Deviated Septum

YouTube - Upsilon Acrux

2007-09-03T01:30:00.000-06:00

2007-07-26T22:42:00.000-06:00

Not So Black and White

Speaking of understatements of the year, the meandering and subtly pummeling guitar solo in Rwake's "Inverted Overtures" is hardly worth mentioning to your wine-drinking friends. But it ought to earn you huge kudos among neighborhood Oprah watchers when you inappropriately blurt out, "'Voices of Omens' is the greatest doom metal offering to come out of Arkansas in coon's age!" during the next "Book Club" get-together.

Which reminds me, there are these three fat, bald, Real Estate guys who "work out" at my gym (yes, I own a gym now). Typically, they're rolling the so-called executive workout: a leisurely bike ride with a twice-as-long hot tub soak. They chat amongst themselves, in hushed E.F. Hutton-like tones, such micro-wisdoms as:

"Profundi's 'Omega Rising' cements Jens Ryden's reputation as a man among boys in the black metal genre.

"On a different note, Sinoia Caves' 'Naro Way' might be the most breathtakingly beautiful two minutes and thirty-six seconds of music I've heard in the last year. If it were any longer, it'd be too much.

"The new Kylesa and Cellador records will certainly scratch your power metal itch, but why bother when you've got 'Piece of Mind' and 'Number' in your collection. Even last year's surprisingly strong 'Matter of Life and Death' knocks socks off of those comparative johnny-come-homage offerings."

No, they really do say this stuff. I should know. I make it my daily task to eavesdrop on sweaty people.

And my broker says...

He was stopped at a red light in downtown Denver behind a cop car, and he witnessed a black man strolling up the sidewalk to cross the street in front of him:

"The guy had a nice, almost joyous, lilt to his step until he looked up and saw the cop. And when they say Randall Cunningham used to throw frozen ropes, Kev, what I saw, at that very instant, was the act of a rope flash-freezing before my eyes.

"Where that man's spine was the rope.

"The vocabulary of body language contains expression greater than words.

"It was as if the man instantly realized, upon spotting the cop, that he had something to hide. And you know what, Kev? He did. His skin color.

"But don't take my word for it, there's all sorts of studies on the shit. Google it sometime. The mind fucking reels. Even NBA refs whistle the brothers more often than white guys.

"Speaking of which, how about that ref that got caught fixing games?"

I was calling to put a couple K on AAPL. Only in the time it took my rep to relay his little anecdote, the price shot up another 8% on sick iPhone revenues and I missed my window yet again.

2007-07-16T22:24:00.000-06:00

ouchbadge69

I'm likely late to this party, but what's with the proliferation of "Intro" tracks these days? It's like indie rock just discovered 90s hip hop.

And speaking of things so last week, what about the Wholefoods CEO posting on his company's Yahoo message board? Bagging on his comp with such classic boardroom put downs like, "Yeah but, he's got tiny stores!" Presumably in his spare time. A CEO. I thought those guys were busy. I don't even have time to post fairly pat observations like this more than once or twice a week, let alone run a fucking company. Anyway...

Speaking of so last year, have we talked about my positive outlook on Kampfar's "Kvass" yet? I'm very bullish on their prospects to show significant positive returns in a negative burn-down-your-house-of-worship sort of way for the next few quarters in my ipod. While not proprietary, Kampfar's technology, specifically of the information variety, bolstered by strong human capital, very experienced and highly skilled in areas relative to industry "best practices", gives them a strategic advantage over their competition in the black metal marketplace.

Full disclosure: I like to play with matches and I'm a part-time vegan.

Check me out on the Kammerflimmer Kollektief (KMFL) board later for my insight into their long-term volume and gain prospects.

2007-07-03T16:47:00.000-06:00

A Stunning Tapestry of Justice*

[* - As my malapropism-proficient friend would likely put this, our shared travesty. The aforementioned hyphenated term, qualifier of "friend", which, in and of itself, seems like an oxymoron as in, "How could one be proficient in the use of something seemingly accidental, unless one were, say, Yogi Berra?" But therein lies the genius, if you will, that it is not because of the propensity to use malaprops creatively and seemingly unintentionally it is rather, and at least partially, a consistent happy accident. Though, once again, I digress...]

Somehow, loading up Car Bomb's "Centralia" on my ipod seems fitting right now. So what if it falls into that hyper technical mathcore trap of samey-ness? At times, it's the kind of stuff that'll make you say, "The Blood Brothers?" Though, it's only fair I finally offer a mea culpa of sorts on the Brothers. It may have taken me four years to get over my screamo-vocals hangup with them, but I think I'm finally willing to offer grudging respect. Ups to "Young Machetes" on that front then.

Speaking of wielding swords and not offering mea culpas...

Well now, he's gone and done it for you; the Lord President's gotten Scooter Libby out of the can just in time for him to make your kick ass Fourth of July barbecue tomorrow. And not a moment too-fucking-soon as someone's gotta pop for that bottle of Louis XIII you promised your Bimmer-owning neighbor. So if that just doesn't put a shit-covered cherry on top of this the most vile and utterly criminal White House in the history of the Union, then dropping bombs on Iran surely will. Keep your DishTV's tuned to the Emergency Fox News Management System for further details...

In the meantime, and if you haven't already burned your CDRs, here are a half a dozen or so perhaps subtler cuts to blend into your otherwise angst-filled Public Enemy, Rage Against the Machine and Bob Dylan-flecked Independence Day mixtapes:

Thom Yorke - Atoms for Peace
Circle Jerks - Deny Everything
Rivulets - Happy Ending
Minutemen - Theatre is the Life of You
Godspeed You Black Emperor - The Dead Flag Blues
John Vanderslice - Off the Grid
The Clash - White Riot
Slint - Good Morning, Captain

2007-06-29T11:37:00.000-06:00

But the Market Shall Police Itself

Our white, decrepit, conservative friends at the Supreme Court are at it again. And, yes I realize that, technically speaking, Clarence Uncle Tom Thomas is a black man, but just don't tip him off to that fact. (See Orlando Patterson's review of the recently-released account of the Judge's vampire-mirror pathology for further instruction.) In yesterday's ruling taking down public school integration, the usual fucking suspects effectively spun back the clock on race progress in this country by about 50 years to that glorious Leave It to Beaver time in America where homogeneity was king. Won't be long now before The Authorities will be dusting off and rolling out the old firehoses.

Hello Elvis, Buddy, and Bill! Hello "Colored" drinking fountains! And, hello, to you David Byrne's "(Nothing But) Flowers" drifting from my car stereo speakers this morning...

This was a Pizza Hut, Now it's all covered with daisies...

Okay, tell you what, Rich White Guys, I'll make you a deal on behalf of the rest of us: I'll let you turn back the clock on race, civil liberties, and keeping "fags" in the closet, if we can have our fucking livelihoods back. Gone are big box stores, incremental margin increases at the expense of poverty-level America, and cheap fucking Made in Chinese sweatshop shit that breaks within two and a half minutes of opening. Making a comeback are Mom and Pop, quality over the bottom line, some sort of minimum level of actual democratization of the marketplace and, oh yeah... daisies.

''So few,'' [Justice Stephen] Breyer said, ''have so quickly changed so much.''

And yet, even as things change, for oh so many, they still remain the same. Dalek humps into my headphones this morning:

Six hundred years, ain't a fucking thing different.

And it's beyond-words fitting a message for this dark day, so close to the Fourth of July. Quick, somebody ask that cunt Peggy Noonan if this means it's dusk in America.

While you're at it then, too, ask the record companies how well the market polices itself. As the remains of their dank business model whisper in mildewed tatters, do you think for even a second Sony might consider anything other than raising CD prices in a desperate attempt to bleed dry the six remaining record-buyers left in the world? Maybe EMI can find 8-year-old Chinese musicians to become their new "artists" and Yousendit their songs straight to the nearest Best Buy for covering in a high-gloss photo of a slutty, half-clothed, anonymous preteen clone, for your instant consumption. And when that doesn't work, whatever handful of customers remain after having died of toxic toothpaste, unsafe steel-belted radials, and tainted petfood tainted chicken, will finally get the pleasure of a $5 album and nickel-a-song downloads for life!

2007-06-28T22:35:00.000-06:00

Meanwhile A Guitar Gently Weeps

There's that thing about the cello being the instrument which most resembles the human voice. And then there are the sounds that Alison Chesley's getting out of it. And it shall be a sweet diversion from the Larry Manzanares story here in Denver, which I can't seem to shake.

Today's Denver Post cover story certainly didn't help matters.

The real fucking tragedy here, and it won't be the last one like this, is that this seemingly large-hearted man was tried and convicted in the press before he was afforded his due process. Unfortunately, Larry imposed his own sentence last week: a bullet to the head. Over a stolen laptop fucking computer.

Have the blogs really put so much pressure on the fishwrap and radiowave press corps that they have to resort to feeding-frenzy levels of hype to compete? I mean really. What, the fucking Paris Hilton story hasn't been tantalizing enough?

Again, what does this have to do with the subject at hand, and cellos at that? Seems Larry was a bit of an amateur luthier. That, and the fact that I'm utterly amazed his wife and brother could even bring themselves to speak to the same press that dragged the poor man to his death. As they say in 12-step programs all over the country, "You're a much stronger man than I".

There's also a juxtaposition that, if I believed some sort of "there is no such thing as coincidence" mental midgetry, might cause me to chuck it all and join the nearest god squad. (Luckily, however, I have intellectually and emotionally developed beyond the age of twelve, so there's no chance of that happening.) And today while, ironically, listening to "Year Zero" (I pushed a button and elected him to office...), I'm getting stimulation-overloaded with the President whining on CNN about his lost shot at an immigration reform "legacy", and mulling over Poor Larry, it occurs to me that if our Dipshit-in-Chief had even a fleck of conscience rather than a Tin Man-like abyss where a heart should be, he might have long ago done the same, out of shame. But have they, these "men" of power, no shame indeed. Could one have achieved such "great" levels of ambition and power if there existed an ounce of ignominy within? Possible, but doubtful given the evidence.

And there too lies Kurt Cobain.

2007-06-27T18:15:00.000-06:00

In a Basement Bedroom Where Sons Don't Peek

While we're speaking of black metal, someone needs to go on record about the new Blut Aus Nord. Especially if you're one of those few, like me, who aren't quite "neck deep" in one-man-band bleakness just yet. The moniker, roughly translated from the French, means: "Norse Black Flag". Specifically, "Mort" is like a black metal version of instrumental, late period Flag. Seriously. Or I'm hearing shit. Which wouldn't be anything new either.

Which reminds me, I finally saw "American Hardcore" the other night. And, well duh, of course it was hard nipples. Even if you didn't read the Steve Blush book, you'll find the DVD version just as maddeningly incomplete as the softcover. But what could you expect in a tight 90 minutes? And, so, it's safe to say that Rollins-era Flag came out smelling like a fuck-you-skins-long-haired, tatted rose. Which is all right by me, since that's the era I grew up with. In other words, I'm not ashamed to say I only discovered the Keith Morris stuff (and Chavo and Dez) later. To me, Morris was the Circle Jerks' frontman; and what a dumbass look I had on my face when I realized different.

So, and yes, it can be argued that Keith and Ron and Dez had some fine chops and as far as hardcore goes, it's tough to beat "Jealous Again" and "Nervous Breakdown". But let's face facts, Black Flag didn't hit their stride until Rollins came on board and "Damaged" was laid down. I certainly won't begrudge you if you'll claim they got winded pretty quickly thereafter and I don't mind admitting that I came at those early singles and EPs from a backward drift. I mean, shit, do I have to have been Damo-Suzuki-hair-sweat close to wax philosophic about "Ege Bamayasi"? Of course I wasn't there! But, now, were you?

As in You:

I saw a pre-Panic rehearsal in 1976, before Morris joined the band, where Ginn's cat meowed into a mic for a half an hour. Brilliant! Anything post-Reyes, Dud. F Rollins, he's a self-promoter.

Ginn's cat-fronted band > Panic > Anyone Not Rollins > Damaged

Hey You, you're losing, you're losing, you're losing, your Vitamin C...

2007-06-25T10:59:00.000-06:00

Bird Songs, Rustling Trees, Bent in a Kiln-Like Wind, Over 90 Degrees

Last week came word that the Supreme Court, again, severely limited the right of Americans to hold Wall Street accountable for anything. And while we can bemoan the fact the George Bush's Supreme Court may do horrendous things to a woman's right to choose eventually, we'd be parsing a subject which affects, what, a couple of hundred citizens a year? Don't get me wrong, I'm firmly in the choice camp on this one. But, after all, isn't this just the kind of smokescreen the Boardroom Fat Cats want us all distracted by while they continue to gobble up even the sparest of change falling through the holes in the pockets of your well-worn dungarees? Not that you could afford new ones, even if you prioritized them above 99¢ cheeseburgers, petrol for your Pacer, or Da Capo best-ofs.

And so then, isn't what this was really all about anyway? Stacking the court with pro-biz whores like Roberts and Alito means you can expect more Ledbetter v. Goodyear decisions in the future, though nobody will be marching on Washington over it. While the rest of you may split hairs over when life begins, I'll be over here in the corner pointing out exactly when it ends: the moment you get chewed up into the gears of the Capitalist machinery and become known as "consumer", "employee", and both.

