Thanks Ario!

This review is from the heart. And Burial is so far the most important CD of the decade.

Burial :: Burial (Hyperdub, CD) Luca Maini, Contributing Editor of Igloo Magazine

(06.18.06) There’s not much left to say about this record, really. Everyone is talking about Burial, from webzines to online record shops to widespread paper magazines, and everyone agrees this is a stunning debut album. My first reaction was suspicious, fearing that dubstep overexposure might have caused some kind of over-hype, but once I put Burial in my player, I instantly recognized its absolute greatness. I just wrote enthusiastic words about Boxcutter and his Oneiric, and now comes this, which will be 95% my 2006 winner.
I do really want to point out that everything you heard or read about Burial is true: it’s probably the most emotional dubstep record ever made, borrowing inspiration from the roots of the genre but also from the static noise contamination of Basic Channel and Pole (“Distant Lighs,” “Gutted,” “Prayer”), and even adding a bit of raw synth taken from hardcore jungle (“Southern Comfort”). About the crackling digital debris that covers many parts of the record, Burial say that it’s not a reminiscence of vinyl’s surface noise, but it’s meant to recall the static interference of pirate radio transmissions. This is only one of the many reasons that caused boasting reviews in the UK, someone dared to define Burial as the most important album of the decade, and while I won’t second such an ambitious statement, I have to admit that there are not so many records in my mind that could justify such praise. Consider also that among my many friends who have deep musical knowledge, and who like very different stuff from what I listen to, they all agree Burial is an awesome record, no matter if they’re fond of indie rock, improv, minimal techno, breakcore or noise.

I still have to find someone who doesn’t appreciate Burial, but I feel it’ll be a hard task. Don’t ask me how deep the bass is, or if the breaks follow the latest trends, it’s the whole sound that mesmerizes the listener. Find the nearest retailer that stocks it and join the already huge fan base.

Cloudland Canyon

Two ways to tell that a show is amazing: nobody in the venue’s talking much and nobody’s ordering drinks. Such was the case last night at the Sunset for the Lichens/Cloudland Canyon/Richard Bishop/Acre gig (previewed here on Line Out). These performers riveted the 40 or so attendees (The Stranger’s hype machine must’ve had a few bugs in it this week) with sets that bordered on the revelatory.

Sir Richard Bishop earned his honorific with solo acoustic-guitar picking that combined—and combusted—mercurial folk picking with various ethno-sonic allusions that hinted at cultures superior to our own. Bishop played with a surprising savagery that nullified his riffing off the word “fuckstick” between songs, which became a bit tiresome after the third reference. (Dude’s sense of humor is usually much sharper than this; anyway, catch Sir Rick opening for Os Mutantes July 26 at the Moore.)

Cloudland Canyon touched on pastoral Kraut rock and subliminal techno throb in between their customary beatific dronescaping, which was bolstered by Lichens’ (Robert Lowe of 90 Day Men and TV on the Radio) contributions on FX boxes/voice/bells. This compelling set segued into Lowe’s solo shot as Lichens. Leaving his guitar at home, Lowe strictly used his vocal cords, which he fed into processors/FX pedals and layered into a sublime, wildly pitched mantra of dazzling, wordless tongues. It felt as if we were listening to a gorgeous sermon on another planet; you innately understood Lowe’s message without really sussing its origins or details. All you knew was that your entire body was coalescing into one massive goose bump and that liquor and conversation never seemed less important.

One of the best music magazines in existence, Wax Poetics, has an insanely in-depth interview/oral history in its hiphop issue with Public Enemy’s Bomb Squad production crew: Chuck D, Hank and Keith Shocklee, and Eric “Vietnam” Sadler. If you care anything about the best rap group ever (I’m willing to entertain differing opinions), then you need to check out this piece.

Also in WP’s quality pages are a heartfelt tribute to the recently deceased J Dilla by hiphop luminaries such as Q-Tip, De La Soul, Jazzy Jeff, Common, Questlove, Waajeed, Peanut Butter Wolf, and others but, oddly, not Madlib; maybe he was too distraught), an overview of the Bay Area’s hyphy scene, a reminiscence about the early DJ battles in NYC among Kool Herc, Pete Jones, and “seminal rapper” Grandmaster Flash, and loads of other literary nuggets for the hiphop aficionado/crate-digger.

Not to bite Pitchfork too hard, but they’ve got the dirt on the new Rapture album. Check it out.

All-ages expert Megan Seling guides you through the week’s top live music picks on the first edition of Audible Up and Comings. Check it out and let us know what you think (we know you will).

Thanks to misinformation posted on the Nectar Lounge website, I was under the impression that Iceage Cobra was playing there tonight. They’re not, which is too bad. However, the nice boys in the Space Cretins will be there, and they are certainly worth your time as well.

Tickets, if you can believe it, are still available for tomorrow night’s Iron Composer/Drink for the Kids Vera benefit at the Showbox, where Fred Armisen goes up against Martin Crandall and Dave Hernandez of the Shins. The most awesome part? David Cross, Todd Barry, and Jon Benjamin judge their booze-filled songwriting efforts. Heeee-larious. And one more cherry on the sundae, Pleaseeasaur opens the show. Pleaseeasaur likes wearing costumes on stage.

You can get your tickets at the Showbox Box Office (Mon-Fri, 11 am-6 pm), any Rudy’s Barbershop, and select QFC outlets. You can also charge by phone at 1-800-922-TIXX or online by www.vivavera.org.

If you think Justin Warfield’s lyrics in She Wants Revenge are stupid, just peep his bars from when he was still a shitty nerd-rapper under Prince Paul’s tutelage:

I got my skullcap on, then the flow from my mind starts
As I rip for days from the land of the mic arts
Cream of the crop, a cool, blue beatnik
Blessed with the gift, and now it’s time to kick the ill shit
Love to eat the scallops, and quit with the doo-doo raps
Stay away from ill crack, listen to the Fatback
Smooth on a rough track, time to catch a catnap
If you are my brother, I’ll be sure to give you much dap
Ya bound to get your head smacked, if you try to illjack
Get your kit from Acme, set yourself an ill trap
I used to talk of vickin’, would step and finger-lickin’
But now my mic endeavors have improved over time
Oh yeah, I’m still the same brother who has got to pickin’
So listen to the moody groove, piano, and the vibes…

Sub Pop just announced that their last show will be at the Crystal Ballroom on August 11th. Look for more details in next week’s Rocka Rolla column.

Last night I managed to fight my fatigue and made it down to Trinity to hear some house music. I was assured by a friend that it wouldn’t be crap, and to my shock, they were right. I’ll be the first to admit that Trinity is not high on my list of places I really want to be on the weekend, I have to admit that their Wednesday weekly shows promise and that I’m likely to return.

When I first heard of Proper Wednesdays a few months ago it was right around the night’s inception and hadn’t quite found its legs, since the time I tried to check it out it was over pretty early. I’m glad I went back last night to see what they had on offer. In the bar, Jon Lee and Expo were holding it down with some decent house tracks (not entirely West Coast, but with leanings there). They played things pretty fast, but it worked, and had themselves a bit of a dance area in front of the DJ booth. In the blue room there were DJs playing drum and bass, and while their track selection and mixing were more than capable (I spent half my evening in there), as the night moved on their audience drifted either home or to the bar area. Other than the noise bleed issues (curtains make an unsurprisingly poor acoustic dampener), the two rooms worked well together, providing a pleasing contrast.

