#joanna gruesome

[tuuneoftheday]

Ex-Void - Swansea

[bandcampsnoop]

10/2/24.

A little over 3 years ago, I bought 4 singles from Prefect Records - GN, The Tubs, Mt. Misery and Ex-Vöid. At the same time I had posted about EggS.

Ex-Vöid (London, UK) has moved to German label Tapete Records for "In Love Again", but EggS remains on Prefect and are releasing their new album, "Crafted Achievement" in November.

"In Love Again" sounds a bit more produced, but still rocks and the vocal interplay immediately makes their sound recognizable. Apparently, they cover a Lucinda Williams song on the album.

Members of the band were previously in Joanna Gruesome. And one member is also a member of the aforementioned The Tubs.

[senorboombastic]

What’s On Michael Portillo’s iPod: Ex-Vöid

Here at Birthday Cake For Breakfast, we like to get to the heart of what an artist is all about. We feel that what influences them is just as important as the music they make. With that in mind, off the back of releasing their latest album ‘In Love Again‘ (out now via Tapete Records), Lan McArdle and Owen Williams of Ex-Vöid talk us through a number of influences. Take it away, Lan and…

[verytinysongs]

In Love Again by Ex-Vöid

Band Name: Ex-Vöid Label: Tapete Records Location: London, UK Release Date: January 17, 2025 Tags: alternative, indie pop, indie rock, jungly pop, noise pop, punk Recommended Tunes: Swansea Links: Bandcamp

[dustedmagazine]

The Tubs — Dead Meat (Trouble in Mind)

Dead Meat by The Tubs

The Tubs start in a scramble but end in haunting delicacy in this first full-length. Much has been made of lead singer Owen “O” Williams’ warbly Richard Thompson-ish voice. He vibrates with feeling, as he sings earnest but highly caffeinated folk melodies over the clash and clatter of agitated post-punk. Yet perhaps equally important is the fervor and romantic energy with which the band pushes him along. The Tubs are tight and aggressive and exciting; you’ll be hopping from one foot to another a little bit even in the dreamy, sensitive bits.

A little history if you haven’t been keeping up. The band, from London, is part of the Joanna Gruesome diaspora. Along with Ex-Vöid (whose Lan McArdle makes a cameo here), they are one of two bands demonstrably better and more interesting than their predecessor. They’ve had two EPs before this one. Chris Liberato enjoyed The Names in mid-2021, especially “Two Person Love,” of which he wrote: “[It’s] the best track of the bunch, though, with its classic sounding riff that swoops in and out allowing room for the chiming and chugging rhythm section to do the hard work.”

All that is prelude to one of 2023’s first certified bangers, and album that’s as touching as it is taut and which speaks to the heart as well as the adrenal gland. Dead Meat cruises ahead on the kinds of melodies you’ll end up singing along to. However badly you do it, it will feel pretty good

The title track has a snarl in its rant but a lilting, rising, falsetto chorus. “You can blame it all on me,” croons Williams and at least one of his bandmates in a voice like spider’s web. It floats to rest on a firestorm of clashing guitar/bass/drums. “Duped” scrambles rapid-fire between emphatic guitar chords, all scissor kicks and amp jumps, except for the yearning radiance of William’s sighing, “Why did I bother?” If “Pictures of Lily” is your favorite Who song, you will like this tune.

The last song, “Wretched Lie” is the clear highlight, an R.E.M.-ish jangle hopped up on cold brew, but the singing a tracery of longing, memory and regret. “You were always on my mind,” breathes the singer, with all the wistfulness of C86, while a racket explodes behind him. It’s like the scene in the action movie where the hero walks away from a firestorm, except it makes you want to fall in love again.  

