Sound Design and Assembly

It's Friday: Let's Play a Game!

2012-01-27T13:05:00.000-06:00

Just because I said I wasn't going to post every day doesn't mean that I can't post whenever the hell I want. Call it a force of habit.
So, here, today, we're going to play a game. You see two videos here, one on the left and one on the right. You can watch only one.
Do you pick the one on the left to watch a guy play the guitar like a piano? Masterfully and skillfully handling a piece of classical music in such a manner as to inspire you for the rest of the day?
Or do you pick the one on the right and watch a crackhead do a back flip off a house?
Choose and perish.

This is our two dozen hundredth post.

2012-01-26T13:07:00.001-06:00

Thank fuck.
I've been waiting for this.
You see, for a while, and I know it shows, I've been on a teeter-totter between writer's block and simply having nothing to talk about. They're kind of the same thing, yeah, but whatever. And then I come here every day - just check the archives - and I fake it for a little while by posting a YouTube video and a dick joke. Basically, I've been ripping you off.
And I can make excuses, my little illiterati, about how I'm in the office, at work, where I have other things to do, but we all know that I don't have a whole lot to do; I have one of the few jobs out there where I'm more or less paid to wait for something to happen and in the meantime, I get to watch Hulu, do my laundry, and make the occasional fancy brunch.
And for all this time on my hands, I've had to sacrifice seclusion; I don't get too many chances to record and so the idea of having a music blog with a proposed focus on DIY home recording... well, it's not two thousand nine or ten, anymore. I don't have roommates who couldn't give a shit less about the noise; I don't have a big, open, ambient space with structural anomalies; and I'm a thirty one year old man, meaning getting fucked up and hiding in a basement for days on end, chain smoking and playing a mix over and over and over again isn't cute anymore.
What's also become really depressing is that the weekly musicians' ads are the most popular feature on this blog; something they weren't intended to be. For some reason, people like these. And they like them a lot more than anything else that goes on here. But, hey, it's musically related and it is shenanigans calling. Technically, I get a pass, though I do wish this blog was noted more for the intended focus on DIY home recording. But I accept that that's not going to happen when I don't record as often as I used to.
And we've had our fun with other features. NSFWednesday, the Friday Piss Offs, the Mail Order Bride Fund Raiser, the Obligatory Tuesdays, the ten-part drum programming tutorial, the Incident Reports, the podcast that I swore was going to come back but never did, the record reviews, blah blah blah. But people don't come here for those, they come here for the musicians' ads. C'est la vie.
And if you're not a daily reader, if you come here only on Mondays, you probably don't know that the other six days out of the week are filled with all kinds of stupid shit. There are pictures of my cooking, there are pictures from my sketch book, I have sex and then complain about it, I have sex and express disbelief that I did, I regularly demonstrate that, yes, I've been to YouTube and I know how to embed a video, I make fun of my dad, all the other stuff that I do when I'm not avidly beating the shit out of ads.
But here's the thing: I'm out of steam.
Really. That's all there is to it: I'm out of steam.
Sound Design and Assembly has been online since 2007 and it's been updated daily since 2009. Daily. Once per day at minimum and that's usually when I'm at work. Hell, I got away with five hundred fifty nine posts last year and then eight hundred twenty eight posts the year before that. That's a lot. There are far more popular blogs whose authors post maybe once or twice per month. (To be fair, that's usually because they post far larger, longer pieces that take time to research, draft, and edit whereas I prefer to take the ready, fire, aim approach.) There are tumblrs out there that have hundreds even thousands of followers yet they don't come up with anything original, just a lot of copy & paste work seven or eight times a day. (Sure, I'm bitter. I'm also honest enough to admit that probably half of my posts lately have been getting a little tumblrific.) The idea of blogging every day - we're talking a new idea, a new topic, and weighing in at a thousand to fifteen hundred words - was one that has proven unsustainable. Sure, I did it for the last three years out of the five this blog has been up and active, and some folks might say (♩ That I'm no good... ♩) that even sustaining a blog for that long is notable, even if it is a terrific waste of time. But it hasn't worked. I just put on a lot of mileage in a short amount of time.
In essence, I've rolled over the odometer.
I don't know how else to put it: I'm out of ideas. That's all there is to it.
Not only am I out of ideas, I rarely go out and get them.
I finally have a bar I like so I don't go out carousing at other locales unless I need to, so there are no adventures there.
I'm not "new in town" anymore so I don't get weirded out by things much, so there are no adventures there.
There's rarely a show that I'm interested in seeing - or even paying money for just to get in and socialize - so there are no adventures there.
And, yeah, I am home most nights. Hey, it's cheaper to eat and drink there. This is, of course, at the expense of going out and doing something but, hey, I've had my seven-nights-per-week-at-the-bar phase. I've done Taco Bell one night, Papa John's the next, Taco Bell the night after that, and then Burger King for a "change of pace". (And just looking at that last sentence is positively disgusting to me. Jesus, forget the drinking, drugging, and chain smoking sprees, it was my dietary choices that should have killed me.) So, now, I make a pork chop or a chicken breast, fix a salad along the side, pour a glass of scotch, watch the news, and putz about the house until it's time for bed. It's not the most exciting life but, hey, it's healthier on both the body and wallet. And being home all the time generally means I'm free all the time. Like last night, for example. A young lady called me up, wanted to meet up. So we grabbed a coffee, came back here, went over to her place. We got to talk, got to hang out. And since I don't do jack shit, I'm free to meet her again on Sunday night.
See? I'm not completely boring. Some of the stories I tell you... You know I still can get myself in a fair amount of trouble when I put my mind to it.
But back to the point, yes yes yes. Out of ideas, posting daily, that old thing.
I can't keep going -
OK, before you throw yourselves out the window, mon petit illiterati, let me finish.
I can't keep going at this rate.
So, while I'm not quitting entirely, I am quitting posting daily.
What does this mean? Well, for me it means that I'm not going to post unless I get an idea or have something worthwhile to talk about. If that means I go a week between posts, then I go a week between posts. If that means I post every two weeks, once a month? So be it. It's time to start focusing on quality rather than quantity.
For you, this probably means the collapse of your entire goddamned universe so allow me to assuage that dread by telling you that musicians' ads will still come out every Monday. They're a gold mine after all and the only reason the majority of you even show up in the first goddamned place. Even if you are a fair weather illiterati, you're still my illiterati, and I could never betray you.
OK, well maybe one or two of you. And I think that there's, like, two or three of you that I would just love to do things... that... the most... and then the thing... and... just... UGH! You'd have to burn your sheets afterward is what I'm saying. As long as, you know, we're saying.
So there it is. That's how it's going to be. And if you don't like it? Tough shit. It's like this: There are two thousand three hundred ninety nine other posts here. Hell, the very first post is just one giant collection of all of my old posts from when this started as a MySpace blog, so I think that puts this old clunker of a blog up to something like twenty five hundred posts. So there's plenty of stuff to read while you wait for me (or any of the other contributing authors) to put up something new.
There it is. That's the big announcement. That's what I've been peppering the posts with cryptic little clues about for about three months, maybe longer, now. So, why don't you all go back outside while it's sunny and I'll see you when I see you.

