Behind The Making of Lennon's First Solo Album

Music DVD Review: Classic Albums Series: John Lennon - Plastic Ono Band

John Lennon's first solo album Plastic Ono Band was recorded during a difficult period described by many of those who were there as a time when John was "finding himself." He had just left the Beatles, and was searching to find his own identidy -- both personally and musically -- removed from the madness that often surrounded the biggest band in the world at the time.

When viewed in hindsight, the songs on Plastic Ono Band obviously have long since bore that out. Stripped to a core unit of just Lennon, bassist Klaus Voorman, Ringo Starr on drums, and occasionally keyboardist Billy Preston (most notably on the song "God"), the simplicity of the music and arrangements confounded many of the former Beatle's fans. They of course had become used to the progressively more elaborate music that had begun with Rubber Soul and continued right on up through Sgt. Pepper, Abbey Road and the rest of the Beatles landmark recordings of the time.

John also shocked those same fans with the words "I don't believe in Beatles" found on one of Plastic Ono Band's key tracks, the song "God."

Ah yes, the lyrics.

With Plastic Ono Band, on songs like "God" and "Mother," Lennon seemed to be a man intent on standing quite literally naked before the world, and bearing his soul for all the rest of us to see. "He was always a very courageous guy," Ringo notes in one of several revealing interviews on this DVD about the making of that album. "He would just put it out there. But sometimes there were severe consequences."

Part of Eagle Rock's fabulous series on the making of Classic Albums, this DVD is not only a fascinating look at the making of that album -- it also provides a rare look into the lives of John and Yoko themselves at the time it was made. Unlike so many documentaries such as this -- that rely on informative, but often dry and boring interviews with the studio tech wizards who twiddled the knobs -- there is also lots of rare footage here of the Lennons themselves. It's just great stuff.

One of the more interesting tidbits one learns here, concerns the process of how John and Yoko recorded both of their solo albums at the same time. The result was the now famous identical covers of both records.

But it is also revealed here that at one point they wanted to title John's album "Primal," and Yoko's "Scream." The idea here was to demonstrate their togetherness -- both musically and of course, as a couple -- but also an acknowledgment of Arthur Janov's Primal Scream therapy, which was a heavy influence on the personal themes of John's record. As things ended up, they simply called both albums Plastic Ono Band.

But as for Yoko's album, the title "Scream" certainly would have served as truth in advertising. Ringo describes the sessions for Yoko's record as a situation where the small band just jammed, while Yoko would "do her crazy singing." Ringo then adds "Peace & Love, Yoko" with a humorous grin.

It is also revealed here that although Phil Spector was given a producer's credit on John's record, "I don't remember Phil producing anything" as Ringo reveals. The small band would record the simple, stripped down arrangements by day, while John remixed the tracks at night.

On this DVD, the whole story unfolds through some amazing footage, as well as interviews with Ringo, Yoko, Klaus Voorman, and the engineers who mastered the record. In the segments with the engineers, many of the original demos for the record are also played. In one such segment, Lennon's famous scream on "Mother" is seperated out from the backing music tracks. "I don't know how the guy could even talk after that," the engineer remarks.

There are also some pretty great extras here, including original live performances of "Mother," "Well Well Well," and "Instant Karma." Eagle Rock as always has done a great job with this revealing and fascinating documentary, which is available in stores on April 29.

A Classic Masterpiece Gets A Little Remastered Love

Music Review: Love -Forever Changes (Collectors Edition)

If ever an album has warranted the deluxe remastering treatment that is so prevalent in reconsidering classic rock albums these days, it is Love's Forever Changes.

So you might be scratching your head and thinking to yourself right about now, "Who? What?," and in that regard you would not be alone.

Although the 1968 release is now regarded by most music critics as one of the best albums ever made -- it is often mentioned in the same tone of reverence held for such landmarks as Sgt. Pepper and Pet Sounds, and recently came in at a very respectable #40 on one of those Rolling Stone Best Albums Of All Time lists -- the record barely registered a yawn when it first came out.

