If you don’t love the Vampire Weekend album, you’re lying to yourself.

I just got a text from my friend Alicia, who’s in Austin.

Holy shit! I just got drenched in beer @ Monotonix!

She elaborated:

Totally incredible - I got smashed in the arm with a guitar. It was nuts!

Ah, the magic of SXSW.

Every day at 3 pm I post a random MP3 from The Stranger’s Bands Pages. It may or may not be good. That’s for you to decide.

Today’s song: “Horses are Arriving” by Paintings for Animals.

So. What’d you think?

I have to say, this place is kind of a sausage fest. I know it’s supposed to be a taco-fest, but there sure is a lot sausage. One chicka, though, blew everyone away with her live set. I hadn’t previously heard of Santogold. But wow, wow, wowee. Watch this one, to be sure. Sharp, sassy, pure gold…

Another new love, not previously heard, the Pissed Jeans.

Their choice in band name, um, appropo…

Also, really really great, was No Age…

… who introduced themselves as Vampire Weekend, the biggest hyped band here, it seems. And Austin’s own…

White Denim.

Ok - Day Four. I’m off to chase Monotonix, Mika Miko, Clock Cleaner, Spank Rock, and 2 Live Crew. What a weird combination. This place is surreal.

I started Friday at the iheartcomix party, which was on the upper deck of a parking garage a few blocks west of the SXSW strip proper. There was a line to get in, not so much because it was over crowded, but because they were letting people up one crammed elevator at a time. Up on the roof, Flosstradamus were DJing a set of big, dumb, fun party jams—Michael Jackson re-edits, their Matt & Kim remix, Ed Banger, “Satisfaction,” “Better Off Alone.” “Yo, we’re just freestyling up here, playing our favorite songs,” they said over the opening synth strains of Benny Benassi. Then: “This wind is killing us up here. It’s blowing our needles all over the place. Fuck it.” Then, later: “Spring break!” And it really felt like spring break.

The high wind wasn’t the only snag at the iheartcomix party, though. There was free beer, but they stopped serving for three hours at 6pm. They were out of water by then, too, although they did have tiny, branded squirt-guns, and I saw one guy walking around with a squirt-gun stuck in his mouth, killing himself for some water.

Santogold had a rough time, too. Santi White came out in a neon pink and green clashing jumpsuit and big wrapped shades, flanked by two stone-faced dancers in white blouses and sunglasses (whichever critic first compared these girls to Public Enemy’s S1-Ws deserves a medal). So, obviously, Santogold is drawing a lot of M.I.A. comparisons—there’s the aforementioned outfit, the fact that Santogold’s electrp-pop is made with some of the same producers, and having Diplo as your live DJ definitely isn’t going to help matters. The most striking difference, besides White’s more trained singing voice, is that whereas M.I.A. samples from a grab-bag of global urban music, Santogold mashes mostly Jamaican influences, notably rocksteady and ska, into ‘08 club music (the bright, 8-bit crunk of “Creator” is an exception).

Diplo, for whatever reason (maybe he was still reeling from that pool party), kind of bombed at backing up Santogold. After the first song, there was a long, drawn out silence, while Diplo worked out some apparent technical issue. White’s S1-Ws stayed totally still and expressionless for the duration like total pros, while Santogold asked if anyone knew any jokes. A friend wondered if she was lip-synching, and, after finally doing her next song, White admitted, “I don’t know if I should tell you this, but that was the CD version of the track,” so she had been singing over her own recorded vocals. Later, her voice was thinner but still impressively elastic. One song started playing backwards part way through, and another one just cut off completely maybe a minute in, causing White to snap, “I don’t even need to say anything. I’m looking for a new DJ.” Then, amicably, “Just kidding. You all know Diplo’s the shit.” It’s a forgiving, forgetful party, though, and White thanks the audience for being so nice.

Another long line, and it’s up to a rooftop pool and patio, where they were serving wine. The sun was setting, all pink and orange behind the DJ booth, girls were dangling their legs in the pool, a trance riff was playing on the soundsystem—it was like walking up the stairs from SXSW and winding up in at WMC in Miami. Definitely the best looking crowd of the weekend so far (music critics aside). Team Robespierre played half a song, blew a fuse, paused in the dark, and then did a short but spirited set for a handful of fans and a lot of disinterested onlookers. Talked to Khaela Maricich from the Blow for a minute, mostly about Why?’s lyrics and whether or not they were offensively bad. I’m obviously a big fan, she’s not so much. We both agree that his morbid neuroses suggest that Yoni Wolf could be bad boyfriend material. About an hour later, I get the weird feeling that I had that exact same conversation before.

Back down on the parking garage floor, after dark, Cut Copy absolutely light the party up. Their new songs have a serious New Order vibe—soft, mopey singing over shimmering synth arpeggios, dreamy pop shoegaze guitars, and electronic kick thump. They have neon, kaleidoscopic videos playing behind them. Like New Order, the lyrics are frequently secondary to the songs’ pulse. “This is a pretty cool party, here’s some more party music,” said their singer before introducing another simultaneously joyous and melancholic song. They played “Girl and the Sea” and “Lights and Music,” and both sounded fantastic. Later, during an instrumental lull: “It’s time for everyone to go nuts, not just the people in front but all through the place.” When the beat kicked back in, the crowd obediently went apeshit, jumping up and down, dancing all over, clapping along.

At the Sub Pop showcase, Pissed Jeans were playing out on a patio stage and fucking killing it. The gravel pit the stage was set up in front of wasn’t great footing for moshing, but a few dudes gave it a shot. The lead singer of Pissed Jeans is a great front-man, part Iggy Pop, part David Yow, part Will Ferrell (Ferrell hat tip: Brandon Ivers), alternately shuddering, sneering, leering, and cringing, leaning on his mic stand, then hunching down to the stage, howling, then screaming into the nearly eye-level stage lights, his thrusting and writhing at once sexual and self-deprecating. Plus he’s funny: “You guys need more pebbles? There’s more pebbles back there.” The band was heavy—drums pounding hard, rumbling, and rolling; bass vibrating below audible frequencies; guitar droning feedback. They swerved from ranting drones to bursts of thrash to sludgy headbanging snarl, brutally executing each. Of all the bands on the Sub Pop showcase, Pissed Jeans stood out as what you might call a classic Sub Pop band. Grunge. Flannel. Hanging on the flippety flop. All that good shit. Plus, they’ve got that whole Allentown-depressed-rust-belt-Springsteen lyric-mystique. “I’m Sick” and “Don’t Need Smoke to Make Myself Disappear” were particularly brutal.

