the sticking point

Wait. It's MAY?!

I'm sorry I blew right past the April 18th relaunch date without at least poking my head in and letting you all know what was happening. I appreciate the emails and questions about what's going on. Thanks a lot for remembering me, old man that I am. Here's the deal:

I had my shit together and was ready to hit the studio for the first of the new-style posts -- the first 'Pointcast -- but suddenly found myself much busier than I'd anticipated. Calendar pages, sleep, and leisure hours have flown the coop. While nothing has eased schedule-wise just yet, there's a window of time coming up when I should be able to go in and hammer out a few of these 'casts for you. I never intended to record days or weeks in advance of posting them, but it looks like I'll have to in the beginning. (I never intended to break my promise re: the launch date either.)

I am really eager to get these things up on the site and read your comments on the podcasts and all the music I'll have inside them. It's something I am looking forward to whole-heartedly.

So, it's coming. Not too soon, not too late, but "medium." For now, The Sticking Point squats in the bush getting stronger, while I work hard and listen to lots from Dax Riggs.

One of Us Must Know (Sooner or Later)

Barring a breakdown of equipment or a call-up from the Phillies to replace their number 3 starter, I'll soft-relaunch the site with the first Sticking Point'cast on Friday, April 18.

Maybe sooner.

But probably not sooner.

Thanks for hanging in there.

[posted with ecto]

On iTunes right now: 50 Year Old Man from the album Imperial Wax Solvent by The Fall

Reconstruction Site

The Sticking Point is slowly creeping back to life. In the next several weeks (I'll try to post a relaunch date as soon as I can), the site will return with a new design and a new function. Those of you who liked the Friday 10 concept will, I hope, like what will be happening here.

In short, each Friday post will feature the ten-song writeups you're already familiar with, plus a podcast/internet radio broadcast I'll host featuring the week's 10 songs. (I'll supply a link to USendIt, where you can download these Sticking Pointcasts for free.) Sure it will be a lot of music-nerd/fanboy stuff and the occasional rant against human weakness, but for tolerating that (and the grating sound of mi voz) you'll be rewarded with some of the best songs in the history of recorded sound. No lie.

The format won't be entirely random tracks, like the F10s were; instead, I'll choose four or five songs that I just have to share -- the stuff you've got to hear, and another four or five will be tracks my iTunes spun randomly. If that sounds good, then cool. I hope this works. There's a terabyte-worth of amazing music I've heard since the last time I wrote TSP, and I can't wait to get it in your ears.

And another thing: Thanks to all the diehards who continued to visit this URL and emailed to ask if and when it might pick up again.

[posted with ecto]

Cease To Resist, Giving My Goodbye

[posted with ecto]

On iTunes right now: The Have Nots from the album Unclogged by X

Friday Test

[posted with ecto]

On iTunes right now: I'm Not Satisfied from the album Cerebral Caustic by Fall, The

School Tase

We've all seen video of 21-year old Andrew Meyer getting Tasered by campus police at a John Kerry event in Florida this week. Everyone's got an opinion on this one, obviously. To be fair, Meyer cut the line then refused to get off the mic. He's possessed of a damn annoying voice and comes off more cheeky than serious. Really, he seems the kind of irritating asscock we all avoided in college. He did have a legitimate question, though, even if it was delivered in a manner more reminiscent of Gus, the unhinged vagrant living under the FDR Drive.

Then the police on that campus did what panicked, angry, poorly trained cops do all the time: they violently overreacted.

(Does anyone else find it ironic that he demanded to know why Kerry didn't stand up and question the results of the 2004 election, only to painfully learn what happens when you stand up and ask uncomfortable questions?)

As I watch the video, which is on YouTube in a variety of angles and running lengths, the most appalling thing of all is the audience of college students which does nothing to stop the cops or help Meyer in any way. In all the versions I’ve seen, I've heard only one voice of dissent: that of an off-camera woman asking, “Hey, what did he do?” A few audience members actually laugh at what they’re watching and, of course, there's the obligatory handful of ignorant fuckmonkeys who get out of their seats to get a better shot on their camera phones.

This is unbelievable to me. What was wrong with those kids down there? Have they been so brainwashed, so mind-fucked by the slow erosion of their rights in the last six years that they’ve got no sense when they’re being abused? Probably.

