North Coast Journal September 13, 2007 : In Review

September 6, 2007

At My Age
by Nick Lowe
Yep Roc Records

Pop's renaissance man, Nick "the Basher" Lowe, is a notable singer/songwriter who has penned songs performed by Johnny Cash ("The Beast in Me") and Elvis Costello "(What's So Funny About) Peace, Love and Understanding," among others. He's an established producer, who produced most of the early Elvis Costello & the Attractions releases. He's a co-bandleader (Lowe and Dave Edmunds formed Rockpile). He's a member of a supergroup (Little Village). And he's an accomplished solo recording artist who has garnered more attention from critics and other musicians than from record buyers.

Lowe's tunes are often filled with irony and storytelling containing a bit of "a-wink-and-a-nod" quality. He's admitted, for example, that he copped Steely Dan's "Reeling in the Years" riff for his song "So It Goes." For At My Age, he's primarily mined '60s and '70s soul/country, blending Herb Albert pop mariachi horns with a steady mid-tempo backbeat, adding his brilliant phrasing and borrowing from the likes of Brook Benton and Ace (think keyboardist Paul Carrack's lead vocals on the '70s hit "How Long"). Lowe's production, with Neil Brockbank, is spare, allowing his band to provide the subtleties, touches and groove with tight execution. Songs like "A Better Man" and "People Change" reflect an older, more mature narrator, without the sentimentality that often undermines many of his contemporaries. He keeps it straightforward.

The Basher's wry sense of humor remains intact, with songs like his cover of Charlie Feathers' "Man in Love" and "The Club" ("If you had ever had someone come along, reach in/ and pull out your heart and break it/ just for fun/ as easy as hummin' a song/ join the club..."). He makes it difficult to ignore the ugly womanizing persona of "I Trained Her To Love Me," because of the infectious phrasing and turns in the melody. Not that this is a flawless release: Lowe unfortunately concludes the recording with a true clinker, "Feel Again," which spills too far over into lounge-Vegas territory.

However, as an entire piece, At My Age achieves a crossover of country and soul akin to Solomon Burke's stellar 2006 release, Nashville -- in an odd way, as if filtered through a Ray Davies sensibility. Nick Lowe has crafted an album of refined "pure pop for now (older) people."

-- Mark Shikuma, a Humboldt County poet

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Spook Country
by William Gibson
Putnam Adult

William Gibson is best known for a series of sci-fi novels he wrote in the '80s, beginning with the seminal cyberpunk work, Neuromancer, a labyrinthine examination of a future where hackers cruise through virtual towers of data ruled over by shadowy megacorporations. In many ways, the future he envisioned has come to pass. Maybe that's why his recent work is set in the present.

Spook Country is not exactly science fiction; it's more or less a spy novel. The "spook" in the title is a play on words: spooks are spies, but also ghosts. In the first chapter we meet Hollis Henry, once a member of a '90s rock band with a cult following, now working as a freelance journalist on assignment for Node, a Euro-version of Wired. She's been sent to Los Angeles to meet digital artist Alberto Corrales, who creates virtual tableaux of ghosts -- for example River Phoenix lying dead from a drug overdose in front of the Viper Room, the L.A. nightclub he owned.

Next we are introduced to Tito, part of a Cuban/Chinese clan living under the radar in New York City. While his family had previously worked for Russian intelligence, it's not clear what they're up to now. Something that involves passing along data stored on iPods.

Then there's Milgrim, a drug addict being held captive by Brown, a black-ops type who may or may not be working for the U.S. government. Brown has Tito and company under surveillance and is feeding Milgrim a steady stream of Ativan only because the addict is fluent in Volapuk, an obscure code-like language used by the Cubans that renders Cyrillic letters as Western-style text.

The two storylines eventually converge via what Hitchcock would describe as the McGuffin -- a mysterious shipping container on its way from Baghdad to a West Coast port (no, not Eureka).

The plot lacks the twists and turns you expect in a spy novel. In fact, it's pretty much a straight line, and there's not a lot of character development. But Gibson's skillful prose pulls you in. Once you get going it's hard to put down.

In an oblique way, Gibson is commenting on post-9/11 paranoia, and in the denouement he makes a point about the profiteering that swirled around the Iraq War, but he does so without being didactic. In fact it's clear he's having fun, and that's what makes the book a good read.

-- Bob Doran, Journal A&E editor

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The Boys and Girls Guide To Getting Down: A Real Life Guide to Sex, Drugs, and Bad Behavior
Directed by Paul Sapiano
First Look Pictures

Attention NorCal party people, or any partiers for that matter: Prepare yourself for an all-nighter. Put on your spiffiest gear, get your recreational substances lined up and call in your wing-people to get schooled on the carnal arts of getting wild.

Set in Hollywood, the film follows various scenesters through their escapades on Cahuenga (a well-known drag in the freaky city). Throughout the flick, the young partygoers are observed and advised by a team of scientists, whose goal is to compile the ultimate guide to being a successful partier.

Cheesy graphics abound, initially accenting a psychedelic montage of tattooed hipsters. Being that I am not tattooed, nor a hipster, I was unimpressed. Fortunately, the film is structured in an organized fashion (which appealed to my OCD side), so I was able to relax and endure the onslaught of the "too-cool-for-school" characters.

True to guidebook format, the film is broken into chapters, each addressing a vital issue. My personal fave was the Getting In chapter, which provided techniques for getting past stubborn bouncers (not generally a problem, locally). An educated partier can learn to spot an experienced bouncer based on the number of "hot dogs" (fat rolls) he has on his neck: The more hot-dogs, the more experienced. Makes sense in some strange way.

Other chapters include Carnal Knowledge, Pussy Power and The Merits of Marijuana. One highlight: A bit of advice is offered on choosing your weed appropriately, and Arcata gets a shout-out for its dank buds. (Sorry, Arcata Main Street, but you've got an uphill battle.)

My conservative side (or maybe more intelligent side) was alarmed by the segment on how to drive drunk and not get caught. I was also quite turned off by the extensive segment on cocaine. When out, trying to be hip, I try to ignore the fact that many around me are hopped up on blow. The movie makes the claim that drinking and doing coke is A-OK, which I will go ahead and denounce as bullshit. People die from that concoction, and that's not funny.

Our young hipsters' night ends appropriately: with sunrise. Tips on avoiding the awkwardness of the morning after are provided, and I was left feeling lucky that I am not one for getting trashed and having one-night-stands. Of course, by now, our seemingly random group of characters had been united via the scene.

If your feathers aren't ruffled by substance abuse and free love, check it out. The movie hit video stores earlier this week.

-- Emily Hobelmann, Journal calendar editor

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