WALL*E (2008)

I will start by letting you all know how excited I was for this movie. As a devoted PIXAR fan, this looked like it would be their most wondrous success. I watched the amazing trailer many times.

I had always loved PIXAR in the form of the Toy Story movies, Monsters, Inc., and the rest of their terrific animated adventures, but something really clicked with me when I saw Ratatouille. I absolutely loved it and considered it their finest work to date. It was so feel-good and enthralling for kids, yet it felt more like a film for adults than ever before. It seemed to be a step up, in both narrative, the willingness to take risks (having a rat for a main character is a bit strange for kid’s movie, and the plot was a lot less cut and dry than their previous films), not to mention the photo-realistic computer animation.

WALL*E is one of those movies that you see and love, but the more you think you about it, days later, you just become obsessed with how good it is. With this new movie, I believe PIXAR has fully transcended themselves. They have totally enhanced the reputation that they have. They no longer make kid’s animation films. They make FILMS. How they managed to take such a goofy and untraditional concept and make it so enjoyable for pretty much anybody who would walk into a theater is really a special talent. It’s going to take me a while to touch up on everything that is fantastic about this movie.

The first thing I will mention is the visual splendor. This is by far the most jaw-dropping computer animation available to see, anywhere, from the crumbling, barren, rocky plains of the ruined Earth, to the odd and futuristic AXIOM spaceship, where now brain-dead and fat humans live while the Earth is returned to an inhabitable state. There were times in the movie where I couldn’t even believe certain parts were not real. It’s truly amazing, and not to mention the way EVE and WALL*E move. To the viewer, they are not CGI robots, they are robots, and you completely forget that you’re watching animation. It makes me really excited watching this to imagine what the heck these guys are gonna be doing in ten years with our technological advances. The incredible visuals make WALL*E something you really need to see in theaters to fully enjoy. Watching it for the first time even at home on DVD will not do it justice, because the way the film looks and moves has always been such an important storytelling component with PIXAR, and it’s no different here.

Speaking of storytelling, you probably already know that a lot of the film is silent. WALL*E and EVE can say their names and make curious beeps, and a bit more dialogue opens up the last third of the movie, but why this movie feels so different than other PIXARs is because of the way the tale is told. This is pure emotion. The first twenty minutes of the film take place on Earth, and we learn so much about WALL*E’s personality, as well as his attachment to EVE, just by watching what happens without any dialogue to guide us. The fact that this expressionistic method was chosen for such a mainstream family film and works so well is not only stunning, but revolutionary. WALL*E is funny, cute, and relatable. He has a warehouse of odd collectibles, he bumps into things. There’s one scene on the AXIOM where he wakes up and stumbles around, struggling to put on his treadmill shoes for another tiring day. It’s so human, and PIXAR proves that you don’t need to tell the audience, you need to show them to be really successful in getting your vision across, and, although it has always been apparent in previous PIXAR installments, it is the driving force in this one.

The love story between WALL*E and EVE is charming, relatable, silly, tragic, and adorable all at the same time, and it is a joy to watch their adventure through pantomime. The music sets the stage well, as some really interesting choices are made, especially the guitar groove used to power the adventure scenes in the AXIOM. There is tons of patented PIXAR attention to detail, such as WALL*E having a familiar toy in his warehouse of stuff, his rebooting noise (funny when taken into context that the lead designer for the movie works at Apple), his windshield wipers to dry away tears. Everything here is so proud and fun and weird and never loses its “directive.” It’s confident as hell and it’s impossible not to like. There is one scene that happens about halfway through the film in outer space between WALL*E and EVE that counts as one of the most touching scenes between ANY couple in any movie I’ve seen. PIXAR does what they do best: make you forget you’re watching robots, just as they have made us forget we’re watching toys and monsters and fish and rats in the past.

