Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Come back home, Wes

I thought The Life Aquatic was okay. Wes Anderson walks the line between Wacky and what I guess you'd call Inspired Weirdness, and almost always defaults to the latter. Which is what makes his first 3 movies so great. They're inspired. But parts of TLA just felt Wacky for no good reason. Maybe he tried to tailor the script to a bigger budget?

Anyway, I have high hopes for The Darjeeling Limited. I watched the trailer twice. After the first time, I thought it looked decent. The second made me really want to see it. Maybe it's Owen Wilson's bandages, or the Kinks song, or Jason Schwartzman macing his brothers.

Thursday, July 19, 2007

I saw this on a bit on Conan and for some reason, doubted it could be real. Nope. Donald Trump has a line of steaks. He's pointing at them. And they're sold at Sharper Image. Well, one thing's for sure. I know where I'll be buying my beef/digital photo keychains from now on.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Muso Tour Diary, Part 3: Frat Dudes and Fat Chicks
When we last left Muso, they were asked to be in a bit on The Tonight Show. Let's see what happened!


Downtown Austin was madness, but somehow we found parking. I jumped out and assembled the tiny drum set we bought from Toys R Us for the Leno bit. The idea: I am tall and lanky, the drums are small. It was silly enough and, for fans of television, visual. The bit would feature Wayne Coyne interviewing different SXSW bands on the street, saying and doing weird, funny things.

Tonight Show Dave and Wayne Coyne were easy to spot. They were the ones coaching a band in white track suits how to react to all the confetti. Dave took us aside. He loved the small drums. "What if you set em on fire? Ya know, did a Hendrix thing with em?"

Photo Hosted at buzznet.com

Five minutes later, Wayne Coyne was teaching Josh the finer points of incinerating a drum set. The interview took some unexpected turns.

Photo Hosted at buzznet.com

Afterwards, we ran into our friend, Tommy. I was carrying a charred drum set and the grins on our faces were ten miles wide. "I thought y'all were joking! You really met Wayne Coyne?!" We invited him to the second part of the bit, which had all the bands gathered together for a sing along with Wayne. It got cut from air, but here it is in all its corny glory. (We're in the middle row).

(This was all rigged up, by the way, by the amazing Fatso).

Thursday afternoon, we hung out with friends and friends of friends for a barbecue, which we soundtracked. Exhaustion + humidity + beers + playing = downed Parker.

We backed the trailer into the driveway.

On Friday, 2/3 of Muso saw Public Enemy. The tickets were compliments of Jerk Store, who used his VIP status to get us backstage. Basically, this meant we drank free beer from the wings as we watched Chuck D get 30,000 Texans to chant "Fuck George Bush!" Meanwhile, Flavor Flav pimped his 10 shows on VH1.

But the highlight of the tour looked to be our showcase as part of the Heart of Texas festival, which was riding the tails of SXSW. The difference between the two festivals can be seen in the venues. SXSW shows happen at places like Stubbs and Emo's, well-known, historical-to-locals Austin clubs. Heart of Texas shows happen at bars like Treasure Island, which is historical to no one, but known to a lot of frat dudes. In fact, we were told by folks we ran into that TI was full of "frat dudes and fat chicks."

But make no mistake. We didn't give a shit about any of this. We were just happy to have a show.

After navigating the trailer around traffic, people, closed streets, one-way streets, parking, a near ticket, and parking again, we were there. As promised, it looked like a pirate ship. And, besides our families and friends, it was full of frat dudes. But if there's one thing frat dudes like to hear when they're drunk, it's our music, apparently. (I'll take that as a compliment, why not?) We played inside a hut, complete with palm frands that dangled in our faces.

Click here to see a song from the set.

We backed the trailer into the driveway one last time.

We left Austin the next afternoon with crossed fingers. The car hadn't been cured of its mystery sickness. Thankfully, the check engine light came on only once, and the smell of fire subsided. Or maybe I just got used to it. 22 hours in a car will do that to you.

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