First of all, this band is great. JEFF The Brotherhood – apparently (thanks Terk) we played them on ICB. I couldn’t place where I’ve seen this band before. Leave it to a counter-part to slap me into an already familiar place. I got a burst of energy after only six hours of drunken sleep from the new Sasha Frere-Jones piece about Stevie Nicks’ new record. I never cared for her much. Despite my misunderstanding of the 1977 40 million copy selling Rumours and many overplayed Fleetwood Mac radio sing-a-longs, it inspired me to start the day. Buying some tickets, downloading new records out of boredom, taming the 15 person dropbox folder I coordinate, and finally, it led me to VICE Magazine. My lady Morgan got my a subscription to VICE, which I now look forward to unwrapping in the elevator whenever it remembers to arrive. Excuse it’s absence. Let me catch you up.
the JEFFs
Here is a short interview with the dad of the JEFFs. I’m glad he encouraged them. I’ve never fell so hard for such grit before. My brother-brother-in-law who lives in Portland and drums in a band (bands?) sends and discusses music with me. It’s nice to have someone seek out your opinion, and take it seriously, on something they’re creating. Like sharing writing, only more intimate. Reading about these punk brothers who dressed up as Luke Skywalker and Batman only makes me wish that my sisters and I would have veered from musical theater and blanket-tent-building to the world of heavy fuzz guitars and doo-wop sing-a-longs. (Although Zoe and Kyle gave me Cake and Joni Mitchell, respectively, I still wish there had been some Pavement, Pinkerton and Dinosaur Jr.) They are a cool band. It’s just another reminder when the deeper tracks of their records creep into my headphones that greatness ≠ fame.
Sometimes when I see old ladies with sleeve tattoos it makes me want to have some tattoos. Then I’m reminded not only the wrath I would face from my mom but that I one day would also be an old lady with sleeve tattoos. You don’t have to travel the world, shop in the dodgy end of town or lose your lover to side effects of a parasite from a foreign country to have fun with your clothes. In fact this week I found myself a real lady wearing mascara (rouge is next?) regularly and a different pair of pants (fun pants, yes, that I accidentally have become known (?) for) every day this week. Forget the fact that I got chocolate all over my jeans on Monday baking whoopie pies and remember that the more pants you have the less laundry you have to do. See: link above, the interviews in in VICE are witty and highlight sometimes, just the strangest. It’s a nice reminder that everything doesn’t have to be peachy-keen and straight laced. Their publication thrives on retelling awkward situations (included but not limited to) haggling, making rude comments, cleaning up filth and taking heavy drugs with strangers. It was the music portion that led my to JEFF The Brotherhood in the first place.
Since I’ve reached my limit on the 20 allotted NYTimes articles a week ago (stay tuned Morgan knows the way around the firewall) I’ve found myself creeping around to parts of the Internet that I hadn’t frequented before. Who knew it was so big. I guess I was under the spell of the Times. Sometimes when you’re everywhere, so good and so well respected I suppose a publication love affair needs to be cut off by just that, a firewall. So here’s something new. Before you think you’re better than me because you live in NY/BK (okay, sometimes I really do wish I lived there due to the foul functioning, cursed Metro system here) here’s a reminder of just how great you’ll never know DC is. RE: check out number one.
"MMJ"
And just as a side note. A favorite thus far from this year, and perhaps the sleeper hit that I hope no one overlooks – My Morning Jacket’s Circuital. A band I’ve never loved or hated, I’m finally turned on. Join me.
I once had a dream that I lost a big radio contest because I couldn’t name the other genius behind Steely Dan. And now, I never forget him. Walter Becker and Donald Fagen (in the running for world’s most unfortunate looking man) make up the records of Katy Lied, Gaucho, Can’t Buy A Thrill, The Royal Scam, Countdown To Ecstasy, Pretzel Logic and of course Aja – our album of the day.
