Deviated Septum

YouTube - Upsilon Acrux

2007-09-03T01:30:00.000-06:00

2007-07-26T22:42:00.000-06:00

Not So Black and White

Speaking of understatements of the year, the meandering and subtly pummeling guitar solo in Rwake's "Inverted Overtures" is hardly worth mentioning to your wine-drinking friends. But it ought to earn you huge kudos among neighborhood Oprah watchers when you inappropriately blurt out, "'Voices of Omens' is the greatest doom metal offering to come out of Arkansas in coon's age!" during the next "Book Club" get-together.

Which reminds me, there are these three fat, bald, Real Estate guys who "work out" at my gym (yes, I own a gym now). Typically, they're rolling the so-called executive workout: a leisurely bike ride with a twice-as-long hot tub soak. They chat amongst themselves, in hushed E.F. Hutton-like tones, such micro-wisdoms as:

"Profundi's 'Omega Rising' cements Jens Ryden's reputation as a man among boys in the black metal genre.

"On a different note, Sinoia Caves' 'Naro Way' might be the most breathtakingly beautiful two minutes and thirty-six seconds of music I've heard in the last year. If it were any longer, it'd be too much.

"The new Kylesa and Cellador records will certainly scratch your power metal itch, but why bother when you've got 'Piece of Mind' and 'Number' in your collection. Even last year's surprisingly strong 'Matter of Life and Death' knocks socks off of those comparative johnny-come-homage offerings."

No, they really do say this stuff. I should know. I make it my daily task to eavesdrop on sweaty people.

And my broker says...

He was stopped at a red light in downtown Denver behind a cop car, and he witnessed a black man strolling up the sidewalk to cross the street in front of him:

"The guy had a nice, almost joyous, lilt to his step until he looked up and saw the cop. And when they say Randall Cunningham used to throw frozen ropes, Kev, what I saw, at that very instant, was the act of a rope flash-freezing before my eyes.

"Where that man's spine was the rope.

"The vocabulary of body language contains expression greater than words.

"It was as if the man instantly realized, upon spotting the cop, that he had something to hide. And you know what, Kev? He did. His skin color.

"But don't take my word for it, there's all sorts of studies on the shit. Google it sometime. The mind fucking reels. Even NBA refs whistle the brothers more often than white guys.

"Speaking of which, how about that ref that got caught fixing games?"

I was calling to put a couple K on AAPL. Only in the time it took my rep to relay his little anecdote, the price shot up another 8% on sick iPhone revenues and I missed my window yet again.

2007-07-16T22:24:00.000-06:00

ouchbadge69

I'm likely late to this party, but what's with the proliferation of "Intro" tracks these days? It's like indie rock just discovered 90s hip hop.

And speaking of things so last week, what about the Wholefoods CEO posting on his company's Yahoo message board? Bagging on his comp with such classic boardroom put downs like, "Yeah but, he's got tiny stores!" Presumably in his spare time. A CEO. I thought those guys were busy. I don't even have time to post fairly pat observations like this more than once or twice a week, let alone run a fucking company. Anyway...

Speaking of so last year, have we talked about my positive outlook on Kampfar's "Kvass" yet? I'm very bullish on their prospects to show significant positive returns in a negative burn-down-your-house-of-worship sort of way for the next few quarters in my ipod. While not proprietary, Kampfar's technology, specifically of the information variety, bolstered by strong human capital, very experienced and highly skilled in areas relative to industry "best practices", gives them a strategic advantage over their competition in the black metal marketplace.

Full disclosure: I like to play with matches and I'm a part-time vegan.

Check me out on the Kammerflimmer Kollektief (KMFL) board later for my insight into their long-term volume and gain prospects.

2007-07-03T16:47:00.000-06:00

A Stunning Tapestry of Justice*

[* - As my malapropism-proficient friend would likely put this, our shared travesty. The aforementioned hyphenated term, qualifier of "friend", which, in and of itself, seems like an oxymoron as in, "How could one be proficient in the use of something seemingly accidental, unless one were, say, Yogi Berra?" But therein lies the genius, if you will, that it is not because of the propensity to use malaprops creatively and seemingly unintentionally it is rather, and at least partially, a consistent happy accident. Though, once again, I digress...]

