Archives for category: reviews

Although it’s not always very “current,” I have updated my Currently Enjoying page. And, in the interest of balance, I will also share what I am currently not enjoying as well…

We love our Wii! Every game we have played — from the OG Wii Sports to Cooking Mama — has been fun and inventive. That is why, when I saw the cover of Ninjabread Man at Blockbuster, I had to rent it. The Gingerbread Man reimagined as a sword-wielding ninja? Brilliant! Said ninja attacking monster cupcakes and reducing them to jam? Almost perfect! So, eagerly, I brought the game home.

I suppose it had to happen sometime, but this was my first Wii letdown — and it was a doozy. Perhaps my anticipation drove my expectation past reasonable levels, but this game is just plain awful. The controls are utterly unresponsive. Instead of the gory jamfest I was hoping to incite, I found myself instead leisurely strolling into one cupcake attack after another. The poor Ninjabread Man cannot seem to stop himself, so I regularly fell off of each obstacle on which I was supposed to land (in order to get any further). The old school graphics, instead of being charming (like so many of the other Wii games), were choppy and grotesque. In fact, some of the old school NES games we downloaded on the Virtual Console were more aesthetically pleasing — even the blocky, pixelated world of the original Zelda.

Don’t judge the Ninjabread Man by his cover. He can promise the world, but the proof is in the pudding (or lack thereof).

Being a t-shirt junky and a fan of sometimes-obscure indie rock, I couldn’t help but smile at this “Music Snob” t-shirt. While none of these albums might qualify as “bluegrass synth” or “skate folk,” here are a couple of albums I have been enjoying lately.

After heralding a new age of Gypsy/indie rock (was there an old age?) with last year’s Gulag Orkestar, twenty-one year old Zach Condon has brought Balkan back with his latest release, The Flying Club Cup. It’s kind of hard to describe this album in a compelling way — Condon doesn’t sing, he croons; the album is, apparently, an homage to French music; there’s more accordion than on a Chicago push polka album. And yet, I’ve really been enjoying TFFC. In fact, I can’t get Nantes out of my head.

I wish Heresy and the Hotel Choir by Maritime had come out a couple of months ago, because it is packed to the hilt with what would be amazing summer driving songs. Although often billed as an indie supergroup (…featuring members of The Promise Ring! and The Dismemberment Plan!!), Maritime has crafted a set of lovely pop gems that stand up in their own right. Listen for yourself at Battle of the Midwestern Housewives.

New wave is the best and, apparently, Scandinavia agrees with me. Others fond of Kings of Convenience, The Whitest Boy Alive and (of course) the mighty New Order will probably rather dance to Pet Grief by The Radio Dept than talk with you. Pet Grief is more synthy and less shoegazer than past efforts, as evidenced by The Worst Taste in Music, but is much more than an 80s nostalgia trip.

Last Friday, our family went to see Architecture in Helsinki perform live at the House of Blues here in San Diego. The House of Blues has a “pass the line” policy, where concertgoers can be the first in line if they dine at the HoB restaurant. Because we wanted to make sure to get seats in the balcony, we ended up having dinner there before the show (which, it turns out, was pretty good). After dinner, we jumped the line and sat front row, center in the balcony.

Unfortunately, the first two acts were a serious letdown. Panther, which is essentially just one person, a delay pedal and a bunch of blips & bloops, was kind of fun for the first two songs. I think his music is more interesting in recorded form, as seen in this video clip for You Don’t Want Yr Nails Done. At least he brought along a live drummer. Glass Candy, on the other hand, was just a boy cranking out pseudo Kool & The Gang riffs on a half-size synth and a girl aerobacising and vocalizing in between the overly plentiful stage banter.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not opposed to indie kids discovering the dance floor. I mean, look at Matt and Kim. Some criticize them for being too precious, but it’s hard to deny their enthusiasm and joy. Check out their video for Yea Yeah and see if it doesn’t brighten up your day:

Our family loves all manner of live music, but even our daughter turned to me at one point during the Glass Candy set, frowned and shrugged. All I could do was shrug back. Things turned around quickly, however, as soon as Architecture in Helsinki took the stage.

From the get-go, they brought a level of raucous joy and excellent musicianship that basically turned a bunch of motionless indie kids into Dance Party USA. Listeners are helpless to do anything except smile and dance. Our little one was a total trooper, staying awake as late as she could. She stayed long enough to hear her favorite song, Like It Or Not (or, as she calls it, “The Trumpet Song”) — a hopped-up conga-line singalong extravaganza, before we had to call it a night.

Just to pick up a thought I had started before, I really, really wish I could experience this kind of joy and freedom in our church music. Seriously, when was the last time a worship band caused you to spontaneously smile and start dancing? Architecture in Helsinki definitely has that DIY, everyone’s invited kind of indie vibe, but they are not sloppy in their execution — for being basically an ensemble band, they are extremely tight. And, because they are so good at what they do, they are free to enjoy the music and draw others into it. A nice template for our worship bands, no?

These days, it seems like a band’s image is as important as the music they create. So, it is refreshing to see a bunch of normal looking people, not particularly dressed up get up onstage and rock the set. It worries me when, on all of my worship discs, every person has radiant skin, straight teeth and perfect hair — I’m not trying to take away anything from these artists, but simply hoping that our communities are open to all kinds of people, onstage or otherwise.

As the psalmist says, “Sing the glory of his name; make his praise glorious.”

