You sure grew up in a hurry, already eager to talk big brains. Find your medium and find your words that the call sounded runs a maze route across parallels and meridians to the far corners, electric lines lit up blue as an index finger traces the globe. And we will come running ready to engage. Open wide to talk tallllllllllllll every point you mean to make and watch us drop off off off. I can only stand so much or too little for this long following warbling pitches with my eyes of what you mean to be. It's easy enough to beat us all or to reach us all. Us all we want is to ascend your peak and know you are me or he or she or--
I am not so imperious that what you say has no effect. You sure grew up in a big brain, eager to talk hurried already. Find your parallels and find your meridians that the sound calls a maze route run across words and media to the electric corners, far lines lit up as a trace fingers the blue globe index. And we will come ready running to engage. Drop off off off every point talked tallllllllllllll you meant to make wide open. My eyes only stand so much or too little for I can warble pitches following what you meant to be. It's easy enough to reach us all or to beat us all. We all want to ascend your peak and know you are me or he or she or us.
01 June 2009
21 May 2009
But you're lucky
Sad and stately Sadie sits in the foyer waiting for silly Shelly to putter on home. I can't ask you for a treat because I'm a dog, but I would like to go on a walk. Saaaaaaaaaaaaddddddd and stately Sadie says hello silly Shelly good of you to come home. But now it's too late and stately Sadie is curling up for bed with The Moms. Silly Shell, she'll sleep alone while stately Sadie says hello with her eyes closed. It's a dream. Tree-for-tree and sheep to sleep sheepish Shell says silly football foot dangling from the pup's mouth. Pupscout pitches tents pitches strikes while Booboo's custom putter putts the 18th hole before puttering on home to avoid sleep sheep want softball strikes in the catcher's glove. Sad and stately he'll wait awhile before full-grown to leave the house on his own. The pup wants pats on the head, but if everyone's gone to bed then she won't be alone in sheepish sleep with silly Shell catching sad and stately Booboo's softball strikes. Soccer strikes from The Moms who'll walk you when she gets home stately Sadie, you'll never be alone because Jakie's always prone to staying round in pitched tents awaiting softballs thrown.
01 February 2009
29 January 2009
Handsome Furs' Face Control
Link2Listen - "I'm Confused"
[2009]
Not a song but an album review under the auspices of the namesake though it leaked quite some time ago, the Internet is still missing track 10 "(It's Not Me, It's You)", but the word is that it's an instrumental like a few other pieces on the album, so I feel I'm 11/12-capable of making this review. Also, it's an H band, who can resist? There are beats and synth and guitar. The aggregate is shrill pulsation. Doing research taking cues from the collective consciousness. Why let others impress upon their auditory-perceptive references? Deliberate references deconstruct preconceptions in favor of comparisons. Sonic-quoting for post-creation critical studies in socio-media commentary contextualized by implications leading to self-actualization. The punchline is artistic intent because of historical consciousness aether. Is the question then collective vs historical realization? The Information Affliction of the Information Age desires to recall the post-ironic warmth dialectic, that death will give life to counter-existence is too real of a paradox to be a paradox when it's so close the air is rife overwhelming whatever sensory acutes. That's why there's a dog; it's a warning. Take cues from Russia, there are some real winners dyed red in the Winter Palace. Again, why does it make sense?
[2009]Not a song but an album review under the auspices of the namesake though it leaked quite some time ago, the Internet is still missing track 10 "(It's Not Me, It's You)", but the word is that it's an instrumental like a few other pieces on the album, so I feel I'm 11/12-capable of making this review. Also, it's an H band, who can resist? There are beats and synth and guitar. The aggregate is shrill pulsation. Doing research taking cues from the collective consciousness. Why let others impress upon their auditory-perceptive references? Deliberate references deconstruct preconceptions in favor of comparisons. Sonic-quoting for post-creation critical studies in socio-media commentary contextualized by implications leading to self-actualization. The punchline is artistic intent because of historical consciousness aether. Is the question then collective vs historical realization? The Information Affliction of the Information Age desires to recall the post-ironic warmth dialectic, that death will give life to counter-existence is too real of a paradox to be a paradox when it's so close the air is rife overwhelming whatever sensory acutes. That's why there's a dog; it's a warning. Take cues from Russia, there are some real winners dyed red in the Winter Palace. Again, why does it make sense?
