I was wrong about The Sopranos.
...or WAS I?
The show ended on a typically open-ended, ambiguous note, par for the course, as anyone who watches the show should know. Of course the interwebs were ablaze with numerous postings, articles and suchlike. Many of these armchair producers were whining and crying that they didn't get a "real ending," that it "denied them closure." Fuck them. If they want neat, pat endings, they should stick with Entourage. Real life doesn't end in a nice, neat bundle. Threads dangle, sometimes forever. I realize we watch fiction precisely because it's the rare place where everything can come to a ciomplete ending, but I think these folks would have been even more disappointed if David Chase had brought every single plot element back in for a contrived ending.
I was just happy that Phil Leotardo got shot, and then had his head run over by an SUV. That was all the closure I needed.
Showing posts with label television. Show all posts
Showing posts with label television. Show all posts
11 June 2007
09 June 2007
You Don't Need a Gynecologist to Know Which Way the Wind Blows
The Sopranos ends tomorrow night.
I don't know if The Sopranos is the best TV show ever, but it is certainly ONE of the best shows ever. When the show debuted way back when, it was accompanied by a wave of hype which, frankly, turned me off, and coupled with the fact that at the time we didn't have HBO, I didn't watch the first season as it aired. But HBO reran the series and my curiosity got the best of me so I had a friend with digital cable tape the first season for me (thanks again, Jimmie!) and I was hooked. I'm not made of stone, people.
In fact, Vitamin Jen and I liked it so much, we upgraded to digital cable just so we could watch The Sopranos as each episode aired. And despite the fact that the show's creators got a little arrogant, taking upwards of 18 months off between seasons, I am and always will be a fan of the show.
Meaning that when he final episode airs tomorrow at 9 p.m., well, since I'lll probably be slugging down some bourbon, or at least a Woodpecker, all through the broadcast, there may be tears when those final credits roll.
Here's my speculation as to what's gonna go down:
Due to the show's overall tone and based on previous story arcs, I am among those who thinks that Tony Soprano will be killed in the final episode. My theory is that Paulie Walnuts has been working with Phil Leotardo on the sly and that he will be the one who plugs Big T. Remember that Paulie was kissing up to Johnny Sack several seasons ago, so we know that he has considered jumping ship before, and in last week's episode, Sil and Bobby told Paulie they were gonna whack Phil at Phil's goomar's house, and then Phil magically never shows up and the goomar's father got whacked instead. Phil's absence was explained as Phil having left town immediately after ordering the hits on Tony, Sil and Bobby, but this was just speculation on Tony and Sil's part. And in that vein, when we saw Phil's lieutenant Butchie discussing the three killings (Tony, Sil and Bobby), one of the crew asked if they were gonna whack Paulie. Butchie said no -- protecting their inside man? One final tidbit: It has been widely reported, since the series began, that Tony Sirico, the actor who plays Paulie Walnuts, agreed to take the role on the condition that his character never "turn rat," and I've seen these anecdoyes circualting again in press accounts of the show's finale. I think that's a big ol' red herrring. I think when he said "turn rat," Sirico just meant that his character would never go to the Feds -- I think it's entirely reasonable that Paulie would join a new crew if he thought it was in his best interests.
Based on all of the above, that's what I think is going to go down. But then, predicting what's going to happen on The Sopranos is not an easy thing to do, which is one of the reasons why the show is so beloved by its fans. And why it will be missed.
I don't know if The Sopranos is the best TV show ever, but it is certainly ONE of the best shows ever. When the show debuted way back when, it was accompanied by a wave of hype which, frankly, turned me off, and coupled with the fact that at the time we didn't have HBO, I didn't watch the first season as it aired. But HBO reran the series and my curiosity got the best of me so I had a friend with digital cable tape the first season for me (thanks again, Jimmie!) and I was hooked. I'm not made of stone, people.
In fact, Vitamin Jen and I liked it so much, we upgraded to digital cable just so we could watch The Sopranos as each episode aired. And despite the fact that the show's creators got a little arrogant, taking upwards of 18 months off between seasons, I am and always will be a fan of the show.