In the meantime, I'll take umbrage in Trent Reznor's latest work and RTX's new "Western Xterminator". (Damn you Believer Mag for cursing my mind to pour over the Catholic allegories in the Nine Inch Nails catalog!) So what if the hessians want to bicker about what constitutes "true metal"? Herrema's got me headbangin' like she's conjuring Maiden or Triumph and what does it matter whether she's bringing it from the indie hinterlands or from on top of a Columbia Records-financed monitor at Castle Donington? Can't we all agree that in music, as in art, the end justifies the means? (Even if the equation rarely holds true elsewhere. See: aforementioned business discussion.)

So it's currently and quite nearly impossible to escape All Jack, All the Time while Mr. White does his "Icky Thump" stump. But I'd like to go on record as stating, though I've got nothing against the piano, I'm glad Jack's got his axe back. Now, if you don't mind, I'll take a pass and let others conjure comparisons to Zeppelin-esque past triumphs such as "De Stijl" and "Elephant".

And if we're going to be splitting hairs, then, why not argue all day long about something like "Ride the Lightning" v. "Master"? Either way, there's no sense to it, since you'll both be right and, besides, the point is moot what with cost of memory so low these days.

2007-06-21T16:28:00.000-06:00

15 Minutes A Day. And It Shows.

[ed. Insert riff here about needing another creative outlet, releasing the din that hums between the ears, having something to say, and so we're taking another stab at it, etc.]

So I'm reading this joint ("The Prison Poets of Guantanamo Find a Publisher") in the WSJ yesterday (just the "Journal", ya know) and it's a nice enough story, adding more fuel to that =what the fuck fascist regime do we live under= V8 that still howls, but here's the part that turns the crankshaft at higher rpms:

"While a few detainees at Guantanamo Bay have made efforts to author what they claim to be poetry, given the nature of their writings they have seemingly not done so for the sake of art," says Cmdr. J.D. Gordon, a Defense Department spokesman.

What? "No comment" would've been too fucking classy for the DoD? Likely. What a fucking prick. Even if -- and, yes, some of the examples cited in the column won't make you forget Yeats any time soon -- the poetry sucks, what task is served by a Defense spokesman "lowering" himself to the level of our "enemy combatants"? The comment is illustrative of the type of smug fratboy pettiness emanating from our nation's capital like someone left the water in the bong all summer break and now it's been kicked over and drips down into the pages of the Washington Post and studios of CNN.

But what does this have to do with music? Well, Commander Fuckstick's attempt at crit aside, some of the poetry samples therein speak of the songs of birds. Which, serendipitously, I had just been thinking of a day earlier thanks to musicthing's nod to Captain Beefheart's 10 Commandments for Guitarists:

1. LISTEN TO THE BIRDS That's where all the music comes from. Birds know everything about how it should sound and where that sound should come from. And watch hummingbirds. They fly really fast, but a lot of times they aren't going anywhere.

Which dovetails (cough) nicely back to music, "the Journal", Guantanamo, thick-necked dimbulb Bushies, and fascism. I think the Capt. has a point. Lately, [ed. Don't go into protracted melancholia about taking time to smell flowers, listen to birds, bullshit, nobody will want to hear it] I've been listening to a lot of black metal and it seems if one were to pull out their Encyclopeadia Metallum, they'd probably find that nature plays a heavy role in the thing. Or maybe I just stole that from Stosuy. Either way, it's true; even if it is hard to describe to your indie pop pals.

Wolves in the Throne Room's "Diadem of 12 Stars" may not have any birds chirping on it (then again, it may -- who am I to instruct what to take away from your experience?), but it puts me squarely in and of one with nature and all that [ed. Please be careful not to veer too far down hippie path here]. To say that it sounds exactly like standing in a clearing, subfreezing, grey and fogged in, with snow falling all around you would be to invoke Agalloch's "Ashes Against the Grain", actually, but wouldn't necessarily be far off. Did I mention they're from the Pacific Northwest? (Yeah, Agalloch too.)

There's that. And there's what Joe Baiza's been up to; according to the Beefheart blog (linked on musicthing), tossing out a rendition of "Lick My Decals Off, Baby" in Puttanesca (myspace link complete with vid).

Now back to what the birds are trying to tell me...

2007-06-18T13:35:00.001-06:00

Snippets of new Radiohead on Youtube
So, yeah.

2006-10-13T21:59:00.000-06:00

Hell's Eulogy

Read Richard Hell's fine op ed on CBGB's end of days. I'm still grappling with the piece's conclusion regarding the seminal club's permanent exhibition in Vegas. But who am I to to wave my finger and shout blasphemy? I'm going to defer to Mr. Hell, as I wasn't there then, and bein's how I'm couchbound on a Friday night in Denver I clearly never will be.

CBGB’s was like a big playhouse, site of conspiracies, orgies, delirium, refuge, boredom, meanness, jealousy, kindness, but most of all youth. Things felt and done the first time are more vivid. CBGB’s is where many things were felt with that vividness. That feeling is the real identity of the club, to me. And it’s horrible, or at least seriously sad, to lose it. But then, apparently, we aren’t really going to lose it.

CBGB’s is going to be dismantled and reconstructed as an exhibit in Las Vegas, like Elvis. I like that. A lot. I really hope it happens as intended.

And at this moment, as I try to find a conclusion to this piece, the well used refrain from "Blitzkrieg Bop" trax the stats at the end of tonight's Mets/Cardinals game. There's either a joke or seeds of a rant in there somewhere...

2006-10-03T22:19:00.000-06:00

"It's quite gratifying to realize you were smarter than all the people who were telling you you were gonna fail."

Albini talks new Shellac, T&G, Electrical Audio, and recording the new Stooges record...

One rumor that's been following the project is that Jack White will play on the disc or produce it, but Albini has heard nothing either way. "I really have no idea. . . . There may be a point where an Edwardian carriage pulls up in front of the studio and Jack White and his footmen step out," he says. "By the way, I've never used the word 'footmen' in conversation before."

Chicago Reader interview

2006-08-21T22:37:00.000-06:00

Speaking of troubling, I just read about this...

Now the Music Industry Wants Guitarists to Stop Sharing

Where the hell am I going to go for my unreliable -- and unmastered -- guitar tabs? No, seriously, this blows.

2006-08-21T22:31:00.000-06:00

WWJD

In these troubling theocratic times (e.g.) I take comfort in the words of the Kennedys:

All religions make me wanna throw up / All religions make me sick / All religions make me wanna throw up / All religions suck / They all claim that they have the truth / They’ll set you free / Just give ‘em money and they’ll set you free / Free for a fee / They claim that they have “the Answer” / When they don’t even know the Question / They’re just a bunch of liars / They just want your money / They just want your consciousness / (Chorus) / All religions suck / All religions make me wanna throw up / All religions suck / All religions make me wanna BLEAH / They really make me sick / They really make me sick / They really make me sick / They really make me sick / They really make me sick / They really make me ILL

2006-08-10T13:44:00.000-06:00

Genealogy of Pop and Rock Music

Oh I totally want this.
Be sure to check out the other posters too. They're amazing.

Johnny Marr joins Modest Mouse

2006-08-08T14:40:00.000-06:00

Okay, cool. How'd I miss this last week?

http://pitchforkmedia.com...

Noxagt - Noxagt (2006)

2006-08-08T14:27:00.000-06:00

A little bit like a lyricless, doomed up Jesus Lizard. Or, how about that rhythm section...

(aka Where Have all the Violas Gone?)

2006-07-22T14:29:00.000-06:00

volcano! "Beautiful Seizure" is pretty much the hottest thing going right now. (more later...)

myspace
website
radio sess

2006-07-22T01:10:00.000-06:00

Fuck yeah! \m/

Iron Maiden frontman, Bruce Dickinson, airlifts hundreds of countrymen to safety

2006-07-18T23:14:00.000-06:00

Where have all the good times gone? The Graying of the Record Store

The answer is known. Can't say I don't already miss the local shop, though. Reminds me of my college days in Champaign-Urbana, getting vibed by Rick Sims of the Didjits, who clerked at the Record Swap in Champaign, for what he perceived to be my lame music purchases. It was as subtle as an eye-roll, but we've surely all been there. It just hurt that much more coming from the local rock god.

(P.S. This should lead into a segue of the Touch & Go Recs anniversary bash...)

2006-07-18T16:14:00.000-06:00

There's a very engaging interview with Greg Dulli in this week's Onion.

2006-07-11T23:20:00.000-06:00

A few new tracks worth listening to/talking about:

Mastodon, "Crystal Skull" (windows media) - also streaming here - To say the new album "Blood Mountain" sounds very promising based on this cut, is to be understated.

Squarepusher (streaming on the Warp homepage) - This has been mentioned elsewhere as more of a "Go Plastic" drum-n-bass single (i.e. "My Red Hot Car") than an "Ultravisitor" synthesis offering. So, I can't argue with it. New lp's called "Hello Everything".

Mars Volta, "Viscera Eyes" - Don't like the wank? Tough. The new lp's called "Amputechture" and the Frusch adds his chops to the mix.

(via: everywhere)

2006-07-11T21:20:00.000-06:00

The Science of Sleep

Oh man this looks kind of awesome. Pretentiously artsy? Possibly. Tops "Eternal Sunshine"? Dunno, could. Similarily heartbreaking and universally relative? Bloody likely. Shit, then slather something like "You Heart Is an Empty Room" over the top - possibly the most redeeming track of the last Death Cab - and I'm afraid I'm kinda melty and well, sold.

2006-07-11T14:20:00.000-06:00

My buddy Tim sent me this amusing take on "Sweet Child O' Mine" in an e-mail. It's currently at McSweeney's. Scroll down until you see: Notes on "Sweet Child O' Mine,"as Delivered to Axl Rose by His Editor.

The funniest thing I've read in weeks...

Oh my god there's more.

2006-07-08T23:40:00.000-06:00

If I were really clever, I would've clipped it, scanned it, and posted it here. 'Cuz you'll never believe me now...

The day or two after the Tom Petty-Pearl Jam gig, the Denver Post ran a review in the print version (would've been last Sunday), accompanied by a picture of Eddie Vedder with a capiton that began:

"Grunge legend, Eddie Vedder..."

Thank you. I quit.

It seems, and but of course, this qualifier is generally used in reference to the late Mr. Cobain. But please don't forget to add Jack Endino (there credited as progenitor of said sound), Kim Thayil, and the whole band Tad to the list.

2006-07-08T23:22:00.000-06:00

Ahh... finally, the holy grail:

Now I could be wrong, but I've looked up and down the web for this clip. Back in the day, those wild and not-so-worky dotcom days, when one could use his pr0nspertise to track down the Pam and Tommy fuck vid in 2.6 seconds, this still was still unattainable. To my knowledge, it's not worthy of the SNL musical performance DVDs. But thanks to YouTube...

2006-07-08T23:10:00.000-06:00

I take back anything bad I ever said about the guy: Adam Carolla hangs up on Coulter

(file under: radio, mp3)

2006-06-25T23:06:00.000-06:00

Kelly likes shoes

Pretty genius. I guess this has been making the rounds for a few weeks or months. I'm old.

Sonic Discrepancies

2006-06-12T13:11:00.000-06:00

(let's try again...) Today's three reviews of Sonic Youth's brilliant new album "Rather Ripped" in Pitchfork, TMT, and Stylus perfectly illustrate the biases that each of these sites bring to the table, respectively: Hipper than thou, Beyond hip, Popper than thou.

Brandon Stosuy plays it up the middle, unwilling to go as far as he seems to want to in giving the album a 7.5. It's probably a lot closer to a high 8 or low 9 in Pfork-speak, and Brandon seems to admit as much when he says the record's a "grower", but I get the sense that he may be holding back for fear of dropping the third-in-a-row "glorious return"/accessiblity type hype on the Youth out of the Pfork stable. And besides, how do you write 500-plus words on "Ripped" and not even mention "Rats"? Lee's requisite cut (always always referred to as such) nearly steals the freakin' show, except that the rest of the play has too much production value to allow it. e.g. As has been oft-repeated already, Kim's back in a big way. [For what it's worth, Stosuy's been my favorite 'fork reviewer of late and his value-added commentary about cribbing roadmaps of the underground from SY-liners of yore is spot-on and greatly appreciated by this pre-Internet avant-dilettante.]

The, presumably, 12-year-old kid they got to review the album over at TMT is clearly in over his head in giving it a 3/5. Copping to complete naivete, the joint begins, "Being born a bit too late and without the proper context, I really can't say that Daydream Nation is my favorite SY album." Zip, what? No point in reading any further -- timing and placement have absolutely nothing to do with "Daydream's" prominent seat at the head table. (Note to Marvin: please assign these things to someone who: A. knows something about the band and their legacy, and B. knows something about music in general. Thanks.) Then again, this suitably demonstrates the where-TMT-be-at-ness of it all: For every ill-conceived review brought forth from their url, there is probably 1/10th of a not-yet-released record from a not-yet-heard-of artist being introduced to yours truly. e.g. Thanks for the Zu tip.

Now what to do about those over-the-pond popsters at Stylus. You knew if there was a compliment forthcoming for the Youth is was going to be of the back-handed variety from the typewriters of those chaps. And surely their lead-in, "Archetypal indie rockers sacrifice art for rock bullshit, glorious bullshit..." qualifies as such despite the author's attempts at drawing a "bullshit" theme around the fakery required to top charts. So I guess it wasn't a complete surprise that Stylus would be enamored of what is, admittedly, the most accessible SY offering since "Experimental Jet Set". But the apologetic tone struck by the writer for even, gasp, daring to recommend such a non-mainstream-"mainstream" record by a group of NYC dinosaurs is almost as cute as it is obvious.

