It's all good

I'm done with work until Monday.

Band of Horses is on my iTunes. Mylo is on deck.

And the rumors of The Replacements cutting new tracks is true.

The new songs, "Message to the Boys" and "Pool & Dive" will be featured on a retrospective, which is industry-speak for "Greatest Hits Album" when the band in question didn't really have any "hits", so to speak. I suppose it beats calling it a "Best of...".

The album looks to feature material from their days on TwinTone Records, which I can only assume means that the band did not, in fact, steal the master tapes and throw them in some river in Minnesota after signing to a major label. That, my friends, is a good thing, because yours truly is tired of listening to "Within Your Reach" in that muted version that appears on most early 80s CDs.

Why not buy the remastered versions, you ask? Several reasons. One...I had all of The 'Mats' records before the remasters came out, and despite the fact that I got most of them used, I had a real problem with buying the same albums twice. I oppose the cheap marketing ploy that is remastering and remixing in an effort to squeeze extra blood from the rock that is my bank account. Shame on you, record companies. Shame.

Two...the above article inidicates that a comprehensive boxed set is forthcoming sometime next year. I may refuse to buy a remaster that I already own, but I have no problem buying a remaster if you put it in a snazzy package with other remasters and possibly some other shit which, while being reasonably cool, does nothing to justify the obscene price that will undoubtedly be attached to said collection.

Nobody ever said music snobs made sense.

(I also have no problem buying an album twice if for whatever reason, my first copy of it "mysteriously disappears", such as was the case with my copy of All For Nothing/Nothing For All, the first Replacements "retrospective" that didn't include the TwinTone stuff, but did include some cool B-sides and rarities. Ahem.)

I may post my thoughts on the new CDs tomorrow or next week. Haven't decided. I just know that for the right now, it's all good (and alright, for that matter).

Quit teasing me

Oh you magnificent bastards (of young)! Don't you do this to me. I've lived long enough to see one band that I idolize reform for at least a tour (The Pixies). Don't start jerking me off about another one if you're not going to follow through.

Remaining members of prodigal 80s rock band The Replacements may be in the studio laying down new tracks. (Thanks Pop Candy)

Whether it's true or not, we don't know.

Whether these may be tracks for a speculated box set (which I would have to buy despite owning every CD they've made, short of the impossible to find Shit, Shower and Shave), we don't know.

Whether it means that Tommy Stinson has finally realized that playing guitar for whatever abominable shit that's passing itself off as Guns N'Roses isn't really worth it, we don't know.

I have to admit, the mere idea that The 'Mats could reunite and record new songs before The Chinese Democracy ever sees the light of day makes me positively giddy. Well...maybe not giddy, but man would that be funny.

Just make it true! Just one new song would be fantastic!

And if they wanted to throw a tour in there...that's ok too.

Hey! Maybe some music...stuff.

Enough ranting about sports. God will have his vengeance on all of the Morrison haters (or A-Mo as I like to call him).

Should be another decent week around here music-wise. Mylo and Band of Horses should be arriving shortly. Mylo came out almost two years ago in the U.K., which makes me think that my British brethren are holding back the good shit to punish me for hating on all of the stuff they overhype. The Go! Team had to re-record some tracks to release their record here because the U.K. version had some "questionable" samples, and now this. Fine. Occasionally you guys get the inside track on great music.

I'll still never forgive you for thinking The Killers matter.

Band of Horses also excites me greatly. As my longtime reader(s?) remember, I kind of went apeshit over The Funeral. I don't hesitate to say that even if that's the only good song on the CD, it will have been worth the purchase.

I highly doubt that will be the case. But I have been wrong.

All that remains today is general media desiderata.

Kill me now. Kurt would have HATED shit like that.

Three words: Gnarls fucking Barkley. Cee-Lo and Dangermouse. DM's collaboration with MF Doom (aka DangerDoom) was stellar, and judging by the track GB is beaming, it'll be just as good.

Finally...a few cool mp3 sites are added to the roll. Who Needs Radio is an excellent, ecletic, multi-authored site who just seem to be doing it out of love for music. Carry on, guys.

And tmwsiy* has also been bringing the hook-up with the good stuff. Give both sites a check.

Hang the Sportswriters

I could absolutely kill the sportswriters today.

