Viewport width =

Issue 18, 2015

Class

Share on FacebookShare on Google+Pin on PinterestTweet about this on Twitter

News

  • The VUWSA Executive Half Year Reports

  • Review launched into NZ’s family violence laws

  • Students: Get off my lawn!

  • Buses to become “above ground subways”

  • It’s a hard-knock life for us

  • Vic students only slightly dumber than average!

  • Features

  • exec reports

    The VUWSA Executive Half Year Reports

    Which VUWSA Exec member is prone to the most cringeworthy statements? Who’s the biggest GC? And how hot is Rick? The Exec has delivered their half-year reports, and it’s time for Salient to hand out semi-arbitrary grades

    by

  • sex work

    The Working Girl’s Class

    A new class of sex worker is breaking all of the traditional stereotypes

    by

  • freemasons

    Freemasons: Just Dudes Being Dudes

    There is not a single person who has been to South America who has not told everyone they have been to South America—not even the CEO of the New Zealand Freemasons

    by

  • mensa

    Mensa, Cultural Bias, and Immeasurable Invalidity

    – SPONSORED – Want slightly cheaper cakes or discounted Resene wallpaper? Well, you’re in luck! All you need to do is overcome any motor skill limitations on “colouring in tiny circles at high speed” and join Mensa, the “genius club”, to enjoy these member benefits. What even is Mensa? Mensa is the oldest and largest […]

    by

  • bird shit

    Bird Shit Island

    – SPONSORED – On July 20 2015, over two years after veteran nurse Marianne Evers went public with allegations of concentration camp-like conditions in Australia’s asylum seeker detention centre in Nauru, an Australian Senate inquiry into the allegations of abuse at the centre conducted a final, chilling round of public hearings. Staff contracted by the […]

    by

  • buying class

    Buying Class

    – SPONSORED – How many ways do you think there are to tie the average necktie? According to statistical physicist Thomas Fink, mathematically there are 85, based on shape, symmetry and the way in which the tie is laid at each point one ties the knot. Fink published his findings in The 85 Ways to […]

    by

  • mother knows

    Mother Knows

    – SPONSORED – Mother knows. Mother knows her daughter is beautiful. Mother knows these boys, shades of men, wound her heart and body. Aching from the search for love, lust and short term affection to temporarily assuage her soul and make up for a dad who was never there. She knows her daughter is beautiful. […]

    by

  • exec reports

    The VUWSA Executive Half Year Reports

    Which VUWSA Exec member is prone to the most cringeworthy statements? Who’s the biggest GC? And how hot is Rick? The Exec has delivered their half-year reports, and it’s time for Salient to hand out semi-arbitrary grades

    by

  • sex work

    The Working Girl’s Class

    A new class of sex worker is breaking all of the traditional stereotypes

    by

  • freemasons

    Freemasons: Just Dudes Being Dudes

    There is not a single person who has been to South America who has not told everyone they have been to South America—not even the CEO of the New Zealand Freemasons

    by

  • mensa

    Mensa, Cultural Bias, and Immeasurable Invalidity

    – SPONSORED – Want slightly cheaper cakes or discounted Resene wallpaper? Well, you’re in luck! All you need to do is overcome any motor skill limitations on “colouring in tiny circles at high speed” and join Mensa, the “genius club”, to enjoy these member benefits. What even is Mensa? Mensa is the oldest and largest […]

    by

  • bird shit

    Bird Shit Island

    – SPONSORED – On July 20 2015, over two years after veteran nurse Marianne Evers went public with allegations of concentration camp-like conditions in Australia’s asylum seeker detention centre in Nauru, an Australian Senate inquiry into the allegations of abuse at the centre conducted a final, chilling round of public hearings. Staff contracted by the […]

    by

  • buying class

    Buying Class

    – SPONSORED – How many ways do you think there are to tie the average necktie? According to statistical physicist Thomas Fink, mathematically there are 85, based on shape, symmetry and the way in which the tie is laid at each point one ties the knot. Fink published his findings in The 85 Ways to […]

    by

  • mother knows

    Mother Knows

    – SPONSORED – Mother knows. Mother knows her daughter is beautiful. Mother knows these boys, shades of men, wound her heart and body. Aching from the search for love, lust and short term affection to temporarily assuage her soul and make up for a dad who was never there. She knows her daughter is beautiful. […]

