Brandon Scott Gorrell: Blogosphere Poet
By Michael Hessel-Mial
Posted in Sound & Vision | 2 Comments
Dear Poetry: Welcome to the 21st Century. Brandon Scott Gorrell, among the first writers to make his name entirely through Internet publication, has made the leap to publishing with his first book of poems, care of Muumuu House. Gorrell’s first book of poems, “During My Nervous Breakdown I Want to Have a Biographer Present,” compiles 37 poems published across the blogosphere into something incredibly current.
If Gorrell’s poems come across sounding, well, apathetic, it’s because apathy (and a healthy dose of existential despair) is his muse. If you’ve ever spent a listless hour checking the same four Web sites over and over again, you will probably find something in this poetry that feels familiar. Like the pangs of love that have led …
Smooth—that’s the way the Jazzman drives. The only thing smoother than his driving is the music, always streaming from his trusty stereo. And that’s what’s so cool about it, man. Gliding around corners, slipping between lanes, the Jazzman is Jazz. His bus has a pulse, riding the rhythm of the city to a backdrop of blue notes. When you take a ride with the Jazzman, you don’t just listen to jazz, you become a part of it.
The Chambermaids are the kind of band whose music sounds a hell of a lot simpler than it really is on the first few listens. To wit: their new EP, Down in the Berries, sounds like 17 minutes of Sonic Youth-lovin’, 90s-rock revivalism on first blush. Repeated listens reveal a bit more nuance, though. Once you get past dual-channel guitar solos and garage-rock riffs, you’ll find a talented rhythm section that knows how to flip the switch instantly from dub-inflected groove to straight-ahead pounding and a Futureheads-like use of vocal harmonies to add an ethereal layer to otherwise straightforward songs. 
The aptly titled Bromst, Dan Deacon’s newest album seems to bring together exactly what the title implies. Part new sound, part old, Dan Deacon took Bromst in a somewhat new direction, while largely adhering to his old standbys of crazy and absurd. The songs are as packed with noise as ever, while Deacon distorts his voice through out the background like some sort of acid-tripping, cat-stuck-in-engine sound that I couldn’t possibly describe any better. 
It is no question that Peter, Bjorn, and John is one of the most refreshing bands to come along in some time. Just as the fire is dying down from their last mainstream effort Writer’s Block, the Swedish pop trio has returned with Living Thing.
Unlike the recent regeneration of old-man clout in the music industry (Morrisey! Leonard Cohen! Yes, they’re still alive.), the film industry has been experiencing something a little different. We might call it the Nicolas Cage Phenomenon: a dirty rash of films characterized by disaster, ancient talismans, and men sporting long, formless hairdos that try to combat receding hairlines. That is to say, a bunch of middle-aged actors with exhaustive repertoires, such as Nicolas Cage and Tom Hanks, have been turning out increasingly successful but mediocre films. 
