#hoping to maybe get the soundtrack for Contracts sometime in the future as well but we'll see

[spectrearia]

IT'S HERE!!!

sooo happy with it honestly. looks fantastic, sounds great. really glad that things got sorted out because whoooo boy was that a wild ride just to get this thing in my hands loll

(ordered the album here, for anyone interested btw ;o;)

[shinylitwick94]

Final thoughts on The Rings of Power season 1 while still fresh

Spoilers for the whole season and book stuff

It was worse than I hoped but better than I feared, and overall a solid 6/10 for me. Maybe it will even be a 7/10 if in the morning I’m feeling nicer.

There were things I absolutely loved but also things I hated so so much.

There’s definite potential for future seasons if they clean up some of their mistakes, but also some things that will be hard to fix overall.

The bad

The elves will fade in 3 months story. Like, I get the elves fading, being afraid and wanting to stop it. I can work with that. The mithril myth is still ridiculous but I could work with that. The only way I could justify the 3 months was if it was Sauron’s idea. Which apparently it clearly wasn’t. So, I kind of hate that part.

How long they dragged out the Sauron thing. I’m actually surprisingly fine with Halbrand being Sauron. It’s the amount of time we spent dealing with this and the fact that it sidetracked the whole season that really bothers me. I’d rather have known from the start and watched him play everyone around him. Likewise, I’d rather they got the Stranger’s storyline moving faster instead of making it drag so we could have Sauron reveal drama on the final episode.

Pacing issues. The series is all over the place in terms of pacing and rhythm. Sometimes it’s fine, but other times it’s also just plain weird and distracting.

Weird logistic choices in key action moments. Sadoc in this episode is a great example - he’s dead, but then he isn’t, but then he is again? What? Just confusing and unnecessary, and there were moments like that in other episodes too.

The uncalled for and bizarre lore-breaking. In particular the weird mithril thing, but also more importantly for this episode, the contraction with what is said in canon about Galadriel and Gil-Galad mistrusting Annatar. Also Annatar as a whole because I’m assuming he can’t be involved in the forging of the other rings as per canon like this? The Celeborn thing as a whole... Very strange and unconvincing choices. Also some good ones, mind you, but the bad ones naturally stick out more.

And the number one offender: the sheer insufferable amount of PJ movie references. The first few episodes were fine, but these last ones? They just would not stop quoting, either visually or in the script. And a reference here and there is fine but like this it’s just painful and cringey and the main thing putting me off this show.

The good

The acting is wonderful throughout, and the dwarves in particular are complete scene stealers. Wonderful job by all the actors, especially with a script that sometimes really was not helping them (Galadriel and Elrond in particular).

The worldbuilding and the visuals are amazing, colorful(!!!everyone is not wearing black and brown and the screen is not blue/grey all the time, take note other fantasy shows!!!), textured, and it just looks spectacular overall. The costumes are also out of this world and sometimes even quite clever in how they relate to the characters and their backgrounds. I think people make some very fair criticisms of this show, but ‘it doesn’t look/feel like ME’ is one I 100% disagree with. 

The soundtrack is also spectacular. Not as iconic as the PJ movies, perhaps, but that’s an impossibly high bar to clear. The Valinor theme, the one that plays in the Adar chase, the numenor theme, all of the dwarven themes, nampat, the wandering days song, so so many wonderful tracks.

For all that they make some weird lore choices, they also have some nice and clever moments of using it well, in particular in Elrond and Durin’s interactions (so much about Earendil...), and in that amazing conversation between Galadriel and Adar. The whole character of Adar, really.

Speaking of which, it turns out I actually love most of the new characters. Adar is very obviously the best of them, but I also really enjoyed the Harfoots which I expected to hate, and Arondir and Theo. Even Mr Totally-not-Sauron, who makes me want to do a rewatch with that in mind. (Seriously, once we do find out Halbrand is Sauron? He’s doing some A+ Sauron mindfuckery).

There are also specific scenes and moments which are just wonderful, and I don’t just mean the admittedly cool Mt Doom fireworks, but some of the scenes in Numenor, the dwarves overall, Galadriel and Theo, many of Arondir’s scenes even if I wasn’t too sold on the romance, the Harfoots especially early on.

There’s a lot to like here, but also a lot of work to be done.

They NEED to stop doing shout-outs to the PJ movies. I was watching with a mixed audience and the normal people didn’t get the references, and the people who did get the references were all getting extremely annoyed by them. Just STOP.

They also need to tighten up the pacing and the writing quite a bit. There’s some storylines and choices that don’t make sense, and far too much was sacrificed this season to keep us guessing about Sauron (Harfoots especially).

I have no idea where they’re going next season, and they have a lot of time to work on it, but I do hope that it improves on some of the stuff that has been iffy.

I also sincerely hope the fandom calms down a bit by the time the next season comes out, because this has been a grueling month and a half so far.

And if it doesn’t, at least we got some gorgeous visuals and the most adorable take on Elrond ever, so that’s a win for me.

[angrylizardjacket]

drowning in honey, stingless {Roger Taylor}

Summary: Giselle’s life is a series of sensations and struggles, more often than not, alone.

Disclaimer: ‘drowning in honey, stingless’ is a quote from Evelyn Waugh

A/N: 1631 words. Please do not ask me what this is I do not know, just read it and enjoy it if you please. Warning for drug use.

[And All The Queen’s Men ‘verse]

Sometimes it’s like moving through a haze, through a dream, everything melts away when she asks, everyone around dances to her heartbeat; the world waits for no man, but she is no man and it would come to a grinding halt at her insistence. Not that there hasn’t been push back, not that her reputation, her skin colour, her gender, hasn’t garnered her scorn in a day and genre popularised by pretty, white boys; her life wasn’t handed to her on a silver platter, but she still manages to act like it was. Sometimes she forgets it’s an act.

The choice comes when she’s nineteen; she deludes herself into thinking it’s not nepotism, that it’s not favoritism, that she can’t see the shadow of her father’s influence puppeteering the executives offering her a contract, the chance to make something of her future and of herself. They pry her from her last name, as if the world won’t know where she came from, whose legacy she stands in the shadow of; they monetize her isolation for themselves, build her brand around Giselle alone. It’s easy to act aloof and detached, to build herself up on her own merits, and bury the memory of who she once was.

Over the years, best friends were replaced with ‘yes’ men, doing anything to make her smile, anything to keep her singing. She got friends, of course she’s still got friends, but she knows they love the idea of her, they love her name and the fame it garners, more than they love her. People from university, people from high school, people from before all of this, all of whoever she is now, they turned fickle, or they disappeared. Except John, but things are so different now. They’re not nineteen anymore.

And perhaps sometimes when she looks at bands, looks at friends, looks at the way real people actually seem to care about each other, there’s a gnawing sensation at her heart, a loneliness she can’t quite put into words. There’s a bubble around her, and everyone else likes to pretend that she can’t see out, can only see the world as gold as they’ve tried to tint it, to keep her ignorant to the critics who are cruel for the sake of being cruel, or even those who offer genuine critique amid their criticisms of the things she cannot change. She still sees the world, it’s hate and love, in equal measure, but they want her drowning in honey, stingless, alone.

A new choice comes when she’s twenty four- reach out. It’s easier now than it was when she began; she wasn’t a pushover then and she’s not a pushover now, but it still takes work. To reach out professionally was the easy part, the shallow business transaction of ‘I want to cover your song’ being as simple as it sounds, easier still when she’s told to go direct to them, to ask without preamble.  Except she’s met with four smiles, well, three genuine smiles and whatever Roger’s doing with his face, and the salt crust on her slowly calcifying heart might just begin to crack.

The mask she puts on for the world, as shiny as diamond and twice as cold, is a familiar discomfort, an itch she’s used to, and she feels naked without it, speaking to these people like friends, like those who understand, at least in part, her position. It’s hard to let them in, but the world sharpens around her like it hasn’t in years, she still makes herself see a haze of rose gold but she feels awake like she hasn’t in a long time, touch starved like she can’t bring herself to admit out loud. John is proud, prouder than she expected him to be in the face of all she’s left behind of herself from when he knew her; around him, and only around him, she can face who she once was, admit that she misses it. Can admit that she misses it, and still smile.

