LISTMANIA!The 20 Best Albums of 2008

(If you haven't already, be sure to check out the runners up and the best songs of 2008.)

2008 is over. Shall we raise some hosannahs to the sky? In all fairness, I shouldn't add to the chorus of bellyaching; economic collapse aside, I still have a job and my loved ones all seem to have their health. Besides, 2008 ended up being a pretty good year for music. The top end was especially loaded, with no less than three albums with legitimate claims to the top spot. Still, if the Highlander movies have taught us anything (and they have taught us so much), it's that there can be only one.

We've also learned that, just as 2006 was a great year to have "wolf" somewhere in your band's name (Wolfmother, Wolf Parade, etc.), 2008 was the year of "crystal," with fantastic albums from Crystal Castles, Crystal Antlers, and Crystal Stilts. And we've discovered that it was a terrific year to be Bradford Cox, who released not one, not two, but three albums (technically) that made the *bitter defeat* top 20. That's fairly impressive. Finally, we've learned that young, noisy bands playing in warehouses and backyards are still the most exciting game in town, from "elder statesmen" like Jay Reatard, Fucked Up, and No Age to up-and-comers like Ponytail, Vivian Girls, Crystal Antlers, Pissed Jeans, and Abe Vigoda.

LISTMANIA 2008The Best Albums of the Year: Honorable Mentions

Only twenty candidates made the cut this year, but there were quite a few excellent albums lingering at the edge of the bubble...like Syracuse on the NCAA tourney selection special. Some simply weren't top-twenty material, while others I could only hear briefly or piece-by-piece via free downloads, but all are worth picking up if you have the means (or a Limewire account).

I would also like to mention a few albums I wanted to listen to, but never got to hear in their entirety: TV on the Radio - Dear Science; Guns & Roses - Chinese Democracy; Boris - Smile; Kanye West - 808s and Heartbreak; Earth - The Bees Made Honey in the Lion's Skull; Spiritualized - Songs in A & E; and Hot Chip - Made in the Dark.

(Don't forget to check out the 40 Best Songs of 2008!)

Here, in no real order, are the Listmania 2008 runners-up.

LISTMANIA 2008The 40 Best Songs of the Year, Part 2

Fleet Foxes at Sasquatch!, May 24, 2008

Although time constraints have prevented me from providing any commentary thus far in the Listmania season, rest assured that the 2008 Album List will, in fact, contain actual written content. What can I say? As you all know, 2008 has been a total bitch. In the meantime, here are the top 20 songs of 2008.

Don't forget to check out nos. 40–21 first!

NOTE: All streaming audio has been removed due to bandwidth issues.

Songs 20–1

20. "Midnight Vignette" – Evangelicals

19. "L.E.S. Artistes" – Santogold

18. "Recent Bedroom" – Atlas Sound

17. "Where Do You Run To" – Vivian Girls

16. "Always Wanting More" – Jay Reatard

15. "We're Gonna Rise" – The Breeders


14. "Strange Times" – Black Keys

13. "No Future" – Titus Andronicus

12. "Daddy Needs a Drink" – Drive-By Truckers

11. "A Thousand Eyes" – Crystal Antlers

10. "Cold Son" – Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks

9. "The Rip" – Portishead

8. "Knots" – Pete & The Pirates

7. "Nothing Ever Happened" – Deerhunter

6. "Electric Feel" – MGMT

5. "A Milli" – Lil Wayne

4. "Fools" – The Dodos

3. "Keep Your Eyes Ahead" – The Helio Sequence

2. "In the New Year" – The Walkmen

1. "White Winter Hymnal" – Fleet Foxes

LISTMANIA 2008The 40 Best Songs of the Year, Part 1

Islands at Siren Fest, July 19, 2008

After a long holiday layoff, *bitter defeat* returns with the first installment in the 2008 edition of LISTMANIA. We begin with the 40 best songs of the year, a list that says far more about the author than it does about the actual musical landscape. Of course if you try to cover the actual musical landscape, you end up with something like Rolling Stone's mind-bendingly schizophrenic Top 50 Albums of 2008 list, which includes No Age, the Jonas Brothers, Jackson Browne, B.B. King, Metallica, and (SHOCKER!!) Bob Dylan. No single publication should attempt to simultaneously appeal to me, my mom, and my (imaginary) 11-year-old sister. Still, there is something to be said for balance, and I'll be the first to admit that I failed once again to really delve into hip-hop and "urban" music this year. Lil Wayne aside (and let's be honest here... Lil Wayne is this year's Hip-Hop Artist that White Indie-Rock Fans Like), my tastes ran to white, blogger-approved, guitar-driven indie music.