The night seemed filled with regulars, but most importantly it was a welcoming environment for a newcomer such as myself. Some nights (Flammable for instance) can be a bit intimidating, and while that’s no one’s fault, it’s nice to see that Seattle isn’t always that way. It’s refreshing to see that this new night is picking up, and one that I’ll be keeping in mind for future Wednesdays, especially since their stable of DJs is solid. And if you needed any more convincing, it’s free.

Lichens (Robert Lowe)

…is where you’ll be if you hit the Sunset Tavern tonight. Going down (or up, as the case may be) there is what promises to be one of the psychedelic musical events of the summer. In this week’s Stranger, I rant here and here about Cloudland Canyon, and Steven Sawada and I discuss Lichens here and here, respectively. You already know how amazing guitarist Sir Richard Bishop is, so quit hemming and hawing and prepare to get your head exquisitely massaged by these highly evolved masters of transcendental drones and tones.

Beefs between artists are silly enough; now we have labels engaging in their own version of a stand-off. Man, I remember the days when I was horrified by the prospect of mergers and consolidations leaving us with only 4 major labels. I’d like to think the rise of indies and the internet makes this a somewhat moot point, but hell, let’s just give up and go to one major label, shall we?

Last night I had the pleasure of hearing the latest Oh Sees record, Cool Death Of Island Raiders at a friends house. We were drinking on the back porch with the stereo speakers in the living room angled towards us and the music was just audible between conversations. Eventually I had to excuse myself to go inside and get a better listen.

Oh Sees (formerly OCS) is the latest musical venture of San Francisco’s prolific John Dwyer (Pink&Brown, Coachwhips), and its a drastic departure from the cartoon noise and gutter garage rock he’s made in previous bands.

Oh Sees music is wispy and frail folk with the only hints of Dwyer’s raucous roots showing up in the densely lo-fi production and the occasionally crass song titles. It’s beautiful, broken pop music from an unlikely source, definitely worth checking out.

There must have been a kind of pre-historic time for rock music in Seattle before Sub-Pop, before Nirvana, before The EMP, when Jimi Hendrix or The Sonics could make music in a town that didn’t have an established scene or story. Now, of course, we live after the fall of grunge, in the wake of our historical moment, with our contribution to rock’s narrative already set for posterity under museum glass.

And so our current music scene is drenched in a kind of regret and nostalgia, our brightest bands are all of the “featuring former members of” variety, and shows often lack a certain vitality- they should be alive with possibility but instead they’re flat and static.

Which brings me to last night’s show at The Rendezvous, a Seattle venue that absolutely sags under the weight of its own history. Playing in the Jewel Box Theater (est. 1924!) was Triumph Of Lethargy Skinned Alive To Death, featuring Spencer Moody and Dann Galluci of Murder City Devils, and some band consisting of Seth Warren and the mohawked guitar player from Suffering And The Hideous Thieves (I think his name’s Joel). These guys go way back in Seattle, as evidenced by the crowd for their show (featuring members of Blood Brothers, Kill Sadie, etc, etc), and my expectations were pretty high.

The ex-theives played first, with Seth playing effected violin (and occasionally kicking the amp to make the spring reverb sound like thunder) while Joel played spare electric guitar and wailed plaintively about whiskey and such. He kind of came off like Chris Carrabba trying out for Lucero. Not my cup of whiskey.

I had higher hopes for TOLSATD, having seen them absolutely terrorize the Punkin House basement with their electric guitar dirges and Spencer’s confrontational sing-speaking. At that show, his vocals were fire and brimstone, and his guitar player was all dirt and distortion. This time, everything seemed reined in and reserved. Dann Galluci seemed positively wasted (squandered, not drunk) behind the drum kit, while Spencer orated like a professor over subdued guitar work. Spencer is a magnetic presence on stage, but without the massive rock of MCD or Smoke & Smoke behind him I’d just as soon watch him sing karaoke.

I try to stay out of the Seattle Weekly vs. Stranger rivalry as much as I can, but this really can’t be overlooked. This is their preview of Thursday’s Ozzfest show:

Ozzfest: Black Sabbath + Judas Priest + Slayer + Dimmu Borgir + Superjoint Ritual + Black Label Society + Lacuna Coil + Every Time I Die + more

The last time we saw Ozzy Osbourne perform, his vocal chords kept giving out, resulting in a reluctance to shoot for the higher notes of his back catalog. But the man still puts on an engaging show filled with plenty of leap-frog jumps, childlike hand claps, and jumping jacks (we are serious!) Aside from Ozzy, however, the only band that seems to be worth a damn on the bill is former Ozzy guitarist Zakk Wylde’s band, Black Label Society (although the Slayer reunion and Lacuna Coil are solid picks too—Ed.). With that in mind, the emergency tent might be more fun to watch than the performers.

This is a gaffe on quite a few levels. For one, Black Sabbath isn’t playing—Ozzy is doing a solo set. Secondly, Judas Priest isn’t playing—but they did play TWO YEARS ago. Thirdly, Slayer not only isn’t playing, they certainly aren’t “reuniting” (they never broke up). However, Slayer will play at Qwest Field on Seattle on July 14.

Dear Weekly music writers: I love a good stoning as much as the next metalhead, but I think it’s time for you to put down the bong. Or at the very least, try checking the festival website before you go to print.

My buddy Kid Congo Powers, of Gun Club/The Cramps/Congo Norvell/The Bad Seeds, etc., posted an item in his MySpace blog late last night that has me seriously thinking about jumping on a plane to L.A.. It seems that tomorrow, Thursday, June 29, as part of the Don’t Knock The Rock 2006 film festival, Kid, guitarist Ward Dotson, and drummer Terry Graham are playing a single Gun Club reunion show after the opening night screening of the Gun Club/Jeffrey Lee Pierce documentary Ghost on the Highway.

But who is filling in for long-gone Jeffrey? Here’s what Kid disclosed, following “band practice” last night (emphases mine):

Thalia Zedek (whom you know from her solo records, and COME and LIVE SKULL before that) is singing and I am so honered and thrilled and she is doing a most amazing job. Now I am really excited. I can tell you I had some trepidation about doing this at all, it really didn’t appeal to me to do a “reunion” with out Jeffrey (which means I figured it “impossible” ) but I have changed my mind. This is really a one off for me, so i plan to enjoy it.

He goes on to say that they are performing ten songs, just from the first three albums (Fire of Love, Miami, and Las Vegas Story). For the love of God, Kid, make a soundboard recording and make it available to Gun Club (and Thalia Zedek) fans who can’t make it!

David Yow and Scratch Acid: Coming to the Showbox! But hey, wasn’t he banned for life from Washington state? On a related note, doesn’t the line-up for the Touch and Go festival look amazing? Thanks to Line Out reader Levislade for the heads up.