It's probably not a stretch to call this record their best since the early nineties (looking in "Goo's" direction). Though I don't want to discount the overlooked and underrated "Thousand Leaves", I think it's fair to say this is different animal from that one.

Now, as far as the bias this-here "site" brings to the table? If'n it's me talking, call it: Crankier than thou.

Links:

http://pitchforkmedia.com/record-reviews/s/sonic-youth/rather-ripped.shtml

http://tinymixtapes.com/musicreviews/s/sonic_youth.htm

http://www.stylusmagazine.com/reviews/sonic-youth/rather-ripped.htm

Sonic Discrepancies

2006-06-12T11:41:00.000-06:00

Today's

Life Imitates Punk

2006-06-07T10:51:00.000-06:00

On Fox News' Your World, Jonathan Hoenig, managing member of Capitalistpig Asset Management LLC, asserted that bombing Iran would raise the Dow Jones industrial average. Hoening stated: "[F]rankly, if you want to see the Dow go up, let's get the bombers in the air and neutralize this Iranian threat. We've gone to the negotiating table, we have danced around with these people" and "that's not going to help this country nor the stock market."

Fear: "Let's have a war! Jack up the Dow Jones!"

Links: http://mediamatters.org/items/200606060009
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0000057BR/103-6948913-0956625?v=glance&n=5174

2006-05-20T19:03:00.000-06:00

Lordi Lordi Lordi

I'm thinking that this will make Kevin very happy.

2006-05-08T12:33:00.000-06:00

Grant McLennan

It's a long story between me and the Go-Betweens, so I'll try to keep it to the point, which is that there are now no more Go-Betweens as of sometime on Saturday when Grant McLennan died in the most untimely way. Preparing for a party at his home in Brisbane, supposedly to celebrate the fact that EMI had recently purchased their catalogue, thus making them financially secure for the first time ever, Grant began to feel unwell and took to his bed. Friends found him later that evening. He had a heart attack. He was 48. Poetic injustice has always followed the Go-Betweens around, but not like this.

I'll be honest with you: as I got older, Robert Forster became my favorite Go-Between. Something about his archness, the timbre of his voice as he too aged, his beautifully odd lyrical style, his enduring charm and elan. But Grant was the one who provided my entree to the band. He wrote the three songs that most people will know if they know anything about the Go-Betweens: "Cattle and Cane," "Bachelor Kisses," and "Streets of Your Town," and I would defy anyone to name three more beautiful or affecting songs, musically or lyrically. When you hear Grant sing these songs it's like it's sunny and it's raining at the same time. Beautifully fresh and open, disguising something ultimately a little off-kilter, but you can't quite put your finger on what it is.

Of the two singer-songwriters in the band (and by the way, isn't it odd that Grant's last name is a weird amalgam of Lennon and McCartney?), Grant was the poppy one, the cuddly one, the most immediately melodic one. He wrote "Right Here," a paean, sort of, to not letting go of something good, although the one thing about the Go-Betweens you should know is that they're never straightforward. From 16 Lovers Lane, their best album, Grant wrote "Love Goes On," "Quiet Heart," "The Devil's Eye," "Streets of Your Town," and "Was There Anything I Could Do." If I'd written those songs, I would have retired immediately and waited for my MacArthur genius fellowship to arrive in the mail. But sadly, this was the album that convinced the Go-Betweens the world wasn't ready for them, or at least that it wasn't prepared to buy their records in numbers large enough to feed them on a regular basis. So they hung it up for ten years until they got back together with some members of Sleater-Kinney and made The Friends of Rachel Worth in 2000.

Neither McLennan's nor Forster's solo careers really achieved the same soaring critical heights of the Go-Betweens, which is kind of strange, really, because it's not like they collaborated in the conventional way. Go-Betweens albums are an alternating yin and yang of Grant songs and Robert songs, so you'd think you could just cut and paste their solo albums into a series of lost Go-Betweens records, but it doesn't work. I've tried. They only very occasionally sang on each other's songs or switched off verses, two rare examples being 16 Lovers Lane's "Clouds," and "Too Much Of One Thing" from their second (and best) reunion album "Bright Yellow Bright Orange." Mostly, though, they served as true complements to each other, each prismatically reflecting the perspective of the other one.

I saw them live, once, last spring at the Cat's Cradle in North Carolina, on a Sunday evening. It was by far the smallest market they played in on their brief U.S. tour. They probably only did it as a favor to their American label, Yep Roc, which is based in Chapel Hill. The other dates on the tour were New York, Chicago, big cities, sophisticated audiences. The crowd was full of people who had come a very long way to see them, all eager to share Go-Betweens memories. We struggled through a couple of unremarkable opening acts (well, one was OK, but one was dreadful) until the Go-Betweens took the stage around 10. It was incredibly good, but it took a little time to reveal itself,as the best things sometimes do, like, say, a Go-Betweens album. Robert Forster was immediately delightful, working his eyebrows and projecting a dapper impishness throughout. Grant, though, seemed a little off at first. Perhaps he wondered what they were doing there. Hadn't they left Australia all those years ago just to escape this very parochial kind of experience? His guitar didn't work right. His mike cut out and he had to abbreviate a song at the beginning of the set. He said something about how maybe it was just "one of those nights." Some of us started to wonder if perhaps the sunny disposition was a little bit of an act which disguised a passive agressive prima donna. But he didn't reckon with the crowd, which was determined to love him and Robert and to make them enjoy themselves as much as we were bound to do ourselves.

By the time he performed "Streets of Your Town," and then "Cattle and Cane" as an encore, I thought that I might bawl openly in front of hundreds and hundreds of hip grown ups. But I wasn't even embarrassed. There was joy in the air. Grant took the microphone off the stand, hunched over it and did something kind of remarkable with "Cattle and Cane," a Go-Betweens standard if there ever was one. He remade it. It approached hip hop in its angularity, and yet retained its bucolic and nostalgic wonder. He seemed like he was having a good time. He couldn't possibly have had as good a time as we did. I raved to my friend Amy in the car afterwards. She raved back. We wanted to go back and do it all over again. We couldn't believe how fortunate we had just been, to see such beautiful people and such great artists at their absolute peak in the most unlikely circumstance.

Robert Forster has already put any speculation to rest about the future of the band. He said: "The Go-Betweens have made their final album. They have played their final show. We let it rest at that, being very proud of what we have done." Of course. They are unimaginable without each other. My life is unimaginable without them. Some people talk about important art and they mention people like Bach and Mozart and Coltrane and Picasso and so on, and that's fine. You can't argue with that. But in my canon, there are no more important artists than the Go-Betweens, for their wit and wisdom, their perfectly tasteful aesthetic, their feminism, their vision, their compassion, and their humanity. Grant was a full and equal partner in that enterprise and I can't imagine life without him.

So much for "to the point." I could write about this band for the rest of my life.

2006-05-08T10:27:00.000-06:00

Tinymixtapes is reporting that Grant McLennan of the Go-Betweens died on Saturday. link

I don't know much Go-Betweens, but what I've heard I enjoy immensely. And, of course, it's always tragic when someone passes so young. I have Rod's encouragement and enthusiasm about the band to thank for turning me onto these guys in the first place. I'm anxious to hear what he has to say. Perhaps in a post above?

Update: I see where Pfork posted on this over the weekend. Their piece includes a link to the video for "Bachelor Kisses" from the album Spring Hill Fair.

The BBC article says he died in his sleep.

2006-05-02T19:30:00.000-06:00

Savetheinternet.com

> Mike McCurry's hurting the Internet

2006-04-21T13:31:00.000-06:00

Yay for (Canadian) teens! They heart vinyl!

Perhaps we're not doomed after all...oh right.

Anyway, I always have to chuckle when I see vinyl referred to as a dead medium. At least in the musical world that you (our teeming bands of loyal readers) and I live in, vinyl doesn't seem to be dead at all and is indeed offered as a purchasing option for many-a-release. And while I'll admit that my ipod still rules my world, and even though I'm babysitting a sweet turntable that's currently unplugged in my basement (this is not how i treat all my charges, mind you), and my remaining crate of records gathers much dust, well, I heart vinyl too, kids. It's big art and huggable width and music you can see. I've been swearing for a couple of years now that I'm gonna buy all my current favorite albums on vinyl and I totally will just you wait.

I did however, come one step closer to plugging in that turntable that's not mine. I finally found a vinyl (it's all that exists) copy of MIA's (not that Galang girl) glorious (as I remember it) After the Fact on Ebay. It's an out-of-print gem from my youth that I've been dying to hear again since I misplaced my wretched dubbed cassette copy too many years ago. I was begining to think I dreamt that band, as finding reference to it amid the hype around that other MIA proved a bit of a challenge. There's next to nothing on AMG, but for what it's worth, a little trivia: Two MIA members went on to form the glorious, before-their-time Big Drill Car. Someone out there has got to remember and love this stuff...right?

So yeah, vinyl. \m/

2006-04-21T11:38:00.000-06:00

Neil Young's blog: Living With War

(CNN appearance)

2006-04-21T11:11:00.000-06:00

Smashing Pumpkins Site Says 'It's Official'... Band Has Reunited

Oh, it's official all right: Billy Corgan's desperately clinging to the few remaining threads of his performing career. I can't suppose I blame him. I think, however, he'd be smart to focus on production and composition work ala Linda Perry. (He single-handedly kept Courtney Trainwreck's poplife afloat for another year or two.) Then, fivesix years down the line he can make a man-and-a-stool acoustic comeback which will be received hugely.

Alas, this has all the earmarks of bad (and not good "bad").

As a bigfan, I hope I'm wrong.

(via djmartian)

2006-04-19T21:58:00.000-06:00

George Bush: Metalhead? "I Am the Decider"? Isn't that a cut off of Sad Wings of Destiny?

Oh, no wait, that's "Deceiver".

2006-04-14T11:56:00.000-06:00

I can play old Van Halen and tons of other sh*t too. It's not even f*cking funny. Every time I walk into Guitar Center pretty much everyone in the whole store knows it's f*cking on, b*tch! Link

This guy is rooling it right now. Also: theblackmetaldialogues

Yardstick

2006-04-13T13:13:00.000-06:00

Something about there being no accounting for taste, or different strokes for different folks, and all that jazz. But I can't, quite frankly, understand why everyone and their mother/brother/sister/daddy just ain't in love with Fiona's latest, and highly controversial*, work. At least, of course (and much belabored, this point), the early, leaked, Jon Brion, not-the-Elizondo-version, that version, version. Of course.

Am I not missing something? Am I hearing something that's simply not there? Usually, nay always, I'm missing something. Like that Broken Social Scene record from last year that's finally clicking: I was missing something. A lot, it turns out. But here, at Fiona's, it's all there. Laid bare.

I guess I just feel, that even after it's been all said and done, and it's just you and your cans in the dark with "Extraordinary Machine", and you come back to me and make the most compelling case ever, "Arrangements are overwrought (of course they aren't), the wavering vocals are played in this post-Win Butler era (duude, please), she's too skinny (don't be silly, it's an aural art), etc...," that I'm still not buying. I'm thinking, if you're not "hearing it" then what are those ears doing on the sides of your head? What a waste. Give em to someone who can use 'em, or give 'em to me and I'll be the hott four-eared superfreak of nature over here.

But then, there's no accounting for taste. I'm trying to count beans anyway.

* - Maybe only in my mind, on the ILM board, in the zines, blogs, and in indie kids' minds during their last Blender jackoff session.

Parochialism, Pt. I

2006-04-11T13:03:00.000-06:00

Recently, while listening to Eleventh Dream Day's superb "El Moodio", it dawned that I wish I had more time here to hype the hometown bands of my youth. For, seemingly, the brilliance is in endless supply. We've touched on Smoking Popes, Naked Raygun, Califone, Steve Albini, to name a few.. but I yearn for the time to wax at slightly longer length about these and many other Chitown artists (looking at you, Yow). And maybe I'll actually get to it too.

In the interim, I came across this tidbit (by Jason Ankeny on AMG) about the aforementioned Dream Day -- and in the process discovered Thrill Jockey is set to release a new long-player, their first in six years, two weeks from today (!) -- "One of the most resilient and criminally underappreciated bands to rise from the Midwestern underground community..." Spot on. And, just as my high school English teacher said about a soon-to-be-released Woody Allen flick lo these many years ago, "I owe to him to go see it on opening night," I owe it to EDD to go pick up "Zeros and Ones" on 4/25.

OMG!

2006-04-11T12:27:00.000-06:00

When is the new Pearl Jam gonna leak already??!! I can't take it another minute!

Coming soon on DVD...

2006-04-11T10:26:00.000-06:00

(This thing writes itself...)

Battle Royale: MiniKiss v. TinyKiss - Last Man, er, Standing!

Link: http://www.calendarlive.com/music...

Quick Hits

2006-03-24T11:07:00.000-07:00

One spin around Colossal Yes's "Acapulco Roughs" block and I'm sold. It's an album full of piano ballads from Utrillo Kushner of Comets on Fire. But don't be fooled by that pedigree -- this one might be at home during your Carpenters' listening parties.

