So this summer I spent a few weeks in Singapore with my girlfriend and a few of her more culturally-aware friends, who directed us to a massive student music/art/hang-out kind of festival, where I think I even got my hand stamped in glow-in-the-dark. Anyway they had a stage with bands and DJs alternating sets. We heard Hong, who's in residence at Zouk, and unknown to us at the time, a three-piece act called Van She.
Now, being fans of Justice, worshiping at the altar of Daft Punk, and tirelessly scouring the internet for SebastiAn's scattered tracks and remixes, you'd think we would realize the magnitude of our chance encounter with these admittedly softer but still entrancing electro reps from down under, but, um, I think I just mocked them for not using enough guitar or something. Aside from my rock-chauvanist naivite, these guys drenched us with some pretty textured synth/electro/pop, all in all enjoyable stuff. We had a good time but still had no clue who the hell these guys were. They certainly acted like rock stars, or at least, over-emoted enough dramatic rock posturing to leave us with the lingering suspicion that everyone around us including the band were in on something we weren't.
Flip a few weeks ahead, I'm listening to Klaxons remixes, and here are these guys again laying down the one mix I've been digging most the whole time, of Gravity's Rainbow. So yeah, a lot of pleasant surprises all around, and now Van She's got an album coming out October 7th, so hopefully it's just one more to add to the list.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Monday, August 25, 2008
Way of the Dragon
What began with a badass-factor respect and reverence for Bruce Lee, and the all-too-common shallow Jackie Chan fandom of the American action movie demographic, I embarked on a six-month journey into Hong Kong's kung fu cinema that, finally, is beginning to show some results. But first, the Bruce.
I think every kid my age grows up with the presence of Bruce Lee in some vestige of pop culture. He's on ironic 'Bruce Lee is My Homeboy' t-shirts in Hot-Topic. His movies play on the young male oriented Spike TV. He is, I think, generally considered the most famous, influential, and legitimately formidable martial artist in the history of the sport.
But Bruce's real legacy is the introduction of martial arts films, long dominant in Hong Kong cinema, to the American mainstream. This is illustrated no better than in the partnership of Warner Bros. with the upstart Golden Harvest studios of Hong Kong. Whether they knew it or not, in allowing the film to be filmed and produced largely in Hong Kong, Warner Bros. ensured that the film would carry the authenticity of a true kung fu film.
I haven't seen the movie in a long time, and honestly, I'm afraid to have my initial impressions dulled by my more recent exposure to a fuller selection of kung fu. I think, despite the domestic production, the film still in some ways looked toward its American audience more, and to me doesn't even rate up with some of Bruce's other work. I'd take Fist of Fury or Way of the Dragon over Enter the Dragon's slow moving plot and underwhelming fight scenes.
My main problem with Bruce Lee may be the essence of the martial arts he practiced. Most kung fu movies depict traditional styles, gracefully planned movements that are beautiful, complicated, showy, and in many ways, entirely ineffective in real combat. Bruce Lee understood this, and strove to pragmatically implement the best of any fighting style he encountered into a unified, cohesive fighting system.
Through his 'Jeet Kune Do' or 'Way of the Intercepting Fist' he hoped to "free [his] followers from clinging to styles, patterns, or molds." Traditonal fighting styles were largely ornamental, and Bruce wanted results. "Some martial arts are very popular, real crowd pleasers, because they look good, have smooth techniques. But beware. They are like a wine that has been watered. A diluted wine is not a real wine, not a good wine, hardly the genuine article. Some martial arts don't look so good, but you know that they have a kick, a tang, a genuine taste. They are like olives. The taste may be strong and bittersweet. The flavor lasts. You cultivate a taste for them. No one ever developed a taste for diluted wine."
As a fan of kung fu cinema and not the art of fighting itself, I prefer watching the intricate, choreographed fight sequences of fanciful, and yes, "crowd-pleasing" martial arts. But that doesn't take away from my respect or enjoyment of Bruce. It's just that for me, he is in another category all together. The extra flourishes and hyperboles of kung fu make up the wonder for me, the fascination. It's this combination of mystical, spiritual, and physical mastery that enraptures me as a kung fu fan. Bruce Lee is inescapably a part of this legacy, both a product of the kung fu tradition and far-thinking pioneer. As a relative newbie to a genre that commands a legion of die-hard fans and an underground culture of respect, I still obviously have much to learn, and somewhere along the line my love of Bruce will reconcile itself with everything else. He is, after all, a legend, the man that finally combined the magic of kung fu on the silver screen with the reality of martial arts as a form of combat and a way of life.
I think every kid my age grows up with the presence of Bruce Lee in some vestige of pop culture. He's on ironic 'Bruce Lee is My Homeboy' t-shirts in Hot-Topic. His movies play on the young male oriented Spike TV. He is, I think, generally considered the most famous, influential, and legitimately formidable martial artist in the history of the sport.
