throughsilver in blog

OWGP~!

Hyper-caffeinated Pride Open-weight GP Finals Play by Play

Right, so I might not have mentioned this on the blog before, but I’m very into my MMA (mixed martial Arts or ‘fighting’, for the lay people out there). And Pride FC (Fighting Championship, as opposed to Football Club) has just, like literally this morning, had a big show.

The Open-weight Grand Prix (OWGP) is essentially a live Streetfighter II, where fighters from around the world, and of different shapes and sizes, get together to brawl in tournament format. The winner gets the chance to fight current Pride Heavyweight champion Fyodor Emelianenko. Or M. Bison, for the purposes of this analogy.

Anyway, as I have access to a live, though temperamental (so expect a lot of buffering and glitching, which is no real big deal), internet feed, I decided to do play-by-play commentary for people on some message boards.

Now, as this was on in Japan, I had to get up at 6 in the morning. Combine that with my being an idiot and waking up early yesterday, thinking it was then, and I am knackered. So, this post consists of the thoughts of a sleep deprived man who slowly gets more articulate as the coffees kick in.

I thought it might make for (semi-)interesting stream of consciousness writing, at least. In the words of the mighty Radiohead, I might be wrong. Anyway, here goes (be prepared for lunacy and random MMA terminology):

1. Yousuke Nishijima vs. Evangelista Santos

Didn’t see the end of Nishijima-Cyborg, for some reason. I think that was when I was making the coffee. If it’s any consolation the coffee turned out nice. Cyborg threw some nice knees in the clinch early. I’m not used to watching MMA at 6AM. Cyborg apparently won with a choke.

2. PRIDE GP 2006 Semi-Final: Vanderlei Silva vs. Mirko Filipovic

Silva-Mirko was pretty good and pretty bad. Mirko came out to WILD BOYS by Duran Duran, which amused me no end. Silva came out smiling. Anyway.

WAND aggressive to start, but Mirko fires back. CroCop really grabs the fight by the reins and has WAND in trouble. Knocks him down, WAND pulls guard after some Aleks E-killer GnP. Blood check for Silva. Eyes look bad, as does nose. They let him fight. Tough couple of mins for him.

Restart on ground, WAND decent guard, stood up, yellow card to Silva. He doesn’t look like he’s gonna last long and a Left High Kick seals the deal. Sad but pretty predictable in hindsight. WAND was proper knocked out.

3. PRIDE GP 2006 Semi-Final: Antonio Rodrigo Nogueira vs. Josh Barnett

My connection sucks so this keeps cutting out. Missed the first few mins of Nog-Josh due to writing up this rubbish, but Josh got an early takedown and Nog ended up on top. Impressive, and nearly as impressive was Josh just throwing him off. They end up on the ground again, with Nog on top again, trying for stuff.

Within the last minute, Nog goes for a cross armbreaker. A juji-gatame, right? Am I right folks? But Josh gets himself over Nog and pulls out. Looks to get Nog’s back, but bell rings.

ROUND 2! To the ground quickly, with Josh on top (he’s not on fire though. Nor is Alan. That was for the old punk rock dudes). Nogueira gets on top after lots of purple blocks hit the screen. Maybe that’s his special move, post anaconda choke. Tries for some ground and pound. Josh tries to get up, but Nog sorta gets his back. It’s more like his side though. Josh goes for a leg dealy. That one where you hold onto the back of the ankle and try hyperextending the knee. Nog initially grabs Josh’s leg, but lets go. Last half-minute. Man, he’s cranking on it, and the ref breaks them up. I fear it was a tap, but it was just time running out.

JUDGES

1 Nog
2 Josh

3… JOSH~!

Damn. I’d rather have seen Nog-Mirko II than this final…

4. PRIDE GP 2006 Reserve: Sergei Kharitonov vs. Aleksander (brother of champ) Emelianenko

Aleks now in the ring. Man I never get used to the size of his head. Sergei with the best music yet, til it goes Eurohouse. I thought he could be the Pride version of Ignashov, but apparently not. He doesn’t drink enough for that anywway.

Totally brutal. They start out throwing down and Aleks with advantage. Sergei has to hug him. They go to ground, Sergei on top not doing too much. Lots of purple, buffering and pixellation. Long and short of it is they ended up back on the feet (looking at Khaz’s face he wasn’t relishing that), and it’s cool stuff. Back onto ground, and Aleks is in control, with SK in all fours, a la Tim Sylvia-Andrei Arlovski II. Punches, then an insane knee that smashes Sergei’s face in. He’s out cold, but ref is sleeping on the job. More punches, two big knees and finally it gets stopped. Jebus.

