I Really Love Neko's Album Cover

I don't know what it is about Neko Case, but I think she is a total badass. Just look at the album cover. And, of course, her voice alone exudes badassness.

You can pretty much guarantee pure greatness from her.

Neko Case - People Got A Lotta Nerve

Just for Old Time's Sake

Leslie Feist still rules.

When I first bought Let It Die back in college, I made sure all of Bowling Green, Ky., knew who the hell she was. She obviously doesn't need my help anymore. But I'm still introducing that album to a different crowd, and they like her. You just cannot argue with her voice. It's too pure.

I'd really like for she and Chrisete Michele to do a duet. Just for me. Please, ladies, please.

For the record—I'm just not that into Jazmine Sullivan. Don't get me wrong—I'm glad a young sista's making her rounds, but eh.

So this is how I've been feeling in the past six weeks:

Erykah Badu - Me

Just listen to it and you'll understand why I haven't been blogging as often as I used to in the past six weeks. I've been on a beautiful journey of self-discovery, and I'm loving it.

Love,
Amb

Video Vault: "Da Art of Storytellin" by Outkast ft. Slick Rick

Uhhhh, how can you go wrong with this video? Man. It's so underrated, too. People didn't even give a damn about this video when it came out circa 1999. They were too busy trying to "Tear Da Roof Off" with Busta-Bus (and understandably so--that album was the shit).

Also: There Will Be Blood is the best thing in town.

Ever since I've graduated from college, it's been hard for me to not discuss films as if I'm writing a two-page film journal for my film studies course, despite the fact that those were a pain in the ass for me. Nonetheless, I can say I'm not a huge fan of writing long movie critiques because I personally dislike reading film reviews in its entirety. I'm all about the nugget reviews: just gimme two to three paragraphs.

But I have to say, it was already hard for me to not break that rule in my previous entry about The Diving Bell and Butterfly, but it's gonna be even harder for me to talk about Paul Thomas Anderson's genius-storm that is There Will Be Blood. Not a single scene was drawn out; not a single dialogue was boring; not a single soul was half-assing through their lines. Every single thing about that film was perfect.

Know what movie I kept thinking about when I watched this? Citizen Kane. Yeah, yeah, you either loved it or hated it, but as much as I hate popular critic choices for Greatest Films of All-Time bullshit lists, while I may not agree with that rank, mainly because I don't do ultimate lists like that, I still understand why Citizen Kane tops the list.

Anyway, if you have noticed on the right column, I don't have many films listed as my faves of 2007. That's mainly because I'm super-duper-trooper picky when it comes to film, even more so than music. Eh, let's be honest--I'm an elitist cunt. There I said it. So it's obvious it takes a lot to "woo" me, if you will. Maybe because I'm a writer myself. Whatever the case may be, the result is obvious: There Will Be Blood has turned me into a blathering fool. I can't even write about the damn thing without all of these sidebars because it has opened so many eyes in my curious creative mind that it makes me want to personally congratulate every single actor in that movie, because they were a part of something great.

Nothing--NOTHING--has hit the theaters in recent years that has left me speechless. I couldn't even think about the movie afterwards, so I went into the next viewing of The Diving Bell only to clear my mind of how brilliant it was and to focus on another really amazing film. I don't think my thoughts were ready for me to speak about Blood in complete sentences.

I'd really like to reiterate my comparison of this film and Citizen Kane. I'm not a bogus statement kinda gal, (unless, of course, if it's in jest), but Blood definitely is just as important as Orson Welles' 1941 classic because it not only focuses on what's going on in the film, but it also provokes the viewers to think about our American culture through the demonic characterizations of corporate greedy, manipulative and monopolizing powerful men.

Daniel Day-Lewis, my my my. No wonder why you don't take many roles, brother. You are a super method actor. Robert De Niro, my ass. Even his ass has taken some shitty roles. But you are an elite. I am convinced in everything you do. You are a true actor, a person who believes in actually becoming the person in your role, instead of taking the lazy way out and being "yourself."

Paul Dano, that goes for you, kiddo. I remember seeing you in Little Miss Sunshine as the pretentious Nietzsche-loving, "I wanna be mute because of him," kid and was kind of annoyed by your character, which obviously meant that you did a good job. But "good" would be an understatement in your performance in this'n, pal. Watching you perform alongside Day-Lewis made me forget all about Sunshine. Actually, the tension between Dano and Day-Lewis alone makes this film worthwhile. I wouldn't be surprised if Day-Lewis didn't force Dano to sleep with his wife in order to portray a very real hatred towards his character, it was that believable.

