Film Review: Super 8

Super 8 directed by J.J. Abrams (Amblin Entertainment, Bad Robot, and Paramount Pictures, PG-13. 112 minutes)

Starring Joel Courtney, Kyle Chandler, Elle Fanning, and Riley Griffiths.

Mystery

Shrouded in mystery, the trailer for Super 8 reveals very little plot. From it, we get a clear picture that J.J. Abrams is interested in telling a story through concealment. Much like Ernest Hemingway’s writing style, this form of narration builds suspense as the human mind fills in the blank spaces.

Super 8 is a science fiction film that depicts a small town’s encounter with a dangerous unknown being. The protagonists of the film are a group of children who are filming a Super 8 zombie movie. While filming a scene at the local train station, they encounter a treacherous and mysterious train derailment.

Having survived the incident and slipped away before the Air Force arrived, the youth start to experience strange happenings around town as dogs run away, people disappear, and appliances malfunction. Coupled with an overbearing Air Force presence, it is clear something is afoot.

But, that is all I shall say in summary. J.J. Abrams intended for this movie to be mysterious and who am I to rain on his parade.

The Importance of Concealment

So let’s discuss the importance of concealment in movies. For me, the most impressive portion of Abrams’ film is the way in which he portrays the narrative without explicitly revealing it.

As an example, Super 8’s opening scene illustrates a factory that carries a sign advertising the number of days since its last accident. As the shot focuses on this sign with its numerals suggesting over 2 years of safe working conditions, an employee removes the digits and replaces them with the number 1.

While an over-the-top,Michael-Bay-like movie would depict the character getting crushed by a steel beam, Abrams communicates the same idea with the removal of a number. As Super 8 unfolds, Abrams’ tendency to unveil the plot in small portions develops suspense and makes for a better movie.

Pretty Good

Although the suspense created a fun viewing experience, Super 8 lacked strong dialogue and, at certain points, relied on special effects. As such, the movie is entertaining but not emotionally moving. Twenty years from now, I doubt we’ll look back at Super 8 and label it a classic in the mold of E.T. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the movie enough to recommend it.

Book Review: Slaughterhouse-Five

Slaughterhouse-Five, or the Children’s Crusade: A Duty-Dance with Death by Kurt Vonnegut (New York: Dell Publishing, 1969. 216 pp)

Kurt Vonnegut was a fourth-generation German-American who lived in easy circumstances on Cape Cod (while smoking too much), who, as an American infantry scout hors de combat, as a prisoner of war, witnessed the fire-bombing of Dresden, Germany, “the Florence of the Elbe,” a long time ago, and survived to tell the tale. Slaughterhouse-Five is a novel somewhat in the telegraphic schizophrenic manner of tales of the planet Tralfamadore, where the flying saucers come from. Peace.

The Muzzle of a Gun

Despite the glorification of war on the silver screen, the principle of war is not only brutish and disheartening but also perhaps the most disgusting trait of humanity. Although other animals fight and kill each other on occasion, the speed, efficiency, and scope by which humans kill each other is unparalleled.

For some, war is a necessary evil. To them, when dialogue fails to rehabilitate a group, nothing forces correct behavior like the muzzle of a gun.

For others, no amount of conflict necessitates the taking of another’s life.

Even a war universally justified like World War II has its detractors. Of course, the atrocities of Hitler required a response and no pacifist condones Hitler’s actions. But some people don’t bleed red, white, and blue.

Dresden

In the bombing of Dresden, Allied forces fire-bombed an entire city indiscriminately. In addition to the many military personnel who perished in the burning city, 25,000 civilians died. Vonnegut, a prisoner of war in Dresden at the time, experienced the calamity first-hand and found its destruction futile in the grand scheme of things. In Palm Sunday, he wrote of his book, Slaughterhouse-Five,

“The Dresden atrocity, tremendously expensive and meticulously planned, was so meaningless, finally, that only one person on the entire planet got any benefit from it. I am that person. I wrote this book, which earned a lot of money for me and made my reputation, such as it is. One way or another, I got two or three dollars for every person killed. Some business I'm in” (302).