Admissions of White Liberal Guilt aside, there remains the usual raft of disclaimers, qualifications, and guidelines that go into any respectable year-end list. To begin with, for the sake of variety I decided to limit entries to one per artist. In addition, although most of these songs were, in fact, released as singles, that is in no way a requirement; album tracks are just fine. Additionally, a couple of tthese may technically have been released as singles in 2007, but if I first heard the song in 2008 and it was included on an album released in 2008, then it bloody well counts. Conversely, if the song was on an album released in 2007, but was released as a single in 2008...then give me a fucking break. In other words, no Radiohead songs came out this year, so Radiohead has no place on any 2008 best-of lists.

Since this intro was so damned long-winded, I'll also forgo lengthy commentary on songs 40 through 21.

School of Seven Bells at Mercury Lounge, December 15, 2008

My ears are still ringing like a television tube after last night's excellent School of Seven Bells show at Mercury Lounge. It's amazing how much noise you can make without bass or drums. Plenty more shots in the Flickr gallery.

Rock Alter Egos

al•ter e•go
noun
a person's secondary or alternative personality.
• an intimate and trusted friend.
ORIGIN mid 16th cent.: Latin, ‘other self.’

I have a feature on rock and pop alter egos up over at Spinner. Check it out.

31 20-Something Days of Horror:The Movie-a-Day Horror Movie Halloween Countdown, Day 29

"Did you ever see that movie where the body is walking around carrying its own head, and then the head goes down on that babe?" -- Kevin Spacey as Lester Burnham in American Beauty

With that line from 1999's Oscar winner for Best Picture, Re-Animator went from beloved cult film to dorm-room sensation overnight. (And as a result, "I want to borrow your copy of Re-Animator" became code for "I want to buy some pot.") It even surpassed The Big Lebowski on EW.com's The Cult 25 list.

Released in October 1985, Re-Animator bridged the gap between the Frankenstein/mad scientist genre and zombie movies. It also solidified the cult-horror transition from the bleak nihilism of the post-Watergate years (The Last House on the Left, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and so forth) to the self-referential sardonicism of the Reagan years and beyond, from Evil Dead 2 to Feast.


The plot is simple: an unbalanced genius has discovered a "reagent" (which looks suspiciously like the stuff inside a Glow Stick) that brings dead tissue back to life. Unfortunately, everyone that gets reanimated appears stuck on a sliding scale between primal anger and diabolical evil, and West's continuing experiments gradually unleash a cavalcade of very pissed-off zombies in various states of articulacy (and decay). It all starts when he brings back his roommate Dan's cat, Rufus, in what may be the film's best sequence. Dan, who is ostensibly the film's "hero," had already discovered his former pet stiff as a board in West's mini-fridge, whereupon West made up an oh-so-plausible story about "the poor thing" getting its head stuck in a jar. Cut to the following night, as Dan finds West in the basement doing battle with an extremely agitated, formerly deceased kitty. They finally manage to re-kill old Rufus by throwing the poor little bastard against a cinderblock wall, but our boy Herbert is just getting started: he then re-reanimates the cat, by way of demonstration ("Don't expect it to tango, it has a broken back"). The entire sequence (which comes, mind you, about 15 minutes into the movie) is a fitting preamble for what's to come: a perfect mix of gore, scares, and pitch-black gallows humor. It also tells you all you need to know about Herbert West: the good doctor is batshit insane.

When West's nemesis, Dr. Hill, attempts to steal the secrets of reanimation, West has no choice but to dispatch him by first clobbering and then decapitating him with the blade of a shovel. Face it, you would do the same in his position. Naturally, West gives the head a shot of Glow Stick filling, but he fails to anticipate Dr. Hill's ability to command his own headless body. Dr. Hill then proceeds, head in hand, to unleash an army of crazed zombies—and to kidnap and, yes, orally molest Dan's hapless girlfriend Megan (whose father, the dean of the medical school, has already been turned into a lobotomized zombie). In terms of "innocent bystander" abuse, the film is essentially a toss-up between Megan and Rufus the cat.