Cool invention alert!

2012-01-25T16:42:00.000-06:00

My guy, Randall, posted a link to a story about a turntable that reads tree rings on his Facebook wall. Here's the video that accompanies that story.

Is it safe? No, it's Not Safe For Wednesday.

2012-01-25T12:57:00.000-06:00

It's been a long while since we enjoyed NSFWednesday, mon petit illiterati. And this one is...
OK, let's say that you Google Sarah Silverman. Let's say that this somehow brings you to an anti-Semitic porno site.
No.
You read that right.
You see, yesterday, I don't know how it happened, I forgot how it happened because I spent the majority of my late morning / early afternoon intrigued and perplexed by the fact that there was an anti-Semitic porno site. Here was a large cache of beautiful naked women (of which I'm a fan) who all happen to be Jewish (I never knew so many Jewish women were in porn - the religious background of women rarely is a concern when I watch porn) and they're being categorized / filed by a really disgusting anti-Semite and an avid reader who keeps leaving remarks about post-revolution brothels. There's also a bevy of comments from a Jewish woman who... I'll let her explain it:

Calmly step back from your computer. Close your eyes. Take a deep breath, inhaling through the nose for four beats and exhaling through the mouth for five. Open your eyes, stare your cat straight in the eye, and say it loud, say it proud: WHISKEY. TANGO. FOXTROT.

