Wednesday, December 30, 2009
I'll close out the aughts with a quick dispatch from the "I am a dumbass" files.
I never paid much attention to the beginning of The Clash version of Police and Thieves. I assumed the lyric was just part of the Junior Murvin original, which I confess I've never heard.
But listen closer. What Joe sings is "They're going through a tight wind."
Yup. It's from Blitzkrieg Bop. A tip of the hat from Strummer to the brudders from Queens.
Here's hoping you generate some steam heat in 2010...
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Amazon is selling Dark Side of the Moon downloads for $1.99 today.
I've never owned Dark Side, but I've been around it plenty.
I don't like its worldview, but I can't deny that the thing has some craft to recommend it.
The question of the day is whether that's worth two bills to me...
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
THE OLD LEFT HANDER
Not sure if it was a sign of incipient madness or a bit of undigested cheese, but last night I had a very vivid dream that I was stuck in a large ditch with Joe Nuxhall. The North Korean army figured in there, too, though I don't recall how exactly.
The thing that stayed with me was Joe Nuxhall's determination that we would get out of the goddam ditch...
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
THIS IS SOMETHING MORE COMPLEX
I don't like to use too many of my music notes to purchase old stuff, but I plunked down $7 last night on Our Beloved Revolutionary Sweetheart by Camper Van Beethoven.
This was one of my favorite albums of the 80's, and I'll go out on a limb and say that She Divines Water was one of the top something something songs of that decade.
Don't know how often I'll actually listen to it, but it feels somehow essential to me...
Monday, December 07, 2009
Friday, December 04, 2009
Thursday, December 03, 2009
Random Thursday thoughts...
-I never would have pegged Radiohead for any measurable future success based on the sub-Nirvana pabulum that was Creep. They seemed destined for Bush-hood or Blind Melon-dom for certains...
-Mid-period R.E.M. were basically dead to me, so while I got that they namedropped Wire (It's the End of the World as We Know It), I didn't realize until recently that they had covered Wire (Strange).
-And if Wire and R.E.M. ever collaborate on anything, you can bet your bippy they will call themselves WiR.E.M. Or at the very least, I will call them that...
-To my knowledge, only once did someone ever dedicate a song to me on the radio. The song was Kiss Me by Tin Tin. And I never did kiss her.
-I haven't bought the XX album yet, but am I right that it's just a re-release of Young Marble Giants?
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
The end-of-year tributes to dead celebs are rolling in. Here is what R. Kelly had to say about working with Michael Jackson:
"It was like hope meeting faith, faith introducing hope to belief, and belief introducing them to love. They all became the best of friends and now hang out at a club called achievement."
Wow.
That's like batshit crazy meeting fucking insane, and fucking insane introducing them to delusional ranting. Then they all became the best of friends and hang out at a club called personality disorder.
Word.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
"You didn't have to love me like you did
But you did, but you did and I thank you..."
"Thank you
For lending me your hand,
For sharing time today,
For giving that idea
That made
It a nice and easy day..."
"Thank you falletinme be mice elf agin..."
And thank you Sam and Dave, and Danielson, and Sly, and all the others too numerous to mention. Thank you.
Monday, November 23, 2009
BE IT DEAD OR ALIVE
The distillation of everything that was right about The Who is in that performance of A Quick One, from 4:43 to 5:15 (yes, 5:15). I believe the lyrics are as follows:
Dang, dang, dang, dang, dang, dang, dang, dang, dang
Cello, cello, cello, cello, cello, cello
Cello, cello, cello, cello, cello, cello
Cello, cello, cello, cello, cello, cello
Cello, cello, cello, cello, cello, cello
And on top of that is the most clinking, clanking, clattering collection of caliginous junk you've ever heard.
It is the goddam choir celestial, and the essence of rock and roll in 32 seconds...
Friday, November 20, 2009
YOU ARE FORGIVEN
Ever since I heard Chris Michaels when I was half asleep a couple of weeks ago, I've been half obsessed.
So I took the next logical step last night and made a mix CD for my commute-- called it “Taco Lettuce Crunch Mix.” And of course, it led off with Chris Michaels.
The next song after was A Quick One by The Who (Rock and Roll Circus version). Because Chris Michaels is basically A Quick One writ sideways, in secret-twin language.
Like this:
“Plume bloom bloom blaby bloom
Cheep cheep beep bee-bee beep.”
Or, with a slightly more narrative bent, like this:
“But just now she’s angry came up
And said You’re so so stup’
It’s all disrup’
You’re blah blah this this that so now sh’up
You messed it up.”
And don't get me started on Tony of the Franklin Park hockey club...
Plain fucking genius.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Amazon is trying to guilt me into buying Double Nickels on the Dime by Minutemen. $5 for the month of November.
Problem is, I never really developed an affection for Minutemen. Liked them more than, say, Black Flag, but it just never clicked. But I liked what they stood for.
Is that worth 500 cents?
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Friday, November 13, 2009
I don't know much about Daniel Johnston beyond M. Ward's cover of To Go Home from a few years back.