Jennifer Kelly

[manysmallhands]

Reblogging for day 7 of FearOfMu21c

#40: Trust Fund/Joanna Gruesome - Split 12" EP

Released - Sep 22, 2014

Highest UK chart position - Did not chart

First heard - Forums, 2014

If I make a little tally chart of when I discovered all of these songs, 2014 accounts for a full 20% of them. The reason for this is not so mysterious: after over a decade of being able to do next to nothing, I found myself suddenly able to do slightly more than next to nothing and so the era of buying less than half a dozen CDs a year suddenly fell away. I looked around music blogs and forums, I found people with (what my girlfriend calls) “cousin eardrums” on the internet and I started to build a relationship with a world outside my head for the first time in years. This EP was at the centre of what I loved about DiY indie at that time, primarily because it was the first Trust Fund record that I heard and Trust Fund remain for me the best of those bands. My capacity to talk about them has already been tested to worrying levels (there’s a very long essay I wrote about them somewhere on the internet that was referred to as my dissertation by friends), but I appreciate that my audience here is more of the “who dat?” variety, so I shall try and keep this fairly brief.

Tho the 10s are largely regarded as a musical backwater for indie, I’m tempted to think of them as a Golden Age for DiY guitar pop. Being what it was, it broke little new ground, but there was a strong sense of character in the music that made its identity feel distinct to me - maybe that’s just the zeal of the newcomer, idk. Trust Fund themselves sound a lot like American slacker rock pushed thru a UK indiepop blender: you could hear the chunky Weezer style powerchords and the more angular Pavement-type elements, but within that, there’s also Ellis Jones’s faltering, high pitched whine of a voice singing about his two favourite subjects, awkward friendship and dishonesty. At one of these two poles is “No Pressure”, an alt country daze where Jones offers a girlfriend a safe space for some sort of emotional recovery. This leads to some of his best lines - “this is not your house and you do not cut the grass” in particular captures all the care and solicitousness of making sure someone feels welcome in a difficult situation - and the song itself becomes a sombre but comforting refuge from the worst that the world has to offer. At the other is the razor sharp power pop of Scared, an absolute rush of a song but one where pace and melody tend to mask the sheer desperation of Ellis’s vocal. Lead track Reading The Wrappers is great too - (ed. makes “wind it up” gestures) - yeah, alright… (for fucks sake - ed.)

The other side of this 12” single is occupied by Joanna Gruesome, a better band than their name suggests but who are not on top form here: only the elegiac shimmer and melancholy of Coffee Implosion matches up to any of the Trust Fund tunes. That doesn’t really matter tho - four of these six songs are among the very best of their kind. While it’s a record that still stands on its merits, it’s become a time capsule for me too, a moment where I was excited by music for the first time in years and feeling like my life was, for once, heading somewhere other than indefinite illness. The illness thing didn’t pan out: I got worse again, improved more, had a breakdown somewhere in the middle and finally understood that being able to go for a walk and make my own dinner was about as good as it was likely to get. But the music is still important to me, both on this record and all the others that I discovered from 2013/14 onwards. I can’t say much has ever happened in my life - it’s largely been based around long periods of nothing at all - but this was a time when I again became a person that related to the outside world as something other than a sick body and those records were my conduit for that. Whatever it is that I’ve become now, it began with these songs.

[whatsjulietslastname]

artists and bands i actually think Chloe, Max and Rachel would listen to (because taylor swift is NOT the only singer to exist) :

Chloe

R.E.M.

Green Day

Daughter

Radiohead

The Runaways

Pixies

Joanna Gruesome

Joan Jett & the Blackhearts

Weezer

Paramore

Max

girl in red

Hozier

Mitski

Birdy

The Paper Kites

Novo Amor

Bon Iver

Ben Howard

Lord Huron

Phoebe Bridgers

Rachel

Daughter

Kings of Leon

Cigarettes After Sex

The Neighborhood

Sonic Youth

Wolf Alice

Hozier

Lana Del Rey (disclaimer: i don’t support this woman and what she’s done but i do think her music suits Rachel’s vibe)

boygenius

Frank Ocean

[anxiousnerdwritings]

How would Gregor (the mountain) react to Joanna!lookalike passing? Again I would imagine not well.

He would become even more of a monster after the Reader’s death. Joanna!Lookalike was something completely and utterly special to him and now that she was gone, Gregor felt absolutely nothing even more than usual for anyone or anything in his wake. Similar to Cersei and Tywin, Gregor would put all his blame and rage towards Tyrion for taking away the only thing he could ever bring himself to have care for. As much as he would take great pleasure in visiting Tyrion in his cell and rip him apart piece by little piece and getting the dwarf’s punishment over with already, Gregor would refrain from doing so on Tywin’s orders, it takes everything in him to do so. But that wouldn’t keep Gregor from routinely standing outside Tyrion’s cell and just watching him. Staring him down, emitting the most intense and murderous aura from his unmoving stature as he does so.

