In their new video for the song "Diane Young," Vampire Weekend destroy a couple cars, specifically Saab 900s. The band bought the cars from two different owners, without disclosing what they were planning on doing with the vehicles, and now some car enthusiasts are pissed.
Here's the video:
Of couse material things get destroyed all the time in the name of art, and perhaps it would've been more responsible to use cars that weren't running, or just CG that shit and then give the car to someone who could really use it, but alas, that is not what happened. The cars were torched, they're gone forever, whether it was a dick move or not.
Can you believe that Mudhoney have been spewing sweat, spit, and guitar riffs for 25 fucking years? It's true! They're celebrating the occasion with a new album, Vanishing Point, and a record-release show with Unnatural Helpers and Universe People—obviously, it's going to rule.
But the music industry is a ruthless land, and you don't last a quarter of a century without witnessing a lot of ugliness along the way. Bands come and go, sometimes for the better, oftentimes for the worse, and Mudhoney have seen it all.
If the world were fair, all the great bands would manage to survive as long as Mudhoney have, but alas, sometimes the good die young. I asked the boys to tell me about a few bands they wish would have been able to stay the course into their 25th year—they responded with six forgotten Northwest greats that flew under the radar, never achieving the fame they probably deserved. Here's what they said:
Zoot Pickle and the Grudge (1988—1991): The nonstop, gender-bending, funk-fun blast from Renton. Crazy costumes, strange stage secretions? Sunk by the weight of costly operations and artistic differences.
Neanderfuck (1992—1998): The most primitive garage-punk thug band from the Northwest. They made RPA and Extreme Hate look like doily-knitting dilettantes.
Mudhoney's record release show is Saturday, March 30, at Neumos with Unnatural Helpers and Universe People. They're also playing a free, all-ages in-store at Easy Street West Seattle on Monday, April 1.
Some generations are force-fed misremembered vainglory, some are led off the marbled cliffs of excess—let's take a moment to appreciate Manjula Martin's take on John Roderick's punk-failed-me screed, the exceptional parody "The Jazz Age Is Bullshit." Take it away, Martin:
My experience of my youth subculture is indicative of everyone else's experience. I, a heterosexual white male in my 40s, really got what the Jazz Age meant. And jazz definitely meant exactly the same thing to other people as it did to me, especially people of color and women and queer folk and younger generations who came after me. I mean, come on. It's not like jazz provided a viable subculture for youth to turn to at a time when many kids were caught between eras, struggling to figure out what to keep and reject of their parents' worlds while battling the larger economic and geopolitical changes at work in the world, not to mention the common brutality of adolescence.
And it's not like flapperism did anything for women, either. I mean, an entire subset of young women doing the things boys did and wearing short hair and showing their gams without fear certainly didn't provide other young women with a vision of life beyond the oppressive gender and sexual norms of the past. I mean, people don't even wear corsets anymore, so what's even the point of the so-called flapper rebellion?
Breaking news! Stone Temple Pilots have fired Scott Weiland!
The band said, simply, via press release: "Stone Temple Pilots have announced they have officially terminated Scott Weiland."
And it turns out Weiland didn't find out about his termination until this morning, when the rest of us did. He tells Rolling Stone:
'I learned of my supposed "termination" from Stone Temple Pilots this morning by reading about it in the press. Not sure how I can be "terminated" from a band that I founded, fronted and co-wrote many of its biggest hits, but that’s something for the lawyers to figure out. In the meantime, I’m looking forward to seeing all of my fans on my solo tour which starts this Friday.
When faced with POPE GOSSIP THIS HOT last night, there was nothing left to do but make a Spotify playlist. It's an hour long, but there must be so many more songs that would be perfect for the Sexy Pope Gossip Playlist! Anything missing?
"Journalist David Gibson, who wrote the latest biography on Pope Benedict, said the Pope's resignation was likely due to numerous factors, mainly revolving around the internal problems of the Vatican, of which sexual shenanigans were likely one."