Freddie’s there, filling the cracks in her heart with glitter for grout because he knows, he knows, that critics think that humanity and weakness are one in the same; he’s seen Giselle’s real smile and he’ll help her hide it if it means he’ll get to see it again.

And Roger? She knows she’s competitive, knows she’s brash and loud and far too human, and he seems determined to pull those qualities from her with both hands; he makes her feel alive, makes her feel human, and she hates him for it.

When Brian looks at her, he sees her, unbiased, unflinching, doesn’t know her like John, love her like Freddie, dismiss her like Roger. He sees her, eye to eye, as a musician first and foremost; her value lies in her work and in greatness she’s earned. Somehow he sees not who she was, not who she wants the world to see, he sees her for her work, he sees who she is. Through her golden haze of fame, the legacy she’s left behind and the one she’s still building, amid her icy veneer and the cracks of her touch starved heart, he sees Giselle Jones, twenty four, alone on the precipice of legendary; he, along with queen, agree to step up beside her.

Barely at twenty seven and she’s free falling, gathering stardust as she crashes back to Earth, to remind herself she’s human. So she puts her hopes and fears into her music, and the crowd sing along to the soundtrack of her spiralling, thinking it’s for them - it’s not, it never was, her music is hers; selfish and self indulgent, she’s at least earned that.

If she goes too far it doesn’t show in papers, in the real world, in the world outside of Bowie’s laughter, Elton’s feather’s, and oh, oh, oh whatever Roger’s doing with his mouth. She won’t remember it as anything more than a happy, hazy blur the next morning, but she feels alive right now. Since the beginning she’d been thrown in the deep end, a spectacle to watch as they make bets on whether she’ll sink of swim; she’s left EMI, moved to a new company that won’t keep her on a leash. She’s got free reign, unafraid of falling, of sinking, of crashing, so long as she can pick up the pieces before the paparazzi catch on.

They don’t. Her crystal veneer sits safely on the shelf the nights she goes hard, invites big names with bigger personalities into the safety of her home, away from the prying public. Star studded and exclusive, the dinners she hosts are just a chance to let loose amongst those who understand. She’s forgotten more life changing moments than most other people ever hope to have, concerts and faces of people she once idolised, singing her praises, bottles of champagne that could probably pay some people’s rent for a month, little white lines of powder that make the world as hazy as it sometimes feels, like syrup, like dreaming; this time drowning in honey of her own accord. Not alone this time, just lonely.

Maybe she swings too fast between nothing and everything.

Maybe they can’t keep up.

Maybe the world melts when she asks it to, and when she’d come back, when it had reformed, nothing was the same.

Maybe because she thought she was falling, thought she was crashing, though she’d reached new heights without even meaning to; the top of the world is lonely.

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

In this light, he’s golden too.

“What? I didn’t even say anything.”

He takes her hand where she’s sitting up in bed, the sheets having fallen away where she’s watching the sunset through the window, it’s like they’re the only ones left in their quiet corner of the world. When his skin touches hers, it’s startling for her to realise they’re alone, but she doesn’t actually feel lonely.

“Yeah, but I know that look.”

“What look?”

She wonders idly, that when, amongst her blur of memories for the past few years, that the person who was once the bane of her existence managed to crawl into the cracks of her not quite calcified heart.

“Of course you have a look; like you’re just coming down from a really good high but you’ve realised that something about the music isn’t right and you start spiralling.”

“I don’t remember that happening.”

A lie. She just doesn’t remember him being there. The music’s never right, the guests are too loud, the high too fleeting, but no-one else seems to realise; or maybe they can’t hear her for the haze… it’s not gold like it once was. ‘Yes’ men dropping off like flies; she doesn’t need their approval among the oceans of adoration each concert garners; the people paid to love her leave eventually.

Roger, by her side, laughs.

“You worry a lot when you’re sobering up. It’s cute.”

“I do not!���

“‘Zelle, I’ve been there, believe me.”

“It’s kind of shitty that you think my worry’s cute.”

“I think everything about you is cute.”

“You’re taking the piss.”

“Usually, yeah, but not this time.”

Pulling her back down to him, he grounds her. He doesn’t say it, but he understands, at least in part. He pushes back, but it’s a reminder than he’s there, pries apart her glitter-stained heart without meaning to, without realising. It takes time to learn to float without drowning amid the chaos of her life, but Roger seems to have one of those inflatable pool chairs, metaphorically speaking, and he helps her aboard.

Queen’s here, she makes herself remember, at the top of the world, by her side.

And Roger? He makes her feel human, and she’s pretty sure she loves him for it.

[black-arcana]

KRYPTERIA – AND THEN SHE CAME

Interview with AND THEN SHE CAME

Interview conducted Feb. 28, 2021 by Dan Locke

AND THEN SHE CAME Ji-In Cho (lead vocals), Olli Singer (guitars), Frank Stumvoll (bass guitar) und S.C. Kuschnerus (drums).

Ji-In, you are German-Korean. What is your upbringing?

JI-IN: Hello Dan, thanks for having us. My parents are both from Korea. They met in Germany where they married and started a family. I was therefore raised in a Korean manner in a German environment. You can imagine that this did not make for an easy upbringing or childhood. But it gave me the benefit of getting to know both cultures and maybe even the opportunity to combine what’s best of them.

How did you discover music?

JI-IN: I don’t remember a specific moment in my life. I remember our home as a home of music. My parents liked to sing or play guitar or piano and I remember dancing a lot to their favorite music. I am also told that I was singing all day long to songs I heard on the radio or tunes that I made up myself. So I guess that was the time where music became my inspiration.

How did you start to write music?

JI-IN: I wrote my first song when I was six years old. I always loved animals and I couldn’t understand why my father went fishing. When he came back with his haul I was very sad and refused to eat the fish. So I wrote my first song about not hurting fish.

Describe your music.

JI-IN: Well, I definitely didn’t write any more fish songs (laughs). On a more serious note, I can’t sit down and plan my songwriting ahead of time. Instead, I am more the spontaneous type who gives in to impulses, emotions, and inspirations from all around me. I try to channel those ideas, pictures, tunes, and feelings into my songwriting.

What was your first performance like?

JI-IN: If you mean my very first performance in my life, I played Maria, the mother of Jesus, in elementary school. I remember my first stage fright. After it was over I was very proud and I knew that I wanted to be on stage again.

What was the title of your first original song? Did you record it?

JI-IN: It was called “I go fishing”. And no, I did not record it back then as a young girl but today I wish I had. It would be a nice memory to share with my future grandkids.

You started off in Become One a German Boy/Girl pop band, and then you were cast onto the German reality television show “Fame Academy”. Tell me about the time on the show?

JI-IN: Right after my studies at the Cologne University for Music and Dance where I was trained as a classical musician I suddenly got tossed into the pop business. As a participant in the German television show ‚Fame Academy,’ I endured three competitive months of singing, dancing, and acting. Every week we had to prepare live acts for the elimination show that was recorded and broadcasted from a studio set every Saturday night. In the end, I won the competition together with five colleagues of mine. We formed the band Become One and went on tour for a year. This is how I received my very first recording contract with a major label. It was a very stressful and emotional time in which I learned a lot about the reality of the music business.

You have appeared with the likes of Phil Collins, Sarah Connor, B3 and Ricky Martin. Did any of these artists give you any words of wisdom about the music business?

JI-IN: There were so many things to learn and to experience during the show. The personal time with the visiting stars was too brief for any chitchat or personal talk, though. However, I did spend some time with Lionel Richie during a show event that featured all ‚Fame Academy‘ winners from many participating countries. He said to me then that we should never give up if we really feel the need to be an artist. I think about his words every once in a while and to me they still ring true.

Let’s turn our focus to And Then She Came now. Guys, describe the band’s music.

KUSCH: It’s hard-driving drums, heavy guitars and intense singing galore. It’s Rock, it’s Metal, there are quite a few alternative vibes but also some pretty catchy hooks involved, too. Lyrically we tend to steer clear of your traditional boy-meets-girl topics, but rather go for a more sociopolitical approach. Let’s say there’s not a whole lot of stand-by-your-man stuff with this band.

