While standing in the long line to have my bag searched, I found myself next to an enormous man (tall and broad) and his enormous beard (long and broad) and his enormous wife (just broad). He was clearly motorcyclist material, with his bandana and his sunglasses and his leather vest. He was wearing several patches that read “81% Supporter.”� I asked him what he supported 81% of and what was wrong with the other 19%. “Hell’s Angel,”� he said, not in an unfriendly way but not in a friendly way either. More like the way a lion looks at a little zebra when he can’t decide if he’s hungry or not. “Oh,”� I said. “Yeah,”� his wife said helpfully. “It’s an alphabetical thing.”�

Architecture in Helsinki was peppy and weird and I loved them. They had, like, nine members. And I hear tell they’re from Australia which is, of course, great.

Sufjan Stevens (he of the guy-who’s-going-to-make-50-albums-one-about-each-of-the-50-states-but-has-only-made-two-so-far fame) played a set of weep-worthy sweetness. There was a trumpet. And a trombone. And a melodica. And young ladies who played them and sang a cracked, rough, fantastically-innocent-Americana backup. And a giant inflated Uncle Sam doll. They played a sad-ballad version of the Star Spangled Banner. Beforehand, he handed out small cloth American flags for the audience to wave. Mr. Anthony Hecht ducked into a nearby porta-john after the set and saw someone had stuck a flag in the urinal so you couldn’t help peeing on it. He forgot to take a picture. We’re all feeling a little, uh”¦ forgetful. Did I mention there’s a beautiful rainstorm in the distance?

“�There are a lot of beautiful young stomachs here,”� one young-looking guy said to another. “Yes,”� the other, who looked even younger, replied. “I feel like Humbert Humbert.”�

Uh-oh. Thunder. Oh shit. Rain.

No doubt many Line Out readers are en route to, or already frollicking at, Sasquatch, waiting for Sufjan Stevens and company to take the stage this afternoon. Alas, I shan’t be joining y’all at the Gorge (I have to stalk Seth from The OC), but I got to catch up with Sufjan and his crew—who play a spirited game of badminton—at a BBQ yesterday afternoon. Which was where my boyfriend snapped this photo:

We had brought a selection of Moon Pie snack cakes for the buffet, which amused Mr. Stevens. But after posing for us, Sufjan realized he was clutching a banana Moon Pie. “Gross!” he exclaimed. Apparently he prefers chocolate. There was some talk of using PhotoShop to drop in a chocolate one instead, but I am not nearly that tech-savvy, nor is Sufjan a no-brown-M&Ms-in-the-dressing-room kind of artist. That ever-serious expression belies a very sweet, friendly personality.

(Light blogging from me lately, sorry — I’ve been very busy watching that dogs and lasers video over and over and over and over again and can’t find time to do anything else.)

Your assignment tonight is to head down to Lo-Fi at 429 Eastlake and check out Sunshine Jones. Sunshine was half of Dubtribe Sound System, who called it a day last year after three albums and more than a decade of rocking parties up and down the West Coast and across both oceans. (Not to mention being perennial Seattle favorites — ask any ex-raver about the hands-down best parties from back in the day and I’ll give you $10 if they don’t mention Dubtribe.)

But those days are over. Now he’s struck out on his own, with a new DJ/live set that combines custom edits and original tracks with live vocals and effects. Techno folks will appreciate the richer textures, stripped-down production and sideways/forward motion of the music, and househeads get their fair share of dubwise production and San Franciscan good vibes. He blew the roof off Francois K’s Deep Space night in New York a few weeks back, and he’s on his way to do the same in Japan right after this, so you know it’s going to be good.

MSN Video will be at the Gorge this weekend shooting and airing exclusive footage and artists’ sets starting June 1 at this site. Currently, the bands slated to be filmed include Band of Horses, Common Market, Him, Iron & Wine, Nada Surf, and Village Green. Other possibilities yet to be confirmed: Beck, Flaming Lips, Ben Harper, and the Shins.

What are you going to do after a long holiday weekend? Why, coming to my birthday party, of course!

Because I’m such a big fan of birthdays (and I don’t care how self-indulgent it is) I put together a birthday rock show with some of my current favorite local acts—Speaker Speaker, Sean Nelson, the Pharmacy, Juhu Beach, and Spacesuit.

Speaker Speaker won this year’s annual Big Shot competition. They’re that good. Sean Nelson, well, he’s Sean Nelson, frontman for Harvey Danger. He’ll be playing a few tunes solo on the piano, which should be lovely. The Pharmacy are finally bringing their punky dance party back home after months on the road, and I can’t wait to see them again. Juhu Beach is wrapping up the recording of their debut EP (you can catch a sneak peek here) and Spacesuit is a brand new band featuring members of Problems with Heroes and Blue Sky Mile. I can’t wait!

It’s on Tuesday May 30th at the Crocodile. Doors open at 9 pm and it costs $6 at the door. Be sure to save the date, it’ll be super fun times, and a great chance to finally hear some of the bands I never shut up about.

Who knew? I’ve always been kind of whatevs about Coomes’ and Janet Weiss’ band Quasi. I liked Early Recordings, but eventually sold it. Quasi’s other albums usually have their moments, but not enough of them (and they’re not extraordinary enough when they do occur) to keep me riveted. But after reading about some of Coomes’ favorite recordings in Dusted magazine, I have new-found respect for him (which will make his day, I’m sure). Boredoms, Psychic Paramount, Vibracathedral Orchestra, Boris, Lula Cortes e Ze Ramalho? Dude, I had no idea you were such a psych-rock head. We have to party next time you’re in Seattle.

The King Of Ska, Desmond Dekker, passed away yesterday, following a heart attack in his home in the UK.

Dekker brought the world the classic “The Israelites” as well as monster tunes like “007(Shanty Town)” and the Jimmy Cliff-penned “You Can Get It If You Really Want”, from The Harder They Come.

Skank what ya momma gave you in the brother’s memory.

The Japan-based ELP Corporation has created a device that plays vinyl”¦ with a laser. Michael Santo of RealTechNews writes:

[LT-1LRC] promises to play any records you still have without damaging the grooves, as it uses five lasers to play them. Grooves are tracked with lasers for the left and right sides of the groove; two other lasers read the music, and the last laser measures the height of the groove to cope with warped records.

This baby will only set you back $15,000. Oh, and make sure your wax is very clean.

As all you bleary-eyed Gorgers make off to the craggy navel of central Washington for this year’s Sasquatch fest, I’ll be Amtraking it to Portland, Ore., en route to my personal electro-soul savior, Jamie Lidell.

Now, you folks get to see him Sunday around noon or something, right?

