The Inept Owl has been lucky enough to have a few artists in multiple fields come back again and again with new albums, ideas, and visions. It has the feel of a family reunion, as we see each other grow up and grow out each time we get together for a brief moment in the year. Such is the case with The Northstar Session as I review their latest album, “Late Bloomer”.
Fearful attempts by the state of California to gag freedom of speech were curtailed by the U.S. Supreme Court yesterday, as justices voted 7-2 to allow the sale of violent, “M” rated video games to anyone in California who could reach the counter to pay, with no legal consequence to the retailer. The decicion was explained as a standard for all media that does not have naked men and women.
In his explanation of voting against the ban, Justice Scalia wrote, “Grimm’s Fairy Tales, for example, are grim indeed …Cinderella’s evil stepsisters have their eyes pecked out by doves. And Hansel and Gretel (children!) kill their captor by baking them in an oven.” The idea that a child could buy such a book on their own,(because all children even ask for books for holidays and birthdays), and not a violent video game was what led Justic Scalia to his decision.
Rap as an art form has continually evolved. From its tribal, beat-based story-telling syncopation around a fire to its modern, beat-based story-telling syncopation in 50,000 capacity sports arenas, rap has been in constant flux in how the form has been portrayed, enacted, and interpreted. The same can be said for modern biological evolution. So it is no surprise that Canadian rapper Baba Brinkman would take both of these linear ideas of evolution, and evolve them from performance, feedback, and revision, into a new album, The Rap Guide to Evolution: Revised, and then bring it to New York City as a public performance.
Vancouver BC, CANADA: Last week the imaginable happened: Canadians were so riled up about a Stanley Cup Finals series loss that they took to the streets to show Oakland, Los Angeles, and Chicago how a riot is supposed to be. This past week the remorse blossomed for all the world to see, as city dwellers took to the streets once again, spray-painting apologies on windows, up-ending police cars and covering them with post-it notes, and igniting gasoline messages of “SORRY” and “DON’T JUDGE ALL OF US” in the streets.
What we will be comparing characters to? Simple: beer. Beer has such a wide range of classes and tastes to play against the range of classes and tastes of the players in Game of Thrones, and beer is easier to to make safe for work than, say, sexual positions, and everyone is drinking and sword-fighting. I don’t know anything about medieval swordplay, so I’ll stick with beer.
United States: First, it was the Tanorexics—women in their teens, 20s and 30s with such a fondness for tan skin that they risk their lives just to resemble old, leathery shoes. But now, as skin cancer rates are on the rise and cosmetic companies everywhere are advertising “anti-aging” products, another extremist group has joined in. Meet the Sunphobics.
You think you know the blues? Hold up there, Hipster Hank. Put down your PBR and listen for a minute. This isn’t your super-rare bootleg 45 of Etta James playing live in some smoky dive in New Orleans. This isn’t John Lee Hooker, growling his way through another “woman done me wrong” song. And this definitely isn’t some long-haired white boy who just shreds his way through a 12-bar blues chord progression. Meet Christian St. Croix… a self-described “un-closeted new-roots blues singer into tattoos, street art and slasher flicks.”