Roger Ebert (1942-2013)

Film critic Roger Ebert died on April 4, 2013. That evening, I decided that I was going to write something here about what he and his work have meant to me over the years. Unfortunately I was distracted by illness and depression, bogged down with schoolwork and other responsibilities, and just couldn’t focus on writing much of anything at all here until my semester ended two weeks ago. Obviously, I haven’t gotten anything worthwhile done since then, either. What’s it going to take to get me to write this entry?

Well, I’ve already written it two or three times (each version on pace for at least 2,000 words in length), but it took a shape that I hated and would never actually post, so here we are. What can I say? I just think Roger Ebert was a great writer who understood the responsibilities of his job better than any of his peers, which was to accurately describe the experience of what it was like to watch a movie. He did so using print, television and the Internet, connecting with a wide audience, never talking down to “average” moviegoers or wasting film buffs’ time with mere entertainment news. He was honest and upfront about his priorities and expectations for movies and kept a positive attitude about even the worst films he reviewed. He was a thoughtful and intellectually curious man who mined the world for all kinds of new experiences and knowledge. And he resisted the urge to sell out, even when his declining health gave him every excuse to finally kick back and do just that.

When I was 12 or 13, I found myself inexplicably drawn towards “At the Movies,” the long-running television program that he hosted with Gene Siskel. The way they analyzed and talked about movies… excited me, and I soon became a regular reader of his reviews and columns. This lead me to become a more avid reader in general, and even if his influence didn’t turn me into a great writer, it left a huge impression on me that gave me a huge appreciation of (and critical eye towards) the written word and mass media in general. In helping me understand the world of film as a century-long, ever-changing continuum, he helped open my eyes to a new ways of appreciating/engaging with art and media. As a result, I became obsessed with movies in high school and decided I wanted to spend my future working in them.

This didn’t really pan out but I’m not here to talk about that right now.

Point is, I watched all the films of Stanley Kubrick, David Lynch, and Terrence Malick while in high school* because of his reviews. I got into anime because of a review of Ghost in the Shell that I saw on his TV show. I was inspired by his writings to join the school paper: this lead to a magazine internship and (eventually) the creation of several blogs (including the one you’re reading right now). If I hadn’t discovered the world of film and the myriad ways the movies could be interpreted and appreciated, I’d probably still be addicted to video games and functionally illiterate.

*No, I don’t this that this made me a special, “precocious” child or anything. Far from it. I only mention it because it was hard to actually do while living in a small town before the age of high speed internet, and without a car. This was my “thing” in high school that I found joy in and I’ll bask in it as long as I feel like it.

AMV Chronicles #20: Euphoria

Ten years ago today, this video was uploaded to animemusicvideos.org by an editor going by the handle of Koopiskeva.

Since then, it has become the highest-rated video on the site. It’s also amassed 1,526 opinions from viewers, more than any other video on the site. To put that in perspective, the second most-opinioned AMV has 722 opinions. Koopiskeva was a big name in the hobby and still is, and this is perhaps his best-known work. There’s always been a lot of hype around his videos, but I feel that this AMV actually deserves the attention and acclaim it’s received over the years, and that it still looks fantastic today.

For all the competition in this hobby, there’s actually little consensus on what is the greatest AMV ever made. I don’t know if this is it or not, but I’m certain that no discussion of the matter would be complete without a mention of this video. Enjoy.

tl;dr

There’s something sad about encountering an blog who’s most-recent post is more than two years old. What happened? Did the author lose interest in the subjects of their usual entries? Or, just in the act of blogging about them? Is the author physically okay? Is the author still alive? Worse still is when that most recent post is one of those “sorry I’ve been away” entries, complete with apologies for their most recent absences and a promise to “be back soon” with “big plans” for the blog’s future. One is left wondering what those plans were and what it could have been, exactly, that prevented their realization.

Being an everyday reader of blogs, I can say that my favorites are those that cover interesting subjects in a particularly intelligent or entertaining way, and in the process give me some kind of idea of idea of what its creator is like as a person. I do enjoy the slow process of getting into someone’s writings over time, even if they’re only short journal entries, and slowly beginning to understand what’s most important to them, what they believe about the world, even how they feel about other people as well as their very own selves. Sometimes the person behind the entry is more interesting than the entry itself, but not due to the quality of the writing or its conclusions, but because its true meaning can only be interpreted through a very distinct collection of beliefs, attitudes, and values that the author’s posts have revealed to the reader over time. Having this experience as a longtime reader of blogs, I’ve come across a lot of dead blogs that were clearly the works of a passionate and excited people. What made them lose their interest? Their motivation? Why did they abandon their plans to continue blogging? Did they do so by choice, or did outside circumstances end their blogging days? Whatever happened, it’s reasonable to guess that there was a significant change in the blogger’s life. Change is inevitable, but we never want to be reminded of that when we’re browsing online. I certainly don’t, anyway.

