December 31, 2007

I have problems only oc…er, seldomly

When I'm not quizmastering, I'm a copy editor. As such, I'm a pretty capable speller, and one of the many incredibly sucky things about my school system growing up was that we never had anything remotely like a spelling bee; if you couldn't do a lay-up or crab-walk fast, you were SOL in competitive endeavors.

But, there is one word that is the absolute bane of my existence: "occasional." I literally never remember how to spell out it, and just now typed it in incorrect twice before the red underline disappeared to indicate I'd hit pay dirt.

What's going on here? Is it some mysterious mental block? Like when I was in high school and I somehow always forgot to call my parents at 11pm and tell them where I was? Do I harbor some kind of subconscious resentment of "oca"…"occass"…fuck!…"occasional"?

See, what I really need to do is come up with some kind of mnemonic trick or association to help me easily remember the spelling; that's how I mastered "minuscule" (it includes "minus"—I got a million of 'em). Incredibly dorky suggestions are welcome.

December 28, 2007

Bouncing around my skull: "San Francisco"

So I originally came to NYC to be a music critic. That didn't work out so well—I was 20 years too late to be one of those misfits trapped in his basement, listening to records; they expected me to hang around backstage with Christina Aguilera—but I still approach music somewhat analytically. So occasionally, I plan to blog about whatever song is presently bouncing around my soft little skull…

Right now, it's "San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair)," by Scott McKenzie, which just came up on the randomizer on my iTunes. Number one hit from 1967, one-hit wonder. The song is pretty stupid on its surface, a facile anthem for Summer of Love flower-power hippie-dippy nonsense. This dude McKenzie (who I believe went on to be a Christian-oriented musician, but I'm too lazy to check Wikipedia) is moaning and yelling about how "gentle people" from all over the country are feeling compelled to make the long bitch of a journey to SF (remember, there was no JetBlue in those days), in order to do nothing in particular—sit around, love each other, roll around in the grass in Golden Gate Park. Yeah, that'll end the Vietnam War.

Oh, but these are old complaints about hippie culture, and the fact is, I love this song. Indeed, it's the closing track for the 44th mixtape I ever made. It strikes just the right chord of naive hope, the kind that is in pathetically short supply these days (if there's one thing that the Internet encourages, it's cynicism). I figure the dumb lyrics are part of the point; the music is cut-rate Byrds, wimpy acoustic guitar strumming and gimmicky sitar over the tinkling of what sounds like a Fisher-Price xylophone. I have no doubt that this song hit number one (an impressive feat back then, unlike now) because thousands of gloriously stupid kids all over the country heard it, felt its positive vibes, and convinced themselves that San Francisco was indeed the promised land of peace and love. Most of them probably didn't make the trip, but at least they had someplace to fantasize about.

But I bet you there was some guy somewhere, in Iowa or New Jersey, for whom Scott McKenzie had sounded the call. He heard the song one day while working at the Fotomat, looked around at his life, and realized nothing was happening. So he dug out his fringe vest, packed up piece-of-shit 1963 Rambler, and drive to San Francisco, the land of weed and patchouli, to find his dream of joining the hippie revolution. Oh sure, he was eventually disappointed, and today he's a lonely old man working as the tech guy for a karaoke band in San Jose. But for a few years there , he lived the fantasy: met lots of interesting weirdos, did a shitload of drugs, thought he was changing the world by talking about rainbows, and probably fucked some really good-looking women. Not that bad, compared with what he left behind. And all because of Scott McKenzie.

December 26, 2007

Face the facts

So today, finally, giving in to tedious peer pressure, I acquired that necessity of late-2007/early-2008 American citizenship, a Facebook page. Interestingly, while I'd been aware of Facebook for many years, until I plunged into the registration process, I had never even visited Facebook. I mean, since even before I became a MySpace lackey, I'd been there on a regular basis checking out the poor excuses for websites cobbled together by rock bands struggling and otherwise.

It's kind of shocking how quickly and massively there's been an exodus from MySpace to Facebook, considering that it's pretty much a case of "Meet the new corporate-hipster new boss, same as the corporate-hipster old boss." I'm sure Malcolm Gladwell would have something interesting to say about the changeover.

Anyway, Facebook seems handy to me and all, and please go ahead and make me your friend, or write on my wall, or join my group or whatever. But really, how is this any different from Friendster, which none of us have cared about for three years? And in 2009, what website will people be telling me I'm lame for not being on then? This culture is insane.

