Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

Crushing On

#MusicMonday: “I Can’t Wait” – Nu Shooz

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I have been stumped about a song for over a year.

Does that sentence almost defy belief? In this age of internet searches and mobile devices and song-identifying apps we are supposed to be able to find any song at any time. Do you remember the old way of doing things? I can recall more than one instance of standing next to my mother at a record store as she physically hummed a song to a clerk in the hopes they could identify it for her.

My problem? My song didn’t have any words. Or, at least, I’ve never really noticed the words before. It has this digitized “oh oh oh” vocoder riff that gets easily stuck in my head, but that’s all I knew about it. That, and that it sounded similar enough to the much more frequently-heard “Let the Music Play” that I freak out about it at least once a week in the car.

Figuring out the name of this song has become one of my top ten missions in life, right beside trying to go a week without buying anything from Amazon. I sing it to people constantly. On elevators, even. No one ever seems to know what I’m talking about. I don’t know a long enough snippet to identify it with a music app. I have nothing to go on.

Which brings us to Friday night.

It is almost midnight, and I am driving E and I home from The Muppets. It should be pointed out that this is only my fourth time ever driving in New Jersey, and I might be feeling a little bit tense.

The song comes on the radio just as I clear the toll plaza for the Ben Franklin Bridge. I have previously driven through a toll plaza exactly twice, and their lack of defined lanes completely freakw me out.

The opening vocoder riff chimes as I pull away from the toll, navigating through the funnel of madness that is the post-toll lanelessness. The singer begins to sing lyrics. Words! I must remember words! I start repeating them to myself, but they are not sinking in because the bridge is down to two westbound lanes, which renders the space between me and a concrete divider in the middle to be about the size of a breadbox. It requires every spare synapse to keep the car moving forward in one piece.

Dr. Teeth & The Electric Mayhem. Not pictured: my wife.

The vocals continue. I try repeating one phrase over and over like a mantra, but as my attention strays from the road I veer uncomfortably close to the car on our right.

“Elise,” I call over to the passenger seat, “I need you to help me remember the words. Any words.”

I do not risk a glance to my right. E had a not-small quantity of Jack Daniels at the movie and for all intents and purposes turned into a Muppet. I am riding in the car with a member of Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem. This is probably for the best, as completely sober I’m sure she would have reached across to take the wheel from me at this point.

“Hmm?” she queries, bopping along to the music not unlike a guitar-playing puppet made out of high quality felt.

“Try to remember the words. Any words. Three words. Please.”

“Sure,” she said, still bopping.

##

Flash forward to our arrival at home (or maybe the next day?). I sat down at the coffee table and loaded Google, ready to finally reveal the identity of my stymying secret song. I called to E, who was puttering around in the kitchen.

“Honey, what where the words to the song?”

“Hmm?” she queried, peeking her head into the living room.

“You know, the song from the car, ‘Oh oh oh OH oh oh ohoh.’ What were the words?”

“Oh, um… something about a door.”

“A door.”

“Yes,” she replied, sounding very certain.

“Were they opening a door? Perhaps going through the door?”

“Possibly.”

“Possibly which?” I asked, grasping for any further hint she could provide.

“There was definitely a door.”

Feel free to Google the terms 80s, door, lyrics, and “oh oh oh oh oh oh oh.” Go ahead, I’ll wait here.

No, “I Can’t Wait” by Nu Shooz is not one of the early results. I sprawled across the couch in resignation. I had come so close to solving my musical riddle, only to be foiled by my uncertain driving and E’s being a Jim Henson creation.

Yet, here we are, rocking out to “I Can’t Wait” thanks to the magic of YouTube.

How did I figure it out? Though I did not come away with any words, I did manage to acquire an indelible memory of the bassline. This morning I caught the elevator with one of my partners in insanity and music-loving, MK.

I told her about my dilemma, and when we reached our neighboring desks, I turned to her. “Okay, MK, this is really serious. You have to help me figure out this song.”

“I’m ready,” she said, fixing me with a steely stare.

I began to sing my newly recollected bassline. “Bum buh ba, bum ba, BUM ba … Bum buh ba, bum ba, BUM ba.”

MK paused for nary a second before singing the hook in reply, “Oh oh oh OH oh oh ohoh.” We had created an office acappella group worthy of televised competition. We were breaking down some hot 80s jams.

MK interrupted her vocoder imitation for a second, “Oh, I totally know this one!”

I took a breath between fat bass beats, “What’s it called?!”

My boss emerged from her office just as our neighbor Chris poked his head over the cube wall.

“It’s called ‘I Can’t Wait,'” they shouted in unison, unphased by our suddenly convened doo wop duo. Then they returned to their desks without batting an eye, as this was no more unusual than our semi-weekly Tuesday afternoon Cher karaoke hour.

“Well,” I turned to MK, grinning a satisfied grin, “that settles that.”

Now I have a few extra synapses to rub together for other purposes.

