Build A Body With Bands

Earlier this week, my friend Nathan, from the fabulous band Gossip, came up with an idea to try to form a whole body out of band names. He offered up these initial suggestions:

Leggs, Inc.
The Eyes
Long Hind Legs
No Neck Blues Band
Limp Wrist
P---- Galore
The D----

This half-formed body is mostly legs and genitals thus far, so we need some help completing the task. And, since the concept is abstract, there's no reason to have the figure be correctly proportioned. Our body of bands can have 10 heads and 20 arms, but the goal is to have at least one of everything. Is it possible? Let's try.

I'll get us started with some Flaming Lips and Crooked Fingers.

Oh, and there's one more aspect to this challenge: Once our body of bands is formed, I'll compile the list and ask people to make illustrations of the result.

10:32 AM ET | 10-30-2009 | permalink

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Chuck Biscuits Is Alive? Reports Of His Death Were Part Of An Apparent Hoax

Though an official announcement has yet to materialize, according to the NME, Black Flag drummer Chuck Biscuits is most likely alive.

Apparently, news of his death was part of an elaborate hoax played upon Brooklyn-based freelance journalist James Greene Jr. The hoax was then perpetuated by eager bloggers, including myself, who jumped on the news without immediately realizing that everyone's source, from the NME to The Boston Herald, was the obituary itself.

My apologies for not waiting for confirmation.

For more thoughts on the hoax, here's a piece in Brooklyn Vegan.

As a postscript, James Greene Jr. has just posted on his blog that Biscuits' death was, in fact, a hoax. Apparently, he has heard from Chuck's brother. As for me, until Chuck Biscuits is sitting next to me as I type this, I still won't know for sure.

9:43 AM ET | 10-30-2009 | permalink

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Chuck Biscuits: 1965-2009

**UPDATE: There are rumors that the news of Biscuits' death is a hoax.**

NME.com is also reporting the possibility of a hoax.

Chuck Biscuits, the legendary punk and hard-rock drummer, has died after a prolonged battle with throat cancer. He was 44.

Here is an obituary of the artist, written by James Greene Jr. Biscuits was best known for his work with Black Flag and Danzig, but he also lent his talents to Run-DMC, Social Distortion and Circle Jerks.

Here are a few videos showing Chuck at his finest. R.I.P.

12:47 PM ET | 10-29-2009 | permalink

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Best Music Writing 2009: Book Launch Event In NYC

It is thanks to you and the fine folks at NPR Music that I've been fortunate enough to write this blog for the last two years. I am proud to announce that four of my Monitor Mix pieces made it into Best Music Writing 2009, guest-edited by Greil Marcus and published by Da Capo Press. To celebrate the release of the book, there's a launch event on Monday, Nov. 2.

Finally, special thanks to my editors, Robin Hilton and Stephen Thompson.

Details from Da Capo:

On Nov. 2 at 7 p.m., we'll have the launch event for Best Music Writing 2009 (the 10th-anniversary edition) at Housing Works Bookstore.

Guest editor Greil Marcus will be on hand to talk about his selections for this year's book, and we'll have readings from the following BMW2009 authors:

Josh Eells
Charles Talyor
Carrie Brownstein
Jace Clayton
Jody Rosen
Paul Ford
Nick Sylvester
William Hogeland
Jesse Serwer

Monday, Nov. 2, 2009, 7 p.m.
Housing Works Cafe
126 Crosby Street, New York
Free (books to donate highly encouraged)

9:55 AM ET | 10-29-2009 | permalink

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The Buddha Machine: Fighting The Noise With Noise

This past weekend, I went to a wedding wherein our parting gifts were the fabulous FM3 Buddha Machines. (Somehow, I managed to leave with three.) The devices, created in 2005 by Beijing-based electronic musicians Christiaan Virant and Zhang Jian, resemble a cross between transistor radios and so-bright-they-could-be-edible decorative soaps.

The Buddha Machine consists of audio loops of various lengths that play ad infinitum. There is a schematic on the FM3 Web site that I've yet to fully explore, but that might provide further explanation for the machine heads among you.

All I know is that, since obtaining The Buddha Machine, my life has gotten pretty Zen.

Let me explain.