December 21, 2007

War is heck

Earlier this week, Time Out New York received the following unsigned fax from a purported reader:

I guess you terribly sophisticated idiots actually believe that the “holiday” that mysteriously has no name and is celebrated in December is the birthday of a guy called Santa Claus. Yes, that must be the reason Time Out New York has a picture of Santa on its cover. I must, however, inform you morons that the no-name generic holiday on December 25 is called Christmas. Perhaps you mentally deficient, politically correct children have heard of Christmas? You know, Christmas shopping, Christmas trees, Christmas decorations, the birth of Christ. Oh, yes: It is the birth of Christ we all celebrate. We give Christmas presents because the Three Wise Men brought gifts to the Baby Jesus. The holiday is really a holy day. Get the picture? Since I do not celebrate no-name holidays—nor the birth of Mr. Claus—I will no longer subscribe to your magazine.

Okay, this person is fucking insane. Apart from the fact that I strongly doubt that he/she is an actual subscriber (the double-penetration shots in the Sex issue were fine; it's a picture of Santa Claus that's really offensive), they're denying reality: The word "Christmas" was used many, many times in that issue, and this person's impression that we refuse to name it is based on complete pessimist fantasy. Moreover, is TONY the only magazine associating Christmas with Santa Claus? Everyone else is putting Jesus on the cover of their magazine, hanging pictures of Jesus in stores, hiring someone to dress as Jesus and sit in a shopping mall, inviting children to sit on his lap and whisper in his ear? Really?

This is part of the whole so-called war on Christmas—if you know me, you know that perhaps nothing just plain pisses me off more. It's yet more hateful bullshit from the right wing, calling anyone who doesn't coddle them bigots and traitors. There is no "war on Christmas": I live in Democratic pacifist secular liberal Communist egghead blame-America-first man-on-man New York City, where Christmas is everywhere; as I write this, it's December 24, and I will kill a human being if I hear "Wonderful Christmas Time" by Paul McCartney one more time. I have never heard of anyone denying the importance of Christmas; "happy holidays" or "season's greetings" is not rejecting Christmas—it's including Christmas, along with New Year's, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, and whatever the fuck else people want to celebrate in this country that is fundamentally based on religious freedom. Grow up.

Seriously, is there a "war on Christmas"? Has anyone heard of anyone actively trying to expunge Christmas or Christianity from the American dialog? There are rumors of schools here and there throughout the United States who come down on "Christmas pageants" and the like—are these real? And if they are, is there any trend beyond a few isolated incidents? I really want to know.

December 19, 2007

The Blank Album

A couple of BQTs ago, I asked this…

Q: The new albums from alt-hip-hop singer-songwriter Imani Coppola and Swedish garage rock band the Hives have the exact same title, inspired by the Beatles. What is it?

And your answer is…The Black and White Album (actually, that's only the Hives' title; Imani Coppola uses an ampersand). I noticed because I reviewed the Hives album in Time Out New York in the same issue there was an interview with Coppola, and my trivial mind did it's usual, "A-ha! A meaningless yet mildly interesting coincidence! I must forge this into a question!"

Probably no album titles in the history of music has inspired so many other album titles as the White Album has (note how I don't italicize the title; the album is officially untitled, or called simply The Beatles; "the White Album" is a widely accepted nickname, like Led Zeppelin IV or Axis of Evil). And what an amusing list of album titles, a rainbow of referential snark through the annals of rock & roll. Let's list them, shall we?

The Black Album: This title is now best known from Jay-Z's 2003 album, the last ever album he ever recorded (the first one). Like the Beatles, Jigga worked the monochromatic theme to the hilt—black booklet, black jewel case, the artist himself is black. I'm not sure what the significance is, despite the fact that I'm the accepted global expert on all things hip-hop. But I do know that Jay didn't release the first Black Album, more or less; Prince's aborted 1987 follow-up to Sign O' the Times is also called the Black Album, though it was officially untitled (it came in an unmarked black sleeve, à la Spinal Tap). But even Prince can't lay claim to the first noir Beatles' parody; that honor goes to the Damned, who released The Black Album in 1980, appropriate for a band who straddled the line between punk (at which they were great) and goth (zzzzz…). And I think some people refer to Metallica's 1991 release as "the Black Album," which seems awfully unimaginative to me.

Later, I'll tackle some other colors/hues/design schemes, etc.

- Quizmaster Noah

December 16, 2007

Man, those horns can enunciate!

At last Monday's BQT, I asked the following question:

Q: How many times is the word “Batman” sung in the theme song to the Batman TV show of the 1960s?

