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Archives for 02/04/2007 - 02/10/2007

Saturday, February 10, 2007

Record-Peddling Newcomers Peloton Musique

posted by on February 10 at 9:00 PM

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This is a peloton.

Seattle has a new record label: Peloton Musique. It will focus on experimental techno. Crazy, huh? These blessed altruists have gotta be commended for launching such an endeavor in 2007. Here’s their inaugural press release, which cannot be improved upon. I am going to support their quixotic venture. I hope you do so, as well.

Aron Schoppert, Shane Silkey, and Eli Huntington have teamed up to launch a new experimental techno label. We are using the term “techno” in the broadest sense, as our intent is to release creative works across multiple genres. In our minds, “techno” is the application of emerging technologies to classical musical constructs, and all of the artists representing the label will be chosen for their abilities to demonstrate novel ideas and techniques in sonic expression.

Our first release (catalog no.: PEL-001) will be a limited-edition 2xLP bicycle-themed compilation, featuring remixes of a custom sample kit comprised of air pump blasts, spoke plucks, brake compresses, and sprocket click-clacks. We still believe in the power of vinyl as an artistic medium, and we plan on launching this release with full gatefold artwork and bonus extras.

We have already commissioned some of our favorite artists for this initial release, but we know that there are countless other voices with contributions to make to the dynamic conversation that is contemporary electronic music. Therefore, we are opening the doors to anybody who would like to submit their original compositions for release consideration.

Trouble And Bass

posted by on February 10 at 2:47 PM

OF Montreal, The Blow - The Showbox

It’s been years since I last saw Khaela Maricich perform, and I can’t remember if that would’ve been as the Blow or as her previous incarnation, Get The Hell Out Of The Way Of The Volcano. Whichever it was, the last time I saw her was probably at some little all-ages art space or house show (Olympia’s defunct Arrow Space or Seattle’s Secluded Alley Works, maybe) with about 30 people. So seeing her take the stage in front of a sold-out Showbox crowd was something else entirely. A lot of the audience was chatting as she launched into an a cappella of “How Naked Are We Gonna Get?” but halfway through the song people seemed to realize that this was in fact the show.

Maricich’s dance moves have improved considerably in the last few years. She exudes real confidence in her quirky, bedroom-dancing choreography, her geeky, collegiate whiteness, and her literally illustrative gestures. she even did “the worm” at one point. The last time I saw someone own the Showbox stage so well with only a microphone was M.I.A., and the Blow didn’t even have a hype-girl or a DJ to play off of. The crowd almost seemed to like her between song banter better than her actual songs, cheering wildly for her serialized descriptions of running to karaoke bars, dancing for college credit at Evergreen, and talking to boys. She riffed about there being two kinds of pop songs—songs of longing (she sang the choruses of “My Sharona” and “Hey Mickey” as examples) and songs of love and contentment—and how she greatly prefers songs of want. Between her dancing, singing, and story-telling, Maricich was breathless, and the very human fallibility of her voice was charming. Maricich has a lovely, practiced singing voice, but the way she embraces and plays with its limitations is refreshing. Plus, the Blow are totally crush-worthy—I can’t remember the last time I felt so enamored of someone on stage. Her whole set was fairly fun, but “Pile of Gold” and “Parentheses” were especial highlights.

The sound was fine for the Blow—not surprising, since there’s just a mic and a pre-recorded set of music—but Of Montreal had issues. It sounded, to my parties’ ears, like they were playing in another room, underwater, or on a clock radio. The vocals were clear, and the synth on “Heimdalsgate Like A Promethean Curse” cut through the mix brilliantly, but most of their set sounded strangely muffled—a friend remarked that it somehow sound both muddy and tinny. Of Montreal’s recordings are such crystal clear, finely detailed constructions, and hearing them rendered so flat live was disappointing. Live, the band seem less polished and more psychedelic, which would have worked fine if the sound was better. There were some computerized mandalas projected behind the band which expanded and contracted and became pixelated like some old mac screensaver, and at other times, shots of the band playing filled the screen, jumbotron-style, occasionally altered with some public-access quality video effects. The band had cool, glittery outfits and garish makeup of course, but it wasn’t the total spectacle that all the hype I’d heard had me expecting. Today, on my home stereo, Hissing Fauna is still utterly fantastic—it’s just a shame the show didn’t sound this good.


Drop The Lime - Re-Bar

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Sound was an issue at Re-Bar too, which was surprising given how much extra amplification had been brought in for the show. Naha’s set sounded fine, if not as loud and bassy as I’d been hoping for. But when Drop The Lime went on, the sound was a ghost audible only in the monitors. It was too bad, because from what could be heard it sounded like DTL launched straight into some heavy shit. Dude was feeling it, rocking out and pumping fists, seemingly unaware of the sound issue. After a minute or two he realized what was up and got on the mic for a minute while things got sorted out. After that the sound was fine, but again not as bass-heavy as promised. Still, DTL is on top of his game—he had the crowd going nuts for his refixes of “The Final Countdown” and “Died In Your Arms Tonight,” not to mention all his original material, and he worked the mic like a maniacal hype man, chopping and tweaking his shout outs into his set. It was a great show, and there was a great crowd out, including lots of familiar faces. If Shameless keeps throwing insane parties with talent like Modeselektor and Drop The Lime, then NME’s much-heralded “new rave” might actually happen in Seattle, but it’s not going to look like they thought it would.

If you wanted to see Of Montreal last night but couldn’t because it was sold out…

posted by on February 10 at 1:01 PM

…you missed nothing.

Except an amazingly bad show. The audience clearly wanted it to be great, and were trying to make the best of it. And there was a song or two that went over really well and got the crowd jumping. But there’d been a lotta hype—peddled by, uh, me (and others)—about how *insane* and *theatrical* this show was going to be, and it was neither insane nor particularly theatrical. It was hard to tell whether singer Kevin Barnes was not into it or if being not into it was his affect—either way, who wants to watch that? And it sounded insanely bad (as if the band were in the next room and we were hearing them through the wall—that muddy). And the much-talked-about projections were insanely dull (for the first six or so songs, the image projected up on the screens was the cover of their own album).

It was the kind of show that makes you realize how beautiful the Showbox is—the whole time you’re looking around trying to find anything else to concentrate on. As soon as we decided to leave, they trotted out the 10-foot-tall dress, which I’d heard about, and which inspired us to stay a little longer, but which turned out to be, well, a ladder, with Barnes kneeling on top, so he couldn’t move, while the ladder’s boxy shape poked through the long fabric. Then he got off the ladder and went on disaffectedly singing/wailing, and still they sounded like they were in the next room or we were underwater, and we left.

Anyone stay to the end? Did he climb into giant animal, as was promised weeks ago on Line Out?


Friday, February 9, 2007

Funk Disco Polka Squaredance!

posted by on February 9 at 11:07 PM

It’s late so why the fuck not!

The Hag

posted by on February 9 at 5:40 PM

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A concert that should not be missed is this Sunday, February 11, at the Paramount: Neko Case and Merle Haggard. Haggard is what I love about country music: He’s authentic and his music is simple and heartfelt. He sings about heartbreak, drinking, rambling, prison, his struggling mama, the depression—all based on his own experiences. He was born and raised in Bakersfield, California, for god’s sake (also home to Buck Owens, Dwight Yoakam, and Korn) and his parents were actual Okies. (Currently, he lives on the outskirts of my hometown, Redding, California.)