So that’s why I don’t want this blog to “die,” despite the fact that I’m well aware of the fact that such death by neglect is the inevitable fate of almost all blogs. I’m uncomfortable with the prospect of losing control of my life or having to sacrifice certain things that I love. I’m also not comfortable with the idea that I ever might lose interest in the things I enjoy. I get melancholy when I think about the pursuits I used to enjoy that no longer bring me pleasure. I hate to think that the positive feelings I get from any of the things that I write about on this blog might one day become less fulfilling or interesting. That’s a common human experience. But I let it creep me out more than it should. Wouldn’t it be terrible to completely lose interest in something that you’d spent so much time with? That may open the doors to new interests and experiences, sure. But it doesn’t always.

I don’t want to believe that my passions are transitory and subject to change. I want them to matter and to provide a source of fulfillment that I can always count on. Actually admitting that they’re so insignificant that they might just up and change one day makes them a little less enjoyable in the present moment. So I try not to think about that, but it’s certainly something that’s on my mind every time I sit down to post something here. How long will I be posting here? Knowing that would certainly effect how I approach blogging, as well as how I present myself online elsewhere. This blog isn’t my only “presence” on the Internet, but I treat this one more carefully than I do with any of the others, and I think I do so because I have a special relationship with the particular sides of myself that I reveal here. Is it my “true” self? If it is, then the dozens of once-active, now-dead blogs I’ve seen over the years, the discarded remains of the “selves” of others, have got me a little worried about its volatility. If it’s not a reflection of my true self, then I’ve certainly wasted my time here over the last four years.

I remain as interested in music as I have ever been, perhaps even more so as I’ve been much more proactive about listening to a wider range of it than ever before, as well as trying to understand just what it is that I love most about my favorite artists/songs/albums. I’d say that I’m legitimately obsessed with music but I know there’s no way to elaborate about the depths of that without sounding obnoxious or pretentious, so I’ll leave it at that. I’d talk about it more here but I already do so elsewhere on a couple of message boards, and I want to keep my persona here separate from how I interact with people on those. I’m a very private person and I like to keep my identity as a geek completely separate from the rest of my life. I worry too much about what other people think, I know, but I’ve also come across a lot of people both online and offline who’re into geeky stuff and, frankly, could stand to think a little more about how others may view their behavior. Anime fans don’t exactly have a shining reputation for social skills or mature behavior — yes, I know that I’m letting extremists define an entire group, but that doesn’t change he fact that this is what most other people do as well — and I’m uncomfortable being lumped in among them in anyone’s mind. I think I just hate being misunderstood, because I don’t like dealing with people’s misconceptions, because I don’t like explaining myself to get over those misconceptions, because I don’t like having to defend aspects of my self that, frankly, I’m actually insecure about. Is it because I feel like I’m getting old? Is it because I am getting old?

As far as anime goes, I’m watching a little less than usual these days, mostly due to school-related priorities. But it’s still an interest that I find myself uniquely fixated on, not only because of its inherent aesthetic qualities, the window it provides into another culture, or what its most common themes can teach us, but because it attracts the sort of people — geeks with a certain range of worldviews, or people with unconventional tastes — that I feel particularly drawn to. I spent a lot of my childhood trying to conform to the attitudes and behaviors of other kids, succumbing to peer pressure while dismissing the legitimacy of anything that brought me happiness if it wasn’t “cool” enough for the kids whose opinions mattered most to me. There were plenty of chances for me to become friends with some of the kids who might have been branded as “nerds,” but I passed these opportunities by because I was fixated on the importance of popularity. As a result, I missed out on a lot of positive experiences and instead experienced lengthy periods of loneliness, confusion and boredom.