Meaning that when he final episode airs tomorrow at 9 p.m., well, since I'lll probably be slugging down some bourbon, or at least a Woodpecker, all through the broadcast, there may be tears when those final credits roll.
Here's my speculation as to what's gonna go down:
Due to the show's overall tone and based on previous story arcs, I am among those who thinks that Tony Soprano will be killed in the final episode. My theory is that Paulie Walnuts has been working with Phil Leotardo on the sly and that he will be the one who plugs Big T. Remember that Paulie was kissing up to Johnny Sack several seasons ago, so we know that he has considered jumping ship before, and in last week's episode, Sil and Bobby told Paulie they were gonna whack Phil at Phil's goomar's house, and then Phil magically never shows up and the goomar's father got whacked instead. Phil's absence was explained as Phil having left town immediately after ordering the hits on Tony, Sil and Bobby, but this was just speculation on Tony and Sil's part. And in that vein, when we saw Phil's lieutenant Butchie discussing the three killings (Tony, Sil and Bobby), one of the crew asked if they were gonna whack Paulie. Butchie said no -- protecting their inside man? One final tidbit: It has been widely reported, since the series began, that Tony Sirico, the actor who plays Paulie Walnuts, agreed to take the role on the condition that his character never "turn rat," and I've seen these anecdoyes circualting again in press accounts of the show's finale. I think that's a big ol' red herrring. I think when he said "turn rat," Sirico just meant that his character would never go to the Feds -- I think it's entirely reasonable that Paulie would join a new crew if he thought it was in his best interests.
Based on all of the above, that's what I think is going to go down. But then, predicting what's going to happen on The Sopranos is not an easy thing to do, which is one of the reasons why the show is so beloved by its fans. And why it will be missed.
31 May 2007
Shut Your Cakehole, Caruso
Somewhere, there’s a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow missing a very solemn, very fugly leprechaun dressed in black.
If there is a more ludicrous television characterization than that of Lieutenant Horatio Caine as played by David Caruso on CSI: Miami, I haven’t seen it. For those of you who don’t watch the show, Caruso stars as the ringleader of a squad of crime scene investigators who work in and around Miami. Aside from the obvious gaffes – like, which hack writer thought the name “Horatio” would inspire anything besides eye-rolling and/or snickers? -- CSI: Miami deserves special praise for using so many formulaic ticks and gestures to flesh out Caine’s persona in lieu of any actual character development.
Caruso’s Caine is such a smug, obnoxious prick that I can’t help but wonder if Caruso is portraying him that way deliberately. He’s certainly nailed down a few gestures and mannerisms that just annoy the living shit out of me – so much so that I get a masochistic thrill out of watching the show just so I can see how many times in any given episode that, for example, Caruso puts his hands on his hips, turns his head so he’s not directly looking at any other actor and then delivers his portentous pronouncements as if he’s some brilliant, infallible, inscrutable cross between Sherlock Holmes, Mr. Spock and Socrates. If you’ve ever seen one of these instances of TV magic and not felt an immediate urge to bludgeon Caruso with a heavy object, than you must be a robot or something.
And as CSI: Miami prepares to launch yet another season next fall, there are literally hundreds of scenes of Caine putting on those fucking sunglasses while delivering a supposedly witty bon mot with the same exact vocal inflections. I’ve seen more varied and nuanced performances in old Clutch Cargo cartoons. Why, somebody should make a clip that strings a bunch of ‘em together, so you can see what I’m talking about.
Oh wait, somebody did:
I like the way the person who edited this video left in Roger Daltrey’s scream from “Won’t Get Fooled Again,” CSI: Miami’s theme song – it helps underscore Lt. Caine’s sheer ridiculousness.
And as for those show-opening witticisms, I liked them a hell of a lot better when Jerry Orbach as Detective Lenny Briscoe on Law & Order did it – he came off as a regular guy with a realistically cynical perspective on his job, not a sanctimonious douchebag. Caruso should check Orbach’s performances out on one of the innumerable L&O marathons running on TNT or USA – he might learn how to change up his line delivery.
