Somersaults – deathcrash

Sometimes, the bands I know nothing about wind up being more exciting than those I highly anticipate. This is just a gem of a slow-core record, heavy but with a strong hint of lo-fi. The title track in particular sticks out as one I will be belting out on a nighttime drive at least once this year. I will need to spend more time with the lyrics, but I already feel the emotional pull after only a handful of listens. It’s already on my list to revisit for the year, which makes four albums in two months, already outpacing last year.

If I Had Legs I'd Kick You (2025)

Continuing more of my Oscar explorations, and this had me thinking about it long after it was over. The acting blew me away. It was stressful and beautiful, or in other words, lifelike. Of course, Rose Byrne's performance is award-worthy, but I was also stunned by the two actors working outside their normal expected ranges (Conan and A$AP Rocky). I was impressed with some stylistic decisions as well; Linda's is the only character's face you see for the first several minutes of the film, and it's a tight shot, foreshadowing how the ensuing events are going to swallow her whole. Conversely, withholding the daughter's face until the closing sequence received an audible gasp from me.

Happy Death Day 2U (2019)

This was another post-Valentines horror watch for us, and it was fun. I remembered very little from the first one, but that turned out not to matter all that much. The plot to this one was needlessly convoluted—jumping into alternate dimensions—but that also didn’t matter. It was enjoyable for what it was, fairly low-stakes for a horror movie. They tried to inject some finality to it as the main character was somehow running out of resets to the day, but that didn’t get in the way of the action. The story was also unexpectedly emotional, creating a choice for the main character between the love of her life in one universe and the return of her mom in the other. I think I said it after the first film, but I am so glad the Groundhog Day schtick hasn’t been completely overdone. We’ve got this, Palm Springs, and that’s pretty much it. Original ideas should stay original!

The True True Story of Raja the Gullible (and His Mother) - Rabih Alameddine

Huh, two consecutive books involving adult characters and the relationships with their mothers. This was a coincidence—honestly!—even if it would be reasonable to assume otherwise. Actually, the real reason I picked it up was, of course, following up on awards season. I see why this won the National Book Award. It is a personal journey through multiple eras of Lebanese history, about which I knew nothing. I always appreciate a story set over different time periods, and a personal journey leading through generations is a good way for me, a reader with no prior experience or understanding, to get a better sense of another culture. I really enjoyed the organization of this story. It began in reverse chronological order, centering with a hundred pages detailing situation similar to the film, Room, which was a point of origin for the character, before returning forward in time. This was an effective and comprehensible way of presenting both the character's and the country's history.

Cupid & Psyche 85 – Scritti Politti

The 80s are probably my least-versed decade in music, and I definitely made my share of uneducated comments about the common music styles way back in high school, but I’ve grown since then. I now have an appreciation for and understanding of the broader 80s pop scene, and this week’s listen, courtesy of Pitchfork’s weekly Sunday Review, fits squarely into that sentiment. I feel particularly indebted to the review for highlighting the other musical influences heard in this record. The reggae is immediately obvious, of course, but I had forgotten Scritti Politti was rooted in punk. I read Rip It Up and Start Again, but not since grad school. Going back and checking out some of their earlier punk tracks gave a greater context to this record. At times sounding like Prince (though I would never go that far!), this is a perfect example of highly-produced electro-pop that defined the decade. I likely would have been turned off by this in high school, and I would have been wrong.

Heart Eyes (2025)

What better time of year to settle in with a kitschy horror movie set on Valentine’s Day? The plot was inane, and the acting was cheesy, but the movie was still fun! A mostly predictable sequence of events with transparent villains and one or two jumpy moments. As to be expected, given the setting, there was a healthy dose of romantic comedy. Also, for better or worse, I will never be able to set this apart from the Scream franchise, based on both who was in the living room and who was on the screen. A lovely way to spend an evening, and I envision doing pretty much the same thing for the inevitable sequel.