    by

  • Arts and Science

  • Interview with Ant Timpson

    Ant Timpson isn’t a household name; he should be, but that’s a consequence of working in underground cinema. Timpson is known in the film industry as Mr Filmhead for his extensive producing, writing, and sometimes directing work in NZ cinema, as well as his efforts to bring underrepresented filmmakers’ art to the people. He started the famous film making festival 48Hours, which now involves 10,000 filmmakers, as well as the Incredibly Strange film festival, which is a major chunk of the NZ International Film Festival. This year, the selection couldn’t be any more diverse; visit the Incredibly Strange section on the film festival’s website and you’re guaranteed to find a film you’ll want to see.

    H: Incredibly Strange is 21 now, a similar age to most students. What was the process like, realising that there was an opportunity for a festival like this, and what did you have to do to get the festival off the ground right in the early days?  

    A: Well thanks, firstly, for making me feel really old—that’s awesome. It does seem crazy that the target audience is as old as the festival. But nothing has really changed since the early days; it was always about getting a group of like-minded people together into a cinema to watch films that were underrepresented in terms of the theatrical experience. Back in the day, when the festival first launched in 1994, we really didn’t have an eclectic film culture in NZ and there was no travelling circus where people could just jump on board.

    We only planned to do it in one city, but it really took off. The first year, it kept expanding from Wellington, to Auckland, to cities all around the place. It eventually went through a few manifestations depending on where my tolerance was for certain films. We started off playing all the big cult titles and then moved into more obscure theatre that I’m not even sure the most die-hard film buffs would know about. But we just keep up to date with what is happening on the world scene and we have a focus on the contemporary.

    H: Where do you want to take the festival? Are you looking always to push boundaries?

    A: Not really. It’s really easy to provoke and shock people these days, so it’s not really a driving force. That kind of person is who I left 30 years ago as a kid, when I used to sneak into theatres to watch Faces of Death, or whatever. And now, with people watching ISIS beheading videos on their Facebook news feeds, I wouldn’t want anything that is just shamelessly provocative for the sake of it. I’ve always been a populist at heart, and have always wanted to show something supremely entertaining so people feel like they’ve spent their money well and have had a great time. There will always be flashpoint films that are causing waves around the circuit, but it’s the jobs of sales agents and distributors to highlight these—there’s always a film at Cannes that gets everyone shocked; it happens every year. But a good film is going to go a lot further than a mediocre one with a shocking scene in it.

    H: I’d say the festival is an absolute success story, but you’ve talked before about the struggle to get NZers to go see homegrown horror flicks. Your film, Housebound, had great reviews and was covered widely by media, yet only a small fraction of the NZ public was aware of the film. Why do you think audiences are so small?

    A: Audiences are really conditioned into event films—you can’t blame them. You can’t say the average movie-goer is a complete moron and that’s why they didn’t see our complete masterpiece. People will always want to go see movies with their favourite stars or directors. It’s not that shocking that great little films slip through the gaps sometimes, given how tight the market is at the moment. It’s just a shame we don’t have a platform as strong as America does, which is video on demand.

    We’re in a really weird transition phase, where physical media is dying, but we haven’t filled the gap with a really strong video on demand service, so it’s a really tough place for directors to reach audiences here. But the good news is that our films are reaching audiences internationally. That kind of sweetens the deal, and it will always be great to play films at home, but if you’re getting millions viewers overseas, it’s okay, because the ultimate goal is more people watching what you have made.

    H: For those unadjusted to cult films, but wouldn’t mind stepping toes outside of the mainstream, where should they start? What are some good foundational films to ignite a fetish for the incredibly strange? 

    A: It’s a tough question to answer, because, originally, the festival was about Russ Meyer, John Waters and Ed Wood, which make the pantheon of strong, foundation-building cult films. Examples being Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!, Pink Flamingos, Plan 9 from Outer Space. If you’ve seen 2001: Space Odyssey then you should see these films as well because they are part of the lexicon of cinema language. What we do now in the Incredibly Strange festival is looking for the best in the genre circuit. We’re always trying to find great new voices, and sometimes it’s first-time filmmakers, or filmmakers we have been following. Students are more sophisticated than they used to be, because they are hyper-aware of the content out there. It’s not friends around the campfire asking if you’ve seen this and that, it’s now more like going online and talking to guys in New York, or London. These days, you can go on YouTube or illegally download something.

