.: Ken Wohlrob's Toilet :.

Why I love reading Simenon

2009-09-03T09:19:00.004-04:00

I've been on a bit of a Simenon kick after reading The Man Who Watched Trains Go By. Having enjoyed that book immensely, I decided to try my hand at The Strangers In the House. I'm not not to far into the book, but already in the first chapter, I found another glaring example of Simenon's simple mastery of writing riveting prose. I'm not giving anything away, since the flap copy on the book details it specifically, by telling you that the book opens with the main character, Loursat, discovering that someone has been shot in an upstairs room of his house. In the scene below, Simenon -- in perfectly crafted prose, not an extra bit of fat or superfluous description -- captures the moment of discovery when Loursat first hears the sound of a gunshot. Read a bit:

Normally few sounds reached him in his study. There was Joséphine, of course, who slept in a room immediately above. She went upstairs at exactly ten o'clock every night, and stumped about overhead for a good half hour before finally getting into bed.

But Phine had got into bed at least an hour ago. The sound he had just heard was quite an unusual one, in fact it was precisely its strangeness that had roused Loursat from his torpor.

At first he thought of the crack of a whip, a common enough sound to hear in the early morning when the garbage-men went on their rounds.

But this noise hadn't come from outside. Nor was it the crack of a whip. There was more weight in it than that, more percussion, so much so that he had felt a slight shock in his chest before his ears actually heard it.

As he looked up, listening, the expression on his face was one of slight annoyance at the intrusion. It might have been taken for anxiety, but it wasn't that.

What was so impressive was the silence that followed. A silence more compact, more positive than any ordinary one, but which yet seemed full of strained vibrations.

He didn't get up from his chair at once. He filled his glass, emptied it, put his cigarette back in his mouth, then heaved himself up and went over to the door, where he listened for a second before opening it.

When he switched on the light in the passage, three dusty lamps lit up receding stretches of emptiness. There was no one there, nothing except that weighty tense silence.

"Nicole!" he called softly.

He was certain now that it was a shot that he had heard. He still tried to persuade himself that it might have come from outside, but he didn't really believe it.

That description of the silence is so taut and perfect that it carries you out of the room, taking you all the way upstairs to the mysterious location of the gun shot. You are no longer standing with Loursat. Instead you are in the room, hearing the echo of the gun, standing with all parties involved, caught up in that tense moment of aftershock, when everyone is still can't believe what has just happened. Then Simenon takes you back downstairs, back to Loursat, to share his disbelief in the sound he just heard.

Now that's writing.

Where the hell have I been?

2009-09-01T08:21:00.002-04:00

Sorry for the lack of posts. But I've been hard at work on this bastard. First draft is done. I'm in the throes of rewrites now. More details to come soon...

Download a new short story: The Metronome Winds Down

2009-07-21T09:04:00.002-04:00

The single-story e-book crusade continues with the second installment of my special summer releases available to readers for only $1.99 each. You can now download "The Metronome Winds Down" in PDF, Kindle, ePub, Mobi, Palm, or Sony reader format. Just think: for less than the cost of a cheap bottle of beer, you get yourself a nice gritty piece of storytelling.

Here is the plot: What would you do to keep your wife alive? If Pat can scrape together ten grand, he can buy his wife two more months. But he doesn't have the cash. So he comes up with a scheme to get the money. But at what price?

Now that you know the setup, click on these links to buy and download:
LuLu (PDF format) | Amazon Kindle | Scribd (PDF format) | Smash Words (PDF, ePub, Palm, LRF/Sony format) |

As with "Job in Williasmburg," this is part of my little experiment to test the idea of single-story e-book downloads. I'll be releasing a single-story e-book download each month, all priced at $1.99. I'll eventually release most of them in a single trade paperback collection. But with publishing models being stood on their head in the digital age, I don't have to wait to get these stories into your hands (or hard drives in this case). Enjoy.

And if you've never read an e-book before, click here for a quick "how to."

Coming Soon: The Metronome Winds Down

2009-07-19T18:54:00.001-04:00

A brand new short story, available for $1.99.

