https://open.spotify.com/track/6S7xVsmAMzGxH6CRMtCzcM?si=4235c9b3f50645b5
Recommended if you like Beck
Odelay!
https://open.spotify.com/track/6S7xVsmAMzGxH6CRMtCzcM?si=4235c9b3f50645b5
Recommended if you like Beck
Odelay!
https://open.spotify.com/track/06w4vTNpMzbXp7CPN4maeB?si=3bcfc5f45e14493f
Drums like Levon Helm “Up on Cripple Creek”.
Recommended if you like Beck.
Breakfast cereal video game.
Pauly Deathwish’s 3rd album.
I am behind.
I can’t keep up with this guy.
Out of the gates like Flaming Lips.
30,000 feel of despair.
The gash.
Right into Isao Tomita.
Doing Debussy.
Marching.
Martial.
Fantastic noises.
Like first Stereolab album.
Here Come the Warm Jets.
Cheyenne Mountain jams.
I can no longer see what I’m typing.
Teenage Fanclub.
That glow in The World’s End.
But a sadness.
THE sadness.
Emily Dickinson.
Unrequited.
Unattainable.
My Bloody Valentine.
Sloshy grunge hats.
Edge echo.
Chris Bell.
I Am the Cosmos.
Yerself Is Steam.
Slowdive.
Rutti.
Brian Eno.
The disappearance of Madeleine McCann.
Tom Petty.
You don’t know how it feels.
J. Spaceman.
Abbey Road.
Air.
George Martin.
Beck.
Badfinger suicides.
Loser.
Spiritualized.
Royal Albert.
I can only give you everything.
Rick Danko.
Loping.
The Delgados.
Dave Fridmann.
Black magic warded off by honesty.
Good timing.
Divine.
Sigur Rós.
Nigel Godrich.
Pocket symphonies.
Charlotte Gainsbourg.
Serge on the way.
Lenny Bruce, even.
Hit to Death in the Future Head.
Wait at least until track three to break it down.
Southern Harmony and Musical Companion.
Gorecki.
Arvo Pärt.
Deserter’s Songs.
Absolutely.
The confusion of ridiculous counterpoint.
Aaron Copland.
Tonal, yet dissonant.
Thick Billy Corgan.
Siamese Dream.
Definitely a sadness here.
Dawn Upshaw.
Tabula rasa.
Death.
Immense Mellotron.
Tchaikovsky.
Abrupt modulation.
Sugar plum.
Lou Reed.
Ennio Morricone.
Cinema Paradiso.
All you need is hate.
Upstate.
Chaliapin.
Basso profundo.
Jussi Björling.
Dvořák.
Memorial day.
The Inflated Tear.
Columbus, Ohio with duct tape.
Debussy.
Posing with a bass clarinet.
Primal Scream.
Get Duffy.
Rock ferry.
Smokey Robinson.
Sad clown.
Dead clown.
Kinks.
Grasshopper.
Suzanne.
Woodwind quintet.
Did I ever write one?
Yes, I did.
César Franck.
Saint-Saëns.
Organ symphony.
Or is it contrabassoon?
Nadia Boulanger can tell you.
My teacher’s teacher (twice over).
The Left Banke.
LSD.
Herb Alpert?
Hummel.
Handel.
Strawberry fields.
Stereolab.
Unequivocally.
Transient Random-Noise Bursts with Announcements.
A little lo-fi.
Vocal doubled.
Vox continental.
Great hook.
Changes that pull at your heartstrings.
More melancholy.
A fucking marimba solo?!?
Are you kidding me???
Makes sense.
Pauly Deathwish collaboration with Gordon Gano of Violent Femmes.
Lost Bayou Ramblers.
Gordon knew him as Death.
I have become death.
96 Tears.
Farfisa.
Partials.
Tim Gane tone.
Faust IV.
Doogie Howser?
Scary.
Impending.
Suspense.
Rock bass.
Ozzy.
Black Sabbath.
Amazing Grace.
Pete Townshend.
Front.
Back to J. Spaceman.
Dirty ass rock and roll with pristine horns.
Expensive drugs.
Sophisticated changes.
Éminence grise?
