Old friends

I have known The Ataris for a long time. Since 2001, I think. Back in the day I was just a big fan of their music as a 16-year-old pop punkster, then started doing some minor web work for them, and have now known Kris (their sole constituent member) for something like seven or eight years.

I absolutely never would have gone if they hadn't gotten me in for free, but yesterday I caught the new incarnation of the band at the Vans Warped Tour stop in Ventura, and saw Bad Religion's set, as well. Most of the bands that play Warped nowadays are pretty asinine, but luckily I managed to avoid most of that.

Anyway, here's a video of The Ataris from their heyday, performing their cover of Don Henley's "The Boys of Summer" on the short-lived primetime music showcase Pepsi Smash. Try and pick me out in the front row!

We (were) here to save the world...

For obvious reasons...

For those who don't remember (and I am barely old enough, myself) this is Captain EO, a 3-D short film directed by Francis Ford Coppola, and produced by George Lucas, specifically for Disney. At the time, it was the most expensive film (per minute) ever, and was played daily for years at a theater where (I think) the Buzz Lightyear ride is located today at Disneyland.





RIP

Trent Reznor digs Grizzly Bear... WTF?

Interesting interview in Newsweek with longtime Nine Inch Nails frontman Trent Reznor. Formerly known as the most aloof man in music, Reznor has recently reinvented himself over the interweb via his personal communication back and forth with fans.

However, liking Grizzly Bear? This was probably more unlikely. As great as both bands are, their styles could not be more different. Nonetheless, it's probably never a good idea to point out the oddness of someone simply being eclectic.

Anyway, though I initially passed it off (and still don't think it's as good as 2006's flat-brilliant effort Yellow House) I'm starting to come around on their new disc, Veckatimest. It's pretty rad (read: aesthetically gorgeous).

Gotta love the harmonies

Here is Devendra Banhart performing "At the Hop" with his band at the (2007?) Vegoose Festival in Las Vegas.



Very different version of the song from his album, Ninjo Rojo, but absolutely beautiful with the added backing harmonies. I've sort of been over the New Weird American scene for a long time, but I have to say that when I saw Devendra live in September 2007 at the Rio Theater in Santa Cruz, it turned out to be one of the best shows I've ever caught.

Brian Fuentes: A Shrewd Acquisition

It is impossible to replace someone like Francisco Rodriguez. That needs to be said before I go any further. There is nothing quite like seeing home grown players succeed, and one of the reasons the 2002 Championship was so satisfying for Angels fans was because the team was composed entirely of lifelong Angels and journeymen fillers.

That being said, General Manager Tony Reagins’ acquisition of Brian Fuentes, and the closer’s subsequent performance holding together an otherwise collapsing bullpen, have gone wholly underappreciated.

The Angels had been connected to Fuentes at two prior trading deadlines before ultimately signing him as a free agent for (more or less) 2 years and $18 million dollars, so it was no secret the team has been interested in his abilities for a while. However, the general consensus has seemed to be that Fuentes, though an established closer, is a distinct downgrade from Rodriguez, despite the savings over K-Rod’s 3 year $37 million contract with the Mets.

Although, to reiterate, Rodriguez can never be fully replaced in Anaheim, it is a false assumption (which I, too, made) that Fuentes is not in his same, elite, class of reliever. In fact, as both became full time closers in 2005, their number since are extraordinarily similar:

Rodriguez:
Converted 194 of 216 save opportunities (89%)
Struck out 356 batters in 276 IP (1.28 K/IP)
Allowed 201 hits (.195 opponents' batting average)
Walked 128 batters (WHIP of 1.19)

Fuentes:
Converted 111 of 131 save opportunities (84%)
Struck out 302 batters in 263.2 IP (1.14 K/IP)
Allowed 202 hits (.203 opponents' batting average)
Walked 105 batters (WHIP of 1.16)

I was astonished to discover how close their stats are. Though Rodriguez is probably the more consistent of the two (as Fuentes lost his closer job for a period in 2007) and has more saves overall -- Rodriguez played for generally better teams, and thus received more save opportunities -- their peripheral numbers are virtually identical, despite the fact that their pitching styles could not be more different.