Somehow, loading up Car Bomb's "Centralia" on my ipod seems fitting right now. So what if it falls into that hyper technical mathcore trap of samey-ness? At times, it's the kind of stuff that'll make you say, "The Blood Brothers?" Though, it's only fair I finally offer a mea culpa of sorts on the Brothers. It may have taken me four years to get over my screamo-vocals hangup with them, but I think I'm finally willing to offer grudging respect. Ups to "Young Machetes" on that front then.

Speaking of wielding swords and not offering mea culpas...

Well now, he's gone and done it for you; the Lord President's gotten Scooter Libby out of the can just in time for him to make your kick ass Fourth of July barbecue tomorrow. And not a moment too-fucking-soon as someone's gotta pop for that bottle of Louis XIII you promised your Bimmer-owning neighbor. So if that just doesn't put a shit-covered cherry on top of this the most vile and utterly criminal White House in the history of the Union, then dropping bombs on Iran surely will. Keep your DishTV's tuned to the Emergency Fox News Management System for further details...

In the meantime, and if you haven't already burned your CDRs, here are a half a dozen or so perhaps subtler cuts to blend into your otherwise angst-filled Public Enemy, Rage Against the Machine and Bob Dylan-flecked Independence Day mixtapes:

Thom Yorke - Atoms for Peace
Circle Jerks - Deny Everything
Rivulets - Happy Ending
Minutemen - Theatre is the Life of You
Godspeed You Black Emperor - The Dead Flag Blues
John Vanderslice - Off the Grid
The Clash - White Riot
Slint - Good Morning, Captain

2007-06-29T11:37:00.000-06:00

But the Market Shall Police Itself

Our white, decrepit, conservative friends at the Supreme Court are at it again. And, yes I realize that, technically speaking, Clarence Uncle Tom Thomas is a black man, but just don't tip him off to that fact. (See Orlando Patterson's review of the recently-released account of the Judge's vampire-mirror pathology for further instruction.) In yesterday's ruling taking down public school integration, the usual fucking suspects effectively spun back the clock on race progress in this country by about 50 years to that glorious Leave It to Beaver time in America where homogeneity was king. Won't be long now before The Authorities will be dusting off and rolling out the old firehoses.

Hello Elvis, Buddy, and Bill! Hello "Colored" drinking fountains! And, hello, to you David Byrne's "(Nothing But) Flowers" drifting from my car stereo speakers this morning...

This was a Pizza Hut, Now it's all covered with daisies...

Okay, tell you what, Rich White Guys, I'll make you a deal on behalf of the rest of us: I'll let you turn back the clock on race, civil liberties, and keeping "fags" in the closet, if we can have our fucking livelihoods back. Gone are big box stores, incremental margin increases at the expense of poverty-level America, and cheap fucking Made in Chinese sweatshop shit that breaks within two and a half minutes of opening. Making a comeback are Mom and Pop, quality over the bottom line, some sort of minimum level of actual democratization of the marketplace and, oh yeah... daisies.

''So few,'' [Justice Stephen] Breyer said, ''have so quickly changed so much.''

And yet, even as things change, for oh so many, they still remain the same. Dalek humps into my headphones this morning:

Six hundred years, ain't a fucking thing different.

And it's beyond-words fitting a message for this dark day, so close to the Fourth of July. Quick, somebody ask that cunt Peggy Noonan if this means it's dusk in America.

While you're at it then, too, ask the record companies how well the market polices itself. As the remains of their dank business model whisper in mildewed tatters, do you think for even a second Sony might consider anything other than raising CD prices in a desperate attempt to bleed dry the six remaining record-buyers left in the world? Maybe EMI can find 8-year-old Chinese musicians to become their new "artists" and Yousendit their songs straight to the nearest Best Buy for covering in a high-gloss photo of a slutty, half-clothed, anonymous preteen clone, for your instant consumption. And when that doesn't work, whatever handful of customers remain after having died of toxic toothpaste, unsafe steel-belted radials, and tainted petfood tainted chicken, will finally get the pleasure of a $5 album and nickel-a-song downloads for life!

