Walkie Talkies

Lode/Load: February 6, 2009

2010-02-07T02:54:00.001-05:00

Lode/Load: January 24, 2009

2010-01-24T18:26:00.002-05:00

Lode/Load: November 15, 2009

2009-11-15T14:47:00.002-05:00

Lode/Load: November 8, 2009

2009-11-08T20:09:00.002-05:00

Lode/Load: October 25, 2009

2009-10-25T22:45:00.002-04:00

Just one of those days.

EP’s:

Lode/Load: October 11, 2009

2009-10-11T14:20:00.003-04:00

EP’s:

Lode/Load: October 4, 2009

2009-10-04T15:17:00.003-04:00

Wait, what happened to September? I guess this did?

EP’s:

Lode/Load: August 30, 2009

2009-08-30T14:35:00.002-04:00

EP’s:

Lode/Load: August 23, 2009

2009-08-23T20:48:00.002-04:00

San Francisco's still doomed.

78’s:

Girls | Hellhole Ratrace b/w Solitude | Fantasy Trashcan | Black | 436/500

Lode/Load: August 15, 2009

2009-08-15T20:12:00.004-04:00

Back in business at the brand new place. And boy, have we been busy.

Lode/Load: July 26, 2009

2009-07-26T02:47:00.004-04:00

Big things in the works. Until then, though, just some big purchases. Embarking on a Robert Pollard collection that will probably destroy me. Such is life.

EP's:

Fergus & Geronimo | Harder Than It's Ever Been b/w Last Letter | Woodsist | Black

Real Estate | Fake Blues b/w Pool Swimmers | Woodsist | Black

LP's:

Amen Dunes | Dia | Locust Music | Black

Built to Spill | Keep It Like a Secret | City Slang | Black

Cold Cave | Love Comes Close | Heartworm | Black

Earthmen and Strangers | S/T | FDH | Black

Generation of Vipers | S/T | Landmark | Black

Go Back Snowball | Calling Zero | Fading Captain Series | Black | #17

Songs for Moms | I Used to Believe in the West | Thrillhouse | Black

Summer Cats | Songs for Tuesdays | Slumberland | Rainbow Splatter

Teenage Cool Kids | Foreign Lands | Protagonist | Translucent Teal

Waits, Tom | Mule Variations | Anti- | Black 2xLP

Yeah Yeah Yeahs | Show Your Bones | Interscope | Black

Lode/Load: July 19, 2009

2009-07-17T01:41:00.006-04:00

EP's:

Brain Killer | S/T | Deranged | Black

Brain Killer | Demo | Deranged | Black

Mantles | Don't Lie b/w Secret Heart | Mt. St. Mtn. | Black

Social Circle | S/T | Violent Horror Comedy/Retarded | Black

Style Council | Money-Go-Round (Parts1+2) | Polydor | Black

Vile, Kurt | Fall Demons | Skulltones | Black

Whatever Brains | Mt. Whatever | Bull City | Black

Woven Bones | Your Sorcery b/w Howl 'n Woof | Sweet Rot | Black

Bri White/James Fella | Split | Gilgongo | Blue

LP's:

Barfield, Cecil | South Georgia Blues | Mississippi | Black

Cohen, Tim | The Two Sides of... | Empty Cellar/Secret Seven | White | 54/250

Cribs | Men's Needs, Women's Needs, Whatever | Warner Bros. | Black

Future of the Left | Curses | Too Pure | Black

Future of the Left | Travels With Myself and Another | 4AD | Black

Gaslight Anthem | '59 Sound | SideOneDummy | Black

Gaslight Anthem | Sink or Swim | Hellbent | Clear

Mount Eerie | Live in Cophenhagen | Burnt Toast | Black 3xLP

Shitty Limits | Beware the Limits | Sorry State | Black

War on Drugs | Wagonwheel Blues | Secretly Canadian | Black

Lode/Load: July 12, 2009

2009-07-11T19:54:00.006-04:00

First missive coming to you from the left coast. Strange, but good. As rough as it was to leave the New York shops, San Francisco does not slack, and I forgot about that. First week, and Amoeba and Aquarius are already treating me great again.

EP's:

Mantles | S/T | Dulc-I-Tone | Black

LP's:

Animal Collective | Danse Manatee | Fat Cat | Black

Bellafea | Cavalcade | Southern | Clear

Blues Control | Local Flavor | Siltbreeze | Black

Bowerbirds | Upper Air | Dead Oceans | Black

Discovery | LP | XL | Black

Fearless Iranians From Hell | Foolish Americans | Boner | Black

Murrow, Edward R. | I Can Hear It Now... | Columbia | Black

Postal Service | Give Up | Sub Pop | Black 2xLP

Rainy Day Regatta | Living As We Do in the Midst of So Much Ordered Light and Noise | S/R | Black | One-Sided

Wrangler Brutes | Tape | X-Mist | Black

Black Time/Ty Segall | Split | Telephone Explosion | Black

Lode/Load: July 5, 2009

2009-06-24T21:07:00.012-04:00

Lode/Load: June 21, 2009

2009-06-09T23:58:00.012-04:00

Lode/Load: June 7, 2009

2009-06-07T21:13:00.003-04:00

This actually hurts to read...

2009-05-13T13:23:00.002-04:00

Not to be outdone by Brian Williams, CNN stoops to a new low and delivers a fluffy-serious interview with signs-of-the-end-times hypeballs Chester French. Now, there's a lot of reasons to dislike, most rational, some largely irrational. There's the hokey image, the dilletantism, and the excruciatingly painful music. And yet, they're here to show that "If you have whack taste and you work hard, your shit will suck, unavoidably probably" doesn't hold any water when you've got the less-talented half of the Neptunes giving you a piggy back ride.

I don't want to seem bitter, though. I'll let the self-clowning stand for itself:

CNN: What has been the most surprising aspect of the music business so far?

Wallach: I think the biggest surprise has been that people don't really know a hundred percent what they're doing. Everyone is trying to figure out how the music business is going to look in 10 years.

And as a new artist there's not a blueprint. I figured you'd get signed and you're instantly on billboards. And the reality of it is that we find ourselves in a situation where all we can focus on is building our audience one person at a time. And it's just a brick-and-mortar, nose-to-the-grindstone process.

Acumen, insight, and a whole lot of black cookware.

CNN: Why do you think there's been all this interest from hip-hop producers?

Drummey: We're the hottest rappers out.

Wallach: I'm from Milwaukee, he's from Boston. They're both very diverse cities and we grew up with friends and all different kinds of music around us. So the records we make are inspired by a lot of different places.

Failed that joke like he failed at wedlock. At least we've got Milwaukee-Boston corridor o' eclecticism keepin' it real.

CNN: How does it feel to be called the next big thing?

D.A. Wallach: You know what, we actually haven't been called that in those words too often. But if we did, that would be very flattering.

Well, we can at least agree on that.

Lode/Load: May 10, 2009

2009-05-10T20:58:00.001-04:00

Lode/Load: May 3, 2009

2009-05-03T13:15:00.002-04:00

A lesson in perspective, or, "Dance of Days" reconsidered

2009-04-28T17:44:00.009-04:00

This is not okay because major corporations shouldn't be cashing in on the fame and notoriety of underground icons.

This is okay because a man who fought The Man through suburban hardcore music warfare is cashing in on his own fame and notoriety as an underground icon.

This is okay because an original band member and Dischord worker is selling it. From his personal punk archive. "Good luck finding another copy in such pristine condition." Thanks, Jeff Nelson!

Does the first press Minor Threat EP come with a "Pay no more than" stamp? I'm just wondering if the tragic irony of cashing in on the supposedly not-for-sale is as blatantly obvious as it seems.

Bonus points for the nonchalant doublespeak to remind everyone just who the seller was. Punk profiteering while riding the nostalgia wave produced a nice boost to the ol' self-esteem. Not to mention a significant overage on what that record normally fetches.

I guess this is growing up, right?