I am no good at yoga, breathing (the productive kind) or meditation. A massage therapist once told me that the reason my neck muscles hurt was that I relied on them too much for breathing. "Use your diaphragm," she would say, while pressing down on my stomach, the contents of which sloshed around in both protest and embarrassment. (I would make a mental note never to eat before a massage again, but I always forgot.) She gave me visualization exercises: streams, rivers, fountains, anything with a steady, even flow to help the air come in, remain unstuck and go back out. The result was less about harmony than feeling like I had to pee. Basically, I spent every $75 hour with her re-learning how to breathe, something I thought I'd mastered at the ripe old age of one second. WRONG! I'm probably not even breathing now.

Then, in college, I tried yoga with one of my best friends. Our instructor, who spent a lot of time talking about her seafaring adventures aboard Scandinavian cruise ships, had given herself a yoga-moniker (her new last name now rhymed with "karma") in order to further her legitimacy as a guide to pretzel-poses. When I was unable to lift my big toe while keeping all my other toes on the floor, I felt too ashamed ever to return.

In a pilates class at my local gym -- one that I was truly enjoying -- some of the more open poses inspired a constant stream of flatulence from one particular man. No matter where I set up my mat, it seemed that I could never get far enough away from his God-given soundtrack. To this day, pilates and a whoopee cushion are interchangeable for me.

And, as for meditation, I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to use that time for grocery lists and pondering the latest episode of Mad Men.

Then came the Buddha Machine! Truly, it's been a miracle. For instance, just this morning, I was bringing my dog back in from a rainy, mushy morning stroll. In the elevator, he rudely barked at a smaller dog, much to the dismay of the owner. Once I got inside, I realized the coffee was too strong and that my hair had shrunk from the weather in a brunette Annie-the-musical sort of way, and without any of the song and dance. But balancing all of these annoyances out were two of my Buddha Machines, which I'd left on before leaving the house, the blue one playing in the bedroom, the green one broadcasting from the kitchen table. Hypnotic, beautiful and indistinguishable from the atmosphere itself, the sounds seemed to drown out not just external noise, but internal static, as well. And when I turned the machines off, I could still hear them, like a vibration, like a note that would not end.

In fact, if I tried hard enough right now, I might even be able to lift my big toe independently of the rest. And take at least one deep breath.

Feel free to share what sorts of music and sounds help you relax.

11:36 AM ET | 10-28-2009 | permalink

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Kill All Redneck Pricks: Karp Lives! 1990-1998

KARP were one of the greatest bands to ever come out of Olympia, Wash. In fact, they were one of the great bands, period.

Here is a sneak preview of an upcoming documentary film currently in the works:

10:38 PM ET | 10-26-2009 | permalink

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Music Go Music

Below are two videos of the band Music Go Music on Face Time.
If I didn't already know this was a current band, I would have no idea when these videos were made.

Enjoy!

7:29 PM ET | 10-26-2009 | permalink

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Five For Friday

10:37 AM ET | 10-23-2009 | permalink

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The Auerglass

Last night, I went to see El Perro del Mar a.k.a Sarah Assbring at The Esopus Space in NYC. The band name literally means "dog of the sea" in Spanish, but in my mind I think of it as Beagle of the Sea.

El Perro Del Mar played only four songs. Her music is not really my cup of tea, so instead, I want to post something that is:

(Courtesy of FaderTV)

9:41 AM ET | 10-23-2009 | permalink

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For Today Only, And When I'm In The Mood For It, The Greatest

Over on the main NPR Music page, they recently ran a feature searching for 50 great singing voices. Asking readers to contribute their own picks, the article garnered an interesting bunch of comments, which are definitely worth a read through if you have a few minutes.

Though it's difficult to separate the notion of "greatest singers" from the objective standpoint that one needs to be at in order to make these sorts of proclamations, it's also apparent how subjective idea of "great" is. While most of us would admit -- or not argue against the fact -- that Billie Holiday and Edith Piaf are two of the greatest singers of all time, what also matters is when we want to hear these voices and in what context. Certainly, what constitutes greatness has to do with our surroundings, our moods, the people in the room with us, the city we are in, the lighting, the vehicle, the movie theatre, the landscape and the activity.

Sometimes we don't even want to listen to the greats -- as deemed by the critics or by the part of us that tacitly acknowledges the musical canon. Sometimes, we'd rather simply be sung to, and for that voice to speak to and embody the specificity of the moment.