With Slaughterhouse-Five – perhaps his most famous work – Vonnegut retells the story of the Dresden fire-bombing through a nonlinear narrative, an exploration of fate vs. free will, and a darkly satirical voice.

Nonlinear Narrative

The novel follows the life of Billy Pilgrim, a Chaplain’s Assistant in the war and an optometrist in his later years, as he time travels between his experience on the front, his life post-war, and his time spent on Tralfamadore, the home world of the alien race who abducted him.

Time: An Exploration of Fate vs. Free Will

These aliens view time much differently from humans. While humanity understands time in one direction, the Tralfamadorians view all moments in time simultaneously.

Influenced by his abductors, Billy Pilgrim jumps between eras in his life inadvertently. His perception of circumstances is exceptionally fatalistic. When it comes to death, Pilgrim glibly exclaims, “So it goes.” He knows that death is only one moment among many simultaneously occurring circumstances.

Vonnegut’s dark view of human nature expands when he pens,

“’If I hadn’t spent so much time studying Earthlings,’ said the Tralfamadorian, ‘I wouldn’t have any idea what was meant by “free will.” I’ve visited thirty-one inhabited planets in the universe, and I have studied reports on one hundred more. Only on Earth is there any talk of free will’” (86).

A Satirical Voice, Darkly

On top of these philosophical notions, Vonnegut writes beautifully. His inventive prose is entertaining, evocative, and creative. Discussing a moment when Billy perceives time in reverse, Vonnegut writes,

“American planes, full of holes and wounded men and corpses took off backwards from an airfield in England. Over France, a few German fighter planes flew at them backwards, sucked bullets and shell fragments from some of the planes and crewman. They did the same for wrecked American bombers on the ground, and those planes flew up backwards to join the formation.
The formation flew backwards over a German city and that was in flames. The bombers opened their bomb bay doors, exerted a miraculous magnetism which shrunk the fires, gathered them into cylindrical steel containers, and lifted the containers into the bellies of the planes. The containers were stored neatly in racks.
The Germans below had miraculous devices of their own, which were long steel tubes. They used them to suck more fragments from the crewmen and planes. But there were still a few wounded Americans, though, and some of the bombers were in bad repair. Over France, though, German fighters came up again, made everything and everybody as good as new.
When the bombers got back to their base, the steel cylinders were taken from the racks and shipped back to the United States of America, where factories were operating night and day, dismantling the cylinders, separating the dangerous contents into minerals. Touchingly, it was mainly women who did this work. The minerals were then shipped to specialists in remote areas. It was their business to put them into the ground, to hide them cleverly, so they would never hurt anybody ever again.

The American fliers turned in their uniforms, became high school kids. And Hitler turned into a baby, Billy Pilgrim supposed” (75).

The Futility of War

Despite the prose jumping from decade to decade and from earth to a distant planet in the universe, Vonnegut ultimately centers the story on the fateful bombing of Dresden. Instead of glorifying war and creating charismatic heroes, Vonnegut considers these deeds futile. Concerning one of Billy Pilgrim’s fellow soldiers, Vonnegut asserts,

“There are almost no characters in this story, and almost no dramatic confrontations, because most of the people in it are so sick and so much the listless playthings of enormous forces. One of the main effects of war, after all, is that people are discouraged from being characters (164).

Whether or not a just war is possible, the actual performance on the frontlines of battle is a heartbreaking part of the human condition. Is it possible for humanity to stop war amongst its constituents? Are we capable of change? Will time even present a conclusion? Vonnegut believes that a dance with death is necessary for great art. He danced in the fires of Dresden and Slaughterhouse-Five was the result. Just as many find hope in an excellent war story, others flourish with a well-told anti-war novel. Slaughterhouse-Five is a brilliantly written book. If you have yet to read it, please do so.

