We’re just going to have to get over it. Just like Shadow will never make another Endtroducing, RJD2’s never going to make another Deadringer. I know, I know. We were all sorta’ hoping that The Third Hand was just a Metal Machine-type aberration, but judging from the vibe I got in an interview I did with RJ last week, it’s safe to say that he’ s dead-serious about his move away from hip-hop based sample-heavy production towards the Starbucks scented world of Postal Service-esque electro-guitar pop.
And I’m okay with this. Really I am. Granted, as I’ve already articulated,The Third Hand isn’t very good. But it’s not as bad as others have made it out to be and if nothing else, it’s an earnest and impressive attempt at artistic expansion, one that in and of itself is worth applauding. Truth is RJ could’ve re-made Deadringer for the rest of his career and no one would’ve said a word as he collected check after check. licensing his music in car commercials worldwide. Because nothing makes me want a Jaguar more than hearing “Ghostwriter” on loop. But as RJ’s album articulated and as he repeated on the phone to me: “I have no interest in ever repeating himself.”
So when he rolled through LA for the first time since the wildly over-blown announcement that he was ditching hip-hop, I was curious to see how this whole RJD2 rock-star thing would play out, particularly since the album was recorded in a series of overdubs, necessitating RJ to not only have to adjust to performing sans turntable for the first time in his career, but to also have to learn to play the guitar and sing simultaneously. And while the results may have stopped well short of transcendent, I couldn’t help but be impressed by RJ’s passion and energy on-stage, as he skittered around, guitar slung over his diminutive frame, with a bushy beard and green Fidel Castro fatigues that made him strongly resemble Woody Allen’s erstwhile Cuban dictator in Bananas.
Woody Allen: Also Oddly Proficient on the 1’s and 2’s
Of course, it was strange watching RJD2 rock out on electric guitar, backed by a keyboardist, a drummer, and a bassist. But you couldn’t help but get a little excited for the dude, finally getting the chance for the first time in his career to step center stage, flex his guitar chops and indulge his inner rock star. Three albums into his career (four if you count his first mixtape/album Your Face or Your Kneecaps), RJ’s set covered everything from Deadringer up through The Third Hand. And while he still remains very much a work in progress, he displayed enough skill to quell doubts that he won’t continue to improve as he grows more comfortable in his new sonic trappings.
As for RJ’s oft-maligned voice, it remains shaky and thin, struggling at times to fill the mid-sized Henry Fonda. Yet his singing clearly improved as the night progressed and as for his newfound love of the guitar, it seemed a surprisingly good fit as backed by razor-sharp session men, RJ rendered stiff, clunky album tracks into funky and loose-limbed numbers. Still, the set’s high point came when RJD2 slipped behind the turntables, once again in his comfort zone, manning four turntables simultaneously, a blur of perpetual motion that resembled the scene in Bananas where Woody Allen cross-examines himself.
Backed by grainy black and white video clips playing on a giant video screen, RJ spun old favorites like “The Horror,” “Smoke and Mirrors” and “Ghostwriter” sparking hysteria in the capacity crowd and causing everyone to once again remember the raw emotional resonance displayed on his debut. While nothing from his latest record approaches the brilliance of his earlier work, RJ’s live show demonstrated a compelling argument for his continued relevance and an interesting glimpse at his artistic evolution. So maybe we’ll never get another Deadringer. But I wouldn’t be surprised if RJ continues to get better and once again hit similarly great heights (No Postal Service). And if not, he’s at the very least a shoo-in to replace Castro.
The ’80s seem almost archaic in the instant-orgasm Internet age, where everyone has a Netflix account to watch Bulgarian independent DVDs and iPods with enough horse-power to feed a Nepalese family of four for four years. But back in those black and white and fluorescent days when VHS rental shops and frozen yogurt were all the rage, I was obsessed with the Back to the Future series, obsessed to the point where every time I headed to Movies N’ More, they were the only films my grammar-school self wanted to rent.