Lode/Load: April 26, 2009

2009-04-26T11:14:00.003-04:00

Lode/Load: April 19, 2009

2009-04-19T19:18:00.006-04:00

Lode/Load: April 12, 2009

2009-04-06T20:26:00.015-04:00

Lode/Load: April 5, 2009

2009-04-05T13:51:00.004-04:00

The rockist's arithmetic; subtraction, to be specific

2009-03-30T17:42:00.005-04:00

2 Live Crew – As Clean As They Wanna Be
AC/DC – Back in Black
AC/DC – For Those About To Rock
AC/DC – Highway to Hell
Agnostic Front – Cause for Alarm
Animal Collective – FEELS
Aphrodite’s Child – 666
Arcade Fire – Funeral
Aretha Franklin – Amazing Grace
Arthur Russell – World of Echo
The Beatles – The Beatles
The Bee Gees – Best of the Bee Gees, Volume 1
Ben Folds Five – The Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner
Big Country – The Crossing
Bill Fox – Transit Byzantium
Black Uhuru - Showcase
Bob Dylan – Self Portrait
Bob Dylan – Time Out of Mind
Britney Spears – Blackout
Bruce Springsteen – Darkness on the Edge of Town
The Cars – The Cars
The Chills – Submarine Bells
The Cramps – Songs the Lord Taught Us
Crowded House – Together Alone
Cyndi Lauper – She’s So Unusual
Daft Punk – Discovery
D’Angelo – Voodoo
David Bowie – The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars
Devo – Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo
Digital Underground – Sex Packets
Dinosaur Jr. – You’re Living All Over Me
Donovan – Gift From a Flower to a Garden
Drive-By Truckers – Southern Rock Opera
The Drones – Gala Mill
Duran Duran – Rio
The Eagles – Greatest Hits
ELO – Out of the Blue
Emmylou Harris – Pieces of the Sky
Erykah Badu – Mama’s Gun
Fairport Convention – Liege and Lief
The Fall – Hex Enduction Hour
Fennesz – Endless Summer
Fugazi – 13 Songs
Fugazi – In On the Kill Taker
Garth Brooks – (in…) The Life of Chris Gaines
Gary Numan and Tubeway Army – Replicas
Gary Wilson – You Think You Really Know Me
Genesis – The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway
Gillian Welch – Time (The Revelator)
Girl Talk – Night Ripper
Grateful Dead – Anthem of the Sun
Grateful Dead – The Closing of Winterland
Hall and Oates – Rock ‘n’ Soul Part One
Herb Alpert – Whipped Cream and Other Delights
The Hold Steady – Separation Sunday
Husker Du – Zen Arcade
The Incredible String Band – The Hangman’s Beautiful Daughter
The Incredible String Band – Wee Tam and the Big Huge
Iron Maiden – Iron Maiden
J Dilla – Donuts
The Jam – All Mod Cons
Jane’s Addiction – Ritual de lo Habitual
Jawbreaker – 24 Hour Revenge Therapy
Jefferson Airplane – Crown of Creation
Jellyfish – Spilt Milk
Jimmy Eat World – Clarity
John Lennon – Live in New York City
Johnny Cash – American Recordings
Kanye West – 808 & Heartbreak
Karen Dalton – In My Own Time
Kiss – Destroyer
The Knack – Get the Knack
Kraftwerk – Trans-Europe Express
Lauryn Hill – The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill
Leonard Cohen – Songs of Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen – Various Positions
Lil’ Wayne – Da Drought 3
Little Feat – Sailin’ Shoes
Liz Phair – Exile in Guyville
Lou Reed – Metal Machine Music
Madonna – Ray of Light
Main Source – Breaking Atoms
Manu Chao – Clandestino
Massive Attack – Blue Lines
The Mekons – Fear and Whiskey
The Melvins – Lysol
Metallica – Metallica
Metallica – Master of Puppets
M.I.A. – Kala
The Millennium – Begin
Moby Grape – Moby Grape
Modest Mouse – The Lonesome Crowded West
The Monkees – Head
Mothers of Invention – Freak Out!
The Mountain Goats – All Hail West Texas
Namco – Katamari Fortissimo Damacy
Neil Young – Tonight’s the Night
New Order – Power, Corruption and Lies
New York Dolls – New York Dolls
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds – Tender Prey
NWA – Straight Outta Compton
The O’Jays – Back Stabbers
Operation Ivy – Energy
Paul Simon – Graceland
Pearl Jam – Vitalogy
Pere Ubu – Dub Housing
Pharcyde – Bizarre Ride II the Pharcyde
Phil Ochs – Rehearsals for Retirement
Phish – Junta
Phish – Rift
Pink Floyd – The Wall
The Police - Synchronicity
Portishead – Dummy
Public Image Limited – Metal Box
Pussy Galore – Exile on Main Street
Radiohead – Kid A
Rage Against the Macine – Evil Empire
Randy Newman – Good Old Boys
Red Hot Chili Peppers – Blood Sugar Sex Magik
REM – Automatic for the People
The Residents – Commercial Album
Richard Hell and the Voidoids – Blank Generation
The Rolling Stones – Some Girls
Rush – Moving Pictures
Sandy Denny – Sandy
Scott Walker – The Drift
Sleater-Kinney – One Beat
Slint – Spiderland
Smashing Pumpkins – Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness
Steve Reich – Music for 18 Musicians
The Strokes – Is This It
Suicide – Suicide
Talk Talk – Spirit of Eden
Talking Heads – Remain in Light
Television – Marquee Moon
They Might Be Giants – Flood
They Might Be Giants - Lincoln
Townes Van Zandt – Townes Van Zandt
USA for Africa – We Are the World
Vampire Weekend – Vampire Weekend
Van Halen – MCMLXXXIV
Various Artists – Dave Godin’s Deep Soul Treasures Vol 1
Various Artists – O Brother, Where Art Thou? Soundtrack
Various Artists – Reservoir Dogs soundtrack
The Violent Femmes – Violent Femmes
Warren Zevon – Warren Zevon
Ween – Chocolate and Cheese
The White Stripes – White Blood Cells
Wilco – Yankee Hotel Foxtrot
Woody Guthrie – Dust Bowl Ballads
X-Ray Spex – Germ Free Adolescents
X – Los Angeles
X – More Fun in the New World
XTC – Wasp Star (Apple Venus Vol 2)
Yoko Ono – Plastic Ono Band
Young Jeezy – Let’s Get It
Young Marble Giants – Colossal Youth
The Zombies – Odessey and Oracle

170 albums. Ready to be written up (the story behind, that is). And not too bad a range, either. But this is the long short list. We need a short short list. And that's where the trouble begins.

AC/DC - Highway to Hell
Aretha Franklin - Amazing Grace
The Beatles - The Beatles
Bob Dylan - Time Out of Mind
The Cramps - Songs the Lord Taught Us
David Bowie - Ziggy Stardust
Devo - Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo
Dinosaur Jr: You're Living All Over Me
ELO - Out of the Blue
Grateful Dead - Closing of Winterland
Johnny Cash - American Recordings
Kiss - Destroyer
Leonard Cohen - Songs of Leonard Cohen
Lil' Wayne - Da Drought 3
Liz Phair - Exile in Guyville
Lou Reed - Metal Music Machine
Neil Young - Tonight's the Night
Operation Ivy - Energy
Paul Simon - Graceland
Radiohead - Kid A
Rolling Stones - Some Girls
Slint - Spiderland
Television - Marquee Moon
Violent Femmes - Violent Femmes
Ween - Chocolate and Cheese
White Stripes - White Blood Cells
Young Marble Giants - Colossal Youth

An odd statement from David a while back was about how each of the long shortlisted came with pitches that had "something" about them. "Enough to make me think they'd make a book worth reading." Which strikes me funny, because first and foremost I'd think the record should make you think there's a book worth reading first. But that's not not quite right, either. There's some kind of middle ground behind popularity, critical response, and back story that come together

Are we saying that the only album stories worth hearing are the classic ones? Outsized, with big set-pieces and unwieldy personalities? Because that seems to run counter to the kind of work such slight but focused books these can be. Why not more of the Jawbreaker's and the Fennesz's and the Britney Spears's of the world? The short short list takes a sliver of radio-approved albums for rockin' dads and their college radio sons. Occam's Razor makes the cut based on economics, obviously, but it still smacks of rockism. Insidiously reinforcing and even growing the canon while still locking the door behind.