I’ll be catching him at Holocene tomorrow night, up close and personal and after dark. Forget the sun. I’ll be soaking up his twilight radiations, enough soul output to well exceed the benefit of all the solar output that will be searing your salty little skins. I’m looking for a scorcher of an all together different kind.

Damn, he’s hot. Sorry, my friends, but you’ll only be getting sloppy seconds.

Annoying thirst, damp-cold, dry-heat, grass up the ass, being mashed into the unwashed armpit of the masses as the bands I want to see and even more bands that I could give a damn about flaunt around on a stage 100s of yards away?

Yeah. No, thanks. One of these days I’ll get out there, but I prefer the simple playbill to the triple-threat throng.

Anyway, I’ll be back from the Portland Lidell show and will report back on what will no doubt be a sacrum-searingly carnal and rhapsodic performance of immaculate conception. His haughty croon and coursing beats make for a rhythmic revival, where sex and divinity aren’t mutually exclusive.

I recently purchased this online from the same folks who sold me this Lenny Bruce t-shirt a couple of years ago. I’d been coveting this design for months and finally broke down last week and forked over the $30. I couldn’t be happier with the shirt, but I’m sort of surprised how many people aren’t recognizing the image. Am I bananas or shouldn’t the average rock fan know who this is?

I picked up the flyer for this last night at the Big Tune Beat Battle. Not sure if this is a good way to unearth some gems or if it’s just another way to buy a copy of the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack, but with it being only $2 the loss is pretty low if it turns out to be the latter.

From the flyer:

Beat Digger Record Convention

June 17th, 4pm-8pm, $2 Admission

321 3rd Ave. S. 98104
Corner of 3rd & Jackson (Mapquest recommended)

To Sell: 253-227-7389
therecordpeddler@gmail.com
$30 Table, $20 Half Table

Wise Guise Productions

Phil Manning, who has been Program Director for the local alternative radio station 107.7 the End since 1997, resigned this afternoon.

Played Tangier in Los Angeles. A demure club. Dhuri’s on the walls. Almost too nice. Now heading to Longbeach.

The last light of day laps at the horizon line. Dark grays are taking over. The road lists and lunges the van into the setting yellows. A massive plunge. There is suspension. There is Curtis Mayfield.

Photo: Marlon Schaeffer

It has happened. The mental numbing. The testosteronic dumbing down. The hours in the van, they change a person. Every time. It’s a devolution. Through the course of a tour, topics of conversation go wrong, grow, and take hold. It shouldn’t be this way. We could be talking about astronomy and myths, or the integration of the mathematical world of physics into mystical visions.

But no, we’ve talked ourselves into marketing voice activated dick pumps instead. For those that feel aroused and need help, they can say, “Anaconda.”� And when finished or feeling un-aroused, “Frightened turtle.”� The voice activated voice has that clearly enunciated, demonstrative, and emotionless tone. You’re in the heat of the moment, and need a boost. You lean slightly away and say sternly to your loins, “Python.”�

I’m sorry. I mean no harm. 3 guys in a van for too long. You can actually put the words “˜Voice activated’ in front of anything and it takes on new dimension. Like voice activated Crunchberries. Or voice activated disco. Or voice activated Senator.

Photo: Dan Tyler

In the back seat I drift into a half sleep and have what I think is a dream. I am in an episode of Fantasy Island. My fantasy is to become a female walrus. I have been a female walrus trapped inside a man’s body. I went to the Walrus exhibit at the zoo and knew that’s where I belonged. Enter Ricardo Montalban. “I am your host, Mr. Roarke, welcome to Fantasy Island.”� Transformationist plastic surgeon, Steve Haworth is there, and becomes the Oprah of all my desires. My arms and legs are gone. 800 lbs of lard are injected into my body.

Photo: Marlon Schaeffer

I have whiskers and flippers. My walrus name is Bessie. I roll listlessly through the waters off the Alaskan coast letting minnows feed me through my open mouth. Ricardo Montalban swims up to me within my fantasy to tell me my time is up. I have become pregnant, and at that moment, I give birth to Tattoo. He is my baby walrus pup. Montalban is dressed as a Roman soldier because he came from someone else’s fantasy. He is talking to me underwater, and I don’t understand a word. I know he wants me to leave, I know my time is up, but forget him. This is home now and the fantasy will never end. Someday I am going to end up in my own exhibit and maybe even have my own handler.

Trent - out.

Head Like a Kite

A death notice for former Built to Spill drummer Andy Capps has been posted to the website of the Idaho Statesman:

James Andrew “Andy” Capps, 37, Boise, died May 18 at his home. An informal memorial service will be held 4 p.m. June 10 at the Connector restaurant, 249 S. 16th, Boise.

No formal obituary has been posted and the autopsy report and toxicology results will not be available for a week or two. It saddens me to see how little press coverage his passing has received (actually, I haven’t seen it covered at all). In addition to BTS’s 1994 album, There’s Nothing Wrong With Love, Capps played in several Boise-based bands, including Splinter, Farm Days (the first band of Built to Spill frontman Doug Martsch), Butterfly Train, and the Falldowns. He was also a writer and military historian who had previously written columns for the zine Streetmag and the Boise Weekly. I’ll be writing more about Andy and his contributions to the Northwest music community in next week’s paper.

Another Movement teaser, and since I fly out tomorrow, likely the last. This time around, it’s some representation by two pillars of techno, Kraftwerk, and DJ Rolando of Underground Resistance. I haven’t caught wind of a full UR party this year, but that’s alright. There are a few UR affiliates out there that I’m looking to check out. As for this video, Kraftwerk did a short 30 second jingle for a German trade show, marking their first output in 13 years. After fleshing out that jingle to a full song, they commissioned various artists to remix it, and this is one of the results.

Take a close look at this picture…

That’s right! That’s OC dreamboat Seth Cohen (umm, I mean Adam Brody) second from the left.

He plays drums in this band, see, and they’re called Big Japan. And judging from the three songs they’ve posted on their myspace account, Brody’s current dreamboat status is probably the only reason anyone (mostly girls) even pretends to find it interesting. (Ouch, I know. But it’s true.) It’s a mellow and folkish indie rock with a bit of campfire harmonica and starry synth sounds… sorta reminds me of later Get Up Kids stuff (which I also loathe, so maybe it’s just me). Anyways, they’re going to be in town this weekend playing the Croc on the 27th (all ages show with Big City Rock, and Landon Pigg), and Sasquatch on the 28th (which is already sold out).

And for the record, as bitter as this post may sound, I do find Brody absolutely adorable… As Seth Cohen, at least, the comic-book-reading, Chuck-Klosterman-loving, Death-Cab-listening über geek. Too bad his band sucks.

The mysterious soundtrack has been out for months.