The correct answer is 11. Only one team got it (Enola Gay Agenda, naturally)—most of the wrong answers weren't that far off, though a few people surprised me with things like "1" or "83 1/2." Didn't realize it would be so hard; that damn song was imprinted upon my DNA when I was a child.

But a couple days later, I got an interesting MySpace message from Strippers for Stephen Hawking's Shaolin representative, Greg:

after re-listening to the batman theme and i believe it is all instrumental! if you have the theme, take a listen again and i swear the words batman are not sung but instrumental stings timed at the precise moment to sound like batman, its very evident on the last "batman" before it ends take a listen and please let me know

Hmm. Is it possible? The word "Batman" is never sung in the theme song—it's merely horns cunningly orchestrated to sound like a passel of cheesy '60s session singers chanting the name? The Batman theme was written and recorded by Neil Hefti, one of the best in the scoring business in the '60s, so if anyone could do it, it would be him. Judge for yourself:



First of all, who the hell is the guy behind Catwoman with the pillowcase over his head? Been wondering that since I was six.

Anyway, I hear what Greg was saying. Those "Batman!!!"s sound suspiciously like horn blasts. But I not buying it—it's definitely human beings singing there—you can hear the hard "B" at the beginning of the word. I think the "messy" effect is simply a function of the kind of Wall of Sound–type production that Hefti was employing.

Regardless, that's one awesome TV theme song. One of the all-time best, possibly second only to the excellent, excellent Mr. T theme.

December 15, 2007

But I still want to call them mixtapes.

Serious hardcore BQT regulars now that one of our little traditions is that every July, at the quiz closest to my birthday (July 14 -- Bastille Day babies rep-ree-ZENT!), I lovingly caress my ego by presenting an audio round, "The Nth Mixtape Your Quizmaster Ever Made." As an awkward, bored 14-year-old, I decieded to make the greate mixtape in the history of mankind, and I did it. A few months later I made a sequel, then another, then another, ending up with a series of "Supermixes" that ably document my adolescence as the world's only music geek who neither plays guitar or wears glasses.

So every year, at the quiz, I've moved down the list of old Supermixes, picked ten songs, and asked the audience to ID clips of them. For example, in July 2003, when the quiz wasn't yet a year old, we presented "The First Mixtape Your Quizmaster Ever Made," selections from Supermix ! from January 1990. The audio round consisted of…

1. “Leave It” -- Yes
2. “Next To You” -- The Police
3. “And We Danced” -- The Hooters
4. “Jet Airliner” -- The Steve Miller Band
5. “Exhuming McCarthy” -- R.E.M.
6. “Another Nail for My Heart” -- Squeeze
7. “Panama” -- Van Halen
8. “Carry On Wayward Son” -- Kansas
9. “I’ll Be You” -- The Replacements
10. “Radio Radio” -- Elvis Costello and the Attractions

There were 14 other songs on that precious 90-minute Maxell tape, including tracks by Tom Petty, Violent Femmes, the Who, They Might Be Giants (yeah, big surprise), the Dead Milkmen (ditto), Pink Floyd (haven't liked them since), and Billy Joel (I lived in the NYC area—it was required by law). Some clunkers in there, but basically, I think it reflects pretty good musical taste for a 14-year-old who had neither hit puberty nor heard of the music underground.

But here's the thing: I still make these mixes. I just finished Supermix! 51; listening to it right now. Oh, sure, they're different now; Supermix! 38 was the first one on CD. But I still make these things, and I still follow the two cardinal rules I established with the first entry: (1) A particular band or solo artists can appear only once on a particular mix. (2) Never repeat a song. Once a tune has been included on a Supermix!, it can never be put on another.

So here, for the first time, is the lineup for the brand-new Supermix! 51. A pretty good one; not in the first tier with mixes like 1, 7, 28, 33, 45, and the immortal 11. But certainly in the same league as fine efforts like 4, 8, 16, 20, 29, 34, 46, and—what the hell—30 too.