College students are pathetic. Apathetic. They're feeding like suckbirds on cynicism's bloated carcass. What does it take for a little righteous indignation to stir their Myspace-deadened hearts into action? Maybe their wireless connectivity needs to be embargoed first. Tom Hayden was quoted somewhere saying that if this had happened in his SDS days, it would have sparked an all-out riot. My own college days weren’t nearly as incendiary as his, but I sincerely believe -- even in the Reagan 80s -- there'd have been an angry scrum in my lecture hall if a fellow student took 300kV to the central nervous system just for being an outspoken douchebag.

Stupid fucking kids. I saw that the next day they held a “protest” on campus. Ah, good... lip service. Protests are so fucking easy. You can yell a little, stand around a lot, and then shoot a lot of video of each other yelling and standing around. Protests even fit conveniently into your already frantic collegiate schedule. You can fit one in between cramming for the Sociology exam and updating your blog. You might even leave early to beat the lines for custom Wiimote faceplates. Protesting is easy. Getting off your ass to intercede is hard. It requires getting… off… your… ass.

[posted with ecto]

On iTunes right now: Shake a Leg from the album Back In Black by AC/DC

The Grid

I did this a while back, thought I'd give it another whirl...

Stuff I'm not supposed to like, but do...
The Sounds, uncomfortable shoes, Staples (and all stationery stores), Grey Goose & Red Bull, "It's Goin' Down" (), Countdown's substitute anchors Alison Stewart and Amy Robach, Major League Baseball's wild card system, kale, HotChicksWithDouchebags, the bus to Barnstable, the whole idea of Corey Feldman

Stuff I'm supposed to like, and do...
Yukio Mishima, Countdown with Keith Olbermann, Gore Vidal, Soupman's turkey chili, Flight of the Conchords, Van Halen's next tour, my 3-year-old climbing into our bed at 3AM, Mary-Louise Parker

Stuff I'm not supposed to like, and don't...
Televised talent competitions, Bob Murray, Dora the Explorer, U.S. military stop-loss policy, flip-flops, Perez Hilton, "the surge," evil clowns

Stuff I'm supposed to like, but don't...
Paste magazine, Talking Heads, high-waisted jeans (and the women who wear them), telephone conversations, The Corrections, sports talk radio, punctuation, iPhone, concerts at Roseland Ballroom, Ethan Hawke, selectively bred hybrid dogs, myspace, Big Love

Stuff I like the idea of, but don't really like...
Yoga, picnics, Dennis Kucinich, Barack Obama, Colbert Report, Jay-Z, "massage" parlors, You Tube Presidential Debates

.
Here's this week's Friday 10. Made from the best stuff I like.

01 Tomorrow Belongs To Us - Discharge: All the early Discharge singles are perfection. I was a big fan of theirs in the early 80s, then forgot all about them for a long time, until last year when I started putting the vinyl on CDR and gathering up the CD comps. It's great stuff. This track is on the "Decontrol" EP and the Why comp.

02 You Got Too Many Boyfriends - The Equals: I'm ashamed to say that until a few months ago, all I knew about the Equals was: Eddy Grant was in the group, and they were responsible for "Police On My Back." Then my pal SO'C shared the Viva Equals! comp with me and set my head right in regard to this great, great band. I am a fan now, only three decades after the Equals stopped recording. Song after song after song, Viva delivers. I can't believe that "You Got Too Many Boyfriends" was a B-side.

03 Stretcher Case Baby - The Damned: Another great B-side ("Sick of Being Sick" is the A). It was on their second album, Music For Pleasure. I got this version from Skip Off School To See The Damned (The Stiff Singles A's & B's) on Demon.

04 Lose My Freedom - Go Home Productions: I've written it before; I am not a fan of mash-ups. I say, if the songs are great to begin with, who needs DJ Wicki Wicki making a novelty song out of them? But I make two exceptions to the rule. I really like what Eric Kleptone did with all the Queen tracks on Night at the Hip Hopera, and I always check out the Go Home Productions site for new material. Mark Vidler (who is GHP, I guess), created this track, which combines Devo's great "Freedom of Choice" with something by Destiny's Child.

