Atlas Sound—Let The Blind Lead Those who can see but Cannot Feel” (Kranky, 2008)
There is something to be said for being too nice to pull off ambition. For “Let the Blind Lead Those who can see but Cannot Feel,” that’s mostly a good thing—the title is a good glimpse of the type of silliness Deerhunter lead singer Bradford James Cox can veer into, especially with no band to hold back his whimsies. But that Cox has such a good head for arrangements and records such a pretty album that his straining doesn’t undo the core.
His album opener is built around a child telling “A Ghost Story” and the slight narrative becomes a warm, reverberating fable. In the hands of a band like The Books, the sample would have likely been a sparse and morose, but Cox ends up treating the kid with surprising tenderness.
Likewise, reading his interview with Pitchfork makes the songs less interesting, not more. The themes behind are usually moments of poetic suffering, but little of that comes through—“Winter Vacation” is easier to enjoy if you just accept it as a Sigur Ros rip-off; “Cold as Ice” is a jaunty David Byrne loop rolling along with Cox’s endlessly washed voice, and he could just as likely be singing about his favorite Foreigner songs as some adolescent romantic humiliation.
Still, all the songs are enveloping, all reward headphones or good speakers, and all follow the inexorable logic of dance music, succeeding through emotional tones rather than concept. That may be best shown on “Scraping Past,” where Cox works from the same aesthetic that Matthew Dear does, using the title as a looped wash over a plucky glitch backbeat and a simple two-note bassline. Instead of developing the melodies, he mixes them to develop the song, which gives the song a simple propulsiveness that might have otherwise spiraled into twee jetties.
If “Let the Blind Lead Those who can see but Cannot Feel” had achieved the depth that Cox seemed to want, the album would have been a slog. Thank God Cox realized the shallow pleasure of listening to music, and made a good album rather than a “great” one.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
America's next what the fuck, TV?
New cycle of America's Next Top Mongol!
Kim's, like, considered totally dumb or something, but she's really just deaf.
And OMG, PUNK ROCK CHICK IS GIVIN' 'EM HER BACK! SHE'S A FUCKING NIHILIST, MAN, AND YOU'RE JUST GONNA DEAL WITH IT!
I love this show. It is the number one assault on reality in America, the sort of shit that Warren Ellis only fucking dreams about. There is nothing that isn't rendered in the most explosive, expressionistic way possible.
And I love the beats behind it, this unceasing emotional narrative that's propulsive like the score to a musical. That may be the best comparison—the reality show as '50s musical.
But oh shit, they're gettin' thirsty over breastmilk what the fuck?
Kim's, like, considered totally dumb or something, but she's really just deaf.
And OMG, PUNK ROCK CHICK IS GIVIN' 'EM HER BACK! SHE'S A FUCKING NIHILIST, MAN, AND YOU'RE JUST GONNA DEAL WITH IT!
I love this show. It is the number one assault on reality in America, the sort of shit that Warren Ellis only fucking dreams about. There is nothing that isn't rendered in the most explosive, expressionistic way possible.
And I love the beats behind it, this unceasing emotional narrative that's propulsive like the score to a musical. That may be the best comparison—the reality show as '50s musical.
But oh shit, they're gettin' thirsty over breastmilk what the fuck?
Monday, February 18, 2008
THERE WILL BE BLOOD
The core of There Will Be Blood should be readily apparent to anyone who loves metal, especially the epic drone metal of bands like Sun 0)))), Sleep or Om. It is long, concerned primarily with evil, and heavy.
In There Will Be Blood, there is only one character—the rumbling bass note of Daniel Day Lewis's Daniel Plainview, an oil prospector who is more a force than a man. He is not particularly reflective, and the film only gives him two foils to communicate with, and both are removed abruptly.
He is black, oily and essentially simple. For all the praise that Daniel Day-Lewis has received, most of it has been deceiving, given over to the size of the character he portrays (the Onion AV Club note on "Big Acting" is particularly dead on) rather than noticing that he gets some surprisingly subtle moments out of a lumbering beast of a film. While generally, he's just acting the living fuck out of the movie, acting with great effort and attendant bombast and bellow, he's able to draw humor out of his humiliation at the hands of an Evangelical. Conversely, the intensity that he puts into "I DRINK YOUR MILKSHAKE!" makes it as "scary" as Venom's protestations that they are truly evil, in league with Satan.
Add that to Anderson's juggernaut direction, which emphasizes an unresolved and ever mounting tension, spurred on by Plainview's drinking and alienation, and it has the feeling of a particularly turgid metal opera. To strain the metaphor only slightly further for increased accuracy—set that metal opera in Deadwood and you have There Will Be Blood exactly.
Which isn't to say that it's bad, because it's not. It's just unabashedly portentous while being nihilistic about what it portends, and it's interesting to me that this is treated seriously when a lot of metal isn't. It has the same technical virtuosity, the same aesthetic power, the same mythological vocabulary, the same moral fixations (there is arguably nothing more moral than nihilistic art). And this movie is up for the picture of the year, while Pelican's City of Echoes is ignored at the Grammy's?
Where I have to abandon this point is that, like City of Echoes, I didn't enjoy There Will Be Blood all that much. I thought both were interesting, and I'm glad that they exist, and I can put each in its genre context, but they're things that I'd like to think about, rather than experience again. I would urge anyone reading this to see There Will Be Blood on the big screen—I would have abandoned it about ten minutes in on a small screen. But then, metal's better live, innit?
In There Will Be Blood, there is only one character—the rumbling bass note of Daniel Day Lewis's Daniel Plainview, an oil prospector who is more a force than a man. He is not particularly reflective, and the film only gives him two foils to communicate with, and both are removed abruptly.