Twenty-plus years later, that’s how I felt about Dungen’s last record, 2004’s brilliant Ta Det Lungt. It was the sort of record I always wanted to listen to, renovating ’60s acid rock for the millennium, a refreshing anachronism at a time when “indie” was torn asunder by the burning question of whether it was better to emulate Wire or Joy Division. With critics wracking their brains for synonyms for “angular,” 24-year-old Swede Gustav Estjes walked in the door. He was the spitting image of Robert Plant, weaned on a steady diet of Pink Floyd and Madvillain, a multi-instrumentalist capable of playing every instrument on wax, from fairytale flute solos to boom-bap drums, from hammer of Thor electric guitar riffs to gentle Laurel Canyon tambourines. Or to put it in more cinematic terms, Estjes was his own Michael J. Fox, capable of playing Marty McFly, Marty McFly Jr., and Marlene McFly, all at the same time.
Three years later, Estjes, has returned with another masterpiece, Tio Bitar, Swedish for “Ten Pieces.” Still singing in Swedish, Estjes’s lyrics are unintelligible to everyone but your average Peter, Bjorn, and Jens. But just as you don’t want to analyze Doc Brown’s unsavory readiness to deal with Libyan terrorists for a few rods of plutonium, you don’t want to listen to Dungen for the lyrics. You listen to be transported to a place distinctly out of your time. Like Marty McFly forced to grapple with the disturbing prospect of sitting in a parking car with his soused and horny teenaged mother, Estjes’s throwback sound seems distinctly out of stride with his own era, befitting of a man who was recently described by his touring bandmate Reine Fiske as “having no plans to tour,” as he’s currently “in the woods, writing and recording some more.”
But Can They Play “Power of Love?”
On the Subliminal Sounds webpage, Estjes readily admits that his entire leitmotif descends from a memory of being eight years old and hearing his mother’s copy of Are You Experienced? for the first time. Using Hendrix as a launching band, Estjes, aided by Swede postman by day/guitar god by night Fiske, spits back an impossibly melodic synthesis of the ’60s and early ’70s, seamlessly blending orange sunshine-laced Hendrix solos, snaking Revolver sitars, Atom Heart Mother-esque symphony, with some weird willowy flutes a la Aqualung.
Dungen makes music that feels recently submerged from a dusty analog reel discovered in a rural Swedish basement, glowing with a red-eyed and drugged haze, spray-blasted with brightness. It isn’t the sort of artistic statement that promises to change anyone’s life, but it’s no less a great work of escapist art, the sort of essential record I’d pick for any hypothetical list of desert island necessities. It’s an album that you can loop endlessly, letting you sink into a brighter world, one far removed from the Biff Tannens of everyday existence. With summer drawing near, it’s the perfect thing to play loudly, with a pair of good strong headphones. Let it split your skull and take you to a different time. DeLorean not included.
When I woke up up this morning, I was struck by the horrible realization that this is the first morning of the rest of my life without the King of Queens. Sure, I knew the day would eventually come, but I guess in the back of my mind I never believed that the network suits would actually go through with it. And yet, today I woke up and lo and behold, the jelly doughnuts weren’t as sweet, the sun wasn’t as as bright, the mail wasn’t delivered as promptly.
They say that bad things come in threes and as if last night’s disaster wasn’t harsh enough, this morning I read an article that hinted that According to Jim and The George Lopez Show might get the ax too. Et tu, ABC? Et Tu? Where in God’s name will I be able to go to tune into the lovable follies of an overweight man and his encounters with his very hot sitcom wife and their eccentric but kind-hearted neighbors and children. Thanks, network executives, for killing all my role models.