All weekend really. Those insipid douchenozzles have been endlessly ripping Gonzaga's Adam Morrison since his team lost in the Elite Eight of the NCAA Tournament. Why? Because the guy had the audacity to cry when his team blew a lead in the waning minutes of the game. Heaven forfend.

They've been posting pictures of his pained visage. They've been endlessly beating the drum about how it should affect his draft status. About half a dozen of the unoriginal hacks made some wisecrack about how Morrison has greater claim to LSU's Glen "Big Baby" Davis's nickname.

Hysterical. Really. Pat yourselves on the backs and remember how you were all cut from any and every sports team you ever tried out for.

The world needs to chill the fuck out about this. Sure, he may have started losing it with time left in the game when he could have been going for the game-tying/winning shot, but let's not forget one simple fact.

He's only 21 years old.

God forbid he be competitive. God forbid he be emotionally invested in the game. God forbid he wear his heart on his sleeve.

God forbid he act his age.

The writers can crack bitter all they want. In anywhere from the next 6 to 18 months (depending if he decides to stay in school or not), Adam Morrison will be making more money than all of them put together, be more famous than all of them put together, and he'll be fucking supermodels and groupies that put their wives to shame.

You rock on, Adam Morrison. Never change and never shave.

The World is a Strange Place

Most days, I think I have pretty firm grasp on things. I admit that there's a lot that I don't understand in this world, but I feel like very little should be able to leave me slack-jawed and stupified at what people are doing with their spare time.

And the world, how it enjoys proving me wrong! For there can be no other explanation for cutouts of Val Kilmer's head appearing all over the streets of Toronto. I recognize that celebrity worship is a sad fact of human existence in today's society and that people are going to inevitably take things to bizarre extremes, but come the fuck on! I know the man is a real genius and that I've gone on record as saying that there's no such thing as too much Val Kilmer, but at the time I didn't realize that might extend to putting cutouts of his head all over a major metropolitan area.

Who am I kidding? I'm just jealous that I didn't think of it. The Qdoba downtown in The R.O. could use a little Kilmer. We all could.

But dammit if that was only the second weirdest fucking thing I've seen today. Because Stereogum went and produced Nude Britney Spears Giving Birth on a Bearskin Rug (maybe work-safe, but pretty fucked up nonetheless). Somebody actually sculpted a life-sized, naked and pregnant Britney that is apparently on display here (ditto the last parenthetical).

In doing so, they forced my hand and ended my moratorium on Britney-related anything. Expect updates on where you can get K-Fed's new "album" in the near future, as well as pictures of him doing things that clearly indicate that Britney is too good for him. Wait...

Stereogum also put up some pretty damned good mp3s by a band called Candy Bars. I can't figure out if it's "Candy Bars" or "The Candy Bars", but I suddenly find myself not caring that much and moving on with my life. The songs are worth a listen, and that's all the point I'm trying to make. And hopefully it will wipe the taste of the whole naked pregnant Britney thing out of your mouths.

The bridges, they are a-burning

Anyone watch South Park last night?

Wow. Just wow. I guess Trey and Matt either have more insight on the subject than Roger Friedman, they don't know what he's been reporting, or they're just ignoring him. Because last night they sent Isaac 'Chef' Hayes a missive that clearly states that under no circumstances can he come back if he has a shred of dignity or any faith at all in his beliefs.

As goofy and out there as average Joe Blogger may find Scientology, it's what the man believes in. And last night's episode pretty much skewered his religion to such an extent that I can't forsee any possible way that any self-respecting Scientologist could work with the creators again after seeing it.

It really makes me hope that the reports of Hayes' stroke are either false or exaggerated, and that it truly was his wish to quit the show. If what Roger Friedman reported is true, then Hayes neither wanted to leave the show nor could he afford to at this point in time. So if that was the case, this is an unfortunate situation that absolutely nobody comes out of as a winner.

Then again, this whole situation might be a joke. As a fan who sat through the April Fools'/Cartman's Father/Terrence and Phillip Special back in the day, I wouldn't put it past the sick bastards.

Highly unlikely? Yes.

Totally outside the realm of possibility? Eh?

Remo Williams and A Generation's Culture

Remember HBO?

