The Scholarship gets some love.

http://www.familytraveloutings.com/Lulu.html

The magazines should hit the newsstands in a matter of days.

A little pr for a good cause, me thinks.

Dardos

I have been remiss. I am hip deep in something that I really shouldn't talk about, so I won't because I like my work and I like the work I am doing at that work.
That said, this is a shout out to Aaron, who nominated me, along with others, for a blogging award. The Dardos.
I am supposed to accept it and pass it on to 5 others and I just don't have the time.
But, the reason he included mine is because of my "Listening Post" series. And, woe is me, there has been no work done on that front in a while.
But it isn't over.
No, far from it.
I am just getting ready for a new one. Can you believe?
And who will be the lucky recipient of my cloistered ears....?

This dude.


I promise. It's a hard promise (he he) considering my time constraints. But, it's coming.....
Stay tuned.....

Amateur Foodie: Blu Jam Cafe for Dinner - West Hollywood

Mama Mexico in NYC.
Rose Angelis in Chicago.
The Frontier in Albuquerque.
The Jordan Pond House in Maine.
Even Pearl's in Sonoma.
These are just a few of the restaurants that litter the canvas of my gastronomical map. The sorts of places that maybe don't get the kind of recognition they deserve.
The kind of places that you tell people they have to try when they are in that town. Because the pineapple tequila at Mama Mexico is wacky greatness. Or the popovers at Jordan Pond House are the lightest and fluffiest in the world. Or the homemade ravioli stuffed with pears in an alfredo/pesto sauce at Rose Angelis is worth flying across the country for when they notify you by email that they are making it that weekend.
There's one that needs to be added to that ever growing list and I've blogged about it before here
But this sidewalk breaky cafe, so well known and reviewed for their early morning cuisine just blew us away.
Again.
Yes, I'm talking about Blu Jam on Melrose.
On Fridays, Chef Kamil Mejur has opened his restaurant for a one night a week, single themed experience. every Friday its something new.
But it's only on Fridays and we haven't been able to get to it, yet. And then we heard about the special Valentine's menu. Saturday night, which was also our anniversary (long story). So we made reservations. And, knowing that the no corkage fee for the night was going to mean downing a hefty bottle of Sonoma Merlot, we cabbed it over.
The trouble with Kamil's menu is that you can rest assured that everything will be good. This renders a choice whore like myself unable to decide on what to get.
So we tried the chef's tasting menu.
And, holy crap.
While we waited we, and everyone, were treated to a creamy and delectable olive tapenade that put to shame the tapenades we get excited about when we are in Wine Country.
Opening with a beautiful circle of Tuna Tartare in dressing and wrapped around avocado we knew we were in for something special.
It's worth noting at this point that Chef Kamil was also the Maitre D' for the night, his bus staff having called in sick. So, while he was running around, seating everyone and making sure we were all happy, he was also in the kitchen preparing upwards of 12 or 13 different entrees as well as the cornucopia for the greedy tasters such as ourselves.
After a while we were treated to a plate of marinated goat cheese in vinegar and cherry tomato, possibly the least attractive dish that also melted in our mouths and vanquished the earlier, much more dynamic, fish.
Then the "tower of vegetables", a perfect circle topped and bottomed with yellow beets. In between a perfect melange of roasted red bell peppers, feta cheese and avocado (a theme, perhaps?). I hate beets. I don't loathe them but I don't eat them. And yet, the way they were prepared the nuttiness of the root was drawn out and playfully danced in concert with the peppers and cheese.
The spoon that was placed on my table was a surprise. Not a soup spoon, I had no idea what to expect when the bowl of braised mussels in a cilantro tomato broth arrived. Beth is not too keen on mussels and I was expecting to down this myself. But one taste from her and she was a convert. This was the spiciest of the dishes of the evening and a great way to say farewell to the appetizers. The spices bounced off the back of my tongue and throat and quickly disappeared cleansing the palette while at the same time preparing me for bolder and richer flavors.
Which followed in the form of a perfectly crusted whitefish on a bed of whipped potatoes and spinach. This immediately took me back to my honeymoon when Beth and I had dinner at the exquisite Oceana and we talked about the Loup de Mer for months afterwards. I dare say this was better.
The steak that followed was almost a denouement on it's thatched bed of pomme frits and vegetable strips. Not that it wasn't perfectly seasoned and melted like butter. It just wasn't AS fantastic and amazing as the whitefish. I understand why it followed and I don't regret it at all. Nor do I think it was a mistake for it to be the capper of the entrees, it's just, well, damn, that fish was perfect.
Tres Laiche cake followed and the wet, almost amaretto-esque bath it created with every carving of our forks turned us into lip licking heathens hell bent on devouring every morsel.
Maybe I could have done without the cheese plate that ended our culinary journey. I don't know. I'm just not a big cheese as dessert fan. And the most pungent of them (by this time I was too drunk to remember the name) was, as the chef said, much much better when mixed with the cranberry chutney. And who doesn't love roasted walnuts with creamy feta? But, like I said, the cake was enough.
Kamil, in his jeans and conductor's cap and sneakers managed a few minutes with each of us and we talked wine. He is also an accomplished sommelier. When I expressed my love for a particular Grenache (Mathis Grenache, the best wine I have ever had) Kamil vanished and reappeared moments later with the remnants of a french Grenache blend from Domaine De la Pertuisane. Le Nain Violet would put up a good fight with the Mathis.
We offered Kamil a glass of our Gloria Ferrer Merlot and he politely declined. I think he felt sorry for us with our domestic grape water as he re-emerged as we were getting our bill with a bottle of Briccotondo as a gift for us. I think we will probably bring it BACK and drink it at our next dinner at Blu Jam,
Our new favorite dinner restaurant in Los Angeles. Sorry, Little Door.