    H: Something students specialise in…

    A: Yeah, I fight with it. One part of me hates the access and how easy it is, because I’m a bit of an elitist-populist, if that makes any sense at all? The other part of thinks that, as much as it’s awesome to be in a position to virtually find anything you want and create your own ultimate playlist of films, it’s a struggle for me. Students and people of your age, I just don’t think you know how good you’ve got it at the moment. You didn’t go through the Dark Ages.

    H: You co-produced two of the eight titles in the section, Deathgasm and Turbo Kid, and while they’re both strange and have an influx of gore, they appear as a very different spectacle. How do you decide what films you want to be a part of? What does it take to get you on board?

    A: Both films overlap, but, in terms of how I got involved, they’re very different scenarios. For one, it was the people involved and, for the other one, I didn’t really know the director at all, but it was part of a local competition we ran called “Make My Horror Movie” and it came out of that as a winner. It was a really unusual process. Both of them came out of competitions actually, so it wasn’t the traditional flow development phase in which most films come to life. So the end result is that they both worked out.

    In terms of the actual content, anyone who goes and sees Turbo Kid will probably love Deathgasm as well. You don’t have to be a post-apocalyptic fan to enjoy Turbo Kid, and you don’t need to be a metalhead to love Deathgasm.  They both have this goofy sweet innocence that will appeal to people who love the John Hughes “coming of age” films just as much as the crazy splatter films of Peter Jackson or whoever. When you say “horror movies”, sometimes people just switch and think “mean-spirited horror”, but these are more joyous celebrations of young life.

    H: You’re a Tommy Wiseau fan and you helped distribute The Room in our part of the globe, so I guess you could say you have business ties. If he were willing to remake any film of your choosing, what film would you assign him, and why?

    A: You’d have to go with Citizen Kane, wouldn’t you? The canvas and scope of that film and the breadth of Tommy’s acting ability; I think it would be a perfect harmony. Yeah, I’d love to see Tommy Wiseau’s Citizen Kane—I’d sign up for that. The problem with Tommy, though, is that he’s so self-aware now, which is the biggest issue. Nothing like The Room will ever exist again, because everything he has been involved with post-The Room is absolutely terrifying, plus he has been in on the joke which is not why The Room is so spectacular in all its train wreck glory. I truly feel it will be the last pure cult film that is not being manufactured. Cult films always grew through fan appreciation that developed over time by repeat watching from loyal fans, and The Room is pretty much the last one of those, and the midnight circuit has really died in terms of exhibitions.