Also, it’s light now, which is a relief. You know the summer’s over when you wake up in the morning and it’s bloody dark. What a jip. Clip of Aleks killing Morais, which is prolly my cue to make another coffee. God I need a cuppajoe.

5. Lee Tae Hyun vs. Ricardo Morais

Hyun’s theme tune sounds like Linkin Park to begin with. Then it goes house, and then horns break out and it goes really freaky. That’s the best thing about this match. Toughman contest, I start writing something about Boris in the Music folder and I see Hyun looking hurt with concerned people around him. It gets stopped and he’s not protesting. Whatevs. Also the girls in these ads are well cute.

6. Kazuhiro Nakamura vs. Yoshihiro Nakao

Best theme tune ever. We start with the Thunderbirds countdown and then it goes into BATTLE WITHOUT HONOUR OR HUMANITY from ‘Kill Bill vol. 1’. I want Nakao to win this. Nakamura counters with some 60s sounding pop and dancing blue penguins with Santa hats. I’m scared. Good thing this coffee rules. ‘Arabica moulu’ apparently.

Into the second round. Sorry, Kaznak is probably the best fighter in the world that I can’t be arsed watching.

Wow, yeah. I think that fight just got automatically repressed. It went the distance anyway. God I can’t wait for Aronareem. Oh shit, non-tourney. Third round it is, then. Hmm, for some reason my internet went weird. Nakamura gets the Unanimous Decision and crowd is shitting on something. Maybe they like Nakao. He was fiery, I’ll give him that. Also, Battle Without Honour Or Humanity.

Intermission is fun. Some fighters have got in the ring for some laughs. Lightweight champion Takanori Gomi is such a cool bastard. Akihiro Gono, on the other hand, is laughing at his own jokes while wearing his red afro wig. What a butt face.

7. Mauricio ‘Shogun’ Rua vs. Cyrille Diabate

Sweet, fight time is back. This’ll be Diabate then. TEAM BOON! Did the graphic call him ‘The Shake’? If so, The American Athlete has some competition… And now it’s goddamn Shogun. First few seconds of theme tune put me in mind of LFO (not the boy band) with the squelches. Proceedings hurtle downhill as sub-sub-sub-KoxBox trance comes on. Screaming Woman tells us that HE’S BA-ACK! Excellent; I’d have hated for it to be a swerve and some ‘lost me smile’ promo to commence. Sounded better than when Goldberg did it, at least. And it’s The Snake. This should be punchy.

Staredown, and Diabate looks like the lankiest man in existence. Shogun with a quick takedown renders my theory most lame. Back up, then quickly back down. Rua on top. Still no fire, but that would have made for a surreal Jeff Lee Pierce song title. Shogun from mount to side control. Cyrille back up and the pink pixellation. Good shots from Sho and they’re back down. Kidney elbow. Full mount. In other news, I am fully awake now. GnP attempt. Shogun to his feet, kicks, stompstompstomp. Shogun really putting out a fire, but it’s a penalty kick that really wins this. Another stomp and Diabate is off for an early shower.

Shogun apparently is back.

8. Ricardo Arona vs. Alistair Overeem

Top notch. I think this is Metallica doing ‘Stone Cold Crazy’ on the video package and Arona has such pretty eyes. But can he win my heart from Overeem? Bloody hell. Overeem with the Eurohouse rubbish intro tune. Do I not like that. At least he has the excuse of being Dutch. Arona wins Round 0 with some entertaining Brazilian RnB-esque stuff.

Arona with his Silva strategy of looking slightly startled and throwing leg kicks. A minute in and he throws one that buckles Overeem’s knee and sends him down. Overem with butterfly guard. Arona passes it, natch, into sorta side control. Bit low on his body though. Al scoots into corner – not wise? Arona goes for back while throwing grounded knees. Gets the back. Well, the waist. Alistair resists the temptation to enjoy this tender moment, though the reverie is shattered by some hammer fists from behind. Arona clubbing, though not in the Dutch Eurohouse sense to which Alistair is accustomed. And… it gets stopped? Arona with his first win since this time last year, OTOH, and Al with another slightly weird loss.

Oh, he tapped. Something in his eye?

And now it’s the final. I almost don’t want this show to end – we’ll see what Josh and Mirko can acccomplish as regards the space-time continuum and my thirst for MMA entertainment. Vanderlei got proper battered.

