For those of you who may find yourselves lolling around in front of a television today at around 10 AM -- or around 7 PM, for the rerun -- you may get a kick out of today's episode of MTV Diyes, where we celebrate the glory of 80s hair-metal. That's right, I'm talking about Poison, Whitesnake, Motley Crue, Def Leppard, Van Halen, Bon Jovi... relive your sordid pop-metal past! Air-guitar like crazy in your sala! And wonder at the extent of the damage done to the ozone layer by all that hairspray. Oh, and tomorrow -- Thursday, March 31 -- is quite possibly even more fun: we're featuring Pinoy Indie-Rockers. And yes, I know some people consider "indie" as a musical genre with a specific sound -- but we just took it to mean anyone without a major label deal, basically. Look out for videos by Twisted Halo, Ciudad, and Drip, among others.
2. New Favorite Band
If you're not listening to The Whiles, you really should be, unless you've got something against gorgeous melodies, sweet vocal harmonies, and lyrics about bittersweet longing. Their incredibly catchy acoustic prettiness puts me in mind of Kings of Convenience, kind of -- at least until an electric riff kicks in and the whole song suddenly takes a sharp turn skywards, as is the case on "Lonesome Reply." Songs to soothe and astonish, perfect for this sunstruck season. Go to their site and download some tunes awreddy. I recommend "Emily" and "Will You" for starters.
3. Lane on Writing
"The truth is, that if you're working on a piece at three in the morning, you're not Keats; you're just late." The truth hurts. In this instance, it also makes me smile in recognition. Found this old interview with Anthony Lane, film critic for The New Yorker:
"People think that you have these things called ideas and that writing is a matter of imposing them on the subject material, whereas it's only in the writing that I discover what it is that I think. And I can only write to deadline. I can't do the blank sheet. You know, 'Chapter One: he adored New York...'
"I have the feeling that writing can be all the better for being squeezed in around life. The other day I wrote a piece sitting on the floor of the train to Cambridge, which was straight out of Buster Keaton, with squatting room only. And there was one point last summer when there was someone on every floor of the house, so I wrote on the staircase with my computer on my lap. My thighs got sunburnt, which constitutes an accident at work. I am suing myself.
"Perhaps I understand artistic sensibility but not sensitivity. I don't do feuds, tears at midnight or guttering candles. I do sometimes do racking of the brow, but only with things like car insurance."