Needless to say, Re-Animator is roughly ninety minutes of unadulterated fun, replete with 24 gallons of blood, naked zombie fights, cat murder, dead cat murder, dead cat re-murder, zombie lobotomies (I know, seems redundant), beheading by shovel, and, of course, decapitated cunnilingus. In other words, it's good, clean family fun for Halloween.

31 20-Something Days of Horror:The Movie-a-Day Horror Movie Halloween Countdown, Day 22

When is a sequel not a sequel? Is Troll 2 a sequel, even though they just slapped the title on after the fact (and the word "troll" is never uttered in the film)? Probably not. Okay, but what if the original film's director, art supervisor, and producers are all on board, and yet the "sequel" has absolutely no narrative connection whatsoever to its ostensible progenitor? Enter the strange case of Halloween III: Season of the Witch. Original director John Carpenter returned (as producer and composer), as did the original co-writer (Debra Hill, now producer), art director (Tommy Lee Wallace, now director), and executive producer (Halloween godfather Moustapha Akkad). But they seem to have forgotten someone rather important: Michael Myers. And I don't mean like how Jason Vorhees isn't technically the killer in Friday the 13th and Friday the 13th VI: A New Beginning. No, I mean there is nary a mention of Michael Myers, Laurie Strode, or the fictional town of Haddonfield, Illinois, throughout the entire film. Aside from a brief scene from the original Halloween being shown on a TV at one point, there is no acknowledgment of the previous films in the series.

Cynical cash-in? Well, yes and no. At the time, the filmmakers planned to leave Michael Myers dead (he did get blown to smithereens at the end of Halloween II, after all) and relaunch the franchise as a kind of horror anthology series, with a new but wholly unique Halloween film coming out every year. But while that's a great idea, it would have made a lot more sense had the first sequel not been a continuation of the original movie. So one can't help but conclude that the filmmakers were either hopelessly naive about audience expectations, or that this horror anthology idea was really just a rationalization for an obvious cash-in opportunity. In any case, the public was less than pleased by the apparent switcheroo, and Halloween III managed only a very modest profit. (Say what you will about horror movies, they're usually a smart investment; even the flops tend to recoup their ultra-modest budgets.)

Well that's all fascinating, you might say, but what about the movie? As it turns out, Halloween III: Season of the Witch stands on its own as a halfway decent early-80s horror film, and it's sufficiently season-appropriate as to make fantastic October viewing.


The always reliable Tom Atkins (of Night of the Creeps and Carpenter's The Fog) stars as alcoholic adulterer Dr. Dan Challis, who joins a young woman in investigating the bizarre death of her Halloween-mask-making father. Their search takes them to the aggressively Hibernian hamlet of Santa Mira, California, (also the name of the fictional town at the center of the original Invasion of the Body Snatchers), and its financial linchpin, Silver Shamrock Novelties. Silver Shamrock happens to have the most popular line of Halloween masks on the market, and they are tied into a big nationwide Halloween-night "horrorthon" and "big giveaway" that all the kids just have to tune into.


Why kids are falling over themselves to hear the most mind-meltingly insidious, irritatingly repetitive theme music in history is never really established, but it does play into the film's sly critique of holiday consumerism. As it happens, Silver Shamrock's president, Conal Cochran, is behind some very sinister doings. In an attempt to bring the festival of Samhain back to its Celtic roots (and, really, because he's just an impishly evil fucker), Conal and his minions have brought an entire monolith from Stonehenge to Santa Mira. Conveniently, Cochran tells us this during his Big Speech, which packs roughly thirty minutes' worth of explication into about two minutes of screen time. (Oh did I mention that his minions are actually superhumanly strong androids filled with an orange-ish goo somewhere between strained carrots and uncooked pumpkin pie filling?) Anyway, each Silver Shamrock mask contains a computer chip with a tiny sliver of Stonehenge embedded in it, and when the big "Happy Happy Halloween" broadcast signal is activated, all the kiddies at home with their masks on will have their heads melted and bugs and snakes will essentially pop out of their brains. It looks something like this:
That Conal Cochran is quite the trickster, but his business acumen is shoddy at best. Melting consumers' faces off is a horrible way to encourage repeat customers. I won't give away the ending, but I will say that it's pretty great.

