A big thanks to Showcase participants and attendees
Winners and nominees—23 of them— rocked over a thousand attendees at five venues on March 24, 2018. It was a blast and we’ll see you at next year’s shindig. Here for posterity (and your browsing pleasure) are the winners and runners-up.
We live in a lazy sound-bite culture. With each passing year, Americans demand that their lives become a little bit faster, a little bit simpler, a little bit easier. Jello Biafra once said, "Give me convenience or give me death," and this really is our new sacred patriotic creed. It's central to every aspect of our hurly-burly, Internet-and-latte lives, even here in slow, laid-back New Mexico. Wouldn't Patrick Henry be proud?
A broken cup of a girl, shocked numb and colorblind, rattled through cold tunnels of unpopulated perception, free of the weight even of dreams. That was after the Moonies, after the deprogramming. In the house with boards nailed over the windows, they had cracked her open, mopped up the spill. They tossed away her chill dark mornings singing ’Arirong' by the sea, carnations sold on street corners, praying in tongues. For a moment, I thought she might not have heard me. "Yeah, OK. I'll marry you," she finally allowed, her pale wafer-thin smile queer under the mercury vapor moon.
DigiFest Gets Definition—The annual Digifest Southwest Film Festival has wrapped up another week of frantic filmmaking here in the Duke City. Last Saturday night, an estimated 900 people descended on the Kiva Auditorium to watch the festival's premiere screening. Seven short films were shot in and around Albuquerque last week, and all seven were handed in, shot and edited, just under the wire for Saturday night's screening. This year was the first in which filmmakers got to work with High Definition digital cameras, giving this year's Digifest's the most high-tech lineup to date.
Slapstick crime comedy proves laughter is as simple as black and white
By Devin D. O'Leary
Are you familiar with the term “high concept?” It's a Hollywood buzzword used to describe a film so simplistic that the entire concept can be summed up in a single, catchy sentence. Hollywood likes high concept. White Chicks, the new comedy jam from the Wayans brothers, could very well be the highest concept film of the summer. Basically, somebody walked into a movie studio one day and said, “How about a movie in which two black guys dress up like white chicks?” The studio executives thought it over for all of two seconds and said, “Great! We'll call it White Chicks.”
Funky docudrama gets to the roots of the Blaxploitation genre
By Devin D. O'Leary
Movies about the making of movies tend to be self-indulgent sitcoms about the trials and tribulations of filmmaking—winking mea culpas issued by directors and writers who have fed long enough at the Hollywood trough to be faintly embarrassed by it all. When Hollywood turns the camera on itself, the results can be hard-hitting and satyrical (The Player, certainly); but, more often than not, the final product is more slyly self-aggrandizing than the material it purports to mock (Burn, Hollywood, Burn anyone? Sim0ne perhaps?). The simple truth may be that Hollywood just doesn't have a very good perspective on itself.
Reality TV isn't the most original genre on the Idiot Box. So it should come as little surprise that two networks would debut two shows within a week of one another, both centering on the ritzy realm of Las Vegas casinos.
Mark Friday, June 26, on your calendars as the night Stoic Frame return from the wilds of Los Angeles for an increasingly rare “hometown” show at the Launchpad with Concepto Tambor, Tabula Rasa and simple. The rock begins at 9 p.m., and if you're under 21—as is often the case in el Burque—you're shit out of luck. ... Which brings me to my next item: I saw quite a bit of killer local music last Friday night at, of all places, the Mountainside YMCA. Being back at the place where I learned to swim to see a rock show titled “Band-It Together” started out on the surreal side, but I was quickly distracted by some damn fine young bands, especially the emo-minded One For Hope, who possess more depth than most bands twice their age and are polished enough to get signed tomorrow. And they don't even realize it. Someday, Whatsoever and, of course, Unit 7 Drain, all gave outstanding performances as well. Kudos to Jordy Gailard, Jade Wright and all of the other teenage YMCA organizers for putting together a great local music event, and to the folks at Music Go Round for providing backline free of charge. ... Sausage Hang (pictured above) will provide live, play-by-play coverage of the Fourth Annual Star Tattoo Party at Elliot's in Corrales on Sunday night, June 27. Bands on-hand include New Weapons, Church Camp, Black Maria and at least one other to be announced. Beware of Joe Anderson.
featuring Robert Earl Keen, Sonia Dada, Bruce Cockburn, Los Lonely Boys, Shawn Colvin, Mary & Mars and others
Though many, shall we say less-than-intelligent, Americans cannot or refuse to see the advantage of using the sun as a source of energy in lieu of sources that produce pollution, some New Mexicans can and do. Since the '70s, residents of Taos, N.M., (a.k.a. the “Solar Capital of the World”), have been putting the giant, burning ball in the sky to work in their homes, businesses and community.
Apparently, God has a record deal. Israeli Hewbrew teacher Uri Harel has taken a page from Michael Drosnin's book, The Bible Codes, and come up with a formula by which he assigns each of the 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet to a musical note, then “composes” boring classical-based pieces of music to select Psalms and chapters of Exodus supposedly according to the naturally occuring patterns of letters in the Hebrew Bible. If the result is what music sounds like in Heaven, I'd rather burn in Hell. Thanks for the jewel case.