If there is a more ludicrous television characterization than that of Lieutenant Horatio Caine as played by David Caruso on CSI: Miami, I haven’t seen it. For those of you who don’t watch the show, Caruso stars as the ringleader of a squad of crime scene investigators who work in and around Miami. Aside from the obvious gaffes – like, which hack writer thought the name “Horatio” would inspire anything besides eye-rolling and/or snickers? -- CSI: Miami deserves special praise for using so many formulaic ticks and gestures to flesh out Caine’s persona in lieu of any actual character development.
Caruso’s Caine is such a smug, obnoxious prick that I can’t help but wonder if Caruso is portraying him that way deliberately. He’s certainly nailed down a few gestures and mannerisms that just annoy the living shit out of me – so much so that I get a masochistic thrill out of watching the show just so I can see how many times in any given episode that, for example, Caruso puts his hands on his hips, turns his head so he’s not directly looking at any other actor and then delivers his portentous pronouncements as if he’s some brilliant, infallible, inscrutable cross between Sherlock Holmes, Mr. Spock and Socrates. If you’ve ever seen one of these instances of TV magic and not felt an immediate urge to bludgeon Caruso with a heavy object, than you must be a robot or something.
And as CSI: Miami prepares to launch yet another season next fall, there are literally hundreds of scenes of Caine putting on those fucking sunglasses while delivering a supposedly witty bon mot with the same exact vocal inflections. I’ve seen more varied and nuanced performances in old Clutch Cargo cartoons. Why, somebody should make a clip that strings a bunch of ‘em together, so you can see what I’m talking about.
Oh wait, somebody did:
I like the way the person who edited this video left in Roger Daltrey’s scream from “Won’t Get Fooled Again,” CSI: Miami’s theme song – it helps underscore Lt. Caine’s sheer ridiculousness.
And as for those show-opening witticisms, I liked them a hell of a lot better when Jerry Orbach as Detective Lenny Briscoe on Law & Order did it – he came off as a regular guy with a realistically cynical perspective on his job, not a sanctimonious douchebag. Caruso should check Orbach’s performances out on one of the innumerable L&O marathons running on TNT or USA – he might learn how to change up his line delivery.
29 September 2006
The "Race War" is Over
The ethnic experiment is quickly over on Survivor as race-based tribes are eliminatedJesus H. Christ. If any of these entertainment "journalists" had ever bothered to watch more than a token (no pun) episode of Survivor, they would have known that four tribes of five members will be merged into two tribes of eight three episodes into the season. It's basic math -- the contest couldn't sustain itself otherwise (or, more accurately, one or more teams would be so comically overmatched that it would be unfair).
By DAVID BAUDER / AP Television Writer
NEW YORK (AP) -- All the hubbub about the Survivor ethnic experiment turned out to be pretty worthless. Why? Because after only two episodes, producers merged the black, white, Asian and Latino tribes into two mixed-race gangs on the CBS reality show Thursday night. No explanation was given for the quick abandonment of segregation; it seemed to pass by so quickly as to mean nothing.
So the show didn't "abandon" the tribes-divided-by-ethnicity concept due to negative publicity, as rocket scientist/brain surgeon David Bauder seems to be implying; they "abandoned" it because they were always going to abandon it.
Frankly, I never understood all the hubbub the concept generated, other than the predictable hand-wringing from uptight namby-pamby East Coast media douche bags. It's not as if the contestants were kidnapped at gunpoint and forced to participate. Also, one of teh main criticisms of Survivor -- and reality shows in general -- is that the players all tend to be lily white. Well, now they've got a show where Caucasians aren't the majority, and all they do is bitch.
14 September 2006
Fizzling Out
Rock Star: Supernova wrapped up last night. Lukas the humunculus won. Unsurprising, seeing how Tommy Lee and especially Dave Navarro practically fellated this singing haircut every episode.
Lukas's ascention is also unsurprising, seeing how Gilby Clarke criticized Dilana’s lyric-writing skills as “literal and unimaginative” while praising Lukas. Here’s the chorus from Lukas’s cretinous original tune, “Head Spin” -- “I don’t know why you make my head spin/Why, why?/No one’s perfect.” Yeah, Gilby, Lukas is a regular Bob Dylan.
