Ad Rock loves MPLS!

This is....very cute.

can't stop listening to...oooh la lalalalala

I feel like such a fucking hippie....but it's SO GREAT. Pshh, let's face it: Altamont proved that the Stones

are

not

part of any hippie scene, man.

But..this song makes me wanna dance around the apartment. Oh, the shame. The shame.

Speaking of shame...I have become addicted to crack cocaine, aka: American Idol. Whoops! How did that happen!? My dad is the video supplier; my dealer. I also have another source for analysis and insight... There will be more written about this. I have to tell you: it's rich. *riche* even.

SHE'S A RAINBOW

(Jagger/Richards)

She comes in colors everywhere; She combs her hair
She's like a rainbow
Coming colors in the air
Oh, everywhere
She comes in colors
She comes in colors everywhere; She combs her hair
She's like a rainbow

Coming colors in the air
Oh, everywhere
She comes in colors
Have you seen her dressed in blue
See the sky in front of you
And her face is like a sail
Speck of white so fair and pale
Have you seen the lady fairer

She comes in colors everywhere; She combs her hair
She's like a rainbow
Coming colors in the air
Oh, everywhere
She comes in colors
Have you seen her all in gold
Like a queen in days of old
She shoots colors all around
Like a sunset going down
Have you seen the lady fairer

She comes in colors everywhere;
She combs her hair
She's like a rainbow
Coming colors in the air
Oh, everywhere
She comes in colors
She's like a rainbow
Coming colors in the air
Oh, everywhere
She comes in colors

Mr. Nelson...he's still got it.

Prince made number one on the Billboard charts, baby.

It's a good day.

**Yeah, he *does* still look amazing. I was lucky enough to see his SNL performance and it was fucking sexy and rocking. His smoldering guitar solos?! Um, and his...skin? Does he suck on the jugulars of young, beautiful virgins to maintain such a timeless, glorious glow, or what? For real.

Maybe he and Madge (when they *briefly* "dated") went to the crossroads, somewhere and made some pact with (not the devil, they are both far too religious) the rock gawds in 1984...and they will maintain maximum sexiness and full-talent for ...all of eternity!

hahahahaha

Oh.

Paul.

*sigh*

http://olyrun06.blogspot.com/2006/03/mega-post-edition-omg-mats-reunite-omg.html

fucking-a-right. thank you, Jack. thank you for everything...

From the NME...

Jack White reveals his new favourite band

They're from Sheffield

Jack White has reaffirmed his love for the Arctic Monkeys - though admits he's yet to see the band play live.White first revealed his respect for the Sheffield band when The White Stripes toured the UK last year, declaring 'I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor' his favourite song of the moment.Now returning with The Raconteurs the guitarist has again praised Alex Turner's men. "I love the Arctic Monkeys," Jack White told MTV.co.uk. "Who doesn't? I'd love to see them live, but haven't got round to it yet. I never get to see bands because I'm never in the same town for more than two seconds."When asked, he joked that he'd like to "work" with the band. "We'll start with the gardening and move on to the housework," he said.

Gawd, I love this guy.

He's totally off his rocker-weird. He usually looks like a vampire or a villain from a silent movie. But he has provided me with some of the most pleasurable musical experiences of my life. First time I saw him was at First Ave. and we were right up close and saw how tight his pants were. I saw him strangle the fuck outta his guitar, pulling out these sounds that were unlike anything I had ever seen up close--with the exception of Neil Young, of course. Jack comes off like the lovechild of Page and Plant--but still very much his own man. I've seen the White Stripes twice since then, and it really turned me on both times. Got me fired up. He is a showman, a shaman.

Thank lawd he's on our bandwagon. It's meant to be.

I pulled a Sid & Who the fuck....

Friday I went to see The Fever and Electric Six and...yadda, yadda, yadda...the staff at First Ave. really hates me now. It's depressing. I think I might have to dye my hair black or something before I go to show there, again. Dammit.

&

Can't Hardly Wait:

'WHO THE FUCK ARE ARCTIC MONKEYS?'

Arctic Monkeys will be releasing a five track EP on April 24th. The EP titled 'Who The Fuck Are Arctic Monkeys' will contain 4 never heard before tracks and will lead with 'The View From The Afternoon'.The complete tracklisting comprises of;
1. The View From The Afternoon
2. Cigarette Smoker Fiona
3. Despair In The Departure Lounge
4. No Buses
5. Who The Fuck Are Arctic Monkeys
Formats will include CD along with a 10 inch picture Vinyl.

Such a great title, doncha think? Can't help but think of Keef wearing the "Who the fuck is Mick Jagger t-shirt. Classic.

It's hard to believe

Mr. Paul from Sheffield, Nottingham, South Yorkshire...

I can't believe you are from there. It is blowing my mind.

So, know the Lads from the band called the Arctic Monkeys, then? (Sorry, I *had* to)

PS Walsh strikes again!

PPS I had *never* heard or read of the band Art Brut until last night. I heard some clips. I have a really bad feeling about them already. I hate the dude's voice.

What's next? Kate Moss found stabbed to death in Chelsea Hotel?

Doherty Pleads Guilty Then Kicks Reporter
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/03/23/AR2006032300437.html?nav=rss_artsandliving/entertainmentnews

I am a "distrusted minority"! Whoot.

I knew this to be true when I was 13 years old and the Chirst-er kids in my American History class told me I was going to hell. Gotta love those forgiving, loving Christians!

E just sent this to me:

Atheists identified as America’s most distrusted minority, according to new U of M study
What:
U of M study reveals America’s distrust of atheism
Who:
Penny Edgell, associate professor of sociology

MINNEAPOLIS / ST. PAUL (3/20/2006) -- American’s increasing acceptance of religious diversity doesn’t extend to those who don’t believe in a god, according to a national survey by researchers in the University of Minnesota’s department of sociology.
From a telephone sampling of more than 2,000 households, university researchers found that Americans rate atheists below Muslims, recent immigrants, gays and lesbians and other minority groups in “sharing their vision of American society.” Atheists are also the minority group most Americans are least willing to allow their children to marry.
Even though atheists are few in number, not formally organized and relatively hard to publicly identify, they are seen as a threat to the American way of life by a large portion of the American public. “Atheists, who account for about 3 percent of the U.S. population, offer a glaring exception to the rule of increasing social tolerance over the last 30 years,” says Penny Edgell, associate sociology professor and the study’s lead researcher.
Edgell also argues that today’s atheists play the role that Catholics, Jews and communists have played in the past—they offer a symbolic moral boundary to membership in American society. “It seems most Americans believe that diversity is fine, as long as every one shares a common ‘core’ of values that make them trustworthy—and in America, that ‘core’ has historically been religious,” says Edgell. Many of the study’s respondents associated atheism with an array of moral indiscretions ranging from criminal behavior to rampant materialism and cultural elitism.
Edgell believes a fear of moral decline and resulting social disorder is behind the findings. “Americans believe they share more than rules and procedures with their fellow citizens—they share an understanding of right and wrong,” she said. “Our findings seem to rest on a view of atheists as self-interested individuals who are not concerned with the common good.”
The researchers also found acceptance or rejection of atheists is related not only to personal religiosity, but also to one’s exposure to diversity, education and political orientation—with more educated, East and West Coast Americans more accepting of atheists than their Midwestern counterparts.
The study is co-authored by assistant professor Joseph Gerteis and associate professor Doug Hartmann. It’s the first in a series of national studies conducted the American Mosaic Project, a three-year project funded by the Minneapolis-based David Edelstein Family Foundation that looks at race, religion and cultural diversity in the contemporary United States. The study will appear in the April issue of the American Sociological Review.
from the link: http://www.ur.umn.edu/FMPro?-db=releases&-lay=web&-format=umnnewsreleases/releasesdetail.html&ID=2816&-Find

a message to you

Paul (the one who commented last, not the Hotshot Reporter In Tacoma):

yer cute. where are you from??

Joy is infectious

It was Not The Best Concert I Ever Saw in All My Life. There are others that have already earned that slot in my heart and head.

I *did not* see Rock and Roll Future. Its name wasn't Bruce Springsteen and the hyperbolic-Landau title can’t even go to the Arctic Monkeys.

But, you know what? Doesn't matter. Shouldn't matter. I had a blast—it was one of the most necessary things I have ever done in my life.

Friday night: we hit the Empty Bottle to see The Dirtbombs–that killer Detroit rock band. We got super close; the stage was ridiculously low (like leg-graspingly low). We danced. Straight men and women danced. We got sweaty and we drank. And we talked to strangers and they talked to us. It seemed so normal and so right. I fell in love with Chicago in those first moments.

Chicago: the city where you can hail a cab and not have to phone one. The city where most people ride mass transit. The big city of 2,862,244 people. (Which, doesn't really compare with New York City, center of the universe at 8,104,079 or cute, lil' MPLS, at 373,943.) The record stores, the people, the dancing, the punk rock bars (we got lucky, finding one in the Reader) after the Arctic show) the orgasmic-ly delicious food at all the restaurants–including the after-bar burritos and pizza (better than any damn food here in MPLS, still. Sorry, but iz true.)

Walking into the first record joint (Reckless Records) we went to on Saturday, had “She’s So Heavy,” all raunchy, rocking. Expecting to hear “Here Comes The Sun” next—I just about lost all my cool when Pulp’s “Underwear” came on. I couldn’t help but sing along. Kinda loudly—as I looked through the bargain-bin vinyl. I felt like Lester Bangs. Just for that moment.

Chi-town is the city of a million record stores and rock venues. The city of the Irish, Polish, German and Italian ancestry, and black, Hispanic and Asian people live there too–actual diversity! Plenty of history (Al Capone and mobsville, baby) and LOADS of culture and museums, too. Affordable rent and entertainment and beer. And there’s Time Out and The Reader and Chi is one of the birth places of the Blues.

OK, I'm not researching a "report" or "paper" on Chi. I'm just kind of gushing, cuz I'm love.

Saturday night was...totally surreal.

Before the band came out, they played some Beasties (“What’cha Want”) and a song especially for the Rappin’ Lawyer who drove us there: “Regulators” by Warren G and Nate Dogg. Oh hells yeah. It was a little ode to the fact that the Lads grew up listeing to hip hop. It seemed right and fuck, it got the crowd moving and ready. (after the show was done—no encore for these kids—out streamed “Nobody Does it Better” by Carly Simon. It actually worked.)

The lads took the stage at 8:15–on the nose and it was all over by 9:10 in the fucking evening. The strange thing is how calm I felt. How lucid everything was. Everything was clear, memorable and although I was experiencing a great deal of joy–I was very aware and in control of all my faculties. Well, that and the band did not exactly rip it up. They were fantastic, though. Alex Turner was passionate—trying to make wide-eyed-eye contact with as many fans as possible, it seemed. Matt Helders, the drummer was making all those expressions you're supposed to make when you're banging on the skins. And I mean that in the most sincere way–he was feeling it. He was working his ass off. Andy Nicholson was SO bored! Well, bored-looking anyway. He really looked like he was getting a job done that needed to get done, but wasn't actually enjoying himself. Although we got close, (and then we got REALLY close–mid-set, like a row or two of people's bodies between us and the stage) I never really watched Jamie Cook all that much. He was working it, though.

The sound was kick-ass; all of Turner's lyrics were clear as a bell (with some extra swears thrown in, here and there). But all the lads just seemed like they were in maybe a bit of a pissy mood–my theory, now, is that after such a horrible time at SXSW, they were a little extra bitter and sick-of-it-all.

Course, when he asked “Where’s the party after?” I yelled, “RIGHT HERE!” *sigh*…and when a roadie took his guitar he quipped, bratty-like, “I’m too famous to tune me own geetar now.” About that Alex Turner bloke: “Cocky bitch,” says Jessica. “Wotta ham,” from E-beth. Haha.

I acknowledge, now, that I was setting myself for total-inevitable-disappointment (but, tonight there'll be some LUV...right true). And that did happen–but it was still a dream come fucking true and everything surrounding it–falling in love with the town, my beloved travel companions–J and E–ma ladies! And Jessica's fabulous 21-year-old sister (who, might be going out some night with the reigning Corned Beef and Hash Eating Champion of the world, who we met at the punk rock bar on Saturday night, accompanied by a dude in a Dillinger Four shirt, who was into my Asbury Park jacket patch… but that's another story).

But, the people? The fans? They were golden. They were friendly and great. Blissful–beeeming smiles all around, actually, Alex. Sweaty, dancing, shouting and beaming 18-year-old boys, 24-year-old women, older men, middle aged ladies, and young kids. Totally diverse. Real fucking fans–who knew all the fucking words, to all the songs. We were all shouting along together–for the first time in a long time: my voice got all scratchy and I was achy-sore from dancing and po-going two nights in a row.

After the show was over—we were all feeling pretty strange. In the ladies’ room there were these hot younger chicks with their tits out and these thick Northern English accents. I couldn’t resist. I said, “Where you from?” They were from fucking Manchester. I yelled out, “Long live Oasis and New Order!” as we walked away. I guess they laughed…hmph.

And, I gotsta admit it. Part of the surrealism was a slightly unsettling feeling during parts of the show. Jim said it: you need this perspective. When you have experienced such a solitary thing (listening to that record a million times) and it becomes a little more real—with 1,099 other people chanting along with you—it can be kind disconcerting. But it’s necessary.

What eased me during those moments was looking to my right: J's smiling, joyful face and to my left, E: dancing beside me–making eye contact, her eyes, full of satisfaction and her precious dancing! Very comforting–took me back to Saturdays listening to it with her in my room-discussing the relevance it had to our lives.

Wait.

How deep is too deep?

PS America *might* be catching on… When I got back, all car tired and sore—Lil’ Steven’s Underground Garage wasn’t on yet, so I flipped the radio to 105.7. “I Bet That You Look Good On the Dancefloor” blared. I beamed.

The Industry Night before our night

Ah, "Leave Before The Lights Come On" was the new song... That's the only non-album song we got, too, SXSW Hipsters!

By the way, Alex made some crack about how we, the Chicago crowd was "a lot better than last night's crowd" …without mentioning that it was actually SXSW. And then he kept going off about someone in the crowd with a "beaming smile," "just *look* at that smile!" Lucky bitch.

[From the Chicago Tribune, Greg Kot: AUSTIN, Texas -- Arctic Monkeys singer Alex Turner came out spitting at the South by Southwest Music Conference, which wrapped up its 20th year over the weekend.He insulted the conference, repeatedly dissed the photographers snapping his picture, and took his time tuning his guitar between songs. "This is everything a gig should not be," he snapped after only a single song.]

*oooh, and look! He wore that white hoodie for us, too! it was pulled up over his head, stoner-like when he took the stage. We figured as much, not being 21 and all...but he and the lads all had their beer in plastic cups. ?!? Rock Star Laws are different, apparently.

From the NME:

Arctic Monkeys mess with Texas
South By South West set goes down a storm

Arctic Monkeys played a headline set to South By South West festival goers last night (March 17) at one of the most talked about gigs of the week.A packed crowd of industry insiders and fans crammed themselves into La Zona Rosa, at the festival-in-a-city in Austin, Texas.More chatty than usual, frontman Alex Turner teased the crowd and said, "We're gonna play a new song for you now. One that's not on the album. Just to prove that we're here for the long-term," before breaking into 'Leave Before The Lights Come On'.The set, which included 'I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor', 'From The Ritz to the Rubble', 'The View From The Afternoon' and 'Mardy Bum' was attended by Dirty Pretty Things, The Subways, Mystery Jets, Plan B and We Are Scientists' Keith Murray, who joined the band for 'Fake Tales Of San Francisco'.The five-day new music festival, which ends on Sunday (March 19), gathers together fans and industry from across the globe.Stay with NME.COM for updates from the festival, day-by-day.NME 's special South By South West issue is on shelves from Wednesday March 29, with a free 15-track CD featuring the best bands from the festival.

FUCK ART-- LET'S DANCE.

Mission Accomplished

But, you don't want to hear about it, right?

Pssh, I don't even wanna write about it: the perfect (yes, PERFECT) Rock Road Trip that ever was...

I

just

don't

have

it

in

me.

But I will later.

I love you, tomorrow

I'll write you a letter tomorrow

Tonight I can't hold a pen

Someone's got a stamp that I can borrow

I promise not to blow the address again
Lights that flash in the evening,
Through a crack in the drapes
Jesus rides beside me
He never buys any smokes

Hurry up, hurry up, ain't you had enough of this stuff
Ashtray floors, dirty clothes, and filthy jokes
See you're high and lonesome
Try and try and try
Lights that flash in the evening,Through a hole in the drapes
I'll be home when I'm sleeping

I can't hardly wait
I can't wait.
Hardly wait.

"Oh baby, I'm wanting to do you a swap. I'll give you anything in exchange for the noises you got."

There's this great Q article about the Arctic Monkeys' grassroots-upcoming (from the latest issue: Punk '76--fucking great). It contains the phrases "It's All Happening" and "the new revolution is here." Almost too real for me, too eerie (almost). (Which made me think--What does Cameron Crowe think?)

It has the story (called "How This Band Changed the Music Industry") of how the boys got their music around, all innovative and naive-like (MySpace is a big part of the story! Iiiieee!). One morning, Sister Ray, a record shop in London, kept getting all these phone calls--asking for "Fake Tales of San Francisco," the "debut single by a band from Sheffield called Arctic Monkeys. None of the staff had heard of them. They thought it might be a wind up. Around lunchtime, the band themselves finally called-- they'd mentioned on an internet chat forum that they were planning to do the mail order for the single through Sister Ray. Would that be alright?"

hahhahaaha! The sheer balls! The innocence! The revolution!

"by then, we'd had 60 people ask for the single," the store's co-owner Phil Barton explains. "Sixty people in a morning? That's very alright."

Here's what I got. I have the cumulative bootleg that circulated around England since last May. Got it from fucking Germany, man. $7. You really see how the fervor was sparked when you hear how smoldering this stuff is.

Right away, it hit me. All the songs that were just GREAT that didn't make the album; they all have something in common. Most are either about sex or dugs. Seriously. Notice that on the proper album, there are really no references to either. Just drinking and the thoughts of sex. Here, we have more than that. Even if it's just a little more...raunchy (more coarse language, images). So, I ask, Domino: Didn't think it would sell so big with that kinda content? The Beatles never swore, THAT kinda thing??

I don't pretend to know. I'm just glad I have these songs in my head.

Some songs of note on the boot: (10 of the eleven non-album songs I had NEVER heard before. Nicely mind-blowing, especially nicey-nice to get into before embarking on the pilgrimage to see 'em.)

10. Bigger Boys & Stolen Sweethearts Hated this song at first(I got this one earlier), but it grew on me. Slightly annoying happy-jangle to the music, the lyrics are simple, young and honest. About yer mate breaking up with a bird, "She's not nice. She's pretty fucking far from nice." And the truth that they will always be "Somebody taller, with more of a wit." A little too emo-y for me, actually.

11. Space Invaders Hottt track!! Blistering guitar, a sexy, simpleton chorus--in part: "bab-yeh, bab-yeh, bay-bee" and a thoughroughly smashing Led Zeppelin riff and drum rip. The music leaps out at you. And then there's: "probably gonna die, getting high--mixing crazy [I have no idea what he says here] with the crack," heard that, though! Damn.

12. Knock A Door Run Super-heavy, sorta distorted guitar. Kinda funny, menacing song about being "mischiev-oos." It's all heavy and dangerous musically, but I think the song is about Ding Dong Ditch. Seriously.

13. Curtains Close This is the BEST of the lot. My current favorite. Very adolescent and "naughty." The best lines at the beginning: "I said I wanted it long, but she cut it short, and now I'm catching cold. I told you to not put crack in the doobie, but it was already rolled." Unbelievable. The chorus goes on to imply what he just might be ashamed of doing with the lights on and the curtains NOT closed ("I must be mad"). In his bedroom. At his parents home. Totally. He also uses the word "mutherfucker." Oh, and it's really fucking catchy--also implies sex, or maybe just masterbation...awww.

15. Cigarette Smoke Another raunchy one. Really rock-soloy. Featuring drugs, strip clubs, "smacking blokes" and "snorting some coke off her thighs" Wha--!!?? OK, I can see how this didn't make the record, but boy, I think it should have.

16. Wavin' Bye To The Train Or The Bus Ooooh! Here's Alex at his most sexual! It's almost off-putting, I'm just not used to it (except fer Mardy Bum, as E pointed out). The best bit: "Oh baby, I'm wanting to do you a swap. I'll give you anything in exchange for the noises you got. I can see you want to be attended to. Oh, just count till 29 and I'll attend to you. Oh, for sure. Certainly, yeah, yeah." And then it goes in to this slightly unsatisfying (just a little too much of a tempo change) chorus about waving to the train or bus ("we'll be able to be together again," etc.). But, it's really, really sexy. And it should have made the album.

And, Elizabeth, this one's for you: "Oh, spending all of your money--on trendy hair cuts that you read were cool" alternate lyrics at the beginning of the demo "Still Take You Home"

"To help capture or kill my nation’s enemies is just icing on the cake."

"Frontlines: Dispatches From U.S. Soldiers in Iraq"

Just so many mixed feelings when I read these blogs. Bottom line: it's unquestionably a *good* idea to publish these soldier's thoughts, their routines, their stories... How restricted or edited they are, I don't know. But I think that any insight and exposure to the real people fighting this fucked up war is important for us to read and learn about.

What it is: "TimesSelect has invited four members of the United States military — all active bloggers — to write about their daily lives. Three of the bloggers are now stationed in Iraq, and one has recently returned home."

One that touched me today...again, in really mixed ways...(note the musical choices of this dude) He's smart--a good writer. He's exactly my age. He has freckles. Whew.

March13 10:10 pm
One Marine’s Routine
First Lt. Jeffrey D. Barnett
My average day is actually pretty predictable when I’m not out on an operation. Being a creature of habit I try to stick to the routine I have found. It seems the more I repeat my endless iterations of eating, sleeping, working, and exercising, the faster the calendar pages flip. Now, it’s not as if I am hating life out here. On the contrary, the opportunity to have a positive impact during a pivotal point in our history is the type of stuff dreams are made of. To help capture or kill my nation’s enemies is just icing on the cake. However, small, achievable goals make for a happy deployment.
I generally wake up at 0600 and start my morning fumbling with my sleeping bag zipper in a futile effort to free myself from the green sarcophagus that kept me so warm through the night. This goes on for about 30 seconds until either I get lucky and it unzips or I just slide myself out of it in a fit of frustration. After that I walk the 200 meters to the shower and then return to my trailer to get dressed to an iTunes playlist of my choosing, usually of the angry variety — Metallica, Pantera, Dope, Korn, Rammstein, Linkin Park, Megahertz, Motley Crue, Three Days Grace, Disturbed. Not exactly easy listening.
Next, it’s time for chow, so I walk 300 meters in the opposite direction to the “Little Vegas” chow hall at the edge of Camp Grizzly. There I dine on a traditional American breakfast of eggs, biscuits, pork, and fruit juice. The eggs are a tricky subject, because as of yet I have been unable to convince the chow hall workers that I only want a small portion of eggs. It appears you will either get 18 ounces of eggs or you will get none at all. This is not up for discussion, and any protest you make during the serving of your eggs will only illicit another 18-ounce scoop from the now quickly depleting vat in front of you.

You say you want a revolution? This was my Feb. 9th, 1964

Instead, it's young men from Sheffield (not Liverpool) on SNL (not Ed Sullivan) last night--March 11th, 2006. A president didn't just die...but the war's on. And the Bush Administration is currently as scary as it gets--breaking down a nation as much as an assassination might.

Hey, assassination...hmmm...

But that's not the point--not right now, anyway. The point is, the Arctic Monkeys played on American television--to their largest audience yet, last night on Saturday Night Live.

And it felt epic. (of course it did for me, but I think it transcended even my hysteria)

They played "Dancefloor," of course. Kicked it off weird, with a lyric change ("stop making the eyes at me" became "stop breaking the ties with me" huh?) For the second song they chose "A Certain Romance," which surprised me and Elizabeth--only because it wasn't the "next single." But, a brilliant choice, I'd say. Really showed what they are made of for the virgins that were hearing them and seeing them for the first time.

We had a time trying to wrangle up being near a TV and reception, for that matter. I knew I could see it later, but I couldn't *stand* the thought that the Lads would be playing their hearts out on American television and that I wouldn't be watching it. Live. Brutal thoughts. So, we had to figure it out. Neither Elizabeth and I actually have "TV" (no reception, anyway). We tried to rack our brains--who do we know that will be home? On a Saturday night? Fuck. No one, man.
Sports bars? They have TVs... Could we convince some bartender somewhere to put on NBC and crank the volume up for the entire duration of SNL? ...nah...

So, we tried our luck on Elizabeth's set (she asked me, "what channel was the Grammys on? that came in OK...") and... it worked!! And SNL was actually kind of funny! Kind of!

And then came the Lads. There they were! on TV! In their Regular Bloke Clothing. No rock star fashion, no matching suits, no skinny ties. Just jackets and jeans. Of course, drummer Matt had on some sunglasses...? Alex, guitar hanging so high on his chest, peered through his shaggy long hair and flashed his big brown eyes at the camera, and that was the only come-on we got. Sounding keen and maybe a little attitude-ridden, they ripped through "...Dancefloor," complete with a killer mini-pause coupled with a camera edit that had us scream like Beatles-smitten-teenagers.

"A Certain Romance" --with all those musical parts and changes of tempo! And those lyrics! Good un, boys! Show 'en what you got. Then there was "that man just yawned" quip with a point to the audience from Alex. Wha--? Insecurity? Were you pissed? Just fucking with us? No matter. A great little dose of spontaneity. At the end, Jamie threw his guitar down, towards an amp, not violently, but...effectively. And then they did the best thing they could do--they *didn't* just stand there and wait for the commercial break to kick in; they walked off stage, laughing. It was subtle and perfect.

One question: what did the "A B S O?" mean? On the drum kit, in tape? Any guesses?

And then. The end. The SNL Schmoozing. No one deigned to schmooze with the boys that aren't old enough to drink in the States. So, whaddthey do? Alex bit his nails. They hugged each other. Passionate embrace, even. Just being fucking 20-years-old. Just saying, "fuck you. you don't know who we are....yet."

Reminded me of this, written by Jim for the liner notes of "All For Nothing/Nothing For All":

"Bands always look stupid at the end of Saturday Night Live, hobnobbing with the guest host and cast members like it's one big happy school play, but no band ever looked so painfully out-of-place as the Replacements did at the conclusion of the January 18, 1986 [side note I must include: the fucking Lads were born in 1986, you know. Jesus!] show. Watch the tape: The regulars are shaking hands and patting backs, but avoiding the 'Mats like a four-part fart, which leaves our boys to turn tto/on each other for amusement.

Tommy pushes Bob, who looks wounded, Paul lights a cigarette, and Chris half-heartedly searches for someone to talk to. Finally, they all skulk off, looking very much like the white trash that got invited to the cool kid's party, and were dumb enough to show up."

the "new look"

This is from a publicity shoot--Marilyn trying out her new, more professional, "take me seriously" look. I think she looks so rock and roll here, it kills me. (the leather gloves? holy, holy)

also...

I just watched "Trainspotting" again. For the billionth time. I know....all....the...words.... jesus christ. What an impact that movie had on me. I saw it the same summer I went to California (by myself) to visit my Aunt Martha, (the IRA-supporting one). I was fourteen. That is also the summer I first saw Beck--at First Ave.

Life changing summer. I had really fucking long hair then. I was obsessed with "The Catcher in the Rye," the Verve, Bjork, Rancid, Beck and the Beatles. I wore Army jackets and sunglasses as much as possible. I wished it was 1968. Desperately.

PS I knew you would respond, Phil. Thank you. Yer great...!

so...what do you think this "means"? anything?

From today's New York Times... Man, I always thought it would be Cali.... (granted, "What's happening in New York has already occurred in metropolitan areas in the West and South, including Los Angeles, Miami, Houston and San Francisco.")

March 7, 2006
Whites to Be Minority in N.Y. Soon, Data Show
By SAM ROBERTS
The influx of foreigners to New York and its suburbs and the continuing exodus of non-Hispanic whites to other parts of the country have transformed the face of metropolitan New York so profoundly that whites will constitute a minority of the region's population within a few years, demographers say.
The shift would make New York the first large metropolitan area outside the South and West in which whites do not make up a majority, according to an analysis of 2004 Census estimates by the Brookings Institution that was released yesterday.
The analysis also reveals a historic reversal: For the first time since at least the 19th century, the black population of both the city and, to a lesser extent, the region, has declined. In the five boroughs, according to the estimates, the number of blacks declined by about 30,000 since 2000, dipping below 30 percent of the overall population, as the migration of blacks to the suburbs and areas like the South outpaced immigration from the Caribbean and Africa.
In contrast, the analysis found that while the greater New York region over all lost 162,000 non-Hispanic whites and several hundred blacks from 2000 to 2004, the region gained 288,000 Hispanic people and 201,000 Asians — more Asians, in fact, than any other metropolitan area.
Increasingly, the New York region's growing multiracial makeup reflects the changing face of the inner ring of suburbs as many new immigrants bypass the city altogether or migrate from the city to neighboring counties after a generation or less.
What makes the city and the region unusual, though, is that among the nation's 88 metropolitan areas with half a million or more people, New York is one of only three — Houston and Honolulu are the others — where the proportion of blacks, Hispanics and Asians each exceeds their share of the national population.
Whites have been a minority in New York City since the 1980's. But now that shift is extending to the wider metropolitan area, driven by immigration and higher birth rates among immigrants. Already, non-Hispanic whites are a minority of the metropolitan area's population younger than 15.
"New York is still the classic melting pot, with a whole diverse array of immigrants coming in, but the suburbs are now becoming part of this bigger melting pot," said William H. Frey, the Brookings Institution demographer who conducted the analysis. "The suburbs are now tasting this new diversity."
His analysis found that whites declined to 52.2 percent of the population in 2004 from 54.2 percent in 2000 in the census-defined metropolitan area, which includes the city, Long Island, the northern suburbs, northern New Jersey and northeastern Pennsylvania, but not Connecticut.
"We went down 2.1 percent from 2000 to 2004," Dr. Frey said. "If we go another 2 percent before the end of the decade, you're there." He added: "The suburbs are now contributing to this. They've all shown a decline in the percent of whites since 1990."
The approaching statistical milestone in the New York region has not been unexpected by demographers.
"What this shows is that the pattern is spreading out," said Andrew A. Beveridge, a demographer at Queens College of the City University of New York, "and the non-Hispanic white population is continuing to dwindle."
"The New York metropolitan area is becoming more like the city, and the nation's metropolitan areas are becoming more like New York," Dr. Beveridge said.
The trend was foreshadowed in an earlier analysis by New York's Department of City Planning, which found that while the region's ethnic and racial numbers had been driven for several decades by changes in the five boroughs, those changes were also being mirrored in the suburban counties closest to the city.
"The inner-ring suburbs are emulating the city," said Joseph J. Salvo, director of the department's population division.
What's happening in New York has already occurred in metropolitan areas in the West and South, including Los Angeles, Miami, Houston and San Francisco.
The proportion of whites has also dipped to just over a majority in the San Diego, Washington, Dallas and Las Vegas metropolitan regions as Asian and Hispanic people disperse beyond central cities and their suburbs and as blacks migrate to the South. In each of those areas, whites are already a minority of the population under age 15.
Atlanta led large metropolitan areas in black population growth and is poised to overtake Chicago as the region with the second-highest black population in total numbers, after New York.
In 1990, metropolitan Los Angeles and New York accounted for 30 percent of the nation's Hispanic population. By 2004, those two regions were home to only 23 percent of Hispanic people.
"For immigrant minorities, especially, friendship and family networks have drawn them to traditional ports of entry, even during times when labor market considerations would suggest they move elsewhere," Dr. Frey wrote. "Blacks, as well, have tended to follow well-worn patterns, initially out of the South and, later, to a network of cities across the North and West."
But more recently, he concluded, "many lower-skilled Hispanic migrants are moving to fast-growing areas of the country, in response to retail, service and construction job growth, while higher-skilled minority migrants are following the same professional opportunities that have attracted whites."

The Academy would like to NOT thank gay people...?

Biggest shocker, for me--in my lifetime of watching the Oscars.

How the fuck did "Brokeback Mountain," perhaps the best told, directed and acted love story (of ANY kind) I have ever seen not win best picture, when it was "in the bag"?

Was the Academy actually scared? I think you *have* to ask this question... WHY wouldn't it win? You give Ang Lee best director and...?

OK. Wow. I just totally bloggedaboutsomething that *just* happened. Feverishly.

I will write more tomorrow.... I'm just sorely disappointed.

Thinking about Jack and Ennis....

(and no, I hadn't seen "Crash." Erica and I were gonna see it this week. Humph.)

(b)uck the "shit-stem"

"Why We Fight"...come, you masters of war...

This film is a must see. Even if it will probably (hopefully) make you want to puke, cry or incite a riot. At least, that's how I felt. My friends did too, and wondered why there weren't bricks given out with each ticket.

The film hinges on the prophecy of Eisenhower's 1961 farewell speech to the nation--a chilling warning...

"In the councils of government, we must guard against the acquisition of unwarranted influence, whether sought or unsought, by the military-industrial-complex. The potential for the disastrous rise of misplaced power exists and will persist. "

[I've always *loved* the photo above. It's by Richard Avedon, one of the all-time-great photogs. People criticized it, thought it was somehow exploitive--that he looks too out of it. I couldn't disagree more. He looks wise and wary, but also peaceful.]

Ike comes across as a concerned, smart hero in this. His children and people who knew him talk of how disgusted he was with bombings on Hiroshima and Nagasaki--viewing it as a horrific mistake. He also is said to have been overwhelmed and angry with how much of the budget wasput towards building defense. He cited the how the poor(as well as any other facet of our nation that needed funding) had less opportunity, less federal funds because of our insatiable desire to conquer the world.

Every time the images of Dubya, Rummy or Cheney appeared there was an audible reaction from the crowd as well as a group squirming in our seats. It's just too real.

Please see this movie. As horribly depressed or as helpless as you may feel afterwards, it's worth it.