I’ve been waiting patiently for this obscure collaboration between two of the most bizarre, innovative and envelope-pushing artists out there: Bjørk and Matthew Barney. For fans of Bjørk’s meaning-drenched, highly emotive music, and Barney’s near-unfathomably symbolic (from what I’ve heard) Cremaster Cycle, the time is now to feast on their viscosity, which happens to gel quite nicely.

I’ve been told by a few people that Matthew Barney’s Drawing Restraint 9 is “self-indulgent crap”� and basically “one of the most painfully boring, pointless films”¦”� I’ve received few glowing reports. Even The Stranger’s film review of DR9 read more like a taut warning than anything else.

Well, I went to see it tonight. I don’t usually like to use this word in this kind of context, but I have to say that this film really resonated with me. The soundtrack, the sculpture, the symbolism, the meticulous and methodically drawn-out ceremonial quality of every image and swath of sound: I got all wide-eyed despite myself. Plus, I grew up in Alaska so the arctic/aquatic/whale symbolism was potent, and anyone who has ever smelled ambergris, the strangely sensual whale biproduct that is burned as incense or worn as perfume, knows how devastatingly potent it is.

In the interest of disclosure, I’d never seen any of Barney’s films all the way through, just bits and pieces of them. Nor was I familiar with his sculpture. I think I’ve been turned off by the thought of his work for the most part, waving it off as pretentiously over-produced “high”� art.

But I was shocked by how accessible DR9 actually is. Sure, it’s long, there’s only a few lines of dialogue, and lots of strange shots of Barney’s signature Vaseline-like substance, but the film and its soundtrack reveal very strong themes, including the Japanese concept of “mono no aware”� and humanity’s need for primal transformation.

What the hell is mono no aware? It’s the second time in the last month that I’ve heard this phrase. In the film, the concept of mono no aware is described as a solemn state of “impermanence.”� In the film, the Japanese people are said to realize that they are one with nature, which helps them accept the burden of cycles of life and death.

The film and its soundtrack are supposed to be representative of “the relationship between self-imposed resistance and creativity.”� No traditional culture develops more on this idea than the Japanese, in my opinion. Everything is structured and composed, yet everything is grounded in nature and its uncontrollable creative forces.

The garish climax of Bjørk and Barney’s surreally self-inflicted metamorphosis, the scene in which they take ceremonial knives to one another underwater and under animal flesh-and-pelt kimonos, is heightened by one of my favorite points in the soundtrack: the track titled “Holographic Entrypoint,” an a cappella sung by Shiro Nomura in a traditional Japanese vocal style known as Noh. It’s highly controlled, yet gut-wrenchingly expressive. The voice struggles with each note, holding it so tight that it is no longer held, but trembling there in anguish until the next note follows. This music accompanies the transformative massacre taking place between the two main characters after what seems like an eternity of tension-building “restraint.”� And the fact that Barney and Bjørk are lovers “in the real world”� makes the spectacle all that much more engaging.

This film and its score are a reminder of how it’s necessary to devolve into a primal state in order to counterbalance culture’s acquired anal-retentiveness. It reminds me of something a friend of mine said to me recently:

“But don’t you think you’re over-intellectualizing it? Remember to be in your body.”�

Drawing Restraint 9 plays for just one more night at the University District’s Landmark Varsity Theater.

This video’s a bit ominous and creepy, innit? Dubstep has no chance of becoming popular in America—or probably anywhere. It’s just too good.

Hat tip: Simon Reynolds.

Leeni— the local raven-haired songstress has quietly built up a loyal following through the coffee shop/pub circuit. Shattering the solo-female singer-songwriter archetype by employing a variety of instruments and a dark lyrical slant, everything about her sound screams huge potential. Her delicate brand of weary, melodic indie-pop resonates with a very familiar and formulaic structure (put simply, the influences cited in her bio are very evident in her music). BUT I only say this because at times I sense a desire to go beyond the confines of simple indie-rock. Maybe if she teamed up with a brash, gung-ho producer, or tapped into more diverse influences, she could break some serious ground amongst the electro-nu-folk landscape. But as it stands, her pre-programmed lo-fi beats, creative vocal effects, ukulele plucking and masterful Omnichord work already brilliantly enhance her hauntingly pretty voice. I count myself as a big fan. Even though I desire more, I still can’t help be deeply enraptured by her live performances. Catch her Sunday, 9PM, May 28th at Rendezvous with Erin Stewart, Voxy and Kpop. To really pique your interests, I have to draw comparisons to Susanna and the Magical Orchestra.

Underground-hiphop label Definitive Jux has been a leader aesthetically since its 2000 inception; now it’s being proactive business-wise. The New York-based company co-founded by renowned MC/producer El-P has created its own digital download store, The Pharmacy, essentially Definitive Jux’s version of iTunes. Three other labels are doing similar things, but Jux is the only one that enables consumers to buy “physical product as well as the digital songs (i.e., a song & a sweatshirt or a dvd & hat, etc.),” according to publicist Ben Fasman.

El-P adds:

Now that technology and the needs of music lovers have started to achieve some sense of symbiosis, the path has become pretty clear and we’re going down it. Kids want more now than record labels have traditionally given them, and artists want an outlet to share their creations quicker and in different ways. For us it’s just another way to give back to our fans.

More info after the jump.

Continue reading "Definitive Jux Rocks the 0s & 1s" »

The Sasquatch line-up is impressive and ticket sales have reflected that; Sunday is already sold out and I imagine Friday and Saturday are not far behind. However, I just did a little reading up on their camping payment policy and frankly, it’s bullshit. Campers must pay for all three nights, even if they are only staying for one. As long as they leave by noon, they’ll get a refund for the extra day or days. Huh? First of all, what’s the justification for such a backward policy? Secondly, what the hell are they going to do when there’s a mass exodus at 11:45 a.m. with thousands of hungover concert-goers trying to get their $80 back?

When I looked into it, I received this response from Gorge general manager Bill Parsons:

We do charge for the full weekend stay based on your first night stay and will refund in cash, if you leave before noon. We would prefer to not charge in advance but we need to insure that all patrons pay for each night’s stay. In the past many patrons would claim to stay one night but in fact stay longer and we would have no success in finding them to charge the additional stay. For Sasquatch we anticipate a large camping crowd and would not be able to search the campground for people who are staying over. Many times in the past we would find a vehicle but no one in it. This system has worked and we have found few delays. We have many customers staying all three show nights.

I hope this is the case, but it still sounds like a potential headache. I’m not going, so I’ll be counting on Line Out readers to tell me about your experiences.

