Tuesday, June 13, 2006
I Ain't Much, Baby--But I'm All I've Got
• Warning: If you've been thinking about picking up a copy of "Cresta" by minor Madchester act The Hollow Men because you haven't heard it in 15 years, and your memories are fond, not only is it not as good as you remember, it's not very good at all. However, if you happen across a used copy of Digital Underground's second album, "Sons of the P", it is exactly as good as you remember, which is quite good indeed.
• It is now obvious that Ana Marie Cox, nee Wonkette, planned her current situation (Time magazine commentator who fakes detached befuddlement at those icky progressive blogger creatures) from the very beginning. All of her ass-fucking jokes on Wonkette were studiously non-partisan. Anal sex jokes involving Denny Hastert invariably found their balance in anal sex jokes about Teddy Kennedy. Her shtick was calculated to attract the interest of dirty old Beltway pundits of the Howard Kurtz variety, who quickly and happily let her into the club because she was eager (even over-eager, which they like, it strokes their egos) to play their game by their rules. No Stephen Colbert, she. Her career trajectory is invaluable because it shows that the central value of the Russert/Kurtz/Matthews class is abject, soul-free whoredom. It would be nice to think that Cox's Time gig is some kind of high-level Andy Kaufmanesque gag played on an oblivious elite. And so I shall.
• For those of you who know what I'm talking about, WRMC volume three is nearly ready for release. Matt has been distracted with stupid, trivial things like buying a house, but now he seems to have his priorities back in order and the Rock shall recommence.
• Speaking of the Rock, pandora.com is a thing of wonder. Don't know what kind of music you like? Don't worry, Pandora does. Go, check it out, spend the rest of the day not working (like me right now!) Artist suggestions: The Stone Roses, Tito Puente, Death Cab for Cutie, Kelly Willis, Stan Kenton, Danger Doom, English Beat, Urge Overkill, Count Basie, Thin Lizzy, James Kochalka.
• Abe, one hour after watching The Wiz: "Mom, do you have any dance routines?" (She did. And I love her.)
• It is now obvious that Ana Marie Cox, nee Wonkette, planned her current situation (Time magazine commentator who fakes detached befuddlement at those icky progressive blogger creatures) from the very beginning. All of her ass-fucking jokes on Wonkette were studiously non-partisan. Anal sex jokes involving Denny Hastert invariably found their balance in anal sex jokes about Teddy Kennedy. Her shtick was calculated to attract the interest of dirty old Beltway pundits of the Howard Kurtz variety, who quickly and happily let her into the club because she was eager (even over-eager, which they like, it strokes their egos) to play their game by their rules. No Stephen Colbert, she. Her career trajectory is invaluable because it shows that the central value of the Russert/Kurtz/Matthews class is abject, soul-free whoredom. It would be nice to think that Cox's Time gig is some kind of high-level Andy Kaufmanesque gag played on an oblivious elite. And so I shall.
• For those of you who know what I'm talking about, WRMC volume three is nearly ready for release. Matt has been distracted with stupid, trivial things like buying a house, but now he seems to have his priorities back in order and the Rock shall recommence.
• Speaking of the Rock, pandora.com is a thing of wonder. Don't know what kind of music you like? Don't worry, Pandora does. Go, check it out, spend the rest of the day not working (like me right now!) Artist suggestions: The Stone Roses, Tito Puente, Death Cab for Cutie, Kelly Willis, Stan Kenton, Danger Doom, English Beat, Urge Overkill, Count Basie, Thin Lizzy, James Kochalka.
• Abe, one hour after watching The Wiz: "Mom, do you have any dance routines?" (She did. And I love her.)
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Ah, the Hollow Men. I recall, though, that even I, lover of all things pop and avid listener of all Madchester-era Madchester releases I could get my hands on in rural Vermont, didn't particularly like this album except for the track Misunderstood.
Does it, too, suck? Is it at least better than the rest of the album?
And, yes, completed Volume 3 will be on its way to the Distribution and Shipping Department presently.
Does it, too, suck? Is it at least better than the rest of the album?
And, yes, completed Volume 3 will be on its way to the Distribution and Shipping Department presently.
"Misunderstood" is okay. Overall, the album suffers from its thin, trebly production. For a music style based on grooves, this is a pretty big problem. Many of the tracks sound like a slightly more competent, somewhat more sincere Farm. The slower, more atmospheric "Pantera Rosa" is decent, perhaps because it deviates from the funky drummer formula a bit. The single, "November Comes" is weaker than I had recalled. It'll probably still show up on my WRMC comps somewhere. (At 17 discs and counting.)
Excellent news on the status of M-3. We'll try to get the packages in the mail early next week.
Excellent news on the status of M-3. We'll try to get the packages in the mail early next week.
I have all the track lists through July 2007 organized in my iTunes, and I've burned up through this August. My count includes 16 monthly installments (2 down, 14 to go), plus the special covers disc. I've left a little room on a couple of the later discs for tracks we haven't digitized yet, such as "Rainbow Man" by Jack Wenberg and "To Love Somebody" by Mule.
What an awesome power I wield, knowing I can and will make my friends listen to "Fuck You God" by The Leaving Trains this Thanksgiving.
But I fear I've said too much already. Our loyal members shouldn't see the sausage being made.
What an awesome power I wield, knowing I can and will make my friends listen to "Fuck You God" by The Leaving Trains this Thanksgiving.
But I fear I've said too much already. Our loyal members shouldn't see the sausage being made.
Let not thy head swell too greatly with preceived power! There is nothing stopping our loyal members from simply refusing to listen your muddiest sludge unearthings or my feyest twee pranceabouts.
After 17 or so CDs, our gracious recipients may very well beg the esteemed editors to, in fact, edit.
After 17 or so CDs, our gracious recipients may very well beg the esteemed editors to, in fact, edit.
Dude, the Farm really blows. I heard Groovy Train on the radio a few weeks ago on "New Wave Nation" (a syndicated radio program hosted by an old mtvj whose name escapes me right now). It was unbelievably horrible. What a terrible terrible terrible song. Maybe I used "whose" incorrectly. Not sure.
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