Love's third and final album didn't even make the Billboard Top 20 back then, peaking at a dismal #154. Even on today's classic rock stations, chances are you won't hear it sandwiched between the Stones/Beatles/Zeppelin rotation -- well, outside of maybe the occasional play that the lead track "Alone Again Or" might get anyway.

Often dismissed at the time as Elektra's "other band," few are aware that it was Love who first introduced the Doors (who often opened shows for them back then) to execs at the label.



Even so, Forever Changes stands as a landmark recording.

The songs on the record, mostly written by the group's late genius, guitarist Arthur Lee, capture the psychedelic folk-rock vibe of the period without sounding at all dated today (well, okay maybe just a little). They also feature some of the most complex song structures and chord changes this side of the more often praised Brian Wilson or Lennon and McCartney. It's also no accident that no less than Jimi Hendrix has cited Lee as a primary influence.

So the best news here is that the remastering job on disc one is a doozy. Lee's guitar in particular rings like a bell on this crystal clear revisit of the original recording. On tracks like "Alone Again Or" the orchestral arrangements are also cleaned up quite a bit from the original, which occasionally suffered from being a bit muddy sounding. Ditto for the strings on "Andmoreagain," which sound sweeter than ever.

But much like Sgt. Pepper or Pet Sounds, the songs on Forever Changes are not meant to be taken in individual doses, but rather as a more complete sounding whole.

The album is quite simply a gorgeous sounding completely realized work, that is best digested all at once. It is a masterpiece that stands out all these years later, even though it was created during an era when bands seemed to be able to crank out such incredible work almost at will. The songs paint a picture that comes in various colors and shades, and also evoke the simpler, more innocent time when it was created like few others.

You know those trippy, dippy sixties movies with all of the hippies dancing around with flowers in their hair? Well, Forever Changes could have provided the soundtrack for any one of them.

The second disc here contains over an hours worth of rare and previously unreleased performances -- most notably a remixed version of the entire album, that does little to improve on the original. This leads me to what is my one major complaint about these remastered versions of classics that are so popular today, and that is that you just shouldn't screw with something that is already widely regarded as a brilliant piece of work. The good news here though is that they don't mangle things too badly.

There are also some interesting outtakes here. These include both sides of the followup single, "Your Mind And We Belong Together" and "Laughing Stock." There is also a cover of Sam The Sham's party classic "Wooly Bully" recorded during the original sessions.

Also included is a booklet that features newly written liner notes which shed light on the turmoil surrounding the recording of this album. At first, the band was barely able to hold itself together and studio musicians had to be brought in. Frustrated at their status as second fiddle to Elektra's far more successful band The Doors, the band was also trying to get out of it's contract, eventually splitting up largely in order to do just that.

Overall, Rhino has done a fine job here, although the extras on disc two mainly serve as candy on the proverbial cake. The main reason to pick this one up is for the much clearer sounding recording of the original found on disc one.

And pick this up you most certainly should. The two disc deluxe collectors edition of Love's Forever Changes will be in stores this Tuesday April 22.

Danny Federici: Some Thoughts 24 Hours Later

Friday Night; 04/18/08; 10:07 pm.

As most of you have heard by now, Danny Federici -- Bruce Springsteen's longtime keyboardist in several of his bands, but most famously including the E Street Band -- passed away on Thursday following a three year battle with melanoma. Federici was 58, which by any standard is far too young for a light which shone as brightly as did Federici's to be snuffed out.

Who knows the answers to why things like these happen?

If any of us did, there would be no need for things like faith, and the religions of the world would all be put out of business overnight. So who are we to question, and when you get right down to it, what would be the point of it anyway?

Anyway, I think I have had some time now to put this into perspective.

Danny is gone, and for those of us who loved his music -- specifically, his immeasurable contributions to all of the great records he has made with Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band over the past four decades -- the music is what we are left with.

And from his accordion work on "4th Of July Asbury Park (Sandy)" to the searing organ break on "Kitty's Back," to those wonderful glockenspiel flourishes on songs like "Born To Run" and "Hungry Heart," -- which were such a signature part of the E Street Band sound -- the one thing that is sure is that Danny Federici brought a lot of joy to a lot of people.