And she's not the only Jewess (Can I say Jewess? Is that - Is that, you know, kosher?) who's into it. There are women - plural, multiple - who claim they are Jewish and submit their photos to this site. They do. They really do.
I mean, it's really fucked up. It's like an entirely different universe.
So here I am, sucked into this vortex of - I don't even know what it is I'm in - looking at naked women, just scads, oodles of naked women and, like I said, I simply adore naked women, almost to a fault - well, fuck, let's face it: to a fault. That fault being that I'm not leaving the anti-Semitic porn site. Am I offended and grossed out by the commentary that accompanies the pictures of naked women? Yes. Am I leaving because of that? No. Why? Because there's just too damned many naked women.
Also? Some of these are celebrities and occasionally one pops up that I didn't know was Jewish and I find myself thinking, Oh, I didn't know they were Jewish. It's not like a thing for me, I don't have to know they're Jewish. It's like when you find out somebody's Canadian.
OK, so the point at hand: Naked women. Some of which are older than my grandmothers right now. We're talking 1950s, 60s pin ups and 70s porn starlets. Naked. Naked, the lot of them. And, yes, they are Jewish. And, yes, they are being presented by and commented on by a paranoid anti-Semitic conspiracy theorist with the occasional egging on from an even bigger anti-Semite and a Jewish woman who on a good day is troublingly conflicted and on less than good days... Well, I'll let Larry David say it because I don't know if I'm allowed to, you know, being a goy and all.

It's just one big universe of fucked up at that site and such is the spectacle that I cannot look away... because there're naked women. We've been over that. Sure, there's ample amounts of drama and repulsion to be had if you read the site but... OK. There's no excuse. It's because there are naked women. That's why I stayed there.
And that's kind of the point I'm about to get to.
The guy misidentifies perhaps the most popular internet model out there right now: Bryci.

Remember Bryci?

So, here's what we have: We have Bryci. All you have to do is Google Bryci with the safe search turned off. You won't get anything but Bryci as your search results. Believe me, I have a tab open right now, all it is is the Google Image search results for "Bryci". Guess who's there. Nobody except Bryci. That's it. It's like typing "Iggy" or "Lemmy" into Google: You have dig into the recesses, the bowels of Google's servers before you find somebody who isn't Iggy or Lemmy come back as a search result, and that shit might take you a few weeks.
So, we've established how popular Bryci is. We should also mention that she's Canadian (She's Canadian?), she's twenty something, Bryci is her real name (that link is safe for work), her breasts are admittedly fake (according to an interview I read a long while back), she looks like this...

... and her website alone is worth this...

It actually makes me feel a little bit better about my 2011 earnings when I realize I made more than that last year.

So, it's probably safe to say that Bryci is not a nineteen year old, natural breasted escort currently residing in Florida under the name Kyla Saperstein. Though it's easy to see how the anti-Semite got confused. After all, he's using Backpage, the neglected step-sibling of Craigslist.

Click to enlarge.

You can click to enlarge that one, too.

So, what the anti-Semite takes away from this is that she's nineteen and her name is Kyla. How he arrived at her last name being Saperstein is beyond me. His assessment that those tits are natural? Shows you how much he knows. (And if you read the comments section at his site, you'll also see how much he'll defend what he knows.) And then he just decides she's a Jew with his weird classification system. Seriously. He has a classification system. You know like how you have a classification system for your dog? Black lab versus chocolate lab or Jack Russel terrier versus Boston terrier? Yeah, kind of like that but with people. And he's supposed to be some sort of expert at this, so he takes one look at Bryci (whom he thinks is Kyla Saperstein), sizes her up, and claims she is "somewhere in the gray area between types I and II" while displaying "Khazar features". I mean, this is the shit he says; imagine the shit he thinks about.
But, more importantly, imagine the amount of time this guy is online. Imagine the amount of research he has to put into his antiquated, eugenics-based human classification system. Imagine the amount of time he has to spend hunting down post-WWII and post-Korean war era titty photos of Jewish women and then not get distracted by all the titties all the time. (Even I'm having a bit of trouble focusing.) He even cops to spending a fair amount of time at Boobpedia (yes, an encyclopedia of boobs and the women attached to them). This isn't his only website, either. He's got at least one other one I've seen that's just chock full of WWII conspiracy theories and imagined truths (Speaking of truths, he doesn't deny the Holocaust happened but, to hear him talk about it, it was just a thing.), so he has to spend ample amounts of time online to research that stuff. You know, to find the research material that he agrees with, anyhow. So he's an internet presence. He's online. How does he not know who the fuck Bryci is?
And so yesterday, I thought about - yes, I seriously thought about posting a comment to the effect that that's Bryci. In Canada. Not Kyla in Florida. But then I realized, Wait. This guy's site is anti-Semitic. Why would I want to post anything helpful and informative to his site? Why?
But it bugs me. It bugs me that there's such a glaring, egregious, and easily-corrected error out there. And then on the other hand, yeah. An anti-Semite was wrong. So that's, like, what? Tuesday?*
So I'm letting it go, moving on, getting on with other things. There are better things to do than correct bigots. Like looking at their porn stashes.**

