1. The name of an artist, band, song, or related item is displayed in the title of the post.

2. There is a song, or video from said artist contained within the body of the post.

3. Listed below are days when one can leave their home and see said artist, band, dj, etc. in real life, the flesh, person.

4. Snarky comment, dated references, Chuck Klosterman. (Optional.)

David Mead – Rainy Weather Friend

Download audio file (davidmead_rainyweatherfriend)

David Mead Tour Dates:
9-03 Chicago, IL – SCHUBA’S
9-04 Indianapolis, IN – SPIN

9-05 Nashville, TN – THE BASEMENT
9-08 Vienna, VA – JAMMIN’ JAVA
9-09 New York, NY – ROCKWOOD MUSIC HALL
9-10 Easton, MD – TBD
9-11 Newton Square, PA – BURLAP N’ BEAN

9-16 Columbia, SC – THE WHITE MULE
9-17 Decatur, GA – EDDIE’S ATTIC

9-18 Charlotte, NC – THE EVENING MUSE
9-26 Adrian, MI – FLYING OTTER VINEYARDS
9-27 Saginaw, MI – WHITE’S BAR
9-28 Grand Rapids, MI – ONE TRICK PONY

* * *

This is not a music blog post. This is how you can tell:

1. This is Tatanka.

Arf! Aww, there. Hue are tin heathen
how loud be thine aim?
Dyking dumb cum
thigh willow bedung
honor the ass I tease uneven
Gay fussy stay hour deliberate
In devour gaff though suit rest bass again stuff
Andale! to snot intuit empty shun
Bah! toad liver is for Melville
Fourth anus thickened, demand tip our hand a glow reefer ether in defer.
All men.

* * *

(The w:Sermon On the Mount by w:Carl Heinrich Bloch, Danish painter, d. 1890.)

* * *

HIMANSHU RAPS:

Reading:

I mostly read in intervals of 140 characters at a time. Though right now I’m reading In Hanuman’s Hands by Cheeni Rao. It’s about an Indian kid from Chicago that goes to college on some liberal arts shit and then does hella drugs and gets caught up in pitching weight and becomes a drug addict. It’s kind of on some “Junky”-type tip but also the Ramayana. Growing up, Hanuman was one of my favorite gods too. We have favorites. Did you know Barack Obama carries a small Hanuman emblem in his pocket for good luck because the monkey-god is very popular in South East Asia and dude’s dad would tell him stories about Hanuman as a child?

Listening:
I haven’t had a computer for hell of long but instead I copped this cheap record player that has an AM/FM joint on it and got some all-time favorite records like KMD, Paul’s Boutique, Stone Roses, Marquee Moon and a couple of other joints. A few weeks back I got a laptop and started getting other music again. I really like Neon Indian. Though even now, more than anything I listen to Hot 97 on the radio here in NY.

Watching:
I watch everything on tv, good and bad, and enjoy it very much.

KOOL AD:

Reading:

Maribel Alvarez: Food, Poetry, and Borderlands Materiality: Walter Benjamin at the taquería

When we were asked by Death and Taxes magazine why we rap about food all of the time, I gave this long ass explanation that got cut from the article for space:

In Maribel Alvarez’s essay “Food, Poetry and Borderlands Materiality: Walter Benjamin at the Taqueria” she refers to cultural critic Jennifer Gonzalez’s suggestion of the significance of “objects in relationship to Chicano/a identities, and vice versa.”  Alvarez sums up Gonzalez’s description of the relationship as “a fraught enterprise of tactical considerations that ‘tethers’ certain acts of ‘persuasion,’ which are summoned and performed through very concrete material and artifactual arrangements, i.e. tangible representations such as the body, the house, the car, the hairdo, the bedroom altar, the kitchen, and the front yard.”  She goes on to assert that “availing themselves of the “props” of Chicano everyday material culture (i.e. hair gel, candles, molcajetes, shock absorbers, or baby blankets), these performances of the self alternatively offer or deny opportunities to enact identities and subjectivities in public settings and private spaces.”  She likens this idea to what German theologist Walter Benjamin called “anthropological materialism,” claiming a vast capacity of significance in “the realm of the routine and mundane,” and in fact suggesting that insights into the mechanics and poetics of emancipation and oppression are present in the smallest details of what’s commonly called “everyday life.”  This is like, duh. Lauryn Hill once said, “Everything Is Everything.”  That album sold over 10 million.  That’s word.  Walter Benjamin also said this of food: “It is only in company that eating is done justice; food must be divided and distributed if it is to be well received.”  So yeah, aesthetic pleasure is social and social ritual is about compassion and compassion is about survival.  Food and music are examples of this.