Book of the Week: The Man Who Watched Trains Go By by Georges Simenon

2009-06-30T23:13:00.003-04:00

He was a quiet man. That's what they always say about the guy who one day picks up an axe and wipes out the whole family. Kees Popinga, the central character of Georges Simenon's The Man Who Watched Trains Go By, is just such a fellow. He's got everything dialed nice and tight. He's obsessed with having constructed a first rate life: a wife, a daughter, a stove, and a house all of the "highest quality." And then in the course of one evening, as Popinga discovers that the company that helped provide this postcard-perfect life is now bankrupt, it all goes to pot. Kees Popinga snaps, kisses his whole life goodbye in one bold stroke, and embarks on a violent spree that leads him across three countries and makes him the killer du jour of the European press.

Thus, Simenon rendered one of his best roman durs, or hard novels, so named because they involve uncomfortable situations. The pacing of the novel is impeccable; Simenon allows the reader no breathing room. Perhaps it was due to the fact that The Man Who Watched Trains Go By was Simenon's eleventh novel published in 1938. That's right, eleventh. Simenon's reputation for cranking out the prose is almost unparalleled. His record was 40 novels published in 1929 (all written under various pseudonyms according to Luc Sante's introduction). Once Popinga has made up his mind to leave his old life, we are dragged by the shirt collars along with this once simple man, as he drifts further and further into madness. The bodies start to pile up and in no time, Popinga has changed from an accidental madman to a cold-calculating psychopath.

Popinga's psyche is at the heart of The Man Who Watched Trains Go By. While not told in first person, we are stuck in Popinga's brain throughout the novel. We see the reaction of Popinga's wife, as he suddenly starts to behave in un-husbandly ways, or the mocking laughter of the prostitute, Pamela, that drives Kees over the edge. As Popinga gets to the point of no return, choosing to engage in a game of cat and mouse with the French police, we are there in his skull, seeing Popinga's deranged motives and actions laid out before us. We see how we reacts to lies printed about him in the press (an especially sore sticking point that causes him to start addressing the French papers directly). We feel his mistrust of the underworld characters who cross his path (and him). We feel his rage at the lack of respect he feels from the police, especially Commissioner Lucas. All the while, we are feeling what Popinga feels, a credit to Simenon's ability to give the madman all-too-familiar psychological shortcomings.

It is with wonderful irony that Popinga's rampage, deemed a product of madness by the press, becomes a game of chess between him, the authorities, and the underworld. An avid chess player, with a noted streak for being a sore loser, Popinga considers himself a superb tactician. We see him calculate scenarios, possible reactions, and end-game maneuvers, all the while convinced of his assured victory. And in the end, you become addicted to Popinga's madness, caught up in his scheme, greatly anticipating every turn of the page.

Chalk it up to a highly skilled writer who knew his craft, and more importantly, his characters. As Sante, details in his introduction, Simenon had a somewhat unorthodox approach to concocting his stories:

"On a large yellow envelope he would, over the course of a week or two, write the names of his characters and whatever else he knew about their lives and backgrounds: their ages, where they had gone to school, their parents' professions. The envelope might additionally contain street maps of the novel's setting, although it would never say a word about the book's eventual plot. Once he was satisfied with these notes, he would enter the hermitage of his study and knock off the book at the rate of a chapter every morning."

One can see how Simenon's writing routine infuses Popinga with so much life. We know this man. Most of us have worked with him at one time or another. The fellow who is perfectly content and sedentary in his quiet suburban existence. Simenon, having laid out his pedigree prior to the novel, wastes no time stripping him of the illusion of his worth as an adult and father, turning him into a cold-calculating human animal that bears no resemblance to the content, puffed-up Popinga we are introduced to at the beginning of the novel.

Over the course of this short and punchy tale, Simenon leaves us with a very dark and disturbing exploration of a former sheep who attempts to change his entire existence, remaking himself as a the wolf. In the end, Popinga never turns out to be as smart or as ingenious as he hopes. He wants to love women, but can only kill them. He wants recognition as a criminal mastermind, but is only considered a psychotic madman. The punchline that Simenon delivers so superbly is that no matter how much Popinga's megalomania convinces him that he is up to the task, he's not the man he wishes to be.