And so, I shall speak no more and go into My Oscar votes: Best Actor in a Leading Role: Daniel Day-Lewis (winner); Best Actor in a Supporting Role: Paul Dano (winner); Best Cinematography (nominee, only because I'm a bigger fan of French cinematography, which is why I chose Diving Bell); Best Adapted Screenplay: PTA (winner); Best Achievement in Direction: PTA (winner); Best Picture (winner)

Mike Long makes Sufjan Stevens look like a punk-bitch.

Photo courtesy via Myspace page

First off, who's Mike Long, right? Right. Understandable question. I'd like to answer that in the typical Amber style of answering such complicated questions: with a story.

Remember when Sufjan Stevens made that ridiculous declaration of musical independence in 2005 by saying he's gonna make his next 50 albums about states, including his Michigan and Illinois project? And remember how everyone melted at his every word since then, not even caring about the fact that Illinois was mildly mediocre in comparison to his previous albums, yet it was his most famous and gained him mainstream recognition?

Yeah. That was so ambitious of him, until, of course, he was like, "Oh, guess what, kids? That was all a lie. Just needed some press. It gets kinda awkward performing onstage when there's nothing but Christian hipsters in the audience wearing 'No bing-bing until bling-bling!' tees and thinking I speak to them because I mention God in my songs, so I figured I could broaden my listeners to hipsters who like gossip." And, by George, he did a fantastic job. I'm glad he got the fame--I like the kid--but I still like reminding people that, once again, Illinois was mediocre-ish. Actually, I'll give him more credit than that. I really loved the album when he performed only the best songs live, and he's a good show.

In short, nobody will ever believe such bogus claims again. Unless, of course, you actually follow through with them and blow people's brains out with your brilliance.

Like the homeboy pictured above. I'd like to point out the fact that he is doing something that lets everyone know you're about the business: the Andy Warhol photo layout. Everyone does it when they've made a huge impact on someone's life. It's just standard artistic rule, man. You just gotta do it, no questions asked. And Mr. Long did touch someone's life: mine.

See, I've been in the pits lately. Everything's been boring me mainly because of the excessive, unhealthy coverage of an obvious mentally unstable Britney Spears, and it's like, "Well, shit, do I talk about how much I'm not interested because the bottom line is she needs help?" Nah. Snore-zone. Or I could talk about Amy Winehouse going blonde. Beh. Or I could post daily videos and mp3's, even though I've been too scatterbrained to even pinpoint which new or old discovery I'd want to bring to light. Just too damn many for me to even begin. So I decided to rest.

So my homeboy at The Look-See sent me a video of Detroit show The Scene shot in 1982 of people dancing to A Number of Names' "Sharevari." I then saw a related video, and that's where it all began.

Apparently this 26-year-old Canadian kid made a pact on May 4, 2007 (just by conjecture because he said he wants to finish by May 4 of this year) to the lucky underground YouTube/Internet world by declaring that he would spend the next 365 (actually, you're cheating us, buddy, because it's a leap year) days dancing to a difference song, on camera, every single day. And, believe it or not, he's done 80 percent that shit. He's done over 250 videos and lemme tell ya, I'm quite pleased. He's got some great selections, too, ranging from the rambunctious Van Morrisson during his Them days, Love, Serge Gainsbourg (as well as his daughter, Charlotte), to underground hip-hoppers J Dilla, Madvillain and Edan, to underground dance rockers The Knife to mainstream diva Kelis. The list goes on, actually. Even if he doesn't make it to 365(6), doing over some 250-odd videos on dancing is incredible. Don't stop believin', brother. I hate that I quoted Journey to encourage you.

Some favorites (don't worry, the song titles will pop up as soon as you hit Play):

















He's dancing with his grandma in this'n. Sweet.



And the video that got me hooked:


In short, I like Mike. The greatest thing about this project is the fact that he does the same dance with slight variations of it to different tunes. That, my friends, is true dancing. If we ever cross paths in life, he'd definitely be my dance partner. Dancing is a fierce way of self-expression that too many people are too shallow to appreciate these days. It makes me weep inside. I need to throw a dance party now, as well as remove his balls from my mouth because they sure as hell have been kept warm in it.

If you want to see more of this cat, you can go here, here and that Myspace link under his photo.