9. PRIDE GP 2006 Final: Mirko ‘Cro Cop’ Filipovic vs. Josh Barnett

Bloody ‘Wild Boys’. He needs something more macho. Like an anime theme tune…

Hey, CroCop coming out to Sailor Moon or something would be entertainment personified. Croatian national anthem, and I always thought the dude with black hair was his dad. Apparently not. Anthem is stately enough, I suppose, and I actually want Josh to win this. See, I want Fyodor to make his body explode into a million new year’s eve fireworks. Josh has Geraldo Rivera in his Dad role. Actually, I think it’s the cut dude from off of UFC.

Also, breakfast part 2. After the cereal, it’s the poached eggs. Sunday~! And Takada with the royal proclamations. As cool as he is, he’s no Inoki when it comes to figureheads. Nogueira relegated to spectator breaks my heart. Staredown!

CrpCop leg kicks and Josh is dying for a takedown. Josh leg kick. Grabs a Cro Leg and no TD. Punches to head and Josh not a fan. Starts his own offence but ends up on his arse. Mirko in his guard, but time out for blood.

Josh elbows from bottom. CroCop no offence. Vague attempt at a triangle goes nowhere. Maybe Josh can win via bodyscissors? Not much happening, as I fantasise about Nogueira vs. Silva. Stood up. Fast and hard short punches from Josh. Syke! They’re from Mirko. Bit of clinch, but a chest knee from Cop scares Josh off. Evil dirty boxing from Mirko and Josh goes down! Frenzied GnP with Josh rolling around in a frenzy of Babalu-inspired escaping! Josh able to pull guard and I am impressed with his courage in the face of adversity, brother. Pace understandably slows. Josh suddenly taps because of MY EYE!

Hmm, foreshadowing from the staredown? Mirko Cheats 2 Win and books himself into the role of next Fyodor victim. Should be good though. Wow, WAND can’t collect his third place ‘due to injuries’. Shogun with Big Cheque. Mirko with the biggest cheque in the world, and Josh is forced to watch the gloating. Maybe Mirko will hit him over the head with a guitar.

Josh noble in defeat; doles out props. He’s gonna train, say his prayers and eat his vitamins and fight his way back, damnit! Credit where it’s due, he hung and bung for longer than I thought after he got smacked. Shades of Liddell-Babalu from the last UFC. Show gets more surreal as they pipe in Stevie Wonder.

It’s Mirko’s birthday, apparently. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YA, HAPPY BIIIIRTHDAY! 32 today, I think he said, and it’s the happiest day of his life. Happier even than the day he filmed that iced coffee ad where he punches the coffee beans during his talk show? I beg to differ. Mirko with arm round Josh for photo op, and I can see Bizzarnett dying on the inside just a little.

This should mean we get a rematch of the Filipovic-Emelianenko title fight from a year ago. Fyodor won a reasonably comfortable (if getting punched and kicked could ever be described as such) decision, but Filipovic remains the man who is most likely to knock him out. But will it happen? EH?

Lost: Michael came back!

I just saw this week’s E4 episode of Lost. Jack (Matthew Fox) and Kate (Evangeline Lilly) brought Michael (Harold Perrineau) back to the hatch after finding him staggering through the jungle. I thought this was going to be a slightly slow episode, but the formula they seem to be on, of one poor episode and one great one, suggested this might be hot. Last week’s, see, was… not so good.

It concerned the old couple; Rose and Whatshisname. It was a very nice tale of love, and the effort one puts forth in the hopes of not losing said love (I know, I’m such a sweet-talker), but it was all very reminiscent of when Emmerdale has an oldies’ storyline. It’s that kind of thing where they try to come up with something good for those characters – and that segment of the audience – but the stench of obligation emanates like a week-old fish.

So yeah, it wasn’t great, though it sent my mind racing with theories as to what the island represents. See, Rose had inoperable cancer in the ‘real world’, but seems healthy on the island. She knows the island has ‘cured’ Locke, as she saw him in his wheelchair, back in the airport.

Then, of course, was the previous week, with Hurley (Jorge Garcia) and his psychological illness. He became convinced, with the help of his imaginary bald friend who fell in love with Charlotte in Sex And The City, that the island was all an imagining of his; that if he jumped off a cliff, he’d be freed from the dream. His gal jumped in to reassure him of the island’s status of Real and then, just as we thought that was over, we saw a flashback of his hospital stay. She was there, all zoned out and sedated!