Supermix! 51: Tick Tick Boom
1. "I Am the Cosmos" -- Chris Bell
2. "Tick Tick Boom" -- The Hives
3. "Accident Waiting to Happen" -- Billy Bragg
4. "An Ear for Baby" -- The Thermals
5. "When 'You're' Around" -- Motion City Soundtrack
6. "Automatic Doors" -- The Mummies
7. "Listed M.I.A." -- Rancid
8. "Amsterdam" -- Peter Bjorn & John
9. "Radio Nowhere" -- Bruce Springsteen
10. "(You Must Fight to Live) On the Planet of the Apes -- The Mummies
11. "Make a Plan to Love Me" -- Bright Eyes
12. "Back to the Sea" -- The Futureheads
13. "Stuck Between Stations" -- The Hold Steady
14. "Going Back to School" -- The Fleshtones
15. "That Thing You Do!" -- The Wonders
16. "Janie Jones" -- The Clash
17. "SPAZZ" -- The Elastik Band
18. "Possession" -- Elvis Costello and the Attractions
19. "Western Battles" -- Seafood
20. "The Times They Are A-Changin'" -- Bob Dylan
21. "Surf Wax America" -- Weezer
22. "Bizarre Love Triangle" -- New Order
23. "Turning Blue" -- Jay Reatard
24. "I Will Survive" -- Art Brut
25. "Snowball in Hell" -- They Might Be Giants

Pretty awesome. For the lineups of most of the past Supermixes (don't know how long ago I stopped updating this), check our here.

These cupcakes are making me happy

Anyone who's been to the last two BQTs has no doubt taken note of our new treat supplier, The Batter Up Cake Bar. We've been giving away minicupcakes baked with loving care by Batter Up's Jeremie Lappe, and good Lord, are these things delicious. I strongly urge you to go to the website and buy some for yourself. Or, just come to the quiz and try to win them. But the website probably doesn't ask you questions about the "Batman" TV theme song in order to fulfill your order.

It's all going to happen in 2008, except whatever doesn't

Friends-

Due to the vagaries of holiday scheduling, last Monday, December 10, was the final Big Quiz Thing of 2007. I actually briefly considered trying to do a quiz on Xmas Eve—this is New York City, I think we could scrounge up a few Jewish nerds—but ultimately thought better of it. And even I have better things to do on New Year's Eve than ask trivia questions in a basement.

So this gives me a little time to make a BQT plan for '08. And to share it with you. 'Cause, you know, I love you.

1. The biggest development of '07 was saying good-bye to our longtime venue, the Slipper Room. That place was insanely good to us for an amazingly long time (nearly five years), and we only moved because I got sick of feeling guilty that I was unable to conjure extra chairs out of the ether. Our new home, Crash Mansion, is a beautiful, beautiful venue, and job No. 1 for '08 is to really make it our home. So I'm bringing in throw pillows, pictures of my cat, and dirty magazines to hide under the stage.

2. As you're conceivably aware, the Big Quiz Thing does some good business doing private parties—office parties, corporate events, fund-raisers, cult meetings. But not enough—Quizmaster Noah and DJ GB still have day jobs, EDP still has to sell drugs. The goal in '08 is to kick that business up. We have a new press kit inches from completion and some useful doors to bang on. Should we get an agent? A publicist? If so, what's the best way to go about getting such help? Suggestions are beloved.

3. The format and gameplay of the BQT is forever a work in progress. Just a couple of months ago, we made the minor but vital tweak of adjusting the lag time between Lightning Round questions from 15 seconds to 10 seconds. It's still not a particularly lightning-like Lightning Round, but everything's relative.

One of the big goals for '08—and this is greatly at the longtime prodding of DJ GB—is to be a little more cryptic in how we advertise the show, to give less away and make it harder to anticipate the nature of the trivia. I realize that's a little unclear, so apparently I also need to be less cryptic in how I explain how I'm going to be more cryptic…

Okay, instead of flat-out telling people what the subject of the next audio round is going to be ("'White Songs," "Drive My 'Car,'" "Songs by Guys from Memphis with Titles That Rhyme with 'Mail Louse Jock'"), I'll try to explain it in not-so-explicit terms. So that people can't prepare so much. Yeah, anyone who prints things out and brings them as crib notes to a quiz show in a bar has too much time on their hands, but I know with whom I'm dealing here.

So that's the plan. For now. More later, I'm sure…

- Quizmaster Noah

Start writing, kid!

Hello, friends-

Finally, finally, we have the new BQT blog up and running. The way I see it, this big will serve multiple purposes…

1. Musings from the quizmaster and friends about the Big Quiz Thing -- stuff we couldn't squeeze into the banter between questions during the show.

2. BQT recap: summing up what happened at previous shows. Because this is 2007; no thing may go un-snarked-about.

3. Various and sundry pop culture commentary. Where else on the Internet can you get that?

4. The quizmaster soothing his ego by blasting his fat old mouth off. HA!

(I just realized that these four things overlap with each other…)

Stay tuned…

Quizmaster Noah