Every so often, a figure emerges that claims to be the spokesman for a generation. Indeed, The King of Queens provided a thirty minute safe haven each week, for a generation of heavy-set males to dream of snagging the chick that played Stacey Carosi on Saved by the Bell despite our clogged arteries, four chins, and low-paying bureaucratic jobs. And hell, after being forced to watch Roseanne all through the 90s, it felt good to dream big (though not literally).
Farewell Sweet King , You Shall Never Be Forgotten Today a new world rears its ugly head and life seems to have no direction. 205 episodes, nine years, and one Emmy nomination later, it’s been a wild ride. I remember those early days like it was yesterday, those periods when I foolishly that I might get tired of watching Honeymooners episodes poorly updated for the present. Yet I’ll be damned if bowling jokes never get old. The critics can have their Arrested Developments or their Freeks and Geeks, I’ll take a bored housewife calling her husband fat every single time.
The King might be Dead, but believe me, I’ll be looking elsewhere for a new hero, for a new role model, one with a similarly unrestrained waistline and a knack for making killer fart jokes. Hell, I already have some ideas in mind. As Hendrix once said, somewhere a king has no wife, but somewhere else, the wind cries I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry.
After a weekend fact-finding mission in the dirty South, Ian Cohen has returned. Though he was unable to discover whether or not it really is going down in the trap, he was able to discover that Young Joc really really sucks.
Guitar Center isn’t a place I go very often, but when I do, I expect certain things out of them.For example, you better have Dream Theater playing on the TV.The Northridge store was happy to oblige…goddamn, how many strings does that guy have on his bass?And how does John Petrucci make it look so goddamn easy when I spent hours in 8th grade just trying to nail maybe one movement from “Erotomania”?And I certainly hope for the lead singer’s sake that the video was taped no later than 1994.
Another thing I expect is that the kid who’s wailing on those mindblowing fretboard-tapping riffs is Korean.And he’s twelve.But mostly, I expect to spend at least twenty minutes fucking around with the effects pedal chain and completely ignore what this must do to the people who work there.Seriously- when you’re up in Guitar Center, it doesn’t matter if you’re running the flanger, fuzz pedal, digital delay and auto wah all at once- you become a 16-year old kid who thinks it sounds fucking awesome.As Josh Love notes in his very accurate and very well-written review of Grinderman’s self-titled, Nick Cave and his boys tap into this feeling, which works out great because it’s almost exclusively written with the sort of frustrated horniness that seems endemic to 16-year olds.I mean, there’s a real awesome song called “No Pussy Blues” on this…is it any wonder it’s gone over well with critics?
But this is a pretty damn solid record, which I completely didn’t expect.You know how most of your friends have probably heard every Led Zeppelin album and they can differentiate between their eras?I mean, that’s what high school was all about, right?Well, in some alternate high school, this was the case with Nick Cave.There are some Stylus staffers who know everything about this dude, which makes them unlike anyone I’ve ever met in real life.I just never listened to Nick Cave, and with a discography that thick, I’d better have a good reason to even begin.A forty minute record of impossibly skuzzy guitar riffs and mostly hilarious lyrics (see “Go Tell The Women”) is a good way to start.Yeah, towards the end it starts to get a little alt-rock and the impact kinda wanes, and my god, that’s an awful album cover.But I remember something Chuck Klosterman wrote once: he preferred interviewing guys like Barry Manilow and whatnot over young rock artists, because the older heads don’t give a fuck.Granted, Nick Cave seems like a dude who cares about image, but this couldn’t have possibly worked with someone under 40.
This week is Rock Honors Week here in LosAngeles, with a bevy (yes, a bevy) of events scheduled, including most interestingly, Rock N’ Roll bingo with Wayne Kramer of the MC5. No word on whether or not he will be kicking out any jams, senior citizen style. The hullabaloo is essentially one big lead-up to the Rock Honors TV Special which airs on VH1 this Thursday at 9 pm. and promises to be vaguely interesting. This year VH1 is honoring Genesis, Heart, Ozzy Osbourne and ZZ Top. Not bad.