As for this season, thus far, Rodriguez has been nearly untouchable for the Mets. However, this improvement was not completely unforeseen, as he has moved to the inferior offensive league, and Citi Field has proven to be the polar opposite of the wind tunnel known as New Yankee Stadium. Fuentes, despite finally escaping Coors Field, struggled initially for the Angels, but has since lowered his era over three and a half runs since May 1, and in terms of the essence of the closer’s duty has 19 conversions in 22 save opportunities -- granted with some help from Torri Hunter. Rodriguez, by comparison, is 19 for 21.

So while, admittedly, it was difficult to see Frankie depart given how many great moments he enjoyed in Angels red, in terms of plain wins and losses and dollars and cents, Tony Reagins should be absolutely lauded for allowing Rodriguez to depart, acquiring Fuentes, and saving three to four million dollars in the process. The Angels, despite beliefs to the contrary, are not the Red Sox, Yankees, or Mets, and while Arte Moreno has shown a willingness to increase payroll for the right player, these sorts of shrewd personnel moves are integral for a team which -- gasp! -- actually has a finite operating budget.

Fuentes may not be the most orthodox closer in the game, but he is one of the most effective. His contributions holding the Angels bullpen (barely) together, and Reagins’ acquisition of him, need to be recognized more than they have been.

Kurt Cobain used to wear this band's shirts

One additional update today, as I want to celebrate finally seeing this band last Saturday at the Detroit Bar in Costa Mesa.

Dinosaur Jr. performing "Crumble" (my favorite track off their last album, Beyond) at the Norwegian Wood Festival in June of last year:

Ra Ra Riot in an attic

"Ra Ra Riot perform "Oh, La" live in an attic in their hometown of Syracuse, NY. Directed by Taryn Gould and Emily Kowalcyzk. " -their label



And just for the record, I am completely in love with this band's cellist.

A new direction for this 'thing'?

Howdy,

So I have recently stumbled across a couple writing opportunities, namely Angelswin.com, for whom I will be writing a regular bi-weekly column starting in the coming days.

This is significant insofar as -- as long as I sign my pieces with this web address -- I may have a built-in audience for a blog that was originally planned to be nothing more than an effective portfolio to direct potential employers to.

So, while the content I post here may (read: will) be too unfocused to garner any real attention, I am going to make a much greater effort to post on a daily basis, with extra content to fill in when I don't feel like composing my 1,200 word rants.

That being said, the new content here will likely be along the lines of most popular indie music blogs (despite the fact that I write slightly more about sports): Youtube videos that I find interesting and brief links to other people's articles.

Like most of these blogs, I feel this is a copout, as linking to random viral content is pretty inane. However, I also feel this is a reasonable way to make it look as if I'm putting in much more effort here than I actually am.

Either way, hopefully you'll enjoy... if you're actually reading.

Cheers,
Zach

Why I'm Tired of Hearing About the Lakers

Boy am I glad the NBA playoffs are over.

Besides the fact that basketball referees have far too much control over the outcome of games (a fact to which I’m positive Antoine Wright will attest) and, thus, just about every contest during the playoffs ends up in some sort of officiating controversy (which is off-putting enough), this year’s Championship carried a double annoyance: the Lakers had heavy expectations upon them.

Last year, when I lived in the Bay Area, I didn’t mind the Lakers much. I only had one friend up there who was a fan, and given his general embodiment of all that I have come to find so frustrating about Lakers fans (he actually believed Kobe Bryant jumped over a speeding car), it was completely worth hearing him run his mouth for months when I got to see his spirit crushed in the Finals by the Celtics, firsthand. However, now that I find myself living in LA again, it’s impossible to escape the ubiquity of the Purple and Gold.

So why am I so glad to be done with it all? Why am I tired of the Los Angeles Lakers? Well, it’s a three pronged attack; I don’t inherently hate the Lakers, I just hate their fans, the media that covers them, and I don’t find their players or management particularly likeable. This is unfortunate, as I realize that, in witnessing Phil Jackson and Kobe Bryant’s tenth and fourth titles, respectively, I am witnessing history in the making, a cliché I feel comfortable using in this instance.

Unfortunately, I just couldn’t bring myself to root for this bunch, and admittedly would have loved to have observed the ensuing shitstorm had the Lakers actually managed to lose to the Houston Rockets in the Conference Semifinals.

