October 31st, 2007
Scott Towler is all about reminiscing about back in the day. Like Ahmad. Except without the Gazelles or the BK’s.
Remember the days of John Madden and Al Michaels hosting Monday Night Football? Remember how nice it was to hear the iconic voice of John Madden, perfectly complimented by Al “I do what John says” Michaels? It was nice, wasn’t it?
What happened?
In this day and age, between CBS’ piss poor coverage of everything EVER, and shows like NFL Today, Nascar Weekly, and over-eating competitions, the world of organized sports has gone fucking haywire. Worse yet, every network seems to think they need someone with a unique voice and opinion to work with said sporting event. Last time I checked , broadcasters were supposed to be unbiased, neutral, in the gray area- whatever you want to call it. But that just simply doesn’t exist anymore.
Indeed, the Network heads will hire any idiot to broadcast, from Jeanie “I’ve never taken off my heels” Zelasko broadcasting the World Series to Michele ‘I read what they tell me to’ Tafoya. They push recently retired athletes on to the air far too quickly after their careers end. They push, and they push, and they push…and finally, they hit the breaking point, best personified by these three men: arguably the worst broadcasters in basketball, baseball, and football today.
Basketball
Blow-my-brains-out, do I hate Steven A. Smith. This guy has had a stick up his ass since day one, and I think it has something to do with the fact that he thinks he looks like Kobe Bryant. But this over-opinionated idiot has been polluting my ears with completely biased basketball coverage for years. I could have handled it had Smith merely stayed a Sportscenter correspondent, but then they had to give him that show, “Quite Frankly…with Steven A. Smith.” Maybe it’s just me, but quite frankly ESPN, I’d hire a drunken penguin instead. At least the penguin can entertain us all with his delightful waddling. Or did you not see March of the Penguins?
Baseball
As if the World Series wasn’t bad enough this year with it’s lame match-up and incessant Dane Cook “There’s only one OCTOBER!” commercials, they decided to bring back a Fox sports favorite, Tim McCarver. I’m a true baseball fan. I’ve collected cards since I could walk, played for 14 years, and I watch any and every game I can. But it stems back from my childhood up in Atlanta, GA. It was 1991, the first year the Braves began their epic 90s run of disappointments. It was game 7 of the NLCS, Pirates vs. Braves, and for the entire season, Tim Mccarver had been boasting about how great the Pirates were. “Look out for the Pirates.” To this day, I’m pretty sure he meant ‘look out for Pirates (in general),” but even still…the Braves went on to win that game on a bottom 9th single by a Francisco Cabrera. The Braves advanced, and Tim Mccarver looked like an idiot for backing a team (again, being completely UNBIASED), and then watching them lose. That was 16 years ago. Somehow, that old fuck is still broadcasting today, and it’s only gotten worse with time.
Flash forward to this post season. Ever the AL fanatic (even though his entire career was spent in the NL), Tim McCarver never even gave the Rockies any chance at all. Instead of saying, “wow the Rockies really did it there,” he’s say something like, “well, the Red Sox blew it which allowed the Rockies to score.” Yeah yeah yeah, quit siding with what’s popular and just broadcast the fucking game. It’s not like I’ll change what team I’m a fan of because some old fart said that Ortiz was perfect in 7 games this season at first base. Give it a rest.
Football
Easily the worst broadcaster to ever live…ever…Tony Kornheiser has become the top hit on my ‘people I’d like to see eaten by bears’ list. This guy is so obnoxious that he makes me not want to watch Monday Night Football. And that’s unheard of. Monday Night Football is an American institution. It’s been around for years, featuring the likes of John Madden, Dennis Miller, and Jesus. Now, however, it’s become the bane of my existence.
Sometimes, I find myself tuning in just to see how much rage I can spew towards this completely fucking obnoxious and arrogant announcer. He thinks everything he says is right. Even if it’s opinion. He often clashes with Mike Tirico, whose sole purpose is to move the broadcast along! Mike isn’t there to run his mouth, he’s there to call the plays. The commentary is for the commentators…and Ron Jaworski is the only one with half a brain as far as I can tell.