Truth is, I was always a geek, but I repressed that side of myself for a really long time out of a sense of shame or a desire to just fit in. At least that was the case when I was young. Oh hell, that’s still the case, isn’t it? I still hide the part of myself that loves animated television programs simply because society has come to the agreement that they’re “just for kids,” and whether that opinion is right or wrong, I’ve never wanted to have to deal with it when explaining myself to others. Anyway, I’m looking for ways to get over those feelings, and having encounters with others who share similar interests would go a long way in helping me to settle down and stop worrying about the social “meaning” of my hobby, or whatever kind of bullshit has me twisted these days. Unfortunately, while I’ve been following and interacting with a small anime club in the city here for over a year, I haven’t been able to attend in person due to conflicts between my scheduled work days and the dates of their meetings. Recently, they changed their schedule so that all monthly meetings would be held on Sundays, which works out extremely well for me. Too bad that I’ve waited too long to RSVP and missed the cut for the March meeting and now for April gathering as well. Guess I’ll try again next time. Meanwhile, ACEN is approaching, which I’ll be attending with my girlfriend and await with both anticipation and hesitation. It’s always a… unique experience, I guess. I really want to cosplay but I feel that’s most enjoyable to do when you’re part of a group, not to mention the fact that I’d be cosplaying a very young character, which shouldn’t be an issue but almost nothing that I fret about actually is. I also want to enter a video in the AMV contest but I honestly don’t know if it’s going to be good enough to make the cut and not completely bore the audience. If I could tell that they hated it, it would probably ruin my night. Why risk it?

I started writing this a few days ago and came back to it in spells punctuated by illness and narcotics. I don’t know if any of this makes sense or is the least bit interesting to read, but I’m going to repress my critical doubts and just post it anyway. This organic chemistry isn’t going to study itself.

AMV chronicles #19: Senpai Says

I attended Anime Central in 2009 and found myself at the “iron editor” competition on one of the nights. I wasn’t sure what, exactly, it was supposed to be, but there wasn’t anything else interesting on the schedule that evening before I was planning to go home for the night, so I gave it a try. The AMV room was a medium-sized conference space with seating for at least 200 people or so. I really don’t know how to describe how big the room was other than to say that it was considerably smaller than the huge room that AMVs are screened in at Sakura-Con, and considerably larger than the tiny meeting room that ACEN has confined their AMV programming to in more recent years. The iron editor contest itself played a small part in the entertainment that evening; there were lots of upbeat and fun AMVs screened, along with contests for viewers to participate in. It was a very communal experience, and even if you weren’t volunteering to test your anime knowledge for prizes, the relaxed and pleasant atmosphere made for a spirited and fun way to wind down the evening, one that was focused on anime fandom and culture, rather than the comparatively violent and non anime-related dances that are the biggest nighttime draws for most ACEN congoers.

This AMV played no small part in my enjoyment of that evening. Before that night, I’d never seen an interactive AMV like this one, and I don’t think I’ve seen any since. I believe that the video had just recently been made, and that ACEN was one of the first conventions it was shown at (if not the first). Because its creator made it specifically for public screenings, it was never put online until someone recorded it bootleg-style at another convention a year later. Now it’s become a convention staple, which is sort of a blessing and a curse. It’s great because this AMV is extremely creative and well-made, and deserves to be enjoyed by as many people as possible. At the same time, it’s a little unfortunate, given that every time I’ve seen it since, there have been many other viewers in attendance who’ve made it their mission to yell out the answers to the trickier parts of the video, essentially spoiling the surprises for anyone else who hadn’t seen the video.

There once was a time when conventions served as gathering points for anyone interested in this niche hobby, and were the only place that such videos could been seen. It’s been more than a decade since that was even remotely true, as practically all AMV sharing and viewing now takes place online. Convention attendance is still on the rise overall, but there are still lots of fans who have no idea that AMVs were once a featured attraction of them. Now that practically every AMV ever made can be viewed online — “lost” AMVs and those featuring music from Wind-Up Records aside — many fans don’t see the point of spending any time at a convention watching them. Obviously, they haven’t been in a packed room that’s showing this video. Although its impact is lessened with each viewing, it’s still a classic that makes any convention it’s shown at a little more fun than it would be without it.