Megan mentioned the alleged drive-by executed on Rick Ross a few days back, and it's getting some scrutiny:
According to the report, the shooting occurred at 5 a.m. near the intersection of Southwest 15th Avenue and East Las Olas Boulevard. Ross is reported to have heard multiple gunshots fired in his direction, lost control of his luxury car and crashed into an apartment building. There were no injuries and the suspects fled the scene; some media outlets are even reporting that the car miraculously wasn't hit by any bullets.
Upon seeing hearing that last part, 50 Cent, the pinnacle of authenticity, took to Twitter and started shooting internet-tweet bullets. It probably doesn't have anything to do with the fact that he just released a record, either.
As for Ross's Twitter activity, he "hasn't logged onto to the social networking site since the shooting but spent the better part of the night retweeting b-day messages from his flock." Twitter game got real.
Cat (THEESatisfaction): There was this show on Mars—I regret not being able to do it.
The Lonely Forest: We deeply regret trusting major label executives.
Brian Foss (Funhouse owner): I regret that I am not a millionaire, so I was unable to buy the building the Funhouse was in.
Wimps: Wimps regret to inform you that: An all-pizza diet does actually provide you with all your daily nutrients. Sometimes, venues think it's acceptable to pay a band in breakfast pastries. Motel microwaves aren't the best appliances to use when drying wet underpants. A hot dog can't actually ride a skateboard. Our next album will be all freestyle raps. In 2012, good venues closed and good people passed on—they will be missed.
Nathan Chambers (Rendezvous booker): I regret wearing "skinny jeans." That's right, Levi's 511s, I quit you. No more will I awkwardly adjust the dangly bits or struggle to take you off after a night of drinking. The holes you get only in the crotch have shamed me long enough. Your tyranny of uncomfortable cool is over. Viva la dad-washed 501s.
Joe Axler (Samothrace/Skarp): I regret looking at Facebook this morning after not having time to see the season finale of Sons of Anarchy last night. Thanks, spoiling assholes.
So, for years I've been all proud that the only song I can sing ka-rakaroke style is "House of the Rising Sun," as rendered in 1964 by Eric Burdon's the Animals. (The song is a traditional number whose "origins are believed to date back to the 17th century" and has been reinterpreted by many over the years.) But lately, I've been clueing in that this number is not the best route to take in a party-zone/horrible-singing bonanza. The reasons are at least two-fold:
1) The lyrics! Like those of many old folk/blues standards that proliferated in the American South (ever heard the Leadbelly version of "In the Pines," which you likely know from Kurt Cobain?), are a TOTAL BUMMER. Various accounts carry that "Sun" is about "the life of ruin following exposure to an opium den," but I've always thought of it as a tale of a traveling salesman father and a prostitute mother. Either way, the first known recording of the song is downright eerie:
2) The instrumental breaks! Despite how people might repsond when you belt out the first few lines of "Sun," there comes the inevitable instrumental break. They come often in the song, and they are not short. These parts wash over the party-ready crowd like a net of frowns. Worse, you don't know what the fuck to do with yourself when they're plodding along. It'd be one thing if the crowd were screaming for you, but at this point they're already kind of wondering why the hell you've chosen this song. You might as well have chosen "The End" and wished everyone a depressing walk home. Fuck off, guy!
18.5 What do you have to say about the 1989 incident involving Washington DC Mayor Marion Barry who was caught on video smoking crack in a Ramada Inn? In ’94, they re-elected him. In 2002 they found traces of coke and weed in his car. And re-elected him. Then I think they caught him doing cocaine again, and made a wax statue of him. He could literally smoke crack and win elections.
Samantha Wood: The part that really gets me is the wax statue.
8. What is a unique habit or talent you have?
Andy King: I can identify just about any aircraft, not joking.
9. Do you like regular shrimp?
SW: I draw the line at cocktail shrimp. They're creepy.
by Kelly O
on Fri, Oct 26, 2012 at 11:30 AM
One of may favorite-ist local labels made a lil' video in honor of Hallow's Eve. I love the song—"It's Bad" by Absolute Monarchs. Halloween ain't nothin' but "good" bad.
The idea for Best Saturday Ever was conceived by Good to Die Productions mainman Jerry Howard, and was shot and edited by Wes Johnson. Though not an official music video, Best Saturday Ever also features "It's Bad" by Good to Die Records band Absolute Monarchs. Debut album "1" is available now on LP/CD/Digital.
(Funhouse) Seattle trash punks the Trashies have a song called "Steal Your Bike." Recently, much to the dismay of bassist Andrew Sullivan (aka Billy Goat Trash), the song hit a little too close to home. "I caught a man in the act of stealing my bike at Bartell Drugs at the Harvard Market. The thief was riding away, when I caught him from behind, and got my bike back." The Trashies are exactly the sort of band that will chase you down and knock you off a stolen bicycle. That's what makes them so good. Don't miss this last opportunity to see them in Seattle's trashiest and best (and about to close its doors) punk club, the Funhouse.
Woohoo! We were not actually kidding last week when we sort of implied that this might be a regular thing, where we go through our purses/desks/shorts pockets on Friday night and find you cool treasures, then ask you a dumb question so you can WIN THE PRIZE!!! Dedicated to you Line Outers who work late at a desk on Friday nights, or who read the blog on the weekend. Go you!
Also, a bit of Housekeeping: Hey there, last week's winner, carnivorous chicken, wanna contact us to pick up your stuff? Just like Santa, we love giving you free stuff, if you sit on our laps and stay on your very best behavior! Those fries aren't gonna eat themselves!
This week's prize package only contains two items, but one of them is HOT HOT HOT enough to put behind a jump, because BOOBZ. You're welcome! The prize package contains:
ONE (1) pack of glue-on fake nails, French Manicure-style. Oooh, classy! Says music editor Emily Nokes, "Those nails have touched Gary Smith's torso." It's true!
and ONE (1) very special, Spanish-language, lesbian edition card game called, appropriately, "¡SEXO!"
Redeem your prize by leaving the answer to this question, which honors our spirit animal Alanis Morissette, in comments (we'll alert the winner here in comments on Monday, when we sober up again):
What fellow '90s icons played guitar and bass on Alanis Morissette's best-karaoke-song-ever hit "You Oughta Know"?
Throwing Down on the Puget Sound: Seattle rap artist, Raz drops his new video "Brave" with some North West flavah. Give the man some props, yo.
Gay Paris!: Do you like music? Do you like bagguettes and berrets? Do you wanna go to Paris? Then enter to win tickets and more to Pitchfork Music Festival Paris! Entries accepted until October 12th.
Discount Grind: Metal label, Earache is offering an 8GB USB stick stocked with almost 2,000 songs from their back catalog for only $160. Let the good times roll!
When Forever Comes Crashing: Good deals aplenty today! You can stream Converge's new album, All We Love We Leave Behind for free right here.
Try This At Home: Watch as this Rube Goldberg machine answers the age old question: How many people does it take to turn on a television?
Sexy Hulkster: Here's a drinking game: Every time Hulk Hogan mentions "Nick" or complains of a full belly in this edited sex flick, you knock one back. By the way, You're awesome.
Obama and Romney Get Their Song On: While you were hurling obscenities and empty beer cans at the televised presidential debates last night, the Gregory Brothers were busy compiling those soapbox statements into an auto-tuned visual orchestra.
This is the inaugural edition of the "Fuck, It's Late, We're Bored, Everybody Left in the Office Donate One Thing to This Pile" Line Out trivia contest! This goes out to you, people who work late on Fridays (we're sorry!) and people who read Line Out on the weekend (that's dedication!).
Trivia Question: What song did Negative Approach's John Brannon sing at karaoke in New Orleans last June?
One lucky winner will receive:
FREE! FREE! FREE! Enter now!
· A signed* copy of Wilson Phillips's newest album, Dedicated! · One Caffé Vita gift card with "like, a dollar" on it! · One WINNING Lucky Kelly O™ Scratch ticket (value: $1)! · A McDonald's Monopoly sticker thing for a FREE medium fries! · A coupon for a free 7-Eleven brand bag of chips!
Leave your answer and/or dumb jokes in the comments! Winner will be chosen at random and notified in the comments, and can pick up the prize package at our offices. IT'S FRIDAY! HAVE A GOOD WEEKEND! GOOD NIGHT!
This past Friday, the great and mythical Willie Nelson played the Puyallup Fair. The show was on the heels of an August scare, where the 79-year-old Nelson was hospitalized for breathing problems. He was supposed to appear at an animal shelter fundraiser in Denver, CO but had to cancel when he woke up with breathing complications due to high altitude and emphysema. Line Out correspondent Josh Dixon was at the Puyallup show, and made the following observations:
- The grandstands were full of happy fans in cowboy hats. More cowboys, cowgirls, and state fair goers were in the dirt in front of the stage for a more intimate Willie experience.
- Willie and his family band looked good and played well. Although they've been on the road forever, the show wasn't a predictable medley of worn out tunes. Instead, it was a great take on a wonderful catalog of classics that span six decades.
- Willie can play guitar with the best of ‘em. Soloing and picking sublimely, making a sound that only he and his guitar Trigger can produce.
- Toward the end of the show, Willie played "Roll Me Up and Smoke Me When I Die." (The studio version FEATURES SNOOP DOGG —Trent). The rodeo ring smelled of reefer and I heard a bull rider in Wranglers and a Stetson laugh and say, "Wish I had some."
- There were fireworks and the harvest moon lit up the night sky as Willie thanked the crowd and signed anything passed his way. I walked out of the rodeo into the fairground and found a corndog. Willie’s bus was soon gone and he was... on the road again.
Feeding People have been playing every festival and psych rock gathering from LA to Austin the last year, and somehow also found the time to fit in a recording session at Johnny Bell's (yeah, Crystal Antler's Johnny Bell) new home studio. While the fulcrum of Feeding People's music has always been the concussive resonance of lead singer Jessi Jone's achingly beautiful voice, the likes of which hasn't been heard since 60,000,000 Buffalo's Judy Roderick (but which every music writer from Seattle to Austin will say sounds like Grace Slick or Janis Joplin, you get the point), what's special about this new EP is the evidence of especially siginificant growth from the band altogether. Two of the tracks on the EP are instrumental, yet do not suffer whatsoever without the vocals, and I'd say even add the the solidarity of the effort.
Like a good record geek, the B-side is already my favorite, it's called "Silent Violent" and plays like a medley of the last 60 years of music condensed into four minutes and six seconds. It showcases the abilities of the band, from Jessi's delicate, indoor volume, folk songstress voice all the way up to her batshit crazy, "you'll never make it out of this mushroom overdose" banshee wail. The band beats behind her with a force that makes your primal urges stand on end and will likely have that dead animal inside your heart jumping out of its stupid human skin. Then, just when you think you know them, the whole song breaks down into a honky-tonk outro that proclaims, if nothing else, that these kids have been studying hard.
I'd love to drop a clip on you, but Feeding People have gone the way of the ancients they so well represent and made their EP available via vinyl directly from Innovative Leisure or for purchase on that "iTunes" the kids are using. You'll have to dig in the digital record crates yourself to get a listen, or wait until early 2013 to get the whole album. If you don't have time for all that, atleast give their track Big Mother below to get your priorities straight:
A shopping scooter (or "Mart-Cart") apparently escaped from a Central District grocery store last night before running out of batteries three blocks away. It was later spotted on the other side of the street looking forlorn. Hope you make it home lil' buddy!
Just minutes ago Seattle band Mountainss rolled up outside one of the Block Party exits on 11th Ave and confused/shocked/entertained/enthralled onlookers with their maze of experimental/nutso/math rock. A small circle of people grew into dozens, then maybe hundreds? Or at least a hundred. Bubbles were blown, beach balls were thrown, and jaws were dropped.