Gregor had been the one who had carried Joanna!Lookalike’s body away after she died. Cersei had to be held back by her own father and various Kingsguards just so Gregor could get to his poor late princess. As much of a terrible monster Gregor already was, being left to witness the gruesome demise of the only thing he held dear to him and caring her lifeless body in his arms after not being able to protect her only fucked him up more. If it were anyone else he wouldn’t have batted an eye at it but Joanna!Lookalike!Reader wasn’t just anyone. When not behind closed doors, Gregor would be even more of a menace than normal. He would lash out without reason and at anyone who was within proximity of him. He didn’t care who or what crossed his path, either way it wouldn’t survive him one way or another. He would massacre and destroy just about anyone and anything. The only one’s somewhat safe from his wrath were Tywin, Cersei and the children. Even that wasn’t saying very much. On a few occasions, Gregor had been on the verge of disobeying or flat out not taking Tywin’s orders, even going as far as to not backdown when confronted about his insubordination. When he was carrying out orders, Gregor took them even further than he already use to.

When Tyrion demands a trial by combat, Gregor already knows he’s going to be the one to destroy whoever foolishly chooses to be the imp’s champion. He has every intention of ensuring Tyrion’s punishment for taking away his only precious thing in this world and he will happily cut down and tear through whoever he had to to see it happen. He knew nothing could ever bring his beloved princess back, he knew the only thing he ever cared about was gone forever but that self awareness did nothing to quell his deep seeded rage. He had absolutely nothing to lose or hold him back now and that was made everyone else’s problem more than ever.

[omegaremix]

Omega Radio for December 11, 2013; #38.

God Is An Astronaut “Shores Of Orion”

Pigface “Kiss King (High High High)”

Versus “Janet”

Beck “Pay No Mind (Snoozer)”

Flipper “Ha Ha Ha”

Melvins, The “The Bloat”

Nirvana “Pennyroyal Tea”

Defiance, Ohio “Lambs At The Slaughter”

Ride “Like A Daydream”

J.J. Paradise Players Club, The “Safety Word”

GVSB “Park Avenue”

Swans “You Know Everything”

Bailter Space “Retro”

Helium “XXX” (edit)

Joanna Gruesome “Tugboat”

Unrest “Coming Hot And Proud”

Shop Assistants, The “All Day Long”

Black Tambourine “Dream Baby Dream”

Killing Joke “Eighties”

Elastica “Vaseline”

Pussy Riot “Putin Zassal”

Jesus Fucking Christ “Bloodshot”

Holy Shit! “Clara’s Future”

Screamers, The “Vertigo”

Rusted Shut “Buy Me A Jesus”

Unsane “The Bloat” + “Ha Ha Ha”

Sex Pistols, The “No Fun”

Deluxe broadcast; all guitars, all rock.

[bitter69uk]

Recently watched: The Kiss (1988): many Generation X horror aficionados have fond memories of this one (apparently it was ubiquitous on cable TV for years), but believe it or not, somehow, The Kiss had eluded me until now. It was filmed in Montreal, Quebec (substituting for suburban Albany, New York) and as a Canadian myself, I detect an ineffable low-budget Canadian vibe (and some of the supporting actors have Canadian accents). Following the gruesome death of her sister in a freak accident, long-lost Aunt Felice (Polish actress and model Joanna Pacula) resurfaces to console her hunky widowed brother-in-law (Nicholas Kilbertus) and teenage niece (Meredith Salenger). Felice is inscrutable, feline, possesses the sultry looks of an haute couture fashion model (Pacula regularly graced Vogue magazine at the time) and is concealing a secret – she practices voodoo! (This chiefly involves a cursed talisman and lighting a LOT of candles and crouching in front of them). In no time, Felice is wreaking a path of bloody destruction. Most memorably: the grisly infamous “necklace-caught-in-shopping mall-escalator” sequence that I suspect psychologically scarred an entire generation. Anyway, The Kiss is objectively terrible and characterized by lame special effects and tepid performances (the exception: Mimi Kuzyk as the wacky neighbour seems to be in an entirely different film from everyone else) but packs a pulpy low-brow appeal. I remember when Pacula was hailed as “the next big thing from Europe” by Time magazine in 1983 alongside red-hot up-and-coming peers Isabella Rossellini and Nastassja Kinski. (The journalist raved about her “bat-wing eyebrows, Slavic cheekbones and a drop-dead look that can scald the screen”). Her international career began promisingly with Gorky Park (1983) but then descended to “erotic dramas”, straight to video action thrillers and – worst of all – Steven Seagal movies. It certainly wasn’t for lack of talent or beauty on Pacula’s part. Link.