He’s not so popular with today’s mainstream country crowd because he doesn’t play that terrible, overproduced, Southern-rock, Nashville sound that is the norm for commercial country music today. (Or, as George Jones recently said, perfectly: “They say they’re upgrading country music. I tell them they need to find a new title and let us have back our traditional country music. They’ve stolen our identity.”) Haggard is a prolific songwriter; he writes from the heart and his songs hurt in the best way. (The Haggard song I’ve been listening to the most lately: “Today I Started Loving You Again” from 1968. It’s simply beautiful.)

The man speaks his mind and does shit his own way. I saw him play at the San Francisco Jazz Festival a few years ago at the 3,000-seat Nob Hill Masonic Center. He was supposed to play an entire set of Bob Wills songs (the king of country swing); the opening band, who’s name escapes me, were also going to throw a few Wills songs into their set, but they ended up playing most of the ones Haggard had planned on performing. Well, that didn’t sit right with the Hag, so when he came out, he played an entire set of HIS songs. People were confused; people were pissed. My friends and I were ecstatic. It was a great show. (At one point he started to play the opening to his tongue-in-cheek “Okie from Muskogee,” then stopped it and said something like, “Nah, I’m not gonna do that one here…”)

Haggard started making records in the 1960s, when country was starting its decline toward plain suckiness. Overproduced, meaningless, soulless—everything that’s culminated into what we have today: nothin’ special. But when everyone else was adding strings and gloss, Haggard was playing straight-up, stripped-down honky tonk with a wandering, bluesy lead guitar, a hard-edged steel, and lyrics from the heart. He’s been consistently releasing albums ever since, on both major and independent labels (in 2000 and 2001 he released records on Epitaph).

This will be a great show. I wish I could go, but, goddamn, I don’t have an extra $60 lying around. The concert is $44.50–$49.50 plus all those fees (about $12 worth). It’s at 7:30 pm and there are still seats left. Go.

The Vicious

posted by on February 9 at 5:38 PM

Has everybody already heard this band, the Vicious, from Umeå, Sweden? (I have to ask because I’m an ignorant, ignorant square.) I’m just back from a few weeks of running around the rock clubs of Europe (which made me more thankful than I realized for the Seattle smoking ban) and everyone was going nuts for these Vicious guys. (You can listen to some of their songs here.)

Apparently they’re born of a Swedish Umeå scene seeded with money from the International Noise Conspiracy and they’re a guilty goddamned pleasure—all the clichés of punk rock rolled into a beautiful, candy-coated package. The band members are all beautiful and well-pressed, their city (just a few klicks south of the Arctic Circle) has something like the lowest crime rate in the world, but they sing about violence and Clash-type scenarios with “the pigs kicking in doors and breaking bottles.”

I’m not a fan of authenticity for its own sake—the quest for The Real is one of the most stupidly quixotic wastes of time in art, especially punk and hiphop—but it does seem a waste to have such a great band write about such irrelevant subject matter.

They should write songs about how everyone around them is attractive, speaks five languages, and has great style. Or about nationalized health care. They could name their next single “Democratic Socialism Built a Little Ghetto in My Soul.”

That would be great.

Because I Spend Way Too Much Time Looking at Club Calendars

posted by on February 9 at 3:18 PM

Props to whoever redesigned Hell’s Kitchen’s concert calendar. Someone’s not only been collecting all the show posters people have been making each week and putting them up, but also putting together new ones for every night that doesn’t already have one. Sounds like a lot of work. I especially like the demon-skull-and-crusader-cross insignia that goes up after each day, nice touch.

Tonight, the Divorce is headlining a show with Iceage Cobra and Thee Emergency at the Kitchen. I’m going to be at the Crocodile, though, for Triumph of Lethargy, Akimbo, and Lesbian. (!!)

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Deerhunter, Please Eat What You Kill

posted by on February 9 at 1:35 PM

This post should balance out Erica C Barnett’s “fat-phobia” from yesterday:

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The guy from Deerhunter scares me. That’s all.

Potatoes in the Cave (Singers)

posted by on February 9 at 1:04 PM

I finally went to see the Cave Singers last night, opening for Night Canopy at the Crocodile. Wow. I was completely mesmerized. Tenor guitar, melodica, three sizes of washboards… and yet, it didn’t seem gimmicky at all. They even had tasteful mood lighting, courtesy of a small reading lamp. But my favorite thing? The sleeve art of their self-released CDs (limited to an edition of 200, if the numbers are to be believed):

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You can’t see the texture of the tempera paint in the photo, but unless I am sorely mistaken, that is a potato print! Of an owl, no less. How much do you want to bet someone in the band does macrame? Viva le crafts!

Traditional Means Crack

posted by on February 9 at 12:59 PM

Traditional, Christian America is on crack.

Proof, look at this book of sheet music - Wedding Music - Instrumental Keyboard Solo:

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“Classical, contemporary Christian, and traditional favorites. Arrangements for the piano and organ as well as some additional parts for a C instrument. Spiral-bound.”

Here are some of the selections:

How Beautiful
With All My Heart
Make Us One
Bind Us Together
Cherish The Treasure
Greensleeves
I Love You Truly
Love Will Be Our Home
O Perfect Love

Cherish the Treasure? The connotations here are blatantly crack ridden.

Whoever wrote that was on crack. Whoever plays it is on crack. Whoever likes it is on crack. And whoever wants it at their wedding is on crack. It’s all crack. We need help.

Now I’m going to put on some of Eazy-E’s, Eazy-Duz-It, and calm myself down.

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Tonight In Music

posted by on February 9 at 11:45 AM

In their own words…with video!:

Drop the Lime, w/ Naha, Squid Leader, Axcys, Justin Byrnes, @ Re-Bar:

“Music is just the vibration of molecules, and in our brain we have 100 billion neurons that are waiting to be excited by different vibrations. Bass, especially sub bass below hearing level (30hz to 20hz), gives us a feeling of nervous excitement, causing the musical experience to be physical, like a rollercoaster. Experiencing music without bass isn’t as stimulating as with loud, pumping bass in a club, and people are less likely to dance. It’s amazing what a couple subwoofers can do to a crowd…I want people to dance, and by dancing you allow people to feel free.”

Triumph of Lethargy Skinned Alive to Death, w/Akimbo, Lesbian, @ the Crocodile:

“I’m not a good guitar player…I know that you don’t have to be ‘good’ to be good, so we just fucking do what we can do and I love it. The one rule that me and [guitarist] Corey [Brewer] have is that you do whatever the fuck you want.”

Of Montreal, w/ the Blow, Aqueduct, @ the Showbox (sold out):

“Let’s just say that it’s visually… interesting.”

North American Scum

posted by on February 9 at 9:47 AM

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LCD Soundsystem have announced North American tour dates, including a show in Seattle, May 2nd at the Showbox. The tour will be in support of their brilliant new record, Sound of Silver, which you’ve maybe already heard, but which you should still go out and buy on March 20th if you’re down with James Murphy’s quixotic quest to send it to the top of the charts.

