By Ross Simonini

It was adorable. First there was an argument between this little eight-year-old mop-headed boy named Elijah and John Roderick (The Long Winters singer) about who would host the evening. Elijah said, “I know who you are. I happen to be very up on my indie rock stars,” and Roderick said, “I am the right person to host this event, not you.”

Then Rosie Thomas came out and offered to massage the audience’s buttocks. She talked in a little squeaky voice about cute things, like how she just got a facial (“Is it supposed to feel this stingy?”) and sang in a really, low rich voice about sad things. She did a slowed-down sweetened Windham Hill style version of REM’s “The One I Love.”

Roderick came out and said, “As an M.C. I’m from the no-preparation school.” He asked the lighting guy to sex up the room, but no dice, nothing happened. He showed everyone his missing tooth--right in the front, very noticeable--and then played the first song he’s ever played without a tooth, so he said. He faked a lisp. He complained about how Gibson guitars (a sponsor) don't include strap buttons on their loaner acoustic guitars and how he had to play in the “ye olde” style of holding the guitar while he played.

Then he introduced Sasha Frere-Jones, the New Yorker’s newly controversial pop critic, saying, “For years I read his column thinking he was an African American woman.” But Frere-Jones said zilch about music all night. He said, “I write for a magazine called the New Yorker, but tonight we’re going to be focusing on other writers,” and then two little kids came out and read stories and he interviewed them. It was like a hip version of "Kids Say the Darndest Things."

A seven-year-old girl named Ameera read a story that went, “The next day we skipped. The next day we skipped. The next day we skipped,” and Frere-Jones asked her questions about it--“So why do you think your friend wanted to stop skipping?”

A boy named Issiah read a story called “Food Dude” that went, “I’m the one who mourns when a buffet restaurant closes.” Food Dude’s arch nemesis is Paris Hilton, who sticks her finger down her throat and vomits moldy corn on the cobs and chewed up hot dogs in a defensive maneuver.

Euguene Mirman bounded out. “Somebody moved the fucking kids,” he said. “I was gonna come out her and talk about boners.” His topics included Russians, Bill Cosby, Meth Awareness Month, and Classmates.com. “We’re all one hippy collective,” he said. “Trying to save a generation of kids.” He left the stage, announcing, “My cat can rape people. It’s really cool.”

Dave Eggers laid out the whole 826 deal--a non-profit free tutoring center for kids up to 18 years old--emphasizing that they “STILL NEED MORE TUTORS.” He read three stories from his collection How the Water Feels to the Fishes. There was “Old Enough” about wanting to be elderly so he could do crazy things, like “kick dogs, even if softly.” There was “We Can Work It Out” about Yosemite Bears who don’t like E.M. Forester. There was “The New Rules” which said if you don’t read 10 books a year you might get “disemboweled by bears.”

He apologized for wearing a t-shirt and jeans, explaining that he had dressed in the dark and, consequently, put on a sweater with a hole in the elbow. “A t-shirt is better than a sweater with a hole in it,” he said.

Geologic of Blue Scholars took the stage solo, sans DJ Sabzi, and played his songs acappella. He said that Sabzi usually covers up his words. "Most of the time," he said, "I could be saying anything up here…This is a chance for those who are familiar with us to focus on the words.”

He went through a spoken-word, slam-poetic version of “Inkwell.” His wife called in the middle and he looked at his cell phone and smiled. He did “Morning of America,” a song about the '80s--“VH1 never played hip-hop at all”--and then one called “Joe Metro,” about Seattle’s public transportation, including the light rail, which he criticized for displacing people in southern Seattle (especially the ones living along MLK.).

Then there was the hugging part--this happened last year, too--where people donate money and get hugs for it. Roderick and Mirman auctioned off $20 hugs from Dave Eggers and Sasha Frere-Jones (“They cost $30 in New York,” Frere-Jones said). They wheeled out a mechanical El Vez (the real one?) on a dolly in a tiger-print skin-tight outfit, and he gave some hugs, too.

Todd Barry came out and talked a lot about how he’d performed at Carnegie Hall the night before, how playing Town Hall was, comparatively, “a huge fucking letdown,” and “how (he’d) done four events for 826 and still (has) no idea what they do.” All in the art of comedy, of course.

Everything ended with Rosie Thomas and John Roderick playing requests from the audience: "Thriller," "Freebird," "Stairway to Heaven," etc. They admitted that they didn’t have any idea how to play the songs and sang purposefully out of tune and did a funky version of the "Charles in Charge" theme song. Then the whole crowd sang the first verse of "Silent Night," gospel-style, where everyone stomped feet and clapped hands. It was adorable.

From Stranger Suggests:

Minus the Bear
(Music) This year has been good to Seattle's Minus the Bear. Since Planet of Ice was released in August, the band has played over 50 shows in as many cities and was tagged "buzzworthy" by MTV. For once, MTV got it right. MtB's new album is an exquisite composition with technical, intricate guitar parts and vivid dynamics that ebb and flow between melodic indie sounds and droning stoner rock. See them while you can—they're disappearing to Europe for the remainder of the year. (Showbox at the Market, 1426 First Ave, 628-3151. 8 pm, $16 adv/$18 DOS, all ages.) MEGAN SELING

From U&Cs:

Annuals, Manchester Orchestra, the New Frontiers
(Crocodile) Like sex and scuba diving, any psychedelic voyage is best undertaken with a partner. Twenty-one-year-old Adam Baker is the sole songwriting force behind Annuals, but he's recruited a band of longtime friends to mediate any mad-professor tendencies. Last year's acclaimed Be He Me is a monumental mind trip of an album, conceived from Baker's self-contained death-is-after-me paranoia but wrought by a studio-savvy six-piece band. Drifting on waves of slow-trotting rural balladry, breezy Beach Boy–ish pop, prog-rock bombast, and heat-warped tropicalia, the album—and Annuals in general—have the power to transport. JONATHAN ZWICKEL

Scout Niblett, MV & EE
(Sunset) MV & EE stands for Matt Valentine and Erika Elder, a couple of in-love hippie types from the Massachusetts boondocks who like to musically reminisce about the blues-rock of the late great 1960s. Their days in the free-folk collective the Tower Recordings connected them with a slew of musical collaborators, including J Mascis (who's playing drums on everyone's albums these days), John Moloney from Sunburned Hand of the Man, and Thurston Moore, whose Ecstatic Peace label releases the duo's prolific ramblings. Their sound is a big stoned party of slapped-together blues chords, noodly 1970s rock guitars, and mumbled songwriting, but when they hit it right on, it's like a good flashback. ROSS SIMONINI

From Bug in the Bassbin by Donte Parks:

I nearly peed my pants when I heard that Kevin Saunderson was coming to town. Sure, I'm a bit obsessed with Detroit techno, but Kevin Saunderson isn't just another Detroit techno artist. As one of the Belleville Three (along with Juan Atkins and Derrick May), Saunderson is one of the creators of techno, twisting the futurism of Kraftwerk, the instrumentation of new wave and Chicago house, and the musical legacy of Detroit into the genre that's grown into what you (should) know and love today. He's not just a producer or DJ; he's a legend. The thought of interviewing him was absolutely terrifying.