Jukebox the Ghost: Live at the Museum of Natural History

Simulblogged at www.popdose.com


Last year I had the good fortune to discover a band before almost anyone else. Before they blew up. In the case of Jukebox the Ghost there’s still time. If you listen and love them now you will be in that special crowd of musical geekdom: the “I knew them when” crowd.
For me, unearthing a gem of a band is a bi-polar experience. I want to shout to the rafters about the band, and I do, anywhere I can. And then, after they have been embraced by masses, there is usually a twinge of loss. That they aren’t mine anymore.
When I was a teen this was because the music I loved helped me define myself. And since the band was different, unique, special, then it would follow that I must be as well.
At the same time, though, while experiencing the loss of my secret, self-clarifying touchstone, I am buoyed and elated by their success and thrilled when it happens for them. Mostly because it means there will be more music from the group and better concerts and also because it vindicates my taste and proves that, well, why not say it? I was right.
All of this brings me to Jukebox the Ghost and their live performance at The Museum of Natural History in Los Angeles.
But, first, a little history.

The Washington D.C. trio, Jukebox the Ghost, first came to my attention by way of the blog-o-sphere. I spent much of 2007 reading blogs like The Underrated Blog, My Old Kentucky Blog, Ickmusic, etc, downloading sample singles and letting those tastemakers be the arbiters of my new musical knowledge. It reminded me much of when I was younger and underground ‘zines like the estimable and legendary Trouser Press heralded the coming of U2, months before Boy was released, or touted the new romantic sound of Duran Duran as they began to make noise in England, eons before Rio or Hungry Like the Wolf. The music offered for download was like the plastic flexi-disc cutout from that magazine only instead of one per month, blogs provide hundreds of choices per month.
I can’t recall just what made me decide to listen to “Good Day” and “Hold it In”, the singles offered by JtG on whatever blog they appeared on. By the time I heard them I wasn’t reading the blogs anymore just using the program Peel to sift through the morass of music. It might have been the weird name. At first I thought it was a typo. The Jukebox Ghost sounded more like it. Suitably Indie. But, in retrospect, had it been named that I probably would have been turned off; most likely a band named The Jukebox Ghost is an ethereal, synth laden, semi-goth experience. Jukebox the Ghost brings to mind a jester spectre. Jughead to Caspar’s Archie.
Whatever it was, I was not prepared for what I was hearing. Both singles are rich wordplay confections that excite as much as they beg for replay. The music is as honest as it is simple. Each tune has that nugget of a hook, a moment that brings you back, the handclap you wait for in anticipation, or a chorus that thrills when you listen and thrills you more when you learn the words and sing along.
This is good stuff, I thought. And my family did as well. After we downloaded the album from iTunes, Let Live and Let Ghost, the debut album, made it into heavy rotation at breakfast, in the car, during lazy Sunday music filled mornings.
The rest of the album didn’t disappoint I should say. Ambitious is the precise word I would use while describing it. The two part suite of “My Heart’s the Same” and “Lighting Myself On Fire” are followed by a THREE part suite about the end of the world. The troika of “Fire in the Sky”, “Where Have All the Scientists Gone?” and “A Matter of Time”, where God takes a good look at earth and decides to destroy it, a fable that is actually quite hopeful. And funny. Jukebox the Ghost are nothing if not funny.
But this isn’t a Presidents of the United States of America funny. It’s not cheeky Bowling for Soup funny. Its not a snarky funny. The trio of Ben Thornewill on Piano and vocals, Tommy Siegel on Guitar and vocals and Jesse Kristin on drums bring a goofy, Indie outlook to their songs. Like on the chorus of “Hold it In”, the most infectious single track where Ben sings, “Life is: [clap clap clap] Oh, my God, if I tell him, he’ll tell her and then she will know I like her! Good grief, I don’t think that I can take this heartbreak any longer!” Charlie Brown was never so clear about his fear of the red headed girl as JtG are here.
It would be one thing if the word-smithing was all this band was about. Plenty of other great groups have leaned heavier on their lyrics than their music or musical ability. Somehow, JtG have managed to bridge the over the top theaterics of Queen, with soaring falsettos, classicly trained piano playing and guitar licks that Brian May used to employ back in the 70s and merged it with the intimately youthful exuberance of Ben Folds best work of the 90s. Toss in a dash of Oingo Boingo (believe it) and this band has crafted a sound so new and so familiar at the same time.