A note of disclosure: I am a big fan of David Crowder’s work. My wife and I once took a couple of college students and drove two and half hours from northern Jersey into the wilderness of Long Island to attend one of his concerts. Like many others, I was thoroughly impressed with their last release A Collision — for its epic scope, indie rock ramblings (and extra long titles!) and for the circumstances under which the album was released (the album as a response to death, just as the band lost their close friend and pastor Kyle Lake).

The highly anticipated follow-up to A Collision (if we skip over B Collision, the ’06 EP of B-sides and other miscellany), Remedy, was released on September 25th. Though I understand the sentiment behind CCM Patrol’s review of Remedy — and I definitely appreciate their honesty (and, often, bluntness) in reviewing much of the music that is released in the Christian market — I was certainly not disappointed with this album.

Reviews are highly subjective. In fact, part of the fun of reading reviews is vehemently disagreeing with them (and later grumbling about what a bunch of cultural Philistines those reviewers are). As Marko wrote in his review of Remedy, when I listen to this album, I picture myself singing this in company of those who love the King (to borrow a Crowder phrase). One of my most powerful times of worship in the context of singing along with other people happened several years back at one of the Thirsty conferences. DC*B was leading their version of Thank You for Hearing Me, and right at the moment in which the distorted guitar kicks in (if you’ve heard the song, you’ll know what I’m talking about), thousands of earnest worshipers lifted their hands in unison. So, you will not read an impartial, detached, “pure” review of the album from me — it is virtually impossible for me to separate the experience of listening to the album from the experience of being there.

One interesting phenomenon surrounding DC*B is their popularity among Asian American youth — Korean American kids, in particular. As Andrew Beaujon writes in his book Body Piercing Saved My Life (which I also recommend), “…for some reason its members don’t fully understand, the David Crowder Band is huge among Korean Americans. They were due to play a large Korean church in New York City a few nights later and had recently played for a mostly Korean crowd of eleven thousand in Los Angeles.”

I actually had a short email correspondence with Crowder, which included a brief discussion of their popularity with Asian American kids. DC*B puts on a high energy show with lots of goofy fun. I was at their concert in LA that Body Piercing mentions, and one of the highlights of the evening was when Crowder broke out his shiny red keytar and challenged the crowd to make a louder noise than the Neil Diamond concert in town. You have to love a worship leader than gets all up in Neil Diamond’s grill. In all seriousness, though, I believe it is precisely this goofiness, freedom and spontaneity that appeals to Asian American youth. At home, for so many Asian American teens, their value is in direct proportion to their performance. There is very little room to make mistakes — after all, Johnny Kim down the street plays first-chair violin, is president of his youth group, and won a governor’s award for academic excellence — and he does everything his mother tells him to do, and he’s waltzing into Harvard a year early… on a full scholarship, no doubt.

So, when Crowder urges these kids to whistle along and get a little undignified as they connect with our God who loves them just as they are, something deep within them responds. Remedy therefore is an appropriate metaphor for our community as well — despite the veneer of perfection and achievement, we are an awful mess on the inside. For too many of us, the internal pressure builds up until it explodes in rage, binge drinking, or worse. What a sight it is when captives are genuinely freed in the presence of the King!

Remedy is definitely simpler in approach than A Collision — no rock operas or postmodern parenthetical asides on this album. However, Crowder continues to write simple lyrics that are deceptive in their depth. Take this beautiful line from their reworking of O for a Thousand Tongues to Sing, “There are so few words that never grow old… Jesus.” Or these words, from the title track:

Oh, I can’t comprehend / I can’t take it all in

Never understand / Such perfect love come

For the broken and beat / For the wounded and weak

Oh, come fall at His feet / He’s the remedy

Plus, how can you deny a worship album that features a track with the Nuge himself melting faces with his song-length solo in the background?

I had the chance to meet up with DJ Chuang yesterday. It is fun to see social networking actually build community and friendships. It was great to get to know him more and pick his brain about a number of topics. We had a nice laugh over the way bloggers might be more likely to recognize one another by their site names than by their actual names. It makes me glad that I didn’t name my site “big nerd” or “xX1004QTaZnKimchigAngstaXx” (those of you in Asian American youth ministry know what I’m talking about).

After meeting with DJ in OC, we ventured out to LA — where we met a friend at the Giant Robot store. GR is probably best known for their magazine, which has covered Asian American pop culture since 1994. Being a fan of the magazine, I was excited to visit their Los Angeles store.

Maybe I had built it up too much in my mind, but when I first entered the store I was a little bit disappointed. To me, it was a little bit too small and a little bit too crowded. We bought our daughter a little Doremon keychain and went to meet our friend at the Giant Robot restaurant, gr/eats. (which, as Jonathan Gold has written, is a great place to eat with little ones).

Being a t-shirt junkie, I went back to the GR store after dinner and — after much deliberation with my daughter — picked up this shirt (and, no, that’s not me in the photograph). It was strange, but returning for a second visit left a very different impression on me. Maybe it was the tasty french fries I had just eaten at gr/eats (shoestring potatoes, yams and bananas) but the second time, in this case, was the charm. Actually, I think it was because the store was pretty empty and I was able to interact with the people working there — we talked about different magazines, music, and they helped my daughter find just the right Uglydoll (which she has since renamed “Sleeping Beauty”).

Community is such a funny thing. We find it in the most unlikely places — even the quickly disappearing indie record store. Whether it is connecting over common interests and life pursuits, sharing a nice meal together or helping someone sift through an entirely too large pile of Uglydolls, we are made to connect with one another.