Steady Bloggin'

Every now and again, I like to take some time out to talk about some jams I downloaded during the week- This week is no exception.....or is it? Wait, no it's not an exception, that just sounded kinda good....or did it? Wait. This week was....fuck it. Ok, so last week nobody really got on my case about Skynyrd, which is sweet- but then again, nobody really reads this, so it doesn't matter a whole lot. Does it? That "does it?" question is a result of me temporarily living with a British. They all make statements and tack on a question. Isn't it? Actually, it's more slangy- innit? Oh, hi....did you see that Cash In The Attic geezer on the telly? He's a bit naff. Inn he?

This week I was full of the Arctic Monkeys. I love it when they pick a band and hype the living shit out of them. It's really obvious when it happens. When I used to work at Off The Record in historic Royal Oak, MI, we felt the Full Bluntal Nugity of the "machine." There was this shit band called Blinker The Star (nice name- they are Canadian) who were the recipients of "the push" back in like 1999. We got a shitload of boxes containing every conceivable promotional item possible- everything from window clings to magnets with lcd lights that blinked to store displays to stickers to kitchen ware to a bunch of other shit that remained in boxes because they sent one every fucking day for a week. And we all know how effective that campaign was. The band just recently(2001) decided that "a big record label wasn't what we're really all about"....an independent label "gives us a lot more freedom to persue our own idiosynchratic form of expression." Now read that last bit again like Val Kilmer as Jim Morrison would. Or wait, better yet, re-read it like Kyle McClaughlin playing Ray Manzarek. Start every sentence off with "Morrison..." and change evey pronoun to "Morrison," or "man." As those of you who know me know, I love it in movies when there is unnecessary formalism between two characters- i.e. Ray Manzarek always addressing Jim Morrison as "Morrison," in Oliver Stone's hilarious send-up of Jim Morrison's life, The Doors. And, lest we forget, my all-time favorite- Pollock. When Lee Krasner( Marcia Gay Hardin) says "you've done it, Pollock, you've busted it wide open"! Which may or may not have been true- I mean Lee Krasner basically changed Pollock's diapers, so I guess they could have been weird and formal. I think it might have more to do with it seeming unbelievable and unnatural- the same thing happens in Basquiat when Andy Warhol(David Bowie) keeps feyly saying "Jean Michael....." but overuses it a couple times too many, Jean Michael.
Anyway, The Arctic Monkeys. They're not bad. They're not great. It took England approximately 5 years to get their own Strokes (not that there's anything wrong with that), but now they have them. Yay. Or, er, cheers! Or maybe I'm way off- the Libertines might have fit that category better. So England finally got their Libertines without the junkie assholes.
The Arctic Monkeys- A Certain Romance
Ok, first off, The Arctic Monkeys is a horrible band name. Second-of-ly, who was in charge of the font and logo? Step into my office. You're fucking fired. Thirdly, this is a great song. If you can get over the "classic Reeboks" lyric, you're home free. I hate when actual products get mentioned in songs- not that it's a plug or anything- it just kind of trivializes the other lyrical content....if there is anything worthy of non-trivialization. It could be the reference that dates the song. I mean it's sort of like if Ludacris referenced Air Force Ones....wait. Bad example. How about if the Kinks referenced Coca-Cola. Oh, I see. How about Little Richard referencing Rolaids. It just detracts a bit. It might just be that this band is a bunch of shitheads who think they've got their fingers on the pulse of British youth