Film Review: Blue Valentine

Blue Valentine directed by Derek Cianfrance (Hunting Lane Films and Silverwood Films, rated R. 112 minutes)

Starring Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams.

The Anti-Reality of the Hollywood Divorce

What kills a relationship? Hollywood typically answers this question in extremes. Too often, a marriage falls apart as a husband is unfaithful or a wife completely changes her personality.

In real life, many relationships end with the passing of time. When people jump into commitments early, the warts and ugly spots of each person creep out and many marriages lose during the test of time.

Sure, some relationships end over the big things so often depicted in Hollywood, but sometimes a marriage dissolves after many small-yet-irksome qualities emerge. With the film, Blue Valentine, director Derek Cianfrance seeks to display a marriage falling apart because of the little things.

Meet the Characters

Blue Valentine portrays the relationship of Dean (Ryan Gosling) and Cindy (Michelle Williams), a couple working in blue collar jobs in small-town Pennsylvania. With a young daughter named Frankie, the couple struggles with day-to-day family issues.

Photo by Davi Russo

Dropping out of high school, Dean grew up in a broken home where his mother left him during a tender age. With no desire to pursue a career, Dean provides for his family as a house painter. He works eight hours a day and spends the rest of his time enjoying his family. With a crooning voice and a love for music, Cindy believes that Dean could do much more with his life.

Cindy, on the other hand, hails from a different sort of dysfunction. Her parents, despite an obvious deterioration in their marriage, remained together for the sake of their child. As such, Cindy refuses to “stay together for the kids.”

Employed as a nurse, Cindy settled for a working-class career after marrying Dean. During college, her ambition pointed her toward medical school and private practice. Yet, unforeseen circumstances led her to settling down and beginning a family.

While Frankie spends the night with grandpa, Dean and Cindy head to a hotel for a date night with hopes of rekindling the marital flame. This night proves to be the crux of their relational issues as the night unfolds and both Dean and Cindy must deal with their problems.

Acting as Subtlety

Ultimately, Blue Valentine frighteningly depicts an unfolding relationship in realistic terms. Gosling and Williams play their parts with stunning simplicity.

The director, Derek Cianfrance, encouraged Gosling and Williams to live in a rural Pennsylvania house with their child-actor daughter to create the subtle disharmony seen on screen. In fact, Cianfrance went so far as creating off-screen fights between the two in order to make the parts as real as possible.

Cinematrographical Beauty and Realistic Dialogue

Inserted throughout the movie are scenes of Dean and Cindy’s courtship six years earlier. Shot with different film and the stars weighing fifteen pounds lighter, these happy times exhibit the stark contrast between past and present. In perhaps my favorite scene in the movie, Dean strums a ukulele and croons a mournful song as Cindy tap dances on a sidewalk in Brooklyn.

As a counterbalance to this joyous scene, we see Cindy quietly eating dinner with Dean in a hotel room. Softly she proclaims, “You had so much potential.” For her, a blue-collar husband was not her envisioned plan as she heard the melodies of a promising musician.

Interestingly, Dean retorts, “This life was not what I had planned but now that I have it, it is what I want.” In a profound way, each person is fighting against their upbringing. Cindy cowers at the thought of a lifetime with a man she does not truly love. Dean, on the other hand, fights tooth and nail against separation knowing how it personally influenced his childhood.

Just as real relationships often fall apart as time decays the foundations of a marriage, Blue Valentine seeks to display a turbulent relationship through subtlety. With beautiful production, impeccable acting, and realistic dialogue, Blue Valentine is an excellent movie. Although its realism creates a difficult viewing of the movie, its underlying themes make this movie a must see!