How does the songwriting process work between the four of you?

KUSCH: Well, everybody chimes in with different creative ideas as we are lucky to have four very imaginative musicians in this band who all write and arrange. We try not to limit ourselves and instead toy around with all our combined influences and delusions. But apart from that, there is no clear-cut recipe as to how we create our songs. In Shecameville there’s a new adventure every day (laughs).

Do you belong to any to songwriters’ organizations like the International singer-songwriter association?

FRANK: We do. All four of us are members of GEMA which basically is the German equivalent to your ASCAP.

What makes a good songwriter?

JI-IN: In my opinion, there is no strict recipe. I know there are some songwriters who have fixed methods and procedures but that approach does not work for me. I have to feel free in the creative process and do not like to be limited in any way. In the end, the only thing that matters is the outcome. I think a good songwriter is able to somehow touch the listeners with his or her music.

KUSCH: I agree in the sense that a good songwriter knows how to connect with his or her core audience first and foremost. So even though the songs may not be all that good you’re obviously still doing something right and are considered successful at your craft. Now, a great or even transcendent songwriter is able to touch people beyond any genre confines. That’s when the likelihood we deem it ‚good‘ music increases significantly. But you can’t underestimate the importance of the performance itself and also whether a given song gets a chance to be heard. If „Bohemian Rhapsody“ hadn’t been a hit, would it be a lesser song? I don’t think so. There are probably thousands of gems out there that never got a proper forum.

You used to be in the band Krypteria. Why did you change up the band?

KUSCH: In 2012, following a killer Asian tour, Ji-In was about to become a Mom so we unanimously decided to put Krypteria on hold for an indefinite time. Then one day our bass player Frank was asked to create the soundtrack for a German-American movie. But instead of taking on this task all by himself, he brought in Ji-In, Olli, and myself. The creative process took on a life of its own, and all of a sudden we found ourselves working on songs for a full-fledged Rock album. Now, even though And Then She Came started out as just a movie soundtrack project, we just had to go on. Why? Well, I guess we’re just unable to get rid of each other even after all those years, aren’t we?

How did you first establish your band back in 2004?

KUSCH: The three original guys in Krypteria first had a band together in the Nineties and despite not working together all the time we never quite lost contact. So when the idea of starting something new came up in 2004 all we needed was an outstanding vocalist. Preferably a vocalist with a knack for energetic performances while not showing any signs of lead singers’ disease. Ji-In, who we had met during a studio session a year prior to that, fit that bill just perfectly so we asked her if she was interested in jumping aboard, and fortunately, she was. Then Olli was brought into the fold in early 2010 so the four of us have been working together for more than a decade now albeit under two different names.

Krypteria’s single “Liberatio” was used as part of a charity campaign to aid the Tsunami victims in Southeast Asia. What is the musical difference between Krypteria and And Then She Came?

JI-IN: And Then She Came is much rougher and it’s more about the synergy of organic rock instruments and electronic elements. We like to think that we still have good melodies, though. That’s really important to each of us.

KUSCH: The main difference between Krypteria and And Then She Came might indeed be the edgier and less theatrical touch that is particularly evident in the arrangements and our individual performances. I guess thanks to said more organic approach we were able to again turn it up a good notch in terms of sonic intensity, depth, and the overall vibe right off the bat compared to our prior releases.

What else did you change compared to your time with Krypteria?

JI-IN: We consciously made the choice to release our albums by ourselves. Yes, it may be tough sometimes because of the extra work and responsibility this kind of independence and freedom entails. Especially for a lot of stuff that, at least on the surface, has little to do with making music. That said, it’s a tremendous opportunity to shape our future as a band as we see fit. And as Kusch likes to say, if we screw up, then at least we’ll die by our own sword.

How did you come up with the name?

JI-IN: Actually, we chose And Then She Came because we wanted people to think, to find their own interpretation as far as the meaning of the name is concerned. Just as there is never only one point of view or one universal truth, there are many possible interpretations for this name. Sometimes it’s very funny how just one headline can lead to different background stories in one’s head. Even with all the information out there you still have to come to your own conclusion. That’s why we found And Then She Came as a name very interesting. For instance, I naturally think about the name in a totally different way than some men do (winks).

Do you think that your old fans will follow your new band?

JI-IN: I really hope our fans from back then continue to find us and are happy that we are back even though it’s with a different kind of music. And I really, really hope that they like our new sounds and songs.

Tell me about your debut album?

OLLI: You could call it the beginning of our creative rollercoaster ride. It felt like all the unused creative energy was suddenly breaking through. This and the fact that ATSC actually started as a studio film score project is probably the reason for the enormous amount of different colors in our music. Now, after the release of our second album „Kaosystematic“ and being in the middle of the process of writing new material for our third album, I can clearly say that starting this journey is the best thing we have ever done so far.

How was it to work with Arch Enemy’s Alissa White-Gluz and guitarist Jen Majura of Evanescence?

KUSCH: Well, we’ve known Alissa for a number of years now, and not only is she a killer performer, but she is an amazing soul as well. See, she’s a pro’s pro. She’s a warrior, she has to be. But as a friend, she is super sweet and she doesn’t mind going that extra mile. When we asked her if she was interested in adding that signature beast mode intensity of hers to our song „Five Billion Lies“ she didn’t even blink. Now, Jen, we have known for way over ten years, and it’s always great meeting her at a festival, a show, or a music fair. She’s such a sweetheart and an awesome guitarist, and we’re so proud of her for hitting it big with Evanescence. Her guitar solo on our song „Spit It Out“ is nothing short of spectacular. It’s amazing musicianship, creative cleverness and a fistful of good-natured cheekiness all rolled into one. Beautiful!

What is your favorite video of all time you have created?

FRANK: My favorite ATSC video is our 2018 tour movie „As The Lights Go Down“ in its entirety. It brings back great memories of a fun tour.

KUSCH: Good call! Aside from that for me, it’s a close call between “As The Battle Rages On“, “Sick Of You“ and “Public Enemy #1“. That said I like the respective messages behind „Perfect As You Are“, both the video and the tour version.

OLLI: Definitely “Perfect As You Are“. Actually, we did two videos for this song. It was an extremely demanding shoot, cause I literally switched positions constantly. Between performing and directing there was no minute of rest. But it was absolutely worth it. I really enjoyed Ji-In’s playfulness in her role as ‚Korean Marylin Monroe‘. Yet the second version is my favorite. It takes the original message of the song and projects it onto the ATSC team as a family. It is still heartwarming for me to see our crew’s performance in front of the camera during the whole video. We love you guys!

What are your feelings about streaming music?

FRANK: While streaming is very convenient and fast, for us musicians there is no significant advantage in my opinion. Granted, your work is available to more potential listeners, but the net is being flooded with new digital content ever since streaming took over, so making a name for yourself is even more difficult than it used to be. Also, the artists merely receive breadcrumbs for creating the fuel these platforms run on. You simply cannot support yourself through streaming. That’s why all the bands have to make their money on the road. It’s a vicious cycle. The author and performer should get a fair share of the profits when their music is being streamed, similar to what we had in the past with mechanical releases. The only winner in this so far is the big media companies.

If you couldn’t do music what would you like to be doing?

KUSCH: Too scary! So in true Rock musician’s spirit, I’d probably choose denial and stick with something along the lines of ‚damn the torpedoes‘ or ‚the best is yet to come instead.

Digital vs. vinyl?

FRANK: That’s a good question. It depends on your preferences and maybe your age. Back in the days I really liked listening to one side of vinyl on constant repeat while closely studying the sleeve. It made me feel like I was a part of it. Digital made everything easy, you can carry the whole world of music and movies on your cell phone. But can you really develop a deeper connection to the work a musician put so much time and dedication into? Maybe that’s why vinyl has been making a steady comeback recently?

What is the mental health situation of the World?

OLLI: Over the years we met a lot of people all over the world. And with many of them, we became close friends. It is heartbreaking how they all tell the same. Egoism seems to be overtaking everywhere. And this started already long before the pandemic. There are so many challenges for us as a species in order to build a better and safer future. For us, for our children, and for our planet and its entire ecosystem. But unfortunately, people always find reasons why they themselves don’t have to act. Ultimately this egoism leads to most of our problems we as human beings have to deal with these days.