culture. Or, better yet, they think they're actually young, and not a bunch of 31-year old session musicians who's first band, The Polar Chimps failed miserably (cue rim shot). Is thing on? You heard it here first! Anyway, the great thing about this song is that it actually sounds like a young band actually wrote it. Not since Supergrass' I Should Coco has a band sounded so goddamn youth-y, culture-y, and British-y. Innit? Are they worthy of the hype? Not any more than Art Brut, the Libertines, or that other shitty British band. But it's like all my friends said- "I saw them on Saturday Night Live....uh....they were pretty good...I might buy the album."
Yeah Yeah Yeahs- Cheated Hearts
I was under the impression I would like this song and it would "grow" on me. I was also under the impression that the YYYs didn't suck so bad. I was also under the impression that using "YYYs" instead of "Yeah Yeah Yeahs" was a cheap indie music critic crutch. Whatever. Perhaps I should quantify and qualify this. Fever To Tell was a great record. Great guitars, great songs, great hooks. Show Your Boners has poopy guitars, poopy songs, and is, in fact, a poop. What happened? If I want a wussy melodic rock record, I've got the Flaming Lips to listen to. I just don't get it. Do us a favor, before you try to convince your critcs and your fans that you've made a great record, try convincing yourself. Karen O has gone from "fully erect" to "Semi," if I may use the Hustler porn review scale. It sounds like she's phoning it in. there's none of the er, fever to tell us about. The guitar sounds all gay, too. Don't get me wrong, I like the song enough, it's just a good song for another band.They definitely need to fire the producer. It's like what ever happened to Williamsburg art-damage?! Another one bites the dust. Sophomore style.
Band Of Horses- The Funeral
Ok, already. I'm kinda fucking tired of liking Sub Pop bands. It seems like every time I listen to a jam, it's by some band I've never heard of, then like poof! I research the dumb band and they're on fucking Sub Pop. What's up, A&R? Sub Pop has consistently been a hit-or-miss record label- they've had their droughts and such( they actully put out a Chixdigit record), and the levee has broken about twice in the last 20 years, so.... We can't really blame them for all the peripheral grunge, but it is totally and completely their fault I have heard Zen Geurilla at some point in my life- thanks a fucking lot. Anyway, they're all over Wolf Parade, The Shins, and Kelley Stoltz and have all but molested us with Kurt's friend's band....Earth. Apparently, Earth's career has gotten a bit of a, pardon me, shot in the arm, as of late. And I will always hold a grunge for what they did to The Go, by not releasing the now legendary Free Electricity LP. Whatever the case, I'm into the new Sub Pop.
Case in point: Band of Horses. Apparently, these guys were some dumb fucking band I never heard of ( who now garner some sort of postmortem "beloved" or "Genius" status). And strangely enough, they sound similar to My Morning Jacket, yet there have been no blatent comparisons between Ben Bridwell and Jimmy Jame's similar voices- also sounding a lot like the Shins/Mercury Rev/Flaming Lips at times. Which is weird, cuz like you'd think that the guys at Pitchfork would be having a circle jerk over another whiny bitch that sounds like Jimmy James. Funeral, the track I actually bought, sounds like it was recorded in an empty swimming pool- those sound echo-y right? Well, then some sort of concrete tunnel that they use for something. And it is a fucking jam. Like I would have no hesitation playing this in front of a bunch of people. I wouldn't be embarassed or anything. I'd just wait for someone to say "hey, who is this?" and then I'd be all " It's this band on Sub Pop called Band Of Horses," and they'd be like "no shit."