Is this the artist we’ve been waiting for?
Rodriguez?
R. Stevie Moore?
Wesley Willis?
Sounds like Jack Nitzsche.
Major Velvet vibes.
Suck-ceed twice.
Dylan with P-bass.
Mick Taylor.
Too much attitude.
Keith Richards.
Let it Come Down.
Shakespeare.
Fucker kicked the bucket.
First to be vaxxed.
Maricopa.
First Suicide album.
Bossa nova.
The Soft Bulletin.
Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space.
Gimme some lovin’?
Steve Winwood?
How old?
La Monte Young.
Slow changes.
First rehearsal tapes.
Alan Vega.
Martin Rev.
New York City heroin.
Warhol Factory torn down.
Across from YMCA.
Trump dances.
Great throwaway lyrics.
George Harrison.
Sound of universe.
Spacemen 3.
Savage tone.
Revolution.
Direct into mixing console.
Fried signal.
White album.
Sonic Youth.
Derek Bailey.
Lou ecstacy.
Late Lou.
European son.
Blood pressure rising.
Brutal.
Frankie Teardrop.
I think I’m in love.
Dub bass.
Will the circle remain unbroken?
When I had dinner with Roky.
13th Floor.
First Velvets album.
Heroin.
Drug rush.
Invincible.
But you gotta buy it.
Dirty Baltimore.
Cop shoot cop.
Cheree.
On the jukebox.
Eat at the gas station.
On tour.
First time in Texas.
American Supreme.
Iceland.
13 Angels.
It’s definitely Bowie.
New career.
Same town.
New old.
Old is new again.
Mercury Rev.
Savvy programming.
Dynamics.
Break beat.
A fuck ton of flutes.
Flute loops literally.
Bowie sax.
Little fluffy clouds.
Every drop.
Gay glam chorus.
Tony Visconti.
Don’t underestimate.
Pere Ubu.
First album.
Méliès.
Boys peel out.
Boces.
Inspector Clouseau.
Phone.
French ambulance.
Pants.
Gives me pants.
Videogames.
Cutting hole.
Pink Panther.
Herbert Lom.
A Shot in the Dark.
Grandaddy.
Under the Western Freeway.
Weeping willow.
Under that.
With Sean Mackowiak.
Square waves.
WarGames.
Tympani.
Rollerskate Skinny.
Dublin.
Kevin Shields.
Comes back loud.
One song mastered soft.
Definitely Low.
The main influence of Pauly Deathwish’s debut album.
Honegger.
Pacific 231.
Chariots of fire.
Vangelis.
Such a groove.
Nancarrow.
Polyrhythm.
Immense sadness.
By the side of a freeway.
Under an underpass.
Not like RHCP.
Much darker.
Like Godspeed.
Philip Glass.
Eno.
Blackstar.
How did a Trump supporter make this album?!?
I thought all Trump supporters were redneck morons???
This is way fucking better than Ariel Pink’s dabblings.
This sounds like a debut album.
Songs saved up.
Like The Strokes.
Cinematic as fuck.
Glitch Radiohead.
Trail of Dead.
Makes sense.
Because Pauly wrote the string arrangement on IX.
Dark.
Killers.
Disco compression.
Distressed.
These lyrics!
Johnny Rotten.
Trump 2021.
Snot on the crowd.
Arcade Fire.
Makes sense.
Lost Bayou Ramblers lost sessions.
Montreal studio.
This was all made on an iPhone?!?
Guy Debord.
Aladdin Sane.
Time.
Rick Wakeman?
Olivier Messiaen.
Major 7ths in uppermost range of piano.
Almost indistinguishable from octaves.
Eerie.
Slight.
Only for the sensuous ear.
The Wall.
Waters delayed bass.
No nonsense drums.
Humble Pie reference?!?
Ha!
Great lyrics!!
Predating new Bob Dylan album.
Check SoundCloud timestamp.
This is definitely the QAnon anthem.
This hook should be on a million conspiracy videos.
“10 Days of Darkness”.
Tell ’em Large Marge sent ya!
My end is my beginning is my end.
Grinderman.
No pussy.
Early-’90s.
Nirvana’s wake.
