Overheard

"It's funny, I call all dogs puppies"

That's not funny. It's just incorrect.

Watch The Throne Mini Documentary

Kanye West & Jay-Z: Watch The Throne Documentary from introspective on Vimeo.

Swag.

Inspirational Quote of the Week

I don't know what it means to quite rap but it sounds exciting!!

But seriously though Waka, you promise?

Pigalle Spring/Summer 2012

I always wanted a hunting hat like the one Holden Caufield wears in Catcher and the Rye. Fortunately for me, while in Paris, Sam and I stumbled upon Pigalle, a Parisian brand that, on top of an impressive Cut & Sew line, has an outstanding hat collection. Needless to say, I now have a hunting hat.

Today we can give you a look at Pigalle's upcoming (upcoming being a year from now) Spring/Summer '12 line. With the apparel part of the line scaled back to just pants, vests, and blazers, all in matching colors, their headwear production has really taken off. This upcoming season features wool, leather, and straw hats, some with – now, get this – corduroy lining! Real cool.

Check out some additional photos after the jump, and if you happen to be in Paris, make sure you check out Pigalle.

Jam of the Weekend

Without any warning or promotion, Blu dropped a new LP entitled J E S U S. With production from Blu himself, as well as Madlib, 9th Wonder, and Alchemist, the album is a real gem, and sounds like a mixtape in the best way possible. This project perhaps is intended to keep fans satisfied until his Warner debut, No York, drops. Regardless, take a listen to track seven, entitled, "4u", and go pick up the whole album today. Enjoy.

Jam of the Week

Here's another track from Kendrick Lamar's new release, Section 80. Seriously, get this album. Lookout for a full album review next week. Enjoy.

Confirmed "Watch The Throne" Cover

According to the always credible folks over at MediatTakeOut, this is rumored to be the cover art for Kanye West and Jay-Z's Watch The Throne, whenever it is in fact released. The mandala-style graphic is reminiscent of the "H.A.M." cover, giving this rumor a bit of legitimacy, but then again it's from MediaTakeOut so any potential for legitimacy is null. Also according to MediaTakeOut, the cover will be, "Made out of metal..." We'll see about that.

Still no word on an actual release date. We'll keep you posted.


UPDATE: Ryan Seacrest is also “reporting” that we will be getting a new single mid July with the album looking at an August release (with a tour to follow).


UPDATE #2: For once MediaTakeOut gets it right as we can now confirm via tweet from Kanye himself that this is indeed going to be the album cover. It is also now confirmed that Watch the Throne will contain ten tracks, with the deluxe edition supporting an extra four. Pre-order the album here.

Jam of the Week

This week's jam, "HiiiPoWeR", is the first single from Kendrick Lamar's new album, Section 80, which drops tomorrow. The song's great, the album is sure to be great, make sure you check it out. Enjoy.

Special Edition Report: "Fore!" by Larry David

Now, don't get too excited, Larry David did not actually contribute a guest post to Old School Movie. I know, I know, imagine if he did! Seriously, imagine that. "Fore!" is a piece that David recently published in the Shouts & Murmurs section of The New Yorker. It's just, you know, Larry David is such a magnificent figure in the world of Old School Movie, and in the world of Max Schieble, such a prominent idol, that I wanted, if just for a moment, to pretend that he was a fan of the blog and felt the need to contribute a piece of his own. Is that such a crime? Is that so abhorrent, so detestable, so—never mind. Enjoy the incredible word of Mr. David below.

"Fore!"

On the par-3, 175-yard fourteenth hole at Riviera, I hit my tee shot a mere ninety yards and a physics-defying thirty degrees to the right—almost sideways. It’s a miracle I got my right leg out of the way, or I could have shattered it with the club. As I walked to the ball, I remarked to my friend that after seventeen years of playing this course I’d never seen someone hit a ball anywhere near where mine ended up. He had never seen it, either. “What’s more,” I said, “I couldn’t care less.” My friend was taken aback. But I meant it. I didn’t care, and I didn’t particularly care about the next shot, either. I felt liberated, not unlike the way I felt when my wife left me, except this time I didn’t take up skipping.

Finally, after years of pain and struggle, I had accepted the fact that I would neverbe a good golfer. No matter how many hours I practiced, no matter how many instructors I saw, how many books and magazines I read, or how many teaching aids I tried. Then it hit me. According to Dr. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s book “On Death and Dying,” Acceptance was the final stage of grief that terminal patients experience before dying, the others being Anger, Denial, Bargaining, and Depression. I was in the final stage! When I started thinking about it, I realized that I’d gone through every one of those stages, but not as a terminal patient . . . as a golfer.