[tuuneoftheday]

Ex-Vöid - Down The Drain

[daggerzine]

Ex-Void- In Love Again (Tapete)

I enjoyed this UK quartet's debut from two years ago and was psyched when this arrived (out of the blue, for me). 

The band is the handiwork of Lan McArdle (formerly of Joanna Gruesome), and Scott Williams of DAGGER faves The Tubs, plus bassist Laurie Foster, and drummer Geoge Rothman. These four are definitely in sync and ready to deliver.

In Love Again offers up 10 songs in 36 minutes and a few of my faves include gems like opener "Swansea," plus the choppy title track and the charging "Pinhead." Also don't miss the pop confection of "Strange Insinuation." 

There's always room for smart, hooky and somewhat noisy pop in this household and Ex-Void fit that bill perfectly. 

www.tapeterecords.de

[senorboombastic]

a/s/l: The Tubs

Remember the days of the old schoolyard? Remember when Myspace was a thing? Remember those time-wasting, laborious quizzes that everyone used to love so much? Birthday Cake For Breakfast is bringing them back!  Every couple of weeks, an unsuspecting band will be subject to the same old questions about dead bodies, old records, crying and crushes.   This Week: Ahead of releasing their new…

[maddie-grove]

2024 Reading Roundup: General Fiction

I've decided to write a roundup of all the books I read by genre last year (plus a separate post for rereads) before sharing my top twenty. These are the general fiction (not YA or romance) novels I read last year, in order of publication date:

The Night of the Hunter by Davis Grubb (1953): In the bleakest days of the Great Depression, the Reverend Harry Powell roams the poverty-ravaged Ohio River Valley, consumed by a twisted religious fervor. Following a lead from a condemned man, he courts young widow Willa Harper and charms an entire small town...except for Willa's ten-year-old son John, who fears him intensely and has guessed at his ulterior motives. This is a tense, beautifully written book, but honestly I think seeing the more-famous 1955 movie first spoiled it for me. The movie is very faithful to the book and has the added benefit of featuring gorgeous visuals and electrifying performances.

The Power of the Dog by Thomas Savage (1967): In 1920s Montana, awkward, gentle-natured rancher George Burbank marries delicate widow Rose Gordon. It's a fine match, but George's brother Phil, a complicated man who rarely bathes or holds back his cruel remarks, despises both Rose and her sensitive teenage son Peter. It turns out, though, that Peter is pretty complicated himself. This is also a book where I saw and liked the movie first, but this time I liked the story even more in novel form. I really enjoyed getting into the characters' heads, and the ending hits even harder when you read it.

The Siege of Trencher's Farm by Gordon Williams (1969): American professor George Magruder and his English wife Louise are living unhappily in a small Cornwall town, partly because their marriage is strained and partly because they don't fit in with the clannish locals. When the escape of a child murderer from a nearby prison coincides with a little girl disappearing from a Christmas party, the couple finds themselves dealing with much more immediate threats: home invasion and mob violence! Sam Peckinpah based his controversial movie Straw Dogs on this novel, but I've never seen Straw Dogs so that's not important right now. I have no idea how seriously I'm supposed to take the gender politics of this story--at different points, it feels like Williams is endorsing the subservience of women or mocking those who find that idea attractive--and honestly that ambiguity enhanced my experience. The exciting, gruesome action sequences were also excellent.