Worse yet, this dipshit Kornhieser gets to leave the booth before the half so they can do his daily show (gasp), Pardon the Interruption, at halftime! So just in case you had the gun in your mouth, but had second thoughts…that should put the final nail in the coffin. He’s loud, offensive, brash, and everything you wouldn’t want in an announcer. Harold Reynolds slaps a girl’s ass and he gets fired, but Tony Kornhieser, who is universally loathed, gets 2 shows, millions of viewers, and an inflated sense of self worth. It’s enough to make you want to pack your bags, move to Europe and start watching soccer. Okay, maybe that’s a bit drastic.
Download:
MP3: The Decemberists-”The Sporting Life”
Posted in Great Scott | 10 Comments »
October 30th, 2007
Jamie Radford gives the people what they want: hilarity and strange reptile masks. This is like of an emo-rap version of the Land of the Lost. Not bad at all.
Download: Jamie Radford & Clean Guns-”Tuba Thump”
Posted in Videos | No Comments »
October 30th, 2007
I never got into Caribou prior to Andorra, mainly because of a natural aversion to animal-named bands. Yeah, yeah, I like the Wolf Parade and I’d probably give the Panda Bear record 8.6 bamboo shoots, but as a general rule, naming oneself after a furry four-legged creature usually means that you’ll end up as a bad indie-rock punchline faster than you can say AIDS Wolf.
Of course, Caribou actually used to be called Manitoba. A slightly better moniker but one unfortunately claimed by the former lead singer of the Dictators, Handsome Dick Manitoba, who presumably won the rights solely based off the fact that Handsome Dick Manitoba is the second greatest name in the history of the world (behind Handsome Dan).
On wax, Caribou is Daniel Snaith, an unassuming curly haired Canadian with a receding hairline and a Math PHD, who reportedly thought of the name Caribou while tripping on acid in the Canadian wilderness (I imagine this was right before purchasing the god-awful shirt he’s wearing in the above photo). But for his live set, the band is a four-piece with two drummers (including Snaith) and two guitarists capable of producing furious eardrum popping walls of sound.
Dan Snaith Taking It Back to His Roots, And Eating Them
Backed by a large LCD screen flashing colorful splinters of light, Caribou’s live show is pretty much what you’d expect from a bunch of guys who like to take acid and stare for hours at esoteric Canadian wildlife: psychedelic and pretty damned awesome. Their latest effort, Andorra is a deceptively sad record once you peel away all the layered guitars and electronic wizardry, but live, the band was locked in with a sweat-dripping intensity, all violent drums, serrated guitars and eerie psychedelic vocals.
It was one of the better shows I’ve been to this year and I know I say that like four times a week but really, it was. If you’ve never listened to Caribou, because you mistakenly conflated them with We Are Wolves, or Frog Eyes or Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer (they’re like Broken Social Scene meets The Annuals Meets Afro-Pop) then you should definitely check them out. I’d give them at least 8.6 bamboo shoots.
Download:
From Andorra
MP3: Caribou-”Melody Day”
MP3: Caribou-”Irene”
Posted in Beards, Blazers, & Glasses | No Comments »
October 29th, 2007
Zilla Rocca is known in some circles as the Philly underground’s version of LL Cool J. This makes Freeway very jealous. And yes, if you were wondering, I will use any and every opportunity I have to post the Bobby Digital album cover.
I don’t know about other bloggers, but a large chunk of what I write about for The Beat Generation comes from conversations I have. My much debated Jay-Z vs. Nas post stemmed from an hour long shouting match with Nico the Beast, our manager Big O and a friend of his who was a Nas-stan (nevermind Big O trying to justify LL Cool J in his top 5 MC’s of all time—that’s a whole ‘nother blog).