Grand Archives sounded good in the main room, their newer, more rootsy songs sounding more at home here than in Seattle, although the more subdued songs from their demo EP are still my favorite.

Across the street, Old Time Relijun were an ecstatic, mad freak-out, free jazz skronk mixing with swamp boogie mixing with mutant disco grooves mixing with shamanic throat singing. Stand up bass and dual saxophone (two reeds, one mouth) and Arrington de Dionyso looking a little less impish than usual but still summoning some apocalyptic fire and brimstone. I swear I heard an interpolation of “Contort Yourself” in one song. When his guitar came unplugged, he said, “I feel like a guitar shouldn’t come unplugged during such ecstatic, raucous song. Is it embarrassing?” Some guy shouted out, “No big deal,” and Dionyso replied, “I agree with this guy, it’s no big deal.” Saw the drunkest, douchiest dude of the weekend so far, shouting and shoving people incoherently, sporting a shiny baseball cap. Saw a guy fall ass backwards, passing out, head thunking hard on the ground. Good show.

HEALTH sounded much better than their second-most recent show at Chop Suey. Their drummer pounded while the other guys hunched on the floor and humped the stage, screaming into their pedals, jumping up and down, echoing vocals soaring, guitar bursts interlocking and falling apart, feedback braying like a donkey. I wonder, is the impact of noise music lessened when pretty people are making it? Is an ugly band like Wolf Eyes more legit than these guys?

I caught a minute of Blitzen Trapper, including “Wild Mountain Nation,” and it occurs to me that the whole rootsy rock resurgence that’s happening right now, especially in Seattle and on Sub Pop, leaves me kind of lukewarm. I don’t get it. I don’t dig rural seventies Southern soft rock. I appreciate the musicianship and the craft and all that, but, like Moz says, it says nothing to me about my life.

Rode to a couple massive, expensive-looking, but ultimately bunk afterparties with a couple of photographers who were taking flash photos in the front seat while driving buzzed. I don’t want to die driving to see fucking Squirrel Nut Zippers or whatever play at some energy drink sales pitch, but fuck it, if that’s how I go out, so be it. Spring break!

By Blush Photo.

No way! Not one of the “Build Me Up Buttercup” guys! No, no, no.

In this week’s Up & Comings for the Les Claypool show tonight (Friday, March 14th) it reads:

Also in the Claypool band are Critters Buggin’s Mike Dillon, Paulo Baldi from Cake, and Eric McFadden.

Eric McFadden is not in Claypool’s band. Drummer Paulo Baldi plays with Cake and has toured with Eric McFadden.

Had to clear that up.

In the slew of shows happening around Seattle this evening, I forgot to mention one very tasty, all ages option: Pie Night at the Vera Project!

It’s Night of the Living Vera, which means all the music comes from bands or projects featuring Vera volunteers. And not only that, but there are also pies to eat. Why? Because it’s pie day. 3/14. 3.1415926535897. Pi. Get it?

Here’s all the info you need. Forks will be supplied.

Friday March 14 | 7:30 PM
Night of the Living Vera! presents:
Pie Day at The Vera Project!
Music: Pneumonia Jones
Alexis V.O.
And lots and lots of pie!
The Vera Project is extremely excited Night of the Living Vera with an excellent and awesome pie day! There will be a number of pies! Between 15 and 20 pies will be here for your consumption! On top of that there will be two awesome bands and a DJ & to rock the walls for an awesome dance party! Bring a pie if you want! Or don’t and eat a whole bunch of pies!! Just come and eat and dance!
$4 ($3 w/ club card)

In Matthew Barney’s Cremaster 2, Slayer drummer Dave Lombardo solos with a swarm of bees. Bass tones of the bees are brought up as Lombardo murders the double-kick. The scene is tense, guttural, and foreboding. Morbid Angel singer Steve Tucker is there, covered in bees, demonically gurgling into a phone.

The story of Cremaster 2 is loosely centered on the life of the Mormon man Gary Gilmore (played by Barney) who was put to death in 1977 for killing two Utah men.

Okay, SXSW’ers. Sure I’m happy that you’re all having the time of your lives or whatever, but someone has to say it. All of us back here in Seattle are fucking miserable. It’s rainy, it’s windy, we can’t skateboard, we can’t sit outside at Bauhaus, and things couldn’t get much worse. You know the stuff. That slimy, cold Seattle weather? It’s the kind that makes you want to skip school or work to curl up in bed with a good book, a warm cup of Joose, and some tunes to enhance the mood. While the new Beach House album is a wonderful example of a rainy day record, I’m realizing that when I go home today I don’t have a go-to, fail safe album to put on while I hibernate. I’m wondering what you guys think. Does anyone out there have an ultimate, hands down, best ever album to listen to on a rainy day? Something that captures the mood that only our fair city’s trademark weather can put you in? I know someone out there has an answer. I just hope that person isn’t drunk/passed out somewhere in the Lone Star State.

Every day at 3 pm I post a random MP3 from The Stranger’s Bands Pages. It may or may not be good. That’s for you to decide.

Today’s song: “Pins” by the Royal Bear.

Do you have a Bands Page? Click here to get one.

I can’t tell you how mad I was when I realized I missed Napalm Death and Motörhead. They were at noon and three o’clock, and at that point I was somehow just leaving the assisted elderly home were I slept a fairly weird six hours on a half-inflated blow-up mattress. But that’s another story. After some random taco-like foodstuffs, I went and got a beer from The Amazing Mr. Lifto. Remember Lifto? That guy from Jim Rose Circus Sideshow who could lift cinder blocks with his penis? Seems he’s a bartender in Austin now. And a good one at that. Shortly after, I ran into The Amazing Jennifer Maerz. She suggested we head over to the VICE magazine showcase to bang our heads to some punk rock… some new punk rock. Just like old times.

First up, MixHell. At first it sounded like just dance music, but then dude starts pounding on the drums while the girl DJs. Turns out the MixHell is Igor Cavalera from Sepultura, and the girl is wifey. Dance Music marries Thrash Metal. Weird. I like it.

Next this guy comes out. With Fucked Up - VICE’S “favorite hardcore band in the world”.

The singer instantly loses his shirt somewhere, and starts brutalizing the venue…

and the audience, in a good, only slightly dangerous way…

He kept trying to trying to do cartwheels and somersaults. Kept failing. He pretty much trashed his own audience. Who in turn, placed him at the bottom of a serious and sizable dog pile at the end of the last song. I saw him after the show, cleaning blood from his forehead, not from the audience, but from his own repeated smacks to the head with his microphone. Is this hardcore? I’m not going to argue.

