In spirit of all the listings that appear around this time of peoples favorite things of this ending year, I thought I'd join in with my top picks of this years finest treats for our eyes and ears. So here it is. The best 2008 had to offer:
Viewing:
1. "There Will Be Blood" came out early in the year and really set the bar on fire. P.T. Anderson delivers his best work to date in this adaptation of Upton Sinclair's novel "Oil!". Stunning cinematography, a haunting soundtrack and flawless performances from everyone involved. Daniel Day-Lewis is a study of monumental acting and this role will surely stand as his career high. It's a remarkable performance. The film is an instant classic and one of the most impressive pieces of cinema I have ever seen. Hands down, the best picture of the year.
2. "The Dark Knight" is Chris Nolan's second instalment in the Batman series, and it's the best one yet. Both darker and more complete than any of its predecessors it stands as one of the best comic book adaptations ever made. Amazing set pieces and a gritty realism adds to the effect and the pitch perfect casting is tremendous. What great movies are all about.
3. "The Visitor" has been mentioned here earlier. Tom McCarthy's second feature is a brilliant story of lonely hearts and open minds. It is a humanly original fable about unlikely friendships and second attempts. Richard Jenkins is terrific in his first real leading role and if there is any justice in this world he should win every award out there the next couple of months.
4. "The Diving Bell And The Butterfly" by Julian Schnabel requires patience and tolerance, but if you're willing to let yourself go in it the payoff is well worth it. This true story of Jean-Dominique Bauby and his unbelieveable journey from a life as a successful magazine editor to the confines of a hospital bed enlights and celebrates the best and worst things in life.
5. "Juno" is everyone's favorite. A hilarious and orignal story with smart directing from Jason Reitman. Arguably the best cast of the year and without a doubt the finest soundtrack. This film is exactly what Hollywood needed and hopefully it will inspire more films ABOUT something and with REAL people. Qute and filthy at the same time and sharp around the edges.
Listening:
1. Vampire Weekend from New York created the years best with their self titled debut album. A smart and fresh pop album with classic and cathy tunes. Sounds like The Clash, and Bowie if he still allowed himself to have fun. And the single "A-Punk" just might be the coolest track of the year too.
2. The Music's third album "Strenght In Numbers" elevates this Leeds quartet from basement electro rock to stadium sounding and larger possibilities. A great collection of songs and a sound that no one else has at the moment. After a four year break they are certainly back on track and this album leaves you with the wonderful feeling that their best work might be yet to come.
3. "Dig!!! Lazarus Dig!!!" is a smashing return to form by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. Raunchy and funny tracks with some of the most memorable lyrics by the aussie. Not quite enough to compete with his early work but a solid reminder that Cave is still alive. And he wants your soul.
4. "Walk It Off" is americans Tapes 'n Tapes sophmore record and a different take on the alternative rock scene they explored in their brilliant debut "The Loon". A delishious sounding band with enough energy to blow the door off the room to stardom. Warning: Contains guitar riffs that require air guitar participation.
5. Madrugada is dead, but at least they left us a beautiful soundtrack for the funeral. Their final album, simply titled "Madrugada", only contains nine songs but it is more than enough to confirm their status as the finest norwegian rock band of all time. Sivert Høyem is friends with both God and The Devil and will sing his heart out for any of them. A perfect swansong for a perfect band.
2009 has got work to do.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Home For Christmas
I woke up this morning at 5.30am. Which meant I had only slept for two hours. I had gone to bed around 1am, but struggled to fall asleep. I woke up half an hour before the alarm clock was set to go off. I got dressed, drank two glasses of orange juice, brushed my teeth for less than ten seconds, grabbed my bag and left. Today I'm going home for christmas.
I took the bus to the airport. It was crowded and full of frustrated children and stressed out parents. I turned up the volume on my ipod and tried my best to let The Doors drown out all the madness. It seemed every family with an infant was travelling today. But nothing will get me down, because I'm going home for christmas.
At the airport, I check my bag and find the nearest coffee machine. Medicine for the insomniac. I buy some fruit in attempt to jumpstart my body along with the coffee, but there is no fooling this temple. I need sleep and my body is not afraid to tell me. I rest my head back against the wall and try to catch a few minutes, but it does not work. I tell myself I will write a letter to Apple on monday. If Nick Cave turned to the max on my ipod can not block out a family of four, three tables down from me, something needs to be done volume wise. But it's okay. I'm on my way home for christmas.
The plane is packed. Not a single seat to spare. I'm the aisle man, next to a fifty something male passenger who is either talking a lot to himself or trying hard to strike up a conversation with me, even though I've pulled my beanie over my eyes in a demonstrative attempt to show that my priority is sleep. Not chitchat about the lack of leg room on airplanes this day in age. Leave me alone old timer, I'm going home for christmas.
Arriving in my hometown, something magical happens. I'm in my late twenties and have done my share of air travel. I've travelled light, heavy, with skiis, my old dog, my bike, once I even checked in six pieces of luggage. And yet, something is happening right now that I've never seen before. My bag is the first one out on the belt. I really must be asleep. I've never even heard of something like that happening before. I mean, you always see the first bag that comes out but I've always just assumed it belongs to a man who died long ago and the bag has been travelling on that worn out conveyor belt since aviation was a new and sensational form of travel. I take my bag and look around at all the suckers who are shaking in their boots in fear that their luggage will not arrive and that there will be plenty of free space under the tree this year. I walk outside and it is snowing. Finally, a sign that christmas just might be around the corner. My Dad is here to pick me up and we drive straight home. I open the door and the smell of freshly baked bread and dinner in the oven hits. My Mom comes out in the hallway and gives me a kiss. She says; I'm glad you're home for christmas.
I took the bus to the airport. It was crowded and full of frustrated children and stressed out parents. I turned up the volume on my ipod and tried my best to let The Doors drown out all the madness. It seemed every family with an infant was travelling today. But nothing will get me down, because I'm going home for christmas.
At the airport, I check my bag and find the nearest coffee machine. Medicine for the insomniac. I buy some fruit in attempt to jumpstart my body along with the coffee, but there is no fooling this temple. I need sleep and my body is not afraid to tell me. I rest my head back against the wall and try to catch a few minutes, but it does not work. I tell myself I will write a letter to Apple on monday. If Nick Cave turned to the max on my ipod can not block out a family of four, three tables down from me, something needs to be done volume wise. But it's okay. I'm on my way home for christmas.
The plane is packed. Not a single seat to spare. I'm the aisle man, next to a fifty something male passenger who is either talking a lot to himself or trying hard to strike up a conversation with me, even though I've pulled my beanie over my eyes in a demonstrative attempt to show that my priority is sleep. Not chitchat about the lack of leg room on airplanes this day in age. Leave me alone old timer, I'm going home for christmas.
Arriving in my hometown, something magical happens. I'm in my late twenties and have done my share of air travel. I've travelled light, heavy, with skiis, my old dog, my bike, once I even checked in six pieces of luggage. And yet, something is happening right now that I've never seen before. My bag is the first one out on the belt. I really must be asleep. I've never even heard of something like that happening before. I mean, you always see the first bag that comes out but I've always just assumed it belongs to a man who died long ago and the bag has been travelling on that worn out conveyor belt since aviation was a new and sensational form of travel. I take my bag and look around at all the suckers who are shaking in their boots in fear that their luggage will not arrive and that there will be plenty of free space under the tree this year. I walk outside and it is snowing. Finally, a sign that christmas just might be around the corner. My Dad is here to pick me up and we drive straight home. I open the door and the smell of freshly baked bread and dinner in the oven hits. My Mom comes out in the hallway and gives me a kiss. She says; I'm glad you're home for christmas.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Merry Christmas! Will That Be Cash Or Credit Card?
I'm always amazed at the amount of money we spend on christmas shopping every year. It's nothing new and if people do have money to spend I suppose nothing is better than to spend it on gifts for the people closest to you. Christmas only comes around once a year, and all else aside, it is a nice opportunity to show your appreciation of your loved ones.
What gets worse though is how it has become more and more of an industry. We're used to seeing more commercials on TV for products that would make wonderful presents for your friends and family and the mailbox fills up with flyers and magazines advertising the perfect present for whoever it may be. This starts in the early days of November even. It is a business and for certain stores it is their most important time of year. I haven't started my limited christmas shopping yet, but I have noticed how the stores and advertisments have gotten more ruthless and whatever tiny bit of shame there ever was in the business, it is certainly gone by now.