LCD Soundsystem Video: North American Scum (from Sound of Silver

Scissor Sisters Conjured on Passions

posted by on February 9 at 12:01 AM

The toddler witch.
The text bubbles.
The hardcore product placement.

My brain, it melts.


Thursday, February 8, 2007

Drop the Lime (Extended Mix—with New Hott Photo)

posted by on February 8 at 3:40 PM

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Drop the Lime comes to Seattle with bass motives.

As usual with Data Breaker interviews, a lot of content doesn’t make the final cut for the print version. In the interest of serving hardcore Drop the Lime fans and those curious to know more about him, I’ve put the full Q&A of our interview (all 1400+ words) after the jump. Sadly for Ari, there is no discussion of Drop the Lime’s hotness.

Drop the Lime plays Re-bar Friday Feb. 9.

Continue reading "Drop the Lime (Extended Mix—with New Hott Photo)" »

Charlie’s Room

posted by on February 8 at 2:19 PM

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Charlie is 13. His room is a throwback, a treasure chest of vinyl records and black light posters. He has an 8 track machine. There are dragons, skulls, and Kiss. There are saved Yoohoo and root beer bottles. Artifacts and symbols from a pop culture that adolescence identifies by and through.

I saved my Yoohoo bottles too, and a Mr. Pibb can from a family trip to the Grand Canyon. Why do we save Yoohoo bottles? Or some beer can we didn’t even drink? Mementos perhaps. Like objects on an altar, meaning and strength are derived. Of course, Charlie had the Cobain and Hendrix and Tupac posters as well, but when he asked if I would like to sit down and listen to his Olivia Newton-John 8 track, I realized a moment of ordained release and healing had presented itself.

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From the song, ‘Magic’, off of Magic - The Very Best of Olivia Newton-John:

“You have to believe we are magic / Nothin’ can stand in our way
You have to believe we are magic / Don’t let your aim ever stray
And if all your hopes survive / Your destiny will arrive
I’ll bring all your dreams alive / For you”

Then Charlie put on his vinyl Houses of the Holy. We listened, and didn’t talk. There’s something therapeutic to the physicality of vinyl. Maybe it was just the Yoohoo, but damn, Jimmy Page never sounded better.

I left Charlie’s room a better person. He, like a soothsayer, nodded in acknowledgement.

Thank you, Master Charlie. I believe we are magic. Thank you for the slow ride to the good side.

What I Think When I Hear “Drop The Lime”

posted by on February 8 at 1:29 PM

I just Dropped the Lime.

Oh Yeah!

Sasquatch Dates Announced

posted by on February 8 at 12:56 PM

SASQUATCH! ANNOUNCES FESTIVAL DATES FOR MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND SATURDAY, MAY 26TH AND SUNDAY, MAY 27TH TICKETS GO ON SALE SATURDAY, MARCH 3RD AT 10AM SEATTLE, WA - February 7, 2007 Sasquatch! Music Festival announces its 6th annual event to be held over Memorial Day Weekend on Saturday, May 26th and Sunday, May 27th at the Gorge Amphitheatre. Tickets for the festival go on-sale Saturday, March 3rd at 10:00 am. Camping for the festival is available starting Friday, May 25th through Sunday, May 27th on the grounds and reservations can be made upon ticket purchase. The line-up for the 2007 Sasquatch! Music Festival will be officially announced Tuesday, February 20th.

Stay Tuned to Lineout for immediate posts about the line up!

Glorious Noise (Again)

posted by on February 8 at 12:49 PM

via KEXP Blog:

Girl, You Can Drop My Lime Anytime!

posted by on February 8 at 12:31 PM

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You can read Dave Segal’s article about Drop the Lime here, but I just want to point out a very important fact that Segal ignored about this DJ— he is a bomb hottie. And his name is motherfucking Luca.

Daaaaaammmmnnnn.

I know that bringing up aesthetics is not what “music writing” is all about, but how about I pretend I’m writing for Vogue or some bullshit and just announce that I will be attending this show purely to gape at this Brooklyn vixen. I’m sure he will be wearing some lame-ass BAPE hoodie or something, and maybe he won’t even look up from his decks, and maybe he’s not as hot as this glossy picture.

But then again, maybe he will dress like Freddie Mercury and press the button on his laptop to make it play things he already made. Then he will emerge from his DJ booth, find me in the crowd and whisper something sweet in my ear like, “Hey- do you like tequila?” and I will say, “Do I!” and then we will wander off into the night. Or something.

A girl can dream, right?

The White Way

posted by on February 8 at 12:29 PM

In an interview this week in The Stranger, Of Montreal’s frontman Kevin Barnes says:

You can listen to the White Album or Sgt. Pepper’s like a trillion times over your lifetime and never get totally sick of it.

That’s how the sentence is printed in the paper this week. Anything about it seem weird to you? Isn’t something missing its italics? Looks like an error, doesn’t it?

Well, it isn’t. Not officially. People who know what they’re talking about know that, officially, The White Album doesn’t have a name. But c’mon. It’s referred to as The White Album in, well, millions of places, including The New Yorker. And the New York Times. And Salon. And, um, Slog. And, well, pretty much everywhere else except the cover of the album itself (which just says The Beatles) and on my iTunes (which says The Beatles [White Album]).

I realize this doesn’t matter to anyone, but does it or does it not look retarded to have Sgt. Pepper’s and The White Album in the same sentence, but for only one of them to be italicized? Isn’t it time The Stranger got with the rest of the world on this and just changed our house style? What’s wrong with just calling it The White Album? Will anyone be confused? And if you say, well, the White Album is its nickname—as the insurgents in the copyediting department insist—and you don’t italicize it, then why even capitalize it? Just treat “white” as an adjective if you’ve gotta be so stringent. Or, hell, why don’t we just write it like that? The “white” album. Or, even better: the [     ] album. You know, just some white space?

Sigh. I’ll shut up now. After all, a little more digging finds the New York Times referring to it… well, the wrong way. (Meaning, the correct way.) Here. And also here. And over here in the magazine.

Anyway, when you read—

You can listen to the White Album or Sgt. Pepper’s like a trillion times over your lifetime and never get totally sick of it.

—in the paper this week and it seems wrong to you, well, it’s not wrong. Officially.

As you were.