Tuesday, June 29-Friday, July 2; Various Albuquerque Public Library Locations (all ages, 11 a.m., see below for times and branch locations): It's summer. School's out. And by now, your kids are likely driving you up the wall. When was the last time you took them to a public library? And when was the last time you took them there not just to check out books, but to check out some great children's music as well? If you're sick of hearing junior repeat the “Barney Theme” and “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” over and over again, children's music maestro extraordinaire (and University of New Mexico grad) Jim Cosgrove could save your life.
with an acoustic guitar and some hippie songs ... and Weapons of Mass Destruction and Fivehundred
By Michael Henningsen
Thursday, July 1; Former Dinosaur Jr. leader and indie rock guitar wizard J Mascis is giving his ears—and ours—a break this tour. Instead of bringing Mike Watt and four full Marshall stacks to the Launchpad stage and playing so freaking loud some people actually get nauseated, he's playing all by his lonesome. Having seen little bits and pieces of Mascis' solo act previously in Austin, I can say with confidence that just because he's playing acoustic guitar, you shouldn't immediately assume he's not going to rock. In fact, with the help of a distortion pedal and various other effects, you won't really be able to tell the difference at times between Mascis' hollowbodied instrument from an electric guitar.
While his hippie-trip sets certainly have that singer-songwriter air to them, there's something rebellious and (gasp!) alternative about just knowing that it's J Mascis up there, still giving it up for the people in his own, uncompromising way.
Friday, June 25; The Paramount (Santa Fe, 21 and over, 9 p.m.): Co-founded by Molly Sturges (vocals, accordion) and Chris Jonas (saxophones), Bing is essentially a groove collective, borrowing rhythmic and melodic components from a host of musical genres and using them to create transient soundscapes that are as reliant on improvisation as they are on carefully calculated unison passages and solo figures. Add to that soulful vocals from Sturges and the musical contributions of Mark Weaver (trombone, tuba), Tim Gagan (guitars), Nina Hart (bass) and Dave Wayne (drums, percussion), and you've got yourself some pretty mind-bending dance music.
Nels Andrews' most recent release finds him fronting El Paso Eyepatch, his live band that features multi-instrumentalist Jeffrey Richards. Like Crazy Horse, EPE can be incendiary and legendarily powerful when it comes to extended jamming and/or solo sections that swell and recede in ocean-like waves of sonic resolve. But the 'Patch's work on this batch of Andrews' songs is more restrained for the most part, showing yet another side of this fine collective of talent and passion. Andrews' melodic structures recall Lyle Lovett, while he's vocally on-par with guys like Josh Ritter. Nice!
The Reagan-Bush Affair. Salon.com just keeps on opening a daily can of editorial whoop-ass on Dubya like no other news source in America. Recently, the e-zine was the first to seize upon Ronald Reagan Jr.'s scorn for the current Bush administration. At his father's burial service, Ron Jr., said: "Dad was ... a deeply, unabashedly religious man. But he never made the fatal mistake of so many politicians wearing his faith on his sleeve to gain political advantage." The statement clearly rebuked the current Bush administration's faith-based governmental policies, and days later Salon scored an exclusive interview with the famous dog show host that has since made it difficult for Bush to wrap himself in the Reagan legacy.
South Valley Bosque fire gets doused with a dose of manic hysteria
By Tim McGivern
On the night of Thursday, June 10, Bernalillo County Fire Chief Bett Clark was leading a troop of local TV reporters down Brown Road in the South Valley, to the property where a fire in the Bosque ignited earlier that afternoon.
The Gipper was a low-rent actor, and Dubya's in a category by himself
By Jerry Ortiz y Pino
Listening to, watching and reading the tidal wave of elegiac gushings occasioned by the death of former President Ronald Reagan was a peculiar experience for me. I mean, I had no idea who it was that they were all gushing about. It certainly wasn't the man I remembered.
Time to demand more accountability from the judiciary
By Greg Payne
Reforming the state's judicial system is a hot topic no matter where you turn these days. Whether certain state legislators, journalists, trial lawyers or judges of New Mexico choose to acknowledge it, the overwhelming majority of our residents suspect that something is rotten in Denmark or, in this case, something is screwy within the halls of justice. And it is.
Dateline: Poland—Plastic surgery: It's not just for movie stars anymore. The seaside town of Ustka is giving a makeover to its official mascot, the Ustka mermaid. The classical seafaring image, featured on the town's coat of arms, is used in tourism campaigns. City officials announced earlier this year that the mermaid's waist would be reduced and her bust enhanced in an attempt to lure tourists. An Ustka official says the breast enhancement will make the mermaid “more attractive and Ustka will gain publicity.”
Everyone from filmmakers to spoken worders to slammers, fire throwers, drag acts, musicians, visual artists and satirical clowns have hopped onto the stage at Backroads Pizza over the past year. They've come to Santa Fe's new hipster hangout at the invitation of the legendary Cooper Lee Bombardier, a transgender visual artist and performer who hosts a monthly queer and trans performance cabaret called Lisp.
