
Piccoli again plays a lonely, calculating professional who comes to plot a crime, though the similarities end there. Max was cold and emotionally distant; Simon Léotard, as the title character notes, wants to be loved by everyone. A modestly successful investor, Léotard has devoted his life to the family business, enjoying the camaraderie of his partners as well as the respect (and occasional favors) of district judges. He may have only experienced emotional intimacy with high-priced mistresses, but that's better than nothing, and staying single has given him more time to work.
Love has always had a thing for gnarly 90s electro mall-goth—it made perfect sense when he was hired to remix Marilyn Manson last year—and the combination of aggressively noisy synthesizers, overdriven scream-rapping, and small-town nihilism fits him nicely. Check out the video after the jump.
So we're just going to say "fuck that" to current events and watch Taco Leg's video for their song "Raiders." I discovered the Perth, Australia, trio late in the year, but their deliberately brain-dead take on postpunk—imagine Mark E. Smith as a chronic inhalant abuser—was an unexpected treat that landed a spot on my year-end Spotify playlist. The video for "Raiders," like the song's lyrics, is a shoddy, low-budget recreation of an iconic scene from The Raiders of the Lost Ark. It's dumb, but at least it's entertaining, which is more than you can say about Marlon Wayans.
But the moments that deliver this kind of transcendence tend to come amid a whole lot of straight-up awfulness. You generally have to wade through a lot of shit before you get to the jet pack fight or whatever.
It's been a big year for the local video-art collective. In January several members embarked on a nationwide tour to promote its latest feature-length DVD just as YouTube took down the group's channels in response to a copyright infringement claim. This fall the Everything Is Terrible! live show made its debut in Ireland (via Skype) before touring the U.S. again; and throughout the year, the group presented midnight movies at the Music Box and the Logan Theatre. At present some members have begun work (with a few writers and crew people from the IFC show Food Party) on a new project called Channel 2020, which purports to "take you to the not-too-distant future and show you the real faces of the reptilian overlords who are responsible for nearly every aspect of our daily lives."
While Twin Infinitives has had a respected position in the indie canon ever since it was released, I'm far more partial to the group's later efforts, when they decided to stop making formless junkie noise and start making groovy junkie rock 'n' roll. I'm especially partial to their 1995 album Thank You, their first recording for Virgin Records after signing the kind of ridiculously fat contract that exemplified the mid-90s run on bands with any modicum of indie credibility. On Thank You Herrema and Hagerty focused on their long-standing obsession with capital-letter Classic Rock—which had initially expressed itself in Hagerty's first band, Pussy Galore—famously deconstructing the Stones' landmark Exile on Main St. in a fit of punkish idol killing. Thank You evolved into a genuine attempt to revive the kind of unapologetically swaggering rock attitude that Pavement-era indie rockers sneered at.
This month Cunningham takes on the role of film programmer. On Saturday at 7 PM at the Nightingale, he'll present a rare underground film called The Age of Insects (shot in New York on a variety of video formats throughout the 1980s), and on Sunday, December 16, at 7:30 PM he'll present a documentary about Lyme disease (Under Our Skin, from 2008) at the Siskel. Cunningham himself has been afflicted with that condition for more than a decade; these two screenings are to raise money for his medical treatment. I spoke with him the other day about living with Lyme disease and how he discovered The Age of Insects.
Anderson and Donovan also have a side hustle in selling cars in Argentina, or at least writing songs for commercials intended to sell cars in Argentina. Today Anderson debuted a commercial called "Casamiento" on his Facebook page that features him and Donovan harmonizing sweetly over a delicate acoustic-based arrangement. It manages to tap into the naively-sincere vibe that ad agencies are so fond of these days, but avoids the cloying tweeness that has made car-commercial-indie-rock the most irritating subgenre of the moment.
Check out the song and commercial after the jump.
Last night Riff Raff and former Kreayshawn associate Lil Debbie released their "Michelle Obama" video, though, which kind of makes up for it. The beat is sick, Riff Raff's as compellingly nonsensical as ever, and Lil Debbie slightly exceeds the extremely low expectations I had for her. Check out the video after the jump, and vote Riff Raff in 2016.