Re: Blackblack

posted by on February 8 at 12:00 PM

Yesterday I heard back from Blackblack regarding the Deerhoof show discussed in my column. Here’s their response (emphasis mine):

We have played a show before with the same costume, and actually nobody perceived it as blackface and nobody was offended. I think that several people in the Seattle crowd misunderstood the show. We weren’t doing it at all to be interpreted as black face. The intention of the costume was to be a kind of shadow. Blackface typically includes other aspects than just black paint, such as bright red exaggerated lips and certain types of clothing such as coat tails or rags. Our lips were also completely black. The effect of using black paint was to contrast it with the whites of our eyes and white dresses. In response to your other question, we didn’t play in white face the next night, we actually played in safari costumes. We have played as ghosts before, covered competely in white make-up and nobody attached any racial connotation to that either. Also, the people at the Seattle show that were offended were in the minority. Most of the people at the show did not interpret the make-up as blackface, at least this is the feeling that i got from talking to people after the show and from hearing accounts of the audiences reaction from friends who were also in the audience. Two people came up to us after the show and expressed their displeasure, but went on to apologize at the Portland show later that week. I am majoring in psychological biology, which is similar to neuroscience, and something that I have learned is that the way people interpret things has a lot more to do with themselves than with the subject they are interpreting. The brain is very intricate and very powerful. Anyway, I hope that helps in understanding the situation. -Diva Dompe’ of blackblack

The Power of Prince

posted by on February 8 at 11:38 AM

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Ever since his dazzling halftime performance, Prince is hot shit again, and as a diehard fan of that little genius freak since puberty, I couldn’t be happier with the post-Superbowl love being thrown his way. (When a coworker with a rejuvenated Prince crush asked if I had any of his albums in my iPod, I was forced to disclose that I have 17 of his albums on my iPod. Yes, that includes all of Emancipation AND all of Crystal Ball.)

This morning brought another lovely collision with the ongoing Princeaissance, at the Vivace Roasteria, where Prince’s 1991 funk bomb “Gett Off” came on the sound system and drove the line of workers behind the counter in an extended ecstasy, or as close to ecstasy as slammed baristas can be. It was glorious.

Always The Best

posted by on February 8 at 11:22 AM

To that idiot who had the nerve last night to ask for my opinion of the best pop band of the second half of the 20th century, here is my answer again: Roots Radics.
1HBEA110_Cover.jpg First, it’s not an opinion but the truth. Second, there isn’t even a close second to the Roots Radics. Maybe early PIL? Maybe Joy Division? Maybe The Blacks Unlimited? Maybe the JBs? Maybe Stimela? The distance between the Radics and the rest is so great that the others are as if in a mist that covers the edge of the known world—the edge of the Radics’ perfect timing, the dialectic of their bass and drop, their depth and spaces, and the ultimate radiance of their brass arrangements. Dub, the highest achievement in pop music—the ghost of pop music, the idea of pop itself—would be nothing without the soul of the best of all bands.


AA Meeting Episode 3: The Song Remains So Lame

posted by on February 8 at 11:20 AM

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Attention Oscar obsessives: After years of tireless suffering in private, I finally have an outlet for the aggressive obsession I’m required to devote to each year’s Academy Awards. AA Meeting is a weekly podcast devoted to all things Oscar, from nominees’ odds to winner predictions to all the rest of that meaningless award-show bullshit I’m physically incapable of ignoring.

In the third AA Meeting: the mysterious stank pit that is the Academy Award for Best Original Song, this year featuring offerings from Dreamgirls, Disney/Pixar’s Cars, and An Inconvenient Truth.

If music be the food of love, love eats shit. Enjoy.

Music is Political

posted by on February 8 at 9:58 AM

All this talk over on the Slog about the Watada mistrial has me thinking about two things: Pootie Tang (because of dude’s name), and Lou Reed (because of the worst Lou Reed solo album ever, which, as anyone knows, is really really saying something; yes, including his first one; yes, including his last three; yes, yes, yes!).

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In the immortal words of Smog (before he was no longer “Smog”), “I feel like I’m becoming a stick in the mud. I feel like I’m becoming a Lou Reed Mistrial stick in the mud.”

For Josh Feit, obvz.


Wednesday, February 7, 2007

The Doctor Is… Far Out

posted by on February 7 at 4:56 PM

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Dr. Patrick Gleeson and Herbie Hancock, diabolically scheming to blow your mind.

Dr. Patrick Gleeson established himself in the ’70s as the go-to guy among forward-thinking jazz musicians (Herbie Hancock, Charles Earland, Julian Priester, Lenny White, Bennie Maupin, et al.) seeking far-out, eloquent analog-synth emissions. The good doctor recently put up a live (1972) version of “Hornet” (originally found on the classic Sextant LP) on his MySpace. Go to his virtual iPod there and click on that sucker. Warning: it’s NSFW (not safe for wusses). Also worth checking are Gleeson’s recent remixes of Miles Davis’ “Shh Peaceful” and “The Maids of Cadiz.”

Hotel Motel!

posted by on February 7 at 4:18 PM

Jon Cairns and THIS pretty lady, have a new night at Havana. Hotel Motel. Every Tuesday. Last night was the first, and sh*t a mile… it was hoo-ha fun. DJ CURTIS brought the jams, and everyone got drunk, drunker, and drunkest.
I heard rumors of a “key party” in the next couple of weeks… and who doesn’t love a key party? Nobody, that’s who.

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BT Express

posted by on February 7 at 4:05 PM

Image Hosted by ImageShack.us
It’s been a hot lil’ minute since the last Big Tune beat battle went down at War Room- too bad, as it’s always a rowdy good time and possibly the best peek into the local hiphop scene around. I know that host/206hop godhead Vitamin D has been busy contributing to a gang of projects, including the new Young Buck record, so the night’s absence is forgivable.

However! Tonight, Big Tunes returns, displaying the best wares of the NW’s hungriest producers, submitted for your approval(No Rod Serling. Fools have been known to lose their voice hollering, cheering and booing at BT-the crowd decides whether to pump it or dump it. Expected contestants include last installment’s champ DMello, Mass Line mobsta Sabzi and the everprolific Budo. Doors are at 9- fall thru, if just to witness your favorite local producer’s “orchestra conductor” dance moves.

Grab Your Glowsticks, Klaxons Are Coming To Seattle!

posted by on February 7 at 2:50 PM

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As reported today via Pitchfork and NME, “new-rave” wunderkinds the Klaxons are coming to Seattle on their upcoming North American tour! They’re playing the Crocodile on April 23rd, and, if you believe the hype, that shit is going to be a sold out in about a minute.

(Also, I just noticed that no less than three Line Out posts today explicitly mention “rave,” so maybe NME’s actually right about this after all.)

Name That Democrat’s Theme Song!

posted by on February 7 at 1:02 PM

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Last week in DC, the Democratic National Committee held its annual winter meeting, featuring presentations by several of the Dems’ presidential candidates, including Hillary Rodham Clinton, Barack Obama, John Edwards, Connecticut Senator Chris Dodd, and Ohio Rep. Dennis Kucinich, each of whom got to select his or her own intro/outro music. Some used the same song for both, some picked different songs for coming and going. Can you guess who picked what? Good luck, answers after the jump.

1. John Mellencamp’s “This is Our Country”

2. The Temptations’ “Get Ready (Cause Here I Come)/The Temptations’ “Reach Out”

3. Jesus Jones’ “Right Here, Right Now”/Bachman-Turner Overdrive’s “You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet”

4. “America the Beautiful”

5. “decided against using any music in keeping with the somber tone he sought to convey”

Continue reading "Name That Democrat's Theme Song!" »

Chinese Hiphop Tonight

posted by on February 7 at 1:01 PM

I tried to google the “Shanghai hip-hop sensation Huo Jie Ming” but nothing came up. Nevertheless, this seems worth the checking out:

Seattle School presents Huo Jie Ming!
Date: Tue, 6 Feb 2007 17:10:32 -0800

The venue for tomorrow has been confirmed! The command performance by Shanghai sensation Huo Jie Ming will be held at the THE GROTTO, the exclusive downstairs room at the Rendezvous Bar and Restaurant in downtown Seattle, 2322 2nd Avenue, tomorrow night, Wednesday, Feb. 7, 2007. Come anytime after 7pm, mad flow will commence at 8pm and cease shortly thereafter, though you are free, encouraged, in fact, to stick around afterwards for generalized and unstructured revelry. Plus theres absolutely no cover charge!