So "You in Reverse" isn't the "Perfect From Now On II" I was hoping for. Maybe Martsch doesn't have a II in him at this stage. (Maybe Warners doesn't have it in them?) But five years with no Built to Spill leaves one's whistle a bit dry. I want to like this record so much, even though overall it's more pop ("Secret", "Ancient") than jam ("Perfect"). If one track is going to be that bridge for me, it might be "Conventional Wisdom". Martch's axework, of course, is still beyond reproach.

Mascis' Witch project isn't gonna earn high marks for originality. Then again, I'm a firm believer that the world could never have too many Kyuss cribbers. Which, in turn, means you could never have enough Sabbath worshipers. Thick.

NPR Live Concert Series

2006-03-24T10:32:00.000-07:00

Those of you in the know, probably already knew. But I'm an old dude, and a dad at that. Lucky to be able to program the VCR -- which, actually, I can't handle anymore (it was like flicking a switch at 36), hence the Tivo. But I digress...

Heard about NPR broadcasting a live Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (save it) back on March 8th and tuned in to catch about 2/3's of the gig. Sweet stuff. Trolling around the website, I was pleased to learn that the kindly NPR folks have archived previous concerts for my (and your) listening pleasure.

Again, maybe this is old news, but let it serve as a bookmark to Daddy.

Link: NPR Live Concert Series

2006-02-24T13:09:00.000-07:00

Sigur Ros
I no longer want to sit passively and watch.

Last night's Sigur Ros performance (this was no "show" mind you) made me squirm with the helpless anxiety I thought was limited to listening to classical music. In that regard, my appreciation feels physical but how to express? Conducting motions are the terrain of that elder gentleman alone in his Lexus. Whistling does a disservice most of the time. No, my appreciation can only be satisfied by actually playing, and when I can't, this inevitably creates a physical tension in me.

But Sigur Ros isn't exactly classical, so what's the deal? Well, I've seen enough cellos on rockshow stages in the past week (Munly & the Lee Lewis Harlots, Matson Jones, Sigur Ros) that the desire to play has grabbed a hold of me in that same anxious way. And so last night, watching the Sigur Ros Ladies Chamber Orchestra, I reached that tipping point: I've officially gone from, "Gee, I should pick up the cello again" to "OK I need a cello now, and I don't care if it's school orchestra quality. To Ebay! Chop-chop!" I should never have given up the instrument back in high school; I stopped just as I was starting to get good, and all for petty reasons. To put it bluntly, the orchestra consisted of a lot of dipshits and the teacher was insufferable. So I abandoned that elective in favor of art class, for the cool kids and for the art. But I digress...

The Sigur Ros Ladies Chamber Orchestra was a tight semi-circle at the rear of center stage. Dimly lit and in the distance from my mezzanine seat, I can only be sure it consisted of one cello and three violins and/or violas. Their pale, bare, seemingly disembodied arms slowly guiding their bows at times looked like the arms of Shiva as Nataraja. I was entranced.

One of the most captivating things about that show was the way the musicians - at least 8 of them onstage at any given time - quietly and pointedly glided from station to station to perform various musical tasks. No jumping around, no antics, no talking; this was purely technical. And the payoff was a flawless recital of their sonic grandeur.

It was watching this careful and deliberate music-making that I realized this was the kind of thing I wanted to be a part of. This is my real music fantasy.

Even though I was fascinated just watching the musicians do their thing, the light show stood in for whatever visual drama one might crave. They opened with a sheer curtain in front of the band, with carefully positioned lights casting them as giant shadows. The curtain was drawn back for the duration of the show, until they faded out their encore by pulling it across once more. The evening's climax was accentuated with spinning disco balls tucked behind big black boxes (amps?) so to create an effect of thousands of beams of light bursting forth.

At times they displayed film loops on a giant screen. Two I remember in particular, a negative of bugs flying around a light, and a slow motion sequence of a young girl with braided hair, provided an utterly fantastic visual accompaniment. As one of my companions aptly put it, it was "otherworldly".

Now I just need to get that cello...

Early contender for song title of the year...

2006-02-02T12:02:00.000-07:00

"Tom Araya is our Elvis" from ZU's Way of the Animal Power, which is highly recommended if you dig death-thrash jazz. And who doesn't?
TMT review http://www.tinymixtapes.com/musicreviews/z/zu.htm

2006-01-16T14:37:00.000-07:00

2005 LPs
Here is a list of artists who put out albums which I found worth listening to this year, and even the forseeable future, thus makinig these records worth recommending to you. In approximate alpha-order:

Akron/Family
Angels of Light & Akron/Family (Split)
Antony & the Johnsons
Black Dice
Deerhoof
Dead Meadow
Dalek
Devendra Banhart
Delia Gonzalez & Gavin Russom
Green Milk from the Planet Orange
The Evens
Fiona Apple (Brion ver.)
Jackie-O Motherfucker
Lightning Bolt
My Morning Jacket
Ocean
Orange Juice (Comp.)
Orthrelm
Out Hud
The Psychic Paramount
Pelican
Red Sparowes
Sufjan Stevens
Sunn 0)))
Vashti Bunyan

2006-01-16T14:28:00.000-07:00

Just when you thought Gene Simmons couldn't get any more shameless...

I Am Indy

(You are so not in so many ways, Gene.)

2006-01-16T13:42:00.000-07:00

New BTS - "Goin' Against Your Mind"

Yeah, so this sounds promising. And it is: http://myspace.com/builttospill

Just when I thought I was out, Martsch pulls me back in...

2006-01-10T11:49:00.000-07:00

2005 Albums of the Year: Against All Odds

When 2005 began, I was in low spirits. Everything seemed quite hopeless. And what was more, there wasn’t even any good music to listen to. I was fairly convinced that this was going to be the worst year for music in living memory, and that I would have my work cut out for me to stay out of the loony bin. I sent out appeals and cries for help to all and sundry. “Could somebody please send me some recommendations. I’m dying over here. Did I suddenly get old? Am I missing the good stuff that the kids are listening to? What happened to us? We used to be cool.” And so on.

This went on for a while.

I don’t know quite when or how it happened, and it wasn’t even all of a sudden, but eventually, I started to notice and realize that either I hadn’t been paying attention, or that people had been holding out on me, because there turned out to be a rather remarkable amount of really incredible music right in front of me. And not only that, but individual artists seemed themselves to be overwhelmed and overwhelming in the extent of their talent. Single albums contained almost too much melody, intellect and spirit to take in. Songwriters had enough hooks to sink a ship, cramming four or five songs into the space normally occupied by just one. 2005 turned was turning out to be something of an embarrassment of riches, a cornucopia even.

Top of this list have to be the New Pornographers and Sufjan Stevens. I mean, did they sell their souls to the devil or something? Because there was almost too much going on in their albums for one person to be able to assimilate. I was making a mix of 2005 songs recently and I wanted to include the entirety of Twin Cinema, because every song was ridiculously catchy. And how does Sufjan Stevens keep finding new melodies at this point in human history? Aren’t they all used up already? And how much did he pay Satan for the sublime beauty that is “Concerning The UFO Sighting Near Highland, Illinois”? I can still barely stand to listen to it in the same way that I'm afraid to look directly at the sun. And I don’t know what kind of macrobiotic diet the Animal Collective are subjecting themselves to in their Brooklyn commune, but it’s producing a superabundance of incredible left-field pop music. Never did the obtuse sound so obviously catchy, and I mean that in nothing but a positive way. Is it possible that they could go the way of the Flaming Lips and have celebrities dressing up in animal suits during their live shows? I would pay serious money to see Justin Timberlake cavorting along to “Purple Bottle” while dressed as an ocelot.

Also, Scandinavia seems to be the new Montreal, if only on the basis of Jens Lekman, Jose Gonzalez, Junip and Amandine, four delightful musical experiences that make me want to go visit Sweden and its environs and roll around in the snow, possibly not completely clothed, but let’s not get too excited. Jens Lekman is a song machine. He’s thrown away more great songs than most so-called songwriters will ever find in a lifetime(yes, Noel Gallagher, I’m looking in your direction, how dare you even think about calling yourself an artiste in the face of such talent?). Not to mention that they’re all completely charming, Jens, Jose and the rest put out some delicious tunes in 2006, most notably Jens' "Sky Phenomenon," "Pocketful of Money," and "Black Cab." Jose Gonzalez made a name for himself by recording some unlikely but very effective covers, such as Joy Division’s “Love Will Tear Us Apart,” Massive Attack’s “Teardrop,” Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the USA, and Kylie Minogue’s “Hand on My Heart.” I saw Amandine play live some time in the fall and they were just so dear. All plaid shirts and beards, but yet still so clean. Two of them were brushing their teeth next to me in the bathroom right before they went onstage. I could just smell the freshness. And their rosy-cheeked accordion player went to some pains to explain their travails in getting said accordion to the show, while at the same time trying to strap the accordion around his neck and arms. "Never learn to play the accordion," he said, very earnestly. "It is the most uncomfortable instrument." Amandine's "Stitches" was one of the best songs of the year. Bless them. Jens has to be the star of the show, though. How can one man be so good looking, so talented, and so charming all at once? Oh You’re So Silent Jens didn’t even come across my field of vision until December for some reason, but it instantly became one of my very favorite albums of the last few years, notwithstanding that it was a compilation of EPs. Try to find his demos and outtakes at his “Department of Forgotten Songs” website. There are some gems there.

The cover version was big in 2006, actually, and some people turned out to be better at it than others. Conor Oberst’s cover of Leslie Feist’s “Mushaboom” was one of the worst things I’ve ever heard, and he should be ashamed of himself. And while I guess I grudgingly respect the tribute that Coldplay were paying to Kylie by covering “I Can’t Get You Out of My Head” at the Glastonbury festival last summer, it was still execrable and they had no business doing it. Sometimes it’s just embarrassing to hear the establishment try to get in good with the kids by making some desperate play for hipness. This was one of those times. On the plus side, Iron and Wine were known to cover things like “Wild Horses” and “Cowgirl in the Sand” at their live shows with Calexico, and I’ve heard an insane version of Springsteen’s “Thunder Road” by Will Oldham and Tortoise that bodes very well for their collaboration in 2006. Mark Kozelek even made a whole album of Modest Mouse covers, which nobody but me seemed to like.

Other bands who were already kind of more or less established, at least within the relatively disestablished realm of indie music, pulled off some impressive feats in 2005. Wilco’s live double album initially reeked of bloated rock and roll obsolescence, until I heard it and it blew my socks off. This is a seriously relevant and vibrant live album. And I don’t know if I’ve ever said that about a live album that wasn’t jazz. And speaking of jazz, I thought for a while I was the only person alive who was enjoying the self-titled Broken Social Scene album, but it turned out that we were just hiding our lights under a bushel. When it first came out, the response to the S/T BSS was distinctly underwhelming, and I even wondered if I was going crazy because I liked it so well. But after a while people started coming up to me (I want to say that they started coming up to me on the street, but it wasn’t that much of a phenomenon, seriously) and saying, “You know, I really love that Broken Social Scene album," and I just wanted to hug them with gratitude. Because it really does repay frequent and close listening, really it does. Songs like “Superconnected” and “Hotel” are just a pleasure to behold. And if you can get to their session on Morning Becomes Eclectic, those songs just come into focus in a way that they might not have before. I think they’re here to stay, I really do.

Death Cab made the move to the majors without missing a step, whether you like them or not, and in the process made at least two of the songs of 2005 that made me cry more than once, one of which was “Your Heart Is An Empty Room,” because it was about being with someone and wanting to be with them and yet still not understanding why you kept having to escape even though you loved them more than anyone you’ve ever known. That Ben Gibbard is some kind of a grown up, and I mean that in the best possible way.

And there were the inevitable Next Big Things, most obviously Clap Your Hands Say Yeah and Wolf Parade, both of whom I liked quite a bit, although I’m not sure I could stand to be in the same room with either of those albums for terribly long without wanting to hurt myself, mostly on account of the timbre which tends toward the shrill and the anxious. Dark horse candidate for NBT, though, has to be Rogue Wave, who came on extremely strong with their poprocks hanging all the way out on Descended Like Vultures, which I absolutely LOVED. And don’t forget Art Brut, who managed to get on everyone’s best of lists while not even having a deal in the US yet. Oh, MP3 downloads, what are you like? Art Brut (and their northern cousins the Arctic Monkeys) have laid down a very mucky and sweaty gauntlet that says, “If we can do it, then so can you, right? Wrong. We’re much better than we seem at making this sound like we don’t know what we’re doing, so don’t try this at home.” It was a beautiful noise in both cases. I hope the backlash isn’t too soon in coming, because right now the honeymoon is quite delightful.

And finally, I saw two live shows this year that were right up there with the best I’ve ever seen - the Go-Betweens at the Cat’s Cradle in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, and American Analog Set at the Andy Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh. In their different ways, these shows reminded me what this is all about. Tiny venues, incredibly enthusiastic and knowledgeable fans, and bands that gave it back in spades. Robert Forster of the Go-Betweens would pepper his between-song banter with very enthusiastic exclamations that the foregoing song had indeed been “Marvellous,” and Andrew Kenny of Amanset gave a heartfelt thanks to the fans at the end of the Warhol show by way of taking his leave from the live music circuit. I was so moved by the latter show that I even ventured onto the stage at the end of the set to thank him personally for what I considered to be a “beautiful and perfect” experience. He was nice enough not to call security, satisfying himself with a rather tentative pat on the shoulder as if to say, “OK, now run along before you start to scare me.” But no two musical experiences have ever put a bigger smile on my face than these, and all of this after several months of really quite desperate doldrums, both musical and otherwise. So thanks, GB’s and Amanset. You made my year. And that's saying something, believe me.

