Neil Young: Prairie Wind

written by Fumo Verde

Neil Young, the name says it all. Rock Star, Pop Icon, Musical Dissident, Legend. Whatever words you use, Neil Young by any other name is still rock and roll, the roots of rock and roll that is. Prairie Wind is being touted as one of, if not the best album Young has made. That's a hard call, but I can tell you that Prairie Wind is as basic and as close to home as Young can be. It's gentle slow waltz rhythms on songs such as "It's a Dream" to its rockin' rhythm of country blues on "Far From Home" show the diversity that has kept Neil a musical superstar all these years. Prairie Wind is no compilation album; its Neil Young at his purest.

The lead off song is "The Painter" (Critic's Choice- Time) which lays the groundwork for the rest of the album. Like wheat fields blowing in the summer wind, the melody takes you along for the ride, but the words warn otherwise, "If you follow every dream, you might get lost," certainly good advice.

The haunting song “No Wonder” follows it. This one gave me goose bumps as it played. Young's lyrics in this one talk of days past when birds blocked out the sun on their journey south and tell you why we are "losing time". It also had a line in there that has me wondering, after 9/11, what did Chris Rock say? This is Neil's political "gotcha" song where he just tells it like it is.

Other songs, such as "This Old Guitar" pays homage to the tool that gave him the keys to the car that has driven him all this way, and hopefully for a little while longer. "Prairie Wind," the title track, is another one of Young's gritty blues tracks that send messages such as, "You can see into the future, but it maybe a mirage/Like a new car sittin' there in your old garage". Young can feel the times changing around him, and he puts thought to what our world once was not that very long ago. "He Was The King" is Young's tribute to Elvis as he had seen him through the years.

The final track is "When God Made Me", this sure won't be Dr. Dobson's favorite, because it really asks questions about the way things are being presented. "...did He envision all the wars that were fought in His name?" Young never shies away from controversy, and in this hymnal melody with very simple words, Young challenges the religious sects from all over, asking "what makes you think you are so right." (That's not a line in there, but a feeling I got from the song.)

I wouldn't say this is his best album ever, because I hope he has more to come, but this is certainly one of his strongest. In a time where people are being fed fear from all directions, and you don't feel you can trust anybody any more, here comes Neil Young, not charging in like the cavalry, but approaching soft and quiet, ever-changing like a prairie wind.

A bonus edition comes with a DVD that features the recording of Prairie Wind.

If you like Neil Young, this is a must. Happy Winter Solstice, babies. FV

The Who: Tommy and Quadrophenia Live w/Special Guests

written by Fumo Verde

My old man was heavily into his music, bands like The Doors, Jimi Hendrix and of course, The Who. His songs became my songs, as we would do the old Father/Son things together, such as going to the hardware store to replace the nail gun I jacked up. So in 1989, when I got the chance to see The Who play live, I diverted "smoking funds" to "ticket funds" and had enough to buy not only a ticket to see The Who at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena, but I also had enough to see them perform Tommy at Universal Amphitheatre.

The first disc of this three-DVD set is that show. I had a great time at the show, even though I was sitting in the way back, second row from the very back wall, but this DVD brought me right up front. This was way cool for me watching a show I had been too. It was a great show then and still impresses me today.

The story of Tommy opens at the end of World War I with Mrs. Walker giving birth to a young son, whose father, Captain Walker is missing in action. Years later after Tommy's birth and still no word on her husband, Nora Walker (played in the movie by Ann Margaret) marries Frank Hobbs. Captain Walker unexpectedly appears later, and in front of the eyes of young Tommy, Hobbs kills Walker. The effect on the young boy gives way to his illness, causing him to become deaf, dumb and blind. It seems that the only thing the boy can do is stare into the mirror and play pinball.

The movie was pretty trippy, but this live show cuts through the acid-trip visuals and brings you the music. On stage, the backdrop flashes scenes from the movie depicting either who sung the original song or what was going on at that point in the movie. Written captions also give the viewer who may have never seen the movie an idea of what is happening.

Starting off the guests list is Steve Winwood as the Hawker, played by Eric Clapton in the movie, who sings "Eyesight to the Blind". This is a great opener, with Winwood playing the lead guitar on this section just like Clapton did. Next is Billy Idol, who at the time was on the top of his game. He plays and sings the song "Cousin Kevin". At the time I didn't think he did a very good job, looking back now, well, I guess I just don't like Billy Idol. Next up is Patti Labelle singing the song made famous in the movie by Tina Turner, "The Acid Queen", who is supposed to help the young boy regain his vision and hearing.

In the movie, Tommy is pushed and pulled towards all these characters, in the stage version, the characters come to Tommy. Even the "Pinball Wizard" himself, Elton John, the only person to appear in both versions, strolls in to pay homage to that "...deaf dumb and blind kid...' who "...sure plays a mean pinball." Both LaBelle and John put out great performances, but the best was Phil Collins. Taking over the roll of Uncle Ernie, originally done by Who drummer Keith Moon, R.I.P. Collins came out in boxers and a bathrobe, touting a bottle of what looked like J&B scotch, and grabbing his crotch as he sings his song "Fiddle About".

The Who themselves play all the other parts as they did before. The music is invigorating and the crowd can feel the energy and the excitement, maybe because I was there. However it may be, this version of Tommy is a great way to see it.

