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February 13, 1990 - Image 8

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The Michigan Daily, 1990-02-13

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Page 8 -The Michigan Daily -Tuesday, February 13, 1990

Thick as a brick

Maumee's dearest

Hard to Kill
dir. Bruce Malmuth
BY MIKE KUNIAVSKY
Some people think there's not
enough violence in the world today.
Manson, DeKlerk, Bush, Seagal.
Seagal? That's Steven Seagal
(pronounced say-gall). As the heir-
apparent to the aging mus-
cle/karate/killing-machine guys of
the post-Vietnam '70s and the Rea-
gan '80s, he follows in the steps of
Lee and Norris: fighting like a mas-
ter and acting like a brick. He even
married actor/model Kelly LeBrock,
his current co-star, so that people
would wonder what kind of disgust-
ingly athletic sex they have.
As one would expect, the plot of
the film is not too original. The best
cop on the force, Mason Storm, dis-
covers a political plot in 1983; he is
found out by some crooked cops
who then have a hit put on him.
After being shot a bunch of times
and taking out a couple of their com-
rades, the bad guys leave him for
dead. Of course he isn't. Seven years
later ("today," as the saying goes) he
comes out of a coma to find that he's
been hidden away for the whole time
in a coma center as "John Doe." Pre-
siding over his ward is a beautiful,
single and lustful Andy Stewart (Le
Brock) who monitors his hearbeat
and hopes that he will come out of
his coma because he has a large pe-
nis (this is revealed in a touching
scene where she lifts his covers and
says something to the effect of "oh,
I wish you'd wake up, you have so
much to live for").
Now that Storm's awake, his
enemies discover his whereabouts
and decide to have him rubbed out
for good. But Mason Storm is no
wussie, and even with his muscles
atrophied he manages to

Out of the great rock oasis of Maumee, Ohio (perhaps it's a code name for the much-publicized Seattle. No
one really knows) comes another of those bands that thrive on all the havoc a wah-wah pedal can wreak.
With Andrew Wendler (another bastard child of that tree town metal gem Necros) on guitar, Gone in Sixty
Seconds descend on the Pig tonight with all the fury of said establishment's previous Tuesday night thrash
bash features. Greenhouse opens up the set. Doors open at 9:30; cover is a mere $4. And yes, that guy second
from the left does look like one of the Ramones. We're just not sure if it's Dee Dee or Joey.

EVERYBODY'
Continued from page 7
succeed in making her a total mess.
Director Karel Reisz (Isadora)
fails to save Miller, who seems to
have been trying to make some great
comment on the purifying effect of
truth and confessions. The entire
drug plot becomes even more ludi-
crous when it is revealed that Winger
has ties to the local prosecuting at-
torney, who just happens to be an
old rival of Tom's, and who, by the
way, is completely corrupt, along

The fact that he's the top cop in the business is not the only reason
Mason Storm (Steven Seagal) is able to attract Andy Stewart (Kelly
LeBrock). The real clincher is that big ah,um... gun he has. Yeah, that's it.

with the rest of the city government,
and has framed the kid in the first
place. This is all supposed to be tak-
ing place in a small town in Con-
necticut. Weird things can happen in
small towns (see Blue Velvet), but
the events must be revealed to us in
a sensible way. In Everybody Wins,
most of the plot is brought out by
one character telling another about
some event that happened in the
past. This just isn't enough to make
us care.
EVERYBODY WINS is playing at
Fox Village and Showcase.