Nabari No Ou

For the past year or two I’ve been watching about one episode of anime per day. Some days I watch two or three. Others I don’t watch any at all. So since I’m watching about 3 or 4 different series at once, it takes a month or more to get through a typical 26-episode series. I don’t blog about everything I watch. Hence, this blog has fallen on black days as of late. But nowhere in the midst of my casual viewing or busy schedule do I currently intend on shutting this blog down. I really like blogging. I don’t know why I don’t do it more often. I think I’m just content to privately reflect on most things that I watch rather than to try getting my thoughts down in any kind of review/essay. I know, I know. Should’ve figured that one out before starting this blog! But I like having this site as an expression of my fondness for different things I’ve enjoyed, and I like watching it (slowly) grow as a collection of my personal experiences in media or on the internet. I don’t know if I’m making any sense or not. This is my first day back at school after having a month off and I have a three-hour break in between classes. Been meaning to write something here and now is as good a time as any.

I’m not aware of Nabari no Ou having a sizable or particularly vocal fanbase. I wasn’t blogging quite yet when it was released in 2008-2009, but I was certainly on the internet and tuned in to what was popular at the time.  Having finished the series just after the holidays, I’m left wondering why that is. The series is a visual masterpiece, and the storytelling was particularly smart. I really enjoyed spending time with the characters and getting to know them. Do viewers only fall for characters who fit stereotypes or who possess generic anime traits? I know that’s a big generalization, but on a mass scale that’s what it seems like to me. Anyway, there’s a noticeable lack of fanart on the Internet for this series. I don’t know if that’s a good indicator of how big of a following a series has or not, but it’s what I’ve tended to use to gauge popularity. And I know it doesn’t matter if a series is popular or not, but it seems a crime that this one wasn’t a bigger hit than it was.

To my knowledge, there’s never been a real lack of action series featuring martial arts, so Nabari follows in a deep (some might say overused?) tradition. But its portrayal of ninjas and ninja culture is very different from, say, Naruto. Nabari depicts a complex world in which warring factions of ninjas exist in vast underground societies unknown to the rest of the world. Each are pursuing the Shinra Banshou, a source of great wisdom and power with potential to profoundly change the world. The exact nature of the Shinra Banshou and the intentions of those who want to obtain it are… well, the subject of a much more in-depth blog post than this one. To be honest, the Shinra Banshou is a MacGuffin, and fully understanding it isn’t completely essential to following the plot. The Shinra Banshou resides within the body of 14 year-old Miharu Rokujou, a quiet and aloof boy who unwillingly finds himself thrust into a power struggle for the secrets he carries. Initially, he’s protected by a teacher (Tobari) and a fellow student (Kouichi), both ninjas from the village of Banten. Also by his side is Raimei, a young samurai seeking to avenge her brother for the killing of their family. It would appear from the outset that there’s a clear divide between the protagonists and the antagonists, but after Miharu meets Yoite, a young ninja from the Kiroushu who has been cursed with the Kira, a deadly technique that makes him one of the strongest characters in the series, but which is also slowly killing him, the line between good and evil grows murky. The complex and shifting web of relationships and alliances in Nabari is one of the most engaging elements of the series, spurring growth and development in the individual characters that’s believable and intriguing.

What drew me to the series initially was the character design. Characters are drawn in particularly lanky style, maybe not as exaggerated as anything done by Clamp, but are undeniably svelte. I appreciated the detail to which they were drawn, and how often the animators changed characters’ outfits and appearances. It bugs me when characters wear the same clothes throughout an entire series. I understand the reasons for it, but I always like to see more variety, as is the case here. Facial features are especially detailed. Characters are extremely expressive, too. Altogether, the visuals in the series were as good as any I’ve seen before. The series has a look all its own, an undeniable identity that I feel sets it apart from most others released in the last five years.

Though Nabari focuses on conflicts within the ninja world, it’s not as action-packed as you might expect. There are battles and plenty of fight scenes, but many episodes contain no such action at all. This makes the action scenes particularly rewarding, and when such scenes do arise, they’re very well-composed and animated. The plot doesn’t completely hinge on the outcome of fights (though several are particularly important), but rather on the decisions that the characters make. The divide between the ninja world and the surface world is emphasized throughout the series, but the choices that the characters face are dilemmas that paint them as relatable, sympathetic people rather than exotic “fighters” with extreme powers. Each character plays an essential role in the series; there are no “useless” characters, as many fans love to hate these days.