Their distaste for West Coast hippies, while remaining hippies themselves all the way from Hudson, NY, is reflected in the tunes. Smart, funky, jazzy – their music has unique sounds and stories that make them who they are. (For an unknown reason, people I’ve come across in our parent’s generation and our own, always hate on this band. I never know why.) I saw them live with my dad in Camden, NJ in 2006 (Michael MacDonald opened) and it was great. I’ve loved them ever since.
i have this tee shirt somewhere..
Today our album of the day is brought to you by Tom Waits.
rain dogs
The list of personnel is endless, as is the list of instruments used in recording this album. 1985 never sounded so good.
Los Angeles has been creeping in on me for the last few days, so Waits seems all the more fitting here.
Raw, uncomfortable, commanding, thoughtful and meaty – this record shouldn’t have taken this long to reach me. Download here and enjoy yourself an off beat Wednesday.
underrated bliss
Of all the bands from the psychedelic era and to go even Further – get it? hahaha – I have declaired in the past and know it’s true that Jefferson Airplane is my favorite San Francisco band. Overshadowed by the Dead and only thought of for White Rabbit (which is on this record), this band is remarkable. They are purely psychedelic, full of musical genius and poetic. Have you ever listened to the lyrics of Somebody To Love? Just watch A Serious Man – growing to be one of the most underrated Cohen Brothers movies. It’s full of this band, weed jokes, dark humor, Jewish humor and lo fi mid sixties mid-western suburbia.
When the truth is found to be lies / and all the joy within you dies / don’t you want somebody to love / don’t you need somebody to love / wouldn’t you love somebody to love / you better find somebody to love
Since getting my records down to the district, I have been revisiting my favorite bands from high school, like Airplane, and I can fall in love with them all over again, just how it was meant to. On vinyl.
Think The Flaming Lips can’t get weirder? Think Again. Be sure to check the jump of the post.
Friday afternoon jams: Star Slinger’s Mornin’. Which I am failing at embedding here.
Also, the Black And Yellow dude, Wiz Khalifa, is in my office. RIGHT NOW, actually.
Manny, my cubemate, was going to have him sign his bong. Instead he just came back with a pack of Wiz Khalifa rolling papers.
It’s a lovely day in the District. But I’m headed home to the dirty jerz for the weekend. Kickin’ it with my mom, errands, getting my vinyl, and a dental visit.
Right now, my office is so quiet, it’s scary.
Have you seen this? Apatow and Paul Feig (Freaks And Geeks lovers unite) teamed up to make a female version of the Hangover. Literally, a wild trip to Vegas is involved and your basic shnenanigans. Apparently it’s a toss up between outright sluttage and boredum. Who knew?
If you think about it in its context, DOOKIE is a great record. “…apathy has rarely sounded so passionate.” – nytimes. “I’m not growing up, I’m just burning out.” The band from Oakland, CA that people now know as wearing eyeliner and platform doc martins, was once a 90s staple, instead of a Broadway show. (BUT if you think about it, American Idiot is a GREAT TRACK. Where else can you get away with such a lyric: “the subliminal mindfuck America”?) Billie Joe Armstrong has some harmonies and sleeper lines. It makes you wanna go back in time, to high school where nothing mattered and live in a town that breeds a good uprising, like Oakland (see: Black Panther Party. Not that I could ever compare the Black Panthers to Green Day. Here its mostly for aesthetics.) Right now Dookie is on repeat. Its enough where it needs to be kept to myself. Its living in my head phones and on the subway. I’m not ashamed but people’s associations with this band make me feel the need to hide it. Which is shameful.
Since we last ‘spoke’ there has been a new Radiohead record. Which can be seen as a disappointment. Expecting their game changing lifestyle, they give us another version of In Rainbows (which IS great.) At least it has me listening to/accepting/loving Kid A.
I’ve been to Brooklyn and fallen in love with the city, it’s sandwiches, windy streets and the plethora of bearded cyclists. I thought I saw Reece everywhere. Finished Jonathan Franzen’s The Corrections, which won the National Book Award. I’ve never read and loved books as much as I’ve loved The Corrections and Freedom. You will fly through them. Franzen remains a douche, but his fiction writing is unreal.