Buddy! The Buddy Holly Story at the Albuquerque Little Theatre
By Steven Robert Allen
Among the pantheon of golden age rock and rollers, Buddy Holly is in a class by himself. He didn't have Chuck Berry's poetry or riffs. He didn't have Little Richard's erotic, animalistic fury. He didn't have Elvis' slippery voice or demonic pelvis. What Holly did have, however, was an immediately identifiable hiccupy singing style that expressed so much more than the plain meaning of his goofy, teen-oriented lyrics. He also had a choppy guitar technique that, while not as flashy as Berry's, made up for its lack of intricacy with pure, raw emotional force. (For my taste, the chord-based break in "Peggy Sue" ranks among the greatest guitar solos of all time.)
The Israel Solo Show Festival in Acco, Israel has traditionally only featured Arab performers. Next month, however, our very own Kerry Morrigan, of Tricklock Company fame, will be the first American ever invited to perform in the festival. Is that cool or what? Her one-woman show, Death's Door, which she performed in January during the Revolutions International Theatre Festival, showcases some of her trapeze work. Catch it now before she boards a jet bound for the land of oil and blood. Morrigan will perform Death's Door for one weekend only at the Tricklock Performance Space on Friday, June 25, and Saturday, June 26, at 8 p.m., and Sunday, June 27, at 6 p.m. $12 general, $9 students/seniors. 254-8393.
For New Mexicans the subject might be old hat, but Europeans, I've noticed, are often obsessed with the Wild West. Starting this weekend, three Europeans (Stefka Ammon, Bjorn Hegardt and Godrun Rauwolf) and an American (Ethan D. Jackson) will re-examine the cultural refuse of the West in an exhibit that's traveled from Berlin to Philadelphia to Texas and finally comes to downtown Albuquerque's 516 Magnífico Artspace. The show gives us locals a chance to view our own cultural heritage through the eyes of some very perceptive outsiders. Wild West opens this Friday with a reception from 6:30 to 8 p.m. and runs through July 31. 242-8244.
If you're thinking of trying out the basil remedy for cramps then you ought to consider growing your own basil plants. Much of the fresh basil found in grocery stores is a different variety, normally called sweet basil. Holy basil is native to Asia and is the familiar flavor found in Thai dishes. The name holy basil comes from the sacred status of the herb in Ayurvedic traditions; many researchers claim that holy basil has higher concentrations of the active ingredients. Look in the herb section at the nursery and examine the plant tags carefully, looking for the word holy or the Latin name, ocimum sanctum. Holy basil is available with red or green leaves that have jagged edges; other varieties have smooth-edged leaves. This stuff has a much more pungent aroma and flavor but there's no reason you can't use it in recipes that call for the regular kind. Try filling a big pot with a combination of red and green plants. Pinch off the flowers when they come up and you'll have leaves at least until the winter.
Looking for a quiet place to sit and have a cup of tea? Hadley's Tea opened about a month ago at 7600 Jefferson NE, Suite 9 (near Café Voilà and Hello Deli!). Owner Linda Butler serves both hot and iced teas, and a dozen or so pastries from Le Chantilly. Butler's stock includes over 100 types of teas and though they're all for sale, she rotates a smaller selection through the tea menu so customers choose from a list of around 20 teas on any given day. Hadley's also serves chai from Anapurna chai house and one daily coffee selection. Butler used to own Linda's Antiques and Sweets, a small shop on "antique row" in Nob Hill. At Hadley's, she sells all sorts of tea accessories but not antiques. Stop by and check it out or call 821-4832 to inquire about the tea menu.
The technical name for this beautiful and delectable apparatus is "scape." Such a harsh name—sounds more like an injury, or a disease, or misplaced blame—is a cruel injustice to the world of pleasure the name represents. That's why I refer to them as flowers, despite the fact that botanists advise otherwise. At least I'm not alone.
Why does eating a handful of fresh basil seem to relieve menstrual cramps? Sounds crazy, yes, but it's true and (who knew?) there are actually several good scientific reasons why. Years ago, the sous chef of the hotel I cooked at turned me on to this basil thing. I had terrible cramps at work and he told me to roll up 10 or 12 leaves of fresh basil and chew them. By the time I had picked the last green bit from between my incisors, the cramps had abated.
City folks get in touch with the land through community garden projects
By Gwyneth Doland
It's the tomatoes we complain about most. Pale, salmon colored and hard as baseballs, they barely look like real tomatoes much less taste like them. Even the pretty red ones with vines attached come from Holland and the flavor suffers from the journey. Like peaches, tomatoes are very delicate fruits that taste best when picked ripe and eaten immediately—but they don't survive the rigors of shipping if picked ripe. So we're stuck with tasteless tomatoes that have probably been grown with tons of chemicals and then sprayed with gas in order to look ripe. Or are we? Tomatoes grow well here; they love the sun and tolerate the heat. Many of us remember the tomatoes our parents or grandparents grew, on their farms, in their gardens and in pots on the patio. Why can't we buy tomatoes like that in the grocery stores?
MCI's defection caused by “several negative factors”
By Ryan Floersheim
The words economic development flow easily across the lips of New Mexico politicians who build their careers on promises of improving the quality of life and improving the state's unemployment rate by bringing a steady flow of new jobs to town. However, in order to make good on this promise they often resort to courting flighty companies that bring with them low-level, menial jobs and an abrupt exit strategy that leaves the local economy staggered.