2007-06-28T22:35:00.000-06:00

Meanwhile A Guitar Gently Weeps

There's that thing about the cello being the instrument which most resembles the human voice. And then there are the sounds that Alison Chesley's getting out of it. And it shall be a sweet diversion from the Larry Manzanares story here in Denver, which I can't seem to shake.

Today's Denver Post cover story certainly didn't help matters.

The real fucking tragedy here, and it won't be the last one like this, is that this seemingly large-hearted man was tried and convicted in the press before he was afforded his due process. Unfortunately, Larry imposed his own sentence last week: a bullet to the head. Over a stolen laptop fucking computer.

Have the blogs really put so much pressure on the fishwrap and radiowave press corps that they have to resort to feeding-frenzy levels of hype to compete? I mean really. What, the fucking Paris Hilton story hasn't been tantalizing enough?

Again, what does this have to do with the subject at hand, and cellos at that? Seems Larry was a bit of an amateur luthier. That, and the fact that I'm utterly amazed his wife and brother could even bring themselves to speak to the same press that dragged the poor man to his death. As they say in 12-step programs all over the country, "You're a much stronger man than I".

There's also a juxtaposition that, if I believed some sort of "there is no such thing as coincidence" mental midgetry, might cause me to chuck it all and join the nearest god squad. (Luckily, however, I have intellectually and emotionally developed beyond the age of twelve, so there's no chance of that happening.) And today while, ironically, listening to "Year Zero" (I pushed a button and elected him to office...), I'm getting stimulation-overloaded with the President whining on CNN about his lost shot at an immigration reform "legacy", and mulling over Poor Larry, it occurs to me that if our Dipshit-in-Chief had even a fleck of conscience rather than a Tin Man-like abyss where a heart should be, he might have long ago done the same, out of shame. But have they, these "men" of power, no shame indeed. Could one have achieved such "great" levels of ambition and power if there existed an ounce of ignominy within? Possible, but doubtful given the evidence.

And there too lies Kurt Cobain.

2007-06-27T18:15:00.000-06:00

In a Basement Bedroom Where Sons Don't Peek

While we're speaking of black metal, someone needs to go on record about the new Blut Aus Nord. Especially if you're one of those few, like me, who aren't quite "neck deep" in one-man-band bleakness just yet. The moniker, roughly translated from the French, means: "Norse Black Flag". Specifically, "Mort" is like a black metal version of instrumental, late period Flag. Seriously. Or I'm hearing shit. Which wouldn't be anything new either.

Which reminds me, I finally saw "American Hardcore" the other night. And, well duh, of course it was hard nipples. Even if you didn't read the Steve Blush book, you'll find the DVD version just as maddeningly incomplete as the softcover. But what could you expect in a tight 90 minutes? And, so, it's safe to say that Rollins-era Flag came out smelling like a fuck-you-skins-long-haired, tatted rose. Which is all right by me, since that's the era I grew up with. In other words, I'm not ashamed to say I only discovered the Keith Morris stuff (and Chavo and Dez) later. To me, Morris was the Circle Jerks' frontman; and what a dumbass look I had on my face when I realized different.

So, and yes, it can be argued that Keith and Ron and Dez had some fine chops and as far as hardcore goes, it's tough to beat "Jealous Again" and "Nervous Breakdown". But let's face facts, Black Flag didn't hit their stride until Rollins came on board and "Damaged" was laid down. I certainly won't begrudge you if you'll claim they got winded pretty quickly thereafter and I don't mind admitting that I came at those early singles and EPs from a backward drift. I mean, shit, do I have to have been Damo-Suzuki-hair-sweat close to wax philosophic about "Ege Bamayasi"? Of course I wasn't there! But, now, were you?

As in You:

I saw a pre-Panic rehearsal in 1976, before Morris joined the band, where Ginn's cat meowed into a mic for a half an hour. Brilliant! Anything post-Reyes, Dud. F Rollins, he's a self-promoter.

