The Prodigy have released a video for “Take Me to the Hospital”, the new single off their latest album, Invaders Must Die. A number of remixes are floating around, one of which, available exclusively on iTunes, features full-time Queen of the Stone Age and occasional Crooked Vulture, Josh Homme.
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An adaptation of Cormac McCarthy’s Pulitzer Prize winning novel The Road will be released on October 16th in theaters. The film stars Viggo Mortenson, Robert Duvall, Charlize Theron, and Guy Pearce as survivors amidst a wasteland caused by an unknown natural disaster, and centers on the story of a man (Mortenson) and his young son (Kodi Smit-McPhee) as they trek the desolate landscape. Their journey is not devoid of hazard as they must escape the clutches of cannibalistic tribesmen. Monochromatic and dirty, The Road‘s barren visuals have a distinct numbing effect. Hillcoat gives The Road an undeniably haunting and biting realism.
Twenty-three years ago this week: New Order released Brotherhood, gifting upon the world “Bizarre Love Triangle”, the only single from the album, which couldn’t manage to make it higher than #56 on the U.K. charts.
“As It Is When It Was”
“Broken Promise” (with “State of the Nation”)
“Bizarre Love Triangle” [Single released November 15, 1986]
“Every Little Counts”
The Flaming Lips’ “I Can Be a Frog” is the creepy-for-the-sake-of-creepy lead single from the new album Embryonic, which is set to be released on October 13th off Warner Bros. It is modestly strange—or strangely modest by the Lips’ standards—and possibly the weirdest empowerment song I’ve ever heard. “I Can Be a Frog” harmonizes Wayne Coyne’s ghostly falsetto and a quirky barnyard cacophony, courtesy of the one and only Karen O. This is all backed by a spooky soundtrack reminiscent of those Halloween mix tapes of “scary noises” your parents bought for the house in hopes of freaking you or your friends out when you were young and impressionable. Well, for the Flaming Lips, it works:
From Paris With Love
Director: Pierre Morel
Cast: John Travolta, Jonathan Rhys Meyers, Melissa Mars
Opening: 5 February 2010
Jonathan Rhys Meyers is a greenhorn at the U.S. Ambassador’s office, and John Travolta is a (possibly crooked) secret agent. The movie algebra on this one is pretty transparent: take the inverse of Training Day, subtract any modicum of authenticity, and add as many explosions as possible. The bouncing brass and rakish shuffle of the soundtrack, the Bond-aping title, and the references to The Transporter strongly suggest that this film is all shot, no powder.
Travolta plays what might be termed a “bad ass” for the umpteenth time, and watching him in the role is, as usual, perverse and uncomfortable. He gives the impression of an unsettled man, not in a villainous, sinister way, but in a slimy, insecure way. Like in the wretched remake of The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3, he will swear copiously as his wormy muscles striate all over his body, and it will all seem very forced. The typical John Travolta rogue has bought into tropes of coolness and masculinity to such a degree that he exists only as a wrongheaded approximation of a man, a socially mutated human being, seething with misplaced hatred. He is such an unconvincing brute that I suspect if he does many more of these roles, scholars in later generations are going to think he’s a great satirist.
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