    by

  • How to Improve Wellington’s Art Scene in 45 Simple Steps
    1. Write about art for your university magazine.
    2. Struggle to find anything to write about.
    3. Binge on canned peaches and stare into the void you have created through many years of poor sleep habits and a complete lack of time management.
    4. Go for a walk, be bored to tears.
    5. Also cry at the exclusivity of galleries and their wanky sounding exhibit names.
    6. Go to every wanky sounding exhibit there is and fart loudly.
    7. Go to every wanky sounding exhibit and scream loudly.
    8. Steps six and seven at the same time.
    9. Go to the opening of a wanky sounding exhibit and tell the artist they’re being too literal.
    10. Go to the opening of a wanky sounding exhibit and try to financially cripple “the man” by abusing the free booze. You’re a lightweight and already drunk from two glasses of wine; your attempt at “sticking it to the man” is less effective than you thought.
    11. Go to the opening of a wanky sounding exhibit and fight the artist.
    12. Open your own gallery only displaying your own artwork.
    13. Validate the artwork in your gallery by saying it was the last piece painted by the artist before they passed away in a tragic but strange incident involving a hairbrush.
    14. Validate the artwork in your gallery by saying a child painted it.
    15. Validate the artwork in your gallery by saying a disabled elephant painted it.
    16. Validate the artwork in your gallery by saying it was part of the set of the 1997 film Flubber.
    17. Sink into a deep depression because the one person who won’t believe the false validation is yourself.
    18. Reopen the gallery under your own name.
    19. Artbros don’t come because there’s no wanky sounding name.
    20. Old rich white people don’t come because there’s no wanky sounding name.
    21. No one comes at all because the artist is still alive, it wasn’t painted by a child or a disabled animal nor was it part of the set of the 1997 movie Flubber.
    22. Convince yourself that all the greatest minds were never understood in their time; your art will be worth millions in 2420.
    23. Close your gallery and become a vigilante.
    24. Remove all the art out of other galleries and put them in public toilets.
    25. Remove all the art out of other galleries and put them on your mother’s coffee table.
    26. Remove all the art out of other galleries and put them in the path of oncoming traffic.
    27. Convert the now empty galleries to 24hr cinemas streaming Gilmore Girls.
    28. Make lifelong friendships with everyone else watching Gilmore Girls with you in defunct art spaces.
    29. Watch Gilmore Girls for 48 hours nonstop.
    30. Forget to sleep and forget to drink water during this time, hallucinate from malnutrition.
    31. Draw a self-portrait while you hallucinate and paste it on the notice board at New World.
    32. Scream at the New World manager when they tell you to take it down.
    33. Refuse to leave the supermarket and set a new standard for performance art.
    34. Bathe and brush your teeth with the mussels.
    35. Wash your clothes using bottles of water and dry them with warm rotisserie chickens.
    36. Become known as the Crazed But Polite Hermit of New World.
    37. Find a protege purchasing shaved ham. They will be your only point of contact to the outside world.
    38. Tell your protege to bring you several live tortoises.
    39. Put the tortoises in the pick n mix.
    40. Watch as grocery shoppers confuse gummy bears with tortoises.
    41. Record the entire thing on 8mm film and use intelligent dance music for the soundtrack.
    42. Enter your short film into Cannes.
    43. Win the Palme d’Or.
    44. Watch tourists flock to Wellington and New World, the place where The Tortoise and the Bear was filmed.
    45. Have a tourist ask you for the time. They have no idea who you are yet they flew all this way for your creation. The student has become the master and then reverted back to student. Life becomes art. Art becomes life. You cry. You have evoked emotion. Albeit in yourself, but emotion nonetheless. It’s the first profound experience of art anyone in this city has ever had. Congratulations, you have just improved Wellington’s art scene.

    by

  • The elusive Elena Ferrante

    “Books, once they are written, have no need of their authors.”

    So wrote Elena Ferrante in a correspondence with The New Yorker’s James Wood. This lovely quip is intended as justification of Ferrante’s preference for anonymity (probably pseudonymity); why she insists on being reclusive, out-hermitting even Pynchon. We know that she’s a she because she identifies as a mother and that, as Dayna Tortorici sallied, “no man would write so well and not take credit for it”.

    But Ferrante’s penchant for hermitude also serves another function; once the work is done, it’s done, and the text becomes irrevocably dis-entwined from the author—they become a reader, or an interpreter, of their own creation. So, no, Dumbledore is not gay just because J.K. Rowling says so. If there is nothing in the text proper that affirms a reading, that reading cannot be said to have meaning. So, ironically, we glean something else from Ferrante. Her prose is obviously judiciously styled. These are works that have been laboured over.

    Finally, the quote reveals the inner workings of the publishing industry—review copies get sent out, reviews get sent in, sales begin, reports are generated. Either it all goes well, middlingly, or not. Authors are literally powerless in the face of reviews.

    The reviews themselves are worthy of a quick tangent: there are two types of review. One is as simple as ascertaining whether a book is good, worth reading and why. The other, more interesting, fruitful and discursive type, puts the book under rigid (sometimes psycho-) analysis, deconstructs themes and language and bugaboos and constructions, and what makes something flawed beyond the boring “good and bad” dichotomy.

    Ordinarily I would opt for the latter, but in this rare instance I’ll do the former, after some patter about the author.

    Ferrante has been around forever but has achieved prominence in the anglosphere only this decade. Her Neapolitan novels, a four-part series that has been compared to Proust (of course), Marias, and Knausgaard in its ambition, scope, and minutiae, have been heralded as the most important contributions to literature in the century thus far.

