The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Thursday, November 2, 2017 — 5
AMC
COURTESY OF SACHYN MITAL
‘Walking Dead’ season 8
premiere ends with fizzle
Rick and his gang are back for
an explosive season eight premiere,
literally. Rick Grimes (Andrew
Lincoln, “Robot Chicken”) once
again manages to assemble a
detailed,
methodical
plan
to
overthrow the newest, baddest
villain introduced in season six:
Negan
(Jeffrey
Dean
Morgan,
“The Good Wife”).
Disclaimer:
I
watched
“The
Walking
Dead” from the
beginning
until
about season five.
I was hoping this
season
premiere
would recapture
my interest in the show. It turned
out to be semi-successful.
Many
members
of
Rick’s
original entourage are still around,
making the show feel familiar and
steady. However, some of them
have undergone some character
changes,
like
Father
Gabriel
(Seth Gilliam, “Teen Wolf”). The
previously goody-two-shoes pastor
has shown his darker side — one
suited up in armor, a machine
gun and a willingness to kill he
didn’t have before. He devolves,
which reveals a terrifying truth:
Even a pastor is capable of turning
to murder. This example of
character development is strangely
refreshing, and it elevates the
quality of the show, somehow
making it relatable in a completely
unrelatable world.
Another
fascinating
feature
of the show is how it tends to
cut to many different scenes, yet
always seems to keep the storyline
coherent. It will bounce from
Rick, to his son Carl (Chandler
Riggs,
“Robot
Chicken”),
to
Daryl’s (Norman Reedus, “Robot
Chicken”) attacks on many of the
Survivors. Instead of confusing the
viewer, it keeps them on their toes
and draws in their interest.
Although the main plotline is
about
Rick
and his group’s
vendetta
against
Negan’s group
called
the
Survivors,
there are many
subplots
that
reveal
heart,
grit, sacrifice,
vulnerability
and loyalty. In a world gone to
hell, the writers still give these
characters
complex,
intricate
values that can’t be discerned into
simply good or evil. Gabriel saves
the head of the Hilltop Colony,
even though the man essentially
threatened to kill him. Carl delivers
canned food to a stranger that
could be a potential danger. Negan
has the chance to surrender but
doesn’t out of pride.
To all the viewers out there,
can we just talk about this tiger?
King
Ezekiel
(Khary
Payton,
“Teen Titans Go”) has a pet tiger,
Shiva. I’m so confused as to how.
What does she eat? How does she
behave? Where did he even get her?
How has she not eaten the entire
cast yet? For a multidimensional
show, there are some stretches that
are just too extraneous.
Throughout the episode, many
scenes are a close up of Rick’s face.
His eyes are bright blue, contrasted
against his red, puffy eyelids. His
face is drenched in sweat, and
he appears to be looking off into
something far in the distance. The
director randomly cuts to this
scene many times. Although the
scene itself appears random, Rick’s
face shows raw emotion and pain,
which grants Lincoln an “A” in my
book. This scene is used as a break
between all of the high intensity
drama and offers the viewer an
insight to Rick’s true feelings —
ones of fear and agony.
In almost every scene, there
is almost always a hint of music
playing
in
the
background.
Whether it’s strong or mild, it
tends to keep the dialogue even
more dramatic or serious without
overdoing it. The light piano riffs
always succeed in creating a sense
of nervousness whenever there is a
walker around: is this person going
to die right now?
The biggest problem with this
episode was the ending — there
was absolutely no cliffhanger. For
a show famous for its unnerving,
jaw
dropping,
goosebump-
worthy endings, it simply didn’t
deliver. Instead, it ended in with
an unrealistic, utopian dream of
Rick’s that gave viewers a warm
and fuzzy feeling, too foreign for
this show.
I may have taken a break from
“The Walking Dead” but overall,
the season premiere proved why
this show is back for its eighth
season. The drama, horror and
character
developments
work
together to generate a cohesive
theme.
OLIVIA ASIMAKIS
For the Daily
“The Walking
Dead”
Season 8 premiere
AMC
Sundays at 9 p.m.
In
2015,
singer-songwriter
Julien Baker released Sprained
Ankle. Filled with a hushed
tenderness, her first studio album
tiptoed in shadows. Yet, despite the
uniformity of its muted restraint,
the album was distinct in its humble
reverence. The quavering delicacy
of Baker’s voice stripped songs like
“Vessels” and “Everybody Does”
to
their
bare
bones.
Rattling
skeletons
in
the closet, the
haunting
of
Sprained Ankle
left a lingering
impact.
Now,
nearly
two
years
later,
Baker
has
released Turn Out the Lights.