BOOKS
Continued from page 7
weigh it down. It keeps the story
moving most of the time, pulling
the reader through the expected, but
using flashbacks and scene changes
in a way to make it all unexpected.
This all adds together to make an ex-
cellent horror novel. Barker uses the
conventions of the genre beautifully,
but unfortunately never overcomes
them, and, in the end, produces only
an excellent horror novel, not just an
excellent novel.
I -Antonio Roque

singlehandedly avoid capture by the
hitman and get Stewart to take him
to her pad, a luxurious, out-of-the-
way mansion with a fully equipped
gym. Here, he manges to avoid de-
tection for an indeterminate period of
time (a Rocky-esque guitar solo
montage compresses it) while he
works himself back into shape. Of
course, the bad guys eventually track
him down and he kills them. All of
them, of course.
All this would be tolerable, even
okay (Tango and Cash is about at
the same level of intelligence, but a
lot more enjoyable) if all of the bad
guys weren't Latino. I know that
Latinos haven't been widely stereo-
typed by Hollywood in a while, but
this isn't something that director
Bruce Malmuth should strive to
change. We've seen enough recent
films where the great middle class
caucasian couple must fight their
way out of insurmountable obstacles
placed by minority (i.e. Black,
Latino, ethnic, female, and/or poor)
evildoers. This is a disturbing trend,

Hollywood schlock being a strong
indicator of what the middle class
youth of this country want, because
it's no longer necessary - all of@
sudden - to invent enemies in dis-
tant lands for the Rambos and Co-
All this would be
tolerable, even okay
(Tango and Cash is
about at the same
level of intelligence,
but a lot more
enjoyable) if all of the
bad guys weren't
Latino.
nans to fight. It's okay to find ene-
mies in your own front yard.
In one ironic scene, two Latino;
stereotypes plot to kill Storm while
a Do the Right Thing billboard looms
behind them. I don't know whether;
Malmuth has seen DtRT, but I think
it's about time.
HARD TO KILL is playing at Fox'
Village and Showcase.

Passion Fodder
Woke Up This Morning
Beggar's Banquet
America sucks! It destroys indi-
viduality by "walking all over our
faces," denies the intrinsic human
worth and dignity of Latin American
people with the invasion of "Los
Cuatro Generales," and forces its cul-
ture down the throats of its European
allies.
This is the view of American ex-
patriate Theo Hakola and his band,
Passion Fodder. They use American
roots music - country, blues, and
folk - as the basis for their tirade
against American culture. These
uniquely American idioms are used
in much the same way that the U.S.
government uses the term
"democracy." The music is separated
from-its original intentions; it cele-
brates nothing, instead it wallows in
anger and despair. Their music is
parched and raw, barren and' malig-
nant..
These American genres are ulti-
mately subverted by a European con-
sciousness: blues progressions are
turned upside down with the addition
of avant-garde rhythms and minimal-
ist violin, and the folktale lovers
Frankie and Johnny are turned into
Bertolt and Marieluise.
Hakola hurls invective at society
in a voice that sounds like a combi-
nation of Gordon Gano, Fred
Schneider, and Lux Interior. Like his
music, Hakola's voice is unpleasant,
at times even painful, because, like
Bertolt, he believes in the alienation
effect. Everything on Woke Up This
Morning has been displaced; the
music is removed from its context,
Vegas is Hell, and baseball is being
played in France.
- Peter Shapiro
Happy Mondays
Madchester Rave On EP
Factory U.K.
Poor old Sam Beckett is dead and
gone, but I'm sure if he were here, it
would soon be agreed over a pint of
Guinness that the crack is good
with the Happy Mondays. Hardcore
hedonists to the end, the Mondays
couldn't give a toss about the gentri-
fication of popular moozik.
Fuelled by designer drug Ecstasy
and lots of lager, the Mondays are at
this moment funkier than James
Brown's prison cell, which is to say,
quite funky indeed. Along with fel-
low Manchester lads and drinking
mates the Stone Roses, they've
dominated the British pop press for
the last few 'months: the Stone

