dsng.net - the daryl sng blog

Bolt of Lightning

Usain Bolt - what an athlete. Just sheer dominance - I think the distance between Bolt and Thompson was greater than the distance between Thompson and the last finalist. And such fun - the tap on his chest, the dancing, the posing... I can't wait for the Jamaica 4x100 team. Seeing as there're no Singapore reps there, might as well support the country of my relatives.

Although in terms of Singapore teams, I was on crazy tenterhooks following the Olympic table-tennis semis. Two words: Woo. Hoo.

Twitterific

Considering how long ago I joined Twitter, I've been really tardy about updating my blog to link in my status messages. But voila, up there, my current status. What I really need is not just microblogging, but a true way to integrate my stream of consciousness into Twitter when I want to. That's one way to clear the mind out of all the detritus that accumulates therein.

Death Cab for Cutie in Singapore

Managed to finagle a solitary Death Cab for Cutie concert ticket, but I'm quite happy to go to concerts solo - a legacy, perhaps, of days where I reviewed concerts for the school paper. And it was worth it. To be honest, I was always a bigger Postal Service fan than a Death Cab one, if we're looking at the Ben Gibbard oeuvre. But Death Cab are a surprisingly muscular band live than they sound on their albums (or it could be that, as Adrianna was telling me, Narrow Stairs, which I've not had a chance to listen to enough of, is a much different sounding album).

There were solid performances of "I Will Possess Your Heart" and "Styrofoam Plates", in all its bitter glory, and I noticed "Photobooth" and "Title and Registration" received raucous receptions, but as you might expect, "I Will Follow You Into the Dark" was the singalong favourite. Gibbard prefaced that with "Do you like love songs? Here's a love song" - and then came truly a song to break your heart. Nice fade to black after that. I suppose it's obvious for band with "death" in its name, but put together in the context of a concert it was quite striking how much of DCFC's music deals with mortality, both literal ("I Will Follow...", "Styrofoam Plates") and in terms of the figurative end of relationships ("Tiny Vessels" etc.).

It wasn't a perfect concert by any means - I thought the order of songs in the set list could've been better - but with cult-favourite bands like DCFC you always hit up against the "when do you ever get the band coming to Singapore, and will they ever come again?" factor, with the pent-up demand for the concerts to charge the atmosphere. I mean, I remember hearing "Something About Airplanes" when it first came out 10 years ago, when it seems much of the crowd hadn't hit double-digit ages yet. Ten years to show up on this fair isle. Small wonder the energy of the band's live sound and the crowd's anticipation propelled the show.

(Side note: can I just say, as the proud owner of 2 bunnies, how much I love the video of "I Will Follow You Into the Dark" with the rabbits?)

Labels: concerts, music

Once

Once is a small, perfectly formed film about some very big themes. Most obviously, it is about the power of music to connect - after all, it is a film about an Irish busker meeting a Czech immigrant in Dublin, and them making (very beautiful) music together. But it is also about the possibility of a brief, intense connection reverberating throughout one's life, something that is probably true for many people, but rarely depicted well in films - perhaps only the Before Sunrise / Before Sunset diptych do it properly.

Musicians Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova play the unnamed Guy and the Girl respectively, and their relationship, shot through a long lens, feels appropriately real rather than the stuff of film: lots of faltering words, awkward pauses, and missteps. There's no meet cute. No fireworks. Just the natural progression of two people coming together, trying to figure out the boundaries of their relationship, falling slowly.

And natural is the right word. Once is probably the least forced "musical" (if you can call it that), and one of the least forced films around. The songs come in precisely at points that musicians should be singing, rather than any unnatural burst into song; the long tracking shots are a nice, realistic counterpoint to the staccato cuts of rom-coms; and Dublin itself is presented in all its dear, dirty glory - while there's clearly the more upscale pedestrianised shopping areas of the Celtic Tiger's capital, it's also a city of bedsits and migrants crowding around to share TVs.

And the bittersweet ending (which, in a way, is the opposite of the famous ending to The Graduate) is a just-right moment of perfect joy and sadness mixed into one. It lingers, just like the relationship continues to reverberate for the Guy and the Girl, just like the Hansard/Irglova songs stay emblazoned into the mind. You fall slowly for Once, but by the time you get to its end, it has taken your heart.

Labels: film

Singapore Garden Festival

One of my favourite entries from last week's Singapore Garden Festival. Does seem very Irish.