Let’s start with the fans, for whom I feel so little empathy I have thoroughly enjoyed every low they’ve put themselves through on the imaginary roller coaster they’ve made out of the Lakers’ season. With the aforementioned exception of the Houston series, there has never been any reason to doubt that the team would again represent the Western Conference in the NBA Finals. They came into the year as the defending champions, and ended up winning the West by 11 games. But despite that dominance, every one of their 17 regular season losses was a chance to question the team’s effort, or call them ‘soft’.

As if they could win them all?

I’m tired of the Lakers flags that adorn SUVs likely belonging to people who never watched a game during the regular season. I’m tired of the fact that people care enough about Laker hating to actually steal those flags off cars. Feel free to point out the hypocrisy of spending 1,200 words hating on LA, but when my lifelong favorite sports team, The Angels, won their championship in 2002, I didn’t burn down the RVs parked outside Angel Stadium.

Let’s move on to the media, who have done nothing but pander to the Chicken Little attitude that has followed the team all season. While I understand that it isn’t exactly exciting to print articles praising a team, and that reader interest in sports journalism largely relies upon controversy, this past Lakers’ season was a particularly egregious example of such an attitude. Suffice to say, I find it mystifying that the local media could so ferociously and tenaciously deconstruct a basketball team that went 65-17, by far the best mark in the conference, and only a game short of best in the league.

As recently as June 7, just a couple days after the Lakers throttled the Orlando Magic 100-75, LA Times columnist Bill Plaschke (the blowhard of all blowhards, who I still can’t believe actually had the gall to argue against erecting the Oscar De La Hoya statue outside of Staples Center) was still questioning the team's effort and attitude, despite the fact they were coming off a resilient series victory in the Conference Finals over the Denver Nuggets, and had truly dominated the Magic in game one of the Finals. While, again, I realize that it is impossible to completely silence the critics (except when critics have the advantage of hindsight), I still find it hard to believe that any team in any sport that has performed so well has been criticized so frequently.

All that being said, I will admit the Lakers are an easy bunch to take shots at. When your team has an icon like Jack Nicholson perpetually sitting courtside (and who behaves as if he believes himself to be a fourth bench coach) it evokes ridicule. That ridicule may be borne out of jealousy, but that seems like a perfectly valid excuse to poke fun, in and of itself. But really, have you ever been to the Staples Center? The building’s concourses more resemble upscale cocktail bars than a sports venue.

Moving on to something more tangible, for all the greatness that Phil Jackson has exhibited over his career, he will never be beloved the way that Red Auerbach or John Wooden are. This is partially a symptom of his very philosophy, as his stoic attitude has never served an image as an ‘Uncle Phil’ persona. It is also a valid criticism that he has been somewhat opportunistic, inheriting great casts in both of his coaching gigs.

However, it also completely true that Phil Jackson is the greatest coach in NBA history. In a game that, in this day and age, is so much more about managing players’ egos than x’s and o’s, sustained success is so much more rare, which makes the fact that Jackson has broken Auerbach’s record of 9 Championships as a coach all the more impressive. Successfully managing Kobe and Shaq, and Dennis Rodman and, well, anyone he played with, is an impressive feat. This is why it’s a shame that Jackson is not more likable.

The exact same thing can be said for Kobe Bryant. Let’s not dismiss the fact that he may or may not have raped a girl (and at the very least, very publicly cheated on his wife), as this incident -- despite the fact that Lakers fans will decry this opinion -- has forever tainted his image in the court of public opinion. Moreover, he does share culpability with Shaquille O’Neal for breaking up one of the greatest duos in the history of the sport, and after doing that shares a much larger part of the blame for originally running Phil Jackson out of town.

However, what bothers me the most about Kobe Bryant and his legacy, however great, are its comparisons to Michael Jordan’s. This, going back, is probably the fault of the media, but it is astounding how many articles have been written comparing the two and their careers. Despite how many championships Bryant wins, this is absurd. Everyone knows this is absurd. When all is said and done, I am confident Bryant will not have anywhere near five MVP awards or ten scoring titles. Kobe’s career may be great, but Jordan’s will have been greater.

I will grant that there are some good stories surrounding the team. If you know anything about Derek Fisher's family's plight, then you have every reason to root for him. But ultimately, everyone outside LA knows that the Lakers serve the same purpose in the NBA that the Yankees or Cowboys do in their respective leagues: people love to see these teams fail. Despite the fact that I follow the Lakers far more closely than any other basketball team, count me in as one of those who love to hate on LA. The team’s early century three-peat -- featuring great rivalries with the Spurs and Kings and the rare combined greatness of O’Neal and Bryant -- were easier teams to root for.