Mondays invite you to put on your
sweat top and flared jeans (22 inch
flares are de rigeur) and get on up.
"Hallelujah" is the record's power
track, a non-denominational foot-
stomper that rejoices in bricolage
("Hallelujah! Hallelujah! We'll take
a bit of this and that") amongst other
things. With a dance rhythm and
swirling, edgy guitar, lead singer
Shaun Ryder acts as shouting toast-
master over producer Martin Han-
nett's (Joy Division) dense produc-
tion. The remix charges up the beat
with a Latin keyboard arrangement
as well as a sampled choirboy.
. "Clap your Hands" and "Holy
Ghost" move along gingerly and
quite satisfactorily, but "Rave On" is
stunning. The Red Hot Chili Pep-
pers would kill for a bass groove

as any to start. The keyboard-less
Seattle quartet plays kick-ass guitar
music created solely by them but
definitely aware of all kinds of six-
string styles from the '50s to 1989.
Underneath the guitar swirl lives a
rhythm section one could describe as
almost funky, in a grand sort of
long-hair early '70s manner. Mud-
honey tuneage brings to mind good
sex, as tense, controlled workouts
break out into frenetic bursts of en-
ergy; that is, when they aren't sim-
ply explosive from start to finish.
If you have heard Mudhoney be-
fore you already know all this. The
enticing promise of a full-length Su-
perfuzz Bigmuff has been delivered.
Mark Arm's powerful lungs are still
healthy and the focus of their songs
remain where the thoughts of the

Me Out" is the works as regards full
horn arrangement, totally incompre-
hensible lyrics about former scien-
tists, and maximum bass. "Tell Me
That I'm Dreaming" is the group's
reaction to Ronnie Reagan's first
few months in office, back in the
days when the Iran hostage crisis
was the main issue testing his feeble
synapses. Was (Not Was) samples
Ronnie saying, "Can we who man
the ship of state deny it is somewhat
out of control." The Was brothers
take the master of the nautical
metaphor to the absurdist (very) end.
Kid Creole & the Coconuts are
on sprightly form in the shape of
1981's "Table Manners." But their
piece de resistance is "Annie, I'm
Not Your Daddy," which features the
Coconuts singing "Ono-ono-ono-
matopeia" in the background. The
Waitresses, who sounded like
Blondie on valium, pour on the en-
nui for their flip teaser "I Know
What Boys Like;" their moving and
bodacious seasonal classic
"Christmas Wrapping" is one of the
few X-mas songs that doesn't induce
spontaneous vomiting in this pop
hack.
Christina turns on the camp fac-
tor in her "Disco Clone" (featuring
Kevin Kline on macho spoken vo-
cals) and then indulges in the perfect
banality of "The Lie of Love."
Christina is the nightmare sleaze
lounge singer who's out for revenge;
her cynicism will have you on your
knees. It's a shame her near-mythical
rendition of the Lieber & Stoller-
penned Peggy Lee classic "Is That
All There Is?" is missing from Zet-
rospective. Peggy Lee's version is
pretty disillusioned, but Lieber and
Stoller threatened to sue Ze after
they heard the slightly changed, even
more self-defeating lyrics of
Christina's S & M-tinted version.
Zetrospective has the mis-
chievous spirit of a record label that
always thought "formula" was a
dirty word. Zilkha's roster of artists
has now moved far and wide to other
labels, but what ever happened to
him?
-Nabeel Zuberi
Jungle Brothers
Done By the Forces of
Nature
Warner Bros.
If De La Soul could be considered
the Beatles of rap, then the Jungle
Brothers must be its Steely Dan:
vaguely spiritual, almost mystical
lyrics, undeniably mellowing
Trfnop 17i'7U urrne ind cnn ld-

Yeah, they do look kind of wimpy but this minor setback has not deterred
the members of Passion Fodder from issuing a hearty "fuck off" to the
land of the stars and stripes and its clouded perception of democracy.