Word came through the band’s MySpace site that they would be (finally!) playing in Los Angeles. At, of all places, the Museum of Natural History as one of the featured bands during the First Friday event that the museum holds. It’s a hipster affair where the museum is turned into a culture-fest/nightclub. Amidst a guided tour of the Paleontology exhibit and the author led discussion, Evolution: What the Fossils Say and Why it Matters” with Dr. Don Prothero, on the first floor the main attraction is the concert series.
In the great mammal hall, where stuffed bison and other ominous red-blooded beasts we have conquered reside, a stage is set for a festival seated, general admission audience. The show is projected on the wall in the anteroom outside the hall near the lobby and wine drinking Indie poppers sway and chatter the night away.
For those of us who found our way into the main room we were treated to a claustrophobic, over heated, fan-less room, fronted by a stage no where near high enough for a piano led band to be seen.
Jukebox the Ghost was, to my chagrin, not the main attraction. I should have known better, considering the bill, but I am not a fan of The Bird and the Bee. Although, I am glad that such a darling of the Indie community would be the reason so many got to see the better of the two bands. (It’s not quite fair for me to say; we didn’t stay for Bird)
There was a palpable mix of interest and apathy in the room. As the band was introduced it was obvious that there were some in the audience that were “in the know”. And the curious around us were very forgiving, withholding judgment until they gave the band a chance. One thing I do appreciate about the modern fan is the abject willingness to accept the “new.” It seems that bands are given the chance to succeed ofrfail on their own merit and that judgment is reserved; As though these music lovers are so passionate and hungry that they seek out rather than dismiss.
Of course, the back of the room was a din of conversation. So, the battle was on; the band up on their dais, out to conquer the uninitiated and the hipsters who were just in the room to save their place for the band they really were there to see.
Jukebox the Ghost opened their set with “Under My Skin”, one of the more accessible songs from the first half of the album, the more poppy, radio-ready side.
It was about this time that the guys in front of us who were gently swaying to the song which is about as unswayable a tune as I would imagine, turned to ask us, “Who are these guys?” We smiled and told them and went back to singing along.
Then Ben and the boys did something I would never imagine doing when I was in a band. They launched into not one, but two songs from their new, as yet unrecorded new album. “Empire” and “Ghosts” were remarkable choices considering they are wholly unfamiliar. Poppy, yes. And well within the idiom of the band, but why, when their cover of “A Beautiful Life” from the Guilt By Association compilation from last year would be more easily endearing, did they make their second AND third salvo total unknowns? Even the newish track, “Mistletoe”, that has been making the rounds among fans for the past few months, would have seemed a safer choice.
But this is, as I have already implied, an audacious trio.
No sooner did they right their ship with the familiar “Victoria”, a track that has been getting a modicum of radio play way at the left of the dial, then they launched into BOTH of the epic album suites. Back to back.
And they sounded amazing. Considering the challenging acoustics of the room, Thornewill’s falsettos were spot on. The harmonies were devastatingly glorious intervals amidst a palette of almost operatic pop epics.
By the time they started to bring it home with those well blogged tunes, “Hold it In” and “Good Day”, their job was complete. The audience had caught on and were catching on to the choruses. The clatter of conversation in the back had reduced itself to a low drone. And the previously curious and ignorant were raising their hands in time and tempo and cheering as though they had just discovered their new favorite band.
As we made our way out of the hall, past the outstretched queue of fans waiting to be let in for The Bird and the Bee we spent a few minutes chatting with Ben and Tommy. Unassuming and without pretension as they were I left wondering if they knew just how affecting their performance was.
They are coming back to Los Angeles in May. We are already marking our calendar.