05 Anyone Else But You - The Moldy Peaches: I bet you don't know who is the Moldy Peaches' biggest fan. I'll give you one guess. Go ahead. Wrong! It's this dude Matt, with whom I once shared an office. Strange guy. Nice guy. Matt was entirely into his own thing and that was that. But oh, the memories! The room we shared was larger than most offices, and there were lots of us in there, too. Sometimes as many as six people. It was a quote-Writer's Room-unquote. Which meant that the Powers That Be threw us all in there together, hoping we'd "bounce ideas off each other" and all the ridiculous stuff people who don't write think writers do when they sit shoulder to shoulder. Anyway, Matt, for as well as any of the rest of us could get to know him, had three main interests. First, there was (were) the Moldy Peaches. Twice a week he'd ask the room, "Do you guys want to listen to the Moldy Peaches?" And one of us would invariably say, "No, because they suck." (We liked him, but sometimes treated him as if he was Donny from Big Lebowski. Because he sort of was.) The second of his life's loves was yoga. Not regular yoga. Matt was into the Bikram type, where you go and do your moves and poses in a hellish Saharan hotbox while every liquid in your system exudes from your pores. Sweat? Of course. Salts? Sure. Plus possibly blood, butter, baking grease, K-Y, Gravy Master, crotch jam, old eggnog, and other multiphasic compounds, all settling back onto the skin and into the fibers of one's clothing. Like Matt's. I knew this (we all knew it), because he'd abstain from a post-Bikram shower in order to get back to our writer's room. He'd stride in, his body shining, with a towel hung rakishly from his neck and a hot breeze of moldy ass trailing his steps. By late afternoon, our shared workspace smelled like someone had shit out a book on how to throw up.
The third thing that seemed to make Matt happy was eating smelly lunches. Which he indulged in as soon as he got back from yoga.
But anyway, now there's an actual Moldies song I like. It's this one, from the Murderball soundtrack. Cheers, Matt.

06 Sonny's Burning - The Birthday Party: My favorite Birthday Party song. I can say, without fear of hyperbole, that the first six syllables of this track comprise the best opening lyric in the history of music, in this or any other universe. If you read this site regularly, you're familiar with the Birthday Party -- ancestors of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. I come back to their music often, and I usually hear things differently each time. I have to guess that bands like Jesus and Mary Chain and Dino Jr probably bumped into their share of BP records during their formative years. "Sonny's Burning" is from the Mutiny EP.

07 Hiromi - Squatweiler: If you've never heard this song, I hope it blows you away when you hear it. This is a great, great North Carolina band that deserves a lot more attention. I hope you track down every last morsel they've ever recorded. Maybe you'll start with New Motherstamper, which contains "Hiromi." Motherstamper is the band's third record, but their first after bassist Stacey Matarrese took over the vocals. Throttled the vocals.

08 Give Up The Funk - Parliament: It was just this past Tuesday when Burning Dervish told us "Give Up The Funk" would be his entrance music as he stepped into the batter's box at Yankee Stadium. And here it is on the very next F10.
How cool it was to grow up hearing Parliament, Stevie Wonder, Earth Wind & Fire, and Rufus on the radio all the time. I didn't realize how blessed I was. "Give Up The Funk" aka "Tear the Roof Off The Sucker" is from the classic Mothership Connection record. The Parliament/Funkadelic collective released 19 or 20 albums -- high-quality albums -- between 1970 and 1981. Think about that for a second. You think Ryan Adams is prolific? You think Steven Tyler did a lot of coke? In the 70s, George Clinton could fuel a 747 with a cup of his urine.

09 What Makes You Happy (L) - Liz Phair: I burned this off television program I'd recorded called Sessions at West 54th Street. I've forgotten most of the details about the series, but I copped some good performances from the show onto CDR. I have Phair, Sinéad O'Connor, Ben Folds Five, Beck, and a couple others. I like this song a lot. The version on whitechocolatespaceegg is one of my favorites of hers. It's got the great lines "I feel the sun on my neck / I smell the earth in my skin / I see the sky above me like a full recovery."

10 King's Lead Hat - Eno: The title is an anagram for "Talking Heads." The story that gets passed down through generations of Eno fans and scholars is that he hoped to record it with DByrne and the rest, but it never came to be. Soon after this album, Before and After Science, was released, the Man Himself collaborated with Talking Heads on a few albums. I don't know all of them, but the one TH album I actually like is among them. Getting back to Eno -- the Man Himself -- for a second, I think his reputation as an experimentalist might turn some people away. I'm sure plenty of folks hear "art rock" or "ambient music" and think, "Fuck that! Where are my Stooges records?!" Luckily, TMH's recorded output is as varied as the day is long, the summer is hot, and Dick Cheney is evil. There's plenty in his rewarding canon for everybody; dig in! October is just around the corner, and for me that means lots of Here Come The Warm Jets. His music is good for anytime, but there's something carried on a crisp fall breeze that tells me it's time listen to more Eno. (I have "October music;" I'll explain another time.)