Tim Hall Uplifts the Positivicals on Act-i-Vate

2009-06-21T10:43:00.009-04:00

Good friend and fellow Blacksmith for Literary Progress Tim Hall has a brand new exclusive series live on Act-i-Vate titled "Uplift the Positivicals." Never one to do the same thing twice, this is Tim's experiment in text comics. The first installment, "San Diego Sutra" went live a couple of weeks ago. Having just read Chapter 2, I can tell you the prose poem keeps getting better with each installment.

Click on these links to view each chapter:
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

You can also pre-order Tim's new non-fiction book-length essay, How America Died: A Letter to the Future. The first printing is only 25 copies, and won't be for sale anywhere except through Tim. Each copy will be numbered and signed, with an original, corrected manuscript page tipped in.

And of course if you aren't hip to Act-i-Vate, do check out the innovative work there. Conceived by Dean Haspiel, the site has become a home for outstanding web comics by some of my favorite graphic artists (both old and new) including Dean himself, Nick Bertozzi, Rami Efal, and Josh Neufeld. Do give it a spin, you won't be disappointed.

Download a new short story for only $1.99

2009-06-15T21:12:00.009-04:00

Who says storytelling can't survive in the digital age? Presenting, for your reading pleasure, a brand new, never before released short story titled "Job in Williamsburg" now available for a measely $1.99.

It's the tale of Ramón, a poor painter who wants nothing more than to be a great artist. He talks to paintings. Sometimes they talk back to him. A pariah on the local art scene, who thinks he's just painted a masterpiece. But things do not go as planned. Go ahead: skip a cup a coffee, plunk down some change, and you've got yourself one hell of a short story. It's available in PDF, ePub, LRF (Sony eReader), Palm, or Amazon Kindle format; think of it as a damn good punk single.

Click on these links to buy and download:
Scribd (PDF format) | Amazon Kindle | Smash Words (PDF, ePub, Palm, LRF/Sony format) | LuLu (PDF format)

While I'm still hard at work on the next book, "No Tears for Old Scratch," I decided to try a little experiment. I'll be releasing a single-story e-book download each month, all priced at $1.99. I'll eventually release most of them in a single trade paperback collection. But with publishing models being stood on their head in the digital age, I don't have to wait to get these stories into your hands (or hard drives in this case). It's all part of my firm belief that as e-books, portable reading devices, and universal e-book file formats will be good for authors. Shorter content will become more popular again. Short stories will come back in the same way that singles came back for music, and the old pariah of the publishing world might just regain its luster.

Coming Soon: Job in Williamsburg

2009-06-15T07:23:00.002-04:00

A brand new short story, available for $1.99.

Vinyl Find: Milt Jackson & Ray Charles -- Soul Brothers

2009-06-13T10:00:00.002-04:00

On a lazy Sunday afternoon, just prior to heading out to a local bar, I had some extra time to go rummaging in the bins of record shops off 1st Avenue. While digging through the new arrivals bin at one of the shops, I stumbled on to this great meet up between Milt Jackson and Ray Charles. The album was recorded in 1957, prior to Charles attaining any notoriety (as one can see by Jackson getting front billing on the album). It's a stellar jazz album, made even better by Charles infusion of soul and laid back groove to songs. Both "Blue Funk" and "How Long Blues" slide in low and long, a lazy southern swing that instantly sweeps you along. Amazingly both musicians step outside their normal realm, with Jackson playing some great blues guitar and piano, and Charles actually playing alto sax. Also points go to the renowned bassist Oscar Pettiford for giving the rhythm section the right swing and bounce. This is a definite must-play for lazy summer mornings and evenings.

Give a listen to the super laid back "Blue Funk."

If you don't have flash, use this link to listen.