He is black, oily and essentially simple. For all the praise that Daniel Day-Lewis has received, most of it has been deceiving, given over to the size of the character he portrays (the Onion AV Club note on "Big Acting" is particularly dead on) rather than noticing that he gets some surprisingly subtle moments out of a lumbering beast of a film. While generally, he's just acting the living fuck out of the movie, acting with great effort and attendant bombast and bellow, he's able to draw humor out of his humiliation at the hands of an Evangelical. Conversely, the intensity that he puts into "I DRINK YOUR MILKSHAKE!" makes it as "scary" as Venom's protestations that they are truly evil, in league with Satan.
Add that to Anderson's juggernaut direction, which emphasizes an unresolved and ever mounting tension, spurred on by Plainview's drinking and alienation, and it has the feeling of a particularly turgid metal opera. To strain the metaphor only slightly further for increased accuracy—set that metal opera in Deadwood and you have There Will Be Blood exactly.
Which isn't to say that it's bad, because it's not. It's just unabashedly portentous while being nihilistic about what it portends, and it's interesting to me that this is treated seriously when a lot of metal isn't. It has the same technical virtuosity, the same aesthetic power, the same mythological vocabulary, the same moral fixations (there is arguably nothing more moral than nihilistic art). And this movie is up for the picture of the year, while Pelican's City of Echoes is ignored at the Grammy's?
Where I have to abandon this point is that, like City of Echoes, I didn't enjoy There Will Be Blood all that much. I thought both were interesting, and I'm glad that they exist, and I can put each in its genre context, but they're things that I'd like to think about, rather than experience again. I would urge anyone reading this to see There Will Be Blood on the big screen—I would have abandoned it about ten minutes in on a small screen. But then, metal's better live, innit?
So fucking hip
In upping my hipster quotient, I went and saw a show at Shepard Fairey's print shop in a weird downtown warehouse district.
Playing were Crystal Antlers, Wooden Shjips and Darker My Love.
I've been on this mission to hear Crystal Antlers for, like, a couple months now. My coworker Phil is their erstwhile manager, and he gave me an EP of theirs that I really dug—they sound like Comets on Fire meet Funhouse-era Stooges. So, since then, he's put on a half-dozen shows, and through a combination of me being old, miscommunication and just bad luck, I've managed to miss them every time. Like, I either show up too late, or can't stay late enough, or end up at a different show on the same night… whatever. I missed Crystal Antlers AGAIN. I thought they were headlining, when Darker My Love was.
But Wooden Shjips were awesome—just that loose, casual, four-note groove behind all of their space rock, I really dig it. And Darker My Love was OK. They were more a Jesus and Mary Chain rip, which is cool, because Wooden Shjips are a Spaceman 3 rip, and I like JAMC.
I picked up two Crystal Antlers 7"s though, and both are pretty good. "Parting Song for Torn Sky" is the lead-off on the EP that I've got, and when I heard it I mentioned that it sounded like Blue Cheer done right (I've always been kinda disappointed by Blue Cheer's inability to balance their awesome riffs with their experimentation), and Phil had no idea who I was talking about, but the band thanks Blue Cheer on their cover of Mose Allison's Parchman Farm. **EDIT**—Phil knew who I was talking about, but I guess I didn't think he did or something. He just didn't want them compared to Blue Cheer—which I still kinda think is funny, because the band mentions 'em. But I didn't mean to make Phil come off as a dumbass!**
Plus, that one's on clear vinyl!
Playing were Crystal Antlers, Wooden Shjips and Darker My Love.
I've been on this mission to hear Crystal Antlers for, like, a couple months now. My coworker Phil is their erstwhile manager, and he gave me an EP of theirs that I really dug—they sound like Comets on Fire meet Funhouse-era Stooges. So, since then, he's put on a half-dozen shows, and through a combination of me being old, miscommunication and just bad luck, I've managed to miss them every time. Like, I either show up too late, or can't stay late enough, or end up at a different show on the same night… whatever. I missed Crystal Antlers AGAIN. I thought they were headlining, when Darker My Love was.
But Wooden Shjips were awesome—just that loose, casual, four-note groove behind all of their space rock, I really dig it. And Darker My Love was OK. They were more a Jesus and Mary Chain rip, which is cool, because Wooden Shjips are a Spaceman 3 rip, and I like JAMC.
I picked up two Crystal Antlers 7"s though, and both are pretty good. "Parting Song for Torn Sky" is the lead-off on the EP that I've got, and when I heard it I mentioned that it sounded like Blue Cheer done right (I've always been kinda disappointed by Blue Cheer's inability to balance their awesome riffs with their experimentation), and Phil had no idea who I was talking about, but the band thanks Blue Cheer on their cover of Mose Allison's Parchman Farm. **EDIT**—Phil knew who I was talking about, but I guess I didn't think he did or something. He just didn't want them compared to Blue Cheer—which I still kinda think is funny, because the band mentions 'em. But I didn't mean to make Phil come off as a dumbass!**
Plus, that one's on clear vinyl!
Saturday, February 02, 2008
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Political decision making
For me, the most interesting issue regarding how I decide what to support on a ballot is California's Proposition 93.
This bill is a structural one, rejiggering the term limits for California state legislators. It is, theoretically, party neutral. It lacks the confounders of big money or most serious religious or ideological involvements. It's not a proposal that relies on fundamental assumptions about race or gender or privilege.
With term limits, there are certain inherent arguments that should theoretically be testable. It's not just that term limits help us avoid career politicians, the stated argument, but that career politicians are de facto bad, and that they are bad because they are undemocratic and form themselves into an elite class which makes them poor judges of public good. If men are best at serving themselves first, we should endeavor to keep them as like us as possible, to ensure the best service.
