He only looks innocent.
Gobbledygeek episode 378, “The Dog Ate My Sleep,” is available for listening or download right here and on iTunes here.
We’re tired. So tired. That’s what you want to hear when you’re about to fire up a podcast, right? You are reading this, aren’t you? Buried among such illuminating subjects as the coffee Arlo’s drinking, Paul’s underhanded behind-the-scenes manipulations, and the boys’ general unprofessionalism, there is indeed some pop culture palaver and parley. The boys are digging HBO’s troubled teens drama Euphoria despite being approximately 400 years too old to say things like “that’s a mood”; Arlo is losing faith in The Handmaid’s Tale; Paul remembers Yesterday; and they both are in awe of Toy Story 4 being so much more than a cynical cash-grab.
Next: Toby Maguire now vanquished, Jake Gyllenhaal finally makes his way into a Spider-Man movie, donning a fishbowl for Spider-Man: Far From Home.
(Show notes for “The Dog Ate My Sleep.”)
Hey, Mr. AJ is a new column in which I plan on writing some things about the new music I hear. They’ll be brief reviews, divided into sections: MAXIMUM GOBBLING for the masterpieces; GOBBLE IT for the merely great; WORTH GOBBLING for other good releases; GOBBLE? for those albums which aren’t really good or bad, just sort of okay; DO NOT GOBBLE for the shitty; and RUN, DON’T GOBBLE! for the awful. Got it? Now, don’t ask me again.
by Tame Impala
I’m a Beatlemaniac, so I see the Beatles everywhere. Bear with me. On their debut album Innerspeaker, Australian psych-rock band Tame Impala manage to do what the Olivia Tremor Control did on 1996’s masterful Music from the Unrealized Film Script, Dusk at Cubist Castle; without compromising their creativity or their own unique vision, they capture the spirit of the post-Sgt. Pepper, pre-Abbey Road Beatles. Specifically, both albums remind me of the more freewheeling psychedelic cuts on Yellow Submarine, like George Harrison’s “It’s All Too Much.” Indeed, lead singer Kevin Parker’s voice reminds me of Harrison’s in that soaring, nasally way, which also makes it at times resemble John Lennon’s. But as I said, this is no rip-off, and Tame Impala sound like their own band, embracing the hazier realms of psychedelia that the Fab Four rarely did. It’s misty, delightful music that lulls you into another world with its spiraling distorted guitars, insistent drums, and far out yet pleasingly retro production techniques. Innerspeaker hasn’t made its way to the States yet, but whenever you get the chance, take a listen. You’ll be glad you did.