4/5

Last year on this date, 4/5, we had a 45 party. Maybe it was the year before. Everybody brought a few records and we whooped it up. I wanted to do it again but we have an art opening to attend so I made plans to talk about the new Real Angel Corpus Christi record. Lindsey Hutton writes the liner notes and I should probably just reprint those but here goes. 

The package is stunning, like a giant 45, a European one on the front and and an American one on the flip side. We have two Angel Corpus Christi 7 inches and three of those four sides are included here. The record is chocked full of singles. 

The accordion is exactly the right instrument for Angel’s International pop sound. Pull Girl is a smash. The low end quiver on Dream Baby Dream rattles the dishes in our cupboard. The ultimate Suicide song features Alan Vega himself on backups. Angel’s Barbarians cover, a perfect choice for her, sounds like it’s being performed live in a teen club, maybe a converted bowling alley, the way bands sounded in the Panorama Bowl when I was sixteen. Dean and Britta join Angel on an a dreamy, instrumental version of Femme Fatale, maybe my favorite cut. I would die to hear that played on the street in SF the way she used to.

Sadder is Peggi’s favorite! If only Lou Reed had taken the advice Angel offers on Lou Reed’s Hair. MX80’s Bruce Anderson plays guitar on Face in the Crowd and the lp finishes with a brilliant mash-up of Walk on the Wild Side and Henry Mancini’s Elephant Walk.

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Golden Years

Rick's snowblower in Spring
Rick’s snowblower in Spring

“I remember when that song was just bad.” Ben Stiller’s character in “While We’re Young” couldn’t resist telling Adam Driver’s character this when he heard Toto’s “Eye of the Tiger.” And the funny thing is it does sound good now. Noah Boaumbach’s movie is a real mashup of generations and hipness, dying art forms and new technology, a real clash of those with their best years receding and those with them ahead. It has been awhile since we came out of a movie we immediately wanted to see again. You want to be able to recall more lines so you can toss them off in similar situations the way Dave Mahoney, who died nine years years tomorrow, used to do.

This is Boaumbach’s best movie yet, better than the “Squid and The Whale,” way better than “Francis Ha” and giant leap from “Greenberger,” the real precursor to this one. Ben Stiller is fearless. Not afraid to do anything on screen. If it isn’t him speaking, his facial reactions, his expressions, his body language, the way he walks, rides a bike or dances, he is so on he steals every scene.

Louise‘s brother, a frequent Boaumbach extra, is in the movie, this time playing a goofy shaman who oversees a ceremony where mushrooms are ingested, the participants puke and the shaman takes off with a young girl on his moped.

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