BLACK PENCILS

Right, so I was in Chicago last week for a career-related conference when my world was turned upside down. I was at an art education conference that they hold every year at various Hiltons throughout the country. I have to admit, it's a little weird getting the lunch buffet knowing full well that I was contributing to the Paris Hilton-Princess-Cut-Canary-Yellow Diamond-Encrusted Dildo Fund. It made the sky darken, the turkey taste metallic and the ranch dressing curdle at the salad bar. But fuck it, I was hungry and wasn't about to go to the Artist's Cafe down the street where all my art-fag brethren were sucking on Marcel Duchamp's Sausage (sandwich). Imagine their surprise and delight when they received a tuna sandwich on a bicycle seat and a case of the Clap- try explaining that one on your expense report. ZINGER! Art history humor fucking blows. Anyway, after lunch, I tried to avoid getting stuck on the elevator with a clown who was dressed up like Vincent Van Gogh. What a dick. It's not like this is the fucking medieval festival or a science fiction festival, or a NASCAR event, even. He was the one prick out of 4,000 who decided to embrace his "creativity" and just "shine" at the conference this year! He must have felt that his standard issue crappy beard/scholarly yet modern glasses/cargo pants/ paint-spattered cross-trainers/clever art reference shirt thing wouldn't quite set him apart from the other art educators. After I avoided that crappy guy, I made my way down to the exhibitor area where they have a bunch of schmendricks who basically give a bunch of free crap away to you to try to land an order. There wasn't anything great- the odd Sharpie, an occasional pair of Fiskars scissors, some new over-hyped gel technology water-based markers....but then it happened. I approached the Dixon booth with full intentions of scoring vast quantities of Dixon Ticonderoga HB(#2) Pencils. Ok, so I have a pencil problem. Someone once tried to get me to join a "I Love Ball-Point Pens" group and I just about threw up all over her face. Ball-point pens are for amateurs. I think whomeverthefuck at Bic who designed the Biro should be put on trial for crimes against elegance. I mean how fucking hillbilly can you get? Promotional pens look better than those things. The only really cool technology that has come with the ball-point is the Astronaut Pen- and that's mostly due to the Space Program being totally fucking awesome. Big ups to NASA. But the Astronaut Pen was engineered so spacemen could use ball-point pens upside-down in space! Hey, governmet: PENCILS ALREADY WRITE UPSIDE-DOWN IN OUTER SPACE. Fisher Manufacturing company did do a nice job on their pen, though.

If anybody knows anything about anything, you can't fuck with the Ticonderoga- it's pretty much the Cadillac of #2 pencils. America's #1 pencil! First introduced in 1913, the Joseph Dixon Crucible Company wanted a name that represented "a fine American name for a fine American pencil." They named the pencil Ticonderoga after Fort Ticonderoga, a military postin New York.
With production of nearly a half a billion pencils a year, the Ticonderoga has become the #1, most recognized, and revered pencil throughout America and the world. Try one of their quality Ticonderoga products and discover for yourself why each and every one of their pencils is the motherfucking whip! I remember seeing Ticonderoga boxes as a youngster and just being floored( in an office supply way) by the illustration of the soldier on the box. Plus, there used to be mystery to office supplies. There wasn't a bunch of Office Depots or Max's around- the internet had yet to destroy Jack White's soul, it was a time of innocence...except for that whole Iran thing. You had to know someone in business to get into an office supply store, and luckily, I knew my dad. It all seemed so adult. I also think I was probably attracted to the Warholian repetition of stacked boxes, but I'd sound like a prick if I ever told you that.
Whatever the case, I approached the booth and just about flipped my wig when I saw the new Ticonderoga Black. The subtle matte finish made a powerful statement. Crafted from reforested California cedar with graphite core. It was like taking your favorite pencil and instead of getting it in school-pencil yellow, it comes in black. And not just any black- the mother of all blacks: matte. If I had to sum up this pencil's aesthetic for you in one word, it would be "striking." It has a long, hard, black shaft... Easy. The tip, however is still standard issue vulcanized rubber eraser (except it's fuck-yeah black) and double-crimped ribbed aluminum with the signature Ticonderoga green bands accenting the classy yet playful yellow bands. Needless to say, this pencil is the pencil to beat out of all the '06 models. And that's what I did in Chicago. The End.

P.S. In Chicago, they have a subway system called the "El." I believe it is called that because of it being primarily elevated, instead of subterranean like other subway systems. And for some reason, the bell-tone that goes off at every stop is the same first two notes Andrew Loog Oldham used in the Rolling Stones' Out Of Time. The Metamorphosis version- not the Flowers/Aftermath version. So every time it went off, I had to finish the orchestration in my head and kick in with You don't know what's going on. You've been away for far too long, You can't come back and think you are still mine. You're out of touch, my baby, my poor discarded babyI said, baby, baby, baby, you're out of time. Which is cool, unless your hotel room is right next to an El stop and you hear it every 15 minutes starting at 6:00 A.M. til about noon. Then it just drives you up the fucking wall. It would be like if you heard the the first few notes to Stairway To Heaven every time you open your car door. I mean Stairway is a fucking jam, but fuck that.