If the music is what we are left with, then Danny Federici is in that sense immortal.

God knows that any one of us should be so fortunate.

Still, that doesn't make this loss hurt any less today.

Mark Saleski -- a guy whom I have never met face to face, but who I nonetheless consider a friend -- wrote one of the most poignant pieces of his that I have ever read over on Blogcritics. In it, Mark attempted to make some sense of the fragile issues of mortality as they relate not only to the musicians we revere from afar, but also to the close family and friends we treasure so much. Simply stated as it was, it is still powerful stuff.

That pretty much covered it as far as I was concerned. Still, with the shock now beginning to wear off some 24 hours later, I feel compelled to offer my own thoughts. I hope you will bear with me.

I never knew Danny Federici personally, but I met him once when I was living in Los Angeles in the early nineties. I ran into him at a sub sandwich shop in Studio City next to my favorite newsstand, where I offered the few feeble words of thanks that a diehard Springsteen fanboy like me could muster. He was most gracious in putting up with me.

I never knew him, but still I considered him family. At least in the way that the community of hardcore Bruce Springsteen fans would.

Danny Federici was/is an integral part of the music that has brought myself and millions of others so much joy for the past four decades. So as any one of those "tramps" will tell you, that sense of community is something that is unmatched anywhere in rock and roll outside of perhaps the "Deadheads" who followed around the Grateful Dead from coast to coast for so many years.

When I tell you that for us "Bruce Tramps" being at one of those E Street Band shows is like being in a great big room with about 20,000 of your best friends, it is no exaggeration. For the diehard fan, an E Street Band show is like Christmas, your birthday, your high school graduation, and your wedding day all wrapped up into one.

Federici's death came as a shock.

It's not so much that it was unexpected. Federici took an extended absence last fall from the Magic tour, following an emotional on-stage farewell:

Federici rejoined the E Street Band on-stage one last time for an emotional version of "4th of July Asbury Park (Sandy)" in a concert earlier this year. "Sandy" was considered one of Federici's signature songs with the E Street Band, in particular because of his accordion work.

The general consensus at that time was that he would be rejoining the tour shortly. In fact, when I saw an accordion on-stage at the show I attended last month in Portland, I even excitedly remarked to my concert buddy that "we might be getting Danny tonight."

It wasn't to be, of course, but the idea was that by all accounts Danny was getting better. When the news came, it was a shock even though we all knew he was sick.

At the time I heard about it, I was participating in an impromptu "Springsteen roundtable" discussion with my fellow Blogcritics scribes El Bicho, Josh Hathaway, and Josh's friend "11" on the BC internet radio show, B Sides Concept Album.

Josh does a great job of hosting the show. We always have a lot of fun, and this night was no exception. On this particular night, the resident Bruce-geeks were comparing setlists, gushing about all of the great shows, and in general getting Josh amped up for his virgin concert experience with Bruce and the E Street Band -- just days away in Atlanta.

When Donald Gibson broke the news about Danny to us in the chat room as he saw it come across the AP wire, the giddy mood took a very quick downhill turn. I haven't yet listened to the playback, and to be honest I'm not sure I will.

What I do remember is a conversation that took place off air (although I believe it's still there on the playback), where we speculated about the future of the E Street Band. That was after the shock had at least somewhat, but not completely worn off. And to be honest, the speculations of the remaining trio (Josh, "11", and myself) of armchair E Street quarterbacks was probably meaningless babble anyway. It felt oddly comforting at the time, for whatever that's worth.

I'm going to end my thoughts on Danny's passing in much the same way that I began them. Although Danny may be gone from this mortal coil, he does live on, and will continue to do so through his music.

That may sound somewhat trite, and I begrudge no one who thinks so. However, because of the immeasurable contribution he made to the sound of the E Street Band -- a sound which has fostered one of the strongest fan communities in all of rock and roll, and which has made millions of people happy for four decades -- it is no less valid an observation.

Rest In Peace Danny.

Make a difference -- donate to the Danny Federici Melanoma Fund.