I'm not talking about the dozen or so versions that come with every basic digital package today.

I'm talking about the HBO of the 80s.

No Sopranos.

No Deadwood.

Just hours upon hours of the same, bad 80s movies, with occasional "Making Of" specials interspersed among them.

I'm talking Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome. I'm talking The Legend of Billie Jean. I'm talking Remo Williams: The Adventure Begins.

And they ran these movies over and over...and over.

If your dad was anything like my dad, you also watched them over and over...and over. Back when cable television was really gaining a foothold here in the heartland, men across the country like my father sought to justify the $10 a month they were shelling out for the privelege of having such fine cinema beamed to their homes, and they did so by watching it and forcing their families to watch it with them. Today, the hippies would call this child abuse.

I think watching movies like Remo Williams may have permanently warped my fragile little mind. I love a good bad move more than the average lad, but this movie is just painful. And the pain seems to be embedded within the inner core of my being. Even now, 20 years later, HBO or some other excuse for a cable channel still rerun it. It's like they bought the lifetime rights to the movie, although I can't imagine that costing that much. I envision some hobo/studio-exec handing off the film for a three-piece and a biscuit, then running away cackling with glee because he's free of it.

I become paralyzed in terror when it's on because I know the movie, scene for scene, line for line. What the fuck? Why do I know the idiotic insults that Chiun is going to make? Why doesn't Wilford Brimley cause me to change the channel like every other thing he's ever done? Why didn't they call it "Remo Williams: The Adventure Begins (and Ends)"? Wait...apparently IMDB says that the adventure did continue, with the role of Chiun being played by the same guy who played Cornelius in Planet of the Apes...wait...WHY DO I KNOW THIS?!?

It's a conspiracy, damn it!

The Shield has its season finale this evening. I'm stoked. It will, however, mean that this is the last Tuesday that I have reason to watch television for the forseeable future.

On the other hand, it also means I hopefully never have to see another preview for Black/White and hear that atrocious Ice Cube theme-song again.

This season didn't start this way. Oh no. For a while, Tuesday nights were the peak of my television viewing week. I quickly became enamoured with Bones on Fox and Supernatural on The WB. I've been into Nip/Tuck and The Shield for a while now, and the two latest seasons have been airing at 10 on FX since the fall. Three hours on my Tuesdays were effectively spoken for.

But the networks couldn't let me have my Tuesdays. First, they had to go and move Bones to Wednesday nights against Lost. Having recently jumped aboard the bandwagon for everyone's favorite castaways, I found myself most perturbed, or at the very least, in need of a Tivo.

Then, Supernatural was moved to Thursdays against my new faves, My Name Is Earl and The Office. Fuck!

While Bones was moved back to 8pm (making Wednesday my new TV day for the time being), the geniuses who make the schedules have pissed me off. I cannot, nay, will not fill my Tuesdays with girly shit like Gilmore Girls or insipid, brain-draining inanity like American Idol. I would rather drill into my kneecaps with a carbide bit than hear Simon Cowell's opinion on...well...anything.

But my Tuesdays are now open. Goddammit, this side of town needs a Buffalo Wild Wings.

Monday bits, bytes and linkage

There's been a palpable buzz surrounding Isaac 'Chef' Hayes departure from South Park. It was supposedly due to some umbrage he took in response to the "Trapped In The Closet" episode lampooning Scientology, the preferred religion of him and other celebrities that prefer not to have anything resembling Judeo-Christian ethics dictating their actions and making them feel guilty about their ultimately decadent lifestyles (take that as you will).

Trey Parker and Matt Stone, the creators of South Park, have gone on record as saying that they fully believe his departure was related to that episode. They also may believe that Tom Cruise manipulated Comedy Central to pull a repeat of the supposedly offensive episode. They responded with their traditional genius (From The Daily Variety):

So, Scientology, you may have won THIS battle, but the million-year war for earth has just begun! Temporarily anozinizing our episode will NOT stop us from keeping Thetans forever trapped in your pitiful man-bodies. Curses and drat! You have obstructed us for now, but your feeble bid to save humanity will fail! Hail Xenu!!