* It was, actually.
** Not to be confused with the porn-stache.

Bizarre (not really) Coincidence of the Day

2012-01-24T10:36:00.001-06:00

OK, so these two things really aren't all that similar but as I was leaving the liquor store the other day, I spotted the cover of this week's City Pages and thought, That looks awfully like Staring at the Sea. I don't know, maybe the photographer, Jana Freiband, had that record on sometime before the shoot and was subliminally influenced or something. I don't know, side-by-side, these really don't look all that alike but I didn't have anything else today, so I'm calling it.

Don't take this to mean that I like Strats, now.

2012-01-23T22:01:00.002-06:00

Y'all probably know I love the movie Stranger than Fiction (the Will Ferrel / Maggie Gyllenhall one). This is probably one of the finer movie scenes I've seen regarding guitars, even if I don't like Strats.

Yeah, that cover's not going to work.

2012-01-23T15:03:00.000-06:00

Adele, on the Jonathon Ross show, is exposed to some screamo band's cover of her song, "Rolling in the Deep". After a few giggles, you can tell that she's nonplussed.

Your weekly musicians' ads.

2012-01-23T13:42:00.003-06:00

I'm not going to lie, I feel iffy about this week's batch.

the whole schmear (MSP)

Date: 2012-01-23, 9:33AM CST
Reply to: comm-xxxxx-xxxxxxxxxx@craigslist.org

Hey there. Hello. I need a band. Same here. Perhaps we will speak with each other rationally and decide that we should combine our efforts. I need, in fact, the whole schmear: vox, bass, drums. Violin, cello or another guitarist. Keys if they are brilliantly and originally done. I'm out.

I play guitar, mandolin, piano, didjeridu, bass and studios. OK, A) nobody "plays" the didjeridu; it's a pipe you lip fart into. B) How do you play a studio? Is it like that thing that David Byrne did? I write wickedly well. "Wickedly" enough that you're up to date on contemporary slang... circa 1986. Notice that I did not say that I can sing. Because I cannot. (At least, not enough.)

Yes I've songs, contacts, gear, transportation, drive, time and money to do this. Yes I am a pro. Yes I am an artist. Yes, your matter-of-factness is beginning to come off a little arrogant. No, you do not know how to place commas.

No: If you lack gear, We've been over this. transportation, We've been over this. drive, We've... No, not that one. So, yeah, my ambition has waned since arriving in Minneapolis six years ago. time Scads. and (at least some small amount of) money, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HA! Bitch, I am broke! you may as well not reply. I'm not your taxi service, Didn't ask you to be. your payday loan company, So you're under the impression that broke people will join your band so they can borrow twenty bucks until pay day? nor am I much interested in listening to lame excuses like "I called you, was your phone off?" or "Sorry, I've just been so busy lately." Yeah, people have these things called everything else in their lives. They have families, jobs, bills, hangovers, new girlfriends, ex-girlfriends, car problems, sore throats, fevers, dinners, neighbors, pets, and all kinds of other shit that can take up their time, thus resulting in them having been so busy lately. Chill out.

