The Flaming Lips are known as The Fearless Freaks for a reason: They’ve been responsible for some of the strangest, most hallucinatory rock music of the past 30 years. But the past few months have been especially chaotic (and productive) for the Oklahoma psych-wizards: They released the moody The Terror back in April, and they’ve followed with the excellent Peace Sword EP (written for the upcoming Ender’s Game film — and which I reviewed here) and plenty of their typical stage shenanigans. For this year’s Black Friday extravaganza, the band is putting the crazy factor by 1,000 percent: Just as an audio appetizer, they’ll release a vinyl copy of Peace Sword, along with a covers album of The Stone Roses’ first LP and a collaborative song-swap EP with Tame Impala.

And it wouldn’t be a Flaming Lips holiday without unnecessary edible stuff. According to Rolling Stone, Wayne Conye and company are also planning a chocolate surprise for the Black Friday event.

“It’s all made out of chocolate, it’s a life-size human skull, a life-sized human brain, and the brain is actually sliding out of the skull made with this brain fluid flavored hard-candy,” Coyne says. “And there’s a little magic coin inside that brain that you’re supposed to dig out. I think it’s supposed to get you into any Flaming Lips show in the world. I think that’s our intention. So, a lot of stuff and always moving towards the deadline, but I think those first three for sure will happen and we’ll see if the chocolate skull will happen. If not, it’ll be around for Christmas.”

Meanwhile, Coyne also reveals another exclusive for the Record Store Day holiday: a toy frog (dubbed, naturally, “Fuck You Frog”) that includes a recording of the band’s first demo.

“(It) got finished just literally yesterday and it’s got a little seven-inch that goes with it,” he says. “That is our very first demo that we ever recorded that’s never been released before. So you get that in this packet. This little frog that’s kind of a recorder that you can manipulate the sound on.”

So…just to recap: After stuffing your piehole this Thanksgiving, head over to your local record store and buy The Flaming Lips’ toy frog, chocolate brain, and 800 albums worth of music.

Happy holidays, Wayne Coyne — you brilliant bastard.

“This is art, Mr. White!”

These words, of course, dropped infamously from the mouth of Jesse Pinkman in the very first episode of AMC’s Breaking Bad, upon seeing — for the first time — Walter White’s take on methamphetamine production. “Actually,” responded Walt, “It’s just basic chemistry.” Several episodes later, Walter would tweak their product to compensate for a series of obstacles, including — perhaps most notably — his desire to differentiate it from the competition, to signify its purity, to render it inimitable. Walter’s updated “artistic approach” resulted in this “new” crystal meth’s distinctive blue coloring.

On November 23, 1999, Third Eye Blind released their second album, entitled Blue. The album – featuring lead single “Never Let You Go” — followed one of the most successful “alternative rock” albums of all time, 1997′s Third Eye Blind. That album, featuring a slew of astronomically fantastic and gigantically successful singles, became the road map for rock radio of the late 90s, selling over six million copies in the United States alone. “Semi-Charmed Life” — a sort-of flagship song for that album, and for the band itself — propelled Third Eye Blind into mainstream vernacular with a velocity unmatched by their peers, who were often mired by the proverbial “gun to the head” crossover appeal. “Semi-Charmed Life” also, perhaps unintentionally, cast the great light of pop culture upon a heretofore un-glamorized (in this era, at least) facet of certain sectors of rock & roll: the almighty crystal meth.

I was a beautifully weird 10 years old when I first heard, and fell in love with, “Semi-Charmed Life.” My pre-school routine in the morning was: construct and enter my “blanket burrito,” ingest Toaster Strudels, and watch roughly an hour of VH1 before dousing my disproportionately large head with an unholy amount of hair gel and stripping myself entirely of confidence. My very identity, and — eventually — my restored confidence, was slowly bubbling beneath or somewhere near the 60 or so minutes of VH1 I subjected myself to during those 5th and 6th grade mornings. A key moment in my transitioning identity was “Semi-Charmed Life.” There was something effortlessly cool about the song, particularly the wordy strut of frontman Stephan Jenkins. However, as a 10 year old, my absorption of this “wordy strut” and its subsequently “effortless cool” was largely surface-level, almost entirely missing the subject matter of their 1997 album, despite my memorization of each word.

The album most in question here, the aforementioned Blue, proved less surface-level for me, as I was then on the verge of becoming a deeply and distractedly introspective teenager. Still, I wouldn’t truly begin to comfortably reside in the words of Third Eye Blind and, particularly, Blue until my freshman year of college. Neck-deep in the literary waters of an English degree (I would later drop out…twice), I started crafting makeshift dissertations on my favorite songwriters. Yes, for fun. Because that’s what word-nerds do. Third Eye Blind’s 2003 album, Out of the Vein, struck me particularly hard, though three years late, during my first drop-out-of-college/adult-world-hearbreak experience. Interestingly, 2009′s overtly political Ursa Major arrived in the middle of what I know realize was a remarkably anti-social period in my life. The album would eventually inspire me to get my metaphorical shit together, re-enrolling in school (It’s worth nothing that Jenkins reportedly graduated as valedictorian from Berkeley with a B.A. in English Literature), though eventually dropping out again, but savoring the intellectual camaraderie and inspiration, which eventually lead to my re-starting my own band.

As an “adult,” or – better yet and more specifically — a “twentysomething,” the lyrical content of Third Eye Blind’s discography — particularly the themes present on Blue – has grown to achieve new levels of personal significance and universal profundity. There is simply no doubting Jenkins’ place in rock music as one of its finest and most thoughtful lyricists. Blue, like Walter White’s reinvention of his own “perfect product” on Breaking Bad, showcased a group of artists seeking to acknowledge the importance of their previous effort whilst simultaneously rewriting the entire formula to render it, like Walter White’s “baby blue,” inimitable. Third Eye Blind, despite the odds against them in the musical landscape of the late ’90s, accomplished something which eluded most bands from that era: purity, in the form of an identity all their own. Not surprisingly, this identity has helped carry them through the decades without the horrific tarnish of nostalgia. They’ve retained their dedicated fan base, and have continued to redefine — without ever losing — their own unique relevance in pop culture.

My childhood pop culture nerd-dom carried over into adulthood with a vigor I should have expected, resulting in my endless research on — and resulting discussions of — the seemingly volatile inner-workings of Third Eye Blind, particularly Stephan Jenkins. Unarguably talented though he may be, any longtime follower of the band is astutely aware of the reportedly less-than-democratic policies implemented by Jenkins within the band, stemming (again, reportedly) from the band’s original recording contract with Elektra back in 1996. The publishing deal (between Jenkins and guitarist Kevin Cadogan) was, at that time, the largest publishing deal ever for an unsigned artist. Cadogan’s exit from the band in 2000, shortly after touring for Blue ended, took many fans by surprise. Naturally, a lawsuit was filed and, reportedly, later settled out of court. Tony Fredianelli was brought in to replace Cadogan, but was fired in 2010, resulting in another lawsuit against Jenkins.

“I did it for me. I liked it. I was good at it. And I was really — I was alive.“

- Walter White

From L to R: Cadogan, Jenkins, Hargreaves, Salazar

Perhaps Jenkins, like many prominent rock & roll frontmen and Walter Whites before him, is simply protecting his own “baby blue” albeit at the expense of anyone around him. Perhaps ego has influenced his seemingly cutthroat manner of control over Third Eye Blind, as both an artistic outlet and a business. Perhaps ego isn’t even a factor; perhaps the fear of losing this control simply fuels his decision-making.

Fans may never truly know, but for a little insight on the atmosphere of the Blue recording sessions, an atmosphere that I feel has — in many ways — informed this band for the past 13 years, I reached out to Kevin Cadogan via e-mail and was thrilled to learn that he was more than happy to discuss this iconic album in a refreshingly candid fashion.

Cowen: Blue, in my opinion, is very easily one of the most adventurous and daring rock albums of its time period. Instead of attempting to follow up the enormous success of your first album with a formulaic companion piece, which is often the path many bands choose (or are “forced” to choose) on their sophomore releases, you guys gave mainstream radio a swift kick in the teeth. The album touches on a multitude of genres, the least of which is “pop,” in the traditional sense. However, the album is still very much a pop album, and an accomplished one, at that. Now that some years have passed, and you’re obviously doing different things musically, how do you view the album, given the benefit of informed hindsight?