Untold stories aren't the only stories worth telling. And if you go back through the list, it's a lot of bands and artists at the forefront of pop-consciousness that get diced. Kiss and their painted antics get the nod, but what about 2 Live Crew? I can only hope that it's the writers that were deemed of poorer quality and not the stories. But even then, I have a hard time imagining why some records were eliminated barring complete incoherency.

Is this pitch and refine method the best way to tell the stories of these records? What if the albums were decided first, and then the writers? A little A&R to cure the A&R blues? And does this alleviate the issues of selective rockism, or just exacerbate it? The 33 1/3 series will by no means be the Library of Alexandria for albums (unless it really wanted to), but there's the potential the potential to produce insightful historical documents of musical and genearl significance makes it too alluring to let it slip into a Rolling Stone pipe dream.

These books are something of a niche market unto themselves, capitalizing on vinyl references and a lot of smart music. They've even got John Darnielle in on the act. And yet one of his records didn't make the cut.

This idea of a fractured culture of niche has been under fire for a while, and it's becoming hard to ignore. A monoculture seems to have reemerged, but one this time with two channels that co-exist: the frivolous single culture that is instantaneous, bloggable, and completely detachable, and the traditional album culture that still warrants journalism with a capital PhD. The difference is that what lies out of the mainstream, or recent memory, has become the Holy Grail more so than the establishment's steady release. Yeah, Bob Dylan, U2, and even Radiohead still get a pass, but it's the bedroom history that's growing in appeal. Hidden secrets aren't any good as hidden secrets anymore. They have to be classics, too.

Lode/Load: March 29, 2009

2009-03-30T01:28:00.002-04:00

Who're the newest kids on the block? And whose block is it?

2009-03-26T11:40:00.004-04:00

Kids today. Teenage Cool Kids are just coppin' style from The Cool Kids. That's the legal argument, at least. Who knows how long that document will stick around, but here's the long and short of it: The Cool Kids own coolness. Period. And don't you dare let your name encroach or confuse those poor fans who are looking for authentic inauthentic-eighties rap with your authentic inauthentic-nineties indie rock. (Serious aside: I'm a fan of both).

I don't think this could've come at a more relevant time when you consider Carles' latest post. If you take the thesis statement - Your band is a meme that generates new submemes for people 2 consume on a regular basis [sic] - and start breaking down the sequence of events, you've got some slam dunk evidence to back it up (as if it was needed).

The Cool Kids are coasting along. Teenage Cool Kids do it big at SXSW. The Cool Kids send a C&D. Teenage Cool Kids post to a message board. Media world picks it up. Hilarity and attention-grabbing ensues. By the way, have you heard about our new record? Coming out soon, check us out on myspace! The ecosystem remains balanced.

Reading over that document, you have to wonder who exactly wrote this. It doesn't have the flow of Mikey or Chuck "just tryna let niggas know who I is," and despite the legalese flourishes, it certainly doesn't have the dry, coherent unintelligibility of a real lawyer. From the overdramatics of the unrelenting ascent to the unfortunate band name misspelling (Cook Kids, guys?), this smells of publicist. Or one attention-whoring Loblaw-at-Law. Meanwhile Teenage Cool Kids keeps it D.I.Y. and mobilizes the base. Nods all around.

This whole thing is going to be a non-issue by the time April Fool's rolls around. How can you really "own" that name? What about Black Kids? Cooler Kids? Hell, weren't the Kids pretty fucking cool? It's a good stunt, one that's going to be entertaining for at least another couple of days, but the armchair lawyers are soon going to be out of a job again.

Pro-tip to bands lookin' for an edge: change your name to The Cook Kids and get a piece of the action.

Lode/Load: March 22, 2009

2009-03-22T18:58:00.003-04:00

Lode/Load: March 15, 2009

2009-03-15T23:56:00.002-04:00

Lode/Load: March 8, 2009

2009-03-08T16:29:00.003-04:00

Lode/Load: March 1, 2009

2009-03-01T22:46:00.002-05:00

Lode/Load: February 22, 2009

2009-02-22T17:38:00.003-05:00

Lode/Load: February 15, 2009

2009-02-12T18:36:00.006-05:00

Lode/Load: February 1, 2009

2009-02-01T23:51:00.002-05:00

Lode/Load: January 25, 2009

2009-01-24T19:24:00.004-05:00

Lode/Load: January 18, 2009

2009-01-18T14:57:00.002-05:00

Lode/Load: January 11, 2009

2009-01-11T18:47:00.002-05:00

Getting back on board...

2009-01-07T00:01:00.001-05:00

Vacation, holidays, negligence, and now technical difficulties have caused some temporary setbacks. Anticipate on being back in the saddle by this weekend, barring any further technological and/or social collapse.

Happy 2009!

YOU'RE irrelevant!

2008-12-17T18:26:00.004-05:00

Soundcheck asks the loaded question, staging the next round in the "everyone's a critic" vs. "no one's a critic" neverending title bout. Irrelevant, irreplaceable, both, none of the above, I don't know. I'm not sure it's really worth that much sweat, either, not in the way the question is currently being framed. I think the job, role, hobby, fetish, whatever it is has shifted. It's less gatekeeper, more curator. There's just too much, both in breadth and depth. I'd say what the grassroots armchair off-the-shelfers do is absolutely necessary for the salaried wordsmiths. Rolling Stone can do the Dylan worship without any support, but who's going to make sure Bon Iver goes from self-released to #29 in less than a year?

Lode/Load: December 15, 2008

2008-12-15T22:18:00.004-05:00

Lode/Load: December 13, 2008

2008-12-13T23:15:00.002-05:00

Lode/Load: December 7, 2008

2008-12-07T14:18:00.004-05:00

I don't understand numbers with that many commas.

2008-12-04T22:46:00.003-05:00

Time for some more motherfucking basement art/rage.

Lode/Load: November 30, 2008

2008-11-30T00:24:00.005-05:00

Lode/Load: November 29, 2008

2008-11-29T11:44:00.004-05:00

ATTN: WORLD

2008-11-27T12:32:00.000-05:00

I am listening to Chinese Democracy right now.

Lode/Load: November 23, 2008

2008-11-23T21:41:00.003-05:00

Polyvinyl is having a Black Friday sale...

2008-11-20T00:13:00.003-05:00

All those records I've always put off saying "Oh, I'll get them some other time..."

Forgive me, Lord, for what I am about to do...

1 x 31Knots - The Days and Nights of Everything Anywhere LP - Black
1 x 31Knots - Talk Like Blood LP - 180 Gram Black
1 x Braid - Frame and Canvas LP - 180 Gram Black
1 x American Football - American Football LP - 180 Gram Black
1 x Kyle Fischer - Open Ground LP - 180 Gram Black
1 x Collections of Colonies of Bees - Customer LP - White
1 x Make Believe - Shock of Being LP - 180 Gram Black
1 x Make Believe - Going to the Bone Church LP - 180 Gram Black
1 x Owen - Package: All 4 Owen LPs Package Deal
1 x Rainer Maria - Long Knives Drawn LP - Black
1 x Rainer Maria - A Better Version of Me LP - Black
1 x Rainer Maria - Look Now Look Again LP - 180 Gram Black

...

"Thank you for ordering from Polyvinyl."

“Now we've seen what happens when tens of millions of choices are thrown in the air and land on the floor.”

2008-11-19T09:48:00.004-05:00

This has been the dreamt-of shape of things to come. Digital music is supposed to break format and form, dissolving binds and allowing for more fluid audio consumption. It rewards quantities of quality over multitudinous shit yoked to a couple workhorse tracks. This is the saviour of the music; with the demise of the head, that strange oligarchy of predestined hitmakers, the utopian tail takes over. It's like playing on the floor in front of the stage. Power transfers from Empire Records' "The Man" to Radiohead, Brian Eno, and the little guys, from big-britched Sub Pop to Brooklyn bedroom operations. Diltettantism finds a charitable end.