I just wrapped up a two-day conversation/diatribe/shouting match with a female co-worker on dating tips for men. As a world famous hip hop star, I’m known to put it down with the ladies throughout the tri-state area (even though Philadelphia was just voted the least attractive city by some tourist study—‘cause I’m sure all the hotties are chilling in Cleveland ). But this debate wasn’t about anything sexual…no, no no. This was about a kiss, and ONLY a kiss
Now, I know women. I was raised by one. I lived with one. I talk to them everyday. I like to eat with them and take them to see extremely violent films. I’m no ladies man by any means but I’m doing OK. What I have learned from women is this:
1) They will take a free date (dinner, movies, bowling, drinking shooters at Chili’s) from a large chunk of the male population.
2) If they like you enough, they will most likely show you at the end of the date in some kind of physical way.
3) If they think you are the reincarnation of Jon Favreau from Swingers (before he listened to Vince Vaughn and that guy named Sue), they will keep that physical affection to themselves; unless they feel really guilty or actual pity towards you, then you might get a kiss once but that’s it.
4) Just because you get a girl’s number and take her out doesn’t guarantee a kiss on the first date. However, if you are asking a girl for her number, get it, then arrange to take her out, you are hinting that there is some kind of romantic/physical attraction happening that you’d like to explore. It’s up to you to “seal the deal” on the date. If you don’t, refer to rules 1 and 3.
What? Like House of Pain Was Going to Do Anything?
Now, the first date is the audition. You (the man) are simply doing your best not to say anything stupid (“Don’t you just love Larry the Cable Guy?”) in hopes of getting yourself another date. She (the lady) is also up for inspection, however her levels of interest will dictate the outcome of the date. So, your job is to grab her interest and maintain it at a high level. If you do that, then you should be able to go in for a kiss with no problem.
Following that logic, if a girl is NOT interested in you based off your 3 hour audition at Dave & Buster’s, then she will maybe let you kiss her on the cheek, or she’ll give you a hug, or my favorite, give you a handshake, aka “The Crippler.” If the outcome of your first date ends in any of these, you’re most likely going to end up in the Friend Zone. Every guy has a friend trapped in the Friend Zone—a guy with tons of beautiful and available woman at his disposal and they’re all his “pals” or “buds.” He is, to quote Ace Ventura, a “la-hoo-za-her.” Unless he’s gay—that’s a serious untapped resource to straight men everywhere.
Now, I refuse to reside in the Friend Zone. So my rule of thumb is that if I cannot secure a kiss on the first date, I’m simply never calling the girl again. If she’s not digging me enough after talking on the phone, then going out with me for 2-3 hours to give me a smooch, then it’s a lost cause. You’ll either most likely end up in the Friend Zone, which is worse than sitting in hell with Soulja Boy, or you’ll get a second date as she tries to “make up her mind” if she’s digging you. That’s like eating a Kit Kat and saying “Ehh…you know I’m not sure if this is sweet enough yet. Let me try it again next weekend maybe.” Please. It’s not that complicated—you’re either enjoying the crispy chocolate covered wafer or you’re not. It’s not going to taste different next week.
Right Now, This is the Most Popular Rapper in the World. Let That Slowly Start to Sink In….
After sharing this with two female co-workers, here’s the responses I got. On a sidenote, they are not 60 years old:
“Ewww—you’s a whore!!! I can’t believe you go around putting your mouth on everybody!”
“I never kiss on the first date. That doesn’t mean I don’t like you. If I like you, I’ll kiss you on the cheek or give you a hug.”
“I wouldn’t kiss a man on the mouth until the third date.”
“You don’t know what is going on with that person’s mouth! They could have cold sores or herpes of the mouth!!!”
“I need a few more dates to check out the man’s mouth to make sure I won’t contract anything from him.”
Apparently, my female co-workers only get asked out by men who clean bathrooms at the bus station. And they’re only comfortable giving a kiss after spending 10-12 hours with someone AFTER they’ve given them a full dental examination “just in case.” And they were born apparently in 1934 but physically appear to be 25 years old.
I’m trying to get as much feedback from the outside world as possible. Please me give your thoughts on this situation because my co-workers actually think I’m crazy. Is a man being a mouth whore by expecting a kiss on the first date? Is it acceptable for a woman to give a nice, cuddly hug to indicate her high level of interest? Are Kit Kats better frozen or at room temperature?