Kevin Saunderson plays Krakt at Rebar (1114 Howell St, 233-9873) on Sat Nov 10, 10 pm, $10 adv/$15 DOS, 21+. With Travis Baron and Kristina Childs.

While many of you were busy commenting up a storm this afternoon, Radiohead was being their sneaky selves and filming a live webcast, which I missed also. I tried in vain to update the intern iMac's video-streaming technology in time to catch "Thumbs Down", the two-and-then-some hours (!!!!!) of assorted footage, but no luck.

Pitchfork has a play-by-play. I'm still watching it, but they cover The Smiths and New Order, spin M.I.A. and Bonnie Prince Billy, and don helmets-with-cameras for "Jigsaw Falling Into Place".

Then there's this, probably the most hilarious they've ever been:

And this, as if the song itself wasn't stunning enough:

Find it, watch it.

To all those who made yesterday's Blake Lewis post the #1 commented on post in, like, forever! (62 and counting!!!)

Wow! Those are some great comments.

"watch yourself young one."

"I would like very much to crack that person's chest cavity open and take a huge steaming taco plop in their lungs."

"this is all jay-z's fault (this is true)"

"I don't even think Ari would argue that she's a bitch."

"ya'all are bitches."

"Alrighty then gang. Good rap session, right? Just remember that I can't help you if you don't help me to help you."

It is definitely a must read! This totally made my day.

There's a lot of bullshit being thrown around after yesterday's Blake Lewis album cover post, a very hilarious observation was just made by Mr. Larry Mizell.

Blake looks like Robin Williams.

Take a few years off Williams, add a little facial hair, maybe some brown contacts... I totally see it.

After fleeing her late-'80s synth-pop group Y Kant Tori Read, Tori Amos kicked off her solo career in 1991 with "Me and a Gun," the a capella track dealing with her survival of a rape at knifepoint.

Since then, Amos has become the crazy star at the center of her own crazy universe, and I hardly follow her shenanigans anymore. But as the Tori-loving Pink is the New Blog reports, Ms. Amos is spicing up her new tour by performing her hallowed rape anthem with a full band, in the character of her American Doll Posse alter-ego Pip, and employing disturbing props. (See photo above, shot by Bullocks Troy.)

And to see video of Tori—uh, Pip—performing the full-band, propped-up "M&AG" live in Chicago, go here.

1) One of the fathers of techno, Kevin Saunderson, plays Krakt at Rebar tomorrow. But you already knew that.

2) Here's a link to a great techno mix: DJ Catweasel - Live at OODE VIII

3) Archives from this year's DEMF are finally being streamed from the festival site.

So, let me start by saying, I'm not dumb. I know enough about Johnny Thunders to get me through a conversation about The Dolls and Heartbreakers etc....

But I'm obsessed with this song right now and I can hardly find any information about it at all!

The track is by a european disco group called Skyline. It's off a self-titled album from 1978. Incredibly, it sounds like something The Rapture might be putting out now. It's so contemporary feeling, that I was blown away when I discovered its date.

Here's the track: (forgive the flange, it's from a DJ set)

Skyline - I Think I'm Gonna Fall In Love

Here's the thing. The group's guitarist is none other than Johnny Thunders. But I can't find any mention about this project on any Thunders related website or wiki.

Are there any Thunders fans out there who can shed some light on this track.

Following in the wake of Oink, down goes popular torrent tracker Demonoid. The same post mentions Pirate Bay is going to find some problems as well. This truly was a golden age for file sharing, and it's sad to see it come to an end (although I have no doubts that replacements will pop up).

On Demonoid now:

"The CRIA threatened the company renting the servers to us, and because of this it is not possible to keep the site online. Sorry for the inconvenience and thanks for your understanding."

...especially in NYC.

This is the post script from an email sent to me by an acquaintance:

P.S. My friends Xxxx and Xxxxx (names withheld - T.M.) are riding the kindergarten admissions merry-go-round in New York. They recently attended a school orientation with four other couples -- one of which was Matthew Barney and Bjork. According to Dave, Bjork was wearing "metallic leather pants, and a kind of red tent-like thing that I can only describe as a clown suit." She never opened her mouth, because she didn't have to -- she had everyone's attention anyway.

Last week it was Porter Wagoner. Wednesday it was Hank Thompson, dead at 82 of lung cancer. Hank Thompson! Just in the last five years we’ve lost Waylon Jennings (2002); Floyd Tillman, Johnny Paycheck, June Carter, and Johnny Cash (2003); Jimmy Martin (2005); and my beloved Buck Owens (2006).

Last night my sister broke the news, and KEXP played several songs by Thompson and his Brazos Valley Boys. I used to listen to Thompson a lot, but not so much in the past few years; hearing him on the radio reminded me of just how much I like his brand of honky-tonk melded with western swing, with hits like 1946’s "Whoa Sailor" (later expertly covered by the Maddox Bros. and Rose), “Cocaine Blues,” “Total Stranger,” “Six Pack to Go,” his cover of Ernest Tubb’s “Driving Nails in My Coffin,” and 1952’s “The Wild Side of Life” (expertly countered later that year by Kitty Wells's “It Wasn’t God Who Made Honky-Tonk Angels”).

Thompson’s death is certainly a big loss to country music.

Here’s “Whoa Sailor”:

The Season of Giving: Sufjan announces "The Great Sufjan Song Xmas Xchange"

Latin Grammy Awards: Juan Louis Guerra takes five.

Radiohead... Something... Soon?: Webcast, test webcast, and other mysterious internet activity.

Raid on the Winehouse: Amy's husband arrested.

Prince vs. The Fans: The battle wages on.

Viking Masters: The New York Times investigates Norwegian death metal.

Even your friends can give you viruses: Alicia Keys' Myspace spreads Trojan Horse

Taking pictures also always gets you to the front. That's a trick you learn as a short girl.

Here's some pictures I took at two shows last night!
First:
PWRFL Power at Pony

Look ma, no head!

Second:
Mr. Divisadero at the Comet

Stefan Rubicz of the Pharmacy and Trent Coahran of Tv Coahran, just chillin' before the Pharmacy's set (which I didn't take any pix of 'cuz I was drunk and headbanging).

I know I'm not the world's greatest photographer, but that isn't stopping me from adding these to The Stranger's Flickr Pool!

So I got an e-mail from someone about my election night coverage, wherein I was consulting the lyrics of Jay-Z's freshly-released American Gangster album, which I referred to as 'genius.' Here's the relevant passage from that e-mail:

The inclusion of Jay-z lyrics was an inspired touch. However, 2 points: 1) American Gangster is a terrible album. If you were being facetious, please disregard. 2) You need to have words with your ipod, or whatever. It neglected to cough up what could have been the most pertinent line relating to that fateful Tuesday night:

Bunch of used to's, has been's bragging bad 'bout all the new dudes Talking tough on the YouTube bout what you used to do But that's old school to the new crew They're doing numbers like Sudoku

off of Fallin', one of the 2 listenable tracks on the album.

That is all.

I responded that I loved American Gangster's lyrics. I thought the first three songs on AG were really slow and uninspired, but that the album, as a whole, works really well. I did admit that I didn't think it was genius (I hyperbolize more than literally any other human being on the face of the earth), but I thought that the election day release date was, perhaps, unintentional genius. I think that I might have to make listening to American Gangster an election day tradition, in fact, to go along with my other election day traditions of eating at Catfish Corner and getting stumbling-drunk while posting results on Slog.

Anyway, from there, he and I sent a couple e-mails back and forth (he thought that Jay-Z's delivery was tired and that he sounded bored, I said that I thought he sounded like he was having more fun than he'd had in years, and blah blah blah,) but it really seems to highlight the reaction to American Gangster.
The critics love it, but most of the commenters on most of the blog posts I've seen about the album hate it. It's interesting, I think, because Jay-Z is really the leading face of aging hip-hop superstardom, and unlike rock's embarrassing tendency to embrace old age (maybe even as a direct response to it,) mainstream hip-hop culture is having none of this middle-aged rap stuff. I think we can all agree, though, that Kingdom Come was disappointing.

I couldn't find an official video for Loverboy's "Working for the Weekend" so this nearly torturous live performance will have to suffice.

Update: Commenter Left Coast found the official video (apparently it wasn't hard, I'm just blind):

I really can't stand the chorus of this song. I mean, it's no "Built This City" (which, by the way, was co-written by Bernie Taupin?? I never knew! How'd you go from "Levon" and "Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters" to that, dude??), but it's still pretty bad.

When I had a car, when I had easy access to a radio, I would hear that song at least once a week while station surfing, usually on a Friday. While it should bring happiness, since it's usually used as a late-Friday afternoon anthem, it really just makes me wanna scream "SHUT UP! NO ONE IS WORKING FOR THE WEEKEND AND NO ONE WANTS A PIECE OF YOUR HEART!"

I've been working on my rage issues.

Anyway. That song is a waste of good cowbell.

Happy Friday!

(And to Left Coast, you're so wrong about this song being better than the Pixies' "Alec Eiffel.")

Hey underage bands, you have less than one week to get your shit together and enter EMP's Sound Off!

Applications—which can be downloaded at empsfm.org—and a non-returnable CD with original music must be mailed to: EMP|SFM, Attn: Sound Off!, 330 6th Avenue North, Suite 200, Seattle, WA 98109 by Thursday, Nov. 15, 2007 for entry into the 2008 Sound Off! competition. All participants must be 21 years of age or under as of March 1, 2008.

Twelve semi-finalists will be chosen to perform live on either Feb. 9, 16 or 23. The bands will be narrowed down to three for a live performance in the Sky Church at EMP|SFM on Saturday, March 1, 2008 at 8 p.m. Sound Off! is sponsored by, IKEA, Shure—“The Official Microphone of EMP|SFM,” 107.7 The End, 90.3 KEXP, Bumbershoot and Gibson. The first-place band will perform at Bumbershoot.

Go to www.empsfm.org for all the rules and more information.

Past finalists include the Schoolyard Heroes, Natalie Portman's Shaved Head, Mon Frere, the Lonely Forest, the Lonely H, Idiot Pilot, Gruff Mummies, and more.

Somehow, the subject of hardcore dancing came up in conversation yesterday, perhaps because I was talking to our resident straight-edge/hardcore art director, Aaron Edge. I mentioned "Pickin' Up Change," and he was impressed. I mentioned this video for Sick of It All's "Step Down," and he was stumped.

My hardcore friends in high school hated the band, called them "Stuck Up Is All." I never understood the politics--my friends were DRI fans (aha! that's how Edge and I started talking about hardcore: there's a piece of art in next week's ish that resembles the DRI logo) who for reasons I don't remember had a beef with the Sick of It All fans from another school. What I do remember is this video from a few years later, which spelled out a lot of the hardcore dance moves of the early '90s.

They made fun of emo kids even back in '94!

Sick of It All missed "Grabbin' the Golf Tee," a goofy variation on "Pickin' Up Change" that came from the Lookout! Records scene.

Hardcore: Still funny after all these years.

Broken Disco: NAHA, Jerry Abstract, Truckasauras, FCS North, DJ Levi Clark, Kristina Childs, Kadeejah Streets, Plan B, DJ Same DNA
(Chop Suey) After last month's killer Modeselektor show, Broken Disco is taking this month to focus on all local talent, and Seattle has plenty to spare. What may be surprising for an electronic dance night is how much of that talent will be playing live. In the 21+ makeout lounge, Plan B delivers a live set of hiphop instrumentals and sepia-toned sampledelia. In the 18+ room, FCS North groove on live bass, drums, synths, and guitar; Truckasauras wrestle booming beats and surprisingly deep melodies out of their array of '80s machinery; and Jerry Abstract plays a live laptop set. With DJ support from Levi Clark, Kadeejah Streets, Same DNA, and headlining sets from Kristina Childs and NAHA. ERIC GRANDY

Gust Burns/Jeffrey Allport Duo
(Gallery 1412) A frequent traveler to these climes, British Columbian percussionist Jeffrey Allport micromanages his rhythmic and tonal gestures with a penetrating focus, as evinced in his rad showings earlier this year as one of the participants in the Seattle Improvised Music Festival. Allport is here presented again in concert with local pianist Gust Burns, whose playing is possessed of both a feverous technical diligence and a cumbrous emotional intelligence. In the world of modern free improvisation, which is often paradoxically traditionalized, it is musicians such as these who maintain the music's potentially boundless vitality and progressive energy. SAM MICKENS

JJ Grey and Mofro, Dusty Rhodes
(Neumo's) Sweaty, swampy, low-down, and funky: JJ Grey and Mofro are everything Florida used to be, before the onslaught of AC and luxury high-rises and four-wheel drives that never leave the pavement. That Florida—old Florida—exists only in legend now, and in song, and Grey is one of the last homegrown troubadours to sing of its heyday and its demise. Rooted in Southern rock and Stax/Muscle Shoals soul, deepened by the glorious slide guitar of longtime musical foil Daryl Hance, Grey's songs are relevant to anyone who's ever cursed a condo. Their April show in Seattle was a scorcher; we could always use a little Florida heat wave. JONATHAN ZWICKEL