Mavis Gallant reads "In Transit"

2009-06-12T07:09:00.003-04:00

The first time I read "Paris Stories," a collection of Mavis Gallant's short stories released by NYRB, I was instantly bowled over. Quickly, Gallant became one of my favorite short story writers, up there with O'Connor, Crane, Akutagawa, Mishima, and Borges. Her sad characters, that live and breathe with deep personalities, and dry sense of humor made "The Ice Wagon Going Down The Street," "In Transit," "Speck's Idea," and "Grippes and Poche" instant favorites. These stories had a major influence on my writing, including many of the tales included in The Love Book. Sadly , Gallant is still something of an unknown here in the states, despite having that same impact on a slew of well-respected modern writers. So it was nice to see Granta Magazine post this new video of Mavis Gallant reading her short story, "In Transit," at the Village Voice Bookshop. It is a great example of Gallant's talent for telling a simple, perfect story.

Mavis Gallant reads from her fiction from Granta magazine on Vimeo.

Jiri Sopko -- Orange (1981)

2009-06-01T07:34:00.008-04:00

One of the joys of traveling is discovering artists from other countries that are not as well known in my native homeland. While visiting Prague, I was lucky enough to see a great exhibit at City Gallery Prague titled "In the Spectrum of Vareity: 11 + 1." One of the artists featured in the exhibit was Jiri Sopko, a prominent member of the Czech school of the grotesque. His paintings immediately intrigued me, especially "Orange" from 1981. I loved how he portrayed his weird, stylized figures with contorted faces in bright, vibrant colors. I'll post a few more discoveries in the upcoming weeks.

Book of the Week: The Rebels by Sándor Márai

2009-05-30T12:51:00.004-04:00

I was lucky enough to read Sándor Márai's The Rebels while traveling through Budapest, Bratislava, and Prague. This was part of my standing rule of reading a novel from the country you are visiting while traveling. In paid off well with Stevenson in the UK and Strindberg in Sweden. It did not serve me well with Bowles in Morocco. In the case of Márai it was a perfect fit. Having had my feet on the ground, mangling the Hungarian language in my worst attempts at communicate with the locals, I experienced the feeling of Budapest for myself.

There is a mellowness and peace to Hungarians these days. It may be due to the fact that until recently, Hungary was constantly being conquered by one empire or military power after another. The Turks, Habsburgs, Nazis, and Stalinists all took their turn. For a brief period, leading up to and into World War I, Hungary merged with Austria, forming the second largest country in Europe. However, the defeat of the central powers in World War I, including Austria-Hungary, lead to 70 years of dark days for the country. It is at that stumbling point -- Austria-Hungary's entry in the war -- that Márai sets the book, having experienced first hand the embarrassing (for Hungarians) dissolution of the dual monarchy and its multi-ethnic society.

I state all this not to drone on about trivia, but to point out the context of The Rebels and the historical reality of what Márai experienced at the time of the writing the novel. For some reason, Americans don't seem to 'get' The Rebels. I've seen reviews where readers say the book is too foreign to enjoy, have labeled Márai as anti-Semitic and homophobic, and even more absurd, state that they cannot relate to the characters because they are all adolescent males. Take that Holden Caulfield. These sad misperceptions of The Rebels cause these readers to miss out on what is a superb novel. Dated, perhaps. Esoteric to western culture? No more than any Russian novel. Anti-everything-under-the-sun? Considering that Márai pined for multi-ethnic and multi-cultural Hungary in his Memoir of Hungary, was highly critical of the Nazis (a dangerous stance under the Arrow Cross Government), and soundly against the subsequent puppet-communist regime installed by Stalin, it is very doubtful the book has a prejudice against anything except oppression and senseless death.