Obviously the Halloween III experiment was considered a failure by critics, audiences, and the filmmakers at the time (the film's reputation has improved considerably with time), and Michael Myers shambled back onto the screen in 1988's aptly titled Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers. Although it's hard to defend the filmmakers' logic at the time, it's equally difficult to imagine that the world needed another six Michael Myers films more than it needed a quirky horror anthology.

31 20-Something Days of Horror:The Movie-a-Day Horror Movie Halloween Countdown, Day 17

When it comes to getting things done on a schedule, you give me an inch and I'll take a nap. I've already gone from diligent worker bee to the stoned, C-level college student who's constantly making up stories about demagnetized floppy disks and broken printers and increasingly elaborate family tragedies in order to get a two-day extension on that big ten-page "Metaphysical versus Epistemological Interpretations of Hume's Critique of Causation" paper. (Did I seriously date myself with the floppy disc reference?) Suffice it to say, it's October 17 and my thirty-one-film Halloween countdown has covered exactly ten films...and that's including the present entry.

Pathetic.

Although the very notion of having a "favorite" something is always problematic, for any self-styled critic or overly committed cultural consumer there is the added pressure of having so-called "respectable" tastes and opinions. Although the very notion of "canon" should be anathema to the truly enlightened critical mind, there is nonetheless an understanding that you are supposed to "appreciate" (or at least have an opinion about), say, Fellini or Warhol or any number of other artists who can be referred to solely by their surname. This is especially the case with directors, despite the relative disrepute of auteur theory these days. I bring all this up because I would love to claim that my favorite director is Billy Wilder or Akira Kurosawa or Sam Fuller. I would be happy to say something mature and noncommittal (and undeniably pretentious) like, "The very notion of having a favorite director is limiting and ridiculous."

But my favorite director is John Carpenter. Specifically, John Carpenter from 1974 (the year Dark Star came out and, coincidentally, the year of my birth) through the 1988 release of They Live. Since the 1992 release of Memoirs of an Invisible Man (which also arguably ended Chevy Chase's "good" years), Carpenter has been on an extended cold streak, the highlight of which is probably the so/so (and completely batshit insane) In the Mouth of Madness.


Perhaps the most poorly regarded film of Carpenter's fertile period is the 1987 oddity Prince of Darkness, which happened to be released right when my dedication to horror movies was at its most fervid. Despite its spotty reputation, it remains one of my all-time faves; a bizarre, genuinely affecting victory of atmosphere over narrative.


Basically, a priest (a completely over-the-top Donald Pleasance) discovers the activities of a secret Catholic sect called The Brotherhood of Sleep, who have been charged over the centuries with guarding a big cylinder filled with swirling green goo; a sinister-looking lava lamp on steroids. Realizing that All Is Not Well, the priest enlists the help of a theoretical physicist and his crack team of graduate students to figure out What In The Hell Is Going On. This team includes the film's ostensible hero, a PhD candidate and amateur prestidigitator played by Jameson Parker (of Simon & Simon fame). The film's real hero, however, is Jameson Parker's Totally Awesome Mustache:
In a nutshell, the team's investigation leads to the following revelations (so to speak): Jesus was an extraterrestrial; the cylinder is an elaborate, rapidly decaying prison for the son of the Devil; Satan himself is a kind of antimatter to God's matter; psychically speaking, the homeless are roughly on par with cockroaches and worms; you can send tachyon transmissions back in time to talk to people in their dreams; and Jameson Parker's Totally Awesome Mustache may not be powerful enough to save us all from oblivion. As you can see, despite the film's tenuous grasp of particle physics, calling Prince of Darkness a thinking man's horror movie is something of an understatement.

Like David Lynch's Dune, another unfairly maligned favorite of mine, Prince of Darkness was written off as uneven, dialogue-heavy, and "hard to follow." And, as is the case with Dune, these criticisms are spot-on. However, Prince of Darkness is also unremittingly creepy in a doomed, Lovecraftian way—it's the kind of vibe that few filmmakers aspire to anymore. Carpenter is an unparalleled master of atmospherics, using sparse, haunting music and wide open, almost sterile framing to produce an eerie feeling that borders on a kind of existential dread. Just consider the frozen wastes of The Thing or the abandoned suburban afternoons in Halloween. Isolation is the real enemy in these films (small wonder that Carpenter constantly returns to the "siege scenario" in his films), and in Prince of Darkness that isolation is simultaneously physical (the scientists are all trapped in a run-down urban church), emotional (the main characters are pointedly unable to articulate their romantic feelings for one another), and spiritual (Jesus was an alien and Good and Evil are reduced to subatomic abstraction). And really, what's scarier than facing unstoppable monsters all by your lonesome?