Of Rachael Ray And The Speed Limit

So, there I was, thumbing through the latest issue of Rachael Ray's new magazine, Everyday With Rachael Ray, at my local Bed, Bath, & Beyond. And before you say anything- I was interested in the "beyond" part- you should see their collection of ancient astronaut artifacts (including a Chariots Of The Gods closet organizer). Anyway, as I was reading about Rachael Ray's philosophies, I noticed that not once did she mention what a shitty tipper she is. have you ever seen her tip? She tips 12% on her $40.00 a day. That means she spends $4.80 on gratuities throughout the day. If it's just breakfast, lunch, and dinner, that tip money is divided by 3, for a grand total of approximately $1.60 per meal. And that's if she just eats 3-square, which she never does, cuz Rach can't ever pass up some party scones after lunch. So divide it by 4. I don't know about you, but it just seems like she could go 15%, now that she's porking Oprah.
So as I was perusing the linens section, I mean Ghost Manifestation Evidence aisle, I started singing along to the music that was on the overhead speaker system. I think it was on what they are now referring to as a "Yacht Rock," station. I caught myself singing along to a most magical number entitled "Sentimental Gentleman" by Bob Welch. It's an old Fleetwood Mac "deep cut" that never "cut" the mustard, in fact, some cheese may have been inadvertently cut instead. Then along comes Bob's solo version (on his French Kiss record), and it's like WNIC's all over it- as omnipresent as Hall & Oates and Gerry Rafferty combined in the soft rock pantheon. You could almost sense Alan Almond's boner when he jammed it Pillow Talk-style. Not really, but it got me to thinking about how dumb music has had an impact on my life (I almost said profound impact, but uh, wait, what?).
When I think about crappy songs, it makes me sad. It makes me sad that I love them so much. But it's usually a little trigger during the day that makes me think of a crappy song. I mean, believe me, if I never heard a Joe Walsh song in my life, I think I'd be ok. I could manage. But, for some almost assuredly divine reason, I know for a fact that his Maserati goes 185. He lost his license, now he don't drive. They think he's crazy, but he has a good time. Life's been good to him so far. I sometimes think of this when the speedometer is approaching 85 mph. I also happen to know that Ted Nugent wants to have you pretend that your face is a Maserati and you should drive it directly into a shitty sexual innuendo:
I'll tell you what you gotta do. You got to pretend your face is a Maserati, it's a Maserati, it's a Maserati's a gettin' hotty. It's a Maserati, Maserati, Maserati. It's a fast one too man, that thing's turbocharged. You feel like a little fuel injection honey? I'll tell ya about it, I'll tell you about it. I'll check out the hood scoopI gotta get that hood scoop off, shine and shine and buffI gotta buff it up, buff it up, buff it up, buff it up, buff it up,Yeah, shiny now baby, heh heh heh You've been drivin' all night long it's time to put the old Maserati away, so you look for a garage, you think you see a garage...Wait a minute, Hey!, there's one up ahead!And the damn thing's open...Hello! Get in there!
I often recall this information when I see European sports cars.
A sagely Sammy Hagar encouraged law enforcement agents to "go on, write me up for 125" because of his inability to adhere to the posted speed limit of 55 mph. He simply couldn't drive 55. And fuck me if there isn't a bunch of 55 mph signs passed on a daily basis. The only saving grace is that the Minutemen had Double Nickels On the Dime, so thankfully I think about D. Boon instead.
OK, I have to admit, Sammy Hagar is a pretty easy target. Especially after that fucked up Mas Tequila thing. Oh, well, once you throw on the mellow top, it's hard to not want to hang out in Mexican resort town bars and champion alcoholic beverages. Spring Break does rule. Even if you're 48. To be continued...........................................................................

The Submarine Races

Oh, OK, we're on? Hi. I just got done writing the biography ("bio" for those in the biz) for my friends in the Submarine Races band. I thought I'd throw it up here. I mean, I'm not going to throw up here, I'ma post it up here. Sort of like in basketball- what the bigman does. Anyway, they're a great band and you should check their web site out- www.thesubmarineraces.com
Or, you can check they Myspace page. P.S., I do a local radio show called Radio Fever, hence the dumb signature.