R.I.P. Danny Federici, 1950 - 2008



Earlier this evening (Thursday 04/17/08), both Bruce Springsteen's website and Backstreets Magazine reported the sad news that longtime E Street Band keyboardist Danny Federici had passed away after a three year battle with melanoma.

Late last year, Federici took a leave of absense from the E Street Band's world tour in support of the Magic album, announcing his condition to the world for the first time the day after an emotional onstage farewell.



Federici did rejoin the E Street Band onstage one last time for an emotional version of "4th of July Asbury Park (Sandy)" in a concert earlier this year (see video above). "Sandy" was considered one of Federici's signature songs with the E Street Band, in particular because of his accordian work. Federici was a member of Springsteen's E Street Band for over forty years, and his distinctive keyboards are an integral part of the E Street sound heard on such songs as "Hungry Heart" and "Born To Run."

Ironically, Federici's death comes on the same day that Springsteen made headlines by endorsing Democratic senator Barack Obama's bid for the US presidency.

Earlier tonight, Springsteen released the following statement on his website:

"Danny and I worked together for 40 years - he was the most wonderfully fluid keyboard player and a pure natural musician. I loved him very much...we grew up together."
—Bruce Springsteen

Springsteen's concerts with the E Street Band scheduled for this weekend in Florida have been postponed. The Federici family is asking that in lieu of flowers, donations be made to the Danny Federici Melanoma Fund, which will have a website up set up shortly.

For fans of Federici's immeasurable contribution to the sound of the E Street Band, this is a tremendous loss. Our thoughts go out to them, and to the family and friends of "The Phantom."

Eels At The Showbox: An Evening With "E" And "The Chet"

Concert Review: Eels At The Showbox, Seattle WA 04/11/08

Thank God for the friends I have that keep looking out for my best musical interests.

A couple of years ago, one such friend dragged me out to see a show by the Eels. For the uninitiated, the Eels are essentially the brainchild of Mark Oliver Everett, better known to a small, but rabidly devoted fanbase as simply "E".

The Eels are probably best known to the masses for their lone hit, a post grunge ditty called "Novocaine For the Soul," that briefly enjoyed airplay on alternative rock stations in the nineties. The thing is however -- as I soon discovered attending that concert in 2005 -- that song only scratches the surface of "E's" rather unique musical talents.

On that particular night, touring behind the album Blinking Lights (And Other Revelations), the Eels performed in what can only be described as a rather high-brow sort of concert setting, with Mr. E backed by a small string ensemble.

What came across more than anything was the fact that while E's songs can seem deceptively simple on the surface, there are many levels of depth lying just underneath. Even as Mr. E came across as a personal, quite engaging performer -- he was an odd sort of bearded eccentric, chomping on a fat cigar and joking with the audience -- his songs seemed to reveal an intensely personal, melancholic sort of quality.

This was a guy with some issues, many of which seemed to revolve around a complicated relationship with his father. And I was pretty much instantly hooked.

The other thing that came across that night however, was that Everett surrounded himself with some pretty amazing musicians -- particularly multi-instrumentalist Jeff Lyster, or "The Chet" as he is better known to fans. That night, "The Chet" played the hell out of everything from several variations of the guitar, to a drum kit consisting of little more than trashcan lids.

The other thing about an Eels show is that it seems you never know just what you are going to get. Since that high-brow show three years ago with the string ensemble, the Eels have performed here in Seattle a couple of times as a more stripped down sort of rock band. Invited by yet another friend to check the band's concert at the Showbox out tonight, I soon learned they would strip things down even further, on both a musical and personal level.

The evening began with a film tracing Everett's efforts to learn more about his father, who was a brilliant eccentric (not unlike "E" himself).

As it turns out, Everett's father was a scientist specializing in quantum physics who more or less discovered -- and was later discredited for -- the theory of parallel universes. In the film, "E" discovers this in a personal quest by tracking down his various associates, only to make the ultimate discovery of how the rejection of his groundbreaking theories eventually destroyed him.

As an artist whose work is already quite personal, "E" pulled no punches here. Still, it is refreshing to see how he maintained a sense of humor about the whole thing -- jokingly referring to himself as the "Julian Lennon of Quantum Physics" once the Eels finally took the stage.