They bust we bust/they rust we rust.
Baby- shut down the machine.
28 January 2009
Garbage's "Androgyny"
Link2Listen
'Veggie Love': PETA's Banned Super Bowl Ad
& Connecting the dots
[2001]
Struggling to come up with a G band whose song was readily available on the Internet and about which I might care, I half-jokingly picked "Androgyny", recalling 8th grade when I thought I was cool. Well I'm still cool, but Garbage definitely less so. Anyway, the half-joking issue arises because coming up with these spectacular images is difficult and time-consuming! I thought I could get away with posting pictures of superbabe Shirley Manson. Fast-forward to a Google Image search, and now I wonder if she hasn't aged nearly as gracefully as me. Whatever. BrooklynVegan posts this banned ad like literally half an hour ago, and it makes my life easier to just toss you a flier of Ms Manson being a superfreak -- everything works out. Superb.
The song itself... well, I suppose I could've picked better, but it's good for me to exercise the other end of my vocabulary, and the other options weren't stellar anyway. The production is nice enough, but comes off too clean in that one wonders if this is even a band's effort. I guess Butch Vig has always been about the studio sound anyway. The verse leaves a lot to be desired with synthetic sounds spliced together obscenely almost gratingly and a completely uninteresting vocal hook, but hitting the chorus, the guitar spins this circular riff, that doesn't do too bad. Shirley Manson dosen't do too bad, esp when her voice is dubbed over x times processed &c. The bridge degenerates into this inoffensive space blipping burgeoned by a single tone held out, while Shirley explores her softer upper range. The real gem in this song, however, is the bridge's re-entry into the chorus as the vocals draw the crossfade and most everything else has cut out to give way to a single electronic note. It's like a classic microwave bell dinging that the grub's done! -- not this modern beeping that let's you know that yes, the food is still in the microwave hold on I'm coming the world doesn't revolve around you you stupid microwave -- the days when everything used to work out.
The Premier League matches -- yes, I realize that essentially all of my miscellanea has been soccer-related, and not just soccer-related but English soccer-related -- run midweek this week -- I can't decide if I like or abhor the syllabic cadence and repetition of that... midweek this week... -- but I'm gearing up for another Liverpool heartbreaker. At least Emile Heskey is gone, and we've already seen him open his Aston Villa account today grabbing the winner against *tear* Portsmouth. Oh my dear Peter Crouch, what have you gotten yourself into now? Anyway, instead of more Kop Laments, I figured I'd just talking about transfers and what not:
OK, so it's a Kop Lament, but that Robbie Keane... we've all been waiting, and we're still waiting, and we really do want to give you a chance because you have a fabulous history, but honestly things are just not working out. Yeah, you scored a few important goals for us, and Rafa has difficulty picking a workable starting XI, but you still suck more than you should. I'm a Babel fan, and if he gets a fair time on the pitch, I'd be willing to bet that he'd be more effective than your sorry ass.
Comparably, Dimitar Berbatov, huge bust sure, but at least he's keeping ManU in certain games considering everyone else is getting injured. They say Tevez (of whom I'm also not a fan) hits the important goals, but really it's been Berba knocking them home in the sorry 1-0 displays. Well three points is three points, no denial.
Pretty boy Deco been hitting the headlines as of lateish defending fatty boy Felipão the manager, but Deco's injuries and lack of goals/intuit compared to his Barca heyday form means he's not linking up with Chelsea's pitiful frontline. Yes, Anelka, learn to dribble. You can't poach every goal as recent times have revealed and your league-leading margin dwindles to...
Robinho. What a bastard. Sucks. Also picks everything off. This season is a disappointing one in that there's no runaway goal scoring strikers, but the goals at least are still plentiful, and fresh feet find the ball find the back of the net. The baby boy's got some fancy moves and some pace on him, but honestly, terrible terrible player. I'd call him the biggest bust if my pre-opinion of him could get any lower.