In no particular order, 2005 albums I loved included:

Jens Lekman, Oh You’re So Silent Jens
Sufjan Stevens – Illinois
The New Pornographers – Twin Cinema
Broken Social Scene – S/T
Wilco – Kicking Television
Amandine – This is Where Our Hearts Collide
American Analog Set – Set Free
Animal Collective – Feels
Rogue Wave – Descended Like Vultures
Death Cab For Cutie - Plans
Jose Gonzalez – Veneer
Out Hud – Let Us Never Speak Of It Again
Wolf Parade – Apologies to the Queen Mary
Art Brut – Bang, Bang, Rock & Roll
Alligator – The National
The Fall – Fall Heads Roll
The Go-Betweens – Oceans Apart
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah – S/T
Youth Group – Skeleton Key
Page France – Hello, Dear Wind

UPDATE: I should point out, in the interest of giving credit where it is certainly long overdue, that several of these selections came originally recommended by Marnie, to whom I am extremely grateful for pointing me in the right direction. In particular, I am thankful to her for Amandine and Rogue Wave, although that's by no means the extent of how much music I would not be aware of without her suggesting it. Thanks, Marnie.

2006-01-05T19:28:00.000-07:00

Marnie's Favorites of 2005

Dear Reader,
Why does this feel obligatory? I know I haven't written in so long.

See, I love this stuff. The compiling, revisiting, swooning over all the records that were my soundtrack. I've spent more time on it this year than any other. This task is especially fun for me, someone who can barely, if at all, call herself a critic as I only like to talk about the stuff I love. If I hated it, I've probably already forgotten about it. I'm negative enough in daily life as it is without ruminating over why a particular record sucks. It's hard enough just to get through another surreal day of the Bush Administration to begin to worry about bad art (I'm looking at you, Furnaces).

But perhaps I'm over 2005, or perhaps it just wasn't a stellar year for music. However, 2005 hatched at least a handful of records that I think will stay at the top of the virtual pile (or at least spared from iPod deletion) for a long time to come, and a plethora of great songs. Check back with me in a couple years, of course. Because I'd love to hear from you.

My Top 15 Favorite Records:

1 Okkervil River - Black Sheep Boy
2 The National - Alligator
3 Sufjan Stevens - Illinois
4 Rogue Wave - Descended Like Vultures
5 Spoon - Gimmie Fiction
6 Bloc Party - Silent Alarm
7 Wolf Parade - Apologies to the Queen Mary
8 Out Hud - Let us Never Speak of it Again
9 New Pornographers - Twin Cinema
10 Sigur Ros - Takk
11 Broken Social Scene - S/T
12 The Wedding Present - Take Fountain
13 Malcolm Middleton - Into the Woods
14 Amandine - This is Where Our Hearts Collide
15 Art Brut - Bang Bang Rock n' Roll

Honorable mentions: The Rosebuds; The Evens; Sunn O))) (I'm as surprised as you are); Wilderness; Doves; Herman Dune; Brakes; Tom Vek; Mountain Goats; Oranges Band; The Raveonettes; The Frames; Shout Out Louds; The Hold Steady; and what the hell, on certain days, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah.

Behold my utterly surprising top tunes! Here it's the SONGS, not whether it was officially released as a single. Beyond this sampling, I've compliled a four disc set, 69 songs for your listening pleasure, just holler and a copy is yours.

Song of the year: "For Real" by Okkervil River
Runners up:
"Chicago" Sufjan Stevens
"Saeglopur" Sigur Ros
"How Long" Out Hud
"Karen" The National
"I Summon You" Spoon
"Publish My Love" Rogue Wave
"Hung Up" Madonna
"Around the Corner" The Evens
"The Bleeding Heart Show" New Pornographers
"This Modern Love" Bloc Party

2005 was really all about the live music. I finally saw my beloved favorite band, The National. While that was an incredible show - absolutely incredible, the hands down show of the year (we'll call it a sweep) was Okkervil River's Halloween Night mind-blowing spectacle of a rock show or I'm not sure WHAT you call that...experience. I haven't had that kind of emotional overload since I saw (don't laugh) Cirque du Soleil's Quidam and was so overwhelmed by virtually nude people silently twisting, entangled in red fabric panels some 40 feet up, that I deliberated climbing under my seat. Yes, after that Okkervil show they nearly had to clean the floor with me. That Will Sheff exudes more raw emotional energy in his vocals than any performer I've seen before. You think "For Real" is breathtaking? Wait until you hear it live...

Ween did not disappoint, in fact it was a triumphant comback complete with a chillingly fabulous "Buenos Tardes Amigo" (third) finale. And the Fiery Furnaces take the creative prize; at least 2/3 of their performance was delivered rapid fire, nearly speed metal-like to where the songs were difficult to discern from one another and it was remarkably captivating. Eleanor was a stunning image on stage, channeling Steve Perry in skin tight white pants. Oh and Phoenix, I'm sorry for stealing your chair.

Top 10 Live Acts of 2005

1 Okkervil River @ Hi-Dive
2 Ween @ The Fox
3 The National @ Hi-Dive
4 Phoenix @ The Bluebird
5 Sufjan Stevens @ The Bluebird
6 Fiery Furnaces @ The Fox
7 Spoon @ The Gothic
8 Sleater Kinney @ The Gothic
9 New Pornographers @ The Gothic
10 Bloc Party @ The Gothic

There. I did it. For you, gentle reader. Happy 2006.

Yours, Marnie

2005-12-15T23:16:00.000-07:00

Questions like...

What ever happened to Sellout Watch?

It became exhaustingly overwhelming. Didn't it? How could you keep up? I stopped trying and began to simply accept, or ignore altogether. I don't know if one is worse. Is ignoring commercials bad? Does refusing to accept the banalities of pop culture leave me in the cold? Only on Wednesday nights, I suppose. Or whichever one your show is on. I don't even know what Desperate Housewives is about, for example. But I imagine it involves hot bored homemakers blowing Mexican gardeners and getting sodomized by black delivery men. Except, only, it's on TV so you know it's not that. Oh, and probably it sucks. At least anything after the first 10 minutes of a porno is unseen. I don't know what the hell I'm talking about. That makes me over-qualified for high office in this country. I'm running for Senate immediately! Draft me a platform. No wait, hire me a transition team -- I've already won.

Fucking Sellout Watch.

2005-12-15T23:02:00.000-07:00

As in "to swing"...

Upon further Xmas review, Ella's Swinging Christmas is just about all you need. This one was a December fixture on my dad's turntable and just gushes with memories for me. My needs aside, however, this disc comes as advertised: It swings, baby.

Mary was cookin the Clouds Taste Metallic tonight -- still my favorite Lips. And "Christmas at the Zoo" was sorely overlooked on our little Xmas comp last year. So I'm soliciting new suggestions, if anyone should be so striken (or even knew we still cared -- we do, we're just soo buzy). I'll start: "Christmas at the Zoo" by the Flaming Lips. Oh wait...

Mmm okay, here's another one: Sujan Stevens' take on "We Three Kings"

I'm sorely unprepared for the end of the year in many more ways than one.

Do the Popes Shit in the Woods?

2005-11-18T16:18:00.000-07:00

This is a very very good thing:

Smoking Popes pick up where they left off in 1998

http://metromix.chicagotribune.com...

Live Music Archive

2005-10-05T10:25:00.000-06:00

Those of you in the know probably already knew. For me, it was like finding a turd in the punchbowl -- only the opposite of that. The good folks at the Internet Archive are compiling live music here: http://www.archive.org/audio/etree.php...

You kinda have to pick through the list. But the whole thing's worth it for the Dead sets alone. I used to be a big tape trader back in college and have since given away all but a few gems. It was nice to download and hear the China>Rider from my first show at Alpine Valley in 1987. It's a great one (if shitty sound qual). I'm sure this isn't the preferred venue for 'heads, but it serves my purpose for now. Anybody know where do all the traders hang out? (If you did, would you admit it in public?) Bitt0rrent? $eek's only spotty for that stuff.

I've run that race. It was exhausting.

2005-10-04T10:19:00.000-06:00

Now, I'm sure you've studied this new BSS record ad naseum, but I'm just not getting the hype. Well, at least not beyond the HAVE-TO-hype hype expected from the likes of pfork. Then again, I've not studied it. I listened, maybe, twice. Give it a chance, you'll say. But here's where I'm going... Not only was I uninspired by the lp, I was fairly bored. And, in hindsight, that second Interpol record now seems boring to me in the same way. That is, taking the safe exit seems weak to me. "If it ain't broke"... the saying goes. But, then, I've got a helluva lot more respect for the Liars and we shan't go back down that path right now. Perhaps I'm growing weary of the easy road, the more-of-the-same. Likely I will, time permitting (and when does it lately?), go back and take the past 3 years worth of my "best of" lists and cross off all the records I don't even bother with anymore. Odds are, there will be no more than half a dozen left each year. Respectively, expect a brief 2005 list outta yours truly -- if any at all. It's not fair to you, three readers, for me to recommend dropping hard-earned escarole on music I wouldn't waste five minutes on five months from now. Hindsight being 20/20 and all, it will be much more difficult to gauge today which albums I'll still care about later. Though, I think I'm up to the task -- if I'm up to the task at all. Already I find myself giving certain new releases 2, maybe 3, spins without grab before shelving and moving on. And already I find myself bored with this screed. Have a lovely day scouring for that next new thing. I'll be over in the corner shooting salad plates out of the air.

2005-09-09T12:07:00.000-06:00

Hurricane Katrina Infuriating Sidestory #3,962:

Wired News: Astrodome Radio Station Blocked

...Rita Obey, a local official from Harris County Public Health Services, gave them [the radio station organizers] a laundry list of prerequisites. The most notable of these was the command to procure 10,000 personal, battery-powered radios -- and batteries.

"She said she was afraid of 'people fighting over the radios,'" said Liz Surley, a KAMP volunteer. "She made us promise not to play any rap music, because she thought it might incite some of the evacuees to violence."

Sometimes it seems like every goddamned "official" decision made in this tragedy is somehow driven by racism and stereotyping.

2005-09-03T14:39:00.000-06:00

I take back everything bad I've ever said about Kanye West:
"George Bush doesn't care about black people."

(I just noticed that this was linked by Tim in the comments below. It deserves the bump. Hell, even Fox News and Newt Gingrich are eating their own. For those of you who voted for this fucker: I hope you're happy you shiteating dumbfucks. Hey, Trent Lott's gonna get a nice new house out of this. And all you rich white people are invited to hang out on his porch! Assholes.)

Test

2005-08-29T09:50:00.000-06:00

New Kanye West album is as weak and whitebread as the last one. Why
doesn't it surprise me that Pfork rated it off the chart?

2005-08-28T00:00:00.000-06:00

Turning Torso, Scandinavia's tallest skyscraper, opened today. Wow.

But what does this have to do with music? Everything, of course.

2005-08-27T23:46:00.000-06:00

Jay-Z, From Superstar to Suit

2005-08-23T10:51:00.000-06:00

Malcolm Middleton - Into the Woods

What a gorgeous, fulfilling collection of brogue-soaked, driving complaint (this guy really has some hangups about his face) rock. That glorious accent adds a unique, albeit secondary accompaniment to the barrage of instrumentation and styles. But be forewarned: this is no genteel Belle and Sebastian Scottish - if that thick brogue bugs you, well, move right along then. You'll probably hate this. Fans of Arab Strap won't even be fazed.

The production here is loud and full. Every song is heavily layered, mezmerizing, and remarkably hypnotic for what is on the surface, a straight-forward rock album. It's at once guitar post-punk, piano pop, electro-indie pop, and new wave. Brimming with sound and intense arrangement. The mix of styles guarantee against monotony - just when you think you've got the album figured out, you're again thrown off by an electronically-laden pop song that's executed in the same effortless manner of the last guitar-driven rock song. As you'd expect, the lyrics are almost always wittily self-deprecating and heartbreaking, yet blissfully tender. Delicate brooding often meets disaffected crass within the confines of a single song.

The track that initially drew me to this record, "Bear With Me", seduces with deep circular guitar riffs that entertwine with a thundering drum track; a little piano, some backward loops, and a little out-of-range vocal flair drop into the mix to add little rays of light to this storm. Its low repetitive undertones and lyrics give it a swirling quality and a hook that will invade your brain and make itself at home.

My other standout fav, the devastating "Solemn Thirsty", is a duet that reminds me a little of "Fairytale of New York", but replaces the hostility with resignation: "We should meet up/At the end of time/Get a beer and a cigarette/For auld lang syne". The couple's parting sentiments strike a sad yet sentimental balance that's echoed by the cold marching of a reverberated snaredrum and warm, enveloping synthesizers.

Despite the fact that I know next to nothing of Arab Strap's catalogue, I'd confidently say that their fans will probably love this. But I suspect that non-fans might also find something here as well. In fact, anyone who craves a full sound and that excitable, addictive energy perfectly suited for liberating late summer drive will probably love this as much as I do.