The music? Ahh, yes. Key point, that. Tough to say beforehand, innit? Just tell me what kind of fucking music you want to make. I envision something somewhere between the Velvets, Tom Waits, the Waterboys, the soundtrack to "Girl With the Dragon Tattoo" and the first Nick Drake album. But actually, now that I think of it, "between" isn't the right word at all, that would just be a textureless mush. Let us say that I like all of that music and what I write seems to include various elements of each of them (and a few more besides). SSSooo... between them?

Now, it should be pointed out that I am not looking for a backing band to play "my" songs. I want A BAND. A collaboration. Okay, great, if you cannot write you cannot. No prob, I write all the bloody time. But I am looking for partners, team members, equals. If you aren't ready to put in the time and energy then please do not reply. Cool. No hard feelings. But if you want to be in . . . make . . . the most interesting -- and fun! -- band around: Gimme a shout.

Soon.

Location: MSP
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: xxxxxxxxxx

Vocalist looking to focus on heavy metal/doom project

Date: 2012-01-22, 4:09PM CST
Reply to: comm-xxxxx-xxxxxxxxxx@craigslist.org

Hey, Hello. I'm fairly new to the area. It's not too late to change that. If you like heavy metal along the lines of Satan (UK), Brocas Helm, and Angel Witch, or doom along the lines of Saint Vitus, Lord Vicar, and Pentagram, and would like practicing with a dedicated vocalist, let me know. I'm available weekends and weekdays after 3pm if you'd like to grab coffee and listen to records or whatever. I know it's not the world's best joke but, seriously, and you can ask Janis, Carson, or Little John if you don't believe me, but "listening to records" was my move back in summer 2010. We'd be sitting around the patio, I'd strike up a conversation with a lady, ask her if she wanted to go downstairs to my room and listen to some records and that would be all she wrote. So when this guy wants to get together and "listen to some records"? Yeah. It just sounds like a booty call, to me.

- Thanks.

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

PostingID: xxxxxxxxxx

And, now, SD&A presents a very special episode of "Separated at Birth: Metal Bands in Search of 'Clean' Vocals Edition"...

front man wanted (andover)

Date: 2012-01-22, 11:11AM CST
Reply to: comm-xxxxx-xxxxxxxxxx@craigslist.org

we are currently seaking a loud and brutal frontman for an original hard energy band must be able to lift band to new levels we are older and well experienced musician vocal rangs from bands like snot, Seriously? Snot? I don't even remember what they sound like and I'm still pretty sure you should be embarrassed for copping to that in public. hatebreed,droid..... clairity a must we want people to understand our anger!!!!! What's that? clairity a must we want people to understand our anger!!!!! Sorry, one more time? clairity a must we want people to understand our anger!!!!! Then see a shrink. apply within leave name and number and well get back to u

Location: andover
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: xxxxxxxxxx

HEAVY METAL front man needed (Twin Cities)

Date: 2012-01-21, 11:28PM CST
Reply to: comm-xxxxx-xxxxxxxxxx@craigslist.org

in search of a Heavy Metal front man. must have great voice, CLEAN VOCALS cant rip off some rob halford screams none of the pig squeal shit though.

must have great attitude and ability to play shows and practice.

If you respond to this ad with the pig squeal type stuff You're really specific about that pig squeal thing aren't you? Were you raped by hillbillies? or none clean vocals I am not even going to take the time to respond back because you obviously cant read. I want CLEAN VOCALS.

Location: Twin Cities
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: xxxxxxxxxx

Female Voclist for Original Nat Rock/Funk/Soul (Minneapolis)

Date: 2012-01-21, 10:14AM CST
Reply to: comm-xxxxx-xxxxxxxxxx@craigslist.org

We are a national original band OK, stop already. Just stop. "National original band"? You realize that doesn't mean a goddamned thing. Look, if you're trying to impress people with your grandiose stature, how about you just give us the fucking band name? looking to add a female vocalist to our group. No head games. Seriously, my mind just went straight to the Foreigner Belt. No egos. Just business and a desire to be tight and smoking.

Looking for a background vocalist that can also sing lead on occasion. Play guitar or keys a plus. Write your own songs or have ideas, a plus.

If you're ready to start or restart a career ? send me an email. Let's talk. Nothing good can come of this.

Location: Minneapolis
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: 2810823522

Toad the Wet Sprocket Tribute Band (Saint Paul)

Why?