If you can’t tell, I’m disappointed by the outcome. Of the final four contestants -- Lukas, Dilana, Magni and Toby – the only one I actively loathed was Lukas. I realize that musical tastes are completely subjective, and what sounds good to one pair of ears sounds bad to another pair, but Lukas is a special kind of no-talent, a wee little poseur whose “originality” came entirely from the sale rack at Hot Topic.
And his singing? Nigger, please. As Jason Newsted regularly pointed out during the season’s run, Lukas’s vocals were always strangulated and forced, and not in a good way. Lukas can pull off a passable Thom Yorke imitation – like when he sang “Creep” 80 times on the show -- but when left to his own devices, he bellows like a walrus, thinking he’s conveying emotion when he's merely conveying increased volume. Plus, he suffers from Alanis Morrissette Syndrome, wherein a singer adds extra vowels to words, puts emphasis on wrong syllables and otherwise tries to be “quirky” and “original” but just comes off as mannered and trite.
My theory is that Tommy Lee figured he’d get more pussy on the road if he had a guy that was uglier than him singing for the band. Welcome aboard, Lukas.
Of course, what did Lukas really win? The original material Supernova trotted out during the show’s run was uniformly bland and forgettable (in that regard, Lukas is a perfect fit), so if he’s expecting fat royalty checks from Supernova’s multiplatinum album sales, he’s going to be very disappointed when the record drops. And also, it’s highly unlikely that Lee is going to give up his day job in Motley Crue for Supernova. Ditto for Jason Newsted with Voivod. Ditto Gilby with… whatever the hell it is he was doing before this show came on the air. Which means that Lukas's future doesn’t lie with Supernova.
Best of all, Lukas will forever be known as somebody who won a job on a reality show, which means any claims he ever might have had for artistic cred are over, and legitimate musicians will avoid him like the plague once this Supernova business is finished.
Except they won’t be called Supernova:
Court rules that television’s ‘Rock Star’ band can’t use the name Supernova
By SANDY COHEN / AP Entertainment Writer
LOS ANGELES (AP) -- The band from the reality TV show “Rock Star: Supernova” cannot call itself Supernova when it takes its act on the road, a judge has ruled. A Southern California rock band that has called itself Supernova since 1991 and recorded three albums under the name sued CBS, the show’s participants and Mark Burnett Productions in June claiming unfair competition and trademark infringement.
06 July 2006
Heavy Metal Bake Sale
Against my better judgment, I started watching Rock Star: Supernova. I really enjoyed VH1's Supergroup and I figured Rock Star would be a similar venture. It is, but it is also highly similar to American Idol -- both shows are glorified karaoke contests. Not that there's anything wrong with karaoke; I've done it a few times myself and it's fun, especially when you get to follow somebody who's memorably bad and then everybody thinks you're Robert Plant, provided you don't screw your selection up too horribly.
But anyhoo, on Rock Star, the goal is to win the singer slot in a nascent supergroup which consists of Gilby Clarke, Jason Newsted and Tommy Lee. The three stooges here have a hard rock/metal background, which means that the contestants should probably try and sing as much hard rock and metal as they can, and sing it well. Furthermore, image is a consideration, so the contestants need to look halfway comfortable on stage and perhaps most crucially, they need to look as if they actually belong on stage with Guns 'n' Motleytallica, er, I mean, "SUPERNOVA."
So naturally, in each and every contestant's introductory segment, they all glared and glowered at the camera, or else they stared soulfully into the middle distance, or they strode purposefully down dingy alleyways. Most of 'em did all three. You know, to exude street cred. They also all mentioned how rock they were. If you made a drinking game and took a swig of an alcoholic beverage each time one of the hopefuls said the word "rock" or any of its little friends (i.e., "rocked," "rockin'," "rocker"), you would die of alcohol poisoning before the second commercial break.
Fact: If you have to constantly tell people how rock 'n' roll you, or your outlook, or your attitude, or your way of life is? You ain't a rock star. You're a douche bag.
