Marissa Flaxbart

Beck's Latest Genius: Record Club

If you know me well, you probably know that my musical tastes are many and varied, and that I love Beck. For a long time, I prided myself on having every Beck album it was possible to have, but then Guero and the internet came along and complicated that process by generating a frenzied proliferation of remixes and new versions…let's just say I can no longer claim ownership of the "complete" Beck collection.

That said, I am thrilled that Wired magazine provided me with the hot tip on Beck's latest project, in which he and various musical friends get together and record covers of every song from a classic or ubiquitous album. It's called Record Club, and you can listen to/watch videos of all of the tracks from the first edition online for free on Beck.com or vimeo. The album they chose for the first round? The Velvet Underground and Nico, the Velvet Underground's iconic, Warhol-bananaed first record. How perfect is that? Like everyone else on the planet, I was officially introduced to this classic album during my freshman year of college (thanks, Alec!), and the playfully bizarre tracklist seems perfectly suited to Beck's always-evolving musical ethos and natural weirdness. 

Check out my favorite track from the original album, Beck-ified:

Record Club: Velvet Underground & Nico "Venus In Furs" from Beck Hansen on Vimeo.

In the Loop ★★★★

The latest from my film review blog, Cineplexus.

The past few years have been jam packed with movies showcasing different perspectives on the Middle East, and on war in the Middle East specifically. Babel, Rendition, Grace is Gone…not too many of these movies have been gutbusters. I cannot, nor will I ever, subject myself to Delta Farce, so I can't speak to its comedic value. But British comedy In the Loop manages to offer an original, scathing take on Western government that is both hilarious and timely, even if its references to going to war in the Middle East refer largely to events that have long since passed.

The film focuses on a few mid-level figures in both the English and the American government, and is thus set in London and D.C. The role each government's minor players begin to take on ineach other's worlds builds until it has a major effect on world events. If that sounds pretty serious, that's the beauty of In the Loop. Throughout the film, serious events are unfolding at the hands of especially un-serious people. And the most threatening figures are also the most hilarious – two Scots who can't go more that a few seconds without swearing while screaming are in charge of the English government's public relations.

A constant barrage of accents, sycophants, sarcasm, and cultural-reference jokes keep what could be a dry political "thriller" a fresh, funny, and biting political comedy. Go see it at your local indie house ASAP if you're good with accents (Chicagoans, it's showing at the Landmark Century at least through this weekend). Otherwise, wait for the subtitled DVD so you won't miss a beat.

Two Airports, Two Ads, Two Positions

Back from California, and I'm riding the sweet, sweet El Train, which I will be very fond of for the next few weeks as I recover from all the driving I did in LA.

I had a layover in Las Vegas. 3 hours. It was plenty of time to explore my terminal, which had, In addition to slot machines with no coin slots and advertisements directed at "Canadian Gamblers," one big sign suggesting that I spend some of my free time shooting guns at a nearby shooting gallery. There was an image of a white-toothed, young, blonde woman toting a semi-automatic rifle and grinning with Second Amendment pride, along with one of those human-shaped targets and a list of guns that were available for shooting. A long list. This whole collage struck me as patently bizarre. If I had any curiousity as to why I found it so strange, it was addressed the moment I sat down on this train and looked around. It's all about the culture.

Above my head at the moment is a banner ad - the kind that plaster every vehicle in the CTA's brigade. I've seen it before. It features pictures of little children, the theoretical victims of gun violence. Turn in a gun, it says, and you will be rewarded with a prepaid MasterCard. B.B. Guns are worth $10, and (regular, bullet) guns will get you $50. Assault weapons like the ones young women seem to enjoy shooting in Nevada? $100. 

I have an opinion on guns ("they are scary"), and I'm sure Vegas has gun haters, just as the Midwest has (many) gun lovers. But that's not the point of these musings. It's just so curious what a difference a couple thousand miles makes.

L.A. County, USA

For the first time in my life, I'm in California. In Los Angeles, to be precise, though there's little precision to be found in the area. This visit has been a long time coming, and to be honest, there's a bittersweet aspect to it all. It's like going backstage at your favorite theater or meeting an esteemed celebrity - a little bit of mystery has disappeared from life, and even if the experience is better than you'd imagined, it's never exactly what you pictured. And while experience and knowledge is gaIned, that old fantasy disintegrates and is difficult to recall.

I've actually managed to see quite a bit of the area over the past few days. I'm staying with a friend in Marina del Rey, so I've checked out nearby Venice (I walked around Abbot Kinney and Windward; it was eclectic in a way I really enjoyed), Santa Monica (by the ocean it felt shiny and vacationy), and Culver City (I went to Target). I also ventured downtown, which was gritty in the old parts and sparkling I the new parts, and these parts are awkwardly jammed together again and again. I didn't hate it.

I was prepared for the extended sprawl of the metro area many a time, but it's more astonishng in person than I could have imagined. It took me 10 minutes to drive from one end of downtown to the other, but one could drive another 15 just to get to Midtown. Clusters of high-rises spring up every so often, and it's possible to enter a freeway by accident. At home in Chicago, I have no car. It's a different world. A world of highways and palm trees and year-round outdoor dining around every corner.

Parts of LA have reminded me, in turn, of Humboldt Park, of Rome, of Albuquerque on steroids, and of Wilmette. But I've finally decided that I'd feel more comfortable here if I commit to a moratorium on comparisons. After all, when visiting Rome, Munich, or London, I was prepared to take in something totally new and different, and was always fascinated by what I found. It may ne an American city, but LA has grocery stores I've never heard of and insects I've never seen. So, trying as it may be, I'm going to put the analysis aside for the next few days and just allow myself to be fascinated.

A Massachusetts Wedding

Yesterday, I attended one of the lowest-key weddings I've ever been to. It was also one of the loveliest.

It's my first trip to New England, and the first thing I did after arriving in Boston was to hop onto the Logan Express bus to nearby Framingham, and then into a cab to a kind of managed forest called Garden in the Woods. It's a forest with trails and flowers and signs illustrating which plants are endangered or invasive. And there's a tent on the top of a slow-sloping hill with a stage at the foot – the site of the wedding I was attending, and the reception afterward.

Gabe and Hilary and their families seem so kindred that the whole affair was a preternaturally relaxed affair. As a friend who also played a small part in the wedding, I was part of a larger group of people in charge of set-up and clean-up. Hilary's grandma made the cake, everyone brought food (in addition to some catering) and everyone decorated the pathway down to the stage together. There was a live band playing dance music all night, and they even let me sing a song with them for the couple (the great-but-cheesy "We've Only Just Begun," which I have never sung before but somehow know the words to).

The entire wedding and party was a pure celebration, with singing, dancing, guitar playing, and lots of eating and drinking. That's what a wedding is really about, right? Celebrating the rare jewel that is real, enduring love. Maybe the fact that many marriages don't endure in that way is a reflection of how few weddings really manage to be that kind of celebration. Maybe not. Just something to think about.

Best wishes, Mr. and Mrs. Holbrow.