Halo 2: Anniversary (Xbox One)

My memories of my first time playing through Halo 2 are hazy, as I was a pre-teen, but some moments do slip through. Being able to carry two weapons simultaneously. Playing as the enemy species for the first time. Encountering an entirely new enemy in the brutes. What I also recall, though, is the sense of anticipation to getting a sequel to what, at the time, had to be my favorite-ever video game. I also remember the slight uneasiness when it didn’t capture me the same way the first one did, surely not my first time being let down by a sequel in media, but one of the first I can bring to mind. The fact that it ended in a singular boss fight, without a climactic chase sequence, felt like a letdown then, and the franchise returned to an escape with its follow-up. While I was too young to be following game reviews and criticism, it seems like that was a commonly expressed sentiment around the game. Now, the online multiplayer aspect is recognized as a paradigm shift, and I can attest to that being formative for me as well. 

All of that said, with the 20-year wave of nostalgia cresting right now, I wanted to replay the campaign even if I was basically experiencing it fresh. The Anniversary re-release, as it is presented in the Master Chief Collection, is an excellent product, and the way to play it today. The entire game, including its cutscenes, is redone in a way that feels totally modern. And because I was coming to it nostalgically, I found myself mashing the Select button to alternate between original Xbox and Xbox One graphics multiple times every level. The boss finale does still seem anti-climactic, but not enough to detract from the totality of the game. A wonderfully tight experience, only whetting my appetite for more from the Halo universe, not to mention more romanticizing of the original Xbox.

Bell's Two Hearted Ale and Founders Centennial IPA

I've long maintained Bell's Two Hearted Ale is the finest beer, or at least my favorite. It's full in taste, plenty of hops, but not excessively heavy. The label is beautiful and makes me think of Nick Adams. Plus, it's from Michigan. I've had dozens of them over the course of my adult life, and I will always order it when I see it on a menu and nothing else jumps out at me. Imagine my slow realization as I made the connection that the design shares a curious similarity, at least in color scheme, to Founders Centennial IPA. Also delicious, also hoppy (in fact, using the same exact variety of hops as my beloved Two Hearted, as I later learned), and also from my beloved Michigan. Now, I have not had this beer near as often; their All Day session IPA is more of my go-to option. But when I realized they shared similar characteristics, according to experts who taste such things, I had to do a blind taste test. My conclusion? My taste buds are still non-functional. Sipped from the can, I preferred Bell's. Sipped from a tasting glass, it was Founders. What struck me seeing them side-by-side was how red the Centennial was. I've always thought Two Hearted is a beautiful pour, but it literally pales in comparison. Evidently, this did not affect the taste, however, as I had mixed results, which admittedly detract from my credibility in declaring a favorite. All said, I can't go wrong with either one.

COLD 2 THE TOUCH – Angel Du$t

After being slightly disappointed with the last Angel Du$t album (but loving those before that), I didn’t know what to expect here. I should have set my hopes somewhat high, though. “The Beat” was my first- or second-favorite song of 2025, easily one of my most played, and the experience of seeing it live landed perfectly. This album is tremendous. At 26 minutes, it’s their most compact release in ten years, but they pack in so much. The linchpin of the whole thing is near the midpoint, the song “DU$T” begins with an acoustic ballad before violently shifting into a breakdown eighty seconds into the song. This is a showcase of their immense range. Closing with the aforementioned “The Beat” was an unexpected choice, when I first read the track list, but it made sense in practice. It makes me think of walking out into the parking lot, among a dispersing crowd, and wandering back to my car after seeing a transcendent show. Two disparate thoughts, I wish the album continued on from there, but also, it’s perfect that it doesn’t.

I’m Not a Robot (2023)

As I watch through Oscar movies for this year, it is painfully obvious how many I missed from previous years. With that in mind, I watched last year’s winner for best live-action short. This was a well-made short with a serviceable science fiction story, sort of a modern version of Twilight Zone. As realization begins to dawn on the main character and panic sets in, the mood is decidedly upsetting, even if the paranoia was a little rushed. The video call between the main character and her partner was an exercise in tension, and I was urging one or the other to say something that would explain it all away. The ending sequence atop the parking garage was assembled particularly well. Not so much in the way the events transpired, which were mostly as expected, but rather how it was presented. I was so engrossed with how it was going to resolve that I gasped out loud when the credits started to crawl across the screen.

