Today is my 26th birthday. Accordingly, I plan on staying as far away from the computer as possible and enjoying a full 24 hours of sloth and indolence. Regularly scheduled programming will resume tomorrow.
Also, if you’re a blogger and still haven’t updated your blogroll to the new http:/passionweiss.com site, can you please take a second to do so. Thanks.
Sometimes the personals you find in the newspaper won’t serve your needs. If you’re looking through your local personals and you aren’t sure if you’ve found the kind of singles that you’re interested in then you may be interested in free California singles listings that you can find on the Internet.
As you may have noticed, I’ve finally made the switch from blogger to wordpress in an attempt to no longer look hackey and amateurish. Don’t worry though. Despite my new fancy digs, I promise you that the writing itself will remain as hackey and amateurish as always. Please update your bookmarks and blogrolls when you have a moment. I hope you all like the new design.
Is a lead singer with a really cool hair cut. See Flock of Seagulls and/or Kid N’ Play. My Morning Jacket lead singer Jim James doesn’t really have a cool hair cut. Still, I think his band is pretty great. Labor Day has come and gone and I have neither the time nor energy for a long post at the current moment. I’m still recovering from an ill-advised trip to a NASCAR Rally on Sunday, which I hope to write about sometime soon if the ringing in my ears ever ceases.
Seeing as though today marks the beginning of Fall, there seems to be no better way to kick off the new season than with some songs from My Morning Jacket, a group whose lazy pretty Indian summer tunes seem tailor-made for the weeks that surround the harvest moon. In truth, if you really asked me my thoughts on what separates the good bands from the great, I’d probably answer that two of the most prominent marks of a great band are a deep catalogue chockful of standout B-sides and EP tracks, and the ability to cover classic songs and in the process re-write their very DNA. In my mind, My Morning Jacket succeed on both counts.
Another day, another journey into the Ameoba vortex. This afternoon, it’s siren called and by decree, I was forced to fork over the prerequisite $50 minimum. It’s going to be the only record store left in town pretty soon, which is kind of sad. But I’m pretty happy right now after this haul.
What: EPMD-”Crossover” 12″ vinyl single
Price: $6.98
Why: Because no one at Rawkus ever came close to writing an anti-commercial manifesto as good as this one. Plus, the B-Side, “Brothers from Brentwood L.I.” is one of the best of the era.
If these two could reconcile after Jay-Z fucked Nas’ baby mama and then told the world about it, how difficult could it be for me and Bradford of Deerhunter to squash our short-lived and obviously absurd beef, one most aptly summarized by Maura of Idolator as making you regret the invention of the Internet? The answer: not hard at all. Bradford sent me a very kind and apologetic e-mail yesterday and in return I did the same. In short, shit is all good. I’d explain more, but Bradford’s already done so on his own blog, so go there and while you’re at it, you ought to download some of the mixes he’s posted. They’re good. I’ll be posting a mix on their blog sometime in the next week and hopefully, he’ll do the same on the Passion. Thanks for the kind e-mails of support and for all the hateful comments that called for my head on a platter. Both were equally entertaining.
3. Because though I’ve never actually met the good folk from LA Underground, judging from the seedy connotations of their name, they would seem to be excellent people to score drugs from (and by drugs, I actually mean drugs).
2. For the opportunity to see me do a live and possibly spontaneous rant about hipsters in fedoras. And more importantly, for the opportunity to see whether or not I actually have enough pull to get the doorman to turn away the wanna-be Humphrey Bog-tards.
1. So in ten years, when all the bands on this bill are playing really big venues and engaging in Motley Crue-esque levels of debauchery, you can tell all your friends that you saw them way back when. (Provided that you don’t tell them that the show was called Now Blog This, they’ll totally think you’re awesome).
The show starts at 9 and it’s only $5. Phoenix and the Turtle go on at 9:30, Le Switch at 10:15, The Deadly Syndrome at 11:00 and Aushua at 11:45. Be there or be a quadrilateral.
The long-term status of one of Los Angeles’ beloved institutions is in jeopardy right now, after the owner of the New Beverly Cinema, Sherman Torgan passed away from a heart attack last week. (See the very good LA Times obit) For those that haven’t been to the New Beverly Cinema, it’s one of LA’s hidden treasures, the last full-time revival house left in the city, a place for movie geeks and cineastes of all stripes to come together and watch classic films on the big screen.
Few theaters anywhere can match the breadth and quality of the films that Sherman Torgan hand-picked for viewing, but even fewer can match the sense of family and community that the New Beverly has built up over the years. With Torgan’s passing, the theater will be taken over in the interim by his family. If you’ve never been to the New Beverly, now’s the the time to go, as it needs your business now more than ever. Seriously, how in god’s name can you not love a theater that shows an 80s double feature of Back to the Future and Goonies, all for $7 (July 29-31)? It’s easy to shrug and hope that places like this stay in business. It’s more difficult to get up and actually patronize them. If you get the chance, I sincerely recommend doing so. LA can’t afford to lose another one of its finest institution.
I was supposed to have a different post up today, but fate struck in the form of my cell crumbling in my palm last night. Yes, you heard me right, it literally crumbled in my palm. You see a car backfired, I juggled it, caught it in mid-air and when I opened up my hand, it looked like it had been guillotined. I didn’t even know such a thing was possible.
