Director Joseph Nicolosi has created the world’s first indie movie take on Mario Brothers with this chucklesome (and quite plausible) trailer about a thirtysomething plumber called Mario who takes too many mushrooms, has some girlfriend trouble and likes to wear dungarees. A lot.
The Mario ‘film bumper’ is due to be screened at SXSW 2011. Here’s hoping Nicolosi’s princess isn’t in another castle and he gets to make a full-length version.
Here’s a short film I put together detailing my band’s hobby of taking the mobility scooters at branches of Wal Mart for a spin in the early hours of the morning on our last US tour. Note I resisted the urge to put ‘The Chain‘ in here.
Enjoy!
Like any big movie-series-thingy, Star Wars has inspired many knock-offs, though none is quite as stupefying and entertaining as this Chinese bootleg of 2005′s Revenge Of The Sith.
Made by Chinese hackers in their basements using Google Translator to convert English to Chinese and then back again, Backstroke Of The West is a baffling and hilarious muddle from start to finish.
Confusing the Jedi Knights for the Presbyterian Church, sprinkling the story with references to elephants and taking a fast-and-loose approach to cursing are just some of the charms of this mind-bending rip-off.
Weirdly, it’s kinda more entertaining than the original. Especially when it contains subtitles like this:
We didn't know he had a little arm for THAT job...
Do you smell something funny?
Check out this news story from 2007 about a semi-naked drunkard breaking into a town hall in Morecambe, England: it may sound dull but it’s hands-down the funniest news story I’ve ever read.
You see, not only was our tippler very drunk, he was also dressed as the Grim Reaper and engaged in a series of slapstick events so degrading even Frank Spencer was left looking debonair by the end.
When this story came to court, one probation officer had to leave in fits of laughter, because…well, you’ll just have to read it for yourself.
This’ll tickle your funny bone, albeit in a rather sinister way: a new book has revealed that the Scottish violinist who played as the Titanic sank, and went down with the ship, was billed two weeks later for ‘alterations to his uniform’.
Is this the least-likely-to-be-settled debt since Pontius Pilate sent Jesus a bill for his cross two weeks after Easter?
What, too soon?
Via Fortean Times.
I was (as usual with hype releases) a little late coming to Arcade Fire’s most recent album The Suburbs, but it’s proven just as engaging and loveable as their previous albums.
Especially rocking is album track Modern Man, which has shades of Springsteen to it and a wonderful, offbeat riff. It’s night-driving music.
In fact, such is my love for the kind of restless enthusiasm of the track that I now believe it represents a genre I call ‘Lifestyle Rock’, other examples of which include Dancing In The Dark and I Drove All Night. It’s fist-pumping, in a man-against-the-world kinda way.
Please note Lifestyle Rock differs from Inspirational Rock, which is used as the soundtrack to sports movies’ trophy-lifting scenes and training montages. Totally different thing.
Here’s something I wonder about: do some types of human faces belong strictly in the past? Is a face like that of Marie Antoinette or Abraham Lincoln even possible any more?Are we any better looking than the people of olde? Judge for yourself by casting an eye over this excellent gallery of mugshots from Australia’s Justice & Police Museum collection. They show various villains, ne’er-do-wells and unfortunates who were collared in the 1920s, and some of the photos are sublime. Warning: Your grandad might be in here…
Happy International Women’s Day, everyone (well, unless you’re in Cambodia).
I’ll toot my own horn here for a moment (though it’s a horn that loves a-tootin’) by linking to my other blog, They Chose Poorly. It’s a simple premise, as blogs go; myself and my co-conspirator Rory McGuigan upload photos of celebrities who look like they drank from the wrong Holy Grail at the end of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, and generally have a laugh about them. It’s been running for about two months now and is enjoying a very healthy hit-rate. Check it out and please recommend some Grail Fails of your own!
Here’s how music PR works; record companies have a PR person, normally a lady (because they’re usually less offensive to look at / speak to / smell than men). She’s in contact with people who work at all the magazines, websites and radio stations likely to feature her label’s kind of music.
These people, who are locked in an eternal battle to fill column inches and airtime every month, look to Miss PR Lady and her ilk to keep them up-to-date on which bands are up to what on any given month.
From there it’s a wheeling, dealing game. Some bands are shoe-ins for coverage; if Metallica have a new album coming, Editors will fight and bargain to speak to them; if Bromley’s newest Satanic Technogrind band have an EP coming, it’ll take all the PR Lady’s guile to squeeze them into print.
Let’s presume that if you’re reading this, you fall into the latter category and must face some harsh realities.
Rather than being flown to Maui and courted by a Metal Hammer rep over a few Daiquiris, you’re more likely to end up chatting over a pint and some Monster Munch in a boozer somewhere up the Old Kent Road.
This is because, unlike herpes and hugs, press costs moolah. In the past, record companies would set aside budgets for press, giving their PR Lady enough money to fly a journo out on tour, ferry them into a studio or take them for dinner to bend a band’s ear.
Thanks to plummeting music sales PR budgets have shrunk, making press junkets a thing of the past for all but the biggest labels and acts.
Kiss are still yammering away to a string of journalists in a dimly-lit hotel room, but the rest of us are struggling to be heard.
Online music journalism is flourishing, though its writers are usually unpaid fans, delighted to just get a review copy of an album or a quick chat with their favourite band of the moment.
These guys are the footsoldiers of rock, and a nice cheap alternative to demanding, costly magazine hacks who expect dinner and a show with their interview.
Though the glory days of music journalism are past, talking shop to the media is more important than ever. Unfortunately, most young bands take a ‘monkey with a revolver’ approach to it; it’s comical at first, but likely to end in disaster.
The most important thing to remember is honesty. Bands will either aim too high, spouting out lofty clichés they’ve read in magazines which don’t wash in the real world (you think anyone will believe you when you say ‘We’re the new Iron Maiden’?), or clam up entirely.
The key is to tell the truth in interviews. If you’re excited, be excited. If you’re scared, be scared. If you hate a band, just say so. No one cares. The media are hunting for quotes above all, and the best quotes come from the truth.
The other key to the media is making friends. Music journalists are just lippy metal fans after all, and having them on your side can be worth more than all the column inches in the world. They’re used to dealing with jumped-up debutantes and ego-mad rockstars, so they’re always ready to respond to a bit of down-to-earth banter.
Just don’t tell them you’re the antichrist and you’ll be fine.