But Bruce's real legacy is the introduction of martial arts films, long dominant in Hong Kong cinema, to the American mainstream. This is illustrated no better than in the partnership of Warner Bros. with the upstart Golden Harvest studios of Hong Kong. Whether they knew it or not, in allowing the film to be filmed and produced largely in Hong Kong, Warner Bros. ensured that the film would carry the authenticity of a true kung fu film.
I haven't seen the movie in a long time, and honestly, I'm afraid to have my initial impressions dulled by my more recent exposure to a fuller selection of kung fu. I think, despite the domestic production, the film still in some ways looked toward its American audience more, and to me doesn't even rate up with some of Bruce's other work. I'd take Fist of Fury or Way of the Dragon over Enter the Dragon's slow moving plot and underwhelming fight scenes.
My main problem with Bruce Lee may be the essence of the martial arts he practiced. Most kung fu movies depict traditional styles, gracefully planned movements that are beautiful, complicated, showy, and in many ways, entirely ineffective in real combat. Bruce Lee understood this, and strove to pragmatically implement the best of any fighting style he encountered into a unified, cohesive fighting system.
Through his 'Jeet Kune Do' or 'Way of the Intercepting Fist' he hoped to "free [his] followers from clinging to styles, patterns, or molds." Traditonal fighting styles were largely ornamental, and Bruce wanted results. "Some martial arts are very popular, real crowd pleasers, because they look good, have smooth techniques. But beware. They are like a wine that has been watered. A diluted wine is not a real wine, not a good wine, hardly the genuine article. Some martial arts don't look so good, but you know that they have a kick, a tang, a genuine taste. They are like olives. The taste may be strong and bittersweet. The flavor lasts. You cultivate a taste for them. No one ever developed a taste for diluted wine."
As a fan of kung fu cinema and not the art of fighting itself, I prefer watching the intricate, choreographed fight sequences of fanciful, and yes, "crowd-pleasing" martial arts. But that doesn't take away from my respect or enjoyment of Bruce. It's just that for me, he is in another category all together. The extra flourishes and hyperboles of kung fu make up the wonder for me, the fascination. It's this combination of mystical, spiritual, and physical mastery that enraptures me as a kung fu fan. Bruce Lee is inescapably a part of this legacy, both a product of the kung fu tradition and far-thinking pioneer. As a relative newbie to a genre that commands a legion of die-hard fans and an underground culture of respect, I still obviously have much to learn, and somewhere along the line my love of Bruce will reconcile itself with everything else. He is, after all, a legend, the man that finally combined the magic of kung fu on the silver screen with the reality of martial arts as a form of combat and a way of life.
Ornithology
Another early summer morning. My eyes are puffy, crusty, still a little heavy, and the blue jays are shrieking over the more gentle stylings of our resident sparrows.
God, this place is mobbed with jays, about 6 of them hopping around the rolls my dad threw out from yesterday's chicken dinner. It reminds me of that Mark Twain bit about the jays being most expressive birds, that they know how to talk best, or something. I take it as a good sign that a lone goldfinch stopped over at our birdbath for a drink. The state bird usually makes himself scarce around these parts.
My girlfriend once commented on how cute it was (?) that I get a kick out of these critters roaming my backyard. I wouldn't say I'm an amateur birdwatcher by any means, because, for one thing, I think you're either a birdwatcher or you aren't. There's no room for casual birdwatching. I'd say once you get out the binoculars and plan an excursion to your local state park for some avian action, then maybe you've crossed the line.
I just like watching them, it's pretty zen, gets me out of my head for a bit and relaxes me. But sometimes this place looks like a zoo, and being the only kind of wildlife we have around here, it's cool to see how many different birds find a reason to be here. We've got sparrows and blue jays as I've mentioned, mourning doves, robins (gone by this time in the summer), red-headed finches, grackles, starlings, crows, cardinals, catbirds, mockingbirds, some kind of woodpecker, etc.
Remember that scene in Jurassic Park where they see the dinosaurs for the first time in giant herds like on the Serengeti or something and the music's triumphant yet mysterious, maybe foreboding, but magnificent no less, and they have that dumbstruck look on their faces, it's like they're delirious. Well my backyard is nothing like that, but the birds all walking around each other kind of look like the roaming dinosaurs. Sans dramatic music&gargantuan proportions.
Anyway, after about two months of waking up at around 6:30 for work, I think I'm finally getting used to it. My perception of summer is largely still influenced by my childhood/teenage schedule of staying up into the early morning watching movies or going online, and waking up around 10, 11, 12, 1, etc to a frigid air-conditioned room. But it's coming along.