After last week's marathon coverage of former-President Ronald Reagan's death went from sublime to surreal, a little dose of reality is in order. Not to bash Reagan (it is tragic that his brain died at least 10 years before his body would admit it), but after reading a full-page elegy in the Wall Street Journal that practically deified the Gipper and looking at seven days of awe-struck headlines in the Albuquerque Journal, I was left to wonder: Where is the news media getting all this information about Reagan being one of the most popular presidents of the 20th century? Well, not from Gallup polling data.
The June 7 City Council meeting seemed close to scoring unanimous agreement on every bill. Councilors Brad Winter and Craig Loy were excused, leaving seven members racing for the historic goal. It looked like a sure thing coming into the home stretch, but then the next to last bill regarding a city Personnel Board appointment hit the table around 9 p.m. By this time, Councilors Sally Mayer and Tina Cummins had also vanished from the track, leaving only five members galloping toward agreement. Four voted down the appointment, but Council President Michael Cadigan supported the bill and became Albuquerque's Birdstone, wrecking the unanimous record.
Another take on East Downtown's urban renewal efforts
By Jerry Ortiz y Pino
I was amazed at the reaction I got to my recent piece suggesting gentrification (in the form of the East of Downtown Development just approved by the Planning Commission) might be a blessing for some neighborhoods, not a curse.
Dateline: Germany—This disgusting highway spill-over story comes to us from Bremen, where a truck hauling 9,000 gallons of pig blood spilled its entire cargo on the Autobahn last Wednesday after it was rear-ended. At least one other vehicle crashed due to the sanguinary spill-over. Authorities had to close the highway for several hours. The truck had reportedly been hauling the waste blood from the Netherlands for disposal.
Compared to his 2002 album, All Rise, which consisted of an extended composition for big band, gospel choir and symphony orchestra—some 200 players, all told—trumpet virtuoso Wynton Marsalis' latest platter is child's play. Which, according to Marsalis, was the point. "I wanted to restate my basic love of jazz music in a quartet format," he says.
Magic Hour is Marsalis' debut for the legendary Blue Note label, and represents a marked departure from his recent ensemble work. By surrounding himself with a cast of youthful musicians for whom he served variously as a musical mentor during their formative years, Marsalis has managed to build a record from the ground up, beginning with bassist Carlos Henriquez' bouncing grooves, accented by Ali Jackson's intuitive drumwork and rounded out melodically by Eric Lewis at the piano and, of course, Marsalis taking the lead on trumpet.
If you've never seen Cape Breton fiddling virtuoso Natalie MacMaster and her phenomenal band, you'll get your chance on Friday, June 18, at the Rio Grande Zoo at 7 p.m. (show up as early as 5:30 p.m. to get a good space on the grass). Those of you who have seen her need no further prodding. See you there. ... The Big Spank are set to usher in the release of their new CD on Friday, June 18, at the Launchpad with performances by special guests Concepto Tambor, Ask the Man, The Disclaimers, AVISO and Suburban Shock Syndrome. This one's all ages, so get there at 8 p.m. ... The ugliest, most misogynistic dancehall reggae legend the world has ever known, Yellowman, will return to Albuquerque with the Sagittarius Band for a show at the Sunshine Theater on Saturday, June 19, at 8 p.m. ... ZoukFest presents The Jenny Vincent Trio, Spanish-American dance music from New Mexico on Sunday, June 20, at the Adobe Bar in Taos from 6 to 9 p.m. Contact Roger Landes at (505) 751-3512 or email@example.com for more information. ... Ray Charles' funeral should have been at least three times bigger than Ronald Reagan's, but hey, that's just my opinion.
Friday, June 18; Mountainside YMCA (12500 Comanche NE, 292-2298, all ages, 7 p.m.): I've long held that the “Battle of the Bands” is one of the worst concepts ever spewed forth. It does nothing but pit loca bands against each other and create animosity when what's really needed is unity. Thank the Baby Jesus that the YMCA got it right. “Band It” is a music showcase in which eight local bands will appear on one stage to perform their original music for an audience of their peers and a few older folks like myself.
Saturday, June 19; Stella Blue (21 and over, 9 p.m.): On the strength of a rushed demo and without ever having played a proper live show, newgrass phenoms Railroad Earth found themselves with invitations to the three most prestigious bluegrass/folk festivals in the United States, followed shortly thereafter by a recording contract with Sugar Hill, a couple of road stints and a rabid underground following.
Who would have thought that listening to the blues can make you feel happy?
This can be said for W.C. Clark's music which is described as soul cleansing blues. Listening to Clark's music is an enlightening experience, that makes you feel baptized and born again after just one listen.
Clark combines the blues with rock 'n' roll, funk, ragtime and big band styles. He is BB King, Ray Charles, Chuck Barry and Muddy Waters all rolled into one, combined with his own unique style of Austin Blues.
If it wasn't for bands like NYC's Candiria, filling the void left by the demise of Helmet and Quicksand, I'd have taken my own life a long time ago. Tragically, Candiria's last tour took the life of their van, equipment and, very nearly, the lives of all five members when a semi smashed into them at freeway speed. After two years of physical and mental recovery, Candira are back with their fourth—and best—record. Part prog metal, part hardcore and part classic thrash, this one's close to perfect.