#MusicMonday: “If I Could Turn Back Time” – Cher

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I assume everyone has a list of songs they enjoy breaking out into in the middle of the office, a crowded street, or a shopping mall.

No? Just me?

Anyway, very close to the top of said list is “If I Could Turn Back Time.” I spontaenously start singing it at rehearsal, between meetings, and while just walking around.

With her half-century-spanning history of charted singles, it’s strange that Cher is an artist more known for her image than her songs, yet I’d wager the average person around my age would likely only be able to sing along to the following trio:

  • “I Got You Babe”
  • “If I Could Turn Back Time”
  • “Believe”

    Oh, and the song from Mermaids!

    Even forgetting about the video of Cher, her ass, and a ship full of actual sea men that was briefly banned by MTV, the Diane Warren-penned “Turn Back Time” might be her best tune. It very carefully straddles the line of pop and rock – splitting the difference between synthesizers and a banshee howl that splits Cher’s voice at the back of her throat.

    (Also, I’ve always loved how it starts with a tease of the chorus before those almost vestigial verses. Clearly it’s all about the chorus!)

    Plus that awesome key change!

    I’m sure you’ll be singing it in your head tomorrow. I dare you to sing it out loud!

    • Crushing On: SingleCut Guitar Editor

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    E and I just bought a new couch.

    We spent just one day of shopping. We had dozens of styles to choose from, over a hundred fabrics, different kinds of legs! While we didn’t get the exact couch in my head, we wound up with one that fit our life perfectly.

    Last summer I decided I wanted a blue bass.

    Immediately, my choices were limited. Some basses I liked didn’t come in blue, so they were out. Even the ones in blue were the wrong shade, or had hideous pick-guards, or a pickup configuration I didn’t like. I wound up with a bass I like, but I mostly bought it because it was the only one that was the right blue within a thousand dollars of my price range.

    It’s the same thing with acoustic guitars. I only like finished tops and cutaways. No Martins for me! And, if I want to stay away from bridge-pins, which I haven’t had to deal with for five years, my only choice is staying with Breedlove.

    It begs the question: why? Our couch was only a fifth as much as the high end acoustics, and a hell of a lot bigger. Why can’t I get what I want in the form of a guitar?

    Enter Frank Montag’s Single Cut Guitar Editor. Montag has loaded both the Gibson Les Paul (SC) and SG bodies into a Flash editor that can tweak every option. Colors, woods, pickups, cutaway and bridge style, and everything else.

    When someone shared the link with me I immediately designed my perfect pink, semi-hollow, sharp cutaway Les Paul. Do you know the only pink Les Paul out there right now is a Twisted Sister Model? Seriously. Yet, here was my dream guitar on screen, exactly as I saw it in my head.

    I assumed there would be a big “BUY” button at the end of the design process, followed by a dollar sign and several zeroes. I was ready to start saving!

    There was no buy button. Montag’s tool is purely a dream engine.

    Why? Why can’t a big-name guitar manufacturer or small luthier shop put together this tool for real? Why can’t I have my pink Les Paul and my pinless bridge Taylor, and you your polka dotted banana yellow SG or whatever it is that you want?

    I suppose most guitarists care more about sound then style up until they’re rich rock stars, and then world is your SingleCut Guitar Editor.

    Until then, have fun with the Flash version.

    Crushing On: RedCo Audio

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    RedCo Audio saved my studio, my sanity, and my bank account. If you are wiring a studio, a patch bay, a home theatre, or any other kind of DIY multimedia project you should buy your cables exclusively from RedCo.

    Is that a ringing enough endorsement?

    Let’s backtrack for a second. In every occupation, hobby, or pastime there are hidden costs that do not reveal themselves until you are in too deep to avoid them.

    Well, maybe not entirely hidden, but at least not obvious. When you buy a new photo printer, you know it will need paper and ink, but you aren’t always thinking about how expensive those glossy papers and photo inks will be, and how you might need a new card reader for all your massive files.

    The same goes for any musical hobby. You assume your big expenditures will be your instrument, amplification, and various tone devices – and wow that is already a lot to expend, let me tell you. Instead of equipping myself to play bass from scratch in the last 12 months I could have put a down payment on a brand new car or a timeshare.

    Eventually you get there. I did, and I am historically terrified of electric rock signal chain technology. I’d prefer something lower-fi, like a stick tied to a washtub. But I persevered – I got my ideal instrument and signal chain set up in my custom home studio, only to realize I didn’t have enough cables, and when I looked them up online I found that a 2ft patch cable costs THIRTY DOLLARS.

    WHY WOULD THAT BE?

    This actually looks pretty elegant, as washtub basses go.

    I have learned my lesson from cheap cables that crap out every six months. I now understand that the cheapest option will always cost you double in the long run. After nearly falling out of my chair from seeing how much the patch cable was I hesitantly searched for the 35ft XLR I needed from high-end brands like Mogami and Monster…

    …all the blood rushed from my face. I almost fell out of my chair.