While hysterical, it turns out that they, along with the rest of the world may be misinformed. Roger Friedman at Fox News reports that Hayes had a stroke a few weeks ago. Ergo, he wouldn't have been able to quit, and Friedman posits that someone did it for him. Friedman also indicates that discussions with Hayes led him to believe that Hayes didn't find the episode all that offensive, and doubts that he would have quit over it.

The plot thickens.

Hopefully this gets straightened out and best wishes to Isaac Hayes if he is, indeed, in less than stellar health.

I neglected this newsbyte last week, but it seems that The Hold Steady have signed to Vagrant records, home to one of my personal faves Paul Westerberg, one of my former faves in Saves The Day, along with a bunch of other bands comprised of sensitive guys that had trouble finding dates in high school and overcompensated with shitty poetry put to whiny music.

I concur with Pitchfork in that the thought of "Your Little Hoodrat Friend" hoodies at Hot Topic terrifies the high holy fuck out of me.

Lazy Sundays

Don't you just love those weekends that just come back to you in flashes? Through tedious memory recovery or hearsay, apparently I've drunkenly done the following this weekend:

1. Mooned my friend's apartment complex
2. Karaoke'd several songs with the band at a party (Shut Up Robert rocks!), forgot most of the lyrics, and attempted to compensate by screaming
3. Spiked my cellphone when I couldn't get it into my pocket
4. During a game of Cranium, in an effort to draw a picture that would make my team guess "soccer mom", I drew a stick figure giving birth
5. Demanded my friend hit me in the face

Great weekend, although I'm completely out of food and far too burned out to do anything about it. I've spent the day eating leftover Chinese food and hot dog buns.

During this little mini-bender, I have been neglectful of my e-mail (it just leads to me checking my work e-mail -- bad shit) so I missed the mp3s that were e-mailed to me. I was advised to check out Brandi Carlisle (www.brandicarlile.com), who'll be playing at the Royal Oak Music Theatre on March 22nd.

That's right. The place that ran out of beer.

For the record, I will totally pimp mp3s so long as I am given permission and, of course, if they're good.

Fall Apart Again (mp3)

What More Can I Say (mp3)

Brandi has got that singer/songwriter thing going a la Rachel Yamagata. I dig both songs. Worth a check if you're into that type of music.

Time to see if I've got any more loose bread products to eat. What a day.

Mere Hours of Sobriety

I've got about an hour and a half until the games start today.

They'll have to be impressive to top yesterday's games. Damn.

It's also St. Patrick's Day.

It's going to be years before such a cool intersection of great sporting event, alcohol-fueled holiday and my bi-weekly Friday off happens again. The next time the stars align like this, I'll probably be too old to enjoy it. By then, I'll most likely spend the day off spackling drywall or putting a new vanity in a bathroom.

Which makes this year all the more important.

I'm doing everything in my power to avoid going to a bar. I don't need to spend that money. Plus, I no longer have a local, sit-down, pub-style roost where the bouncer shakes my hand instead of carding me and people let me to the front of the juke line. And I'm not driving over to Mt. Clemens to relive old memories.

I'm not going back there, man.

So after I scrub my way through shower, breakfast, and maybe a quick bit of exercise, I'l have to squeeze in a beer run before cranking up the stereo and getting into the games. I'll be providing the soundtrack today.

Time to move.

Happy Alt-Tab Day!

First day of the NCAA Tournament. I have maintained my proud, going-on-two-year tradition of blowing out of work early and watching these fine opening rounds with a beer in hand and a song in my heart.

That song, of course, is Fuck The Police. Couldn't tell ya why.

So to all my brothers, sisters, lovers and cyberstalkers still entombed in their cubicle mausoleums, I say "You know you ain't doing shit this afternoon. Close the faux-spreadsheet you have covering ESPN dot com and go home! Go to B-Dubs! Get out and celebrate! Then call in sick tomorrow because it's f-ing St. Patty's Day!"

I have a date with a cold LaBatt's.

Out.

A Good Week for Mail...

Yesterday my order from Amp Camp arrived. Today my order from the corporate beast known as Amazon (they don't need a link; they're f-ing AMAZON!!!) was sitting on my porch waiting to greet me like a loyal dog or a retarded cat.

I shall not want for new media upon which to gorge myself this week.