But what I do know from that is that this is genius:
“Dark night on a long highway,
Little lights in the houses say
There's somebody staying up late.”
Damn. That is like Proust in pill form...
Thursday, November 12, 2009
NATIVE NEW YORKER
Many years ago, in one of our one-room apartments, I was listening to Lady Godiva's Operation. The part came up where Lou interjects a New York “sweetly” to finish John Cale's Welsh thought.
Taeko stuck her head around a corner and asked “Did you call me?”
And asked sweetly, I might add...
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
I was designated driver for an office field trip yesterday. So yeah, I made a mix.
"Car and Driver"
Come On Get Happy-- The Partridge Family
Drive-- R.E.M.
Airbag-- Radiohead
Crawling From The Wreckage-- Dave Edmunds
Shut Down-- The Beach Boys
I Get Around-- The Beach Boys
Little Honda-- Yo La Tengo
Emperor Tomato Ketchup-- Stereolab
Cars-- To Rococo Rot
Cars-- Gary Numan
Car Song-- Elastica
Killer Cars-- Radiohead
Fast Cars-- The Buzzcocks
I Love My Car-- Belle & Sebastian
Car Wheels On A Gravel Road-- Lucinda Williams
Keep the Car Running-- Arcade Fire
Car Wash-- Rose Royce
Back Of A Car-- Big Star
Motor Away-- Guided By Voices
Gravity Rides Everything-- Modest Mouse
Keep On (Groovin')-- The Brady Bunch
The Stereolab/To Rococo Rot/Gary Numan part was my favorite stretch. Krautastic!
Friday, November 06, 2009
YOUR SCENT IS STILL HERE
In one of those only-on-cable moments, I found myself watching Nirvana play the 1992 Reading festival a few days back.
When I first heard Kurt had killed himself, I hurled my remote control. It helicoptored across the living room and smashed into the far wall, breaking the battery cover.
His suicide was inevitable and stupid and a waste. And I was as unsurprised as I was pissed.
So I clutched my remote tightly for the whole of the Reading show, and I never let it go...
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
RUN TO THE SEA
In one of those only-on-the-internets moments, I found myself reading about The Joshua Tree a few days back.
Fun fact: turns out that the sequence of the album was determined by Kirsty MacColl, then wife of Steve Lillywhite, and soon-to-be duet partner with Shane MacGowan on Fairytale of New York. (Bonus Pogues connection: her dad Ewan was a noted folk singer, and wrote Dirty Old Town, which the Pogues covered on their second album.)
The final running order is essentially her ranking of the songs, from favorite to least. I think she got it right, mostly-- I'd probably just flip Bullet the Blue Sky and One Tree Hill and be satisfied enough...
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
WHEN I PAINT MY MASTERPIECE
My favorite vision of the moment is the skeleton of midrise construction strung internally with white incandescent lights, at dusk.
This replaces my previous favorite: the first 45 seconds of condensation on a shower door illumined by a globe of vanity light, viewed from a sitting position.
If I had any talent in the visual arts, I would paint these things to be as beautiful as they are in my head...
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
You know, the ability to access my iTunes through the TV seemed initially like feature fluff.
But then I realized that with the convergence and the whatnot and the hoohah, the best speaker system in my house probably belongs to the TV at this point.
Well played, FiOS TV. Well played.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
I designed to take a short nap the other day. Unusual behavior, but I've been fighting something, and I had a slot available.
I told iTunes to make a Genius list based on Valerie by Broadcast.
As I really began to nod off, it played Choci Loni by Young Marble Giants and Chris Michaels by The Fiery Furnaces. In my borderline state of consciousness, I would have sworn that these two songs together lasted about 4 hours. And I mean that in a good way.
Apparently, I was out totally for Keep It Clean (Camera Obscura), The Crying of Lot G (Yo La Tengo), and Some Things Last a Long Time (Beach House). Wire's Strange stirred me back awake.
It was short, yeah, but it was the best damn nap I've had in ages...
Friday, October 16, 2009
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Thursday, October 08, 2009
WOLF LIKE ME
And yeah, Chronic Town came out in 1982 as well.
But I didn't get bit by the R.E.M. bug until Murmur a year later.
Murmur meant so much to me.
Most of my other teenage musical obsessions to that point felt borrowed, secondhand. The Clash, The Jam, The Beat were all going concerns when I became a fan, but they were in varying states of decay.
But then with Murmur (and things like Wild Gift and The Days of Wine and Roses) I felt like I had found something inchoate, something that was gaining its shape right before my very ears. Something that belonged to me...
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
WOLVES, LOWER
Another dispatch from the I-am-a-dumbass files, 1982 edition.
Back at the dawn of MTV, I caught the Hungry Like the Wolf video on the TV in Kenny's basement. Didn't have cable myself...
I was pretty excited. See, I had just recently discovered the New York Dolls, and I confused Duran Duran with the Dolls' guitarist Sylvain Sylvain. I think it took me a couple of weeks to figure out this all had nothing to do with the Dolls.