Help me, people!
Download:
MP3: Rza-”Kiss of a Black Widow”
Posted in The Beat Generation | 18 Comments »
October 26th, 2007
Thanks to Heather “I Am Fuel You Are Friends” for reminding me that this song existed.
10. Did Dallas Austin just use the same drum pattern on every song he ever produced? I’m pretty sure that this is the exact same loop as TLC’s “Ain’t Too Proud to Beg” which would make it the exact same loop as “Hat 2 Da Back.” And yet, why I do still like all three?
9. What in God’s name are Another Bad Creation doing today? And if they aren’t strung out, binging on heroin and hookers how do they go through their normal every day existence? And if they are going through normal every day existence isn’t it VH1’s job to turn it into a “wacky” reality show.
8. Why is this song 8,321 times better than “Crank That?”But more importantly, why is this song targeted at 13-year old white (and black) girls and yet talks about playing Nintendo and meeting girls on the monkey bars rather than “Supermanning that Ho.” And most importantly, why does this sad realization make me want to move into a well-lit Internetless cave just just outside of Amsterdam.
7. Was Michael Bivens and his semi-rapped interludes the inspiration for Puffy deciding it was a good idea to “ad-lib” on every act he ever produced. And if so, is Bivens squarely to blame for Young Joc? (Edit: nevermind).
6. Was Chuck D pissed off when he realized that this beat completely ripped off “Rebel Without a Pause’s” squealing trumpets and he couldn’t get any of the sample money because they themselves jacked it from the J.B.’s “The Grunt?”
5. How is it possible that in my 26 years of living I have actually yet to meet a girl named Iesha?
4. Is Michael Bivins pointing out that A.B.C. reminded him of “my boys in New Edition,” the most redundant line in music history. I mean, was there anyone on earth who didn’t realize that A.B.C.’s entire reason for being was to try to be the next New Edition?
3. Have times changed that much where all the Grandmother in “Iesha” has to worry about is her children playing Go-Kart alone and handing out big lollipops and letters? Then again, this song is 16 years old. It’s okay to feel old now.
2. Was there really a time when people thought shirtless with overalls was a good look?
1. Is it safe to then conclude that New Jack’s Swing central problem wasn’t its music, it was its fashion?
Download:
MP3: Another Bad Creation-”Iesha”
MP3: The JB’s-”The Grunt”
Posted in 10 Questions Raised | 17 Comments »
October 25th, 2007
Now that “Fiascogate” has crushed the dreams of the Okayplayer message board junkies who’d hoped to anoint him the rightful heir to the Native Tongues conscious rap throne, they’d be well served to redirect their dork-outs (like Buggin’ Out, but nerdier) towards 24-year old South Carolina MC, Danny!, a rapper/producer who reminds me of what everyone hoped Lupe would be pre-Fiasco fiasco.
Of course, the attention paid to fucking up “Scenario” was wildly overblown and only received the coverage it did because a) it was on national television and b) instead of apologizing, Lupe got more defensive than Ann Coulter at a Hanukkah celebration. I’m all for people having their own opinions, but I think most of us can agree that Hammer was not more important than Tribe. And if you don’t agree, go listen to “Pumps and a Bump?” again. If anything, the debacle merely proved that underground heads were wrong in the first place to even think Lupe would be the next Tribe, De La, or the J.B.’s (this, of course, being categorically impossible).
However, if it were possible, I would hope that the next Tribe would have a better sense of humor than Lupe, who despite being a very good rapper has a comic ability roughly akin to your average Lesbian Tax Attorney and/or Bill O’ Reilly. What’s often missed when discussing the whole “Tribe is the Greatest Rap Group Ever” theory (admittedly, not a bad theory), is the fact that the entire Native Tongues crew were a bunch of funny dudes. For every “Scenario” there was an “I Left My Wallet in El Segundo,” for every “Electric Relaxation,” Phife would describe himself as the height of Muggsy Bogues, with the complexion of a hockey puck. Shit, De La were one of a handful of rappers to ever successfully utilize the comedic interlude.