Overblown sci-fi spectacle still explosive entertainment
By Devin D. O'Leary
Vin Diesel is pretty much the definition of a modern, manufactured movie star. He's famous, but it's a little hard to figure out why. He's usually cited as the star of The Fast and The Furious and xXx. Fast and the Furious made a respectable $140 million at the box office. Unfortunately, the non-Diesel-fueled sequel, 2 Fast 2 Furious, made $130 million without him. xXx also made $140 million. Unfortunately, it cost nearly $90 million to make. Like 2 Fast before it, the sequel will be made without Diesel's expensive help.
Lightweight romantic comedy reaches new heights on airy charm
By Devin D. O'Leary
While pal George Lucas continues to isolate himself from the realities of filmmaking, emerging occasionally from his hermetically sealed “ranch” to exert Nero-like control over yet another inaccessible Star Wars sequel, Steven Spielberg seems to be moving in the opposite direction. Spielberg's last movie outing was the jaunty little caper Catch Me If You Can. Though it boasted the star power of Leonardo DiCaprio and Tom Hanks, it was a simple, modestly budgeted character piece. So too is his latest work, the humble romantic comedy The Terminal.
Everybody of a certain age cites the 1979 Salem's Lot mini-series as one of the scariest things they've ever seen—largely due to one creepy ass dead kid scratching at a bedroom window. At the tender age of 10, that particular image was more than enough to haunt my dreams for weeks. Fright fans will be happy to note that TNT's new update of Stephen King's smash novel retains the kid.
I'm folk. You're folk. He's folk. She's folk. Folk music, folk art and folk culture can be made and played by anyone. That's the beauty of it. Last year, I had the pleasure of attending the Albuquerque Folk Festival, and I have to tell you I had a sweet banjo-pickin' good time from morning 'til night.
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest at the Vortex Theatre
By Steven Robert Allen
At one point or another in their lives, many otherwise normal people have felt like they could use some time in a mental institution. I know I have. Mental illness isn't black and white. Those suffering from it are capable of moments of startling lucidity. Those who usually behave sanely are capable of skipping off the brink into the abyss.
Nicasio and Janet Romero's Gallery and Sculpture Park
By Steven Robert Allen
The heat down here in Albuquerque is driving locals north in droves. This weekend many of them will be driving up to the El Ancon Outdoor Sculpture Show in the picturesque Pecos River Valley. In its 17th year, the show has become a staple on the calendar of many New Mexican art enthusiasts. The show opens this Sunday, June 20, with a party featuring live music as well as paintings, sculpture, prints and drawings by over 40 artists. After Sunday, the show will be open to the public by appointment only through August 1. For directions call (505) 421-7057.
Nobody conjures up a stormy landscape better than Angus Macpherson. There's nothing static about a Macpherson painting. In his vision of the world, nature is in a constant state of flux. His often brightly colored landscapes also seem to crackle with emotion. An exhibit of paintings from Macpherson's "Rain Series" opens this Friday, June 18, with a reception from 5 to 8 p.m. at his own MoRo Gallery. The show will run through July 15. 242-6272.
Can't be with your dad on his special day? Celebrate Father's Day the way the Old Man would if he were around: Get drunk and fall asleep on the couch watching reruns of "Shadetree Mechanic." Be sure to wear your filthiest jeans and don't take your shoes off before you get comfy on the new white couch. Then, spread a thick litter of dad snacks in a wide circle around your body, making sure that at least half of the crumbs get pushed down between the sofa cushions. (For real authenticity, throw about $4 worth of loose change under the cushions too.) Shop ahead for a bag of honey mesquite barbecue-flavored potato chips, some jalapeño beef jerky, a can or two of cheese puffs and a tall tin of mixed nuts. Dads don't give a damn about calories—except when it comes to beer—so neither should you. Don't worry that each handful of nuts contains 14 grams of fat, you're drinking Bud Light! Don't answer the phone or get up for any reason other than to avert an impending rupture of your distended bladder. Then, around 6 p.m., get up the energy to make a run for a bucket of fried chicken and more beer. Get back on the couch but switch to whatever channel is running the James Bond marathon. Enjoy!
Somebody at Wrigley should be fired. In fact, a whole team of hacks need to get canned for releasing the world's most hideously disgusting chewing gum. Just when you thought the extreme flavor revolution had reached its pinnacle, the mad scientists over Wrigley dig deep into their vaults to unearth this wretched beast of a grocery store checkout line impulse buy. Showing that the experience of flavor is a vicious circle, not an unending march in the direction of tastebud pleasure progress, Wrigley's Eclipse team has come up with new maddeningly repulsive cough syrup flavored gum. Actually, the stuff is called Uniquely Soothing Cherry Chill. What's uniquely soothing is that the gag-inducing cherry flavor has a slow-release menthol aftertaste that will cool your throat after you vomit. I encourage you, dear readers, to avoid the stuff at all costs. I also highly encourage the in-house counsel at Robitussin to consider suing Wrigley for raiding their flavor files.