Album Review: Codes and Keys

Codes and Keys by Death Cab for Cutie (Atlantic Records and Barsuk Records, 2011. 45 minutes)

Formed in Bellingham, Washington under the shadow of Western Washington University, Death Cab for Cutie is Ben Gibbard (vocals, guitar, piano), Chris Walla (guitars, production, keyboards), Nick Harmer (bass), and Jason McGerr (drums). The band signed to Barsuk Records off the strength of an early demo written primarily by Ben Gibbard. On Barsuk, Death Cab released four albums to much local and critical acclaim. Transatlanticism – perhaps the most famous release from their time on the Barsuk label – launched Death Cab as an international act. In 2004, Death Cab signed a worldwide deal with Atlantic Records and soon after released Plans, an album that was critically well-received, Grammy nominated, and certified platinum. The band’s next album, Narrow Stairs, became the band’s first album to reach the top of the Billboard charts. Recently, Death Cab released Codes and Keys landing 3^rd on the Billboard Charts.

An Excursus on Stadium Rock

Warranted or not, the general expectation from a stadium-sized rock concert is energetic and danceable music. There are night and day differences between a U2 and Sarah McLachlan show. For U2, the waterfall of guitar echoes fills the stadium and supplies an infectious energy. For Sarah, her muted tones and soft, angelic voice fit better in a smaller setting.

For most rock bands, outgrowing small- and medium-sized clubs requires a reworked sound. For some bands (Muse comes to mind), the transition is remarkably easy. Other bands, however, must shift to a larger sound.

Coldplay: An Illustration

To illustrate, Coldplay offers a modern example of this shift. Outside of the single, “Yellow,” Coldplay’s first record is well-suited as background music at a small club. With intimate instrumentation and lyric-based melodies, Parachutes is a soft record.

As Coldplay grew into a worldwide phenomenon, the band’s sound grew. Recent records X&Y and Viva La Vida or Death and All His Friends display a new Coldplay with densely textured instrumentation and grand sonic explorations. In short, these two records translate well in a stadium-sized concert.

The point of this short excursus is to liken Death Cab for Cutie’s current form of inconsistency to its lack of reformed sound as the band grows.

A Band Caught between Large and Small

Death Cab for Cutie made its name as a small club staple in Bellingham and Seattle. With slightly overdriven guitars, simple rhythms, and scholarly lyrics, Death Cab is tailor made for the hipster bar scene.

With success, the band has outgrown its habitat and Codes and Keys illustrates the band’s struggle with remaining true to its classic sound while trying to write big for large shows.

On the one hand, Codes and Keys finds Death Cab for Cutie remaining in similar musical textures to its origins. Chris Walla and Ben Gibbard mostly play an arpeggiated guitar with minimal strumming. Additionally, well-written lyrics remain a core strength in the band.

On the other hand, Codes and Keys finds Death Cab attempting to create a bigger sound. The production on the drums is beefy and loud. Additionally, the first single, “You Are a Tourist” finds a guitar riff drowning in high gain, as if the band knew loud riffage is a recipe for stadium rock.

At the end of the day, Death Cab is caught between who the band was and who they wish to be.

Marriage Makes a Man Happy

Lyrically, Ben Gibbard trades lugubrious stylings for sappy love songs. Clearly influenced by his marriage to indie starling, Zooey Deschanel, Gibbard sings in "Monday Morning,"

“She may be young but she only likes old things / And modern music it ain’t to her tastes / She loves the natural light / Captured in black and white.”

Despite Gibbard’s refusal to write from depths of sorrow, the lyrics in Codes and Keys are not 100 percent sap. In the title track, Gibbard opines,

“But the codes and keys / They can’t protect you from the pangs of jealousy / And when you scream / Love you seem / Like a child throwing stones at the sky / But when they fall back to earth / As minor chords of major works / In separate rooms, a single life / We are one, we are alive!”

With a keen sense of simile and illustrative words, Gibbard’s lyrics still anchor the band.