Anyhow, everybody knows that Duran Duran actually assassinated Bobby Kennedy. Or something.
On another lupine front, I was rightly excited to see my X and The Hungry Wolf on MTV that same year...
Friday, October 02, 2009
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
LIKE SPINNING PLATES
Sometimes I think that old Virginny is trying to speak to me through its license plates.
But all too often, I have no idea what the fuck it's trying to say.
Take today for example. Within the span of about 90 seconds, I saw the following two plates:
2OSAS
2URSUS
So what's the message, Virginia?
“sliced tongue, watch out for them bears”?
WTF VA.
Friday, September 25, 2009
The people have gesprochen.
Here are the top 5 Beatles remasters in terms of first-week sales:
1. Abbey Road, 89K
2. Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, 74K
3. The Beatles (white album), 60K
4. Rubber Soul, 58K
5. Revolver, 46K
Not a bad week for a band that broke up 4o years ago. Well done, hype masters! Well done, remasters!
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
A THOUSAND PAGES GIVE OR TAKE A FEW (HUNDRED)
Much ink has been shed and many pixels have been sacrificed in the service of chronicling every damn thing The Beatles ever did.
One of the more compelling books you're going to find is Revolution in the Head, Ian MacDonald's detailed analysis of each song the band recorded. It is sometimes bafflingly music-geeky (“cyclic arpeggios” and “plain E Dorian melodies” anyone?), decidedly pro-Macca/anti-Lennon, and reactionary to a fault (stating as fact the “catastrophic decline of pop” after 1966).
That being said, it is also passionate, insightful, and incredibly detailed. It is the type of book that perhaps only The Beatles deserve...
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
GOOD NIGHT SLEEP TIGHT
Random thoughts on the remasters I bought:
-Tell Me Why is every inch as good as Heatwave, which it apes, and White Riot, which it begat.
-Next time you care to make fun of Ringo, listen to Ticket to Ride. I don't know shit about drumming, but that right there is brilliant drumming.
-I wish she was leaving home in pursuit of something more profound than “fun.” But I suppose the lack of profundity is what seals our sympathy for the middle-class mum and dad, which is a pretty extraordinary slant for 1967.
-”I used to be cruel to my woman/I beat her and kept her apart from the things that she loved”? Not cool, The Beatles. Not cool.
-On the other hand... I was taking my mom out shopping last Sunday. She's recovering from a mild stroke and battling arthritic knees, so it takes her 4 or 5 arduous minutes to get in the car. As she worked to pull herself across the back seat, she heard Getting Better playing on the radio. “I like your music,” she said, her face brightening. And here I let Paul carry the moment, and left John out of it...
-The guitar solo in I Should Have Known Better is just the damn dinkiest thing. Sounds like someone breaks a string at the end of it.
-Yesterday endures because it is 2:06.
-Glass Onion's obnoxious solipsism is one thing, but how about Savoy Truffle: “We all know ob-la-di-bla-da...” Um, yeah, we all know it, George... from aaaalllll the way back on fucking side 1. Sheesh.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
The last of the four Beatles remasters that I bought was the white album. That sprawling, bawling, yawing, hawing, mess of an album.
The thing is so schizophrenic that an actual schizophrenic heard in it messages to foment violent revolution.
Never mind that one of those songs was a slight but noisy ode to a fairground ride (Helter Skelter). Mind that one was a fairly vitriolic attack on middle-class values (Piggies).
And I have to say, whereas Helter Skelter always felt kind of cleansing to me, Piggies still just sounds nasty and condescending. I mean, that line about “clutching forks and knives to eat their bacon” (cannibalism, you see) is positively Swiftian—well, if Swift had been a moralizing, humorless prig, that is.
To indulge in some parlour games, here’s my version of the great single-album tracklist:
Side A
1. Back in the USSR
2. Dear Prudence
3. Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da
4. While My Guitar Gently Weeps
5. Happiness is a Warm Gun
6. I’m So Tired
Side B
1. Birthday
2. Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except for Me and My Monkey
3. Sexy Sadie
4. Julia
5. Helter Skelter
6. Revolution 1
Thursday, September 17, 2009
FUN IS THE ONE THING THAT MONEY CAN'T BUY
Next up on the remaster parade is Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.
The album is at heart a confection.
Its weight, in the context of late 60's Romantic notions, is its weightlessness.
Right up until A Day in the Life, that is.
Don't get me wrong-- A Day in the Life earns all its due respect as a watershed moment in pop. But, really it just seems out of place here. Sgt Pepper proper would be a much tidier affair if it ended with the reprise.
And as a bonus, then we could all acknowledge She's Leaving Home as the best single song on the album without feeling guilty...
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
HEAD IN HAND
The next Beatles remaster I picked up was Help!
The drill here is essentially the same as with A Hard Day's Night: seven brilliant soundtrack songs, followed by, um, others (quick-- whistle You Like Me Too Much or Tell Me What You See). The line of demarcation is drawn in boldface when Ticket to Ride gives way to Act Naturally.