Bruce Springsteen Working on a Dream

Bruce Springsteen - Working on a Dream (buy it)


I haven't weighed in on my own blog about the new Springsteen. I've sat with it for a while and I've read more estimable reviewers than myself.
I've commented on the PopDose blog about it. I commented on The Screen Door blog. And I've called in to Sound Opinions.
I've also rated it on facebook and I'm here to tell you that I am not going to do a full review.
Because the album isn't worth my time.
It's almost execrable dog shit.
Instead of a full review I will give you my standard A, Blind and Down sides and I will point you in the direction of a much more forgiving review than I would like.
The Screen Door is an excellent blog and the author is a fan so he is more forgiving of the Boss than I think he should be.
That review is here.

In a fully self-aggrandizing way I direct you to that blog because the author also posted my comment as his "email of the day." Here is that comment:

As often happens when a Springsteen fan reviews one of his lesser albums, the author is way to forgiving. I am a longtime Bruce listener. I came to his work just as BitUSA was cresting and I went deep into the back catalog after that.The bounty that was the earlier albums gave way to disappointment throughout the rest of the next two decades.The Rising was a shining beacon that RoboBruce had found his way.Magic was meh but then there came Working on a Dream.Traditionally, Bruce is at his worst when he is left alone or sans the E-Street Band. It's when he depends on people that he has no real relationship with that his music truly suffers.On WoaD he is back with the E Street Band but there's a difference. This sounds like nobody was in the studio at the same time.It sounds pasted together.And it sounds like nobody turned to Bruce and said, "Dude. You wrote Rosalita. You wrote Born to fucking Run. You wrote Born in the USA. Point Blank. Independence Day. Badlands. Atlantic City, and so many other. Dude. Outlaw Pete is the worst piece of shit you have ever recorded and you did a rendition of Pony Boy." To open the album with this turd is to defecate all over the rest of the disc. It can never recover and it never does. But, sadly, most Bruce lovers will let him off the hook. I'm here to tell you that he shouldn't be.


This is a terrible record. Made worse by the fact that it is callous and predictable AND employs the E Street Band. Queen of the Supermarket is so deplorable that Bruce should offer free tickets to shows if anyone can sing the entire song without laughing or throwing up. I am embarrassed by this mess. You are a terrific writer and reviewer. You shouldn't let him off this hook. Beat him up a little. He deserves it for this one.

Grade D

A Side: My Lucky Day & The Wrestler & Working on a Dream. (By the numbers but they work
Blind Side: nothing, you've heard this before.
DownSide: Outlaw Pete, Queen of the Supermarket, Good Eye, What Love can Do........

Explaining my monkey

list, actually.
I love being a part of the Monkey Mixx, because I used to love LOVE making mix tapes. Then Discs. And now, I just love turning people on to music.
The theme was simple. Numbers. That's all. Songs had to have numbers incorporated somewhere.

Here are mine:

01 - My Hero, Zero - Lemonheads
I adore Schoolhouse Rock and way back when I was reviewing albums for Home Theater magazine I received the Schoolhouse Rocks Rocks CD. It was relatively hit or miss, but I liked this version of this song. My intent was to go in order of 0-5, but I lost interest in that. My Hero, Zero was one of the episodes that I never saw, so the song was newish to me.

02 - One More Minute - Weird Al
This is one of the greatest comedic songs written and almost no one knows it. It's not a parody of anything, it's just done in a 50s style and it's brilliant. You need to add this to your musical lexicon.

03 - Death on 2 Legs - Queen
Still trying to do it in order, let's face it, it's not a playlist by me unless there's some Queen somewhere.

04 - Three Small Words - Josie and the Pussycats
Suck it, I like this tune. It's my ringtone for my wife, who LOVES it. It's catchy and disposable. Like bubblegum ought to be.

05 - Sixty-eight Guns - The Alarm
It occured to me that I hadn't heard this one in a while, so I imagine many people might have forgotten the lads who wished they were u2. At the time my roommate and I agreed that this album was one of the greatest debuts of all time.

06 - Julia, we don't live in the 60's - The Indelicates
It's important that a list have at least one band no one knows. The blog, Song, By Toad, turned me on to the Indelicates. Their music sounds more like dangerous musical theater, almost grand guignol in it's attitude of contempt. I love them. I think you will, too. Except that this song sounds so much like The Jam's That's Entertainment I think they should pay royalties to Paul Weller. Or Peter Weller. Robocop needs love, too.

Go Here and download all of mine plus everyone else's list as well. And keep reading because my Monkey Mixx is due up soon and I really want you guys to participate.