Within contemporary music, it's difficult to divorce the singing style from the backing music, melody and song structure. Can a great singer be great in a mediocre band? I can hear a Killers song and think that Brandon Flowers has some vocal chops, but for me to extend that affection onto the band itself is like asking me to enjoy liverwurst just because there's a dollop of whipped cream on top. Maybe that's why a lot of the "great singers" aren't or weren't in bands, from Marian Anderson to Paul Robeson. (On a side note, it's funny to ponder whether we'd all love Nina Simone as much if she'd been the lead singer of Herman's Hermits. Well, that's one of the strangest sentences I've ever written.)

Personally, I need to break down the notion of greatness into categories that acknowledge the nuances and vicissitudes of taste:

For example:

Greatest Deep-Voiced Manly Style Voice: Stephin Merritt
Greatest I-Can-Make-You-Cry-When-You-Least-Expect-It Voice: Jackson C. Frank
Greatest Wack-a-Doo Voice: Kate Bush
Greatest Smart-Sounding Voice: Stephen Malkmus, Elvis Costello (tie)
Greatest You'll-Never-Be-As-Cool-As-Me Voice: Iggy Pop

And so forth and so on.
Please contribute your own categories and subsequent winners.

3:50 PM ET | 10-22-2009 | permalink

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Google To Unveil Music Search

It comes as no surprise that it was the record companies that proposed the idea for Google to launch a music search page that comes with an option to purchase music. Though the official announcement won't be made until next Wednesday, and we still don't know when the search will be available, perhaps this is good news for all artists.

Obviously, the ability to buy music online -- or to be redirected to a page on which one can buy music -- already exists. You go to a Web site, read about and listen to a band, and then follow a link to buy its song or album. However, the process has yet to be as simple as typing a name into Google. In other words, when it comes to search engines, the "buy" option comes later (after a bit of exploration), but soon buying will come first, or nearly first.

According to Reuters:

"The music page will package a musician's or band's image, artwork, news and song previews, along with a way to buy songs."

Again, I think this is good news for bands and musicians. In some ways, the new model makes Google more like iTunes or other online music stores, wherein the aim is purchasing, not just sampling. But I hope that it's not just bigger bands and labels who are able to make the most of the new search option. I suppose we'll find out...

1:50 PM ET | 10-21-2009 | permalink

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Halloween Costume Idea No. 1

From HalloweenCostumes4U:

"She's sure to turn heads when she wears this stylish Riot Grrrl Child's Halloween Costume. The Riot Grrrl costume includes the vinyl spike detailed dress and studded belt as shown. Add the Camo Girl boot tops as seen below and she'll be ready to riot in style."

10:31 AM ET | 10-21-2009 | permalink

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The Symphony Of Science

From the Symphony of Science Web site:

"The Symphony of Science is a musical project by John Boswell designed to deliver scientific knowledge and philosophy in musical form."

One of my favorite parts of the "We Are All Connected" video is how Bill Nye's enthusiastic gesticulating -- coupled with the camera angle -- perfectly emulates certain hip-hop stylings. Once you get past the nerd factor of it all, The Symphony of Science's concept is really quite beautiful and amazing in both its sincerity and aims.

4:01 PM ET | 10-20-2009 | permalink

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Lullabies For Adults

The folks over at Rockabye Baby! -- who turn everything from Queen to Aerosmith into child-friendly lullabies -- are aiming to infantilize Guns N' Roses next. Hard-rocking, balls-to-the-wall, guitar-laden tracks such as "Sweet Child O' Mine" and "Welcome to the Jungle" will soon be reinterpreted with harps, bells and xylophones.

As far as I'm concerned, these efforts to expose children to reggae-less versions of Bob Marley and cocaine-free versions of The Eagles has much more to do with the parents than with the kids themselves. I mean, do The Beatles and The Beach Boys really need to be more kid-friendly than they already are? Perhaps it's the adults who want things quieter and softer, who need the guitar turned down and the harp turned up, who need to be soothed after a long day of work and would rather stay home and watch Parks and Recreation than go to a rock show. And now, thanks to Rockabye, they can listen to benign, enervated versions of their old favorites and claim it was their kids who made them do it.

I'm pretty sure the people over at Rockabye agree; they know they're marketing to parents and not to babies. Here's the description of their Led Zeppelin album: "Close the doors and put out the light. This evening, your child's sonic bedtime story consists of a delicate dreamscape woven by the heavens and forged by the hammer of the gods. Hasn't it been a long time since you rock & rolled?"

My favorite part of the Rockabye Baby! site is a box containing a "community poll" that asks: "Who should we Rockabye next?" The use of rockabye as a verb is brilliant. Personally, I would take it one step further and make the word an adjective, as well. For instance, "rockabye" should definitely be applied to bands and artists who have lost all their edge -- or who never even had it in the first place. As in, "Grizzly Bear? They're cool, if you like rockabye."

I think the people at Rockabye are on to something, and it's not babies; it's us.

10:14 AM ET | 10-20-2009 | permalink

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Concert Review: Viv Albertine Of The Slits

On Friday, I saw Viv Albertine of The Slits, Softpower (featuring Mary Timony) and The Raincoats play at the Knitting Factory in Brooklyn. How do I feel? Lucky.

As I wrote last week on this blog, The Raincoats influenced nearly every musician that sprang forth from Olympia and countless other similar towns and scenes across the U.S. Needless to say -- or perhaps I do need to say it -- so did The Slits.

So, at the Knitting Factory on Friday, watching not The Raincoats (who were fantastic, by the way) but Viv Albertine, I realized I hadn't really witnessed fearlessness in a long time, at least not at a rock show. As one of my friends put it, more succinctly: "This was one of the punkest things I have ever seen."

Here's what I'm talking about:

(For a version wherein the guitar sounds better but you can't hear the vocals as well, click here.)

If there is a voice in music that's seldom heard, it's that of a middle-aged woman singing about the trappings of motherhood, traditions and marriage. A woman who isn't trying to please or nurture anyone, but who instead illuminates a lifestyle that's so ubiquitous as to be rendered nearly invisible. She places in front of you -- serves you up -- an image of the repressive side of domesticity, the stifling nature of the mundane, and turns every comfort and assumption you hold on its head. It raises questions that no one wants to ask a wife or a mother, particularly one's own. Are you happy? Was I enough? What are you sacrificing, and are those sacrifices worth it? And when someone is brave enough -- honest enough -- to confront the difficulty of it all, the strange, often irreconcilable dichotomy of being a mother and an artist, a woman and an artist (and why should it be a dichotomy?), frankly, it's scary as hell. It makes people uncomfortable. And this sentiment of unease, especially coming from a woman in her 50s, sounds somewhat silly, even juvenile. Why? Because after a certain point, we're supposed to feel settled, or at the very least resigned.

As an audience, we can handle teenage girls and young women singing (sexily, coyly, prettily) about heartache and boys and loss, about unfairness, about redemption and about payback. But when an older woman sings of those same subjects, well, it wrecks everything. And, by that, I mean that we have certain expectations of older artists: They can turn into caricatures of their former selves, be campy or kitschy, sing stories of survival and resilience, and deliver pearls of wisdom. But that's about it. So it's shocking when an older woman gets on stage and basically says: This way of living and of being did not work, and the comfort that we all strive for was barely a comfort for me at all.

Viv Albertine did that. She did it with humor and with guts. And you can bet there were people who didn't get it.

I haven't even mentioned that Albertine's guitar playing is beautiful and unsettling in its strangeness. It's not simple, but rather a distortion of the facile. Sort of like the subjects of her songs.

I'll say it again: I felt lucky to be there.

Seen anything punk in a while?

2:01 PM ET | 10-19-2009 | permalink

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Elvis' Hair Sells For $15K

According to the Associated Press:

"A clump of hair believed to have been trimmed from Elvis Presley's head when he joined the Army in 1958 has sold for $15,000 at a Chicago auction house."

I've already written about own my rock 'n' roll memorabilia wish list -- and so have many of you, at least in the comments section. From the Cadillac in The Clash's "Rock the Casbah" video to David Byrne's too-big suit in the Stop Making Sense film, each of us has keepsakes we'd covet.

I want to revisit this idea for a moment. I mean, hair? What does one do with Elvis' hair? Are there body parts of musicians that you would consider buying at an auction? Gene Simmons' tongue, for instance; in other words, at one point does fandom move from cool to just plain creepy?

10:17 AM ET | 10-19-2009 | permalink

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Video: Lightning Dust, I'm Sorry

Back in September, I went down to New York City's Bowery Ballroom to interview Lightning Dust's members before their show. My plan was to engage them in a high-stakes, fast-paced word game. In the end, however, that's not exactly how things turned out. Below is my video apology to the band.