Sadly, Codes and Keys represents another effort in a transitional period for Death Cab for Cutie. No longer a band confined to small clubs, the band’s intimate indie rock does not translate well to arena shows. While the band recognizes the need for change, they have yet to successfully implement it in the studio. Thus, if you like the sound of pre-major label Death Cab, I think this album will not grace your “best of” list. If you are a fan of stadium rock, I doubt this record will resonate. However, if you are a fan of good lyrics, you might enjoy this record.

Book Review: The World is a Ball

The World Is a Ball: The Joy, Madness, and Meaning of Soccer by John Doyle (New York: Rodale, 2010. 352 pp)

Born in Ireland, John Doyle currently works as the television critic for Toronto’s The Globe and Mail. Holding a B.A. in English Literature and an M.A. in Anglo-English Studies from University College, Dublin, Doyle moved to Canada in order to pursue a Ph.D. at York University. Doyle writes about soccer for many publications and has worked on location at multiple World Cups and European Championships. In addition to The World Is a Ball, Doyle published A Great Feast of Light in 2005. Doyle has won two internal Globe and Mail awards for his writing.

Culture Soup

I've always thought it would be fun to attend a world event like the Olympic Games or a World Cup. The idea of a myriad of cultures converging on one city fascinates me. The sheer numbers, though, terrify me. I’m not a huge fan of large crowds.

Perhaps, for me, the World Cup provides the most intriguing spectacle. With soccer – the sport adored by the majority of the world, the world championship matters.

In The World Is a Ball, John Doyle explores this worldwide phenomenon. With a decade of soccer coverage for North American publications, Doyle provides a first-hand account of these tournaments and the convergence of cultures.

Watching Those Watching the Game

Interestingly, while one would think that Doyle would focus predominately on the tactics and analysis of the players on the pitch, he seems more interested in the fans. As the world watches the game, Doyle watches the supporters.

For ages, the media focus on hooliganism. With fear dispensed in small to medium doses, many foreigners avoid soccer matches for panic of fan-to-fan violence. Yet Doyle perceives these sporting events as moments of celebration no matter the end result.

On the field, Brazil plays with flair and beauty; in the stands, Brazilian fans act the same. On the field, Italy plays a slow, methodical game; in the stands, the fans are lazy and confident. On this principle, Doyle expands,

“That’s part of the complicated meaning of the World Cup. There is an elaborate synergy between the traveling fans and their country’s team. A nation projects itself, all its hopes and dreams and tangled histories, onto the team. And the team somehow embodies all the complex characteristics of the nation” (18).

Global Soccer

Moreover, views of nationalistic hooliganism fail in the face of globalized soccer. Where nationalism in the past existed with players remaining inside its countries borders, the new strategy for most national teams is to seek players and coaches from all over the world. Doyle writes,

“At the end, just before the Estádio da Luz erupts in colorful, spectacular fireworks displays, the TV commentator reminds viewers that the Greek coach, Otto Rehhagel, is German and Portugal’s coach, Luiz Felipe Scolari, is Brazilian. The point is to tell us that, even at this intensely competitive, nationalistic level, soccer transcends borders and nationality” (132).

Field Notes

However, The World Is a Ball flows poorly. As the book details international soccer matches over the last decade, the stories become repetitive and resemble field notes for the stories Doyle obviously filed for his paid gig.

Additionally, Doyle romanticizes the notion of fan and team unity. While international matches of yesteryear exhibited teams with a national style and identity, modern soccer has found tactics to become increasingly crowd-sourced. Successful national teams blend the possession-style total football of the Netherlands with the defensive tenacity of Italy and the aggressive set play style of Germany. In other words, the way teams play soccer today is becoming tactically similar.

Finally, Doyle writes with basic assumptions about soccer. For those interested in becoming acquainted with the sport, Doyle’s writing will leave you dazed and confused. While no one suggests that a soccer writer must begin a book with a basic explanation of soccer, Doyle uses soccer-specific terms without defining them for a broader audience. Although I understood him, I don’t think his lexicon of terms allows inclusion of non-soccer fans.