.
Tag, you're it. Set your mp3 player, digital jukebox, or Roomba to "shuffle all songs." Hear 10 songs randomly selected for you by the machine. Share them with us in the comments section below.

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Hear it for yourself. CLINK THIS LINK to download this week's Sticking Point Friday 10.

[posted with ecto]

Tuesday Dispatch

I've been enjoying Human Weapon on History Channel. Of the two hosts, I prefer Bill Duff (the ex-football player / bodyguard / wrestler / stunt double) over the mixed martial arts champion Jason Chambers, who seems a bit arrogant and cocky around the masters with whom they are training. Chambers also tries to sneak in mentions of his fighting résumé too often, so he comes off like a tool. But beyond those minor annoyances, it's a cool show that combines geo-historical documentary with martial discipline and the infliction of pain. And that's all I ever ask of my entertainment.

-- -- -- --

Speaking of combining things that entertain me, a couple of the newest Yankees have chosen good songs for their at-bat "entrance" music. Shelly Duncan's got the White Stripes' "Icky Thump," and Wilson Betemit steps to the batter's box to "Better Man" by Pearl Jam. (That one's pretty funny, especially if he thinks it sounds like "Can't find a Bete-mit.") There's a pretty solid list of MLBers' theme songs here.

I would probably change my song every other day, but I can't find anything better than the Blood Brothers' "Set Fire to the Face on Fire." That... is... the... fucking... best. (Unfortunately, the "Listen" features at Amazon and the iTunes Store don't play the song from its incredible starting point. Download it for free -- my gift to you -- here.)

So here's a question... You've knocked the donut off the bat, tossed the pine tar onto the circle, and you're heading to the plate. What song is on the stadium P.A.?

[posted with ecto]

On iTunes right now: I Got Rhythm from the album Embassy Auditorium, 4-22-46 by Parker, Charlie

Thursday Dispatch

Rented a car today to drive to our car and remove the license plates and all our personal belongings. The whole process took about two hours and it sucked.

It was weird to see the vehicle, with no obvious damage visible to the eye, and think that it could be "totaled." But that's the fact. The water got in pretty high. (If anyone had been sitting in it, the water would have reached the bottom of the kneecap.) It ruined a lot of the electronics, wiring, and crept through the transmission line into the car's mechanical nethers. The insurance adjuster put a big sticker on the rear side window, that was like a checklist of what was "good" and what was "damaged." Looking at it, I could sense used parts dealers or junkyard owners squatting in the bush, waiting to pounce. Waiting to pull it apart like carrion. Each tire was listed individually. The "good" box was checked for each. There were about 20 items on this list, and the score was fairly even between good and bad. However, the radio/cd player was marked "damaged," which I know to be incorrect.

Anyway, it was saddening to walk away from that car. We drove it off the lot on 11-20-05, and the rain killed it on 8-8-07.

* * * * * *

I have been working out hard and quite efficiently in the last month-plus. I devised a new periodization cycle for myself and I've stuck to it with religious dedication. It's based on ten days of workouts and four days of rest every 14 days. That's the length of the cycle. I keep my max-effort, overload days heavy; but more importantly, I keep the weights low on dynamic effort (speed) days.

It's still powerlifting training, so my focus is on the big three: squat, deadlift, and bench press. Anything I do outside of these exercises is done for the sole purpose of improving my technique and increasing my strength for those three. I do a lot of grip work (DL), abs (all 3), neck (S, DL), and hips (S, DL) solely for their benefits for squatting, deadlifting, and benching. That's all I care about. Not cuts or muscle size or any of that crap. I don't do biceps, or any other vanity exercise. All I care about is strength. Moving heavy weight.

Today was heavy squat day. My favorite. (Until recently, my fave was heavy DL day. But that's been getting crazy-nauseating.) I went to the gym with nothing in me, I thought. I'd had a disappointing workout yesterday -- even though I felt good walking in -- so I didn't expect much today. I did well. After a few warmup sets, I kept raising the weight and doing singles. I felt good. I had a good spotter. I kept increasing the weight. I didn't use wraps, but for the last two sets I wore the belt.

I managed a new personal best in the squat. Within two weeks, I believe I can finally break the 400# mark for sets. I've been training toward that magic number for a couple years, but something (illness, injury, work schedule, travel) always seems to get in the way of the training and set me back. I've never been this close.