So the format goes something like this: Each singer picks a song, performs it with the house band (named "House Band") and then Supernova, plus producer Butch Walker (nice guy, but most of the stuff he works on is pop fluff) and host Dave Navarro (and seriously: these other guys are all sell-outs to some degree, but they have nothing on Uberwhore Navarro) offer criticism.
Keep in mind, this is supposedly a hard rock band. So does anybody bust out some Black Sabbath? Does anybody play a Motorhead track? AC/DC? Soundgarden? Pantera? Does anybody attempt a note-perfect Judas Priest cover, which would easily prove that you have vocal chops and a passing familiarity with metal? Negatory, good buddy.
The first singer, a lady named Storm Large (!!), did a decent version of "Pinball Wizard" while eye-fucking the camera every time it was pointed at her, which leads me to think she spends more time perfecting her come-hither looks than her vocal scales, but, well, heh heh, she is kind of hot, so I'll let her slide.
After that, a little sissy bitch named Ryan Star (not to be confused with the Ryan Starr who was on American Idol and then The Surreal Life) sang "Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls, which kind of set the tone for the male contestants. Badass Ryan also spends a lot of time with a scowl on his face, as if he's just so ready to beat the living shit out of somebody, anybody -- but remember: he sang a fucking Goo Goo Dolls song. Dude, if you perform anything by them, you might as well tattoo the word "pussy" on your forehead.
Speaking of foreheads, there's an ugly little homunculus named Lukas something-or-other who bellowed a gruesomely affected Billy Idol song ("Rebel Yell?" I forget). Naturally, Navarro loved it.
Some unfortunate no-talent -- who would later, without the slightest hint of irony, refer to himself as one of the best singers in the world -- did a radically reworked version of noted hard rock staple "Roxanne" by the Police and thoroughly fucked it up. To his credit, Gilby told him it sucked.
A Pueto Rican goth chick sang that Evanescence song that everybody's sick of and made a hash of it, but since she too is kinda hot, Supernova graciously overlooked her vocal shortcomings. Navarro tried to bond with her by habla-ing some espanol and he sounded like the whitest Latino ever, which, of course, he is. Shut it, Dave.
One semi bright spot was Danila (sp?), a woman from Texas via South Africa who did a highly mannered version of "Lithium." She sounds just like Tina Turner, of all people, and when she rocks out -- take a swig! -- rather than try to bump and grind like the other chicks, she runs around and stomps and twitches. This will probably become very tiring after a few episodes, but beggars can't be choosers.
After the show as over, America voted and three douche bags were put in the hot seat. Each picked another song and then the Supernova brain trust voted on who would get the axe. The guy they booted was some geek from Chicago whose redemption song was, ahem, "Planet Earth" by Duran Duran. I don't think he understood the nuances of the show.
I'll keep watching this train wreck for now, if only to smirk at what are certain to be many more ridiculous song choices, as well as to enjoy the Hot Topic-flavored pulchritude of some of the female contestants. And I think at least once, I will play that drinking game I just invented and see what happens.
But anyhoo, on Rock Star, the goal is to win the singer slot in a nascent supergroup which consists of Gilby Clarke, Jason Newsted and Tommy Lee. The three stooges here have a hard rock/metal background, which means that the contestants should probably try and sing as much hard rock and metal as they can, and sing it well. Furthermore, image is a consideration, so the contestants need to look halfway comfortable on stage and perhaps most crucially, they need to look as if they actually belong on stage with Guns 'n' Motleytallica, er, I mean, "SUPERNOVA."
So naturally, in each and every contestant's introductory segment, they all glared and glowered at the camera, or else they stared soulfully into the middle distance, or they strode purposefully down dingy alleyways. Most of 'em did all three. You know, to exude street cred. They also all mentioned how rock they were. If you made a drinking game and took a swig of an alcoholic beverage each time one of the hopefuls said the word "rock" or any of its little friends (i.e., "rocked," "rockin'," "rocker"), you would die of alcohol poisoning before the second commercial break.
Fact: If you have to constantly tell people how rock 'n' roll you, or your outlook, or your attitude, or your way of life is? You ain't a rock star. You're a douche bag.