Double Easy: The U.S. Singles by The Happy Mondays is now satisfying the craving for their music that I've had since I caught 24 Hour Party People via the 'Flix last month. My fascination with musical/cultural watermark periods is endless and this movie just nailed me from all angles. The Mondays' music that was used in the film has been on constant rotation in my head since I heard it. Being that I was already into The Stone Roses, I'm told that this isn't that unusual.

So now I'm checking them out by way of a hits collection. Lame? Yes, but I lack the disposable income to go after their catalogue at this point in time. I'll get there.

Providing the necessary additional cost to make this particular shipment free was Can't Stop Won't Stop: A History of the Hip-Hop Generation by Jeff Chang. While I don't listen to a lot of hip hop (especially mainstream contemporary hip hop), this is a story that's interested me since VH1 ran a week-long special in a similar vein a few years ago in between I Love the 80s marathons. So I'll be the suburban white guy at Starbucks this weekend tuning up on his hip hop history. And probably loving the hell out of it.

But it gets better. As I took the book out of the box, I noticed two things:

1. It's hardcover -- hadn't expected that for my money. I probably need to read descriptions of the things I order a little better. Especially after ordered that used CD without a case that one time. Doh!

2. The little sticker on the cover -- you know...the one that says Autographed Copy? Are you shitting me? This most definitely was NOT in the description, and doubtfully reflected in the price. Yet there on the inside is what I can only assume to be Jeff Chang's autograph. Score!

Yet now, I'm kind of afraid to read it. Unless further research indicates that he signed a shit-ton of these and allows Amazon to randomly distribute them (or are they all autographed?), this may be worth more than the $18 I spent for it. Someday, anyways.

I'll get over it, I'm sure. I'm reading it, value be damned!

Tapes 'N Tapes: The Loon

One word: underwhelmed.

The hype can't always be right. Apparently the blogs were on boards and Pitchfork tossed it a highly favorable review, but I can't say anything other than "it's good, not great" about this record. Perhaps said hype overinflated my expectations.

Perhaps it was the comparisons to Pavement and The Pixies. While the impulsive, excitable part of my brain saw that and said "There's no WAY that can be anything but great!", the pensive, analytical part of my brain was quietly whispering "There's no WAY any band can pull off that dynamic!" Stupid pensive brain.

The Loon definitely echoes Pavement. The songs are low-fi and have the same sound. But any blogger/reviewer/listener who says this band sounds like The Pixies has obviously listened to a lot more music from Black Francis et al. than I have.

And that's not bloody likely.

So what we have in Tapes 'N Tapes is a good record that will fit very nicely next to Crooked Rain Crooked Rain on your shelves and has a couple of very good songs near the end of the album (must have been the ones sent to blogs). But it isn't this year's Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, which is in the car now for verification purposes.

Perhaps the most telling indictment of this record is the fact that I listened to it four times yesterday and can't recall a single song into my head right now, no matter how hard I try.

The Loon does grow on you after the initial listen, and I'm sure it will continue to do so. It's certainly not a lemon and I'm not sorry I bought it. It just didn't make me lose my shit the way other blind buys of its pedigree have in the past, and I probably won't break it out at the end of this year for a re-listen when I compile my personal "Best of 2006", which I will then go on to never publish.

Recipes for Crow and Where to Get CDs

So yeah. Saw the Femmes on Saturday. They pretty much rocked.

Blister in the Sun was played in the middle of the show and I didn't skate, despite the fact that the bar had somehow run out of beer. Watching the sad little barback hustle cases of Molson back and forth almost made the insane wait and dealing with the inept barstaff worth it. Almost.

Watching the Femmes close with Add It Up and curtain call with Kiss Off (which I totally forgot they sang), however, did make it worth it. I spent the rest of my weekend trying to find good side dishes for the crow I must admittedly eat after Saturday's little performance. Tip of the hat.

Tapes 'N Tapes finally showed up in the mail today. More on that later, but let me just say how totally cool ordering from Amp Camp was.

I really only placed the order without researching the band because Amp Camp had the album for under ten bucks and Amazon didn't have it yet. At their site, I found reviews of their stuff, recommended audience for each album, and the insanely cool "Degree of Difficulty" scale, which breaks down how instantly listenable the record is i.e. how many times would one have to listen to this record before one "gets it". Sweet.