Ginn's cat-fronted band > Panic > Anyone Not Rollins > Damaged

Hey You, you're losing, you're losing, you're losing, your Vitamin C...

2007-06-25T10:59:00.000-06:00

Bird Songs, Rustling Trees, Bent in a Kiln-Like Wind, Over 90 Degrees

Last week came word that the Supreme Court, again, severely limited the right of Americans to hold Wall Street accountable for anything. And while we can bemoan the fact the George Bush's Supreme Court may do horrendous things to a woman's right to choose eventually, we'd be parsing a subject which affects, what, a couple of hundred citizens a year? Don't get me wrong, I'm firmly in the choice camp on this one. But, after all, isn't this just the kind of smokescreen the Boardroom Fat Cats want us all distracted by while they continue to gobble up even the sparest of change falling through the holes in the pockets of your well-worn dungarees? Not that you could afford new ones, even if you prioritized them above 99¢ cheeseburgers, petrol for your Pacer, or Da Capo best-ofs.

And so then, isn't what this was really all about anyway? Stacking the court with pro-biz whores like Roberts and Alito means you can expect more Ledbetter v. Goodyear decisions in the future, though nobody will be marching on Washington over it. While the rest of you may split hairs over when life begins, I'll be over here in the corner pointing out exactly when it ends: the moment you get chewed up into the gears of the Capitalist machinery and become known as "consumer", "employee", and both.

In the meantime, I'll take umbrage in Trent Reznor's latest work and RTX's new "Western Xterminator". (Damn you Believer Mag for cursing my mind to pour over the Catholic allegories in the Nine Inch Nails catalog!) So what if the hessians want to bicker about what constitutes "true metal"? Herrema's got me headbangin' like she's conjuring Maiden or Triumph and what does it matter whether she's bringing it from the indie hinterlands or from on top of a Columbia Records-financed monitor at Castle Donington? Can't we all agree that in music, as in art, the end justifies the means? (Even if the equation rarely holds true elsewhere. See: aforementioned business discussion.)

So it's currently and quite nearly impossible to escape All Jack, All the Time while Mr. White does his "Icky Thump" stump. But I'd like to go on record as stating, though I've got nothing against the piano, I'm glad Jack's got his axe back. Now, if you don't mind, I'll take a pass and let others conjure comparisons to Zeppelin-esque past triumphs such as "De Stijl" and "Elephant".

And if we're going to be splitting hairs, then, why not argue all day long about something like "Ride the Lightning" v. "Master"? Either way, there's no sense to it, since you'll both be right and, besides, the point is moot what with cost of memory so low these days.

2007-06-21T16:28:00.000-06:00

15 Minutes A Day. And It Shows.

[ed. Insert riff here about needing another creative outlet, releasing the din that hums between the ears, having something to say, and so we're taking another stab at it, etc.]

So I'm reading this joint ("The Prison Poets of Guantanamo Find a Publisher") in the WSJ yesterday (just the "Journal", ya know) and it's a nice enough story, adding more fuel to that =what the fuck fascist regime do we live under= V8 that still howls, but here's the part that turns the crankshaft at higher rpms:

"While a few detainees at Guantanamo Bay have made efforts to author what they claim to be poetry, given the nature of their writings they have seemingly not done so for the sake of art," says Cmdr. J.D. Gordon, a Defense Department spokesman.

What? "No comment" would've been too fucking classy for the DoD? Likely. What a fucking prick. Even if -- and, yes, some of the examples cited in the column won't make you forget Yeats any time soon -- the poetry sucks, what task is served by a Defense spokesman "lowering" himself to the level of our "enemy combatants"? The comment is illustrative of the type of smug fratboy pettiness emanating from our nation's capital like someone left the water in the bong all summer break and now it's been kicked over and drips down into the pages of the Washington Post and studios of CNN.