The LP fills in the shaky outline
of Sprained Ankle with weighty
piano and unflinching vocals; the
masterpiece that is left behind
blooms in full color. In Turn
Out The Lights, Baker professes
secrets, revelations about anything
from past failed relationships to
God, with an ache that bruises.
The
beginning
of
the
album’s opening track, “Over,”
is surprising. Instead of the
traditional quiet hum of Baker’s
guitar, an audio narrative unfolds:
a door creaks open to welcome
shuffling footsteps that rattle
unseen floorboards; the intimate
clatter of someone entering an
empty room builds a sense of
privacy. As listeners, we are the
guests in her home, allowed to
trespass on her solitude, voyeurs to
her introspective melancholy.
The
chronicle
in
“Over”
continues:
a
piano
boldly
commences, followed by the sigh
of backing instrumentals. No
vocals breach the crescendoing
climb of orchestral harmonies that
eventually tapers out and smoothly
transitions
into
the first verse of
“Appointments.”
Baker’s murmured
“I’m
staying
in
tonight / I won’t
stop
you
from
leaving / I know
that I’m not what
you wanted / Am I?” is a gossamer
layer over subdued background
harmonies.
Without warning there is an
exoneration; within the last few
minutes of the song, Baker delivers
the chorus in a half-yell. The once
nearly indistinguishable piano is
now an uproar of crashing chords.
“Turn Out the Lights” follows
a similar pattern. The first few
verses are like sheer curtains that
dance on the edge of subconscious,
a soft lull that breaks when Baker
does. The cathartic howl of “When
I turn out the lights / there’s no
one left / between myself and me”
reveals the tension and turmoil
lying hidden beneath Baker’s
initial measured composure.
Julien Baker is defiant in a way
that was rarely seen on Sprained
Ankle. Her emotive declarations
are unapologetic. The profession
of “the harder I swim, the faster I
sink” in “Sour Breath” rasps with a
grating desperation. The question
of “then why, then why, then why
/ then why not me?” in “Happy to
Be Here” is a frustrated appeal that
intensifies with every repetition.
There is a focus on her struggle
with mental health: a loss of
purpose and a resulting slip into
substance abuse. Songs like “Sour
Breath” and “Everything That
Helps You Sleep” reveal Baker’s
own past experiences, bluntly
detailing toxic relationships and
insomnia wrapped up in layers
of religious iconography — an
interpersonal struggle between her
Christian faith and the things she
has done that she views as sinful.
There is no holding back on Turn
Out the Lights. The unrelenting
anguish is hard not to drown in,
but it’s a surprisingly easy album
to listen to from beginning to end.
Throughout
it
all,
the
consistency of the underlying
piano and overarching motifs —
stitched together by Baker’s voice
as it fluctuates between soothing
and
heartbreaking
—
creates
an effortless progression; every
song feeds into the next. It’s the
ceaseless wave of Julien Baker’s
most private confessions.
SHIMA SADAGHIYANI
Daily Arts Writer
Julien Baker’s latest is
a portrait of heartbreak
ALBUM REVIEW
TV REVIEW
Turn Out The
Lights
Julien Baker
Matador
The term “We were eight years
in power” signifies immediate
connotations.
Historically,
it refers to the eight years of
Reconstruction
that
occurred
before white supremacy firmly
reasserted itself in the South. In his
new book, “We Were Eight Years
in Power: An American Tragedy,”
Ta-Nehisi Coates adapts it as a way
of examining the eight years of
Barack Obama’s presidency.
The framework within which
“We Were Eight Years in Power”
operates is a series of eight essays in
chronological order, all originally
published in The Atlantic, tracing
recent American history through
Obama’s
initial
campaign
to
the ultimate election of Donald
Trump. The question one starts the
book with is, How did we get here?
What led to Trump’s presidency?
The sense is that the 2016 election
will be the ultimate “climax” of the
book, so to speak, that Trump’s
victory is the “American tragedy”
to which the title is referring.
This both is and isn’t true. All
in all, the focus of the book is
surprisingly independent of the
topic of Trump. For the majority
of it, the 2016 election comes into
play only tangentially. The true
“American tragedy” that takes
shape over the course of the book
doesn’t take the form of one man;
rather, one gets the sense that it is
really our country’s whole history
that has been, and continues to be,
the tragedy.
A big part of this is due to the
historical depth and extraordinary
span of the book. The focus of
many parts reaches back to the
Civil War and even beyond, to the
founding of this country itself. His
analysis of various aspects of race
bring in well-known figures like
Abraham Lincoln and Frederick
Douglass, but also — equally
often, if not more so — names that
might be less commonplace in
households and history books, like
Margaret Garner and Ida B. Wells.
Every single subject he comes
across, Coates treats with dignity,
respect and complexity. The book’s
approach seems to be that there is
no story not worth telling.