Some people have the minor complaint that the shift in tone about halfway into the movie (when we get to the AXIOM and there is a bit more dialogue and the sub-plot between the futuristic humans is introduced) loses just a small bit of the charm of the first half, despite still being good. I’ve heard that the humans are not really necessary to the story between the two robots. I’m going to completely disagree and say that, as wonderful as it was to watch PIXAR’s silent film skills take hold, there needed to be that transcendence and that plot. We can’t forget that this has to be accessible to kids and that something does need to happen in the movie that WALL*E and EVE can go through together to bring them closer. I think it was a great decision. The 2001: A Space Odyssey influence is fantastically done, and I think the humans just offer more adventure to the love story, which, in my eyes, never loses its grip on the viewer.

I have also heard people say the message is too heavy-handed. People become fat and lazy in the future, if we don’t clean after ourselves the Earth will become uninhabitable, etc. I don’t really see this, despite it being a common complaint. It’s never a bad thing to remind people to be careful with our planet, and I don’t think it remotely outshines the main components of the film, WALL*E and EVE. I also think the real message with humans is realizing their potential to be active, not just to be active. Things like “we have a pool?” and two featured humans that WALL*E meets hit it off talking to each other after being brain dead for so long, and the most prominent human in the movie, the ship’s captain, realizing what must be done. I think it’s a good message because it’s more about the idea that we are capable of being more aware and opening our eyes and being active for what we want. It was a really nice sub-plot and I liked that WALL*E, a robot, ironically is more human than the humans for a good while.

The film moves so elegantly. The entire thing is like a dance, with robots buzzing and flying and beeping, and lumbering fat humans and gorgeous colorful animation. It is a total treasure, and the best PIXAR yet. They manage to out-do themselves every time, and they have set the bar for themselves to continue to wow audiences, young and old.

In Ratatouille, they taught children about accepting change, appreciating culture, and the splendor of great food. In WALL*E, they teach children to appreciate a well-made film, and that is a downright heroic thing.

Hail PIXAR.

SIGUR ROS – “Með Suð Í Eyrum Við Spilum Endalaust” (2008)

( ) was darker, slower, and more minimalist. Takk… was more upbeat and positive. Meo Suo is subtley different all the same. Jonsi does more with his vocals on this record; in fact, it showcases them more than any other Sigur Ros album. From the playful vocalizing in the album opener, “Gobbledigook,” to the nine minutes of what is basically a vocal solo with instrument buildup on “Ara Batur,” I would say Jonsi is at his best on this record, and it’s noticeable within the first four tracks, which are quite wonderful and a teaser of things to come for future records. “Suo y Eyrum” is a highlight, as it marks the best song on the album at straddling the old and new sound, with a great drumbeat buildup.

The percussion is also stepped up in terms of approach, becoming more chant-like (may I be the zillionth person to refer to an Animal Collective sound?) and poppy. Although I think it works well in shifting the band’s sound, it, unfortunately, doesn’t change too much throughout the record throughout the more quickly-paced tracks.

My biggest complaint about this new album is that it seems confused. I have mentioned the change in sound for the band, with most of the songs being no longer than five or six minutes and they’re more focused on percussion and vocals than ever before. But it seems like while you’re getting used to the new sound, halfway into the record, you revert back to familiar territory. It’s like they said, “eh, nevermind, let’s just nix the new direction.” Perhaps it was the band’s intention to start off fast and bright and finish slow and lonely. It’s not that the songs aren’t good, because they certainly are. I always enjoy Sigur Ros’ music. It’s just that this album feels like it doesn’t match up to their other big three releases.

Sigur Ros does pull off the different-sounding songs well, but the problem is that they’re Sigur Ros, and because their sound is so distinctive around the world (Jonsi’s vocals and their sweeping buildups), it doesn’t feel drastic. It just feels like I’d rather be hearing the old approach.