Somehow, Prince Paul is Responsible for Both This and MC Paul Barman
Which brings me to Danny!, a 24-year old South Carolinian who released two studio albums and two beat records before realizing some minor success with last year’s Charm, an LP that earned him a spot on the Grammy short list and a deal with Def Jux. Like Lupe, Kanye, Little Brother, and every other rapper that ?uestlove has kissed with his neo-Native Tongue, Danny!’s identity comes in opposition to the gangster posturing of the “mainstream.” He went to a liberal arts college, his rhymes are clever and complex, his beats are a Fruity Loop bowl of 9th Wonder and The Ummah, and his influences are unmistakable. A loose homage to De La Soul Is Dead, Danny Is Dead! aims to emulate De La less in actual content and more in that record’s idea of being a third way between the daisy age and dope boys.
What ultimately makes the record so likeable is Danny’s wit and sense of self-awareness. He boasts that he’ll use his fame to get Raven Symone’s phone number. (Why I’m still not sure). On “Rhyme Writer Crime Fighter” he imagines himself as a rhyming super hero aiming to get home in time to watch “Seinfeld.” On “Press Conference,” he admits he doesn’t get a lot of love outside of the two or three people who know about him. Hell, the full name of his website reads “DannySwain…but who cares?” Don’t worry though, this isn’t on the MC Paul Barman “It’s funny because I know how bad I am” tip, Danny! has punch-line humor too, bragging that’s “he’s on iTunes, you’re on iSuck.”
With his official Def Jux debut slated to drop whenever El-P gets off the year-long touring treadmill, Danny has flashed enough potential for one to think that he has a shot at greatness in the future. Yet for that to happen, he’ll need to transcend his influences and create his own De La Soul Is Dead, rather than merely try to re-create it. In the meantime, Danny Is Dead! is enjoyable enough to leave you willing to listen to his request to “Let, Let Me In.”
Buy Danny is Dead
Download:
MP3: Danny!-”Rhyme Writer Crime Fighter”
MP3: Danny!-”Check It Out”
Posted in Album Reviews | 6 Comments »
October 24th, 2007
Jess Harvell’s thought-provoking Idolator piece on the nature of the hype machine beast has left me a little wary (at least today) of contributing to the instant deification (followed by the subsequent de-construction) of yet another promising young band. So I’ll keep it simple. Besides, I’ve written about the Parson Redheads before once or twice or thrice.
I’ve probably seen the Parsons six times in the last 12 months and during that time frame they’ve gone from virtual unknowns playing the Derby on a Wednesday night to getting the coveted Spaceland residency this coming January. It’s a much deserved promotion. Last Thursday night, the Parsons did what they always seem to do: put on a ridiculously fun set, packing the Spaceland stage full of people dancing, writhing and rocking out to their Byrdsian/Beachwood Sparks throwback rock. They aren’t on some Arcade Fire “let’s pretend we’re a indie rock church choir” shit. They aren’t trying to be deep and change the world. They’re just trying to make you have a good time. And I’ve yet to see them fail. They’re currently on their biggest tour yet, a nearly month-long swing through the West Coast. I can’ t promise that they’ll be your new favorite band, but at least they’ll be better the Black Kids. Whoever they are.
Also, I’ve been remiss in not talking about openers Le Switch before. Granted, I’m a little biased because I’ve known Aaron Kyle, the band’s front man since before I even knew he was in a band. (I think I figured he was a graphic designer or something like 89.2 percent of Silverlake) However, Le Switch are rightfully starting to build some buzz around these parts. Duke’s a fan and the Aquarium Drunkard recently signed them to his Autumn Tone label and in truth, I’ve rarely disagreed with both of those guys’ tastes before, so I don’t see a point now (y’know how us hive-mind thinking bloggers do). Accordingly, Le Switch put on a very solid set, one that left me excited to hear their upcoming Autumn Tone debut.
