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REVIEW

The Punk and the Pathos
Don't touch that dial--Made for TV Movie's wiry white noise may be what everyone's talking about tomorrow.

BY JOHN GRAHAM
243-2122 ext 253


Made for TV Movie (CD release), Machine That Flashes
Meow Meow, 527 SE Pine St.,
230-2111
9 pm Friday,
Nov. 17
$5
All ages

In his memoir My World, Jeff Ott of punk-pop faves Fifteen states that one of the best ways to destroy a car is to let Dan DeVriend drive it.

The Story of My Heroics CD is available from Portland's Jealous Butcher Records.


CAST (in alphabetical order):

P.J. Aylward as The Drummer; Dan DeVriend as The Guitarist and Singer; Tanya Smith as The Bassist; and Robert Stack as The Narrator.

Narrator: Dateline: Portland, Oregon. A band plays, its music a shifting audio storm that spins from chiming reflection to twisting heat, pained howls and chain-sawing guitar chaos laced with razors of feedback. The Guitarist and Singer, a skeletal scarecrow of a fellow, paws at his instrument, punches buttons, stomps on pedals. To his right, a brunette plucks her bass with stony resolve, reeling out thick cables of sound to lasso the noise, keep it from stampeding into a formless void. In the background, a half-hidden drummer alternates between slow-march rattles, quick-tempered fills and triumphant hammering.

This is Made for TV Movie. Like their namesake film genre, they're something familiar, yet subtly warped. The kind of slightly unsettling display that, each time you think of looking away, demands your attention with a quick plot twist or brazenly manipulated hook.

CUT: Close-up of The Guitarist and Singer.

The Guitarist: "A made-for-TV movie is always very wholesome. But there's a weird, dark undercurrent of strangeness, like Partridge Family strangeness, where it's all very nice--but I bet the dad's molesting his daughter."

Narrator: This same elliptical reasoning behind Made For TV Movie's name seems to power its slanted, emotional post-punk exorcism. Song meanings are elusive, hidden amid obtuse lyrical phrasings. A latent sense of loss haunts the atmosphere.

The Guitarist: "If I try to write something topical, it's just a complete failure--my mind doesn't work that way."

Narrator: Fortunately, Made for TV Movie's other (rejected) choices for moniker indicate its lighter side. The Carter Years, for example, was skipped for being "too political." They also wisely opted to drop Kum Kleen and Lucky Pierre from the roster of potential names (too many website hits from icky swinger types). And the acronymic version, MFTVM, led to inevitable KMFDM comparisons.

The Drummer: "That was never acceptable."

Narrator: While he may not be a fan of KMFDM's brand of repetitive disco thrash, the Guitarist does play a sampler--albeit an archaic, taped-up Casio SK-1 toy keyboard balanced atop his Marshall, which he uses to record riffs and loop the lo-fi buzz back into the system for maximum damage.

The Guitarist: "I like electronics. I like not being a regular guitar player who solos. That's not my goal. Ever. At all. I'd rather explore different things that the guitar can do.... The next band I'm in, I don't want to sing. It's distracting. I'd rather hit buttons and play guitar."

Narrator: He's been around long enough to know. The Guitarist logged five years and countless miles as singer for screaming emopunks Bisybackson, fueling his desire to escape the spotlight--though not until he's clicked off a few more road trips with Made for TV Movie. The band, though a mere few months in existence, has already tested itself on a blitzkrieg tour, complete with a surreal "toxic waste accident" horror story involving some real Gary glitter.

CUT: View of speeding Ford Econoline shot through soft-focus "flashback" lens.

Narrator: Made For TV Movie careens across the heartland--near Gary, Indiana, to be precise. A seemingly innocent can of aluminum oxide, an abrasive metallic powder used for screen printing, rolls around in the loft compartment of the band's van.

The Guitarist (voiceover): "All of a sudden there's this magical silver cloud floating through the van. The fucking canister had broken open and spilled everywhere. And the van leaks tons of air, so it was circulating."

The Bassist: "It coated every inch of the van. So then we read the can and it said: Avoid contact with skin. You know: Wash immediately. Dan looked like the tin man."

The Guitarist: "I was silver, completely silver. So we walk into this KFC in Gary, Indiana, and ask to use their bathroom, covered in silver."

Narrator: And you thought your war stories were weird. Theirs are straight out of L. Frank Baum. But with a name like Made for TV Movie, one can be sure everything turned out OK in the end--no tumors or brain defects. Yet.

The Bassist: "We did actually use the dye we had left to make T-shirts.... Though I'm sure in 10 years it'll creep up on us...."

FREEZE-FRAME of The Bassist in mid-laugh. Fade to Negative with Sinister Caption: To Be Continued...?

ROLL CREDITS.

 

 

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