Too bad that's what the tail actually looks like for digital music, maligned into resembling the exact same shape as, guess what, the brick-and-mortar industry dinosaur's sales curve. Turns out they're not that different. And what do you expect? Instead of non-purchases, you have "theft." Sampling, laziness, righteous indignation, general indifference, or maybe even just a different consumption paradigm motivate the savvy music downloader, while the people buying digital music are probably the same inclined to shop at Tower or Best Buy. Effectively, there's no real difference, just a different arena.

That's not to say that the long tail doesn't have its purposes, or even its truths. I think it just requires a different consideration of what the "industry" is, and how artists can support themselves. Trying to convert the historic model of superstardom and name recognition into a scalable middle class model doesn't work, because the tail doesn't necessarily pertain to economics. What it does pertain to, however, is the idea that the cottage industry can have a much bigger, albeit still relatively small, splash in a much bigger pond. I've said it before, but this is the Era of the Amateur. A return to multidisciplinarianism. The reintegration of music into everyday life as an art, a hobby, an honest-to-God passion.

The fallacy of the digital medium's vestigial tail speaks to the importance of both permanence and physicality that music now possesses. If you want that party jam, just because, you're still not going to pay for it. CD death doesn't necessarily mean that iTunes will be able to sculpt a phoenix out of the ashes. A real patron will still buy the record, with mp3 download now included. So keep on pressin' and rippin'. I'm buying in.

The dinosaur reflects...

2008-11-17T15:10:00.003-05:00

With an attempt at amplifying the whimper, TRL went out yesterday. I didn't see it, nor did I care to, as its prolonged half-decade decline hadn't given me any reason to rush off the bus and catch The After School Special, competing in the same time slot as Christopher Lowell for the stay home moms. "Hegemony" gets tossed around a bunch when talking about TRL's run through the nineties and up to the less serious pre-9/11 years, and I think that's pretty fair. It was also the last bastion of music on Music Television; now with the surreality of "Paris Hilton's My New BFF" (rightfully) heading up the fleet, maybe the diaspora's actually finished. The ghost given up.

Idolator has the best analysis/nostalgia trip I've seen so far. They also provided me with the TRL Top Ten, as far as influential videos on the teen scream fest:

1. Britney Spears - Baby One More Time (1/12/99)
2. Eminem - The Real Slim Shady (6/30/00)
3. Backstreet Boys - I Want It That Way (6/29/99)
4. N*Sync - Bye Bye Bye (3/14/00)
5. Christina Aguilara - Dirrty (10/15/02)
6. Kid Rock - Bawitdaba (2/15/00)
7. Beyonce feat. Jay-Z - Crazy in Love (6/15/03)
8. Usher feat. Ludacris and Lil Jon - Yeah (10/5/04)
9. Blink-182 - What’s My Age Again (10/17/00)
10. OutKast - Hey Ya! (9/15/03)

I gotta say, that's pretty damn good, even with the holes. No Aaliyah? And what about "The Boy Is Mine," or the Nas/Diddy crucifix controversy?

It's strange that I can still recall those incidental occurrences from almost ten years back in some cases, but maybe it speaks to the power of TRL, when it really served as the pop(ulist) forum for music that everyone could/should agree on. It was all about mass appeal, and they never failed, until new forms that allowed for even more direct contact than that television dinosaur.

Maybe I'll check in on it, after all...

Wear what you hear...

2008-11-17T11:26:00.004-05:00

Sounds.Butter is my new favorite people.

Sound as artifact is such a fraught arena, because there's really no limits to what can be done, considering the impossibility of really capturing solid audio. Digital forms exacerbate this; it gets closer in proximity, but lacks the elegance of a wave. Using the sewing machine, which operates on its own pattern creation, turned into a speaker, or an oscilloscope, is really pretty ingenious. And sartorializing audio certainly makes you reconsider the vestigial trappings that really are rather arbitrary compared to the wave form's fidelity to the original.

TV on the Radio on the silver screen...

2008-11-17T00:09:00.003-05:00

Jonathan Demme may have seen the inevitability of post-Election Day 2008 America before anyone else, though it's hardly an original premonition. Watching Rachel Getting Married made think first how unimportant and boring this kind of dead-sibling-rehab-trainwreck-life narrative of familial salvation is, but how it can be set in a truly mesmerizing melting pot world.

It doesn't explode for Demme. The sticks of butter he drops into the crock don't just merge at the seams, they homogenize thoroughly and are poured back into wholy recognizable casts. There's no depth, though, just a pure surface meaning that is intent on legibility and first impression. Here's a movie that is post-class, post-race, post-taste, even; there is something that is good, and there is something that is bad, and further distinguishment isn't necessary. Campy but expensive. Personal but expansive. Wholly inclusive but wholly insular, too. This is a petri dish that you could say was a success, but you still leave confined to the lab.

Where else are you picked up from rehab in an dusty, old-money Mercedes to be ferried to the rustic throwback suburban family manner? To be a part of an Indian wedding of your white tri-state area shrink sister and her black, Hawaiian, probably musician-entrepreneur husband? It's all so perfectly crafted to feel like home, that you never consider that this weird place doesn't exist. Where two strange families actually fit into the puzzle, adoring musical toasts from rappers, indie rockers, old jazz hands, and a couple of kids who contort Hendrix's guitar burning sound from a national anthem to a wedding march.

It's only right that Tunde Adibempe, lead singer of TV on the Radio, masters of cultural elision, is the bridesgroom, and delivers the best performance. His presence alone imbues the whole scenario with some kind of credibility, and when he speaks, it's as if to say "I don't need to participate in this fiction." If only he could've shown how on to something Demme was, and gotten the yawnful narrative arc dropped for the strangeness of this dramatized home video for the perfect hipster-as-mainstream wedding.

Note: Almost forgot to mention how fucking cool Adibempe is, clearly. Dude is legit.

Jawshrine or Crimpbreaker?

2008-11-16T02:54:00.002-05:00

Blake Schwarzenbach and Aaron Cometbus have a new band? And they played in Brooklyn this week? This should be interesting...

After the Jawbreaker and Crimpshrine break-ups, I've been more compelled by the other projects that have sprung up, as opposed to the respective principals' efforts. But with the supporting cast from each of those bands temporarily out of the game for now, I have to wonder if the team-up will be as wonderful as everyone wants it to be...or if it's just going to be two old guys singing about their feelings. Do superpowers still have superpowers?

The clip isn't enough to really judge anything, but it's got me optimistic that yes they can.

More details? From the 'breaker himself:

“I can say only that it’s loud and tender and we’re called the Thorns Of Life. whether it’s more Jetsesque or Breaker-like I honestly don’t know; It sounds like a storehouse of fond hatred from the last few years and in the now.”

"Somehow weird or sloppy..."

2008-11-15T05:24:00.004-05:00

The idea is that now that we embraced a change agent-in-chief, we have to do the work of supporting the (hopefully evolutionary) transformation of the future. It's being tossed around all over the place, perhaps best by an article about Obamaism in New York magazine; it's our specific brand of what should be called Futurism except for the sneaky artists who stole it.

I always had a hard time imagining this kind of future. There's a fog of war that still shrouds anything past January 20th, but I can't help but hope that the gears really have started turning. Because it's a responsibility that the activist in everyone has to take up. Josie's review of the new Cause Co-Motion! collection of EP's, from 2005 to 2008, is notable not just because she writes with such grace and acumen, but also because her final critique of the oxymoronically named band challenges not just their ho-hum past sound, but the culture as a whole from the malaise of the past near decade:

Yet, the tiredness of this exercise as a whole, the extent to which it fails even when it succeeds, suggests that music, too, needs to stop reliving the psychodrama, fear and inward focus of the Cold War. Clinton’s election seemed to mark the end of isolation – the underground burst forth – but it was merely a respite. Punxatawny Phil saw his shadow, electro got eaten up in yet another wave of incompetent rock. Winter is over, and it’s time to figure out what, aesthetically, our generation is all about. Imagine: someone, a group of people, might come up with an entirely new mode of expression; how freaking exciting is that?! Yes, we can.