Although people get hitched all year 'round, brides' magazines bloom on supermarket racks in the spring. Filling their pages, in between the infinite glossy ads, are articles designed to make the ceremonious marriage rite run smoother, classier and sometimes cheaper. I'm not married—nor planning to be—but browsing through these mags makes me realize that the endless wedding decisions can drive you to cancellation. The wine choice shouldn't be the hardest, but, if you're to believe what you read, some intimidated brides feel it is. Ignore the overwhelmed feeling ... it should be fun, easy and inexpensive.
Spanish food is perfect for summer. When it's hot and you're feeling sluggish—not peckish—and little plates of cool tapas come to the table, your tummy is suddenly ready for some action. In the summertime, Santa Feans are particularly fond of El Farol, a Spanish restaurant in a beautiful old adobe on Canyon Road. There, Chef James Campbell Caruso puts out a mouthwatering menu of tapas that can reinvigorate even the most wilted appetites. Santa Fe can be too far for us to drive when the mood suddenly strikes so aren't we lucky that El Farol finally published a cookbook? The eponymously titled El Farol (hardcover, Gibbs Smith, $29.95) is a collection of the chef's favorite dishes, including a large collection of both cold and hot tapas. Here's a preview of the book, a collection of tapas (plus soup and dessert) that would work beautifully together as a refreshing backyard dinner.
A local Log Cabin Republican talks about the difficulties of belonging to a political party that proclaims a "big tent strategy" on one hand and opposes equality for homosexuals on the other.
By Tim McGivern
At 24, Patrick Killen is a seasoned veteran of New Mexico politics. He started working as a legislative page in Santa Fe when he was 15 and today operates a political consulting company working exclusively for Republicans. He's a true-blooded party loyalist who has nothing but respect and admiration for President George W. Bush. Killen also happens to be gay, which in some circles of his party makes him as popular as a skunk at a church picnic. How does Killen reconcile his personal life with his political loyalties? Read on.
Get a stiff one with some help from our queer club guide.
By Laura Marrich
Gay bars come and go with surprising frequency in Albuquerque. Hell, even veteran scenesters have a hard time keeping track of what's available from time to time. But if you've recently come into town or out of the closet, deciding where to spend your evening can be that much more confusing (and potentially disastrous). Don't want to end up an Alice in Leatherland? Tired of beating around the bush? Find the scene that's right for you with our lineup of clubs, bars and booze-holes that help put the "queer" in Albuquerque.
For those of you who don't know, especially club owners and talent buyers, our calendars editor of the past two-and-a-half years, Rachel Heisler, has moved on to the hellish desert shithole that is Las Vegas, Nev., where she hopes to land a job with the Las Vegas Weekly and pursue musical endeavors. Luckily, though, we won't have to 86 our calendars, because the more-than-capable and immensely talented and friendly Laura Marrich (pronounced Merrick, like the Elephant Man) has come on board as our new calendars editor. All calendar rules remain the same, but you'll need to contact firstname.lastname@example.org (or email@example.com for those of you bad with names) to continue to get your listings published for free. Good luck, Rachel, and welcome Laura! ... Whatever you do, don't miss Alabama Thunderpussy with Rwake and our own Fivehundred on Friday, June 11, at the Launchpad. ... On Friday, June 18, the Mountainside YMCA will host “Band Together,” a showcase of local bands at the Mountainside branch (12500 Comanche NE, 292-2298) from 7 p.m. to midnight. The event will be headlined by Unit 7 Drain at 11:15 p.m. and is sponsored by the fine folks at Music Go Round, so that's where you should spend your money. Look for details right here in next week's issue.
On his first album for Heart & Soul Records, Bay Area bluesman Tommy Castro makes it abundantly clear that there's no room in his soul for blues-lite. Gratitude is marked by its staunch refusal to shove anything but pure, expressively crafted jump blues across the table, all of which, in this case, was written by one of Castro's influences. Backed by a phenomenal band, including saxophonist Keith Crossan, Castro steps his best Albert Collins up to the plate—a fiery guitar style not, thankfully, mired in cliché ridden Texas blues, the West Coast rut or the safety of the Chicago sound. Instead, Castro infuses hints of classic R&B and blues rock into this collection, affording himself songs that virtually stand alone among contemporary blues.
Comedian Patton Oswalt has appeared in plenty of movies and on television shows from “Late Night” to “The Man Show,” but his first full-length recording contains material more akin to his HBO specials. Feelin' Kinda Patton runs the rather broad comedic gamut between dick jokes and high-brow analyses of the impending apocalypse. Oswalt handles all of his material with the same verve and panache as comedy's current Golden Boy, David Cross, but he's got his own brand of edginess. This one's a screamer by any standard, and specifically geared toward Bill Hicks' fans.
My Last KISS Interview Ever (with apologies to Brett Baker)
By Michael Henningsen
Farewell, my ass. Count KISS among the many bands who've hoopla'ed their farewell tours only to quietly hit the road again shortly thereafter in search of more money, acceptance and, as KISS founding member Paul Stanley puts it, the "high." So they changed their minds. So what? Michael Jordan did it. Dennis Rodman is threatening to do it and the number of rock bands that have done it—many of them multiple times—is nearly inconceivable.