2005-08-20T22:55:00.000-06:00

A couple of things...

The first cut off the new Goldfrapp, "Ooh La La", cops the riff from "Spirit in the Sky". Though I suppose that's to be taken as homage... I admit, it's hard to determine where to draw the line in a pop culture that seems to reward unoriginality as some sort of fresh air. What's not to like about Allison, regardless?

"Do You Want To", the new track from Franz Ferdinand is brutal. Like I want to vangogh myself brutal. Is this really the first single? FF: Redefining sophomore slump? Though it could be argued...

(Assist to Paul on the early .)

2005-08-16T07:23:00.000-06:00

Sellout Watch

As if we weren't already close enough to despair, I have to tell you, in case you don't already know, that Target is now bastardizing Sir Mix-a-Lot as follows:

"We like backpacks and we cannot lie.." and so on.

I really don't know what this world is coming to, I swear to God.

A Kevin by any other name...

2005-08-03T11:24:00.000-06:00

Looking for that Fiery Furnaces meet Peaches on a laptop vibe? Try Kevin Blechdom's (not her real name) "Bitches Without Britches". The two-year-old album recently made its way to my ears via some article in some publication. Or it was slotted on the AMG homepage and Kevin's (not her real name) red hair and freckles piqued my interest. Doesn't matter. I need not "discover" music all by myself. Not since my early teens, when I used to pick out metal records based on cover art or scour two-month-old imported Kerrangs for some punishing new sounds, does shit like that really matter. "Loudest, heaviest, fastest metal band in the world" the reader wrote and I paraphrase; and I was the first kid on my block to own "Kill Em All". (I was also the first kid on my block to roundly denounce the Black Album as a total fucking sellout, and so it goes: from first to discovery to first to disparage.)

Looking to clean your keyboard after the aforementioned orgy is over? Try cotton swabs and rubbing alcohol to tackle the stickiest of messes.

Hey, did you read where the Swedish Institute of Somethingorother did a study that says drinkers are better thinkers? Pleased to meet you, I'm Albert Fucking Einstein.

Memo

2005-08-02T14:00:00.000-06:00

To: Nobody in particular
From: Kevin
Re: The Constantines "Tournament of Hearts"

When's this thing kick in? They seem to be driving towards a destination, but they're really just driving in circles. It's not that the music herein isn't nicely arranged; it's just that it doesn't build on anything. It doesn't fucking deliver. Like a UPS.com Track request perpetually stuck in "Destination Scan" status. A series of thumping cadences layered with smart lyrics and interesting multi-instrumental flourishes and then, wham, track over... album over. When's this thing gonna finally kick in? Next record? I know, it's probably heresey for me to question the Great Canadian indie-rock influx, but who gives a shit. I'm already on record as having determined the Arcade Fire long-player as hype-unworthy. Which is not true of the EP, btw -- and raise your hands if you still listen to that "Funeral" thing*. Thought so. And while we're at it, the new New Pornographers is only half-a-whine better than godawful. But in the other corner, I unabashedly praised "Shine A Light" (dig around the archives a bit)... and don't even attempt to pry the Godspeed records from my collection. So there. And sometime, maybe sometime, I'll regale you with a tale of my love for (labelmate) Jim Guthrie. In the meantime, however, this will have to suffice: Guthrie's rendition of "Nighttime/Anytime (It's Alright)", alone, makes The Believer 2005 Music Issue CD worth the price of admission. As for why, see the previous discussion of truly well-done covers shining a new light (pun int.) on originals. (Mitchum's typically Pfork-centric, over-serious-in-the-grand-scheme-of-things review notwithstanding. Rob, regarding your last two sentences: pot, kettle: black. Get ovah. Though I do agree with you re: Behar.)

* - Rant for a later day: The ADD listening patterns of today's p2p-blogosphere music crit. Show me someone who can legitimately digest, say, 300 albums in a year and I will show you a sleepless zombie without ears.

2005-07-22T12:18:00.000-06:00

Eyelash sunbursts and wristwatch reflections,
Staring out the window of an airplane at dusk.
Saccharine Trust.

2005-07-14T09:57:00.000-06:00

The National vs. The Clap or
Has Pitchfork completely lost it?

First, let's talk about the good: I got the news I'd been waiting for last night, and in an effort to be positive, I'd like to express my sheer gratitude to The National for not skipping Denver. I've been waiting two years for this, and I think it will be just as fantabulous as I've imagined.

Yet, my elation was quickly killed by the sheer idiocy of the Pitchfork Hype Machine. First, it's confession time:

I have to acknowledge that I was once a cog in the machine's greasy wheels. I played a role in hypewatch 2003 with my numerous Pitchfork News articles about Broken Social Scene, each accompanied by my unwavering devotion to, well, "You Forgot it in People" anyway. In my (and Pitchfork's) defense, I think a lot of people agree the praise was warranted. And I thought the Arcade Fire deserved it as well. To an extent. This year however, the Clap Your Hands Say Yeah frenzy, still in its infancy, has gotten downright annoying.

Threfore, I hereby renounce hype. I repent my sins. How many hail marys, father?

Looking back, I think since the success of BSS, (and I know this sentiment is nothing new) Ryan has seemingly become obsessed with the idea that their real mission and obligation is to break a band per year. It's a very human emotion to thrive on that kind of power, but I think this time, it's gotten ridiculous.

I know, perhaps I'm blinded by rage because they're overshadowing "my band", but I feel very strongly that this time around, the hype is just not all that deserved, especially at the expense of a band with real musical chops, one that's done their time and earned respect. I've expressed my reservations about the National/Clap pairing to a few people. Knowing the hype would show no signs of abatement between now and September, I started to envision crowds streaming out of venues after Clap blows the roof off a packed bar, leaving The National with a sparse crowd. But you hope people are smarter than that.

I think we all need to step back, take a deep breath, and a careful listen. Remember that while talented, these guys are unsigned and have yet to pay their dues. I like their little record as much as the next guy, but it's nothing spectacular. Dare I say even a little grating in spots. Additonally, as a friend correctly noted, this is a lot of pressure to put on them.

...Full of grace...Blessed art thou amongst women...

All this hype has gotten deep under my skin like insulation fibers., culminating with this top contender for most ridiculous Pitchfork Hype news article ever. Released in Fox-news breaking fashion yesterday, it announced that for the second time in as many weeks, Clap! was looking for a label. Almost as afterthought, they appended the handful of announced tourdates (most likely courtesy of Tiny Mix Tapes, who ran the story earlier that morning).

This 8 paragraph ramble breaks new ground for pointless: Item! They're STILL shopping labels! Item! They're sure glad Insound is lending a hand. Item! They get e-mails! Some good, some bad. Item! David Bowie took in a show (now where have I heard that one before?).

I understand filler, to an extent. But this go-getter then managed to bury the real, actual news - their tour with The National - in the last paragraph. While I understand that this is not a story about The National (fully doubting they'll even run one), he actually takes a moment to describe them as ATMOSPHERIC BRITPOP. huh? Ok, so there are some vocal and lyrical parallels to Jarvis Cocker, but other than that, I'm definitely not hearing it, especially the atmospheric part. I know the gig don't pay well, kid. But for fuck's sake, do your homework. Download a track from their site maybe?

Update: Turns out they removed the "atmospheric Britpop" part. It's a start.

Pitchfork, Rob Kleckner, now here's your chance to be noble kings among the indie community's unwashed masses - acknowledge that, *ssshhh* the real excitement lies with the HEADLINER, this sleeper band you might have heard about in passing, you know, the one that seems to get really good reviews from your own site, as well as swooning accolades from others. Sure, you're not breaking them but what's really the key here? Channeling this unwritten message to the kids: "Now's your chance to peer down your nose, set down your Pabst bottle, tap an ash off your Parliament, and utter the cooler-than-thou response, 'oh yeah? (insert barely audible pshaw) well, I'M here to see The National'".

All in the Attitude

2005-07-11T11:10:00.000-06:00

I stayed up late to watch "Punk Attitude" on IFC the other night not because of the interviews with Jello Biafra or Henry Rollins, but because of Jim Jarmusch. (Total Jarmusch nut.) It's well worth an hour and a half of your life. And it will be re-broadcast three more times this month.

http://imdb.com/title/tt0446765/

http://www.ifctv.com/ifc/whatson?CAT0=45&MO=07&DA=09&YR=2005&TZ=ET&TB=4&DW=0&CLR=blue&BCLR=00A8EC&SID=53631

add: clap your hands

2005-07-08T13:46:00.000-06:00

And, furthermore, "Gimme Some Salt" is Byrne fronting Soul Coughing. This is a good record. But then Pfork already told you that.

Thoughts

2005-07-08T11:08:00.000-06:00

I liked Kinski better when they weren't trying to be a rock band.

Speaking of trying to be a rock band, what the hell happened to the Secret Machines? "000" was great. Must have been the <a href="http://www.perishablerecords.com/">Perishable</a> influence. [pun intended]

The Juan MacLean record still sux.

I have an extremely hard time getting over how much dude from Clap Your Hands Say Yeah sounds like David Byrne. But I love David Byrne. ("You look like David Bowie... I sound like David Byrne.")

Can Autechre do no wrong?

John Frusciante is brilliant. That cannot be said enough as far as I'm concerned. Plus, the word "brilliant" doesn't get thrown around as much as it should in reference to things I love. Oh wait...

The Evens are seriously giving Out Hud a run for my Best of '05 money.

Once you get over the raw distortion of the new Sleater-Kinney, it's a great fucking record. In fact, it is another in the string that sums to a stellar career. Thanks, ladies. I still can't decide whether "Dig Me Out" or "Hot Rock" is my fav, though.

Dalek eats all other rappers for breakfast.

The new Bob Drake is definitely worth writing home about.

Hey, fuck you, I like the new Need New Body, even if I too acknowledge that "UFO" and their first are better.

As Mary always says RE: Joy Division: "These guys were the masters". Mary's right.

Wearing out the grooves on Okkervil River's "For Real".

The first QOTSA is still the best QOTSA.

Haven't tired of the Wilderness yet.

I truly believe Sufjan Stevens can pull off his 50-state project and make each LP compelling. "Illinois" is beautiful.

2005-07-05T08:25:00.000-06:00

Sellout Watch

Iron and Wine's cover of the Postal Service's "Such Great Heights" for M&Ms.

Huh?

2005-06-20T23:59:00.000-06:00

Anybody see Billy Corgan on Letterman last night? I don't know about you but I liked it better when John Crawford was the brains behind Berlin. (Have you seen that VH1 reuniting-the-band thing? That show sorta ruled. But only when they weren't trying to lure Billy Idol out from his plastic surgeon's office...)

No, seriously, back to that performance... what's with the electrodrums? Fucking Jimmy Chamberlin could freebase that fag without even rolling over. And, anyway, Ryan Kidwell* playing Apple laptop behind him would have at least been compelling. It's not like Corgan is above collaborating with minor players. See: Courtney Love, Berlin ("Hey, that's weird!"), James Iha...

Oh, and, don't even get me started on the Chairman Mao getup...

I haven't bothered to listen to the record yet, but if that's what you lead with on national TV, it's going to the middle of the pack faster than Retief Goosen. Okay, Billy can riff and we've got to give him that.

* - Look, bro, he copped the "Heroes" cover before you anyway. You might as well give him some run...

2005-06-16T22:52:00.000-06:00

Quick Hits

Two things:

1. Miss At the Drive-In? I do. See: Bear Vs. Shark

2. Why does the new Juan McLean suck so bad? I dunno. But it's painfully boring. Maybe they should stick to twelves. Murphy?

2005-06-13T21:51:00.000-06:00

A thousand kids all Googling 'Saturn Return' at once

It's official, Billy Corgan's batshit.

"I Love Lorna Doones"

2005-06-08T12:26:00.000-06:00

... and I think I love the new Herman Dune [be sure to add umlauts later]. The imdb details the tagline to David Lynch's film of the <s>same</s> similar name thusly: "A world beyond your experience, beyond your imagination." I'm not sure what that has to do with the record, but I just thought another film reference was warranted. For Not on Top isn't a record that will shatter any terra firma -- pretty straightforward singer-songwriter folk fare, actually. Except, as I understand it, Herman is actually two... or three. So make that "singers-songwriters", if you please. Do I have a point? Will I describe the music beyond non-descriptors such as "straightforward" and, um, "fare"? Why bother? These are all questions swirling around my dome, so I can only imagine that the two of you who actually visit these parts must be playing a game of virtual roshambo to decide which of you will be stuck holding the dv8-reader flag going forward. Maybe it's the guitar sound. The spoke-sung delivery ala Dylan. Something. I just wish more records sounded like this and made me happy for having listened. [Did I just say that last sentence out loud? God, that's gay.]

Quick Hits

2005-06-06T12:17:00.000-06:00

A couple of quick takes on two records I heard for the first time lately:

Amusement Parks on Fire - self-titled - Good, inoffensive shoe-gazer for people who just can't get enough Swervedriver. [That's high praise, kiddos.]

Wilderness - self-titled - Public Image Ltd.-era John Lydon over Interpol-sanitized post-punk. When the gimmick wears thin to my ears, I'll likely tire of this album. In the meantime, I just can't quite get enough.