Download:
MP3: The Parson Redheads-”Punctual As Usual”
MP3: The Parson Redheads-”Full Moon”
MP3: Le Switch-”Tongue Tied”
MP3: Le Switch-”Living in Another World”
Posted in Beards, Blazers, & Glasses | No Comments »
October 24th, 2007
Hipsters do the darndest things. First, it was the Hamburgler stripes and the Madonnoteven close “leggings and then it was the fedoras and the American apparel “lame headbands.” Incidentally, they’re actually called “lame headbands,” you aren’t being ironic, you’re just being retarded. But I digress, you see a new trend has arisen out of thin air, one that threatens to pull the hipster nation out of their collective sartorial sorrows. Indeed, as of last weekend, the Silverlake/Echo Park/Somebody Get Me Out of Here nexus seems to have adopted a new look: Hipster Willie Stargell.
It all started last Friday. I was minding my business at the Sunset Rubdown show, impressed by the incredible diversity of the crowd (Otis, Art Center and FIDM graduates!), when suddenly, a rail-thin hirsute hipster wearing a 1979 “We Are Family” Pittsburgh Pirates hat came into my eye sight. The next night at the Black Lips show, I saw two more wearing identical haberdashery, bringing the total of hipsters rocking 1979 Pirates hats in one weekend to three (And yes, I just wanted to use the word haberdashery in a sentence).
I for one I see this as good news, a ray of light pressing through that great fedora-colored cloud layer. After all, who can really argue with a cool throwback fitted? Not I. But be forewarned, to borrow from Colbert, you guys are on notice. The next time I see a hipster in a Pillbox Pirates hat he better be prepared to answer arcane trivia about not just Stargell, but about Dave Parker, Bill Madlock, John “Candy Man” Candaleria,” and even Sister Sledge. So brush up on your baseball encyclopedia hipsters. I’m taking no prisoners. And for the record, even though I’m feeling the look, you guys are way more Kent Tekulve than you are Willie Stargell.
Kent Tekulve: A Huge Fiery Furnaces Fan
Download:
MP3: Sister Sledge-”We Are Family”
Posted in Best Of, It Got Weird, Didn't It? | 5 Comments »
October 23rd, 2007
Scott Towler is a terminator like Arnold Schwarzenegger. Though you can’t play him out as if his name was Sega.
Call it what you want, Interlude, Intermezzo, Entr’acte, but they all mean the same thing. Sort of. Looking back at history and trying to decide when music became a part of stage (and in later years screen) is a difficult thing to trace. For one, we don’t really honor history as much as we should with regard to the classics and the roots of performance art. Instead, we bastardize half lessons from our past into meaningless modern mediums, all of which are devoid of any true thought or homage to its derivation.
Unfortunately for us, that means that some of life’s most simple pleasures can get swept under the rug as we modernize the world. Plays get turned into movies, which get turned into TV shows, and now their latest incarnation, in the form of short viral webisodes and meaningless Youtube pablum. However, one medium hasn’t lost it’s flare: the interlude. If anything, it’s only gotten better with time. Kind of like peeps (you know, the things you get at Easter…at first they’re all squishy and gross, but then if you let them get really stale, they become these delicious hard candies. Plus you can explode them in a microwave…at least, that’s what the devil on my left shoulder said, and I trust that guy).
The interlude was never about the musician. It was simply a musical backdrop to bridge time between acts (in a play) or scenes (in a film). Many modern artists employ interludes on their albums as well, paying tribute to this. Andrew Bird, for example, has some of the most masterful interludes on his past 2 records of any artist that I’ve heard. Same with the UK’s The Divine Comedy. His last 2 albums have included a peppering of amazing interludinal work as well. And it’s clear when listening to these records that these interludes function just as they did thousands of years before in ancient Greece or Rome: breaking up the action (in this case, of the album), and keeping the audience salivating for more.
Met Her Up in Cafe Intermezzo For Some Late Night Pastry.