The result is a book that
feels rich, natural and wholly
comprehensive. Every article is
extremely well researched, and
yet Coates’s eloquence leaves
the reader with the impression
that he knew it all to begin with.
These facts and stories were just
at his fingertips, and because we
are reading his work, they are at
ours. He effectively makes things
as easy as he can for the reader, at
least in terms of comprehension.
This is particularly impressive
because the subject matter itself
is in no way easy. In “We Were
Eight Years in Power,” Coates
establishes a pattern of explaining
an argument as fully and fairly
as
possible,
then
challenging
it at every turn in order to see
whether or not it holds up to
scrutiny. He does this through a
wide array of lenses and topics,
including the black conservatism
of Bill Cosby, the American-ness
of Michelle Obama, the firing of
Shirley Sherrod, the Civil War, the
Contract Buyers League, hip hop,
the murder of Trayvon Martin
and so much more. The web that
Coates spends the book spinning is
not only historically far-reaching;
it also digs deep into the fabric of
American culture, entertainment
and class.
Some of the essays are already
more well-known than others —
“The Case for Reparations,” for
instance, and “Fear of a Black
President.” But even these are
well worth revisiting within the
context that Coates sets up in the
book. When all of these essays
are combined with Coates’s added
notes, they form a complete, and
profoundly
articulated,
image
of Obama’s presidency and the
layered context surrounding it.
“We Were Eight Years in Power”
is essential reading for anyone
seeking
to
better
understand
the integral place of race within
America, from one of the most
eloquent masters of essay-form
writing today.
LAURA DZUBAY
Daily Arts Writer
Laith al-Saadi performing
at the Michigan Theater
Finalist on NBC’s “The Voice,”
Ann Arbor native and University
of Michigan alum Laith Al-Saadi
returns to his home-town for one
rockin’ concert at the Michigan
Theater.
Armed
with
a
degree
from
the University of
Michigan in jazz
guitar
and
bass,
and an incredible
voice
and
vocal
growl,
Al-Saadi
is
a
powerhouse
of a vocalist and a
certified master of the guitar.
“We’re gonna have a blast over
the evening,” Al-Saadi said in an
interview with The Daily. The
concert will feature special guest
performers made up of Al-Saadi’s
long-time friends: Ann Arbor blues
favorite Al Hill and the funky
METERS’s Brian Stoltz. On top of
that, the audience should be ready
for “tributes and surprises.”
Throughout his career, Al-Saadi
has shared the stage with many
big names like Taj Mahal, Luther
Alison, Buddy Guy, Son Seals, Gregg
Allman and B.B. King. In addition to
that, major retailer and influential
voice in the guitar community,
Guitar Center, named Al-Saadi “one
of the top four blues guitarists in the
United States.”
More than just being an iconic
Ann Arbor venue, the Michigan
Theater holds sentimental value for
Al-Saadi.
“I grew up
in Ann Arbor,
and
my
first
professional
theatre
gigs
when I was a
kid were there.”
He performed in
many shows at
the theater and
even “graduated from high school
on (its) stage.” When Al-Saadi
returned from “The Voice,” the
Michigan Theater was the venue
for
his
homecoming
concert.
This will be Al-Saadi’s second
time performing at the Michigan
Theater since returning last year.
Before his time on the show,
Al-Saadi performed 300 nights
annually in Ann Arbor over the
course of 20 years, prompting The
Ann Arbor News to name him
“the hardest working man in Ann
Arbor showbusiness.” It was his
constant dedication and talent that
captured the attention of “The
Voice” producers, who gave him a
VIP audition for the show.
Al-Saadi started off strong with
his blind audition, performing “The
Letter” by Joe Cocker. As of October
31st, 2017 the video has been viewed
almost 6 million times on YouTube.
He’s proud to have stayed true
to his style and character while
on the show, performing classics
like “With a Little Help from my
Friends,” “The Thrill is Gone” and
“All Along the Watchtower.”
Now that he’s no longer on
the show, this means his fanbase
expects to hear the songs that he
loves to perform.
According
to
Al-Saadi,
his
time on “The Voice,” “couldn’t
have turned out better,” because
it helped him gain national and
international exposure by making it
all the way to the final round, while
avoiding being tied to a contract
that would’ve come from placing
first. This gave him the freedom
to perform where and what he
wanted.
Now, Al-Saadi is excited to be
returning to the Michigan Theater
to celebrate his 40th Birthday Bash
where he and the audience are
“gonna jam out all night.”
JACOB EMERY
For the Daily
“Laith al-Saadi’s
40th Birthday Bash”
Michigan Theater
November 3rd @ 8 p.m
$25 - $60
COMMUNITY CULTURE PREVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
‘We Were Eight Years in
Power’ profound, essential