And finally, in anticipation of what is probably going to be a "no"... Russian Euro08 superhero Andrei Arshavin's maybe move to Arsenal. I can unequivocally say that everyone who has heard of him/transfer saga is superlatively tired of hearing about him. Palyvuchenko was Russia's real star anyway, and he too is doing less that awesome over at da Hotspurs. Blahblahblah Arshavin. Zenit had a CL chance, BUST. Maybe the Goons need him due to injuries, but they weren't faring much better with Cesc who is much better according to everyone anyway.
'Veggie Love': PETA's Banned Super Bowl Ad
& Connecting the dots
[2001]
Struggling to come up with a G band whose song was readily available on the Internet and about which I might care, I half-jokingly picked "Androgyny", recalling 8th grade when I thought I was cool. Well I'm still cool, but Garbage definitely less so. Anyway, the half-joking issue arises because coming up with these spectacular images is difficult and time-consuming! I thought I could get away with posting pictures of superbabe Shirley Manson. Fast-forward to a Google Image search, and now I wonder if she hasn't aged nearly as gracefully as me. Whatever. BrooklynVegan posts this banned ad like literally half an hour ago, and it makes my life easier to just toss you a flier of Ms Manson being a superfreak -- everything works out. Superb.
The song itself... well, I suppose I could've picked better, but it's good for me to exercise the other end of my vocabulary, and the other options weren't stellar anyway. The production is nice enough, but comes off too clean in that one wonders if this is even a band's effort. I guess Butch Vig has always been about the studio sound anyway. The verse leaves a lot to be desired with synthetic sounds spliced together obscenely almost gratingly and a completely uninteresting vocal hook, but hitting the chorus, the guitar spins this circular riff, that doesn't do too bad. Shirley Manson dosen't do too bad, esp when her voice is dubbed over x times processed &c. The bridge degenerates into this inoffensive space blipping burgeoned by a single tone held out, while Shirley explores her softer upper range. The real gem in this song, however, is the bridge's re-entry into the chorus as the vocals draw the crossfade and most everything else has cut out to give way to a single electronic note. It's like a classic microwave bell dinging that the grub's done! -- not this modern beeping that let's you know that yes, the food is still in the microwave hold on I'm coming the world doesn't revolve around you you stupid microwave -- the days when everything used to work out.
The Premier League matches -- yes, I realize that essentially all of my miscellanea has been soccer-related, and not just soccer-related but English soccer-related -- run midweek this week -- I can't decide if I like or abhor the syllabic cadence and repetition of that... midweek this week... -- but I'm gearing up for another Liverpool heartbreaker. At least Emile Heskey is gone, and we've already seen him open his Aston Villa account today grabbing the winner against *tear* Portsmouth. Oh my dear Peter Crouch, what have you gotten yourself into now? Anyway, instead of more Kop Laments, I figured I'd just talking about transfers and what not:
OK, so it's a Kop Lament, but that Robbie Keane... we've all been waiting, and we're still waiting, and we really do want to give you a chance because you have a fabulous history, but honestly things are just not working out. Yeah, you scored a few important goals for us, and Rafa has difficulty picking a workable starting XI, but you still suck more than you should. I'm a Babel fan, and if he gets a fair time on the pitch, I'd be willing to bet that he'd be more effective than your sorry ass.
Comparably, Dimitar Berbatov, huge bust sure, but at least he's keeping ManU in certain games considering everyone else is getting injured. They say Tevez (of whom I'm also not a fan) hits the important goals, but really it's been Berba knocking them home in the sorry 1-0 displays. Well three points is three points, no denial.
Pretty boy Deco been hitting the headlines as of lateish defending fatty boy Felipão the manager, but Deco's injuries and lack of goals/intuit compared to his Barca heyday form means he's not linking up with Chelsea's pitiful frontline. Yes, Anelka, learn to dribble. You can't poach every goal as recent times have revealed and your league-leading margin dwindles to...
