The Get Up Kids – Guilt Show

The Get Up KidsGuilt Show (Vagrant)

We’re going back. Way back…to the year…2002.

Do you remember where you were when The Get Up Kids released On a Wire? Neither do I. I did buy it sometime soon after, however, and enjoyed it; surprised at the signs of maturity that (occasionally) cut through the band’s noted triviality. The Kids actually devoted time to textures and arrangements and attempted, at least, a different side of a band always seen as expendable.

Guilt Show, unfortunately, isn’t about remorse over the band’s pre-Wire material. What’s worse, they erase any progress made with their last album and pander once again to mall-punks everywhere. The Get Up Kids offered acceptance with On a Wire that the short-lived explosion of mall-emo was over and the band were ready to move on with the rest of the music world. Two years later, however, isn’t enough time to dig Saves the Day and the rest of the gang up for a retrospective; and what’s more, who fucking cares that The Get Up Kids “infuse their brand of punk with new-wave progressions and a greater emphasis on the keyboard.” This shit doesn’t work.

Particularly offending are “Is There a Way Out” and “Conversation,” the album’s last two tracks. It’s bad enough that the first 11 tracks are of the hardly-passable pop-punk variety. That the last two are “epic” in nature (and trust me, “epic” is used loosely) is laughable.

The Bush administration may be out of work come November. What’s getting lost in the shuffle is that while Bush blew hot air over the literacy rate and insufficient schooling, Dubya failed to rid the 2004 landscape of such an obvious threat to the intelligence of our nation’s children. Avoid Guilt Show like the plague.

Soap Opera Digest: Jessica vs. Britney

Is it Jessica or is it Britney?There was a rather funny-but-trivial item on the Ananova.com site. Apparently, while shopping in Chicago, Britney Spears was told by a presumed admirer who didn’t know who she was (presumably he was admiring her, not admiring the brand “Britney Spears”) that she resembled a famous star. No, not the famous star “Britney Spears.” Rather, the famous star “Jessica Simpson.” The bona fide Britney was reportedly not happy with the observation. Which is all the more puzzling, in that Ms. Simpson graces the cover of the April issue of Allure magazine, on which she is described as “Temptress in a D-Cup.” Given the costumes that Britney is wearing on her current tour, she probably wishes that she could be described that way. (This leads to a slight diversion in the post-Janet wardrobe malfunction: Have you noticed the photo of Madonna that is used in the ad for her “Invention” tour? There she is, down on all fours, fitted with a wig that seems to have been borrowed from Amadeus, with her bodice down and her décolletage in full view: Perhaps gravity has trumped perkiness and she wants to show that she’s still got it. . .lest people turn away and buy tickets to whatever Jessica is showing.)

Continue reading Soap Opera Digest: Jessica vs. Britney

Dude, You Fuckin’ Rock!

Chicago homeboy Kanye WestThe Vines, Jet, Living End at The Vic Theatre

Chicago, March 26, 2004

Ludacris, Kanye West, Dilated Peoples at Soldier Field South Festival Area

Chicago, March 27, 2004

I had a music-filled weekend, which isn’t unusual by itself. What made this weekend strange is that I saw a bunch of bands that I don’t really care about. A couple of them ended up surprising me. And that’s a good thing.

Continue reading Dude, You Fuckin’ Rock!

The OC: Subdue the Hebrew Honey!

Fists clenched like a caged animal...The OC

March 31, 2004

Besides its often hilarious pacing issues – Newport gets more done in the ten minutes before school than you do all day – “The OC” has been dominated by sudden or awkward Walk-Ins. This is when the one character who must never discover the indiscretions/secrets of another just happens to bring over Chinese food at exactly the wrong moment, letting herself in the front door. But last night’s “OC” flipped that MO with a series of satisfying Walk-Aways. You know the Walk-Away. That’s when, instead of dealing with a bombshell revelation rationally and directly, a character becomes steely-eyed – “You’re dead to me!” – turns on her heel, and stalks for the door. All of a sudden, chains of melodramatic pacing bind the confessing character. “______, wait!” he squeaks, but his mouth is soon clapped shut by an iron plate labeled “next week”, or, in the case of Fox, “two weeks,” “a month,” or whenever “American Idol” finally, mercifully ends.

Continue reading The OC: Subdue the Hebrew Honey!

Rock and roll can change your life.