To some of us, summer means sleep-away camp, ice cream sandwiches and catching fireflies at dusk. To others, it means Jell-O shots. I fondly remember (some of) a delightful week spent at the Eastern shore right after I graduated from high school. Somehow we found time to break away from spitting off the balcony and doing beer bongs just long enough to whip up a batch of cherry-flavored Jell-O shots. We used an Everclear-to-water ratio of about one to none, I believe, and consequently the shots took forever to gel. Luckily we were already too wasted to care! We slurped that mucky red ectoplasm right out of the ice cube trays like pigs at the trough! If any of this sounds familiar, you'll appreciate Jiggelo, a new book full of recipes for gelatin shots. You may think your Jell-O shot days are over. You may be wrong. Sure, the majority of these concoctions sound like they might only be appealing to the 18-year-old You, but couldn't the more mature You get excited about a Jell-O shot based on the classic Negroni cocktail? Think about it—not just plain orange gelatin but a delicate balance of gin, sweet red vermouth, Campari and mandarin orange segments. Wouldn't you be the most popular dad at Saturday's soccer game? I thought so. Pick up a copy of Jiggelo by Mary Breidenbach, Barrett J. Calhoun and Sharon L. Calhoun (paperback, Ten Speed Press, $12. 95).
After a months-long spate of serving only dinner, Nob Hill hot spot Scalo is again serving lunch. The lunch menu, unlike Scalo's inventive dinner menu, does not offer dishes grouped by size (small, medium or large plates). Instead, it is a brief and modest menu that is so affordably priced even the most frugal diner couldn't complain about the bill. A bowl of gazpacho with peeky toe crab costs only $6, a housemade sausage sandwich with bell peppers, onions, mozzarella and Napa cabbage slaw runs only $9 and the fried chicken club with penne pasta salad is a reasonable $8. Stop by and check it out Tuesday through Friday from 11:30 a.m. until 2 p.m.
Cheryl and Bill Jamison's Chicken on the Grill (hardcover, $24.95, William Morrow)
By Gwyneth Doland
“Grilled chicken must be the most frequently botched food in America.” So begins this new book from Santa Fe-based cookbook authors who brought us the popular backyard smoker book Smoke and Spice. For this volume, the authors devoted their full attention to a particularly worthy topic—they're right about grilled chicken; it's almost always overcooked and devoid of flavor. In Chicken on the Grill's first chapter, the Jamisons offer simple, uncomplicated methods for avoiding the most common pitfalls, advising grillers to keep the grill's lid open while cooking and maintain a moderate heat using a hand test. Other chapters focus on skewers; boneless, skinless breasts; chicken salads and pastas, whole chickens and sandwiches. The recipes range from Asian to Southwestern to East Indian and will leave you with absolutely no excuse for serving plain-old dry chicken breasts.
This column is in response to a reader's e-mail that asked, “Could you do a little list of food or herbal remedies for sunburn sometime soon? Someone told me [to try] mashed potatoes for sunburn and I am wondering if there is something more inconspicuous. ...” Mashed potatoes? Now that's an entertaining thought. If laughter is the best medicine then surely slathering oneself in cold mashed potatoes would take the pain away.
The "Sandoval 64," the 32 same-sex couples that were married a few months ago, celebrated the day that changed their lives, and the history of the state, Sunday afternoon with a crowd of more than 500 friends and family members.
An election is just past and summer is here in full force, but before we fully shift our focus to the wildfires blazing around the state and stories about the Rio Grande running dry, a postmortem is appropriate. Following are a few thoughts on the winners, losers and in-betweens from the June 1 primary election.
Gay couples in Massachusetts are getting legally married in droves but that story is nowhere near as hot as the dubiously legal San Francisco weddings of February. Someday soon, probably very soon, the topic of gay marriage will be as tired and boring as Janet Jackson's right boob. The reason is this: Gay marriage is exactly the same as regular old marriage except they're gay. Big whup. Let the Bible thumpers froth at the mouth over how gay marriage will bring about the imminent demise of the world as we know it. Don't forget, these are the same people who predicted the end of marriage if women were allowed to vote, own property or earn their own money. Marriage between same-sex couples is simply the newest step in the evolution of a cultural institution that has been in flux since it began.
"Which candidate will end this tortured misadventure the quickest?"
By Jerry Ortiz y Pino
One of the truisms about war is that it's the innocent bystanders, the civilians, the children and the noncombatants who absorb most of the damage that takes place. We are now beginning to see just how extensive the "collateral damage" from Mr. Bush's grand invasion of Iraq will eventually prove to be.
Dateline: England—Michael Gunn, a 21-year-old student at Kent University, is suing the school for not warning him that plagiarizing is wrong. “I did plagiarize,” Gunn admitted to FOX news service. “I never dreamt it was a problem.” Gunn was told on the eve of his final exams that he wouldn't be getting any grades for this past semester's course work because all his papers turned out to be lifted in their entirety from various Internet sites. Gunn apparently felt the activity was condoned by the university because he had turned in several stolen papers and “no one spotted it.” According to the BBC, Gunn is suing the university for the return of his tuition money because he should have been warned that using already published text was against the rules. Unfortunately for Gunn, students who may be misinformed about the definition of plagiarism are given guidelines that say lifting material from other sources and passing it off as their own is against school regulations. “In the School of English, this information is provided in the faculty handbook and in the department's own handbook, both of which are issued to all students,” deputy vice-chancellor of Kent University David Nightingale told reporters.
Cover Me—Closet Cinema, the organization behind Albuquerque's annual Gay and Lesbian Film Festival is looking for original art that can be used on the poster and the program cover for this year's festival. If your artwork is selected, you're guaranteed a few goodies and some great recognition. The 2004 Southwest Gay and Lesbian Film Festival will take place Sept. 9-12. Deadline for submitting poster art is June 25, so get on the ball. For more information about the contest or the festival, go to www.closetcinema.org.
Art house theater goes dark, but there is a ray of hope
By Devin D. O'Leary
In June of 2002, Madstone Theaters opened for business in Albuquerque's Northeast Heights. It is some sort of fitting symmetry that in June, 2004, the movie theater has shut down. The eight-screen venue, built on the location of the old San Mateo 8, specialized mostly in art films and foreign cinema. It was there that countless Albuquerque viewers caught their first glimpse of films like Y Tu Mamá También, Bowling for Columbine, Nowhere in Africa, Whale Rider,City of God and countless others.In two short years, Madstone made a discernible mark on the our city's arts community, and many local viewers were shocked to hear of its sudden, unexpected demise.
If there was any lingering doubt whether or not NBC's late, lamented “Must See TV” lineup is dead and gone, I submit to you “Come to Papa.” The show is NBC's latest attempt to fill one of many holes in its bullet-riddled Thursday night schedule. With “Friends” gone, “Scrubs” pulling a double shift on Tuesdays and Thursdays and “The Apprentice” frantically working to come up with a second season, NBC is actually taking the radical step of debuting a new sitcom during the notoriously ratings-deficient summer season. Of course, the move doesn't demonstrate the greatest of confidence in the show. If “Papa” manages to catch on and survive until the fall season, it will be a TV miracle roughly equivalent to the second coming of Gilligan.
Mutilated and mistreated, this martial arts fantasy is still a kick in the grass.
By Devin D. O'Leary
The Weinstein brothers, the heavyweights behind Miramax films, have been steadfast supporters of the independent film scene for decades. Recently, when backed against a wall by their mouse-eared overlords, they purchased the rights to Michael Moore's incendiary documentary Fahrenheit 9/11 out of their own pockets. The film will now hit theaters later this summer thanks to several movie studios who are collaborating to release it independent of the Bush-fearing Disney corporation ... all of which makes Miramax's longtime treatment of foreign films all the more puzzling. For the self-appointed saviors of independent cinema, Miramax has treated its overseas acquisitions with a mixture of shameful neglect and outright abuse. Take, for example, the Hong Kong action comedy Shaolin Soccer.
I can't tell you how excited I am about our upcoming Ridiculously Short Fiction Contest. Submissions are already streaming in and although the Alibi's dedicated supreme council of fiction judges hasn't yet tackled the pile, I'm personally convinced there are dozens of gems hidden inside that mountain of creativity. The deadline is Friday, June 11, at 5 p.m., so there still might be time to get your ultra-short fictional masterpieces into the Alibi. Stories must be no longer than 100 words (including title, if any). Three entries maximum per person. Send all stories to 2118 Central SE, PMB #151, Albuquerque, NM 87106-4004 or e-mail them to firstname.lastname@example.org (no attachments). Winners, as always, will be showered with prizes and glory. Best of luck to everyone. We will print the winners and honorable mentions in the June 24 issue of the Alibi.
From Above: Images of a Storied Land at the Albuquerque Museum
By Steven Robert Allen
A lot of people get freaked out by flying. For whatever reason, I'm not one of them. My fearlessness has little to do with any innate courage. The main reason flying doesn't terrify me is because it doesn't seem either real or possible. I still find it hard to believe that a big hunk of metal can lift off the ground under its own power. Aside from a few bumps—what they call "turbulence" in the trade—spending a couple hours in an airplane is like spending a couple hours in a cramped apartment watching an aerial view of clouds and mountains on a tiny oval-screened television.
Some of O'Keeffe's very best paintings depict dramatic aspects of the New Mexico landscape. The terrain of our state, of course, is what initially drew O'Keeffe to the Southwest. In this high desert, she found the divine inspiration needed to become one of the most celebrated artists of the 20th century. The first exhibit to ever focus on this aspect of her work opens this weekend at the Georgia O'Keeffe Museum in Santa Fe. A Sense of Place will run through Sept. 12. (505) 946-1000.
Outside of Spain, there are very few places in the world that enjoy the quality of flamenco performances we regularly witness here in Albuquerque. One of the best chances to see brilliant flamenco performers is during the annual Festival Flamenco Internacional de Albuquerque. The 18th installment of the festival runs from June 11 through June 18 and features such extraordinary flamenco artists as Manuela Carrasco, Joaquin Amador and Israel Galván. Most of the performances will occur in UNM's Rodey Theatre. You can purchase tickets by calling (800) 905-3315 or by logging onto www.tickets.com. For details, log onto www.feelflamenco.com.