Prince of Darkness is best watched in the dark (otherwise it would be called Prince of Sufficient Lighting), with one or two friends. This is especially important afterwards as a) the film rewards a good post-viewing discussion; and b) you won't be able to go anywhere near a mirror by yourself for the next twelve hours or so. (It's not as bad as Candyman in this respect, but still...)

31 20-Something Days of Horror:The Movie-a-Day Horror Movie Halloween Countdown, Day 15

Okay, okay. So it turns out that thirty-one movie posts in thirty one days was a classic case of biting off more than one can chew. Especially when you throw a five-day weekend into the mix. It seems counter-intuitive, but booze-soaked vacations in tropical locations are not conducive to blogging. Who knew?? Anyway, let's get back to the spookin'...

Last night Kim and I turned off all the lights and I popped in The Tingler. Uh, let me rephrase that...


Last night Kim and I turned off the lights and I put in a DVD of William Castle's 1959 schlock-horror masterpiece, The Tingler. Vincent Price stars as Dr. Warren Chapin, a moderately creepy pathologist who takes time from his busy autopsy schedule to conduct research into the physiological manifestations of fear. His "experiments" (which include shooting himself up with massive doses of LSD) lead to the ever-so-plausible discovery of a parasitic creature that grows along the base of the spine during moments of terror, a creature that disappears when its host inevitably lets out a scream. After a hapless deaf-mute woman is frightened to death, the good doctor is able to remove one of the creatures, which promptly starts creeping around in a crowded movie theater.


And at this point the genius of William Castle shines through: "Amazing NEW TERROR Device Makes You A Living Participant in the FLESH-CRAWLING ACTION! PERCEPTO!" Ever the master of schlocky marketing gimmicks, Castle invented Percepto, which was essentially just a vibrating buzzer contraption installed in select theater seats. So, once the Tingler is released in the theater on screen, the buzzers go off and mayhem ensues. Castle even went so far as to hire "nurses" to wait in the lobby, lest all that terror should prove too much for some poor patron. The film also includes a brilliant scene in which a sink and a bathtub fill with bright red blood... even though the film was in black and white; the sequence was shot in color, and everything, including the actress' face, was painted in black and white.


Of course, The Tingler loses much of its charm in your living room, but it's still worth watching for the hilarious creature effects and some genuinely nasty dialogue between Warren and his cheating wife (check out the B-Movie review for sound clips, etc.). Besides, a film that so deeply influenced John Waters has to be good, right?

31 Days of Horror:The Movie-a-Day Halloween Countdown, Day Eight

Today we leave the 1980s behind and take a look at a nasty little gem from 1968 called Witchfinder General, which stars Vincent Price as Matthew Hopkins, the titular professional witch hunter. Set in the mid-1640s, amid the turmoil of the first English Civil War, the film splits time between Hopkins—who travels from town to town ferreting out "witches," torturing people for fun, and collecting fees for his troubles—and a young pro-Parliament soldier whose betrothed has been raped by Hopkins's brutal assistant.


Unlike the other films we'll discuss this month, Witchfinder General isn't a horror film, strictly speaking. There are no actual witches, most of the action takes place in broad daylight, and the torture scenes, while unpleasant, are largely historically accurate. At its core, the film is about the depravity of its title character, and the horrible toll his callous abuse of power takes on the innocents around him. But the very presence of Vincent Price, along with the fact that it was produced by Tigon British Film Productions, qualifies it at least as a "thriller." And speaking of Price, Matthew Hopkins is one of his finest creations—a creature of pure self-serving malevolence—and it's a remarkably subtle performance by Price standards. Perhaps adding to the its horrific mystique, director and co-writer Michael Reeves was found dead at the age of 25 after an accidental barbiturate overdose just months after the film's release.

Witchfinder General was released by American International Pictures in the U.S., but the title was changed to The Conqueror Worm. Although there is little more than a passing reference to Edgar Allen Poe's poem in the film, AIP was hoping to cash in on Roger Corman's successful string of Poe adaptations starring Vincent Price (such as The Fall of the House of Usher (1960), The Pit and the Pendulum (1961), and The Raven (1963)).