Maybe I’m wrong (and I hope I am) but I feel like this series was slept on — Too slowly paced? Not enough fanservice? A morally grey plot that required viewers to actually think for themselves? Who knows. — and in the wake of Bleach ending and Naruto trudging into (another) often filler-interrupted story arc, I think this series could fill a void for viewers looking for a good shonen series to lose themselves in. The first few episodes didn’t completely hook me, but soon afterwards it became a lot more intriguing. Give it a half-dozen episodes and you’ll surely want to see it through to the end.

24 Hour Party People

Micheal Winterbottom’s 24 Hour Party People is a film that would probably hold a special place in the heart of anyone who grew up in the 70s and 80s during the punk/post-punk/early rave scene in the UK. But more likely, it’ll be enjoyed by younger viewers who only wish that they could’ve been around for it. The film came out in 2002, so its release conveniently coincided with the rise of file-sharing and music blogging, during which countless listeners suddenly had access to music that had been gathering dust in the corners of mainstream culture throughout the 90s. No, no one had forgotten about New Order, but only the loyalest readers of, say, Spin or something, could’ve possibly known who The Durutti Column, A Certain Ratio, or Happy Mondays were.

That’s not to say that punk rock or dance music had gone completely underground during the late 90s. Rather, their origins and mythologies, along with countless numbers of artists who’d broken new ground and helped define the scenes that gave birth to the music, were in the midst of slowly fading from public consciousness. Maybe it was just too soon for any kind of revival anyway, but even if the time had been right, how could it have even happened without the Internet to help it spread?

As curious listeners scoured the Internet for music new and old, a new musical pantheon of sorts, of which the Boomer generation had paid little notice to, was beginning to establish itself. In the US, you’d have been hard pressed to find many fans of indie rock (Pavement, Modest Mouse, Sebadoh, etc.) who knew or cared about Joy Division. Today, they’re as big of a gateway to “indie” music as The Pixies or Sonic Youth ever were. Furthermore, their brief existence, along with their transition into the much more successful New Order — whom Americans tend to lump into nostalgic “retro 80s” music along with bands like Simple Minds or Siouxsie and the Banshees – broke down barriers between “rock” music and “dance” music that artists are still exploring.

I don’t mean to write a musical thesis here (and what a trite one it would be if I were), or to suggest that I enjoy this film simply because it features a lot of music that I like. To be honest, I’ve actually begun to wonder if the film’s narrative and reliance on its audience’s familiarity/fascination with the scenes it follows is really its undoing. I’ve watched the movie with friends on three separate occasions. The first time (2003?) was with a small group of people who were big fans of indie music. They didn’t seem to follow what was going on and were confused by the narrative structure. The second time was with another friend who hadn’t heard of any of the “Madchester” scene or any of the bands featured in the film. He seemed to enjoy it, but the more we talked about it, the less it seemed that he understood any of it whatsoever. The final time (just a few years ago) was with my girlfriend. Not counting the first three Naruto movies, it’s the only film to date that we’ve watched together that she’s expressed a palpable disdain for.

Over the years I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the movie and trying to pin down exactly what it was that I enjoyed about it. I find its manically-edited, 4th wall-breaking structure, which certainly fits the out-of-control nature of the Manchester music scene during the late 70s to the late 80s, to suit the film and capture the energy of its subject. But what I love most are the characters, especially the protagonist Tony Wilson, whose total devotion to the DIY nature of the movement he finds himself caught up in, to be both hilarious and endearing. This gets to the heart of what I love most about the film, which is a portrait of fandom at its most involved and enthusiastic. Wilson wasn’t a participant in the music scene at the time, but his work presenting the artists he loved on his television show, and later creating a space for them to grow and build a scene out of (The Hacienda) established him as a great appreciator, a fan like so many others but one whose vision of the things he loved actualized into something concrete, recontextualizing the work of so many individual artists and bands into a cohesive movement. Granted, it was a movement that rose out of nowhere seemingly overnight and fell back underground just as quickly, but its influence would change the course of British music for good.

My hope for anyone watching this film for the first time would be that it isn’t viewed in historical terms or even musical terms, but that they would simply try to identify with Wilson’s belief in the movement that he was both building up and barely clinging to at the same time. Not content to passively participate in the music scene as a listener or concertgoer, he had a vision of the scene as something greater than it was and used his influence to bring it to life (much to the detriment of his personal life and career). In many ways, his efforts were a super-sized mirror of what other fandoms have tried to accomplish. Establishing Factory Records as a means to distribute his favorite music could be comparable to how fansubbers brought anime to a greater audience for the last thirty or so years. Opening The Hacienda as a gathering place for both his favorite bands and fellow-minded fans wasn’t much different from how anime and comic conventions sprung up to feed the desires of fans to have an immersive and social experience with their favorite hobby.