Watching:

This commercial is hella funny.

Listening:

DJ Nate A Trak Genious

When I heard this track: IMA DOG MIX it blew my shit off.  I think it’s the best shit I’ve heard in years.  Also I like how dude spells his name.

The head lawyer for the law firm that is managing the RIAA’s file-sharing suits recently revealed some numbers around the success of their lawsuits.  Turns out, they have been roughly 18,000 letters sent, 11,000 of which were John Doe letters sent via the ISP (the kind I received).  It appears that everyone settled these cases for between $3,000 and $5,000 except for Jammie Thomas.  My potential penalty was upwards around $3.1M so I figured settling was a better route.  Some quick math shows that they made around $72M off these lawsuits; I have no idea if that recoups any lost revenues they claim to have.

Pandora Lives!

Pandora reached a deal with the major music labels that I see as a win-win-win.  Music Industry wins because they open up a despearately needed new revenue stream that never existed; Pandora wins because they remain in existence and expect to produce revenue of up to $40M; Consumers win because we get sweet geeky algorithmic internet radio for free.  The agreement is significant as it legitimizes the pandora/last.fm business model which will hopefully lead to more funding into these types of services in the future.  The downside is that a poorly executed “internet-radio/social networking” will probably come out by the end of the year.  I will join this network, be solicited for sex, be disappointed when there is xXLolitaWinehouseXx stops responding to my messages and then I will cry myself to sleep listening to Love is a Battlefield on loop.

The world’s oldest adolescent dies; kind of a jerk

Michael Jackson died.  He didn’t leave Paul McCartney- the most important pop-star alive – the rights to his own songs.

* * *

Cass McCombs – You Saved My Life. Catacombs; 2009. Buy.

Here:

The criteria to decide whether or not to buy an album on vinyl goes as follows:

I. Is the album art appealing?
II. Is the album in question an album or merely a collection of songs?
III. Do you own a record player?
IV. Can you see yourself forcing your children to listen to the album?
V. Is it Belle and Sebastian?

If you answered “Yes” to more than three of these then you should buy the vinyl.

PS Somehow Sir Richard Bishop’s “The Freak of Araby” album satisfied all of the criteria.

Reply to: pers-5usez-**********@craigslist.org

Date: 2009-07-06, 5:14PM EDT

* * *

Hey there, I was in Allston this weekend (Saturday maybe) and you were vomiting up what looked like Vermicelli outside of Wünderbar… you were so HOT.

Your friends were also HOT. Pretty much, you’re HOT.

If you’ve brushed your teeth and mouthwash-ed, hit me back, yo. (I’m white.)

I really hope you get this, and I’m not desperate or anything, but I think you may have looked at me, and we had a moment.

(Also, I totally think you’re HOT.)

* * *

* Location: Allston

* it’s NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: 1256486204

Animal Collective – College.

* * *

ps. first track from the Almighty Defenders, Bow Down and Die. a bit drastic seeing as how we’ve all got three years until 2012.

pps. be warned, there is an ad at the end disguised (well, not really) behind the cloak of a gentle British gal’s voice. there are no free lunchezz.

Almighty Defenders – Bow Down and Die [vice]

The following topics were elaborated upon at the following locations on the 4th of July; which, I think is apt: Boylston x Arlington (in front of a Mr. Frosty’s ice cream truck), the Boston Commons, the Mass Ave bridge, a living room in Central Square, Charlie’s Kitchen, a living room in Somerville, Mass Ave in front of the Middle East while biking at a moderate speed.

Middle East politics, specifically, a two state solution, the legitimacy of Hezbollah (or lack thereof), the legitimacy (or lack thereof) of Hamas and how they’re squandering opportunity in their handling of Gaza, the legitimacy (or lack thereof) of Israel and how they’re squandering opportunity in their handling of Gaza, how aid is more effective than sanctions.

Van Gogh, specifically, how to properly pronounce “Gogh” and the likelihood of being laughed at by the Dutch when pronounced “Gogh” (very likely, almost assured).

Urbanism, specifically, how nature is irrelevant, moving at great speeds, adrenaline as a drug of choice, cyberpunk and how Tokyo has lots its appeal, biking as the only suitable means to access, embrace and capture a city.

Where to spend charity dollars, specifically, Anarchist Black Cross, Unicef, Oxfam, Food Not Bombs or Food Banks and how one must decide on a charity based, in some regards, simply on the amount of money given to said charity, Papercut.

Architecture, specifically, music and writing about it (see: this or any other article on the site you are currently browsing).

Food, specifically, how good are the waffle fries at Charlie’s Kitchen? Awesome right? I know, totally great.