This year, however, I’m just glad it’s all over.

Quantum Physics and Indie Rock: The Parallel Worlds of Mark Oliver Everett

Back in April of ’08 I saw Eels perform at the Palace of Fine Arts Theater in San Francisco. The start time of 8 seemed too early to get there, but as there was no opening act listed I wasn’t quite sure what to do. So I decided to show up fairly early (for me), around 8:30, to make sure I didn’t miss anything if Eels decided to play an early set. As I entered the lobby I heard something inside that surely wasn’t music, and after wandering into the seating bowl and taking my chair it became apparent that a night at the movies was substituting for an opening band. But whatever was on the screen seemed more like an educational video for a junior college physics class than something that should be playing at a rock concert.

As it turns out, I was partially right. What I watched for the next hour or so was actually a BBC documentary (later aired as a NOVA program on PBS in the US) on one Hugh Everett, the father of Eels’ sole constituent member Mark Oliver Everett, AKA Mr. E. Turns out both father and son shared similar problems with esotericism; Mark in the world of music, and Hugh in the world of physics. The documentary, aptly titled Parallel Worlds, Parallel Lives, is a search, led by Mark, to discover the contributions his father made to quantum physics -- the introduction of the parallel universe theory -- as well as to learn things about, and find a connection with his father he never knew they shared. Asked how it must have felt for Hugh to come up with such a revolutionary theory and have his peers, the academic community, effectively sigh, E replies “Happens every time I put an album out.”

The focus of the documentary is largely to highlight the latent rising interest in Hugh and his work, and it’s not hard to draw similarities between that sort of under-appreciation and, well, most any indie rock band, but for anyone familiar with E’s back story, this sort of revelation has a particular pertinence. One of the common complaints about Eels is that their music isn’t exactly cheery, drawing from very personal and very tragic details of Mark’s life -- for those who don’t know, in brief: a reclusive father who died at the age of 51, a schizophrenic sister who committed suicide, and a mother who died of cancer -- but while overwrought calamity might be done to death in indie rock, if anyone has the resume to pull it off it would certainly be E.

So while Parallel Worlds is mostly about Hugh and his work, it also focuses heavily on the undertones of a son not just posthumously coming to terms with his father, but in many ways meeting the man for the first time. This is what makes the documentary worth watching, and what makes it particularly apt for Eels fans: in many ways Mark’s search for and finding of his father, along with Eels’ last album, Blinking Lights and Revelations, signify an end of an era for the band. For all the work E has done protecting his shtick, framing a picture of himself as the out-of-place “Railroad Man” who feels alienated from this time and in his own skin, it’s hard to keep that up once you’ve supposedly found some form of inner peace. Therefore, the fact that Eels’ new album, Hombre Lobo (12 Songs of Desire), evidences a newfound confidence and attitude is its most satisfying quality.

The album is very much what it advertises itself to be: 12 songs about wanting someone you haven’t got. And though it may seem paradoxical to talk about evoking confidence and forlorn love simultaneously, somehow, awkwardly enough, it all stumbles towards working. But perhaps that is the album’s major fault, that E’s songwriting hasn’t quite caught up to his new self image. While Eels’ lyrics have never been particularly poetic -- at times verging on uncomfortably straightforward -- doozies like “But now I found you and I know that we would be / So very happy if you could only see / That I was made for you, and you were made for me,” are all too prevalent on this record. Nonetheless, other tracks, such as opener “Prizefighter” do hint at renewed ego; though these may be songs about not getting the girl, at least here E sounds like he believes he deserves the girl.

However, in many ways the record is still vintage Eels, full of lo-fi blues riffs, clean-tone electric guitars backed by strings, and E’s signature croaking voice. In fact, it’s all too easy to draw stark similarities between songs from Hombre Lobo and others from just one album ago. Compare the following: “The Longing” = “The Suicide Life”, “Lilac Breeze” = “Hey Man (Now You’re Really Living)”, and “Lilac Breeze” = “Going Fetal”. While E has always carried a distinct sound that he has more or less ridden throughout, now, seven studio albums and a couple ‘solo’ releases, if you caught his two-man-band live show last spring he’s proven that he’s a talented enough musician to diversify. Even if just a little bit.