    While that claim might be a tad hyperbolic (Sergia de la Pava’s A Naked Singularity and McBride’s A Girl is a Half-Formed Thing take that particular trophy in my estimation), it is by no means unfounded.

    The Neapolitan novels, starting with My Brilliant Friend, arch the parabolic and algorithmic curves of a relationship between two women: the camaraderie, the competitiveness, the bifurcating life choices and, shiningly, the love and warmth of genuine human connection.

    There’s anger here too, and candour; not even Fellini went to such lengths to disabuse people of the whole “Mediterranean as cultured opulent paradise” thing. Parts are staggeringly bleak, rendered more so by the nonchalant voice in which they are imparted; the visceral depiction of lower-socioeconomic areas, the “sewers”, rings true with savage authenticity and offer a glimpse into an Italy rarely broached.

    This lack of exotification is refreshing, but it does not impede the sheer readability of the works. These are words and worlds and people you’ll want to get lost in, and real life might pale a little in comparison afterwards. Which is to say: as well as a literary-masterwork, Ferrante has contrived herself a good ol’-fashioned page-turner saga. Do not take these books into the bathroom unless you want haemorrhoids (although I speak from experience when I say: totally worth it).

    So basically: The Neapolitan series is superb. You should buy it, read it, read it ten times more, lend your copy out, buy another one, rinse, repeat. Y’know how Mitchell, Knausgaard, Lee, James, Child, maybe Philip Roth and maybe Ali Smith all have novels coming out this year? If I had to choose, I would happily defer the release date of all of those titles indefinitely if it meant I could get my grubby mitts on the fourth and final instalment, due to be published September of this year. That is how good it is; it’s the kind of book so good that it renders lesser efforts not just minor but pointless and extraneous—at least, when there are books like these to be read.

    by

  • What to do when your boy toy dresses like shit

    Ancient proverb: Straight* boys dress like randomised Sims.

    I am currently (as of a week before time of print) seeing a guy who dresses uncannily like a suburban dad, but not in the ironic, “bespectacled and bearded with appreciation of craft beer” sense; more in the “closer to 30 than 20 and dressing age appropriate” sense. My flatmate’s boyfriend is into “loud cardigans”, not to mention loud ties, loud shirts, and the occasional deafening (more accurately “blinding”) combination of a number of these.

    Look around yourself, observe the wildlife—soak in the bucket hats, Nike slides and weird clashing prints that lead you to wonder if the individual in question dressed themselves in the dark. In what realm do any of these ever rationally seem like a good idea?

    How to prevent this:

    Option #1: Exclusively date architecture/design students. (This worked for me for the entire first half of my degree.)

    Option #2: Prepare for the marital ritual of throwing your husband’s clothes off the balcony—fling every single item of your male counterpart’s clothing you deem unacceptable to be worn in public out of a nearby window. (This has actually been a successful venture in 1/1 road tests.)

    Option #3/4: 

    EITHER:

    Subtly suggest that perhaps instead of wearing [insert offensive item of clothing] they replace it with [insert inoffensive item of clothing that won’t scare them but will significantly improve their aesthetic]. Repeat until you’ve weeded out the worst of it.

    OR:

    If the pragmatic method is unsuccessful, nail a bottle of wine each and convince them to spend the remainder of their course-related costs on the Stolen Girlfriends Club/Zambesi A/W men’s sale sections (the sale aspect is vital as these items are non-refundable, so they can’t soberly return them).

    Option #5: Accept the fact that boys are gross, suck it up and deal. Or “stop being horrible, he is an adult and has the human right to choose his own clothing”, as aforementioned flatmate so eloquently put it (she is wrong, nobody who is not a member of Fall Out Boy is allowed to wear white jeans, okay).

    *Disclaimer: This is in no way intended as heteronormative and this advice can be applied to any significant other and/or general dating human whom you feel dresses in a manner which cramps your vibe.

    Further disclaimer: No fragile male egos were harmed in the process of writing this column.