But in this case, “other” also includes I've Just Seen a Face and Yesterday. (Thanks, Paul.) Plus, the brilliant songs are “better” than the one's on A Hard Day's Night because they're more “mature.”
So, while A Hard Day's Night is the winner in the movie category, Help! has got it on songs...
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
I DON'T CARE TOO MUCH FOR MONEY
Depending on the angle of light on any given day, The Beatles can appear infinite.
But then you see the box set sitting there: 14 discs, 180 or so songs. And The Beatles seem as tiny as England.
The truth-- as always-- is somewhere in between.
I didn't gob up for the box-- too many middling early covers I'll never listen to, plus the Yellow Submarine soundtrack.
I started with A Hard Day's Night.
The first seven songs are from the movie, and are pretty much magic in a can: A Hard Day's Night, I Should Have Known Better, If I Fell, I'm Happy Just To Dance With You, And I Love Her, Tell Me Why, Can't Buy Me Love.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, and bang.
The back six is not quite as strong. There's a reason you probably couldn't sing I'll Be Back or When I Get Home if I dared you.
But if the whole thing doesn't tickle your spine, you might want to try breathing on a mirror...
Monday, September 14, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
VOULEZ-VOUS
I was looking at my usage stats the other day, and saw that someone from France had stumbled upon this page last week, my 2005 “interview” with Rudolf Schenker of Scorpions.
And I had this vision of a guy for whom perhaps English is not a first language (OK, I call him Jacques—my visions are pretty fleshed out), mistaking this for an actual interview.
In my vision, Jacques is the editor of the premier French Scorpions fanzine (it’s called “Scorpions: Les Maîtres de Rock” and it’s a 64-page, four-color, A4 affair), and he decides to appropriate my piece for an upcoming issue.
And that way, all the Scorpions fans in France and the French-speaking world can enjoy what is my favorite phrase ever in the history of this blog: “the bras bloom like tulips.”
Or as the French say, “la fleur de soutiens-gorge aiment des tulips”…
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
SKIP A LIFE COMPLETELY
Man, did Adventureland ever knock me for a loop.
Let me count the ways.
- Setting. I grew up a couple of miles from the Adventureland that “inspired” the movie-- spent plenty of time there as a kid. Apparently the filmmakers looked to shoot at the Long Island location, but it had been modernized out of the 80s, so they found a more vintage park and changed the setting to Pittsburgh.
- Soundtrack. Husker Du. The Replacements. The JAMC. The Velvet Underground. Hell, the third-album Velvet Underground, specifically. That was my 1987, too.
- The piddling job. I did my time at a Waldbaum's deli counter, slicing meat for the masses (see this blog, name of).
- Romance. Heidi and I came together for a brief moment at the deli. She was a sophomore, a surfer, a Deadhead, adrift. I was none of those things...except adrift. She invited me to a party, and I asked if I could bring a friend. When I showed up with Kenny, she assumed I was gay. I assured her I was not, and we ended the evening with an involved kiss. I had never kissed someone who was as tall as Heidi. We spent time together for the next few weeks. I wrote her poems, we wrote each other letters, and we stayed on the phone into the after hours. She slept in my bed the night before she went back to Binghamton. The poems, letters, and phone calls continued long distance for another couple of weeks, until she was absorbed finally back into life in her dorm. And it was over.
So, yeah-- a loop.
And I tell you, I have never liked being upside down...
Friday, September 04, 2009
Thursday, September 03, 2009
Picked this shirt up in NY at Century 21:
I swear I'm not biting your style, brain coral. It's just a really cool shirt.
Let's call it a tribute...
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
CHIPS AHOY
The best material gift my family brought me from Japan was a jumbo bag of nacho cheese Doritos from Costco.
Japanese nacho cheese Doritos are the platonic ideal of Doritos.
They are smaller than American Doritos, and a single chip can be eaten reasonably in a single bite.
They are slightly thicker, and therefore have a more substantial crunch.
The flavoring is mild, as opposed to the overwhelming orange powder of their American counterparts. This allows for an appropriate balance between the cheese flavor and the corn flavor.
I ran through the whole bag in about a week and a half, and I don't typically snack too much.
Japanese nacho cheese Doritos put the lay in Frito-Lay...
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
I like that Amazon offers 50 albums for download each month at $5 a pop.
I don't like that such a large percentage of the albums suck pepperjack.
Like, if you think you need a copy of Kings of the Wild Frontier, I'm here to tell you that you don't. Not even for a fivver.
This'll do for that...
Monday, August 31, 2009
GOING OFF THE RAILS
You ever have one of those days where you wanted to grab someone by the lapels and just yell in their face “Be less crazy!”?
But (A) they don't have lapels, and/or (B) it wouldn't work?
Well, yeah, that was my Monday.
But it was balanced out by Sebastian telling me after dinner that he wanted to be a dad someday so that he could have “minions.”
Nothing crazy about that...
Friday, August 28, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
SAVE THE WHALES
I can see myself having the same sort of relationship with Bitte Orca that I had with Ships.