Ah, kids: Don’t have ‘em, don’t want ‘em, and with a few precious exceptions, I don’t even like to be around them. However, I have a great deal of sympathy for music-loving parents in search of kid-friendly activities that aren’t irritating hippie-fests or goofy, corporate-sponsored nightmares. The folks at KEXP are recognizing this on Father’s Day by throwing a dance party at Chop Suey from 1-5 pm. It will be hosted by perpetually proud papa John Richards and geared specifically towards children under the age of 10. DJs Riz Rollins, Kevin Cole, and Darek Mazzone will be handling the soundtrack and additional age-appropriate games and activities are planned, along with break-dancing lessons.

It’s a smart idea and will no doubt be a huge success (the $6 tickets are going fast), but what I really admire is the cause: proceeds will benefit Art with Heart, a local non-profit that does excellent work with youth in crisis. Via their publications and programs, they exercise their belief that absorbing and producing art is one of the best ways to help children rebound from trauma, which is pretty friggin’ cool. Read more about their programs here.

Homeroom is tonight at the Richard Hugo House, featuring Der Trasch, White Gold, Paris Spleen, and Wallpaper. The show is All-Ages, costs $6, and starts at 8pm. The Hugo House is a cool place (check out the ZAPP zine library in the basement if you get a chance), and they’re that much cooler for getting involved with all-ages music, even if it’s only a ploy to push their nefarious literacy agenda on unsuspecting young people.

Der Trasch is the only of these four bands I think I’ve seen live, but they alone are easily worth six bucks. For the price of a couple of your fancy lattes, these over sexed exiles from the future will pummel you with video game bleeps, disco beats, thrashing guitar, and bilingual barking. It’s even more fun than it sounds.

Judging from their recordings, you can expect various shades of dance-floor friendly post-punk from the rest of the bands. I’m particularly eager to see Tacoma’s Paris Spleen, who seem to be showing up fashionably late to The Rapture’s dance party. Let’s hope there’s still some beer left in that keg…

Frank Cordoza (aka DJ Paco) is the brains behind Homeroom, and he keeps the kids dancing every month for Club Pop at Chop Suey. Tomorrow night he’ll be joined by resident DJ Colby B, NRDLNGR, The New Grey Area, and (ahem) myself. Club Pop is 18+, costs $6, and starts at 9pm.

Dave’s post about music to listen to while writing made me think of Mogwai (Rock Action is the best record to write to, if you ask me), which also reminded me that Mowai was in town last night! They played the Showbox with Earth. Was I there? No. Why? I forgot. After seeing Dr. Frank at Cupcake Royale, I thought my night was complete. Sigh. Did anyone go? How was it?

In the best news we’ve heard in ages, shapeshifting San Francisco electronic duo Matmos will be playing the Triple Door October 21. Their new album, The Rose Has Teeth in the Mouth of the Beast, is one of their best and most involving (see Nick Scholl’s fine piece on it here).

Back in 1998 or ‘99, I shared a bill with Matmos, spinning records before and after their set at Cleveland’s now-defunct Speak In Tongues club. Following Matmos’ devastating performance, I put on Jon Hassell’s “Dream Theory”� off his amazing Dream Theory in Malaya LP. M.C. Schmidt of Matmos rushed the DJ area and gushed to me, “That’s my favorite album of all time.”� It may not seem like much, but this encounter was the highlight of my non-illustrious DJ career and validated my feeble efforts behind the turntables.

So, anyway. Let’s get excited about this Matmos show. You have four months to save money and build anticipation.

Dr. Frank, AKA Frank Portman, AKA the singer of Berkley pop-punk trio the Mr. T Experience looked a little nervous as he stood in the front corner of Ballard’s Cupcake Royale. “I’m kinda new at this whole appearance thing,”� he said as his feet turned slightly inward. But the crowd of 30-40 people who eagerly squeezed inside the small cupcake/coffee shop didn’t mind. They were clearly ready to take whatever it was he wanted to offer them.

First, he read a short excerpt from his new book, King Dork. It was a funny part where the main character, Tom Henderson, rants about the overrated Catcher in the Rye, and claims that all his teachers are so ridiculously obsessed with fictional boy Holden Caulfield that, if they could, they would have sex with him as well as their copy of the novel.

Afterwards, Dr. Frank broke out the acoustic guitar and played a few songs. Some were new tunes written in the character of Tom Henderson, while others were crowd requests, including MTX’s “I Don’t Need You Now”� and the Go-Nuts’ “You’re My Hostess Cupcake”� (perfect for singing in a cupcake shop). He read some more, and after almost and hour, he closed the evening with a performance of a new song written to address his unhappiness with his cell phone company, “Cingular Wireless: Worse Than Hitler.”� “I sang it to the cell phone operator over the receiver,”� he said with a laugh, “but she hang up on me during the bridge.”�

I haven’t read the book yet, but from the excerpts he shared, King Dork sounds like it is a smart, sarcastic, and funny young-adult read. And that’s not too surprising, MTX lyrics are sorta the same way. In fact, Neal Pollack said this about it: “King Dork is a funny, pointed poke in the eye to the bloated Catcher in the Rye cult, and also a fine alienated teen novel in its own right.”�

The event was put together by Secret Garden Bookstore in Ballard, and King Dork is available there if you missed Tuesday’s show and tell.

I’ve got a problem, and I’m turning to you, citizens of the Slog, to help me solve it: I need more music to write to.

By “music to write to,” I mean instrumental (or primarily instrumental) music that creates a reasonably smooth aural backdrop without dying of stasis or general gauzy sentiment (i.e. no Windham Hill or anything Enya-flavored.) By “smooth,” I don’t mean soft—two of my long-standing writing-music faves are those noisy pillars of ’90s audio art, My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless and DJ Shadow’s Endtroducing…. (However, Shadow’s The Private Press is too jumpy and MVB’s Isn’t Anything too wordy to work properly for writing.)

After playing Loveless and Endtroducing.. into the ground (where I still love each of them mightily), I started venturing off into the world of jazz, eventually finding a handful of records that I’ve since played as relentlessly as the My Bloody Valentine and DJ Shadow: Miles Davis’ In a Silent Way and Jack Johnson (only the second half’s good for writing), Duke Ellington & John Coltrane, about six different Thelonious Monk records (including but not limited to Criss Cross, Monk’s Dream, Underground, and that newly discovered live-with-Coltrane-at-Carnegie-Hall disc). But for every one jazz record that fits my writing-music criteria, I find eight that don’t (but that I still love in my non-writing life): Ornette Coleman is too demanding, and all the early stuff—Charlie Parker and Louis Armstrong and young Duke Ellington—is too diverting.