Another problem is that they may change the mood of the album a bit, but they still do the same thing instrumentally. Their build-ups are the same, and you’ll notice that when you listen to the one big epic song on the record, “Festival,” that it’s good, but too familiar. You’re probably noticing a pattern with this review. This album is very good because I feel like Sigur Ros makes honest, do-no-wrong, gorgeous music. But the album shifts too much with “hey, check it out, sounds different right? But we’re still the same old band!” It’s not as cohesive to me.

I hope it grows on me as I listen, and I’m probably spoiled because, let’s face it, they’ll likely never put out something as good as Agaetis Byrjun or ( ) again. But when I’m listening to a new Sigur Ros album and thinking, “why listen to this when I could just listen to their other better albums,” it’s not exactly what a new album should strive to be. I would have preferred that they either completely experimented with their sound or released a familiar album entirely. I’m a little put off by the tease in both directions. This album marks potential, but not the mastery of the others. There are some typical glorious high points in the record, but I feel like instead of dominating the listener with brilliant presence, it’s a bit of a feeble attempt at mixing things up that could have been more realized.

KOENJI HYAKKEI – “One Hundred Sights of Koenji” (2008)

Long story short, Tatsuya Yoshida is one of my favorite drummers, and Koenjihyakkei one of my favorite bands. I’ve been obsessed with their release “Viva Koenji!” for awhile now, and now they follow it up by re-issuing their debut album, with the drums re-recorded and the whole thing re-mixed.

How I love this band. It’s hard to describe the way I listen to them. It manages to be technically insane, very intentional in its style, and catchy all in one. The first track, “Ioss,” contains shouting of “IOSS! IOSS! IOSS!” with the instruments speaking them in rhythm. My favorite song on the album is probably “Molavena,” if not just because of the awesome chorus and the drumming insanity. The album’s lengthiest track, “Avedumma,” is really fun and fast-paced and dominated by keyboards, and the final song on the album has a great bending bass line underneath the crazy drumming and vocals.

If you are familiar with the band, you will be treading similar territory. Japanese Zeuhl-flavored vocals, manic drums, aggressive chanting, mind-bending song structure, and plenty of hooks. If you’re not familiar with them and wish to dabble into some Japanese music, I can’t really think of many better places to start.

These guys are doing a whole lot for heavy progressive music, and this album is another huge tablespoon of rad. Ain’t that something?

Hail Yoshida.

GUAPO – “Elixirs” (2008)

I first heard about Guapo by following bands on the Ipecac label. After releasing two quite fantastic records of dense orchestrated progressive pieces, they have returned, after three years, with Elixirs.

This release has gone well under the radar, despite being a very interesting and unique record. The first track, “The Jeweled Turtle,” moves as such a turtle; slowly lumbering for thirteen minutes. But, as it grows closer and more instruments are added to the fray, the worry grows. It’s a very melancholy piece, and it’s one of the best tracks on the album.

My favorite track is probably number two, “Arthur, Elsie, and Frances.” It begins sounding like the more aggressive Guapo from earlier records, very percussion-heavy and much more quick than the first song. At about the four-minute mark, it takes on a cool keyboard and bass drive, with jazzy drums. When this movement hits its peak, it stops completely, and we get a lone acoustic guitar, which leads into, possibly, the coolest few minutes on the record. It reminds me of Pink Floyd. Very trippy and psychedelic, led by keyboards that circle a longing guitar line. It fades out as the listener does, in a gust of wind.

Guapo always seem to have the same sort of aura around its composition, but still manage to surprise and delve into different styles of music for brief periods of time. The third track opens with something that could be a soundtrack for a television show, led by soft drums and hesitant piano. Eventually, other instruments swirl in, and soon after, we even get vocals, which are reminiscent of Zeuhl. This is a very driving piece and feels wonderful to listen to, and marks a pleasant change in sound for the band.

You’ll hear plenty of piano, psychedelic synth, brooding kraut-style drums, and songs that move very precisely. Guapo is one of the more interesting progressive rock bands around, and this album should not go unnoticed.