Today, I get the CD in the mail. Included was a discount coupon for my next order, with a handwritten message from whoever packaged it. Her name was Svetlana (hot~!) and she was inquiring whether or not my current hometown of Royal Oak was in any way related to a bar of the same name in NY.

Svetlana - I wish, honey. I wish. Probably a negative on that one.

That kind of personalized, DIY touch was truely outstanding. I will now actively try to order from them first, and your eyes may be drawn to the new link on the side panel or sidebar or whatever the fuck you call that thing over there. Give 'em a check and I'll be back to discuss the actual record I ordered from them later (spot review: not as cool as the website).

Violent Femmes Live! Wait a minute...

Saturday night -- The Violent Femmes are playing the Royal Oak Music Theatre. I'll be there. I couldn't be more...well...I'll be there.

I'm not entirely sure what my line of thinking was behind agreeing to go to this show. Any chance I can just show up at 11:00pm-ish to hear Blister in the Sun, which I'd say has about a 95% chance of being the closer/curtain call? Frankly, if they play it in the middle of their show or attempt to use it as the creamy filling hidden inside "new material", you'll find me at Sangria fairly early on.

Look. I have nothing against The Femmes (other than the fact that Blister was played at every high school dance, college party and Canadian bar I went to until I turned 21*, but that's not their fault), but when I think of retro bands from the great 80s that I need to catch live, they ain't makin' the top 10. Sorry.

But it'll be fun, and I can spend the evening getting fantastically drunk if need be. Live shows are always good like that.

Staying on live shows, I purchased tickets to the May 11th Sigur Ros show this morning. Yours truly will be in the front of the mezz at the State Theatre in Detroit watching the pinnacle of Icelandic post-rock spin the sound ethereal. Now THAT excites me.

*No inference should be taken from my clumsy sentence structure that I attended high school dances until I was 21. I'm not THAT guy.

New layout

I was really starting to hate the old layout, and somehow I had irreversibly warped the code in my feeble attempts to manually edit the HTML in hopes of making it better. The date of the current posts wasn't showing up and photos were making the site act weird on my system.

So I changed it to another stock Blogger template. I'd love to establish some individuality and make the site look unique, but my HTML skills are right down there with my bo staff skills. So this suave looking template will be the ostensible face of 16m for the forseeable future. Booyah.

Hype

Are you in a band? Are you trying to drum up "buzz" for your debut record? Are you having trouble getting noticed? Have no fear! Just follow this tried and true method for getting people talking about you before you've actually done anything!

1. Go to England
Seriously. Whereas fans in the U.S. aren't easily excitable about new things, our cousins across the pond are constantly begging for it. If you've got a hip new sound or are recycling an old sound in a grating, poppy manner (I'm looking at you, Killers), the Brits will go apeshit for you and we'll be able to hear the buzz from here.

2. Describe your sound as "neo-new wave"
All this means is that you're aping a better band from 25-30 years ago. But this kind of music is the "thing" right now and drooling lemmings like myself will fall all over ourselves to find you, check you out and tell our friends about you. Think Interpol (Joy Division), stellastarr* (The Cure) or The Bravery (Pip farting on a snare drum).

3. If you can't be "neo-new wave", be "post-rock"
Another wicked indie buzz term. This means (as far as I can tell) that you're abandoning traditional songcraft to explore more experimental sounds and structures. If people don't get what the hell you're doing (translation: you have no idea how to play your instruments and your music sounds like someone is murdering a yak inside a reverberating sound chamber), you still have a 50/50 chance of a critic saying that your sound is "challenging" rather than risk looking dumb by admitting they don't get it.

4. Release an EP of your best songs before releasing your full-length
This will protect you by putting your five strongest songs on display while covering the fact that you only have five strong songs. If you don't have five strong songs, round out the EP with live versions of your good songs, covers of better bands than you, or a "remix" of your good stuff (guh!).

5. Send an mp3 of your best song to a blog
When the British press is buzzing about your EP, this will give an itty-bitty taste to the U.S. market. While we know that CME overreacts pretty much every time a new band comes out, we'll still check out said band becuase occasionally they can almost live up to the buzz. And making us drool by combining overseas buzz and one, good song will get us humming.