Sleater-Kinney: Don’t bother calling the doctor, they are out. However, they will play one more Portland date (to be announced soon). If you’ve never had the opportunity to watch this woman on stage, I suggest you plan on going.

Michael Jackson and Madonna’s former producer: Jailed in the Middle East because of drug charges. I don’t see this ending nicely.

The Intonation Festival: Something I really wish I could have been at. As if the Blue Cheer reunion wasn’t enought, Roky Erickson’s performance sounds particularly heavenly. (Link requires registration, sorry.)

The Arcade Fire: Close to being finished with their new album.

The Residents: Still weird.

Purportedly, Mangum himself posted this on the E6 message board under the pseudonym “Nigh.” Pitchfork seems to have made this their big news/gossip for the day.

for the past few months ive been putting together the pieces of everything ive written in the past three years and its been a revelation. whenever i had the time ive been writing melodies and keeping them in my head for later, and songs just accumulate, im not waiting as some have said. i still dont know how we’re going to put it all together, the songs will have more noises and collages in them. because of that we dont know whether this will be korena pang or neutral milk hotel or michael bolton but that doesnt really matter. names are just a box we put things in to separate them, and we’re figuring out what box these songs go in.

we dont have a timetable for releasing the album yet, so dont get your hopes up for new songs now. if you want more “aeroplane” just ignore all of this, the songs are songs but they’re longer and more free. when jeremy came down after his tour we just spent days playing noise while screaming and it was incredibly liberating.

it has been so much fun that we will for sure be playing a show or two, probably more. freedom is a wonderful thing but at a certain point you need the routines of normal life. ive had that for a while but i realized last year at the show with the livys that the best sort of normal ive ever had was on the road with my friends. getting to gigs late with cars coughing and trombones smacking on doors, the giant egg leaks over the masses, the yolk sustains us, we eat whites for days. it can never be the same but i need to get as close as i can to that again.

so thats all. everything is happening soon, this is the year.

thanks for listening. jeff.

I doubt this is Jeff. Everything is just a little too in-line with all of the reports and rumors that have trickled in during his leave. There is the reference to noise, the desire to leave behind anything remotely close to Aeroplane, the strange analogies (I presume these were included to reflect his troubled mental state). It all seems so contrived. In fact, the post reads much like this interview in Pitchfork a few years ago.

At some point, I believe Mangum will make a return to music, albeit in a very limited capacity. But I don’t think this is him. If anyone is interested, my offer on the New Zealand bootleg still stands.

The departure of Seattle Symphony executive director Paul Meecham announced Monday has not only fueled ongoing rumors of friction between Meecham and music director/conductor Gerard Schwarz, but resurrected speculation about the musicians’ widespread weariness with Schwarz, whose contract was recently extended to 2011. Barring an abrupt resignation or all-out revolt, Schwarz, who became music director in 1985, will become the orchestra’s longest-serving maestro.

The Seattle Weekly’s Roger Downey blogged about it here while articles in the Seattle Times and the P-I offer more details.

Some of the musicians I’ve spoken to express frustration with Schwarz, ranging from technical gripes about his conducting (I’ve had a few myself, yet to be fair you can always find orchestra musicians to complain about any conductor) to long-held grudges both public and private (such as the l’affaire Cerminaro) to a simple desire for new blood, new approaches, and maybe new music.

Because your studio isn’t complete without the gear that Kraftwerk used on “Autobahn.” Oh no it isn’t. The auction has about a week to go, high rolla.

Thanks to Skye Williamson.

Don’t wanna pay full price for Bumbershoot this year? Kane Hodder to the rescue!

As posted on the band’s website, hodderrock.com, you can get discounted Bumbershoot tickets if you order them before July 14th at bumbershoot.org/presale.

Here’s the skinny: tickets go on sale to the public on July 15th at $25 for a daily ticket, and $70 for a 3-day pass. At the gate, pay just $30 for a single day, and $80 for a 3-day pass.

But, take advantage of this special pre-sale offer, and pay only $18 for the daily ticket, or $50 for a 3-day pass! PLUS, during the pre-sale only, your ticket surcharge will be waived! This is a huge savings off an already low price, but it’s a very limited offer… so what are you waiting for?

To redeem: The pre-sale is on now and available exclusively at bumbershoot.org/presale, while supplies last. Use your special access code: “KANE” and save! Once the pre-sale is over, the $18 daily tickets and $50 3-day passes will no longer be available anywhere, so don’t delay.
Expires: July 14th or when discounted tickets sell out, whichever comes first!

Hodder plays the EMP SkyChurch on Monday, Sept 4th.

I don’t know how common this scenario is, but viewed through the prism of Weird Al Yankovic (a scary thought in its own right), record companies are shafting artists with the digital-download model. Read this for the gory details.

To his fans, Weird Al writes:

I am extremely grateful for your support, no matter which format you choose to legally obtain my music in, so you should do whatever makes the most sense for you personally. But since you ASKED… I actually do get significantly more money from CD sales, as opposed to downloads. This is the one thing about my renegotiated record contract that never made much sense to me. It costs the label NOTHING for somebody to download an album (no manufacturing costs, shipping, or really any overhead of any kind) and yet the artist (me) winds up making less from it. Go figure.

Ultimately, one wonders how a music-biz vet like Weird Al could sign a contract that so royally screws him.

Thanks to Nipper for the tip.

Brace yourselves Sleater-Kinney fans. According to the press dept. at Sub Pop, this summer’s shows from the trio will be their last act together as a band until further notice. Here’s the statement, from the band, being issued to the national media at noon PST:

“After eleven years as a band, Sleater-Kinney have decided to go on indefinite hiatus. The upcoming summer shows will be our last. As of now, there are no plans for future tours or recordings.

We feel lucky to have had the support of many wonderful people over the years. We want to thank everyone who has worked with us, written kind words about us, performed with us, and inspired us.

But mostly we want to extend our gratitude to our amazing fans. You have been a part of our story from the beginning. We could not have made our music without your enthusiasm, passion, and loyalty. It is you who have made the entire journey worthwhile.

With love and thanks,

Sleater-Kinney”

Final tour dates are:
Jul 29 Mellwood Arts Center, Louisville,KY
Jul 31 Starlight Ballroom, Philadelphia,PA
Aug 01 930 Club, Washington,DC
Aug 02 Webster Hall, New York City,NY
Aug 04 Lollapalooza (Grant Park), Chicago,IL

Maybe you better buy Lollapalooza tix after all?

Respected Detroit DJ and producer Aaron-Carl returned to his home Monday evening to discover that he was dead. He had passed away earlier that morning, in a fatal car accident. Gathering at his home to mourn his passing, his friends used his instant messenger accounts to deliver the sad news to friends, fans and associates around the world.

Aaron-Carl, 1973-2006-

Aaron-Carl, who was in fact not dead and had spent the day collecting what remained of his car and dealing with insurance companies, was surprised to say the least when his inbox was filled with condolences, and his home with mourners:

They screamed, like they saw a ghost. I screamed, because my music was playing in the background, my pictures were all over the place, candles were lit…

In an e-mail clarifying certain details about his death, he had one final request:

To those who expressed love, respect and concern for me while I was “dead,” please continue to express these same feelings while I’m still ALIVE.