Food, specifically, the cheapest foods to live on for an extended period of time (rice and beans), how Dan does not like these foods (rice and beans), how I guess Dan is shit of luck then, fasts, cleansing diets, the type of foods Ben eats and how that affects his overall mood, bowels, and essence, pizza insofar as you can buy it off people on the street after 4th of July fireworks for $0.50 a slice, Anthony Bourdain, Harry’s and the Bloody Mary.

Sexuality, specifically, sexuality and post modernism, pedophilia as a reflection on our current social constructs, its biological relevance, the case of the botched circumcision followed by sex change, a pained life and eventual suicide (read: urban legend), the immense education of exotic dancers outside the FSU campus, the role of the John, objectification and how working the lunch shift must be a bummer.

Ilyn’s diary, specifically, why can’t we read it? Please? Come on…Fine, whatever.

Blinders, specifically, joining the military and following orders, joining the church and following orders, and how no one can make us follow any orders because we are young and will sit in the park for as long as we want and we will drink Joose in public and we will break traffic laws and we will shout at drivers who do not care for our breaking of traffic laws and we will pee off the side of the Mass Ave bridge and we will jump and we will make machine gun noises and we will stack bikes and we will sit on the side walk and we will be as loud as we want and and we will be.

Salami, Roast Beef, Turkey, Ham, Swiss, Mayo, Mustard, Lettuce, Onion, Tomato, Etc., Etc.

I stopped to eat dinner tonight at a sandwich shop in the mall – one of my least favorite places, probably in the world, and especially as a place to eat dinner alone.  I still have no idea what inspired me to do this.  Regardless, I was quietly reading, when the only other person in the restaurant (a female) started loudly shouting obscenities into her cellular telephone.  “I am so fucking sick of this shit…I really am, I am not kidding this time…”  At one point she even threatened to throw her phone on the ground.  I found this to be a particularly odd threat, and one only disadvantageous to herself, not to the person on the other end.  I thought of suggesting to her that simply hanging up would have the same effect and would keep her phone in tact, but thought it better not to interrupt.  I also desperately tried not to listen to, or show my interest in, her conversation, but it was too hard not to – I was eating by myself, in the mall, and her conversation was far more interesting than what I was reading.

I could not help but wonder what was making her so mad…and then all my questions were answered.  “I swear this makes me so fucking angry…you don’t even understand…I asked the waitress last night how many calories were in my meal and she said 600…I am not fucking lying…and she said Amy’s pasta, which Amy ordered as her meal for dinner, had 500, but mine had less carbs in it.” She continued, as her voice grew increasingly louder, and shouted, “And you don’t even fucking understand…yesterday Sarah asked me if I wanted a peanut butter cup, and I took it, and I threw it on the ground, and stepped on it…I’m telling the fucking truth…and what is that, like, 40 calories, 43 calories…and Vicky had a peanut butter cup, and Samantha had a peanut butter cup, and Michelle had a peanut butter cup and a half, and Laura had two peanut butter cups…”  Her list of who ate one, two, or god forbid, even three, peanut butter cups continued for some time, interrupted only by “I am not fucking lying,” and (of course) “I am so fucking sick of this shit.” I was utterly amazed.  I wanted to know desperately who she was talking to, why she knew and remembered exactly how many peanut butter cups eighteen different females had consumed yesterday, why this was making her so angry, and why the person on the end of the line cared…at all.  What perplexed me the most was why she took the offered peanut butter cup in the first place – why didn’t she just say “no thank you,” or “no fucking thank you” for that matter, instead of throwing it on the ground and stomping on it.  I had no idea what she achieved by doing that, and why she was retelling that story later.

Even more interesting, in light of everything, was the sandwich she was eating while she had this conversation. She ordered her sandwich immediately after me (which occurred prior to this conversation of course), and ordered what the sandwich shop calls “The Wreck.” This is a salami, roast beef, turkey, ham, and swiss cheese sandwich, and to which she added mayonnaise, oil, and hot peppers. I know a peanut butter cup has a whole 43 calories (at least I do now after overhearing this enlightening conversation), and I am fairly certain “The Wreck” has way more than 43 calories.  I waited with excitement throughout my entire dinner, hoping she would throw “The Wreck” on the floor of the mall and stomp on it, multiple times (as it is also considerably larger than a peanut butter cup), but it never happened.  Instead she ate all of it, while shouting at the person on the other end of the telephone, and continuing to list everything everyone she knew ate over the past twenty-four hours…while cursing.  I left the mall and ate three peanut butter cups, but unfortunately had no one to tell, let alone yell at about it.

(Photo: kevincrumbs)