The flip of this Flirtations 45, "Need Your Loving," is a solid play—it's always been in my box...till it cracked. Ugh. And I have no idea how it happened. Perhaps from a few years of wear and tear? I play it out often. Or perhaps it was compression stress as I tend to over fill my play box...WHATEVER, it was still cracked and wouldn't play!! Normally I'd just buy another one, but where it once was a $5-10 45, it's not so much anymore—a clean copy now rates around $30; hence my cheap assed, and quite dodgy, fix. For what it's worth, y'all, THE FIX DOES WORK—no clicks, well, not beyond the lead in grooves! Not sure how long this fix will hold tho...
Also: Tho' it's in fashion to call ALL records "vinyl," not all records are made of vinyl. This single is on styrene which is why it cracked so easily and cleanly all the way to the label sticker.
To celebrate their 25th anniversary, Sub Pop just keeps on giving us great things—the label just announced the lineup for Silver Jubil-eve: A 15th Anniversary Comedy Thing (for Charity!), which will take place at the Moore Theater on Friday, July 12, the night before the totally free Silver Jubilee in Georgetown.
The the evening will feature Eugene Mirman, David Cross, H. Jon Benjamin, Kristen Schaal, and Kurt Braunholer. It will be hilarious! It's $25 and tickets go on sale June 7th (that's this Friday!) at 10 am via STGPresents.org.
Line Out: Your Only Source for '90s Cruise News You Can Use!
Matchbox Twenty doesn't give a care if they weren't invited to Mark McGrath's '90s cruise (that included Sugar Ray, the Gin Blossoms, the Verve Pipe, Marcy Playground, and other relics, but was cancelled [despite it's excellent logo] due to cruises being disgusting)—they're having their own damn cruise, featuring no other bands, because MB20 DON'T NEED NO OTHER BANDS.
Here's what you get:
- Accommodations onboard the Carnival Imagination (3-nights) - Matchbox Twenty concerts - Q&A with Matchbox Twenty - Photo session for all guests with Matchbox Twenty - Evening deck parties - All Meals, coffee, tea, iced tea & juices - 24-Hour complimentary room service & pizzeria - Full use of ship facilities: Two pools, whirlpools, fitness center, casino, library, duty-free shopping & all Carnival events - One-hour open-bar cocktail party - And much more
I think I'll sit this one out. I can't even remember what their hits were, and at least half the band seems creepy...
I'd get way down on my well-worn knees and beg the dread gods of gayness and liberality to forgive my wretched soul if I could—but as a ginger, of course I don't have one.
I have no explanation, earthly idea, or acceptable excuse as to why or how Janeane Garofalo fell off the Homosexual Agenda this week. I just totally forgot to mention her! A stroke? Adult onset retardation? Whatever. I should be beaten! Flogged! Shot in the hair! My lips hobbled and impressive testes perforated! For it was indeed my sacred duty and solemn intention to promote the shit out of this event, what with Janeane being generally one of the best things to happen in the history of ever.
She is smart to the point of scary (just LOOK at those thick glasses!), she is funny to the very threshold of wet-your-pants (or somebody else's pants), she is a brave and tireless warrior of intellectual liberality (she's besties with the Clintons and everything!), and she was in Romy and Michele's High School Reunion. (Please to completely ignore her participation in the leaden early-'90s turd that was Reality Bites. Please.)
Tomorrow night, Janeane will grace us all with her wondrous wit and insightful insights in a rare Seattle appearance. Please forgive my foolish error of omission, and don't forget to remember to not forget to see her. God only knows when she shall pass this way again.
The Neptune, 8pm / $22.50 ADV, $25 DOS / All Ages (bar with 21+ ID).
Andy Samberg and Joanna Newsom a few days ago. She's wearin' a ring!!!
I had somehow not noticed that they were even dating. They've been dating for five years! (Also, I just heard about Joanna Newsom last week, so sue me.) But aw, crap, how adorable! Says Us Weekly:
Samberg was smitten with the 31-year-old musician even before they met through mutual friends. "He liked her music and would go to her shows," a pal told Us last year. "He had the biggest crush on her."
Click to see a blown-up picture of that ring! I asked the friend who told me about it if he found out about this by googling "Joanna Newsom proposal ideas" but he vehemently denies it. Meanwhile, Pitchfork wonders if he used the ol' dick-in-a-box for the proposal. Maybe! Champagne all around!
There are few comedians who make me laugh—for that reason, I don't normally think of myself as a comedy fan—but Eddie Pepitone has the magic touch. Steve Feinartz's new documentary about the man, The Bitter Buddha, screened at the Northwest Film Forum for one night only on Saturday with the director and star in attendance for the Q&A afterwards (on Wednesday, Pepitone had performed at Chop Suey).
If you're interested in the work of the New York-born, Los Angeles-based comic—and cat lover!—it's a must-see, though fans of alternative comedy in general are likely to find it of interest since speakers include Patton Oswalt, Jen Kirkman, Zach Galifianakis, Mark Maron, Sarah Silverman, Dana Gould, B.J. Novak, and Matt Oswalt, creator of the great Puddin' Strip web series, in which Pepitone plays a splenetic office drone.
Poor Skrillex! Poor Skrillex's Haircut! While I can't pretend to love the music that comes out of a Skrillex, I decided he is actually a sweet human being by way of the Nardwuar test. If you aren't a complete asshole to Narwuar we he interviews you, then you're alright with me.
Here's the hot hot TMZ coverage of Skrill blowing out the candles on his 25th birthday cake.
How literal is the title to your show, Blind Ambition?
My eyesight has always been just poor—I'm blind in my left eye and have very limited vision in my right. In 2009, I was backed into a corner: I could have two surgeries that might repair some of the damage in my right eye or I could go completely blind. Fortunately, the surgeries worked. When I got off the operating table, I looked down and saw my shoelaces. I'd never seen my shoelaces before without glasses or contact lenses. It was amazing—I felt like I'd won a war with the weakest thing about me. It made me expose and talk about my vulnerabilities. I started talking about these procedures onstage, and it was like a lightbulb went off. People really related to it.
You got your start in Seattle—tell me about it.
I was raised in Las Vegas with my mom and four sisters, but I always wanted a relationship with my old man. I'd never met him—just had a picture of him lying in bed with an Afro and huge sideburns. He was a pimp. So I traced him to Beacon Hill when I was 18 and ended up living in Seattle for seven years.
by Dave Segal
on Fri, Oct 5, 2012 at 10:52 AM
Dubstep’s cultural impact continues to spread. Now the 21st-century musical style sweeping the country's youth with its fearsome bass wobbles and cartoonishly freaky frequencies features—very generically—in a sorta-funny sketch on the Comedy Central show Key & Peele. Here's one exchange between the dubstep fan and his out-of-touch buddy:
"It doesn't really seem like music to me." "What would you rather listen to? I can hook you up with some Hootie & the Blowfish. Color Me Badd?"
I confess to having a nasty affection for tobacco cigarettes, but I don't even think marathon training would've helped me last night when the music of Hooves and Beak suddenly, unexpectedly sucked the oxygen out of the Tractor Tavern. Harper Whitney Flinn has gathered guitar/cello, bass, and drum players since her arrival from Kansas for the 2010 EMP Sound Off!, but what knocked my air out was the difference in strength in her voice now as opposed to then. Without her comedic between song banter ('I'm gonna play a slow song now, try not to get a boner') making me laugh, I might have suffocated there for shortness of breath. I was aghast at her range and confidence. Already possessed of lyrical prowess, and now armed with an indelicate arsenal of harp arpeggios, Whitney Flinn and crew are all ready to start drawing reductive (albeit well-deserved) comparisons to Joanna Newsom (who Whitney cites as her own inspirator), luckily for them, however, people wont have to pretend to like Hooves and Beak. I was more than happy to walk over to the merch table and jump on the email list when she mentioned a new album in the works.
With the Sunday night crowd now swollen to a whopping 30 or 40 people (bands and bartenders included), Song Sparrow Research took to the stage and upped the strings ante by seeing the cello, and raising one stand-up bass to accompany bandleader Hamilton Boyce on electric guitar and vocals. I've waxed before about the way the moody arrangements of these jazz and orchestral trained musicians brand of hushed rock manages to stay plucky enough to take flight on harmonies, and they do not disappoint live. While Boyce's voice rarely rises above an indoor speaking tone, the music is deeply and delicately atmospheric. Evan Woodle flailed and head bobbed at twice the typical ¾ beat like you'd expect a jazz drummer to, keyboard player Ryan Batie could hardly be contained in his playpen of glockenspiel and laptop, David Balatero sat plucking and pulling every available sound from cello (and later the biggest goddamn electric bass I've ever seen), and Kendall Becker kept her eyes shut and felt out the beat on stand up bass with an intensity rarely heard this side of music. Song Sparrow Research moved efficiently through some cuts from their recently released self-titled and some new material under the crowds watchful eye. Their passion for their individual instruments made them a pleasure to watch as well as hear. In a time where big noise has become synonymous with interesting, what little noise they made was attention getting and well orchestrated without being stale.
The lead story in this week's music section is goddamn hilarious. Dave Hernandez, founding bassist and guitarist in the Shins and current member of Little Cuts and the Intelligence, tells honest, funny, embarrassing stories about awkward encounters he's had with Rick Rubin, Ian MacKaye, and David Lovering.
RIck "draped in a white yogi toga wrap" Rubin
The directions to Rubin's place in the Hollywood Hills led our bulky Ford Econoline, filled with sandwich wrappers and dirty socks, up a dangerously steep and curvy one-lane gravel road. Tightly manicured hedges brushed against the oversize van. The further we climbed, the harder it was to imagine what would happen if someone was coming the other way. We finally came to an elaborate wrought-iron gate that looked like it belonged in The Great Gatsby. A voice came through the intercom, and the gate swung open.
After positioning the van between a Bentley and a perfectly restored vintage Triumph, we exited. There was a distinct Disneyland feel to the surroundings—the eerie feeling that everything from cracks in the walls to the air itself had been meticulously engineered. I wanted to run away screaming.
We entered the house just in time to pass Trent Reznor walking away briskly in a black hoodie. Rubin's assistant (who resembled a horny Anton LaVey) guided us through the taxidermy horror show that was the main hall (dead exotic animals completely surrounding us) to the sitting room where we sat in uncomfortable chairs waiting for Rubin. I made sure Phil and I were sitting right next to each other. He was my spirit animal. My giggling, unable-to-stop-fucking-with-me spirit animal.
Rubin entered, and we rose to greet him like he was the pope. He was draped in a white yogi toga robe wrap sort of thing. Huge head, huge beard, huge face... and absolutely the quietest talker ever. He sat like a Buddha and conversed with James Mercer on a number of topics, at one point asking James to scat (James politely turned him down). He told us he needed us to hear his current project and had his assistant turn the stereo on full blast, playing what Phil explained to me was the band Semisonic. We sat in silence watching Rubin rock back and forth, fingering his prayer beads and grinning at us while the ENTIRE ALBUM played from front to back at a deafening level. At some point, I realized I'd made Phil hold my hand. It was all too much.
Louis C.K. just sent out an e-mail announcing a new comedy tour. He's coming to the Paramount on December 20th and 21st, and he's trying something new with the ticketing: You can only buy the tickets through his site, for a flat fee. He's also got what sounds like a promising plan to stick it to the scalpers, which is highly welcome news:
you'll see that if you try to sell the ticket anywhere for anything above the original price, we have the right to cancel your ticket (and refund your money). this is something I intend to enforce. There are some other rules you may find annoying but they are meant to prevent someone who has no intention of seeing the show from buying the ticket and just flipping it for twice the price from a thousand miles away.
Some of these rules may be a pain in your ass, but please be patient. My goal here is that people coming to see my shows are able to pay a fair price and that they be paying just for a ticket. Not also paying an exhorbanant fee for the privalege of buying a ticket.
Tickets across the board, everywhere, are 45 dollars. That's what you'll actually pay. In every case, that will be less than anyone has actually paid to see me (after ticket charges) in about two years and in most cases it's about half of what you paid last year.
The benifit for me is that I won't get angry emails from anyone who paid a ton of money to see me due to circumstances out of my control. That makes me VERY happy. The 45 dollars also includes sales tax, which I'm paying for you. So I'm making more or less depending on the state.
Sounds like certain big bands could learn a thing or two from Louis C.K. (But not spelling. Nobody should learn how to spell from Louis CK, bless his heart.)
Hannibal Buress's Animal Furnace is out today. After knowing nothing about this dude, I threw in the promo copy and laughed my ass off. Then I gave it to my brother and sister-in-law to watch after they put the kids to bed. My sister-in-law said she fell asleep "but that was nice," and my brother said "That dude's hilarious." What does that mean to you? It means WATCH THIS CLIP.
Buress and Ansari clips posted after the jump because they slow down load time for the blog and our web department is too busy playing World of Warcraft to do anything about it.
DJ DOUGGPOUND is a Chicago comedy expert in town with Brent Weinbach and Eliott Maxx tonight (and last night) and tomorrow night at the Comedy Underground. DJ DOUGGPOUND's is the alter-ego of Doug Lussenhop, who is the editor and co-writer for Tim and Eric's Billion Dollar Movie, Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job!, Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job! Chrimbus Special, Funny or Die Presents..., Check It Out! with Dr. Steve Brule as well as editor for Portlandia, Jon Benjamin Has a Van and a buncha other stuff (including editing & voices on the classic G.I. Joe PSAs!).
I sat down with Doug at the Crumpet Shop to unravel the mystery of why he's here and every possible other thing.
How do you feel about Seattle? What have you done here so far?
I like how people dress up here, it's like an outdoorsy celebrity chef kinda vibe, very similar to my style. We creeped over to my favorite place, the Crumpet Shop, now I'm creepin' on some artisan wares at the Pike Street Market. I bought a drug rug from the poncho man.
What can a person expect at the shows you're doing while you're here?
The show is very musical and experimental. Brent Weinbach is probably my favorite comedian.
You're associated with Portlandia, do you feel like this part of the country lives up to the TV show?
Yeah because local comedian Eliot Maxx looks exactly like Fred Armisen.