AEW Dynamite (2/11/2026)

I don’t often have the time to watch full wrestling shows anymore, but I try to keep up with the must-see matches at the very least, and this week’s Dynamite had two of them. First up was the newly added Tommaso Ciampa against Mark Fletcher. The heat for this match was unreal, especially for a TV match, and not even a main event at that. The plant on the steps was brutal, and the crowd was white hot from then on. The ending was somewhat telegraphed for how often commentary talked about the Australia show next week and the possibility of Fletcher returning home as champion, but that didn’t stop every near-fall from feeling meaningful. Ciampa kicking out of a brain-buster and looking blankly ahead while Fletcher cradled him in disbelief was perfect imagery.

Then, I skipped ahead to the end of the show to watch the strap match between Kris Statlander and the “toxic spider,” Thekla. Strap matches are rare enough they still hold some novelty for me. Add in a healthy amount of blood, and this was a looker. I quite liked Thekla going into her spider pose, only to be yanked out by a quick yank on the strap from Kris. It was short, it was violent, it was excellent.

PlayTime (1967)

This was a new-to-me Criterion watch, and as usual, I went in blind. This movie was hilarious. I was wondering as I watched it, what effect Tati must have had on the Pythons, and then I saw Terry Jones in a featurette on the Criterion release, a perfect coincidence. Monsieur Hulot was not quite bumbling, but there was a certain slapstick quality to the whole thing. The American travelers were equally colorful in their gaudiness. The Paris as depicted was nothing but stark, modernist buildings, made funnier by two obvious sight gags: actual Parisian monuments visible only in reflections and other countries depicted with the same buildings with different decor out front. The hour spent in the restaurant was stuffed with even more visual bits, the doorman holding a handle unattached to a door, two waiters carrying a menu as if it were a corpse. And this is all without even mentioning the delightful, over-the-top sound effects! It was not until the film was halfway through that I realized no story was really taking place, there was no plot, but it did not matter in the slightest. In another time and place, I would be making the Hulot extended universe my entire identity. As it is now, I will be seeking out the rest of the series and probably watching this one again to pick up more.

Ignore the Ignorant - The Cribs

Another day, another Cribs album. This continues the upward trend for me of enjoyable listens, particularly from a distinctive era of 2000s British indie rock. I believe this might be the only album featuring Johnny Marr, and my goodness, it shows. In fact, I thought I picked up some Modest Mouse influence before I read that he was involved in this particular record. I really appreciate the way they slide in some longer songs amidst shorter ones, in a way that contributes to that art-y new wave atmosphere. There was a notable shift between the second and third record, and this fourth one builds on the previous, even if I didn’t get quite the same level of excitement out of it. Of course, I realize this is a disadvantageous way to go about listening to a band, doing a mostly passive cursory once-over through a complete discography, but it’s the way I do things. The immersion is making me eager to start over again and do some more closer listens, so there’s that.

Singin’ to an Empty Chair – Ratboys

Ratboys are from Chicago, but their sound should be able to confirm they are from the Midwest long before you know that detail. This band fits squarely into that alt-Americana of Big Thief and Waxahatchee, and not simply because all are fronted by female vocalists. I realize they are roughly contemporary with those other acts, but it is surprising they don’t get the same level of attention. This is a stellar follow up to their previous record, The Window, which felt like something was beginning to break through at the time. As a continuation, I hope this album elevates their progress even further. They are seemingly able to write simultaneously joyous pop pieces that feel breezy as well as longer epics that feel all-encompassing, and it changes from song to song. In fact, some of the more anthemic pieces are worth belting out. The music feels somehow both modern and timeless, but all songs are endlessly pleasant. Easily the first contender for my annual best of the year list.