Finnegans Wake.
Great debut album (if I do say so myself).
Usual suspects.
Spotify.
iTunes.
Pauly Deathwish.
-PD
I’m so happy to be bringing you an actual film review today.
Even though I’m under the weather.
Yes, the airborne molds here in San Antonio seem to have brought on a nasty head cold.
[And before that it was the mountain cedar pollen. It seems my city is among the five worst in the U.S. for allergens!]
But nothing does the health quite as much good as a larf 🙂
And I must say, categorically, that Caddyshack is a masterpiece.
I suspected as much, but I never truly analyzed every bit of dialogue.
Till now.
And let me just start off by saying, the screenwriters responsible for this film deserve immense kudos.
First, Douglas Kenney.
If you go to the Caddyshack page on Wikipedia, you will notice that Mr. Kenney has no hypertext love for his name in the “informatics” box.
[Correction, Kenney’s name under the heading “Writers” is not hypertext-enabled, but his name is linkable elsewhere on the page.]
The story of Mr. Kenney is sad.
The strangest part is, HE DOES indeed have a Wikipedia page!
So why no link to the Caddyshack page?
My guess is that this film (and its stakeholders) probably want to distance themselves from the late- Mr. Kenney.
And that’s the saddest part.
You see, Douglas Kenney died almost exactly a month after Caddyshack was released.
Apparently Mr. Kenney was depressed about the bad reviews Caddyshack had gotten.
It’s a tragic story.
But we’re here to celebrate this wonderful film!
And there are two more writers to credit.
Harold Ramis, who passed away in 2014, is also credited with writing our timeless work.
And finally, Brian Doyle-Murray (who is thankfully still with us).
These three writers crafted a great story.
But most importantly, they should be revered for the fantastic banter which they concocted.
In its own way, the script for Caddyshack deserves a prominent place next to Ernest Lehman’s North by Northwest.
But to pull off great lines, you need great actors.
And Caddyshack is chockfull of masterful performances.
But first let’s take a look at the socioeconomic aspects of this story.
The action is completely set at a posh golf course in Nebraska: Bushwood Country Club.
While some of the allegorical caricatures are a bit crude (indeed, the whole film is gloriously crude), there is a nice message to this film.
Quite simply, it is the “haves” and the “have-nots”.
And the main, anarchist “have-nots” are the caddies.
Those lowly youngsters who schlep golf bags up and down green hills in lieu of golf carts.
It’s funny…
The manager of the Caddy Shack (actually played by writer Brian Doyle-Murray) holds the specter of replacement over the young caddies’ heads.
Shape up, or you’ll be replaced by golf carts.
[Or something to that effect]
I can hear the same strains echoing from my local McDonald’s (though I never go there).
You want fifteen dollars an hour?
Great.
Hello robots.
But these kids put up with a lot of shit.
And, though this film doesn’t get this in-depth, I feel for the youngsters who are out there working crappy jobs.
America is fucked up.
A cashier at a corner store shouldn’t be prevented from getting antibiotics for her infected tooth.
She shouldn’t have to miss work because we can’t figure out this problem.
I’m guessing she can’t afford the doctor’s visit.
Or the visit to a clinic.
But that’s pretty sad.
It’s like panhandling…
No one would dream of such an existence.
So we gotta be less cynical.
Yeah, panhandlers will try any trick in the book.
But in the final estimation, one must really feel sorry for anyone who has no better options than to spend their time begging (or, for that matter, hawking cigarettes for minimum wage at the Kwik-E-Mart).
But I digress…
The late- Ted Knight did a great job of playing the yuppie villain in this film.
You want to go to law school? And your parents can’t afford it?
Well, the world needs ditch-diggers too.
It’s a bloody-jawdropping line from our three screenwriters!
Ted Knight plays Judge Smails.
Yes, a real piece of work he is!
The “good-old-boys” network.
Even up in Nebraska.
Perhaps a jab at Warren Buffett?
We know, of course, that Mr. Buffett was having a very convenient charity golf tournament the morning of 9/11 at Offutt Air Force Base.
And Offutt is the central node of the U.S. nuclear deterrent.