In short, I appreciate this movie as a tale of a subculture’s journey from the fringes of society to a fully-blown cultural phenomenon via the naive devotion of one man bold enough (or dumb enough, take your pick) to take something as socially trivial as music made by groups of outcasts very, very seriously. If you have a subculture-dwelling hobby or interest, imagine it suddenly becoming massively popular and acceptable, all due to a massive gamble or two from a small group of people. Maybe then you’ll start to get why this film can be so thrilling for some people, whose passions probably follow a similar track, while being boring and incomprehensible to others (who may still have niche interests, but are content to keep them personal and don’t see the appeal of blowing them up into paradigm-shifting movements for the masses). Again, as the Internet makes connecting with others who have extremely similar interests exponentially easier than ever, it’s easy to forget how hard it used to be for outcasts and misfits to find each other, let alone turn their obsessions into something concrete and bigger than themselves. But once in a great while, it did happen, and it changed the world for good. It’s an illustration of how it’s not always the subject that’s the most interesting thing — be it music, anime, comics, or whatever other hobby you can think of — but the culture that gels around it.

The trailer does do a good job of showcasing the film and summarizing some of my points about it. Too bad it has some of the corniest voiceover work I’ve ever heard.

AMV chronicles #18: Disney’s DTV Monster Hits

Between this TV special and the damage we did to our toy turntable via scratching and needle-dropping (to say nothing of the fun we had with dual-cassette deck in my first real stereo), I developed a fondness for remixing and plunderphonics that I wouldn’t find an outlet for until I was almost all grown up. This special blew my mind as a kid and showed me that music videos could be something else other than whatever was on MTV (which was a moot point, considering we didn’t have cable anyway). I’d think about this special quite often as I grew up, which I’m sure primed me for AMVs, once I finally discovered them many years later. I wonder if Disney ever realized how prescient this was to the impending mash-up culture that would later take over the media landscape. Sure, they’re just some silly videos, but in a lot of ways this was really ahead of its time.

Coolin’ by Sound #06

Sigur Rós - Valtari
I’m not sure why I bought this album on CD. I can listen to it at home on Spotify if I want to (yes, I subscribe) while in the car, it literally lulls me into a sleepy trance. Say what you will about Sigur Rós, but that’s not really what I want out of listening to them. A college roommate of mine used to listen to Ágætis byrjun while falling asleep. Unfortunately for me (or fortunately, whatever), it was so compelling that it would keep me awake. For me, it was engaging in a way that their music just isn’t anymore. There’s some really good moments on this album. In fact, the whole first side is full of surprises and those great emotional swells that the band is capable in ways that all their “post-rock” followers are only capable of imitating. But the rest of the record is beautiful background music, at best. I don’t feel much of an urge to put this on right now and I’m having trouble imagining when I’ll feel otherwise.

Windy and Carl – We Will Always Be
At this point W&C aren’t doing much to vary their sound, so if you were on board before this or even enjoy their earliest stuff, chances are you’ll like this. There’s an acoustic jam up front that invites the listener in, but after that it’s a series of spaced-out but warm dronings that recall some of their best work. This was a good soundtrack for summer stargazing and it’s spacious soundscapes are also just right as the cold air creeps in and the seasons change. The flower on the cover is appropriate; this is not another “trip into the void” album of tuneless psychedelic droning, but an organic album that lives and breathes.

Liturgy – Aesthetica
I don’t listen to much metal so I don’t know if I should be judging this album or not. But it’s something I’m working on. Hey, I listened to all of Reign in Blood yesterday! And I actually enjoyed it. So then there’s this record and wow, even I can tell why these guys are probably hated by all the “true” metalheads out there. Presumably, this is death metal, but it’s actually a pretty cheerful record. Maybe it has something to do with the key that all the songs are played in? I have no idea. I hate to overstate how “joyful” this all sounds but it’s pretty upbeat and positive, and I can see why that would rub some listeners of the metal scene the wrong way. Also, they sound a lot like Lightning Bolt, only with a more tonally pure focus. I really like this album. Also, I’m sure that the band would hate to read all this.