In honor of the event, I’m giving away a Rock N’ Roll Honors prize-pack that includes a set of Rock Honors Shot Glasses, a Rock Honors T-Shirt, and some guitar picks. I assume that some of you guys out there like alcohol, clothes and guitars. So if you do and you’re interested in winning the contest. the first person to post the name of the song that ZZ Top played in Back to the Future III, wins. And please leave your e-mail address so I can contact you. That is all. Good day.
As promised in yesterday’s post, expect analysis in the next few days of what rappers came up big in the Internet straw poll and who got what Erick Sermon would charitably describe as “the bozack.” In the first installment, I present the 10 Greatest Rappers to not have an album make the Top 25 List and my theories why they didn’t make the cut. Also be sure to check Straight Bangin’ for his own take on the data.
10. Eminem (Highest Ranking Album: #59 Marshall Mathers LP)
“Hi My Name is….
What? my Name is….
Slim Dated.”
9. 2Pac (Highest Ranking Album-#57 All Eyez on Me)Reason Why 2Pac Didn’t Make the Cut: Bloggers felt like ‘Pac’s “thug life” black doo-rag didn’t go properly with his brown leather S&M vest.
Why Kool G Rap Didn’t Make Cut: Anti-fur sentiment started by Brooklyn Vegan penetrates into the hip-hop blog community. G Rap refuses to renounce penchant for the skin of dead animals, suffers the painful consequences.
6. MF Doom (Highest Ranking Album #43 Madvillain) Why MF Doom Didn’t Make the Cut: Metal face nickname brings back painful Junior High memories for blogger community.
5. Big Daddy Kane (Highest Ranking Album: #35- “Long Live the Kane”) Why BDK Didn’t Make the Cut: No one gives Big Daddy Kane the memo that girls don’t actually read Playgirl. Nude appearance makes notorious ladies man and Madonna paramour Kane, the first rapper to be penalized for having too much street cred.
4. Big Punisher (Highest Ranking Album: #49-Capital Punishment) Why Pun Didn’t Make the Cut: While playing their copy of Capital Punishment, several bloggers attempt to do research in an effort to narrow down their list. Sadly, they stumble across the above picture, which just so happens to coincide with a listening of “I’m not a Playa.” Forced to confront the prospect of the 900-lb. Big Pun “not being a player [but] just fucking a lot,” coupled with the picture of him holding a condom with a wagging tongue, causes seizures. After intensive bouts of vomiting and drooling, they never complete their ballots.
Download:
MP3: Redman ft, Method Man-”Blow Treez”
2. Slick Rick (Highest Ranking Album: #28-”The Great Adventures of Slick Rick”) Why Rick didn’t make the cut: Sensing impending backlash against the surely terrible, Pirates of the Caribbean III, prescient bloggers decide to boycott any and all people with eye patches.
1. Pharoahe Monch (Highest Ranking Album: #27- Stress: The Extinction Level Agenda) Why Pharoahe Monch Didn’t Make the Cut: Scarred by too many years of Hebrew School and Passover Sedars, the highly influential Jewish hip hop blogging community refuses to acknowledge any Pharoahe. In retaliation, Pharoahe threatens to kill their first born hard drives.
Among the more popular business ideas of recent times has been James Surowiecki’s Wisdom of Crowds ( which also comes in book form). The one-line description is that so long as information is shared across a broad spectrum of people, large groups make better decisions than more isolated elites. Faith in wise crowds is the idea that drives Digg, Wikipedia, and all kinds of internet fads, from lasting innovation to indulgent whimsy. In some ways, Surowiecki’s idea is the perfect meta-philosophy for our contemporary era, a time that has seen best-seller lists dominated by mass-appeal scholarship that has fused business strategy with behavioral research and easily understood examples. What is the popularity of common-sense literature such as Freakonomics but an example of crowd wisdom? Rather than simply accepting information from monolithic sources, people are increasingly interested in a democracy of information and new mechanics for learning, all so that a greater “truth” can be known.