Date: 2012-01-17, 8:23PM CST
Reply to: see below ^{[Errors when replying to ads?]}

I am a drummer Right. OK. looking to form a Toad the Wet Sprocket tribute band. Why? Must be commited and I mean, this is really bugging me. Why a Toad the Wet Sprocket cover band? talented enough to pull of the I mean, they could be described as "marginally memorable" at best. harmonies and different instruments needed. I have I mean, why? good gear and tons of live and studio experience. Out of all the bands that have ever existed in the history of ever... you pick... why?

Xxxx (xxx)xxx-xxxx Seriously, why?

Location: Saint Paul
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: xxxxxxxxxx

Need 2 female back up singers for pop punk band (Minneapolis)

Date: 2012-01-17, 6:17PM CST
Reply to: comm-xxxxx-xxxxxxxxxx@craigslist.org

New up and coming pop punk band is seeking two female back up singers to back up their female vocalist. So, a pop punk band with shoop-shoop girls. Interesting approach to a stagnant genre and I think that I would see this band. Must be able to sing harmonies That should be a given. and be available for a show at the end of march. Rehearsal starts the end of Feb. To audition please send a headshot OK, that's where I'm calling shenanigans. Can we knock this off? You know what I'm talking about: For the past month here, there have been some ads looking for female band members wherein the prospective female would be gauged on her looks. And, believe me, it doesn't make it excusable that the people who were making good-looking a requisite for membership were females themselves. And here's the thing, I can't tell if the female posters are conditioned by western patriarchal society or are simply narcissistic. "We're a band of good looking women and we ask that you be hot, too!" "I'm a female musician and I've got the pro look!" How is it that I - a big ol' penis swingin' around male - feel like I'm witnessing the objectification of women? By women? Is it because I'm a punker? Is that it? Punk, the refuge of all the outcasts, that among many of its tenets reminded us that looks didn't matter, what mattered is whether or not you could play your goddamned instrument. It's like this: James Osterberg is not a handsome man but Iggy Pop is a sexy son of a bitch. Your music - your skill, your talent - makes you sexy. Lest we forget the lesson of Pajamaband. Sure, they're hot but they also sure as hell can't play. As in at all.
It's like this: You want a singer? Ask for the voice. You want a model? Ask for the face. and an mp3 or video fo you singing. Please email if you have questions Here's my question: Fuck you. or would like to know more information!

Location: Minneapolis
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: xxxxxxxxxx

The Top 30 (or so) Records/EP's etc. of 2011, Part 4: 15-11

2012-01-23T01:12:00.003-06:00

After taking a little break, here we are again with yet another installment of The Top 30 Records/EP's/Whatever of 2011. I'm sure Charlie kept you entertained with tales of lobster dinners, sketchbooks filled with zombies and female guitarists, lovingly butchered musicians' ads on Craigslist and anal sex.

15. Prurient - Bermuda Drain (Hydra Head)

Everyone made a big stink about this when it first came out because Dom Fernow decided to take the big step of writing actual songs for a Prurient record this time around. Previously, Fernow used Prurient as a vehicle for many, many above-average noise records. I'm not familiar with many of the albums he made before this, but The History of Aids is a very good power electronics album with an interesting concept and Cocaine Death is a fascinating record that reaches a uniquely strange, atmospheric compromise between snatches of melody and straight noise. But Fernow's time as Wes Eisold's main collaborator in the overrated, boring synthpop project Cold Cave seemed like the factor that caused him to make such a radical change as Prurient. This didn't seem too promising for the record. But I realized two things: Prurient will never be as straightforward, accessible or diluted as Cold Cave, and Cocaine Death was a hint that Fernow had aimed at making an album like this for a while anyway. Bermuda Drain is an extremely theatrical record, but it isn't pop at all: it's basically icy goth synthpunk, and I can certainly get behind that. Fernow's shredded, hateful scream is still very much in evidence, and he varies that howl with an entertaining, cold, knowingly deadpan monotone that he uses for all the quieter songs. While it is sort of frustrating hearing him not even try to sing, I certainly enjoy Fernow's threatening sprechgesang and think it works. There are more than a few moments here which are just ridiculously campy (the much-discussed "Palm Tree Corpse" is the preferred example), but I have a really hard time believing that this wasn't absolutely 100% intentional, and I love many of the songs here. The melodies, especially on the quieter songs like "Bermuda Drain," "Let's Make a Slave," "Myth of Sex," "Sugar Cane Chapel" and yes, even "Palm Tree Corpse," are all very memorable and stick in my head, and the frozen, elegant synthesizer tones fit the melodies and atmosphere perfectly. Fernow might have made a break with his past work with this album, but repeated listens reveal something odd: it's simultaneously not quite as much of a break as it might seem at first ("Watch Silently" is certainly as nasty a noisefest as you could hope for, though Fernow's vocals are actually pretty funny), and it's also a decisive move forward into more conventionally structured material. That's actually pretty impressive, if you ask me.