Most recently, I found the wonderful world of Steve Reich, via Music for 18 Musicians and a career-spanning mix made for me by Stranger tech lord/acclaimed techno DJ Brian G. This shit is perfect for writing, and it’s what got me thinking about all the rest of the great music-for-writing out there I’ve never heard of.

So help me out. Boss me around. Clearly, techno is the great unexplored world, but it’s iffy as far as writing goes. The scant bit of techno I’ve paid attention to has either been too spazzy and frantic (Spring Heel Jack), or too entrancing and cinematic (Charles Mudede’s beloved Burial) to allow me to focus on work.

Those who have ideas of stuff for me to check out, let me know below.

This week the Vera Project hit the halfway mark in their capital campaign to raise a million and a half dollars for their new venue in the Seattle Center. Vera hopes to move into the space, formerly the Snoqualmie Room, this fall.

While it’s exciting that they’ve already raised 50% of the cash, there’s still a ways to go, and plenty of opportunities to donate in the near future. On June 13th, Vera is throwing a party at Vain in Belltown that will feature circus performers, the Rat City Rollergirls, DJs, and live art. And later in June, there’s also the much-loved annual A Drink for the Kids, a week-long fundraiser that includes bars all over the city (visit ADFTK’s website for a schedule and more information). Vera will also have a booth set up at Sasquatch, so if you’re heading to the Gorge this weekend, stop by to learn more about the new space and maybe even drop ‘em a few bucks. And as always, you can still make donations by visiting www.vivavera.org.

Another video teaser for Movement. Derrick May just played Seattle last year (his appearance at Rebar was incredible), so I’m looking forward to seeing him play this year’s festival. He’s known as one of the fathers of techno, with “Strings of Life” regarded as his masterpiece. In this video clip, he discusses the happy accident of the track’s creation.

I’ve always been curious to check out the Big Tune Beat Battle, and tonight’s my chance. I’m hoping someone else can fill in the details on how this whole thing works (Larry?), but here’s what I know: Vitamin D hosts the battles, which pits NW producers in head to head battles. I imagine it’s less of a geek-fest than the laptop battles, and more based in who best gets heads nodding. Tonight’s installment will also feature an appearance by Chali2na of Jurassic 5, who’s also doing some sort of informational about the Red Bull Music Academy at Twist earlier in the evening.

So who’s been to this beat battle before? What’s it like?

In continuing with my obvious agenda to promote the underground soundz of Eugene, OR, I’d like to ruminate for a minute on Artificial Intelligence Radio, heard on 88.1 FM, the UO’s campus radio station. Why should you care about an Oregon radio station? Well… they have an online presence, which relieves some of my guilt over my incessant Eugene ramblings, at www.kwvaradio.com. Here you can listen to DJ Matt Howe stream AI Radio live every Wednesday from 8-10 PM. As I’m all “˜bout pumpin Seattle, at the same time, our region also contributes to our reputation, and it makes me feel kind of proud to know that big things are going on all around the area. In line with the aesthetic of the show, he runs a pretty minimalist blog as well, with informative links and weekly playlists. He recently turned me on to KFW’s Mimaroglu Music Sales - an amazing resource for obscure and collectible experimental and electronic music. I implore you, if you’re in front a computer on a Wednesday night, give AI Radio a shot…

Oh yes they did.

Def Leppard have released an album of covers. Including a version of Roxy Muxic’s Steet Life, as well as covers of Blondie and Bowie.

Have you no shame Def Leppard?

Apparently not.

Also, because I was obviously at Neumo’s last night (read review below), I didn’t get to see the Smoking Popes at the Croc. Did anyone go? Please tell me all about it. I want to live vicariously through you. Did they play “Megan”? Did they play “Pure Imagination”?? “Pretty Pathetic”??? Were they totally and utterly and completely a-maz-ing!? Please tell me. I’m dying to hear how it was.

Last night eight bands invaded Neumo’s, all hoping to be declared the big winner in the first annual Pagliacci Battle of the Bands. The all-ages show was also a benefit for the Vera Project.

Matt Vaughn (owner of Easy Street Records), Garrett Lunceford (of the Divorce), and myself were judges for the night, and we scored each band on a scale of 0-10 in areas like song arrangement, creativity and originality, and audience satisfaction. Sure, an eight band line-up is pretty brutal, but thankfully there was a lot of variety—everything from singer/songwriter acts to a bluegrass band to raucous punk rock. The only requirement was that the band had to feature at least one Pagliacci employee.

The line-up (from first to last) was: Chris Rifle, Anaphase, Joy Wants Eternity, Bugdozer, Jangle Bones, Road to Ruin, Rebecca Johnston, and Iceage Cobra.

Joy Wants Eternity was an impressive instrumental act. They don’t hide the fact that they’re heavily influenced by My Bloody Valentine, and their songs are really dynamic and full of rich, atmospheric sounds. Iceage Cobra was a highlight too. Their set was a little sloppy, but their punked-up classic rock boasted a lot of cock-rock bravado, which was fun to watch. Halfway through the set, one of the members of the Emergency hopped onstage to help out with vocals, and I can’t be sure, but I think the singer kicked himself in the head at one point. While playing guitar. Holy flexible, Batman.

In the end, it was local punks Road to Ruin who took home the bragging rights and trophy. When they got on stage to accept their prize, instead of giving a speech, they decided to end the night with an a capella version of Poison’s “Every Rose Has Its Thorn.” Niiice.

The big winner of the night, though, was the Vera Project. Pagliacci donated $5,000 to the all-ages organization.

I have a sinking feeling that the best thing about this project is going to be the pun in the group name”¦ More info here.
Complete press release after the jump.

Continue reading "Radiodread Gives 'OK Computer' Reggae Treatment" »

Wondering what Finland’s Eurovision Song Contest winners sound and look like? Here’s a not-as-blurry video of Lordi for their song Blood Red Sandman. Obviously a Gwar rip off, but KISS-ishly fun none the less! I could use a bit more fake blood, though….

Perhaps you’re an unreasonable fan of The Fall like me, and you’ve heard about the inevitable turmoil flaring up during the band’s current tour of the States. The troublemaker Mark E. Smith himself does an interview with Santa Monica’s KCRW. Listen to Smith skirt the issue (Apparently, before he played with this tour’s original backing band, people had never left the venue during a Fall set.), talk about his Auntie, and temporarily interview the interviewer about Salt Lake City. Said interviewer is obviously compromised by his awe of Smith, but you can get a hint at why no one stays in the man’s band long: “That’s a lot of why I go through a lot of members, “˜cause they always want to do, you know, the famous songs or the songs off the last LP.”� Download it here.

Also, go to the Funhouse for the Country Teasers show tonight, and you can also watch me get drunk!