The second disc gets better. Quadrophenia, The Who's other great rock drama, was the story of Jimmy Cooper a boy, growing up during the turbulent 1960's, who was so desperately trying to fit in with his crowd of friends. Jimmy has a slight problem; the doctor says that while he's not crazy, he has a split-personality disorder made of four people. Along with the pills and the gin, Jimmy launches himself into the world of the "wild ones" where fights between the Mods and the Rockers erupt at every meeting.

The way The Who did this one was amazing. The performance of Quadrophenia, taken from their 1996-97 tour, blends live music with footage of what was really going on at the time of these riots in England. It also features Alex Langdon as Jimmy, who appears on screen and tells parts of the story as it rolls along. Other artists in include P.J. Proby as the Godfather in the song "The Punk and the Godfather", Simon Townsend as the Bus Driver in "Dirty Jobs" and Billy Idol, once again, playing the Ace Face.

Quadrophenia was also a movie, but more so than Tommy. The music was a soundtrack that helped the movie images flow from scene to scene. On this DVD, it's the images that help out as the music tells the tale. Quadrophenia is Townsend's story, yet not only his, but also his band mates as well. The four personalities in Jimmy are the four personalities of The Who. One of the albums most famous songs, sung by Daltrey is "Love Reign O'er Me" which closes out the movie as we see Jimmy drive his Vespa over the white cliffs of Dover.

The third disc in this set is a collection of live songs The Who did after both shows and a couple of other dates. By selecting a second camera angle, Townsend and Daltrey appear onscreen like The Ghosts of Rock Past, offering up insightful commentary about the proceedings.

When The Who stopped touring after the US festival in 1981, they hit some financial problems so they came up with a reunion tour and the idea to do Tommy live. The tour helped their money situation and in turn it gave us this collection. Tommy was produced as a pay-per-view event and with the intention of being released, but the Quadrophenia show was made for The Who's own archives. Looking back now, I was very lucky to see it performed live, and now I'm lucky to relive it again in a different light with a better view. I also get to see Quadrophenia performed live too. Moon and Entwistle have passed. Daltrey and Townsend aren't getting any younger, but no matter what, the music The Who gave us can still light the fire in the hearts of the rebellious. "I hope I die before I get old". It's not about age, but the spirit, which lives on these discs.

keep on rockin', Fumo Verde.

NORTH COUNTRY

by Carlito de Corea

Misogyny is the theme in North Country. Based on a true story, the film tells the story of Josey Aimes, who takes on the Pearson Mining Company over allegations of sexual abuse. The story begins in the courtroom, where Josey, played by Charlize Theron, is answering a series of degrading questions. The film flashes back to where it all began, intermittently returning to the courtroom until the story is under way.

The story proper begins with Josey leaving home, with her kids in tow, to stay with her parents because of domestic abuse. The husband in this case is generic. We never see him, except obscurely when Josey is fighting with him on the lawn of her parents’ home almost immediately after leaving him. This scene is a strong indicator of how things will go, both for Josey, and for we the viewers, as her father watches without helping and makes cynical remarks about her being a troublemaker. The tone is heavy from the start and never lets up, until the end, when it swings wildly in the other direction, to a sentimental catharsis in court that ultimately ruins some small ground the film was beginning to regain.

Back in the courtroom, the company’s attorney asks Josey when she first started working at the mine. We flash back to a local bar where she first meets her friend Grace, played by Frances McDormand, a union rep and employee of the Pearson Mining Company. Over a beer and a game of darts they become friends and shortly thereafter Josey is also working at the mine. From here the film describes excruciatingly the degrading conditions the women at the mine have to endure: endless litanies of derogatory, sexually explicit remarks and unwanted advances by their male co-workers.

A recent court decision has forced the Pearson Mining Company to allow women to work at the mine, and, as a result, new female recruits experience open hostility and resentment. They are also subject to the constant threat of rape. “Cunt,” one man says under his breath, passing Josey in a hallway as she is being led to her first assignment. “Who’s gonna be my bitch?” another man says just after this, as their foreman turns them over to another employee for work detail.

Things get so bad that Josey is forced to quit her job at the mine. She decides to take legal action and enlists the help of Bill White, played by Woody Harrelson, a lawyer and friend, and one of the only two males realistically portrayed in this film. Josey encounters resistance from everyone, including her own family—namely her father who himself has worked at the mine for most of his life—and from the women who still have to work there and don’t want to make waves. She tries to get her fellow employees to stand with her, to stand up for what’s right and make it safe for women to work at the mine. She only needs three more women to join her and her case can be filed as a “Class Action” suit, setting a legal precedent and giving them a better chance of winning.

While the story and theme in North Country are interesting, and the film is at times moving, its portrayal of misogyny is unfortunately too cynical and exaggerated. From the start we are subjected to a constant barrage of unrealistic male characters. With one or two exceptions, the men in North Country are all menacing sociopaths, one-dimensional characters with no moral fiber whatsoever, their behavior more closely resembling that of prison inmates. So much focus is put on describing men as leering, salacious pigs—it seems like there is one waiting around every dark corner—that the portrayals become cliché, over the top, and we are no longer interested in them, except as comic book villains whose only purpose it is to draw us cheaply and reflexively into condemning bad people and cheering for the hero of the story.