Stephen Malkmus - "Kindling for the Master" - I haven't heard his record. In fact, this morning was the first time I had heard even a snippet. Reading Pfork's review, I can't help but think we all really want to give Malk the benefit of the doubt. I know I do. But "Master" is a disaster. It brings to mind something I read recently about Bob Mould's new Body of Song "bridging the gap" between his Modulate electronic experiments and the hard rock/acoustic pop dynamic he worked in the late Huskers/Workbook-era of his career. Well, it doesn't do quite that exactly. And neither does this cut hit Pfork's proclamation that Malk has found his synth-niche. The question for me is, will Face the Truth become my Malk self-titled (early blandness replaced by melodic discovery) or my Pig Lib (early blandness replaced by total apathy)?

Sellout Watch

2005-06-01T12:26:00.000-06:00

<a href="http://lemonlickynubs.blogspot.com">Tree</a> passes these along:

War's "Why Can't We Be Friends?" (sniff) for XM Satellite Radio. If you've seen this one, maybe you can explain to me why the Orioles and Angels would be rivals.

I wondered the same thing myself.

The Who's "I'm Free" for, shit, I can't remember. I guess using a Who song isn't enough to make somebody take notice of the product anymore. You've probably sniffed this one out already.

I don't know that we did, but I think Tree makes a good point about Pete Townshend's push of the Who's back catalogue into the realm of irrelevance.

That said, you know who else is a big fucking Sellout? Me. That's right, I am. You know why? Because at some point you have to grow up and provide. Whether for yourself, your family, others... providing for means making money, removing yourself from your mother's tit, etc. I don't begrudge these artists and musicians their right to earn off of their own hard work. Just like they have no right to tell me that I should be utilizing my talents in some other fashion. They're providing for someone, their own retirement. Makes sense. Boo hoo, I wanted to be a fucking artist too. I'm not. Face facts, grow up, do what's right. At some point reality sets in. That's, for better or worse, where I exist: firmly entrenched in reality. Maybe that's where Pete's coming from as well. The rest of this stuff? It's a diversion, something to talk about, a way to kill time. But it ain't real.

2005-05-25T13:34:00.000-06:00

Bloc Party Part Deux: The Denver Experience, Gothic Theatre

Surley I have complained on these pages about my dismay with the typical Denver audience. Chatty, sullen, unenthusiastic...but let me say that it (as an entity) has completely redeemed itself over the past few months. Turnout has definitely gone up (save for Phoenix, but that's because no one knows how great they are yet. But they will, and anyway the sparse crowd made up for it in love) and so has general respect and enthusiasm.

Bloc Party kicked off the second leg of their US tour in Denver last night. It was a sellout that left people begging for tickets outside. Having seen them in Chicago in late March, I can say the difference between the two shows was almost night and day. While they essentially played the exact same set, (a short set at that, clocking in around 60 minutes) the energy on the part of the band AND the audience was astounding. Unlike Chicago, Kele seemed to be really enjoying himself: he barely wiped that enormous smile off his face for a second, he talked a lot to the crowd, and the sound was absolutely fantastic.

And most notably, unlike Chicago, the place was alive. Yes, this was a bring-the-house down kind of show. A fair chunk of the floor crowd was in full pogo mode, cheering wildly and even singing along at times, throughout the whole set. So I'm proud of my fellow Denverites - this is what a really great rock show is supposed to be, you know? It's safe to say the Bloc'll be back, but it's also safe to say they won't fit into the confines of the majestic Gothic Theatre.

2005-05-24T08:09:00.000-06:00

Ted & Kelly

This is what you might call a reverse sellout watch, or something.

I noticed a fairly well-buried item in Sunday's NYTimes about Ted Leo covering Kelly Clarkson's "Since You Been Gone," but it wasn't at all clear whether the track was available or in what format.

Evidently, there's been a frantic search by some parties, but eventually it came to light. Thanks to ugo.com and wholelottanothing.org we can now hear it in all its nasal glory.

Mammalries

2005-05-17T11:57:00.000-06:00

I dunno, a couple of weeks ago we were talking about memories of songs or memories of first having heard a tune or something like that/I dreamt it all/am making this up as we speak in order to have a stellar intro/etc... And so I jotted some stuff down about Janes Addiction -- oh yeah, that was it: the "Mountain Song" Sellout thing. Of course I remember the first time I heard Nothing's Shocking. It was like a cinder block from the 23rd floor to the head. And their look. I mean, that LOOK. I thought I was cool with androgeny at age whatever-I-was: Freshman in college (perhaps sophomore). And that album cover. I mean, that ALBUM COVER. In my buddy's dormroom (they're called "residence halls" where I went, but I didn't want to confuse you), he's all like, "dude, you gotta hear this new Jane's Addiction record I just got!" And I'm all like, "Who?" And he's all rolling his eyes like I should know and then I'm all like trying to figure out how I missed that issue of Spin. Then, as I stood there thinking I remembered a Rolling Stone-blurb circa their self-titled release (highly, highly underrated live album on the Triple X label), "Up the Beach" winds its way into "Ocean Size" and my socks: off. Knocked right the fuck off. (Though, for the sake of accuracy, it's highly likely I was wearing Chuck Taylors and, hence, no socks. Only tools wear socks with their Chucks. The summer stench is part of the punk. (HST forgiven this digression for the fact that he was old-school like Bob Cousy and, of course those guys from the 50s wore socks. Check your neighbor Mr. Jones next time he's pushing the electric lawn mover around. Socks.) And, the more I think about it: No! Of course I was wearing Chucks. White ones. Okay, yellowing ones. I mean, duh, I was underground, man.) Mad bong hits ensued. [You're expecting a paragraph break here (or much earlier). You're not getting one.] And so all of that reminds me and takes me back even further. Before I was punk. Just a punk. Little kid-like. It would have been the glorious summer of 1978 (they were all glorious then). The Rolling Stones had just released their Some Girls masterpiece (number, like, five or six) and I was nine years-old. We, the kids on the block (and back then there were tons -- like seven or eight within one year of each other), were busy building a tree house in the woods down by the creek behind my parents' house. Someone had a radio (transistor, I believe) and "Miss You" came on. The sun was going down. Okay, it was dark and we were all supposed to be home by then. But the platform had just been laid (the foundation of the tree house) and we were all up there about twelve feet off the ground enjoying the fruit of our labor when, bam, some Puerto Rican girls were just dyin' to meet us. I mean, that song flat out scared me. The eerie, dark blues-based disco, the red-light lyrics, Jagger's hushed delivery on the oohs and aahs (walkin' in Central Park)... just gave me chills. It still does. I love how music plays on memory and can, at its best and worst, elicit Pavlovian-like responses in the listener. When I hear "Miss You", I'm nine years old, dirty and dried-sweat, in the dying day of summer, spooked out of my skull by Mick Jagger, proud of my shared tree house accomplishment, wondering if I'm going to get my ass kicked for coming home... after dark.

2005-05-13T06:47:00.000-06:00

Sellout Watch:
Did we do this one? Blondie "One Way or Another" for Doritos. Strike Two, Debbie.

2005-05-11T22:03:00.000-06:00

Sellout Watch

Is it Pinback's turn in the sun? My buddy David reported two Pinback encounters this week that can be tied to the consumerist theme: first, he heard Fortress over the King Soopers' music system. Grocery Store "muzak" has certainly come a long way, hm? Then, tonight, he caught "AFK" pulsing through a Nintendo GameBoy ad. Not an hour later, I saw it myself.

Another catch I've been meaning to mention: John Sebastian's theme from "Welcome Back Kotter" is being used to get us excited about the return of...THE ORIGNAL FLAVOR OF MAALOX. I know you've been pining for that minty, chalky taste and the pruny-tongue sensation without the complications that come with lemon or cherry flavoring. Hallelujah.

2005-05-10T08:41:00.000-06:00

Sellout Watch

Madness indeed. In what's becoming the single most horrific trend in advertising, Maxwell House Coffee has taken "Our House" and rendered the lyrics into an unfortunate singalong about the preferred coffee at the firehouse.
Sing it with me: "Our house/Is always good-to-the-last-drop". Yeah, you gotta force it. Hurts, doesn't it? This is so horrible, it may take the lyric-changing honors from Applebee's.

2005-05-07T22:50:00.000-06:00

Sellout Watch:

OMG, Belinda, u bin served! Those playfully fruit-colored kiddos in that Old Navy spot run dere shit all up ovah your fountain-splashin tickle party from way back when. Holla.

2005-05-03T12:42:00.000-06:00

The National - Alligator
Beggars, 2005

There's so much to say about this album - I've been studying, taking mental and written notes for as long as it's been in my ears, but there's so much going on, I don't think I have the musical training to harness this beast. I'll try anyway. Alligator is not what I expected and I'm so glad. It's evident this group of musicians is growing creatively and honing their talent accordingly, with each album more intricate and mature than the last. I'm also not willing to say this album is better, because it's not - necessarily. But it is different enough that comparison is moot - each entry in their catalogue stands alone, but carries a shard of reflection of the last. After all, "Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers" comes as close to perfection as an album can. I'm not sure they can do anything at this point to change that.

On the whole, "Alligator" seems difficult to pin down, maybe because it's full of surprises, like unexpected chord changes, some octave jumping, and most notably, new vocal range for Matt Berninger. Almost every track breaks out of the signature baritone drone from past material. There's also a wide range of styles here, and I honestly cannot decide whether it's trying to find its niche, or if it's a haphazard mix that simply demonstrates all that The National has to offer. It took a while to occur to me what was really so strange about the album: but i finally realized it was the unconventional song structure. Rather than following the traditional verse-verse-chorus-verse-bridge-chorus formula, they've instead created what I can only refer to generically as three or four-part compositions, where a true chorus isn't entirely evident. Perhaps with better musical training, I could expound on the intricacies of these compositions, but alas, you'll just have to hear them for yourself.

Perhaps a hangover from all these new directions is the lack of real cohesion - but this isn't necessarily a bad thing. When you break down the tracks, you find a little of everything and an exhilarating mix at that. They build intrigue early on, most notably with the bizarre shouting and incomprehensible chorus on the opener, "Secret Meeting", which gives way to the incredibly vivid "Karen" (a prime example of their unconventional song structure). Topics are more varied here than on the more thematic "Sad Songs", from corporate-ladder anxiety to drunken bravado to soul-bearing attempts at redemption. Truth be told, their intensely colorful lyrical poetry, as much a signature of their work as the use of strings, walk that fine line between pretension and knee-weakening poetic verse.

There are the expected styles: "Baby We'll Be Fine" employs the trademark Americana shuffle that typecast them early on (while they haven't completely abandoned their roots, I doubt the Americana label will stick much longer). Padma Newsom's delicate violin on the brooding "Van Jester", the beautifully simple "Daughters of the Soho Riots", and the album's only previously released track, "All the Wine", could each find comfortable homes on their previous offerings.

And then there are the diversions, most notably three "anthemic" tracks. "Lit Up", which at first struck me as the weakest of the three, eventually managed to suck me in with its pacing, deep bass piano chords and layered, intricate guitar noodling. The second, "Abel", is a slick, Springsteen-esqe, super-charged, pedal-down exercise in exhilaration and doesn't stumble a bit. It's the peak of the record, winding you up the trek down the other side. The notstalgic "Mr. November", the third member of the anthemic trio, is the one that befuddles me a little. The simplicty and meaninglessness of its refrain, "I won't fuck us over/I'm Mr. November", is of sub-par quality for The National - dare I say cringeworthy. Yet, taken on the whole it's still somehow affecting, even a little exhilarating (notably in its final minute), and a pretty delicious closer. It sort of winks at you.

Certainly there are moments where the album stumbles a little. However, with every listen, just when I'm ready to brush off a song as one that perhaps should have been relegated to a B-side, I discover the hidden beauty and find myself waking with the song looping in my brain and hanging around for the better part of the morning. So I surrender. I've reached the end of my too-serious over-evaluation of this work. It's time to just enjoy it, and welcome it into my exclusive circle of oft-played albums. I can confidently say that we won't know what Alligator means in terms of their body of work past and future, (The turning point? A collection of attempts at new direction? A Masterpiece?) until the next record, but with this additon I'm thrilled to have such a remarkable catalog from which to choose whenever I need a National fix.

Waits

2005-04-25T10:40:00.000-06:00

Reverse Sellout Watch:

Seems as though General Motors' Opel unit didn't like taking 'no' for an answer when they asked Tom Waits if they could use him to sell their crappy little cars in Europe. So they went ahead and used him anyway.

"If I stole an Opel, Lancia, or Audi, put my name on it and resold it, I'd go to jail. But over there they ask, you say no, and they hire impersonators. They profit from the association and I lose -- time, money, and credibility. What's that about?"

TMT has the scoop.

2005-04-23T18:45:00.000-06:00

Sellout Watch

Cute. Harry Nilsson's "Coconut" for Coca-Cola with Lime. Something I imagine has a taste akin to, hmm...Pine Sol. Actually, I'm not willing to find out.

2005-04-21T21:34:00.000-06:00

Sellout Watch:

"Rocky Mountain High" for Coors. How obvious and sadly fitting. Pete Coors tells us he looks out the window of his beer factory office and sees the very scene he is trudging through on snowshoes. Don't believe him. F the estate of John Denver.

2005-04-18T07:49:00.000-06:00

Sellout Watch

The The's "This is the Day" for Dockers. But it doesn't sound like Matt Johnson is singing.