Speaking of which...

Once they finally did, tonight's incarnation of the Eels consisted solely of "E" and "The Chet." And in a ninety minute set, they built at first from "E's" quieter, more introspective and melancholic songs, to a full-on rocking crescendo where they shook the house like a full band.

"The Chet" in particular was a house of fire -- alternating between drums, keyboards, and some absolutely scorching guitar. At one point, "E" and "The Chet" even switched off on piano and drums (and "E" aint a half bad drummer himself). "The Chet" also read at times from "E's" just published autobiography (yup -- he's now a published author too).

As the concert drew to a close with a nice trifecta of "Soul Jacker," "Novocaine For The Soul," and a brief, but great cover of Led Zeppelin's "Good Times, Bad Times," (where "The Chet" reminded me a lot of what Nels Kline has done to "complete" Wilco's shows last year), I found myself thankful for those friends who keep dragging me out to these things.

Townes Van Zandt's Life Of Wine, Women, And Dedication To Song

Book Review: To Live's to Fly: The Ballad of the Late, Great Townes Van Zandt by John Kruth

When it comes to music, I like to think that both my knowledge and personal taste are pretty broad. Even so, there are a handful of artists whose work has just managed to plain escape me over the years. There are just a few select musicians and songwriters out there, who despite hearing great things said about them from just about everyone whose opinion I respect, have somehow fallen beneath my own radar.

Townes Van Zandt is a perfect case in point.

Although Van Zandt has never sold that many records on his own as a solo performer, he is universally respected as one of the best songwriters of his generation by nearly every artist whose music I even remotely care about. Which is why I made a point to pick up John Kruth's To Live's to Fly: The Ballad of the Late, Great Townes Van Zandt and read it.

So here is what I knew about Townes Van Zandt before reading this very detailed and in-depth, if occasionally somewhat difficult to follow biography.

Van Zandt has many times been called a great songwriter. Some even swear that while he was among us, he was quite possibly the best. Most often, Townes Van Zandt has been cited in the same breath as two of his own heroes, Hank Williams Sr. and Bob Dylan.

Steve Earle, who is something of a Van Zandt disciple, once famously said of his mentor that he was not only the best, but that he would stand on Bob Dylan's coffee table and tell him as much. Van Zandt himself replied that he knew Dylan's bodyguards and doubted very much he'd be standing on that table.

I was also aware of Van Zandt's well-earned reputation for hard living, alcoholism, drug abuse, gambling, and womanizing -- all contributing factors to his early death in 1997. I also knew that his work had influenced several generations of songwriters and musicians, from Willie Nelson and Emmylou Harris to the Cowboy Junkies and The Black Crowes.

I knew that as a songwriter, he was part of the small, but elite group to produce a song that is now considered a standard. You can say that about Dylan's "Blowin In The Wind," and you can say it about Lennon and McCartney's "Yesterday." You can also say this about Van Zandt's "Pancho and Lefty."

So what I didn't know, and what I learned for the first time reading this book, was that Van Zandt was born into wealth, and that he died on the same day as his hero Hank Williams.

Townes Van Zandt was the son of a rich Texas family with a history as deep as the Big State itself. He essentially threw it all away around the same time he discovered people like Elvis and blues legend Lightnin' Hopkins. With that, Van Zandt instead chose to pursue a life of wine and women, but most importantly, his unwavering dedication to song.

This so horrified his parents that they had actually had him committed to a mental institution. In one humorous but telling story in the book, Van Zandt takes off his ever-present cowboy hat, and points to several small red dots on his forehead. "Electro shock therapy," he says.

Van Zandt's story is told here in painstaking detail through a series of in-depth interviews with those closest to him, including wives and girlfriends, the musicians and friends he both inspired and aggravated (including Earle, Jimmie Dale Gilmore, and best friend Guy Clark), and business associates like longtime manager Kevin Eggers (himself the subject of debate to this day amongst Van Zandt's friends and fans).

The stories here range from tales of Van Zandt's numerous, often notorious drunken escapades on the road playing a seemingly endless string of roadhouse honky tonks and Juke Joints, to a closer look at a brilliant, but complicated man hounded throughout his life by the twin demons of alcoholism and depression. In between, author John Kruth, who is himself a musician, offers keen insight into Van Zandt's artistic body of work.