Naturally, I have no land-line (thanks telemarketers), so I’m forced to drop everything to go into the Verizon Store to get it fixed. I anticipate this trip will take roughly the run-time of listening to the new T.I. record back to back and will probably be even more dull (if such a thing is possible). The thing about going to a Verizon store is no matter what time of day you roll up , you can always count on a few things to occur: you will wait in a long line while listening to Fergie. Secondly, you will encounter an employee who will give you some sort of static, involving the phrase, “uh…sir your plan doesn’t cover that.” Third, mid-way through the second hour you will fantasize about committing some sort of mass murder involving a cell phone lighter charger , three of the four Black Eyed Peas (that App. D. App fellow can stay, just because) and a pack of double AA batteries. Maybe that’s just me. Either way, I’m just hoping the gods of cellphone maintenance take mercy on my soul. Pray for me.
Ian Cohen usually writes for Stylus. Occasionally, he drops some knowledge on us here at The Passion. Cohen’s Corner is something akin to what you’d expect Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey to have been like, if Handey was smarter, jewier and really really into Wu-Tang. Enjoy.
There are a couple of calls I always look forward to. One is when my fiancée unwittingly goes to Atlanta in the summer and realizes that it’s Gay Pride Day and that there better be a liquor store she can walk to, because she sure as shit won’t be able to get anywhere any time soon. The other is when my mans an’ ‘em Wops calls from New York because he foolishly attempted to take a cab during Puerto Rican Day parade and now it’s in the process of nearly being turned over. Puerto Ricans and gays: two groups who use their day of pride to wave a bunch of flags and fuck up traffic. You’d think they’d get along better, really.
“Turn On The Bright Lights” is one of the best records of the decade and possibly the only album that sounds as good on an NYC subway as “Muddy Waters.” I also fucked with “Antics” because I missed the memo to do otherwise. With that in mind, here’s my review of the new Interpol record: halfway through my first listen, I decided I’d rather hear “The M.G.M.” instead. Make of that what you will.
I’d feel more comfortable with the Sixers drafting someone named Thaddeus if the NBA was a yachting league.
When you’re drinking a Tab, anyone who notices that fact immediately becomes the funniest person in the known universe. This is a fact.
I’m OK with Pitchfork consistently overrating southern rappers because it leads to hilariously apologetic reviews when they refuse to admit an album sucks in spite of all evidence to the contrary. If they could apply their unconditional love of trap rap to child bearing, they’d all be parents of the year. Someone (you can probably figure out who) actually said this about the new T.I. record: “Even if the concept falls flat, though, T.I. vs. T.I.P. still warrants a listen, if only because T.I. seems constitutionally incapable of releasing an album full of uncompelling music.” When it’s all said and done, I will probably have listened to “Rockstar Mentality” at least a dozen more times than T.I. vs T.I.P. and that’s a record I actually had to review. T-t-t-totally dude.
Suffice to Say if You are a Rapper With the Word “Boy,” or “Boyz” in Your Name, You Probably Suck. Fat Boys Excluded
Not that any trip I take to Ikea ends up something less than profound, but after today’s experience in Costa Mesa, I’ve come to realize that the Old Testament is built upon some pretty egregious lies. Chief amongst them are that Jews really aren’t good at building shit; a fucking futon busted my ass, and you’re telling me that some Hebrew built a motherfucking ark? Or the Egyptian pyramids? I mean, is it a coincidence that Jesus had to move on to a new line of work?
But now I’m a futon owner, which makes me really excited because now dead prez and I have something in common. And yes, that’s pretty much how horrible I am at interior decorator I am; I was willing to drive an hour each way to Orange County because after being in Philadelphia (where there’s, like, THREE within driving distance…that’s insane) and Athens, I simply have no idea what else to do. Before that, my apartment’s décor could best be described as “functional drug abuser,” where your furniture consists of a guitar, bed and TV. I know it would set me back about six years or so, but I was ready to go out and buy Radiohead and Van Gogh posters again just to have some shit put up on the walls. Or calling home and saying, “yeah- all those CD’s in the garage…ship that shit out. Your son might have to turn his apartment into a soup kitchen because he can’t think of shit else to take up space.”
I always find the “at least it doesn’t suck” line of thinking to be a bit reductive in music criticism. Remember when the Cure came out with that record in 2004? Anyone? Yeah, they have almost none of the original members, the main dude picked a producer that was totally wrong for them and I’ll probably never play it two months after its release, but AT LEAST IT DOESN’T SUCK- four stars! In unrelated news, “Zeitgeist.”
But Have Billy Corgan and Moby Ever Been Seen Together in the Same Room at the Same Time?
Look, sometimes I think about penning an OST for Stylus for all of Corgan’s post-”Adore” works, but then I think better of it because listening to “TheFutureEmbrace” isn’t something you’re liable to catch me doing when I could be…I dunno…re-reading today’s post on Fire Joe Morgan or whatevs. I mean, I’ll rep parts of “MACHINA” even though that shit’s so overprocessed, M83 could cover it without having to buy one piece of new gear. And was Zwan really that bad? Just looking at some of “Zeitgeist”’s review, you’d think that was Billy doing Wolf Eyes material or a song-for-song interpretation of “Self Portrait.”
But here’s the strange thing about The Smashing Pumpkins- how do you become that much worse after losing the only two people in the band that didn’t do anything? Has that ever happened before? Usually, the control freak ditches the dead weight and carries on just fine…I mean, look at Wham!.
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