What song from the past is in your mind right now? Moreover, what does that song mean to you?

OLLI: “Where Do We Go From Here?“ from our first album. Not only because it was the first song we ever played in front of an audience. But also because it sounds like a good headline for every single day of the last year.

KUSCH: In times of turmoil it can’t hurt to put on „What a wonderful world“ or John Lennon’s „Imagine“. With so much deception, aggression, and us-against-them in the world right now a healthy dose of positivity is what we need. And even if you don’t agree with everything Lennon said or did you really must be an all-out asshole to not share the hope that someday the world actually will live as one.

Do you feel the Covid-19 virus is going to affect the music business in the future?

FRANK: No doubt about it, as it is currently killing the whole industry. All touring activities unexpectedly got frozen, and there’s no telling when we will be allowed to return to our every day’s work. Nobody knows what will happen and who will still be in business when it finally starts to return to some sort of normalcy. But there will be a very different musical landscape for all of us, I fear. More like a “new normal” similar to what transpired after the 9/11 attacks.

What have you been doing with your self-quarantine?

OLLI: Learning. A lot about myself and my very own abilities to stay strong in order to be there for my family. It has been a tough year and it still is. But love and hope keeps me going. My thoughts are with the people who lost a loved one. But in the end I am sure that we can come out stronger than we have been before. For sure that will be the case with ATSC. Somehow we are growing together even more. But I guess that is what artists are like. Make them eat shit and they deal with it in their own ways. Nonetheless it’s a tough fight for our and our families’ existence. I can already say that this is obvious when you listen to our new material.

Have you discovered or rediscovered any new hobbies?

FRANK: I’ve been running a lot lately, more than ever before actually.

OLLI: Not a new one. But I had much more time for my biggest passion besides the music. I am an outdoor guy. I even live between lakes, forests and mountains. So whenever I can, I just grab my backpack and vanish into the wilderness for a couple of days. You can’t find me at home, in a tourbus or in a studio? Try looking somewhere in the wilderness. But maybe you wanna bring a thermal imaging camera. Stealth as stealth can be!

KUSCH: For me it’s more and more long walks in nature, minus the vanishing. Also I had the chance to follow the NFL season more closely than I had been able to recently. Plus, the lockdowns we’ve had over here allowed me to work on some old gear I still had sitting around. And while this is all nice I can’t wait to go on the road, meet people and enjoy the overall experience again. I really miss it.

95% of people said that they have changed the way they watch television. This includes people who don’t have television and use their computers to do streaming of programs and movies. Which is your favorite streaming channel?

OLLI: I am a huge movie addict. So streaming platforms became a good alternative to me. Especially since I am spending a lot of time on the road. Carrying a DVD collection wherever I go wouldn’t be realistic at all. But to be honest I don’t have a favorite channel. Each one has its strengths. And yes, I have subscribed to probably every one of the known platforms (laughs).

How can bands keep their fans if they cannot play live in front of the fans and sell merch to them at the show?

KUSCH: Well, doing an interview with UnRated sure is one excellent opportunity to reconnect.

What about Holographic concerts in our living room?

KUSCH: Do we really need less incentive to get out of the house and interact with actual human beings? Or even more technology for that matter? Take Autotune or what CGI does to movies. What was created as tools to support the arts is now dominating them. For example, given the choice between 1982’s ‚The Thing‘ and what was supposed to be its prequel from 2011 I’ll pick Carpenter’s movie any day. Same with real-life concerts in actual venues with actual people on, behind, and in front of the stage.

How do you stay healthy while touring?

FRANK: Living on a tour bus and in venues for weeks at a time is obviously very different compared to being home. You need to get ready way before you go on tour and there surely are many ways to prepare.

My personal one is I run every other day. Now once a tour has started there’s always a big party happening on the bus after the shows with great loud music and you get your booze for the night. Come to think of it, maybe this is my personal way to stay not-so healthy while touring (laughs).

Is pay-to-play still a thing? Now pay-to-play also means things like playlist on the internet?

KUSCH: Well, I don’t know about the internet but in the touring business it is. That said, in Europe, it’s more that you pay your share of production, transportation or catering costs, things you actually benefit from. So it’s not like you dole out cash just to be allowed to perform in a support slot. At least we never had to.

Any new music coming up in the new year?

FRANK: Due to the situation surrounding the pandemic everything’s in limbo. But as soon as scheduling any concerts and tours make sense again, our third album will be out right away, be it this year or early in 2022. This band is never short on inspiration, after all within the first three years of our existence we’ve released two studio albums, a live album, a live DVD, and a tour movie. So naturally, we are writing all the time, exchanging ideas. If this Covid thing lingers on any longer we may end up with a total of 500 new songs. Good luck to us trying to decide which of these will make the record (laughs).

Anything you would like to say in closing?

KUSCH: Enjoy life cause it might well be the only one you have. And stay safe and sane out there cause we want our friends and fans to be healthy, so we will get to see you on tour at some point. For those of you who haven’t listened to And The She Came go and give our music a shot, you might actually dig it. And come and see us live if you can, but make sure to stick around after the show cause we’d love to get to know you better. And bring a friend or twenty (laughs).

JI-IN: Yes, we can’t wait to get out and meet you guys, and feed off your energy on stage. In the meantime take good care of yourself everybody!

[toddlazarski]

Last Suppers Vol. 4

Shepherd Express

“And I try to wash my hands,

and I try to make amends,

and I try to count my friends...”

— Neil Young

I never realized how much white existed on a kitchen wall calendar until we flipped to last month. May 2020: like an endless sea of milk, spilt, all over ripening spring and coming summer and everything between now and the distant horizons sprawling in every direction. The Target-bought spiral-bound hope of organization and forward-thinking adulting now somehow resembles a hanging talisman of the old joke about how to make God laugh: “make a plan.” There it sits, sometimes taking on the sense of a mirror, the unsmudged kind, too well-lit, the Windex-ed type necessitating looking away, the seeking of distraction. And there it remains, post-dentist visit luminous, crisp, unfettered, yawning, as we’ve quieted the ceaseless streaking of Sharpie, the scribbling and jotting and plotting, the road signs of an appropriately lived, full life, like all of us were looking up at the professor, scrunching brows, nodding knowingly, doodling something in the margins to play at attention and appropriate labor. Something to look forward to is the key to happiness, an old adage of sorts, is a wise thing a smiling, knitting grandma would say from a rocking chair, indicating you should get moving, with the plan-cementing and the aspirations of nights out and days together. For now though it is but a march of indistinguishable blocks of vivid pale, a tiny number in the upper left corner of each that means approximately nothing. 

March 11th was a date, in hindsight, that stands out. A memorial-type night where, within the half hour it took to put a toddler to bed, the country froze and sought in vain for the Ctrl+Alt+Del keys on a foreign keyboard. The NBA season was suspended. Rudy Gobert was positive. Tom Hanks had it. An impossibly incongruous confluence: Forrest Gump and a tall French shot-blocker I target in every fantasy basketball draft existing together as the collective harbinger of societal doom. It felt like being in a movie, or the first episode of Leftovers, but the part that would pass as an emotional montage, and then move on. March 13th—Friday the 13th, but not soundtracked or jump-scaring, quiet, and directed by a Fincher or Polanski or Lars Von Trier—was where an unspoken contract was entered by sentient and capable-of-critical thought Americans, a day where laying low, taking it easy, became a gesture of care, an act of society. June 13th is a wedding we’ll attend this year. An idea, an event to schedule a haircut close to, a thing to cause ponder on the state of my black suit, something to look forward to that will have too many long-unseen friends and reunion fueled by an open bar. It was a wedding we would attend this year. It’s been moved to the fall. July 20th was once a road trip start date, years ago, the commitment steer-branded on my mind, I remember, because people would ask: “what are you doing this summer?” “When are you leaving?” “When will you be in New Orleans?” Everything else of the fruitful season seemed mere preamble, fun-enough filler before an apex, day-after-day of appetizer or salad, a mere whetting of appetite. A big day was coming, anticipation followed me like cartoon character stink lines. July 4th was a date I saw Tom Petty at Summerfest; June 28th was a date I saw Tom Petty at Summerfest; June 30th was a date I saw Tom Petty at Summerfest. These were constellations, a solid reading of the charts, the blipping beacon the control tower sends up when it is stormy and time to turn off autopilot. Now our plain is mostly like the map you see where dragons are fire-breathing around the edges. I remember the dates, like jersey numbers of favorite players, of all the Fridays in whichever is the upcoming month: aims of nocturnal revelry to make all the Tuesdays and Wednesdays and nothing days pay. This year, so far, May 26th meant something, for a while, and April 24th before that. The end, the other end, of Safer at Home. Instead the political panoply that is supposed to represent us sat at home and decided we don’t need that guidance, or a plan. Public safety is less important than dollars. Our Supreme Court sided with all those guys outside all the Capitol buildings with guns.  