6. If this isn't your first album, pay someone to describe this new album as "your Kid A"
Especially if drugs have driven you to eschew guitars for kazoos.

7. Pray
If you don't live up to the buzz you create, you'll get crucified when you get here.

I still haven't picked up that Arctic Monkeys CD. But I probably will.

Seasons Change...

...and eventually, so does the CD in my car radio. The Hold Steady managed to embed itself into my consciousness and CD player for upwards of 6 weeks without a break, and I think that might be a personal record. The only caveat is the week I spent in Maui, where I was obviously without car or the accompanying radio. The only CDs that I remember listening to for such an extended period of time without switching are Antics by Interpol and Apologies to the Queen Mary by Wolf Parade.

So what could displace Separation Sunday? At first, in the interest of changing things up, I just tossed Harmonies for the Haunted by stellastarr* in there. "Sweet Troubled Soul" is a pretty f-ing good song, but it doesn't have anywhere near the staying power required to have me singing/muttering "Holly was a hoodrat" to myself at random times during my day. So despite the fact that I can't load the album on to my iPod and increase my exposure to it (thank you very much DMRC!), it didn't last.

The Go! Team is now finally getting it's fair shake. I bought Thunder, Lightening, Strike about a week before The Hold Steady showed up, and never gave it the attention it deserved. It's the perfect music for the right now. Winter is melting away, the sun is coming out and the lively, danced-up instrumentals are far more apt to the anticipation of coming spring than the the sprawling crunch of Separation Sunday, which was perfect for the grey, cold winter (The Hold Steady is from Minnesota...it makes sense).

How long will this new album be stuck in my head and my car? Depends...The Loon by Tapes 'N Tapes should get here eventually, as well as a hits collection by The Happy Mondays. Both these scrappy newcomers have potential, but who knows.

As long as I don't have to listen to the shit streaming out of the local Chum Group radio stations, it's all good. What kind of idiots do they have working there to pick those playlists?

People's Guide To Pitchfork and Fabrication

I have a problem.

They say the key to solving a problem is admitting you have one, and I have one.

I rely on Pitchfork way too much for my music opinion.

For example, this review just had to name drop bands like Pavement and The Pixies and I ordered the damned CD right away, without hearing a song off of it. It hasn't arrived yet so I can't say how my consumer weakness turned out, but it doesn't exactly portray me as a paragon of fiscal responsibility.

Usually it's not that bad. Between blogs, Pandora and iTunes I can usually check out a band before I take the plunge. But I have a system for using Pitchfork as well.

When one of the reviews looks intriguing, you immediately do a name search on the reviewer. They have a ton. While the website's hipster repuatation certainly consigns a very specific stereotype to the music these writers listen to, their tastes are really quite eclectic. Just find and examine each reviewers end of year lists.

The search will bring up a list of every album that writer has reviewed. You check the list, find some faves and see what that writer thought of them. There is no substitute for common taste, so you know that if you like indie-pop rock music and that reviewer has a boner for bleeding ear noise punk, you probably don't share the same musical tastes. If a bunch of your favorite records are on the list with 9.0s next to them, buy away.

Or if Nick Sylvester was the reviewer, I don't know what the fuck to tell you. The guy's been suspended for fabricating a story in the Village Voice. What's with all these writers as of late making shit up in their stories? The real world is sick enough without having to resort to fiction to sell newspapers.

I hope Nick turns out to be innocent, although I'll never forgive him for giving such a decent-to-high mark to the most recent Audioslave record. I loved the first one but man...Out of Exile sucked balls.

Twilight is falling

May 16th. New Twilight Singers record. This is going to be a good year. Greg Dulli has yet to let me down. Musically, anyways. (picture from CMJ)

Madonna is going to perform at Coachella. Uh? Remember when people were outraged that Tool was going to be there? But this is okay. Right.

Madge...sit down. I'm here to rap with ya. Stop trying to matter. I don't care how many poplets you share faux-lesbian kisses with on MTV. You're still old and irrelevant. It's all behind you and you can't hide it with blatant samples, audacious pageantry and hip techno producers. Get your Kabbalah-spouting, Guy Ritchie-emasculating (remember when he used to make movies?) ass to Vegas and start singing "Lucky Star" next to Celine Dion and Cher. I'll come see you after I hit the buffet.