Cadogan: I am proud of my work on that record. I feel validated in respect to my efforts to get songs on the album that were either left off or were about to be discarded. For instance, the song “Wounded” did not have unanimous votes, and I had to do some convincing of [Jenkins]. The song “Gorgeous” was discarded from the album but later became a fan favorite. I’ve had many people write me and say they include the demo version in their playlists of Blue, and that feels good because it reaffirms to me that I had the right instincts about those songs. It was a good record I think could have been better. I knew it was going to be one of the last albums released in the 20th century (released November 1999), and I wanted it to reflect everything I had heard and experienced in music.

Are you able to “step out” of your involvement of the album and view it objectively for what it truly is, which is an important stepping stone for many younger bands who now cite Third Eye Blind (specifically the first two albums) as one of their greatest influences?

I don’t think an artist can truly “step out” of the work they create. Maybe some can, but I can’t. The album means different things to different people. Many people didn’t like “Never Let You Go” and its light pop sound turned them off the album. I can understand that, and I certainly wouldn’t hold it against anyone who felt that way. I think the first album was better conceived and more cohesive. It’s an honor that people are influenced by my work, whether it be the guitarist for Saturday Night Live or the kid down the street. It’s a nice feeling to be appreciated.

The guitar work on “Wounded,” particularly the intro and verses, is beautiful but unsettling. Complicated but wildly accessible. This unique style continues on the duration of the album. Did you find yourself intentionally refraining in certain areas? Did you want to be even more exploratory with what you were writing at the time?

I certainly did refrain in some areas and explore in others. Tracking the guitars for “Wounded” was an amazing experience because I was pretty much alone in beautiful Studio B at The Plant with a couple of great engineers, and I could do whatever I wanted. I had, of course, already demoed the song, but I hadn’t yet fleshed out all the guitar parts or textures. On [original bassist] Arion Salazar’s song “Ten Days Late,” I refrained because I felt too much guitar would clutter the song. Overall, I wanted the album to be very experimental.

Where were your heads at, both collectively and individually, when you guys really started to dive into new material after the whirlwind of tours surrounding the self-titled album? Did you have a united goal of outdoing yourselves, or did you simply aim to make something worthwhile?

Honestly, it was a very, very tough period. I had just learned that Stephan had all shares of our corporation issued to himself. I seemed to be alone in my disgust at the situation. Arion would say, years later, that he didn’t know what a partnership was or what was going on with the business. It was a lot like what Axl Rose did with Guns & Roses. Because of this, I thought about quitting every day and felt I would do so after the tour for [Blue]. These were difficult circumstances going into a record and trying to be creative.

The making of the album was, simply put, not a united effort — not even close. I was desperately trying to get some ownership and Stephan was desperately trying to get rid of the person standing in his way of complete ownership. In reality, before we even tracked a note for Blue, plans were being made to replace me. I would later learn through the manager that every effort was being made to get me off the record deal at that point. Blue was almost never made.

After the tour for the debut and during this contentious period, Stephan and I decided to set things aside and get to work at my house. I held out hope that the band wouldn’t be shut out of ownership of our trademark. We set up some equipment and had the engineer, Jason Carmer, come over and record our ideas. This two-week period was the first and only time we collaborated on anything since writing songs for the debut. I am proud to say that I did my best, given the situation, to give fans a great record. The business of the band was awful, but the music, at times, was great.

My friends and I often refer to this album as a “headphones album,” meaning many of the layers and intricacies are lost unless you truly immerse yourself in the album. Would you agree? What are some other albums that you consider to be “headphones albums”?

The Dark Side of the Moon is a “headphones album.” So are War and October by U2. I always try to create interesting atmospheres that work well with headphones. Ping-pong delays, dry and distorted panned guitars, reverse echoes; things like that make for good headphone listening.

In their review of Blue, Entertainment Weekly called your guitar work “lyrical,” which I feel is a very accurate description. Do you feel that’s the key to the overwhelming success of these two albums? The guitar almost serves as a second vocalist on both of these albums, which definitely set Third Eye Blind apart from your radio contemporaries of the time.

That’s very nice that EW would say that. I don’t think I ever read that. I have always felt that the guitar sound and the melodies were a huge part of the band’s success. Also, our live performance working as a band, not hired hands in the shadows. You can tell when you are watching a real band where the guys that are playing are the ones that actually put the sweat into creating the music. Third Eye Blind, for me, was never going to work as a “hired band” situation. I know the audiences that we were playing for felt that authenticity, and that was a big reason why we sold so many records during the debut tour.

What are your current and future plans for XEB (Cadogan and Arion Salazar’s post-3EB project, featuring reworked versions of songs from Third Eye Blind and Blue) and any solo work?

The guitar work that I am most proud of is on my first solo record. Back then, it was called Bully For You. It is now re-released as Wunderfoot. It was still very expensive to record back then, and now I am very excited about all the recording tools musicians and songwriters have at their disposal. Specifically, Logic Pro X and Waves plug-ins make it possible to make a great record without all the studio hoopla. [As for XEB], I’m not sure if Arion and I will record together again, but I am certainly working with these new tools now and am very excited about the sounds and songs I am currently producing.

Third Eye Blind – which now consists of original members Stephan Jenkins (lead vocals, guitar) and Brad Hargreaves (drums, backing vocals), as well as Kryz Reid (guitar, backing vocals), Alex Kopp (keyboards), and Alex LeCavalier (bass), are currently on a U.S. tour. Jenkins stated on Twitter in 2012 that the band’s upcoming fifth album – due next year – will be their final album, implying that the band will then focus on releasing occasional digital singles.

There’s a fine line between camp and class, between low-brow and high-brow. Have you ever been that person who’s constantly defending a movie or TV show or album that everybody else seems to despise? With “Back Off, Jerk,” Hidden Track writers tell the rest of the universe to wake up and stop hatin’.

This week, Stephen Mills defends the 2001 action-adventure comedy The Mexican, starring Brad Pitt and Julia Roberts.

In March of 2001, I was a closeted gay boy finishing up my senior year of high school in my hometown of Richmond, Indiana. College and the possibility of a new life were so close, yet so far away. To pass the time, I spent much of my high school days in the movie theater with my best friend. We’d go see movie after movie after movie (good or bad), and we’d then discuss them over dinner at a chain restaurant or in the basement of my parents’ house (Clearly, we were very popular). We were actually complete opposites. He was straight. I was closeted. He loved sports. I loved writing poems. He was conservative. I was liberal. But somehow we bonded over pop culture and our shared ability to defend our opinions — no matter how different they might have been.

We normally took turns picking the movie, so I know it was my choice to go see The Mexican, starring Brad Pitt and Julia Roberts, that March. Looking back, it’s clear that Pitt’s good looks had a lot to do with my selection, even though I was two years away from admitting my sexuality. Regardless, I fell for the movie that most critics and audiences did not.

The Mexican hit theaters on March 2, 2001, which was just weeks before Julia Roberts would take home her Oscar for Erin Brockovich. For starring two of Hollywood’s biggest and most respected actors, the movie was not well received. On Rotten Tomatoes, the movie has a 56% rating with critics and only a 44% rating with audiences, and on IMDB, it has managed a score of only 6 out of 10. These are not the strongest numbers for Pitt or Roberts (both have only had a few career missteps).

The Mexican didn’t deliver the movie everyone was expecting or wanting, which is partly what makes it stand out to me. I’m a sucker for the unexpected. Roberts and Pitt could have had their pick of scripts, but something made them go for this one. In fact, the entire cast is an impressive list of accomplished actors, including the late James Gandolfini, J. K. Simmons, and Gene Hackman. On paper, this sounds like a sure fire hit, so what went wrong?

The movie is a crime-adventure comedy, and it’s actually original. It bucks expectations in almost every way possible, which might be the cause of its lack of success. The filmmakers don’t appear to have been interested in spoon-feeding a cheesy romantic comedy starring Pitt and Roberts (though that would probably have been more successful). To the surprise of many, Roberts and Pitt only spend about 30 of the 123-minute film on screen together. Not a typical Hollywood move.

The Mexican tells the story of Jerry (Pitt), who, through a minor car accident, sends a mob guy (Hackman) to jail (He has a body in his trunk). Due to this, Jerry is forced into a criminal ring, where he must work off the jail term of the man he accidentally sent to prison. This all happens before the movie begins. We pickup with Jerry being sent on his final job, which is to retrieve a cursed pistol called “The Mexican” from Mexico. His girlfriend, Samantha or Sam (Roberts), is less than thrilled that Jerry’s “jobs” keep interfering with their lives. This last job is interfering with their plan to move to Las Vegas. Jerry’s argument is that he’ll be killed if he doesn’t do it.

