Featuring former DNA drummer Ikue Mori on drum machines, the guitars of punk savant Robert Quine and downtown NYC journeyman Marc Ribot, and the production of post-everything avant-garde impresario John Zorn, one might expect some kind of no wave splatterfest from this mid-90s joint. But Painted Desert is nothing of the sort. Instead, we have one of the missing links in the evolution of ambient country, an astonishing melding of skeletal machine rhythms and big sky guitars.
Videodrome :: Lucky Three (1997)
For fans of Elliott Smith, watching Lucky Three feels like visiting with an old friend that you haven’t seen in a while, all the while knowing that they’re going to leave you again, all too soon, and without saying goodbye. True to Jem Cohen’s filmmaking style, Lucky Three is neither a performance film nor a documentary. Its interest is not in narrative nor editorialization. If anything, Lucky Three is an intimate portraiture of Smith simply being, existing in his natural habitat of Portland’s late-autumn charcoal skies and rainy streets.