That is, initial arms-length admiration mixed with annoyance, followed a year or so later by devoted obsession.
Bitte Orca even has its own second-song line that's currently annoying the fuck out of me (a la “When life's got your goat now/By his tail and by his goat throat...” from Ships): “And what hits the spot, yeah, like Gatorade?”
Stop product placement in indie rock now, bitches.
If you tolerate this, your Toys R Us kids will be next...
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
HUSH HUSH
We have all at one point or another made an album purchase that in the light of time and reflection fills us with shamebarassment.
But, brother/sister, you'd be hard pressed to top the moment back in 1983 when I plunked down $5.99 + tax for a cassette copy of White Feathers by Kajagoogoo...
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
The final of my four Classic Rock downloads from last week was Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me by Elton John.
From 1973 through 1975, Elton released three albums in quick succession: Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, Caribou, and Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy.
And apparently, Elton worked closely with England's National Health to have the covers designed by dangerous mental patients.
I'm telling you, that Caribou cover alone is going to give me cold-sweat nightmares for sure...
Monday, August 10, 2009
My third Classic Rock purchase was My Old School by Steely Dan.
Back when I was a wee lad, I got a kick out of the way they used the words “oleanders” and “Guadalajara.” Had no idea until years later that the song retold events surrounding a pot bust at Bard College.
Even more obscure than the narrative was that opening line: “I remember the 35 sweet goodbyes...”
I'll give you a minute.
(Whistle whistle)
Still nothing?
How about if I told you that the original number in the lyric was 34.5, but they changed it because 34.5 didn't scan well?
(Whistle whistle)
OK, let's work with those numbers a bit. 35 is half of 70. And 34.5 is half of... 69.
So the “35 sweet goodbyes” is meant to represent half of 69, or more specifically, a blow job.
Just in case you forgot that Steely Dan were named after a dildo.
Randy bunch, that...
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
I almost bought two ELO songs, but I couldn't decide. Turn to Stone? Telephone Line? Sweet Talkin' Woman?
Damn you, Jeff Lynne.
So I did the next best thing, and split the difference: Somebody to Love, by Queen.
What I like about this is that it has moments of restraint. Sure, there's all that patented scaramouching going on, and it sounds like Freddie's voice box falls down a flight of stairs toward the end, but there are parts where genuine human emotion appears to be on display. Not too many, of course, because who comes to Queen for that?
Oh, and the guitar solo sounds like it's played by an astrophysicist. Cash!
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
Increased my Classic Rock playlist by four songs last night, the first of which was Livin' Thing by ELO.
Now, the things that make ELO so absurd when considered in our dotage are the very livin' things that make them awesome when we're 10. The slipping and sliding vocals, the rhythmic strings, the echoes echoes echoes.
You know, the whole electric light orchestration of it all.
Well, you can bet that I sat straight back down in my seat when Livin' Thing came on over the credits to Boogie Nights. Wouldn't leave the damn theater until it was over...
Monday, August 03, 2009
I've been waiting forever for-ever-ever forever to see Broadcast in concert.
And now they're coming in October, with Atlas Sound no less, who was a superhero when he opened for Stereolab last year.
I left my browser on the Black Cat site for a week, waiting to buy tickets when they went on sale.
But in the interim I read that Broadcast were now a duo, and that the show would be "stripped down." Well dammit, I want my Broadcast stripped up.
I haven't bought tickets yet-- I think I'll wait to hear some reports when the tour starts...
Thursday, July 23, 2009
If I ever get married, I want to make sure that the Pet Shop Boys medley of Where the Streets Have No Name/Can't Take My Eyes Off You is on the soundtrack.
And I want dry ice.
And lasers. Lasers that spell out "Happy Wedding" in elaborate script.
Plus I want to walk around the reception hall from table to table with a butane torch in my hand, lighting the candle in each centerpiece.
Then I want there to be a giant candle surrounded in a heart shape by smaller candles, which are connected by tissue paper. And I want to light one of the candles at the bottom of the heart and watch the flames travel up both sides until all of the smaller candles are lit.
And I want the giant candle to have a wick that burns all sparkly red when you first light it.
And then I want to hear someone talk about "the future world."
Kind of like these crazy kids...
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Friday, July 17, 2009
Boombox collectors (for yes, there is such a thing) call this their Holy Grail:
Well, slap my ass and call me Jesus— that’s my teenage box!
I went to the Walt Whitman Mall with Nancy one day, and bought it for $200 at Crazy Eddie’s across Route 110. Didn’t have a dime left after that purchase, so we had to scrounge around for change to make two fares on the N-79 bus. We begged from strangers, and dipped into the fountain in front of Macy’s for nickels.
I can still feel the tiny yet perceptible clicks as you pushed the volume slider up:
No future (click) No future (click) No future for youuuuu…
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
I created a Classic Rock playlist in iTunes the other day.
So far, there are just two residents: Stairway to Heaven and Roundabout.