Alas, this week we have lost, and then regained, a vital force in electronic music. Goodbye and Hello Aaron-Carl. Live long and prosper, and rest in peace.

Stranger freelancer Tony Ware writes:

Recently I experienced the Busta Rhymes’ single “I Love My Bitch,” and its heartfelt appreciation for the long-suffering Nubian Princess made me think of another such tribute from a simpler time. Back in the 19 Hundredth and 94th Year of Our Lord LL Cool J an MC named Tasty Taste from the group Niggaz with Hats, a.k.a. N.W.H., proved that, in the words of rapper Tone Def, “The Black man was the first sensitive man, long before Alan Alda.” Tasty Taste did so with the following words:

“I want to make you mine/Slap your fat behind/Tie you down and make you whine/I want you to scratch my itch/And be my bitch/Because I love you girl.”

These words—much like when Busta says, “I love my girl ‘cause she knows the shit/She acting kinda ill but she ain’t scared of the dick”—show a man expressing his vulnerability. I would like to commend these men for showing how a thug can love.

When a band sounds EXACTLY like another band, what do you think?

Sure, artists are influenced by other artists. Look at painters – Van Gogh, the surrealists, and the impressionists. Van Gogh practiced by painting Monet’s and other artists, and the impressionists fed off each other. Musicians are no different.

But when a band sounds EXACTLY like another band, at what point does it became a rip off? At what point does it become plagiarism?

How many bands can sound like Radiohead, or The Strokes, or My Morning Jacket?

How do labels sign these bands and tout them as hot? Am I the only one feeling ripped off?

Trent - out.

CBS has announced that the new cast for the next season of the reality show Rockstar will include Portland’s most eccelectic, erotic export: Storm Large. She makes regular appearences in Seattle and has a weekly show in Portland. Naturally, The Mercury caught on to her first, but we’re rather fond of her too (see a recent Up & Coming I wrote about her here).

She’s a talented, obscenely charismatic performer with a beautiful, dramatic voice, but I have no doubt that CBS execs were as impressed with her beautiful, dramatic appearance as they were with her vocal talents. So what exactly is she competing for? The winner will become the lead singer for a new super group ingeniously named “Supernova” and featuring drummer Tommy Lee, former Guns ‘N Roses guitarist Gilby Clarke, and former Metallica bassist Jason Newsted. I’m no fan of reality TV, but I might be willing to endure the presence of icky judge Dave Navarro to watch some of it this time around. The premier episode airs next Wednesday, July 5th.

If you love music but hate electricity, here’s the player for you.

Well, maybe i ain’t the only one not drinking the Spankrock punch.

One of my faves:

Not long after an artform or regional aesthetic is exploited into the mainstream, it typically peaks at some point in popularity, then slowly dies to be replaced by the next trend. but when pioneers are established, then you can have different schools of style and approach within an artform; that allows styles to evolve beyond the “pop culture” status.

Underworld have released the final installment of their Riverrun trilogy, I’m a Big Girl, and I’m a Sister, and I’m a Princess, and This is My Horse. It’s a half hour or so of audio, a photo slideshow and some cover art for its non-existent package. It’ll cost you about five quid.

It’s a brave project conceptually, one that allows them to more fully explore the duo’s visual side, and also get their sounds into our ears without the months or years it takes for the physical music biz to digest and excrete recorded product.

It also happens to be a cool project musically, a dark and atmospheric seedbed for Karl Hyde’s elliptical, illogical monotone, complemented by some texture-y black and white photographs that, oddly, remind me of the low-rez scanned and proto-Photoshopped photographs of ’80s and ’90s zine culture.

Good stuff indeed. Go forth and purchase, etc.

These words come from an anonymous author (most likely label boss Jon Wozencroft) affiliated with Touch, a British record company specializing in experimental electronic music and esoteric field recordings. Touch is celebrating 25 years in the biz with a compilation titled Touch 25 (which I’m reviewing in the next Data Breaker).

The industry has been exposed by the heated challenges to its control over manufacturing and distribution. Turning to the new revenues of telematics, computer games and downloads, music becomes the ID-card to new practices pursued by business, and an adventure playground for the consumer collector.

For a lot of people, the ability to download mp3s, locate live torrents on Dime, blogsite, podcast and self-cast onto an i-Pod desert island, is a wonderful thing. The audience seems to be in control, probably in a honeymoon period that masks the deeper questions of infinite hard-disks, brain damage and Chinese firewalls. Can the amount of data coming online possibly keep up with the amount of storage available—what will happen? Will data be selectively removed… History about to be unwritten? What will your brain feel like when you find it has disappeared?

And I thought I was a paranoid technophobe…

Cartoon Network’s Adult Swim, in their never-ending quest to corner the market on cool (Pee Wee’s Playhouse arrives on July 10), has just released Chocolate Swim, a downloadable EP of fresh music from hot label Chocolate Industries. The six-song EP lacks the overreaching concept of a release like Danger Doom, but still is a pretty high-profile avenue for some new music (they already play hot music on the network and I know I’m looking forward to what comes from their Stone’s Throw collaboration). Alongside such heavy-hitters as Mos Def, MF Doom, Vast Aire, and Lady Sovereign, you’ll find our own DJ Collage, whose collaboration with Ghislain Poirier “Mic Diplomat” also finds its way onto the release (it’s also going to be featured on EA Sports’ NBA Live 07). If you didn’t believe the hype from Stranger Suggests this week, here’s a chance to right that wrong. DJ Collage is making moves.

See? Not Scary.

Sorry, kids, but the “Scary Clown” is dead. You can find him in the meme graveyard right next to Astronaut, Pirate, Mexican Wrestler, and Ninja.

Not everyone seems to have gotten the message, though, as evidenced by the line of suburban teens in clown makeup outside El Corazon. For some reason, tonight’s show by Twiztid, some Insane Clown Posse spin-off, didn’t make it in to The Stranger Suggests (hey, it’s a busy weekend) but that doesn’t seem to have hurt their draw.

See? Not scary.

So what is it about the “Scary Clown” that strikes such a chord with the kids? I guess I can understand liking rap-metal if you’re young, white, male, privileged, pissed off, and not very smart. But why clowns? Is the clown makeup the “real you” that nobody else understands, that your parents and your principal can’t handle because it’s too “twiztid” for them? And why would already acne-laden, dateless teens want to fuck up their complexions more by applying face paint before they go rock out and sweat a whole bunch?

If you wanna see something really scary, watch Capturing The Friedmans. The clown in that movie is downright terrifying.

Not that it matters or anything, but is Alexander O’Neal gay? The possibility never occurred to me until I watched, a few minutes ago, the 1987 video for his hit “If You Were Here Tonight.”

Come to think of it, his two biggest hits were not very kind to women. In “Fake,” he and his (male) friends (“hey fellas, we’re going to talk about a woman who is fake/fellas, can I get you to put your hands together for that”) denounce a woman for lacking real substance; and in “Criticize,” he tells a woman to basically shut her mouth and leave him and his (male) friends alone. I’ll still love Alex if he is gay and all, but why did it take me 20 years to see the signs?