She also fit the word spandrel in there. Game, set, match.

Lode/Load: November 9, 2008

2008-11-09T14:08:00.003-05:00

Lode/Load: November 7, 2008

2008-11-07T19:25:00.004-05:00

ATTN: People more resourceful than me...

2008-10-30T15:04:00.002-04:00

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.

Lode/Load: October 29, 2008

2008-10-29T10:56:00.003-04:00

Hardcore boys hardcore...

2008-10-27T23:23:00.006-04:00

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.

Lode/Load: October 19, 2008

2008-10-18T17:28:00.004-04:00

Simulacra and the Name

2008-10-14T09:41:00.003-04:00

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.

And what the hell would we be thinking about The Offspring if they really had jacked "Chinese Democracy (You Snooze you Lose)?" We would've at least finally been able to put that name to a record, and maybe it would've been the right one. Finally.

The First Real Victim of This Economic Massacre...

2008-10-13T17:38:00.002-04:00

Stock up on this like it was World War 3, motherfuckers. "Like with Polaroid film," Sophia says.

Goddamn right.

I don't have time to be sad yet, more moral outrage and righteous indignation are still full tilt.

Lode/Load: October 12, 2008

2008-10-12T18:18:00.005-04:00

Silver linings, a futures commodity...

2008-10-09T22:30:00.002-04:00

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.

Time Off?

2008-10-04T19:53:00.003-04:00

I'm still around, I'm just taking the proper time to sit shiva and properly grieve. See above.

Also it's been one hell of a week at work. And at home. Anyways, the New Year's out of the way. Up next? Atonement. That includes you, Sterling Mets.

Lode/Load: September 28, 2008

2008-09-29T00:09:00.004-04:00

Another week, another slew of records. Nothing from the ol' brick-and-mortar, too much rain this weekend.

EP's:

Autistic Youth | I Want to See Every Tower Fall | Rock Bottom | Black

Black SS | S/T | Third Party | Black

Estranged | Sacred Decay | Green Noise | Black

LP's:

Autistic Youth | Landmine Beach | Sabotage/Taken By Surprise | Black

Estranged | Static Thoughts | Dirtnap | Black

Lucky Dragons | Dark Falcon | Marriage | Black

Lucky Dragons | Dream Island Laughing Language | Marriage | Black

Tranzmitors | S/T EP | Deranged | Black

Things I learned tonight about Republican self-identification, as shown through Hollywood imagery...

2008-09-26T23:31:00.005-04:00

This is what the nominee sees in the mirror.

This is not what the nominee sees in the mirror.

So who's his Goose?

Like a mountain rolling downhill...

2008-09-21T22:28:00.002-04:00

This space should be filled with me talking about the first Blank Dogs show, but instead I ended up staying in listening to the recordings and trying to get the train back on the tracks. Regardless, you should listen to them, and find their records. It took me a little while to realize how good they are. Don't make that same mistake. Or the mistake I made of missing the show.

Lode/Load: September 21, 2008

2008-09-21T15:50:00.009-04:00

Primitive music will one day require primitive reactions.

2008-09-21T01:42:00.001-04:00

Side rant: Shows are social events and everyone wants a good story and maybe even a good lay out of one, but what the fuck is up with the total lack of class and respect in so many Ritalin-addled, reject, cool kid crowds lately? I mean, I'm happy to see my friends and catch up, but it's a show. A show that musicians are playing. Musicians that you allegedly like. So why not pay attention? You can hear where the noise wall is erected, the amorphous line where the audience has tuned out and become completely engrossed in themselves. Punk rock shows, whatever, throw people through a wall, for all I care. But at an obviously quiet, intimate performance, shut the fuck up or go outside. Julie Doiron was all but inaudible last night, which is a goddamn shame, because all the kids who were "there for the music" totally should have been into her, especially considering she's part of the Mt. Eerie line-up on "Lost Wisdom." Todd P actually had to get up on stage and tell people to quiet down because Julie was way too polite, and once it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop, she launched into one of the most moving and beautiful songs of the whole night.

It doesn't make sense, because this music isn't that "hip," so why are people showing up just to be seen and heard? It's Williamsburg, there's plenty of other street corners you can stand on with your incandescent retro threads and purposefully poorly groomed hair growth. Don't turn the venue into the ball pit, because there's actual value lost from the bullshit antics. The void incarnate that is nearly every individual painting their pants on and "being" for a living should remain in the quarantine and stop the blight before it gets too serious.

Because it's not cool when these kids are either willfully destructive or retardedly unaware with their actions. Todd P is the backbone of cheap, quality shows, and if he wasn't doing what he's doing (for the love of it, mind you) there wouldn't be any scene. So when he asks people to respect the neighborhood and be mindful of the neighbors, it's infuriating when two All-American Rejects rejects more or less spit in the face of the request and do something stupid, like burn a showpaper. Not only are you destroying a labor of love that keeps your dumb asses informed, you're also destroying any goodwill that was formed. You really have to wait for Todd to come over and tell you that that shit doesn't fly? You, with the atrocious thrift gold leather jacket and the horrendous mustache that screams "I have no personality to speak of and I'd give my right hand to get laid if it didn't fuck me over for good?" Or you, the chubby sidekick unaware that your bushy facial weeds are anything but appealing and that American Apparel makes XL purple hoodies with the intent of selling to the not-small masses like yourself, the perennial not-a-fan music fan who works at a record store because it's easier than dieting and just as mindless?

I'm usually pretty good at tuning out, but sometimes, when I spend a little too much time as a stranger among us, I can't wait to get back to Prospect Heights and wait for the fences to go up around that wasteland. Hope I don't see you at Academy anytime soon, asshole.

"Can we turn the other two down?"

2008-09-20T17:24:00.002-04:00

Got stuck at work talking about everything and watching a mild amount of crunk gettin' got, so I ended up getting to the Mt. Eerie show a little bit late. Thank God I wasn't any later than I was, though, or I would've been shut out of the candlelit, hauntingly appropriate Lutheran Church of the Messiah in Greenpoint. A big space, and a lot of people, and a glowing light of our saviours coming from the stage had me confused as to why so many people were leaving. I missed Woods, which is a bummer, but I've also seen them a million times. The exodus still made no sense to me, but such is life. Eight bucks later, I was in, when I saw some familiar faces including one who's been in Tibet for a year. Ten minutes later, and another twenty-three bucks out of my pocket and into P.W. Elverum's, I was working my way towards the front for the rest of the show.

Julie Doiron came on with shadows being thrown all over and Fred Squire on drums. Now, Eric's Trip I'm no stranger to, but Julie's solo stuff I never had heard, really. And I had definitely never heard her like I did on Mt. Eerie's "Lost Wisdom," where her duets with Phil took the usual Eerie sound somewhere I didn't think it could go. So needless to say, I was excited, and summarily enchanted and dragged around by my heart strings for the next hour.

I've got a soft spot for female singer-songwriters, but I guess I didn't really expect material as good as Julie's. Feist, et al. comparisons don't really do justice, as she's really combing the depths of both the personal and collective American psyche. Mournful melodies housed in her voice have seemingly infinite depth to them, and it comes effortless and hitherto as she moves back and forth from the microphone. Her songs are less compositions and more journal entries; the twang she wrenches from bent chords is voluminous and speaks to a greater emotion than the standard singer-songwriter fare. I understand why she's one of Phil's favorite singers; it's the same reason that Jason Molina as Songs: Ohia is so important. The stripped down guitar and drums versions of things carry a little extra something that isn't there on the full fledged recordings. It's like the skeleton being on display.

And, on top of that, Fred and Julie switched instruments and gave a brief preview of their new band "Calm Down It's Monday." Unsurprisingly, it was great, a strange blend of western rollick with the bared emotive force of their other collaborations. Only a couple live recorded demos, but apparently an album by Christmas? Swoon.

So then it was Mt. Eerie's turn, which basically meant setting up a couple chairs for the on-stage duo and getting Phil to abandon the "souvenir table" as he called it and tell the young fools in the front to sit down so the rest of the seated assembly could see what was about to happen.