Because this is largely a non-partisan question, and because the legislation has limited remit, it should be easier to agree on goals for legislators—they should be effective, or able to review and pass legislation that is needed; they should be adept, or able to pass legislation that withstands scrutiny from judicial review; they should be conservative, and pass as little new law as possible; they should be representative, and come from a broad array of backgrounds.
I should, here, say that these are simply my back-of-notebook criteria. And they've certainly been influenced by what I've read around 93, if I might clumsily segue.
I started by reading the Secretary of State's voting guide. Aside from the Yes/No synopsis, which I found kind of confusing until I read the actual law, there are two arguments from the Pro/Con PACs. The Con, from California Term Limits Defense Fund's Bob Adney, is basically that this is a boondoggle supported by current politicians to extend their terms.
And he's right. This would start the clock over for politicians serving now, so they could go over their 14 year limit currently enshrined. That's an obvious incentive to support it for serving pols.
But, aside from some serious disagreements with my government—I deplore some of the copyright and electronic surveillance that has been ayed by Dems here in California—I generally like the folks that are in. I think Villaraigosa's a machine-made boss, but I don't really mind that he supports this as a sop to his state congressional backers. And in the future, the proposal would actually lead to shorter term limits.
Then there are the questions raised about how effective the current term limits are in promoting the good governance outlined above. Prop 93 started with this study, from the Public Policy Institute of California.
First off, they went with assumptions like that more diverse representation, closer to the demographic makeup of California, is a good that should be pursued. I'm mildly favorable to this point, as it is another facet of the fundamental Red vs. Expert debate inherent in term limit arguments. The good of having democracy/ideology/identity conflicts with the good of expertise, as came up again and again in the USSR and PRC (hence the shorthand "Red vs. Expert"). But while I'm normally nominally on the side of the expert in most things, especially within the executive branch, congresses are populist institutions. As term limits facilitate a reasonable level of pro-democratic reform, I'm OK with that so long as the decrease in expertise can be mitigated.
The study by the PPIC found that the current term limit regime wasn't doing that—they found worse oversight, less effectiveness, more susceptibility to outside lobbyists. It also found that since most congress members come from and proceed to other elected offices, that term limits had no real effect regarding career politicians.
I haven't gone through the entire study yet, to see their methodology, but I trust their conclusions, which brings me to the third part of making a decision: checking the sources. By looking at the front pages of the websites pro and con, I gave 'em about equal credence—they were both professional, they both made shallow, emotional appeals. But the Term Limits Reform (or Yes) folks linked to the PPIC site, and along with having the study upon which 93 was based, they also listed their funders. Both Term Limits Reform and Stop the Politicians vaguely list their PAC backers, but TLR does so more transparently.
Sourcewatch.org didn't have any info on either of the sides, but I have to say that my confidence in Sourcewatch has declined now that I see they're a public wiki.
My initial reaction, upon seeing the proposal, was to vote against it because I'm reflexively against career politicians. But noting that term limits haven't impacted that here, and that the current structure is counter-productive to the legislative goals that I feel are important, and because I feel like I can trust the study's veracity, I'm going to vote for California Proposition 93.
This bill is a structural one, rejiggering the term limits for California state legislators. It is, theoretically, party neutral. It lacks the confounders of big money or most serious religious or ideological involvements. It's not a proposal that relies on fundamental assumptions about race or gender or privilege.
With term limits, there are certain inherent arguments that should theoretically be testable. It's not just that term limits help us avoid career politicians, the stated argument, but that career politicians are de facto bad, and that they are bad because they are undemocratic and form themselves into an elite class which makes them poor judges of public good. If men are best at serving themselves first, we should endeavor to keep them as like us as possible, to ensure the best service.
Because this is largely a non-partisan question, and because the legislation has limited remit, it should be easier to agree on goals for legislators—they should be effective, or able to review and pass legislation that is needed; they should be adept, or able to pass legislation that withstands scrutiny from judicial review; they should be conservative, and pass as little new law as possible; they should be representative, and come from a broad array of backgrounds.
I should, here, say that these are simply my back-of-notebook criteria. And they've certainly been influenced by what I've read around 93, if I might clumsily segue.
I started by reading the Secretary of State's voting guide. Aside from the Yes/No synopsis, which I found kind of confusing until I read the actual law, there are two arguments from the Pro/Con PACs. The Con, from California Term Limits Defense Fund's Bob Adney, is basically that this is a boondoggle supported by current politicians to extend their terms.
And he's right. This would start the clock over for politicians serving now, so they could go over their 14 year limit currently enshrined. That's an obvious incentive to support it for serving pols.
But, aside from some serious disagreements with my government—I deplore some of the copyright and electronic surveillance that has been ayed by Dems here in California—I generally like the folks that are in. I think Villaraigosa's a machine-made boss, but I don't really mind that he supports this as a sop to his state congressional backers. And in the future, the proposal would actually lead to shorter term limits.
Then there are the questions raised about how effective the current term limits are in promoting the good governance outlined above. Prop 93 started with this study, from the Public Policy Institute of California.
First off, they went with assumptions like that more diverse representation, closer to the demographic makeup of California, is a good that should be pursued. I'm mildly favorable to this point, as it is another facet of the fundamental Red vs. Expert debate inherent in term limit arguments. The good of having democracy/ideology/identity conflicts with the good of expertise, as came up again and again in the USSR and PRC (hence the shorthand "Red vs. Expert"). But while I'm normally nominally on the side of the expert in most things, especially within the executive branch, congresses are populist institutions. As term limits facilitate a reasonable level of pro-democratic reform, I'm OK with that so long as the decrease in expertise can be mitigated.
The study by the PPIC found that the current term limit regime wasn't doing that—they found worse oversight, less effectiveness, more susceptibility to outside lobbyists. It also found that since most congress members come from and proceed to other elected offices, that term limits had no real effect regarding career politicians.