But how does it translate today? Clearly Andrew Bird isn’t going to produce an album of instrumentals. In fact, artists who delineate from their original course as musicians tend to flop when they take such chances. Look at the Beastie Boys most recent effort, The Mix Up. Sure, the record had merit, but it felt put on, as if they were just making something out of nothing, filling gaps in time instead of gaps in sound and action. It didn’t work for me. In Sound from the Way Out, now that’s a different story. But that’s like comparing apples to Mexicans…they’re too different to make any correlation between, yet are still inexplicably linked. Same with dollars and donuts. Go figure.
But with my love of montage in film (and no, not the closing scene from Crash), a series of scenes cut together against a musical backdrop (aka the interlude), I’ve always been searching for artists that create music specifically designed for those moments. They are few and far between, but one such label seems to be pioneering the genre. ESL records, or Eighteenth Street Lounge records is based out of Washington D.C. as was formed by the two members of Thievery Corporation, a group that has seen a tremendous upswing in popularity since Zach Braff’s employment of their song “Lebanese Blonde” in his movie Garden State. But that song (and scene aside), they offer a variety of artists that lend themselves to montage perfectly.
Many critics agree that much of Thievery Corporation’s catalogue of music blends together into one sound. Though I’m not sure if I agree with that entirely, I can see what they mean. Listening to The Mirror Conspiracy or The Richest Man in Babylon, I can hear the semblance. Many of their artists follow form in their own right, producing record after record of like minded music. Blue States, for example, and Federico Aubele (shown below), have produced two very similar sounding albums. Additionally, ESL has released a series of mixes, ranging from Thievery Corporation’s The Outernational Sound to the label’s own Jet Society and Modular Systems, that while mixing artists, tend to follow an overarching theme.
ESL: No Longer Merely For the Linguistically Deficient
And while it’s easy to call this modern lounge music, passively ingesting each track as if it were meant for the background, there’s a lot more to it. This label has taken the concept of the interlude, and stretched it into an entire realm of thinking. They’ve seamlessly blended instrumentation with digital effects and samples, while at the same time preserving a sound that doesn’t try to overtly catch your attention. And while that may not seem like much, often times in life the things that appear the most simple, or unnoticed, are often times the hardest to acheive. Think back to one of your favorite montages, or transitions in a film, and you’ll understand exactly what I mean. If nothing else, revel in the fact that an entire label - an entire collection of 100 plus unique releases - has dedicated itself to something that went virtually unnoticed until you paid it mind. It’s not quite Tennessee Williams’ blue piano, but it accomplishes the same thing.
Download:
MP3: Andrew Bird-”The Supine”
MP3: Thievery Corporation-”Outernationalist”
Posted in Great Scott | 1 Comment »
October 22nd, 2007
So I uh…interviewed Ghostface last week. It was weird. Weird in a good way, as though it was perfectly normal that the two of us were having a conversation about The Big Dough Rehab, his gripes with the Wu hierarchy and whether or not he ever played as himself in Wu Tang: Shaolin Stylue. I’d say that we bonded but somehow I don’t think “bonded” is the right verb to use when Sean Wiggs was approximately four feet away trying to spit game at what Ghost would probably have called a “fly colored Asian.” But it was still pretty cool.
The interview was for Metromix, so it’s up over there and fairly heavily edited (please ignore the use of “we,” the rhetorical questions, and the erroneous Ghostface dropped the “Killah” from his name fact). Also sniped was a question where I asked Ghost what girls he’d put in the “Who Would You Fuck” skit from Supreme Clientele were he to re-make it today. After breaking into laughter, he diplomatically said that he didn’t want to name names lest he offend someone.
I also reviewed his show at UCLA that night for the LA Times print edition. The link is also below. It wasn’t the best Ghostface show I’ve ever seen, but it was solid and really, any time I get to hear “The Juks,” “Ice Cream” and “The Forrest” performed live, I’m a happy man. Also, the new Ghostface song is below. It’s nothing earth-shattering, but still probably better than almost anything else you’ll hear this year.
Ghostface Q&A For Metromix
Ghostface Live Review in the LA Times
Download: (via Nah Right) The First Single from The Big Dough Rehab
MP3: Ghostface Killah-”Celebrate”
Posted in LA Times | 8 Comments »