Up periscope, sailor! There’s some hot-rocking on the horizon. Submarine Races are a threesome of arty rocker-types from Chicago, Illinois. Started in vain by guitarist/vocalist/explorist Ian Adams (Happy Supply, The Ponys), drummer/seaman Paul John Higgins, and bassist/best mate Steve Denekas (Entertainment, The Countdown), the ‘Races are off to a clean start. Borrowing freely from the entire Easybeats catalogue, commandeering the Modern Lovers’ understated efficiency, and all but sleeping with the entirety of mid-to-late 1980’s twee British guitar-pop bands, Submarine races have managed to make a signature sound that is both derivative and authentic at once! What with the current state of rock music being all apish bravado and emotionally-impaired dildoery, Submarine Races manage to remind us why you put the Pastels on mix tapes in the first place. They also happen to know what a good haircut can do for a young band’s confidence in “the game.” With a handful of jangled melodies, some polite lyrics, and an overabundance of charm, Submarine Races have set the coordinates for your stereo. Let’s just hope they don’t “deep-six” you after your hatch is cracked. Submarine Races debut album, The Submarine Races, was recorded in Chicago at El Goodo Audio and will be released on In The Red Records in June 2006. They even used the sonar recording technology found in the Soviet Alpha Class Diesel-Electric Attack Submarines! No joke. The band hope to sell an immeasurable amount of records, as long as piracy (both on the internet and at sea) is kept at bay. Nevertheless, Submarine Races’ popularity is surely surfacing - supporting top acts such as The Dirtbombs, Maximo Park, and the Sights in the first week of their existence. The ‘Races reputation for rocking and passionate live appearances has lead to consistent attendance at many of their subsequent headlining shows. While they aren’t “jamming,” members of Submarine Races enjoy making out, necking, hanging out at sailor bars, and watching Steve’s VHS copy of Das Boot. - The Wolf "Radio Fever" Saturday Nights 8pm-11pm WKRK 97.1 FM, Detroit