    I was going to have to drain my entire savings account to cable my studio. Not only that, but the cables weren’t even what I needed! In one case I needed a 35ft, not 50ft, and right angle TS connector, not straight TRS – but that didn’t exist. I’d be spending a mint on the wrong options!

    Enter RedCo Audio. They are a small company in Connecticut specializing in hand-made custom cables. And, not just custom lengths. You can pick everything from the gauge of the cable down to the angle of the connection. They can make audio cables, coax connections, and custom multi-channel snakes. They have every option you could every imagine, including the very same materials used by Mogami and other boutique brands.

    A 50ft Mogami studio-quality XLR? $110 list price. A 50ft RedCo XLR with the same materials? $55. That doesn’t even account for the fact that you might only need 45ft, and wouldn’t mind a lighter cable gauge. (New price? $38)

    A $300 spend at RedCo got me a dozen new cables totaling over 250 feet, which would have cost more than $1000 to buy retail. I’ll admit, it was super-confusing to pick all the right cables and connectors, but I left notes in each order about what I planned to use the cable for and RedCo gave me an unexpected personal call to recommend a few changes in my order, which they made for no additional cost.

    Two weeks later, I had a box of brand new custom cables on my doorstep, each the perfect solution to a need in my home studio.

    I love RedCo Audio. Love love love. I will never in my life buy studio cable anywhere else, and I’ll always get exactly what I need.

    DC New 52 Review: I, Vampire #1

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    Comics have been cashing on on vampires since long before Twilight, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or even Interview with the Vampire.

    When interest in super-hero comics began to decline after World War II (and was further assaulted by Frederick Wertham) horror magazines were part of what kept the medium alive. Even after horror comics were censured by the Comics Code, classic monsters still turned up in comic plots.

    Marvel’s 1970s title Tomb of Dracula was a mammoth soap operatic battle between Dracula and a bevy of would-be slayers. The 90s brought indie babe Vampirella to popularity, an Elvira-esque busty vampiress.

    Marvel and DC have been dipping their toes back into blood for the past few years to see if the time is right to re-capitalize on vampire stories, but neither has quite struck gold. Has the fanged moment passed, in favor of the suddenly hip zombie movement of the past few years? Who knows, but DC and Marvel are both launching a new vampire ongoing this fall to find out.

    I, Vampire

    Written by Joshua Hale Fialkov, art by Andrea Sorrentino

    Rating: 3.5 of 5 – Great

    In a Line: “Normally I’d lock you away somewhere until I could find your sire. But, well, y’know…”

    #140char Review: I Vampire #1, a bitter Twilight divorce tracks bad romance between noble vamp & lover who wants to consume the world. Unexpectedly arresting

    CK Says: Consider it.

    I, Vampire #1 is like Twilight written by Anne Rice, disposing of the sappy pursuit of undead teenage love and focusing on the eventual bitter fallout – and how the results can be deadly in the form of a 400-year-old scorned lover who wants to take back the night (and the entire human race) from a plague of superhero do-gooders.

    I know that vampires aren’t for everyone, and even the people they ARE for might be a little tired of them after the past few years. That doesn’t change the fact that Joshua Hale Fialkov delivers on both gore and romance as he kickstarts this story from square one.

    We get modern day vamp-on-vamp violence of race-traitor Andrew as his vampire slaying is narrated by his recent break with lover Mary. Andrew and Mary have already done the star-crossed thing, and the immortal lovers thing, and now they’re at the point of an ideological divide. Their debate? If you could be a young beautiful superhuman every night for the rest of your life would you content yourself with drinking cow’s blood and working the night shift forever, or would you rather try to take over the world from the masked men who have brightened its corners?

    Yeah, it’s a little more complicated than your typical lover’s quarrel, and it has terrifying ramifications for the warm-blooded population of America.

    Try to get past the twinkling nearly-nude hot bodies on the cover, which are probably keeping some readers who would dig this title at a distance. The interior art is the ash-colored world of a war comic or Walking Dead, bringing a bombed-out look to Boston at night – where the rubble is a heap of discarded bodies. Despite the loverly narration, we get hints that Andrew is going to be an acerbic post-Whedon anti-hero as he apologizes to fresh vamps for staking them.

    The conversational narration has some moments of melodrama, but I felt like they were defused by the illustrations they hovered over. I’m duly impressed with artist Andrea Sorrentino. In the present we have Andrew’s grim vampire hunt through a tangle of limbs. In the past we have a romantic moonlit night that bears the same heavy shadows as the terrifying street scene. Sorrentino likes to draw some horror and revenge into love, Lady Gaga style.

    I wasn’t expecting much from this fanged title in DC’s relaunch, but it wound up as one of my favorite books. Whether it’s superheroes or vampires, there is delight in finding a fresh spin on an old story, and I think Fialkov and Sorrentino succeed in this first issue. Yes, reluctant vampires and blood-thirsty lovers have been done before, but not in a superhero universe and not with this tone. It will be interesting to see where they head without the narrative frame they use to keep this one standing, but this bad romance is worth a read.