Warning: Because the Seattle School is behind this event, there’s a very high chance that Huo Jie Ming is an invention and the show a clever joke.

All Ages “Raves” & Icelandic Girls

posted by on February 7 at 11:18 AM

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My!Gay!Husband! and DJ Pretty Titty take Hollywood by the strip malls. Day five of their west coast tour (from Go Out and Kill Tonight):

The day after Milk was tough. We checked out late and decided we should drive down Highway 1 for at least part of the way. We went to this awesome little town called Capitola; drank some beer, had some food, walked around and then realized it was 6PM and we still had to drive to LA to play this all ages “rave” in Hollywood. We google mapped that shit and drove like a meatloaf song.

Got in at about 10, dropped off our stuff at this really cool icelandic girls house (who is not only about to marry one of the writers from the first live action show on adult swim but is also like best friends with Aimee Mann) and pulled up to Safari Sam’s.

So, this is the first club I have ever played that was located in a strip mall next to a 99 cent store. Fucking RAD! Set up our shit, played out our hearts, all while sweating under the hottest stage lights ever. There were sooooooo many kids just freaking out and dancing so hard. It really makes me wonder why the crowd in Seattle is so much older in general. Where did all the young little fuckers run to?

Kate Bush Raves On!

posted by on February 7 at 9:27 AM

Remember back inthe early ‘90’s when Utah Saints had a huge hit with the Kate Bush sampling song, Something Good? Remember that great sample from Cloudbursting? “I just know that something good is going to happen!”

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Wow, I can almost feel myself rolling on “e” again, reaching a peek when that song came on. My jaw just started gnashing at the memory.

The video can be found here. (Sorry this is the only link I coan find for this video and it starts to play automatically, so I can’t post it on Line Out!)

Well there’s a new Kate Bush sampling song out now. While I’m not sure it’s as good as Utah Saints first hit, at least it’s something “new” from the notoriously perfectionist Kate. And I’ll take that over years of silence!

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The song by Peter Black Feat. Kate Bush is called Dreamtime and uses a sample from And Dream Of Sheep from the Ninth Wave side of the album Hounds Of Love.

Oh, their breath is warm and they smell like sleep, and they say they take me home.

You can check out a sample at my blog here.


Tuesday, February 6, 2007

“Seriously, fuck Mika in the eye with a knife.”

posted by on February 6 at 5:46 PM

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Mika, recoiling earlier today from a brutal critical beatdown.

So says critic Dom Passantino—among other verbal groin-kicks—in today’s Stylus magazine.

In stark contrast to Dan’s rave here, Passantino obliterated Mika’s Life in Cartoon Motion, handing it an ego-deflating D- grade. I have no strong feelings either about this review or Mika’s music (it ain’t my bag, but it also doesn’t make me want to sever my ears), but I think Mr. Savage may have cause for a rebuttal.

Oral Sex, With Theremin

posted by on February 6 at 3:59 PM

Ye Gods! Over at Fleshbot,, (the link is, if you must know, NSFW, in part due to the video of a woman having sex with a vacuum cleaner) there’s a story about “Let My People Come,” a sex musical from the 1970s. There’s also a link to this site, which has the entire musical for your listening pleasure, divided up by song. With such classics as the theremin-powered “Come In My Mouth” and “Dirty Words,” whose lyrics include:

“Cunt!/
What an awful word is cunt!/
No word could be more blunt/
Sounds like a little runt/

Vagina!/
Is so much more refine-ah!”


I think that one of Seattle’s many lovely and adventurous theater companies needs to, er, re-mount this musical immediately.

Kylesa Recap

posted by on February 6 at 3:15 PM

At last night’s show at Chop Suey, Slave Traitor opened with some midtempo-to-slow doomy metal. The next band, Middian continued on this theme, but with a hardcore bent and more forceful screaming. Oh, and because their music was relatively slow, it gave the drummer ample time to epically raise his arms straight up over his head before sending the sticks crashing down with each beat. I like that. But midtempo-to-slow doomy metal does not excite me.

Ah, but Kylesa: their own brand of sludgy metal/punk rock was excellent. Between the two guitarists and the bassist, they had like 20 effects pedals, all put to good use. And they had two drummers! At first I thought this was a bad sign: surely this would turn into some kind of drum-circle/jam-band situation. But no—it was amazing. It made their sound so much more full and intense. They’re all talented musicians, with the bassist hammering away up and down the entire neck of his bass, the two guitarists/vocalists screaming and soloing up a storm with complex fingerwork throughout, and the two drummers playing off each other with precision. One of the guitarists/vocalists, Laura Pleasants, destroyed all with her raspy, deep voice. They played a few new songs, which were great, and they closed with “an old Pink Floyd song.” I have no idea which song.

I left after Kylesa (sorry—I was tired, hungry, antsy), but I ran into The Stranger’s own Aaron Edge on my way out, and today he had this to say about the Hidden Hand’s performance:

For being mummies (well, the drummer was younger), those guys rocked out, and played flawlessly and loud, too! I am particularly stoked that Wino used Sunn amps, as I do, too.

So there you go.

Buffy Sainte-Marie - Sweet America

posted by on February 6 at 2:39 PM

I won’t go over much of the history behind Buffy Sainte-Marie, instead I’m just going to focus on her last album of the ‘70’s, the self-produced Sweet America.

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From the start, it’s a bittersweet goodbye to her adoptive homeland, before she would eventually move back to her birthland, Canada. After years of feeling neglected by the general public and censored by American authorities of the time (Vietnam era), she gave us this album of reluctant heartbreak, finding her coming close to the popularized Native American roots music she would come to define/create in the ‘90’s and on.

Her disappointment with America, it’s politics and treatment of Native Americans, come out clearly from the beginning in the title song.

Well I think it’s time I’m leaving Oklahoma/ There’s 49 more ways to live my life/ America you showed that I don’t know you/ and I do believe your worth another try

Turning a bit more political, in America My Home Buffy betrays her infatuated crush on an abusive overbearing country/lover.

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It’s not all harsh rhetoric, though. Her voice finds wonderful, soulfull expression on tracks like, Honey Can You Hang Around where she does some crazy, sexy Pow Wow scat that gets echoed by an electric guitar near the end. It’s a great use of her unique voice and production work.

As a matter of fact, the whole of side 2 takes on a very aboriginal-rock feel, with buffy performing Pow Wow vocals on many of the songs, creating a sort of Sweet America Suite. It all comes to a head in Qu’Appelle Valley, Saskatchewan a longing song for her birthplace in the deep Canadian interior. The repeated verse goes:

Wrap me in your blanket/ Dance me around/ Take me back to where my heart belongs/ Qu’Appelle Valley, Saskatchewan.