PERSONA – Bergman (1966)

This is what it feels like to uncover an artist who has a deep impact on your life. I wish it had been earlier, but ideas are timeless, and I am slowly discovering those of Ingmar Bergman. With Persona, he is officially one of my three favorite directors, along with Alejandro Jodorowsky and Paul Thomas Anderson.

The introduction to this film took all of my preconceptions about what it would be like and stepped on them. I had no idea that Bergman could be as avant-garde as such. Bergman has stated how this was the film he went “the furthest” with, and I can understand what he means. This is an incredibly psychologically penetrating movie. It is about two women; one, a famous actress who chooses not to speak, and the other the nurse assigned to care for her.

There are so many things addressed about the human psyche that are, as always with Bergman, refreshing and original. As nurse Alma interacts with actress Elisabet, it is, at first, about herself. She tells Elisabet of her life and several important events within it. But, because Alma garners no response from Elisabet, she quickly becomes frustrated. I had been talking with a friend recently about how intriguing it is that the social behavior of doing absolutely nothing could have such an effect on others around, and Bergman has Alma fall into this kind of reaction. But when Alma discovers a letter Elisabet has written to her doctor, explaining how he she enjoys listening to and studying Alma, as well as unleashing the personal stories Alma had told her, the movie really sets into motion.

It’s difficult to be cohesive with my thoughts on this movie as a whole, because there is so much to take from it. I was tearing up in multiple instances watching this, only because it is such a beautiful moving picture to behold. Every shot is so careful and emotional. There are images that stick with the viewer long after they have moved on, such as Elisabeta laying in bed, devastated, and looking up, thoughtfully, as the camera focuses on her face for what seems like an eternity. Just as you can hardly bear the pure emotion on the screen, she flips over and buries her head in hand and shadows. Or, a little boy, slowly sliding his hands across a giant picture of a woman’s blurred face. Or a shot that brings the influence of German expressionism, with a spiked gate traveling diagonally down the screen in front of the nursing home. Bergman does so much to the senses without any dialogue at all, so it’s hard to imagine how he is also so poignant and profound with the conversations between his actors.

There are plenty of wonderful thoughts about human behavior here. Alma questions the motives of one who chooses to be silent and unreceptive, and the fallacy of those who are two different people; the person by his or herself, and the person around other people. This reaches out to me, as I have trouble with consistent behavior, as well, choosing to adapt to certain people and situations, rather than be myself, and only myself, at all times.

There are interesting shots all throughout Persona. I noticed there is a focus on legs, and I also noticed the way both main characters hide their faces in shadow when crying. And, of course, when the screen quite literally rips in half over Alma’s face and crumples. I loved one transition shot that went from the veins in a human eye to looking at similarly-shaped drapes. Bibi Andersson and Liv Ullmann are both incredible in this, as they have quite opposite roles, but always spend time onscreen. Andersson is the enigmatic and broken Alma, while Ullmann is the famous actress who hides shame by not speaking, and simply reacting with her face. Probably the most fascinating scene, for me, was near the end, when Alma tells Elisabet the sequence of events that led the actress to her coldness. At first, we hear Alma explain to Elisabet while the camera focuses on Elisabet, looking vulnerable and despairing, turning her head when soft spots are hit during the story. Immediately after the story finishes, we start over and see the exact same scene, but this time, looking at Alma read the letter and reading her emotions as she goes through it. I thought it was a brilliant way to examine both characters.

A lot of left open for interpretation here. Some people believe that Elisabet and Alma are the two parts of the same person. This would explain why Alma knew exactly the situation Elisabet was in quite well, and I would not be opposed to that reasoning. But whether or not they are the same person, the important thing about the two characters are their behavior toward the other.