As the title suggests, the focus of the book is rebellion. In this case, four childhood friends who, fearing their subsequent banishment to the front lines of World War I, engage in a very adolescent form of rebellion, starting with lying, but eventually moving on to mind games, and out-and-out theft. The friends -- Ábel, Tibor, ErnÒ, and Béla -- are snapshots of Hungarian youth at that time. The first a wealthy (but disassociated) son of a doctor, the second an almost too beautiful and unrugged son of a colonel, the third a lower class son of a disfigured cobbler, the fourth an irresponsible son of a shopkeeper. At the start of the book, all four are lost -- at least in the sense that the looming spectre of death in the trenches has them incapable of seeing any future. This is represented most notably by Tibor's brother who returned from the front minus an arm and a good chunk of his sanity. The disorderly appearance of Ábel's room, after a night of drinking and card playing, is a perfect metaphor for the state of mental disarray they are experiencing. In this mess, Ábel discovers by chance that one of the four has cheated at cards. Rather than be infuriated by the trickery, it spurs Ábel (and eventually the others) to attempt more daring forms of lying, deceit, and thievery. They become, in essence, a gang. The misguided rebellion, as one would expect, leads to their downfall, most notably at the hands of the pawnbroker Havas and a mysterious accomplice, who is not revealed until later in the book. Ultimately, this downfall becomes a tale of revenge, spurned on by class conflict, homophobic resentment, and a disconnect with authority (most notably represented by the fathers of the tale).

Márai is one of those exceptional writers who was able to make his characters live and breathe. A great example of this is the actor, Amadé, who is rendered so wonderfully complete in his idiosyncrasies, expressions, and almost bipolar flips in emotion:

"It was as if his girth were no more than some kind of misapprehension that existed between him and the world at large, and he never ceased talking about it. He spoke eloquently and at length to both intimates and strangers in the effort to persuade them that he was not fat. He produced precise measurements and medical tables showing average proportions to prove he was as slender as a flamingo and that his figure was in all respects the manly ideal, his belly swelling as he did so because, in his passion, he forgot to hold it in."

When not giving the characters the well-roundedness that is signature to the book or focusing on their exploits, Márai paints dark portraits of the town, reminding the reader that in spite of the self-centered acts of the four teenagers, there is the darker world of World War I surrounding them. This description of corpses from the war nails the looming threat and the stark reality of the novel's setting perfectly:

"All objects--houses, public squares, whole towns--puff themselves up with spring moonlight, swelling and bloating like corpses in the river. The river dragged such corpses through town at a run. The corpses swam naked and traveled great distances... they floated rapidly down on the spring flood heading towards their ultimate terminus, the sea. The dead were fast swimmers."

In the end, it is the gang's reluctance to own up to the consequences of their actions, their shucking off of adult responsibility in favor of blind rebellion, that proves to be their downfall. They are still children, playacting at rebellion. Márai parodies this superbly when Amadé brings the gang to a theater, dressing them up as characters in a bad stage play. The gang is happy to keep up their exploits when the going is easy, but they grow increasingly panicky and paranoid as their schemes begin to unravel. When the consequences are laid out so clearly at the end of the novel, Márai lets no one off easy.

Perhaps that is because Márai knew where all this rebellion and senseless violence would lead. It never served Hungary well in real life, only resulting in the death of too many citizens for senseless reasons. And in the world of The Rebels, every action has a consequence that ultimately wrenches the gang into adulthood with all its ugly realities.

Sat. May 9th: A Memorial Reading for Richard Leck

2009-04-29T07:05:00.004-04:00

Good friend and fellow Blacksmith for Literary Progress Karen Lillis has organized a special memorial reading for our departed friend Richard Lick here in New York City on May 9th. Do stop by the Bowery Poetry Club for the event. Full details are below...

Words Like Kudzu Press will host a memorial reading for Richard Leck at the Bowery Poetry Club on Saturday, May 9th from 2:00pm-3:30pm. It will be called "Praise Day Reading for Richard Leck." Admission will be free. Several writers will read from Richard's poems and excerpts from his memoir, "Jumped, Fell, or Was Pushed." Come celebrate Richard's humor, his life, and his words.

Free giveaways: Richard Leck's poetry chapbook, Memory Hair, and
copies of Go Metric No. 22, with an excerpt from Richard's memoirs.

Readers:

Steve Dalachinsky, NYC poet

Bob Holman, NYC poet who runs the Bowery Poetry Club

Arthur Nersesian, East Village novelist

Jackie Sheeler, NYC poet and poetry MC

Margarita Shalina, poet, translator, indie press book buyer @ St Mark's Books

Brian Cogan, author of Encyclopedia of Punk Music and Culture

Tom Hendrickson, writer under the radar

Karen Lillis from Words Like Kudzu Press will MC

Six Deaths: A Holy One

2009-04-27T13:48:00.002-04:00

Here is the final audio short story from "Six Deaths," titled "A Holy One," which is my personal favorite from the collection. Chalk it up to my blasphemous nature.

