Saturday was rather Action-Packed! Well, at least for me, anyway. Captain Jeff of the Jeff Brigade, The Mike & I were to make a tactical strike on Devonshire Mall in Windsor, in order to obtain more Stuff, cos, well, our lives are ruled by it. Jeff was on the hunt for a DVD copy ov eXistenZ, as well as the latest Dears Cd; Mike wanted to buy a copy ov Vidocq, and I was looking for any affordable DVDs on my List ov Must-Buys, as well as my usual haul ov strange Canadian potato chips, my favourites being Miss Vickies’ Sea salt & Malt vinegar, and Ruffles All-dressed. What do you want, I’m a potato chip conneiseur. As it turned out, Mike couldn’t make it cos he was up all night rearranging his room, so Jeff & I departed sans one ov our raiding party.

Jeff duly obtained his swag, and I went a little nuts with my acquisition:
+ Natural born killers: the Director’s Cut DVD
+ ABBA: The winner takes it all DVD
+ Bill & Ted’s Bogus journey DVD
+ a double DVD case, to replace one I have where the centre sprickets self-destructed
+ a copy ov Marc Almond’s autobiography, on clearance for $1 CD
+ three bags ov Miss Vickies’ Sea salt chips
+ one bag ov Miss Vickies’ Sea salt & Malt vinegar chips
+ two bags ov Ruffles All dressed
A bit much? Perhaps. But keep in mind the US dollar to Canadian dollar exchange rate is still five kinds ov ace, so I only really spent about $50 USD. Plus, what’s the point ov shopping in another country if you don’t really buy anything? We dinna find Vidocq, so Mike’s just gonna have to order it online like I did, the poor bastard..

Later that eve, I got round to Mike’s, to punch him in the ballbag for staying up so late, and to wait for Tim & his pal Jason to materialise, in order to go see the faint perform at the Majestic theatre. My reaction to hearing that they were coming to town was initially lukewarm — I think they’re kinda cool, but not enough to actually buy any ov their Cds, plus I hadn’t heard a single track off their latest release, ‘Wet from birth’ — but when Tim & I last met up a month or so ago, he mentioned that there’d be free tickets involved, so that swayed my decision.. As it turned out, there were only enough tickets for three people. Mike was magnanimous enough to let me have the third ticket, as ‘you know more about the band than I do’, he said. We were fairly certain there’d be tickets available at the door, anyway..

We drove downtown to the locale, and were pretty fucking surprised to see that the line to get in was a block long about an hour before the doors opened at 9pm. None ov us had thought the faint was that popular.. Since the tour wasn’t rolling thru Ohio, I reasoned that there were travelers from Ohio present as well.
Let me take a moment to bask in the images ov the throngs ov cute goth & electroclash girls that were there. Ahhh. Right, I’m done. 🙂
So we ambled to what we thought was the end ov the line, but it turned out that instead ov wrapping around the block, it continued across the street about twenty people in length. Yeah, we were in for a wait, alright.. But the fun really kicked in when they opened the doors, and one ov the security blokes told everyone with tickets to go on in, which ov course left Mikey outside. Tim, Jason & I waited inside near the doors for about ten minutes, when we noticed Mike motioning for us to come over. Apparently the box office sold the last ticket to the bloke right in front ov Mike. OH NOES!!1! Jason had given Mike a $20 to slip the door girl, as ‘she looked like she could be bribed’, but just as Mike took the $20, the guy who was behind him in line a couple ov paces back told him, ‘Dude, they’ve got more tickets now! I just got one! Go get in line!’ And sure as there’s shit in the cat, Mike managed to buy one. How were more ov them suddenly available? We don’t know. Perhaps it was a Sign from God. *snickering*

The first opening act, Beep beep, went on about 10pm. They’re labelmates ov the faint, and christ in shitty knickers, they sucked. Picture a blend ov the bad parts ov Gang of Four (who I never liked to begin with) and Buzzcocks, all topped off with a vocalist that was actually shrieking the lyrics instead ov screaming. Shrieking only works if you’re in a Noize band, or if you’re Diamanda Galas. Plus the guitarist kept rocking violently from side to side with a glazed stare, his mouth wide open in a frozen smile. He was truly the Best Mannequin on Drugs guitarist in a spaz-rock band that I’d ever encountered. In short, if you have the opportunity to see Beep beep live, throw things at them. Heavy things. Aim for their heads.

An hour later, after an extended session ov the soundcheck guy incessantly testing every microphone on stage by bellowing ‘Heyyy-UP’ into them, TV on the radio went on. They weren’t altogether bad. They were like Living colour with more ov a shoegazer-style guitar attack, except for that one song they did that sounded rather like New order. The four ov us, as well as the rest ov the crowd, were summarily impressed. In fact, most ov the crowd seemed to already know about TV on the radio, as a number ov people were singing along with some ov the songs. Any group that has both ov their guitarists as well as their bassist continually playing five inches from their amps for Better Feedback Power gets a thumbs-up from me..

Round midnight, the faint finally took the stage. Put simply, even if you’re lukewarm like I am about their music, everyone should see them live. The new album is less new wave-y than Danse macabre, but they still definitely have a sleazy and illicit vibe to them. The faint is a band that makes electronic dance music. They will make you dance, plain and simple, and you won’t be able to stop yourself. It was interesting to note that the band spent a lot ov time dancing themselves, especially Jake, who kept strutting away from his keyboard. Also, I was actually in a mosh pit for the first time in about a decade, and I had a hell ov a time! It was all because ov THE FAINT. (Ov course it could be argued that it wasn’t a real mosh pit. I mean, we’re talking the faint here, not Ministry.) A fine show, a fine show. It’s almost enough to make me start wearing eyeliner again..

A summation: Saturday was pretty fab! Although standing for an hour in line, then standing for another five hours in Converse All-stars, isn’t a good idea

No no; you’re mistaken, it’s always been ‘the Weekly Recommendation’. Always. What is this ‘Wednesday Recommendation’ you speak ov? No, the segment’s called ‘the Weekly Recommendation’. Weekly. Yes. DON’T QUESTION ME!

WHAT D’YE CALL IT? A necktie, a tie, a cravat, etc

A ‘NECK WHAT’? IS THAT SOME SORT OF DUCK? Nooooo, a necktie. I suppose, in a pinch, you could put them under the heading ov ‘accessories’, but I’d hardly associate them with hats, gloves & shoes

WHY ARE YOU RECOMMENDING THIS TO ME, THE SEXY AND NUBILE READER OF ‘SHOUTING TO HEAR THE ECHOES’? Because a tie can add up to +15 Coolness Factor to anyone. See what it did for these lads? A tie can do the same for you.

I would have to say that one ov the few positive things that I got out ov nine years ov catholic school, apart from a raging, unbridled hatred ov christianity (and a love for catholic schoolgirl uniforms), would be an fine appreciation ov the necktie. I think I was probably like any kid when I’d started wearing them, hating this thing, this bizarre & useless strip ov fabric round my neck. Well, actually, on my collar, as we were issued clip-on ties in gradeschool, which would understandably be enough to make anyone rebel against the concept ov ties, provided they didn’t know that real ties existed. But over time, and especially round late 9th grade, when my sense ov fashion started to congeal into what(ever) it is now, my affinity for ties grew. Since our school dress code required boys to wear shortsleeved Polo or imitation-Polo shirts, I often found myself wearing ties with my button-down dress shirts outside ov school, as wearing a tie with a Polo shirt is just fucking stupid. I tended to favour a burgundy knit tie with a squared-off bottom, then I moved up to a charcoal grey knit tie, which I still wear to this day. In my mind, a tie completes the ‘uniform’ dress sense that I still use and abuse at my considerable age.
I don’t own a lot ov ties — six, at current count — but I wear the shit out ov the ones I have. Part ov the reason that I don’t have an armada ov neckties is that I’m very particular about the type ov cravat I’ll buy. Being a child ov the 80s, the only ones I’ll don are skinny ties that are no wider than 2 inches. And no, I don’t have the one with the piano keys on it; even I have to draw the line somewhere.

Most blokes, by & large, abhor wearing ties, and once the clock strikes 4pm, they’ll rip that sucker off their necks as soon as they physically can. It could be argued that the necktie is synonymous with the workaday world, and once the work day’s done, it’s time to cut loose and par-tay, and you can’t very well do that with a tie on. Due to my naturally contrarian nature — heh — I personally find habitually dressing in a t-shirt & jeans to be rather uncomfortable and awkward, and since I don’t have enough necklaces and pendants to go round, that means it’s time for ties. Ties give a person a professional appearance, no matter what you’re doing — look at the film ‘Reservoir dogs’, or the Crazy 88s from ‘Kill Bill’, as examples — and I always think a nice slim tie on a lass is sssexy. Just because you’re sporting a necktie doesn’t make you yuppie scum, and thank Odhinn for that..

O, and I should mention that I will have no truck whatsoever with bowties. Bowties are an abberation, and are almost thoroughly useless. I hated them before I did a three-year tour ov duty as an usher at a movie theatre, and I hate them now. I would sooner wear one ov those hideous Don Cherry-style dress shirts with the heavily-starched oversized mutant collar before I wear a bowtie ever again

WHAT WOULD BE YOUR FAVOURITE BIT(S)? The, err, Windsor knot

SHOULD I EVEN ASK ABOUT A LINK? If I were you, I wouldn’t

NEXT WEEK: Vowels, rampant and unrestrained, battling a scourge ov consonants

I’d have to say that the one way that the tragedies ov 9/11 have affected me on a personal & immediate level is that I can no longer drive out to Metro or City airport to hang out in the lobby and take photos ov the architecture. I’m a sucker for post-Modern buildings — I dig Ballardian structures like car parks, airports, subway stations.. if there’s concrete and/or glass involved, chances are I’ll love it. The city in Jacques Tati’s ‘Playtime’ is an excellent example, as seen here.

(I’d like to add here that finding stills ov the legendary ‘Tativille’, as the set was dubbed, is unnecessarily difficult, so do yourself a favour, and visit the site..)

One ov the things I never really got a chance to do a whole lot was motor out to Metro Airport and spend the day there, taking photos and people-watching, as it was too far ov a drive for me at the time. (Still too far, actually..) I could’ve gone to City more often, I suppose, as it’s kinda near downtown Detriot, but it’s not the most exciting airport in the world — it was like 1/5th the size ov Metro and boasted about four terminals — and now it’s closed, for all intents and purposes.

Out ov all the post-modern structures that I can think ov off the top ov my head, I’d say that I love airports the most. I guess my romantic retro mind still associates airports with the Jet Age ov the late Fifties and Sixties, when that lovely omnipresent keening whine ov jet engines meant that your plane, Pan American Flight 2305 from London to Tokyo, would be embarking soon. Also, with some ov the newer airports, you have those super fab subway systems that ferry passengers from one end ov the concourse to the other. I think that especially those airports that feature subways exemplify why I dig them so very much — they’re like self-contained Cities Ov The Future. Anything that evokes the urban layouts ov Logan’s run, 2001: A space odyssey, THX 1138, Gerry Anderson’s UFO and Space: 1999 makes me a happy Davecat. Airports are a glimpse ov the future that the past said we’d be living in — minus the dystopia, ov course..

But yeah, the freewheeling days ov airport photography are gone. I mean, I’m sure as a nation the United states might get relaxed enough to one day drop down from amber alert to, err, brown alert or whatever, but I’m fairly certain I’ll have long since moved to Toronto before that happens..
As an aside, might I add that I may not be able to hang about in Toronto’s airport, but two things more than make up for that: their subway system and Eaton Centre. Hell, one ov the subway stops is Eaton Centre! O, Canada. 🙂

(posted on Thursday, but written on Wednesday. Please direct all complaints to that brick wall over there)

WHAT D’YE CALL IT? Katamari damacy

IS IT ANIMAL, VEGETABLE, OR MINERAL? a game for the Sony PlayStation 2

WHY ARE YOU RECOMMENDING THIS TO ME, THE SUAVE AND DEBONAIR READER OF ‘SHOUTING TO HEAR THE ECHOES’? It is, in the truest possible sense, a game that can be enjoyed by everyone. It’s innovative, it’s simple, it’s highly addictive, and most importantly, it’s a pantsful ov fun.
You control the Prince of All Cosmos, a 1cm fellow with a rather wide head. One night previously, the King of All Cosmos, a similarly wide-headed individual, had a night on the tiles, and ended up smashing every single star out ov the sky, so he’s naturally delegated the responsibility ov cleaning up the mess to his son, just like a real dad. Heh.
So! The Prince has been sent down to Earth with a sticky ball called a katamari, and has to roll up as much stuff as possible to make enormous junk balls, so the King can turn said balls into stars. I am not making this up. You can pick up anything and everything in this game, and I literally mean ‘anything and everything’ — the only thing you can’t pick up is water. One ov the more delirious stages is Make a Star 6. You start out on a table in a livingroom, rolling up dice and 9-volt batteries, and by the end, you’re rolling up bulldozers and houses. And that’s nothing compared to the final stage, where you have to rebuild the Moon. Fecking ace. 🙂

WHAT WOULD BE YOUR FAVOURITE BIT(S)? O, I dunno, probably the whole damn game. The soundtrack, the sound effects, the Kubrick-esque character design (that’s the Japanese figures, not the film maestro, just so we’re clear), the simplicity ov gameplay (you use both analogue sticks to manoeuvre the ball. That’s it), the replay value, the King’s lysergic/sarcastic quips (‘We hope you can visit Portugal during the day’s rolling. Like that’s possible.’), all ov it’s ace. Did I mention that this game, this slice ov joy burned onto a DVD-ROM, is only $20 USD?? You have absolutely no excuse to pick it up & give it a spin (please pardon bad pun)

WHERE IS THE LINKAGE LOVE? Right here. Here, I say!

NEXT WEEK: Another glowing but frothing review, with quite possibly more descriptive and somewhat unnecessary adjectives!