The Stepford Wives by Ira Levin (1972): Joanna Eberhart is ready for some culture shock when she moves from New York City to the suburban Stepford, Connecticut with her husband and children, but she's not prepared for single-mindedly devoted most of the women of Stepford are to their homes. She makes friends with women who still have their own hobbies and interests, but, as their ranks thin, she begins to suspect something more sinister than ordinary conformity. Based on its reputation, I was expecting the novel to be sharply written and offer insight into the backlash against second-wave feminism, but I wasn't expecting it to be so genuinely terrifying. It delivered on all counts.

The Woman in Black by Susan Hill (1983): Arthur Kipps, a young solicitor, travels to coastal northeastern England to settle the affairs of a remote estate, but finds himself trailed by a gaunt, black-clad figure with malevolent eyes. This gothic horror novel has some top-notch spooky shit going on (lots of fog, a house that's only reachable at low tide) and an absolutely devastating payoff.

The Sympathizer by Viet Thanh Nguyen (2015): An unnamed North Vietnamese spy in the South Vietnamese army moves to Los Angeles with his former general and many other refugees following the Fall of Saigon. With flexible morals, a broad mind, and a generous heart, he tries to balance his ideals and his personal desires. This book doesn't have a ton of momentum until the ending chapters, but it was vibrant and often very funny whenever I picked it up.

Slade House by David Mitchell (2015): From the 1970s to the 2010s, a mysterious house becomes the final resting place of several lost souls: a lonely young boy, a washed-up cop, an insecure college student, and others. I'm a sucker for stories about a house/monster/artifact/whatever that uses your deepest insecurities and desires to kill/consume you; it's such a great way to study a character. Unfortunately, like many stories of this type, the deal with the Scary Thing (in this case, the house and its inhabitants) is less interesting than the deal with its victims. It's so cheesy. It doesn't really detract from the rest of the story, though.

The House in the Cerulean Sea by T.J. Klune (2020): In a world where magical beings exist and the government systematically oppresses them, middle-aged social worker Linus Baker is sent to investigate a remote orphanage for unusual children, run by the eccentric Arthur Parnassus. I should say upfront that this isn't really my kind of book; I have a limited capacity for magical-school/orphanage stories even when they're for kids, and the adult version interests me even less. It's a sweet novel, but it bashed me over the head with whimsy and drowned me in therapy-speak. I was exhausted by the end. Also, Klune sets up the government as this sinister, all-powerful force, but as an antagonist it feels less like Big Brother from 1984 and more like the douchey bosses from Office Space.

Embassy Wife by Katie Crouch (2021): After her husband announces that he's gotten a Fulbright grant to study genocide in Namibia, Silicon-Valley-based breadwinner Amanda agrees to move with him and their nine-year-old daughter Meg to Windhoek, where she soon finds herself at loose ends. Ambassador's wife Persephone, lively and frequently intoxicated, strikes up a friendship with her. Meanwhile, Meg becomes friends with the daughter of a Namibian minister, whose beautiful wife has a secret history with Amanda's husband. This novel is kind of an odd duck. The beginning foreshadows all kinds of danger and dark secrets, but it's ultimately a soapy beach read. It did keep me turning the pages, at any rate.

The Turnout by Megan Abbott (2021): Dara runs a ballet school, inherited from her mother, with her fragile sister Marie and her retiring husband Charlie. Just as Nutcracker season is beginning, their lives are disrupted, first by a fire in the attic and then by Derek, a crude, insinuating contractor hired to fix the damage. Derek has his eye on both the family's ramshackle Victorian house and their secrets, but the extent of the danger he presents is unclear. I liked this book well enough; however, it's not Abbott's best. The lurid reveal is lurid in a pretty predictable way.

Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan (2021): It's December 1985 in small-town Ireland, and Bill Furlong, despite a hard economy and a somewhat rough childhood, has managed to build a decent life with his wife and five daughters. An encounter with an abused teenage girl from the nearby Magdalene Laundry, however, has him questioning his values. Tender and contemplative, this deserves to be a new Christmas classic.