Then there’s this. Which just reminds me of this.
Have I mentioned that The White Stripes officially ‘broke up’? We have solo work to look forward to, which I think is really going to be a good career. Many solo careers stemmed from past band leaders and geniuses. Jack White is our genius.
Sometimes I think if I go on longer no one will read it all. At least no one I talk to regularly. Since last, I’ve also gotten rid of my hole-y pants and bought a cast iron skillet for proper cooking. This weekend sweet potato vegetarian chili and homemade corn bread. And homemade whoopie pies for Pat’s birthday. Jealous? I think so-
Currents: whiskey, The Black Keys. Also, it’s been a Green Day.
Perplexed by his new record’s popularity and in complete misunderstanding of Pitchfork’s 10.0 (highest possible) rating, I cannot help but follow the press like a word vomit obsession. I cannot control it, it just comes out. Like out onto your own moving car with everyone you know watching, into a trashcan, or all over your face. Kanye, like vomit, seems to get uncontrollably everywhere. He is an attention whore, tweet factory and all around strange man.
It was Dre who told me not to hate him just to continue my status quo. It was Shai who gave me the GOOD Fridays (and yes I listened to them and enjoyed them for a short while) who helped me consider him as more than just his douchey-ness. After receiving the album for free and listening to it two and a half times all the way through I can say that it is grand, over the top, histrionic, over-produced, arguably layered too much, features a lot (too many?) of big acts (credited and not) and well, is very good. Although I don’t know how I feel about a favorite Pitchfork’s Poptimist columnist Tom Ewing comparing My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy to John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band.
See I’ve always hated Kanye West. And the level of thought I have given this man lately, quite frankly, scares me. I’m not sure I understand his popularity. OK, he’s a good producer. But is his popularity due to Jay-Z’s friendship? (Amazing Terry Gross interview.) The whole Peter Rothbart ‘gatekeeper’ idea is swirling about in my head (thanks Morg). Do we like him because we’ve been told this record would be great? Or is it actually? Also, I do not sympathize in the loss of his mother. She died during an elective cosmetic surgery (THERE, I SAID IT.) But I figured I would share this almost obsession and these ideas with you to see what you think. I am trying to write every day and since moving to DC have totally lost my passion (if there was any, it’s now gone) for politics and have completely thrown myself back into round-the-clock music obsession. Reading about it, writing about it and fervently, discussing it like word vomit. In a nut, I promise to be around more, only if you will.
To keep it short: recently fell into a co-worker’s personal music server with (this is the exact number: 1414 gigs) a lot of music. If you want any, you know what to do. Also, rediscovering my indie white suburban roots: I’ve completely fallen in love with Pavement (perhaps because of Malkmus to Lou Reed like qualities–Riley if you haven’t yet, listen to this band), Pinkerton, and decided I don’t miss college after an anticlimactic evening at a Georgetown show of Best Coast (I know, please don’t say it- inquire within for story, or just check back in a day.) Also Jack White is now ranking as a Jeff Tweedy all-timer (essay to follow as well) and is officially confirmed that I would do dirty nasty things to him.
To keep it short: will be around more, writing more as I’ve forgotten about this outlet and promise to not let our beloved ‘cant fall to the wayside. We need people who can say what everyone else is thinking and I volunteer. Also, if you’re reading this Riley: please accept my facebook friend request. Four months is a long enough wait.
Call yourself a hipster or not, I am sure that you’ve partaken in some sort of fashion, beer, music, what-have-you. We’ve all done it. It’s hard not to when you see it everywhere. This is a good attempt at decoding some of this nonsense.
When we see hipsters everywhere we know them, and can pick our their type. There’s no need to pick them out of a crowd, for they are the crowd. I’ve had many conversations about who and where they’ve come from and what we can compare them to in our past. Because, let’s face it. That’s what we do. We look at something in our lives and take a look at history and try to explain it through something familiar to us. It’s how we function, usually.
