A car travels with purpose down the highway and the asphalt ain't getting no drier. The sky is smeared grey all over. The destination: honeymoon cottage on the ocean. "Just married" splayed 'cross the rear window of the car. A string of cans fastened hastily from the bumper, pulsing arrhythmically behind them, playing catch-up. The couple speaks only briefly. The waves await them, lapping slowly against the beach. Mick Turner is 1/3 the Dirty Three. Mick Turner is 3/3 Marlan Rosa.
America's Funnyman, opening act for Tenacious D on this live disc. This is the blue Hamburger. Appalling jokes about rape, celebrity, celebrity rape, etc. Horrible timing. Throat cancer. I'm a definitely a fan of the way he constantly antagonizes the audience. I'm shifting uncomfortably.
Shits and giggles:
Why did God give Smashmouth three top ten singles?
Well, it was a clerical error -- he meant to give them all AIDS.
One of my beefs with the Raincoats is how tinny the recordings are. I believe Grass Widow rectifies that situation. Tighter, brighter, beefier? You betcha.
Mostly the voice:
Fried Egg, 11 of Diamonds, all the rest
All of the Malk-man's solo attempts are of some utility. His first post-Pavement platter is a goofball's affair, quirky pop gems that McCartney might manage. Real Emotional Trash sated his masturbatory guitar wankery needs. His most recent is the obligatory "Beck must produce my album in 2011" jammy. This is the middle, this one solves the riddle. Short-stuff, long-form, solo shredding, double tracked pop yumminess. Its all here and there. And all done with his clever lil twists of phrase. I'll proffer two cents.
The Yoga Olympics:
Pencil Rot, It Kills, I've Hardly Been, No More Shoes
So many ensembles with the moniker "Black ____" that they all get lost in the Icky iTunes Shuffle. Not these motherfuckers. Boom bap? Yep, I love the hard drums and this is chock full 'o nuggets. Phat/fat baselines? Its like Slip n Slide and those things are sooo banned. Hard ass rappers that I'm sure filmed real gritty black n white thugged out videos in Carhartts with cock-eyed glares and about 75 cats in a cypher outlined in chalk. Its Yourz!
Who Got the Props?, Buck Em Down, Son Get Wrec
One of the ugliest album covers for one of the worst live performers (at that time anyways). But the music, oh the music. This kept me company during freshman year in college as everyone had orgies and knife fights. I had "No Sense", a key kut from kat. Chan's DP'd by the 2/3rds of the Dirty 3. Delicate, dark, sad, at times emotionally wasted and occasionally spiritualized album. I'll forgive each and every trespass Ms. Marshall. This is immunity.
How does one type that Greek-ish connected "AE" doo-dad?
This is the Nexus. Pre- "Super AE" was nothing but skull-fuckery and childish retardation. Post-"Super AE" was some Disco Biscuits ish. It amalgamizes the best of both worlds (like that R. Kelly/Jay-z album...), not that preteen mental defects and lsd electronic jam bands are good in anyway. Just that the best the Boredoms had to offer (PopTatari/ChocolateSynthesizer/VisionCreationNewsun) in a tasty felt-tip marked pill. In jest.
Haino's cover band. I know K-to-the-H is a win or lose prop bet for many. This is the closest one will get to ROCK N ROLL Haino (other than that beast of a first Fushitsusha album). Awed by the Satisfaction cover with its vague touchstones of the original. Floored by the cover of "Why the Two of Us Here". Its bassline must be the most playful the Prince O' Darkness ever played on, and he shreds the ass outta his guitar. How I do not envy you Gibson SG.
Ten Ragas To A Disco Beat