Alias: Ben Guiles
Major: Sociology
Year: Freshman

Ben says the transitions on this playlist are amazing. Too bad imeem didn’t have all the songs. Make sure you check out that claim though.

check out culture. ish. on imeem.

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Alias: Brad Roman
Major: Civil Engineering
Year: Senior

check out culture. ish. on imeem.

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check out some of brad’s playlist in the playlist section.
read the articles on page two.
get your tickets for the concert.
check the culture. ish. calendar.
join the culture. ish. last.fm group and the facebook group.
leave some feedback.
thanks.

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Good art can’t be assembled from exemplary pieces like a fantasy baseball team. The Good, The Bad, & The Queen, the first album from the band formed by Damon Albarn of Blur and Gorillaz, falls prey to the usual supergroup problem: it sounds too good, too slick and too professional to be very interesting. Produced by Danger Mouse, and featuring Paul Simonon of the Clash, Simon Tong of the Verve, and Tony Allen from Fela Kuti’s backing band (Afrika 70), the album is lushly arranged but ultimately uninspiring. The lyrics, intended to be a portrayal of modern life in London, are somewhat evocative but rather vague and obscure; they’re far more interesting as poems in the album liner than paired with the music.

The album does have a few high points: “Nature Springs” shows the band melding their diverse styles with much more success than the rest of the album, and hints at promising results if this group can ever move past being a project and meld into a band. This album, however, is still fairly immature.

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There have been plenty of movies made that tell stories of trauma; in fact, one might argue that almost all films are about traumatic experiences and how this changes and moves people through a narrative, toward either greater meaning or nihilistic chaos. These films need to find resolution in redemption or some level of healing in the afflicted person, or they ultimately settle for despair. When dealing with true tragedy, good films need to find an honest way to allow the audience to imagine the possibilities of hope and love.

Reign Over Me is this sort of film. It never sinks to the level of despair, but is accurate in not providing false hope. Charlie (Adam Sandler) has been a recluse since the loss of his wife and three daughters on 9/11. He has stopped visiting friends and family, and spends his time playing video games, listening to music and collecting records. Alan (Don Cheadle), Charlie’s former roommate, sees him scooting around town and tries to reconnect after a long absence. Alan soon realizes that he needs to try to help Charlie, but finds that the institutions in place for dealing with grief and loss are not adequate to the task. He realizes that it will require time and a slow reconnecting with a small group of new friends that might help Charlie to learn to live with the loss, and make sense of his own life. The film is really good at developing the characters, and as weird and random as the group seems, it works. The film doesn’t try to make grand statements about death and loss. Rather, it simply shows that a little reflection on life can show us who we are and what it is that we love most.

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According to current polls, two out of every three people think that President Bush is doing a bad job running the country right now. This number must be higher among people with recording contracts. But with the recent crop of blatant musical statements of political dissatisfaction, Bright Eyes’ latest work, the Four Winds EP, stands out.

Although his political commentary isn’t hidden beneath layers of complex literary constructions, Conor Oberst did have the grace to craft his songs into clever and compelling metaphors, avoiding the descent into blatant and puerile name-calling that has plagued the work of other folks forwarding similar messages.

And while his lyrics do become heavy-handed in places (“the Bible’s blind, the Torah’s deaf, the Koran’s mute/If you burn them all together you get close to the truth”), the album is not a tirade. The Four Winds is certainly tinged with sorrow and despair, but Bright Eyes keeps things listenable with his skillful folk rock arrangements. This collection of songs is one of the most palatable statements of frustration to come out of the cottage industry of dissident voices that have sprung up since Bush’s re-election.

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When I was in the ninth grade I wanted to be cool. So, I bought the coolest album I could- Pearl Jam’s Ten. Everyone in high school seemed to love them. They sounded good, and it wasn’t like I had to reflect too hard on the lyrics that you couldn’t catch most of the word too anyway. It was about being cool. I’m not sure exactly how it happened, but my Dad (a pastor) decided that we should sit down and listen and read the lyrics together. At first this seemed even cooler, seeing as how my first experience of rock music was the Simon & Garfunkel my Dad recorded off the radio during his college days. But as we read the lyrics of songs like “Evenflow” and “Jeremy” I began to realize that this was disturbing stuff- painful and emotional songs about child abuse. My dad didn’t make me burn the CD’s or throw them out, he merely pointed out that there was a massive disconnect between my own life and experience and the music I was listening to. I came to the realization that I wouldn’t be listening to Pearl Jam anymore (My junior year of college I returned to them with more mature questions). I had to recognize my own limitations.

What I have come to realize is that while a Reformed view allows Christians the freedom to really engage and ask good questions of culture, it also places on us the responsibility of know where the boundaries are. Even before the Fall, God had told Adam and Eve the limits that they were under, not as slaves to God, but so that they could find their identity and flourish in their relationship with God, rather than being deceived by thinking of themselves as god. This has become clearer, or rather more muddled, after the fall, where we now see the world “through a glass darkly.” In a world with real goodness and real evil, we must come to realize what our boundaries are so that we are pursuing faithfulness, rather than running into ruin.

What we need is a community of conversation- a space where we can learn and grow in maturity and discernment. To be human is to be a creature in God’s world, and we flourish most when we live inside the limits that God’s grace provides. Engaging culture is not a free for all in which we celebrate every created thing as art, rather it is a careful process in which we work out our faith with “fear and trembling,” trying to discern the complexities of an originally good creation that we have screwed up by mistaking grace for irresponsible freedom. Engaging culture will involve developing appropriate gestures in response to culture; these gestures then shape our posture toward culture. Andy Crouch (Culture Makers, 2007) lists “condemnation, critique, consumption, and copying” as possible Christian responses to different things in culture. While each of these responses are appropriate for different things, we should not allow one of them to become the dominating response. Rather, within the limits of God’s world we have to become creators and cultivators of culture- to truly be salt and light in the world.

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Let’s be honest: James Bond will always be James Bond. There will be explosions, there will be a ridiculous villain, and there will be a fairly offensive and chauvinistic approach to all the female characters. Casino Royale is no exception to the Bond formula. In addition to the sex and violence, however, the latest installment in the series takes an opportunity to slow down and do something very interesting.

In the slower moments of the film, the writers take time to deal with the origins and consequences of the callous mindset that defines James Bond. They take a sensitive look at the casual sex-hound and remorseless murderer, which–while still admiring–shows a certain hollowness to his being.

Over all, Casino Royale is little more than a fun popcorn flick, but its moments of introspection lend it a gravity and sense of dignity seldom found in the blow-’em-up super-spy genre.

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This is car-commercial music. This is music that only feels meaningful when you’re at the bar and you’ve been drinking alone. This is a dull, dull, overproduced album. The lyrics are formulaic and uninspiring, and bear the distinctive shape of Nashville cookie cutter pieces (see, for example, such gems as “Had enough of wondering / what became of all the dreams she had / oh, they’re out there somewhere”). The standard piano-rock pieces are mostly split between tracks that sound either like a mix of Coldplay and U2 run through a fruit juicer, or like absolutely generic CCM-ish cuts.

–ap

listen

all music

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