Tag: blues

#REVIEW: SINNERS (2025)

On By Luther M. SilerIn movies, ReviewsLeave a comment

I don’t remember the last time I wrote a movie review. It’s been a while, I can tell you that.(*) The thing about me reviewing movies– and if you’ve been around, you’ve seen me say this before– is that I have to guard against my own enthusiasm a lot of the time. There are plenty of times when I’ve written a movie review quickly after watching the movie and in retrospect it’s been more positive than maybe it would have been if I’d waited a few days.

Last night, after watching Ryan Coogler’s new film Sinners, I commented to my wife (and posted on BlueSky, I believe) that I’d have been more positive about it had I never seen From Dusk Till Dawn. And since FDtD is easily the movie’s most obvious point of comparison, let’s go straight at this: the two movies are similar enough that you could tell me Sinners was deliberately meant as a remake and I wouldn’t be surprised at all. That might feel like a slam; it’s not, as From Dusk Till Dawn is a great movie. But that’s where I was; I enjoyed Sinners quite a bit but I felt like in large part I’d seen it before.

I’m sitting here right now, fifteen or so hours later and having slept on it, wishing I’d bought the thing instead of renting it, because I want to watch it again.

Sinners is that rarest of things: a movie that’s growing on me. I think I’m just going to assume that everything Ryan Coogler makes for the rest of his life is going to be gold; Michael B. Jordan is amazing playing two of the three leads in twins Smoke and Stack,(**) and the entire supporting cast ranges from solid to outstanding– I haven’t seen Delroy Lindo in anything recently, and I could watch that man read the phone book. I’m not familiar with Wunmi Mosaku, but her Annie is tremendous, and Hailee Steinfeld disappears into her role thoroughly enough that it took a good 2/3 of the movie before I realized who she was.

(A quick word about that: apparently there are people mad about Steinfeld being cast as this character, who says at one point that her “daddy’s daddy was half Black,” which makes her an eighth Black. The fact that Americans have a word for someone who is 1/8 Black is part and parcel of how fucked up this country is, and light-skinned Black people moving away and quietly passing into the white community has been a real thing for going on two centuries in this country. Steinfeld herself is literally an eighth Black. She is the exact race of the character she portrays. Pick up a book, Goddammit.)

Anyway, I always forget to talk about the plot so let’s do that: it’s 1930-something, somewhere in Mississippi, and Jordan’s Smoke and Stack have returned to their hometown after leaving years ago, loaded with cash and guns and planning on opening a juke joint. The first half of the movie is getting ready to open, pulling everyone else into their orbit, including the actual main character, Miles Caton’s Sammie, himself an extraordinarily talented blues musician. Sammie is Smoke and Stack’s younger cousin. They open up the joint to a successful first night, and then everything goes directly to Hell in more or less exactly the same way it did in From Dusk Till Dawn, and if you haven’t seen FDtD and don’t know the twist (although they haven’t done much to hide it) I’m not going to go any further than that.

Other stuff: everyone’s praised the music, for good reason, although Buddy Guy’s 88-year-old voice coming out of Sammie’s mouth is a little odd. Guy actually shows up in person in a stinger at the end of the movie, so don’t turn it off when the credits roll, although you probably won’t be in enough of a hurry to turn it off that you’ll miss it. The movie is almost a musical but not quite. There are numbers, but they make more sense in context than, say, Alexander Hamilton randomly bursting into song.

(Okay, yeah, it’s a musical, but it’s not the type of musical that people who don’t like musicals should avoid. Just fuckin’ trust me, please, plus blues musicals are amazing, as it turns out.)

So, yeah. Two thumbs up. Check it out. But it’s only five bucks more to buy it from Amazon Prime than to rent it, so buy it; you’ll want to watch it again.

(*) It was over a year ago, and ludicrously enough, it was Abigail, which I also compared to From Dusk Till Dawn.

(**) I would not have called myself an MBJ hater, but I’ve never quite gotten the hype about the guy? I mean, he’s good, but he’s got the reputation of the second coming of Denzel Washington or something, and I haven’t seen that from him yet. Okay, y’all. I get it now. Plus, not for nothin, he’s insanely sexy in this movie. Do what you want with that information.

#REVIEW: Orgy of the Damned, by Slash

On By Luther M. SilerIn Music, ReviewsLeave a comment

I commented to my wife last night, on the eve of the release of Slash’s Orgy of the Damned, that I was super psyched about the album coming out, and I felt kind of odd about it. She asked why, as she does, and I pointed out that he’s had quite a few solo albums since his Guns ‘n’ Roses and Velvet Revolver years (this is number six, as it turns out) and as I own exactly none of them I couldn’t explain why I was so excited about this one in particular. Nonetheless, I’d found out it was coming out a couple of months ago and had been checking on a regular basis since then to see if it had magically come out early.