Behind the Magnolia Curtain – Tav Falco’s Panther Burns

There are two types of Pitchfork Sunday Reviews: those that provide context for an already-known record and those which introduce a never-known one. In either case, there is a reason this has been part of my required weekly reading (and subsequent listening) for years now. This week’s review was an example of the latter, introducing a new-to-me album, a 1980s garage blues rock album reminiscent of rock and roll from thirty years prior. On my initial pass, I wasn’t a huge fan. The record was competent at making me consider classic rock and roll—Buddy Holly, Link Wray, Bill Haley—but ultimately, I would have rather listened to any of those artists instead. Musically, there were a few tracks which impressed me, but the vocals took me out of the experience, and I found myself wishing for more of the dirty, fuzzed out instrumentals. As an experiment in nostalgia, I found it interesting, but the novelty wore thin after some time. I fully admit, however, that I have basically no exposure to the source material of Memphis rockabilly referenced in the initial article, so I can't hold my own lack of nostalgia against the music. I will probably take songs from this record in doses, but I don’t see myself returning to the album as a whole in the near future.

Flesh - David Szalay

I used to enjoy stories about nihilistic, mundane characters, such as Holden Caulfield or William Stoner. Turns out, I still do! Istvan is the latest in that archetype for me, bouncing chaotically between affair and violence, never quite seeming to settle into a comfortable life. Even the moments where things do seem to be going right, there is always an atmosphere of unease. For a mostly bleak story, however, the pacing was incredibly quick, as so much narrative was told in rapid dialogue. There were bright spots, though. For one, the love Istvan felt for his wife was truly evident, even if his response to her fate was not handled well. The other was that Istvan's mother weaves her way throughout his life in ways that mostly went unnoticed by me, until the end. Of course that resonated with me, to the point that I went back and re-read the opening few paragraphs immediately after finishing. That Istvan was able to forge those two deep emotional connections amidst an otherwise gray existence was beautiful, inspiring, and, honestly, life-like. This was possibly my favorite ever Booker winner, though I would have to reconsider Shuggie Bain.

Men’s Needs, Women’s Needs, Whatever – The Cribs

I’ve been meaning to check out this band knowing Jeff Rosenstock name-checked them in one of his best songs. Anything Jeff endorses is good enough for me. As I do with such things, I work through in chronological order, so this is the third record of theirs I’ve listened to this week. This approach is proving to work for me, because each album is growing on me, naturally as the band’s sound evolves. I got the sense this was the big release for this band, so I was eager to get to it. It is the first one that has made me want to dive back in for another listen. I have to say, it sounds very “of its era,” but I mean that as a compliment. Thinking about the other records coming from the UK in the mid-00s, this feels perfectly in place. I’m still not ready to claim fandom for the group, but I haven’t hit anything that’s made me want to quit either. Incidentally, this is the first album of theirs where I can really hear a sense of the Rosenstock sound coming through.

URGH – Mandy, Indiana

I’m still quite mystified by the naming conventions of this band. How does a group from the UK land on my home state as their calling card? I suppose it is pleasant to say aloud, but it is an otherwise unremarkable place. That said, I wish the music spoke to me more than the name did. This is not the first album of theirs I’ve listened to; listening to the weekly Stereogum recommendation is part of my weekly routine, and I suspect that’s where I picked up the last one too. I can do some electronic and some glitch and some weird, but taken as a whole, the style is just not for me. It is hard for me to put myself in the mindset where I would be craving it. Far and away, my favorite bit is the Billy Woods feature. And the album cover! Honestly, its chaos perfectly suits the music, and I can get behind that.

Two People Exchanging Saliva (2024)

Every February, I find myself seeking out the easily-available short films on the Oscar list because it’s easy to take in one or two with my morning coffee. I spent the first two acts thinking this was an intriguing, if standard, dystopian story, which it is. Affection is grounds for capital punishment, and the economy has substituted literal slaps in the face for money. But I was surprised at how swept up I was in the romance by the third act. The mundanity of a taxi driver taking Angine to a dumping ground of nondescript coffins to search for her lost love was sad enough, but revisiting the scene on the stairs from Malaise’s birthday from another perspective was heartbreaking. The scant runtime of the format lends itself perfectly to how rapidly the events of the story begin, develop, and resolve. Also, a banner year so far for short films with on-the-nose character names, with this and the Jane Austen period piece.