Robinho. What a bastard. Sucks. Also picks everything off. This season is a disappointing one in that there's no runaway goal scoring strikers, but the goals at least are still plentiful, and fresh feet find the ball find the back of the net. The baby boy's got some fancy moves and some pace on him, but honestly, terrible terrible player. I'd call him the biggest bust if my pre-opinion of him could get any lower.
And finally, in anticipation of what is probably going to be a "no"... Russian Euro08 superhero Andrei Arshavin's maybe move to Arsenal. I can unequivocally say that everyone who has heard of him/transfer saga is superlatively tired of hearing about him. Palyvuchenko was Russia's real star anyway, and he too is doing less that awesome over at da Hotspurs. Blahblahblah Arshavin. Zenit had a CL chance, BUST. Maybe the Goons need him due to injuries, but they weren't faring much better with Cesc who is much better according to everyone anyway.
27 January 2009
Frank Zappa's "Wowie Zowie"
Link2Listen
Day two of GraffitiGate continues as my horrendous obsession with MS Paint bleeds over into Pavement's Wowee Zowee cover. Though, for the record, all my masterpieces are created sans Photoshop, but I will admit that the "airbrush" tool usage is spilling over into "Egregious" Territory. Just some background info, Pavement's Wowee Zowee is not "Wowie Zowie"-inspired, but I couldn't pass up the Pavement opportunity. OK, on with it.
[1966]
The tricks to the song -- the way it rattles chimes shimmers snaps with weird 4-D vocals and weird 5-D lyrics -- transverse whatever I am. This isn't the 60s trip, it's one-piece bathing suit (for males esp) diving headfirst hands above head pressed together into the rainbow spiral of cell matter at which the shrink ray's pointed. It swirls around, and the kids are making the doowop voices highhighhigh and lowlowlow. Stick it on the psychedelic tunes comp for children who sing and dance nonsensically with their Casios. They'll be better for it. They'll grow into it. Here's how it goes:
3-D (including the first two dimensions) bring the figure to life, lengthXwidthXheight
4-D channels through time as the spectrum is the mallet dragged up and down across the xylophone (well, at least I think it's a xylophone)
5-D words it only the way non sequitur can in color
Anyway let's cover the basics just to make sure the point's getting across: teen-age (I told you they'd grow into it) love song disregarding everything (hygiene and well, mostly hygiene I guess; leg-shaving, teeth-brushing) (OK also the age-old teen-age rebellious streak against THE HEAT POPO WHAT HAVE YOU) for said teen-age love. Cap it off one more time!
XXXYYYZZZ
WO/ZO-WIE
1234,1234
Day two of GraffitiGate continues as my horrendous obsession with MS Paint bleeds over into Pavement's Wowee Zowee cover. Though, for the record, all my masterpieces are created sans Photoshop, but I will admit that the "airbrush" tool usage is spilling over into "Egregious" Territory. Just some background info, Pavement's Wowee Zowee is not "Wowie Zowie"-inspired, but I couldn't pass up the Pavement opportunity. OK, on with it.[1966]
The tricks to the song -- the way it rattles chimes shimmers snaps with weird 4-D vocals and weird 5-D lyrics -- transverse whatever I am. This isn't the 60s trip, it's one-piece bathing suit (for males esp) diving headfirst hands above head pressed together into the rainbow spiral of cell matter at which the shrink ray's pointed. It swirls around, and the kids are making the doowop voices highhighhigh and lowlowlow. Stick it on the psychedelic tunes comp for children who sing and dance nonsensically with their Casios. They'll be better for it. They'll grow into it. Here's how it goes:
3-D (including the first two dimensions) bring the figure to life, lengthXwidthXheight
4-D channels through time as the spectrum is the mallet dragged up and down across the xylophone (well, at least I think it's a xylophone)
5-D words it only the way non sequitur can in color
Anyway let's cover the basics just to make sure the point's getting across: teen-age (I told you they'd grow into it) love song disregarding everything (hygiene and well, mostly hygiene I guess; leg-shaving, teeth-brushing) (OK also the age-old teen-age rebellious streak against THE HEAT POPO WHAT HAVE YOU) for said teen-age love. Cap it off one more time!