I genuinely didn’t remember what had gotten me so hyped about it. Then it came out this morning, and I bought and downloaded it immediately. As it turns out, Billie Eilish also has a new album out today, also downloaded immediately, and I chose (poorly, as it turns out, because Billie’s music doesn’t really lend itself to highway driving in my car) to listen to the Eilish album on the way to work. I queued up the Slash album on the way home, and the first song hit.

Oh.

Oh.

Slash– yes, Guns ‘n’ Roses Slash, Velvet Revolver Slash, sexy faceless top-hat big-hair yes-that-Slash, fucking Slash Slash, released a blues album.

Motherfucker.

Yeah, that’s why the fuck I was excited, because some of you with similar tastes as mine are already flailing around and happydancing and spending money, and how I managed to discover that Slash had a blues album coming out and then forgot it was a blues album while still somehow intensely anticipating its release anyway is an open question,(*) but now that it’s here I might actually listen to it more than Dark Matter this week. I mean, maybe not, but it’ll at least come close.

As far as I know the album is entirely covers, mostly of blues standards, although Chris Robinson of the Black Crowes does an absolutely stunning fucking version of Steppenwolf’s The Pusher, which is definitely bluesy as hell but maybe isn’t quite a standard. But he does Hoochie Coochie Man with Billy F. Gibbons, and Born Under a Bad Sign with Paul Rodgers, and Papa Was a Rolling Stone and Stormy Monday, and did you know Iggy Pop was, if not actually still alive, at least still recording music from beyond the grave? Because he does a version of Awful Dream that probably doesn’t live up to Lightnin’ Hopkins but is definitely sung by a corpse while Slash is playing guitar.

Okay, every track’s not amazing. But then there’s Key to the Highway, sung by someone just named Dorothy, who I need to know more about, and Demi Lovato is on here for some reason? And if you haven’t gone out and bought this yet, I’m probably not going to talk you into it, but I really need to go back and check out the rest of Slash’s solo releases, because he truly is one of the most amazing guitarists alive and this album is an absolute delight and there’s no reason to think the rest of his solo work isn’t similarly amazing. Go get it.

(*) It is possible that the fact that the thing is called Orgy of the Damned might have something to do with it, as there are approximately 92087346181 titles available in the English language that are going to immediately scan as more blues-adjacent than “Orgy of the Damned.”

In which don’t listen to this

On By Luther M. SilerIn MusicLeave a comment

I got no useful sleep last night. There were probably a few hours of technical unconsciousness in there somewhere, but for no clear reason there was no rest of any kind, and I’ve been dragging ass all day long.

I got involved in a conversation about obscenity and sexuality in music today (not in class,) and it reminded me that Lucille Bogan exists, and I doubt many of you have heard of her. If you think that anything new is going on right now with regard to sexuality and “profanity” and music … well, you might want to give this a listen.

The 10 Album Challenge

On By Luther M. SilerIn MusicLeave a comment

I just finished this the other day, doing it slightly wrong (my 10 albums was 15 albums, and this post will add at least two more) and I figured I’d at least post the albums I chose here, in no particular order beyond the first one:

This is the most important one, and it should probably be its own post, as virtually no one I met beyond high school would ever have met me had I never listened to this album. This is the single most important piece of music I’ve ever listened to, period.

The soundtrack to my junior year of high school.

I really could have chosen any of Pearl Jam’s first three albums and it would have been fine.

Similarly, there are about three Public Enemy albums I could have picked.

The part of my brain that wasn’t marinating itself in hiphop during high school was marinating itself in reggae.

Speaking of marinating in hiphop, this was either the first or the second hiphop album I ever bought, and it had much more of a long-term impact than the other, which would have been the Fat Boys.

The other soundtrack to my senior year of high school, and the album that was being played at incredibly unsafe volume during all sorts of high-speed, late-night drives in the boonies in southern Indiana during college.

I got very heavily into blues music in college; there are a half-dozen BB King albums I could have picked.

One of only two Dave Matthews Band albums I really like, this one got me through my sophomore year of college. Will never forget having this on in the background about three days after it came out while a friend and I were hanging out and her remarking after a few minutes, incredulous, “You’ve memorized it already?”

Speaking of memorization: another big car album, and an album that we were listening to during an unforgettable game of euchre in high school, where the only words spoken by anyone at the table other than loudly singing along were to claim the trump suit. Whistling in the Dark was fucking epic.

I used to actually meditate to a couple of the songs on this album.

Listening to this one right now. Another case where I could have chosen any of several albums.

The other utterly unforgettable album from my blues period. Things Gonna Change is a perfect song.