And the Pow Wow singing follows through until the last song of the album Starwalker, a beautiful song to all her native past, present and future.

Lightning Woman Thunderchild/ Star soldiers one and all oh/ Sisters, Brothers all together/ Aim straight Stand tall/ Starwalker he’s a friend of mine/ You’ve seen him looking fine he’s a/ straight talker/ He’s a Starwalker don’t drink no wine/ ay way hey o hey…

The lyrics may seem trite, but at the time, Buffy was really the only performer talking about Native American life, culture and politics. So while they might be deemed an affectation now, I give her a break for being a real groundbreaker.

At this time in her life Buffy was working on Sesame Street teaching children about Native American culture and art. But alas, at least according to this article in Indian Country Today from last year, Buffy was not only being thwarted by the Government, her career was actively being quashed and she was being blacklisted for her anti-government beliefs.

I wish I could say this album found Buffy looking back on happier times, but it would take her nearly two decades to create an album more positive than Sweet America’s gloomy and doomed prognosis. A piece of history for sure, but, Sweet Americas beauty is still evident.

Check out Buffy’s own website here.
For samples from the album go to my blog here.

Henrik Schwarz’s DJ Kicks Worth More Than Just a Download

posted by on February 6 at 1:19 PM

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Go buy Henrik Schwarz’s volume in the Studio !K7’s DJ Kicks mix series. I’d lost interest in the series once it started to get a bit spotty after the 17th release, but this release has forced me to revisit some of the more recent volumes to see what I’ve been missing.

If I recall correctly, Dave put this mix on his top-10 from 2006, and understandably so - it’s one of the best CDs I’ve heard in years, not just one of the best mixes. Schwarz manages to genre-hop without it feeling forced, paying homage to his musical roots and pushing things forward as well. Coldcut, Rob Hood, Drexciya, and Marvin Gaye on the same mix? Not only does it happen here, it works the whole way through. Plenty of people already know about this album, but for those of you that don’t, go pick up a copy. You won’t be disappointed.

One of my personal track highlights from the mix is Henrik Schwarz’s own “Imagination Limitation,” which can be downloaded here in non-vocal form (from a longer review).

Please, someone bring Henrik Schwarz to town.

Buy Those EITS Tickets

posted by on February 6 at 12:50 PM

The show isn’t until May, but if you’re thinking of seeing Explosions in the Sky at Neumos, you’d do well to buy your ticket now. The show’s already halfway sold out.

Blackblackface?

posted by on February 6 at 12:45 PM

In my column this week I’ll be delving into the minor controversy caused by the openers at last Thursday’s Deerhoof show, Blackblack. Not to give too much away, but the band played painted all black, something a lot of people understandably interpreted as blackface. Here’s a somewhat blurry picture:

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A ton of people were at this show. What did you think? The band says they were “shadows,” and a couple of LARPers I asked thought they looked more like Drow, but damn, that is a dangerously stupid makeup choice. (Also, the band was pretty dull.)

Diamanda’s Valentine’s Day Massacre

posted by on February 6 at 11:25 AM

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Chocolates? Stuffed animals? Pink roses? Blah. My ideal gift come Feb. 14 would be getting to attend one of Diamanda Galas’ annual Valentine’s Day Massacre gigs at the Knitting Factory in NYC. Fortunately for those of us stuck in the hinterlands, recording artist and author (you did pick up 69 Love Songs: A Field Guide, yes?) LD Beghtol has a new pre-VD podcast up featuring an exclusive interview with the diva, plus selections from her recent “Guilty, Guilty, Guilty” concerts. Her bone-chilling “Autumn Leaves” must be heard to be believed.

MIA’s Bird Flu Video

posted by on February 6 at 10:54 AM

MIA’s new song has some totally kickin’ percussion, and she dances with a goat! What’s not to love?

Jon Auer Goes Far Far Away - Part 2

posted by on February 6 at 10:50 AM

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Seattle singer-songwriter, Jon Auer, from The Posies and Big Star, is heading to Australia for a February tour.

Here is the rest of our interview:

How will you choose the songs for your sets on this tour?
JON: I’m thinking about rounding up fifteen of my neighbors and making them each wear a t-shirt sporting a song title from Songs from the Year of Our Demise scrawled on the front with a chartreuse Sharpie™. Then I’ll take them to Volunteer Park and with their backs to me, randomly arrange them in a large trapezoid on one of the fields of grass. When I am satisfied with the shape, one by one, I’ll stab them in the back with a lawn dart. If all goes as planned, once I get out of jail I should have a pretty cool randomly generated set list.

How do you deal with jet lag?
Denial. Never underestimate the power of denial, my friend.

Do you know Kung fu?
Of course I do, but I also have a brown belt in Bitch Slapsan-Do, far more deadly I assure you.

Do you think you will come back with an Australian accent?
No, but I may come back with a throw rug or two.

If Yoda fought Gollum, who would win, and why?
The answer of course is Chewbacca, arguably because he has the best facial hair. And he’s like really, really tall.

Anything else you want to say?
Two things: 1) Can you get yourself to Volunteer Park and 2) What size T-shirt do you wear?

Scissor Sisters on “Passions” this week

posted by on February 6 at 10:39 AM

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In a canny bit of US promotion, Scissor Sisters are appearing on NBC’s “Passions” (the best soap opera since “Dark Shadows”) this week, on Thursday Feb. 8 and Friday Feb. 9. You can watch a snippet of their spots, which include the band performing their recent UK hit “Nobody Does It Better” - oops, I mean, “Land of a Thousand Words” - and “I Don’t Feel Like Dancing,” here. There’s also a short interview with the kids and cast members (although you have to sit through an annoying commercial before the clips load… grrr…).

“Passions” airs locally at 2 PM on Channel 5.


Monday, February 5, 2007

Available for Rent

posted by on February 5 at 4:48 PM

Looking for a shady party space?

Stranger Staffers’ *Sexy Time* Albums: The Answers to Last Week’s Quiz

posted by on February 5 at 2:59 PM

The Stranger staffer who has sex to Modest Mouse’s The Moon and Antarctica is… me. Hard to explain. Especially because Modest Mouse is not one of my favorite bands. And there’s nothing sexy about them. Except that swaggering, aggressive male thing. Which is right for one thing and one thing only. Plus, it’s pretty and noisy at the same time. And those opening notes? Always a nice segue.

What about everyone else? You probably remember last week’s Line Out post about what albums Stranger staffers have sex to. It was done as a quiz. Here, at long last, are the correct answers.

Dan Savage—The soundtrack to The Cook, the Thief, the Wife, and Her Lover.
He explains: “It’s thumping. And it builds to a climax. Duh.”

Kelly O—Love Tara, Eric’s Trip.
She explains: “I take all it back. After further research, I discovered Eric’s Trip doesn’t work anymore.”

Bradley Steinbacher—1969: Velvet Underground Live, Vol. 2.
He explains: “It starts out with an 11-minute version of ‘Ocean.’”

Mike Nipper—“I don’t play music during that time.”
(That’s the big surprise on this list.)