But what does this have to do with music? Well, Commander Fuckstick's attempt at crit aside, some of the poetry samples therein speak of the songs of birds. Which, serendipitously, I had just been thinking of a day earlier thanks to musicthing's nod to Captain Beefheart's 10 Commandments for Guitarists:

1. LISTEN TO THE BIRDS That's where all the music comes from. Birds know everything about how it should sound and where that sound should come from. And watch hummingbirds. They fly really fast, but a lot of times they aren't going anywhere.

Which dovetails (cough) nicely back to music, "the Journal", Guantanamo, thick-necked dimbulb Bushies, and fascism. I think the Capt. has a point. Lately, [ed. Don't go into protracted melancholia about taking time to smell flowers, listen to birds, bullshit, nobody will want to hear it] I've been listening to a lot of black metal and it seems if one were to pull out their Encyclopeadia Metallum, they'd probably find that nature plays a heavy role in the thing. Or maybe I just stole that from Stosuy. Either way, it's true; even if it is hard to describe to your indie pop pals.

Wolves in the Throne Room's "Diadem of 12 Stars" may not have any birds chirping on it (then again, it may -- who am I to instruct what to take away from your experience?), but it puts me squarely in and of one with nature and all that [ed. Please be careful not to veer too far down hippie path here]. To say that it sounds exactly like standing in a clearing, subfreezing, grey and fogged in, with snow falling all around you would be to invoke Agalloch's "Ashes Against the Grain", actually, but wouldn't necessarily be far off. Did I mention they're from the Pacific Northwest? (Yeah, Agalloch too.)

There's that. And there's what Joe Baiza's been up to; according to the Beefheart blog (linked on musicthing), tossing out a rendition of "Lick My Decals Off, Baby" in Puttanesca (myspace link complete with vid).

Now back to what the birds are trying to tell me...

2007-06-18T13:35:00.001-06:00

Snippets of new Radiohead on Youtube
So, yeah.

2006-10-13T21:59:00.000-06:00

Hell's Eulogy

Read Richard Hell's fine op ed on CBGB's end of days. I'm still grappling with the piece's conclusion regarding the seminal club's permanent exhibition in Vegas. But who am I to to wave my finger and shout blasphemy? I'm going to defer to Mr. Hell, as I wasn't there then, and bein's how I'm couchbound on a Friday night in Denver I clearly never will be.

CBGB’s was like a big playhouse, site of conspiracies, orgies, delirium, refuge, boredom, meanness, jealousy, kindness, but most of all youth. Things felt and done the first time are more vivid. CBGB’s is where many things were felt with that vividness. That feeling is the real identity of the club, to me. And it’s horrible, or at least seriously sad, to lose it. But then, apparently, we aren’t really going to lose it.

CBGB’s is going to be dismantled and reconstructed as an exhibit in Las Vegas, like Elvis. I like that. A lot. I really hope it happens as intended.

And at this moment, as I try to find a conclusion to this piece, the well used refrain from "Blitzkrieg Bop" trax the stats at the end of tonight's Mets/Cardinals game. There's either a joke or seeds of a rant in there somewhere...

2006-10-03T22:19:00.000-06:00

"It's quite gratifying to realize you were smarter than all the people who were telling you you were gonna fail."

Albini talks new Shellac, T&G, Electrical Audio, and recording the new Stooges record...

One rumor that's been following the project is that Jack White will play on the disc or produce it, but Albini has heard nothing either way. "I really have no idea. . . . There may be a point where an Edwardian carriage pulls up in front of the studio and Jack White and his footmen step out," he says. "By the way, I've never used the word 'footmen' in conversation before."

Chicago Reader interview

2006-08-21T22:37:00.000-06:00

Speaking of troubling, I just read about this...

Now the Music Industry Wants Guitarists to Stop Sharing

Where the hell am I going to go for my unreliable -- and unmastered -- guitar tabs? No, seriously, this blows.