    P.S. After having read this, said offending white jeans have been retired—there is hope for even the most dire stylistic mishaps. (Possible blow to fragile male ego may, however, have been sustained in the progress.)

    by

  • Tame Impala—Currents

    ★★★★

    It would be easy for Tame Impala to become pigeonholed to one particular sound. The project’s two previous albums—Innerspeaker and Lonerism—have both featured heavy use of guitars and fuzz with Kevin Parker’s Lennon-esque voice seeping into the mix, establishing Tame Impala to be the psychedelic group of the moment. I mean, “Elephant” paid for half of Kevin Parker’s house (supposedly). However, Parker is not one to rest on his laurels. Currents is a different and transitional album for Tame Impala, in that it is unabashedly a pop album.

    Perhaps it’s Parker’s involvement with Mark Ronson’s latest album, Uptown Special, but in any event, Parker has learned to write hooks and pop songs. An obvious example is “The Less I Know The Better”. This track, like many others on Currents, is virtually devoid of the fuzzy guitars that previously became staples of the Tame Impala sound, and replaces them with massive synths, creating a sort of new-school disco vibe. Moreover, “The Less I Know…” is an out and out pop track, featuring some of Parker’s dorkiest lyrics yet, as we hear a tale of emotional vacancy and unrequited love, based around “Heather” and “Trevor”. Parker exudes a goofy charm, and is certainly breaking new ground for Tame Impala. A lot of the tracks on Currents—“The Moment” and “Eventually” in particular—are in a similar vein, featuring huge synths and basslines, coupled with simple but effective lyrics and catchy melodies. In addition to this, Currents does feature what is—arguably—Tame Impala’s most adventurous track yet, in the form of the seven and a half minute opener, “Let It Happen”. This track has everything Tame Impala is renowned for: driving drums, Parker’s soothing falsetto, and great riffs—whether that’s on a synth and/or a guitar.

    Parker is certainly brave, not only for starting one of the more heavily-anticipated albums of the year with a seven and a half minute song, but for making a psych-pop album that stands as a new and unique statement amidst what is so far an impeccable discography. Currents is certainly one of my favourite albums of the year thus far, and it bodes well for the progression of Tame Impala going forward.

    by

  • Rocket League

    ★★★★

    As someone who thinks deeply about these kinds of things, I often have to sit back and ponder on the state of the games industry when one of the most popular games of the year comes around with absolutely no expectation that it would ever amount to anything.

    Rocket League, a physics-based vehicular soccer game from indie developers Psyonix, has blasted off from out of the blue and has, as of writing, been downloaded over 5 million times over both PS4 (boosted by it being free for PS+ members) and PC (where I had to fork out $24 for it, because #pcmasterrace). This is the true definition of a sleeper hit, and the only way that games become one is by being a big load of fun.

    Football with cars is not exactly a new idea; I can recall the Top Gear lads doing at least one segment based on it and even doing something similar at their live shows. The idea is so not unique that Rocket League is, in fact, a sequel. Psyonix had released the original version of the game back in 2008, titled Supersonic Acrobatic Rocket-Powered Battle-Cars, to a pretty much unanimous cry of “meh”. Shitty title aside, the fact that they can work on the concept and come back seven years later to have it be such a massive success is quite astonishing, producing a game that, much like other indie games of its ilk, attempts to carve its own niche.

    What makes Rocket League such a great game is that it ties together and exaggerates the best elements of sports games in a unique package, yet remain appealing to those who totally loathe sports games. So many of my mates love EA FIFA games to death because of the camaraderie that comes with playing against or with each other (in spite of them being the same every bloody year), something which Rocket League tries to capture. Everyone has a story to tell of an epic last-minute goal, a desperate rush to defend their end, a well-timed tackle; in Rocket League, it’s go big or go home, with epic moments in almost every match. Fast cars and explosions go hand-in-hand, and they’ve never been more at home than in Rocket League; your reward for scoring is a huge explosion that blasts your car back across the field.

    The true test of any sports game, however, is simplicity—is it enjoyable for a wide audience; can you just pick it up and play? Rocket League’s controls are simple enough for pretty much anyone to figure out, but there is enough depth to the mechanics to make a number of playstyles possible. The total freedom of movement that the game gives to you means the best players must essentially play “total football”, being able to adapt to any situation. It is just as much fun, however, to just chase after the ball and give it all you’ve got with the power of your rocket booster behind you. Being in an enclosed arena with slightly unrealistic physics, you can even drive up the walls to try and gain an advantage—try doing that at Wednesday indoor football.

