2008-02 Vital Source Mag – February 2008
Bob Mould
Singer/songwriter/punk icon/former pro-wrestling scripter Bob Mould has (obviously) worn many hats during his career. With his latest solo offering, District Line, the ex-Hüsker Dü and Sugar guitarist continues hisbalancing act between modern rock balladeer and DIY wunderkind. Mould plays every instrument on District Line besides the cello, provided by Amy Domingues, and the signature drumming of Fugazi’s Brendan Canty. Canty’s distinctive dub-enhanced syncopation shines on the leadoff track “Stupid Now;” for most of the album, though, he’s content to simply lay a solid back beat. His playing echoes Mould’s songwriting; flashes of the work that made them both legends occasionally shine through what is essentially an album of sometimes competent, often excellent, generally straightforward alternative rock. Mould’s solo work is intensely personal and relationship-based. “Again and Again” recalls his 90’s alterna-pop incarnation, Sugar, with symphonic guitar driving a melancholy suicide note of dysfunctional love – “I took the bullets from the carport/tossed them in my backpack…I left the title to the house inside the piano bench/And my lawyer’s got the will.” This track, and the up-tempo (and equally Sugary) “Very Temporary,” shows the material at its strongest and catchiest. A strange fascination with vocoder (which, let’s face it, Cher ruined for everyone) threatens to undermine “Very Temporary” and otherwise fascinating tracks like the alterna-rock/disco mash-up “Shelter Me.” It’s frankly distracting to hear the voice behind incendiary punk classics like “Something I Learned Today” dabbling in NYC Eighth Avenue club music. Still, Mould’s determination to straddle the line between alternative and dance pays off more often than it stumbles on District Line. Now if only Bob would find the time to start scripting wrestling matches again. Lord knows the WWE could use him right now.
Feb 1st, 2008 by DJ Hostettler
Checkers or Chess?
Maybe no one will win this election By Donald Kaul American elections are nothing if not amusing; solemn rituals laced with equal measures of irony and hypocrisy, with a touch of absurdity thrown in for taste. The victory speeches alone are worth the price of admission. Take for example the statement of Mitt Romney after he’d been declared winner of the Michigan caucuses: “Tonight is a victory of optimism over Washington-style pessimism,” he said. Implicit in that statement is the belief, widely held, unfortunately, that optimism is a good thing in and of itself, and that to be pessimistic is somehow un-American. Balderdash. Hogwash. Fiddle-faddle. There, having exhausted my supply of 19th Century rebukes, let me tell you why the idea is dangerous nonsense. A little optimism is fine, necessary, even. It helps one get up in the morning and face the day. When it reaches the point of self-delusion, however, it masks the real problems one faces and makes a solution impossible. Romney’s victory took place at the precise moment that the national economy seems poised to plunge into a full-blown recession and in a state that has been living that recession for the better part of a decade. Michigan’s unemployment rate, at about 8 percent, is the highest in the country; its chief economic engine, the auto industry, is reeling from foreign competition and shows little sign of recovering any time soon. Plants, one after another, keep closing. It doesn’t need optimism; it needs rescue. Romney says he can bring Michigan’s lost jobs home. By cutting taxes, of course. That’s the Republican answer to Hadacol. It cures all ills. Let me say this about that: Cutting taxes does not necessarily create jobs. Rich people and corporations do not invest in plants and equipment simply because they have the money to do so. There has to be some expectation of profit. And if there’s nobody out there with money to buy anything, that expectation does not exist. I will never know how Democrats keep losing elections to Republicans. The GOP has controlled Congress for most of the past dozen years and the presidency for the past seven. Having inherited a budget surplus, a boisterous economy and a healthy dollar, they’ve managed to squander those advantages and run the economy into a ditch. And now we’re seriously considering keeping a Republican in the White House? That’s like hiring Michael Vick as your dog walker. On second thought, I think I know how Democrats keep losing elections. Their ability to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory is all but supernatural. Take, for example, the decision of the national party to ignore the Michigan caucuses. Michigan, seeking to achieve some relevance in the presidential selection process, had moved its caucuses up right behind Iowa and New Hampshire. This so offended the leaders of the Democratic party that they punished the state by stripping it of its delegates at the national convention. The major presidential candidates went along with the gag (most […]
Feb 1st, 2008 by Vital Archives
VITAL turns six with Puzzles + Games
By VITAL friends and family Download PDFs of all of our puzzles & games! Just print and play! Coloring page by Natalia Rubanov: VITAL’s birthday girl! Coloring page by Dwellephant Coloring page by Tim Edgar Hidden picture puzzle by Coth Paper doll by Tea Krulos Coloring page by Kristopher Pollard Coloring page by Jeff Noise Find the differences puzzle by J. Jason Groschopf Giant word search Giant crossword Kris kross puzzle, anagram jumble and mega-sudoku
Feb 1st, 2008 by Vital Archives
Guitar Hero
Growing up in a small, semi-rural town where broomball and shining deer were considered high entertainment (if you’re unfamiliar with these provincial pastimes, please, don’t ask), I was keenly aware of a strange, terrifying sub-set of my peers. No, not the girls who harbored abnormal crushes on Channel 12’s Jerry Taft, or even the kids who looked like circus animals (my graduating class alone had three pandas), but something much more puzzling, much more insidious: 13-year-olds with facial hair. For the most part, these freaks of nature were farm kids who drank at least four cartons of milk during lunch, had nicknames like “Goatsy” or “Yummers” and were almost always excellent bowlers. So enamored were these mutants with their precious little dirt-staches that they never once shaved them, instead opting to savor each scraggly whisker for years on end as if it were manna from heaven. Of course, much like a farmer’s field, if you fail to cultivate the land (or, in this case, your upper lip), you deprive your crops the chance to flourish and grow, leaving you with nothing but dirt. And that’s exactly what happened here: all throughout high school, these redneck goons sported the same ill-formed, uncultivated facial hair. Occasionally running into them now during drunken jaunts back to my hometown, I always take a certain amount of pleasure in seeing these grown men still rocking straight-up peach fuzz. I bring up this disturbing phenomenon because I harbor something of an ill-formed mustache myself: my sub-standard guitar playing (in the realm of facial hair, I still remain as smooth and ridiculous as a baby bird). Technically, I’ve been playing guitar for nearly half my life; this statement is entirely misleading, however, when you consider that in my case, “playing” roughly translates to “learning some basic chords when you’re 16 and strumming them to death for the next decade-and-a-half.” Perhaps it was my early frustration with never figuring out that goddamn opening riff to “Come As You Are” (something most eight-year-olds could probably lick in ten minutes) but after a while, I simply gave up. This piss-poor attitude was recently thrown into sharp relief when local tunesmiths The Danger asked me to fill in for their recently departed lead guitarist. It was understood this emergency substitution would be for a single show at the Cactus Club (opening for the criminally underappreciated Dark Horse Project), and that we would only have a few weeks to rehearse. It was also understood that I would be expected to play some of the leads – nothing complicated, I was assured – but leads nonetheless. Would I do it? After carefully considering my utter lack of time, energy or talent, I immediately said yes.(A side note: if The Danger happens to be playing near a venue near you, do yourself a favor and check them out; it’s nice to hear a band that doesn’t rely on chamber-pop chanting or lyrics about robots and zombies to get their point across.) Rehearsals went well, […]
Feb 1st, 2008 by Matt Wild
