This has leaked somewhere, somehow, beyond the listening jam sesh that everyone is geeking out about, and while I understand that I should wait until January, you also need to understand that I will not wait. Promising leads? Get at me.
Brain Handle | Smiling b/w Smiling Again | Iron Lung | Black Cola Freaks | Ingenting Set EP | Hjernespind | Black Sex Vid | Drugging | Kill Test | Black Sex Vid | Voyeur | Dom America | Black So Cow | Commuting | Going Underground | White Tyvek | Sidewalk b/w Future Junk | M'Lady's | Black Vivian Girls | I Can't Stay b/w Blind Spot | In the Red | Black
Assassinators | Sigt Efter Hjertet | Alerta Fascista/Rebel Scene | Black Socialcide | Unapproachable | Even Worse/Kangaroo | Black
What's it gonna take to get some Jerkoffs recordings? Fuck the rest of the playlist, gimme some of that. Mainstream queercore representation, true that. I believe "pigfuck" has hit closest to the mark (Wonder what Martin thinks of this). Now if only the LES, fictional or otherwise, fell in line with this again, we might be able to avoid the real clusterfuck that is the faux-fey, anemic, indie blah scene. Newsflash: that tussle look only works when you actually sweat to get it.
The best thing for us all may be for the tide to roll back. The danger's gone, I don't think I've ever really felt it, and maybe that's not so swell. Punk rock for the punks. And cheap food, too.
Light week on the incoming product, heavy week on the outgoing funds. Much bigger update to come in the coming days.
Black SS | Foreign Object | Reaper/Organized Crime | Orange Splatter Black Time | Double Negative | In The Red | Black Harvey Milk | Courtesy and Goodwill Towards Men | Chunklet | Dark Grey 2xLP Harvey Milk | My Love is Higher Than Your Assessment of What My Love Could Be | Chunklet | Red & Gold 2xLP | /80
It's a dubious coincidence that keeps happening at work, this butting up against musicians preying on the appellative arraignment of those that came before. First, it was the Better Beatles, a 1980's Omaha degenerative combo that was the Bizarro Four. These dudes didn't even bother with songwriting, going straight for the hatchet job, and recombining hits like "Penny Lane" into a much more visceral, physical hit. Always to the dome, be it bludgeoned or inhaled.
I blame this on Pandora, as I do the next one. The Dutchess & The Duke channel was on full tilt, with perfect picks rolling out of that robot, so when someone piped up to ask what was on, I got really confused when I read Boris Smile. This is some weird nameology here; what kind of commentary is going on when a folked out band takes band name and album title without any further permutation? How does this relate back to Boris at all, a band already fucking with iconography and its own musical ancestry?
I have no idea. But it has to, for some reason, big or small, superficial or endlessly philosophical. The relationship may be forced, but it's still there. We can't help but draw the connection, the way we can't help but read a word on a page. If you put a hat and a shoe next to each other, after all, you'll try to find meaning, even if the whole point is that it's pointless to try. Imitation is flattery, but I don't know what to call assuming the one concrete thing that can identify something as slippery as identity, a name.
In The Red, Siltbreeze, and Parts Unknown new releases are not included in this batch. Good for me, bad for the bank. I just need to hunt 'em down now...
Amdi Petersen's Arme | Blod Ser Mere Virkeligt Ud Da Film | Havoc | Black Bonneman, P.J. | Jeg Kendte Dem Ikke | Spild Af Vinyl | Black Inmates | Now We Talkin Hardcore! | Kangaroo/Even Worse | Black No Hope For The Kids | Angels of Destruction/Das Reich | Hjernespind | Black Young Wasteners | S/T | Hjernespind | Black
Dead Dog | S/T | Mauled By Tigers | Black Dead Mechanical | Medium Noise | Toxic Pop | White Golden Error | S/T | Shandi/Mind No Mind | Black Hank IV | Third Person Shooter | Hook or Crook | Black Imaginary Icons | S/T | Daggerman | Black | 225/500 Invasion | La Caza | La Vida Es Un Mus | Black Turpentine Brothers | S/T | Alien Snatch | Black
It's been a fun ride down, I'd say...mostly. The sad faces and blue balls on the Street are mildly entertaining (next stop, financial gladiatorial games), but the hammer poised above the heads of those near and dear is still a little too Poe-tic for me. No pendulum, no pit, no thank you.
I can't help but be curious what it looks like when everything breaks, though. I don't want an apocalypse, but I wouldn't mind seeing it. When's our escape from New York going to happen? Is there an end in sight? And more than that, now that the water's pulled all the way back, when does the wave come crashing back? I'm ready to stand on the beach for it.
Because all in all, things are still pretty normal for me. Even weirder, the underground seems to be teeming with even more energy than before. I mean, I can't keep up with all the new stuff coming out. Maybe we're already surfing the wave to the high ground. Maybe we're outside the storm walls, and the levees won't break, and the creative bloom that seems to be in full effect by the people will actually outlive all of these bumps along the road. I like to think that's all going to happen, especially since I'm living in the pecuniary moment, day to day. Savings is a dream. I consider myself investing in today.
Or maybe this is all wrong and I'll be selling apples on the corner wondering how anyone overvalued all that culture produce-waste. Maybe it really is back to basics, not back to the future.