So maybe it’s time to get back to this, with the togetherness, the glasses clinking, hugs and unprotected mouth-open laughs at sunny beer gardens, the days you circle on the calendar and hope will have no rain, all the times where there is no greater mark of the specialness of a day than the meal. Like when my mom took me to Max & Erma’s for my 8th grade graduation. I don’t recall where the rest of the family was, but I definitely remember the tortilla soup. I’m not sure where my parents took me after high school graduation, but I remember knee-bobbing antsiness, the polite nods at congratulatory mentions of the future, because I was distracted by the prospect of going to go get very, very drunk. I remember my college graduation, where mom, somehow, before Google maps or Yelp or my Milwaukee food yammering, procured profound reservations at long-lost white table cloth gourmet Mexican southside spot El Rey Sol. Of course, I also didn’t care that much, because it was mostly a pitstop on a day well-deserving of getting very, very drunk. 

The rest of my Milwaukee occasion-eating can likewise be charted like a sprawling pinned Google map of identity-carving. La Merenda is where I told my parents my novel would be published. Palomino is where we told my mother-in-law we were having a kid, over Bloody’s and Maria’s, piping curds goo-ing with expectation. It is also where I’ve told my wife everything, through the years, our spot of sanctuary, gut-growing comfort, fingers always slick with grease and cocktail condensation. I began my food writing ventures with a dinner at Braise. Vanguard was dad-rock-appropriate and rightly meaty for my first Father’s Day as a father. Von Trier was memorable for impossibly hard news scrubbing. A liquid yuletide dinner at Jamo’s is where I told a new friend that Die Hard 2 was my favorite Christmas movie, thus cementing an annual tradition, quick-contracting an adult life together of corner bars and such ridiculous conversational ping-ponging. I think of the spots and memories as a kind of incomplete Pinterest board, accomplished peak experiences that add up to an old man’s personality, the only truly prized collections of a weathered damaged person as he ambles down creaky basement stairs to be with his thoughts and his whiskey and his sad music. 

This is where I ponder them all these days, because, of course, we can’t congregate. Not fully. Not at any more than 25% capacity. Not yet. We must continue to backlog the graduation and retirement celebrations; the birthdays, the date nights, are heretofore banished to arrears. Zarletti has long been a favorite for such big deal days: something so classic in it’s brand of old-school, low-lit, cozy, big-ish city downtown class; a spot from the Billy Joel song, the one about the bottle of white and the bottle of red, that turns drastically halfway through, and always reminds, surprises, wow, Billy Joel is really good. The spot to bring parents, when they are in town, and making a night of it, destination-dining for before a Jerry Seinfeld show. Or James Taylor. Or maybe another Paul Cebar night. Something at Riverside or Pabst or Turner or one of the other venues we sometimes forget about downtown because we only go downtown a few times a year that aren’t Giannis-related, the kind deeming it appropriate to bring parental credit cards and parental-type wine knowledge and the from-out-of-town desire for every appetizer. It was a New Year’s Eve, frigid beyond reason, a reservation and a window seat gazing on Milwaukee Street’s exhibit of amateur night: illegal-looking mini-skirts scooting by, vehement disregard for jackets, everyone flying trashily against the indifferent wind, quick to get to wait in line, outside, at a place called Dick’s. It was a night where I realized all I wanted was to eat, eat more, chase and maintain a wine buzz, and go home to cozy pants and couch hibernation. I realized I’d turned nearly full adult. Zarletti is currently offering curbside, another step in this direction during our time of being grounded, suspended. It’s a bit of make-believe, like when I put a pinky up in the air while pretend-sipping from an impossibly small cup at a tea-party, playing at elegance, it can be a reason to take a shower, put on non-elasticized pants, and be in the world.     

Of course, it’s not as easy as it once was. In our DIY celebration experience there was an unexpected iIrritability over what to order across the homefront, unease, uncertainty about such a menu existing on my phone—phone menus generally more of the realm of pizza and tlayudas and short rib melts, the unrefined domain within which I thrive. But, it’s also this: I simply love asking a waiter what to have. The guidance, the expertise, a cultivated person who knows how to pronounce aglio e olio, one who has probably been to Italy more than once, who can do the whole wine presentation rigmarole with appropriate authoritative nonchalance while maintaining white shirt. I was reminded of the crisp, professional Zarletti service and all that our curbside culture leaves me wanting for. All of the plan and the know-how and the guidance that our political system leaves us all wanting for, too. I sought out the phone server’s recommendation, not knowing what to expect—-this is a person answering the phone, this is a person freaked out about job security, this is not your guidance counselor. And, still, there it was, a cheery, helpful rundown of appropriate Chianti’s, clear-voiced reassurance on precise pick-up time, an unabashed endorsement of the bolognese, lending conviction and a jarring reminder of days where you could talk to people who knew more than you, when you could be led, by a leader, united, when somebody in a place of esteem and prominence knew to steer with a gentle hand on back. As if you could talk to a favorite grandma again, count on the chief of your country to pretend to care or know how to think or speak in coherent grown-up sentences.  

Even the server seemed to take part, ushering our fare outside before my brakes could even squeal, everything in a crisp stapled bag. Donning a medical mask and gloves, he seemed to have my best interest at heart: “I was starting to worry about you,” he said, coyly indicating my tardiness. You and me both, bub, I thought, but didn’t say, because it’s the kind of banter that doesn’t quite translate that well through a mask. Also, I simply felt slow. My interaction-ability, my small talk, seemed to have grown rust, an attempt at rapport seemed foreign, even dangerous. The languor was likewise synonymous with the entirety of downtown around me, dreamily desolate, like an hour of a city where only criminals are out, it all sucking me down, sponging inertia and energy for big weekend night specialness. In the backseat my daughter didn’t care, she was insistent only on seeing the monstrous inflatable lobster or crab or whatever it is atop the Milwaukee Public Market. I obliged, willingingly, thinking, honestly, it was actually probably the hottest thing going in town at the moment.

By the time we cracked the bottle, lightly re-warmed polpette di carne, veal and beef meatballs in bright pomodoro sauce, started guzzling old unpronounceable grapes, began twirling linguine flecked with pecorino and chile flakes, lacquered with olive oil and garlic, began greedily sponging bolognese stew with torn bread pieces because the all-day-seeming simmer of beef and pork had too much heart for rigatoni-conveyance, everything was right, and, somehow nothing seemed quite right. It was not just the takeout containers, needing to be dumped into real bowls. Or the fact we couldn’t find a candle. Or the dimmer switch in our dining room that buzzes subtly when romantic-levels are sought. Or the presence of a baby monitor between us, where a candle should have been. Or that I had to sweep up my own crumbs, and I don’t even have one of those special server crumb-shovels. Or my Nespresso machine, usually seeming quite nice, adequate for after-dinner digestif-ing, was now somehow not noisy enough, not old enough, not machine enough, more of an espresso app, really, compared to any real Italian joint. Or that I still had white paint crusted on my hands, because I’m at that point in quarantine of wandering around the house, simply wondering what else I might give a coat to. Maybe it was that, mostly, being home after all, I didn’t feel particularly rude looking at my phone mid-meal, and thus ruined the moment like the obvious bad date guy in every Nora Ephron piece. The food could not have been better—and yet it underscored that I’ve never missed a restaurant so much. 