If you don't have flash, use this link to listen.

Be sure to check back tomorrow for the next installment.

You can read all six stories from Six Deaths by clicking on the image below or go to Six Sentences to check them out. Enjoy.

Open publication - Free publishing - More six sentences

Six Deaths: An Artistic One

2009-04-23T14:26:00.002-04:00

Here is the next audio short story from "Six Deaths," titled "An Artistic One," which kind of borrows a little bit from Balzac's "The Unknown Masterpiece."

If you don't have flash, use this link to listen.

Be sure to check back tomorrow for the next installment.

You can read all six stories from Six Deaths by clicking on the image below or go to Six Sentences to check them out. Enjoy.

Open publication - Free publishing - More six sentences

Six Deaths: A High-Velocity One

2009-04-22T07:59:00.002-04:00

Here is the next audio short story from "Six Deaths," titled "A High-Velocity One."

If you don't have flash, use this link to listen.

Be sure to check back tomorrow for the next installment.

You can read all six stories from Six Deaths by clicking on the image below or go to Six Sentences to check them out. Enjoy.

Open publication - Free publishing - More six sentences

Six Deaths: An Ocular One

2009-04-20T07:44:00.002-04:00

Here is the next audio short story from "Six Deaths," a macabre tale titled "An Ocular One."

If you don't have flash, use this link to listen.

Be sure to check back tomorrow for the next installment.

You can read all six stories from Six Deaths by clicking on the image below or go to Six Sentences to check them out. Enjoy.

Open publication - Free publishing - More six sentences

Six Deaths: A Romantic One

2009-04-16T14:59:00.004-04:00

Here is the next audio short story from "Six Deaths," titled "A Romantic One."

If you don't have flash, use this link to listen.

Be sure to check back tomorrow for the next installment.

You can read all six stories from Six Deaths by clicking on the image below or go to Six Sentences to check them out. Enjoy.

Open publication - Free publishing - More six sentences

Six Deaths -- six new, six-sentence stories

2009-04-15T09:27:00.005-04:00

I'm proud to announce that Six Sentences has just posted a little collection of six macabre tales -- each six sentences long -- by yours truly titled "Six Deaths." It's kind of like my own little EP of Nick Cave songs. You can read the stories via the Issuu embed below or you can listen to the audio versions I'll be posting here (one per day, starting today). Scroll down to view the stories or listen to the first story, "A Big Top One." I actually wrote all the stories on my iPhone, using the Notes application, while riding the subway to and from work over the course of one week. Enjoy.

Open publication - Free publishing - More six sentences

Listen to me reading "A Big Top One" from "Six Deaths."

If you don't have flash, use this link to listen

Vinyl Find: Iron Maiden -- Maiden Japan 12" EP

2009-04-12T12:07:00.004-04:00

I first became a die-hard Iron Maiden fan during the Piece of Mind era. So my preference has always been for the stretch of albums that included The Number of the Beast, Piece of Mind, and Powerslave. Recently however, I've been going back to rediscover the Paul Di'anno era, especially the Killers album which is pretty damn stellar in terms of songs and musicianship. Part of my recent return to this time in Maiden's career has to do with how hungry the band was -- they were starting to build a reputation as a great live act and the songs at this time were still tough, punky, hi-energy barnstormers. Also, the Killers era marks the first appearance of Adrian Smith who would finally give Maiden that signature twin-guitar attack that makes them so notable. Listening to the Maiden Japan EP -- recorded right before vocalist Paul Di'anno left the band -- I'm still blown away at the band's over-the-top playing. Both Dave Murray and Adrian Smith make the record. Their guitar playing -- with the tone having a great thickness and punch not found on some of the later records -- has the swagger of two young guys just going for it. And yet, they're locked in step perfectly. Listen to the version of "Remember Tomorrow" and you'll hear what I'm talking about.