One very weird thing happened during this session today. Four or five people stopped their workouts and came over to watch. After my final set one young man approached me and, even though he'd just watched me double-rep it -- with his own eyes, asked, "Did you lift that?" I sat on the floor for a couple minutes talking to him and his friend. They tried to lift it up off the pins together and giggled their asses off when it didn't budge. I asked if they did squats and said it is one of the best exercises anyone could do for themselves. In broken English, he asked, "Why do you do it? Can't you break a muscle?"

Awesome.

Tomorrow is the hardest workout of all. I'll run, do hundreds of crunches, do neck work, and work with my flex bands and Blast straps. I will not pick up any weight, that's what makes it so hard. But that's psychological, an ego thing I have to get over.

[posted with ecto]

On iTunes right now: Kamera from the album Yankee Hotel Foxtrot by Wilco

Liquid Launch

Yesterday, a friend told me he was spit on while sitting in a cab with his girlfriend last week. Their driver had just pissed off a guy trying to cross the street on a DON'T WALK, so the guy crossing fired a lung-nugget at the vehicle. Unfortunately for my friend, poor aim and a slight westerly breeze brought the phlegm through the open rear window and onto his chest. He told me it had heft to it, he felt it.

As the taxi drove off, he did what any of us would do; he sat there stunned and silently listing all of the violent, self-righteous ways he could respond to this attack. He so badly wanted to get out and run back to the guy for a confrontation. Of course I knew the feeling. It's that part of your brain which demands that wrongs be righted, and even for a second, the a-holes of the world contemplate their stupidity. When they see the crazed dude running at them, we want to see the look of terror and "Oh, shit. What did I just do?"

Never happens, though, does it? Forget about that. It's all another reason to stay in the car and suck up the rage into something more productive.

My friend didn't get out of the car, and I'm happy for that.*

His story got me thinking of the times in my life that I've been spat upon, and how I responded.
1) Age 7. At Tibbetts Pool in Yonkers, NY. My mom, my friend Suzanne, and me were on a blanket against a wall. Spit landed on my head and neck. A cheer and teenage laughter erupted from the top of the wall above.
Response: I ran into the pool and scrubbed and scrubbed. When I was back at the blanket, after I'd ranted so hard tears came from my eyes, and after the rage-tears dried off, Suzanne deadpanned, "I knew they were gonna do that." Might have told me!
2) Age 10. On Altamont Place in Yonkers, NY. I was playing punchball or kickball with my neighborhood friends, Jimmy, Chris, Debbie, Brian, and Sal. Joey LaValle rode over on his bike. Joey was my best friend in grade school, but now that we went to different middle schools we were like strangers. He kept riding his bike through our ballgame. I ran at him as he figure-eighted between third base and home plate. His spit hit me in the cheek and eye. Joey rode off.
Response: I lamely wiped off the mess with a tissue I had to borrow from my crush, 17-year old Valerie.
3) Age 19. At Nathan's arcade in Yonkers, NY. JCC and I were there to feed not our hunger, but our addiction to 720. Some guys were playing it when we got there. I don't know if anything was said between us and them, but I doubt it. Me and JCC parked ourselves at a nearby pinball machine to wait. Three or four guys approached. One of them took a long sip from his cup and straw and spat a mouthful of fruit punch onto my shirt. The crew walked out the arcade door.
Response: I wasted at least 20 seconds trying to answer who and why. JCC and I ran out after them. (Through the restaurant door -- we'd seen too many ambushes start this way.) We did recon on the entire parking lot, inside and between every car. They were gone.

Yonkers is a real shithole, isn't it?

*Which reminds me of something I wanted to tell you all: remember last week's Friday 10 preamble/tirade, titled "Big Knowledge, Part One"? I've got the second installment percolating in my brain, and it will probably kick off this week's F10.

.

When It Rains, It Sucks Dept.: Our car, flooded out in the Great 60-Minute Storm of 8-8-07, was declared a "total" today by the insurance adjuster. I'm bummed. A car's a car to me, but I bought that car with my wife; it's the one I drove my family, my sons around in. I am too sentimental, too nostalgic for my own good.

[posted with ecto]

On iTunes right now: Dizzy Boogie from the album Vout For Voutoreenees by Gaillard, Slim

Photo/art credit: "Spit #2" Liz Magic Laser; lizmagiclaser.com