The pitch of negativity reaches its climax at a company meeting devoted entirely to deriding Josey and further ensuring that everyone remains against her so that she doesn’t win the lawsuit and everyone can keep their jobs. Bobby Sharp, played by Jeremy Renner, Josey’s primary nemesis, and part of a subplot which I won’t reveal, delivers a speech full of derogatory expletives directed at Josey that has the entire town hall hooting and hollering over her demise. Josey enters the meeting with her lawyer and friend, Bill White, summoning the courage to speak out and demanding her right to speak at the microphone, whereupon she is booed and jeered and told to get lost. Determined not to give up, Josey carries on, making her way to the podium amidst the deafening clamor of crude remarks. She tries to appeal to the hardened crowd, delivering an emotional speech that for a moment seems to be having an effect. Surprisingly, the miners stop booing and we wonder for a moment if she might not turn the crowd in her favor. But once again the jeering starts.

“Hey Josie, show us your tits,” one man shouts, triggering another deluge of lewd remarks.

Having had enough, Josie’s father, Hank, played by Richard Jenkins, walks to the podium and instructs his daughter to hand over the mic. Crushed and no longer able to defend herself against what could prove to be the ultimate final insult, she stares at her father helplessly, pleadingly. Is he really going to silence her, we wonder. Or might he possibly, finally defend his daughter against this lunacy. We are overcome by a long needed release of tension when Hank takes the microphone from his daughter and rather than walking away takes a place beside her at the podium. Both Theron and Jenkins deliver powerful performances in this scene, and like Pavlov’s dog I responded to it. But I did so begrudgingly, aware all the while that this basic and obvious component of compassion was artificially withheld from me in order to achieve this effect.

This scene also had the unfortunate effect of reminding me why much of what I had seen so far was now even more implausible: HER FATHER WORKS AT THE MINE AND HAS FRIENDS THERE!!! Most men do not badger and sexually harass their friends’ daughters, or their colleagues’ daughters, and most likely would not put up with it from other people as well. I personally don’t know any men who wouldn’t at least say, “Hey watch your mouth,” when someone was calling his friend’s daughter a bitch and a whore. The scene also ends with another unlikely occurrence. Everyone starts clapping after Hank delivers his speech, in which he told them how ashamed he was of them all and that he had no more respect for them. Why would you cheer your own denunciation?

At this point, however, complaints of inconsistencies at the town hall meeting aside, I felt that the film was becoming more reasonable and might become more interesting. That is to say that some of the key characters were becoming human, finally, and the film, subsequently, more realistic. There is a nice moment when Josey is back at home with her father and mother, played by Sissy Spacek, and the family finally seems to be coming together. Her father gets up from the table at one point to embrace her when she breaks down and says she doesn’t know if she can take any more. As well, there is a tender moment between herself and her oldest son, Sammy, who finally seems to relent after feeling resentment and hostility toward his mother for the pressure that her infamy has put him under. Unfortunately, however, the film then swings too heavily toward the sentimental, delivering a soppy courtroom ending that borders on the absurd, and shows as much insight into courtroom proceedings as it does into male psychology.

A good cast makes much of the exaggerated treatment of this subject bearable, and I admit to being drawn into the story at times, but, unfortunately, I found myself too often wanting to be drawn in more than I was being drawn in. Too many exaggerations and a constant sense that the chips were unrealistically stacked against Josey kept me from warming up to North Country. The depiction of men in this movie was also disappointing. The type of aggression toward women described in the film should perhaps have been characterized as the exception rather than the rule, if for no other reason than to create a greater degree of tension in the film, a greater degree of balance, even if the events described really happened and the majority of the men at the mine were evil and cowardly in real life.

Grateful Dead: Fillmore West 1969

by Fumo Verde

This one's for the Deadheads in the house, but first a little history lesson. Live/Dead, considered one of the band's best albums, was released in late '69 and was recorded over a four-night period from February 27 to March 2, 1969 at the Fillmore West. It was the first-ever, 16-track stereo, live album ever made. At the time of this recording, most albums were recorded in two-track. The Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band was recorded in three-track. Folks such as Tom Dowd at Atlantic Records were dabbling in eight-track, so for the Dead doing this in 16-track, it was a major breakthrough, technology-wise. The Dead pretty much wrote their own ticket after that and the rest is Dead history.

This new release from Rhino Records revisits their legendary run at the Fillmore and expands on it, even featuring different versions of tracks that appear on Live/Dead that are as clear as they can be for a live show recorded some 30 years ago. This whole album captures a time that was not only a turning point for the Grateful Dead, but it marked a turning point in music history.

The doors to the past are opened for us with songs like "Cosmic Charlie", "Turn on Your Love Light" and that blues staple "I'm A King Bee" along with some feedback and crowd noise. Light up some of that Trainwreck that's making the rounds and I'm there, babies. With the 23-minute "That's It For The Other One" and the 25-minute "Jam" section, this album unchains the band from what most other artists at the time were trying to break free of. These tracks give the Dead a chance to let their hair..ah...down, or flow as the case maybe, and it shows how good they could really be. Any Deadhead who has a few shows under their belt will tell you, "when they are ON, they are really ON, but when they aren't, man, it really shows." The shows at the Fillmore West were some of the best.

This was also a time when Robert Hunter started his treasure trove of a relationship with the Dead, by helping to write the words to "Dark Star", a pivotal song for the Dead, that when played live would open up many different musical avenues for the band to travel down. It was a signature piece of Dead performances for the next half of the century. Here, they create 20 minutes of musical magic before delving into the majestic "St. Stephen."