In their first scene together, Roberts screams from a balcony while hurling clothes and shoes at Pitt on the street below. Roberts and Pitt both deliver in this scene that is full of contemporary relationship psycho-babble (They go to a “group”). Before calling for a “time out,” Roberts yells down: “All right. Jerry, I want you to acknowledge that my needs mean nothing to you and you’re a selfish prick and a liar.” By the end of the scene, she breaks up with him, and they both go their separates ways for the majority of the movie.

As things continue, it’s apparent that Jerry is not a great criminal, and Pitt plays this part to perfection. For being so damn pretty, Pitt has proven himself to be a damn good actor. In The Mexican, he plays the boyish, funny, and sometimes not-so-bright Jerry with great ease. He’s a believable “stupid American,” which is evident in a humorous scene at the car rental place where Jerry wants a more “authentic” car to drive than the brand new Chrysler he is offered and where we learn he doesn’t know Spanish.

In Mexico, it becomes clear that more than one person is after this pistol and that Jerry’s final job isn’t going to be an easy one (wouldn’t be much of a movie, if it was). The pistol changes hands many times, and as it does the history and story behind the pistol alters. Each person he comes in contact with has a different version of the story. In part, the movie plays with the idea of truth and legend. The story and the characters aren’t always what they first seem to be.

The other half of the movie follows Roberts’ Sam as she gets pulled back into Jerry’s criminal world. On her way to Las Vegas in her bright green Volkswagen Beetle, she is kidnapped by a gay hitman “Leroy” (Gandolfini). Word has gotten back that Jerry might be “fucking up” his last job, so the plan is whoever controls the girl controls Jerry. Of course, the hitman doesn’t know that Sam and Jerry broke up.

Sam is anything but a damsel in distress, and her anger at Jerry only adds fuel to the situation (and comedy). Roberts delivers even the clichéd lines with enough gusto to keep your attention. Her character is a humorous commentary on our culture’s view on relationships and self-help tactics. Before getting kidnapped, Sam is sitting in a food court in the mall, reading and highlighting a book titled Men Who Can’t Love while Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots Are Made For Walkin’” plays on the speaker.

Playing against our expectations, Sam and “Leroy” bond and spend much of the movie discussing relationships and when “enough is enough.” But this is not done in a stereotypical straight girl/gay guy way. In fact, the movie very carefully avoids most gay stereotypes that have become so commonplace in Hollywood. Gandolfini’s “Leroy” feels like a real character and is not there only to drive the plot of the straight characters. He even has his own romantic moment with a hitchhiking postal worker midway through the movie (Of course, that doesn’t end so well).

The comedy in the film is spliced with actual violence and not simply “the good guys win and the bad guys die.” There are some surprises, including the revelation that “Leroy” isn’t who we think he is, or at the end when Sam is the one holding the gun and she actually chooses to shoot it instead of the letting the “bad guy” go or letting one of the men handle the situation.

In the end, it seems people’s reactions to this movie were due to their expectations. This is not a standard Julia Roberts movie or even a standard Brad Pitt movie (To his credit, he’s often made interesting and unexpected film choices). That’s not to say the film is perfect — it could be tighter in places and probably a bit shorter. But its overall originality still holds up 12 years later. It’s a fun movie that just might deserve a second shot (pun intended).

Next April, Yes will embark on the second edition of their floating prog-rock festival, Cruise to the Edge. And they’re bringing along a highly impressive line-up of like-minded acts (including icons like Steve Hackett and Tony Levin). With this Spotlight series, we’ll explore some of the more obscure bands on the cruise, hopefully opening your eyes to some awesome talent below marquee level.

For this installment, Ryan is spotlighting Strawbs, one of the unsung-hero bands of progressive rock.

I first discovered Strawbs in the same way I’ve discovered various other slightly-forgotten-but-not-too-obscure rock bands throughout the years: by flipping through the overstuffed dollar bin at one of my local record stores (or the dusty, dingy attic of an antique mall). A few years ago, while filtering through stacks of withering Herb Alpert LPs (It’s a law, I’ve realized, that every record store or antique mall must have 15 Alpert LPs in stock), I stumbled upon Strawbs’ 1975 LP, Ghosts. I was drawn in by its mysterious cover (a Victorian-esque, black-and-white photo of a well-dressed woman and child) and its simple yet enigmatic title. And I wanted to learn more.

Ghosts is an all-around stellar LP, built on the melodramatic yelp of frontman Dave Cousins and the symphonic folk interplay of the band behind him (on this record: guitarist-vocalist Dave Lambert, bassist Chas Cronk, keyboardist John Hawken, and drummer Rod Coombes). It’s an excellent starting point into the band’s sprawling catalogue, which — absorbed chronologically — evolves from more pastoral folk settings (like 1970′s Dragonfly) to art-rock romanticism (their 1973 masterpiece, Bursting at the Seams) to tastefully epic prog-rock (1974′s Hero and Heroine).

Through endless line-up shifts (including on-again-off-again guitarist Tony Hooper and a brief stint from keyboardist Rick Wakeman) and artistic flops (like 1976′s Deep Cuts), Cousins has remained the band’s chief songwriter and creative force. Though, like most prog-related bands, their most celebrated (and essential) work is concentrated in the 1970s, Strawbs have managed to keep touring and making music decades later: Their most recent LP, Dancing to the Devil’s Beat, came out in 2009.

At this point in my record-collecting experience, I’m working may way through the more obscure corners of the band’s discography (Still never seen a copy of 1977′s Burning For You). But even though I’m not a full-fledged expert, I want to pass along my appreciation and help newcomers ease into the world of Strawbs. Below, get a taste of the band’s eclecticism with this small primer from their golden age.

It’s been nearly two decades since The Kinks broke up, but former frontman Ray Davies is toying with the idea of a reunion.

In a recent interview with ABC News Radio, the rock icon teased the possibility of hooking back up with his old bandmates (including brother Dave). Though the Davies brothers haven’t exactly been on the best terms throughout the years, time seems to have healed some wounds.

“I was walking down the street the other day and I thought to myself, ‘You know, I could write Dave a great song,’” Davies says. But he also makes it clear that a reunion would only make creative sense if the band were to write new material — instead of simply touring as a throwback act.

“My answer is ‘no’ if we’re just going to go out and play the oldies, ‘maybe’ if we can make good new music as well,” he says. “I must write something new, something fresh, because … as long as I’m alive, I’m living in the present world and I want to be inspired by it and resonate the world I live in.”

One catalyst for such a reunion could be Davies’ upcoming studio album, inspired by his memoir Americana: The Kinks, the Riff, the Road: The Story. Davies says he’s “going to start recording” lyrics included throughout the book “as a sort of soundtrack,” and he hopes Ray Davies might be involved in some fashion.

“I like writing for his voice and I like writing for his guitar sound,” Ray pointed out. “So, even if I just do the soundtrack to Americana, there are some tracks I’d love Dave play on. So we’ll start from there and see how it works.”

SPOILERS AHEAD (or, um be-head?), so duck and cover, Sleepy Hollow fans!

Season One, Episode Eight: “Necromancer”

Written by: Mark Goffman & Phillip Iscove; Directed by: Paul Edwards

With the Headless Horseman captured, what next? Of course, they intend to torture him for information. This week, we get even more forward momentum as we learn more of Crane and the Horseman’s backstory. Sleep Hollow seems to have taken a page from Scandal and is just firing on all oscillators.

Quick Breakdown

Abbie, Crane, and Irving stare at the captive Horseman through their protective Plexiglas. To get farther with him, they’ll need to talk to him; and since he has no head, they’ll need Brooks, who they know can communicate with the dead. While Abbie and Crane hunt him down, she tells Irving she wants Jenny to know what’s up since she’s out of the mental institution now.

In the tunnels, Abbie and Crane track down Brooks’ hidey-hole. Whilst snooping, Crane discovers some Egyptian writing, realizing that Brooks is a necromancer — one appointed to speak for the dead. Brooks shows up, and Abbie enlists him to help them. He wants to but also warns them Moloch has his soul, and thus he must answer to him first and foremost. He all but tells her that he will betray them, but Crane really wants to chat with Death so he can get some answers.

Irving talks with Jenny, filling her in on what her sister is up to. Jenny, obviously, wants to see the Horseman. Some random officer busts in to tell Irving about a theft at Adams Iniquities. Jenny weasels her way into this investigation since she used to work there (presumably while hunting down artifacts for Corbin). Nothing seems to have been stolen, but Jenny opens the secret door in the wall and finds an injured Adams a missing Druid spell-caster called a Thracian Phiale.

While questioning Death, he throws a necklace at Crane to unsettle him. The necklace belonged to Katrina, he tells Abbie, as they confer. The necklace was given to her by her betrothed, a guy named Abraham who just so happened to be Crane’s BFF. Katrina loves the necklace but knows that Crane picked it out. She is going to dump Abraham so she can be with the man she loves, Crane. In the present, Crane wants more answers about how the Horseman snagged the necklace.