I haven't gone through the entire study yet, to see their methodology, but I trust their conclusions, which brings me to the third part of making a decision: checking the sources. By looking at the front pages of the websites pro and con, I gave 'em about equal credence—they were both professional, they both made shallow, emotional appeals. But the Term Limits Reform (or Yes) folks linked to the PPIC site, and along with having the study upon which 93 was based, they also listed their funders. Both Term Limits Reform and Stop the Politicians vaguely list their PAC backers, but TLR does so more transparently.
Sourcewatch.org didn't have any info on either of the sides, but I have to say that my confidence in Sourcewatch has declined now that I see they're a public wiki.
My initial reaction, upon seeing the proposal, was to vote against it because I'm reflexively against career politicians. But noting that term limits haven't impacted that here, and that the current structure is counter-productive to the legislative goals that I feel are important, and because I feel like I can trust the study's veracity, I'm going to vote for California Proposition 93.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Deleted!
Being either too cheap or too lazy to finally get the right connector card for my old ass Mac, and running just over 100 gig of music, I need to get rid of stuff I don't like, but keep a record of it so I don't download it again.
This comp, called "Tokyo New Wave '79!" with some gobbledy-gook metadata ("TV∞C™[∞W™[ 3:52 SEX „‘—ı∞j∞∑™[∞E∞F™[∞u'79 1/15/08 6:52 PM Rock 128 kbps 1 1979") all sounds like a buncha crummily-recorded Japanese punks, in a bad way. No hooks, terrible mush.
This comp, called "Tokyo New Wave '79!" with some gobbledy-gook metadata ("TV∞C™[∞W™[ 3:52 SEX „‘—ı∞j∞∑™[∞E∞F™[∞u'79 1/15/08 6:52 PM Rock 128 kbps 1 1979") all sounds like a buncha crummily-recorded Japanese punks, in a bad way. No hooks, terrible mush.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Show notes
First band—no name. Forced? Post-nuggets. Hlaway through set.
This is the Detroit I miss. They could be any number of opening bands for the sights or SRC or Dirtbombs or Come Ons or Paybackds or Wackswings. Sharp power pop. Lead signer looks like Jason Schwartzman without nose.
--
The Makeout Party:
Bassist looks like a yearbook photo from 1982. Poodle.
Charming twee punk. Elvis Costello. Remind me of Rants.
Trebbly and bouncy. C86? Listen. Ramones if they wanted to meet your parents. Richman—later Richman. Pop Project too.
--
Non-ironic call for birthday suits in banter. Mic out oh no!
n Sound like the Jame without any punk attitude. No Tube Station. Or unrestUnrest.
“Not political, but that’s like complaining about the lack of tits on a horse.”
--
We’re on song five, I think. OK, but the first band was better. It’s a flurry of upfront dancing, like the high school everyone imagines after they know what hip is.
--The soft, sensitive vocals give the impression, tied up with the previous note, that they’re playing at being younger than they are, like Saved By The Bell actors.
--All in pants so tight, ‘70s tight, but the bassist is the only one with a sizable cock showing. Explains his pinched banter voice though. Sounds like Emo Phillips. Gets the girls dancing though.
--Wish they had a lead guitar.
--Then they say “we haven’t played it in foreverver—inagoddadavida!” and launch into a stop-start guitar part with verve and they’re fucking on! Then it ends.
Raspberry
--The girl with the camera only wants photos of the bassist.
--Teenbeat! Tiger Beat! Air Miami!
--
DJs between sets. All the cute girls do The Roach from Hairspray.
--
Fucking garter socks from the son-of-a-bitch in argyle golf shit. You ain’t bringin’ that back.
--
The breakdown of formal America=people can only freak dance.
--
Luckily, drunk driving is not a crime in LA.
--
The DJ playing bullshit does enforce my Detroit rock chauvinism.
--
Rolling blackouts, no vocals all backbeat=awesome.
This is the kind of music that needs to be live. It needs the rattle and hum and dancing (not so much the persistent feedback). But this fits in exactly with what’s been Djed: the Sonics.
--
And puss out second song.
Still second song—as soon as you notice yourself going deaf, every song is “Do I want to put my hearing into this?”
--
Third song—I really do believe the chick with the big tits is gonna fuck the blonde guy with Jew nose. He’s been jealously guarding her as she flits around the dancefloor, grinding on everyone. He’s got that groping desperation, though.
--
“Seriously, LA, this is the Rolling Blackouts. It’s ridiculous, what’s going on… in society. The Rolling Blackouts!” interstitial from club owner.
--
Country rock tune w/swing. Second guitar part finally. This is where they could use feedback washes to help ‘em not sound like the Meat Puppets. When he hits “ALRIGHT!” stretched out and broken, that’s where they could go. Don’t stop now!
--
Amy and I gotta start a band to kill corny LA fux.
(Not a song)
--
Next song after country above = Stones “Let’s spend the night together”+The Who’s “Can’t Explain.” See, where other folks knock ‘em for theft, I love BRAZEN. Also, early Stipe vox sometimes. Stopped the dancing though.
——
Speed to velocity=derivative.
--Kinda a mediocre mid-tempo with a spot of marching (I dunno 4-4 bah bah bah bah w/pauses staccato? Up and down bass, minimal backbeat, same melodies vox+guitar+bass.
--
Big tits is dancing again—relaxed, Police groove, but not skabeat (guitar counterpoint goes “ska.” Also, this song = great, simple hook. Up and down. B-side. Excellent harm?
--
Reggie the Renegade Alligator “Crocodile Tears” calypso beat totally New Wave Joe Jackson morning papers? Sunday papers?
–
Big tits is dancing with Newsies cap girl. Hot. Jew nose is dancing with newsies cap. Not hot.
--
Compression wars to live=no dynamic range. Pushing all to max always. Yes, lead guitar part!