XXXYYYZZZ
WO/ZO-WIE
1234,1234
26 January 2009
The Evens' "Around the Corner"
Link2Listen
[2005]
Punk-style is Ian Mackaye-style. When the guitar rolls across the stereo with an echo and a woman's voice in the wake, this is lifestyle. Sparse drums carried by a repeated guitar line, it's hard to tell if anything's happen. Nevertheless her voice pushes on to the chorus where it's buoyed by softly by Mackaye. Immediately following, the song turns the corner: the open hats call the blood of the song holding through until that same guitar line being traced around the Building DCsXe in chalk have taken the place of Mackaye taken the place of her taken the place in his heart Building DChXc, dischord. Her. Elusive her. She keeps him on the ground. When the song cuts out for just a moment around 2:18, the listener already knows, another corner turned, another shift in the sound. Predictable enough. The totality, however, cuts out before another corner can be turned the line traced comes home. Left facing the opposite direction, opposite punk-style, from whence he came. They've been saying it all along:
[2005]Punk-style is Ian Mackaye-style. When the guitar rolls across the stereo with an echo and a woman's voice in the wake, this is lifestyle. Sparse drums carried by a repeated guitar line, it's hard to tell if anything's happen. Nevertheless her voice pushes on to the chorus where it's buoyed by softly by Mackaye. Immediately following, the song turns the corner: the open hats call the blood of the song holding through until that same guitar line being traced around the Building DCsXe in chalk have taken the place of Mackaye taken the place of her taken the place in his heart Building DChXc, dischord. Her. Elusive her. She keeps him on the ground. When the song cuts out for just a moment around 2:18, the listener already knows, another corner turned, another shift in the sound. Predictable enough. The totality, however, cuts out before another corner can be turned the line traced comes home. Left facing the opposite direction, opposite punk-style, from whence he came. They've been saying it all along:
There is no aroundthecorner anymore.
The hXc is dead, long live the sXe, right?
25 January 2009
David Byrne's "Blue Hawaii"
Link2Listen
[2008]
Season 2 featured music by David Byrne, leading to a release entitled Big Love: Hymnal, which as soundtrack music, is kinda unimpressive without the images onscreen to guide -- even if the music's done by Byrne. Fortunately for the readership, Byrne recorded a song-song for the very first episode of the second season -- which I must admit I don't remember hearing. But here it is! For you! Season 3 kicked off last Sunday and another episode airs tonight for those lucky enough to have HBO. This post then, is mostly a compromise: a vehicle by which I can promote Big Love while still engaging the song-per-day format, and all are encouraged to check out both aspects -- Big Love and David Byrne -- though they're better off separately. Just a heads-up. God I feel like such a shill.
[2008]Season 2 featured music by David Byrne, leading to a release entitled Big Love: Hymnal, which as soundtrack music, is kinda unimpressive without the images onscreen to guide -- even if the music's done by Byrne. Fortunately for the readership, Byrne recorded a song-song for the very first episode of the second season -- which I must admit I don't remember hearing. But here it is! For you! Season 3 kicked off last Sunday and another episode airs tonight for those lucky enough to have HBO. This post then, is mostly a compromise: a vehicle by which I can promote Big Love while still engaging the song-per-day format, and all are encouraged to check out both aspects -- Big Love and David Byrne -- though they're better off separately. Just a heads-up. God I feel like such a shill.
24 January 2009
Clinic's "Porno"
Contrary to popular belief, Liverpool's no1 musical export is not The Beatles nor anyone else for whom anyone else would care to make an argument save CLINIC. The drums are resolute and then for a second maybe not but with the bass now the drums are resolute, and the melodica is a gauzy yearn riding the tide, and the whole way through we're treated to this shifting rhythmic backbone, slinky and oddly sexy like The Cooler's Bernie Lootz -- more commonly known in real life as the usually unsexy-William H Macy.