What emerges is a portrait of a rare artist, who was equally capable of the simple, romantic beauty of a song like "To Live's to Fly," and the darker edges of something like "Sanitarium Blues." The book also reveals Van Zandt as a complex enigma who was capable of both humor and compassion, but also of harsh cruelty.

Although occasionally hard to read because of the way that Kruth's narrative interlocks with the interviews -- they often jump in and out in such a way it's a little tough to catch your breath -- To Live's to Fly is a fascinating, and uncompromisingly honest look at a songwriter many who would know claim was the best of his time.

For fans, this book is a must. For those looking for an introduction it works as well, although I would also point you toward the album Live At The Old Quarter, Houston Texas.

The Men Don't Know, But The Little Girls Understand

Music DVD Review: - Classic Albums Series: The Doors

Say whatever you will about the bloated, drunk-ass poet wannabe that Jim Morrison died as. But in his original heyday, the Lizard King was one badass mo-fo.

And the Doors self-titled 1967 debut album remains -- along with those of Led Zeppelin and the Jimi Hendrix Experience -- one of rock and roll's all-time best.

I still have a very clear recollection of my very first exposure (no, not that kind) to the Doors. I was in sixth grade living in the tiny town of Port Angeles, Washington when I first heard "Light My Fire" on our little AM station KONP. There were a lot of really amazing things I heard on the radio that particular summer -- Sgt. Pepper and the Beach Boys "Good Vibrations" not the least among them -- which would eventually ruin me pretty much for life.

But the Doors really stood out.

There was just something really intoxicating, hypnotic -- and dare I say it, kinda dangerous -- about the combination of Morrison's dark as night vocals, and Manzarek's dizzy as a freaking carnival keyboards.



Don't ask me why, but for this impressionable young tyke it just really worked. But damn if Morrison didn't lead me almost immediately lead me into sin...

Not long after hearing that damn song on the radio, I was at this school sponsored carnival (there's your Doors connection right there), when I happened to see this girl about my age leave her purse unattended. As the words "Thou Shalt Not Steal" I had learned in my strict Christian upbringing thundered in my brain (and may you Rest In Peace Chuck Heston), I also heard the devilish voice of Jim Morrison taunting me.

He was saying things like, "finders keepers right?"

"The Killer awoke before dawn..."

So I grabbed her purse, hopped on my bike, and immediately high-tailed it down to Swain's General Store (where in 1967 P.A. they had everything you could ever want as a thirteen year old) to buy the Doors album with my stolen (or "found" as I rationalized it) loot.

Hot damn! I guess that's why they called him Mr. Mojo Rising.

What I soon found when I slapped that precious piece of plastic on my fifty dollar turntable was that "Light My Fire" was merely the tip of the iceberg. Though I had no idea what such songs meant at the time (and thank God for that in the case of "The End"), I soon found myself lost in songs like "The Crystal Ship," "Back Door Man," and of course, "Whiskey Bar."

Like I said, Morrison and the Doors -- like the Beatles, the Stones, and Dylan before them -- had perfectly ruined this young, impressionable lad for life. Blame them, not me okay?

And that is why this DVD is so damned cool. Because, all of these years later in the infinite years of worldly knowledge I have since gained, I can now finally learn just how and why these four evil musical alchemists from L.A. led me into a life of ruin and sin.

Live footage and interviews with those who witnessed the creation of this landmark album -- including the surviving band members Kreiger, Densmore, and Manzarek, and engineer Bruce Botnick and manager Bill Siddons nearly complete the picture here. When you add in discussions with those influenced by this album -- guys like Perry Farrell and Henry Rollins -- it becomes as close to providing the whole story as you will ever get.

At least it helped me make a little more sense of it. Which translates here into just why this music so intoxicated me so long ago. Like the song says, "the men don't know, but the little girls understand."

In this case, you can count at least one little boy among those who did indeed.

Eagle Rock's Classic Albums Series: The Doors, will be in stores on April 22.