Bergman pulls out all the stops for Persona. It is halfway avant-garde imagery and exploration and halfway intimate and telling conversation between two emotionally flawed persons. There is so much in this film that has gone to influence other directors, and I am now beginning to realize how much I have been missing with Ingmar Bergman. I feel like he does not just give to cinema, but to humans in general. His ideas about humanity are important and relatable, and he has this gift of being able to unmask these secrets we hide as people through both conventional and unconventional means, through both sharp abstraction and warm invitation. The best artists do not strive to be anything; they just are. And Bergman’s romantic style and ability to be equally scary and comforting in his films without deterring from the theme is glorious.

I feel like this is the way movies about people should be made. I would be hard-pressed to find a director who celebrates and questions humanity with such emotion and skill as Bergman, and Persona is now, unsurprisingly, one of my favorite films.

THE PLASTIC PEOPLE OF THE UNIVERSE – “The Plastic People of the Universe” (1997)

I had heard about these guys a bit ago and was hoping to hear one of their early recordings that have been so revered. I found out that this self-titled effort was actually recorded upon a 1997 reuniting of the band that had been broken up since 1988, and had suffered many lineup changes since its first incarnation in the late-60’s.

I should have known that it didn’t matter when this album was released, because it’s extremely engrossing either way. The album gives you a theme of repetition quite apparently, as the first song, after an introduction of off-kilter horns, brings you forcefully into a downward spiral march of bass and drums, completed with violins and morose vocals that seem to go wherever they may please, working from straight chanting to nonsense to actual singing.

The second track picks up where the first left off, with a similar backbeat of bass and drums over strings and vocals, but the vocals seem much more lively in this one, and makes for quite a brilliant subtle change in the direction of the album. It reminds me of early Magma vocalizing, with plenty of screaming and chanting.

What’s remarkable about this album is how well it sticks to its musical theme while also keeping the listener interested in the small changes that are made throughout. You’ll hear different instruments take center stage in pockets of avant-garde in the middle of songs, you’ll hear tempo changes, especially welcome in the fourth and fifth tracks, which slow everything down for fourteen minutes and allow some zoning out to take place.

The final track, Osip, is the highlight of the record for me, and that’s because it’s, essentially, a combination of all of the best elements of the album. It starts with vocals in the forefront, over rather melancholy string and bass pulsing, until it really picks up, with the drums laying down some great krautrock style playing, while the bass meanders and the saxaphone is playing stiffly. All of this leads into a beautiful climax, where the band shows the most life as it does in the entirety of the record, a hypnotic jam with all instruments bringing everything out. The album finishes quite perfectly, as it slows to a gloomy ambient crawl, cymbals splashing and vocals fading in and out with helpless cries, with the mood set by a melodic drone from the saxophone and bass, until it melts into nothing.

I love that all of the instruments play together but make these references here and there to individuality among the death march of a theme. This is music with a lot of pain involved, and it’s done in such a way that is not extremist nor gimmicky. It feels very real.

BLACK MOTH SUPER RAINBOW – “Dandelion Bubblegum” (2007)

When I first listened to this record, I figured these guys were just a great 60’s psychedelic rock band. As it turns out after research, they’re just a great throwback band that exists today.

The album cover should say enough about the direction this band likes to travel, as it rains down every color of the rainbow, over a face that blows bubblegum with big lips. The album takes on early-sounding psychedelic rock by using older instruments, including a voice synthesizer. The result is catchy and flowery rhythms, slow and driving drums, and plenty of wispy electronic vocals.

“Rollerdisco” is a highlight, with a really nice funk groove powering a descending keyboard line. “Melt Me” seems like the band at its heaviest, with soaring synthesizer and a dense bass-line. To be honest, I find this sound to be really interesting. Even though the goal is to recreate the psychedelic grooves of the 60’s, I still think it’s not only a success, but an extension of the genre, as a lot of things about the music are unique. There’s not much guitar, and I quite enjoy hearing the synth and the keyboards dominate, and the band transitions into different styles pretty well (the funk-sound mentioned above, the repetitious computer groove of “Lollipopsichord,” among others) to keep it interesting.

It’s a very simple and successful record, but it’s also easy to get lost in the band’s feel-good trip.