Here’s the video for “Televised Green Smoke,” a track created by Detroit techno prodigy Carl Craig. Craig is one of the people I’m most excited to see this weekend at Movement, Detroit’s Electronic Music Festival. Had I thought of this sooner, I would have annoyed all of you Lineout readers for weeks with videos, pictures, and other multimedia goodness (not unlike the much-maligned Belle and Sebastian Fact of the Day), but oh well, I’ve only got three days. To say I’m excited about this festival is an understatement.

Anyway, here’s the video. And if you haven’t heard Carl Craig’s Fabric Mix, make your way to a music store and pick that up. I’ve had it in rotation for months now. It has yet to get old.

Tonight at Cupcake Royale in Ballard, Dr. Frank (frontman of the long-running Bay Area pop-punk band Mr. T Experience) is going to be playing some songs on his geetar as well as reading from and signing his new novel King Dork. It starts at 7 pm.

I literally forgot to go. Woops!

Any reviews of the show for me?

The Dolly Parton albums reviewed today represent the best and worst of what Dolly Parton put out for RCA in the early Eighties.

First, the best. 1982’s Burlap & Satin

Beautiful cover, isn’t it? I wish i could show you the back, on which Dolly is reclined on a satin couch wearing a the same satin and lace top, with a burlap skirt slit up one side to show some leg!

For Burlap & Satin Dolly wrote a majority of the songs. Included are beautiful country ballads, a song about her past (what would a great Dolly album be without a song about her poor upbringing?), an upbeat gospel track, a duet with Willie Nelson and a bonifide country/disco hit (her third at number 14 on the club charts!) Potential New Boyfriend!

My personal favorite is the slow and thoughtful Appalachian Memories. Definately search out this track as it begins and ends with a beuatiful flute solo reminiscent of classical composer Aaron Copeland.

Burlap & Satin went to number 5 on the country charts, and number 127 on the pop charts.
This album desrves an 8 out of 10 for pure country pop perfection!

Next up is the nadir in Dolly’s early eighties output, The Great Pretender.

It doesn’t get any more fake than this! An album of overly-produced pop music covers! It’s hard to even find tracks on this album I like enough to give you as samples! Here’s one that comes close, Dolly’s cover of Save The Last Dance For Me, featuring Elvis Presley’s back up singers, The Jordinaires.

As you can tell, along with everyone else in the world circa 1984 , Dolly discovered what would end up being the weapon that would kill eighties pop music.

The Fairlight Synthesizer and Drum Machine.

In my humble opinion, the only band to ever use this soul-killing machine properly was A-Ha. Anyone else had the life sucked out of their music. Dolly included.

But she didn’t stop there, she decided to include on The Great Pretender a “rock” version of Johnny Cash’s standard, Walk The Line.

One word. GROSS!.

This would be the start of a downward spiral in her album production, popularity and sales that didn’t end until she joined CBS Records five years later on White Limozeen.

This allbum, as stinky as it was, inexplicably was popular at the time, reaching 7 on the country charts and 73 on the pop charts. I give it 2 out of 10. A definite low point.

I abstain from voting for the Worst Song Ever, because I love even terrible songs in their own way. (If only I could have the same tolerance for people…)

However, the thought did revive my fear that Einar Benediktsson from the Sugarcubes and Fred Schneider from the B-52s might someday form a supergroup of yelping interruptors.

The horror.

Who do you think really ought not to work together?

Rifat Ozbek once quoted UK nightlife legend Leigh Bowery’s take on fashion thusly: “If you’re going to slit it high, slit it higher! If it’s short, make it really short! If it’s long, put a train on it!”

Clearly, judging from the photos, Leigh’s message was not lost on costume designers for the 2006 Eurovision Song Contest. For straight up garish, with incisive commentary, check out yesterday’s post at Go Fug Yourself (I bet Croatia is a helluva party girl after a couple Jell-O shots, yes?) while there is a (slightly) more tasteful recap up at The Guardian.

Witness a German dude give a 10-minute demo of the next new sensation: video mashups.

Hannah already plugged tonight’s Sunset Tavern show by Columbus, OH quintet the Tough & Lovely in this week’s Up & Coming listings. And former Stranger music editor Jennifer Maerz extolled their virtues in a swell feature-length preview of their previous Seattle gig. But that particular weeknight show was woefully short on warm bodies, so let me reiterate the enthusiastic sentiments of my esteemed peers: This band kicks ass. If you are the sort of individual who peed themselves upon hearing that former Shangri-Las singer Mary Weiss is collaborating with the Reigning Sound, this garage-rock-cum-girl-group act is the band for you. I don’t care if you have to ride a camel, or walk all the way from the Hill, just get your skinny ass out to Ballard tonight. You won’t regret it. The T&L’s 2004 full-length Born of the Stars is still in heavy rotation on my iPod, and if you want to hear why, go listen to some clips here.

Unlike Josh Feit, I’m no KISS fan, but I’ve always had a certain degree of admiration for their marketing prowess. I thought it was pretty bad-ass that Dimebag Darrell was buried in a “KISS Kasket.” But a KISS coffeehouse? I’m sorry, that’s not very rock and roll. What’s next, a gourmet cupcake store? Oh wait, they’ve already got “the most outrageous” desserts covered. Read on:

Myrtle Beach, SC - May 23, 2006 - If you want rock and roll all night, KISS Coffeehouse will be the place to be. On Tuesday, June 27th, legendary KISS band members Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons will be on hand at Myrtle Beach South Carolina’s Broadway at the Beach to cut the ribbon on the most outrageous coffee and dessert shop ever constructed.

Through a deal brokered by Signatures Network, Inc., KISS’s exclusive merchandising company, the KISS Coffeehouse in Myrtle Beach, SC is the first licensed coffeehouse by the band known for their incredible stage show, face paint and full throttle rock and roll.

“The idea was to take the energy and excitement of the live KISS show and bring it into a retail setting,”� explains long- time KISS fan and storeowner Brian Galvin. “KISS fans will not be disappointed!”� pledged Galvin, who knows firsthand the high expectations loyal KISS fans will have for this concept. The coffeehouse will also serve as an official KISS Army recruiting office, exposing new fans and reminding die-hard supporters why KISS continues to be one of the most exciting bands in history.

With over twenty foot tall smoking KISS boots flanking the storefront and rare KISS memorabilia and costume pieces on display, the KISS Coffeehouse raises the bar for retail design. “This will become a major tourist attraction,”� states Galvin confidently. “This is truly the most exciting coffee shop on the planet!”�

The KISS Coffeehouse menu will feature Signature KISS Coffee, including Demon Dark Roast and French KISS Vanilla, eight flavors of the KISS Frozen Rockuccinoâ„¢, the most caffeinated and refreshing coffee beverage on the market, as well as full array of cookies, brownies and cupcakes. According to Paul Stanley, “The KISS Coffeehouse is our way of providing everyone with the buzz of great, quality treats and coffee filled with enough sugar and caffeine to get the party started, and keep it going!”