Get it.

Blogging Church For The Democratic "LD Saints"
...As In "Legislative District Democrats"

Somehow, you could just tell that this year was going to be different.

Being a rock and roll sort of guy and all, I've been doing my thing for these Democrats for at least a couple of decades now -- going back at least as far back as the seventies and Jimmy Carter. Although Ted Nugent might take issue with me on this, being a Democrat is just part of the deal for us true rockers. It's in the manual. Just ask Bob Dylan...

But I definitely knew something was up this time around back in February when I attended my precinct caucus. There were actual people there, and lots of them. The good news is that the race this year seems to be attracting so many newbies and young people. The bad news is that...well, there were so damned many of them.

When it comes right down to it, these caucuses are all about one thing -- and that is electing delegates to the national convention. So it was one thing sharing tea and crumpets with the little old ladies back in 1976. All you had to do was say "I wanna be a delegate" and you were in. Competing with several hundred other mostly young people to get elected now by your precinct was another matter entirely.

Fortunately, I did make it to the Legislative District Caucus -- held earlier today -- as a delegate. On the down side, I knew pretty much the second I walked in the door I would not be going too much further -- and definitely not as far as Denver in August. With pretty much everyone there competing for this same privilige, you had some very hard core campaigners running for those 35 precious seats. Honestly, you would've thought some of these people were running for President themselves.

One lady there even had her own slogan, "The glass is always full, never empty." Not quite as catchy as "Yes, We Can" to be sure, but who am I to talk? She made the final cut, and I didn't.

Not that I didn't give it the old college try though. Having been caught completely by surprise at the hard campaigning going on all around me, and without any signs or banners of my own, I knew I had to think fast. What was called for here was a little old fashioned hand shaking and shilling for votes. I believe they call it "retail politics" these days.

So, being a smoker, I decided to jumpstart my campaign in the smoking area outside. Now, you might be thinking about now that most democrats are anti-smoking types, and a select few might even fall into the category of tobacco nazi. Just ask Washington State's own Governor Christine, right?

And actually that is sort of true. But the secret is that in the same way a lot of those Republican family values types still get their freak on in various deviant ways within the privacy of their closet, a lot of us Dems live our own hidden lives as smokers. Just ask Barack Obama.

So as I had guessed, the smoking area turned out to be a goldmine. I got nearly half of my twenty votes there. When I re-entered the caucus room in the old gym of my alma mater West Seattle High School, I was already preparing my speech for the final vote. I learned that in the interest of time it would need to kept to thirty seconds, and unlike those debates on TV the rules would be vigorously enforced. So I began scrawling it out on the back of a leaflet for Governor Christine's re-election:

"Howdy Neighbors," my speech began.

My name Is Glen Boyd and I was born and raised in West Seattle like so many of you here today. I graduated from high school in this very building back in 1974. For those of you old enough to remember, I also ran the neighborhood record store Penny Lane back in the seventies and wrote for the West Seattle Herald.

I ask for your vote to represent Barack Obama as a national delegate today because I believe that in this campaign, unifying the country is an issue that is so important that it supercedes politics. I believe Obama has best demonstrated the ability to do that. As your delegate, I promise to passionately and vociferously support thre next president of the United States, Barack Obama. Thank you!"

So there it was. Nothing too fancy, but rather nicely short and sweet. Unfortunately, I would never get to read it.

You just can't compete with slogans about "the glass being full" and all of that. And you certainly couldn't compete with the seventeen year old captain of his high school debate team who pulled in something like 300 votes. He wasn't even a smoker, for pete's sake. Damned sympathy vote!

Actually, I'm just kidding about that last line there. Personally, I find it absolutely thrilling the way that candidate Obama (and to a lesser extent candidate Clinton), has energized the younger demographic this year. If nothing else, by participating at this level they get a wonderful civics lesson that my comparively more apathetic generation by and large missed out on in our own youth. By participating in it, they get to learn how the process actually works.

So at about this time, it was my cue to go home after a long day that had begun some seven hours earlier. There were about fifty speeches to hear yet, and even at thirty seconds apiece, this meant a potential of several more hours to go. So I grabbed myself a ballot, made sure to pick the glass lady and the debate kid, and then threw about thirty three more darts at it.