The soundtrack to my senior year of high school.

And, closing in on 30 years after I first bought it, an album I still listen to on the first really warm day of every year. It’s not spring until I’ve listened to No One Can Do It Better, preferably in the car.

8:17 PM, Monday May 11: 1,346,723 confirmed cases and 80,342 deaths, which represents a remarkable slowdown over the last couple of days, and the smallest two-day total in months, which I’m afraid is going to end up having something to do with people not reporting much over Mother’s Day. We’ll see how tomorrow and Wednesday go.

Rest in peace

On By Luther M. SilerIn Music2 Comments

…knew it was coming, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

I don’t even think I have anything to say. I’m just gonna spend an hour or so before my wife and kid get home listening to music.

On what happened to my money

On By Luther M. SilerIn Music3 Comments

music-thinkingI have purchased what seems like a considerable amount of music over the summer.  I feel like this list says something about me (other than “this sucker still pays for music,”) but I’m not exactly sure what:

  • Matisyahu, Akeda
  • Murs and ¡Mayday!, Mursday
  • Mika, The Boy Who Knew Too Much and Life in Cartoon Motion
  • YG, My Krazy Life
  • 3rd Bass, Derelicts of Dialect
  • Macy Gray, Covered
  • Phish, Fuego
  • Nappy Roots, The Pursuit of Nappyness
  • Tom Waits, Mule Variations
  • Weird Al Yankovic, Mandatory Fun
  • Lou Reed, Transformer
  • Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, Hypnotic Eye

Toss in half-a-dozen or so individual tracks, too.

In case you’re wondering, there’s a Guardians of the Galaxy review coming, but probably not today.  I need to let this one roll around in my head a bit; the review’s gonna be more mixed than I wanted it to be but the parts I liked I liked a lot.

What the hell was that?: I “review” Tom Waits

On By Luther M. SilerIn Music, Reviews19 Comments

mulevariationsBe honest.  No Googling.  How many of you know who Tom Waits is, beyond a vague association with music or acting?  And if you know who he is at all, what kind of musician do you think he is?  (These are honest questions; feel free to answer in comments, even if the answer is “I’ve never heard of him” or “You’re an idiot for never having heard of him.”)

The wife and I have been marathoning Season 2 of Orange is the New Black, and for only the second time the closing musical number of a show has gotten me to spend money on music.  (The first was an episode of Defiance that closed with Civil Twilight’s amazing cover of Nirvana’s Come As You Are.  The weirdest thing that’s ever led to me spending money on music was hearing Jeffrey Gaines’ cover of In Your Eyes over the in-store sound system in a Chipotle and insisting that the manager tell me what the hell they were playing.)

Anyway.  Right.  So the seventh or eighth episode of OitNB Season Two ends with a substantial portion of Waits’ Come On Up to the House playing.  It’s an awesome freaking song, and since I was in an expansive mood (and I love new music) I downloaded the entire album it was on, on the spot.  I had heard of Waits, but mostly because he was awesome in Mystery Men, one of the most underrated movies ever.  I had a vague idea that he was a bluesman; Come On Up to the House is certainly bluesy.

Guys, I’ve listened to Mule Variations three goddamn times now.  Tom Waits is either the greatest musician of all time or an assault on the very concept of music itself.  I don’t know which.

First things first: the damn album is called Mule Variations, for fuck’s sake.  Do mules vary?  I don’t know.  I think mules are pretty much just mules.  It’s a clue, though, as to how the album is going to go; he took two words that don’t belong together and slapped them together to make a word-salad phrase that, grammatically at least, ought to make sense but doesn’t.  I listened to the first half of this album on the way home from OtherJob and I honestly don’t know how the hell I made it home because I was so confused.

You’ve seen Belushi’s impression of Joe Cocker, right?  Here, just in case the answer was no:

(Crap, it won’t embed right, and I can’t find it on YouTube.  Click.)

Okay.  Now imagine what it would be like if Joe Cocker did an impression of John Belushi doing an impression of Joe Cocker.

That’s what Tom Waits sounds like.  His voice is like nothing I’ve ever heard; he sounds like he’s just growling for half of the songs and it’s rarely immediately clear what the hell he’s saying.  You want to do a credible Tom Waits impression?  Gargle.  I’m fucking serious.  And it’s probably better if you’re gargling bourbon instead of water.  Although I feel like that has at least a chance of killing you so you probably shouldn’t do it.  It’s as if Leonard Cohen and Junior Kimbrough beat each other to death and somebody stitched a zombie singer together with the parts that still sorta worked right, soaked it in brine, and animated it, only then the zombie got cancer of the vocal cords. I’ve never heard anything like it.

Get used to that sentence.