It is interesting to note that Maiden Japan wasn't produced by Martin Birch. Instead, longtime sound engineer Doug Hall mixed and produced the album with the band. This actually gives the EP a unique sound when compared to most Maiden discs. The guitars have more thickness and Steve Harris' bass has more bottom end (and less of his signature click clacky sound).

A few things I never knew:

Apparently there was a limited edition cover produced in Venezuela that had mascot Eddie holding up the decapitated head of singer Paul Di'Anno. Manager Rod Smallwood rejected the cover because Maiden were looking for a new lead singer at that time. But 25,00 or so were still produced and you can find them on eBay if you're lucky.

The live version of "Remember Tomorrow" on Maiden Japan is the same recording included on the B-side of "The Number of the Beast" single, except with Bruce Dickinson's vocals overdubbed over Paul Di'anno's original performance (in spite of the band claiming that the later B-side was recorded in Milan, Italy during 1981).

Give a listen to the crushing version of "Killers."

If you don't have flash, use this link to listen.

Vinyl Find: Anvil -- Metal on Metal

2009-04-04T11:37:00.002-04:00

I'm going to continue the run through old school Metal history -- and albums produced by Chris Tsangarides (see Tygers of Pan Tang's Spellbound) -- with the original kings of Canadian metal, Anvil. I found this tour promo version of the classic Metal on Metal at A-1 Records in the East Village. While some of the songs don't hold up as well now, there are three all time classics on here that any self-respecting metalhead should have in their music library: the instrumental "March of the Crabs," "666," and of course the title-track which still kicks like a mother. Sadly it never got much better for these guys, as you'll see in the new documentary coming out about the band. But Metal on Metal is still worth it's weight.

Give a listen to the title track (and feel free to bang thy head). I also included the trailer for the documentary below.

If you don't have flash, use this link to listen.

Text link to trailer for Anvil: The Story of Anvil.

Book of the Week: Unlucky Lucky Days by Daniel Grandbois

2009-04-02T23:28:00.001-04:00

I was on vacation in San Francisco recently and one of the necessary items on my to-do list was a pilgrimage to City Lights Books. While perusing the shelves, I spied a signed copy of Daniel Granbois’ Unlucky Lucky Days. Knowing the man’s name and having heard great things about him from trustworthy people, I decided to plunk down some hard-earned cash.

Grandbois gave me my money’s worth. Even though it is a slim book at 117 pages, Unlucky Lucky Days is packed with 73 short tales. The longest maxes out at three pages, the shortest three sentences. Each one shows a writer so comfortable in his own skin, that he appears flawless at times. Granbois plays around with characters and prose in unique and inventive ways, creating his own genre of absurdist fiction populated with dead (or soon to be dying) humans, living everyday objects, and sentient wild creatures. There are mirrors that long for a different perspective, revenge-seeking middle fingers, and storytelling balls of yarn, all of whom live and breathe as much as any of the human characters in the book.

The best pieces – “The Note,” “The Yarn,” “The Tunnel,” and “Almost Borges” -- are more serious in tone, but show great heart and Granbois’ adeptness at creating deep, robust stories with very minimalist prose. That is not to detract from the lighter tales such as “Toothpaste, “The Finger,” “Three Wise Men,” and “Svevo,” which showcase the author’s dry sense of humor perfectly. And even the stories that don’t hit with as much impact (every reader will have their own favorites) still draw you into the strange world of the tale, sometimes in three paragraphs or less.

It was while perusing the book in City Lights, that I stumbled on to “The Note” and read the first paragraph:

“A note was pinned to a man in his coffin. It said, ‘I only seem dead.’ The man’s sister had pinned it there, as she’d pinned it to his pajamas before bed each night -- so afraid was he of being buried alive.

With her help, he’d escaped that dreadful fate.

She, however, did not.”

That is all of five sentences and yet it speaks volumes about the characters. I was hooked. Everything that followed, on the flight home, and the subway rides to work, did not disappoint either.

It’s not often you get to read stories by a writer who can take his work seriously, but seems to be having so much fun with the stories. Completely brilliant.