I turned it in, and I went home.

As I write this , my guess is they are probably still winding through the speeches up at my West Seattle High alma mater. As for me? I'm gonna kick back, grab myself a beer, and watch a little tube.

After all, this is still Saturday night...

Chapter 27: Jared Leto Writes The Final Chapter On the Lennon Tragedy

Movie Review: - Chapter 27

Chapter 27 is a new movie out in somewhat limited release right now that is bound to stir controversy. Not just because it features Jared Leto in a role that is a bit of a character departure -- he is neither his usual rock star handsome, nor his not so elegantly Requiem For A Dream wasted here.

Rather, Leto put on a ton of weight in order to more accurately portray the physical appearance of John Lennon's crazed assassin, Mark David Chapman.

The eerie (and creepy) accuracy of Leto's portrayl doesn't end with the physical similarities either. But we'll get to more on that in a minute. The controversy of Chapter 27 -- whose title refers to a new, final chapter of the book Catcher In The Rye, that the infamous murderer may have felt he was writing in his own twisted mind by killing Lennon -- has to do more with the character of Chapman himself.

When I suggested to a fellow editor here at Blogcritics that I might decide to write about this film, he immediately recoiled in horror. What he said to me, in so many words, was that to do so would be to help play into giving Chapman the fame he was seeking. And that it would somehow dishonor the memory of Lennon.

I have to respectfully disagree. The subject matter here is not pleasant of course, especially to fans (including this writer) who still mourn Lennon to this day. It's not meant to be.

What this film instead does -- and successfully I might add -- is seek to make its own sense of a tragic event, that is nonetheless now a matter of historical record. The way Chapter 27 attempts this, is by getting inside the twisted mind of Mark David Chapman himself. Something that Jared Leto's performance does with finely nuanced detail and uncanny, horrifying realism.

Leto is brilliant here in a way that does anything but glorify Chapman. In his portrayl of what can only be described as one sick fuck, what you see is a glimpse inside a spiral into terrible, unspeakable madness. It is not a sympathetic picture.

Deceptively subtle at first, Leto's Chapman seems more than anything to be a very confused young man who takes Catcher In The Rye a bit too seriously. But Leto soon unravels this facade piece by terrifying piece. When you see him alone in his room, standing in a mirror grinning boyishly, and then emptying his gun into a mirror, there is no mistaking the evil within.

Soon, at every turn, with every "friend" the pathetic Chapman seemingly makes while he stalks his prey for three days outside the Dakota, they symbolically later flee away in horror. From the paparazzi who snaps his picture getting an autograph, to the prostitute who seems creeped out at her "john" for the night from the moment she steps foot in his hotel room, people one by one realize there is something terribly wrong with Chapman.

Lindsay Lohan is particularly good here, as the Beatles fan "Jude" who Chapman meets outside the Dakota. Jude even kind of likes Chapman at first, falsely recognizing him as a somewhat awkward fellow fan. But in the end, even Jude runs away in near terror as Chapman chases her down the street begging her to stay. It's an understated, and quite effective performance from Lohan, that still definitely gets the point across.

Watching this movie is almost like reliving the experience as a first hand observer. It puts you right at the front door of the Dakota on that terrible day.

But -- like Oliver Stone's biopics about JFK, Jim Morrison, and Richard Nixon (all three of which ran somewhat loose with the historical facts in order to make their point) -- it never does so in a manner that comes off as exploitative or gratuitous. Chapter 27 simply interprets the events. Unlike Stone's films however, there is no attempt at spin or shine. By the time this movie ends the way we all know it does, all you are left with is the same hollow sense of meaninglessness of the event itself.

If Mark David Chapman's act on December 8, 1980 was that of a narcissistic psychopath seeking fame, the way he is presented here offers no quarter. He is simply seen here as the pathetic inkblot on history that he is. He is the bloodstain -- nothing more.

For those reasons -- and Jared Leto's stark, but riveting performance -- I can strongly recommend Chapter 27. It is a disturbing, but very powerful film.