Of course I can just as much be a liability in a restaurant. My Clark’s always look too scuffed, I don’t know how or when to tuck in a shirt, when we go through the wine tasting, testing bit—so formal, a pretentious thing all our 18-year-old selves would loathe us for—I feel that I’m suddenly sitting in my father’s borrowed and oversized suit, that I’m about to be called out as a fraud, politely asked to leave the place, be told, “this is for the grown-ups.” But if anybody likes the whole charade more—the welcome of the owner, as Frankie Valli seemingly always hits overhead, who kind of puts out his arms like he’s been waiting, the accepting nod from the host when she finds my name, validates my existence in the tablecloth world, the cocktails at the bar stoking expectation, being handed a menu like a fresh Choose Your Own Adventure but after a two-Negroni buzz, the recitation of clandestine specials from the server like a def jam poetry flow where I feel like snapping fingers, the big night conversation so much more potent, charged, so much less small, the feel of spotting your waiter across the room, seeing his hands full, knowing this is it, your time is now—they have a serious problem. 

Places like Zarletti don’t exist solely for special occasions. Under now unimaginable normal circumstances, we could go on a random Wednesday. Or for lunch. But, looking back, what did we ever do to deserve that? Did we get good grades? Memorize enough things in school to progress, avoid the margins of society? Did we have all our vaccines as a tyke and eventually quit smoking and go to the doctor once a year-ish and the dentist twice-a-year, more or less? And so now, yes, we should be good, barring car accident or one of those freak early cancer diagnoses that only really happen to other people anyways? Or are we all, the ones here, now, looking forward to going back to a lifetime of memorable meals so numerous we barely notice them, just incomprehensibly lucky?  

As of this writing June doesn’t look much better than May, and July—who knows? I notice a chiropractor appointment has sprouted like a weed in an innocuous white cube a few rows from now, making me wonder how the quarantine time warp has trapezed us into our late middle ages. But otherwise there is certainly space to contemplate, reckon, know and grow expectant of how the Sharpie will be ready—so unused, so hard-up—as to come out in those satisfying soaks where you have to write fast to keep from bleeding out, and then keep going, on to the next weekend. For now, out of nostalgia, out of caution, also out of reasonable hopefulness, I’m setting sights again on New Year’s. There will be reservations, and Milwaukee Street a-twinkle with clamorous revelry and mini-skirts like glorified handkerchiefs going by, the biggest fears of everyone just catching a cold, all of us ready to burn 2020 to the ground, dance on the ashes, drunkenly, irresponsibly, appreciatively clinking glasses, and here will come the waiter, expectant of all my wishes, eager to help, ready to hold my hand. 

[weekendwarriorblog]

30 Minute Experiment: Time #30ME

Today’s topic might seem more than a mite META because doing a timed writing experiment in tribute to actual TIME might seem like a good 30 minutes of wasted time on both our parts. Well, we’ll see.  Let’s do this...

The soundtrack for today’s #30ME is either Pink Floyd’s appropriately-named “Time” or Steve Miller’s “Fly Like an Eagle” which starts with the immortal line “Time keeps on slippin’, slippin’, slippin’ into the future.” I actually was on Google and saw that there was a site offering a “meaning” for that line... and it was simple enough: “That’s what time does.”

Yeah, time has become a bit of an issue under this pandemic quarantine, and to me, it’s not that I have too much time on my hands, as much as the fact that time is just going by so quickly but seemingly in such a boring and non-constructive way. Every night when I go to bed around the same time (somewhere between 11 and midnight), I reflect back on the day behind me and can’t even think or remember much of anything I did. I know I did stuff because writing gets done as does the appropriate movie watching to be able to write a Weekend Warrior column for Wednesday. And I know I hate a few things, and maybe did a little bit of cleaning. But I also did a lot of time-wasting in terms of playing one of the two games I have on my XBox: Overwatch and the 2015 edition of Magic the Gathering (which I just got a few weeks back!).

It’s fun (in a so not fun way) reflecting back on this and wondering where the day went and also wondering if the next few days will be more of the same, even though I fully know that it is. 

Not having anywhere to go and nothing particularly meaningful to do begins to wear on you even when you have various “projects” to get to, including working on a number of screenplays and now having so much time to do so. Heck, it was something I’ve been wanting to do for years now and now that I have the time, I just don’t feel motivated to do much of anything. This includes the probably hundreds or thousands of unread books and comics I have surrounding me both physical and on my Kindle.

If you’re one of the younger people reading this, you may not realize how time seems to speed by as you get older to the point where you’re no longer BORED by not having nothing to do as much as being unmotivated to actually do anything. I’m sure a lot of this has to do with not having any human contact, something that’s definitely starting to get to me, but I have tried to get on Skype/Zoom and do a bit of socializing when I can, as well as keeping in touch with family/friends. 

It’s just tough because there are days where even communicating with the outside world seems like a lot of work. Believe me, I’ve been trying to use my time constructively by setting aside 30 minutes a day to do this and 30 minutes a day to do other things (like cleaning my apartment) and 30 minutes to work on my screenplays or write to my penpal in prison... and I do that. Oh, and of course, my 2 hours to do the #TimsTwitterListeningParty of the day although the next couple days are artists like the Pogues and Billy Bragg, who I’ve never been that into but figure I should give another listen. (Discovered a terrific artist known Joan As Police Woman yesterday through Tim Burgess’ nightly listening parties and other artists to boot.)

A lot of my time issues is as much to do with what part of my brain do I want to try to stimulate at any given time whether it’s my ears by listening to music or eyes through reading/watching or brain through writing... all of this stuff should be getting me motivated and stimulated, especially after I turn off the TV every day post-Cuomo. At times, it feels like I just have too many options but other than housecleaning and working on my screenplays, none of them seem to offer a real positive outcome that makes it worth the time spent on them. 

Sure, I love writing the Weekend Warrior but far less than when I had movies where I could talk about the box office and it’s more about trying to be critical to write reviews and believe me, it gets harder to be critical when you regularly find yourself turning to Quibi to watch its quick and easy ADHD-friendly content. (Dishmantled and Chrissy’s Court are my two favorites so far but I’m hoping to get more into Sam Raimi’s anthology series, 50 States of Fear, as it goes along.)

I guess you could say that I’m trying to balance my time between doing important things that need to get done vs. things that keep me motivated to get up, get out of bed and do ANYTHING. It gets tough some days, especially when you’re going to sleep at night wondering where the time went...every single day.

The thing is that when we’re kids (and mind you, some of us were kids before the internet, smartphones, video games, etc.) I remember how bored we would get so quickly since we never felt like there was anything to do. This would lead to things like playing outside which usually meant running around and playing with other kids and using our imaginations for fun, and it’s amazing how much time you can use up doing things like this.

Nowadays, it’s not so easy, and I definitely feel for my friends with young kids who need to keep them entertained while also keeping themselves motivated and productive and doing their jobs. In some ways, it’s easier for me that I don’t have kids to keep entertained right now but I’m sure having kids also keeps one motivated to keep pushing forward since they need to do or get work to keep their families happy.

It’s a little crazy that with all the stuff I have on my plate from wanting to rewatch all the James Bond movies on Hulu, to catching up with all the shows that I’ve been meaning to catch up on (like Killing Eve, Westworld, etc) I just can’t find the time to just focus on doing these things. As I’ve said, part of it comes from my own unique form of ADHD where I get bored very easily if I’m doing something for too long and particularly when it’s the same thing like watching shows/movies. 

Heck, I could easily turn into a couch potato (or rather, futon couch/bed potato since I don’t have a couch) but that doesn’t help fight against the lethargy that is constantly on the verge of setting in permanently.

It wasn’t so hard when I had actual things to write, when I had movies to review or interviews to transcribe or write-up although i had time issues of a different kind when I was so busy from conducting too many interviews. I remember one of my last weeks at the Beat way back in January, I did four interviews in a single day on top of three movies and that was a normal day where I’d find time for all of it!

A lot of my time should be used looking for a job or my next source of income but even that’s become tough since surprise, surprise, the job listings have dried up completely. No one is posting for jobs since no one knows when this is going to end. Sure, there are a lot of nursing jobs and the like because hospitals still need people but I haven’t seen anything that might be worth applying for.