Knowing they have the Phiale, Jenny tells Irving that they’ll probably head to the power plant to knock out those pesky UV lights that are weakening the Horseman’s powers. They get there in time to capture all the Hessians lurking at the site. But Jenny deducts from their empty duffel bags that whatever they brought there was already planted. Sure enough, the power grid explodes.

The UV lights go out as the Horseman accuses Crane of murdering his best friend. With Crane fired up, Abbie pulls him back to their side room to calm him. He tells her what really happened with Abraham. They were delivering an important document with Abraham sulking about Katrina spurning him. Crane confesses that Katrina loves him. They duel. While sword fighting, an enemy soldier shoots down Abraham. Crane runs off with the document, watching Abraham die at the hands of the Hessians. He feels guilty about what happened, but Abbie tells him it wasn’t his fault.

Irving and Jenny arrive, updating them on the situation. With two hours before the power returns, they need to stop whatever Hessians remain from removing the hex around the room with that Thracian Phiale. They search the tunnels for intruders, but, lo and behold, the Phiale is imbedded in Brooks’ side. He pulls it out and summons some of Moloch’s minions to attack the others in the tunnels. He can’t say he didn’t warn them he would betray them.

Crane is too consumed with ire to search the tunnels and instead confronts Death. He breaks from his elaborate chains and challenges Crane to a duel. His mission in the Revolution was to kill Crane, and that remains his goal. While dueling, Crane realizes he fights just like Abraham. Turns out, he is Abraham. After getting shot by the Hessians, he sold his soul to Moloch to seek revenge on Crane and Katrina, wanting her soul.

With the Horseman’s identity revealed, Brooks takes this opportunity to summon Moloch’s minions and take them all away after first admonishing Death that he’s not allowed to kill Crane. Well, we didn’t really think the Horseman would remain chained up forever, did we? A defeated Crane and Abbie end the episode with a little chitchat recap. They realize that the Horseman’s weakness is his desire for Katrina’s soul. “Now more than ever, we need Katrina,” Crane says dramatically.

Rating

A+

More Crane backstory! More Katrina backstory! Also, the promise of more Katrina in the future. Finally, we can get to the witch of the matter. This season is moving along so quickly, already dumping the monster of the week structure to implement this serialized storytelling. Most series like this wait a season or two, but Fox and the writers seems confident in Sleepy Hollow’s sudden popularity and are running with it. I don’t have any real complaints about this episode, except why did it have to end?

Now for some random thoughts and my favorite moments of the night…

Wardrobe update: Crane is still wearing his uniform, but this week he didn’t really have time to change into anything else.

“A dead guy, a mental patient, and a time traveler from the Revolution.” – Irving. “That’s our team.” – Abbie.

Abbie teaches Crane to fist bump — naturally he finds it inane.

The 14-minute opening act was even longer than The Good Wife’s (a series notorious for long opening acts), but you could hardly tell since it was so jam-packed with action.

Jenny proved herself pretty helpful this week; I definitely want her on the team going forward. I also want some flashbacks to her missions with Corbin.

I’m very excited for more Katrina in the future, assuming they form her into a great character.

(SPOILERS AHEAD, so proceed with caution, you Mother lovers!)

Season Nine, Episode Ten: “Mom and Dad”

Written by: Carter Bays & Craig Thomas; Directed by: Pamela Fryman

Tonight’s episode takes a page from The Parent Trap as Barney tries to get his parents back together. Meanwhile, it seems like we may have some resolution for various plot threads — or threats — that were made earlier this season. And the writers have even included another musical number!

Quick Breakdown

Saturday 3 p.m., 27 hours before the wedding.

James’ father arrives and saves the weekend by agreeing to be the minister for the wedding. Looks like that plot twist wrapped itself up with a pretty little bow on it. Seeing James’ dad makes Barney wistful for his own father. Oh, look, there he is! Jerry (John Lithgow) is checking in with his wife — he even bumps into Loretta for the first time in decades. Robin is excited to see them fight, but they greet each other civilly and move on.  Barney thinks they’re in love.

Beforehand, Barney had entrusted a signed photo of Wayne Gretsky to Best Man Ted to keep before he could give it to Robin as a wedding present (apparently waiting until halfway through the weekend to hide it from Robin). Ted leaves it on his desk while taking a shower, and when he comes out, his calligraphy ink is spilled all over the photo. He goes to Lily and tells her that Detective Mosby is on the case. Only three other people overheard Barney giving him the photo, and one of them is Billy Zabka, who had previously challenged him for the Best Man position. Ted starts there.

On the road, Daphne has joined Marshall in singing “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles).” Their bond is briefly lived before she turns on Marshall. He tries to understand why she’s suddenly so angry, assuming he did something wrong (like leaving the oranges on the roof or calling the police to give her a speeding ticket). But she’s only mad because she told her daughter she would be late to her speech, and her daughter told her not to bother showing up.

Barney, being Barney, devises an elaborate rekindling moment for Jerry and Loretta in the elevator (with Jerry’s wife disposed of via Ranjeet driving her away in his limo). They yell at Barney that they’ll never get back together. James saves them, but only because he has his own scheme to get Loretta with his father instead. The two face off and — wait for it — sing!

In the song, Barney imagines life at home with his mother and father reunited. James interrupts, imagining his own mom and dad together again. The two soon devolve into a childish fight until Robin breaks it up. Barney and James agree to give up on their Parent Trap scheming and go to toast some McKenna outside. But when they arrive outdoors, they see Loretta making out with James’ father. Barney drops the replacement bottle in the same fashion as Ted earlier this season.

After some mildly intelligent detective work (Ted’s no Sherlock) and some wild interrogations, Ted realizes that it had to be Zabka who sabotaged the photo. It was Zabka-tage! Lily, who had been using ink remover to uncover the photo, realizes the same thing when she sees it is a Zabka headshot. She tackles Zabka as he walks down the hall (making that Lily’s second tackle of the weekend, Future Ted is quick to remind us).

Ted asks why Zabka would do such a dastardly thing. He tells his sob story about how everyone boos him because he was the villain. And, finally, Barney asks him to be Best Man (albeit briefly and half-heartedly), and he finally feels like someone cares about him. Ted feels bad for him, of course, and lies to Barney, saying he spilled ink over the photo and that it was Zabka who hunted down a replacement. Barney mocks Ted and moves on.

Marshall feels bad for Daphne and rushes to get them to her daughter’s speech. They arrive just in time for her to stand on stage and see her mother in the audience. Both are heartened by this moment, but Marshall has to get back on the road — he has a wedding to get to.

Rating

B-

The writers continue to prove that they have a plan for the season, incorporating jokes from earlier episodes. I gotta say, this long wedding weekend gimmick isn’t as annoying as I thought it would be. This’ll be a great season to marathon later. Unfortunately, tonight’s episode crammed too much into each story to let any funny gags or jokes fully resonate. But now we have some resolution for those various plot developments, even though they came about abruptly.

Now for some random thoughts and my favorite moments of the night…

“Detective Mosby’s the worst.” – Lily when Ted announces that he is investigating the ink spill. She reminds him of his failure to find an answer to the Pineapple Incident

“You can’t even detect sarcasm!” – Lily continuing to dress down Ted

The musical number was a great addition and a perfect Sweeps Month stunt

The recurring gag with Ranjeet holding Jerry’s wife hostage in the limo was pretty amusing

“I’m going to kill my — wait for it — self.” –Jerry’s wife’s “suicide note” (obviously written by Barney)

In the tag ending (a recurring phenomena this season), Jerry finds his wife in Ranjeet’s limo, jumping on the windshield, causing his wife to scream.

OK, professional illusionist David Blaine. You’re the coolest fucking person alive. WE GET IT.

Last night, the stoic genius aired a new 90-minute TV special on ABC called “Real or Magic,” and it featured Blaine getting back to his performance art-magic roots. Instead of, say, freezing himself in a massive block of ice or (in a stunt nobody was excited by) fasting for 44 days, he did exactly what he does best: scaring the Bejeezus (and Be-Yeezus) out of strangers and celebrities with his jaw-dropping sleight-of-hand (and stab-of-hand).

Though it’s still incredibly fun to watch Blaine freak out regular people, it’s a geekier thrill to watch him punk A-listers. And Blaine pretty much tackled ‘em all: leaving Kanye West speechless (That’s officially possible), disturbing film genius Woody Allen (who made Blaine a malted), and turning Breaking Bad co-star Aaron Paul into a drooling psychopath (I was waiting patiently for a “Yo, that’s crazy, BITCH!”).

