?
As I sit inside a café built into a once abandoned warehouse perusing a craft beer menu, I have to remind myself that I’m south of the Mason-Dixon. The warehouse district in Chattanooga, Tennessee, known as Warehouse Row, is filled with modern cafés, Pilates and yoga studios, and artisanal boutiques. It’s something you might not expect to come from a small city bordering deep red states Alabama and Georgia.
The bartender sets my draft on a refrigerated strip of bar top, a neat little innovation. The menu is full of southern comfort food, biscuits, mac ‘n’ cheese, and fried chicken; but it’s the ‘goat cheese’ grits that have caught my attention. Long story short, delicious; and it all adds up to this curious juxtaposition of slightly snobby southern comfort.
That weekend I spent in Chattanooga a comic-con, known as Chatta-con was being held in the convention center downtown. After indulging in some people-watching in the lobby of my hotel, I met a photographer who told me the best way to get around downtown is the “free electric shuttle system.” What is this the Google campus? The shuttles, which look just like your everyday city bus, run on electricity and use easy-to-replace battery packs. In addition, some “smart buses” offer free wifi. Oh, and it’s FREE to ride.
Now, I’m just a good ole northern boy and this kind of techno-stuff can leave me a tad befuddled. So when the FCC passed its net neutrality bill last week, we decided to take a closer look.
Chattanooga, Tennessee is faster than you. For less than $70 a month, consumers enjoy an ultrahigh-speed fiber-optic connection that transfers data as instant pulses of light rather than signals over a metal cable. These fiber-optic cables send data at one gigabit per second. That is 50 times the average speed for homes in the rest of the country.
Wow this is great, which private corporation made this possible? Don’t tell me, don’t tell me…..Enron is making a comeback?! No, actually it’s Chattanooga itself. The City of Chattanooga owns a public utility company, Electric Power Board (EPB). Only about 2,000 cities in the U.S. have community owned electric utilities, and only a handful of those include public internet as a utility. Chattanooga is the first to install a fiber-optic network for its public internet services. This began when they received an $111 million federal stimulus grant, which gave them the ability to expedite construction of a fiber-optic network.
YOU MEAN OBAMA HAS MADE MY BELOVED TENNESSEE SOCIALIST???
The Post-Academy 