    The in-game progression system allows you to monitor your progress as you play more matches and acquire cool little trinkets and skins for your car, but this is largely cosmetic—nothing much really changes other than your increased personal skill, which cannot be easily measured in what is essentially a chaotic environment during matches. The cars are essentially all the same, and while this does make the playing field in multiplayer relatively level, it would be nice to see some variations in performance between different car types to make it more reflective of the different skills needed to succeed in actual football. That, though, is a minor bugbear in what is otherwise a well-balanced game.

    Rocket League is a simple idea executed strongly enough to warrant the massive attention it has been getting, and is almost guaranteed to be an addictive experience that will make you hungry for more. “One more match” is never going to be enough, and the banter will be off the charts. Or not, because banter is fucking silly.

    by

  • Mac DeMarco—Another One

    ★★★★

    The much loved vocalist from Vancouver, Mac DeMarco, announced earlier this year that he would be releasing a short album entitled Another One, and true to his word, he hasn’t disappointed.

    Following on from his 2014 album Salad Days, DeMarco has returned triumphantly with a similar sounding album, focusing heavily on lo-fi love ballads that ooze with the chill feels and undulating melodies that the Canuck is so well-known for.

    The album contains two standout tracks. “The Way You’d Love Her” opens the album with a groovy guitar piece and is backed by a simple drum line and soothing lyrics, warmly introducing the loved-up vibe of the album. “A Heart Like Hers” continues this theme, sounding like a distorted homage to DeMarco’s Barry Manilow B-side.

    One not-so-cool observation would be that DeMarco’s sound doesn’t seem to have matured or progressed all that much since Salad Days. Many of the riffs, including but not limited to “No Other Heart”, “I’ve Been Waiting For Her” and “Just To Put Me Down”, have the same poppy reverb with which Salad Days was riddled and sound like they could have come straight off of that album. These similarities continue with the instrumental outro “My House By The Water, a track that imitates in a more lo-fi fashion “Jonny’s Odyssey”, finishing with another send off message from Mac himself at the end of the album.

    That being said, the send off message has created some excellent stories since it first surfaced on the Internet a few weeks ago. Get this—DeMarco gives out his REAL LIFE HOME ADDRESS! 6802 Bayfield Ave, Arverne, New York. He even encourages people to “stop on by” for a cup of coffee. Think he’s bullshitting? Check the Reddit AMA created by the man himself a few weeks ago and get ready to jump onto the next flight over. A number of people (or “superfans”, as DeMarco has dubbed them) have even come forward to thank him for the “cup of coffee” and being a generally great human who stays true to his word. Just another reason to love the quirky, cheery, mad-talented Canadian.

    Despite the lack of variation between this album and his last, Mac DeMarco has brought his fans exactly what they wanted out of Another One—a creamy, loved-up, easy listening record, with plenty of soul and plenty of groovy vibes. Another One will be officially released August 7

    by

  • About the Author ()

    Salient is a magazine. Salient is a website. Salient is an institution founded in 1938 to cater to the whim and fancy of students of Victoria University. We are partly funded by VUWSA and partly by gold bullion that was discovered under a pile of old Salients from the 40's. Salient welcomes your participation in debate on all the issues that we present to you, and if you're a student of Victoria University then you're more than welcome to drop in and have tea and scones with the contributors of this little rag in our little hideaway that overlooks Wellington.

    Comments are closed.

    Recent posts

    1. An (im)possible dream: Living Wage for Vic Books
    2. Salient and VUW tussle over Official Information Act requests
    3. One Ocean
    4. Orphanage voluntourism a harmful exercise
    5. Interview with Grayson Gilmour
    6. Political Round Up
    7. A Town Like Alice — Nevil Shute
    8. Presidential Address
    9. Do You Ever Feel Like a Plastic Bag?
    10. Sport
    1

    Editor's Pick

    In Which a Boy Leaves

    : - SPONSORED - I’ve always been a fairly lucky kid. I essentially lucked out at birth, being born white, male, heterosexual, to a well off family. My life was never going to be particularly hard. And so my tale begins, with another stroke of sheer luck. After my girlfriend sugge