The production on the album is the dirtiest nastiest filthiest stuff I’ve ever heard, and I think I mean that as a compliment.  There’s at least one track where the vocals and the music simply do not match at all.  Like there were two different producers completely, and they weren’t allowed to talk to each other.  Track 8 is called What’s He Building In There?. It’s a spoken-word track.  Imagine that Pink Floyd vomited on Allan Ginsberg.  Other tracks are called– I am not making this up– Eyeball Kid and Filipino Box Spring Hog, which makes absolutely no goddamned sense at all.  Filipino Box Spring Hog may actually involve a DJ.

There is a track where I’m pretty sure a string breaks on someone’s guitar partway through, and they just kept going and left it in.  On another, there’s a loud thump at one point, like someone in the studio dropped a heavy box. They left it in.

I have never heard anything like this.

I don’t know what the hell any of this shit is.

Go download it.  

On the literal death of the blues

On By Luther M. SilerIn Cooking, MusicLeave a comment

bobby-blue-bland

Bobby “Blue” Bland died a couple of days ago.  He was 83.

I’ve written this post before; a bunch of times, in fact.  I wrote it when John Lee Hooker died in 2001.  When Ray Charles died in 2004.  Robert Lockwood in 2006.  Koko Taylor in 2009.  Etta James, last year.  I’d have written it when Junior Wells died in 1998 if I’d had a blog at the time.  I’ve loved blues music for a long time but it’s getting to the point where everyone who ever mattered in the genre is dead.  BB King is still touring; he’s 87 goddamn years old and the last time I saw him will be the last time I ever see him.  He’ll die on stage one day.  Taj Mahal is 71.  James Cotton (who, Wikipedia tells me, is Bland’s half-brother, and they only just found out about it) is 77.  Buddy Guy is 76.  Blues musicians live a long goddamn time, apparently, but surely most of them will be gone within ten years or so.

I was about to mention Billy Branch as one of the few greats who is still relatively young and then I looked him up.  He’s 61.  Sigh.  Bonnie Raitt’s only 63.  Comparatively they’re young’uns.

I don’t know that I have a lot to say about him, actually, other than I’m tired of RIP posts about blues musicians.  I know that there are younger musicians out there who call themselves blues singers but it’s not the same at all.  I haven’t discovered a “new” blues singer who was worth the title in probably fifteen years.

Do yourself a favor.  Even if you’re not into the blues all that much, track down the two live concerts that Bobby and BB King did together in 1974 and 1976.  The albums are still out there– hell, you can probably download them from Amazon (yep:  here and here) and they’re two of the greatest live concerts I’ve ever heard.  There’s a bit at the end of Together Again… Live where they literally pull a woman named Viola out of the crowd to sing The Thrill is Gone with them and she turns out to be a good enough singer to easily share the stage with the two of them; it’s brilliant.  Together for the First Time has a fourteen-minute medley piece where the two of them are just strumming along and singing bits of different songs, ad-libbing.  I’m listening to it right now. It’s wonderful.  You should check it out.

IMG_0175I made this yesterday, from a recipe on Facebook.  Looks crap, don’t it?  It was actually pretty good: basically you just boil a couple/three chicken breasts (we used three) until they’re cooked through, open up a couple of cans of crescent rolls, and then shred the chicken and stuff a spoon’s worth or so into each of the crescent rolls.  Put ’em into a glass pan and bake them at 350 for about five minutes (I gave it seven; my oven is perenially slower than what recipes call for), just long enough for the rolls to get a little crispy but not enough to have them completely cooked.

Now, since we did three chicken breasts, I had a fair amount of chicken left over.  I put some curry powder on the rest of the chicken (a few shakes; I didn’t measure it) and mixed it in with the two cans of cream of chicken soup that the recipe actually called for.  The whole mess goes on top of the crescent rolls and then back in the oven for another ten minutes or so.  After that, a cup of shredded cheese on top and another ten minutes, then out of the oven and serve.  There’s really no way to make it look like anything other than horror-glop that I’m aware of, but I was surprised at how everything came together– I would have thought that twenty minutes under the cream of chicken soup would reduce the crescent rolls to a soggy mess, but they retained their crispiness and buttery flavor perfectly.

The next time I do this, I think instead of the curry powder (which, btw, wasn’t in the original recipe) I’ll put some taco seasoning in with the chicken and then use a Mexican cheese mix instead of cheddar cheese.  That ought to come out tasting something like crescent roll enchiladas, which sounds pretty damn good.  I had the leftovers for breakfast this morning and threw some sour cream on top just to see what it was like; it worked out pretty nicely.  I can imagine a world where some salsa works, too.  It wouldn’t help with the gloppiness but at least it would add a color that isn’t beige and yellow.

It’s gonna storm all day today.  Good day to listen to the blues.