The Culture Bunker

Young Fresh Fellows are still the World’s Greatest Rock ‘n’ Roll Band, though would a little spontaneity kill you guys? Three words: Tad Is God. . . . Saw X Men. It blue. . . .

As if the Beasties/RATM tour wasn’t going to be enough of a good time, plans call for a chicks-only/booze-free mosh pit. Par-tay! This apparently is to deter “the big knuckleheads” who usually ruin the fun for everyone else. Sure, they’re the ones who actually buy Beasties and Rage records, but fuck ’em!

Nice to see the great Trace Beaulieu and Joel Hodgson on the equally great Freaks and Geeks mini-thon. Isn’t it getting to be time for an MST3K reunion?

Brian Wilson is out on the road touring Pet Sounds On Ice or some such nonsense (kicking off last week in Easton, Pennsylvania—Jason’s hometown, such as it is). You know if Paul McCartney started performing Sgt. Pepper in its entirety there’d be outrage, and not just from Anthony DeCurtis. . . . Jimmy Smits has joined the cast of Star Wars Episode Two: Who Gives A Shit Anymore? He’ll be playing the Puerto Rican guy. . . . The years-in-the-hyping Planet of the Apes remake is now called The Visitor. Kee-rist, that Tim Burton really is a friggin’ idiot. . . . Frank Miller has announced that he’s readying the upcoming sequel to The Dark Knight Returns. File this info under The Phantom Menace, Hannibal, and Chinese Democracy. . . . Hey, Lois: Diarrhea!

Old Punks Make Great Records Dept.: We’re loving the new album from Grant Hart as well as the very great Twenty Odd Years—The Story of Vic Goddard & the Subway Sect collection. We also dig the Penelope Houston CD on records. We think they might have a Web site. . . . Not that we haven’t all known this for years, but man, that Joe Eszterhas really is one bad writer. . . . After years of ignoring the Field Mice, Jason finally broke down and bought a Trembling Blue Stars record. Guess what? It’s so friggin’ twee, Stuart Murdoch probably finds it a bit light in the loafers! Even a couple of whiny wussies like Damon and Naomi could kick their ass!

Two people have been killed by bears this month. Our advice: Avoid bears. . . . Jimmy Iovine alleges that Eminem is the most talented musician he’s ever worked with. More talented than Dan Hartman? More than the Breakfast Club? Thrashing Doves? Get the fuck out of here!

Jennie Garth is set to direct her first feature. We are sooo there. . . . Fingerbang rule. . . . Why is a half-naked Bill Maher in Jane‘s Swimsuit Issue? It’d be creepy and gross in a grown-up mag, but this is just plain wrong!

Apparently the citizens of Waco are tired of people inquiring if their town is full of religious nuts. Maybe if they’d just give up that whole crazy Baptist thing people would stop asking. . . . The new Allison Moorer album is OK, but the Allison Moorer electronic press kit—Oh my! Except maybe for the “coproduced by her husband” part. Lucky bastard!

Michael Bay and Jerry Bruckheimer‘s Pearl Harbor is going to cost more than $200 million, but won’t make dollar one in Asia. Oh, and everything gets blowed up at the end. Except, sadly, Michael Bay. . . . Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire is 752 pages. Most adults we know couldn’t handle that. Worse, they wouldn’t even try. . . . Liam Neeson recently broke his pelvis in a motorcycle accident. His enormous uncircumcised cock took most of the impact. . . .

We now know why Amy Heckerling‘s follow-up to Clueless isn’t generating any buzz: Loser—alas—is witless formula crap. The good news however, is that Mena Suvari is one movie closer to being over with. . . . Judging from the girls in the commercial, we do not want to be in with The In Crowd, we want to be in The In Crowd, if you dig where we’re coming from. But why did this movie open on a Wednesday? As far as we can tell it has nothing to do with hip-hop. . . .

Back on the couch, we quite liked Opposite Sex: traditional Fox teen tone, many hot young chicks, and a veritable goldmine of story possibilities. On the other hand, Young Americans (with its Nick Drake soundtrack) is just awful, WB at its worst, sun-dappled singer/songwriter-smothered dreck. Plus, it’s the all-time gayest show ever. Gayer than Oz, you ask. Gayer than Oz. “Pink Moon” indeed!

In closing, here’s three more words: Van Terminator, Daddy!