I was never a huge fan of the Microphones, but the transformation into Mt. Eerie, along with the establishment of P.W. Elverum & Sun Co., had me hooked pretty much instantaneously. Phil seemed to move into a mythic frontier, where American history is still being composed and reconstituted, sometimes even destroyed. A timelessness emanates from all of his projects. Historicity provides weight. You want to care about these songs, these artifacts, and the quality fulfills that wish.

Mt. Eerie on the new "Lost Wisdom" record, my favorite so far, consists of Phil and Julie and Fred, so it's something of a treat to see the first show of all three together. They played the entirety of the album in a tender and heartwarming fashion. It wasn't perfect, which made it that much more real, that much more identifiable. To err certainly is human, the performers seemed to say, and there was a lot of humanity on display, both on stage and in the crowd and in the ether passing back and forth. Even a well-crafted spell can be brittle and transient despite the power behind it, so the little lyrical slip-ups and false starts made the energy on display that much more genuine.

When Phil kept going after the trio stopped, it was fitting that he wound down the night by playing "Human." The crowd recited the personal incantation with Phil, and I was happy to watch the bootlegger sitting next to me recording the show on a Zune. A record of something like that seems most needed.

The Thin Line Between Symbiosis and Parasitism

2008-09-18T21:29:00.003-04:00

That's the view I have from my browser window every time something new and important gets released. I don't normally big up that which drains me, but in the case of Bistro Distro, you have to appreciate the job Troy does. The music's non-stop, simple as that, by design.

Selling old things new for a killing? Or, tapes are popular now, too, so I guess it's back to CD's...

2008-09-17T13:35:00.003-04:00

The following rumination brought to you by the good people at VLV and also the reason why I didn't buy pretty much any of SFJ's collection.

Increased vinyl production is not the new phenomenon most mainstream media wants it to be, but it's finally worth thinking about for two reasons: 1) It's getting noticed like it's new and 2) It's getting priced like it's new. Not only are major labels throwing their hats back in the ring, but so are major retailers. Is there really such a demand? Observational wisdom says yes; just check out the cost to maintain a collection now, it's incredible. Economic downturn, inflation, and all other reasoning aside, record prices are sharply increasing. Why? Let's discuss.

"Audiophilia." The number one front for the average impressionable new collector. "It just sounds better, man. You can really hear it." I'm not going to argue against the science behind this, but I will argue with the science being the actual impetus for audiophilic purchasing. Digital music is not far off in regards to quality, really. But it's the promise of purity, even if its imperceptible, that gets collectors opening up their wallets. 180 gram multiple LP gatefold mega releases are these hulking mammoths of "quality." Nevermind that most of this is either incomprehensible or irrelevant to the average buyer. If it's top notch, it's a gotta-have, so what's a couple extra bucks for the prestige that such a gem imparts? It's not like you can grab all these re-releases in every dollar bin across America.

Oh wait...well, actually, maybe not. That's not nearly as sharp a dig as it used to be, because while mainstream retailers are taking advantage of huge mark-ups on these deluxe new re-releases, used retailers are scaring up prices on classics due to increased demand. Routine dollar bin records I saw everywhere just a few months ago are now pulling in eight or ten bucks. That may not seem like a lot, especially compared to their deluxe companions' exorbitant tags, but it's still a 1,000% increase. And for what? Dusty classics that were produced by the boatloads thirty or forty years ago? Give me a break. Seriously.

I still don't own a lot of my favorite records because of an imperfect premonition/scientific calculation I make to figure out the best time to buy. I refuse to buy most major label albums (Dylan, Springsteen, Bowie, etc.) because I know that they're everywhere; it's just a matter of getting the deal. The same even goes for indie albums. Songs: Ohia's "Didn't It Rain?" is top five material for me, and I still don't own it, because I know it can easily be gotten, and I need that fifteen dollars, and maybe I'll find for only three. What ends up happening is my collection of obscure /500 records, some of which I don't even like that much, keeps growing, because the eBay mark-up is more terrifying than the initial cost.

I'm getting closer and closer to saying collecting as a trend is turning into collecting as a racket, as it becomes more and more of a quantifiably lucrative and trackable field. Music as art object is also music as commercial object. How ironic that the vinyl uprising, instigated largely by punks for economic reasons (can you believe records used to be a fraction of the cost of CD's?), is undermining its own initial foundation. Seeing common Dischord releases carrying double-digit price tags over covers reading "Never pay more than $8ppd" is a pretty huge bummer.

Prospecting, also known as taking advantage of someone else's incomprehensible choices.

2008-09-16T20:32:00.002-04:00

When a critic puts his collection out to pasture, it's time to get to work. Discernment is key, but I'll let you know how the haul shapes up to be (if there is one; thanks for the scare, financial world).

Short sell? I'd say that's a good term for this.

On individuals who get back up when they haven't even fallen...

2008-09-11T21:25:00.002-04:00

I feel like most people write off Kanye more than...well, let's just leave it at that. According to the man he was getting hated on before he even released "The College Dropout." The underdog mentality: start at the bottom even when you're at the top. It's the American way.

So yeah, album one, classic Kanye production and some green jollity. What's not to like? The new guy at the table, he's alright. Let him on in. So Kanye got his inch, and went beyond taking the mile. I mean, he's past the horizon at this point. He took himself from victim through the wire straight to martyr. Critics say if he ran his mouth on his records like he did to the media, maybe there wouldn't be so much to complain about.

So yeah, album two, and Kanye's mixin' it up. The honeymoon period over, but there's some definite growth in delivery. But the strength comes, again, on the beats. Keep it interesting, and when you have to call in the artillery, do it. Who thought AAA format could be integrated like that? No wonder Michel Gondry loves him.

So what, album three? Dude is starting to leave orbit for I don't know what. But that piano? The live instrumentation? Gone. Who needs that? It's the 21st century, motherfuckers. Get with the synth. Daft Punk, "Flashing Lights," and some real hyperkinetic album art mark this strange beast lumbering towards God knows what. It's got the Mark of Wayne, too; Kanye's coming out on the other side of the weird. It's beyond hip-hop now, it's art. The Artist would agree with this, I'm sure.

So after searching for a Britney meltdown from the 2008 Video MusicAwards and only getting a letdown of normaled proportions, I find a real notable: Kanye came back to MTV (going against his VMA snobbery due to repeated Moon-Man snubbery). This is what I got:

We've officially lost contact. Kanye's "Love Lockdown" premiere has the same kind of identity-shifting grandeur as when Jonathan Rhys-Meyers' folk-turned-glam 70's conglomeration passes beyond conventional rock star into extraterrestrial in "Velvet Goldmine." It's the same root as Prince losing his name, or Ziggy Stardust losing David Bowie. Self-conscious artist syndrome lifted beyond normal realms of consciousness. We're left with the artist as art.

It's a modernist pose, and a damn good one at that. Kanye references everyone from Ray Charles to Bowie to Kanye. The medium is the message. The words don't count, but the sound certainly does. Vocal delivery was "eh" live, but the beat and the look got me to the single. Now I'm hatin' on the fact that I can't keep hatin' for much longer.

Lode/Load: September 6, 2008

2008-09-06T17:30:00.002-04:00

Barely beat out former hurricane Hanna for today's scores. It was worth it though. All from Academy.

EP's:

LP's:

On "Groovy Hate Fuck" and the blueprint for western decline...

2008-09-06T00:46:00.003-04:00

It's funny that Pussy Galore blew up (as in dissolved) and then The Message got out. Black Flag's "Damaged" is obviously the cornerstone for a hardcore of nihilism (PG was wont to cover their fair share of the Rollins era) but Jon Spencer and Julia Cafritz kept that rolling. Then came the inevitable break-up, the establishment of new projects that continued on to great renown (Jon Spencer Blues Explosion and Free Kitten), and the recognition of what was hiding in plain sight all along. I feel like so much nihilistic, dystopian rock music really speaks to the idea of prophecy in the American voice as outlined by Greil Marcus in "The Shape of Things to Come." So many of these musicians are far from outcasts, often integrated into broader culture but also the seedy underbelly. Perhaps it's a more holistic awareness combined with a certain cynicism that leads to this kind of sound; if you could take what you saw and extrapolated it out twenty years down the line, how would you feel?