Part of my issues with how weird time has been behaving is not knowing when I’ll be able to get back to some semblance of normal, even if it’s having screenings to see  or concerts (a passion/hobby which generally require some sort of income to support)... for some reason, having concrete things in my calendar for the week helps me cope with the need to use my time constructively.

I do use some of my time to keep in touch with the outside world via social media and that always brings me some pleasure since it’s interacting with others that offers the type of stimulation of surprise, not knowing who you might interact with or how someone might react, that has generally kept me motivated, but man, it gets tough at time.

I have a few more minutes so not sure what else to talk about re: time. I just haven’t been able to explain why it’s behaving so oddly where there are days when I don’t really know if it’s Tuesday or Saturday, and that was never a problem even while spending the past 20 years not doing the typical 9 to 5 Monday to Friday. (Oddly, when I worked at Tracking Board, which was straight 9 to 5 five days a week, days would blow by even quicker since I always was on the clock and had work to do... except Saturdays where I had to create five or six original posts every day and sometimes, those days just DRAGGED.)

I’m slowly figuring out ways of dealing with time and using it constructively but I definitely find myself having to push myself especially after Blas comes on and talks about how everything will probably be cancelled through at least June. Believe me, I feel awful for the people who are more prone to contracting COVID, but I also have felt fine for weeks now and I’m ready to get back into some sort of better normal than what is going on right now. It’s just hard to do that just sitting around my apartment every day.

Anyway my time is up... hopefully I’ll have a better topic for tomorrow. :)

[bakaity-poetry]

How are you today? Not good. I haven't had a drink or a smoke for two months. Two months? Is that by choice? Yeah, I was supposed to get organised. [lights cigarette] But not anymore, I guess. You made a film in London twenty years ago with I Hired a Contract Killer. Have you ever thought of shooting here again since? Sure, I will shoot anywhere. But the laboratories are bankrupt and so is Kodak, so why not me also? Do you intend to stick with film, even as the whole of cinema seems to be going digital? Yes, I will die with my boots on. I won't make a digital film in this life. Cinema is made from light and I don't even know what you call a filmmaker these days...maybe a pixelmaker, and I am a filmmaker not a pixelmaker. I wish them luck, not all of them but most of them. You last made a film in France in 1992 with La Vie de Bohème. Have you had a strong desire to go back and film there over the past twenty years? No, in fact I planned to shoot the story in Spain but I couldn't find a real harbour town there. Then I wanted to shoot in Marseille but it was too complicated to shoot there because the streets are so narrow. If I put my tracks there it would block the traffic, and it would take six hours to the location and six hours back, so which hours would I shoot? My logical mind told me it couldn't be done. I drove all over the coast of the Mediterranean and France and Le Havre was my last hope, but it was perfect. Did you have the whole story in your head at this point or did you develop it when you found the right location? The story was ready but I needed a town. I couldn't start writing without the right place to set it in. Why did the subject of immigration attract you? It's a shame, that's why. I am European and it is a shame for Europe that we have this kind of disgraceful situation going on all the time. Immigration stories are often very dark but this one feels optimistic. I can't help my natural optimism. It's a good thing to have, some faith in humanity. No, of humanity I know nothing. I know in the past you have often had a happy ending and sad ending ready and have made a late decision about which one you will use. Since I knew this question would come, I counted yesterday. It seems to be quite mathematical that every second film is either a happy ending or sad ending, but with Le Havre it was always a happy ending, always a fairytale. In fact with Le Havre I have two happy endings, which is something new, but don't tell the audience. How different is it for you to write French or English characters instead of characters from Finland? There is no difference; people are people. My eternal plan is always to make a film that a Chinese lady from the countryside can understand without subtitles. You live in Portugal now, right? Have you considered making a film there? No, never. I have been there 23 winters now and I still can't understand the way they think. They are not like the French or Spanish or English. It is an interesting country. Is silent cinema a big influence on your work? I imagine Buster Keaton was someone who inspired you. Yes, Keaton and Chaplin were the best of all time. Both of them. I particularly like the pale silence of Keaton. He was someone who could express so much through his face alone. Is that something you ask of your actors? The eyes talk, not the face. That would be overacting. If they don't smile or move their hands like a windmill, they are hired. Jean-Pierre Darroussin is someone you haven't worked with before, but he seems an actor who is a perfect fit for your world. Yes, he was lucky. That was his only chance to survive and have a career, with me. To be honest, I dislike overacting to the extreme that I don't allow acting at all. So how do you work with your actors on set? If needed, I will act in front of them, to show them how they should act. If that's not needed, I will just tell them "more" or "less," and it's usually less. Casting for me is hiring the right actors so normally I don't have to direct at all, which is good for a lazy man. That's what Hitchcock used to say, "75% of directing is casting." Is that what he said? I always thought it was my idea. Going back to your point about making films that can be understood without subtitles, you made a silent film in 1999 with Juha. Now that The Artist is proving a big success, do you think that's something you might explore again? No, I have done it already. I made the last silent film of the twentieth century and in fact I started this boom with the best possible film, so I don't need to make a silent film anymore. I understand Le Havre is intended as the first part of a new trilogy. Well, there are lots of plans in this life. I'm so lazy that I have to make these illusions of films in the future. It keeps my mind busy. I would like to say that this is my last film but it wouldn't be a fact because I'm too young to die. You have been taking quite a long time out between your most recent films. Your last picture was Lights in the Dusk in 2006 and before that it was The Man Without a Past in 2002. I used to be the fastest in the world. In the late 80's I made four films a year but as you get older you get slower. Even Jarmusch is faster than me now. Do you find it harder to get money for your films these days or is the support always there if you want to make a film? Money was never a problem, and if I couldn't get money I would make it without. Not having money is just an excuse for lazy people. I did read that you and your brother are responsible for one fifth of all Finnish movies over the past thirty years. Nowadays I think it's more like one quarter. What is the film culture like in Finland? Is it a big cinephile country? It used to be a cinema country; Godard used to have more audiences in Finland than Paris in the old days. Now it is all the usual Hollywood shit because the distribution is a problem. Is that why you and Mika started the Midnight Sun Festival? That was more because of the rage we had against festivals where nobody meets nobody. We decided to have a festival in the middle of nowhere so everybody has to meet everybody, nobody can escape. We tell the directors, "If you want to escape you're welcome to. The airport is 150km that way." Nobody has left so far. Have you ever been to Finland? No, I haven't. Don't go. Life is boring enough. When you and Mika were growing up, what films were an inspiration to you? Thanks to our father we lived in the middle of nowhere throughout our childhood. Tiny villages and if there was a cinema they would be showing gladiator films from the 50's. It was a graveyard for Hollywood films, so the first serious films I saw were when I joined the film club when I was 16. My first real cinema experience was a double-bill of Nanook by Flaherty and L'Âge d'Or by Buñuel, and that's when I thought, "OK, this is a serious business." Between these two films you can put all of the cinema ever made. It's a pity for me that I never got to that level. You have often said that you're a bad filmmaker and a lazy filmmaker, but you haven't done badly over thirty years, have you? Well, in the kingdom of the blind even the one-eyed jack is king. Have you ever been satisfied with one of your films? If I had been satisfied I wouldn't have continued, so obviously not. It's not nice to die without being satisfied just once, so I keep trying. How closely do your scripts match the final movie? If I have a script it's 1:1, there are no changes. Sometimes I don't have a script and I improvise – the actors don't improvise at all but I improvise – and I make the story when I shoot. I can write very fast and the ideas are there so it doesn't matter if I write the film or improvise, it's the same thing. When I told people that I was meeting you they all said they wanted to me to ask me about The Leningrad Cowboys. I recently saw for the first time the short you made with them, Rocky VI. Yeah, it was one of the first rock videos in Europe. The band told me they had a good title for a band, The Leningrad Cowboys, and they had an idea to make some kind of movie. I improvised that day, we shot the next day and I edited the third day. I had a good time doing that, they used to be a good band. Their records were never good but they were wild live. What are they doing these days? They still exist but they were always a band where the best musicians would hang around for a while and then leave, so a band called Leningrad Cowboys still exists but it's not the same band. Music is such an important component of your films. When do you start thinking about the soundtrack? I make the film first and then I go to my record shelf. I only use music which I happen to have. It's a way to avoid dialogue, because the music talks so much and provides a kind of balance to the story. It's interesting. The only thing that interests me in cinema nowadays is to edit music because you can change everything. You can make comedy into tragedy and the other way too. One of the great scenes is Le Havre is a performance from Little Bob. Where did you discover him? Little Bob is the Elvis of Le Havre and Elvis is the Little Bob of Memphis, Tennessee. You can't go to Le Havre without bumping into Little Bob. He used to be a big star in Europe before your days, and he even toured Finland in the late 70's. I knew his music but I had never met the guy before. So when I met him I decided I had to write him into the film. I always use live music in my films for some odd reason. I like to make one song true. Do you know already what the next film in this trilogy will be? Who knows? Maybe I will retire, I don't know. Will I still have film in a few years? Anyway I am planning to go back to my original profession writing, which I never even started. I will start with short stories, but it's such a bloody lonely and complicated job. When I say, "let's shoot" we hire people and equipment, and then I have to be there on the first day with some idea. With writing I can always say, "Oh, I will start tomorrow...I will start tomorrow..." Filmmaking is the only career for a lazy man.

[morningmindsetpodcast-blog]

MM189 - Bohemian Rhapsody

The recently released biography film about Queen and Freddie Mercury will mean different things to different people. Paul will share what the movie meant to him during this episode of Morning Mindset.

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Episode Transcription

[INTRO]

♫ Trenches by Pop Evil ♫

*Alex*

Welcome to Morning Mindset. A daily dose of practical wit and wisdom with a professional educator & trainer, Amazon best selling author, United States Marine, Television, and Radio host, Paul G. Markel. Each episode will focus on positive and productive ways to strengthen your mindset and help you improve your relationships, career goals, and overall well-being. Please welcome your host; Paul G. Markel.

*Professor Paul*

Hello, welcome back. It's that time again for Morning Mindset, and today I'm going to do something. That's a little bit topical. I know that I try and keep these Universal. I've always tried to do that so that no matter when you listen to it, whether it's sometime in the distant future or recent past or what have you. That it will apply and I'm taking a little bit of a risk because this is going to be a bit of a pop culture reference the movie Bohemian Rhapsody the movie by the title of that name was just recently released.

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It’s a biography film about the band Queen and their lead singer Freddie Mercury who died in 1991, and that I took my son my son and I went and we watched the movie this past weekend and I really enjoyed it and one of the reasons I really enjoyed it or I believe I did was because the music of Queen was. Very very important in my childhood. It was very popular. They were at the height of their Fame right during my formative years the late 1970s on into the 80s and that's when they were they released.

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We will rock you and news of the world and the game with another one bites the dust and under pressure with David Bowie and so on and so forth. A lot of big songs that obviously got a lot of AirPlay and if you're if you're anyone and I don't know about young people today, I mean, I guess they do but everybody since the invention of the radio has had a soundtrack to their youth.

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Whether you know, I remember when I was a young child, you know in like elementary school early Elementary School. I remember my dad and my mom listening to what was called at the time oldies stations. That's right. You know my mom and dad I'm driving around in the car and the in the station wagon in the backseat and my parents were listening to them.

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At the time was called the oldies station and what was on the oldies station music from the 50s and 60s. I don't have do they still have radio stations that they call the oldies stations. I don't know if they do. I think at the current thing is classic rock. Alright, classic rock is for people in their 40s and 50s and maybe even 60s.

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So, you know Chuck Berry and basically the music you would have heard on the TV show. Happy Days. That was the soundtrack of my mom and dad's generation and my soundtrack included a lot included Ted Nugent and the romantics and The Knack and My Sharona and of course a lot of the big bands and so forth, but my soundtrack also included Queen now the movie is going to mean different things to different people a young person.

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Who never knew the band Queen as an active band now, I understand that Brian May and Roger Taylor that they have done special concerts and they've done some tours and they put together some music. They worked with Paul Rodgers and some other artists, but essentially. After Freddie Mercury passed away after his death the original quartet the original four guys and the creative magic that they were able to, you know, put together ended with his death and if you're under 30, you never knew of him of queen or pretty Mercury being alive.

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I mean, he's been dead for not quite 30 years now, so think about that. You're talking to somebody that's 28-29 years old. It's music basically to them its history in them and they'll they may see this picture and think that the picture somehow is a call for like, gay rights advocacy or what have you, and I'm afraid what's going to get lost in that is the fact that the band, like many of the great acts from the 60s 70s 80s.

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I know like I still like a classic rock as 60s 70s 80s into Ding you. These bands it what there was no American Idol back. Then there was no Dancing with the Stars. There was no America's Got Talent or the there was none of that you had teenagers that that just had passion and drive and some of them have actually had genuine talent and some of these people with Talent found each other, and through that passion and drive and sacrifice, you know all the old bands that you consider to be of the super bands. If you look at their stories, they weren't handpicked by a studio Executives didn't go out and recruit all these people to assemble them as a band and put them out in front of the world.

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Now, they did things like, you know, they played a gig at a nightclub for. You know fifty dollars and they had to divide the $50 for ways and pay their bar tab and pay for their fuel and gas and by the time they did all that they basically had played for free if you were able to watch some of these documentaries of the original bands, you know, rush or queen or you know, the who or you name it a lot of these bands these guys were just paying their dues they were struggling they were sacrificing and a lot of, for instance that in the band Queen all of the guys in the band Brian May, Brian May was like a physicist who studies like, astrophysics and I can't remember John Deacon was electrical engineering and then oh and Roger Taylor was studying to be a dentist. So they weren't idiots. They weren't bombs, but they sacrificed.

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In order to achieve something that many people by will look at today and say it was pretty great. They put everything together and they became a talent that even though they haven't made our produce new music for 30 years or more. So almost 30 years people are still listening to and appreciating today, and that is what I would hope that people would get from the movie Bohemian Rhapsody the fact that I know there's a human drama, you know, there's the and you have to have that in movies. You have to have drama in the movies to keep it interesting for the audience. You can't just tell the story exactly as it was because most people story exactly as it was isn't that interesting but in this situation.

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I really hope that the genius, the musical genius, and talent of Freddie Mercury and Brian May and Roger Taylor and John Deacon, but that's not lost. But it's not lost behind this Hollywood contrived, you know, political correctness. Shall we say or social Consciousness or whatever the fact that matter is it for individuals came together?

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They had, they took their individual talents. They combine them with the others and they came up with something that was tremendous something that we can enjoy today and years and years and years later, I mean. Started in the early 1970s and here we are today appreciating and enjoying the music that they left us and one other thing that I came away with and many of you if you watch them.

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If you listen to this program if you listen to Morning Mindset and you watch the movie, and then if you're a geek like me and after the movie, you went and watch the behind the scenes interviews with Brian May and Roger Taylor and you know the actors that were involved at and so forth and a lot of people are very sad that that. Freddie Mercury, he contracted he contracted HIV and he died of pneumonia in 1991 and he was only 45 years old and people feel felt.

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It was a tragedy that we've lost him. So relatively early in his life and it was but Brian May and Roger Taylor are now in a position to do what.  you know, they lost their friend. But they're here to tell the story. Sometimes you are the story and sometimes it's up to you to be the Storyteller right now.

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You're drawn oxygen on planet Earth. You are working on your story and someday your story will be told and that was exactly what went down in the movie Bohemian Rhapsody. So it's rated PG-13 if you're worried about I wouldn't take young kids to see it. Certainly teenagers Junior High and older kids, I would take to see it. I hope you guys go to see it and I hope you enjoy the music and the experience. Alright, ladies and gentlemen, that is that I am your host Paul Markel, and I will talk to you again real soon.

[OUTRO]

♫ Trenches by Pop Evil ♫

*Alex*

Thank you for spending time with us today. To get show notes, submit a topic request, for more from your host Paul G. Markel, visit MorningMindsetPodcast.com. That’s MorningMindsetPodcast.com. Please leave a review of this podcast on your favorite podcast player, we appreciate your time & effort, and we look forward to reading your honest feedback.

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