The three discs are incased in a hardbound booklet, with the decorative artwork in a black and white setting that gives it that "historical look back" style. Inside treasure awaits. The 60-page book explains how the Dead managed to pull off such a feat as this album, and that the release of Live/Dead saved the Dead from financial disaster. It's also filled with about 30-odd pages of just pictures of the band in all sorts of aspects and views. The boys at the time were still boys from the Haight Ashbury scene, Phil, Jerry, Bob and Pigpen. There is also a picture of the original set lists with red pen marks that indicate the songs and sets that were put on this album.

Fillmore West 1969 is a perfect collector's item for any Deadhead this holiday, or any time. The music is strictly Dead, and the booklet itself is worth the money. As the band gets older more things that we may or may not have heard before will probably rain down upon the record stores or in the form of digital downloads so that we may buy them, but its going to be hard to beat this set. Hearing the Dead live, and looking at the photos from way back when brings one's mind back to a time when rock 'n' roll meant something and the only hassle at a show was just trying to scalp a ticket to get in.

The Dead were a band of innovators, a band who pushed itself to the limit, sometimes too far, but they always brought it back for the fans. With this three-CD set you not only get to hear the Dead live, but you get a backstage pass to read what was really going on behind the scenes at those shows live at the Fillmore West back in 1969.

hohoho.....from Fumo.

ELIZABETHTOWN

by Carlito de Corea

If you like to watch films that reflect the difficulties of ordinary life, the pain of true loss, and then some hard fought redemption, or perhaps resulting ruin, something that you can relate to, see your own suffering in, then Cameron Crowe's new movie, Elizabethtown, will not be for you. If, on the other hand, you simply like to escape daily life and enjoy a good movie with a good story, then…no, maybe Elizabethtown still won't work for you.

The film begins with Drew Baylor, played by Orlando Bloom, making his way toward an expensive looking corporate office, the headquarters for Mercury, the shoe manufacturing giant for whom he works, perhaps a parody of Nike. We realize something is not right for him as he enters the building and makes his way through the palatial concourse toward one of the building's boardrooms, where we sense some terrible fate awaits him. “I'm ok,” he says repeatedly to some of the people he passes. This peculiar behavior sparks an urge to laugh out loud, as it clearly implies the opposite, that he is not okay, and that he is walking toward some monumental disaster. I have to admit that this movie did hold my attention for a few minutes, and that I did laugh out loud. I wondered what in the world was going to happen to him. I was ready to sympathize, to empathize, as yes, we too feel the weight, daily, of the corporate bullies crowding us out, shrinking our burgers and raising the prices on everything we come near. And we don't even dare to think of actually working for them. Yes, this could be good. Drew is our whipping boy. Go get 'em, brother.

After sort of being informed by his boss, played by Alec Baldwin, that he would be taking the fall for a particular line of shoe that has lost the company nine hundred and something million dollars, and to which he was closely linked, if not entirely responsible for, Drew returns to an expensive home, as progressive looking as his office, and begins to rig his stationary exercise bike with a huge kitchen knife that will stab him through the chest when he turns the machine on. The tension is humorously released when his cell phone begins vibrating on the kitchen table. Annoyed and not even able to commit suicide properly, he succumbs and answers this one last call, only to find out that his father has died and that his family is now relying on him to go to Elizabethtown, Kentucky, to take care of funeral arrangements, and straighten things out with his father's side of the family. Unfortunately, the initial feeling that any number of incredible and unexpected things could happen to this character soon gives way to a litany of trite, uneventful circumstances. The pathos in this early sequence is never returned to again, and soon after it the film begins to lose its integrity.

His suicide postponed, Drew is now forced back into the arena of life, and so embarks on what is the main narrative of the story, heading into the past while trying to work out the present, and meeting Claire, played by Kirsten Dunst, and falling in love with her. He arrives in Kentucky to a heartfelt, near-parade of a welcome, accompanied by nostalgic music and some cool images of small town America as he cruises through Elizabethtown in his rented car. But instead of settling down into a heartfelt journey of self realization, or personal hardships and conflict, Elizabethtown digresses into an assortment of styles and loosely arranged scenes that barely cohere. We see problems early on when Drew arrives at his father's wake and the film tries to achieve a deadpan quirk, a la The Coen Brothers, laying it on thick with dumb lines and heavy pauses between them to accentuate the stupidity of the characters, of small town folk as it happens, a cliché that small-town folk, maybe even from Elizabethtown, won't much appreciate, I'm guessing. Many scenes in the film seem to be all about the attempt at this type of humor, becoming the focus of purposeless moments, like the drunken newlywed man Drew encounters while stealing beer from one of the rooms at his hotel, a scene that is not only self-conscious and contrived, and patently unfunny, but poorly acted as well. The film slips in and out of this type of irony and realism, returning to Crowe's more usual sentimental tones when the film returns to its focus on Drew and Claire.

Getting the most out of his actors, or even concern over the acting in this film at all, doesn't seem to weigh heavily on Cameron Crowe's mind. The casting of Orlando Bloom, for example, is questionable, although a whole lot better than his purported first choice, Ashton Kutcher. At times Bloom seems uncertain whether to add to the effect of irony Crowe is often trying to achieve with his own expressions, or to hold back and play it straight. But worse than this, Bloom seems throughout to possess an irrepressible confidence, even smugness, that undermines the desperation Drew is supposed to be feeling. He is simply too glib, and as I watched the film I wondered whether he might not be more comfortable with a quiver of arrows on his back or a sword and some swashbuckling pirate's outfit, winking at the camera with that confident gleam in his eye. He lacked the inner turmoil we have seen from actors like Cruise in previous Crowe films, or John Cusack in many of his performances. Bloom is a decent actor, but is perhaps miscast, or at least misdirected, in this film. He just exudes too much confidence for a man on the brink.