Most of the highlights are packaged in the clip below, during Blaine’s soon-to-be-meme-worthy Ice Pick Stunt — in which he stabs said object through his bare hand without causing any blood loss.

Aaron Paul’s delighted-yet-horrified scream (which starts at 1:58) is like a shot of endorphins straight through your earholes and into your bloodstream. I’ve never been happier in my entire life. I would buy an album of that scream. I love Aaron Paul so much right now, I’m considering sitting through Need for Speed.

Some other notable reaction quotes:

“Oh, GOD NO! Ohhhh…Goooooodddd…woooowww!” — Aaron Paul

“Hehehehe.” — Kanye

“Noooooo way!!!!! Ohhhh youuuu! Ohhh Goooodddd!” — Aaron Paul

“That is THROUGH YOUR HAND!” — Aaron Paul; “But there’s no blood!” — Blaine; “But WHY?” — Aaron Paul

“Well, I’ve lost my erection entirely!” — Woody Harrelson

“No blood — nothing. Like I promised” — Blaine, sounding a little bit like a serial killer

David Gilmour has only released three solo albums in his lifetime, so a new LP is more than welcome — especially if it features collaborations with legends like Graham Nash and David Crosby.

Nash broke the news in a recent interview with the vintage.tv program Needle Time, stating that he and his former CSNY bandmate are contributing their iconic voices to the former Pink Floyd guitarist’s new LP. (Hat tip to ABC News.)

“What the hell would it cost you to have David Crosby and Graham Nash getting on a bloody train to Brighton to sing with you?” Nash asked with a laugh. “We’re musicians. We love good songs. We’ll sing them until we are dead.”

Nash and Crosby have actually worked with Gilmour previously: In 2006, the duo contributed harmonies to “On an Island,” the gorgeous title-track from Gilmour’s most recent album, and they even appeared as guests on the subsequent tour. Back in 2011, Nash co-wrote a song for electronic duo The Orb’s LP, Metallic Spheres, which also included Gilmour’s writing, vocals, and signature guitar.

Having Nash and Crosby on-board only makes me more excited for Gilmour’s new album. Who else should he recruit for the project?

It’s been this way for a minute: Jimmy Fallon’s Late Night is officially the go-to source for good music on television. (Sorry, VH1.)

Last night, Australian dance-pop outfit Cut Copy crashed the hippest stage in late night, playing their dizzying new single, “We Are Explorers.”

“I wanna dream of the new age / If the planets align,” sings frontman Dan Whitford, his plainspoken croon engulfed by comically ’80s-styled synth washes and propulsive percussion. Cut Copy are generally awesome (They just released a great new album, Free Your Mind, on November 5th), and I especially appreciate their awkward dance moves, including the excellent “raise yo’ hands in the air” move that happens around the 2:58 mark. (Side note: HUGE props to the ginger dude mugging for the camera around 2:15 — Cut Copy, I think you’ve found your new back-up dancer.)

In other Fallon-related news, comedy legend Bill Cosby dropped by the show on Monday night to promote his upcoming comedy special, Far from Finished. In one of the most nonsensical and strangely riveting interviews I’ve ever witnessed, Cosby reenacted his own burial, yelled at ?uestlove for his ill-timed drum rolls, and made Fallon giggle like a school girl (a pretty common Fallon move, admittedly) with his bizarre non-sequiturs.

Check out the Cut Copy performance and Cosby…thing below:

For the past 15 years or so, we’ve known Sufjan Stevens as the guy who makes heartbreakingly beautiful folk, progressive chamber-pop, and…whatever the hell The Age of Adz was. But in 2013, Suf-dawg has taken up a new hobby: making hilarious, slightly absurd statements about mainstream pop culture on his Tumblr. Last month, he penned a grammar-centric open-letter to Miley Cyrus (Then again, who didn’t?). Now he has a new target: THE BIEBS.

In a new post, Stevens rants about Justin Bieber’s new collaboration with R. Kelly, a sexually charged ballad titled “PYD.” Within the track, Biebs glides into a silky falsetto, fantasizing about various sexual positions (“To the stove to the counter-top — girl, get ready: I’m go’n’ put you down”) over a sprawl of lush synthesizers.

Take it away, Sufjan:

“Shout out to over-sexed teenagers,” he writes. “Shout out to sex abbreviations that sound like the word ‘puberty.’ Shout out to animal euthanasia as sexual innuendo. Shout out to the new genre: nymphomaniac pop. Shout out to my Biebs. Go get some, bro. I’ll be reading the psalms, eating Scotch oatmeal cookies, etc. The world is abundant.”

I agree…I think.

Also, I kinda hate to admit it, but this Bieber track (despite its obvious awkwardness) is pretty damn trippy. A guilty pleasure that I feel no guilt over.

…DON’T JUDGE ME.

Mastodon, the kings of modern prog-metal, are preparing to hit the studio and record their sixth (and still-untitled) studio album.

In a new interview with Rolling Stone, drummer Brann Dailor gave some long-awaited details about the project, including its producer (Deftones/Rush veteran Nick Raskulinecz) and its overall style.

“It’s gonna be massive and insane, lots of epic greatness,”he says. “There will be lots of huge riffs and new directions. It’s real weird, real math-y, real straightforward. It’s up, down and all around (…) It’s a culmination of everything for the band. The snowball keeps rolling and collecting snow.”

The Georgia-based quartet originally started writing the LP during a tour gap back in November of 2012, and they reconvened for further work in May of this year. Dailor says working with Raskulinecz is a logical fit, noting, “He’s a rock guy. He’s a rocker. He likes to rock.”

Further still, “He’s done a bunch of our friends’ records that sound great. I’m a fan of all the Deftones records he’s done, all the Alice in Chains stuff, and he worked with Queens of the Stone Age on Songs for the Deaf.”

Though Dailor didn’t divulge too much info about the album, he notes that the band are whittling down a batch or “18 or 19″ songs. The drummer, a longtime Stevie Wonder fan, also mentions that the LP will channel the soul/funk icon — at least in spirit.

“He’s just in the moment and he loves it so much,” he says. “It’s like, oh, man, I want that. The four of us try to go all the way there. Since we are the only ones that we can please genuinely, that’s what we try to do.”

Meanwhile, the band will release a new live set, the double-LP Live at Brixton, on December 10th.

(SPOILERS AHEAD, so witch your step, Coven fans!)

Season Three, Episode Seven: “The Dead”

Written by: Brad Falchuk; Directed by: Bradley Buecker

With an episode titled “The Dead,” you can expect a lot of the undead to be featured. And they certainly deliver on that. There is also a surprise murder and an even more surprising threesome. But more important, this episode sets up some future threats to the characters when AHS comes back from Thanksgiving break.

Quick Breakdown

This episode opens with Kyle and his frat buddies getting tattoos. He wants to be a respectable engineer when he grows up, so he’s refraining from tainting his body — but his buddies get some clichéd tats. In the present, Franken-Kyle is mourning his brothers as he sees that his appendages are actually theirs (tattoos and all). Zoe approaches, hiding a pistol behind her back.

Madison is in mourning as well. While she had been so unfeeling when alive, she finds that she’s terminally unfeeling as an undead. No matter how much she eats, burns herself, or consumes magic potion ingredients, Madison just feels empty. (At least she still has her sass.) Cordelia hears some noise outside her room and starts wandering around, calling out. She touches Madison and gets a flash of how she died at Fiona’s hands. Cordelia is invigorated by this discovery.

Zoe doesn’t shoot Kyle, but he does attempt to blow his brains out when he gets hold of the gun. She stops him, realizing she doesn’t want to get rid of him. Instead, she tries to retrain him in the art of being human, which just makes him feel stupid. Cordelia summons Zoe, and cold, unfeeling Madison tries one more thing to fill her void.

Cordelia tells Zoe that she’s shown promise as a powerful witch, and, as such, has put a target on her back. She tells Zoe that Fiona will do anything to kill her. Zoe is surprised, but not that surprised. She’s actually more surprised by the vehemence Cordelia shows as she intones, “We’re going to kill my mother.” As if that wasn’t enough of a bombshell, Zoe then walks in on Kyle humping Madison.

As smooth jazz plays, the Axeman seduces Fiona back at his place (which he acquired after murdering the current tenant). Just as Fiona is feeling sexy, her hair starts falling out. She tries to skip out, but the Axeman stops her, sexing her up with his sax fingers instead. In the morning, when she tries to leave, he confesses his deep love for her. Apparently, he’s been watching her intently while being trapped in the school. He even helped her battle bullies when she was little. Fiona is officially creeped out and leaves.

