Two punk icons take Cole Porter's high society shimmer and drag it through a few punk cliches. Not jazz, not punk, all fun. Special mention goes to Rodan, as the party crasher, and Debbie's "la la la la" cresendo: a single moment without irony.
The White Stripes demonstrate that punk isn't dead, it just has something else to do.
Most of Elvis Costello's recent material is so lame that it's got folks reevaluating his previous work. Now, that's gotta suck. My advice: Listen to the old stuff and remember the first time you heard it. Junior high schooler, sitting in your bedroom, LP spinning in the dark, imagining that this strange man from England was going to save rock and roll. And maybe even your life. Enjoy.
Update: Here's the infamous, blisteringly ad hoc performance of "Radio, Radio" on Saturday Night Live in 1977. This is the one that had Lorne Michaels giving him the finger from the wings, and got Elvis banned from SNL for years to come.
Salon's fantastically readable indie movie critic, Andrew O'Hehir, sends this list from Cannes. Of them all, I'm getting sweaty palms thinking about Control directed by Anton Corbijn:Corbijn's film is a glum, black-and-white period piece about Ian Curtis, the late singer in the legendary English post-punk band Joy Division, and there are only two possible reactions to that information. It's either "Who cares? or "What do I have to do to see it?" Samantha Morton stars as Curtis' wife, Deborah (the film is based on her book), with unknown Sam Riley as the espresso-depresso gloomster champion of his time.
Corbijn's music videos for Depeche Mode, Nirvana, and others were beautiful and perfectly tuned into their times. I wonder how well he does with late 70's England? And speaking of which, Ian and the boys appeared in 24 Hour Party People a few years back. It wasn't really their story, but I still hightly recommend it to anyone who loves post-punk music and gloomy dudes singing death disco.