That "Porno" can pull it off is not a testament to the unsettling moans that may horrify or enrapture--
is not a testament to the sibilant drum machine clicks keeping time while the snare and bass thrust forward in an uneven groove--
is not a testament to the delayed gratification (waiting nearly half the song) of lyrics emerging from the deflated vocals--
is not a testament to the decline in vocals to drop the music before building back up into an echoed moan rippling across time to a sudden jerk of fuzz overwhelming like the TV picture rolling vertically on the screen--
is not a testament to the sort-of climax of syllables of bored and boys slurred together before a final moan is blurred together with a high ripple of sonic pleasure while skittering noise surrounds.
That "Porno" can pull it off is a testament to the "in-between": static-filled keys press urgently between moaning (:50, 1:18), keeping it on to pull if off.
Supposed that something so meaningful is so empty? Save US.
That "Porno" can pull it off is not a testament to the unsettling moans that may horrify or enrapture--
is not a testament to the sibilant drum machine clicks keeping time while the snare and bass thrust forward in an uneven groove--
is not a testament to the delayed gratification (waiting nearly half the song) of lyrics emerging from the deflated vocals--
is not a testament to the decline in vocals to drop the music before building back up into an echoed moan rippling across time to a sudden jerk of fuzz overwhelming like the TV picture rolling vertically on the screen--
is not a testament to the sort-of climax of syllables of bored and boys slurred together before a final moan is blurred together with a high ripple of sonic pleasure while skittering noise surrounds.
That "Porno" can pull it off is a testament to the "in-between": static-filled keys press urgently between moaning (:50, 1:18), keeping it on to pull if off.
Supposed that something so meaningful is so empty? Save US.
23 January 2009
Bree Sharp's "David Duchovny"
Link2Listen
[1999]
Honestly you could just read the title of the song, and then I wouldn't have to write anything. The music is (for the most part) inoffensively passable, and really the only thing that matters is the lyrics which should make any who ply the trade feel grossly incompetent. Here're some (in all seriousness) brilliance-highlighting excerpts:
David Duchovny floating above me/In the alien light of the spaceship of love, I need/David Duchovny hovering above me/American Heathcliff, brooding and comely/David Duchovny, why won't you love me?
My bags are packed, I am ready for my flight/Want to put an end to my daydream days and sleepless nights/Sitting like a mindless clone/Wishing he would tap my phone/Just to hear the breath of the man, the myth, the monotone/And I would say...
David Duchovny I want you to love me/To kiss and to hug me, debrief and debug me/David Duchovny I know you could love me/I'm sweet and I'm cuddly - I'm gonna kill Scully!
So you read the title and now some lyrics, and I didn't really have to write anything to convey what this song is. I wasn't joking about those lyrics.
[1999]Honestly you could just read the title of the song, and then I wouldn't have to write anything. The music is (for the most part) inoffensively passable, and really the only thing that matters is the lyrics which should make any who ply the trade feel grossly incompetent. Here're some (in all seriousness) brilliance-highlighting excerpts:
David Duchovny floating above me/In the alien light of the spaceship of love, I need/David Duchovny hovering above me/American Heathcliff, brooding and comely/David Duchovny, why won't you love me?
My bags are packed, I am ready for my flight/Want to put an end to my daydream days and sleepless nights/Sitting like a mindless clone/Wishing he would tap my phone/Just to hear the breath of the man, the myth, the monotone/And I would say...
David Duchovny I want you to love me/To kiss and to hug me, debrief and debug me/David Duchovny I know you could love me/I'm sweet and I'm cuddly - I'm gonna kill Scully!
So you read the title and now some lyrics, and I didn't really have to write anything to convey what this song is. I wasn't joking about those lyrics.
22 January 2009
Autolux's "Here Comes Everybody" & "Asleep at the Trigger"
Link2Listen1
Link2Listen2
[2004]
Since my posts have been sort of scatterbrained, I'm imposing a structure starting with the letter A where each day is the next letter of the alphabet. Should I actually make it to Z (unlikely), then we'll go back to A again &c. Of course, certain letters are bound to run out quicker than others -- three points to whomever correctly guesses which letter dies first -- but we will cross that bridge blah blah blah. Also pictures are nice, so I will start working on that.
As I was late to posting for Wednesday, readership is rewarded -- or cheated, depending on the perspective of songs vs posts -- with two songs in this post, gapless (more cheating) on the album Future Perfect.