14. ASAP Rocky - LiveLoveA$AP (RCA)

ASAP Rocky has been riding a tsunami of hype recently, and the odd thing is that it's actually halfway deserved. Most of the commentary about Rocky has focused on the fact that he's a New York rapper who doesn't sound like he's from New York, but that's really sort of limiting and doesn't focus on what Rocky does well. And what Rocky does well can be hard to see at first. Rocky's not the greatest MC to ever step up to the microphone by a long shot, but on the other hand, he certainly knows how to rap and has different techniques at his disposal: he can call upon an unhurried, relaxed, yet quick and competent style, a well-executed double-time Midwest Bone-Thugs-esque flow and a slow, easy Southern-influenced delivery at will. His subject matter basically comes down to proclaiming how many ways he's the shit (smoking blunts, fucking hoes, calling himself a "pretty motherfucker," etc), and it could easily get really boring if he didn't find fun ways to say it differently each time. And he certainly doesn't seem all that original at first. But LiveLoveA$AP is a very successful album for about four reasons, which are: 1) Rocky is a charismatic, charming talent on the mic - he manages to convince me that he'd actually be fun to hang out with, which is pretty essential to the overall effect; 2) Rocky has one hell of an ear for beats that are both good on their own and that he'd sound good over; 3) Rocky really knows how to maintain consistency for 50+ minutes, which is not easy to do; and perhaps most importantly, 4) Rocky is a stylistic magpie who takes bits and pieces from tons of different, unrelated hip-hop styles and puts them all together into one original, signature style of his own. He bites from different trends and regions in hip-hop all over the album (Wiz Khalifa would have done something like "Peso" if he had any talent at all in his emaciated body; there's more than a nod to Lil B's based music in the trademark ethereal beats from superproducer Clams Casino and boasts about his own prettiness; Rocky's association with Miami producer/rapper Spaceghostpurrp provides him with access to weird but polished Three 6 Mafia-influenced beats; and of course, he's upfront about stealing Houston hip-hop blind - how many of these songs have chopped-and-screwed vocals?), and puts all those different things together in ways that really don't sound like anyone else - and of course, this is worlds removed from any kind of stereotypical New York hip-hop sound. Plus, Rocky keeps up with every guest rapper on the album, and none of the guest rappers ever fall flat - Schoolboy Q particularly shines on "Brand New Guy." Put it all together, and you really do start to understand why Rocky got his $3 million deal. Let's hope he manages to remain this consistent over his next few albums.

13. Cop Warmth - Die Slow 7" (In The Red)

This was the WTF Prizewinner of the Year: five lunatic splortches of stomach-turning slapdick squall so truly demented that you wonder how these fools even managed to learn their instruments, much less put out a record. Cop Warmth sound like the unloved, deformed bastard children of Pussy Galore and Lamps getting high on cough syrup and jamming with Circle X's first drummer. The whole thing is amazingly sloppy - the drumming's a complete mess most of the time, the bass obliviously grinds away, the guitars spew unchecked, bent-out-of-all-discernible-tune groans and streams of horrible noise, and the vocals all sound like a couple of immensely agitated, drugged-up freaks retching up bile into an echo unit - and I can't help but love the shit out of this morass of hammering slop each time, because, you know, there are songs hidden down there. You just have to listen a few times for it to become clear. I also give them bonus points for the outburst of destructive white noise on "Positive Vibe" - makes me sit up every time.