Gene Simmons adds, “Every army needs food and drink and the KISS Army is no exception! Even the non-enlisted will find our treats and java rockin’ good!”�

To add to the Grand Opening festivities, KISS tribute band, KISS Army, will be performing on the Celebrity Square Stage at Broadway at the Beach from 8:00- 10:00 p.m., when a KISS- style fireworks display will light up the sky in front of the shop. Myrtle Beach’s classic rock station, Wave 104.1, will promote the event and
will be on site broadcasting live.

In conjunction with the opening, 1,000 bags of the KISS Army Blend will be shipped to the US Armed Forces serving in Iraq. “Anything we can do that lets our brave armed forces personnel know that they are always in our hearts and on our minds is a small token of our deep appreciation for the sacrifices they make every day for us.
We pray for their safe return,”� said Stanley.

This is kind of old, but it’s perfect.

Enjoy!

Yesterday, old-school country musician Billy Walker died in a car crash at age 77. He was on tour in celebration of his 46 years with the Grand Ole Opry. You may remember him for his excellent tune “Cross the Brazos at Waco”� from 1964. Or you may not. He wasn’t really a very famous country singer, outside of the Opry, and he didn’t have very many hits. But “Cross the Brazos at Waco”�— that’s a fucking good song. Here’s a synopsis:

There’s a bandit named El Bandito, and his woman, Carmela, doesn’t like his way of life. She begs him to stop robbing, and he promises her that he will, but he doesn’t stop. Although she loves him very much, she knows that she must leave him—he’s despondent over her decision. On the run from the law, El Bandito is far from town when one day he gets word that Carmela’s in San Antonio. He decides that he will finally give up the bandito lifestyle and “walk straight in old San Antone”� so he can be with her again. He sends one of his bandito bros to tell her to meet him near Waco on the banks of the Brazos River that night (Waco and San Antonio are 180 miles apart; this faraway meeting point must be due to his being on the lam). He rides hard all night and finally crosses the Brazos at Waco, and there she is on the other side, waiting for him. He immediately drops “the guns that she hated”� into the river and goes toward her. But, suddenly, shots ring out, and El Bandito drops to the ground. He’s been shot by a Texas ranger. Carmela runs over and kneels down next to him. She can tell he’s going to die, so she gives him one last kiss.

I’ve always seen it as a tragic love story, but my boyfriend brought up the idea that perhaps Carmela had betrayed El Bandito by tipping off the rangers as to his whereabouts and allowing them to use her as a lure. But he obviously wasn’t listening to the song close enough, or he would’ve heard this line, which clearly shows she had planned a long, happy life with El Bandito: “Carmela knew he was dying, and all of her dreams were in vain.”� It’s a great song.

Madonna baits religious folks—again—and they rise to the bait—as always—ensuring tons of publicity for Madonna’s new tour.

The Church of England has criticised Madonna’s appearance on a cross to kick off her latest tour in Los Angeles. “Why would someone with so much talent seem to feel the need to promote herself by offending so many people?” said the church in a statement.

Uh, gee, because it works? And it only works because Madonna can rely on outraged statements from relgious groups.

Due to some serious storage issues, I’m currently in the process of dumping many of my CDs onto my iPod. I already have a hefty vinyl collection that I not only refuse to part with, but continue to add to, so it’s the CDs that are being sacrificed to this more practical format.

One reason I love my vinyl so much is that much of it was either handed down to me from my parents or one of the extremely cool babysitters of my youth. Yes, my first record (Ennio Morricone’s Fistful of Dollars soundtrack) skips so much that it’s almost unlistenable, but I find it comforting that each little crackle and pop was acquired over years of repeated listenings. And yes, there are certain things that sound markedly better in that format, but I also prefer viewing the artwork on the scale that the artist originally intended. In sifting through CDs and records this weekend, I started thinking about the album covers that seriously entranced me during my younger years.

First off, there’s this one from the Rolling Stones. I stared at this so much when I was a little girl that my parents are lucky I never tried to mount a layer cake and a bike tire on our turntable:

Then there’s the banned Appetite For Destruction cover, which was often the subject of debate in my high school auto shop class. Did the robot rape that poor girl or did he show up and scare away the freaky monster in the sky? Or is the freaky monster in the sky descending in order to unleash vengeance upon the robot for raping the girl? Engagement in debates of that nature is why I find it remarkable I even graduated from high school. Incidentally, artist Robert Williams claims the Guns n’ Roses camp never paid him for use of this painting:

I’ll never forget the first time I came across this Dead Kennedys album at Budget Tapes ‘n’ Records in Tacoma. I didn’t even know who the DKs were and hadn’t a clue about their politics, so I was equally curious and horrified by this image:

Lastly, there’s this gem from a beloved Australian songstress that made me certain that I was going to grow up to be a lesbian because all I wanted to do was go swimming with her:

Please tell me about your favorites, or just peruse the banned covers on this website.

I nominate Stevie Wonder and Paul McCartney’s “Ebony & Ivory.”� Here’s why:

* Its melody is unbearably mawkish, saccharine, and stilted. And it gets stuck in your head against your will—as it is in mine right now! Argh!
* Its lyrics are inexcusably inane. (“Ebony and ivory live together in perfect harmony/Side by side on my piano keyboard, oh lord why don’t we?”�) From 5 year olds, these trite words might be excusable. From esteemed composers in their 30s and 40s, they are grounds for severing of their index fingers.
* Its lyrics yearn for universal harmony among humans, yet they (and the music, too) inspire homicidal feelings in this listener (and many more, I’d wager).
* It besmirches the reputations of songwriters who created hundreds of timeless tunes between them. How could such masters of the form descend so low? It defies logic.
* It is so irredeemably sappy, it makes “Yesterday”� sound like Dylan’s “It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding).”�

Okay, your turn. What songs make you so angry when you hear them you want to make a bonfire out of the instruments used and then toss their creators into the flames? Vent those spleens.

You will find at the top, far right corner of this website for a crew of progressive headz in South London, Blacktronica, a loop that represents fully the condition of being phat. Not one, not two, but three—the third loop’s density of rotating materials breaks it out of the prison of time, and it becomes the infinite. You can listen to the loop over and over and over.

Though there has not been an official statement released, friends of former Built to Spill drummer Andy Capps, who played drums on BTS’s 1994 album, There’s Nothing Wrong With Love, are reporting that the musician passed away Friday of unknown causes. Although there is much speculation on the message boards of the Neurolux’s website (Boise’s landmark music venue) that it was either suicide or an overdose, police have not yet released any specific details. There is also a discussion thread on the BTS boards that can be seen here.