Tracy Flick Can't Win by Tom Perrotta (2022): The ambitious, lonely teenage heroine of Election is now a forty-something vice-principal at a suburban New Jersey high school, expecting to become principal once her boss retires. The school board has more ambitious ideas, though, and once again she finds herself competing with a less qualified but more popular man. Times have changed since the novel was published in 1998, so it's no surprise that the sequel is gentler towards Tracy than the original (which at least raises the possibility that Tracy's ambition presents some legitimate threat, even though I think it ultimately answers that question in the negative). This approach could feel toothless, but it doesn't, because Tracy has lived a whole life since the events of the first novel and come out mature yet totally recognizable. Perrotta's best decision is making her a competent, reasonable, compassionate person...who's still kind of a mess. It works really well.

The Vaster Wilds by Lauren Groff (2023): Circa 1610, a servant girl escapes from the starving, disease-ridden Jamestown Colony into the Virginian wilderness, where she struggles against man and nature to survive. I did not enjoy this book so much. The style was overwrought, the author didn't seem to know the difference between Anglicans and Calvinists, and the message about colonialism was muddled.

Old Crimes by Jill McCorkle (2024): In the opening story of this collection, Lynn, a first-generation college student in the nineties, notices the cracks in her relationship with her upper-middle-class boyfriend when they go to stay in a dubious inn. For him, it's a novelty that would shock his uptight family's sensibilities; for her, it's an uncomfortable reminder of a past she almost didn't even think of escaping. At her best, McCorkle is one of the finest short story writers ever, and this is one of her best collections that I've read. She packs so much meaning into stories that seem simple and gravitas into stories that are funny.

[cantsayidont]

Moviez:

INHERENT VICE (2014): Excellent Paul Thomas Anderson adaptation of the 2008 Thomas Pynchon novel, a '70s hippie-stoner riff on Raymond Chandler's Philip Marlowe, starring Joachim Phoenix as pothead P.I. Doc Sportello, who is drawn into a complex scheme involving his ex-girlfriend Shasta (Katherine Waterston) and her missing real estate mogul boyfriend (Eric Roberts). Long and leisurely paced, retaining most of the novel's convoluted plot and a good deal of Pynchon's deadpan humor, INHERENT VICE is not nearly as bleak as the detective films of the era in which it's set (e.g., Robert Altman and Leigh Brackett's cruel 1973 adaptation of Chandler's THE LONG GOODBYE, to which both versions of VICE are often compared), but Anderson plays reasonably fair with the mystery, and, like the novel, treads a pleasingly considered line between the doomed romanticism of the genre's hard-boiled antecedents and wistful nostalgia for the dreams of a mostly vanished era. It's also one of Phoenix's career-best performances (although his gruesome muttonchops aren't easy to stomach), with a strong supporting cast (including Josh Brolin, Reese Witherspoon, Benicio Del Toro, and Martin Short), and Anderson makes the inspired decision to translate big chunks of the novel's third-person prose to a voiceover by Joanna Newsom (as Doc's hippie friend Sortilège). CONTAINS LESBIANS? In passing, courtesy of the ever-delightful Hong Chau. VERDICT: Extremely satisfying if you can tune into its particular wavelength — the only PTA film to date that I actually enjoy.

L.A. CONFIDENTIAL (1997): Glossy but annoyingly defanged Curtis Hanson adaptation of the hardboiled James Ellroy novel, about a battle of wills between three LAPD detectives — twitchy thug Bud White (Russell Crowe), slick hustler Jack Vincennes (Kevin Spacey), and brittle college boy Edmund Exley (Guy Pearce) — surrounding a high-profile robbery/homicide and its politically charged aftermath in 1953 Los Angeles. Highly acclaimed at the time, the film hasn't aged well: It's well-cast and well-acted, and it still looks great, but Hanson and Brian Helgeland's script excises about half of the novel's sprawling, squalid plot (sometimes neatly, sometimes not) and eventually squanders too much credibility trying to contrive a facile good-guys-vs.-bad-guys resolution, culminating in a preposterous new ending that ties everything up in a neat bow in ways the novel pointedly does not. (Ellroy has since disowned the film, although it's still better than the disastrous Brian De Palma adaptation of Ellroy's THE BLACK DAHLIA a decade later.) CONTAINS LESBIANS? Only fleetingly. VERDICT: Scaling down the novel's scope and nastiness isn't always a bad thing, but it sacrifices far too much moral complexity in the process.