Because you’re such a god-blessed music nerd, you need to become a member of MOG and let the world see your record collection, plus you need to see other music nerds’ collections, discuss their merits, share your knowledge, and, and, never go outside again. Yeah.

The MOG mission statement:

Creating a MOG lets you share your musical side like nothing else. Our “MOG-O-MATIC” application creates a basic MOG page for you, so your friends can see your music collection and the artists, albums and songs you actually listen to. As you collect and listen to music, MOG-O-MATIC keeps score for the world to see. Customizing and making your page an extension of your musical soul is made easy. And soon, you will even be able to add MOG to your blog or MySpace page. Just register for MOG, then download MOG-O-MATIC and get your page up and running. Then explore what some other moggers are into. MOG is FREE.

I’m debating whether to join. How about you?

…is its title: Impeach My Bush. (It has more oomph if you’ve seen the Peachy one in her shocking-pink hot pants.)

Coming out July 11 on XL, Impeach My Bush is an improvement over the Canadian vocalist/producer’s dire last full-length, Fatherfucker, but that’s not saying much. Her debut disc, The Teaches of Peaches, remains the raunchy rabble-rouser’s peak.

In theory, I wholly support what Peaches (AKA Merrill Nisker) is doing: spitting double-entendre-laden lyrics that would make Howard Stern blush over aggressive, gritty electro beats and throwing reverse-sexist-pig sentiments right back into said swines’ snouts. On disc, however, her XXX taunts and cum-hither overtures hit with a dull thud, as she repeats them ad infinitum until they lose their sting. Further, the music’s not interesting enough to overcome these strategic flaws, often succumbing to LCD rhythms and guitar riffs to bludgeon home Peaches’ already blatantly lewd lyrics. Impeach My Bush shows a bit more subtlety sonically, but as titles like “Fuck or Kill,” “Tent in Your Pants,” and “Slippery Dick” prove, Ms. Nisker is still prone to verbal infelicities.

Peaches plays August 9 at the Showbox with… Eagles of Death Metal. Start scheming now to weasel your way backstage.

I still have yet to write any sort of summary of my Sonar experience (in short, it was incredible), but here are two Seattle-related sights from my trip to Barcelona:

In Barcelona, the postering is all very clean and organized. I don’t mind the Seattle postering style, but there are poles in Barcelona that seem to exist for only that purpose. The pole size (3ft. diameter) lends itself to huge posters (2’ x 3’), so it’s pretty easy to find out about the bigger happenings. Considering the size of the venues you need to have posters that size to pull in the necessary numbers. As for this poster, if you look at tonight’s date, you’ll see that locals (to us) The Gossip are playing tonight (considering the time zone difference, it’s more in a few hours).

Dave’s already said plenty about Infernal Noise Brigade founder and !Tchkung! rhythm-sectioner Filastine here, so I won’t repeat that. I met him before his set prior to dj /rupture, and he’s an incredibly nice guy along with being a very engaging performer (and very mobile for a guy with a broken leg). This picture is from that performance, not held in a club but in a space known as La Makabra. It’s an autonomous community that’s brokered a deal with the police for their own independence, so it exists on the edges of anarchy in a more gritty part of Barcelona. In short, it was the perfect space for the evening’s mix of reggae, grime, ragga jungle, and other urban beats. I’ve got video I’ll post once it’s uploaded somewhere.

If you enjoyed our fearless leader Dan Savage’s piece on the peril and pitfalls of gay adoption in this week’s pullout, I would like to direct you to my interview this week with Swedish glam-rock outfit The Ark. Alas, it runs in another publication, but said periodical is edited by former Stranger music editor Jennifer Maerz (who I saw last week in SF, and she sends her love and good wishes), so I don’t feel guilty linking to it.

As you’ll read, when gay adoption was a big issue in Sweden a few years back, The Ark recorded “Father To A Son” to get out the message that legislating who or what constituted a family was not okay with them. (Lead singer Ola Salo is openly bisexual, and in a relationship with a man.) Would that a big American artist would do the same for the US queer community. Or am I missing a landmark protest song somewhere? If so, please post an appropriate comment and “school” me.

As I listen to Aaron Spectre’s Life We Promote, a devastating and relentless mash of ragga-jungle, dubstep and all things fast and dirty and vaguely Jamaican-influenced, I’m reminded of a pattern I’ve noticed among the women in my life. None of them like dancehall, in any of its forms. Specifically, they don’t like the vocals. Something about the pitch, intonation and repetition seems to rub them the wrong way. They may dig on hip hop and drum and bass, but once anything vaguely “ragga” comes into frame they screw up their faces and politely ask me to put on something else.

What’s the deal? I’m sure it’s not universal — many a female has been known to hit up Bashment and so on — but in my experience the ragga-preciation gene seems to live somewhere on the Y chromosome. Granted, the vocals can often be violent and misogynistic, but they’re also mostly incomprehensible unless you’re familiar with the patois, and a lot of hip hop has the same literary and cultural bent anyway. I wonder if there are subtle gender differences in our auditory cortices that make the rough, nasal and octave-jumping delivery of ragga-type vocals sound as unpleasant to the female ear as pitiful, warbly singer/songwriter-type noises do to many males?

All of the tickets for Mass Line’s launch party (Blue Scholars, Common Market, Abyssinian Creole) at the Showbox have been sold.
This image, by Bootsy Holler, captures Common Market, which is rapper RA Scion and beat builder Sabzi. Seattle’s post-Mix-A-Lot underground scene has had several significant moments, but the present one, which is organized around by the Mass Line label, is certainly the biggest. Not many, if any, local hiphop acts have sold out the Show Box. It’s only a matter of time before this scene goes supernova.

Green Velvet

Following up from my last post about it, here’s the latest update on Decibel’s lineup, now with helpful artist URLs.

Green Velvet (Chicago) http://www.green-velvet.com
Alex Smoke (U.K.) http://www.somarecords.com/artists/alexsmoke
Dexter (Netherlands) http://www.klakson.nl
Bola (U.K.) http://www.skam.co.uk
Thomas Fehlmann: Dub Set (Germany) http://www.flowing.de
The Dead Texan (Belgium) http://brainwashed.com/sotl/deadtexan
Fax (Mexico) http://www.faxmusik.com
Telefon Tel Aviv (Chicago) http://www.telefontelaviv.com
Apparat (Germany) http://www.apparat.net
Taylor Deupree (New York) http://www.12k.com/taylor/bio.html
Funckarma (Netherlands) http://www.funckarma.com
Richard Chartier (Washington D.C.) http://www.3particles.com
Subtle (San Francisco) http://www.subtle6.com
Andreas Tilliander (Sweden) http://www.repeatle.com
Jeremy Ellis (Detroit) http://www.ubiquityrecords.com/jeremy_ellis.html
Mokira (Sweden) http://www.repeatle.com
Claude Vonstroke (San Francisco) http://www.dirtybirdrecords.com
Panoptica (Mexico) http://www.noarte.com
Kate Simko (Chicago) http://www.katesimko.com
Jacob London (Seattle) http://www.jacoblondon.com
Brett Johnson (U.S.) http://www.robot-karate.com
Latinsizer (Mexico) http://www.milrecords.com
Tim Xavier (New York) http://www.timxavier.com
Soultek (Chicago) http://www.force-tracks.net
Plankton Man (Los Angeles) http://www.planktonman.com
Lusine (Seattle) http://www.lusineweb.com
Davide Squillace (Spain) http://www.sketchrecs.com
Jerry Abstract (Seattle) http://www.fixelplix.com
Son Of Rose (Seattle) http://www.sonofrose.net
DJ Camea (New York) http://www.djcamea.com
Nordic Soul (Seattle) http://www.dbfestival.com
Jon McMillion (Seattle) http://www.orac.vu
Yann Novak (Seattle) http://www.yannnovak.com
Randy Jones (Seattle) http://www.orac.vu
SunTzu Sound (Seattle) http://www.suntzusound.com

One new facet of this year’s festival (happening Sept 14-17) is DB Optical. Here’s the press release copy:

Optical will showcase VJs, digital and physical art, film, and other image-driven creative works. The music events throughout the weekend will contain heavy visual counterparts culminating in a day-long multimedia fusion at the Broadway Performance Hall on Sunday, September 17.