--
Another song, but I barely notice until it’s halfway through. There’s a Sheffield woman, two over from me. Not even as high as my nipples. Ad still a hipster Joan Jett mullet. The crowd’s given up.
--
Fuck yeah, like Jet but right, couldn’t even write during.
--
That Jet thing comes through again on the choruses—maybe LA version of garage rock? Very polished vox, but polished to garage. “You know you hate it” is chorus. Golden Earring freakout outro.
--
And we’re out.
This is the Detroit I miss. They could be any number of opening bands for the sights or SRC or Dirtbombs or Come Ons or Paybackds or Wackswings. Sharp power pop. Lead signer looks like Jason Schwartzman without nose.
--
The Makeout Party:
Bassist looks like a yearbook photo from 1982. Poodle.
Charming twee punk. Elvis Costello. Remind me of Rants.
Trebbly and bouncy. C86? Listen. Ramones if they wanted to meet your parents. Richman—later Richman. Pop Project too.
--
Non-ironic call for birthday suits in banter. Mic out oh no!
n Sound like the Jame without any punk attitude. No Tube Station. Or unrestUnrest.
“Not political, but that’s like complaining about the lack of tits on a horse.”
--
We’re on song five, I think. OK, but the first band was better. It’s a flurry of upfront dancing, like the high school everyone imagines after they know what hip is.
--The soft, sensitive vocals give the impression, tied up with the previous note, that they’re playing at being younger than they are, like Saved By The Bell actors.
--All in pants so tight, ‘70s tight, but the bassist is the only one with a sizable cock showing. Explains his pinched banter voice though. Sounds like Emo Phillips. Gets the girls dancing though.
--Wish they had a lead guitar.
--Then they say “we haven’t played it in foreverver—inagoddadavida!” and launch into a stop-start guitar part with verve and they’re fucking on! Then it ends.
Raspberry
--The girl with the camera only wants photos of the bassist.
--Teenbeat! Tiger Beat! Air Miami!
--
DJs between sets. All the cute girls do The Roach from Hairspray.
--
Fucking garter socks from the son-of-a-bitch in argyle golf shit. You ain’t bringin’ that back.
--
The breakdown of formal America=people can only freak dance.
--
Luckily, drunk driving is not a crime in LA.
--
The DJ playing bullshit does enforce my Detroit rock chauvinism.
--
Rolling blackouts, no vocals all backbeat=awesome.
This is the kind of music that needs to be live. It needs the rattle and hum and dancing (not so much the persistent feedback). But this fits in exactly with what’s been Djed: the Sonics.
--
And puss out second song.
Still second song—as soon as you notice yourself going deaf, every song is “Do I want to put my hearing into this?”
--
Third song—I really do believe the chick with the big tits is gonna fuck the blonde guy with Jew nose. He’s been jealously guarding her as she flits around the dancefloor, grinding on everyone. He’s got that groping desperation, though.
--
“Seriously, LA, this is the Rolling Blackouts. It’s ridiculous, what’s going on… in society. The Rolling Blackouts!” interstitial from club owner.
--
Country rock tune w/swing. Second guitar part finally. This is where they could use feedback washes to help ‘em not sound like the Meat Puppets. When he hits “ALRIGHT!” stretched out and broken, that’s where they could go. Don’t stop now!
--
Amy and I gotta start a band to kill corny LA fux.
(Not a song)
--
Next song after country above = Stones “Let’s spend the night together”+The Who’s “Can’t Explain.” See, where other folks knock ‘em for theft, I love BRAZEN. Also, early Stipe vox sometimes. Stopped the dancing though.
——
Speed to velocity=derivative.
--Kinda a mediocre mid-tempo with a spot of marching (I dunno 4-4 bah bah bah bah w/pauses staccato? Up and down bass, minimal backbeat, same melodies vox+guitar+bass.
--
Big tits is dancing again—relaxed, Police groove, but not skabeat (guitar counterpoint goes “ska.” Also, this song = great, simple hook. Up and down. B-side. Excellent harm?
--
Reggie the Renegade Alligator “Crocodile Tears” calypso beat totally New Wave Joe Jackson morning papers? Sunday papers?
–
Big tits is dancing with Newsies cap girl. Hot. Jew nose is dancing with newsies cap. Not hot.
--
Compression wars to live=no dynamic range. Pushing all to max always. Yes, lead guitar part!
--
Another song, but I barely notice until it’s halfway through. There’s a Sheffield woman, two over from me. Not even as high as my nipples. Ad still a hipster Joan Jett mullet. The crowd’s given up.
--
Fuck yeah, like Jet but right, couldn’t even write during.
--
That Jet thing comes through again on the choruses—maybe LA version of garage rock? Very polished vox, but polished to garage. “You know you hate it” is chorus. Golden Earring freakout outro.
--
And we’re out.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Y'know what I hate about children? They can't take a punch
Today (yesterday, technically, as I forgot to post this):
Played foursquare in the park on lunchbreak with Phil, Eric and Mailroom John. We played pretty much the full hour, and that was totally sweet, though I didn't get to eat most of my lunch. I did hit a kid with the ball, and she started crying. She was, I dunno, four or so? About mid-thigh high? However old kids are when they're about three feet. Anyway, I hit the ball into the corner, Eric went for it and missed, and it popped the kid. It didn't seem like a bad hit, and she was fine for a moment, until we started asking her if she was OK. Then came the waterworks.
