by carl wilson

Thursday Reading: Take Me Out


They still aren't the new Beatles, but I may have to reconsider my complete apathy towards Franz Ferdinand now that drummer Paul Thomson has proclaimed their love for the Barcelona Pavilion in today's Now Magazine, even wisely singling out (by its opening Fall quotation) the New Materiology single, which was also the drug of choice for the late, great John Peel.

And how's that for a segue: Today's John Peel Day! Sure it's evening, but there's still time to get your teenage kicks: The Guardian has a festschrift's worth of articles. Thinking of Peel raises my objections to this new me-myself-and-iPod era in which we're all supposed to be our own DJs - whether it was Peel or Brent Bambury or fill-in-your-local-hip-radio-personality-here, the warm intimate tones of a trusted disembodied voice remains the most soulful means of being introduced to undreamt-of music, second only to mainlining via friends and lovers. And yeah, I do mean that radio is better than mp3 blogs. Will podcasts be able to fill that void? To some degree, maybe, but the fragmentation that accompanies it as a medium partakes as much of alienation as of communalism. But we'll see what develops - if it can be arranged so that John Sakamoto can play whole tracks without getting special permission from a label, that will be a step. I don't always want to be my own DJ, anymore than I want to grow my own food or be my own garbageman. This means, somewhat to the chagrin of my teenage-anarchist self, that I am essentially pro-civilization. Sometimes the cyberweb seems to have other ideas. (Though not the same other ideas as these folks.)

Also in the weeklies in Toronto today: Wolf Parade don't believe their own hype (no, really!); Adult. questions the guitar=rock equation; Elliott Brood, um, broods; are Les Angles Morts the Arcade Fire's equivalent of Pete Best and Stu Sutcliffe (or is that just more A.F. snake oil? see Wolf Parade, above).

Tim Perlich Crank Watch: Yeah, right, people who want to see a Matthew Barney frigging film are going to be "driven away" by Bjork's music. Has Perlich ever seen a Barney film? "Beatless and creepy" is nothin' compared to a giant football field of descending testicles.

And last but far from least, how galactic formation relates to chord changes. That one relates to this weekend's fascinating-sounding Gravitas event at the Music Gallery, an all-too-rare marriage of science and art in which composer-improvisor John Kameel Farah will accompany animated visualizations of "the dynamics of galaxies using supercomputer simulations" created by astronomer John Dubinski. I can't make the gig, dammit, but many people should. (Likewise to Sunday's Damo Suzuki show with members of Broken Social Scene and Do Make Say Think!)

Plus: Everybody's talkin' bout bagism, shaggism, thisism, thatism, and as usual about M.I.A., this time for licensing Galang to Honda, slapping her with her "don't sell out to product pushers" line. I refer you back to Eppy's reading of that song and that line as a self-conscious contradiction in a dialogic soliloquy, and ahead to DJ/Rupture's 10-Step Guide to Selling Out.

Story of the week, though, is probably the great J.T. LeRoy literary hoax. Or "lifestyle," as one possible perp puts it. Whoa. Not that it's entirely unexpected, but its overall success (movie deals, etc.) is on a historic scale. I think the logical next step is for other people autonomously to begin writing "J.T. Leroy" books, converting it into a diffused multiple name a la Karen Eliot/Monty Cantsin/Luther Blissett. Let her/him/them sue, and then we'll have some fun.

Housekeeping: A complete Zoilus Toronto Gig Guide update for late Oct. and early Nov. should roll out in the next 24 hours or so.

Oh! And BIG UPS and congratu-fucking-lations to Harold Pinter for winning the 2005 Nobel Prize!!! They sure got this one right. I love his response too: "I think the world has had enough of my plays."

The Writ | Posted by zoilus on Thursday, October 13 at 06:15 PM | Linking Posts | Comments (2)



There are no fights. No words exchanged. There are no drunken fools. Sure, you're joestoe joestoe going to get one every now and then, but we've come a long way

Posted by joestoe on November 4, 2005 05:01 PM



"Has Perlich ever seen a Barney film? "Beatless and creepy" is nothin' compared to a giant football field of descending testicles."

Actually, the creepiest thing about Drawing Restraint 9 is a sequence in which Bjork and Barney, neck deep in water and clad in elaborate faux-Japanese ceremonial garb, carve the flesh from each other's bodies. Really. Given that much of the film takes place on a whaling ship, I'm guessing it's their way of saying, "Save the whales!" But that's just a guess.

Posted by J.D. Considine on October 14, 2005 06:49 PM




Zoilus by Carl Wilson