At first you could say they are comparative to the hippie. But the hippie fought for something right? Peace…..free love….weed. They were fighting for something then, being constructive and demanding. It wasn’t something everyone else made fun of. It was envied and thought of as new. Then I thought, maybe they could be like the Beats- people who have an intellectualism going for themselves. Then I remembered that hipsters aren’t too intellectual and just wear a same brand of strange clothes like the beats did. Then this article (see above link) was presented to me, and it makes perfect sense.
“An artificial appropriation of different styles from different eras, the hipster represents the end of Western civilization – a culture lost in the superficiality of its past and unable to create any new meaning. Not only is it unsustainable, it is suicidal. While previous youth movements have challenged the dysfunction and decadence of their elders, today we have the “hipster” – a youth subculture that mirrors the doomed shallowness of mainstream society.”
When you see another Christmas sweater, or go into Urban Outfitters thinking it’s going to be a good choice (when it’s not) or when you move to Brooklyn to take photos with your fish eye and go see Best Coast, think again. What’s really going on here?
I’ve been saying this all along. The Velvet Underground IS fucking genius. And if you haven’t yet, it’s about time.
OK. I’ve been getting much more into solo Lou Reed. I recent won 100 bucks off my dad on a bet. We were talking about Lou Reed, for reasons I’m not sure why. My father has never expressed any interest let alone knowledge about the man. Which is why I won. He proceeded to promise me that Lou Reed played on a studio record with the Eagles. I’m pretty sure, if memory serves me right, that I laughed in his face. We called our phone-a-friend, my dad’s former colleague, life long friend and known-to-be genius, also my god father (not sure why I have one, also he’s the most Jewish man I will ever meet): Danny Gold. He works for the New York Times and used to edit Frank Rich. Enough said. In a nut, I was right. I am a Coney Island Baby.
Preferably tied for first with Wilco, but that remains to be seen, the Velvet Underground is IT. The beginning of punk, housing four original geniuses, the biggest asshole in music history (we love you Lou) and the greatest (chick) drummer EVER. period.
Check out All Songs Considered. As from the first link above, they have interns review classic records said interns have never heard before. (Can you even imagine never hearing your personal favorite and getting to hear it for the first time over again? It must be like magic.) As you’ll guess, it was the first, The Velvet Underground & Nico, the most OVERRATED of all VU records but still you cannot ignore it. Either way, keep up with All Songs Considered. They are no underground like Pitchfork (they’re hiring!) and they aren’t the new rave of national breaking news (ahem rollingstone.com, that shit is real, at least for now.) I’d call it a middle ground. After their ‘Best Opening Tracks’ show, they asked for listeners’ favorite closing tracks. I was too late to join to mention that my favorite is Oh! Sweet Nuthin on Loaded, but at least I’m getting it out here.
All I’m saying here is– it’s never too late to get into the Velvets. And, if you’re ready for some real emotional discourse and disturbance, Lou Reed himself. Warning, it gets strange.
Here is another reason to hate, or just contemplate, Lady Gaga. I know she’s well educated- Tisch school at NYU and all- but that doesn’t make me like her more. My sister loves her as does my brother-in-law. That makes me hate her even more because they are two of the smartest people I know. I don’t get the fad. But when I saw this article this AM on one of the greatest blogs, I figured I’d share it. I’ve never seen the telephone video. I’ve had it described to me and almost reenacted by said sister, but I have no desire to watch it.
Many artists of the past have changes their appearances just for shock value, and for stranger reasons (ahhem Michael Jackson- its almost the one year anny. of his death-weird!) but that doesn’t make her more like great artists of the past. Or does it? I mean Madonna did it. (Maybe in future decades Gaga will bring us religion crazes too?) I know Lady Gaga can make a great pop song that ya’ll enjoy while dancing in whatever club you go dancing in- but her crazy behavior should make you think a little more than usual, right? I don’t get the face hiding and the Kermit the Frog dress and I don’t get that crazy look in her eye. Maybe someone can explain it one day.
Until then, whose in??
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