Computed Muzik

Ok, so I figure I spend about six or seven bucks a week on some downloadable jams off the internet- I prefer iTunes-mostly because I have an iPod- it's not like they're the big swingin' dicks in town or anything. That said, I'm going to go through my hott jamz that I snag every week and review them....or at least explain why I thought it was worth 99 cents.Now, most of you have no idea who I am or, what I am doing. So I guess I'll try to explain what types of music bands and performers I enjoy by making a short list of said acts, hereto and furthermore, notwithstanding. I will do this by picking a few bands from each decade- starting with the 1950's.
1950's- Elvis Presley, Bo Diddley, Carl Perkins, Chuck Berry, and Buddy Holly- duh.
1960's- The Kinks, The Rolling Stones, Them, The Velvet Underground, Bob Dylan, Captain Beefheart, Bob Seger, Donovan, The Easybeats, The Monks, Small Faces, Flying Burrito Brothers, Glen Campbell, The Walker Brothers, Iggy & The Stooges, Wilson Pickett, Sam & Dave, MC5, Love, Neil Young, The Zombies.... Ok. This is dumb. You get the picture.
1970's- The Damned, Joy Division, Bowie, Nick Drake, Queen, The Ramones, Rod Stewart, T. Rex, Kraftwerk, Can, The Undertones, Wire, The Temptations, Townes Van Zandt, Zeppelin, CCR, Rupert Holmes, Hall & Oates blah, Bubblegum that Johnny Krautner gives me, blah, blah.
1980's - Prince, The Replacements, The Jesus & Mary Chain, Pastels, Devo.........
1990's- Pavement? Wu Tang Clan, Supergrass, My Bloody Valentine
2000's- Gwen Stefani, Ying Yang Twins, Whatever. I'm soooo over myself at this point. So I guess I could have just summed it up by saying I never liked Whitesnake.So, this week's hott jamz:
Lynyrd Skynyrd- Simple Man. Ok, knock it off. I've been on an anthemic 70's kick for a few weeks, dick. It really is a great song- not as good as Tuesday's Gone, but the package is much more efficient- by like three minutes- that's like four Angry Samoans songs. Just throw it on and concentrate on Ronnie's vocals- he really was a killer. Pretend it's another more socially acceptable band...like Blackfoot...or better yet, just tell all of your poser friends it's the new Kings Of Leon. And please, do not pay attention to your girlfriend screaming "Freebird" at the party where you jam this.
Swearing At Motorists- Waterloo Crescent. I'm trying to figure this band out. I kind of like them. Other times, I'm like, "whatever!" Their songs are all short, but they're melodious and heartfelt- that still counts, right? I'm just not totally sold on the singer's voice. It sounds Canadian for some reason.
The Railway Children- Another Town. One of those bands that Dave Kendall (120 minutes) would utter in his English accent and you were sold. Just like The Fields Of Nephilim...uh...yeah. These guys had a pretty good record in Reunion Wilderness, but that's about all (they've been relegated to "cult" status, so you know, like The Sound was supposed to be the new Echho & The Bunnymen-Whateva!). It's sterotypical 80's British guitar pop. Just womanly and touchy-feely enough, for a bunch of football hooligans. Easily could have replaced the Smiths if they just would have killed them and stood-in at their remaining shows.
The American Analog Set- Choir Vandals. This one I likes because of the unnecessarily long band name. Sort of like Swearing At Motorists- coming from the Phrased/Overdescriptive school of band naming. But don't confuse that strain with emo band names that usually have a weekday and a verb or a preposition(A word or phrase placed typically before a substantive and indicating the relation of that substantive to a verb, an adjective, or another substantive, as English at, by, with, from, and in regard to) in the title. If you want to put everyone in the room asleep so you can put their hands in the warm water, this may be for you. These guys have been described as "minimalist" in their sound approach, but it's much more complicated than that. If you like Low, you already know about this band. If you don't, didn't you get the gift basket from the welcome wagon?
Black Flag- Wound Up. Yeah, it is Henry. And, yeah, it is from Slip It In. But I have a soft spot for the creepy crawl. He's sort of like that retarded kid who lives in your neighborhood, except in the greatest SoCal hardcore band ever (the Minutemen were Jazz). I love how angry Henry sounds over the hooky chords. Greg Ginn's guitar still effing kicks ass, as always. And Slip It In is definitely in the top 50 album covers of all time....of album covers featuring Raymond Pettibon art.
I'm exhausted.

So, Yeah. The Modern Yawn.

Ok, check me out. I'm totally internetting with you. You are the best I've had so far, my darling. Pinch me. This has taken some time to get going. I thought it might take a few phone calls and maybe a nice little bottle of 2004 Fox Creek Merlot, but now I'm thinking you're kinda easy. Easy like Sunday morning. This isn't exactly the web site I dreamed of as a child- as a matter of fact, I thought computers would still use punch cards. I had originally planned to do some website that cost a bunch of money that refered bored viewers to other websites of interest- music, art, shoes, humor, etc. You know, all the stuff I wanted to see but had no idea where to look- so then I realized that I'd have to look for all the crap I was going to make easy to find- which is fine if you get paid to do it, or are totally into what they call "Wilhelm Reich-ing" (ok, they don't really call it that).However, it's not exactly a sailboat ride when you're sitting in front of your stupid computer trying to find crap so that you might write it down and advertise other websites because you, yourself are bored. What I wanted to do, it dawned on me, was spend my money on other necessities like romantic comedy movies, individually downloaded songs, pants, fine art, crappy wine, and shoes (see my upcoming short lists next). I don't know where I'm going with this, but it beats Minesweeper or whatever. I'm hoping to write about the issues that affect me and the popular culture....and in doing so, maybe find out that you've always been my friend....or perhaps you have always been the caretaker here. I also want to have people contribute definitions to an unreliable and false internet resource - But I don't want to cart the horse just yet. I also want to replace the period with a dash- it lends itself nicely to guided style. This here wheel's on fire, so you'll have to forgive my glitches and shortcomings during my Beta phase. With a little luck, we can work it out, with a little push we could set it off-we can send it rocketing skywards, with a little love we could shake it up, don't you feel the comet exploding wo-wo-o. LET'S GET IT UP!!!