(One more Minute link)

Another Monkey Mixx!

Go to iSplotchy's page to download my contributions to the latest Monkey Mix. I WILL get an explanation up on here. Truth be told, I forgot about it and Splotch just surprised us with posting it.
Stay tuned and get the tunage.

Knee Jerkin the Oscar Pix

Sorry, Geeks. I guess your triumph is limited to dollars as TDK was all but snubbed.
My knee Jerk picks are in bold. My strong seconds are italicized.
It's Oscar Season. Let's roll.

Supporting Actress (The Toss Up category)
Amy Adams in Doubt
Penelope Cruz in Vicky Christina Barcelona
Viola Davis in Doubt
Marisa Tomei in The Wrestler
Tarajip Henson in Benjamin Button

Supporting Actor (The Gimmes)
Josh Brolin in Milk
Robert Downey Jr. in Tropic Thunder
Philip Seymour Hoffman in Doubt
Michael Shannon in Revolutionary Road
Heath Ledger in The Dark Knight

Best Actress (The battle of the perennials)
Anne Hathaway in Rachel Getting Married
Melissa Leo in Frozen River
Meryl Streep in Doubt
Kate Winslet in The Reader
Angelina Jolie in The Changeling

Best Actor (The Nobles)
Richard Jenkins in The Visitor
Frank Langella in Frost/Nixon
Brad Pitt in Benjamin Button
Sean Penn in Milk
Mickey Rourke in The Wrestler

Director (The Revenge of the 90s)
David Fincher
Ron Howard
Gus Van Sant
Stephen Daldry
Danny Boyle

Original Screenplay (The Consolation Prize)
Frozen River
Happy-Go-Lucky
Milk
Wall-E (The fuck you, actually. The scripts is sparse I might have to flip)
In Bruges

Adapted Screenplay (The Progenitor)
Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Doubt
Frost/Nixon
Slumdog Millionaire
The Reader

Foreign Film (The Oscar Pool Pick 'em)
The Baader Meinhoff Complex
The Class
Departure
Revanche
Waltz with Bashir

Animated (The most annoying category)
Bolt
Kung Fu Panda
Wall-E

Best Picture (The Revenge of the Filmmaker)
Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Frost/Nixon
Milk
The Reader
Slumdog Millionaire

At this moment in time, I'm gonna say I'm right about this.

For the Frog

Sam Frog, this is for you.


Star Wars: Retold (by someone who hasn't seen it) from Joe Nicolosi on Vimeo.

Listening Post: AC/DC Black Ice

Hey, guess what? It's time for another Listening Post. Well, not really. This is just an update. Go back into the archives and check out the AC/DC retro from last summer. Since then the boys from down under put out a new album, refused to sell tracks on iTunes, sold a monster amount and actually found me devil horning in concert at The Forum. So, how is the new one?


AC/DC - Black Ice - 2008 (buy it...at Wal-Mart)

It's good. Okay? Is it Back in Black? Guess what I'm gonna say?

You're wrong.




Gotcha. No. you're right. It's not better than BiB. But it is the best album of theirs since then. Go back and look at those reviews. After BiB it's a vast wasteland of shit. And then along comes BI and I gotta tell ya: Big Jack? With his big sack? yeah, he kicks ass. Anything Goes? It's like revisiting The Cars by way of metal.
The biggest problem with Black Ice? it's too long. Yep. That's right. it's too long by more half.
The greatest albums of the 70s were 35-40 minutes tops. AC/DC's were note perfect examples of this.
Then the CD came in and everything HAD to be 60+ minutes. Well, as a song writer, i will tell you that I don't have 60 minutes of top notch music in me. I can pull off 30. Like a stand up who has 20 great minutes but when pressed for a longer set, he falls apart, that's what the CD did to music.
And you don't have 70 minutes to devote to an album. You have 40. Twenty on the way to work and twenty on the way home.
That's perfect.
Chop off Rock and Roll Dream, a meandering, semi plodding, 80s-esque retread. Dump the insipid Smash and Grab.....you get the point.

Black Ice is a really good AC/DC album. Pound for Pound it's right up there with Highway to Hell, the weakest of the Bon Scott offerings (if that's the weakest, this band was doing something right.)

If you like the formula, you will dig the rekkid.

Grade B+
A-Side: Rock n Roll Train, Money Made, Big Jack, Anything Goes, Black Ice, War Machine
BlindSide: Too early for that, folks.
Downside: Smash and Grab, Spoiling for a Fight, Rock n Roll Dream, She likes Rock n Roll, oh, heck, they aren't downsides as much as they weight the album down. Drop two more and the album is spectacular.