My first stage: Anger. There was a time when I was always angry on the course. Driving fast in the cart. Throwing clubs. Constantly berating myself. “You stink, four-eyes! You stink at everything. You can’t even open a bottle of wine! You can’t swipe a credit card at the drugstore! You can’t swipe. And you’ve never even been to the Guggenheim. The Guggenheim! And call your parents, you selfish bastard!” Then I’d walk off the course and vow never to play again, only to return the following week for more of the same. I hardly ever finished a round. Once, I bought a brand-new set of clubs, and then, after a particularly terrible day, I gave them to the caddy at the sixteenth hole and left.

The Anger phase lasted for years, and then I entered the next phase, Denial. “All I need are some lessons,” I told myself. “Why should everyone else be able to do it and not me? Why are they good? I’m coördinated. I have a jump shot! I can go to my left. Obviously I have it in me. I have it in me! Next year, I’ll go to Orlando and spend a week taking lessons with Leadbetter. I don’t care what it costs. How can you spend a week with Leadbetter and not get better? It’s impossible.” But I did, and I didn’t.

The third stage was Bargaining, and I did my share of that. “Please, God. All I want to do is hit the ball. What is it You want? Good deeds? Give me a swing and I’ll give You good deeds up the wazoo. I’ll help sick kids, the homeless . . . well, sick kids. I’ll stop all the mocking. I’ll give up cookies, coffee, coffee cake, cashmere. I’ll go to temple. Is that what You want? Temple? Done! Can I bring my BlackBerry? O.K., no BlackBerry, I promise! Just let me hit the ball! What do You care?” He didn’t. What kind of God won’t let me hit the ball? What did I ever do to Him? He took my hair, I didn’t complain. I joked about it! I was a model bald man. Was it the TV show? Did He not like the show? Too mean? I’ll make it nicer! I can be nice. “Tell You what—I’ll visit my parents in Florida three times next year. That’s right, You heard me. Three times! . . . Did I say three? Three’s crazy. No one can survive three trips down there. It’s suicide. Let’s make it two. What do You say? Two trips to Florida! I’m only human!” And, by the way, I wasn’t even asking to hit every shot. Or even every other shot. Or even everythird shot. I said, “God, let me hit the ball every fourth shot and I’ll be happy.” Every fourth shot! But He didn’t. He wouldn’t. He won’t.

Then I drifted into the next stage, Depression. I was never going to be good. Never. Think what I could’ve done with all that time. Learned French. Piano. I’d be playing Chopin now if it weren’t for golf. Playing Chopin for Julie Delpy. But instead I wasted my life on this game. It looked so easy. The ball just sits there. Any idiot could do it. But every instinct I had was wrong. You’re supposed to hit the ball down to make it go up. That’s absurd. I want to hit it up to make it go up. When I try to hit down, it’s like I’m splitting a log with an axe. All I do is chop up the course. And then there’s this one: the easier you swing, the farther the ball goes. How can that be? So you hit down to make it go up and swing easy to make it go far?

And now I find myself in the final stage, Acceptance. I will never be good. There, I said it. I like saying it. I’ll say it again: I’ll never be good. It’s just not something I’m suited for. That’s O.K. I’m good at other things. What those are I have no idea. But I’m sure there are some. Flossing and dishwashing come to mind. Getting people I can’t stand to like me is another. But golf ? No. I will never stand over the ball without considering the disaster about to befall me. I’ll never line up a putt and think I’ll make it. Never face a chip without fearing the decel. And yet I’ll continue to play, because I do hit some good shots, especially when I’m on the driving range. I actually hit some great range shots. What the hell is that? I’ve had swing compliments on the range. “I love your tempo,” a woman once said to me. That’s right—I have good tempo. I’ve had many other range compliments that I won’t bore you with, but, believe me, I’m an eight or a nine on the range. So it’s clearly psychological. I wonder . . . what if I blindfolded myself ? Is it possible?! Have I stumbled upon the Secret? It makes sense. The reason I can’t hit the ball is that I can see it! Tomorrow I’m going to play blindfolded, and if that doesn’t work then I’ll definitely and unequivocally accept Acceptance. I just want to try this blindfold idea. I have a very good feeling about it. Very good.

Overheard

"Let's play catch the Teddy Bear!"

I'm gonna be honest with you, that sounds like a horrible game.