Start it dangling; fuzz it grunge. BeatBeat BeatBeat BeatBeat BeatBeat Punch. Femvox float above "Here Comes Everybody" while everything gets furious in a very calm way. Run it again baby. The entire ride through sounds like a hidden chime noise amalgam ringing and leading -- the drum rhythmic pattern folding into slightly crunchy chords with echo delay reverb dragging the sense. Run it again. The payoff: everything falls away; enter toy piano punching the chimes that had to've been coming. Smooooooth. Wind whirling in the background, femvox take center stage for part two "Asleep at the Trigger". Beat Beat BeatBeat Beat, the pulse for shimmering strums with wind growling the low-force funnel. It gets narrow. Guitar sounds almost hollow now, and eventually the wind yawns|stretches f(x)=sin(x) into a low (g)rumble. The party comes; the party came.
Link2Listen2
[2004]
Since my posts have been sort of scatterbrained, I'm imposing a structure starting with the letter A where each day is the next letter of the alphabet. Should I actually make it to Z (unlikely), then we'll go back to A again &c. Of course, certain letters are bound to run out quicker than others -- three points to whomever correctly guesses which letter dies first -- but we will cross that bridge blah blah blah. Also pictures are nice, so I will start working on that.
As I was late to posting for Wednesday, readership is rewarded -- or cheated, depending on the perspective of songs vs posts -- with two songs in this post, gapless (more cheating) on the album Future Perfect.
Start it dangling; fuzz it grunge. BeatBeat BeatBeat BeatBeat BeatBeat Punch. Femvox float above "Here Comes Everybody" while everything gets furious in a very calm way. Run it again baby. The entire ride through sounds like a hidden chime noise amalgam ringing and leading -- the drum rhythmic pattern folding into slightly crunchy chords with echo delay reverb dragging the sense. Run it again. The payoff: everything falls away; enter toy piano punching the chimes that had to've been coming. Smooooooth. Wind whirling in the background, femvox take center stage for part two "Asleep at the Trigger". Beat Beat BeatBeat Beat, the pulse for shimmering strums with wind growling the low-force funnel. It gets narrow. Guitar sounds almost hollow now, and eventually the wind yawns|stretches f(x)=sin(x) into a low (g)rumble. The party comes; the party came.
20 January 2009
R.E.M.'s "Catapult"
Link2Listen
[1983]
Listening to this song is like eating crunchy peanut butter and then smooth peanut butter and then back and then forth which means it's got a very thick overall sound. The transitions are the worst part of this eating mess, but switching between the two and settling is pretty quick, so the enjoyment keeps on coming. Maybe this idea doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but neither does the song. It's probably about something obscene. All I know that is when he sings "catapult caaatapult" the acoustic guitar is soooo good.
I don't really want to talk about how right I was about Liverpool, but here's a list of games that'll decide the outcome of the Liverpudlian season (home teams listed first):
01 Feb: Liverpool-Chelsea
17 Feb: Manchester United-Fulham
14 Mar: Manchester United-Liverpool
21 Mar: Liverpool-Aston Villa
18 Apr: Liverpool-Arsenal
16 May: Manchester United-Arsenal
So basically Man U have all their important games at home, esp with Liverpool playing at Old Trafford in what is the KEY game. As it stands (cet. par. of course), this is Liverpool's to lose even though they're not even top of the pops. If Man U picks up even a point (which is to be assumed) from Fulham, then they're ahead, with Liverpool's only opportunity to catch up being the head-to-head. Arsenal acts as the wild card with their previous positive result against the Mancs, but Liverpool need the full three in all of their important matches, which is not boding well. The people will say that the league this season has been topsy-turvy with surprising results all over the place, but Man U are finally in form even if they're not winning by amazing margins. Liverpool are in draw form.
THE BOTTOM LINE: Arsenal should realize that they don't want Man U to win a third consecutive title and thus concede their game with Liverpool, then go all out to take down the reigning champions in the last important game of the season. Godspeed RVP.