Played foursquare in the park on lunchbreak with Phil, Eric and Mailroom John. We played pretty much the full hour, and that was totally sweet, though I didn't get to eat most of my lunch. I did hit a kid with the ball, and she started crying. She was, I dunno, four or so? About mid-thigh high? However old kids are when they're about three feet. Anyway, I hit the ball into the corner, Eric went for it and missed, and it popped the kid. It didn't seem like a bad hit, and she was fine for a moment, until we started asking her if she was OK. Then came the waterworks.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Work gossip
Two weird bits: Telling my recently-divorced colleague that a guy being in jail and not being able to raise bail should be a "deal breaker," which it totally should be; the Hustler Ed As gave his two-weeks notice today, and I'm worried I'll have to pick up the slack. The problem? I slack. I like my slack. It makes up for having a job that's mostly brain stem work.
New Cake=Piss Laser Day 1
Ok, there's a new urinal cake at work, and since the last couple of times we've gotten one, I've wondered how long it would take to piss through it.
You know, PISS LAZER!
It's funnier in my Dragonforce voice. I pissed on it once today.
You know, PISS LAZER!
It's funnier in my Dragonforce voice. I pissed on it once today.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Not so bad!
It's only been a week!
Finished Snow Crash, by Neal Stephenson. It was an odd read for me, being so late to it. Our culture's pretty well steeped in biters (Matrix, mostly), and I used to play a lot of Shadowrun, which stole pretty much wholesale.
I have some complaints: It's not nearly as deep as it thinks it is; there are some pretty glaring plotholes; his philosophy is fair bit muddled; last thirty pages are a trudge. But it was a fun read, and I felt like I was suddenly getting a lot of references that prior I'd only vaguely placed. My next book from the library, Trapped In Russia, I might abandon. It's supposed to be a thrilling true story, but so far it's mostly the dull tale of someone being conscripted. I suppose that's a natural trade-off for being true—the dull bits did happen. But hey, I don't have to read 'em. The Flannery O'Connor book on top of the stack keeps looking more and more alluring.
Found some neat art while casting about for a story on Grafuck: Pomme Chan and Audrey Kawasaki.
Oh, and Jonmc from MeFi does a good job with some classic rockers and their comebacks over at Metachat. I especially dug the Mitch Ryder. I need to head over to Cousin's Vinyl to see if they have it.
Finished Snow Crash, by Neal Stephenson. It was an odd read for me, being so late to it. Our culture's pretty well steeped in biters (Matrix, mostly), and I used to play a lot of Shadowrun, which stole pretty much wholesale.
I have some complaints: It's not nearly as deep as it thinks it is; there are some pretty glaring plotholes; his philosophy is fair bit muddled; last thirty pages are a trudge. But it was a fun read, and I felt like I was suddenly getting a lot of references that prior I'd only vaguely placed. My next book from the library, Trapped In Russia, I might abandon. It's supposed to be a thrilling true story, but so far it's mostly the dull tale of someone being conscripted. I suppose that's a natural trade-off for being true—the dull bits did happen. But hey, I don't have to read 'em. The Flannery O'Connor book on top of the stack keeps looking more and more alluring.
Found some neat art while casting about for a story on Grafuck: Pomme Chan and Audrey Kawasaki.
Oh, and Jonmc from MeFi does a good job with some classic rockers and their comebacks over at Metachat. I especially dug the Mitch Ryder. I need to head over to Cousin's Vinyl to see if they have it.
Saturday, January 05, 2008
Best of 2007!
I had knocked together a best of 2007 mix for folks at Metafilter, and my da's nice enough to host it, so here it is: Best of 2007
(Ugly formatting from iTunes c&p)
Wild Bore Mika Miko 666 EP 2007
Fledermaus Can't Get It Von Südenfed Tromatic Reflexxions 2007
Buzz Buzz Buzz Black Strobe Burn Your Own Church 2007
People Person Pissed Jeans Hope For Men 2007
First Priority The Bad Trips The Bad Trips lp (rocketship records 2007) 2007
Hey! Home Blitz Home Blitz 2007
Troubled Son
(Ugly formatting from iTunes c&p)
Wild Bore Mika Miko 666 EP 2007
Fledermaus Can't Get It Von Südenfed Tromatic Reflexxions 2007
Buzz Buzz Buzz Black Strobe Burn Your Own Church 2007
People Person Pissed Jeans Hope For Men 2007
First Priority The Bad Trips The Bad Trips lp (rocketship records 2007) 2007
Hey! Home Blitz Home Blitz 2007
Troubled Son
New year!
Time for a flurry of activity!
I got my first Xmas card from a photographer and porn star couple. It's totally one of those Sears portraits, and is pretty cute.
Here's how this whole thing is weird, since I meant to start blogging more about my job: I've dealt with Dave Naz on and off, mostly through email and the phone. I've never met him. But I bounce over and read their blogs every now and then. They seem like cool folks generally, vegetarian (or maybe vegan), and I really admire Naz's photographic skillz—he has a louche '70s style that I enjoy. But while it would be cool to get to know them more, I'd have to stop reading their blogs. Not because they're all porny and that necessitates more of an awareness about how intimacy is constructed, but because of the weird disjunction I feel about public/private knowledge. I make friends on Metafilter because it doesn't have that weird confessionalism that blogs do, whereas most other people whose blogs I do read (for example, Mark Maynard), I don't really like talking to.
I think this is part of why I only read my girlfriend's livejournal once every couple of months, and why I don't really tell my friends about writing here—I've already got an in-person relationship with them, so I don't really need them to see this. I communicate what I want to with them already.
I got my first Xmas card from a photographer and porn star couple. It's totally one of those Sears portraits, and is pretty cute.
Here's how this whole thing is weird, since I meant to start blogging more about my job: I've dealt with Dave Naz on and off, mostly through email and the phone. I've never met him. But I bounce over and read their blogs every now and then. They seem like cool folks generally, vegetarian (or maybe vegan), and I really admire Naz's photographic skillz—he has a louche '70s style that I enjoy. But while it would be cool to get to know them more, I'd have to stop reading their blogs. Not because they're all porny and that necessitates more of an awareness about how intimacy is constructed, but because of the weird disjunction I feel about public/private knowledge. I make friends on Metafilter because it doesn't have that weird confessionalism that blogs do, whereas most other people whose blogs I do read (for example, Mark Maynard), I don't really like talking to.
