April 20, 2008

VOLKSMUSIK

JAZZHAMMER. PRESENTS:
VOLKSMUSIK
54M 07S

Late 70's & early 80's German New Wave and other oddities in between.

01 Die Dominas - Herr Ralfi und Herr Karl
02 Joachim Witt - Kuwait
03 Neon Babies - Junge Männer
04 Thomas Voburka - Black Box
05 DMX Krew - The Glass Room
06 Grauzone - Wütendes Glas
07 D.A.F. - Alles ist Gut
08 Die Doraus - Nordsee
09 Die Doraus - Arrivederci
10 N.U. Unruh - Gott Sei's Getrommelt
11 Tuxedomoon - Driving to Verdun
12 Un Departement - A3
13 Classix Nouveaux - 623
14 1000 Ohm - AGNES
15 New Musik - Areas

Volksmusik Mix
192 KBPS | 74.0 MB
(right click save as)

Posted by Fran at 1:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

April 3, 2008

REGGAE MIX II

JAZZHAMMER. PRESENTS:
REGGAE MIX II
54M 36S

Why not?

01 Gladdy Anderson - Freebase
02 Freddie McGregor - Bobby Bobylon
03 The Jamaicans - Ba Ba Boom
04 Andy & Joey - You're Wandering Now
05 Prince Buster - Girl, Why Don't You Answer?
06 Delroy Wilson - Won't You Come Home?
07 Soul Vendors - Swing Easy
08 Don Drummond & The Skatelites - Cleopatra
09 Don Drummond - Surplus
10 The Itals - Dawn Patrol
11 Glen Brown - Tel Aviv Drums
12 The Techniques - Purify Dub
13 Keith Hudson - Darkest Night On A Wet Looking Road
14 Johnny Osborn - Right Right Time
15 Culture - Behold
16 Cedric 'IM' Brooks - Put It On
17 Tommy McCook - Jamaican Bolero

Reggae Mix II
192 KBPS | 74.7 MB
(right click save as)

Posted by Fran at 8:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

March 31, 2008

EAT, FOR THIS IS MY BODY

Ah, the art film. It takes a confrontational, yet charming, attitude to pull it off. Fortunately, Eat, For This Is My Body's director, Michelange Quay, has these qualities in spades. The opening sequence of this stunning film from Haiti will leave no doubt that this is what what he was meant to do.

The film starts off as a post-Koyaanisqatsi-slash-Michel-Gondry-Joga-music-video mélange as it sweeps into Haitian shores, over seemingly endless shantytowns, and finally through mountainous terrain; all while morphing-ethno-ballad-free-pop-jazz collides with the images. Calling this sequence a show-stopper does it injustice, as does all the descriptions I have used to explain it; for the real film has yet to even start.

Once we get the hang of things, we slowly become aware that we are being brought closer and closer to the people and culture of the country. After that incredible ride into the heart of Haiti, Quay progresses the film through a free-association style montage of moving water that constantly reminds the us of the effects of human culture and the incomparable power of nature. Ethnographic documentary footage of voodoo chanting and dancing follows. From this emerges another spellbinding image (a redundancy in this film): an older man in a trance-like state, dancing with a log lit on one end. He then proceeds to eat from the burning embers while he dances with an unforgettable piercing expression in his eyes.

This is a good time to point out that, no, the film really hasn't started yet.

Day breaks and we loosely follow a group of boys through beautiful Haitian terrain, into a colonial mansion, and finally into a room straight out of 2001: A Space Odyssey --yes, that room. And just like that, we are brought into another world --or rather, Quay's head. The real film begins here, some 30 minutes into it, and what we are presented is a mixture of the works of Matthew Barney and David Lynch.