Alright kids, time to tackle producers in the same tradition as we’ve done with drummers and bass players in earlier Line Out posts. However, this time I’d like to open the forum to those that we love and those we revile.

For example, you have to recognize the contributions of the bearded one, both as a visionary and revivalist. Let’s hope he maintains his resuscitation success rate when he finishes up recording with Metallica this year:

Conversely, I blame this man for ruining Metallica in the first place, along with countless other hard rock bands. He dumbs the sound down on every level—put the drums in a wind tunnel, strips the texture from guitar sounds, and does an overall bang-up job of neutering a band’s spirits. Not that you can’t blame Metallica for some of their own demise, but there’s no arguing that Bob Rock is very, very bad man (Boooooo! Hisssss!):

Now forget (if you can) about his disturbing court appearances and remember that this man has a production technique permanently associated with his name for a reason. Mr. Wall of Sound gave us plenty to be grateful for:

Of course, we can’t forget Mr. Cranky and Caustic. Aside from Nirvana, PJ Harvey, and his own projects Big Black and Rapeman, Steve Albini is the man responsible for bringing the gorgeous clatter of the Ex to my attention, something I’ll always appreciate:

Your turn, share your love and hate, dear readers.

Let’s discuss tonight’s James Lavelle show at Chop Suey shall we?

Back in the day, James Lavelle teamed up with DJ Shadow for the UNKLE collaboration, with the name being synonymous with a particular heavy-hitting, expansive sound. It was all very MoWax, and generally pretty good. They owned my attention for a few years, and MoWax is revered as far as dead labels go. There was something good, then it wasn’t there anymore as Lavelle and Shadow went their separate ways. Fair enough.

Then a few years ago Lavelle started to tour, but not so much as UNKLE, but under his own name. He was putting out mix CDs for Global Underground, which I imagine did well enough, but they weren’t exactly my thing, and I was fine with that. So when Lavelle would come through town, I’d write it off largely as something I didn’t need to check out (and I haven’t). Now there’s a newish UNKLE album (haven’t heard it, the time and place doesn’t really exist for me anymore, plus no Shadow), and Lavelle is touring, the poster mentioning his UNKLE past.

So here’s the dilemma, which hit a local email list months ago: Is this a James Lavelle show or an UNKLE show? With opener Krnl.Panic I lean toward the latter, but I’m just not sure. Has anyone heard word from the Interweb regarding what to expect at this show tonight? I’m not looking to drop my loot on something I’m not interested in.

Movie star Johnny Depp has brought me so much joy over the years, I can’t even start listing examples without tearing up. And cult rocker Gavin Friday is my all-time musical icon, pure and simple. So the notion of Johnny being responsible for Gavin - plus Nick Cave, Bryan Ferry, Van Dyke Parks, Lou Reed, Mary Margaret O’Hara, Lucinda Williams, and dozens more cool people - recording a double-CD of friggin’ sea chanties? Well, I’m flipping out with spasms of joy. Seriously, it looks like a cannonball hit my office, I was so happy to read that Gavin had recorded the raunchy “Baltimore Whores” for this soon-to-be-released collection… produced by eccentric genius Hal Willner.

“I slowly became fascinated by the idea of a contemporary reinterpretation of the sea chantey,” explains Gore Verbinski, director of the hotly-anticipated Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest. “I imagined the artists that I listen to and respect doing their take on this age-old music: the song of the sea.” Hey, it beats imagining what kind of bubble gum they might chew if cast back to sea-faring days. So amidst all the inevitable tie-in promotions—the McDonalds happy meals, the sunscreen, the facial hair cornrow kits—here is a promo of note: the compilation Rogues Gallery: Pirate Ballads, Sea Songs & Chantys will be in stores on August 22, via the brilliant folks at ANTI- Records.

For the complete list of song titles, artists, and more details, straight from the mouths of real LA flacks, set course for the digital waters just beyond the cut:

E VERBINSKI, JOHNNY DEPP AND HAL WILLNER
JOIN FORCES WITH ANTI RECORDS FOR THE AUGUST 22 RELEASE:
“ROGUE’S GALLERY: PIRATE BALLADS, SEA SONGS & CHANTEYS”

BONO, STING, LOU REED, BRYAN FERRY, JOHN C. REILLY, RICHARD THOMPSON,
LOUDON WAINWRIGHT III, LUCINDA WILLIAMS ARE AMONG THE DIVERSE ARTISTS
ON THIS TRULY EXTRAORDINARY COLLECTION

“The ocean. It’s all about the vast blue that engulfs two thirds of the planet. The human being cast against that abyss creates an interesting bit of perspective. I think the sailors of the time were dancing with death, and these were their tunes. They resonate with people on some internal level that is not immediately obvious because it’s not in our memory, it’s in our blood. It operates on a cellular level. It’s what makes us feel so alone.”

—Gore Verbinski

Film director GORE VERBINSKI, actor JOHNNY DEPP and music producer HAL WILLNER have joined forces with ANTI RECORDS for the truly extraordinary two-CD set ROGUE’S GALLERY: PIRATE BALLADS, SEA SONGS & CHANTEYS. Due out August 22, the collection is filled with contemporary reinterpretations of songs from a genre of music that has all but disappeared. BONO, STING, NICK CAVE, BRYAN FERRY, LOU REED, LUCINDA WILLIAMS, LOUDON WAINWRIGHT III, RICHARD THOMPSON, GAVIN FRIDAY, VAN DYKE PARKS, ANDREA CORR and RUFUS WAINWRIGHT are only a few of the distinguished artists who turn in uncompromising and honest performances that illuminate the power of traditional sea songs.

The idea for ROGUE’S GALLERY originated when Verbinski and Depp were working on their second film together, the upcoming Pirates Of The Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest. “I slowly became fascinated by the idea of a contemporary reinterpretation of the sea chantey,” explains Verbinski. “I imagined the artists that I listen to and respect doing their take on this age-old music: the song of the sea.”