It got me to thinking that maybe the island is just this big wish fulfilment thing. Locke (Terry O’Quinn) walking, Rose not being ill, Hurley’s girlfriend being a psychologist on the island (I know, I’ve forgotten her name. I Googled, but the results were getting too close to spoiler status for comfort…

I digress, as per usual. This week was back to being good. I still hate the E4 continuity bloke, as he always feels the need to say what’s going to happen in the coming episode, but anyway. We learned a lot about The Others thanks to our friend Fake Henry (their boss is apparently not very forgiving), and there was a heartening amount of character crossover in Analucia’s airport flashback.

Oh, and Michael woke up.

The last few minutes of the episode, while something I taped, I have watched only the once. I had a bad feeling about the end of the episode, probably stemming from the whole ‘Analucia can’t kill Fake Henry’ thing, but it’s hard to articulate. I was certainly shocked.

I was sitting there, leaning forward with hand over my mouth through the credits and well into the ad break. After a bunch of episodes that largely had weak tags, this was a reassuringly strong ending. Why did Michael do what he did? And not in a melodramatic ‘for the love of God’ angle, but just what was his motivation?

Did The Others get to him while he was allegedly spying on them? Was it some really delayed act of revenge for when she swerved them at the start of the season, coupled with being strung out? Obviously, shooting Hurley’s girl was an act of instinct, and then turning the gun on himself to finish, while staring blankly at Fake Henry… weirdness.

I thought there might have been some form of verbal communication between the two before he did it, but as usual Lost throws up more questions than answers. I really need to find out who it is who sang that song. Anyway, it’s best not to write when too tired, because unfocused rambling like this is often the result.

Bottom line is: Lost has just got really exciting, and at a time when it needed to ratchet up the intensity.

boris / dronevil -final-

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So I’ve just received the latest Boris album. Apparently released in predictably limited numbers last year on vinyl, Inoxia just released the set on double CD. The packaging is excellent (there are six CD-shaped thin paper inserts, three for each disc, that have vague pics of the band members) as per usual, and I figured I might as well learn to use this new-fangled digital camera technology to see what I can do.

Not listened to it yet, but when I get back in I’ll give it a spin. Taking a leaf out of the book of Neurosis (who did this with their Times of Grace and Grace set), Boris suggest the listener plays each disc at the same time, on separate stereo systems. Now, I never did it with the Neurosis release (primarily because I refused to pay twice for what was essentially a single listening experience split into two), but I might drag up a little stereo system for this. Not sure how well a combination of my expensive Death Deck and a tinny portable would work, but I’m sure I’ll get the idea. Anyway, front and back cover!

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Because I am such a consumer, fashionista (har), and all-round collector, I opted to get the t-shirt as well; Boris always makes such nice t-shirts. I had to wait a couple of days after release to make my purchase and, knowing both how limited Boris releases are, and how quick people are to buy things up, I was concerned. Luckily for me, most Metal fans are fatty boom batty, so XL and L were sold out, but my dear Medium tees remained (now sold out. Excellent). And here it is!

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In conclusion, this is how my Boris CD collection is currently looking. Very nice indeed. And to prevent this from totally being a teen diary entry, I’ll post some Initial Thoughts when I get this listened to. Expectations are high, and all I have to say is: roll on the sunn(o))) collaboration…

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What’s a Manifesto?

Simon Reynolds recently wrote a very interesting piece, not on music, but on the state of music writing. It’s something that everyone should read, as I consider him something of the daddy when it comes to people today who write about music.

Some would suggest that mantle should go to Paul Morley, but my only exposure to him has been his incredibly annoying turns on Newsnight Review, where he attempts to romanticise any old tat in that REALLY… EARNEST… WAY that he does. But apparently it’s all about his writing, so I intend to pick up a book before too long. I don’t want to be hating on him for the wrong reasons now.

So anyway, Reynolds. I’ve really noticed him popping up everywhere of late (well, by that I mean the Guardian Film & Music supplement and the Guardian Guide), though I know him primarily from his work with The Wire magazine, wherein he seems to know about every style of music ever.

And I don’t mean that in a facetious manner, either; the man really knows his stuff. In fact, I considered it something of a victory when he remarked on his blog fairly recently that he had never heard of the band Isis. A victory because I know all about them. Small, because his ignorance on the subject is probably a rather damning indictment of the band.

That was about this current series of gigs in London, where bands play their alleged ‘overlooked classic’ albums in their entirety. There are some good choices (Girls Against Boys playing Venus Luxure No. 1 Baby is something I’d like to have been a part of), but stuff like Isis’ Oceanic is a real head-scratcher.

Not only because, as Reynolds pointed out, some of these albums are a tad young to be considered any kind of ‘classic’ (come on, Oceanic came out in late 2002), but also because Isis just aren’t that good.