I still have that raw, clean mouth feeling you get after a yearly checkup and vigorous scrape-down from the dentist. Funny how after dutifully brushing my teeth for a year and generally taking good care of my mouth, the dentist still gets to spend a half hour digging into my teeth and gums with a metal hook. Yes, very reassuring, spitting out blood and the plaque that I thought should not have been there because of my consistent dental habits. They gotta make that money somehow.
- The one bird I would watch: Charlie Parker, given the chance
- My dentist's judgment of Rutgers' choice for the season opener: ambitious (i.e. stupid). Why not Buffalo?
God, this place is mobbed with jays, about 6 of them hopping around the rolls my dad threw out from yesterday's chicken dinner. It reminds me of that Mark Twain bit about the jays being most expressive birds, that they know how to talk best, or something. I take it as a good sign that a lone goldfinch stopped over at our birdbath for a drink. The state bird usually makes himself scarce around these parts.
My girlfriend once commented on how cute it was (?) that I get a kick out of these critters roaming my backyard. I wouldn't say I'm an amateur birdwatcher by any means, because, for one thing, I think you're either a birdwatcher or you aren't. There's no room for casual birdwatching. I'd say once you get out the binoculars and plan an excursion to your local state park for some avian action, then maybe you've crossed the line.
I just like watching them, it's pretty zen, gets me out of my head for a bit and relaxes me. But sometimes this place looks like a zoo, and being the only kind of wildlife we have around here, it's cool to see how many different birds find a reason to be here. We've got sparrows and blue jays as I've mentioned, mourning doves, robins (gone by this time in the summer), red-headed finches, grackles, starlings, crows, cardinals, catbirds, mockingbirds, some kind of woodpecker, etc.
Remember that scene in Jurassic Park where they see the dinosaurs for the first time in giant herds like on the Serengeti or something and the music's triumphant yet mysterious, maybe foreboding, but magnificent no less, and they have that dumbstruck look on their faces, it's like they're delirious. Well my backyard is nothing like that, but the birds all walking around each other kind of look like the roaming dinosaurs. Sans dramatic music&gargantuan proportions.
Anyway, after about two months of waking up at around 6:30 for work, I think I'm finally getting used to it. My perception of summer is largely still influenced by my childhood/teenage schedule of staying up into the early morning watching movies or going online, and waking up around 10, 11, 12, 1, etc to a frigid air-conditioned room. But it's coming along.
I still have that raw, clean mouth feeling you get after a yearly checkup and vigorous scrape-down from the dentist. Funny how after dutifully brushing my teeth for a year and generally taking good care of my mouth, the dentist still gets to spend a half hour digging into my teeth and gums with a metal hook. Yes, very reassuring, spitting out blood and the plaque that I thought should not have been there because of my consistent dental habits. They gotta make that money somehow.
- The one bird I would watch: Charlie Parker, given the chance
- My dentist's judgment of Rutgers' choice for the season opener: ambitious (i.e. stupid). Why not Buffalo?
Sunday, August 24, 2008
yeah, hey
Inspired by Daily Kos and the countless music blogs I routinely pillage for free music, I've decided to give back to the internet some of the time I've spent idly poring over the whimsical html of people I'll never know. I think my ticket to this scene was the music aggregators that show the most downloaded tracks/artists, and lead to blog posts with free mp3s. Really I was just looking for new music I might enjoy that was unavailable anywhere else.
In hindsight I can't believe how the majority of the people I know rely on word of mouth, chance radio station spins or MTV lineups to hear new music or any other viral cultural meme that springs up. To know that there is a living, pulsing chaos of people out on the internet just bringing cool stuff to other people's attention really fascinates me. Everything bubbles up from the bottom, getting swirled around until it catches a wave to the mainstream. Feels pretty good down here on the front lines though.
Blogging as a medium is still uncomfortable for me, the motions feel awkward. I guess it's because I'm used to communication having an intended target, and being able to write with that person in mind. Otherwise whatever I'm trying to say feels too amorphous to formulate in my head and set down. This is gonna be a little rough. But so is trying to work out after a year + off the weights, and rather than put off all these re-starts, I'll begin pushing through them now with this inaugural blog post.
In hindsight I can't believe how the majority of the people I know rely on word of mouth, chance radio station spins or MTV lineups to hear new music or any other viral cultural meme that springs up. To know that there is a living, pulsing chaos of people out on the internet just bringing cool stuff to other people's attention really fascinates me. Everything bubbles up from the bottom, getting swirled around until it catches a wave to the mainstream. Feels pretty good down here on the front lines though.
Blogging as a medium is still uncomfortable for me, the motions feel awkward. I guess it's because I'm used to communication having an intended target, and being able to write with that person in mind. Otherwise whatever I'm trying to say feels too amorphous to formulate in my head and set down. This is gonna be a little rough. But so is trying to work out after a year + off the weights, and rather than put off all these re-starts, I'll begin pushing through them now with this inaugural blog post.
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