[1983]
Listening to this song is like eating crunchy peanut butter and then smooth peanut butter and then back and then forth which means it's got a very thick overall sound. The transitions are the worst part of this eating mess, but switching between the two and settling is pretty quick, so the enjoyment keeps on coming. Maybe this idea doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but neither does the song. It's probably about something obscene. All I know that is when he sings "catapult caaatapult" the acoustic guitar is soooo good.
I don't really want to talk about how right I was about Liverpool, but here's a list of games that'll decide the outcome of the Liverpudlian season (home teams listed first):
01 Feb: Liverpool-Chelsea
17 Feb: Manchester United-Fulham
14 Mar: Manchester United-Liverpool
21 Mar: Liverpool-Aston Villa
18 Apr: Liverpool-Arsenal
16 May: Manchester United-Arsenal
So basically Man U have all their important games at home, esp with Liverpool playing at Old Trafford in what is the KEY game. As it stands (cet. par. of course), this is Liverpool's to lose even though they're not even top of the pops. If Man U picks up even a point (which is to be assumed) from Fulham, then they're ahead, with Liverpool's only opportunity to catch up being the head-to-head. Arsenal acts as the wild card with their previous positive result against the Mancs, but Liverpool need the full three in all of their important matches, which is not boding well. The people will say that the league this season has been topsy-turvy with surprising results all over the place, but Man U are finally in form even if they're not winning by amazing margins. Liverpool are in draw form.
THE BOTTOM LINE: Arsenal should realize that they don't want Man U to win a third consecutive title and thus concede their game with Liverpool, then go all out to take down the reigning champions in the last important game of the season. Godspeed RVP.
19 January 2009
Tom Vek's "C-C (You Set the Fire in Me)"
Link2Listen
[2005]
Everything about this dumb song throbs and pulses, and the way those synth chords hum -- it's like a headache. The tin percussion swirls, and the voice emerges occasionally but not really distinguishably from the rest. Something is always maxing and probably clipping the sound. It's the same thing over and over again. It's a strange attraction, the ringing sound it leaves.
In other news, ManU-leapfrog victims Liverpool FC play Everton tomorrow in what I hear is Fernando's return to the starting XI. Hopes and dreams and hopes and wishes and an over/under of three for Matthew's sake. Everyone's always talking about how Manager Rafa doesn't know his best XI, and everyone's always right. Here's what needs to happen:
[2005]
Everything about this dumb song throbs and pulses, and the way those synth chords hum -- it's like a headache. The tin percussion swirls, and the voice emerges occasionally but not really distinguishably from the rest. Something is always maxing and probably clipping the sound. It's the same thing over and over again. It's a strange attraction, the ringing sound it leaves.
In other news, ManU-leapfrog victims Liverpool FC play Everton tomorrow in what I hear is Fernando's return to the starting XI. Hopes and dreams and hopes and wishes and an over/under of three for Matthew's sake. Everyone's always talking about how Manager Rafa doesn't know his best XI, and everyone's always right. Here's what needs to happen:
Reina
Arby-Skrtel-Carra-Fab
Masch
Kuyt-Xabi-Stevie-Riera
Fernando
Masch
Kuyt-Xabi-Stevie-Riera
Fernando
MAKE IT HAPPEN. Will have more re LFC after they break my heart some more tomorrow.
18 January 2009
My Little Airport's "Edward, Had You Ever Thought That the End of the World Would Come on 20.9.01?"
Link2Listen
[2004]
The singing is not quite there, not quite reaching all the notes it should. The bad English is worse. But there are little clicks and whirs and pop song notes that take everything awful about this song and wrap them into a neat two-minute package with a tag that has something unintelligible scribbled on it. Intuition, however, reads that the perfect pop song is perfect, and this little package of imperfect pop song keeps all the heartache intact. The song is about the end of the world neatly wrapped.
[2004]
The singing is not quite there, not quite reaching all the notes it should. The bad English is worse. But there are little clicks and whirs and pop song notes that take everything awful about this song and wrap them into a neat two-minute package with a tag that has something unintelligible scribbled on it. Intuition, however, reads that the perfect pop song is perfect, and this little package of imperfect pop song keeps all the heartache intact. The song is about the end of the world neatly wrapped.
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