I think this is part of why I only read my girlfriend's livejournal once every couple of months, and why I don't really tell my friends about writing here—I've already got an in-person relationship with them, so I don't really need them to see this. I communicate what I want to with them already.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Mix tape for Jessamyn
Amy and I went totally analog for this, after it was a pain in the ass to switch cables (our vinyl ins are totally crusty, so everything came through the regular amp), and it was all hot recorded, so there's a little bit of levels fuckery.
Here's the track list—
Side A:
Justo Mi Gusto—Los Yorks
Hard Coming Love—United States of America
Honeymoon with B Troop—10cc
Street Life—Roxy Music
Poison Arrow—ABC
Supersonic—JJ Fad
Moody (Spaced out)—ESG
Nu Tones—Nomo
Sunshowers—Dr. Buzzards Original Savanna Band
This is not a Love Song—Public Image LTD
No. 1 Song in Heaven—The Sparks
Side B:
Mesopotamia—B-52s
Looking For Clues—Robert Palmer
Dayschool—The Rants
Radio Sweetheart—Elvis Costello
Harborcoat—REM
I'm an Agent—Gary Numan
Automatic—The Pointer Sisters
Golden Years—David Bowie
Quicksand—Martha and the Vandellas
Bad Reputation—Joan Jett
Tonight—The Go Gos
Totally Nude—Talking Heads
The Ladder—The Clash
I think if you look closely, you can tell who made which side. I'm also curious about how this will be received, because a lot of it is stuff that was probably top 40 hits when she was a young adult, meaning she lived through it rather than just stumbling on it later.
Here's the track list—
Side A:
Justo Mi Gusto—Los Yorks
Hard Coming Love—United States of America
Honeymoon with B Troop—10cc
Street Life—Roxy Music
Poison Arrow—ABC
Supersonic—JJ Fad
Moody (Spaced out)—ESG
Nu Tones—Nomo
Sunshowers—Dr. Buzzards Original Savanna Band
This is not a Love Song—Public Image LTD
No. 1 Song in Heaven—The Sparks
Side B:
Mesopotamia—B-52s
Looking For Clues—Robert Palmer
Dayschool—The Rants
Radio Sweetheart—Elvis Costello
Harborcoat—REM
I'm an Agent—Gary Numan
Automatic—The Pointer Sisters
Golden Years—David Bowie
Quicksand—Martha and the Vandellas
Bad Reputation—Joan Jett
Tonight—The Go Gos
Totally Nude—Talking Heads
The Ladder—The Clash
I think if you look closely, you can tell who made which side. I'm also curious about how this will be received, because a lot of it is stuff that was probably top 40 hits when she was a young adult, meaning she lived through it rather than just stumbling on it later.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Radiohead In Rainbows
Radiohead—In Rainbows
This is the first time in years I can remember a widely-anticipated release date. Radiohead, despite a couple of (y’know, my opinion, man) boring-ass albums, has succeeded in creating a gold-rush amongst the blog polloi and weenies that I consort with.
And so far, it’s pretty good. The first track, “15 Steps,” has disjointed, grimy percussion and only starts to suffer when it hits the middling bridge of Yorkish mush-mouthery.
Next up, “Bodysnatchers,” an ebullient (well, as much as Radiohead can be) first single (if they release singles) with a catchy, compressed riff borrowed from the Toadies circa ’97. They play with stereo well on this track, and within two weeks this will be everywhere. Within three, probably in an ad for Nissans or something.
“Nudes” reminds me of being told that every Poison album had to have a ballad so that young dudes could put it on and ball their girlfriends in the backs of their Malibus. This is that quintessential falsetto-laden weepy for a new generation.
It’s a bit moot for me, because my girlfriend won’t have sex while Thom Yorke is singing. Anywhere. We schedule our coitus around his tours, that’s how much she finds his voice unsexy.
Anyway, “Nudes” sounds the same to me as any number of other sensitive Radiohead songs, which all blend together so I’ve forgotten all their names. It coulda been on The Bends, if they’d needed another gentle song.
Wait, what was I saying? The album lost me somewhere in there. I looked up and I was on the next to last track.
Back to “Weird Fishes/Arpeggi.” Which is, as may be inferred, about fish and composed with a couple arpeggios. It’s another gentle song of alienation, vaguely reminiscent of John Martyn, only with the sort of shimmering modern-rock production that ultimately strips the song of anything but a sense of montage, like suddenly driving somewhere in a mid-sized import sedan with Zach Braff.
It’s too early, obviously, to tell whether I’ll come back to this album. But so far, signs aren’t good. It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just that it’s too easy to glibly mock and then forget.
“All I Need” is more dour Blighty murmurs, sounding like it was composed in a raincoat and fog. Still, nice resonant bass and by the time it hits the requisite crescendo at the end, it feels like there was some emotional heft.
“Faust Arp.” Oh, I had such high krautrock hopes for “Faust Arp,” but instead it’s more plectrums and pastoral string-laden pop. I can’t place the melody, but I’m sure I’ve heard it before, probably in some Pentangle song or Fairport Convention tune or something.
And then… “Reckoner,” which is more upper-register melismatics and tamborine bullshit. Keith, the music editor, still hasn’t gotten his copy, so I burned him a copy of my download. About twenty minutes later he came by my desk and just said, “Fuckin’ sucks.” Why? Well, Keith wants to rock, and, especially as the album winds into its third act, signs point to “Bodysnatchers” being the most rockin’ moment. Or interesting moment. Which kind of makes this feel like a bit of a slog, pretty strings and tambourines aside.