Disjointed from everyone else, Queenie and LaLaurie are turning into Laverne & Shirley. They grab burgers and shakes together and bond. But something doesn’t quite sit well with Queenie, and she visits Laveau. The voodoo queen tells Queenie off, but she confesses her dissatisfaction with the white girl coven. Maybe Queenie should just befriend someone her own age? Or at least born in the last sixty years?

Zoe’s not quite content with Cordelia’s revelations and does a little witchy experiment. When she discovered the Ouija board last week, she also found some other trinkets including Spalding’s tongue. Because Myrtle enchanted it (and saved it), it has retained its optimum moisture; and Zoe returns the tongue magically to Spalding’s mouth. She then ties up and extracts a confession from him. He tries desperately not to, but he does name Fiona as the murderer of Madison. Content with his answer, Zoe stabs him to death. (I must confess, I did not see that coming. Zoe is going very dark.)

Needing to feel refreshed after the murder, Zoe takes a shower. When she comes out, Madison has joined her in the bathroom. They have some girly innuendos about what Madison did with Kyle. Zoe remains calm, pretending she doesn’t care; but Madison knows better. She says that since Kyle is already dead, Zoe’s bewitched vagina won’t give him an aneurysm. She also confesses that sleeping with Kyle was the only time she has felt something since being resurrected. She then suggests they all sleep together, dragging towel-clad Zoe into the bedroom where Kyle waits patiently. The towel drops.

Fiona’s feelings are all over the place, and she almost acts rashly and buzzes her hair off. Almost. She then decides that the weird undead guy who has been stalking her is oddly romantic. She goes to him.

Continuing her buddy bond with LaLaurie, Queenie asks her to confess her darkest secret. LaLaurie does happen to have one awful thing that she regrets. Her slave girl had a baby with LaLaurie’s husband, so she murdered the child and used its blood for her youthful face mask. She dramatically reveals this to the slave girl who subsequently jumps off the balcony. This confession is just enough to tip Queenie’s opinion of LaLaurie, and she tricks the vile slave torturer into visiting Laveau’s salon. Laveau welcomes her nemesis back, and cages her up. Queenie uses a knife to draw blood, and Laveau uses the blood for her own facemask.

Rating

A-

The young witches are growing up, and they seem to be throwing whatever morals they have to the wind. It’s not that LaLaurie doesn’t deserve such a fitting punishment, but Queenie is betraying her coven for the evil voodoo coven. How long till she regrets that? And Zoe killing off Spalding was pretty heartless, but was she just eliminating him because of his loyalties to Fiona? She seems to know what she’s doing — except, perhaps, in the bed department. I loved seeing these girls make such drastic choices, and I can’t wait to see where the second half of this wild season goes.

Now for some random thoughts and my favorite moments of the night…

Hank makes a call to Cordelia, saying he’ll be visiting soon. We then see him on the floor of his apartment surrounded by guns of all shapes and sizes.

“Cordelia wants to see you. Well, that would be impossible. But she does want to talk.” – Madison, sass in tact.

While I’m happy Fiona didn’t buzz her head off, the inevitable donning of wigs that would follow would’ve been highly entertaining.

How annoyed are you that Thanksgiving is interrupting the season?

(SPOILERS AHEAD, so proceed with caution, South Park fans!)

Season 17, Episode Eight: “Black Friday”

Written and Directed by: Trey Parker

First off, sorry for the delay! (Side note: If you’re ever at a sports bar and the waitress refuses to bring you your check, don’t sit and wait for it out of politeness — you might end up missing the new South Park episode.)

Anyway, back to your regularly scheduled programming.

After last week’s dramatic cliffhanger in “Black Friday,” we pick right back up with the Console Wars craziness: As the holiday savings apocalypse looms, Cartman and Kyle (the X-Box clan) are still preparing for battle against Stan (the PS4 clan), with both camps using increasingly deceptive and extravagant methods to claim their coveted gaming system. Meanwhile, after the death of grizzled security guard Miles “Happy” Davis (So that’s his name! Also…what?), Randy has taken over the title of crazed survivalist mall cop weirdo, preparing his team for the coming zombie-shopper catastrophe.

It’s a much funnier and more focused episode than its predecessor. It also takes wiener jokes to a transcendent new territory.

Quick Breakdown

We’re ushered back into the Black Friday mindset with a dramatic “Previously on South Park” intro, filled with epic Game of Thrones-styled intro credits. An ominous black crow calls out its sickening song, and we’re reminded again that “winter is coming.”

After some throwaway stuff with Princess Kenny (who has officially chosen her side with Stan’s team), we cut to Cartman’s crew in training, with Butters grunting quite awkwardly while brandishing a fake sword. Cartman is disgruntled about the betrayal of that “traitor whore Kenny,” and Kyle is equally pissed, resigning to a possibly gruesome outcome.

Knowing that the president of Sony is offering (all together now!) a Brack Friday Bunduru as a promotional gimmick, Cartman aims to settle the score. He calls up the CEO of Microsoft, Steve Ballmer, who isn’t fazed by the threats of the coming Console Wars and insists they remain neutral. But neutrality doesn’t appeal to Bill Gates, who shows up with an assassin to wipe Ballmer off the map and claim the throne for himself.

Meanwhile, the mall is now offering another 10% off Black Friday deals in order on the mall cop’s tragic death. Randy, now donning his hero’s beloved eye scar, surveys the growing zombie crowd outside. The end appears to be nigh. (Stretching this episode out to a trilogy really hurt the first episode’s pacing — this one flows a lot better, mostly because they avoid stuff at the mall.)

Back at his headquarters, Cartman wants to follow the Game of Thrones model of strategy, though Butters is still only concerned about the show’s disturbing amount of wiener screen-time. After some convincing, Butters and Scott journey to see the one person who knows the truth: Thrones writer George R. R. Martin. Of course, Martin (to Butters’ disgust) is totally preoccupied with wieners to even talk about the show’s plot. (“Soft and flaccid, his wiener glistens in the golden sunlight!” literally made me cackle. Martin even leads an all-male choir in an outright spit-take-hilarious Wiener chant.)

Cartman turns out to be the true traitor: Throughout the episode, he promises an alliance with basically every member of his team — but he meets his match with Bill Gates, who shows up to give Cartman a taste of his own medicine, taking over the Microsoft operation, even down to the Console Wars themselves.

The executives are now fully engaged in their own Console War. While Gates is manipulating the South Park mall shoppers with his own special Black Friday goodies, the Japanese Sony exec shows up to bestow a shining medallion to Princess Kenny (Cut to “Princess Kenny” anime bit). And back at the mall, Randy continues to prep his crew for the coming Black Friday riots — but it’s gonna be another episode until we’re there. Of course, the mall has decided to postpone Black Friday one week to help shoppers prepare for the insane savings (“96% off for the first 100 people inside the wall”)

As the news station’s field reporter says, “No doubt a lot of people you love are going to die.”

We’ll see next week, I guess.

Rating

A-

Overall, a much smoother, more satisfying episode. And again, I’ve never laughed harder at a wiener joke — the Martin penis choir bit might be the funniest bit of the season so far. Did this plot (especially in a 10-episode season) really need to be a trilogy? Not at all. But let’s hope Parker really brings his A-game for the final installment.

Now for some random thoughts and my favorite moments of the night…

“One wiener next to another, two wieners alongside another” — lyrics I caught during the choral wiener segment

Sony exec’s ejaculation noise is terrifying and hilarious.

“Tom, I’m standing in your doorway because we have a hot new story to report” — field reporter crashes the bedroom of news reporters Tom and Tammy Thompson, the love-making brother and sister duo.

“Stan is still the nuts and balls of the operation.” — Cartman

Thousands and thousands of films are made every year. And while some of them are destined for Oscar glory and widespread Metacritic acclaim, others wind up scraping the barrel on the IMDB Bottom 100. What makes these films so universally despised? Are they all really that bad? And, seriously, what’s the deal with From Justin to Kelly? We’ll answer all these questions (and hopefully more) with “Scraping the Barrel,” in which we review the ENTIRETY of the bottom 100, in order.

In today’s installment, Jeremiah Massengale takes a closer look (when he’s able to uncover his eyes) at #95, 1998′s 3 Ninjas: High Noon at Mega Mountain.

(Editor Note: We realize the Bottom 100 has changed slightly since we began this series. Our master list was frozen on July 17th.)

The Gist: When a group of mercenaries take over a theme park, it’s up to three prepubescent ninja brothers, their geeky tween neighbor, and a retiring TV star to save the day.