Young Fresh Fellows, the Tripwires
(Tractor) If you've ever wanted to test the theory that well-crafted pop music is contagiously fun, tonight's the night. After four years, the Tripwires—a local supergroup consisting of John Ramberg, Jim Sangster, Johnny Sangster, and Mark Pickerel—are celebrating the release of their fine debut album with a release party that also features a rare show by local pop superheroes the Young Fresh Fellows. To list the Tripwires' combined pedigree would take this entire page (and if you don't recognize the names, you should be ashamed of yourself) but one listen to "Makes You Look Around" and you'll be instantly smitten with their instantly infectious, '60s inspired guitar pop. And if you can manage not to crack a grin during a Fellows show, you should seek help. BARBARA MITCHELL

Black Dice, Calvin Johnson
(Vera Project) With Load Blown, their latest album (and their first for Animal Collective's Paw Tracks label), Black Dice have comfortably grown into their third phase. What began as audience-assaulting thrash and dissolved into bad-acid drones has now emerged as a kind of malfunctioning tribal groove machine. "Kokomo" churns blown bass, coughing car exhaust, and stolen chants into a loping rhythm. "Roll Up" and "Scavenger" melt steel drums and warp tropical guitar loops; the former swarms with mosquito treble, while the latter makes thunder from wobbled aluminum sheets. On "Drool," the band summon bird chirps and cicada hum from their effect-pedal circuits. There are still noisy moments, but this is, by far, the most relaxed, easy-listening Black Dice to date. ERIC GRANDY

Felix Haaksman recently released a new 12" single under his known alias, Dutch Rhythm Combo, titled Bonaire. The single was released as a series of two 12-inches and one 7-inch consisting of numerous remixes. Some of the people doing the remix treatment consists of Blackjoy, Al Usher, Maximilian Skiba, and Soul Village, a nice solid collection of producers to say the least. The mix that touched me the most was Maximilian Skiba's, taking the laid back original, and turing it into a funky nu-disco boogie. The other mixes aren't anything to sleep on as well, each one taking the shape of each remixer. A solid new effort from this upcoming German producer.

Dutch Rhythm Combo - Bonaire (Maximilian Skiba Remix)

Strangely, this is the second time this album and its cover has come up in two days. Man, it's awful. Doesn't it look like Common's hair is all conked out? It took me a while before I recognized his locks as a hoodie.

Idolator enters Lewis in the running for Worst Album Cover of the Year (sadly, there's no text message voting in that competition), commenters let loose the snarks.

"Blake Lewis Breaks Anotha Copy of Photoshop" - Idolator

...we're handing out to the 826 event tonight. I wonder if anyone will confront SF-J about his ass-hattery cultural criticism of Indie Rock (too white. HA HA HA) and Stephen Merritt (you know, he's, like, a total racist) and taking The Gorillaz too seriously (seriously!).

Too bad it's gonna be christian praise musician Ben Gibbard on stage with him instead of Win Butler of Arcade Fire.

I can only imagine the breathlessness with which these back slapping self-loving indie hipsters (Stevens, Eggers, et al.) will read his work. Thank goodness Geologic will be there so it will be "just black enough".

And would someone please ask Eggers why there is only one woman (Rosie Thomas) booked for this event. If I were SF-J...I'd complain.

Coconut Coolouts recently went out for a short tour and kept a diary of their adventures to share with us when they got home. Here it is, in all its barfing on walls, hanging out in tiki bars, fast-food gorging glory. Coconut Coolouts play Pony tonight with Partman Parthorse and PWRFL Power.

Day One:
The first show was at the Funhouse in Seattle with Tyvek and Nice Smile.

Nothing super exciting happened until after the show when we all came back to Lacey and Ruben's and drank more beer, ordered a pizza, and made each other pass out by choking each other like teenagers.

Day Two:
We went downtown to pick up Ross on our way to Portland. We pulled up next to him on the street and he immediately turned around and began gazing into an empty storefront without noticing that we were there. When he finally saw us he said, "Should I load my instrument in the rear?" and we laughed and laughed. We head out down I-5 and made out first stop--the Red Lobster in Federal Way for all you can eat everything. I mean, what the hell, right? Let's celebrate in style! We arrived in Portland to find that Dunes was not open yet so we headed down the street to Jiggles Hot Java to kill some time until we could finally get into the club. At 8 pm we were allowed into the Dunes and were told to leave our shit in the van until time to play because the place was so small.

Shortly after this it dawns on me that Popeye's is just down the street so Lacey heads over for a biscuit and some red beans and rice. Back at the Dunes everyone was still sitting around until 11pm when Nice Smile finally decided to play, after fruitlessly trying to tune the Bugs' drum. We play next and we're doing a pretty good job but everyone's spirits are crushed by a dude yelling about how the Bugs should play. Lacey, somewhat in amazement, ends up selling this guy a CD after we play and find out that he thought we were the Bugs--yeah! Spirits back up.

After we played we all went over to the dojo next door and took photos of Ian, Ross, and Pete pulling out some questionable wrestling moves on each other. No one got hurt but it looked totally real. After we loaded up we all went back to JJ's to crash. Ruben ended this night just like last time we were on tour--on mushrooms, playing drums, and barfing on the wall at dawn.

Day Three:
We get up far too early the next morning (considering Ruben's post-psychedelic haze and our general disinterest in being conscious) to drive to Davis. Bagel sandwiches for breakfast, a brush-off of the Tyveks' attempts at riding in our far more comfortable van and we're on our way. Driving sucks. Lunch was Dairy Queen, Taco Bell, Subway and Del Taco. This is when the Amazing Barnanas' (Ian's) hind quarters start to go completely haywire. We manage to make our only Lacey-requested rest stop at a porta-potty outside of a shack in the mountains in central Oregon. Ian manages to take a dump in the porta-potty before Lacey can get inside. Pete thinks it's fine, arguing that "once it hits the blue stuff it evaporates." Lacey disagrees.

After a lot more driving and somehow making a wrong turn on I-5 we finally manage to find our way to Davis. Davis seems tranquil, with a hint of girls-gone-wild edge. We note our approval of this by rolling down the van windows and playing DJ Assault as loud as we can as we make our way past campus. After eating a bag of jellybeans, Dr. Nuckinfutz (Ross) compulsively screams "Yo Quiero Blow Jobs" out the window. We find our way to the club, a house turned into restaurant/venue called Delta of Venus. Parking is nice as it allows us to have a serious conversation--with the giant jug of Early Times that'd been waiting for us in the back of the van. The venue is packed already as Tyvek is huge in Davis and we're also playing with local favorites the Bananas. We play first. We are really, really good. Then some other stuff happens that I don't quite remember. The other bands are real good too, but I may have been drunk.