I listened to Stairway last night. Probably the first time in 25 years or so that I’ve listened to it all the way through. Definitely the first time I’ve ever listened through headphones. So my ears were relatively fresh.
Well, let’s just say my mind wandered. All the mock pomp and mock circumstance left me for-real bored.
Roundabout fares better. You really believe these cosmic warriors are invested in the mountains coming out of the sky and standing there. The dipshits mean it man, and commitment is half the battle...
Friday, July 10, 2009
I got an e-mail today from someone on our office services staff. The subject was “Electric fun.”
Now, do I like me some electric fun? Fucks yeah.
I nearly sprained my pointer clicking to open it. The text was simple: “The fun will be here tomorrow.”
Again-- fucks yeah.
In a couple of beats, I remembered that I had ordered a table fan for my office.
Darn. A typo.
Anyway, I'm still holding out for some electric fun. Here's hoping you get some too...
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Thursday, June 25, 2009
A few months ago I mentioned Michael Jackson in passing conversation. Lana crinkled up her nose.
“Ew.”
I understood. But I was curious. What had she heard?
“He's just a weirdo.”
“Well, it's not that simple,” I said.
I called up YouTube and played her the Billie Jean video.
Lana was silent for 4:54, watching with full rapt attention. I didn't need to say anything more.
Rest in peace, Michael.
Ah, but of course, it's not that simple...
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
The Dave Matthews Band have a new album out, and boy howdy, it does not disappoint.
Well, fuck no-- of course I haven't heard it. I'm just referring to the singularly awful title: Big Whiskey and the GrooGrux King.
“But dude,” the hemp-stained wretches would protest, “GrooGrux was the nickname of LeRoi Moore, Dave's fallen band bro. Or maybe it was just Groo. Or Grux. Whatever, dude. Wanna hackey?”
No, hemp-stained wretch-- I most certainly do not want to hackey.
Now turn that baseball cap around and throw out those ratty sandals already. You're 35 for god's sake.
We solid?
Friday, June 12, 2009
You'd expect Olivia Newton-John's cover of John Denver's Take Me Home, Country Roads to be noxious. And by any reasonable measure it is.
But I'm sitting here listening to it right now. I actually paid 89 cents for the damn thing.
The song plays a central role in Whisper of the Heart, written by Miyazaki, and I defy you to watch the movie and be a hater without reserve.
Context is king, my friends...
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Monday, June 08, 2009
Friday, June 05, 2009
Started this week sitting in a wooden rocking chair, looking out at palm trees and feeling tiny fingers of humidity glide across my cheeks. For 5 minutes, I understood the allure of Florida.
Back in NOVA now, where it's been cold and rainy for two days straight.
Back to little obsessions as well, like that brief stretch in Wake Up (from about 1:23 to 1:27: “...colder/And I can...”) where the effects are suddenly removed from Win Butler's vocals.
I like it because it's weird and random, and I can't tell whether it is accident or design.
Kind of like my week, really...
Thursday, May 28, 2009
FLO RIDA
My cell phone has a world clock feature. There’s a little animated globe, with throbbing yellow dots indicating key cities.
Asia, for example, includes dots for Tokyo, Seoul, Taipei, Manila, Beijing, Hong Kong, Jakarta, Hanoi, Singapore, Bangkok, Dhaka, Colombo, and New Delhi.
There are 9 cities listed in the Middle East, 12 in Europe.
And 1 in Africa: Cairo. That’s it. According to Verizon, Cairo is the only African city that rates.
You a racist, cell phone.
I’m Orlando bound on business. See you late next week.
As always, fight the power...
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Back when I bought my first cassette copy of Combat Rock, I was surprised to hear the dialogue from a 2000 Flushes commercial pop up in the middle of Inoculated City.
Well, apparently so were the makers of 2000 Flushes, who didn't want their fine passive toilet-cleaning product associated with The Clash. So the offending section was excised from subsequent releases...
Friday, May 22, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Dear Modest Mouse,
So basically, this is what happened.
I bought The Moon & Antarctica back when. Really liked 3rd Planet, but hoped against hope that the rest of the album was more “The universe is shaped exactly like the earth/If you go straight long enough you end up where you were” than “I've got this thing that I consider my only art of fucking people over.”
Gravity Rides Everything followed, and was probably one of my favorite songs of whatever year that was.
But then by the next song, we were back to “And I'm real damn sure that anyone can, equally easily fuck you over.” And I'm afraid I pretty much cut bait right there. I mean, I might have listened through the rest of the album once or twice, but generally I just stuck with the openers and didn't wade in any farther.
In the end I realize that it wasn't you, it was me. It was needlessly judgmental of me to think that you had an ungenerous view of human nature. I'm like that sometimes, I guess.
Anyway, thanks so much for those two songs.
Peace and regards,
sliced tongue
Monday, May 18, 2009
Some weekend wisdom from the kids:
-I walked in on this conversation.
"You don't want to be a pervert, Sebastian."
"What's a pervert, Lana?"
"Someone who likes girls. Toooo much."