31 Days of Horror:The Movie-a-Day Halloween Countdown, Day Seven

A brief explanation of the split in America's cinematic zombie mythology:

After the 1968 release of Night of the Living Dead, a dispute between co-writers John A. Russo and George A. Romero resulted in Russo retaining the rights to the "Living Dead" portion of the title. Romero, who directed the original film, went on to complete his trilogy with Dawn of the Dead and Day of the Dead (he later expanded the series with Land of the Dead and last year's terrible Diary of the Dead). Romero's Dead films continued with essentially the same "rules" set forth in the original film: there is no explanation for the sudden reawakening of the dead, the zombies crave human flesh, and if you destroy the brain you kill (or, re-kill) the zombie.


Meanwhile, John Russo doesn't seem to have done much of anything until around 1984, when he tapped Dan O'Bannon to write the script for Return of the Living Dead, based on Russo's own novel of the same name. When Tobe Hooper (director of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Poltergeist) dropped out of the project in order to direct Lifeforce (we'll get to Lifeforce later this month), O'Bannon (who wrote the screenplay for Lifeforce, along with Dark Star, Alien, and Total Recall) agreed to try his hand at directing. Confused yet? The situation gets even more confusing when you consider the proliferation of unauthorized sequels to Dawn of the Dead in Italy, but that's a story for another time.

Anyway, Return of the Living Dead came out in 1985, bringing with it a mordant sense of humor, an amazing punk-rock soundtrack featuring TSOL, the Flesh Eaters, and the Cramps, and an entirely new set of rules for the undead.


As you can see from the trailer, the whole "destroy the brain" thing doesn't work anymore, which means, in technical terms, that everyone is royally screwed. The zombies can also run and talk... although they mostly just repeat the word "brains." As you can also tell from the trailer, the movie is ruthlessly funny, employing the "deadpan" humor that also characterized so many mid-80s cult-horror classics.

For any fan of the horror-comedy genre (think Re-Animator, Dead Alive, Evil Dead 2, etc.) or for anyone looking for a great 1980s punk/new wave fix, I cannot recommend this film enough.

31 Days of Horror:The Movie-a-Day Halloween Countdown, Days Five and Six

Troll 2 (1990) is among the most celebrated bad movies of the last twenty years—a film whose technique, acting, and plot are so mind-bogglingly inept that no one knows quite how to read it. Is it the nadir of direct-to-video exploitation filmmaking? An avant-garde camp masterpiece? A loveable slice of outsider art? As Scott Tobias points out in his incredible New Cult Canon piece, a lot depends on whether or not the filmmakers are in on the joke, but no consensus exists on that central question.


Rather than regurgitate the plot, I'll simply refer you to Mr. Tobias's article, the Wikipedia entry, and the trailer for the upcoming Troll 2 documentary, Best Worst Movie. I'll just sum up by saying, "You can't piss on hospitality."


On the other end of the sequel spectrum, we have Don Coscarelli's cult favorite Phantasm II (1988). I had planned a lengthy entry, but I was unable to watch the film again because, as I was surprised and saddened to learn, the film has never had a domestic release on DVD.


Based on what I can remember, Phantasm II is essentially a remake of the original, with the addition of a psychic blond chick and more bloody action from the series' trademark killer silver orbs:



In a nutshell, a tall scary guy called (imaginatively) the Tall Man runs a mortuary in which he turns dead bodies into hooded dwarf slaves. Yes, you read that sentence correctly. Some good guys attempt to thwart his evil plans. Shotguns and killer balls and Druid dwarfs... needless to say its a favorite among both horror fans and stoners. Anyway, if you still own a VCR, it's an essential Halloween treat.

31 Days of Horror:The Movie-a-Day Halloween Countdown, Day Four

Neil Marshall's Dog Soldiers (2002) opens as a hapless group of British soldiers on maneuvers in the Scottish wilderness discover the ravaged remains of another squad. Terrorized by an unseen enemy, they soon find themselves trapped in a small cottage where, conveniently, a local zoologist informs them that they are being hunted by werewolves. It's your basic siege movie, in the mold of Assault on Precinct 13 or, more appropriately, Evil Dead 2, with a healthy dose of Aliens thrown in for the fun of it. Marshall, who directed 2005's criminally underrated The Descent, wears his influences proudly on his sleeve (as he did with this year's Escape from New York homage, Doomsday).