Those Who Shall Be Held Responsible: Written by Sean McNamara and Jeff Phillips, Directed by Sean McNamara.

IMDB Stats: #94, 2.5 rating

The Straight Dirt:

Terrorists take over a theme park and rounds of ammunition are fired at innocent people. The police are unable to protect the precious children trapped inside the park. This sounds like a plot that’s perfect for a children’s movie, right? Come on; of course not. But that’s the set up for 3 Ninjas: High Noon at Mega Mountain. Sure, 1998 was, arguably, a simpler time in America, but no one in their right mind would green-light such a movie today. (If only no one had decided to green-light it then.)

Premise aside, even if you don’t know anything about this fourth installment of the 3 Ninjas franchise, when you find out that it stars Hulk Hogan, Loni Anderson, and Jim Varney (who starred in every Ernest movie), you know that it’s not going to be a groundbreaking cinematic experience. Yet, somehow, however bad you think it might be…it’s worse.

Hulk Hogan gives a movie its most touching, meaningful performance. Doesn’t that say it all?

For a generation raised on Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, the original 1992 3 Ninjas film was a dream come true. The Jon Turteltaub movie was the picture-perfect amalgamation of the Turtles’ sarcastic, butt-kicking action and Kevin McAllister’s brand of amusing, quasi-violent mayhem that we loved in Home Alone. I can’t think of a VHS tape I watched more at age nine than the original motion picture that introduced us to Rocky, Colt, and Tum Tum. Even the 1994 sequel was surprisingly watchable. But, by the time Mega Mountain rolled around, the biggest fans of the original, like me, had outgrown the series. Maybe longtime Hogan fans were supposed to watch Hulkmania run wild in this picture, since the Hulkster got top billing. Instead, Mega Mountain killed the 3 Ninjas franchise.

The film opens with the brothers Rocky, Colt, and Tum Tum returning after ninja training with their grandpa (an ancient-looking Victor Wong). Rocky and Colt are ready to abandon the ways of the ninja and put it behind them, thinking they’ll never use their martial arts skills. This makes me wonder — aren’t these the same characters in the previous three films who’ve already used their punches, kicks, and flips to take down hundreds of grown-up ninja warriors and a handful of criminal masterminds? Is this an alternate timeline? What gives?

Only young Tum Tum is still excited about “ninja stuff,” but he’s also excited about celebrating his birthday at Mega Mountain theme park.

Soon, we’re introduced to the leather-clad villainess Medusa (Anderson), her clumsy ninja army, her head henchman Lothar (Varney), and also her trustworthy hacker, who happens to be an extremely stereotypical Jamaican. They’re on a gigantic freight ship that’s headed toward Mega Mountain, which is apparently surrounded by water. After some spastically sparse shots of the bad guys riding jet skis and then scuba diving, Medusa and company enter the theme park. Their big plan? Sneak into Mega Mountain’s control center and hold the park patrons hostage in exchange for a $10 million ransom, even though they seem to have spent a heck of a lot more than that just getting to the park and taking it over.

Medusa and her gang fail to note that retiring kids TV action hero Dave Dragon (Hogan) happens to be appearing at the park, but then again, why would they? Most aging TV stars wouldn’t a be a threat to terrorists, but then again most aging TV stars aren’t played by WWE Hall of Famer Hulk Hogan. So, when Dave works with Rocky, Colt, Tum Tum, and their techie tween neighbor, Amanda, he makes life difficult for Medusa and her klutzy warriors.

As might be expected, the villain’s hare-brained scheme attracts a legion of police and FBI agents. The ninja kids’ dad, if you recall from earlier films, is an FBI agent, but the law enforcement is quickly rendered powerless.

The whole thing is absurdly contrived and audaciously illogical even for a late ‘90s live action children’s flick. Long after Medusa’s goons fire automatic weapons, we see countless guests continue to stroll leisurely about the park and line up for the rides. No one but the trio of ninja brothers seems to know that the park is in danger? No one heard the rampant gunfire or noticed that the entrance to the park was closed off by armed guards?

Yes, the bad guys seem to have worse aim than Stormtroopers, worse than Sand People, but even small children that watch the film will be sure to wonder why people are still cheerfully getting on the rides when lunatics are controlling the park.

Then, there’s a series of scenes in which the villains attempt to increase the speed of the rides to “dangerous levels.” Those mind-numbing sequences are followed by a scene where Medusa’s Rastafarian tech guy and the preteen computer genius Amanda try to out type each other for control of the speed of the park’s rides, which is about as much fun to watch as it sounds.

It feels cruel and petty to make fun of the child actors, but let’s just say this collection is less than mediocre. Yet, the abysmal script doesn’t do them any favors.

The writing’s bad, especially for the film’s young stars. Colt, for example, has one of the most awful ponytails in cinema history but manages to make fun of other characters’ hairstyles frequently, saying things like “What’s the matter? Bad hair day?” or “Get a haircut, buzz.” You wait for a rival character to come back with, “You first,” or “Have you looked in a mirror, pal?”, but it never happens.

In the storyline, the amusement-park officials are so idiotic, for instance, that when Medusa dresses as a nun to get past security, they totally believe her, even though in addition to her habit she’s wearing showgirl-thick makeup and is surrounded by half-a-dozen shady-looking dudes. Meanwhile, the highly trained SWAT team can’t manage to get past an electric fence.

And for no reason at all, midway through the film, an annoying kid who teased Colt and Tum Tum gets so scared by Medusa’s goons that he pees his pants. Plus, the brilliant director Sean McNamara (who is currently directing direct to video Baby Geniuses sequels) chooses to give the audience a close up of the kid’s wet jeans. Only there’s no Billy Madison sort of one-liner to follow the incident, just discomfort for everyone involved, onscreen and off-screen.

There are moments that could be enjoyable in Mega Mountain. After all, kids love to see other kids take down stupid adults, and there’s plenty of that to be found. There’s hand-to-hand combat atop roller coasters and amusing dart attacks near the theme park’s carnival games, but even for young viewers, it’s not cartoony enough to be hilarious or realistic enough to be exciting.

Strangely enough, none of the blame should be placed on Hogan or Varney. Yes, Hogan does his hero thing by the movie’s climax, but at one point in the film, he removes his blonde wig, reveals his very bald head, sighs deeply, and looks especially weary and vulnerable. In this fleeting moment, after he’d already talked about feeling timeworn and irrelevant, Hogan causes the film to sort of mean something, but it’s gone quicker than Dave Dragon can adjust his red stretchy pants and run off to save the day.

Varney, who was, if nothing else, over the top in his gaggle of Ernest movies, is surprisingly restrained in his dastardly role. Varney, who was a remarkably underrated talent, proves he’s marvelously adept at playing a villain. Meanwhile, Anderson, covered in tight-fitting black leather and pounds of makeup, strikes all the right poses but lacks any of the bite that a criminal needs, even a cartoony one.

All of the action is accompanied by a bouncy, high-pitched musical theme that wouldn’t be out of place in a nursery but is certainly out of place in a kid-friendly Die Hard knockoff. However, the film still manages to be painfully brash and loud. Every punch, throw or kick (and there are hundreds of them) is punctuated with the same squeaky “Aye-yah!” Every one of them.

3 Ninjas: High Noon at Mega Mountain is a special kind of awful. In retrospect, it makes 3 Ninjas and 3 Ninjas Kick Back look like The Godfather Part I and II. While it is arguably better than the series’ second sequel, 3 Ninjas Knuckle Up, due to its relative star power, no one will really get a kick out of this fourth installment. Somehow, everyone involved managed to make a very, very bland movie about kids helping Hulk Hogan defeat a group of evil ninjas at a theme park, even though that’s the stuff eight-year-olds’ dreams are made of.

Consensus: You might get a little kick out of the slapsticky Home Alone-type ninja action, but the lousy dialogue, ridiculous premise, and forgettable performances deserved to kill the franchise.

Should be IMDB Score: 3.0

Random Quotes:

“This isn’t one of grandpa’s crazy adventures. This is real life Hard Copy stuff.” – Yeah, Rocky, terrorists take over a theme park and are easily defeated by kids. This is real life, all right.

“The network decided to pull the plug on our show. According to the ratings, most kids don’t believe in heroes anymore.” — Darn you, Nielsen ratings!

“It’s no good! We need a three-prong outlet!”

Grandpa Mori says, “I think it’s time to put old grandpa on the shelf like GI Joe and Buzz Lightyear.” – I think it’s time for Grandpa Mori to take an anti-depressant.

I think Tum Tum says, “Piece of Cake. Speaking of cake, let’s eat,” more than once.