Oh no! The file freaked out! Radiohead, ever attuned to emotional states, can tell when I’m making fun of them and become petulant! Too bad that “House of Cards” sounds like the most slack-ass dorm ballad since “Yellow.” Get ready for a legion of earnest knit-cap wearing goatee-jockeys to perform this at your campus’s next open mike night. I like the crazy echo on it, but goddamn, shame they couldn’t come up with a better song to put their production tricks on.
Back to at least a bouncing semi-acoustic number in “Jigsaw Falling Into Place,” but we’re almost out of album. Maybe it’s time to admit that this is just what Radiohead sounds like now, and that any excitement over their novel release and distribution has been totally submarined by the fact that they’re just a boring band now. They’ve always had these strands of boring bullshit, and if I was smart I’d have realized that since I thought the last two albums were crap, this one wasn’t likely to be much better.
But I liked getting excited about hearing a new album from a band who used to break boundaries, and I’d like to get that excited again about someone else. I remember camping out all night to get to Tuesday new releases, and the anticipation of In Rainbows reminded me of that. But instead of Atom Heart Mother or even Wish You Were Here, I got Division Bell.
Break my heart again, Radiohead. From listening to the music, that’s what you were after all along, right? No Terrence Reilly rainbows, this is all a meta-statement on disappointment and ennui.
Thank God I didn’t pay for this.
This is the first time in years I can remember a widely-anticipated release date. Radiohead, despite a couple of (y’know, my opinion, man) boring-ass albums, has succeeded in creating a gold-rush amongst the blog polloi and weenies that I consort with.
And so far, it’s pretty good. The first track, “15 Steps,” has disjointed, grimy percussion and only starts to suffer when it hits the middling bridge of Yorkish mush-mouthery.
Next up, “Bodysnatchers,” an ebullient (well, as much as Radiohead can be) first single (if they release singles) with a catchy, compressed riff borrowed from the Toadies circa ’97. They play with stereo well on this track, and within two weeks this will be everywhere. Within three, probably in an ad for Nissans or something.
“Nudes” reminds me of being told that every Poison album had to have a ballad so that young dudes could put it on and ball their girlfriends in the backs of their Malibus. This is that quintessential falsetto-laden weepy for a new generation.
It’s a bit moot for me, because my girlfriend won’t have sex while Thom Yorke is singing. Anywhere. We schedule our coitus around his tours, that’s how much she finds his voice unsexy.
Anyway, “Nudes” sounds the same to me as any number of other sensitive Radiohead songs, which all blend together so I’ve forgotten all their names. It coulda been on The Bends, if they’d needed another gentle song.
Wait, what was I saying? The album lost me somewhere in there. I looked up and I was on the next to last track.
Back to “Weird Fishes/Arpeggi.” Which is, as may be inferred, about fish and composed with a couple arpeggios. It’s another gentle song of alienation, vaguely reminiscent of John Martyn, only with the sort of shimmering modern-rock production that ultimately strips the song of anything but a sense of montage, like suddenly driving somewhere in a mid-sized import sedan with Zach Braff.
It’s too early, obviously, to tell whether I’ll come back to this album. But so far, signs aren’t good. It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just that it’s too easy to glibly mock and then forget.
“All I Need” is more dour Blighty murmurs, sounding like it was composed in a raincoat and fog. Still, nice resonant bass and by the time it hits the requisite crescendo at the end, it feels like there was some emotional heft.
“Faust Arp.” Oh, I had such high krautrock hopes for “Faust Arp,” but instead it’s more plectrums and pastoral string-laden pop. I can’t place the melody, but I’m sure I’ve heard it before, probably in some Pentangle song or Fairport Convention tune or something.
And then… “Reckoner,” which is more upper-register melismatics and tamborine bullshit. Keith, the music editor, still hasn’t gotten his copy, so I burned him a copy of my download. About twenty minutes later he came by my desk and just said, “Fuckin’ sucks.” Why? Well, Keith wants to rock, and, especially as the album winds into its third act, signs point to “Bodysnatchers” being the most rockin’ moment. Or interesting moment. Which kind of makes this feel like a bit of a slog, pretty strings and tambourines aside.
Oh no! The file freaked out! Radiohead, ever attuned to emotional states, can tell when I’m making fun of them and become petulant! Too bad that “House of Cards” sounds like the most slack-ass dorm ballad since “Yellow.” Get ready for a legion of earnest knit-cap wearing goatee-jockeys to perform this at your campus’s next open mike night. I like the crazy echo on it, but goddamn, shame they couldn’t come up with a better song to put their production tricks on.
Back to at least a bouncing semi-acoustic number in “Jigsaw Falling Into Place,” but we’re almost out of album. Maybe it’s time to admit that this is just what Radiohead sounds like now, and that any excitement over their novel release and distribution has been totally submarined by the fact that they’re just a boring band now. They’ve always had these strands of boring bullshit, and if I was smart I’d have realized that since I thought the last two albums were crap, this one wasn’t likely to be much better.
But I liked getting excited about hearing a new album from a band who used to break boundaries, and I’d like to get that excited again about someone else. I remember camping out all night to get to Tuesday new releases, and the anticipation of In Rainbows reminded me of that. But instead of Atom Heart Mother or even Wish You Were Here, I got Division Bell.
Break my heart again, Radiohead. From listening to the music, that’s what you were after all along, right? No Terrence Reilly rainbows, this is all a meta-statement on disappointment and ennui.
Thank God I didn’t pay for this.
Monday, October 08, 2007
Strangely Hypnotic
This movie is of Dictyostelium sorting cells.
The cells, sorted in waves, form "slugs" and migrate.
Once they arrive somewhere with a food source, they form stalks, and fruit like mushrooms.
Papers and more movies here, more movies here.
Friday, October 05, 2007
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