David Schmader—Loveless, My Bloody Valentine.
He explains: “I took the phrasing of the question literally, and named the album I’d put on when it’s time to fuck. But ‘times to fuck’ are typically only reached via pre-fuck music, and after reading a couple comments about the lack of non-honky offerings in our sex picks, I realized nearly all my favorite foreplay music is by non-honkies, including but not limited to Tricky’s Maxinquaye, the RZA soundtrack for Ghost Dog, and the collected non-gospel works of Al Green.”

Erica C. Barnett—I Can Hear the Heart Beating as One, Yo La Tengo.
(Could not be reached for comment as she’s at City Hall.)

Jen Graves—Dark Side of the Moon, Pink Floyd.
She explains: “I would like to say something in my defense, but everything I’ve thought of doesn’t really help.”

Chris McCann—Ágætis Byrjun, Sigur Ros.
(Could not be reached for comment as he’s changing his baby’s diaper—must work pretty well!)

Kim Hayden—Greatest Hits, Leonard Cohen.
She explains: “Leonard Cohen is fucking smooth, and that album reminds me of a rainy day, which is always a good day for curled-up-under-a-blanket-on-the-couch sex.”

Ari Spool—Reject All American, Bikini Kill.
She explains: “Let’s just say Bikini Kill is loud and proud. And I’m always proud of myself when I’m getting it on.”

The Third Hand’s the Charm?

posted by on February 5 at 2:35 PM

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After one listen, I thought RJD2’s new album, The Third Hand (out March 6 on XL Recordings; sample a few tracks here), was a noble yet failed experiment. Erstwhile in-demand hiphop producer sings in a fey, gray voice over some ornate art-rock/baroque-pop confections—um, yeah, interesting, and kudos for trying something new, but RJ’s not exactly playing to his strengths, I thought.

But another more thorough listen reveals some ambitious arrangements and weirdly alluring melodies—plus some nice submerged funk beats, which is one of the main things people loved about RJ’s early productions. Besides his ubiquitous MPC 2000XL sampler/sequencer, RJ plays analog synths, guitar, and electric piano here—and plays them very well.

I can imagine The Third Hand alienating some RJ fans and winning some new ones, but I have doubts about radio warming up to it. This is not a straightforward pop album, and it doesn’t really rock hard enough to lure the skinny jeans and sleeve-tattoo hordes. But if you’re into the sophisticated, skewed pop classicism of Todd Rundgren, the Left Banke, or Jon Brion, you may find RJD2’s latest album hits a bittersweet spot that rarely gets hit—especially by guys who are hyped as “the next DJ Shadow™.”

Samoan Werewolves, P. Diddy

posted by on February 5 at 2:11 PM

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The latest news (well, Saturday night) from San Francisco, courtesy of touring DJs Pretty Titty and My!Gay!Husband! Tomorrow: LA! (from Go Out And Kill Tonight):

The Milk Bar was a supernatural Samoan party where werewolves turned into women making P. Diddy requests alllllllll night. The rest of the dance floor however, was filled with one of the most awesomely diverse crowds I have ever seen. Hyphy kids, hipsters, thugs, weekend warriors, skaters, etc. all dancing and putting it on bah-last! We played the pawtry music, the kids jumped up and down, and Jason even got away with playing the phone call intro to “Make ‘Em Say Ugggghhh”.

Burial Does Woon

posted by on February 5 at 1:27 PM

The hero of our times, Burial, has released a numinous remix of Jamie Woon performing the negro spiritual “Wayfaring Stranger” (“wayfaring” means “traveling esp. on foot”).

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This is Woon:

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Woon is a folk singer with a voice that’s all soul. Seriously, listen to the original version of “Wayfaring Stranger”—what you hear from Woon is soul from throat to bone. Indeed, if you close your eyes, you’d think he came from a plantation in the deep past of the Deep South, rather than the bustling streets of South London.

As for the hella bella belly…

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…it’s taken from a faceless woman, Lipid, who very recently posted a “thanx” on Burial’s Friends Comment.

Jon Auer Goes Far Far Away - part 1

posted by on February 5 at 12:49 PM

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Seattle singer-songwriter, Jon Auer, from The Posies and Big Star, is heading to Australia for a February tour.

We did a little interview:

Tell me how the Australian tour came about.
JON: Funny story—the ghost of Michael Hutchence came to me in a particularly fitful dream one night and wouldn’t stop yammering in my left ear. He was incredibly disturbed with the whole “Rock Star: INXS” thing and kinda suggested, nay, fucking DEMANDED that I get Down Under and see what I could do about kicking some “new-lead-singer-in-INXS” ass. It wasn’t until I’d booked my ticket that I realized they all live in LA now. Oops. My bad.

What are some of the places you are playing?
It’s eleven shows in Australia, two in New Zealand. Usual suspects like Sydney, Melbourne, and Auckland are on the list, but I’ve also managed two dates in Western Australia and that’s not so common. Not to mention cities with great names like Katoomba and Cronulla as well.

It’s just you, solo, right?
Well, just me and the voices in my head. I let them do most of the talking between songs. Folks seem to dig it.

Do you know any bands or people you’ll be playing with?
Most of the shows are with Laura Imbruglia opening. Yes, she’s the younger sister of Natalie, albeit a much less precious, indie-rock type from what I can gather. I hear she works at a Heavy Metal record shop in Sydney which is top class with me as I know we’ll have plenty to discuss.

Tell me where you’ve toured so far and what the schedule has been like. You were non-stop with the Posies then you came off touring with them, right to touring your own stuff, right? Shit, dog.
Word. The Posies did about five to six months pretty much straight from the summer of 2005 until about Feb/Mar 2006. I started my US solo tour for my CD ‘Songs from the Year of Our Demise’ about two months after that and I’ve been doing shows ever since with a few Big Star and Posies shows sprinkled in the mix. I just returned from a solo tour of Europe—26 shows in 11 countries in 30 days. For a better idea of where I’ve been and where I’m going, check out Jon Auer – On the Road Again.

What songs will you be playing off your new album?
The melancholy, bittersweet ones about funerals. I guess that means all of them. “Six Feet Under” is a fave.

Justify Your Pod: The Dan Savage Edition

posted by on February 5 at 12:25 PM

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Hello Line Outters. For those who don’t already know, Justify Your Pod is the Stranger podcast featuring writers, celebrities, and other interesting folks defending the most suspicious, incriminating, and bizarre songs on their iPods.

This week’s installment finds me grilling Stranger editor, Savage Love columnist, and celebrity homosexual Dan Savage—and it’s a politically incorrrect, Maureen McGovern-scented bloodbath. Enjoy!

Tonight: Kylesa

posted by on February 5 at 11:58 AM

Don’t forget that the awesomely wonderful Kylesa are playing tonight at Chop Suey—I wrote about it last month. According to their website, their brakes went out and they had to cancel their show in Portland last night, but the brakes have been fixed and they say they’ll definitely be here tonight.

With the Hidden Hand & Wino, Middian, and Slave Traitor, 8 pm, $10 adv, 21+.