Before arriving in Kentucky, Drew has encountered the already-loyal, undyingly enthusiastic Claire, the only stewardess on a flight where he is also the only passenger. This encounter, which most of us can of course relate to, signals perhaps the biggest problem with this film. There is utterly no conflict. In Elizabethtown everything works out, and nothing acquired comes with any difficulty. Drew simply breezes through one scene after another with everything falling into place as he goes. There is no loss, no pain, no catharsis. Where's the recoil from the loss of a billion dollars? And Claire, despite being an airline hostess whose job it is to travel all over the country, always manages to be there beside him at his hotel in Kentucky, where he is either in the process of preparing for the memorial for his father or arguing with his father's side of the family over whether to cremate his father's body or have him buried in the traditional way. And she understands him…fully. Throughout the film we simply watch them come to like each other more and more. The closest their relationship ever comes to danger is when Drew appears for perhaps fifteen seconds to be distancing himself from her because of his inner turmoil over losing Mercury a billion dollars. She responds, as with all things she discusses, by basically saying she understands everything. Problem solved.

The film crescendos with a banquet, where the tension of a vague subplot relating to some long held feud between Drew's mother, played by Susan Sarandon, and father's side of the family, is finally released. But this moment only highlights, once again, that Crowe has little control over his material, or has poor material he is trying to give meaning to. The latter seems closer to the truth. The film at this point is supposed to have some cathartic significance, with Sarandon's character delivering a speech in the form of a comedy routine, because…she's been taking standup comedy classes…because…well, she's been working stuff out. Somewhat on their own among the Kentucky side of the family, Drew's immediate family experiences a collective catharsis, as Drew and his sister sit at a table at the front of the hall surrounded by the slightly hostile relatives and nervously watch their mother deliver a eulogy that comes dangerously close to being inappropriate and threatens to pull them even further out of the family's ambivalent graces. Fortunately, however, their mother wins everyone over with her routine and once again everything works out. The only problem is that Sarandon's comedy routine is inappropriate and completely unfunny, so idiotically inappropriate and unfunny that the only way any group of people under any circumstances would have laughed at it is if they had been under the influence of LSD.

As with many “nice” moments in the film, they often seem to have been conceived separately, and based rather on a preference for particular songs than on concern for the overall coherence of the work. Crowe almost seems to direct around his desire to highlight some of his favorite music. Claire and Drew's musically accompanied skip through the graveyard, for example, seemed particularly irrelevant to the film. The music itself too often seems to be the film's lead character, and one gets the impression that ideas for his movies come to him while he's listening to a particular song, and that he can't resist putting those scenes into his films, along with the songs that inspired them. Admittedly, some of the images are beautiful and combined with his taste in music, which is also good, create moments that lift us up and make us want to rock out with the picture, with his sentimentality. Unfortunately, there is nothing to fall back on. We realize, after time, that the picture is just that-a lot of rock and roll imagery without much substance.

Of course, through all of this non-turmoil Claire is waiting in the wings, but, for god knows what reason-there having been no real indication in the film so far that he would choose not to be with Claire-we are now made to understand that Drew is just not sure of what the future holds, and needs to go off on his own. Do some soul searching. Claire, ever-faithful, bids him good luck and sends him on a rock and roll Easter egg hunt across the country. She has left him with a selection of music and directions for great rock and roll landmarks to visit, accompanied with her ragamuffin scrapbook full of sentiments and philosophies, as well as a trail of clues toward the end of his journey that will lead him back to her, back “home.” The final clue, a note left in a running shoe-yes the very one he is infamous for-in some shopping mall or market, has him turn around to see Claire standing there in the crowd, waiting for him as always.

This final, irrelevant touch is simply too much, and hits us with the force of a Vogon poetry reading. Elizabethtown is unbearable. Even for people with a sweet tooth, I don't think this film will work. By the end, the sugars from my snacks were coagulating in my blood and I was looking for the exits. Elizabethtown is so insipid, such a maudlin tour de force, that when the end came I was shaking my head in disbelief, desperate to get out of the theatre, to go and do something about the sickly sweet feeling coursing through my veins-take some medication, walk it off somewhere, discuss it with an anger management group, or maybe even talk to a police officer to see if there was any legal recourse, some way to retrieve that ten dollars. “Hey, man, those guys just ripped me off.

ALL-AMERICAN GIRL: The Complete Series

by Caballero Oscuro

Margaret Cho completists now have an opportunity to pick up her short-lived sitcom from the mid-90s, All-American Girl. The DVD set has a few notable extras including commentary for a handful of episodes by Cho and co-star Amy Hill, as well as a brief retrospective also featuring Cho and Hill where they discuss the impact of the show and their perspectives on its run.

All-American Girl was loosely based on Cho’s experiences growing American in a traditional Asian family. While certainly noteworthy as the first US network show to feature an Asian cast, the comedy itself was dreadfully shopworn and commonplace. Cho has since gone on to great acclaim as a sharp, insightful standup comedian, so it’s a bit of a letdown to find her talents so woefully hidden in this production. However, she and her supporting cast are game and pleasant enough, especially Amy Hill as her TV-addicted, comically accented grandma.