After Fucked Up, Jay Reatard hit the stage. Reatard killed it, and simultaneously head-banged through the entire set. I saw the leader singer of Spoon in the audience. He tried to head bang a little too, but you could tell he was too self-conscious.

Lastly, was new band Dark Meat. Picture a weirder Polyphonic Spree…

who live together in a cult and eat acid for breakfast…

People in the audience were throwing streamers, rubber balls, and screaming. Someone also had a shit-ton of confetti…

They killed it too. My favorite new band of the day.

I never dreamed never hippies could headbang. I guess there’s a first for everything.

Austin seems to be experiencing slightly more cell phone traffic than usual today. Also, the Internets:

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Hey! My first hangover of SXSW, and it’s like 90 degrees out, not my preferred hangover weather. Guess I’ll stay in and blog. Here’s how I got so hungover, in chronological order:

The Fader Fort. The Fader Fort is pretty fucking cool, a big courtyard stage behind a Levi’s store, with cool shit happening all weekend, free booze, and a nice, cool indoor lounge with laptops setup for blogging and whatnot, courtesy of mp3 blog/label RCRD LBL. Outside a couple of older guys with placards were protesting Levi’s for using Chinese labor, but the long lines of kids waiting outside were more worried about getting in to the party (not an easy task).

Saul Williams played with a three-piece backing band, much more of a rock performance than I had expected. Williams had bright blue streaks under his eyes and wore a green jacket with neon feathers sticking out of the breast pocket, kind of an Aboriginal dandy look. At one point between songs, he said, “Race is a social construct. We are each other, and the music is here to authorize that.” Later, he played his cover of “Sunday Bloody Sunday” by U2. Talked to my buddy Josh from Urb who had just been to Kuwait to cover “Operation: Myspace” concert held there for the troops. He had flown from there straight to SXSW. He still seemed a little shaken up. Overheard back in the RCRD LBL lounge: “Someone just tried to sell me coke.” “Huh, too bad you’re broke.”

Fluokids were DJing in a corner outside, attracting a crowd made up mostly of varying degrees of DJs: Pretty Titty, FourColorZack, My!Gay!Husband!, Rezound, myself. Floukids is a great blog for staying up on your French electro and odd American hip hop, and the kids’ set was a good mix of all the stuff they usually post, only, you know, without all the girls. Cadence Weapon tried to get in the back door, and the security guys weren’t having it, but a minute later, someone let him in.

There was a long tribute to Lou Reed, featuring performances from My Morning Jacket, Mark Kozelek, Thurston Moore, and others, culminating with Moby and Reed performing “Walk on the Wild Side.” Weird. Reed: “I love punk rock; I was the first one.” Immediately after Reed and Moby, Fluokids dropped the new Justice single, “DVNO,” which was altogether a pretty jarring transition. Despite twice having been close enough to Pharrell to touch him (he walked by me while I was in the bathroom line; he had huge diamond-stud earings), skipped NERD to get some much needed tacos.

Over at Barcelona, a DJ who I think was DJ Pubez (nice) was playing a mellow, groovy mix—I caught a re-edit of Chicago’s “I’m a Man” into Don Armando’s rework of “I’m an Indian Too.”

Fucked Up played at a bar called Vice. I was expecting them to be more of a brutal hardcore band, but it was more like one brutal hardcore screamer (and total bear) fronting a kind of straightforward punk rock band. It was a six piece that sound like a three piece. But, then, if they were a three-piece, their giant singer wouldn’t be able to charge through the crowd and climb the walls. Throughout the show, the singer kept pounding himself in the forehead with his mic, but at one point, the mic came unplugged, he flashed a goofy smile while fixing it, and it totally cracked the band’s tough facade. Still a totally fun band, and well worth watching. Also, good stage banter: “This is a 21+ show, so I know we’re all adults here. So how come one of you peed all over the seat in the bathroom?”

Caught a couple Throw Me the Statue songs over at Mohawk’s, notably “Take it or Leave It” and the rousing “About to Walk.” They sounded great, playing in a small back room while Bodies of Water played the big outdoor patio.

Headed over to Beauty Bar for the iheartcomix showcase. Saw Franki Chan as well as Gabe and Dylan Roadie. Indoors was HEARTSREVOLUTION, a live soundsystem with drums and electronics, blasting crunched, neon electro rock while a girl with pink Zorro/Fisherspooner eye makeup shouting through a red rhinestone megaphone. They blew a fuse at one point, pausing, lights down, until the power came back on. One of their lyrics was about anarchy, but it was hard to make out.

Outside, Totally Michael was like a foul-mouthed, one man Matt & Kim, only with rapping. He had one song about cheerleaders vs the drill team, for which he divided the crowd in half and encouraged some reenactment of that primal rivalry. His last song bounced to a boy/girl chorus of “You make my dick erect / You make my pussy wet.” It was every bit as romantic as it sounds. (It makes some sense that he takes his inspiration from Soophie Nun Squad, although his act is so far removed from their Little Rock scene that I couldn’t spot the influence until seeing it mentioned in his bio afterwards.)

^{Shout Out Out Out Out by Kelly O}

Next up was Shout Out Out Out Out, a band I’ve been dying to see ever since they killed Club Pop last year. SOOOO’s electro-funk draws not-unfair comparisons to !!! (maybe the repetitive name has something to do with it too), but SOOOO are way more electro than !!!, with two drummers, two keyboardists, and live bass. And their vocoded lyrics are slightly socialist compared to !!!’s “no fucking rules” attitude—one of SOOOO’s songs is about the tension between competition and collectivity; another is about consumerism and credit card debt. Like !!!, they also rock the funny song titles, with gems like “Your Shitty Record Won’t Mix Itself.” Anyways, super stoked for the show.

^{Shout Out Out Out Out w/ Cadence Weapon by Kelly O}

Bummer then that at least one dude from SOOOO, the guy in the red shirt with the fake mustache, was SOOOOOOO fucking wasted that he couldn’t stand up, let alone play keys. He spent the most of the set hitting the keys with his hands, mashing several keys at a time, but at one point, he hit too hard, and fell forward onto his keyboard and towards the crowd. It took a few minutes to get things righted, and in the meantime, the drummers kept their beat, and Cadence Weapon jumped onstage to MC. Cadence Weapon saves the day, and the band recovers, although dude keeps mashing his keys, and they only get in one more song, a middling take on the aforementioned “Your Shitty Record Won’t Mix Itself,” with it’s closing refrain of “You need to simplify.” It was a drunk disaster, but it’s understandable, given their introduction of, “Who’s drunk? (cheers) Who’s been eating nothing but tacos for three days? (more cheers) Damn, it’s like you’re in my head…and stomach…and liver.” Fuck it, I still love these guys.