Verbinski then “described the project in detail to my old friend Brett Gurewitz (owner of Epitaph and Anti) who immediately understood its wondrous and strange potential. I also asked Johnny Depp if it might be something that he would like to be involved with. He has a great musical aesthetic, and as my partner in the films, his opinion is one I value. I’ve always believed Johnny is a musician first and the actor thing is just his day job. We met with Brett and put together a list of artists that we intended to go after, but were immediately confounded with the question: who would produce? Who would be mad enough to take this on?”

The project took shape when Hal Willner became “the captain of this vessel,” says Verbinski. “From that germinating withering pubic hair of an idea, Hal set sail and returned with what you hear today. He did everything.” Willner brought his knack for matching maverick musicians with extraordinary material to the project, as shown on his best-selling Disney tribute album Stay Awake and his acclaimed tributes to Kurt Weill, Charles Mingus, Nino Rota and others.

“When I was asked to do the album, I went into a world I didn’t know—which is what appealed to me,” says Willner. Immersing himself in antique bookstores, eBay, old record stores, and the Internet for hours and hours, Willner collected some 600 songs and then went about narrowing the song selection down for the album. In March 2006, the recordings began—and the process was joyously freewheeling.

“We were just crawling around, just seeing who was around,” he explains. “The Akron/Family was rehearsing, so we recorded them. And then we found Baby Gramps. And that’s kind of how we worked all over. We’d go up to London or Dublin or to New York and L.A., with just a sketch and one or two things planned. And then we got on the phone. Most of the time people just came into the studio. We picked a song, and they went for it. Basically there were a number of house bands: one in London, one in Dublin, one in New York, two separate ones in L.A., one in Seattle. We would camp and people would come in and leave or join in for the whole day. One day we did eight songs with eight different artists. Two of those artists didn’t know they were going to be in the studio that day. I just loved working this way because you wouldn’t do that with an artist normally.”

Asked about the Sting contribution “Blood Red Roses,” Willner says, “He was totally natural for this subject. He comes from Newcastle. He grew up hearing these things—it’s interesting how you hear a lot of little Beatles melodies in these songs. You know, Liverpool was a big port, and Australia and Maui and Cape Cod. Sting grew up with a lot of these songs, as did John C. Reilly. So he just came over to the studio, I gave him some songs and he just jumped into the process.”

60 songs were recorded for ROGUE’S GALLERY; 43 appear on the album. “Hopefully, there will be a volume two. I have half of it recorded already.” Willner says: “I came to age in the late sixties and early seventies of variety shows and concept records. I look at these records like you’re eating a full meal. There’s always your entrée, your vegetable that you don’t like but it’s good for you. And you want to cover it all. You need to establish the unknown, the famous, the obscure. Usually in the past I’ve always found that the secret weapons on these records are any new artists because you’re coming at it without expectations. And there’s other people that you’ve heard for years—but on that side it goes to another level.”

Willner is now anxious for others to discover the enchanting mystery of ROGUE’S GALLERY. “Obviously I want people to love it the way I do,” he says. “I would hope that it works on a level where they just want to go and close their eyes and have an experience—and come out of it the same way I came out of it, wanting to hear more. Put this record in your collection as a classic—that was Gore Verbinski and Johnny Depp’s idea.”

Proud of what all of the artists have brought to the album, Verbinski says that the “recordings are vibrant, inspired, rough hewn, and imperfect in that way that only perfection achieves.”

ROGUE’S GALLERY has a perfect home on Anti, the Epitaph Record-affiliated label known for releasing albums by classic renegade artists like Merle Haggard, Tom Waits and Nick Cave. Says Willner: “I think this was the original punk music in an odd way. You can hear it in songs like ‘Bully in the Alley’ and ‘A Drop of Nelson’s Blood.’ It’s there.”

The complete ROGUE’S GALLERY track listing is as follows:

CD 1
1. Cape Cod Girls - Baby Gramps
2. Mingulay Boat Song - Richard Thompson
3. My Son John - John C. Reilly
4. Fire Down Below - Nick Cave
5. Turkish Revelry - Loudon Wainwright III
6. Bully In The Alley - Three Pruned Men
7. The Cruel Ship’s Captain - Bryan Ferry
8. Dead Horse - Robin Holcomb
9. Spanish Ladies - Bill Frisell
10. High Barbary - Joseph Arthur
11. Haul Away Joe - Mark Anthony Thompson
12. Dan Dan - David Thomas
13. Blood Red Roses - Sting
14. Sally Brown - Teddy Thompson
15. Lowlands Away - Rufus Wainwright & Kate McGarrigle
16. Baltimore Whores - Gavin Friday
17. Rolling Sea - Eliza Carthy
18. The Mermaid - Martin Carthy & the UK Group
19. Haul On The Bowline - Bob Neuwirth
20. Dying Sailor to His Shipmates - Bono
21. Bonnie Portmore - Lucinda Williams
22. Shenandoah - Richard Greene & Jack Shit
23. The Cry Of Man - Mary Margaret O’Hara

CD 2
1. Boney - Jack Shit
2. Good Ship Venus - Loudon Wainwright III
3. Long Time Ago - White Magic
4. Pinery Boy - Nick Cave
5. Lowlands Low - Bryan Ferry w/Antony
6. One Spring Morning - Akron/Family
7. Hog Eye Man - Martin Carthy & family
8. The Fiddler/A Drop of Nelson’s Blood - Ricky Jay & Richard Greene
9. Caroline and Her Young Sailor Bold - Andrea Corr
10. Fathom The Bowl - John C. Reilly
11. Drunken Sailor - David Thomas
12. Farewell Nancy - Ed Harcourt
13. Hanging Johnny - Stan Ridgway
14. Old Man of The Sea - Baby Gramps
15. Greenland Whale Fisheries - Van Dyke Parks
16. Shallow Brown - Sting
17. The Grey Funnel Line - Jolie Holland
18. A Drop of Nelson’s Blood - Jarvis Cocker
19. Leave Her Johnny - Lou Reed
20. Little Boy Billy - Ralph Steadman

Came across this while listening to audio samples from each of the 801 12” singles released this week. (More on that later, when the experiment is complete.) It is, apparently, the ultimate sex track. Use the intro to fire up some scented candles and lead your partner to the boudoir, then dim the lights and throw down.