If you are still reading this, then I guess neither name gets to you. Chances are there are more Lynch fans than Barney fans (including myself), and to me, this is the saving grace of the film. What follows are elaborate scenes that are reminiscent of those in Barney's Cremaster Cycle: completely elaborate conceptual scenes (read pretentious to some) that are loosely related and seem to allude to colonialization and race relations in Haiti. I am vague about this because Quay will never allow you to read anything definitive from this film (read pretentious to some) other than that the it deals with differences in the balance of power --his words. Scenes include those with an elderly woman confined to bed who recites a poem about her role as nature and the destruction caused by the hungry yearning for food. "...Eat, for this is my body," then, serves as a significant theme. Others include the group of boys and their white female headmaster. Again, themes of hunger and power are constantly reinforced. She is played by the gorgeous Sylvie Testud, who is on track to setting a remarkable career for herself. American audiences can recognize her in a supporting role in the automatically more straightforward La Vie en Rose.

Again, the Lynch-ian aspects of these scenes, direct focus on foreboding qualities objects and sound, save them and make them better than Barney's work (read pretentious to some). The most Barney-esque sequence of the film, one of grannies dj-ing while non-diagetic ethnic music that has been modernized with beats plays, fails miserably because, frankly, it is a lousy and pretentious idea. First of all, the point of the scene is too obvious; and second, even though it plays as good as it possibly can, an idea like that is nothing short of terrible. This is the kind of work done with good intentions, but with bad taste: the make or break of outsider art.

You should, however, ignore the fact that the film can be merely pretentious at times. I only pointed out that instance to be fair. This is, after all, Michelange Quay's first feature film, and the many overwhelmingly brilliant images that you will see completely warrant viewing and, more importantly, make you think; for you have no choice when narrative is this vague. Once Quay matures and has more control of his ego, he will surely do significant work in the cinematic arts. Remember his name.

Posted by Fran at 8:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

LOVE SONGS

From the city that wrote the book on love comes a musical about sex, love, and, um, sex.

It is best that I get this out of the way quickly, (trust me it won't hurt too much) so here goes: This film is completely flimsy and flaky. However, it knows this and does not care; and will spend every second of its running time trying to seduce you. If it were anything but French, it's persistence would seem awkward; but the film's joie de vivre can be contagious.

Love Songs is proud to show off how French it is. You can't blame it, Paris is like no other city in the world. This works exceedingly well in the cinematography: without even attempting to show-off any of the city's well known sights, Christophe Honoré keeps his scenes strictly in the neighborhood streets. When was the last time you saw a Parisian love story without seeing the Eiffel Tower? The end result is still more beautiful than the unlikely miracle Woody Allen was able to do with Manhattan; which in all fairness is a dump.

Just how French is this film? Well, every character is essentially a Ph.D. in literature and proud to show-off what they are reading. Having visited centers of culture such as the Musee D'Orsay and the Centre Pompidou, I have no problems forcing myself to believe it. As far as I am concerned, there are Parisians and then there are the uncultured. Unfortunately, this is where things start to go awry. Love Songs treats love the same way it treats its depicted literature: you only see the cover.

Granted, Love Songs is a musical, so we can't expect something with the depth of Kundera. However, there is such a thing as Umbrellas of Cherbourg. The filmmakers should know that the musical genre really has to tighten its focus on its characters in order to depict a realistic portrait of love. I can't imagine anybody really buying it in Love Songs despite the fact that the characters constantly sing about it. There are just too many people in the film and many get marginalized. Is Alice, who according to the trailer is a main character, really needed for any other reason than to pout her lips (ahem, her gorgeous lips), put her hands on her hips, and give approving "oh, you guys!" throughout the film? This treatment of characters (and believe me it gets absurd early on) is what makes the film seem shallow.

In addition, the seemingly main theme of bisexuality gets marginalized, as well, by the film's overzealous treatment of the characters and love. Maybe it is because I am heterosexual, but I believe that the film would be stronger if it had a clearer stance and meaning. If, perhaps, it is worried about coming off as too taboo, (which would explain the trailer's focus on the "hot threesome action" --but then that could be the Americanization of it) it shouldn't worry about it: if you are watching a French musical about love, I am going to take a wager that you are comfortable with your sexuality.

In all, I guess Love Songs follows its characters' mantra: breadth is more important than depth. Still, despite all of this, it is hard to hate gay Paris.

Posted by Fran at 7:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)