So the format goes something like this: Each singer picks a song, performs it with the house band (named "House Band") and then Supernova, plus producer Butch Walker (nice guy, but most of the stuff he works on is pop fluff) and host Dave Navarro (and seriously: these other guys are all sell-outs to some degree, but they have nothing on Uberwhore Navarro) offer criticism.
Keep in mind, this is supposedly a hard rock band. So does anybody bust out some Black Sabbath? Does anybody play a Motorhead track? AC/DC? Soundgarden? Pantera? Does anybody attempt a note-perfect Judas Priest cover, which would easily prove that you have vocal chops and a passing familiarity with metal? Negatory, good buddy.
The first singer, a lady named Storm Large (!!), did a decent version of "Pinball Wizard" while eye-fucking the camera every time it was pointed at her, which leads me to think she spends more time perfecting her come-hither looks than her vocal scales, but, well, heh heh, she is kind of hot, so I'll let her slide.
After that, a little sissy bitch named Ryan Star (not to be confused with the Ryan Starr who was on American Idol and then The Surreal Life) sang "Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls, which kind of set the tone for the male contestants. Badass Ryan also spends a lot of time with a scowl on his face, as if he's just so ready to beat the living shit out of somebody, anybody -- but remember: he sang a fucking Goo Goo Dolls song. Dude, if you perform anything by them, you might as well tattoo the word "pussy" on your forehead.
Speaking of foreheads, there's an ugly little homunculus named Lukas something-or-other who bellowed a gruesomely affected Billy Idol song ("Rebel Yell?" I forget). Naturally, Navarro loved it.
Some unfortunate no-talent -- who would later, without the slightest hint of irony, refer to himself as one of the best singers in the world -- did a radically reworked version of noted hard rock staple "Roxanne" by the Police and thoroughly fucked it up. To his credit, Gilby told him it sucked.
A Pueto Rican goth chick sang that Evanescence song that everybody's sick of and made a hash of it, but since she too is kinda hot, Supernova graciously overlooked her vocal shortcomings. Navarro tried to bond with her by habla-ing some espanol and he sounded like the whitest Latino ever, which, of course, he is. Shut it, Dave.
One semi bright spot was Danila (sp?), a woman from Texas via South Africa who did a highly mannered version of "Lithium." She sounds just like Tina Turner, of all people, and when she rocks out -- take a swig! -- rather than try to bump and grind like the other chicks, she runs around and stomps and twitches. This will probably become very tiring after a few episodes, but beggars can't be choosers.
After the show as over, America voted and three douche bags were put in the hot seat. Each picked another song and then the Supernova brain trust voted on who would get the axe. The guy they booted was some geek from Chicago whose redemption song was, ahem, "Planet Earth" by Duran Duran. I don't think he understood the nuances of the show.
I'll keep watching this train wreck for now, if only to smirk at what are certain to be many more ridiculous song choices, as well as to enjoy the Hot Topic-flavored pulchritude of some of the female contestants. And I think at least once, I will play that drinking game I just invented and see what happens.
04 June 2006
I Waited Two Years for This?
I still enjoy The Sopranos, but this season was a little meh for my tastes. I kept waiting for something to happen, and with a few notable exceptions, nothing much did.
The AP's Frazier Moore summed it up thusly:
The AP's Frazier Moore summed it up thusly:
Having started strong last March with the near-fatal shooting of mob boss Tony Soprano by his senile Uncle Junior, the sixth season of this HBO drama seemed to wilt, week to week, in synch with Tony’s recovery.
The inevitable murder of Soprano captain Vito Spatafore -- offed by fellow mobsters for being gay -- had taken place in the next-to-last episode. But proving somewhat anticlimactic, it only whetted the audience’s appetite for a decisive dramatic finish to the 12-episode season.
That didn’t happen.
15 May 2006
Goddamn Electric
For whatever reason, VH1 has ressurected their Behind the Music franchise, and it's about fucking time. I watched the all-new Ratt and Pantera episodes. The episodes showcased two bands that ostensibly play the same genre of music but were in actuality at opposite poles of the metal spectrum.