I walked out on this conversation.
-We were listening to a mix, and A-Punk came on.
"Why does he do that?" asked Sebastian, after the last 10 seconds or so resolved to silence.
"I... don't know."
And don't pretend you do either, smartass...
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Random drive-home thoughts:
- Top 2 Beach Boys' Songs I Liked When I Was 9 But Didn't Realize at the Time Were Beach Boys' Songs
- Darlin'
- Sail On Sailor
- If Neutral Milk Hotel were ever to tour again, I think I'd be stricken with Stendahl syndrome just trying to order the fucking tickets.
- That Maps video was pretty damn sweet...
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Monday, May 11, 2009
Friday, May 01, 2009
For all this time I’ve considered The Official Ironmen Rally Song to be an elegy to Kurt Cobain, something along the lines of You’re One and Butch by Imperial Teen: a lesser indie god’s conflicted paean to the one who spilled His blood.
Lines like “To die alone/To build a private zone/Or trigger a synapse/And free us from our traps” and “Confirmations through the wire/Spitting gas into the fire/Have I lost a worthy adversary?” seemed to support this.
Well, for some reason I looked up the lyrics online yesterday, and discovered that Robert Pollard actually sings “To dine alone” not “To die alone.” What’s more, where I heard what I thought was a tinge of a fake British accent in “Have I lost a worthy adversary?” is actually a very Ohio “Am I also worthy of a drink?”
It’s still a great song.
Hell, it might still even be about Kurt.
Sometimes it is in ignorance that we are more content…
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
A couple of weeks back I made a Stereolab mix disc, and named it Mxyplyzyk. It was heavy on the kraut:
Anemie
Escape Pod (From the World of Medical Observations)
French Disko
Heavy Denim
John Cage Bubblegum
Klang Tone
Laissez-Faire
Margerine Rock
Pop Molecule (Molecular Pop 1)
Revox
Stomach Worm
Super-Electric
Transona Five
Transporte Sans Bouger
We're Not Adult Orientated
I figured I'd listen to this for a day or two, but I'm still playing it every day.
All of which says a few things about me.
(1) Stereolab still resonates.
(2) I'm a full-grown natural man, yet I still make mixes.
(3) I name my mixes.
I'm geek like that, bitches...
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
New feature debuting on the tongue: Sliced Tongue Discusses Eight-Year Old Movies That No One Gave a Shit About Even Eight Years Ago.
Today: Bully, directed by Larry Clark.
I think I’ve probably seen this whole movie now, in a few different sittings.
Teen sex, teen drug use, teen anomie, teen creeps? Oh, it's all here baby.
But at it's core the movie is both reactionary and naïve. It confuses bullshit and bravado for biblical truth.
The poor little movie is scared.
And the way it uses gay sex as an easy signifier for deviancy would make proud even the most top-flight bigots...
Friday, April 17, 2009
- Dietary manipulation: Substituting liquid meal replacements for solid food.
- Nudity: Used to cause psychological discomfort.
- Walling: Slamming detainee into a wall.
- Facial slap: Slapping detainee's face with fingers slightly spread.
- Abdominal slap: Striking the abdomen with the back of an open hand.
- Wall standing: Forcing detainee to stand with feet spread, arms outstretched, fingers resting on the wall, not permitted to move.
- Water dousing: Cold water is poured on detainee.
- Sleep deprivation: Detainee is deprived of sleep for more than 48 hours.
- Waterboarding: Pouring water over face of detainee, who is lying at an angle on his back, head lowered.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Went down to Charlottesville on Monday with my sister and her kids.
We hit Plan 9, and I put a used copy of I Can Hear the Heart Beating as One in my sister's hands. Even offered to pay for it.
I fielded some questions from my 13-year old niece:
“Is The Cure good?”
“Um, sure, sometimes. What do they have?”
She pulled out three used discs: Wish, Wild Mood Swings, and Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me.
I took the first two from her, and put them back in the racks without a word. I handed her Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me.
“This is OK. This'll do.”
She then made the mistake of presenting me with a My Chemical Romance disc, while her mom was within earshot.
“Nah, that's emo. You don't want that. You'll just start piercing crap and wearing black eyeliner.”
My sister caught this part of the conversation and promptly vetoed the purchase. I felt like such an inadvertent bastard.
Next time I'll buy my niece a copy of Hissing Fauna and tell her mom that it's about “nature”...
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Thursday, April 09, 2009
Last night I was kicking at a curious bedding of straw in the backyard of an open house, and I uncovered a dead frog.
Which felt particularly, um, biblical. Especially given that it was the first night of Passover.
So I dumped a couple of buckets of lambs' blood on the kids and got the hell out of there.
We won't be making an offer...
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Friday, April 03, 2009
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
I’ve never made a big effort to share my writing with the world. In general, I have not stretched beyond the dear horizon of some indulgent friends.
This blog is really no different. The audience is made up of friends, and the occasional misdirected soul in search of further info on body modification and/or deli meats.
