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10 Things I Hate About You was an adaptation of The Taming of the Shrew.
You might be thinking of She’s the Man?
And My Own Private Idaho was, I think, a multi-source adaptation of Henry IV, Henry IV 2: Die Henrier, and Live V or Die Henry.
10 Things I Hate About You was an adaptation of The Taming of the Shrew.
You might be thinking of She’s the Man?
And My Own Private Idaho was, I think, a multi-source adaptation of Henry IV, Henry IV 2: Die Henrier, and Live V or Die Henry.
A cosmic gumbo, kinda moves to the beat of jazz
Oh, so it’s really all about girth!
I find it hard to take seriously anyone who throws the term FUD around with no sense of irony.
Sensationalist journalism. This manifests as clickbait headlines, agenda pieces, and other such tactics.
Blackberry jam is my go-to
Why are you cutting a 2x4 with a hacksaw?
That’s a big reaction for a tongue-in-cheek comment on an unpopular opinion post! Joe, is that you? I’m sorry they used Steve in Crossroads instead of you, but you gotta let it go! Sometimes the student becomes the teacher!
Joking aside, the whole “soul” thing can be seen as somewhat of a compliment in a sense. Blackmore, Yngwie, Satch, Petrucci, Vai, Johnson, and other neoclassical players strove for technical perfection. The bits and bobs of music that are generally lumped into the idea of “soul” are the mistakes, the imperfections, the unintended, the miniscule fuckups. As an off the top example, think of Merry Clayton’s voice cracking as she belted out a vocal masterwork in her pajamas and curlers after being dragged out of bed at midnight to back up Mick Jagger. It’s imperfect, it’s unrepeatable, and it’s amazing.
Contrast that with what the technical shredders were intending to do: they wanted to hit every note with exacting precision every time they played. It’s no less impressive than those one-off moments like Gimme Shelter, but it’s markedly different. Listeners who don’t identify with the sound sometimes perceive a sort of sterility in the style, whether deserved or not. The degree of technicality alone can almost come across as machine-like. That doesn’t mean that it has no merit, or that anyone who feels it deeply is in some way “defective”. These guys wouldn’t have had 40+ year careers if nobody was feeling what they were doing.
Enjoy what you enjoy, groove to what grooves you, and above all else, be secure enough in your own taste that a bit of banter about a genre doesn’t seem like a personal attack. Remember: Barry Manilow has sold over 85 million albums, so there really is a market for everything!
Through the magic of buying two of them.
No? Well…
For me, that description fits Yngwie more than Satriani. Satch had at least 1%, maybe even a whopping 2% soul. Vai is probably sneaking up on double digits.
I like the list, but there’s a disturbing lack of Steve Earle.
It does not live up to that premise…
I’m pretty sure you’re right, that’s the one that came to mind for me.
Any system capable of countering a determined attempt to spread misinformation would by design attach penalties to such lies, and those penalties would be enforced on the liars. What successful fix could even be proposed that withholds blame?
I recently found Clearly Canadian in a grocery store and bought one on a whim. It tasted the way I remembered it.
Probably when measures that genuinely protect the right to repair are enacted on a wide scale.
A pop-tart