The one on Ratt was amusing in a pathetic sort of way, because Ratt has always been a pathetic sort of band: no real substance, just a nonstop babes ‘n’ booze party train (although I do own a copy of their greatest hits CD – I’m not made of stone). They were no worse than any of their contemporaries, but they weren’t any better, either. I thought it was horribly disingenuous to present the interview segments with former guitarist Robbin Crosby without indicating that he, like, died in 2002 – a factual tidbit they saved until the very end of the episode. Also, singer Stephen Pearcy looks like hell.
The one on Pantera had more meat, so to speak, and it rightly opened with the murder of guitarist Dimebag Darrell Abbott. The show presented Phil Anselmo as the root cause of Pantera’s eventual dissolution, which I don’t think is entirely accurate, but it’s a moot point now. Anselmo is an interesting character. He says he’s clean and sober these days but he looked awfully doped up during his interview segments. I wouldn’t want to ride in an elevator with him, but he is easily one of the most intense performers in metal; a truly scary dude. And Down, his offshoot collaboration with Pepper Keenan of COC (one of many Anselmo side projects), is awesome.
I always had mixed feelings about Pantera. I was working at a record store shortly after they broke big. Practically all of the people who bought Vulgar Display of Power were what you’d expect: ignorant, redneck assholes who thought Black Flag were a bunch of fags, yet couldn’t see the similarities between the two bands. On the rare occasions when I would play Pantera through the store’s PA – mainly to irritate customers or fellow employees – I discovered that despite their white trash audience, I didn’t hate Pantera's music, which was brutally simple and direct. It’s not all that different from a lot of hardcore, only it’s played at a slower tempo.
Anyway, a couple of years ago, I got an advance of The Best of Pantera: Far Beyond the Great Southern Cowboys' Vulgar Hits disc and I favorably reviewed it in LEO. If I can dig it up and I’m not embarrassed by it I’ll post it here for completeness’s sake.
I hope VH1 airs more episodes of Behind the Music. I suggest doing shows on Cheap Trick and the Cars, for starters.
The one on Ratt was amusing in a pathetic sort of way, because Ratt has always been a pathetic sort of band: no real substance, just a nonstop babes ‘n’ booze party train (although I do own a copy of their greatest hits CD – I’m not made of stone). They were no worse than any of their contemporaries, but they weren’t any better, either. I thought it was horribly disingenuous to present the interview segments with former guitarist Robbin Crosby without indicating that he, like, died in 2002 – a factual tidbit they saved until the very end of the episode. Also, singer Stephen Pearcy looks like hell.
The one on Pantera had more meat, so to speak, and it rightly opened with the murder of guitarist Dimebag Darrell Abbott. The show presented Phil Anselmo as the root cause of Pantera’s eventual dissolution, which I don’t think is entirely accurate, but it’s a moot point now. Anselmo is an interesting character. He says he’s clean and sober these days but he looked awfully doped up during his interview segments. I wouldn’t want to ride in an elevator with him, but he is easily one of the most intense performers in metal; a truly scary dude. And Down, his offshoot collaboration with Pepper Keenan of COC (one of many Anselmo side projects), is awesome.
I always had mixed feelings about Pantera. I was working at a record store shortly after they broke big. Practically all of the people who bought Vulgar Display of Power were what you’d expect: ignorant, redneck assholes who thought Black Flag were a bunch of fags, yet couldn’t see the similarities between the two bands. On the rare occasions when I would play Pantera through the store’s PA – mainly to irritate customers or fellow employees – I discovered that despite their white trash audience, I didn’t hate Pantera's music, which was brutally simple and direct. It’s not all that different from a lot of hardcore, only it’s played at a slower tempo.
Anyway, a couple of years ago, I got an advance of The Best of Pantera: Far Beyond the Great Southern Cowboys' Vulgar Hits disc and I favorably reviewed it in LEO. If I can dig it up and I’m not embarrassed by it I’ll post it here for completeness’s sake.
I hope VH1 airs more episodes of Behind the Music. I suggest doing shows on Cheap Trick and the Cars, for starters.
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