These innovative ideas fuel business and are, themselves, a business. It’s why Malcolm Gladwell can build a small fortune by showing up at at various places and sharing his thoughts with important people, or just regular people (don’t forget, wise crowds). Hip-hop, always on the cutting edge of technology and business, is just one more arena in which an appeal to crowd wisdom was wholly logical. Among people who consider themselves rap fans, you have an incredibly diverse and collectively erudite population.
Placing our faith in a crowd, the accounting firm Passion & Bangin’, LLC endeavored to discern which rap albums were regarded to be the 25 greatest of all time among the people whose taste truly matters: the people. After weeks of discussion and voting, ballots were cast and counted, and a result was determined…
We are pleased to present the Greatest 25 Hip-Hop Albums of All Time (until the next time someone does this). 101 people voted, and all ballots were counted equally. Voters were asked to rank the 25 albums which they felt were the greatest, and points were assigned to each album’s position on each ballot. Any album receiving a #1 ranking was given 25 points; any album receiving a #2 was given 24 points; and so forth. After all ballots were submitted, we tallied each nominated record’s cumulative score and then divided the total by the total number of voters. This was done to ensure that some wack-ass record by Lloyd Banks couldn’t appear ranked #1 on a single ballot and end up with an average score of 25.
Today, the top 25 is being made available, along with the master scoring spreadsheet. On Monday, further analysis, critique, and rumination will be posted. From our perspective, it appears as though this project was yet another affirmation that groups of people tend to make smart choices. What do y’all think?
Below, please find the top 25 and a link to the scoring sheet. Underneath each album, we have included excerpts from various submissions. Passion & Bangin’ would like to thank all participants.
- Download the spreadsheet here!
25. Jay-Z Blueprint “A lot of people will argue that Reasonable Doubt is Jay’s best. Reasonable Doubt was too derivative for my taste. But on The Blueprint Jay was at his most obnoxious, playful and Machiavellian i.e. his best. It’s the sound of a man consciously putting the genre on his back and bum rushing the mountain top.” - Angry Citizen
24. Mos Def & Talib Kweli are Black Star“I remember coppin’ this, Aquemini, and Lenny Kravitz’s 5 on the same day. Needless to say, I was jammin’ for months. I miss those days.” - Boo Goo Doo Boom
Download:
MP3: Black Star-”Hater Players”
23. Common-Resurrection
Common just overwhelms the listener with his wordplay. The production is understated and lets him shine.” - Wendell
22. Outkast-Atliens “No album before or since has had such an initial impact on me. I literally remember walking to the record store the day this came out. I had plans to go out that night and wanted to get home so I could quickly listen before my ride got there. When my ride came, I told him I was staying home and I sat there and listened to this album straight thru, over and over, until sometime the next morning. Since then, I’ve only grown more fond of it. A complete package in terms of an overall feel, fantastic lyricism and stellar production that is unrivaled.” - Kwis
18. Fugees-The Score
“The samples and rhymes are so smooth and unabrasive, and the drum loops are strong, but not so hard-hitting that your ears start hurting after extended listening. The Score represents, to me, the perfect musical collection: interesting, challenging, and moving, but at the same time, poppy, catchy, and accessible.” - Jamie Radford
14. Ghostface Killah-Supreme Clientele“Who knows what the fuck Ghost is saying but damn does that shit sound fly.” - Searching for my Swagger
Download:
MP3: Ghostface Killah-”One”
13. N.W.A.-Straight Outta’ Compton
“The effects of this record still leave me confused as to what the net effect of N.W.A. was on rap.” - SS