And that’s not in the sense that Metal bands can’t be making classics, because obviously I am a big fan of what constitutes Metal. My problem there is that the band, along with that other flavour of the month Pelican, are just so damn middle of the road.

It’s one thing for practitioners of Metal to be pushing the boundaries (a good thing), and even to be searching for new audiences (another good thing). It’s just that, according to these bands, this has to be done by reducing Metal to the kind of aural wallpaper bland nothingness that the likes of Explosions in the Sky, Sigur Rós and Mogwai (occasionally, though the latter band’s latest is a return to noisy form) have been known to foist on Indie music since 2001.

It’s a shame, because there are some great Metal bands that are doing new(ish) things with the form, such as the excellent Kayo Dot (really effective uses of dynamics, as the quiet bits really are beautiful), Mouth Of The Architect and Genghis Tron (scintillating mix of Grindcore and electronics, both done well, that never seems to jar).

And besides, if they wanted a token ‘Metal’ band for their ‘overlooked classics’ series, then they should to go the album that started this particular scene (and did it best), Through Silver In Blood, by Neurosis.

But I digress. Simon Reynolds has just written a piece for Frieze in which he discusses the art of music writing, and the sorry state it has apparently fallen into.

I won’t go into it too much here (because you should really read it), but the gist is that, as music itself is devalued and commoditised, losing its social power and anger, so too does the writing on it. The current (and seemingly constant) retro-obsession isn’t helping. And I agree. Music nowadays is in something of a bind.

Mainstream music is devoid of anything particularly interesting. The best band who sells a million-plus of each album is likely Tool and, while they have just released a really good album, they have been on a very gradual decline after 1996.

Otherwise, it’s just people making the best of a bad situation and listening to the best pop music that’s doing the rounds. And while I like the best pop music (and some not-so-best), it’s hardly life-changing stuff.

Away from the mainstream (let us not even speak of The Streets/Snow Patrol/Kaiser Chiefs), we have an underground that has become so fragmented as to lose pretty much any unifying power it once had.

In HipHop, there has been a battle, for years now, between what scenesters consider ‘true’ HipHop (Masta Ace, Ghostface, et al) against what they deem ‘backpack’ music, a term I really hate. This seems to stretch from the indie-weirdo likes of Anticon right through to the primarily noisy machismo of the Def Jux label (Cannibal Ox, Mr. Lif). That’s all so 2001, anyway…

Elsewhere, there are battles of words about whether Grime is dead, whether it was ever alive, what exactly constitutes Dubstep (which really just sounds to my untrained ears like Tricky’s Pre-Millennium Tension or Massive Attack’s Mezzanine, just not as good), and the discourse just seems to be, to borrow a phrase from Faith No More’s Bill Gould, like a bunch of ants screaming.

I was going to write a post a couple of months ago, inspired by something I read, about the proliferation of broadband and file-sharing networks leading to an almost autistic desire for music fans to collect everything they humanly could, to hear everything (arguably, while actually listening to none of it).

And that has happened to me; I feel the need to hear everything, and as a result, everything is devalued. Fortunately, I have toned that tendency down quite a bit of late, but it is a very real issue when it comes to personal approaches to music. I have been planning on posting my top 50 albums of last year since February, and it gets delayed as I, Pokémon-style, gotta catch them all!

So yeah, I agree with Simon. The fragmentation of music, as well as its reduction in magazines to shorter, shallower, reviews means that not only is there little to say anymore, but that the places to say it are fewer and farther between.

Even a magazine like Uncut, which as recently as a few years ago ran a very interesting essay on the mixing of what was termed ‘rock’s emotion with electronic music’s intelligence’ (to paraphrase) is now just a glossy home of list-o-mania and icon fetish.

I just feel a tad weird writing this. Out of my depth, maybe. Or self-important (and believe me, I’m not that deluded). The Frieze article just struck a chord with me, as what Reynolds describes needs to happen with music writing is something I have been trying to do. Granted, I’ve not been doing it very well, and with a definite preference of the personal over the social, but I’m still young, and I feel an improvement is gradually being made.

So what’s the point of this post? Aside from being an excuse to rant (this has all been stream-of-consciousness, like you couldn’t tell already from its randomness) I don’t know really, other than this is what throughsilver in blog is attempting to be about. Somewhat intelligent writing on music, even if the only people reading it are myself and crickets. Could it be that I have a manifesto?

Of course, that would mean I have to actually write about music, but I’m getting there…