And, no, I didn’t name this website Rainbow Moth strictly because of this group.

CRO-MAGNON – “Orgasm” (1969)

You may or may not know my recent obsession with tracing back obscure rock groups. After talking with somebody about Amon Duul II’s awesomeness, I was told to listen to this album by Cro-Magnon. I’d never heard of them, and they apparently only have this release.

Man, what a lost gem this is! It sounds like Disco Volante, but in 1969, and with a better theme. The first song is some sort of noisy screaming chant with the melody supplied by bagpipes and rustling wind, while drums bang away, reminiscent of something in Crash Worship’s repertoire. It’s pretty hard not to smile when I’m listening to this thing. “Ritual Feast of the Libido” sounds like an early Boredoms track, with its screaming, off-kilter, nonsensical vocals. “Fantasy” is a high point, containing everything from a bebop introduction to cartoon music to noise. And then there’s the 10-minute dark ambient tapestry, “Toth, Scribe 1.” The whole thing sounds like a hypnotic genre-bending marching record.

And this is 1969 we’re talking!

I’m thoroughly impressed. There’s just the right balance of comedy and musical experimentation here, and if you’re looking for a great early avant-garde recording, try your hand at Orgasm.

TIM HECKER – “Atlas” (2007; 10-inch EP)

I wish Hecker toured more. I saw him once a few years ago when he opened for Isis, and he absolutely destroyed the audience with gorgeous soundscapes. I felt like I was in a glorious train crash. The entire floor was shaking, and I was whisked into his world. Since then, he’s become one of my absolute favorite soundscape artists.

Following up his amazing 2006 release Harmony in Ultraviolet, this EP contains two songs that are roughly ten minutes each in length.

The first, “Atlas One,” uses a lot of different sounds to create a plowing howl of bright lights and crashes of melodies. There really is a lot going on as the piece builds, and near the end, it dissipates, only to come back in a raged muzzle of static. The key elements of the piece still remain, but it almost sounds like it’s been injured, crying until it meets its end.

The second track starts out quite high-pitched for a Hecker drone, but then settles its way into familiar Silent Hill-like territory. It’s much cleaner than the first track, and is plenty meditative, until it, too, dissipates, before coming back, but this time it doesn’t sound muffled; it has transformed into something a bit more organic, and it shines proudly before billowing out once again.

Another gorgeous release from Hecker, and with new word that he’s working on a new full-length, I couldn’t be more excited for what he does next.

EVERYBODY – “None of This Music is Real” (2008)

Carson McWhirter might be the most undiscovered genius in all of music right now, despite playing bass in Hella, who reign at the top of innovative rock musicality.

Years in the making, Carson finally released his solo record under Lost Lamp Records. Since it’s been released, I’ve listened to it pretty much every day.

It’s less of a technical freakout than I expected, but it’s a very good thing, because it’s so tasteful. Carson’s guitarwork is really original in that it seems so accessible, but he has this clunkiness and these waves of still-sounding vocals that make it more than what meets the ears. It borders on the lines of folk music, with Carson’s voice and acoustic guitar being the focus of most of the songs. There is the Middle Eastern-inspired “Tawatache,” in which a sitar is front and center of the rhythm. This same track comes a bit out of left field, but it also adds a nice instrumental variety.

The standout song to me is “All Time Offer.” It feels so good to listen to, and the classical-sounding acoustic guitar sounds amazing with the bass and piano delivering underneath, all with slow and calm vocals setting the atmosphere. The track before it, “Seeing is Believing,” is also one of my favorites. It’s very simple, but seems to somehow grow a lot in three minutes.

There is definitely a pervading theme, for me, of stillness and loneliness throughout the record, but also a great semblance of life in the way the vocals and guitar carry everything in their waves of uneven tempos and soundscape. Everything is consistently wonderful and I really hope it gets McWhirter some recognition, as he deserves every bit of it. This is easily one of the best records in recent memory.