A modest hit in Europe, Dog Soldiers went straight to DVD in the States, which is a shame given the film's superior werewolf effects. Still, if you keep the room dark enough, it's great fun to watch at home. There's no subtext to speak of, and it's not what you'd call innovative fare, but the film does boast a witty script and a cast of rock-solid English and Scottish actors (including Kevin McKidd, from Trainspotting and HBO's Rome). All in all, you'd be hard-pressed to find a better direct-to-DVD horror film for a night of pumpkin carving.

31 Days of Horror:The Movie-a-Day Halloween Countdown, Day Three

Day three, and we're still hangin' in the 1980s. One of the more bizarre major-studio releases of the decade, Wolfen (1981) stars Albert Finney and Gregory Hines as a New York City detective/pathologist pair investigating a series of murders that appear to have been perpetrated by some kind of animal. Not to give too much away, it turns out that a mysterious race of ancient, super-intelligent wolves who live in the abandoned wastelands of the South Bronx are killing businessmen who are planning an urban reclamation project in the wolves' neighborhood. Yeah. Oh and a bunch of Native American construction workers (including Edward James Olmos) who hang out atop skyscrapers and might be shapeshifters are also involved somehow.


The trailer doesn't do the film's knotty plot and literate screenplay justice (and according to Roger Ebert's original review, this is intentional). But it does allow you to see the cool in-camera digital effect they used to indicate the wolves' POV. I've heard conflicting stories about this, but my understanding is that this was among the first films ever to use computer-generated visual effects. In addition, the film was largely shot among actual abandoned neighborhoods in the South Bronx, and the borough's level of sheer devastation has to be seen to be believed. In fact, the creepiest thing about Wolfen is its depiction of the eerily abandoned nocturnal New York of the early 1980s. Here's a representative clip (in German)...


1981 was a banner year for wolf movies, with The Howling and An American Werewolf in London rounding out what has proved to be a classic threesome, but Wolfen remains the least-known of the bunch. That's a shame, and I strongly urge you to redress this oversight as soon as you can. Tune in tomorrow, as the wolf genre storms into the twenty-first century.

31 Days of Horror:The Movie-a-Day Halloween Countdown, Day Two

Today's selection is simultaneously a great B-horror movie and an unabashed love letter to the genre itself. Released in 1986 to mixed reviews and little fanfare, Night of the Creeps has gone on to enjoy a dedicated cult following. (In fact, Kim and I caught a midnight screening at the Sunshine just last weekend.) The film's reputation is easy to understand: it's a goofy, tongue-in-cheek aliens-and-zombies movie that's chock full of in-jokes, references to classic horror and sci-fi, and even some stunt casting (including the venerable Dick Miller in a small role).



The plot, itself an homage to Ed Wood's Plan 9 from Outer Space, is relatively simple: A cannister of experimental alien brain slugs crashes to Earth and the slimy little bastards start infecting the brains of both living and dead hosts. A pair of dorky college freshmen and a semi-suicidal detective (the always awesome Tom Atkins) stumble into the middle of it all, and lots of zombie mayhem, head-exloding, teen wisecracking, and slug-burning ensues. It's also another wonderful relic of the 1980s, chock full of preppy blond bad guys, terrible sweaters, neon, and period music by Stan Ridgway, Jane Wiedlin, and others. Hell, the hero is played by the dude who played Rusty in National Lampoon's European Vacation.

Put simply, it's amazing. Unfortunately, Night of the Creeps remains unavailable on DVD, so the only way to experience it is to buy a VHS copy on eBay. Or you could just live vicariously through the movie's MySpace page.

31 Days of Horror: The Movie-a-Day Halloween Countdown, Day One

October is the favorite month of the year around these parts, primarily because of Halloween, the greatest holiday of all. And so, in keeping with the *bitter defeat* tradition of Halloween observance (not to mention pathological listmaking), this year we present one lesser-known horror movie for each day of the month. These creepy little gems are the ideal way to while away those chilly October nights. Just curl up on the couch, crank up the video machine, and pour yourself a nice goblet of goat's blood. So let's get this ghouls 'n' goblins party started, shall we?