Night of the Living Carcass

2009-03-31T23:03:00.005-04:00

I was lucky enough to have some time off last week to fly out to San Francisco and check out one of my favorite all time bands, Carcass. As soon as I heard reports of a full-on reunion last summer, I was pretty driven to see one of the most important death metal bands tear it up live. I had actually caught their show in New York City last fall, but had a friend on the west coast who was dying to see them and decided it was a good excuse for a little R&R. Those guys never disappoint. Everything about the show is spot on. It is still some of the best death metal ever crafted. The sociopolitical lyrics and imagery matched the aggression of the music perfectly. There is no irony to what they do. They take their music very seriously and come out to just devastate the crowd. And as a guitar player, it's amazing to watch two guys like Bill Steer and Michael Amott play so flawlessly (listen to the Heartwork album and you'll know what I'm talking about).

While at the show, I took advantage of the iPhone camera and snapped a few shots of the mighty Carcass. Enjoy.

Text link to slide show

Vinyl Find: Tygers of Pan Tang -- Spellbound

2009-03-14T10:50:00.005-04:00

One of the all-time great (and too often forgotten about) New Wave of British Heavy Metal Albums. Released at the same time as Iron Maiden's Killers, Tygers of Pan Tang's Spellbound just tears it up. It was their second album, with two new members, so the band had a lot to prove. In addition, they were competing with the likes of Priest, Maiden, Saxon, Def Leppard, Angel Witch, and Motörhead who all released stellar albums around this time. And the album still holds up to this day (as opposed to say Angel Witch's debut). The opening track "Gangland" and "Don't Stop By" are still in heavy rotation for me in the old school metal mix. Both Rob Weir and John Sykes (who would go on to play with Thin Lizzy and a ton of other bands) do a stellar job on guitar and new vocalist (at that time) Jon Deverill just belts it out, sticking with more guttural singing rather than trying to mimick Rob Halford or Bruce Dickinson.

Give a listen to the great old-school metal of "Gangland." It's so damn good, even German-thrash kings Kreator did a cover of it.

If you don't have flash, use this link to listen.

Armory Show Recap: Art is not dead...

2009-03-09T20:28:00.008-04:00

... but it's vital signs don't look so hot.

I walked away from the New York City armory show thinking one thing: all process and not enough passion. The art, especially in the contemporary pier, was very lackluster. In fact, the photographic work on display was head and shoulders above the paintings, cementing a thought I've had as of late: that photography has become far more groundbreaking. But for the most part, many of the pieces seemed as if the artists we really trying to impress with the amount of work they were putting into the project, rather creating art that struck one as truly memorable or innovative. All the Italian galleries seemed to be employing Darrel Hannah's character from Oliver Stone's Wall Street as their curator. It was that bad. Thankfully the Swedes and South Africans came with some very interesting pieces. The Modern Pier (up the treacherous improvised staircase) had more going for it, but even there it was more "eh" than fascinating.

However, there was still enough good art at the show to make the trip worthwhile. I was able to see "Arrest" by my favorite living painter, Odd Nerdrum. As always, I never cease to be awestruck by his work -- the flesh lives and breathes on his canvases. Seeing his painting "The Dying Couple" at the Konstmuseet in Göteborg, inspired me to write "Taking the Happy Bus on Home," which you can download as a free e-book here or read in The Love Book. In many ways, Deborah Poynton's great "Untitled" reminded me a lot of Nerdrum's style with its unflinching portrayal of human ugliness (that still resonates as beautiful). Both Annie Lapin's "Affection Experiment" and Adrian Ghenie's "The Collector" were wonderfully macabre. The former was almost a rendering of the now infamous soft mother/wire mother psychological experiment and the latter was very much in the Francis Bacon style with a grim Death-figure in a military uniform floating above the recently deceased. I also discovered the photo-realistic work of Gottfried Helnwein and his eerily gripping "Epiphany III (Presentation at the Temple)." Finally, on the last walk through, I spotted Romare Bearden's "Of the Blues." I've always been a huge fan of his Harlem street-life and jazz collages, so it feels like seeing an old friend when I spot his work.

Here are some shots of my favorite paintings from the Armory show: