Monday, July 31, 2006

Friday, July 28, 2006

one must remember...

...that I was born the very same week that MTV was... Their b-day was Aug. 1st, 1981 and mine was the 8th.

For better or worse...I think it explains plenty.

I have had the pleasure/torture of watching cable at my pa's crib for the past two days. I was knocked on my ass by the muthafuckin' flu. Good lord do I hate this illness. This one in particular. All delirious and shit. Ugh.

inevitably, I *always* think of the same thing when I get to that crazy-state: Neil Young with his fever/delirium writing the masterpieces "Cowgirl In The Sand" and "Down By The River." And, inevitably I think/bemoan: why can't *I* do something creative? All I can muster is propping myself up to watch trashy VH1 shows.

The one very cool thing: in honor of the 25th Anniversary of MTV and Brianna,VH1 Classic played the first hour that ever aired; the first video ever? you know it: the Buggles, "Video Killed The Radio Star."

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

by the time we got to...

the PEOPLE at the festivals in my mind, by the numbers:

10KLF, this year: "around 18,000"

Glastonbury, 2005: 150, 000

Coachella, the year I went, 2004 was sold out at 100,000. Damn.

Lollapalooza in 2005: over 65,000

and....the Mutha of 'em all: Woodstock, 1969, at OVER 500, 000. that's a lot of fucking hippies. gawd, I wish I coulda been alive and in my prime then....

the joy of music outdoors

Upon (still) recovering from last weekend's fantastic, magic-carpet-ride-of-a-festival, 10KLF*,I am in obsessive-ready-to-go-right-fucking-now to my next Big Journey: Lollapalooza in Chicago!

*a quick, quick explanation of why 10KLF was such a wonderful experience full of pleasant surprises:

~stumbling upon kickin' performances

~feeling part of a "scene" that is simply really positive and TOTALLY different from anything I've seen in the 20-plus years of shows I've gone to...a refreshing and inspiring experience: people were...NICE to each other.

~the wonderful company I was with.

~ hearing these covers and LOVING the new, fresh versions of them:

When The Stars Go Blue: Joan Osborne and her sexy/soulful voice with Phil Lesh doing the duet of the Ryan Adams-penned song. (This was a phenomenal version, and I am a big fan of the Bono/Corrs rendition, so that's saying a lot)

Tangerine: Big Head Todd and the Monsters did one of my all-time fave Zeppelin tunes justice and then rocked the-fuck-out of another number straight afterwards. Totally shocking, totally rocking.

Who Are You? Friggin' Trey Anastasio JOYFULLY pumped this Who staple out (this guy *might* be one of the happiest musicians I have ever seen on stage, next to John Fogerty)
the last song Trey played was Get Back , so fitting and an ultimate-crowd-sing-along...Wotta rooftop song. ;)

Rain Song & Won't Get Fooled Again The Big Wu cranked these heavies out and the crowd lapped it up. I was beaming.

Hell's Bells: walked by this one, the most unfortunately-named-band-ever: String Cheese Incident [shudder] rolled into this one. Nothing spectacular, but it represented the fact that our camp site, (our peeps, that is) were blasting AC/DC into the wee hours of the Detroit Lakes night. I think we scared some hippies. Fuck 'em. ("look out! It's rough and mean")

Back to Lollapalooza thoughts...
My mind continues to fixate on ALL THE BANDS that are gonna be there; it's extremely overwhelming. Thank gawd for Jessica, because she really gave me a great primer on what she would see if she was there, and she knows a shit-ton about Indie bands I don't know shit about. Come to think about it--I really, really need to go over the line-up with Paul, again, for that very same reason.)

The only real bummer appears to be the (inevitable) double-booking of two (or more) bands at the samefuckingtime. Grr. SO frustrating! (130 bands, EIGHT STAGES) Of course, my plan is to check out both sets, even though the thought of leaving Manu Chao in order to see at least *some* of Kanye West's set seems like an impossibility. (how can one leave a Chao dance party!?)

check it: (my MUSTS & try-to's in yellow.)

Red Hot Chili Peppers
Kanye West
Manu Chao

Death Cab For Cutie
The Raconteurs
The Flaming Lips
Queens of the Stone Age
The Shins
Ryan Adams

Umphrey's McGee
Sonic Youth
Thievery Corporation
Nickel Creek
Blues Traveler
Broken Social Scene
The New Pornographers
Iron & Wine
Poi Dog Pondering
The Secret Machines
Built To Spill
Panic! At the Disco
The Disco Biscuits
Reverend Horton Heat
The Smoking Popes
Andrew Bird
Gnarls Barkley

Lyrics Born
Lady Sovereign
Nada Surf
The Frames
The Hold Steady
The Go! Team
Mates of State
The Redwalls
Mute Math
The Subways
Of Montreal
Blue October
Jeremy Enigk
Living Things
Sound Team
The M's
Hot Chip
The Benevento-Russo Duo
Matt Costa
The New Amsterdams
deadboy & the Elephantmen
The Burden Brothers
What Made Milwaukee Famous
Husky Rescue
The Towers of London
Ohmega Watts
Boy Kill Boy
Jim Noir
The Standard
Be Your Own Pet
Elvis Perkins
Trevor Hall
Katie Todd Band
The Candy Band (Kidz)

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

two of my all time FAVES: Bobby Darin & Stevie Wonder

and one of my all time favorite songs. Chills. Chills in the 95-degree-apartment...

oooh, Xtina. to me.

I just love how it all goes on over a GIANT VINYL RECORD....dfjghdkhgudfguafhduhg. really.

I might

JUST listen to Oasis from now on.

I feel like I'm getting all of my four food groups...

1. big, anthemic choruses

2.blistering/melodic guitar solos ringing out with perfection and Noel-arrogance

3.(sometimes) inspiring lyrics

4. Brit 'tude

(watch! as this turns into "SuperSize Me: Music Edition" BritPop wreaks havoc on the brain and body instead of Big Macs. That endorphin-inducing chemical, found in cheese is now found in the way Noel writes a riff.)

Monday, July 17, 2006

just cannot get angry in the same, not in the saaame way...oh, no...

I like this:

Anyone can become angry.
That is easy.
But to be angry with the right person,
to the right degree,
at the right time,
for the right purpose
and in the right way.
That is not easy.
--------- Aristotle

I think proper anger (see above) is a good thing.

Joe Strummer knew that ("let fury have the hour/ anger can be power/ do you know that you can use it?" gawd. I love that fucking line). So did Malcolm X. And Muhammad Ali. And Jackie Robinson was more angry than anyone really knew (all that turning the other cheek business is pretty fucking hard to do when baserunners try to cut you with their cleats. fuckers.) I like listening to Camille Paglia when she's pissed off...even when she feels betrayed by Madonna now. Oh, yeah, Madonna, too. I love her rebel-anger, ooh boy.

Sometimes it gets you in trouble, though. Like the man said, it's not easy to use it well. There's that line of pop-psychology that Melfi says to Tony at one point on the Sopranos (wow, talk about pop-pop...) she says that anger is just depression turned outward. I think that's usually true.

But...when you take a look can you not be depressed and angry at the world...sometimes? Cuz, what's the opposite? Complacency? Got to rage against that shit, man. Not all the time...but take some time and get angry every now and then, because I think it means you actually care.

Sunday, July 16, 2006

before Shania Twain

There was Bobbie Gentry....and her navel

"You know it don’t seem right..".

The Smothers Bros!? ... out comes Bobbie Gentry in this scandalous lil’ number, great sensual control over her hips and hey–um, wow–she’s really hot. But, wait! The next tune, her glory, "Ode to Billy Joe" evokes the dark and dirty deep South–-suicide, teenage pregnancy and killing the baby. This is one of those songs that most people know the words to (those who lived during the "controversy" of it or at least those of my generation who listened to KOOL 108 when they were 10 years old.) For me, it was one of the very first times lyrics to a song affected me. I knew she was touching on some really dark shit when I heard that ominous guitar lick and her lazy, sexy drawl of a voice slide over the story of "me and Billy Joe." ..."dropped it into the muddy water,"still gives me chills...

This is a song I have had multiple different obsessions with over the years. The way I first started to hear the song over and over again, however, was not on the radio. It was on the Staple of My Nascent Music World: Time Life Classic Rock cassettes. I remember reading a quote from Bobbie Gentry, who I knew nothing else about, in the liner notes. It was something like: "I don’t sing white or colored" I just sing the South, or the truth, or something righteous like that. And the beauty part was, at ten years old, I had no idea if she was white or black. I figured she was probably black. The voice on the recording was so goddamn soulful and "black eyed peas" and "picking cotton"was self-explanatory I thought (not fully realizing, at that age, that there was a whole world of *both* white and black people from the South who were poor).

So, here’s Gentry, in all her glory: smart, literate, musically gifted, sexy, beautiful, white and a woman who wrote and performed her own songs in a world that hadn’t seen anyone like her, really...ever.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

addicted to love...still creaming over the Clash...hating the heat

I write this, sitting in virtual darkness, at my place of employment. Why? Because it’s chillllly. And my apartment is an inferno of stuffy, Minnesota heat. And I can’t fucking stand it right now. So. I sit and I write and I listen to music and it’s wonderful. No one is around, so it’s chill in every way possible.

Today, my dad sent me his madawesome results from typing in Top of the Pops into the phenomenon that is YouTube. (TOTP, RIP, by the way.
The BBC staple is being cancelled after 42 years! Boo-urns!)

They included, beyond TOTP:

Footage from 1967 of Syd Barrett (also, RIP)

Oasis' first spot

The La’s in 1990, singing that one song about smack I still adore.

We Are the World, 1985

(um…yeah. wow. ‘member that!? Um, ‘member that *everyone* did it? Bob fucking Dylan. And these guys: Dan Aykroyd, Harry Belafonte, Lindsey Buckingham, Kim Carnes, Ray Charles, Sheila E., Bob Geldof, Hall and Oates, James Ingram, Jackie Jackson, LaToya Jackson, Marlon Jackson, Michael Jackson, Randy Jackson, Tito Jackson, Al Jarreau, Waylon Jennings, Billy Joel, Cyndi Lauper, Huey Lewis, Kenny Logins, Bette Midler, Willie Nelson, Jeffery Osborne, Steve Perry, The Pointer Sisters, Lionel Richie, Smokey Robinson, Kenny Rogers, Diana Ross, Paul Simon, Bruce Springsteen, Tina Turner, Dionne Warwick, Stevie Wonder.)

And, his emails included loads of other gems.

There is something about seeing someone live for the very first time: their facial expressions and ticks, their speaking voice, they way they move their body, the way they look someone on the eye, or avoid eye contact... someone you've only heard on is quite a mindfuck.

Seeing Richard Ashcroft speak for the first time got me right in my gut. First of all, I didn’t know how beautiful I would find him: those pouty Jagger lips, tussled hair, blue-green eyes, and then I heard that deep, sexy Wigan burr. It’s just so strange to hear a vocalist’s singing voice when you’ve *only* heard them sing. (there’s a bit in one of the Barrett obits about Bowie crediting Ray Davies and Syd with being the first to actually keep their Brit accents whilst singing).

Being able to use YouTube to see performances of bands and artists that are dead, or will most likely *not* be stopping by First Ave…ever, is especially precious.

I have been tripping on punching things like “the clash” in that search box. Seeing the Clash perform live is one of the most invigorating jolts I could ever get from a grainy little picture on my computer. The manic energy, the speedy playing, the tightness of the band and Strummer, my lord, Strummer. With his anger, his joy, his indestructible *passion* and intelligence (the street, reading-books-on-yer-own-type-a-smarts) that shaking, HYPERsexual leg bounce thing he does (Ike does it too) that makes like a punk Elvis. He twitches, he spits, he sweats and he plays like it’s the last thing he might ever do—every time.

What pleasure inducing technology! And I mean pleasure, baby. The Simonon eye candy to stage right of Joe = pornographic. Good lord, the boy swivels his goddamn hips and it’s earth quaking.

I can’t over the Clash. Still. You who know me, know this. Maybe it's just that I read more news now than—no---that can’t be it...(in J-school we *had* to subscribe to the NY Times and I've really always been a news junkie...) so, yes, I stand by my previous statement: the word "clash" is in the headlines and in our consciousness like crazy recently. Just like it was in 1977 and countless times before and after that, I suppose…

So, YouTube’s got me fucking hooked. I could pour over that thing for hours. Days. Months. Just plugging in bands….
Here’s a taste:

***I just read something that made me actually have some respect for Lindsey Lohan! (despite her good acting and freckles, she’s incredibly disappointing) she apparently sang Boston’s “More Than a Feeling” *and* Rick Springfield’s “Jessi’s Girl” for her b-day karaoke. Damn, those are the best guilty pleasure songs EVA. Good for her.

****Ooooh, my iPod on shuffle has been so good to me today! right now, it's:"Oooooh, you’ve got green eyes, oooh you’ve got blue eyes/ oooh, you’ve got grey eyes/ and I’ve never seen anyone quite like you before/ No, I’ve never met anyone quite like you before.” That, of course, is “Temptation” by New Order. Coulda come to me one of two ways: from “Substance” or the Trainspotting soundtrack (it was the later).

...and preceded by:
The Jesus and Mary Chain
Live Bruce Springsteen
Manu Chao
Buddy Holly and the Crickets
The Rascals

Thought I’d share…it’s put me in a good mood all day. Well, that and ….that love thing that’s goin’ around.

Thursday, July 06, 2006


I was always freaked out a little at the overt sexuality of the video for Chris Isaak’s song "Wicked Game." The whole Herb Ritts rolling-clouds-still-black-and-white-photo turned music video erotica, featuring a topless Helena Christensen and Isaak getting it on it the sand was iconic. This was actually TOO hypersexual for my young brain to take (I was only NINE YEARS OLD when I first saw it–on heavy rotation–I watched a lot of MTV during my childhood, you have to understand.....)

And I always had a little something against Isaak... He so obviously wanted to *be* Elvis Presley, and I thought: get a new look and sound, dude. I was just reading the list of producers on his tracks of his greatest hits (my mom’s!), and out popped Eric Rosse, who was not only boyfriend and producer of Tori Amos, but also is responsible for producing Lisa Marie Presley’s debut record. How funny is that? The kind of funny that made Nick Cage wham-bam-marry Presely. PRESLEY.....I slagged him awf as adult contemporary....he’s two years younger than my mom, fer crying out loud....which actually makes the whole Elvis thing a little more acceptable...

ANYWAY. My young mind was too distracted and even a little bothered by all the sexxxxxiness of that famously sexual video (including very skillfully simulated sex, I must remind you). I never actually *heard* the song, you see...I just saw it. It was inextricably tied to the video I had seen and I forgot about the song, really.

Then a few months ago, an old friend from high school, contacted me through myspace, and she had it on her profile. The song took me out with a wallop. It sounded really outta place and felt like it just stopped everything. It felt like it was gonna rain. That kind of ominous, sexy anticipation.

And now I am really listening to it. And I’m loving it. It’s a bit weird for me to like this slow of music. But it evokes that sexy, superstoned Twin Peaks vibe, where Audrey Horn is all swaying in her saddle shoes with her statutory thighs and what not.

And it also does something wonderful: it really makes you wanna hear the Real Elvis and the Real Roy Orbison.

oh. And I know yer thinking about it. you can watch it here. (Don’t be shy, 42, 000 plus people already have gone there and..."viewed it")


I find it so...awesome that 50 Cent and Dubya share the same birthday. Today, you know.

Somehow that makes everything just a little more surreal and....fucking funny.

it's about freakin time

The Emmy noms came out dee da...


Denis Leary FINALLY got acknowledged for his amazing blend of drama *and* comedy (dramedy, if you will...hehehe) on "Rescue Me." Damn, I'm still trying to get Fitzy to watch it. The man *needs* to see hurts me.

SO, Mr. Sneering Leary got it, along with my other fave, the man who could (almost) do no wrong as Nate Fisher...Peter Krause, from ''Six Feet Under,'' got a nom, too.

Also nominated, with my hunks of men, Kiefer Sutherland, ''24,'' Fox; Martin Sheen, ''The West Wing,'' NBC.

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

this is my brain

In a Rolling Stone interview, Cameron Crowe talked about how he still has music mixes he made (for himself, naturally) from 30 years ago....he used to make one per week.

(boy, I'd sure like to get my ears on some of those...)

I have been kinda doing the same thing...I'm not that...good. But, I try to regularly compile a mix of sorts, for myself, on my iPod that will last me about a week or two. It feels journalistic and clearly shows where my brain is at, at those particular periods of time. Looking back at ones I made in the winter and comparing them to now is surreal. I sometimes burn a disc of one that sticks with me and I slap on the date with a title and keep it.

It helps put things in perspective, writing and reading both do for me...and, it really helps in those moments when I question my sanity...(when it comes to my obsessive feelings and impulses about music, that is)...I wonder: do *other* people constantly have songs running through their head, in silence or cconverations with others? do *other* people get as fixated over a lyric for days at a time? or get all crazy-tingle-town-through-the-bod when they hear a riff they've heard a hundred times before?


then I stop my swirrrling thoughts and I think about how virtually everyone listens to *some* music everyday. and how, even "normal" people I know listen to the same song or album over and over again...well, maybe not anyone "normal"...what the fuck is normal, again? remind me.

here's the latest.

1. To Be Young (Is to Be Sad, Is to Be High) 3:04 Ryan Adams Heartbreaker
2. Time Of Your Song 4:29 Matisyahu Youth
3. This Is The One 4:59 The Stone Roses The Stone Roses [UK]
4. There She Goes 2:42 The La's The La's 2
5. The Patriot Game 4:17 The Dubliners Uncut - Tracks That Influenced Bob Dylan
6. The Needle Has Landed 3:45 Neko Case Fox Confessor Brings The Flood
7. Sweet Black Angel 2:58 The Rolling Stones Exile On Main Street
8. Regulate 4:08 Warren G and Nate Dogg Regulate...G Funk Era 3
9. Reason To Believe 4:10 Bruce Springsteen Nebraska
10. Space And Time 5:36 The Verve Urban Hymns
11. Love Spreads 5:46 The Stone Roses Second Coming
12. La Isla Bonita 3:47 Madonna The Immaculate Collection
13. In Your Eyes 5:23 Peter Gabriel So
14. Hold On, Hold On 2:46 Neko Case Fox Confessor Brings The Flood
15. Hey Hey What Can I Do 3:56 Led Zeppelin Coda
16. From Here to Eternity 3:15 The Only Ones Special View
17. Everyday 2:10 Buddy Holly & The Crickets From The Original Master Tapes

notice the LACK of the Clash, ladies and gents....?

Sunday, July 02, 2006

The Stone Roses continue their regime in my fucking ears and brain and soul

Mary Lucia and co. used to play this song, "Love Spreads" on Rev 105 and I loved it and never learned or remembered who it was.

turns out, it's the goddamn Stone Roses. of course.

dig that ol' time religion, cat. there's the bit that makes me think of the Stones, the Rolling Stones, that is: hear 'em whip the women just around midnight...Brown fucks with the Jesus thing and makes her black and a woman. all in one song. there's this crazy, menacing bass line that sounds like the foundation for a million "new metal" bands and there's Ian's Mancunian accent. "the Messiah-err is my sistah.." Squire's guitar is, as always brilliant. his work swirls, it creeps and it sounds almost like he's channeling the American South or Zepp or a lil Hendrix.

oh, and I learned a FunFact! **Beck makes a cameo appearance in the U.S. video for Love Spreads as a gold-prospector

Love Spreads

Love spreads her arms
Waits there for the nails
I forgive you boy, I will prevail

Too much to take, some cross to bear
I'm hiding in the trees with a picnic
She's over there, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah

She didn't scream
She didn't make a sound
I forgive you boy, but don't leave town
Coal black skin, naked in the rain
Hammer flash in the lightning
They're hurting her again

Let me put you in the picture
Let me show you what I mean
The Messiah is my sister
Ain't no king man, she's my queen

Let me put you in the picture
Let me show you what I mean
The Messiah is my sister
Ain't no king man, she's my queen
I had a dream, I've seen the light
Don't put it out, yeah she's all right
Yeah she's my sister

She didn't scream
She didn't make a sound
I forgive you boy, but don't leave town
Coal black skin, naked in the rain
Hammer flash in the lightning
They're hurting her again
Yeah, yeah, yeah

Let me put you in the picture
Let me show you what I mean
The Messiah is my sister
Ain't no king man, she's my queen(x8)

I had a dream, I've seen the light
Don't put it out, yeah she's alright
Yeah, she's my sister