All this comes from a really great interview of Julia Cafritz, relevant due to Free Kitten's recent resurrection. If you were wondering the new album "Inherit" is worth checking out, especially since it's a major shift stylistically. Cafritz admits that sonically it takes a turn for the worse, especially poignant considering she says "Free Kitten is an opportunity to express more dark as we live lightly." Life and art are imitable, but they're at their best when in discourse with each other.

What caught my eye, though, was the lead quote, which turned out to be the most poignant segment of the entire interview. Some of that old-fashioned prophesying is still at work, both in Free Kitten and Cafritz's life, continuous with a lot of ideas that came out in the days after punk got broken. What's it like to see a future and then watch it dissolve? What takes its place? Cafritz has this to say, and I'm still thinking on it:

New York was going to get taller, there would be sex clubs in buildings that catered to hospital fetishes. And there would be freeze-dried drinks at bars. In reality, because of 9/11, it's a run for comfort. It's the proliferation of cupcake shops. New York has tried to recast itself to look like the rest of America. Instead of rising like a phoenix, it retreated into itself.

The White Noise Ensemble

2008-08-31T02:27:00.004-04:00

Longevity of distinctive sound produces a curious dichotomy in critical opinion. For a darling band, album one is just the start of it, album two separates the real deal from the other sophomores, and albums three through infinity just add to the legend. But it's albums three through infinity where it becomes mirky and contradictory: depending on the ears, it's either progress or stagnation. How exactly does that divide work?

At the root of this is the coverage of two new albums, "Worried Well" by 31 Knots and "You & Me" by The Walkmen. First, the part I'm on board with; nearly everything I've read agrees that these albums, numbers seven and four for each respective band, firmly fit into a signature sound. As Slant Magazine says, this tautological statement remains intact. Readily recognizable and easily fitting into the discography. That's not to say surprises and/or growth can't exist (the worms find the top of the can), but it's safe to say that you get about what you came for.

Now the perplexing; why are the Walkmen getting heaps of love and 31 Knots some serious second-guessing? First listen for both, I was pleased. More specifically, I thought the Walkmen album did the same thing it had done for the previous four albums (which I count as good), and 31 Knots continued to blow my mind. I mean, that band's been golden since the first release. So I wasn't that surprised to see Walkmen praise, but the assault that came at "Worried Well" from more than just a few prominent sources was definitely cause for consternation.

A look back at previous releases and their reception is necessary, and I think I'm starting to get it, as unpopular as it sounds. It's not necessarily each individual release's quality, but the ebb and flow of popular opinion to the general straight line that a consistent band draws through history. There's bumps, sure, and I'd never try to deny that some songs and albums are inevitably better in a distinguished discography, but generally speaking, the Walkmen and 31 Knots have been as strong a unit now as they ever were. So why does "You & Me" get the almost universal green light, while "A Hundred Miles Off" somehow smacks of staleness? With 31 Knots, the randomness and maybe general ignorance is even more pronounced; "Worried Well" gets trashed for overproduction, but the gap between 51-40 or Fight! releases and Polyvinyl releases for the band is all but ignored. Sequencing across albums provides a continuity of idea and sound that shows a sharing of strength and weakness, in different proportions for sure, but nonetheless there.

What I think it all comes down to is that no one wants to say "more of the same, and that's great." There's no such thing as even keel. The boat rocks, and it either crests the wave or it turtles. The onward march of progress demands quantifiable differences. But when no one's certain as to what those gains or losses are, it becomes arbitrary as to the value assigned. It's one confusing divide in the critical voice, and maybe just another reason why the only subjectivity that matters is your own.

"The name of the band is Failures."

2008-08-24T04:29:00.003-04:00

Sean said it best: "They call themselves Failures when any one of their many projects is more than enough to retire on and look back on." Charles Bronson, Orchid, Ampere, Das Oath, Cut the Shit, Cancer Kids...and that's just the short list. Could we go on? Sure, but what's the point? You know the deal. Failures has a pedigree.

So it's not hard to figure out that the music rips. Loud, brash, and much more than just the sum of its parts. What is more intriguing, though, is what the sound means, where the aesthetic comes from, and what it means for the future of hardcore punk. Mark McCoy and Will Killingsworth are salty pillars of the community; the two of them responsible for Youth Attack! and Clean Plate, respectively, more or less the standard-bearers for the bright bleak future. It's a wedding of strict concern for punk ethics but more importantly punk art, and I think it all comes out in the music.

And the performance. The recorded material, complete with all its well-designed trappings, are more than enough, but this ain't no studio project; these motherfuckers mess shit up for real. At the live show, the electricity actually boils over. The noise is actually assaulting; none of that full wall overload nonsense, but razor sharp, brutally nihilistic jabs at your very core. If the buzzsaw riffage doesn't cut you up entirely, Mark can take care of that. He's the consummate frontman, all arms and legs attached to a flailing torso and equipped by an angry but brilliant head. More than anything, though, it's his snarl and grimace that never leave his face that really leaves the impression. It's the face of a generation, and it's all his movement.

All of this came out in the Cake Shop show today, and more. No pictures, because a camera can't survive that. Not when beer bottles are flying, Mark is assaulting the crowd, tearing at lights, and even running over Andrew. Even on stage, it's a kill or be killed game; protect yourself, even if it's from your own frontman. More than failure, it's about survival.

No Bunny? No Problem.

2008-08-22T02:19:00.001-04:00

No Bunny's "Love Visions" is an album you're going to say up front that you don't like and that you don't want to hear. But you're going to listen to it, and then you're going to listen to it again, and...well, it'll be a routine before long. I mean, look at this dude; clearly knows how to party, and that's all I need.

Further evidence of partying. Seriously, what more do you need? Image source says that costumed back-up band support is provided here by the Wax Museums, who sing songs about real problematic teen shit like getting locked in the mall.

Eisenhower is the father of the interstate highway system...

2008-08-21T16:02:00.000-04:00

Heavy rotation; Best Friends Forever sings about touring and love, but they're really talking about any ol' memory.

Would you think it was stupid of me
to suggest that we don't get any sleep?
Even though we're getting up at 6 A.M.
to drive all the way to Michigan?

"This is like a last stand for webcasting."

2008-08-20T13:29:00.001-04:00

Been down this road before, once hopeful, once despairing, and it looks like the third time's the charm, this time towards an elegy. If you haven't seen already, The Washington Post reported that Pandora will most likely be shutting down thanks to the draconian royalties of SoundExchange. It's a pretty dark day for digital music and radio and any internet-hopefuls who were looking forward to Music 2.0. Internet music start-ups can be rounded up by the barrel. They run the gamut from practical but boring to revolutionary and thus illegal. The thing about Pandora, though, is how effective it was: the Music Genome Project actually worked. The jaded masses will agree.

Next up on the industry's sado-masochistic plate? Muxtape. The recording industry's left it's black dot on Muxtape currently; visiting the site returns an image of an suitably unplayed cassette and the last words of "Muxtape will be unavailable for a brief period while we sort out a problem with the RIAA." Great. Whereas Pandora did a lot of the legwork for you, Muxtape put musical exploration directly into the hands of those on the ground. You remember mixtapes, right? No? How about just "mixes" that powered you through long drives and maybe into a few lovers' beds? The chance of discovery of not just new intimacy but new tastes was the mission statement for Muxtape, and it was rather ingenious, rather simple: streaming mixes. Throw a bunch of songs into the easy user interface, click a few buttons (I'm going off of memory here), copy/paste the link, and BAM! New music for the masses. And it's streaming so except for the savvy out there this was all about the discovery and not the ownership. Guess that gig's up, too.

Pandora and Muxtape may not be completely out to pasture yet, and let's hope they don't get forced into the glue factory. I can't help but wonder what the industry might find out about itself if it spent half the time getting a long-overdue facelift instead of going after good ideas that illustrate the potential at the music/internet nexus. Until then, though, PopMatters is right:

The end result is another example of the industry and labels stupidly killing themselves off. But don’t worry, they’ll be sure to scapegoat everyone except themselves. And ultimately it won’t matter because they’ll be shrinking and bleeding more each day. Good sound business policy it ain’t.

Movies about records that will never get old.

2008-08-19T23:56:00.000-04:00

This past year saw a definite 180 in my opinion of Todd Haynes. "I'm Not There" had me seeing red at first; whence comes these transgressions about iconography of icons? But that didn't last long. It starts to make sense when you see the machinery turning in all his features. "Far From Heaven," "I'm Not There," "Velvet Goldmine:" they all take a pastiche of a monumental time or thing, throw it into a blender, and pour out the essence of it all.

It's on mind after seeing "Velvet Goldmine" at McCarren Pool tonight. Part Citizen Kane, part glam, the time gets spent picking apart the different threads in Ewan McGregor's and Jonathan Rhys-Meyers's characters. It's not just the individuals - Bowie, Eno, Iggy Pop - all screwed up with each other, but the different times and places. The mythologies are boiled down, distilled, and poured out over the perfect superficies.

An experiential note: there was probably no better venue than McCarren Pool at dusk to watch "Velvet Goldmine." It's the kind of communal experience that brings out something fresh from sometimes familiar material and venues. The rumor mill has it that the Pool will once again become a pool after this summer, which is a real shame. There aren't many such places as characters like it.

Starting the collection isn't the problem, it's finishing it.

2008-08-19T01:09:00.000-04:00

What I found today at Academy Records:
Add that to what I found at Eat Records the other day:
Granted, that's the easy part. Filling in the blanks of the truly hard finds should provide more than enough sport.

Also, in case you were ever wondering why you should never spend real money on real pop records:
Found on the street on the way back from Park Slope. There were a bunch of others, including Thriller, but it was too scratched for my taste. Always wait for a relative or a relative unknown to liquidate before dropping anything above the dollar mark on something like this.

And why is Sascha Frere-Jones dropping his collection? I'll refrain from libelous conjecture.

I still want a sticker that turns my ride into a national security threat.

2008-08-19T00:09:00.000-04:00

So I mean, really, what's better on a Friday night than a bunch of earnest beard punk? Is that a proper term for this? Planet Plan-It-X, maybe. What is for sure is that a summer evening can certainly bring out the party and the olfactory in an otherwise dull side of town.

It was the first time I had been to The Fort, and it took a second to reacquaint myself to the familiar-but-different trappings of the punk house. Photographs and even descriptors don't really do much justice to the subtle and glaring differences between various abodes, but then again, who's really looking that close if you're on the outside? In any case, this particular spot definitely belonged to the Bloomington school; decor and odor both differed wildly from the noisy artists' residences in Providence and the crusty 80's revivalist basements in Boston to which I'm much more accustomed, despite the abundant eclecticism shared by all.

Half the show takes place on the stoop. There's an element that is always outside to serve as signpost, town crier, and skeptic for newcomers. Sometimes even as guard or look-out. I tend to go to shows alone and the approach can sometimes be a bit harrowing; these are all strangers, and since punk houses to tend to support a small army, they're all strangers that collectively don't know you. I ended up missing most of artists-in-residence opener Stupid Party, but having previewed the material, I was alright with missing the enthusiastic if generic set. The Gainesville-Bloomington axis on which the sound is firmly located isn't too hard to find, and that's why This Bike Is A Pipe Bomb was here.

Brief aside: Even beyond decorative and odorific differences was the anarchical crowd behavior. In Boston, where four-on-the-floor punk and hardcore is having a heyday of massive proportions, etiquette is a little more puritan. This is a given for dress (patches, Boston sports, and second skin denim to boot) but also for dancing. Channel that energy into the circle pit and get the two-step going. Here it was just mayhem: D.I.Y. hair cuts, uniquely mangled wardrobes, and alcoholic containers of every shape and form pogoed, thrashed, and generally bounced without any uniting theory except chaos. Even standing on the wall was no good; delineation between crowd and observer wasn't just protean, it was non-existant.

Northern Liberties followed and I can honestly say I wasn't really expecting what ended up happening. The set-up was typical: basic drum kit, overly stickered bass, and marching band drums to be manned by the dress-clad, Stardusted lead singer.

What followed was an extended space jam complete with snake charm bass riffs and a whole lot of vocal reverb mixed the occasional drum solo freakout. I don't know if anyone else saw it coming, but it didn't take long for the crowd to adapt, the battleground being defined by the grey area where exuberance and violence meet. Also, where the unacquainted and unabashed set the stage for night-long faux pas.

Case in point: leather sandals, heat trap jeans, and a sweater shirt disposed of once bad dancer guy decided this weird shit was too much for him not to be a part of. As if the rest of the kids losing their minds wasn't enough, we've got a human pinball causing much consternation by both excessive ground movement and excessive sweating. At least the ultra-aggro drunk kid knocking back the Yuengling in the white Partisans tee was misantrhopic enough to say fuck the world and stay out of the pit after being excised by consensus.

A compatriot on the wall demonstrates the only way to combat the ultimate trump card, a sweaty and naked back.

Here's a punk Statue of Liberty play. In case you couldn't tell, it's time for This Bike Is A Pipe Bomb. I'm waiting for the new album to come out on vinyl, but early listening shows it's more of the same, and in this case status quo is A-OK.

More anthems, more politics, more folk creeping into those oddly melodic bellows. That's what everyone was here for, and that's what everyone got...mostly. The old standards still set everyone in motion (how can you NOT be moving for Star Song), but there's something lacking nowadays in the live-set. The last time I saw them was at Plan-It-X Fest about three years ago with a radically butchered line-up, and I don't know if the supergroup I saw then was just infallible or they're losing it or maybe The Fort just couldn't provide the support necessary, but the band definitely sounded a little milquetoast. Too much liquid courage or maybe not enough, but I wasn't nearly as stoked as I thought I'd be.

Closing up was Shellshag, but by that point in the night I was exhausted and had to ride on home. My bad, at least I think. Checked 'em out later and ran across the record in Academy today, and I don't think I'm done with them. Apparently a two-piece, it seems they specialize in anthems: piano-driven, sludge-powered, even epic riffage, there's more than a few engines going on this thing. Hit or miss, but the LP on Starcleaner (which is also responsible for the Stupid Party 7") looks like it'll be worth it when I'm not so far in the red.

I mean, how dark can the city actually ever get?

2008-08-18T00:43:00.000-04:00

Apparently arm-chair anthropologists are creeping further into the darker corners of the scene nowadays. Who would've thought the July 25th Aerosols show would've ended up on Ivygate? Juli says she knows her Orientalist theory, but knowing doesn't prevent making the same trespasses Said should prepare you against. That's what he said.

I'll give her one thing, though: the Stolen Sleeves Collective is one hell of a place to unearth, especially if taking the L is still a novelty. It's rare that a "warehouse" is still a warehouse, or in a neighborhood that mingles the ghost of industry with the still-kicking body. There's a nasty emptiness to it; I spend a good fifteen to twenty minutes figuring out the appropriate bike-lock location before I realize that no matter where I park it I'm not going to be satisfied. The whole vibe is rather fitting for the experience and the racket generated by the resident bands, which are routinely at the front of the doom and gloom game. Lapsed recovering alcoholic skronkers Aerosols are probably the best poster children available, though Cult Ritual blew me away at their August 7th show at SS. The new 7" is en route now from Youth Attack!; no surprise on label choice there, seeing as how YA! is dominating this particular punk niche. Mr. McCoy was even present to see what carnage his children hath wrought.

Still, not even McCoy could've orchestrated the broader atmospherics for that evening. Riding down Flushing Ave., buildings moving out of the way with each block, towering clouds put on the most ominous heat lightning display I ever did see. Nature definitely did its best to fit the mood unto the breach. The stale night kept up the light show even after the show. I peeked backwards occasionally on the way back just to make sure it, or something, wasn't gaining on me. Perhaps the black concern about the approaching endgame isn't so far off.

WELCOME ABOARD

2008-07-20T22:16:00.000-04:00

I wanna tell you what's on my mind
And I wanna bill you for wasted time