(Keep reading, there's more involving unicorns getting arrested, pineapples dressing like people, and Teen Wolf.)

Continue reading "Coconut Coolouts Convoy" »

_{Illo by James Yamasaki}

So yeah, I love Billy Joel.

Actually, I used to love Billy Joel. Now I cherish his music like a first kiss--an awkward memory that I'm happy to own, glad I got past, and hardly ever trot out anymore. There's a reason that his peers--most significantly Springsteen--bask in continued critical praise and constantly refreshed fan adoration, which I get into in the story.

Megan quoted the piece's main point in her post below, but here's the part that most interested me:

Talking to friends and colleagues about this story, I learned that many people my age had an early period of Joel appreciation (surprising), though nobody's rocking Glass Houses on their iTunes (not surprising).

It's true. Several people--people you know, people who write for The Stranger about far, far different types of music than Billy Joel--had a thing for him way back when. Since writing the piece and talking about it further, more former fans have come out of the woodwork. But everyone agrees: They're not listening to his music on an even semi-regular basis. The people I know who do are musically, um, unsophisticated, to put it nicely.

I look back at those songs, like the one this post takes its title from, and I love them, but only in a kitschy, nostalgic way. They're teriffic songs, but they work better as artifacts than art. At one point in my life, he was an obsession. Then I grew out of Billy Joel.

Something I didn't get into in the story: How much of my generation's broken love affair with the guy has to do with Christie Brinkley? Joel was this hound dog-eyed goofball singing about Italian restaurants, as suburbanly awkward as anybody, and then he married the most beautiful woman in the world. He was slingshotted into idolization for that reason as much as his rock star status. Then she dropped him and he was just a regular schmuck all over again. Pretty disillusioning. But all Joel ever wanted from his music was to bag him a supermodel, so he succeeded on that front. His return to realness had just as much potential to lock in some cred as to cast him as a loser, but it didn't work out that way.

Dear Friends,

After 10 years of making music as The Blood Brothers, we have made the collective decision that our time together has come to an end. We feel extremely fortunate to have spent such a deeply memorable and amazing part of our lives with each other. At this point, however, we feel it's best that our futures move forward on separate paths. We'd like to express our sincerest thanks and gratitude to all the bands we've played with, individuals who have helped us make our records, and fans who have come to our shows and picked up our music throughout the years. Your friendship, support and love hold such a profoundly special place in each of our hearts. We hope that the memories you attach to our music are as fond as those you have given us. Thank you and take care, we'll miss all of you.

Love,
The Blood Brothers

Let it Bleed.

Kevin Suggs is one of KEXP’s main audio engineers. He’s on Lineout today to talk about running sound for a band that’s playing live on the radio. Over the years, KEXP has amassed a mammoth and impressive archive of live in-studio performances. Suggs has engineered many of those sessions. He permeates a guru like calm that puts musicians at ease when the red light comes on.

When bands show up to play live on KEXP, they have one hour to set up and dial in their sound. Nerves get jumpy and heated. It’s live radio and the stakes are high. You’re live in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1... You’re glad Kevin is on the other side of the glass.

Our room at KEXP is small enough that everything pretty much bleeds into everything else. There is no isolation for amps. This really affects the way I need to mix. The first thing I do when starting to get sounds is push up the vocal mics and leave them up. It makes little sense to work on the drum sounds without the vocal mics up because they will drastically change everything. I basically start with the vocals and build the mix around them. Also, any crazy vocal effects you use are going to be on just about everything else in the mix as well. Small reverbs and short delays work the best. It may seem like I have little control but I find this environment very pleasant to work in. For one, I don’t have to worry about feedback which can be a problem when wedges are used. Plus, bleed isn’t really a bad thing as long as it is pleasant bleed. I’m not fighting with the room sound like is the case at most larger venues. The fast pace also keeps people focused and the energy level high.

I always try to contact the bands ahead of time to get an idea of what the set up will look like. The band shows up an hour before airtime. I know this doesn’t seem like much time but I have found it to be plenty. We have one headphone mix available for the band. We can get up to two mixes but this is where the “keep it simple” idea really comes in handy. I find if I tell the group there is only one mix they are more apt to be happy with the mix much quicker. Most bands end up saying it’s the best they’ve ever heard themselves. I put vocals and any instrument that is going direct (i.e., keyboards, or bass without an amp) into the mix for them. Other things such as drums and guitar amps are going to bleed into the vocal mics enough that they rarely need to be in the cans.

Doing live mixes for radio broadcast combines the thrill of a live show with the control that a studio setting allows. My mantra for doing these sessions is always “keep it simple”. With an audience of several thousand for any given performance I do all I can to avoid technical difficulties.

Usually the most challenging part of the on air performance is the interview section, where the DJ has a chat with the band. You might have a lead singer who belts out his vocals so loud that you need to pot your mic pres way down to keep them from clipping. Then of course when he is asked a question he mumbles softly or even worse stands nowhere near the mic. At that point I’m pushing faders all the way up and cracking open mic pres to make them audible. Once the band goes into the next song I have to get all that stuff back to where it needs to be in a hurry.

Cat Power covers Hot Boys: Changes in the line-up of Jukebox, still to be released January 22.

Radiohead set a date: In Rainbows CD/LP in the UK on December 31, with US date yet to be confirmed.

Elvis Costello is Over England: Glastonbury turns him off playing the homeland... forever?

Erectile Dysfunction: Billboard honoring Muse doesn't go up because of acronym.

The Blood Brothers Break-up: It's confirmed.

Kings of Pop: Michael Jackson's new record to feature Kanye West, Will.I.Am.

Because you always wanted to use "Porcelain" for the credits: Moby releases his music to filmmakers, for free.

"The Perfect Answer to 'Control'": A Joy Division documentary, Peter Hook says, "When I see things like that it makes me think how fucking good we were. Tell that to the Arctic Monkeys!"

...plays a Flying V, has one of the best stage names maybe EVER (Reee-A-Tard?), is touring an album named Blood Visions, started recording songs in his bedroom when he was only 15, has spent the past nine years putting out a shit-ton of records with a shit-ton of different bands (think straight 60s garage-punk, synth-pop, synth-punk, and straight punk), he posts lots of demos and free MP3s on his blog, and... what else, oh, he's playing the Sunset tonight.

There better be head banging...

TapeTevoTiVo The Office. There's too much stuff happening around town to stay home tonight.

*The 826 benefit is at Town Hall with Dave Eggers, Todd Barry, Eugene Mirman, Sasha Frere-Jones, Rosie Thomas, and Geologic of Blue Scholars. Jonathan Zwickel had a conversation with Dave Eggers and the evening's host John Roderick of the Long Winters. Here's an excerpt:

THE STRANGER: Aside from you, John, it does seem like the musicians involved are of the tame, fuzzy-sweater rock variety: Ben Gibbard, Sufjan Stevens, this generation of lit rock that's popular right now.

EGGERS: You know what—I've actually never seen Ben Gibbard in a fuzzy sweater. I have to say that. He's never worn one around me. I don't know what he wears at home.

RODERICK: I have seen him in a fuzzy sweater, but he wasn't wearing anything else.

EGGERS: But there's going to be some hiphop at this show. And 826 performers, students in some of these shows in the past, or songwriters who appreciate a good turn of phrase and are good at it themselves... that's the connection. They're very similar in the attention paid to the written word, whether it's in hiphop or—what did you call it? "Lit rock"?—which I hadn't heard before, but I like that. I think the students recognize the common DNA to all those forms. So many of our students also do spoken word. They can put words on the page and perform them, too. There's a blurry line between all those forms, but I think the bottom line is that the words are important and they mean something.

Click here to read the whole thing.

*Billy Joel is at the KeyArena. Zwickel claims you can't appreciate him as an adult.

Billy Joel has sold more than 150 million albums worldwide. He set the record for sold-out shows at Madison Square Garden—12, two more than runner-up Bruce Springsteen—and had 13 Top 10 hits and 11 Top 10 albums. His songs are radio mainstays and his tours gross millions of dollars. But nobody cares about Billy Joel—nobody who matters, anyway.

*Drop the Lime is at Chop Suey's Club Pop and Eric Grandy interviewed him (Luca Venezia) for this week's paper:

Live, Venezia rocks a laptop, turntables, and a microphone, mixing songs on the fly, triggering samples, and singing over his own tracks. But for an artist who chops and spews such disparate styles at an often breakneck pace, he approaches his live sets with a kind of casual spontaneity.

"It's very loose," he says. "I like to see how the crowd feels. Maybe I'll drop a dubstep tune, and if the crowd really goes crazy for it, then I'll focus on putting more dubstep into the set that night. Or if I play some old-school Chicago house and people really go crazy for that, then I'll shift gears and take the set in that direction. And that keeps it really fresh for me; every time I play, it's a different set. I'll have a rough outline or certain combinations of tunes that I like, but I like to jump around and not stick to one method."

*And finally, Sondre Lerche is in town too.

Sondre Lerche, Dan Wilson
(Nectar) Sondre Lerche might take a keener-than-usual interest in the daily machinations of opener Dan Wilson, given that Lerche composed the just-released soundtrack to Dan in Real Life. The Norwegian singer-songwriter's sprightly instrumentals and earnest acoustic numbers intertwine with the movie's action, proving essential to its heartfelt, casually comic tone. Lerche's chamber-pop version of Pete Townshend's "Let My Love Open the Door" (which he coached Steve Carell to perform in the film) figures to represent Dan in Real Life live. Dan in Real Life follows February's Phantom Punch, on which the erstwhile lounge crooner delved into noisy garage rock with his backing trio the Faces Down. Lerche left his band behind for this tour, but his charismatic presence and sensitive vocals, both magnified in a solo setting, should compensate for what the stripped-down Phantom Punch selections will lack in volume. ANDREW MILLER

...for using the word "omnipresent."

Oh sure, this post is great for a lot of other reasons--like, uh, the specific illumination of the manner by which someone might do something that none of us do, because it is illegal--but what I really like about it is a certain sentence that goes like this:

I’ve found this technique works best with albums that are brand new or omnipresent.

It's funny, because there's another word you could have used instead of omnipresent. In fact, omnipresent is so nice there, hits you in such a good way, because it sounds cool but also because there's another word that most of the rest of the world would use there. Not that that's bad--you know, whatever, words are words, they're just supposed to convey meaning. But a word you haven't thought of in a while--well, it helps your brain grow, because we think in words. (The more complicated your vocabulary is, the more complicated your thoughts can be.)

In a post earlier today, I confessed to hating the word "ubiquitous," but unlike with "myriad" (how about just "countless"?) I did not put forward a lesser used and not-as-annoying synonym for "ubiquitous." In the comments, flamingbanjo wrote:

"Countless" only has two syllables and doesn't sound as pretty. These are the sorts of things lyricists obsess over. In the example you mention, obviously the euphony of the word was the motivating quality, since "myriad harbor" doesn't mean anything (unless it's a proper name.)

I guess "ubiquitous" is now a self-descriptive word (like "pentasyllabic") but I'm trying hard to think of a synonym to replace it. Until I do I'll probably keep using it.

We have our answer, flamingbanjo.

(Hats off, Parks.)

German Reissue label, Past Due, recently released their fourth 12" record. This time the label showcases the group Right Direction, a local Chicago funk/disco sensation from the 1970's. The track, "Midnight Rhythm", which was the group's original name, is a funky feel-good classic from the most obscure corners of the Chicago soul scene. The track at the time, never received any label attention, which eventually led to the demise of the group. However, now through the help of Past Due, we are able to enjoy this amazing gem. The 12-inch single also features a few solid re-edits by Underdog Edits' DJ Part Sixx and Simbad (AKA Mowgly).

Right Direction - Midnight Rhythm (Part Sixx's re-work)

In all the crying over Oink's shutdown, I meant to post how I typically steal music and why Oink's death didn't impact me all that much. With all of the MP3 blogs out there, it's easier than ever to find things without ever needing to mess with torrenting (which I don't do at work). So here's the rundown (all you need is Google)--I find it simple and remarkably effective, but YMMV.

In Google, search for the artist and album title, then (here's the kicker), the name of a file upload service. MP3 blogs typically use the same services, and nine times out of ten you can find what you're looking for with variation on the upload service you use.

So let's try this with the new Burial album. Search for "burial untrue megaupload" and *BAM* you've got multiple options for downloading the entire album. Sure, some links go down and there's some trial and error, but by and large you can find what you're looking for. I've found this technique works best with albums that are brand new or omnipresent.

Here are some services I typically use in my query:
- Megaupload
- Rapidshare
- Sendspace
- ZShare

A side benefit of doing this is you discover a lot of new blogs to keep up with. Hope this helps someone out until Oink's replacement comes along (and when it does, send me an invite!)

*Pretend this is a disclaimer about how stealing music is wrong and how you should support artists by purchasing their albums and seeing them live and how this information is only for research purposes. Put another way, RIAA, don't come knocking on my door.

Argue if you must, but "myriad" is one of those words you just shouldn't use. It's like "eclectic." Or "ubiquitous." To the extent that a single word can be a cliche, they're cliches. They're worn out. They're overused. There are people who slip "myriad" into conversation all the time, or worse, write with it, thinking it's sorta fancy, when actually "countless" would do just fine and "myriad" is a word that everyone is well beyond familiar with. Someone uses it and you kinda wince.

(Literary digression: In David Leavitt's novel Martin Bauman, the main character gets a short story accepted by a magazine when he's still in college. It's referred to as simply "the magazine" but is clearly The New Yorker. [Leavitt's first story was published in The New Yorker when he was a college student.] There's a scene where the narrator is in the office of "the magazine" and he glances at the wall behind the editor, and tacked to the wall behind the editor is a list of rules, one of which is "TITLES NOT TO READ BEYOND: 'The First Time'" and another is "WORDS NOT TO READ BEYOND: 'myriad.'")

All of which brings me to the New Pornographers: there's a song on their latest album Challengers that I am obsessed with, and it just so happens this song is called "Myriad Harbor." Which is really fucking with my ability to maintain my grudge against "myriad." Last night I was walking down a very long, very wet street, pasted with orange and brown leaves, and it was dark, and I was under my rain jacket's very big hood, and I didn't know what song I wanted to listen to, so I put on my iPod Shuffle, and didn't like the first song it came up with so I skipped it, and didn't like the second so skipped that too, and then then "Myriad Harbor" came on, which was exactly the right song, the song I wanted but didn't know I wanted. (The Pitchfork review of the album, which dismisses "Myriad Harbor" in favor of the song that comes after it, is bullshit.)

It begins with a kind of growling bass and then a very hooky guitar and then a guy sings "I took a plane, I took a train" and then a group of others (guys and girls) interrupts "Ah, who cares you always end up in the city"--although they pronounce it "sit-eeee"--and on it goes, in this lone-voice-versus-group-of-voices call and response, with again this very whistleable guitar line. The song has a subdued, warm, giddy center, and it's about being in the city, and the chorus goes: "Look out upon the myriad harbor, ha ha/Look out upon the myriad harbor, ha ha/Look out upon the myriad harbor, ha ha ha ha ha..." I don't really know what that means, but goddamn it's catchy, and as I was singing along I randomly encountered a big leather chair sitting out in a patch of lawn in the misty dark getting wet. The kind of thing you come across in a city at night. It was missing its cushion and you could see the springs and the song was making me want to jump and dance, so I jumped into the center of the chair--into the springs--and then kept going. Like I was in Mary Poppins or something.

This morning on my way to work, I walked by way of the chair, to see if it was still there, to confirm its existence, and I snapped this photo of it. It seemed a lot less magical in the daylight.

After finding out that the Backstreet Boys' new record actually debuted at #7 in the US, (and #2 in Canada), I decided to do some investigation. Partially out of curiosity (how is this musical crime still occuring?), but also out of shameful nostalgia for those bygone days of waiting in lines to buy tickets at the Tacoma Dome, and watching "Live in Orlando" on VHS until it was a fuzzy mess ("I think that's 'Show Me the Meaning of Being Lonely' in the background!")

Yeah, I wasn't one of those cool ten-year-olds who actually listen to good music or whatever.

Anyway, I went to their website and discovered that from the ashes of those flowing rain-drenched silk shirts and synchronized chair dances there has a-risen....


30-something Hipsters!

Q: How is it that these trend-following doppelgangers are still players in the Billboard charts despite achieving championed mediocrity with a string of awful has-been pop albums?

A: Because they are sneaky and know that obviously sunglasses make you look cooler.

Two non-Ruff Gemz happenings tonight of note. Not sure which (or if either) of these will get my attention after watching vampires wreck shit.

Konkrete Jungle - Tonight's the opening for the Seattle chapter of Konkrete Jungle, the NYC weekly that claims to be the longest consistently running jungle weekly in the world. Of note to the all-agers is that this night is 16+. Doors at 8pm, going down at the CHAC. More info on the MySpace.
EDIT: Reading is fundamental - this is weeks away on the 28th. Sorry for the confusion, but consider this a heads up.

Bonkers! - Described as "A Night of Fresh Hot Braindance," they're certainly going for a different market than the usual Club Sugar audience by booking Hakea and NDCV. Will the cops still have to show up, this time breaking up fights between techno enthusiasts over how "live" a live set is? Perhaps. 8pm-12am, $3.

"Alec Eiffel" by the Pixes:

I'll go first:

I feel like it's an often overlooked Pixies song, and it really shouldn't be.

I like singing along with the bouncing "little eiffel, little eiffel" that gets repeated in every verse. I like the re-occurring guitar solo (or is that more a glorified riff?) that first happens not even a minute into the song. I love the way Frank Black sings "Keeping low doesn't make no..." and then screams "sense!". But my favorite part in the whole song is the keyboard that sounds almost like a choir singing, and that melody that comes in just before Kim Deal starts softly singing "Oh Alexander, I see you beneath the archway of aerodynamics." And the rush of distortion/feedback that ends the song... I like that too.

Now it's your turn.

No, Mom. I'm listening to Loveless over and over and over, now that I've heard the news:

My Bloody Valentine: the reunion confirmed

Even better, the band has a new album "due sometime before the end of this year." Wonder if it cost $500,000 to make.

Oh, happy day.

Shambles: Pete Doherty relapses via YouTube.

Some people actually still care about the Backstreet Boys: This is actually news to me. But Unbreakable debuted at number seven in the charts.

Britney can't catch a break: In a last-minute Billboard change, The Eagles' Walmart-exclusive trumps Blackout

MJ talking about Thriller: ...and Akon? ... and losing Neverland?

Quick Break-up: Hot Water Music is back together and touring.

Where is the Love? Courtney releases Nirvana's music for a biopic, hates Madonna.

Best Damn Thing: Avril is on her way, with a tour starting and ending in the PNW.

(Giving you possibly two chances to see her, complete with back-up dancers...)

Tonight, the Baltic Room chapter of Ruff Gemz ends. Come, celebrate. Infiltrate with dance. 1207 Pine St.

DJ FITS and Sam Rousso Sound System will be excavating levitation from the molecules of wood in the floor. Feet and people will half float, stuffed with moves. Canyons of techno and punk will dip into hip hop tendencies.

FITS possesses prowess of spin, a cross weave of weighted beats and waves of sweated sound. Bass is plowed. Cuts are a geyser. Schemes batter and mash, splurging with low end syncopation. The granite bust of James Murphy presides.

Up and down in the Fitsian fold, get psychic with your moves. Get your modes nasty. Get nude.

Thanks, FITS and Sam, for a great run.

Dengue Fever, Yogoman Burning Band
(Nectar) Dengue Fever, a raggedy bunch of L.A. hipsters fronted by a sultry Cambodian pop diva, have just finished a documentary chronicling their only tour of vocalist Ch'hom Nimol's homeland. Guitarist Zac Holtzman recalls poorer, less-Westernized locals watching the band "with huge eyes, almost if we landed on a different planet." That's probably because the whirling psychedelia of a Farfisa organ, droning horns, and driving surf guitar combined with Ch'hom's lush vocals is a far cry from the sentimental pop videos that dominate the televisions of the impoverished country. Blame the genocidal Khmer Rouge regime for killing off Cambodia's budding rock scene. Thank Dengue Fever for bringing it back. JASON McBRIDE

Feist
(Paramount) According to the Washington Post's recently published "Moby Equation" (a formula for determining the degree to which licensing a song makes its creator a sellout), Feist's video for "1, 2, 3, 4," appearing in an iPod ad, isn't really that serious of a transgression. The client is fairly cool, the song is hardly "sacred," and Feist's indie reputation is as nebulous as anyone's in these postmodern, late-capitalist times. She's not exactly Bob Dylan rolling around in an Escalade. Besides, that song and especially that video—with its impeccably executed, color-coded modern dance routine—are the shit. Feist's sound—largely acoustic pop that highlights her ranging, breathy vocals—could come dangerously close to Starbucks counter–adult contemporary, but her songwriting displays a depth and daring that sets her safely apart. ERIC GRANDY

In 1979 Tim Stahl and John Guldberg formed the duo Laid Back in Copenhagen, Denmark. It wasn't until 1982 that they had their first hit, "Sunshine Reggae", which was actually a b-side to one of the singles off of their first, self-titled LP.

The next album, 1983's ...Keep Smiling, proved to be their greatest success in the U.S. spawning the monster club hit "White Horse". The album has other great moments, though, like "High Society Girl", a remake of "Sunshine Reggae" and the totally chill cosmic closer "Fly Away/Walking In The Sunshine".

Largely seen as one-hit wonders in the U.S. Laid Back managed to put together a number of European Top 40 hits through the '80's and '90's, most notably with the song "Bakerman", which spawned a brilliant video by a very young, pre-Dogme95, Lars Von Trier. The video was shot in one take with multiple cameras as the band and friends jumped out of an airplane. It was covered in 2006 by the cheeseball handbag house DJ Shaun Baker and charted a second time throughout Europe.

Since then Laid Back have mostly worked on movie and TV soundtracks, winning the Danish equivalent of an Oscar for their work in 2002.

Laid Back - White Horse (Original LP Version)
Laid Back - Fly Away/Walking In The Sunshine

...And here's the brilliant, funny video to "Bakerman".

Last week Nas announced he’s naming his new album Nigger. He says (to MTV News):

"I wanna make the word easy on mutha----as' ears," he explained. "You see how white boys ain't mad at 'cracker' 'cause it don't have the same [sting] as 'nigger'? I want 'nigger' to have less meaning [than] 'cracker.' With all the bullsh-- that's going on in the world, racism is at its peak. I wanna do the sh-- that's not being done. I wanna be the artist who ain't out. I wanna make the music I wanna hear.

Still, the music community is torn on Nas' choice. Jay-Z, LL Cool J, and more support his decision, but 50 Cent says it's "stupid" and Rev. Al Sharpton doesn't approve either. Some are calling it the most offensive album title ever and are planning to boycott should Island/Def Jam go through with releasing it (which they are).

Music’s history is wrought with records with names far more offensive than Nigger. Take a look at the list below. Chocolate Starfish and the Hot Dog Flavored Water? BAD! Fiona Apple and her 90 word diatribe? TERRIBLE! And Barbara Streisand's Christmas album? She's Jewish! Nigger's got nothin' on these.

Which do you think is a more offensive album title?

As Pitchfork reports this morning, local mega-indie Sub Pop's digital download store is open for business. The mp3s are available as full album zip files of 192 kbps mp3s. Singles and EPs are forthcoming, as are exclusive tracks, but for the time being it's just albums. Still, Pitchfork rightly highlights one pretty neat feature of Sub Pop's scheme:

Maybe the coolest part of all this, though, lies in this little detail: "You can download the files you've purchased from your account page at any time and multiple times-- if we update the download in any way (think bitrate or bonus tracks or whatever), you can just log in, go to your download page, and get the new version of the file." Ever lose a few paychecks worth of digital music files in one fell swoop of a hard drive crash? Sub Pop understands.

Sub Pop content will continue to be available via iTunes as well as those weird, musty places called "record shoppes."

From this month's Rolling Stone interview with Chris Rock:

Chris Rock: Music kind of sucks. Nobody's into being a musician. Everybody's getting their mogul on. You've been so infiltrated by this corporate mentality that all the time you'd spend getting great songs together, you're busy doing nine other things that have nothing to do with art. You know how shitty Stevie Wonder's songs would have been if he had to run a fuckin' clothing company and a cologne line?

Rolling Stone: Plenty of rappers say, "I'm not a rapper, I'm a businessman."

Chris Rock: That's why rap sucks, for the most part. Not all rap, but as an art form it's just not at its best moment. Sammy the Bull would have made a shitty album. And I don't really have a desire to hear Warren Buffett's album--or the new CD by Paul Allen. That's what everybody's aspiring to be.

We live in a weird time. No one knows who's smart--we just know who makes money. "Hey, somebody invented Viagra! We don't know their name, but we know Pfizer, because they make the money." That guy made a pill that keeps your dick hard, and nobody knows who the fuck he is. The pharmaceutical companies are like fuckin' record companies. There's literally the Bo Diddley of medicine walking around, not getting his royalties. He signed all his fucking pill publishing away.

Couldn't help but think of that quote while watching American Gangster tonight. Playing secondary roles in the film--which was pretty damn entertaining--was a trio of high-profile hiphop stars. I've read several reviews of the movie and none made mention of its rapper-turned-actor count.

There's RZA, sporting a 'Fro and a Wu tattoo (um, the film is set in the early '70s) in the role of a streetwise narc. And hey, isn't that T.I. as a young athelete tempted by crime's easy money? Not much of a stretch, but the kid does an admirable job. And there's Lonnie Lynn--you know him as Common--sporting the same paperboy hat and collared shirt as in that old Reebok ad. Weird.

Especially spot-on was RZA's imitation of a junkie--limping, mumbling "hey man, it's me, Boogaloo!"--during a climactic bust scene. You can't mistake that voice.

Seems you could apply Rock's mogul theory to acting, too. Did anybody hear the last Common album? Did anybody care? Maybe acting is different--at least it's an artistic pursuit--but these days, the roles Common chooses are more interesting than the albums he makes.

Hat tip to the Lefsetz Letter.