In addition to BTS, Capps played in several Boise-based bands, including Splinter, Farm Days (the first band of Built to Spill frontman Doug Martsch), Butterfly Train, and the Falldowns. He was also a writer and military historian who had previously written columns for the zine Streetmag and the Boise Weekly. I will post more details as they become available.

It seems that the hook to “Hung Up” isn’t the only thing Madonna has now appropriated from ABBA. According to the pix at this LJ community post, she’s also, um, repurposed one of their classic costume designs. I hope Owe Sandström is getting a royalty or usage fee of some sort.

“People come to me and say, but really Owe—they looked terrible in those costumes, but you must go back to 1972, 1973, 1974, 1975, it was the fashion…” (ABBA: Thank You For The Music box set notes)

Introducing the new Kane Hodder!

(L-R: Jerome Sauer, Charley Potter, Andrew Moore, Aaron Yost, Eric Christianson; Photo: Ryan Schierling.)

Even though bassist Nick Cates and guitarist Jeremy White left the band earlier this month, the remaining members of Kane Hodder have decided to keep keepin’ on. They’ve temporarily replaced their former bandmates with Jerome Sauer and Aaron Yost of Claymore. The new line-up just recently started practicing together, and they’ll debut their new look on June 28th at Hell’s Kitchen before taking off for a few shows in Japan in July.

Visit www.hodderrock.com for more information, updates, and to share your mutual love for ice cream.

Happy Smoking Popes Day!

Tonight the Smoking Popes headline an all-ages show at the Crocodile. Read all about how much I love them in this week’s Underage column, and then go here to hear a few of their songs (including one of my favorites, “Need You Around”).

The truly sad thing, though, as much as I love love LOVE them… I can’t go to the show. Realizing that almost made me cry a little bit. So in my absence, I’m relying on any of you who are going (lucky bastards) to give me a full report tomorrow morning. I want details, people, so take good notes.

Driving. Heading toward carne. Hwy 15. Pechanga. Emissions coat the asphalt esophagus. It’s 105 degrees, up to 107. Sun is through a magnifying glass. Combustion blurs. The music of LCD Soundsystem and Trans AM shoot the barrel of the desert plain. I’ve heard if you die of thirst in the desert, you rip off your clothes in a panic and dig for water. Must be a long dig. I do 90 and think about buzzards.

Cut to Wine on the Desert by Max Brand - the story of a a runaway killer crossing the desert who can’t turn back because he’ll be gunned down. Hours into his escape, he finds out there’s only wine in his canteen. 2 days later, he’s digging for water.

We found a spot and set up our gear next to a microwave full of bullet holes in the shrub flats.

Barstow has a COPS feel to it. All the guys look like the bass player from Limp Bizkit. You know they will throw down, and need no excuse to throw down. The gas station we fill up in has Tina Turner’s “˜What’s Love Got to do with It” playing and I feel safer. “Who needs a heart when a heart can be broken?” I inhale heat and Freon, and hit the Long John Silver’s for the shrimp fritters. That fresh desert fish.

Barstow Hotel. Recorded sprinklers. Dave woke up early and went to the hotel pool to swim laps. There was a girl there with a pit bull. The dog was going nuts, barking and snapping and following Dave up and down the side of the pool while he was trying to swim. The girl said, “Oh, he just wants to play with you. He likes the splashes.” One lap turn, Dave accidentally touched the pit bull’s nose. Mistake. The dog erupted and had to be restrained. Rabies and saliva poured forth. Dave was very frightened and turned into Mark Spitz for the Bat Boat getaway.

Photos: Dan Tyler

The Las Vegas Beauty Bar was jumping. A Tuesday even. I tasted my shrimp fritters all night. Full on dance party. A guy in a Chicago Blackhawks T-Shirt was making us drink Goldschlager. Gargantuan laser tarantula beats on the 909 and low end looping for the people of the desert. The booker, Brandy, does not take shit from Britney Spearslike chics who have punk, meat head boyfriends.

We went to some casinos to record sounds with the M-Audio. People were hooked up to the slots like they’re i.v’s. Smoke crusted gambler zombies drinking white russians and needing to play.

Bet everything you own on red and run.

Trent - out.

Head Like a Kite

Playing last night at Capitol Hill cool spot Des Amis, Mister Leisure (AKA Stranger freelancer/Line Out contributor Matt Corwine) laid down over an hour of incredibly funky and club-friendly tech-house”¦ to about 37 people. Corwine’s dance music—which sounds as if arduous R&D has gone into it—strikes the ideal balance between the captivatingly weird and the supremely functional.

I know this may smack of cronyism, but I am utterly sincere: Mister Leisure should be playing before 3,000 people at major festivals, not in front of three dozen onlookers in a Seattle basement. Seriously, this brainy, bootylicious music would slay crowds at the Detroit Electronic Music Festival, Sonar, or Decibel.

Occasional Stranger contributor Keith Bacon was lucky enough to attend Madonna’s private, invite-only preview show in Los Angeles last night. If you don’t mind a few spoilers, read the complete review in his Live Journal. I wasn’t there, so the only comment I can add is that I think calling the interpolation of “I Feel Love” into the Confessions cut “Future Lovers” a “mash-up” is a bit generous, since “Future Lovers” (a Mirwais production) blatantly apes Giorgio Moroder’s influential arrangement from the 1977 Donna Summer hit. But hey, if this sort of gimmick is good enough for Kylie (see this clip for “Can’t Get Blue Monday Out Of My Head”), why shouldn’t Madonna pay homage to her influences in a similar fashion?

In a surprise upset, last night the Eurovision Song Contest 2006 crown was awarded to… Finland! This is a big deal, not so much because it is the first time Finland has won the ESC, but more importantly, they did so with a hard rock song: “Hard Rock Hallelujah” by Lordi. (You can sample or download the track for free here—along with entries and near-misses from many other countries—but if you pluck more than one or two mp3s be a good sport and throw a small donation at the site’s host.) “Hallelujah” isn’t quite as balls-out as, say, Wolfmother’s “White Unicorn,” but neither is it as blatantly campy as most cuts by The Darkness. That Finland chose a metal song for their winning ESC entry is remarkable, for, as pop culture critic Elisabeth Vincentelli points out in her must-read forthcoming article on Eurovision for The Believer, the ESC is traditionally dominated by “lots and lots of disco performed by divas of all genders.” (Plus, the rubbish UK entry, “Teenage Life,” by so-called rapper Daz Sampson, placed 19th out of 24 finalists. Good news all around.)