A Tragic View of the Universe

Despite my reservations, Doyle contemplates some of the deeper meanings behind the joys of soccer. With low scoring games, spotty refereeing, and theatrical flopping, soccer is not an Americanized sport. Yet, these very issues point to core artistic values. Doyle pens,

“Soccer is a sport perfectly designed to reinforce a tragic view of the universe, because basically it is a long series of frustrations leading up to near certain heartbreak” (311).

This sentiments ring true with the observance of one game. A team can play the perfect game and lose. While a pitcher in baseball gains muscle memory with practice in order to throw the same pitch in the same location whenever he desires it, a soccer player relies on luck. The best for which he or she can hope is to create enough chances to get a positive result.

On the topic of poor refereeing – an experience that United States Men’s National Team fans know full-well with the disallowed goal on a phantom foul against Slovenia in the last World Cup – Doyle writes,

“Injustice happens, but time passes, the world turns just as the ball does during the game. The whole point of the game is that the ball turns, moves forward, much like we do” (315).

Although The World Is a Ball plods somewhat without much stylistic difference and mischaracterizes the connections between the styling of fans and national teams, I enjoyed the first-hand account of the World Cup. With a convergence of culture in one country, we see something bigger than a sporting event; we see a global culture. If you can get past the difficulties and understand the basic terms in soccer, The World Is a Ball is an entertaining read. Nevertheless, I suggest starting somewhere else in soccer literature.

Television Show Review: The Killing

The Killing: Season 1 developed by Veena Sud (Fox Television Studios, KMF Films, and Fuse Entertainment)

Starring Mireille Enos, Joel Kinnaman, Billy Campbell, Michelle Forbes, and Brent Sexton.

To Speak Frankly

Veena Sud, developer of The Killing, a U.S.-based version of the Danish series Forbrydelsen, needs to go away. In an article penned by Tim Appelo for the Hollywood Reporter, Sud responded to the significant critical and popular backlash to her show with the notion that the public does not understand her greatness.

Relating her show to The Sopranos, Sud proclaimed, “The fact that people love us or hate us is a beautiful thing. I don’t want to be kinda liked.” What is this backlash? Well, for most viewers, it began when an exceptional pilot devolved into a meandering mess of a first season. The only thing keeping the audience tuning in on Sunday nights was the understanding communicated from Sud herself that, at the end of the season, we would know who killed Rosie Larsen.

The House of Cards

Sadly and with a spoiler alert in full effect, the cliffhanger at the end of the season ensured that the one promise the viewers thought they had came crashing down like a house of cards.

The season depicts the murder investigation of Rosie Larsen. With each episode portraying one day’s time, The Killing resides in the procedural drama genre. Where CSI focuses on one investigation per episode, The Killing engages in one investigation over the entire season. Both in its season-long narrative framework and its setting in the Pacific Northwest, The Killing draws easy comparisons with Twin Peaks.

Writers: Killing Potential

Photo by Frank Ockenfels

Despite the near unanimous backlash against the show, it contained promise. First, the pilot episode really drew me to the series. With a dark sense of foreboding, dreary shots of the Seattle skyline, and space for character development, I thought The Killing showed the promise of a modern classic.

Yet, as the show unveiled, it became clear that the writers spent ages perfecting the pilot and had little sense of direction and character development for the rest of the season.

With continual red herrings and a refusal to dive into the back stories of central characters, the season plodded with no clear purpose and no characters worth following.

Where True Emotion Dies

Second, the show provided space to clearly depict a family suffering through the loss of the child. Too often in procedurals, the victim’s family plays a vindictive counterbalance. The murderer did something awful and the family depicts the rage of eye-for-an-eye justice.