The series is a classic "fish out of water" story, with Cho’s American attitudes continually clashing with her family’s traditional views on topics such as dating, employment and education. Her mother is her primary antagonist, while her father is the calm mediator. A couple of brothers and Cho’s girl friends are also along for the ride, but rarely contribute much more than throwaway one-liners each episode. The grandma gets the best material, usually via her comments during her time channel surfing through every possible bad show on the air. In one of her funniest episodes, she becomes a Nielsen rating participant, ultimately allowing her to offer the observation that ratings shouldn’t be the only deciding factor to keeping shows on the air, quality should count for something as well. Unfortunately, the show was just starting to show hints of quality at that point, so there was no apparent redeeming value to keeping it on the air. The series was struggling for survival at the time and was cancelled around a month after this episode aired.

The show seems extremely dated now and actually seems like it must have been dated even then, with laughable fashion for Cho and her friends and a horrendous soundtrack that sounds like it was lifted from an 80’s comedy club backup band. ABC had many similar sitcoms airing at the time (I’m looking at you, entire “TGIF” lineup), but for whatever reason Urkel and the Olsen Twins were allowed to prosper while All-American Girl folded. By far the most surprising aspect of this show is that in spite of its many shortcomings, it’s still watchable. It’s certainly not essential viewing by any stretch of the imagination, but it is a bland yet enjoyable serving of comfort food for your TV.

THE DICK CAVETT SHOW: ROCK ICONS

by Fumo Verde

Dick who, Fumo?

Dick Cavett, babies, he was “the” hep cat everyone wanted to be seen talking to back in the 1970s even though Johnny Carson ruled late night television. For example, Joni Mitchell didn't attend Woodstock because her manager was worried she might miss her appearance due to the bad traffic, and in a bonus feature we see The Rolling Stones perform at nine in the morning at Madison Square Garden because Cavett was the only interviewer Mick Jagger would let come and record the group.

Cavett was a comedian and a one-time writer for Jack Paar, Carson's predecessor on The Tonight Show. He went on to host a show for ABC, which eventually became, surprisingly enough, The Dick Cavett Show. He won an Emmy for the show, which was canceled, but then brought back to life more than once. He also won praise from his colleagues, not because of the people he had on his show, but because of the questions he asked and the way he listened. That is a rare concept....listening. Cavett did it and did it well making his guests feel much more comfortable.

That's sounds cool, Fumo, but Rock Icons, what's up?

Ok, this is kind of like a documentary, but it's not. It's a collection of Cavett's talk shows that aired during the years between 1968 and '74. He had all types of people on from rock stars to pro athletes to congressmen, and since the backdrop of the times were drugs, music and Vietnam, everybody from presidential possibilities to timeless actors had a voice on Cavett's show. The rock stars didn't just perform; they were interviewed and got to ask questions of other guests like everyone else did.

On disc one, when Sly and the Family Stone perform, the funk is out in force, and so is more noticeably the cocaine. If you look closely you can see it slide out of Sly's nose. This segment contains one of the oddest talk show interviews ever. It has got to be seen to be believed. I can't ever start to explain the madness that ensues during the interview.

Another moment I found to be funny is when Jefferson Airplane along with Steven Stills and David Crosby are jamming, Cavett turns to the camera and shouts for the young crowd surrounding him, who are watching the musicians intensely, "We'll be right...ah, we...oh you know." The show comes back with the band still jamming. Once again, Cavett looks at the camera, this time waving goodnight as the credits roll while the music keeps on coming.

Of historical significance is Jefferson Airplane's performance of "We Can Be Together". Obviously, the censor was an old man who had the job for a while and knew nothing about the long-haired freaks who sang rock 'n' roll because this DVD contains the first, and possibly the only time, the word MOTHERFUCKER was ever said on network television with the lyric “Up against the wall, motherfucker.” Hell, I would buy it just for that.

Disc Two is dedicated to Janis Joplin, who loved being on the show and liked Cavett a lot. On all three shows Janis sings her heart out. She makes one wonder where her spirit in music could have brought her if she hadn't passed on so young. In one episode there is an appearance by the comedic group the Committee, who Janis and Cavett both get to participate with in "Committee Chorus of Emotions"-- this was crazy, it almost topped the Sly Stone adventure as participants sang in different emotions.

Disc Three is an all-time classic. It starts out with Stevie Wonder, who at the time was about to turn 21 and didn't dig being called "little Stevie Wonder" any more. Of course, Cavett asks why. Stevie plays "Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I'm Yours", which was coming off his next album. The liner notes explain that it was the name of the album, but the song itself never made it to that vinyl cut. It eventually became a B-side.

Next up is George Harrison, the first Beatle to hit number one on the record charts as a solo artist, promoting his new album and soon-to-be-released film Concert for Bangladesh. He brings a film clip that shows a performance of "Bangla Desh" and in it you get to see Eric Clapton and Ringo Starr amongst others. Also in Cavett's enclave is sitar genius Ravi Shankar and guitarist/vocalist Gary Wright who was from the English band Spooky Tooth. Both of these men played with Harrison during this legendary concert, the very first rock charity concert, and since Harrison wasn't the spotlight hog as others can be, when he was done promoting his film, he let Shankar and Wright do their thing.

Paul Simon appears next playing songs such as "American Tune", "Love Me Like A Rock" and "Bridge Over Troubled Waters". During the interview, Simon gives a little sample of what he is working on next, and for those of you who like Paul Simon, try to guess what song it later becomes.