(The free shoulder massage at the Clarins booth alone made the entry fee totally worthwhile.)

The Urban Verbs

I strongly recommend listening to the NPR recording of the Urban Verbs reunion. If only for the part in the middle where, 30 years later, Roddy Frantz (at least, I think it's Frantz) still clearly is bitter about Tom Carson's savage review of their album in Rolling Stone, and how that destroyed their career. It's hard to believe any one media outlet would have such an impact these days in music. Even Pitchfork...

Also - I'm always intrigued by random connections to people in disparate fields. So: Roddy Frantz's brother Chris drummed for the Talking Heads, fronted of course by David Byrne. Who's cousin to John Byrne, editor of Business Week, which is as non-rock a publication as you can get this side of Golf Digest. I suppose I like finding out things like the fact that Gloria Steinem is Christian Bale's stepmother, and Eve Ensler is Dylan McDermott's (apparently Dylan, nee Mark, chose his name based on a name that Ensler would have given a child that she miscarried). Or that Viggo Mortenson's ex is Exene from X. What a great sentence to say...

Labels: music

Friday crossword

One of the nicest things about the International Herald Tribune in print, in Singapore, is that it represents not just a way to get the New York Times news - I read nyt.com too often to really need that - but that I get the New York Times crossword, so I get to do them on newsprint. Somehow always seem much more appealing than the computer version, and this coming from someone who generally prefers to do everything online...

Anyway, I just wanted to say that I finished the Friday crossword in double-quick time. A point of pride! Always like to be able to finish it without help from Rex or Google, essentially because I got JUMPIN JACK FLASH (7d: Rolling Stones hit just before "Honky Tonk Women") crossing with SOJOURNERS (30a: Visitors) straight out the bat...

Death Cab For Cutie

Scored a Death Cab For Cutie ticket. Woohoo!

Caught my ear recently: Nada Surf, "See These Bones"; Amber Rubarth, "You Will Love This Song", and oddly, the Met Opera's production of The Barber of Seville. Big love for Girl Talk's Feed the Animals album, especially "In Step".

Away From Her

Less a real review of Away From Her, more a rave: Julie Christie is brilliant in the film. Not just brilliant in her acting - which she is - but brilliant as in luminiscent. Full of the vitality and life that makes you understand why her husband (played by Gordon Pinsent) never wants to be away from her, and that makes her decline from Alzheimer's all the more sad - and all the more puzzling. Sarah Polley directs with a spare touch that seems perfectly Canadian, and imperfectly wise beyond her years.

Come to think of it, between Dr Zhivago, McCabe and Mrs Miller, Shampoo, Afterglow, and this, I've seen over 4 decades of Christie's work, and it is a fantastic, devastating combination of acting chops, beauty, and, well, brilliance.

Labels: film

New Facebook

Trying out New Facebook. I like the look, although one suspects the lack of ad space might not last too long.

The New Yorker Conference - Airports

Have been watching the New Yorker Conference on my iPod, and I thought Paco Underhill on "Deconstructing the Airport" (chaired by Malcolm Gladwell) was very interesting, for anyone who's been stuck in the misery of standing shoeless and beltless near a security checkpoint with all your carry-on items, all the the flotsam and jetsam of modern life, sprawled out on the cold metal stand at the end of the X-ray machine.

There are very nice props given near the end to Singapore - Changi Airport's playground is mentioned to encapsulate how an airport can really do things well. It's the little things, I suppose. Just the fact that Changi provides little push-carts for carry-on luggage that allow me to ease my shoulder from the burden of laptop toting is great, compared to previous experiences with the otherwise highly-regarded Narita. (Of course, it does mean I'm much more likely to shop, since I don't have to lug things around, so the airport benefits too.)

Into the Wild

Into the Wild was incredibly affecting in a primal way. Chris McCandless' quest for meaning, his (very American) attempt to find that meaning in one's connection to the land, and his ultimate realisation of the importance of interpersonal relationships and of forgiveness - all that brought to mind the restlessness and angst of my teenage years. That, and Eddie Vedder's distinctive voice, of course, which was perfect for a film set in the early 1990s.

Now I keep wanting to listen to songs that suggest to me longing, isolation, and the search for belief: "Angel From Montgomery" (which was sung in the film), "Only Living Boy in New York", "The Boxer", "Chicago"...