Let me start out first by saying that because I hate my workplace so much, I’m intentionally avoiding writing about it. For one, the job really isn’t worth more than three seconds’ worth ov attention, and it’s so relentlessly despicable that talking about it outside ov the workplace makes my stomach hurt; also, it’s such a hideous and socially-reviled job that I would be hard-pressed to find people who are sympathetic to my cause (in case you’ve just joined us, it’s telemarketing, but the company prefers the term ‘fundraising’). Finally, I didn’t want ‘Shouting to hear the echoes’ to turn into A Blog Where All I Do Is Bitch About My Job. Personally I feel that people think I’m boring enough as it is; I don’t need to provide additional evidence to support that claim. However, today’s work experience was somewhat noteworthy..

So I’m at my aforementioned loverly workplace today when one ov my colleagues — we’ll call him Slick — stops round to my cubicle for the day’s salutation. He’s one ov the literally four or five employees I will go out ov my way to acknowledge the presence ov, and that’s only cos he was enquiring about my relationship with Kati, who was the one good friend I had at work before, so he’s one ov those ‘you made eye contact with me, now you’re my friend for life’ kind ov fellas. Heh.
At any rate, Slick stops by — while I’m on the phone with someone, mind you (and that’s a topic that I’ll have to address at a later time; how I can’t feckin’ stand it when someone tries talking to me when I’m on a phone) — and after a couple ov brief seconds, he leans towards me and says, sotto voce, ‘Hey, uh, you wouldn’t happen to know where I could get some powder, do ya?’ I’m like ‘What??’; partially cos I was taken aback at the question, as no-one has ever asked me where they could score some drugs from before, and partially cos I was, as previously stated, on the phone, and I’m not talented enough to be able to listen to more than one human at a time.
‘Err, no, actually, I don’t,’ I replied, tilting the mouthpiece on my headset away. He nodded, made the OK sign, then headed for the bog. Ahem. Upon exiting, he passed by one more time and remarked, ‘Hey — be sure to keep this between you & me, huh?’ I gave him a hearty thumbs-up. I mean, really; what else could I do?

Yeeaaah, that’s brilliant. Between the coke addicts, and the white trash whores, and the black trash whores, and the fucking jock with the needlessly loud voice sat in the cubicle right next to me, wow — my workplace is just like Interzone

Originally the plan for the first Sexy Action Installment ov ‘the Wednesday Recommendation’ was for me to go on about my brand spank-me new copy ov Katamari damacy, but the GameStop where I’d reserved my copy hadn’t gotten the shipment in yet, the cakefuckers. Grrr. Perhaps I’ll do my frothing recommendation ov that next week..
So without further ado, here’s this thing..

WHAT D’YE CALL IT? Shaun of the Dead

WHAT IS IT? a feature film

WHY ARE YOU RECOMMENDING THIS TO ME, THE HIP AND SAVVY READER OF ‘SHOUTING TO HEAR THE ECHOES’? Cos any film, zombie-related or otherwise, that has people whacking the bollocks out ov a zombie in time to the rhythm ov Queen’s ‘Don’t stop me now’ deserves to be seen by everyone.
Jeff & I caught this at the Main art theatre last Friday, as he had managed to score a pair ov free passes. We’d seen the trailer a couple ov weeks previously, and were pretty impressed, and I can honestly say the film itself was better than the trailer (which is an increasingly rare statement these days). Shaun, a late-twentynothing slacker, is stuck in a dead-end job, has a flailing relationship with his long-suffering girlfriend Liz, and lives with Ed, who is even more ov a slacker than he is. The normal routine ov spending the eve down the pub for the billionth time gets a bit shaken up when zombies begin to overrun the city. Can Shaun rescue his mum and reconcile with Liz? Moreover, can he do these things before they call time down at the local pub?

WHAT WOULD BE YOUR FAVOURITE BIT(S)? The homage to ‘Reservoir dogs’ scene, and the surprise guest appearances by someone from ‘The Office’ and someone from ‘The League of Gentlemen’

HAVE YOU GOT A LINK FOR THIS, THEN? Why yes!

So how was that?
NEXT WEEK: More ov the same

Alreet, I’m giving this a spin: In order to write, or at the very least, add something to this godforsaken Blog at least once a week, we’re trying this idea on — the WEDNESDAY RECOMMENDATION. Every Wednesday, I’ll give brief kudos to something that I think everyone should look into, whether it’s a Cd, a book, a fillum or videogame. It may even be a concept, such as the Soul of Man Under Socialism. (cue Jeff & Monti snickering) I figure this way, if I write about things I like, I’ll always have something to write about, non?*

THE EXCITEMENT STARTS TOMORROW. Cos tomorrow is Wednesday. See how that works?

*Actually non; it’s a safe bet that there are a hell ov a lot more things in life that I hate than things I like, but frankly, I don’t have that kind ov typin’ time