This DVD set has some great performances, but first and foremost, this set is a collection of The Dick Cavett Show episodes. After the band or artists play their two or three songs, there is still 45 minutes of show to sit through, and if you are not a history nut, such as I, then you will definitely be happy that your DVD player can access just the music scenes.

It is a very interesting look back on American culture, and what was happening at the time, but the name Rock Icons is a little misleading. Instead of entire episodes, they could have cut a bunch of rock star segments together and really made a Rock Icons classic, but they didn't and that's too bad.

Don't get me wrong; the musicians are great. Each performance is moment in time itself, and even though the show itself has other great and enduring guests, it just takes so long to get through. Dick Cavett appears and sets up each segment; what happened, when it aired all that, but the show itself can get slow and choppy because they burned it right for the original tapings, chopping out the commercials. If you don't mind looking back into talk show history, then take a seat, cause this will be a long ride.

This is Fumo, saying...safe holidaze, babies.

John Fogerty: The Long Road Home

by Fumo Verde

In June, John Fogerty was inducted into the Songwriter's Hall of Fame. It's an honor bestowed upon such greats as Hank Williams, George Gershwin and Duke Ellington; Fogerty is just as deserving. Between 1968 and 1972, Creedence Clearwater Revival (CCR), led by John Fogerty, not only had 20 singles on the Hot 100 for over a year, but also had nine Top 10 hits in a row. CCR was, and still is, the most successful American rock quartet, earning 21 gold and platinum records and The Long Road Home will make it clear why.

Fogerty and the band are known for songs like "Proud Mary", which, when tallied, has been played over 7.5 million times on the radio and TV airwaves. "Down on the Corner" and "Up Around the Bend" have simple cord riffs and drum beats that are uplifting and fun. Others, such as "Fortunate Son" and "Who'll Stop the Rain", are political and were shaped by Fogerty's discharge from the army in '68. He hasn't touched them since originally writing them, yet those songs resonate just as strongly today as the country finds itself locked in similar circumstances of fighting an increasingly unpopular war. That shows you the staying power of a true musical artist.

This CD is filled with 25 tracks, four of which were recorded live on his 2005 tour, including a blistering version of "Fortunate Son". Most of these tracks were first recorded between '68 and '72, yet some such as "Centerfield" and "Hot Rod Heart" were recorded after the nasty divorce from his band and his record label, Fantasy Records. Also included is the infamous song "Run Through the Jungle" which brought Fogerty through the doors of our gracious court system when Fantasy sued him. They claimed the chorus for "The Old Man Down The Road" was too much like the aforementioned song. Fogerty won the case; he illustrated how the songs were different with his guitar on the witness stand. I bet nobody tried to get out of jury duty then. Both songs are present for you to judge them for yourself.

For almost a decade, Fogerty refused to sing any of his CCR stuff because of legal entanglements, but the lead voice of Swamp Rock could not be quelled for long. Soon after an emotional visit to the grave of original blues master Robert Johnson and with new owners at Fantasy Records, Fogerty decided to bring that special, southern-twanged bayou beat back to his fans. Even his recent recordings have his distinctive sound, whether it is his twanging guitar, or his gut-wrenching voice or the lyrics that are true to life. One still envisions the days of protest, free love and long hair, and hitch hiking across the USA.

If music is the soundtrack of our lives, than Mr. Fogerty is one of our best authors. He has written music that has lasted more than its normal duration, not just designated to the "oldies" channel on the FM dial. The reason for this is because Fogerty, now more than ever, is happy about being a rock artist and his songs show it, like "Travelin' Band", which he opens each concert with.

John Fogerty is a class act, a bandleader, guitarist, and vocalist; one whose songs have been covered by people like Ike and Tina Turner to punk rockers like Stiv Bators and has been used in endless Vietnam-War movies. If this CD is the best of John's past, I can't wait to hear his future. For now, I'll just have to pack a greenie, sit back and let this CD take me on the journey down that Long Road Home.

Fumo Verde--- Peace, babies.

Ray Charles: Genius & Friends

by Fumo Verde

Associate producer James Austin explains the project in the liner notes. "Back in December 2003, I received a call from Ray Charles. He was weak from the liver disease that eventually took him from us in June 2004. It would be the last time I would speak with him. He had a specific request: He wanted me to find the duets record that he recorded back in 1997 and '98. As some will know, Ray's masters were like his children. Since these tracks were never mastered or released, to Ray they seemed more like orphans. By the time I found them in the vaults, Ray was very ill and would not be able to discuss what would become of this album."

Austin along with album producer Phil Ramone, executive producers Amet Ertegun, Peter L. Funsten and Quincy Jones didn't put together a tribute album; no, not at all. The title says it all, Genius & Friends. Genius is what Ray Charles was, and this CD proves it. Ray was like a fine wine, getting better with age. His voice wasn't just soothing or soulful with deep roots set in the old blues fashion. It was also the voice of this country. Ray Charles was and still is an American icon, and since his start with Atlantic Records back in 1953, he has given the world 50 years of unbelievable memories via music that has become part of the soundtrack of our lives.

On this 14-track CD, Ray invited artists whose lives had been touched by him and his music, singers and songwriters alike, such as Gladys Knight, Mary J. Blige, Diana Ross, George Michael, and yes, Willie Nelson. Although Ray only wrote two of the songs on this disc (tracks 4 & 12), the words and the sound definitely have his touch and feel.