And George W. Bush eventually made his way to Offutt on 9/11 (after stopping over at the second most important nuke site, Barksdale Air Force Base in Shreveport, Louisiana).
And then there was the jet owned by Mr. Buffett that was conveniently in the air near Flight 93 in Pennsylvania.
And Ms. Anne Tatlock who would have normally been in her office at Fiduciary Trust Company in the World Trade Center, but was playing golf with Warren Buffett.
Fiduciary Trust lost 87 employees on the morning of 9/11 when Flight 175 slammed into the WTC.
But Tatlock was in Omaha.
Too crazy to be true?
And who were the other invitees at Buffett’s event?
Let’s return to comedy, shall we? 🙂
Chevy Chase is fantastic as Ty Webb in our film.
He has no editing mechanism.
Here is a guy so effortlessly-rich that he just says whatever is on his mind.
Remind you of anyone?
And if that pointed-allusion to our PEOTUS isn’t pithy enough, we then have Rodney Dangerfield’s ostentatious character: a realtor!
Remember, in 1978 (two years before Caddyshack) the villain of Superman (Lex Luthor) was also a realtor.
It’s an interesting meme.
Indeed, the word “meme” was coined just two years before THAT (in Richard Dawkins’ 1976 book The Selfish Gene).
So perhaps it was just the Zeitgeist, but our writers had latched onto something with the realtor trope.
However, as stated, the villain of Caddyshack is the venal Judge Smails.
Rodney Dangerfield (who was magnificent in this film) is very much an anti-villain: the enemy of our enemy.
Dangerfield’s character Al Czervik may be nouveau riche, but he has many redeeming qualities.
To reel in one of my favorite memes, he puts the disruptive in “disruptive innovation” (thank you Clay Christensen).
I mean, really…you gotta hand it to a guy with Budweiser on tap in his golf bag 🙂
But perhaps the most important character is Carl (played to genius proportions by Bill Murray).
Carl is the slack-jawed “assistant [head?] greenskeeper” whose internal monologue is just audible enough to guide us through this film.
Every film critic should identify with Carl (except, of course, the “successful” ones).
Here’s a guy who basically lives in the toolshed.
I mean, the scene where Chevy Chase “plays through” is just classic!
Carl eventually does a little housekeeping with a leaf blower (presaging the eccentric roots of Beck Hansen [whose dust-choking start was still a ways off in 1980]).
But Carl really makes this film tick.
He is the Fanfare for the Common Man.
And there are Bronx cheers in place of the timpani!
[Did somebody sit on a duck?]
Sarah Holcomb probably doesn’t get much credit for her role in this film, but she should.
Ms. Holcomb was born on September 11, 1958.
This was her last film (according to Wikipedia).
While her Irish accent is a bit grating (because, I am guessing, it is merely a plot device), she is a joyful presence in this film.
Ah, but Cindy Morgan really steals the show as Lacey Underall.
And she’s not just a pretty face!
Her acting (and chemistry with Chevy Chase) is really remarkable.
Plus, she has the best line of the film:
“BULLFIGHTS ON ACID.”
God, I love that line…
Which takes us back to our writers.
These guys were really something!
But I haven’t even mentioned the auteur of our film.
It was, indeed, one of the three writers: Harold Ramis.
Sure, there are cheap stunts (actually, $8 mil. worth…in 1980!).
But they almost all work beautifully.
For instance, the Jaws spoof with the Baby Ruth in the swimming pool 🙂
I mean, God…what a concept!
And even little touches…like Ted Knight hacking through the bathroom door with a golf club instead of an axe (à la The Shining).
The Shining, incidentally, was released about two months before Caddyshack.
[Jaws hailed from 1975 and Jaws 2 had dropped in 1978.]
It’s hard to say to what extent Bill Murray and Chevy Chase improvised in this film.
The same goes for Rodney Dangerfield.
These were/are comedic geniuses.
So no doubt a good bit of credit for the final product goes to these three gentlemen.
But Harold Ramis pulled it all together.
And so, dear friends, if you haven’t seen this film, then you absolutely must.
It’s not Gone With the Wind, but it’s a very significant milestone in the development of cinema.
-PD