I have always made the fairly safe assumption that there is not a defined audience for anything I’m comfortable doing.
I’m not making a show of being self-critical here. Nor am I applying for status as a misunderstood genius. It just is what it is.
For example, very little in the history to date of this blog has given me more pleasure than working through the first 10 chapters of Halo, and very little likewise tested the gentle reader’s patience to a comparable degree. And I get that.
Gladiola Dialog represents one of my only dalliances with the larger world. Some years ago, the John Lennon Songwriting Contest (which carries Yoko’s imprimatur) included a lyric-writing category.
So, I had the title “Gladiola Dialog”— I liked the way the words looked next to each other, more than anything else— and I decided that a well-selected and well-arranged listing of different types of gladiolas was the best lyrical fit for that title.
I thought this was in good creative communication with Yoko’s roots in the Fluxus movement, and with how that influence cross-pollinated with John’s pop sensibilities.
I wrote a $40 check for the entrance fee, and sent Gladiola Dialog on its way.
When the winners were announced months later, I saw that the grand prize went to a lyric that was a sturdy and able paean to the blues.
I did not expect to win.
But to this day, I don’t know exactly what I did expect…
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Gladiola Dialog
Amberglo
Antique rose
Aztec gold
Blue beauty
Blue symphony
Bombay
Bridal veil
Calliope
Candy cane
Carved ivory
Creation
Daydream
Devotion
Elegance
Emerald
Empire yellow
Eventide
Flamenco
Grand illusion
Isle of fire
Majestic star
Meteorite
Midnight moon
Nectarine
Obsession
Opaline
Painted lips
Peachy keen
Phantom
Rare jewel
Red alert
Red dandy
Regal robe
Saxony
Sheer poetry
Smokestack
Solar flare
Summer rose
Tall dark blue
Top honor
True love
Violence
Visual arts
Thursday, March 26, 2009
You know how I can tell that Hissing Fauna is a genius album? It basically ends with 1/4 of a Pink Floyd song (Labyrinthian Pomp), 3/4 of a Franz Ferdinand song (She's a Rejecter), and about 1/3 of a Cure song (We Were Born the Mutants Again With Leafling), yet still manages to be brilliant.
Winning!
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Next in our series of Broadcast/of Montreal connections: the reference to “Valerie and Her Week of Wonders” from St. Exquisite's Confession.
"Valerie" is a very weird Czech film from 1970, which led to a very beautiful Broadcast song from Haha Sound.
Here's two great tastes that taste great together...
Monday, March 23, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
I'm going to forgo praising Shane for being ambulatory, relatively coherent, and well, alive.
Instead: All hail the Pogues (the band)! I mean, those old buggers are furious, maudlin, and festive, and can change course at the drop of a die.
Can they be sloppy, and fall out of sync just as easily? Well fuck yes, but they're kind of predicated on that, you know...
Monday, March 16, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
I finally figured out a suitable place to put my electronic disco ball.
It hovers in the corner of my desk, spinning like a fabulous planet. The motor groans like a fish-tank filter.
And now my Be@rbricks and their friends have a reason to cross the bridge into Brooklyn.
Currypanman and Kappa Anpanman stand in their dance cages and survey the crowd. Crystal Jelly Be@r downrocks like a mutha. Escher Be@r and Blue Gumby Girl do the robot in mirror form. Qee Keychain Bear checks out their moves, while Saw the Movie Be@r goes full-on Manero.
Brothers and sisters, how deep is your love?
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Finally took the time to watch Once over the weekend. (Full disclosure: I used the closed captioning.)
It was agreeably slight.
I mean, I enjoyed it, but I didn't cry a lick. And I get misty watching the fecking roller derby.
But that scene where they perform Falling Slowly? I've watched that a couple of times each day since.
Damn, that is one fine Oscar-winning song right there...
Friday, March 06, 2009
Got a new cell phone last month, and expanded my ringtone options. Here’s my current list, along with the segment of each song that plays:
Surrender, Cheap Trick
Mommy’s alright, daddy’s alright
They just seem a little weird
Surrender, surrender
But don’t give yourself away…
Gronlandic Edit, of Montreal
I guess it would be nice
To give my heart to a god
But which one, which one do I choose?
All the churches filled with losers
Psycho or confused…
Connection, The Rolling Stones
Connection
I just can’t make no connection
But all I want to do
Is to get back to you.
Everything is going in the wrong direction…
Papercuts, Broadcast
You can’t pretend ‘cause I can see
You’re not the boy you used to be
Trust me with a secret you can’t keep.
I watch your eyes they shift with doubt
So every night when stars come out
I try to read your personality…
King of Carrot Flowers, Part 1, Neutral Milk Hotel
When you were young you were the king of carrot flowers
And how you built a tower tumbling through the trees
In holy rattlesnakes that fell all around your feet...
Did You See the Words, Animal Collective
Do the elderly couples still kiss and hug and grab their big wrinkly skin so tough wrinkly wrink wrink wrinkly rough...
So give me a call sometime. I probably won’t answer, but give me a call…