Download:
MP3: N.W.A.-”Fuck tha’ Police”
12. Genius/GZA-Liquid Swords
“always the most intellectual member in the legendary wu, genius lives up to his moniker over this dark, brooding collection of rza’s coldest beats.” - Fresh Cherries from Yakima
Download:
MP3: Genius/GZA-”4th Chamber” 11. Outkast-Aquemini
“Besides the pop hits, the more artistic side of this album took a while to grow on me. But now I wonder what the fuck was wrong with me.” - Woodsonian Institute
“Prodigy’s lyrical performance on this pushes it above and beyond. With their first two albums The Mobb helped usher in the street thug era as much as BIG and Jay did.” - The Assimilated Negro
Download:
MP3: Mobb Deep-”Shook Ones Pt. II” 9. Eric B & Rakim-Paid in Full“Party records. MC records. Fast rapping. Slow rapping. Perfect for the car, the stage, a mix show. Rakim never wastes one bar and the beats fit him like a glove while sampling the best parts of the best soul records ever (Barry White, Lynn Collins, James Brown, Kool and The Gang, Syl Johnson, etc.)” - Zilla MP3: Eric B & Rakim-”I Know You Got Soul” 8. A Tribe Called Quest-Low End Theory “…this record feels more like a whole than almost anything else I’ve ever heard. Every song is perfect, from the ridiculous stripped down and spare production to the massive talents shown by both MCs.” - Better Than Butt Sex
7. A Tribe Called Quest-Midnight Marauders“Looks like we’ve found the greatest hip-hop group of all time.” - Woodsonian “This album deserves a coronation ceremony as the greatest hip hop album of all time.” - The Assimilated Negro
Download: MP3: A Tribe Called Quest-”Award Tour” 6. Public Enemy-It Takes a Nation of Millions To Hold Us Back “Easily one of the top five most important records in hip hop history, with a mid-album trifecta of monumental importance: ‘She Watch Channel Zero,’ ‘Night of the Living Baseheads,’ and the chilling ‘Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos.’” - Flood Watch Music
4. Chef Raekwon-Only Built 4 Cuban Linx“The epitome of early 90’s east coast hip hop.” - SfmS
Download:
MP3: Chef Raekwon-”Verbal Intercourse” 3. The Notorious B.I.G.-Ready to Die “So many choice cuts and Biggie rips through verses with such an amazingly captivating style: this album’s charms are impossible to resist.” - From Da Bricks
“A group of nerds from Staten Island mixed kung-fu, obscure mythology, gully talk and a cult religion to change rap forever.” - SS
“Hip-hop’s version of Sgt. Pepper.” - Passion of the Weiss
1. Nas-Illmatic
“Whenever some hippie music rag puts together a Top 100 albums of all time list it always includes Kind Of Blue at the expense of every other Jazz album ever released. When hip-hop reaches that level of recognition, Illmatic will be the album to make the list. And by the way, Nas won.” - Angry Citizen
“The Sun, Moon and stars along with the spirit of RAKIM ALLAH came together to form this rap music manifesto masterpiece.” - Dallas Penn
Why are this week’s links presented by Dr. Strangelove? Well, I’m not sure Mein Fuhrer, I mean Mr. President. However, I’m currently listening to “Dr. Strangelove” from the new Blonde Redhead record and I recently purchased the special edition of Dr. Strangelove last weekend (for $9.99 at Von’s…go figure). And honestly, how are you going to argue with a deranged German scientist named Strangelove. I thought so.
I’ll be the first one to admit that I know very little about techno. Granted, there was a brief period at the end of high school where I became briefly infatuated with rave/electronic music. I attribute this mainly to a graduation trip to Europe coupled with too much booze and recreational drug use. This tumultuous time in my life saw me attending 0 actual raves, but it did end with me owning a Fatboy Slim record, an Eiffel 65 record, a Venga Boys record and something called “Pure Rave” that I bought at a Parisian swap meet. It promised “full versions non-stop.” I never ended up listening to it, and I’m rather scared to start now.
