The Scientists' The Human Jukebox compilation is back on heavy rotation since I shelved it a few years ago, and it left me wanting to investigate more of the early, raw stuff, like "We Had Love," which appeared on the Rock N' Rolla soundtrack, but previously on Blood Red River 1982-1984, and possibly before that.
And this darker joint, "Blood Red River" from the 1983 album of the same name:
I'm guessing this shit won't be that easy to find. I don't really want to buy it from the internet.
I got the Uffie album the other night at KEXP. I laughed with the great Kid Hops about how long it took for her to follow up the annoyingly catchy "Pop The Glock" with a full length(three years), while somebody like Ke$ha is milking that one song's vibe into a terrible career. You could say Uffie's doing the same thing though; I'm pretty sure at the end of this hour I will be one of the many that don't like this album. I didn't think much of it til today when somebody told me to peep the song she did with Pharrell, which was not good; but this shit right here is kinda my jam.
The Diddy line used as chorus is kinda played the fuck out but it works; really it's all about that simple casio dancehall beat and the lil vocal snatchet. Good job, SebastiAn. I'm surprised Kid Cudi or somebody hasn't jumped on it and ruined it yet.
by Dave Segal
on Wed, Jun 30, 2010 at 1:35 PM
Chunklet zine impresario Henry Owings has released an album of Shellac stage banter from countless shows, with an emphasis on bassist Robert Spurr Weston IV's quick-witted question-and-answer sessions, which are bolstered by guitarist/vocalist Steven Frank Albini trademark acerbic commentary. Also, fans of amp buzz will be very satisfied, too.
Sample Albini bit: "How long does it take to cook a baby in a microwave oven? I don't know—I was jacking off at the time."
Shine up your studded jacket and make sure your mohawk is standing up straight—long-time punk rockers GBH are playing and all-ages show at Chop Suey tomorrow night with our own local skate punks the Insurgence and Dreadful Children.
Lately it seems like every time I turn around, another friend or acquaintance has bid adieu to a loved one (WTF, man? Bummer vibes!). With so many couples going splitsville, there’s an especially high demand for spirit-lifting music—sonic balms designed to dissipate the ugly storm-clouds of post-break-up melancholia. There are plenty of weepy, no-brainer break-up songs, but—bolstered by the discovery that Oneohtrix Point Never’s sublime new release Returnal is, in fact, a “break-up album”—I thought I’d share some of my favorite newly-single (and, in one case, newly discovered) jams. This is by no means a comprehensive list (this is a topic that’s been pretty well-covered), but rather a handful of less-obvious, but no less soothing, offerings. Colors Shifting - Christopher Willits
Willits’ Surf Boundaries is an outrageously good album, stuffed to bursting with sun-soaked proggy flourishes and fractal-pattern intricacy. As a break-up album (it was “recorded during the rise and fall of an intense personal relationship” and evokes “the ultimate necessity of letting go”), it’s incredibly comforting—a mellow slice of acid-comedown chillness that really helps puts things in perspective.
“Welcome Singer” by Roger Ferguson “You Can Have It All” by Yo La Tengo “Mini, mini, mini” by Jacques Dutronc “Find Shelter” by Noah Georgeson “McDonalds on the Brain” by Daniel Johnston & Jad Fair “Take Time” by The Books “Seaweed” by Saul Williams “Nevers” by The Fiery Furnaces “I Am The Lion” by Neil Diamond “Two Wives Are Twice The Problem” by Prum Manh “Franz Kafka At The Zoo” by The Clean “Waiting Room” by Holly Golightly “Piddy” by Rodriguez “Acid” by Maja Ratkje “Air War” by Crystal Castles “Virginia Plain” by Roxy Music “Live In Fear” by R. Stevie Moore “Four Freshmen Locked Out As the Sun Goes Down” No Kids “Canvas Home” by Arthur Russell “Breathin Out” by Kurt Vile “Whatcha Doin’” by Phil Elverum & Nick Krgovich “Stout-Hearted Man” by Shooby Taylor, the Human Horn “Whistle Past the Graveyard” by Jeffrey Lewis & the Junkyard “C.R.E.E.P.” by The Fall “Bricks Crumble” by Dalek “Anachronist” by Robert Wyatt
Gretchen to D.W.:
“Hows About Tellin a Story” by Devendra Banhart “Smells Like Teen Spiri” by Patti Smith “The Spaceboy Dream” by Belle & Sebastian “Create Me” by Neil Diamond “Infinity” by The xx “Two Doves” by The Dirty Projectors “If Music Could Cure All That Ails You” by Yacht “Basic Space” by The xx “Twinkle” by Erykah Badu “Nineveh” by David Byrne “Islands” by The xx “Paper Planes” by M.I.A. “No Sense” by Cat Power “The State I Am In” by Belle & Sebastian “Ur” by David Byrne
And here's Gretchen on her YouTube drawings of Kurt.