half as dirty as this. For the remix
the Mondays lift the guitar line from
the O'Jays' "For the Love of
Money." Shameless plagiarists with
a nice line in misquotation and dis-
tortion, the Happy Mondays are ones
to watch.
Pop music needs more of their
kind to give it a well-needed kick up
the backside.
--Nabeel Zuberi
Mudhoney
Mudhoney
Sub-Pop
At this point in the continuing
saga of using the electric guitar to
entertain folks, it's fairly difficult to
play the instrument without some-
one like me claiming "'60s rip-off'
or "(insert-hip-band-here) clone." To
avoid this, bands can attempt to
push the experimental envelope
furthur out there (a crowded place) or
th.v mnv ei, cm-or..-i wmn Win

original '60s punks were - the
crotch.
It's been said that Sub-Pop bands
start to sound alike after awhile, and
only so many bands can actually
achieve Total Fucking Godhead. The
best way to decide for yourself is to
get a hold of the Sub Pop 200 com-
pilation and pick out which vocalist
(and to a lesser extent which bassist)
moves you the most. On that collec-
tion, Mudhoney's non-campy, non-
kitschy, non-quirky, flat-out power-
ful version of "The Rose" (yes, the
song by the Divine Miss Midler)
will show you why Mudhoney is the
cream of the Sub-Pop crop.
-Brian Jarvinen
Various Artists
Zetrospective: Dancing in
the Face of Adversity/Hope
Springs Eternal
Ze/Island
TndI and Thnnri- dAd 1n r0nA 7.

"The city's a jungle, and we are
the brothers," the three JBs chant on
"Beyond This World," "... this so-
called king of the jungle... will run
for cover." Could it be that behind
the dashikis, peace signs and mysti-
cism, the JBs brood and wait for a
violent revolution, like their unsta-
ble contemporaries Public Enemy,
or the inflammatory NWA? Read on.
Throughout hip hop/funk's his-
tory, the most exciting acts were al-
ways those that coaxed exquisite
sounds out of their instruments:
Newcleus, Afrika Bambaataa and the
Soulsonic Force, War, the Gap
Band, and, just recently, De La Soul.
The Jungle Brothers - Mike G,
Sammy B, Afrika Babybam, and
Chris -raise the standards set by
De La for aural abstraction a par or
two, employing a Public Enemy-
style barrage of sounds and voices
layered over one another. Never has
the juxtaposition of sampling been
utilized in such a way. PE attacked
your id, forcing you to form a toler-
ance to their noise. The JBs use a
more provocative method, by creep-
ing up on you. Their music is com-
paratively non-violent, if anything.
With the ample assistance of D.J.
Red Alert in the studio, the Brothers
have produced easily the most com-
prehensive rap album to date. Of the
sixteen tracks on the record, all are
developed, thematic tracks, each of*
an independent strength, far from the
fat that insulates many of the recent
releases in rap.
There are many standouts on the
LP, including the Afrobeat/rap fu-
sion of "Sunshine," "Tribe Vibes,"
and "Good News Comin'." all stun-

sometimes typifies the genre. "The
darker the berry, the sweeter the
juice," Mike sez. Ain't it the truth.
Perfect Moment #2:
"Acknowledge Your Own History"
-KRS never said it so well. When
listening, every B-Boy should ques-
tion his Le Coq Sportifs at least for
a second, because momentarily, the
red, black and green looks infinitely*
better than the red, white and blue.
Perfect Moment #3: "J. Beez
Comin' Through" - This pick is
pretty self-indulgent, to be perfectly
honest. The "jock yourself" rap is
older than Kurtis Blow but, once
again, the method is wonderfully dif-
ferent. During the bridge, the Steve
Miller band sings melody while the
original - James Brown - chants
"the JBs," over and over again. This
is mantra to live for: "jungle/ the
brothers/ jungle/ the brothers" is at
once as exciting as any Greek
stepshow, more inspiring than a
thousand national anthems, and
easily less narcissistic than LL Cool
J's entire catalog.
Sampling-wise, the Forces of
Nature is one more step up in the
natural evolution. It's as dense, if
not more so, as 3 Feet High and Ris-
ing. Seemingly hundreds of
R&B/funk voices and grooves have
been packed into the record, and disc
guised into relative obscurity, next
to ska-flavored horns; bebop
basslines, tribal chants, sponta-
neously abrupt drum fills and sax
lines. Lyrically, references to the
rapture (term for the Second Com-
ing) abound, right next to the vin-
dicative sving "an eve for n eve. A

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