Love Today

posted by on February 5 at 11:04 AM

Because of him, the optometrist, one sees the Empyrean Isles. Gelder, the eyes of jazz.
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Kim Speaks

posted by on February 5 at 9:21 AM

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You’ve heard her graphically murdered in one song, heard her corpse being dumped in another, and perhaps even saw her blowup-doll likeness strangled on stage during the Marshall Mathers LP tour. Last Friday, Kim Mathers offered her side of the story, telling 20/20 what it’s like to be the double-ex-wife of a man who became world-famous for murdering her in effigy.

Featured as part of the 20/20 special When Love Turns to Hate, Kim was presented as “one person who says she experienced the devastating impact of a lover’s revenge”:

Mathers said she felt the most powerless in the summer of 2000, when Eminem called her a tramp in his song “Kim.” The graphic and violent lyrics, which Eminem says were never intended to be taken literally, depict him pretending to kill her. “I was humiliated…” said Mathers. “This is supposed to be a man that loves me, and is supposed to protect me …”

Soon after the song’s release, she says Eminem promised her he wouldn’t perform it at a hometown concert. “And sure enough, he decided to do that song, and not only perform the song, but use blow-up dolls to re-enact … me being choked…Just watching everybody else singing the words and laughing, jumping around … I couldn’t take it. I made it home, and I went upstairs in my bathroom and I slit my wrists and ended up in the hospital.”

For the record, both of Eminem’s wife-murdering songs are brilliant—”Just the Two of Us,” hilariously so; “Kim,” horrifyingly so—and both earn their space on earth as works of art. But I’ve always wondered what it’s like for Kim, as the most famous faux-murdered wife in history. Knowing that “Kim” literally drove her to try suicide breaks my heart, and it’s one more thing Eminem is going to have a hell of a time explaining to the daughter he’s allegedly devoted his life to protecting.

Who knows, maybe someday Kim will record a song that’ll drive Eminem to try suicide. (A cover of Ice-T’s “The Bitch Tried to Kill Me” should do it.)


Sunday, February 4, 2007

B-Boy Stance: “That’s Hip-Hop”

posted by on February 4 at 8:29 PM

This video is comic gold. The money quote: “Hip-hop is basically the struggle to bring beverages to your mouth.”

Marry Me, Prince

posted by on February 4 at 6:18 PM

And my partner, Patrick, wants you to marry him too.

Was that the best Super Bowl halftime show in history? I think it was.

Prince performed “All Along the Watchtower” (Prince as guitar god? and yet there was not a cringeworthy moment), fake white birds flew around his head, it was raining warm Miami rain (yes, he did do “Purple Rain”), he turned his symbol guitar into a snarling penis shadow puppet, and he wore orange, turquoise, and a housewife’s headrag.

Granted, this is not a vaunted category. Or is there some Super Bowl halftime show golden era I don’t know about? Football didn’t deserve this. It was a performance for kings.

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“When times go bad, when times go rough, won’t you lay me down in the tall grass and let me do my stuff?”

posted by on February 4 at 4:25 PM

Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours was released upon the world 30 years ago today and would go on to become the third-highest selling album in recording history, according to the Recording Industry Association of America—so says Rumours’s extensive Wikipedia page. The album was famously recorded while everyone in the band was divorcing each other. “Two chicks, two guys, breaking up, writing songs to one another” is how Lindsey Buckingham describes it on this Blender list of “33 Things You Should Know About Fleetwood Mac,” which includes…

The band spent 18 hours a day in the studio but didn’t speak. “Making Rumours was an exercise in denial,” Buckingham says. “Trying to get the music done, minimizing the distress of having to produce songs for Stevie when I didn’t even want to see her.”

And…

Drugs made recording Rumours a rather painstaking process. For instance: The band required four days, nine pianos, and three tuners to find Christine McVie a keyboard that “sounded right.” They enlisted the help of a blind man and someone known only as the “Looner Tuner.” “We felt that the piano was not holding tune,” Fleetwood says. “Whether the piano was wrong, or whether we had lost our marbles— ” Buckingham cuts in: “That’s what it was.”

There have been times when I’ve felt like I’ve lost my marbles—or, to lift a phrase out of Moby Dick, when I’ve felt a damp, drizzly November in my soul—and I’ve put on Rumours and felt a hell of a lot better. The day I moved into my current apartment, for example. Incredibly sad, even though it was such a better place than the place I’d been living. Hardwood floors for days. Awesome radiators. Staggering views. This was about two years ago. I had no furniture at all except for a couch and a lamp. Plus, sitting on my floor were my laptop and some speakers. I plugged the speakers into the laptop and the first thing I listened to—I don’t know why, because I’m not a Fleetwood Mac diehard—was “Dreams.” And when it ended I put on “I Don’t Wanna Know.” The sun was going down and I was crying. Who knows why.

Anyway. If there’s one album you should listen to today, it’s Rumours. Pay your respects. You undoubtedly have a copy of it sitting around. Everyone does. I recently bought a copy on vinyl and one of those album frames and hung the thing on my wall. It’s relaxing to look at. Now Mick Fleetwood’s balls are the first thing I see when I wake up in the morning…

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Sauce Stains All Over

posted by on February 4 at 12:03 PM

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The further adventures of My!Gay!Husband! and Pretty Titty: fat, bald Italian daydreams, free sushi, and the cold, hard capitalism of the black dildo black market. From Go Out And Kill Tonight:

Whooooooooooo hoooooooooo! This “tour” thing is like relaxation therapy. Being a dj instead of a band is pretty awesome. No gear to unload, no sound checking; just show up at 11ish and get blasted as fast as you can before you play.

Friday we had the day off and just chillllllllllllllllllllllllllled the fuck out. Woke up late, drove to Berkeley to shop at Amoeba, had some noodles, walked around. We then went to Coit Tower, hung out in North Beach eating up all the pizza, drankin’ espresso and daydreaming about how badass it would be if we were old, retired italian bastards living in one of the most beautiful Italian neighborhoods in the world. But, due to Jason’s blue blooded English lineage, I’m the only one who has a chance at living the dream of being a fat bald italian with sauce stains all over my shirt. Around this time, we got a call from the dude who booked us for Milk, inviting us to come out for a sushi dinner on him; which is probably the nicest thing a booker has ever done. We seriously ate and drank an ungodly amount and the bill was probably close to a million dollars.

After that we decided staying at the hotel for the night might be a good idea. We bought some booze, watched “Club Paradise” (Harold Ramis’ masterwork) and fell gently to sleep.

We woke up this morning and fed the pigeons at Golden Gate Park.

And finally, went to Haight Ashbury, where some homeless dude tried to sell us a “cigarette holder” which was actually a giant dildo.

Which is really ironic, because I just mail ordered a giant dildo that looks like a cigarette holder. I learned a valuable lesson about my impulsive shopping problem today. Thank you homeless dildo man.

Come see us tonight while we play the world famous Milk Bar w/ LL Cool DJ and Swayzee. This time I promise more party pics and less boring tourist photos.

After tonight, we take highway 1 to LA to play Le Disko.

Best Inadvertent Commentary on the State of Music in 2007

posted by on February 4 at 10:27 AM

Yesterday I was browsing through Rough Trade with my friend S., a music supervisor for a boutique ad agency.

I came across some hyped-up new British band and handed over the CD for her opinion. “Oh, they’re great,” she said. “But don’t waste your time.”