LAST EXMAS (2024): Cute but very slight lesbian romcom about two former high school girlfriends (Elena Milo and Shaeane Jimenez), who are drawn together again when they both return to their small hometown for Christmas 10 years after their breakup. Appealing leads compensate some for the lulls in the sitcomish script and the frequent overacting of costar Raven Maducdoc, as a gossipy busybody the protagonists knew in high school. CONTAINS LESBIANS? Prominently! VERDICT: Never really departs from formula, but pleasant gay background noise for those who can't resist a seasonal glass of eggnog.

NEXT OF KIN (1982): Well-crafted if deliberately paced Australian horror-thriller about a young woman named Linda Stevens (Jackie Kerin) inheriting the small nursing home on her estranged mother's rural estate, which might be haunted. Has definite overtones of THE SHINING with a soupçon of PSYCHO, with strong atmosphere and a very '80s synth score by Klaus Schulze of Tangerine Dream, although the understated story withholds any real action until nearly the end, and the explosive finale (which loops back around to the opening scene) lacks a certain final punch. Kerin is very good — she's nearly the whole show — as is John Jarratt as Linda's hunky lunkhead ex-boyfriend, who's hoping for another shot. CONTAINS LESBIANS? No. VERDICT: Doesn't quite live up to its lofty modern critical standing, but an interesting, effective slow-burn thriller. CW for sexual assault near the end.

Teevee:

ANGELYNE (2022): Smugly malicious, fictionalized five-part pseudo-documentary about self-made Los Angeles celebrity Angelyne (here played by Emmy Rossum), whose cryptic self-promoting billboards and pink Corvettes were L.A. local color for years. There are several ways one could potentially approach Angelyne as a phenomenon, from a commentary on celebrities becoming famous for being famous to just leaning into her fantastical internal narrative like a Francesca Lia Block novel, but the show is mostly a mean-spirited, self-conscious period piece whose main object is to sneer contemptuously at self-deluded losers à la Paul Thomas Anderson's repulsive BOOGIE NIGHTS. There are occasional flashes of visual inspiration, like the "Galaxina" sequence in Ep. 3 and the fantasy sequences in the finale, but nothing in the story ever really justifies the nastiness of the narrative approach, which I found almost as off-putting as Rossum's lead performance, an unsympathetic caricature that becomes particularly indefensible in the final episode, dealing with Angelyne's generational trauma as the daughter of Holocaust survivors. CONTAINS LESBIANS? No. VERDICT: No matter how full of shit the real Angelyne might be, she's done nothing to deserve this sneering hatchet job.

THE FIRM (2012): Terrible one-season TV spinoff of the John Grisham legal thriller, with attorney Mitch McDeere (Josh Lucas) and his too-loyal wife Abby (Molly Parker) trying to rebuild their lives 10 years after bringing down Mitch's mobbed-up previous firm, only to find they've made some even more dangerous enemies. The first three-fourths of the season, with Martin Donovan and Tricia Helfer (of BATTLESTAR GALACTICA) as villains, is unbearably stupid and frequently offensive, and Mitch might well be the least competent TV defense lawyer in the entire history of the medium. The final half-dozen episodes, which shift focus to the mob catching up with Mitch, are better, but still not very good. Josh Lucas is a hopelessly uncharismatic lead, a real millstone around the show's neck; Callum Keith Rennie has charisma, but is hopelessly miscast as Mitch's ex-con brother/investigator, and Juliette Lewis is completely wasted as Mitch's sassy secretary. CONTAINS LESBIANS? No. VERDICT: Decidedly infirm. CW for an upsetting sequence in Ep. 14 where Abby is kidnapped and tortured.

[auntiebiotic]

Sniffany and the Nits are deranged, honest and fast. Formed in London, UK and led by the talented artist Sister Sniffany ft. members of Joanna Gruesome, Ex-Void & The Tubs.

"In 'Chicken Liver' I'm deeply jealous and competitive, desperately trying to present myself as vulnerable, served up on a platter like a chicken dinner as if helplessness is all that counts in order to make myself seem appealing, hiding the wrathful, egg-smashing fury of envy and self loathing."