We begin with the appropriately titled Trick or Treat, a 1986 teensploitation horror flick directed by beloved character actor Charles Martin Smith. (Smith—whose only other notable directing credit is 1997's flying-dog classic Air Bud—is a solid member of the "hey it's that guy" fraternity of character actors with instant face recognition and zero name recognition.)


Somewhat less beloved character actor Marc Price (best known as Erwin "Skippy" Handelman on TV's Family Ties) stars as nerdy metalhead outcast Eddie Weinbauer. Eddie, already distraught about constant bullying at school, is nearly shattered by the apparent burning death of his hero, Satanic glam-metal star Sammi Curr. Taking pity on the poor nerd, local disc jockey Nuke (played by none other than Gene Simmons) gives Eddie the only extant acetate pressing of Curr's final recording. Unfortunately, it turns out that Curr's immolation occurred during a Satanic ritual, and as soon as Eddie plays the record backwards—because, hey, that's what kids these days do with that Devil's music—Curr literally explodes from the speakers with really bad facial burns and lots of creepy demonic powers. Many authority figures (including a PMRC-type preacher played by Ozzy Osbourne) and good-looking popular kids get their comeuppance at the hands of Eddie and his resurrected role model, yadda yadda yadda... Skippy fights Sammi, Skippy gets the girl, the end.

Reverend Ozzzy
Despite its goofy premise, Trick or Treat boasts a few decent sequences, most of which involve Sammi Curr's apparent ability to travel via audio and video signals. Yet despite being tied to some decidedly dated subject matter (hair metal, the PMRC, vinyl, and the Sony Walkman, to name a few) the film resonates today because Eddie's character just screams "Columbine." The idea of a nerdy, metal-obsessed, army-jacket-clad loner taking violent revenge on the "normal" kids who torment him at school carries a hell of a lot more cultural baggage today than it did in 1986. If that isn't enough to send you running to your Netflix queue, then maybe this scene will convince you...


Guitar-solo demonic rape still not enough for you? Well how about a smokin' soundtrack by metal middle-weights Fastway? Put it all together and you've got an 80s curio with kickass music, Ozzy and Gene Simmons, and disturbing echoes of one of the worst tragedies of the last decade. You can't lose!

ATP New York 2008Kutsher's Resort, Sept. 19-21

Les Savy Fav
Rather than a lengthy regurgitation of my life-altering weekend at All Tomorrow's Parties New York 2008, I'll simply point you to my day-one recap over at Spinner, followed by Kim's coverage of the Holy Noise Triumvirate: Mogwai, Dinosaur Jr., and My Bloody Valentine. (Also, the Pitchfork review is fairly exhaustive, and totally nails the My Bloody Valentine set. And the New York Times article even includes an interview with Kevin Shields himself.)

Anyway, here's some pics. (Many more at my Flickr gallery)

Bardo Pond
Meat Puppets
Tortoise
Polvo
Les Savy Fav

Lilys
Mercury Rev
Yo La Tengo
The Brian Jonestown Massacre

Deerhunter @ Le Poisson Rouge, Manhattan, 9/9/08

Caught the always-excellent Deerhunter at a cheesy club called Le Poisson Rouge (which, according to lead singer Bradford Cox, translates as "The Red Pussy"). The sound wasn't fantastic, but the band seemed in good spirits. I took the opportunity to get excessively artsy-fartsy with the camera. (Visit the full gallery)

Achewood: Better Late than Never

I am ashamed to admit that I am only now getting around to reading Achewood, which is generally considered to be the only worthwhile webcomic in existence. So far, I'm inclined to agree. (Read all about it)

Yo La Tengo @ McCarren Park Pool, 8/24/08

Lo La Tengo, Titus Andronicus, and Ebony Bones played the final JellyNYC Pool Party on Sunday. I'm more than a little depressed, as these free live shows have been part of my weekly summer routine for two years now. But now we must wave goodbye to free music and dodgeball so that a bunch of snot-nosed little brats can splash around and pee in three feet of lukewarm water. Anyway, I wrote a roundup and posted a photo gallery over at Spinner.

God Bless the U.S.A.

This is why I'm proud to be an American.

All Points West Music Festival @ Liberty Park, New Jersey, August 9, 2008

Nicole Atkins(I've got more Nicole Atkins pics and a show recap up over at Spinner.com.)
Metric


Animal Collective

The Black Angels