EVERYONE'S ACCUSING ME

I'm a fan of Continuum's 33 1/3 series. These are bite-sized books each dedicated to a single album, and some are quite insightful and entertaining.

However, others feel like they're fighting a bit too hard for a tenure track.

To wit, I just finished reading the entry on the Ramones' debut album, and commenting on the “second verse, same as the first” refrain in Judy is a Punk, the author notes:

"Although too much could be made of the affinities between these self-reflexive lines and experiments in metafiction-- fiction that breaks the frame and refers to the fact that it is fiction-- it's clear that the songs self-aware qualities were products of the same cultural trends that made possible the experimental, frame-breaking novels of Kurt Vonnegut, Thomas Pynchon, Hubert Selby, Charles Bukowski, William Gaddis, and others.”

Um, yeah. Either that, or it is a direct quote from one of the biggest hits by British Invasion popsters Herman's Hermits: I'm Henry the VIII, I Am:





Just my opinion you understand, but I think it's important for someone writing a book on the Ramones to know their Herman's Hermits at least as well as they know their Horkheimer and Adorno...

THERE'S NO REASON TO GRIEVE

Click. Refresh. Click. Refresh. Click. Refresh. Click. Refresh. Click. Sold out. Fuck.

That was the sound from a few days ago of not getting tickets to either of two September Jeff Mangum shows in Baltimore.

However, my disappointment turned fairly quickly, and I found it heartening that there is such apparent enthusiasm for these shows.

It says to me that there are a good number of people out there in the mid-Atlantic states for whom Neutral Milk Hotel (and probably more to the point, In the Aeroplane Over the Sea) remains meaningful.

And when you get right down to it, a world in which In the Aeroplane Over the Sea is meaningful is a pretty good world.

So I'll recast my initial reaction in retrospect:

Click. Refresh. Click. Refresh. Click. Refresh. Click. Refresh. Click. Sold out. Fantastic.

Enjoy the show, friends!

LOVE AND SPECIAL THINGS

It's been a long time since I've written a song. This one pestered me the other night until I got out of bed and took 10 minutes to type out the words...

DECORATIVE MONEY

What's wrong with us?
Just decorative money.

That's all it was,
Just decorative money.


The wallpaper
Is decorative money.

We've got albums of it...
Fucking decorative money.


It's in my sinuses--
Decorative money.

I can't sing because
Of decorative money.


I shine my shoes
With decorative money.

I stand accused--
Decorative money.


What a lot of misery
The junkman comes to visit me
He brings me bags of credit
And he brings me sacks of cash.

My interest compounds dai-lily
I bank this month's fidelity
And all the shit you're selling me
Is decorative money.

And then I waltz away with it...

VERB AND REVERB

What's new with me beyond Tune-Yards?

Wait, sorry.

wHaT's NeW wItH mE bEyOnD tUnE-YaRdS?

Sweet of you to ask...

I like Tomboy well enough, but my mind starts to drift by around track 5. So, like Person Pitch, only less so (or more so, maybe).

I really like Moondance, but I've never met anyone I really like who really likes Moondance. Am I a self-hating Van man?

I decided long ago that my favorite coin ever is the 1908-1929 US half eagle. Nothing even comes close.

Hurry up with the 64GB iPhone, Apple. I'm tired of having to decide which albums/apps to sideline whenever I load up something new.

There's a good chance I'll never play the live set that came free with my copy of Tomboy. Apologies, Panda Bear.

I impulse bought the new Fleet Foxes a couple of weeks ago at Nordstrom while I was paying for a Chicago Cubs t-shirt. I'm not a Cubs fan, but I like their shirts. Not really a Fleet Foxes fan either-- haven't even unsealed the CD yet...

I scoffed when I saw that iTunes was going to be offering the Beatles Anthology set for $80. That's a lot of money for a lot of chaff. But then I saw that they're also going to sell something called Anthology Highlights for $13-- that's got potential.

I don't get Death Cab for Cutie. Never have.

Likewise The Shins.

And finally, this, from the Sept 1966 issue of Mad (which, yes, I was reading last weekend):