by Dave Segal
on Wed, Jun 30, 2010 at 12:04 PM
American folk singer Jake Holmes is suing Led Zeppelin for not crediting him as the composer of "Dazed and Confused," which appeared on Zep's 1969 self-titled debut LP. Jimmy Page is listed as the sole composer of the song. Holmes' original appeared on his 1967 album "The Above Ground Sound" of Jake Holmes. The Guardian has the details. Perfect Sound Forever fleshes out the saga here.
Check out the two versions below. Zep definitely put their own powerful stamp on the tune and steered it down unique paths, but they clearly lifted the main melody.
by Dave Segal
on Wed, Jun 30, 2010 at 11:21 AM
The Living Room's Show and Tell night (1355 E. Olive Way, 9 pm, free) hosts two great local producers, Ya No Mas and Gunnar Lockwood. Lockwood is new to me, but the tracks on his SoundCloud page impressed me with their supple, funky techno rhythms and visceral analog textures. His tracks have an elastic, ungridlike quality that's missing from much techno.
Ya No Mas, who is one of the area's most distinctive electro producers, will be performing his last Seattle gig before heading out to live on a California farm and then embarking on a cross-country bicycling trip. We may never see one of this town's quirkiest characters and musicians again. ;_;
by Gina Young
on Wed, Jun 30, 2010 at 10:13 AM
click to enlarge
It's understandable that South Park residents— especially commuters and business owners— are bummed about the closing of the South Park Bridge. (The phrase "Don't turn South Park into a ghetto!" has been thrown around in protest for the last several months.) But what's done is done, and tonight the leaves raise for the last time.
If you want to raise a glass to commemorate the bridge's last splash, there's a big street party tonight with tribal drumming, bag piping, The Pony Boy Antiphonal Street Band and the Trio Lucero del Norte... but be sure to cap off your revelry at the undisputed gem of South Park, Loretta's, with its cheap beer, airstream trailer-cum-VIP booth and ping pong garden.
(Showbox at the Market) "On April 6, 2010, Rhett Miller confirmed through his Twitter that the Old 97's would start making a new record by the end of the week," reports Wikipedia. Ten weeks later, the beloved Texas rockers land at the Showbox at the Market for a set that, if we're lucky, will range from mid-'90s nuggets to hot-shit new stuff. (Also: Attention must be paid to the band's overlooked 2008 release Blame It on Gravity.) Opening the show: Boston's Mexi-folk outfit the David Wax Museum. DAVID SCHMADER
by Dave Segal
on Tue, Jun 29, 2010 at 4:50 PM
New York City graffiti writer/rapper/performance artist/sculptor Rammellzee has died, if Wikipedia and various Twitter feeds are to be believed. His epic classic collab with K-Rob, "Beat Bop," burst into underground consciousness through the crucial documentary Style Wars. Rammellzee's art was rooted in the theory known as Gothic Futurism. He also played in the Death Comet Crew with Stuart Argabright and Michael Diekmann and the Gettovetts, and released his debut album in 2004, Bi-Conicals of the Rammellzee.
Rammellzee's cause of death is unknown at the time of this post.
Rock music, once sexually pioneering, is in the dumps. Black rhythm and blues, born in the Mississippi Delta, was the driving force behind the great hard rock bands of the ’60s, whose cover versions of blues songs were filled with electrifying sexual imagery. The Rolling Stones’ hypnotic recording of Willie Dixon’s “Little Red Rooster,” with its titillating phallic exhibitionism, throbs and shimmers with sultry heat.
But with the huge commercial success of rock, the blues receded as a direct influence on young musicians, who simply imitated the white guitar gods without exploring their roots. Step by step, rock lost its visceral rawness and seductive sensuality. Big-ticket rock, with its well-heeled middle-class audience, is now all superego and no id.
In the 1980s, commercial music boasted a beguiling host of sexy pop chicks like Deborah Harry, Belinda Carlisle, Pat Benatar, and a charmingly ripe Madonna. Late Madonna, in contrast, went bourgeois and turned scrawny. Madonna’s dance-track acolyte, Lady Gaga, with her compulsive overkill, is a high-concept fabrication without an ounce of genuine eroticism.
Sasha Frere-Jones, in his infamous New Yorker piece about the Arcade Fire, the Clash, and why indie rock don't swing, A Paler Shade of White:
As I watched Arcade Fire, I realized that the drummer and the bassist rarely played syncopated patterns or lingered in the low registers. If there is a trace of soul, blues, reggae, or funk in Arcade Fire, it must be philosophical; it certainly isn’t audible. And what I really wanted to hear, after a stretch of raucous sing-alongs, was a bit of swing, some empty space, and palpable bass frequencies—in other words, attributes of African-American popular music.
There’s no point in faulting Arcade Fire for what it doesn’t do; what’s missing from the band’s musical DNA is missing from dozens of other popular and accomplished rock bands’ as well—most of them less entertaining than Arcade Fire. I’ve spent the past decade wondering why rock and roll, the most miscegenated popular music ever to have existed, underwent a racial re-sorting in the nineteen-nineties. Why did so many white rock bands retreat from the ecstatic singing and intense, voicelike guitar tones of the blues, the heavy African downbeat, and the elaborate showmanship that characterized black music of the mid-twentieth century? These are the volatile elements that launched rock and roll, in the nineteen-fifties, when Elvis Presley stole the world away from Pat Boone and moved popular music from the head to the hips.
The important indie bands of the day had about them an air of conscience (though not one of them would have made such a claim for themselves), offering proof that rock could thrive without the hoary clichés of Wrestler rock, which was still regnant at the turn of the decade that sucked. As a result of that air of conscience, the indie music of that period, while rich in variety and blah blah blah, had a collective tendency to abandon, in sound, lyric, and image, the traditional rock 'n' roll mandate of sexual primacy, and that abandonment became more pronounced (or perhaps just seemed more significant) as the strain's cultural influence grew. And because the music we cherish teaches us how to live, it's reasonable to assume that the decreased sexual energy of this music may even have affected the sexual attitudes and behavior, even the desires, of its audience during that period.
And by "its audience," I obviously mean me.
OMG, HOW ARE THE INDIE KIDS EVER GOING TO MOVE THEIR HIPS IN A SEXUAL MANNER EVER AGAIN?!
Because everyone needs to see that bit John Mulaney does about Jerry Orbach's eyeballs; and because I am currently fixated on Nick Kroll to a slightly Single-White-Female degree. But also: Marc Maron! Patton Oswalt! Morgan Murphy! Jimmy Pardo! Chris Hardwick! Greg Behrendt! Donald Glover! Everything else is also good. Pretty much. Full lineup after the jump. Who's ready to wait in some fucking liiines!!?!?
The Seattle Symphony press release (in full after the jump):
SEATTLE SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA NAMES LUDOVIC MORLOT MUSIC DIRECTOR DESIGNATE
Assumes Music Director Post in 2011—2012 Season
Gerard Schwarz Becomes Conductor Laureate in 2011—2012
Seattle, WA — Seattle Symphony Orchestra Board of Directors Chair Leslie Jackson Chihuly and Interim Executive Director Mark McCampbell announced today that French conductor Ludovic Morlot has been named Music Director Designate, beginning in the 2010—2011 season, to assume the role of Music Director at the beginning of the 2011—2012 season with an initial six-year contract. Seattle Symphony’s current Music Director Gerard Schwarz, who has held that role since 1985, will assume the title of Conductor Laureate after his final season in 2010—2011.
Although Mr. Morlot has won positive reviews and is in high demand as a guest conductor, Seattle is taking something of a risk, because he has never had an orchestra of his own. Mr. Morlot said he felt no fear about that, “just pure excitement.”
“The music is ultimately going to be the biggest challenge for me,” he added. “That’s the way I want to look at it.”
Several players in the orchestras he has led described Mr. Morlot as a thoughtful, intuitive musician with a good sense of phrasing and a collaborative manner.
In recent years the Seattle Symphony has appeared to lose momentum as its fellow West Coast heavy hitters, the San Francisco Symphony and Los Angeles Philharmonic, have acquired luster. With Mr. Schwarz’s departure, the Seattle Symphony sees a chance to move forward, said Timothy R. Hale, a violist in the orchestra and the leader of the musicians’ union. One hope, Mr. Hale said, was that of more touring, given Mr. Morlot’s international connections.