2006-08-21T22:31:00.000-06:00

WWJD

In these troubling theocratic times (e.g.) I take comfort in the words of the Kennedys:

All religions make me wanna throw up / All religions make me sick / All religions make me wanna throw up / All religions suck / They all claim that they have the truth / They’ll set you free / Just give ‘em money and they’ll set you free / Free for a fee / They claim that they have “the Answer” / When they don’t even know the Question / They’re just a bunch of liars / They just want your money / They just want your consciousness / (Chorus) / All religions suck / All religions make me wanna throw up / All religions suck / All religions make me wanna BLEAH / They really make me sick / They really make me sick / They really make me sick / They really make me sick / They really make me sick / They really make me ILL

2006-08-10T13:44:00.000-06:00

Genealogy of Pop and Rock Music

Oh I totally want this.
Be sure to check out the other posters too. They're amazing.

Johnny Marr joins Modest Mouse

2006-08-08T14:40:00.000-06:00

Okay, cool. How'd I miss this last week?

http://pitchforkmedia.com...

Noxagt - Noxagt (2006)

2006-08-08T14:27:00.000-06:00

A little bit like a lyricless, doomed up Jesus Lizard. Or, how about that rhythm section...

(aka Where Have all the Violas Gone?)

2006-07-22T14:29:00.000-06:00

volcano! "Beautiful Seizure" is pretty much the hottest thing going right now. (more later...)

myspace
website
radio sess

2006-07-22T01:10:00.000-06:00

Fuck yeah! \m/

Iron Maiden frontman, Bruce Dickinson, airlifts hundreds of countrymen to safety

2006-07-18T23:14:00.000-06:00

Where have all the good times gone? The Graying of the Record Store

The answer is known. Can't say I don't already miss the local shop, though. Reminds me of my college days in Champaign-Urbana, getting vibed by Rick Sims of the Didjits, who clerked at the Record Swap in Champaign, for what he perceived to be my lame music purchases. It was as subtle as an eye-roll, but we've surely all been there. It just hurt that much more coming from the local rock god.

(P.S. This should lead into a segue of the Touch & Go Recs anniversary bash...)

2006-07-18T16:14:00.000-06:00

There's a very engaging interview with Greg Dulli in this week's Onion.

2006-07-11T23:20:00.000-06:00

A few new tracks worth listening to/talking about:

Mastodon, "Crystal Skull" (windows media) - also streaming here - To say the new album "Blood Mountain" sounds very promising based on this cut, is to be understated.

Squarepusher (streaming on the Warp homepage) - This has been mentioned elsewhere as more of a "Go Plastic" drum-n-bass single (i.e. "My Red Hot Car") than an "Ultravisitor" synthesis offering. So, I can't argue with it. New lp's called "Hello Everything".

Mars Volta, "Viscera Eyes" - Don't like the wank? Tough. The new lp's called "Amputechture" and the Frusch adds his chops to the mix.

(via: everywhere)

2006-07-11T21:20:00.000-06:00

The Science of Sleep

Oh man this looks kind of awesome. Pretentiously artsy? Possibly. Tops "Eternal Sunshine"? Dunno, could. Similarily heartbreaking and universally relative? Bloody likely. Shit, then slather something like "You Heart Is an Empty Room" over the top - possibly the most redeeming track of the last Death Cab - and I'm afraid I'm kinda melty and well, sold.

2006-07-11T14:20:00.000-06:00

My buddy Tim sent me this amusing take on "Sweet Child O' Mine" in an e-mail. It's currently at McSweeney's. Scroll down until you see: Notes on "Sweet Child O' Mine,"as Delivered to Axl Rose by His Editor.

The funniest thing I've read in weeks...

Oh my god there's more.

2006-07-08T23:40:00.000-06:00

If I were really clever, I would've clipped it, scanned it, and posted it here. 'Cuz you'll never believe me now...

The day or two after the Tom Petty-Pearl Jam gig, the Denver Post ran a review in the print version (would've been last Sunday), accompanied by a picture of Eddie Vedder with a capiton that began:

"Grunge legend, Eddie Vedder..."

Thank you. I quit.

It seems, and but of course, this qualifier is generally used in reference to the late Mr. Cobain. But please don't forget to add Jack Endino (there credited as progenitor of said sound), Kim Thayil, and the whole band Tad to the list.