MGMT (maybe?) by Kelly O

Next stop: the Playboy Party. To see Justice (and for the articles). Not really my scene, but here are some highlights/observations: It’s a big, multi-room warehouse, with a stage in one room, a bar and some acid-paisley projections on the walls in the next. There’s lots of uncomfortable shoving in the (admittedly free) drink line, where I hear my first big Texas accents of the weekend from some big dudes in baseball caps (a friend points out that most of the people here probably knew the names of playmates on the invite but not the names of the bands). There’s some middling, bluesy rock band onstage with two playmates in blue bunny getups dancing along. Every woman in a bunny suit is followed by an attendant burly dude in a decidedly non-bunny suits, the models’ fake smiles backed up by very real scowls. There’s Aziz Ansari. I’m handed about a dozen sets of 3-D glasses with which to view a not-terribly eye-popping video projection. There’s some barbeque. Some people are playing “Say it Ain’t So” on a Guitar Hero rig set up in the back of a car. I hear someone snorting something in the porta-pottie next to me (btw, at some parties, though not at this one, SXSW has gender specific porta-potties—pink for girls, blue for boys). MGMT may or may have played while I was there, it was hard to tell, but we definitely left before Justice came on to go catch a house party across town.

The house party was definitely more my scene. The “house” was actually some kind of complex, with a pool in the center, some kind of treehouse/crows nest, an outdoor DJ booth, housing in two corners, and at least three big yards. Diplo was DJing. A few brave people were jumping in the pool, fully clothed. James Ford of Simian Mobile Disco was there, as was Cadence Weapon, Shout Out Out Out Out, dude from Extreme Animals, and no doubt tons of other people I should’ve recognized. The one problem was that it was kind of a BYOB affair, and we were empty handed and after hours. A guy from Division Day was nice enough to give me my one last beer of the night, and for that I vow to give their album, Beartrap Island a more thorough listen when I get home.

I walked back across town to the hotel at 4 in the morning. Austin was dark and sleeping quiet, trucks rolling down the highway, crickets buzzing, pre-dawn light just threatening to creep up on the horizon. So, yeah, that’s how I got hungover.

New York’s Patrick Adams, whom is one of my all-time favorite producers, was a major player in producing some of the most classic disco and dance releases during the late 1970’s and early 1980’s. During his remarkable career, he worked with groups and artists such as Musique, Inner Life, Cloud One, Herbie Mann, Bumble Bee Unlimited, The Kay-Gees, Rainbow Brown, Venus Dodson, plus many many more. He also helped run the legendary New York disco label P&P Records with the legendary Peter Brown, that produced many classic disco and club records. In Adams long and brilliant career, he did come out with own solo work in 1978 with the album, Patrick Adams Presents Phreek. This record is a ‘disco staple’, a great dancefloor masterpiece that also featured another legendary disco/soul producer in Leroy Burgess. The classic single that came off this record was “Weekend”, which was a favorite cut of Paradise Garage’s Larry Levan. Levan enjoyed the song so much that he did his own mix of the song, and his extended edit was eventually released and became a huge club hit which was later covered by Class Action. We can definitely discuss for some time, about Adams’ Phreek album as well as his other brilliantly produced work, however on this Friday, I say let’s sit back and enjoy the “Weekend”.

Phreek - Weekend (Larry Levan 12” Mix)

A list of artists has just been released for the first ever Pemberton Festival, British Columbia’s three day concert response to Samsquamch. Pemberton is a two hour drive from Vancouver, north of Whistler. Only three day tickets can be purchased (lame), going for $239.50 Canadian. Promoters expect a crowd of about 40,000 for the festival, taking place July 25-27. Coldplay, Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, Jay-Z and Nine Inch Nails will be headlining. The other confirmed bands:

Flaming Lips / Interpol / Death Cab For Cutie / The Tragically Hip / Serj Tankian / My Morning Jacket / Metric / Sam Roberts Band / Vampire Weekend / Black Mountain / Minus The Bear / Wintersleep / Buck 65 / Secret Machines / MGMT / Brazillian Girls / SIA / Fiery Furnaces / Mates of State / The Airborne Toxic Event / Carolina Liar / Grand Ole Party / Monte Negro / Low Vs Diamond / Annie Stela / The Crystal Method / DJ Shadow & Cut Chemist / Junkie XL / David Seaman / Booka Shade / MSTRKRFT / M.A.N.D.Y. / Tommie Sunshine / Chromeo / Deadmau5 / 3 OH! 3 / Kevin Shiu / Timeline / Tony Pantages

WFMU has just posted links to Icelandic singer Leoncie’s YouTube page, which is full of videos. I can’t begin to explain these, so here’s one, Killer in the Park.

And if that wasn’t enough for you—how could it be?—here’s Man! Let’s Have Fun!

This might not be new, but I don’t care because I AM IN LOVE.

This picture taken in Shoreline, WA. Notice the Biker Friendly – Slayer combo:

The Biker Friendly sticker means the driver of that vehicle is aware and partial to motorcycles (and possibly a biker as well).

When the sticker is seen, bikers know there is another biker in that vehicle. The person on the motorcycle knows there is someone willing to give them room to pass or a place to tuck in after lane sharing.

Tips for driving “Biker Friendly” from the website:

- Look for riders.
- Don’t tailgate.
- Don’t cut off that motorcycle.
- Give riders extra room.
- Motorcycles are entitled to their own lane.
- Road rage can KILL a rider.

Road safety is important, but shouldn’t there be a Slayer Friendly network as well?

When this sticker is seen, that Slayer fan knows there is a safe place to sacrifice babies, drink blood, and discuss interest in the subject of Satanism.

Tips for being Slayer Friendly:

- Look for Slayer fans.
- Don’t judge them for their interest in death.
- Don’t cut them off. They will do experiments with your body like the “Angel of Death” Nazi physician, Josef Mengele.
- Tune your guitar and bass to Drop D.
- Give them some extra room. Songs at 250 beats per minute take space to play and enjoy.
- Kill, but be aware of road rage.

So far my own SXSW experience has been far from ideal, for reasons that are largely unrelated to the music. One of the big downers has been the nagging migraine I’ve been dealing with since before my flight - headaches and loud music don’t mix.

Mala Suerte

Musically things have been great, with only two of the acts I’ve seen being ones I’ve seen before. Highlights include Film School, The Blacks, Robyn, Silje Nes, and Black Spade, the latter two with recent albums that are definitely worthy of a listen. More on them when I’m not rushing to get out for some music.

Last night I caught two of the acts I’m missing in Seattle by being here this weekend and if you were hesitating on either show, you can attend with confidence. Here’s video of Boyz Noise (crowdsurfing within the first ninety seconds!), playing tonight’s Broken Disco at Chop Suey, another of Flying Lotus freestyling on his sampler, which he’ll likely do Saturday at Chop Suey. Both worth your money and time, with Boyz Noise displaying more variety than expected, and Flying Lotus confidently dwelling in next-level territory. Behind the jump are two other vids of Black Ghosts, who play Nectar on March 20th, and another of British MC Sway, who drops my name as part of a freestyle.

Note - All of these are pretty dark. Limitation of the equipment at-hand.

Pics on Flickr.

Boyz Noise:

Flying Lotus:

Continue reading "Video Previews From SXSW" »

Uploaded to the Flickr Pool by shitbrain.

USE and Pleaseasaur are opening. It’s gonna be a hell of a time. Right now you can only get tickets for the third mezzanine, and even those are almost gone, but we have one pair of GENERAL ADMISSION tickets to give away to one of you lucky Line Out readers.

The show is tomorrow night at the Paramount, 7:30 pm, and it’s all-ages.

To enter, e-mail your full name to lineout@thestranger.com with PUSA TICKETS in the subject line by 3 pm today. The winner will be notified via e-mail.

Good luck!

Firstly, the Stranger Suggests:

Boys Noize
(Music) Tonight’s Broken Disco marks the Seattle debut of Berlin’s Alex Ridha, aka Boys Noize, a standout among the current swell of hard-rocking techno producers. Boys Noize’s debut full-length, Oi Oi Oi, is a relentless electronic beatdown, full of hard- punching drums, thick bass, gnarly synths, and overloaded distortion. It’s also an exhausting hour-long dance party. Boys Noize’s remixes of Feist, Bloc Party, Tiga, and others demonstrate his skill at the boards and his pop crossover tastes. Incite!, a new alias for Decibel Festival’s Sean Horton, opens. (Chop Suey, 1325 E Madison St, 324-8000. 9 pm, $15, 18+.) ERIC GRANDY

Secondly, from this week’s Up & Comings:

^{Kasey Anderson photo by John Meloy}

Kasey Anderson, the Maldives, Massy Ferguson
(High Dive) There are plenty of folks cranking out standard-issue “Americana” these days, but few do it with the panache and power of Kasey Anderson. The fresh-faced Portland troubadour sounds like he’s already lived several lives on latest album The Reckoning. His gravelly voice and insightful songwriting lift his down-and-out characters out of the ordinary and into the realm of legend. Broken hearts and empty bottles might not be the freshest source of inspiration, but they suit Anderson to a tee. One listen and you already feel like you’ve found your new favorite dive bar—well worn, stained by spilled drinks and fallen tears, plenty of Townes Van Zandt on the jukebox. BARBARA MITCHELL

Les Claypool
(Showbox Sodo) Les Claypool’s fingers move so inhumanly fast when he plays his bass that he suffers from a rare form of carpal tunnel syndrome that he calls Magnum Cum Funnel Cake. He carries a lock with him and twists the combination constantly when he’s not playing to keep his tendons warm. As a result, Claypool knows locks. He can pick them. Bandmate and sax lord Skerik says, “Les isn’t a thief or anything, he just happens to be able to pick locks. Like some people can juggle.” Also in the Claypool band are Critters Buggin’s Mike Dillon, Paulo Baldi from Cake, and Eric McFadden. Skerik says, “We’re playing some older Primus songs that haven’t been played in 10 years. We’re also playing Morphine’s ‘Honey White.’” TRENT MOORMAN

Thirdly, Hunger, the Opera, begins it’s two-night run tonight. From the Score:

Hunger recounts the infamous journey of the Donner Party across the American Wild West in 1846. Trapped in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, the party’s animals perished, food ran out, and some succumbed to cannibalism. Sung, spoken, and chanted by Mannisto, the opera’s centerpiece is Tamsen Donner, who bears witness to the party’s slide into helplessness and suffering.

At the end of number three, Baker reminds clarinetist Jesse Canterbury, “You can play with those notes at the end if you want.” Enlisting his compadres in the Tom Baker Quartet—Canterbury, bassist Brian Cobb, and Greg Campbell on horn and percussion—Baker urges everyone to improvise in certain sections. “Here,” says Baker, pointing at the score, “is where we let the players drift off for a few measures.” Instead of random notes, the effect is sparse and spooky.

My buddy had an extra one in his car. I drank it while he drove through a broken guard-rail in the parking garage that we were supposed to pay $5 to leave. I’ve got your EXTREME right here, Eric.

So as it turns out, all attempts at getting media off my camera have proved awful, which means you’ll have to settle for words instead of video. Let’s regurgitate a second day…

J Mascis—It appears that Eric left the French Legation Museum today just in time to miss J. Mascis kick all kinds of ass with a solo set. Not sure whether his acoustic guitar has a killer electric pickup, or whether he simply has the greatest pedal layout in the world, but the guy started each of his few songs with quaint, meandering acoustic picking, only to switch over for some of the most epic rock solos I’ve heard by a guy sitting in a chair.

Eugene Mirman, Todd Barry—Emo’s had the brief “A Bunch of Comedians” showcase today during its day shows. To answer your question from the other day, Eric, Todd Barry did not incorporate his recent airline mishap into his routine. However, he did heckle a sound guy who interrupted his set by taking three minutes to remove a cymbal from the stage. Barry responded by asking what band the guy was working for so that he could reproduce the equivalent asshole moves during their set later in the day. Mirman, meanwhile, made fun of MySpace ads which ask questions that make no sense. (“‘Should Hillary Run For President?’ She’s running, so, you know, that’s insulting.”) He printed out a few samples of his own that he thought would be better—“Are these giraffes gay?” stood out. As a bonus, the friend whose couch I’m crashing on found himself the butt of a zillion jokes when he yelled out mid-set to make fun of a joke about Aerosmith. Did my friend deserve it? I’ll answer that once I’ve left Austin. By the way, during this set, there was a shout-out to Sonic Boom Records courtesy of the T-shirt that clung to Mirman’s belly.

Earthless—Holy ass pants. These guys played at a record store a good 15 minute drive away from downtown Austin, which meant about 12 people witnessed the most intense 44-minute song I’ve ever heard. Earthless would be done a great disservice to be labeled as stoner rock; I once heard them on a Vancouver radio station while waiting for a ferry and made it a personal mission to finally see this band that played epic blues/speed-metal/kraut/glam/rock of the 20-minute-plus variety. (It was a long wait for the ferry.) This trio did not disappoint, complete with a metal drummer who—whoa—understood the concepts of restraint and reduced cymbals, and a bassist who sounded schooled in jazz the way he dictated the band’s rhythm and harmony. After their 8-minute opener made me wonder what kind of insanity I was in for, they tore into a 44-minute ass-peeler, filled with chunks of their latest record but also augmented with new, well-refined sections—early Metallica speed-riffing that collided with the kind of blistering solos that would make Stevie Ray Vaughan puke his white guts out. I’m not necessarily a metal guy, but I can appreciate it, and I’d never heard a metal band with so many points of entry. Thank you, Earthless.

Phosphorescent—Matthew Houck is on an utter roll these days; his semi-solo project is anchored by its best band ever, and it’s hard not to have your heart broken by both his original tunes (“My Dove, My Lamb,” emboldened by many a suspiciously cheery piano section) and his covers (here, Leonard Cohen’s “Memories,” done so well that it might finally convince people to lay off the fucking “Hallelujah”). I cannot wait to post videos of his stuff from the past two days.

Bodies of Water—I’m sad that Eric wasn’t moved nearly as much by their daytime set as the Mohawk crowd was by what was laid bare this evening. The male-female harmonies and erratic songwriting reminded me of BC’s Shapes and Sizes, if they were overtaken by the perky-yet-militant Polyphonic Spree. Eric’s right about the frontwoman, but the excitement I felt from their frequent four-part vocal explosions—often broken into male/female parts before coming together at opportune moments—reminded me of the time I saw a little known band called The Arcade Fire open for The Unicorns back in late ‘04. Song after song proved anthemic with this massive crowd.

Luke Temple—The perfect fit for the Central Presbyterian Church’s daunting size and reverb-loving acoustics. This Brooklyn crooner’s high pitch and minimalist songs wound up sounding so much huger in the cathedral, its empty spaces filling the air and making the chirping keyboards and spare bass drum thumps that much more powerful beneath his fragile voice. A set that requires video to explain. Can’t wait to upload it.

Bon Iver—His voice was blown, though you might not’ve heard so—four out of five people in attendance were too busy talking loudly to actually pay attention to one of the fest’s most hyped acts. Guess you folks spent so much money on your laminated SXSW badges that you forgot to spare a dime or two to pay some respect. Anyway, the band was still able to command a rousing singalong midway through, so I doubt they’re hurting.

Citay—I hate to knock an article by Jon Zwickel about a band from San Fran, his old abode, but I think he got this Stranger piece on Citay pretty wrong. Not that he’ll agree with my take on them, but I heard a bunch of Grateful Dead lovers—you know, from the earliest days, like Aoxomoxoa—making music that was equally inspired by modern instrumentalists who build with walls of noise, such as Mogwai. There are a lot more inspirations in that mess, certainly—some hair metal, some really pretty sections of folk music mixing with dueling guitar solos and swooping keyboard lines… but the final word was that Citay (and, Jesus, what an awful name) was the first band I’ve seen all fest that I wanted to keep seeing. Whose steam didn’t run out right when its abbreviated showcase set time was up. It’s a factor that’s easy to forget when your musical attention span is forcibly shrunken by sets that average out to 25 minutes—“Hey! These weirdos from Denmark with matching raindrop T-shirts must be the next big thing!” Sometimes it takes more than half an album’s worth of material to prove that you’ve got the brass. I will try to see Citay once more—purely for such research reasons, I assure you.

Times New Viking—I figured the band would sound less like they’d been recorded off a tape deck when playing live…not the case. My buddy and I agreed that they sounded at least five times shittier in concert. Their eye-bulger of an intensely (and intentionally) sloppy set ended with a few guys in the front screaming “THANK YOU SO MUCH!” I wish I had more insight to offer about this set, but the way the crowd was swirling around and the way the band’s noise kinda melted into itself, I lost track.

Bedtime.

Has everyone already seen this? I give you, man falls down an escalator:

Do you love the old school political punditry of the McLaughlin Group? Do you also love to party? Andrew W.K. does, so much that he’s written a new song based on the stylings of host John McLaughlin.

Andrew W.K. - “The McLaughlin Groove”

No, I don’t get free t-shirts from Pharell, I don’t get get free drinks from publicists, and I don’t get to see Meneguar, Hot Water Music, or Saul Williams cover U2, but whatever. I’m still cool.

In fact, look at how awesome my life is! I’m at home, fighting some sort of weird cold/flu/exhaustion hybrid, working, and watching a re-run of The Cosby Show. And not only that, but it’s the episode that guest stars Stevie Wonder! So there!

Bug in the Bassbin columnist, Donte Parks, is in Austin too (like everyone else in the world) and he’s been able to snap some shots of the music he’s seen thus far:

^{Silje Nes @ The Velveeta Room}

^{Die!Die!Die! @ Wave}

^{The Ting Tings @ Buffalo Billiards}

Just in from Grandy: “Now Pharell is handing out Rock the Vote T-shirts from a tiny sewing room at the Levi’s Store Fader party. I was close enough to touch him, but I didn’t.”

Well, I hope you at least got a free t-shirt.

Eric Grandy’s currently watching Saul Williams perform in Austin and he just text messaged to say that the poetic hiphop performer just covered U2’s “Sunday Bloody Sunday.”

Crazy!

If you’re longing to be in Austin right now, you can at least pretend you are via justin.tv’s live stream of the Bay Area Takeover’s stage.

Film School just wrapped up on the outside stage, and according to the schedule, Scissors for Lefty is up next in a few minutes. They’re doing soundcheck right now. Check it out.

(Thanks for the tip, Donte.)

Every day at 3 pm I post a random MP3 from The Stranger’s Bands Pages. It may or may not be good. That’s for you to decide.

Today’s song: “Tuesday Morning” by Jibran.

So. Did you like it?

Punknews.org says:

While precious little has been revealed about Radiohead’s success with the donation-suggested model, Nine Inch Nails’ recent experiment has proven quite successful. Despite no marketing and no label, the donation-suggested 36-track album netted the artist a stunning $1,619,420 US.

Meanwhile, Maiden is going to release their new “best of” album for free too. Only their release will self-destruct after three listens, in which case you’ll have to pay for a download if you want to keep listening to it. NME has the full story.

Looks like “Kristen” might get her wish of a music career.

Since her identity was revealed, Dupré’s MySpace page has had more than 5 million profile views – and growing – as of Thursday and the price of the song on Amie Street [an mp3 site that charges based on the popularity of the song] was up to 98 cents. A second single, “Move ya Body,” also selling for 98 cents, had also been added by Dupré.

But the real question is: When does she get her own version of Flavor of Love?

I can see it now: “We’ve brought attractive men from all over the country to compete for Ashley’s love, but she’s wondering if they can pay the price on For Love or Money—Whore Edition!”

Breakfast today courtesy of Mr Natural, a weird Mexican Health Food Store/Cafe/Yoga Studio across the highway from downtown. This is what my greezy, yummy soy chorizo tacos looked like:

^{Soy grease is good for you, right, Mr Natural?}

Our cabbie was a fan of Mr Natural, so he stayed and ate, and then drove us to our next stop, the All Roads Lead to SXSW Party at the French something-something museum, a big lawned estate dotted with a couple old, colonial buildings.

Bodies of Water was playing. The band is a five piece—guitarist, bassist, two drummers, and a keyboardist—and all but one of the drummers sing, although their keyboardist is clearly the frontwoman. Tall, bird-thin, with bobbed red-brown hair, her high voice and dramatically exaggerated expressions (big grins, wide mock-shocked eyes, hair whipped in front of her face over and over) gave her a certain child-like quality. All their songs rode galloping beats and climaxed with wordlessly melismatic group choruses. One song had her singing about a color palette for sweatshirts—gold, tan, something, and gray. Purple maybe? Pink? Anyway, you could imagine her gathering swatches from American Apparel.

Next up was Vancouver BC’s chamber pop/r&b trio No Kids, whom I’ve already gushed about at some length, at the Emo’s IV Tent. It was kind of the perfect place to see them—Austin was slightly overcast and breezy this morning, making it feel a little more like the NW, and the tent was as sparsely-attended and roomy as No Kid’s songs. They played “For Halloween” and “Listen for It/Courtyard Music.” It wasn’t an acoustic set—they had live drums, electric piano, and another keyboard—but without their little production flourishes, the songs sounded stripped-down and bare; “Listen For It,” for instance, lacked the awesome T-Pain style autotune, but singer Nick Krgovich nailed its vocal run well enough without. Krgovich, by the way, is the very definition of a nerd—not some phony Rivers Coumo-look-I’m-wearing-glasses way, but like straight up Aspbergers syndrome (so hot right now). He’s a hell of a musician, though.

Missed Jens Lekman due to some bad schedule info. Joked about how the massive line-up on 6th street had to be for Vampire Weekend, before realizing that, yes, of course, it was. Honestly, I’d forgotten they were playing this afternoon.

^{Why? being swallowed up by the (blurry) existential dread}

Best set of the day so far belongs to Why?, who played back at the tent, where the weather had warmed up and the crowd had swelled in size. After a ponderously long set-up, the band played some songs from their stellar new album Alopecia as well as a few from Elephant Eyelash, with Yoni sing/rapping and drumming, backed by drums, electric keys, and bass. Lots of skin-tingling good moments: the “Billy the Kid” refrain of “Song of the Sad Assasin,” the double-time rap of “The Fall of Mr Fifths,” the shouted refrain of “your face never forgets a cry” from “Waterfalls.” But by far the best was the closing rendition of “Gemini (Birthday Song).” That’s just a stunning song, deep and resonant, minutely personal yet universal, simultaneously anthemic and subtle. Off topic: Why? has some really cute fans.

The song goes something like:

Making it/This time in life I’m making it. Oh oh/Oh no. Making it/This time in life I’m making it.

That is all I can remember. Who sang these words? What’s the name of the song? It was a one-hit wonder around 1980.

All week, Line Out has been giving away PotUSA prizes. This is just the beginning of some of the freebies to come, and you want to the be the first to hear about it, right? Right! So if you have a Twitter account, follow Line Out and get all the breaking news before anyone else.

We’ll keep you posted when there are heated debates about Rush and Yes and hot polls about Slats, but mostly we’ll use it to announce any breaking news and contests.

If you aren’t familiar with Twitter, it’s a pretty cool application—you sign up (for free) and you can send and receive short updates via your phone or computer. You can let people know what you’re up to (if you want). You can choose to follow your friends so you know what they’re up to too. The BBC is on it, NPR is on it, I think even Obama has an account. All updates can be sent to you via e-mail or directly to your phone, so you don’t even have to be near a computer to know the latest.

Don’t worry, if you start following Line Out, you won’t be getting spammed constantly with every post to go up throughout the day. It’ll be a few updates a week, and used especially if there’s breaking or exciting news.

Log on to twitter.com to sign up to get your free Twitter account, or click here if you’re already on Twitter and want to start following Line Out (or just want to see more of what it’s all about).

Who needs music conferences and stages to rock? The Nord Micro Modular is a four knob video-tape sized interface that lets you twist and tweak your way into rock, right there in the comfort of your very own bedroom.

Dr. Heavy (a.k.a. Mike Todd) is an engineer / tech / musician who knows the internal workings of gear and systems. He’s a synth specialist who isn’t afraid to go hard and loud. The band in which he uses his Nord Micro Modular is called Phase 3.

Before you kick my ass, can you talk about something small in your world of sound that brings you joy?
Dr. Heavy: Yes, I can. And it’s the Nord Micro Modular. I use it as a sound generator. It’s four knobs, it’s small, and it’s affordable. It works like a modular synth. You pick a filter or an envelope, choose your programming option, and go. The Micro Modular can make up to 99 patches. You can use it as efx unit, a stand alone sound generator, or hook a keyboard up to it and play it with MIDI.

And it’s tiny right?
Yeah. About the size of a VHS tape. I go direct into the mixer, run it through an efx pedal and a looping pedal, and have all the gear in a backpack. Get your Nord Micro, a couple cables, a pedal, and you can do a whole show. It mimics what a modular synth would do. You create how the patches will sound. Instead of having the normal synth rules, you can come up with your own.

What’s the Phase 3 set up?
We’re a Turntable DJ who runs stereo out, two Kaoss pads, a Micro Nord, and a Boss RC-20XL looping pedal. One other person uses actual modular synth, an electro harmonics looper, and a Kaoss pad. It’s more ambient sounding. We do have some beats, but they’re glitchy and electronic sounds. The DJ messes with kid’s records and medical records, and educational records.

Did you say educational records?
Yeah, you know, stuff about fog and anatomy. He puts two needles next to each other, and plays two grooves on the same record at the same time. It sounds really twisted. He puts pieces of wood under the record to create skips on the vinyl and does rhythmic things with those.

All this gear talk, I knew you’d be talking about wood at some point. Is it good wood? What kind of wood does he use? Tell me about his wood.
No, actually, this is where I kick your ass.

Here’s a video of Dr. Heavy in action with his Nord Micro Modular:

Nectar’s booker Colin Johnson just sent out a press release introducing the club’s new local booker, Patrick Haenelt. It reads:

Nectar Lounge is pleased to announce the latest addition to the Nectar team. Patrick Haenelt begins duties this week as Nectar’s local booker, bringing with him years of experience in booking and promotions. Working both directly on behalf of music venues, as well as independently thru his production company Sensory Effect, Patrick’s wealth of musical knowledge is staggering.

Relocating to Seattle from Portland 7 years ago, where he handled booking for Portland clubs Cobalt Lounge and OHM, Patrick pursued his own endeavors as Sensory Effect, an independent promotion company that’s specialized in bringing predominantly electronic events to Seattle such as The Books, Jaime Lidell, Prefuse 73 and more. Patrick spearheaded Oscillate, a weekly electronic music showcase held at the Baltic Room, for 3.5 years and is one of the founding parties of the popular Broken Disco night.

Not to pigeonholed as having simply electronic tastes, Patrick has years of booking indie rock, hip-hop, and more on both a national and local level making him a perfect fit for the diversity of bookings that Nectar currently enjoys. 2008 promises to be an exciting time for us as he joins National Talent Buyer Colin Johnson as we continue on the path of bringing the best, and most diverse, range of national and local talent to Fremont!

All I know is that since Johnson went over to Nectar from Chop Suey last year, the club’s booking has been getting better and better—lots of local support, much appreciated hiphop and dance nights. Sounds like Haenelt’s experience in the Northwest could make their programming even stronger. Viva la Fremont.

Tuesday you had a chance to win an autographed copy of the new record, yesterday you had a chance to win one of their new t-shirts, designed by singer Chris Ballew. Both those contests are over (congratulations to Michael, who won the t-shirt!), but today you still have a chance to get something for free!

Up for grabs is a copy of the 10-year anniversary edition of the Presidents of the USA’s first record, 1995’s self-titled hit! The record features “Kick Out the Jams,” “Naked and Famous,” “Peaches,” “Lump,” and more. This version also includes over a dozen bonus tracks and a DVD of the band’s videos, including the second video for the song “Lump.” And the band will sign it too. Woot!

Want it? Just send an e-mail to lineout@thestranger.com with SHE’S LUMP in the subject line. The winner will be chosen at random and notified via e-mail. Include your mailing address, please, so we can send it to you (we won’t give your address away, promise).

If you listen to 107.7 the End with any sort of regularity, you’ve probably noticed the staff change that recently went down over there. Earlier this week both Jim Keller and DJ No Name were let go from the station, and five-year long evening host harms was pulled from his 6-10 slot to move over as the station’s new Programming Director. He’s always been working behind the scenes during the day and, he says, while he’d prefer to keep doing evenings and is sad to let the shift go, he understands that his new position will require a lot more work and there just isn’t time to do both. He’ll stay on-air, though, doing the New Music show and his podcast.

So what’s left at 107.7 the End? Adam Corolla is still on mornings—being blasted in live from LA. Radio Impulse has replaced No Names 10 am-2pm show. Radio Impulse, says the stations website, is “interactive radio that puts you in control of the airwaves. You can text, im, e-mail or voicemail your requests directly to RADIO IMPULSE, vote for the Song Of The Hour, and interact with The End and other listeners.” (So some dude in Montana can control what we end up hearing in Seattle.) Church of Lazlo is still on from 2-6 pm, and it’s also aired 3-8 pm on 96.5 the Buzz in Kansas City. Jordin Silver is now doing evenings, and then Loveline follows, which is on many other radio stations all over the country.

According to the website, Chris Travis is still hosting the End’s two-hour weekly local show every Sunday from 7-9 pm. So at least we have that. (I contacted him to confirm, but have yet to hear back.) UPDATE: Chris Travis is indeed still hosting the local show. (He also confirmed that he’s at SXSW and he saw one of my favorite bands, Meneguar, last night along with Eric Grandy, and he thought they were fucking awesome. Damn, I’m jealous.)

Why does Seattle have such a hard time keeping radio stations and their programming IN SEATTLE?

My brother has two kids, I have no kids, and so I serve—happily—as kooky uncle/aesthetic godfather to my niece Sarah and nephew Jake. My connection with Jake is primarily comedy-based: I exposed him to his first video of a monkey on roller skates, and we bonded heavily over a photo of nuns riding a log flume.

But my connection with Sarah is all about music. When she was a beautiful bald newborn, I wedged in her in a baby-sized black turtleneck and we shot a spoof of Sinead O’Connor’s “Nothing Compares to You” video (the red light on the camera held her gaze perfectly, and while I hoped she might tear up at the end, ala Sinead, I wasn’t willing to pinch her to make it happen).

Now she’s sixteen, living in Virginia, and after years of me inundating her with music (Blondie, Go-Gos, Hole, Visqueen), she’s just sent me a mix CD. Here’s the tracklist:

“Over the Pond” by the Album Leaf
“Fumble” by Architecture in Helsinki
“I Still Remember” by Bloc Party
“The New Sound” by the Capricorns
“Glass Danse” by the Faint
“Go Junior, Go Senior” by Junior Senior
“Deceptacon” by Le Tigre
“Shield for Your Eyes” by Melt Banana
“Midtown” by the Sea & Cake
“Hotel Song” by Regina Spektor
“Crank That” by Soulja Boy
“Teenage Dirtbag” by Wheatus
“Clowne Town” by Xiu Xiu
“Spinning” by Zero 7

I was thrilled to find I’d only heard three of