Quentin managed to make a movie funny, comically violent, a tad sexy and a whole fucking pile of cool. Again. I saw it today. Again.

How the goddamn hell am I supposed to wait for Vol. II?

Kill Bill

• Buy (or download; I’m progressive) the new Fiery Furnaces CD. As sick as I should be of male/female guitar/drum combos by now, this one is just different enough to be interesting. “Don’t Dance Her Down” has been stuck in my head for days.
• The Weakerthans write the coolest lyrics. I mean, “I must say that in the right light, you look like Shackleton…”? C’mon!
• If anyone tells you that just because you like Cragganmore and Dalwhinnie that you’ll also like Talisker, don’t believe them. Lies. Lying lies. Told by liars.

Michael Moore’s latest book comes out Tuesday. Read what he says about it here.

New Raveonettes. Well, not new, but newish. It’s greatish too.

Also, pick up anything by Blind Willie Johnson. You owe it yourself. I’m the biggest atheist who ever athed, but there’s just something about gospel music sung by a raspy blind man singing to god and playing the guitar with a jacknife…

Don’t go see it. It was a shit-ass version of Desperado. Salma Hayek was barely even in it, for chrissakes.

• Frankenixon . Depth Perception: I’d never heard of them either. They’re an indie band from, like, Wisconsin or something, but I downloaded a song called “Posers” that blew me away. It’s almost prog in a way, and sounds like it’s about to wank, but pull back from the edge just long enough to produce something fairly fresh.
• Black Rebel Motorcycle Club . Take Them On, On Your Own: It’s like part II of their debut album. Not a bad thing, obviously, but I was hoping for a little progression. Still, twice as much of a good thing is an even gooder thing.
• Spiritualized . Amazing Grace: Stripped down (well, relatively speaking) and raw, Jason Pierce seems to be taking note of the new punk/blues/garage movement and applying it to his stuff. “This Little Life Of Mine” and “Let It Rain Down” kick ass. I wonder if the arm on the front of the cd case is a challenge to critics, or just another blank canvas for his habits…

Cash and Currency
Alone with the Man in Black

“My name is Wyclef, my freestyle is homicide
I shot a man in Reno, like Johnny Cash, just to watch him die
Flee to sicily, get a call from my agency, said
They want me to do the Johnny Cash show, you gotta be kiddin’ me
Rick Rubin pick me up in a Bentley, not a El Dorado
Dressed in black, lookin’ like Zorro, Johnny Cash, chewin’ tobacco
Country’s legend fusin’ with the hop-hop
Mom said don’t play with guns, so Johnny Cash, here, you hold my glock.”
–“Delia’s Gone”, Wyclef Jean

• Intermission: 10 out of 10. Funny, aggressive, violent, surprising, mocking, original, well acted…this was the perfect movie to end the festival with. I thought it was going to be a Colin Farrell vehicle, but he’s barely recognizable in this. There’re about a dozen story lines that all tie together and cross over, about crime and marriage and loneliness and violence and greed…there’s even a high-speed chase set to Clannad. Awesome, awesome, awesome. “Fuckin’ delish”, even.

• Young Adam: 5 out of 10. Copious amounts of nudity, water, coal, sex and the colour gray. Welcome to Scotland. Not a terrible movie, but two days from now I won’t remember anything but the custard. And it’s better that you don’t ask what I’m talking about.
• Underworld: 8 out of 10. Cold. Late. Loud. Cooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooool.