The Cinema of Robinson Devor: From Girl Watchers to Horse Fanciers

To commemorate the acceptance of Devor's third feature into the Sundance Film Festival, here's a profile I wrote in September. 

 *****

"The only animal worth making a documentary about is the human."
 --Charles Mudede on March of the Penguins (2005) 

Forget Mr. Ed, forget Equus. Seattle director Robinson Devor's upcoming documentary concerns what has become known locally as the Enumclaw Horse Case. Scheduled for release by THINKfilm in 2007, Zoo (formerly In the Forest There is Every Kind of Bird) draws inspiration from the poor unfortunate--part of a tight-knit ring--who died in 2005 from injuries sustained after engaging in carnal relations with said creature.

Devor confirmed his risk-taking rep with Police Beat (2005). Co-written by Charles Mudede, and based on his long-running crime column in The Stranger, the "blue and green" noir takes an impressionistic look at a week in the life of Senegalese bike cop "Z" (former Junior Olympic footballer Pape S. Niang). The dialogue is in English, Z's inner monologue is in Wolof. 

Manohla Dargis of The New York Times proclaimed the Sundance Grand Jury Prize nominee "dreamily poetic." A DVD release is in the works. 

So when did Devor, who grew up in New York, know he wanted to be a filmmaker? "I directed some theater when I was a junior in high school," he replies. He went to film school in Texas and spent 10 years in Los Angeles, also dabbling in music and poetry. While there, he befriended non-fiction auteur Michael Guccione (no relation to the plastic surgery-obsessed porn magnate). "We did a documentary on Angelyne, the billboard queen." Anointed "a knockout" by The Village Voice, the 1999 short received wide exposure on PBS--plus brisk video sales--and Devor was off. 

He followed with The Woman Chaser (1999), which became a cult item the minute it hit the screen. In this devilishly funny Charles Willeford adaptation, Richard Hudson (Patrick "Puddy" Warburton), used car huckster and wannabe director, oozes his way through post-war Los Angeles--all in glorious black and white. Really, what's not to love? As The New Yorker enthused, it's "wicked and brilliant." Sadly, despite some theatrical and cable action, the stylish noir has not yet made its way to DVD. 

While in Seattle to promote his first feature, Devor "totally fell in love" with the city and relocated from California. Ensconced in the Northwest for five years now, he seeks to excavate, as with Police Beat, more of the region's deepest, darkest secrets--which brings us to Zoo. Why this particular secret, I wondered. Well, the filmmaker sees his role like this: "Somebody shows you a new world, and what you're trying to do is find entrance to that world." 

In his second collaboration with Mudede, Devor delves into an obscure subculture--openly, but with respect. He doesn't disclose the name of the deceased, a 45-year-old aerospace engineer, but the words of his compatriots (identified by email handles) contribute to the narration. Mostly, he raises questions--about bestiality, sodomy, animal cruelty, desire and humiliation. As in the "ecstatic truth" documentaries of Werner Herzog, fact and fiction co-mingle. "It's a big challenge," he readily acknowledges, but the goal is the same: To explore what it means to be human. 

Endnote: This profile was originally written for a publication that pulled the plug due to discomfort with the subject matter. Consequently, it doesn't currently have a home, so thank goodness for blogs. I'm sorry if the topic of Devor's new film makes some people uncomfortable, but I think his track record confirms that exploitation is not his aim. When I have time, I'll transcribe the entire interview and post it to Seattle Film Blog. Images from The Stranger's Slog.

On the Mean Streets of Saul Dibb's Bullet Boy

BULLET BOY
(Saul Dibb, UK, 2004, 89 minutes)

Most major cities contain one neighborhood that's worse than all the rest. In Detroit, it's Eminem’s Eight Mile. In London, it's Lower Clapton Road, AKA Murder Mile, where Saul Dibb's gritty feature debut takes place.

The same day 19-year-old Ricky (Ashley "Asher D" Walters, Britain's notorious So Solid Crew) exits juvie, he scuffles with some Hackney rude boys over a broken rearview mirror. As the situation escalates, a gun enters the scene and the foreshadowing kicks into overdrive. 

Will Ricky whack someone...or will he get whacked? Or will impressionable 12-year-old brother Curtis (charismatic newcomer Luke Fraser) end up paying for his crimes? One thing is for certain: a rival's pit bull won't make it out of this feud alive. 

Marketed as a British Boyz N the Hood, the friendship between trying-to-go-straight Ricky and volatile "bruv" Wisdom (Leon Black) makes it more like an Anglo-Carribean cousin to Mean Streets. The performances, mostly non-pro, feel just as authentic and the East London slang lends verisimilitude--and, yes, a little inscrutability. 

Featuring an ominous score from Neil Davidge and Robert Del Naja of Massive Attack, Bullet Boy plays like a horror film with the street--rather than any of the characters--as monster.

Endnote: As featured in the December issue of Resonance (R.I.P.).

Image (Ashley Walters and Luke Fraser) from the Bullet Boy website.

When the Shillelagh Meets the Hood: Part Six

That Petrol Emotion, Babble, Polydor/Universal

It seems barely credible that a group responsible for so much brilliant music remained the preserve of a committed few, but that's how it was. Following the Petrols became akin to membership of an evangelical cult. You would turn up at services, be inspired, go away and spread the word, then sit back, waiting for the inexorable conversion of millions to our way of thinking. If it was frustrating for us true believers, goodness knows how it made the band feel to see great work consigned to the margins of popular consciousness. I was saddened but not surprised when they called it a day in 1994.
-- Keith Cameron (2000)

***** ***** ***** *****
Rising from the ashes of John Peel favorites the Undertones (1975-1983), That Petrol Emotion consisted of four funny-haired lads from Derry, Northern Ireland and one funny-haired Yank. The latter, Steve Mack, hailed from Seattle, where he currently resides. The Petrols sounded nothing like the Undertones, of which Sean and Damian O'Neill were founding members--and not just because Feargal Sharkey was no longer frontman. With Mack's assistance, Seán (guitar), Damian (bass), Reámann O'Gormáin (guitar), and Ciaran McLaughlin (drums) completely reinvented themselves. (In the CD booklet, Mack is credited with "stuff.")

Released by UK independent Demon, Manic Pop Thrill (1986) was the quintet's first album. I ended up picking it up after Babble, however, as their sophomore effort was a lot easier to track down. I was living in Anchorage in 1987 and imports could be pretty tough to come by. (Once I moved to Seattle the following year, that would change.) Produced by Roli Mosimann, drummer for the Swans, Babble manages to be diverse and cohesive at the same time. It's a mélange of pop, punk, funk, and hip-hop. Only "Creeping to the Cross" approaches dirgey Swans territory.


That Petrol Emotion - "Big Decision"

This 2001 CD remaster includes the original 11 tracks, plus five bonus selections (three alternate takes and two B-sides), along with liner notes by Keith Cameron. The slinky, stuttering "Big Decision," which received much love from MTV, remains my favorite. They describe it as follows: "Oil, spreagadh, saorú." Alas, I don't speak Irish, so I have no idea what that means, but their other comments are pretty revealing. Here's a sampling.

***** ***** ***** *****
Swamp: "Never tell an Englishman what you think," a friend once told me, "there are more and less subtle forms of venting your frustration."
In the Playpen: The rich behave like gangsters, the poor like prostitutes.
Inside: A plague upon Thatcherism.
Chester Burnett: I've got a black friend who used to live in Kilburn. She says that a lot of the Irish people there were just as racist as anywhere she's ever lived. It's pathetic, really. You live in a country where you've been oppressed all throughout history. Then, once you emigrate, you start treating other people sometimes less fortunate than you with the same inhumanity.
Creeping to the Cross: Putting a down payment on Heaven
and to Hell with everyone else.
***** ***** ***** *****

Cameron adds, "While Morrisey sang 'Hang the DJ,' That Petrol
Emotion had no such reservations, copping hip-hop beats and
incorporating Brother D & the Collective Effort's 'How We Gonna
Make the Black Nation Rise' into 'Big Decision.' Live, it became
'How We Gonna Make the Irish Nation Rise,' just in case anyone was still wondering what 'That Petrol Emotion' was all about."

Yes, that's right, the Petrols were a political band. They were also the product of a specific time and place. Sinead O'Connor dealt with some of the same issues on her 1980s recordings, like I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got (1989). "Black Boys on Mopeds," for instance, could be the companion piece to "Chester Burnett." Yet, despite similar concerns, I don't recall that the Petrols were often compared to other Irish acts, like U2 and the Pogues. Granted, there's a difference between Northern Ireland and the Republic. Plus, TPE, like the Pogues, were actually based in London. But they weren't often compared to politically-minded Brits, like Billy Bragg, either. Ultimately, they carved their own niche. It may have been a small one, but it was theirs alone.

That said, Babble can easily be enjoyed on strictly musical terms. There's no hectoring going on here. The more I listen, the more I hear. Only "For What It's Worth" flirts with psychedelia, but the abundance of minor chords brings to mind Love and mid-period Damned, while Television lives on in the discordant interplay between O'Neill and O'Gormáin. I also hear New Order and Love & Rockets in McLaughlin's rolling beats. There's nothing gothic about TPE, but there's a post-goth spirit haunting this enterprise. It's the brightness of Mack's voice combined with the darkness of the music. No doom and gloom, but plenty of yin and yang.

That Petrol Emotion released three more records before packing it in. There's some good stuff on End of the Millenium Psychosis Blues (1988), but I'm less familiar with Chemicrazy (1990) and Fireproof (1993). Manic Pop Thrill and Babble, however, are essential. In my collection, they fit between the Temptations' Psychedelic Shack/Puzzle People and the self-titled debut from Them, which couldn't be more perfect. For eight years, That Petrol Emotion inhabited a musical neighborhood all their own, located somewhere between Detroit and Derry. A troubled region, perhaps, but one permeated by passion and intelligence.


Endnote: Images from That Petrol Emotion, video from YouTube. Part six in a series about the influence of black culture on Irish music. For more, see Part One, "Green Eyed Soul" (Them), and Part Three, "Shamrocks and Shenanigans" (House of Pain).

Musique Non-Stop: New Music from Big Sur and Les Georges Leningrad

Big Sir, Und Die Scheise Andert Sich Immer, Gold Standard Laboratories

I knew I was going to like this record right from the start. The artwork is just too cool: lovingly detailed close-ups of plant matter decorated with rhinestones, pearls, tinsel, and glitter [see image above]. Of course, not all quality recordings are graced by appealing graphics--Joanna Newsom's Ys is a case in point--but it never fails to amaze me how often the two go hand in hand.

Big Sir's third consists of melodic pop with electronic, jazz, and hip-hop tinges. Lisa Papineau (Air, M83) reminds me of Sarah McLachlan, but there's nothing particularly folky going on here. It's just that she likes those soaring high notes, while the music often evokes David Sylvian. It's jauntier than that, for lack of a better word, but there's a similar sense of wooziness, probably due to the combination of Rhodes, Wurlitzer, and Mellotron.

Bassist Juan Alderete de la Peña (the Mars Volta) is the other half of the Echo Park duo, although they've got a lot of guests filling out their sound, like Hammond player Money Mark (the Beastie Boys). The worst thing I can say about Und Die Scheise Andert Sich Immer is that it isn't terribly memorable. Nonetheless, there are certain artists I turn to when I want to relax, like Brightblack Morning Light or Air circa Moon Safari. Big Sir fits right in.

Les Georges Leningrad, Sangue Puro, Tomlab

Get Bobo on the beats
Get Poney P., Mingo aussi
Put money on the song in the juke-box beast
Get Lil Poney for mammal beats!
-- "Mammal Beats"

Les Georges Leningrad are a synth-punk three-piece from Montreal (they began life as a quartet). They split their lyrics between French, English, and nonsense. As far as I can tell, Mingo L'Indien (guitar, electronics), Bobo Boutin (drums), and Poney P. (vocals) have nothing to do with their city's best known collectives: Godspeed You! Black Emperor and Arcade Fire.

The trio has their own loud, clattery thing going on, like a cross between the Pop Group and Le Tigre (with whom they've toured). Except not. Which is to say, they don't remind me of any one outfit. Plus, opening and closing instrumental tracks, "Sangue Puro" and "The Future for Less," are actually kind of quiet.

Sangue Puro, Italian for "pure blood," isn't a bad album, but it isn't my cuppa. That said, on their follow-up to Deux Hot Dogs Moutarde Chou and Sur les Traces de Black Eskimo, Les Georges are definitely dancing to the (mammal) beat of their own unique drummer. For that, the "petrochemical rockers" have my respect.

Endnote: Images from Alien8 Recordings and the official Big Sir website. Betsy Kenyon is the artist credited for Und Die Scheise Andert Sich Immer's nifty "Nut World" photography.

Lady Sovereign: The Biggest "Midget" in the Game

Lady Sovereign, Public Warning, Def Jam

So I can't dance and I really can't sing / I can only do one thing and that's be Lady Sovereign.
-- "Love Me or Hate Me"

*****

The gestation period turned out to be longer than expected and most tracks have already appeared in single form. Still, it was worth the wait for diminutive London rapper Lady Sovereign's first full-length. When I wrote about Vertically Challenged last fall, I was expecting her long-player to follow in February rather than late-October. Since the EP, Def Jam snapped up the 20-year-old and the S-O-V has been touring and doing publicity non-stop, so I think it's fair to say that awareness is at an all-time high.

I have no idea how well Public Warning is doing nationally, but according to the Seattle Weekly, it's a local top seller (I'm guessing it helped that she played this year's Bumbershoot). Though she's probably tired of the comparisons to MIA and Lily Allen, Lady Sov slots pretty neatly between the two and next to pal Mike Skinner (the Streets). I'm also reminded of the Arctic Monkeys as she slings just as much UK-specific argot. As she states in "My England," "I talk a lot of slang in my lyrics." As such, it's a thrill to see the album attracting so much attention Stateside as she's made no attempt whatsoever to tone down her Britishness.

Take "My England," for instance, which is like Sov's version of Allen's "LDN," i.e. "We don't all wear bowler hats and hire servants / More like 24-hour surveillance and dog shit on the pavements." That said, when she adds, "Now do the Tony Blair, throw your hands in the air now everywhere," I'm not sure what she means. But in "Love Me or Hate Me," she seems to be riffing on The Queen: "Now bow down to your royal highness / No, I don't own a Corgi / Had a hamster, it died because I ignored thee / Go on then, go on report me / I'm English, try and deport me." (So, where's that Lady Sovereign-Helen Mirren duet already?!)

My primary problem with this album is not a unique one. Because so many singles were released in advance, the LP selections pale a bit in comparison. Fortunately, I don't think any qualify as filler. On the downside, if you have all the EPs, you won't be getting the best value for your scratch. Since I only own Vertically Challenged, I got my money's worth, although the Missy Elliot remix of "Love Me or Hate Me" (track 13) doesn't hold a candle to the original (track five). Also, I gotta admit I don't hear much Eminem here, although a lot of folks have been dropping his name. Sov agrees. As she explains in "Blah Blah," "People wanna classify me as an Eminem / But hear what I'm a different kinda specimen / Just because I be a white Caucasian / Doesn't mean me and him are the same / Because one I'm not American, two I'm not a man / Three I'm coming through with a different kinda plan."

Incidentally, in the liner notes, Sov boasts, "Once I had a shit record label, now I've got a good one." I can understand the props to Def Jam/Island/Universal, but I don't think isn't too cool to dis the company that first brought her to the public's attention (I think she's referring to Casual Records as opposed to Chocolate Industries, with which she still appears to be associated). Then again, if you're going to take the S-O-V as she is, i.e. "Love Me or Hate Me," you've got to accept the fact she's trying to make music not friends. Just as the Decemberists released a major label debut that sounds more like the Decemberists than ever--for better or for worse--the self-proclaimed cheeky midget has done exactly the same thing. No false humility, false manners, or (God forbid) false nails. Public Warning is 100% Lady Sovereign.

*****

If you love me, then thank you,
If you hate me, then fuck you.
-- "Love Me or Hate Me"

Image from Wikipedia, video from YouTube.

Various Artists, Tonite Let's All Make Love in London, See for Miles

"To me it's to do...with the loss of the British Empire as such."
-- Michael Caine, Tonite Let's All Make Love in London

Since 1968, the soundtrack has gotten more play than the film. Though a Peter Whitehead retrospective is making its way across the country, I don't think this is going to change anytime soon. It's still easier to pick up the record than to see the documentary or "pop concerto." And if your town lacks a savvy cinematheque like the Northwest Film Forum, your chances of catching it on the big screen are slim to none. Plus, a DVD release hasn't been announced, although one must surely be in the works.

While the album features a number of fine British acts, its enduring appeal derives from two Pink Floyd rarities, "Interstellar Overdrive" and "Nick's Boogie." The former plays a key part in the film, since Whitehead structures his whole narrative around it. Instead of letting the song play in its entirety, he cuts from this, that, and the other thing (interviews with actors, artists, etc.) to Floyd at the UFO Club. The good news is that Syd Barrett, who Whitehead met at Cambridge, and gang sound great. The bad news is that you can barely see them (I could only identify Roger Waters). Whitehead shoots the group so that they're nothing but a colorful, psychedelic blur. It's appropriate, of course. By contrast, the Stones materialize in slow-motion black and white.



According to Wikipedia, this version of "Interstellar Overdrive" (16:46) was "done in one take, and pre-dates the version on The Piper at the Gates of Dawn," while "Nick's Boogie" (11:50) is an "unreleased jam recorded...during the extra studio time afforded by doing track one in the first take." The LP also includes a 30-second "Interstellar Overdrive (Reprise)," followed by a 58-second reprise. Although I consider myself a Floyd fan (Barrett-era, in particular), I'm no expert. To my ears, Tonite's "Interstellar" sounds a lot like Piper's--although it is a whopping seven minutes longer. Richie Unterberger, in the All Music Guide, describes it as "superior and more kinetic in its early section, though more tedious and drawn-out as a whole."

Whitehead doesn't speak with every musician in the film, but then it's only around 70 minutes long. Some he simply captures on stage, like the Floyd, and some in the studio, like Twice as Nice, Vashti Bunyan, and the Animals. Mick Jagger has interesting things to say, which you can hear on the record, since interview snippets are part of the package (Whitehead would also direct a number of Stones promos). Other interviewees include author Edna O'Brien, actress Julie Christie [right], artists Alan Aldridge and David Hockney, actor Lee Marvin (working in London at the time), poet Allen Ginsberg (who provides the title), and manager Andrew Loog Oldham (the Stones, Bunyan, Twice as Nice). Unfortunately, the Animals track, "When I Was Young," is missing from the soundtrack. I would imagine that this is due to rights issues.

Other notes of interest: Bunyan, who contributes "Winter Is Blue," was known simply as Vashti in 1967. She would soon break with Oldham and strike off on her own. The version of "Paint It Black" is sung by Chris Farlowe, while the Small Faces perform "Here Comes the Nice." Somehow I don't remember seeing footage of Farlowe or the Faces in the film, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. I think there may have been a brief clip of the latter in the studio, but some sequences are so short that if you blink, you'll miss 'em.

And there you have it. If you can see the movie, I'd recommend it. As with the soundtrack, it's a provocative portrait of Swinging Sixties London in all its pop-mod glory. To Peter Whitehead, that means body painting, dolly birds, miniskirts, strobe lights, and glimpses of Terence Stamp, Bianca Jagger, and lost starlets like Donyale Luna. And music, lots and lots of glorious music.



Endnote: The series Let's All Make Love in London: The Films of Peter Whitehead continues at the NWFF through 11/12. Please click here for a review of the retrospective and here for Tonite. For show times, click here. Image from Wikipedia.

Moonless Night in the Small Town: On Starless & Bible Black" Stellar Self-Titled Debut

Starless & Bible Black,
Starless & Bible Black,
Locust Music

"Starless & Bible Black take their name from British jazz pianist Stan Tracey's fantastic tune of the same name and culled from the famous Dylan Thomas radio play Under Milk Wood."
--Locust Music press release

When I first heard about this Manchester band, I wondered why
they named themselves after a King Crimson album. From the
Other Music description, it was clear they didn't sound anything
like their proggy predecessors. Not that 1974's Starless is a bad
album, but it isn't Crimson's best (I prefer 1969's In the Court
of the Crimson King). When I mentioned this to a friend, he sug-
gested that the phrase probably comes from a play or poem or
some such thing. In short order, he forwarded the following:

"It is spring, moonless night in the small town, starless and bible-
black, the cobblestreets silent and the hunched, courters'-and-
rabbits' wood limping invisible down to the sloeblack, slow, black,
crowblack, fishingboat-bobbing sea. The houses are blind as
moles (though moles see fine tonight in the snouting, velvet ding-
les) or blind as Captain Cat there in the muffled middle by the
pump and the town clock, the shops in mourning, the Welfare Hall
in widows' weeds. And all the people of the lulled and dumbfound
town are sleeping now."--Dylan Thomas, Under Milk Wood (1954)

I kept these words in mind
while listening to the self-
titled debut from Starless & Bible Black (especially since
I'm not familiar with Stan
Tracey). If the reference to
the progressive quartet
doesn't make sense, how
about the Welsh poet? Though
it's clear the trio doesn't intend a direct correlation—and it's just a name, after all—it fits as well as anything. The group builds their
sound on a base of folk (acoustic finger-picking) to which they add
shades of jazz (stand-up bass, brushes), electronic drones, and
chanson (Hélène Gautier sings with a pronounced French accent).

For the most part, it's quiet stuff. Like what Thomas is describing
in that passage from Under Milk Wood. But there's a whimsy to his
words that isn't part of the Starless style. The group's approach is
straightforward and sincere. When Gautier sings, "You are incred-
ible / You're out of sight" ("Tredog") she sounds as if she has no
idea that "out of sight" is a dated hippyism. As Johnny Rotten
might say, "She means it, man." Starless and Bible Black is an
irony-free zone, which means, assuming that irony really died
after 9/11 (a highly debatable proposition), that it's either way
ahead of its time or hopelessly anachronistic. I haven't decid-
ed which, but the lack of cynicism is certainly refreshing.

Having established that Starless doesn't sound like Crimson, here
are a few of the artists to which they've been compared: Pentang-
le, John and Beverly Martyn, the Velvet Underground and Nico,
Marianne Faithfull, the Cocteau Twins, and Eno-era Roxy Music.
Roxy Music aside (I don't hear it), I would add that fans of Beth
Orton, the Incredible String Band, and Blind Faith will find much
to admire. Why Blind Faith? Because I can easily envision this
threesome covering "Can't Find My Way Home." The song "B.B."
captures the same sad, sleepy mood. I'm also reminded of Tones
on Tail and Love and Rockets at their most mellow (something
about guitarist Peter Phillipson's Eastern-tinged playing).

Returning to the band's evocative name, would Dylan Thomas
admirers take to Starless & Bible Black? Not being famil-
iar with his work, I can't say. Their lyrics sound more like, well,
lyrics than prose or poetry, but literature lovers may well luxur-
iate in these soft and sensuous sounds. Those looking for music
with more of an edge, however, are advised to seek their fix el-
sewhere. As in that excerpt from Under Milk Wood, Starless
seeks to relax and to lull rather than to enliven and enervate.

Endnote: Images from Locust Music. For more information,
please see Starless & Bible Black's MySpace Page, which fea-
tures "The Birley Tree," "Time is for Leaving," and "Davanit-
sa" (a non-LP track). Interestingly, they list Jim Jarmusch
as an influence. Here's hoping he uses their music in a movie.

November 2006 Reviews

These are the reviews and
other assignments I'm work-
ing on for this month.

Amazon: Loving Annabelle,
This Film Is Not Yet Rated
(from the maker of Sick), Carson Country [Johnny Cash,
Dwight Yoakum, etc.], The Best of Donny & Marie - Volume 1 [two-disc set], Beverly Hills 90210 - The Complete First Season [six-disc set], Melrose Place - The Complete First Season [eight-disc set] (these two were easy to
review--I've already seen every episode!), The Golden Girls - The Complete Sixth Season [three-disc set], MacGyver - The Complete Final Season [four-disc set], Nirvana - Live! Tonight! Sold Out!, Marie Antoinette, Déjà Vu, and Pedro Almodóvar's Volver.

Hey! I got a shout-out in this month's Art House newsletter:

The Reviews of Kathleen C. Fennessy
Amazon DVD reviewer Kathleen C. Fennessy can always be
counted on to provide surprising insights into subjects from punk
rock to sitcoms. Some of her own favorite Amazon DVD reviews
include Save the Tiger, Elizabeth I, The Tomorrow Show with Tom Snyder - Punk & New Wave, Nighty Night - The Complete Season One, and Clean. We're lucky to have her.

It's nice to be appreciated.

Resonance: Lily Allen - Alright, Still, Cat Power - The Great-
est, Gnarls Barkley - St. Elsewhere, and David Lynch - Catch-
ing the Big Fish: Meditation, Consciousness and Creativity.

Seattle Sound: The Bird and the
Bee and Jon Garcia - self-titled, Wet
Confetti - Laughing Gasping, Amy Ar-
bus - On the Street, and a nightlife re-
view of Pan-Asian eatery Ballet.

Seattle Film Blog: Tonite Let's All Make Love in London (Peter Whitehead directs; with Mick Jagger, et al), Krzysztof Kieslowski retrospective, and Mutual Appreciation (Andrew Bujalski's follow-up to Funny Ha Ha).

Images from Wikipedia and the Bird and the Bee MySpace Page. Producer/keyboard player/songwriter Greg Kurstin has also left his fingerprints on works by Lily Allen, Beck, the Flaming Lips, and Stefy.