The Last Waltz is Martin Scorsese’s 1978 documentary about the Band’s final live performance as a quintet 30 years ago. It captures the Canadian-American roots-rock legends playing with a constellation of talented pals (Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Muddy Waters, Joni Mitchell, Dr. John, Van Morrison, Eric Clapton, Ringo Starr, Neil Diamond [?!], and others) at San Francisco’s Winterland. For some inexcusable reason, I am only just now watching this justifiably revered classic. Here are some thoughts about it.
* Levon Helm is a true badass, keeping funky time on the drums while shouting soulfully into the mic. Eat his dust, Phil Collins.
* The Band bassist Rick Danko is dorky as hell onstage and probably shouldn’t be allowed near a microphone. But dude probably got more ’tang than anybody in the group.
* The Band guitarist Robbie Robertson, according to Stranger freelancer Angela Garbes (who graciously let me view this flick on her TV), looks like Valerie Bertinelli. She nevertheless finds Robertson “hot.”
* Van Morrison quite possibly was inebriated during this show, as his clumsy kicks and general flailing around the stage seem to indicate. And who told him it was a good idea to don a glittery codpiece? Ah, we’ll always have Astral Weeks.
* Joni Mitchell is a luminous talent—and she has the smallest nose I’ve ever seen.
* It was cruel for Scorsese to fade out “Chest Fever” (my favorite Band song) after 30 seconds and cut to a backstage interview.
* Muddy Waters and the Band did a stirring rendition of “I’m a Man,” even though Muddy clearly was past his prime. And I just realized how funny it is that Muddy feels compelled to spell out M-A(child)-N in this song—as if otherwise we wouldn’t grasp the concept that he is indeed in possession of a Y chromosome.
* The Band bowed out at the right time—still near the peak of their powers. I only own Music from Big Pink and The Band, but after seeing this film, I will seek out more of their releases. They combined deft, versatile instrumental skills with amazing inter-band chemistry, deep songwriting chops, and soul to burn.
* The Band keyboardist Richard Manuel possessed a look of crazed intensity. Gazing at him in The Last Waltz, you could sense ex-post facto why he’d hanged himself.

Richard Manuel

Number one thought when having to travel to SoCal- “Get in and get out.” I hate LA. But in my lifelong struggle to find some good in all that’s shite, I finally discovered Fingerprints! The Long Beach record store has supplied its natives with some pretty rad, cutting edge music for over a decade now. And to my surprise, upon walking in, guess who I found behind the counter… Elvin Estela. That’s right… Nobody- the scruffy, Ubiquity/PlugResearch psych-head and occasional Dntel and Prefuse collaborator. I guess everyone’s gotta work. Their online presence is pretty all encompassing… Check it out

If Line Out allowed us to flag posts as “Trash” as we do on the Slog, this weblog of groupie exploits would definitely qualify. I can’t remember how I came across this in the past (perhaps it was when I was writing this article), but I stumbled upon it again last night and thought I should share with the rest of the class. Among the fascinating factoids to be had: Tom Araya from Slayer is uncircumsized; the dude from Extreme is “so small if somebody saw you sucking his dick it would look like you were smoking a joint;” Zach de la Rocha is “obsessed with playing with girls’ hair;” and Robin Zander is “comprable to Tommy Lee.” Enjoy.

Say what you will about the Arcade Fire (“Pitchfork made me do it!”), but I sorta love ‘em. And by “them,” I mean their song “Rebellion (Lies),” as I can’t say I’ve heard any other song of theirs. But “Rebellion”… Oh, it’s fucking brilliant. It’s also the most punk rock song on the face of the Earth.

Sure, there have been a number of tunes to bravely call out a number of things that deserve a good tounge lashing—George W., war, cheating significant others… But what does Arcade Fire take to task? Sleeping. That’s right, they call bullshit on sleeping. Check out the lyrics:

Sleeping is giving in, no matter what the time is. Sleeping is giving in, so lift those heavy eyelids.

People say that you’ll die
faster than without water.
But we know it’s just a lie,
scare your son, scare your daughter.

People say that your dreams
are the only things that save ya.
Come on baby in our dreams,
we can live our misbehavior.

Every time you close your eyes
Lies, Lies!

People try and hide the night
underneath the covers.
People try and hide the light
underneath the covers.

Come on hide your lovers
underneath the covers,
come on hide your lovers
underneath the covers.

Hidin’ from your brothers
underneath the covers,
come on hide your lovers
underneath the covers.

People say that you’ll die
faster than without water,
but we know it’s just a lie,
scare your son, scare your daughter,

Scare your son, scare your daughter.

Now here’s the sun, it’s alright! (Lies!)
Now here’s the moon, it’s alright! (Lies!)
Now here’s the sun, it’s alright! (Lies!)
Now here’s the moon it’s alright (Lies!)

But every time you close your eyes. (Lies!)

That’s fucking awesome! I totally agree, I hate sleeping too! I really do! I hate dreaming, I hate dreams, it’s all just so stupid and I wish our lame human bodies didn’t “need” it for survival. And it’s about time someone said so! So thank you, Arcade Fire, thank you.

Listen to “Rebellion (Lies)” here.

It’s like that. Radio 4 were some limp, cold-ass shit last night. No wonder Neumos was so cavernously empty, maybe everyone else caught these guys opening that Gang Of Four show that I missed.

I didn’t want to be too quick to give The DFA all the credit for these guys ever having an interesting song, but that seems to have been the case. Without James Murphy’s athletic percussion and Tim Goldsworthy’s reliably funky production, these guys were just a mediocre rock band (with the only exception being their multi-percussionist Bez-type guy, he was great). Even “Dance To The Underground” felt rushed and awkward, and not just because of the absurdity of trying to “electrify” only a dozen or so people in Neumos’ huge, empty showroom. No, the problem was that the song was being played by a rock band as a rock song and it simply failed in that context; that track exists to be played for a dance floor on a soundsystem and it just shouldn’t exist otherwise.

(I can’t help but think that there must’ve been a moment when Mr. Murphy was turning the knobs for these guys when he realized he didn’t need to work with other bands’ vocal hooks, that he could just make his own and it would be far more interesting.)

Frites, however, make the best french fries I’ve ever had, hands down. Try the poblano ranch or the adobo mayo. No show at Neumos will ever be a total disappointment as long as they have Anthony’s deep-friers on their side.

Bonnaroo: A roaring success.

Top of the Pops: Cancelled after 42 years on the air. Remember the Nirvana performance? Priceless.

The Replacements: Reissued and revered.

Guns n’ Roses: Pelted with pee!

Gene Simmons: In possession of very few friends. Gee, I wonder why.

Rufus Wainwright: So very, very gay.

If you’re like me you have a good internet connection, read the news on Pitchfork, and download the occasional MP3.

So you’ve probably also been listening to the new TV On The Radio record, Return To Cookie Mountain (apparently, not a working title) for the last few months and wondering, like me, why the hell it has yet to be released. The record, or at least the version of it that’s been leaked via file sharing networks, is their best work yet. It is simply a masterpiece.

I guess what this has me wondering is: what does it even mean to “release” an “album” these days? Does it occur when the music becomes publicly available or when the music is manufactured as a physical product? Does it undermine an artist or a label’s intent (or bottom line) when leaks occur? When a record is leaked so widely for so long and with such publicity what does it mean when the actual record comes out? Does anyone care?

Listen to it any way you can, but do support the band when the thing finally comes out and when they come through town again.

And I have an uncontrollable urge to grind them into fertilizer (assuming they’re biodegradable; I have my doubts). I gave a listen to Keane’s new disc, Under the Iron Sea, this afternoon. I must say, I cannot fathom the popularity of these annoyingly bland (yet bombastic), faux-profound U2/Coldplay biters. Keane are yet one more egregious example of what I call the New Wave of Vanilla (Snow Patrol, Doves, Travis, South, half of Astralwerks’ roster, etc.), whose members seem hell-bent on bleeding all excitement from rock. Well done, lads.

One Keane member said in the press sheet, “We wrote Under the Iron Sea because we needed a record that was going to make us feel alive again.” If I should be unfortunate enough to encounter you, Keane, you will know once more what it’s like to feel unalive.