Flying Lotus – Pattern + Grid World
I’ve loved everything this guy has done until now. I was even onboard when 1983 was released! But I hate this EP. The songs have gotten too messy, with less structure than ever, with all his trademark sounds piling up in service of nothing. It’s not until the very end that something resembling the heights of Cosmogramma starts to emerge, but like that it’s over. This has to be a collection of outtakes from that album, otherwise I don’t see any reason for it to have been released.  Needless to say I’m a lot less excited about the new Flying Lotus album than I was before I heard this.

Mouse on Mars – Parastrophics
A long awaited album, for sure, one that feels like a split between the harsh noise of Radical Connector and the silliness of Niun Niggung. It has its moments but something feels off. No real standout track and a few clunkers (“They Know Your Name,” especially). I was hoping for a return to… any of the many things they used to do so well. They’re trying to supercharge their sound here but the structure feels stuck in mid 00′s limbo. I don’t want them to repeat themselves, only to make a more focused statement, or something like that.

Traxman – Da Mind of Traxman
I’m not saying I’ve heard a lot of them, but this is the best footwork album by a single artist that I’ve ever come across. Is this a genre that’s supposed to work in an album context? Are people supposed to sit at home and listen to this? As opposed to hearing it in its original context? I don’t know. The more that it does, the more that it’ll be absorbed by the white blogosphere (people like me, I guess). I just want it to stay underground and off the radar of Pitchfork and people like Girl Talk. Too late, I know. Get on this before hipsters ruin it!

The Orb feat. Lee “Scratch” Perry – The Observer in the Star House
I wasn’t the biggest fan of The Orb’s album with David Gilmore, so I was a little skeptical of yet another collaborative effort, even if it was with another musical legend. But this is a pairing that really works, and is a lot more fun. Perry’s vocals work well with the Orb’s production, and together it’s the best Orb album in at least ten years. Listen to the “Little Fluffy Clouds”-sampling “Golden Clouds” to get a taste.

Chromatics – Kill For Love
I loved the first Chromatics album, and Kill For Love begins on such a high note that I was sure it was going to surpass their older work. After a really good opening salvo of songs (a tremendous cover of “Into the Black,” the title track, “Back From the Grave”) it lapses into a stretch of tracks that don’t really go anywhere. There’s nothing as cool and chill as “In the City” or as textured and tense as their song from the Drive soundtrack. A lot of effort went into this monster of an album (91 minutes long!) but in the end it feels like a missed opportunity, or at least something that could have been paired down by a half hour or so.

AMV chronicles #17: Die Another Day

Here’s another stone-cold classic that every AMV fan needs to see. But like many great AMVs, this one spawned a series of copycats, so there’s a chance you’ve seen a Noir AMV featuring this song, but not the one that inspired them all. Don’t be fooled! I don’t know if this is the best AMV ever made, but it’s got to be considered one of the best action videos of all time, probably the best example of how to employ effects in an AMV, and one of the coolest AMVs I’ve ever seen. I’m not saying that I’ll ever be making anything one-tenth as good as this, but this has been a huge inspiration to me in my editing attempts whenever I find myself stuck (which is quite often).

Edited by VicBond007 way back in 2003, this still looks a lot better than most effect-heavy videos that are being produced today. A word of warning: if you haven’t yet seen Noir, you’ll probably want to after watching this.

AnimeWorld Chicago 2012

I’ve gone to Anime Central for the past five years in a row, so it
was a BFD when I missed it this year due to poor planning on my part and
its earlier-than-usual April weekend. This left me seething with regret
deep into the summer, not because ACEN is the perfect con or anything, but
because I’d missed out on my con fix and would have to wait a whole year to
get it again. The con experience – simply being surrounded by countless
other geeks in a safe environment filled with good vibes – is something I
always enjoy and sort of need on a semi-regular basis. So when I first read
about AnimeWorld Chicago, I became sort of obsessed with it. Here was an
upcoming con, close to home, that would help close out my summer. My
anticipation for this con couldn’t have been greater, but in hindsight I
can see that that my expectations were simply too great for what was to be
my first small convention.

Held in the O’Hare Hyatt, the same location that Anime Central calls
home, the setting was familiar and comfortable but the atmosphere was
decidedly different than what I was used to. While the hotel lobby was
jam-packed and abuzz with activity for Anime Central, I arrived to a
mostly-empty lobby for AnimeWorld Chicago. A cosplayer or two heading down the escalator was the only sign that there was an anime convention in town, so I followed them downstairs to the registration table, which was
well-organized and got me on my way within minutes. From there I was free
to do as I pleased, so I scoured the schedule for promising panels or other
goings-on.

