Sinister: sad music bastards

[Pulpbot at xxx.com]

Damn, I thought I'd be the first to post about "High Fidelity" and report 
that I hooted loudly and knowingly when Seymour Stein starting playing. 
Fellow listee and movie companion Madflowr joined in my guffaws of indie 
knowingness and we came about a button's width to exchanging high fives. 
Imagine Belle and Sebastian were the New York Yankies strolling out on the 
field and we were the drunken fans with B&S painted in green on our bare 
chests, sloshing beer on the Radiohead fans. 
The movie was funny as hell, but just alright in careful contemplation. God, 
it's so weird to see a Slits album 15-feet high. Attack of the Giant Slits, 
indeed. I wonder what Joe Blow who stopped buying records after Billy Joel 
released "The Stranger" would make of it. But a relatively tiny number of 
people would get the scene where John Cusack (isn't my boyfriend beautiful, 
y'all?) apprehends shoplifers with Brian Eno, Minutemen and other 
unlike-minded bands, and Cusack's line after he busts them unless you know 
it's very dissimilar music. 'Course the movie doesn't have many moments like 
that; otherwise it'd be playing only DC instead of a mall in Virginia. 
--Jennifer
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