The first track of this CD is a tune written by Narada Michael Walden and Darin "Zone" McKinney called "All I Want To Do". Ray and R&B singer Angie Stone blend this song together like a smooth brandy and a fine Cuban cigar with its soulful groove and harmony. "You Are My Sunshine" (Jimmie Davis/Charles Mitchell) finds Chris Isaak joining Ray. Here is where Ray's big-band side comes blasting through, combined with Chris' "New Orleans" jazz this cut shows how much energy Ray still had a few years ago.

Mary J. Blige reminisces with Ray on "It All Goes By So Fast" (Ken Hirsch/Jay Levy), a soft, mellow duet that reminds us to slow down and enjoy life while we can. This whole CD has that mellow feel to it. Even "Shout" (Narada Michael Walden/Sunny Hilden), performed with Patti LaBelle and the Andrae Crouch Singers, has a mellow groove to it although its gospel roots are drawn up to that mellow groove Ray emulated through out his career.

Fumo's two favorite tracks close out the album. Willie Nelson (who also has a new CD out....I'll let ya' know about that one soon) jumps aboard with a live track from the TV special Ray Charles:50 Years in Music. An old blues song by Harlan Howard called "Busted", and babies, let me tell you that these two boys got the blues real bad, I mean REAL BAD. Like somebody kicked my dog, bad. A great song that, for all of its suffering, will give you a smile on the inside. The last song on this CD is one of the most beautiful songs in the world, especially when Ray Charles is singing it or Alicia Keys---who just happens to sing it with Ray. What more can you ask for? This song is significant because its the one Ray Charles championed to become our nation's national anthem, "America the Beautiful". If this doesn't bring a tear to your eye, then you are cold-blooded.

This CD is put together well, with a few exceptions. One thing that bummed me out was that the liner notes aren't very revealing on when these songs were written or who sung them first. Did Ray choose them or was it a collaboration we will never know? I'm not looking for a history lesson, but I am curious about how these songs came to this disc. Ray is gone, but his soul lives on in the music he has left us.

This is Fumo Verde saying....thank you, Ray, for everything.

Jerry Garcia: Garcia Plays Dylan

by Fumo Verde

As most of you can tell, I, Fumo Verde, am a Jerry freak, but what you might not know is that Bob Dylan is one of the many people, along with El Diablo, to whom I have pledged my soul, so when I got word that Garcia Plays Dylan was coming out, I immediately told El Bicho that I had to do the review. El Bicho is a good man. This is a two-CD set that has Jerry winding his voice through the tales of the legendary Dylan with accompaniments by The Jerry Garcia Band, Legion of Mary, and of course, the Grateful Dead.

Dylan's words not only transcend generations but music genres and artists alike and Jerry was no exception. This set is comprised of songs sung by Jerry and played by the bands he roamed with over between the years of 1973 to 1995, which included Legion of Mary, The Jerry Garcia Band, who appear on most of the album's selections, and obviously The Grateful Dead.

Disc One features The Garcia Band playing on five of the seven tracks. "Positively 4th Street", that anti-establishment rant of the '60s is given a new form, a hard R&B touch that brings out the pain of loss and the hope of a new start. On "Simple Twist of Fate" and “Knockin' On Heaven's Door", Jerry delivers a gut-wrenching outpouring of his soul as his voice takes you through the tales of love and impending death that Dylan first told us so many decades ago. "I Shall Be Released" and "It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry", a Garcia/Merl Saunders duet, are two tracks on Disc One that have more of a gospel air to them with the former offering more of a glimpse of hope to its story.

Disc One is dedicated to the darker side of Dylan, proven by the emotions of the stories told. On Fumo Verde's scale of "Blue-ness", this disc is deep, deep blue, and it's not just the JGB droppin' the blues on you. The Legion of Mary puts a haunting twist to "The Wicked Messenger", allowing Jerry's guitar to go off on trip of pain and sorrow.

Disc Two is split down the middle with the Garcia Band and the Dead each having four tracks, with the Dead tracks being more upbeat. While "When I Paint My Masterpiece" isn't as dark as "Knockin' on Heaven's Door", you can find yourself wandering down a dark path while your soul absorbs the blues that cry out from such a song as this, or, even a more haunting tale with "Senor (Tales of Yankee Power)" on which Dylan had brought to light the darker deeds of humanity. Both these songs have a sharp edge to them, whereas the songs played by the Dead have a lighter feel to them. "Visions of Johanna" has Jerry's kind of highway blues, not trying to match Bob's, just bringing it around in a different way, a more Deadish way as was done on "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue", which closes out Disc Two. That song recreates that way we all felt when leaving Dead shows, always wanting the jams to last forever. Jerry and the Dead weave Dylan's message in that Grateful-jam fashion, and leaving the audience wailing for more.

These songs were all recorded at live shows and are previously unreleased. The cheers and enjoyment from the audience can be felt across time and space. How I wish I could have been there, at any of these shows, but alas, this set will have to do, and it certainly does. It's a great set for a night of having friends over and just kicking back, making a few cocktails, rollin' some of your own and enjoying Garcia Plays Dylan, a classic in its own right.

And if you don't believe me that the words of Dylan are in the competent hands of Jerry, listen to what the man who inspired this collection has to say: "There's no way to measure his greatness or magnitude as a person or as a player... He really had no equal..." Bob Dylan, after Jerry Garcia's death in 1995

This is Fumo Verde........Peace.