The other day I was in a shopping mall, and outside a toy store there is a Santa with an alarmingly fake beard and highly visible pillows under his worn out red jacket. He is shaking the hands of the passing children and their parents and working hard to fool at least the youngest with an occasional attempt at a jolly ho-ho-ho. He's asking what the little kid wants for christmas and gets an uninteresting reciting of his wish list in return. Interupting the slightly overeager youngster he puts his hand on a tower of boxes containing some kind of toy crane building sets. "Wouldn't you love to open up one of these on christmas eve?". The kid lights up and immediately turns to his mother with wanting eyes and a, I imagine, much rehearsed smile. "Please mommy, can I get it?". Santa the Sales rep. discreetly leans forward and says to the mother; "It's on sale. Only 399." The parent is both surprised and slightly upset by this approach from Santa and starts to walk away. "We'll see, sweetheart." Needless to say, not a good enough answer for the kid who starts screaming and crying as his mother gently pulls him away from the store. Santa Claus scrathes his beard in dismay and starts canvassing the mall for his next mark.
Imagine the lovely car ride home the mother has with her child yelling and kicking at her from the back seat. What kind of a mother wouldn't let her son have a present from Santa Claus himself?
On my way out I passed a decorated christmas tree with a price tag on it. It does not get more symbolic than that.
What gets worse though is how it has become more and more of an industry. We're used to seeing more commercials on TV for products that would make wonderful presents for your friends and family and the mailbox fills up with flyers and magazines advertising the perfect present for whoever it may be. This starts in the early days of November even. It is a business and for certain stores it is their most important time of year. I haven't started my limited christmas shopping yet, but I have noticed how the stores and advertisments have gotten more ruthless and whatever tiny bit of shame there ever was in the business, it is certainly gone by now.
The other day I was in a shopping mall, and outside a toy store there is a Santa with an alarmingly fake beard and highly visible pillows under his worn out red jacket. He is shaking the hands of the passing children and their parents and working hard to fool at least the youngest with an occasional attempt at a jolly ho-ho-ho. He's asking what the little kid wants for christmas and gets an uninteresting reciting of his wish list in return. Interupting the slightly overeager youngster he puts his hand on a tower of boxes containing some kind of toy crane building sets. "Wouldn't you love to open up one of these on christmas eve?". The kid lights up and immediately turns to his mother with wanting eyes and a, I imagine, much rehearsed smile. "Please mommy, can I get it?". Santa the Sales rep. discreetly leans forward and says to the mother; "It's on sale. Only 399." The parent is both surprised and slightly upset by this approach from Santa and starts to walk away. "We'll see, sweetheart." Needless to say, not a good enough answer for the kid who starts screaming and crying as his mother gently pulls him away from the store. Santa Claus scrathes his beard in dismay and starts canvassing the mall for his next mark.
Imagine the lovely car ride home the mother has with her child yelling and kicking at her from the back seat. What kind of a mother wouldn't let her son have a present from Santa Claus himself?
On my way out I passed a decorated christmas tree with a price tag on it. It does not get more symbolic than that.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
"Another Quiet Room"
tired of being still but nothing moves
hear the voices outside the door
need to speak but follow the rules
the streets will be crowded just once more
clear your throat don't raise your hand
no one cares who the last one is
all things are set to self destruct
the glass is empty so get the bottle
don't bring keys and don't be late
stay on your feet and trust the light
another quiet room with the windows shut
everybody! don't look now
hear the voices outside the door
need to speak but follow the rules
the streets will be crowded just once more
clear your throat don't raise your hand
no one cares who the last one is
all things are set to self destruct
the glass is empty so get the bottle
don't bring keys and don't be late
stay on your feet and trust the light
another quiet room with the windows shut
everybody! don't look now
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Giggsy # 2
As promised, here is the photo of me alongside Ryan Giggs and the Premiership and Champions League trophy of last season. It was taken at the Supporters Club galla dinner on November 16th. I'm the second one from the left, in case you were in doubt. The other guys are fellow supporters whom I shared a table with that night.
And here is an old one, from when I first met the man back in 1999. It's nine years ago and as you can see, Ryan has let himself go a bit.
And here is an old one, from when I first met the man back in 1999. It's nine years ago and as you can see, Ryan has let himself go a bit.
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