Medusa ties Dave Dragon up and tells him, “Maybe I’ll show you mercy and make you my boy toy.” – Awkward. This is a children’s movie.

Dave Matthews Band have been in a deep groove lately, releasing two of their best studio albums to date (2009′s Big Whiskey & the GrooGrux King and 2012′s Away From the World) within the past few years — on top of their typical stage domination. And Matthews is already riding that wave of creativity in the recording studio: In a new interview with Rolling Stone, the frontman says he’s working with producer Rob Cavallo and engineer Doug McKean on a new album.

“I’ve been in the studio trying to get a couple of things ready for the band to go back in, having fun,” Matthews notes, though mentioning he wants to breathe new life into the band’s sound. “I’m just trying to come up with something that doesn’t sound like the past.”

Though Matthews was vague about what shape the album will take, he did mention that some older material might be included on the upcoming LP, the band’s ninth.

“There are some songs the band has been playing for a long time,” he says. “And then whenever I start messing around in the studio, I start writing, so hopefully we can come up with something worth listening to.”

Are you guys excited about this news? DMB usually take a few years between studio albums, so it looks like Matthews is really in the zone.

With “The Chop House,” we explore classic performances from bands with — you know — “chops.” Genres like progressive rock, art-rock, jazz-fusion — they’re nearly extinct in our current music culture. These days, we live (and consume art) impatiently, favoring a quick fix over a challenge. But here at Hidden Track, we refuse to let the dazzling, confrontational spirit of these wonderful bands die.

I’m currently knee-deep in a full-on Jethro Tull obsession, so I thought this was a fitting time to share a concert from these idiosyncratic folk-prog legends.

While Tull have always been best known for their 1971 masterpiece, Aqualung, and the subsequent prog-rock parody Thick as a Brick, Ian Anderson and company continued to churn out remarkable music throughout their decades-long career. My (current) favorite Tull album is 1977′s Songs from the Wood, which blends fanciful folk tales with some of the densest, most intricately assembled prog-rock the band ever recorded. It’s an incredibly dynamic album — and an overlooked gem next to its more famous discog-mates from the early ’70s.

This featured concert (at London’s Hippodrome on October 2nd, 1977) finds the band promoting that classic LP in reliably entertaining fashion. As always, Anderson proves his status as one of the most magnetic frontmen in rock history: Between spot-on flute solos, intricate acoustic guitar figures, and lovely vocal turns, he shows off his Monty Python-esque sense of humor through subtle in-jokes and manic facial expressions. It’s literally impossible not to look at this guy. (God, I wish I’d been alive to see these guys back then.)

Throughout the hour-long set, Tull blend then-new tracks like “Velvet Green” and “Jack in the Green” with the obvious classics (a slightly slowed-down “Brick” medley, a stirring take on “Aqualung”) and a lovely “Skating Away.” My favorite moment of the entire concert is when Anderson, painfully aware that playing “the new stuff” isn’t a popular choice, responds to the lone cheering of a male audience member: “Cheers! Thank you,” he says. “Mama’s got a deep voice tonight, hasn’t she?” (Another great moment: “The album I was telling you about — the new one — we ought to take a commercial break about now, I think?”)

Check out the full concert — in all its silliness and musical splendor — below.

Full Band Line-Up: Ian Anderson (vocals, flute, acoustic guitar), Martin Barre (electric guitar), John Glascock (bass guitar), John Evan (keyboards), David Palmer (keyboards), Barriemore Barlow (drums and percussion)

Setlist

1. Intro
2. Skating Away
3. Jack In The Green
4. Thick As A Brick
5. Songs From The Wood
6. Velvet Green
7. Hunting Girl
8. Aqualung
9. Wind Up
10. Locomotive Breath
11. End

When it comes to impromptu antics, off-the-cuff stage banter, and knee-jerk reactions to a crowd during live shows, Chan Marshall (aka Cat Power) can certainly hold her own. So when Thursday’s Chicago show (the 7:00 p.m. slot, the first of two performance that night) commenced nearly 45 minutes late, things were off to an as-expected start. After an abbreviated opening set from LA-based guitarist/sonic experimentalist Nico Turner, a blonde, short-haired Cat Power finally appeared around 8:30 to an anxious, patient crowd and was greeted warmly.

But Cat Power, no stranger to playing larger venues and music festivals in recent years, seemed to be overly pensive and uncomfortable with the intimacy of the small and overly quiet venue. Gracing a stage made up of just a piano, an electric guitar, amp, and a few mics, Marshall stumbled through getting her guitar plugged in, turned on, and turned up for an extended length of time. Soon crowd members started chuckling and shushing each other mockingly, before cackling again. Eventually Marshall plucked and picked and strummed before testing the mic and being met with faulty levels. Patrons of the venue are not used to seeing technical difficulties, since the Old Town School is renowned for its quality of sound and attention to detail. It was as if everything Marshall had gone over in sound check was thrown out the window. That’s assuming, of course, that she did a sound check.

After the levels balanced out and Marshall pressed on with her reverbed guitar in a slight overdrive, her raw talent took over. It might’ve taken a while for Marshall to find her footing, but it was clear early on from the gorgeous rendition of Bonnie Prince Billy’s “Wolf Among Wolves” bleeding into her cover of the Rolling Stones’ “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” that Cat Power couldn’t be stymied by awkward stage presence or technical difficulties. Rather, the kinks sometimes became endearing, like when she sat down at the piano for the first time and told the silent audience that she hoped she would “pass the recital” — or when she asked if anyone in the crowd had a cigarette (despite the venue’s nonsmoking policy) and ended up tossing back and forth a pack of smokes and a lighter with an audience member before lighting up onstage.

Antics aside, the music grew stronger as the show went on, namely when she played her piano songs. What truly brought out Marshall’s talent, though, was her song selection in general. Even though she earned critical acclaim with last year’s Sun, she didn’t play a single song of the record. And while the decision to completely ignore her most recent record might strike some as strange, it was probably a good move. Rather than bastardizing Sun’s layered and textured compositions into stripped-down versions that would sound hollow and incomplete, Marshall focused on songs that would lend themselves to a minimalist show. Sometimes playing only fragments, sometimes playing full songs, and always blending the end of one into the start of another, Cat Power classics like “Good Woman,” “Names,” and “Metal Heart” were met with the most reverent of listeners, as their melancholy chords struck something much deeper than musical notes.

Having to make time for the 10:00 p.m. show, which wouldn’t start until closer to 11:00, Marshall wasn’t able to showcase her entire set — and favorites that would’ve been perfect for the set (e.g., “I Don’t Blame You” and “The Greatest”) unfortunately went un-played. But even with those glaring holes, the songs that she pulled off ended up painting her less as a troubled, paranoid individual and more as an endearingly eccentric and charming composer. It wasn’t a perfect show, by any means, but that’s what made it worthwhile.

In what can only be described as “The Most Awkward Live Cover in the History of Pop Music,” U2′s Bono and The Edge recently joined disco pioneers Chic on-stage to tackle the Daft Punk smash “Get Lucky.”

As Rolling Stone notes, the unlikely collaboration went down this past weekend at a charity auction after-party for (RED) in New York. And from the clip, one can only assume the whole “covering Daft Punk” thing came together at the last minute: Throughout, Bono struggles not only with the lyrics (“She’s up all night for dasuuumn / We’re up all night fugoofuunn”) and the melody, yelping randomly over Nile Rodgers’ inhumanly groovy riff.

It takes a lot to rattle Bono — this is a guy who literally wears sunglasses at night and hangs out with the Pope. But the U2 frontman hasn’t seemed this out-of-place since the video for “Discotheque.”

By the way, holy shit — I forgot just how awful “Discotheque” is. Wow. Let’s hope the Daft Punk cover is a misnomer and U2 don’t go “funky” on their upcoming studio LP.

The jokes practically write themselves: In their latest flash of brilliance, James Franco and Seth Rogen have recreated the music video for Kanye West’s “Bound 2″ (which, among other oddities, features a topless Kim Kardashian, a horrendous green-screen of the Grand Canyon, and West cruising the desert in a motorcycle).

The comedic duo filmed the hilarious mock-video during a shooting break on their upcoming comedy, The Interview. Let’s hope the film itself is as excellent as the clip itself.

Highlights simply overflow. I love Franco’s mock-gangsta hand gestures (the first ones, at the 1:00 mark, are spit-take-worthy), and Rogen’s bare-chested homage to Kardashian is stuff for the comedy time-capsule (check out his romantic expression at 1:58). It’s only a matter of time before Kanye calls them out on late-night television.

Watch below (and for additional fun, compare it with the original):

Original “Bound 2″ Video