3:10 to Yuma (1957)

I have vague memories of watching the remake of this film, probably around the time it released on DVD, with my parents in my basement growing up. Almost nothing has stuck with me almost twenty years later except, I believe, a train in a tunnel? At any rate, I watched the original, in my efforts to stay up to date on Criterion Collection releases. This was such an affecting film, with Evans’ supreme moral compass and an utmost need to care for his family. As he says goodbye to his wife and implores her to remember him with pride regardless of the outcome, a devastating climax feels inevitable. This makes the final escape sequence all the more tense. The joyousness of the escape, coupled with the rain finally beginning to fall feels totally hopeful. Not to be forgotten, the haunting main musical song will stick with me for a long time. I had read the ending was different between the original and the remake and my aforementioned lack of memories about it, so I read through a synopsis, despite there really being only one other outcome. Interestingly, despite being backwards, I would say I watched both of these at the right times in my life. I’m sure the emotion of the remake’s end resonated with me artistically then, but the sense of hope in this viewing original was exactly what I needed now.

Hazuki vs. Mei Seira (Stardom, 1/11/2026)

Stardom is one of those wrestling promotions I see all the time on best-of lists, always want to know more about, but don’t usually have the bandwidth to follow regularly. In fact, I can’t recall if I’ve ever seen either of these competitors before this match. So, without any of the storyline context or background knowledge, I can safely say: wow, this was a stiff match! Hazuki’s offense in the closing minutes was relentless, Seira looked completely exhausted at the final bell. The pure sound alone was bombastic enough to make this a must-watch match. On a related note, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a referee with such rigid, vigorous mat counts. Truly authoritative performance from the referee, outshone only by the intense, rapid action from the wrestlers themselves. The one-off matches of Stardom I catch never fail to disappoint, and I need to do that more often.

As an aside, I have to start thinking about where Korakuen Hall would land on a list of all-time venues. Like a Madison Square Garden, it is one of those places where the location lends to the stature of the event.

Palate Cleanser

I’ve decided to start writing again. Actually, I’ve been thinking about this for a long time now—maybe years—the idea of writing short reviews of the media I consume. Maybe the occasional bit of sports writing, who knows. So, using this platform, I’m going to start writing 150-200 words to get my thoughts out about things. The reviews will be egocentric. The editing will be minimal. The style guide will be mine. The topics will not likely be timely. The idea here is to write for me, a living diary of the classic or contemporary things I’m reading, watching, playing, etc. Some may be first-time experiences, others may be repeat experiences. 

I also want to exercise my writing skills again while using some critical thinking. So much of what I do gets distilled down to a star rating on another platforms (some of which are linked on this very page) and my memory is so bad, I wanted to get some actual words behind the ratings to refresh myself for future reference. That does not mean these reviews will be intellectual (though they will probably still be pretentious?) But that’s okay, these are meant for me to revisit, and anyone who stumbles upon them, lovely, welcome, I appreciate you!

I decided not to go back and delete any of the pieces before now. Not because I think they are any good (quite the contrary: some would be difficult to re-read, I’m sure). No, I’m not deleting them, mostly because it would take work, and there’s no real point. Essentially, those were written by a different person, and the posts are there as relics, as artifacts. Plus, I was at least somewhat proud of them at one point in time. In fact, I even attempted something like this before, regrettably titled "Best Thing I Did Last Week." I want to keep it simpler than that. Hence, this interlude of a post serves as a palate cleanser, bridging what I use to write and what I will write going forward.

We’ll see how long this idea lasts. For now, I’d like to shoot for three days. Then, maybe a week. Then, maybe another week. The point is not to hold myself to anything. Not to mention, there will be days or weeks where I don’t engage with much of anything or feel compelled to express thoughts on them. That’s okay, too. And if nothing else, I’ll have this post, right here, to revisit when I don’t feel like writing anymore or when I get the itch to write again in a few years, whatever the case may be. This is for me, to stretch my creative thinking, to retain my memory better, and simply, to write words I want to read.