Lightning Dust, I'm Sorry from Carrie Brownstein on Vimeo.

For more info, including tour dates, check out Lightning Dust's page on MySpace.
Lightning Dust is on the fabulous Jagjaguwar label.

2:07 AM ET | 10-16-2009 | permalink

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Concert Outfits: A Brief History

Why are outfits important to the concert-going experience? Perhaps less so as adults, but certainly in our youth, what we wore to shows acted as cultural signifiers. Our clothing exemplified and demonstrated our level of fandom, our knowledge of the artistic and social context from which the band or musician came, who we were, who our friends were and who we wanted to be; or, at least, what we wanted to be perceived as being.

As I've noted on this blog before, Madonna gave the first concert I ever attended: 1985, with my father, Seattle, Virgin Tour, the Beastie Boys as openers. (They were were subsequently booed off stage.) But, really, the important aspect of this fifth-grade experience was what I wore. For starters, I wasn't allowed to wear what I wanted: lace gloves, lace bow in my hair, a sweatshirt with the neck cut out so that it would fall off one of my shoulders. Not seductively, just loosely. But, no, I was too young. Instead, in zipper jeans and an oversized magenta T-shirt -- with sleeves neither long nor short and large enough to be water wings -- I stood next to my dad and watched in awe as a reporter from the Seattle Times interviewed the Madonna look-alikes in line ahead of us. Older, cooler, freer. Never again would I attend a concert with one of my parents.

The night before the tickets went on sale for Sinead O'Connor's 1990 I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got tour, there was a huge sleepover party. That way, everyone could wake up and stand in line together. And what would any self-respecting Sinead O'Connor fans do to show their appreciation for her music? Shave their heads, of course! But if you lived in the suburbs like I did, and you weren't quite willing to commit to the shaved-head look, with the inevitable "So, are you a skinhead or a SHARP?" questions, you would only shave your head underneath other hair. Subtle, daring, and in the winter... brrrrr. From the base of my hairline to halfway down the back of my head, beneath a thick flap of hair where no on could see it, was a glowing, shy, pale scalp. The grow-out process was part Monchichi doll, part Pat the Bunny touch-and-feel book. I couldn't wait to be whole again. Don't ask me how the concert was; I never even went.

1991. Sonic Youth, Nirvana, STP show. (If you think STP stands for Stone Temple Pilots, you would be mistaken.) I got dressed while listening to a Nick Cave CD that my friend's boyfriend brought over. I wore a burgundy flight jacket purchased from the Army/Navy store, black 14-hole Doc Marten combat boots and a tie-dyed (!!) Ramones T-shirt that could not have been sanctioned by the band. Again, my sizing was way off. Perhaps I needed my friends so badly in those days that I made sure there was room for them inside my shirt, just in case. Cut-off jean shorts and leggings completed the look. In a rare, accidental moment of good taste, the leggings were a solid color, as opposed to the horizontal striped sort that were popular in Seattle back then. We listened to Jello Biafra w/ D.O.A. in a Subaru Wagon as we crossed the bridge into the city. Krist Novoselic was wearing a Hawaiian print shirt on stage that night and Sonic Youth was cooler than the next 10 years of my outfits combined.

I've realized that I often mistakenly think back on concerts as having been an experience between the music and me, when in fact the experience was more about my friends and me. That experience was one that began hours, even weeks before the show, often in the form of extraneous activities -- like getting dressed (shaving our heads) or listening to the band's recorded music. Getting ready for the show was as ritualized an activity as the show itself; sometimes, it was the most memorable part of all.

Feel free to share your favorite concert-going outfits and getting-ready rituals that you recall from either way back when or from more recent outings.

1:43 PM ET | 10-15-2009 | permalink

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The Raincoats

What is it about The Raincoats? If you haven't heard of the band, now is the time. (It will be of help to you that Kill Rock Stars has just reissued the band's first LP). If you have listened to The Raincoats' music, then you know that the London-based late-'70s post-punk group -- which has re-formed intermittently over the years and is currently playing another round of shows -- has always inspired a sense of wonder and a sense of worship.

It's difficult for me to pinpoint when I first heard The Raincoats' music. Most certainly, it was in Olympia, wherein all of my major and most informative musical discoveries took place (aside from my sophomore and junior years of high school). In that dreary-weathered town, lit up with bright, unceasing ideas and enthusiasm, there were so many records and shows and bands that tore into my world. The Raincoats didn't so much intrude on my world as make it shimmer. To hear the band's songs for the first time was to light a sparkler in a room, each song a tiny, magnificent and uneven torch. The music had shape and then was shapeless, wonky edges with pure, glowing centers. I would listen and think, "How?"

Only a few of my friends actually owned The Raincoats' albums. They had toured England with their own bands, perhaps even met the members of The Raincoats; they had been gifted the music or were lucky enough to have stumbled upon it in some heavily stocked record store that -- at least at the time -- underpriced every punk and new-wave band featuring a woman. Delta 5, Kleenex, Liliput, Mo-Dettes, Au Pairs, Dolly Mixture: Were these rare singles really only $2? Yes! And I have a record collection to prove it.

It wasn't until 1999 that I found the first Raincoats LP for myself. I was on tour in Athens, Ga., shopping at a record store near The 40 Watt Club. I might have even asked the clerk whether he had the album, which was odd, because the answer to a question like that is invariably "no." But then, as if he'd been waiting for me to come in and inquire about that very record, he went over to the bins and pulled the pink and yellow cover out and... [gasp, jaw drop] there it was! Like it was nothing! I purchased the LP for around $20. I was so excited, so very much in a state of shock and elation, that I ran back to the 40 Watt and called Calvin Johnson back in Olympia to tell him the news. Let it be known that I have never called anyone before or since to tell them that I'd purchased a record.

I get to see The Raincoats for the first time this Friday. Needless to say, I am ready.

10:57 AM ET | 10-14-2009 | permalink

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Tall? Grande? Lawsuit?

I've always thought of Starbucks as the place that music goes to die, so you can imagine how amused I was to read that Carly Simon is suing Starbucks and its CEO, Howard Schultz.

According to an article in The New York Times, "[Simon] had signed with Hear Music, the Starbucks label that had made a hit of Paul McCartney's Memory Almost Full. But five days before her album's release [2008's This Kind of Love], Starbucks scaled back its involvement in the music business and, Ms. Simon said in a lawsuit she filed on Friday, that her terrible sales were a result of Starbucks's mismanagement."

The suit alleges "concealment of material facts," "tortious interference" with Ms. Simon's contract and "unlawful, unfair and fraudulent business practices."

You can read the entire article and more about the lawsuit details here.

Simon went so far as to hand-write notes to Schultz. In one, she wrote, "Do you suppose I would have gone ahead with heavy and visible exposure if I had known I might be so dropped in the cracks?" Though Simon received no reply, she continued to vent her feelings and frustrations. In another note to Schultz, she went the lyrical route, writing, "Howard, Fraud is the creation of Faith / And then the betrayal. Carly."
Starbucks isn't the first "label" to allegedly screw over an artist. And, though not every musician turns to litigation, plenty air their grievances in the form of songs, from The Sex Pistols' "EMI" to the Stiff Little Fingers' "Rough Trade."

From "Rough Trade:"

Record boss said we would be a smash
Yeah, go straight to Number One
He talked of hits and tours and lots of cash
And all the time it wasn't on
And I believed every word was true
Yeah I swallowed every line
I believed every word he said
And I didn't find out in time
We were betrayed, betrayed, betrayed
Betrayed, betrayed by Rough Trade lies

Obviously, many artists ultimately make the decision to work outside of the traditional label/band dynamic. They opt for distribution deals, put their music out on their own label or figure out some combination thereof.

I suppose if there's one good aspect to the ever-failing, ever-more-bankrupt, ever-transforming music industry, it's that dabblers like Starbucks can now go back to simply making s----y coffee. With the fickle opportunists looking for new ventures, or having to concentrate on saving what little of their original venture they have left, it leaves room for time-tested, artist-driven, well-intentioned labels to pick up the pieces. And for newer, small and niche labels to crop up and figure out a new model.

What are some of your favorite stories or songs about label vs. artist disagreements?

11:44 AM ET | 10-12-2009 | permalink

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Five For Friday

11:12 AM ET | 10- 9-2009 | permalink

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You Annoy Me

The first song I ever wrote was called "You Annoy Me." Okay, that's not exactly true; the first song I wrote was "Buffy's Fluffy." (My childhood dog was named Buffy.) But "You Annoy Me" was the first tune to be recorded onto a cassette -- one that I still have, somewhere.

Sample lyrics from "You Annoy Me":

The way you look really annoys me
The way you talk really bores me
You think that you are always right
You keep me awake at night
You're the most annoying person I know
Get out of my life -- just go, go, go!

Hmmm, I can't really say that I've progressed much beyond that in terms of tolerance.

Speaking of being annoyed, the Huffington Post is asking readers to vote for the most annoying song of all time. So far, the No. 1 spot is held by Billy Ray Cyrus' "Achy Breaky Heart." I'm sure you can guess some of the other songs in the running: "Macarena"? Check. "My Humps"? Definitely. A song I was happy to see on there -- even though merely reading the title gave me flashbacks to every workout I ever did at the Valley Athletic Club in Tumwater, Wash. -- was "I'm Blue" by Eiffel 65. Arrgh, as I typed that last sentence, I clenched my fist and simulated a bicep curl.

What songs make you want to tear your hair out?

10:16 AM ET | 10- 9-2009 | permalink

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The Gossip: Best Live Band In America?

by Bob Boilen

Ugh! Tonight at 12:30 in the morning, I'm going to host a live concert with a band whose CD I couldn't even get through. The Gossip is a group from Olympia, Wash., and I've been told that this is one of the best live acts around, a band not to be missed.

Now, I promised Carrie Brownstein in our Fall Music Preview that I'd give them another chance. So tonight, I invited Carrie to co-host our webcast of The Gossip from the 9:30 Club.

by Carrie Brownstein

3 p.m. Wednesday, Oct. 7.

I'm currently on the train from New York City to Washington, D.C., wondering how long into The Gossip's set Bob will get before he turns to me and says, "Wow!"

Bob claims that Beth Ditto has plenty of swagger, but that she lacks vocal dynamics. I think her strength lies in the way she practically hurls the words and melodies from her mouth. It's forceful, yes, but I think she knows when to hold back and build suspense.

If Bob and I agree on a single thing tonight, it's going to be that The Gossip is one of the best live bands around.

4:59 PM ET | 10- 7-2009 | permalink

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All Things Exciting

1. Many of you probably listened to the new Vampire Weekend track that was made available for streaming yesterday. It's called "Horchata" and it's the first track off the band's upcoming album, Contra.

I don't know what your first impressions of the VW song were, but personally I was more excited to make this discovery; it's one of my favorite Alice Cooper songs:

2. The Gossip, Music For Men. Everyone, including myself, talks a lot about how amazing Beth Ditto is -- and she is. But what floored me on the first few listens of this album is Nathan's guitar playing. He's always had a seemingly endless supply of catchy riffs, but on MFM, there's some seriously madcap and serpentine guitar work. Nathan's the propeller and The Gossip would not be the same without him.

3. Speaking of The Gossip, I get to head down to Washington, D.C., tonight to help bring you a live NPR webcast of the band's show from the 9:30 Club. I'll host the show along with Bob Boilen. Tune in!

4. From the I-Miss-Portland department: PDX label Kill Rock Stars is releasing the new Thao with the Get Down Stay Down album on Oct. 13. You can listen to a track from her upcoming album here.

5. A rare pygmy hippo was born in Rotterdam last week.

10:18 AM ET | 10- 7-2009 | permalink

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Truth In Blogging

From an article in The New York Times:

The F.T.C. said that beginning on Dec. 1, bloggers who review products must disclose any connection with advertisers, including, in most cases, the receipt of free products and whether or not they were paid in any way by advertisers, as occurs frequently. The new rules also take aim at celebrities, who will now need to disclose any ties to companies, should they promote products on a talk show or on Twitter.

You're probably wondering what connections I will reveal on Dec. 1. Well, I won't make you wait even that long. I mean, the only people who send me free goods -- in the form of advance CDs -- are labels and publicists, but you probably already knew that. And, well, I rarely if ever review records.

Instead, I'd like to take this opportunity to mention a list of companies that I've never mentioned on my blog, and that I've never received free goods from, but whom I will gladly start mentioning as soon as the products arrive:

Adidas classics tennis shoes, size 8
BMW 7 Series circa late-1970s
Pinkberry
Marc Jacobs shoes or bags
Rodarte
Rag and Bone dresses
Moleskin unlined notebooks
Namiki-Pilot Vanishing Point Pen, Chrome
Herman Miller Aeron Chair
Innova or Evo pet food
Gwen Gear dog collars
J. Crew puffer vests
Kleenex
Stumptown Coffee
Gilmour 20-58100 20 Series Platinum 8 Ply Flexogen Garden Hose 5/8-Inch by 100 Feet, Platinum
Dogwood Trees
Eucalyptus Trees
Sour Gummy Candy
Sunglasses that are impossible to lose
Sushi

In all seriousness, do you ever wonder whether a band or album is getting a good review because the blogger got in free to the show or received free merchandise? Personally, I've always wondered how something like the Pitchfork Music Festival isn't a conflict of interest, or at least a little messy. I mean, if Pitchfork asks you to play their festival, do they feel like they have to give you a good review since you're adding cred to their lineup? Or, does the band/label expect a good review in exchange for playing?

6:17 PM ET | 10- 6-2009 | permalink

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Concert Review: Gavin Friday And Friends

It seems that the only concerts I've attended since moving to New York City are highfalutin, high-cost events that take place at ornate and historic venues. Because here I am, about to review the show I saw last night at Carnegie Hall. My friend was generous enough to offer me an extra pass that he had to see An Evening With Gavin Friday and Friends. Featuring guest appearances by everyone from U2 to Lydia Lunch to Laurie Anderson, the night was also a benefit for RED, with a portion of the proceeds going toward helping eradicate AIDS in Africa. Friday, a member of the late-'70s/early-'80s Irish avant-garde band The Virgin Prunes -- who, for many years, were the obligatory opener for their friends in U2 -- had always said he wanted to play Carnegie Hall before he turned 50. So last night, in a star-studded 50th-birthday event, Gavin Friday got his wish.

Friday appeared on stage, possessing a blend of hidden menace a la Malcolm McDowell in A Clockwork Orange, the sexual ambiguity of Bowie in his Ziggy Stardust days, and the dapper but unctuous air of a schoolboy-on-the-prowl at a private-school prom. The emcee and the impresario, Friday was also the unabashed birthday boy. His overriding attitude seemed to be, "It's my party and I'll sing if I want to." Despite a parade of celebrities, we were never to forget that it was Gavin's songs and Gavin's night.

I'll be honest: I'm not going to remember each and every one of the special guests. But what follows are some thoughts about the people I do recall.

Continue reading "Concert Review: Gavin Friday And Friends" »

1:03 PM ET | 10- 5-2009 | permalink

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Five For Friday

11:05 AM ET | 10- 2-2009 | permalink

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Words To Live By

Oh, Facebook, what will you come up with next? For those of you on the time-wasting, high-school-friend-stalking site, you may have already noticed a new application invading your news feed, called "Morrissey Advice on Facebook."

The modest title of the app does nothing to prepare you for the flowery language Morrissey will unleash upon you in the succinct-yet-useful form of a fortune-cookie prize.

Today, here's what Morrissey advised for me:

"You have to, at least from a distance, look as if you know what you're doing, and I can manage that."

Moments later, and because the Internet is all about not being able to use restraint, I asked for even more words of wisdom. Morrissey said:

"Age gives you a great sense of proportion. You can be very hard on yourself when you're younger but now I just think 'well everybody's absolutely mad and I'm doing quite well'."

So true, so true.

Naturally, the whole idea of following Morrissey's advice got me thinking about what other artists might be useful for steering me through the coming years. So I shut my eyes and randomly pointed to a few lyric sheets. Here's what I discovered:

The Replacements:

"I need a G-- damn job, I need a G-- damn job. Right now right now. An honest job, if I can find one."

The Magnetic Fields:

Now the clock is striking 1, so we might as well begin it, as there's dancing to be done, and our time is not infinite."

Van Halen:

I live my life like there's no tomorrow, and all I've got I had to steal, least I don't need to beg or borrow. Yes, I'm living at a pace that kills."

In conclusion, I need a real job, life is short and I'm living like there's no tomorrow. Who needs a life coach when you've got Paul Westerberg, Stephin Merritt and David Lee Roth?

So go ahead, throw caution to the wind, break up with your therapist and let lyrics be your guide. Let me know what you find!

2:00 PM ET | 10- 1-2009 | permalink

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Video: Mark David's Box Of Tapes

Comedian Jon Benjamin's new video for VBS.TV. If you are a fan of DOS, this is for you.

1:54 PM ET | 10- 1-2009 | permalink

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