This is the day I decide to buy some really lame pants because a TV commercial told me to. Although the idea of pants that you can just pour ketchup and beer and oil on and still look like you came fresh out of the laundry room is kind of appealing, if a little sinister.

The notion of a commercial for pants gets weirder and weirder the more I think about it.

2005-04-15T09:35:00.000-06:00

Phoenix, Bluebird Theatre, 4/14/05

This is why I suffer through a workday on 4 hrs of sleep.
This is why I force myself out of the house on a weeknight at 10pm.
Because the residual energy from this experience will get me through today, no question. If only every rock show could be this incredible.

The show started off at the top with "Too Young", and then segued into "Victim of the Crime" (my two personal favs). Then on to "Run Run Run"...They replicate their studio sound quite well, but I think a live experince is more memorable when there's a degree of restructuring and improvisation involved. That almost goes without saying, but I can't help but contrast it with Bloc Party - who played a pristine set, but without deviation from the album whatsoever.

The crowd was a bit sparse, but enthusiastically boogying nonetheless. Had it been a slightly fuller audience, I believe I'd be telling you how they brought down the house with their mindblowing rendition of "Funky Squaredance" (they've shed the morbid shuffle portion from the album version, and it's really not missed). It might be the 2nd cheesiest song in their repertoire, but my god. Anyone who'd call these guys lightweight or sleepy needs to see them live. They completely tore it up, "band antics" (put your hands in the air!!) and all.

"If I Ever Feel Better" closed out the unfortunately short set, nearly transforming the dark and sleepy Bluebird into a EuroDisco. The encore consisted of a slow, acoustic version of "Everything is Everything" (played earlier in its tradtional format), with only the singer and lead guitarist on stage. After that, the rest of the band returned to the stage to play the second of two new songs, called "Jetplane". Watch for that one, it's incredible.

Undoubtedly the best show I've seen this year. I only wish I had better pictures to remember it by (stupid camera).

2005-04-14T19:55:00.000-06:00

Sellout Watch:

Salt and Pepa's "Push It" makes another appearance, this time for GM and OnStar.

Cingular continues its coast-to-coast campaign with The Allman Brothers' "Melissa".

And this one took me by surprise, but only just a little..."Mountain Song" for Coors Light.

Excuse me while I go off on a tangent:
I guess use of the Jane's Addiction "classic" surprised me because it was a break from the common practice (carefully documented on these pages) of using fairly new indie rock or canonized classic rock. Where does "Mountain Song" belong? Has it entered the canon of indie rock? I referred to it above as a classic. But is it? Too soon?

About a month ago I resurrected Nothing's Shocking (for as pivotal as it was in my formative years, it's inexplicable why I never bought it on CD. It was always a tape for me; in fact, a long pause is almost obligatory between "Standing in the Shower..." and "Summertime Rolls"). I can remember the first time i heard it, seeping out of my friend's basement, while her older brother tried to play his drums along with the album's opener. I was blown away. I don't think 24hrs had passed before I had a copy in my hot little hands. It sounded like nothing before it (or did it and I just didn't know it? Being in 8th grade at the time, it's entirely possible) yet it hasn't received the accolades that the younger Nevermind has. I'd still contend that Nothing's Shocking was well before its time, and perhaps that's why - but does it have to be a Coors ad that brings a new found appreciation for it?

2005-04-11T12:18:00.000-06:00

Exegesis

The New Musical Express is reporting that the new White Stripes album is to be called Get Behind Me Satan, and that it will be released on June 7.

Whatever.

Let's talk about that title for a second, shall we, because there are a couple of things wrong with it. First of all, that should be Get THEE Behind Me Satan. The phrase appears in three of the four gospels, Matthew, Mark and Luke. In Luke, Jesus is tempted by Satan with all the riches of the world if Jesus will only follow Satan,renounce goodness and serve evil. Jesus sends him packing. In Matthew and Mark, Jesus uses the same phrase to rebuke Simon Peter (The Rock, by the way) for trying to dissuade Jesus from going to Jerusalem and fulfilling the prophecy that he would die and be born again. You probably know at least one of these stories already.

Second of all, that's Get THEE Behind Me COMMA Satan, because the direct address to Satan deploys the vocative case. So "Hey you" should rightly be "Hey, you." "What are you doing New Year's Eve" is fine, because you're not talking to New Year's Eve, unless the person you're talking to is named Eve, in which case you'd say, "What are you doing New Year's, Eve," and most likely get a slap in the face for your trouble.

I'm no Eats, Shoots and Leaves disciple by any means, but I just felt compelled to point out that while Jack White may or may not be the savior of Rock and/or Roll (I'm voting No in that referendum, by the way), he's certainly no lover either of the scriptures or correct grammatical usage. Perhaps he is the devil in disguise. Perhaps he just digs the Old Testament.

2005-04-05T11:39:00.000-06:00

So I saw Bloc Party the other day. Kele got leid and I have a picture to prove it.

I got myself on a plane and headed for Chicago. It all worked out quite well, as I have family just outside of Chicago whom I'd been promising to visit. It was the perfect short vacation, really: time with my very cool cousins and uncle, some walking around alone time in one of my favorite cities, and a killer show in the company of one of my closest friends in the whole world. Gushy, I know but it framed the whole experience for me.

Ok, so Bloc Party. We pulled up to the Metro to see a huge bus parked out front, shades drawn. I realized right there how lucky I was - that this type of venue (not a bar, but not cavernous hall or amphitheater either) is not long for this band. Even though no one I talk to really seems to know who they are, they've clearly hit the big time. I hear a Letterman appearance is scheduled for the 6th of April.

Superstardom clue number two: the Bloc has a guy to tune their instruments, set out towels, water, and tape down set lists. As this loyal stagehand worked to make sure the boys had all the creature comforts for an hour plus on stage within easy reach, the swelling crowd was treated to some M.I.A. on the soundsystem. Me, I sipped rum and cokes that tasted like Bazooka gum and jockeyed for position in the balcony to take what would be over 150 really lousy photos. I'm almost sorry I spent so much time on the task; this review might be more insightful had I paid less attention to my camera.

What was really great about the show was the mix of tracks. While it was to be expected that the show would be heavy on Silent Alarm tracks, they added a good balance of earlier stuff as well. Undeniably, it was the show's ultimate closer, a blistering rendition of "The Answer" that made my evening.

Unfortunately, Chicago hadn't received the memo that dancing is now officially sanctioned indie crowd behavior. But us out-of-towners did and took full advantage of our freedom. Whatever keeps 600+ people so stiff during a song like "Banquet" is beyond my understanding. To each his own, but this was ridiculous. But I digress.

Overall, it was a fantastic show, with few surprises. Their sound was tight, their talent not a figment of your imagination or a producer's mastery of the knobs. They appeared to be enjoying themselves, but also with a hint of "going through the motions". Perhaps they're tired, or as I've argued before, they don't quite know what has hit them.

Setlist:
Like Eating Glass
Positive Tension
Banquet
This Modern Love
The Marshalls are Dead
Tulips
She's Hearing Voices
Helicopter
Little Thoughts

Encore
So Here We Are
The Price of Gas
Staying Fat
The Answer

2005-03-31T17:18:00.000-07:00

How many heads do you think this went over?

I was eating lunch at an Irish Pub kinda place this afternoon, and they had Jeopardy on the TV. In fact, they even turned off the music so the regulars at the bar could play along (badly). Anyway, second round, second-to-last category: "She's Lost Control". Last category: "Joy Division". Seriously. Unfortunately, or not surprisingly, none of the questions or answers featured the band. Rather, the former category consisted of references to films about mentally ill women, and the latter, books with the word Joy in them.

But you know someone in development knows what's up.

Louie Louie

2005-03-30T16:43:00.000-07:00

How dare you use the fucking word ‘secret’! Secret implies a subtlety of which you cannot even begin to comprehend!

So Nick Sylvester’s brilliant Louis XIV review has inspired me to come out of my shell and drop a brief post on this tripe that all the stupid kids are wetting their pants over these days. (Yeah, you heard me.) Something I’ve been meaning to do since I wasted about an hour and a half of my life listening to The Best Little Secrets Are Kept a few times. It brings to mind a quote my good buddy Ken uttered while witnessing the three-chord stupidity of a bar band from Scandinavia one time: “What? Did they just get AC/DC records in Sweden?” Paraphrased for these purposes into: What? Did they just get T. Rex albums in San Diego?

Misogyny aside (‘cuz you’d be right, wouldn’t you, if you said, “B-b-but, Kev, you like bad 80s heavy metal and good 80s old-school rap and if those genres aren’t misogynist, then what is?”), allow me to take down this shitheap of a band based on the music alone. As it were scribbled in my notebook, disjointed and all over the map, but not without a point:

Not... enough... handclaps. Never enough, by my calculation – there were at least one or two cuts herein that didn’t utilize those rhythmic palms to accentuate the beat. What a fucking waste of lithe fingers and moisturized skin.

Just what America needs: another whiteboy garage blues band with devil-may-care “attitude”. Add in a little faux-glam – spoken-sung lyrics ala Marc Bolan or Lou Reed and well-placed ivory-tickling (THAT oughta help do the trick) – and you’ve got sophistication, baby, that makes it palatable to choke down lyrics such as, “We don’t need to take off our clothes to get it on/ Pull your skirt up a little bit/ Pull down your top and show me a little tit/ I said, hey short girl, you’re like a midget/ You can turn a phone cord into a widget“. (This, after having the nerve, the fucking nerve, to kick off the cut with: “Bang a gong/ Get it on”.)

Hey, it’s fun! And isn’t music supposed to be fun??! Get over yourself hipster. Let down your guard and just dance to it!

Quite simply, this is young and dumb music for the young and dumb (or, those at heart). It’s the aural equivalent of a fumbled attempt at the bra strap or a Cliffs Notes-plagiarized book report from your sophomore year in high school. If I were 14 years old again, I’d have posters of these poseurs on my walls. I’d be applying eyeliner along to the handclaps. I’d be bouncing up and down on my bed to “Cosmic Dancer” like that kid in Billy Elliot. Except, only, I would’ve never heard of T. Rex, or glam, or known that it was cool for a boy to wear eyeliner. And that’s just where the assholes from Louis XIV want you. In the same sphere of ignorance they pretend to come from. Well, you ain’t foolin’ me, bubba, with your everything-old-is-new-again bullshit. Your banality as art, in-joke pose doesn’t cut it anymore. I am on to your three-chord monte (to cop a Pegboy pun). This is grand larceny of the highest order – punishable by death in most countries.

This prick, this frontman, Jason Hill, didn’t he somewhere along the line claim that those who would compare his act to T. Rex have never even heard T. Rex? Oh, yes he did. Well, I got news for you, Chachi, it’s clear that you have heard T. Rex and have done nothing more than sprinkle liberal doses of Bolan mimes throughout the grooves of this waste of wax. For insulting the intelligence of anyone who would criticize your pap, for insulting me, I will kick your mascara-streaked ass the next time you come to my town. Either that, or I’ll finish this diatribe (facts, all of it) and forget you exist for the rest of my life. Most likely the latter, since daddy don’t do “behind bars”.

You see, there’s nothing new here -- just a tired collection of yesteryear fashion and ham-handed poses cobbled together by four talentless AC/DC fans from San Diego. Dude, Bon Scott would’ve stuck these kids in a blender, drank ‘em for breakfast, threw ‘em up on David Bowie’s loafers and neither would’ve batted an eye (lined or otherwise). And I’ll waste my precious time on any of the aforementioned burglarized acts (or the Stones, or Jack White, et al) before I’ll ever waste another second on this warmed over fake-accented slag.

Please, PEOPLE, so-called music-lovers of the world, I implore you: Say no – no, Just Say No -- to banality and banality will go away. Ignore your Killers, your Kaiser Chiefs and your Louies and they will go away. And in this glorious moment at some point in the near future, banality will be banished from the record bins. And don’t worry about banality, don’t shed it another tear, it will still find a good home in Hollywood or Studio City. Believe me, banality will never have had it so good.

2005-03-23T12:38:00.000-07:00

There's a nice run-down of Clogs in Pitchfork today (in case you missed it, what with all the front-page reshuffling going on). This is a band definitely worth checking out. I recently gave "Stick Music" a listen and it's stunning. Think being lost in a forest, but fearlessly. I can't help but think someone needs to build a film around this. But don't take my word for it. David Raposa (who also authored the profile) has a fine review here.

Not surprisingly, I was drawn in by the connection to The National: their lead guitarist Bryce Dessner and indispensible contributor Padma Newsome make up half of Clogs' talented roster. Padma's swishy, breathy, violin and viola(?) accompaniments (as well as vocals on the closing track) are among the most wonderful things about the "Cherry Tree" EP. He also contributed to 2003's "Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers" and the forthcoming "Alligator", and will be touring with The National this year.

In looking into some of Padma's other compositions and contributions, I was led to Australia's The Devastations. Newsome's site lists arrangement of their upcoming release as one of his current projects. I'm unclear whether he had anything to do with their self-titled debut (there is a lot of violin, however), but Padma or not, damn it's gorgeous. It's a mellow waltz of an album that reminds me a little of Sin Ropas sans the quirky experimentation. There's a good share of MP3s on their site under "Releases". I urge you to give them a listen.

2005-03-17T23:59:00.000-07:00

Sellout Watch:

James Brown, "Superbad", Mountain Dew. Ew.