There’s no denying that Mark Oliver Everett is something of a polarizing musician. You likely either find his shtick charming and unique or a classic example of hipster douchebaggery. But either way, I encourage you to watch the documentary, Parallel Worlds, Parallel Lives, if you ever manage to catch it on the outskirts of public broadcasting. Though it is admittedly a self-serving voyage, I for one found the story of a man who has had a legitimately hard life finding such a striking common ground with his father legitimately compelling, and only the most hardened cynics could deny that.

Though his new album at times trips over itself and suffers from the unfamiliarity and apprehension of beginning anew, it still harbors the same charm that has always made Mr. E such an interesting figure: the fact that he is, indeed, “no ordinary man.”

Manny Ramirez and the All Star Game: A Purely Pragmatic View

Ever since it was reported that currently suspended slugger Manny Ramirez was fourth among NL outfielders in All Star voting, it has sparked quite a debate as to what, if anything, should be done to reconcile the obvious dilemma at hand. While it appears that, according to the Major League Baseball collective bargaining agreement, unless Ramirez’ suspension had covered the calendar date of the game there is nothing the MLB heads can do to prevent him playing (if they even want to), the prospect of sending Manny to the Busch Stadium outfield on July 14 is an awkward proposition.

In the sense that the All Star Game is one of MLB’s biggest yearly shots at self promotion, allowing a drug cheat to prominently participate creates a glaring problem. However, Joe Torre, Ramirez’ manager on the Dodgers and one of the game’s great ambassadors, has taken the simple view that, with his suspension, Ramirez’ numbers won’t justify placing him among the year’s best players, and therefore the fans ought not to vote for him. Conversely, Frank McCourt, the Dodgers’ owner, espoused a more belligerent stance, ignoring the issues at hand and even having the gall to contend it would be an “honor” to have Ramirez in the game.

While I don’t expect him to throw his own player under the bus, I still think McCourt’s view is despicable and shows a complete lack of integrity. But moral or image issues are not the reason I am going to argue that Manny Ramirez should not go to the All Star Game. Despite the NFL precedent of the Merriman Rule, I don’t necessarily believe that Ramirez should be automatically disqualified from the team just because he has been suspended. Why ban him from an exhibition match if you’re going to let him play in games that actually matter for the rest of the season?

Well, the All Star Game isn’t exactly an exhibition game anymore, one of the few ideas Commissioner Bud Selig has come up with (along with the wild card) that I’ve actually come to enjoy, as it has made the game legitimately more competitive and enjoyable to watch. While this ensures that there won’t be any more John Kruk / Randy Johnson moments, such instances (though hilarious) only added to the idea that the game was just a novelty act. The tie game debacle particularly underscored this fact, and television ratings actually seem to reflect a renewed interest in the game since the institution of the home field rule. Think back over the contests since the institution of the new rule which, except for in 2004, have all been exciting, close affairs.

The reason National League fans should not vote for Manny Ramirez, therefore, are purely pragmatic and because of this renewed importance of the outcome of the game. He is eligible to return to the Dodgers on July 3, giving him 9 potential games to play in before the All Star break. When he does come back, having missed 50 games he will effectively be in spring training form in terms of timing, facing pitchers hitting a midseason peak. While Ramirez is a great hitter steroids or no, on July 14 he will still be at a distinct disadvantage in the batter’s box. In short, I believe that the National League can find players more capable of helping them win home field in the World Series.

To clarify, this is not an argument to forcibly remove Manny from the game -- if Ramirez is voted into the game by the fans then, lamentably, their vote should stand -- but rather a plea to those fans to do what is in the best interests of their team (if their team resides in the NL), the quality of the game itself, and (as a side benefit) the overall health of the sport. All the players on the NL squad whose home teams have any fair shot at a pennant deserve a legitimate chance to lift the recent AL jinx and win that all-important home field.

Would it be something of a worldwide joke if Ramirez trots out into left field on July 14? Probably. Would it be a disgrace to the sport to continue to throw accolades at him? Probably. But quite frankly, I don’t care. What baseball needs, more than anything, is to ignore everything else going on off the field and focus on all the daily greatness happening on it. Let the testing scientists do their job to expose the cheats, and let history and time sort out what the historical context of the ‘steroids era’ is.

For now, I’m focusing on baseball. And, for this All Star Game, there ought to be more prepared baseball players on the field than Manny Ramirez.