Luckily, freshman year of college began, I discovered Rawkus Records, J5 and Dilated Peoples and that awkward one-month phase was swept under the rug, never to be discussed again. Until now, in the year 2007, a time in which my penchant for European electronica has once again reared its ugly head. No, Eiffel 65 hasn’t made a triumphant comeback (thank god), however a bevy of electronic acts have sprung up in their place. Most of which are actually good.
I wrote about the amazing Spanish group, Souvenir last month (MP3’s still active), last month, but there have been several other records catching my interest of late, including Kompakt artists Gui Boratto and The Field, the latter of whom has made one of the best electronic albums I’ve ever heard (not saying much, but still).
Axel Willner of The Field: Best Axel Since Foley
The Field is the alias of Swedish techno virtuouso, Axel Willner, pictured here in a shirt that he presumably purchased after a four-day cocaine binge. And while I don’t endorse four day cocaine binges, I can only imagine how good this album would sound after one (provided you could ignore the spiders crawling up your arms). Often described as minimalist techno, From Here We Go Sublime, is a collection of hypnotic, repetitive rhythms that manage to burrow their way into the grooves of your subconsciousness with their cool, icy detachment.
The moment this record hit the Stylus message board, sentiment was unanimous that it was headed for a Stylus Recommends tag. But it took me a while to get on board the band wagon. After all, there was that nasty series of Venga Boys flashbacks I had a few years back that doctors said can only be overcome through heavy therapy and/or brainwashing. But now that I’ve given the record a chance, I find myself getting lost inside its slashing synth lines, cold clean drums and drugged out-blissful state.
Willmer might be Swedish, but it’s almost impossible not to make Simpsons-inspired “German efficiency,” references when listening to his Kompakt debut. From Here We Go has no wasted movement, moving with the fluid grace of a marathon runner. It feels like the lost soundtrack to a low-budget Teutonic re-make of Beverly Hills Cop: more frantic, less funny, still guys named Axel. And with all honesty, there is something inherently amusing about listening to German techno made by a Swedish man named Axel. Either way, download these songs. I can guarantee they’re better listening than “I’m Blue.”
As Passion of the Weiss Chief Hippie Correspondent, Ace Cowboy points out at his Hidden Track hempfest, today is the 30th anniversary of the Grateful Dead’s 5/08/77 show at Cornell University, often regarded by Deadheads as the best show in the band’s 30 year existence. Picking the “best” Dead show is like picking out the worst episode of Everybody Loves Raymond: an impossible task. But it’s hard to argue against 5.08.77’s brilliance, with Jerry Garcia & Co. churning out effortlessly spellbinding renditions of “Scarlet Begonias/Fire on the Mountain,” “St. Stephen,” and “Jack Straw.” among others.
Tonight, the Dark Star Orchestra, are replicating the 5.08.77 experience and I wish I were there. Instead, I’m stuck in Los Angeles with the Ithaca Blues again. The only time that statement has ever been uttered. So in honor of this hallowed anniversary, hollow out an apple, light it up and enjoy the strongest defense for hippies being totally okay. The Grateful Dead.
Track List
Set 1:
New Minglewood Blues
Loser
El Paso
They Love Each Other
Jack Straw
Deal
Lazy Lightnin’
Supplication
Brown-Eyed Women
Mama Tried
Row Jimmy
Dancin’ In The Streets
Set 2:
Scarlet Begonias
Fire On The Mountain
Estimated Prophet
St. Stephen
Not Fade Away
St. Stephen
Morning Dew
We’re just going to have to get over it. Just like Shadow will never make another Endtroducing, RJD2’s never going to make another Deadringer. I know, I know. We were all sorta’ hoping that The Third Hand was just a Metal Machine-type aberration, but judging from the vibe I got in an interview I did with RJ last week, it’s safe to say that he’ s dead-serious about his move away from hip-hop based sample-heavy production towards the Starbucks scented world of Postal Service-esque electro-guitar pop.