The Killing, however, portrays the Larsen family on the cusp of comprehensive breakdown. For the mother, simple day-to-day tasks become unbearable; the father, a stoic external façade silences the inner despair of losing a child.

Yet, I can’t help but think that the Twin Peaks parallels provide a sense of guilt for the Larsen family. Despite the depiction of suffering, we know very little about the family. Given the cliffhanger at the end of the season, it is not out of the question to hear that Season 2 will exhibit the family as the mastermind behind the murder.

Two Thumbs Down

In the end, The Killing was incredibly disappointing. Part of me hopes that Veena Sud is the genius she thinks she is because the show still has the potential to weave a Lost-like story of character connection around a murdered teenager.

But the on-screen evidence suggests that Sud is self-deceived. Her writing staff is horrid and the deception around the season finale left her viewers somewhere between annoyed and angry. For these reasons, I probably won’t watch Season 2. If I hear some positive, critical reviews, I’ll contemplate watching. But for now, consider me burned by The Killing.

Album Review: Strange Negotiations

Strange Negotiations by David Bazan (Barsuk Records, 2011. 41 minutes)

A prolific songwriter, David Bazan began his career as the front man of Pedro the Lion and continued playing in the band The Headphones. Located in Seattle, Washington, Bazan currently works as a solo artist. Known best during his Pedro the Lion days for his theologically rich lyrics, Bazan’s time in The Headphones and as a solo artist depict a philosophical shift as his lyrics combat his problems with alcohol and Evangelical Christianity. Curse Your Branches – considered by many, including myself, to be a masterpiece, is Bazan’s first full-length record as a solo artist. Bazan lives in Edmonds with his wife and daughter.

A Complicated Relationship

I have a complicated relationship with David Bazan. On one hand, his mix of poetic lyricism, threadbare instrumentalism, and exposed vocals supply some of my favorite moments in music. On the other hand, I have reservations with Bazan’s highly publicized quarrel with the Almighty and his struggle with alcoholism. Yet, these inner demons provide fertile ground for profoundly well-written music.

Where Curse Your Branches, Bazan’s first solo effort, explores his fight with alcohol and the end of his relationship with the Christian God, Strange Negotiations projects Bazan’s jaded rancor outward to the rest of society.

Strange Negotiations

In perhaps my favorite tune on the record, “Strange Negotiations,” Bazan’s lyrics express his deeply held turmoil with himself and others. He sings,

“You cut your leg off to save a buck or two / Because you never considered the cost / You find the lowest prices everyday / But would you look at everything we’ve lost / Yeah it’s true I learned it from watching you / But now it’s you who doesn’t know what a dollar is worth / You got the market its own bodyguard / And all the people are getting hurt”

Typical of his lyrics, Bazan masterfully weaves an emotional story in his songs; he writes from a place of vulnerability. Listening to Strange Negotiations is like allowing Bazan to paint a picture in your brain.

Raw Energy

Musically, Bazan exchanges the acoustic guitar and occasional percussive rhythm of Curse Your Branches for raw, three-piece rock. When the first downbeat encounters the eardrum in the opener, “Wolves at the Door,” the listener understands that this record is extremely different. With an overdriven bass, a steady drumbeat, and lead guitar, Strange Negotiations rocks.

Although subtle, my favorite musical moment occurs on “Wolves at the Door.” When the energetic bass riff at the beginning of the songs shift down an octave a couple of bars later, the harmonic difference reverberates deep in my bones. Truthfully, the basic-yet-raw energy makes this record.

Vulnerable Honesty

Despite my reservations with Bazan’s strained relationship with the church, he churns out records with vulnerable honesty. Strange Negotiations is no Curse Your Branches. Not only are the records strikingly different, but also, Curse Your Branches signifies Bazan’s magnum opus. By default, Strange Negotiations fails to keep up.

Nevertheless, I thoroughly enjoy Strange Negotiations and recommend it for anyone who enjoys thoughtful lyrics and simplistic rock music.