Truth be told, I’d been looking over the schedule online during the
week before the convention, and there was very little listed that catered
toward any of my interests. Both Friday and Saturday looked like a wash,
with all the panels that I really wanted to go to – an introduction to
DJ’ing, “Japanese Folklore: An Anime Primer,” “Cowboys and Giant Robots:
The AMERICA Panel,” conducting celebrity interviews, a panel called “You
Only Hurt/Comfort the Ones You Love” – being held on Sunday, the only day
of the convention that I didn’t have off from work. Still, I was set on
being there on Friday anyway, vowed to make the best of the day and to try
to give panels that I wasn’t familiar with a fair chance.

My first stop was a panel was titled “Anime Sentai JamRanger, ” which
turned out to be a half-hour skit in which actors dressed in costumes
resembling Power Rangers battled with a masked villain that stole their
voices using a plastic sword. I don’t know what else to say about this.
Afterwards I should have attended the voice acting panel (hosted by real
voice actors) but instead, for whatever reason, I wandered around aimlessly
for an hour or two, playing both arcade and console games in the two
well-stocked video game rooms, walking through artist’s alley and the
dealer’s room and watching some anime in the video room. I was already
bored out of my mind, which I found really strange considering I was in my
element. I then walked down the block to the Akoo Theatre to buy tickets
for the Distant Worlds Final Fantasy concert in December (without the
ridiculous Ticketmaster service fees), which caused me to miss the
beginning of the designer plush toy panel. By the time I got to the room,
all the open spots at the tables were taken. I wasn’t sure if I’d be given
any materials to work with or if I’d have a chance of catching up to the
rest of the group if I sat by myself in the back, so I left and went in
search of other things to do.

Out of sheer curiosity I attended the Chii Sakurabi mini-concert,
which, like most of the rest of the day’s offerings, wasn’t necessarily bad
but simply wasn’t for me. Ms. Sakurabi put on an enthusiastic,
energy-filled set for a somewhat sparse crowd; apparently the “real”
concert would be held on Saturday and this was a warm-up of sorts. After
the abbreviated show ended I wandered into a martial arts sword demo hosted by a married couple who exchanged took turns playfully sniping at each other, slicing through foam (?) blocks and interacting with the crowd. I
wish I would have seen more of this, as it was the most entertaining event
of the convention that I was fortunate enough to catch.

I’d signed up to participate in a video game tournament and was
looking forward to seeing what mystery retro game would I’d be playing for
it, but unfortunately arrived in the video game room too late and missed my
call to battle other players at Super Mario Kart. I then visited the “Name
That Anime Tune!” panel, which was set up like a game show for a handful of
contestants at the front of the room to compete for prizes. I only stayed
at this for about ten minutes; the panel hosts’ banter derailed the flow of
the game and sort of ruined what was one of the only “general anime” panels
of the day that stood a chance of entertaining me. I know that makes me
sound entitled, demanding or condescending, which isn’t my intent at all.
This day of programming just wasn’t tailored for my interests. Neither was
Saturday’s schedule, which is why I changed my plans and didn’t attend for
a second day at all. I did enjoy the AMV contest, which was presented in a
large room with two big screens, a better setup than the small AMV room
that ACEN had two years ago. And Anime Hell was enjoyable as ever, so I
left with a smile on my face, at least.

I debated whether or not I should publish this round-up at all, since
a lot of it doesn’t exactly reflect positively on AnimeWorld Chicago at
all. But this was 90% due to myself and the needs that I brought to the
con, which were probably too unrealistic for such a small con to satisfy. I
think that a big part of the draw for me at ACEN (and Sakura-Con) is the
sheer size and scope of the con, the teeming masses and the impossibility
of seeing everything, no matter how hard you might try. I’ve read lots of
accounts from con-goers who prefer the smaller cons like this, and I wish I
could see things their way. To end on a more positive note, AnimeWorld
Chicago was run exceptionally well for what it was. The staff was
professional and courteous, and everything that I attended started on time
and went off without a hitch. I’d be open to visiting this convention
again, but only if the schedule delivers panels and events that I really
care about on days that I’m available to attend. In short, I want this
convention to cater itself to my tastes, and I know that is unfair and can
never happen.