12. Danny Brown - XXX (Fool's Gold)

There wasn't a hip-hop song this year that sounded as completely wired, as totally overbright and dangerous as "Die Like a Rockstar" did. It sounds like a party already gone horribly and unstoppably wrong that everyone knows is going to keep going until it peters out into vomit and unconsciousness at 10:30 am the next morning. It's a brilliant song, and still probably the song on this album that I've listened to most. Danny Brown had been around for a while before this, but XXX was his ticket to a relative big time, and deservedly so. This is a record that takes a whole bunch of different-sounding beats - "Die Like a Rockstar" is totally fucked-up electro, "Radio Song" is almost ridiculously stripped down and minimal, "Pac Blood" and "I Will" are lush and smooth (though the former is tense and the latter is almost caring), "Scrap or Die" is fascinating, dark and rhythmically complex, and "Adderall Admiral" actually samples This Heat's "Horizontal Hold" for God's sake (I'm sorry, I know it's hipster bait but still!) - and unifies them all with Brown's distinctive, unnervingly jacked-up persona. His rhymes are often creepy and gritty - prescription drug abuse is a recurring theme, and the second half of the record details the kind of poverty that you really only see in Detroit (Brown's from Linwood, for all my fellow Michigan readers' information) - but what's truly odd about him is how starkly different his voices are. For Brown has two, almost diametrically opposed deliveries: one is a calmer, lower-pitched, darker, observational tone of voice that he almost always uses to deliver brutally detailed songs about life in Detroit (e.g. "Scrap or Die") and a very weird, almost cartoonishly trebly strangled sneer that somehow often manages to just drip with stimulant-enhanced menace (e.g. "Die Like a Rockstar"). It's almost like hearing two different sides of the same person take turns narrating the record, and that divided effect heightens the record as an overall experience. If XXX is any indication, Brown's next record may be even more bizarrely great; let's hope that turns out to be the case.

11. Liquor Store - Yeah Buddy (Almost Ready)

Hey, you there, you slouching in the corner. Come here. Okay, don't look at me like that - I'll come to you. I'll pull up a chair. Jesus christ, stop looking at me like that, I'll buy us a few Old Milwaukees. I know why you're down in the dumps. You felt like music let you down, and really, who could blame you? It really did feel like the world of music was against us - Bon Iver, a man with a neckbeard, an overwrought falsetto and fatal tastes for insipid poetry and reheated yacht rock, was the face of independent music this year. It's enough to make the ghost of Joey Ramone puke in his Chuck Taylors. Well, I know what you've been looking for. And that thing you've been looking for is a goddamn straight-up rock and roll record. You've been looking for a record soaked in Yuengling, sweat, grievously abused prescription medications and cigarette smoke, filled with old-as-the-hills rock riffs that somehow become vital all over again through sheer force of performance - in short, a record brimming with actual rock and roll songs that just don't quit, all topped off with high-pitched, sneering, squeaking, unbelievably obnoxious vocals (think Doc Corbin Dart imitating that nerd with the coke-bottle glasses and the hard Philadelphia accent in Frederick Wiseman's High School and you might be there, but not much) and three ringing, distorted guitars united in glorious harmony, churning out witless pentatonic lead lines and chopped-out barre chords. Well, this record is for you. This is a record that's for all of us, really. Featuring the cheapest and funniest cover art of the year, Yeah Buddy is basically what Liquor Store always promised to turn into. But they never actually seemed like they would follow through - their early shows, often featuring as many as five to seven guitarists onstage, were astonishingly untogether and completely wrecked, basically the stuff of Tri-State scenester joke legend; and the Free Pizza 7" single that came out before this certainly didn't do much to dispel the unfortunate impression that Liquor Store was sort of a joke band with a fondness for riffs that sounded stale in 1956. You got the idea that, if they ever got it together, they could really turn into a great rock and roll band - but that seemed like a remote possibility. Well, it happened, and we should all be happy, because this album is just fantastic. I mean, there are even some real moments of beauty in these songs - "Banned From The Block" features a jangly intro that's almost heart-in-mouth-territory, which really doesn't make sense coming from an album this gloriously stupid, and the intro to "Showdown at Wookie Lake" is a masterpiece of tension-building. You'll pick out some filched riffs here and there (that's definitely the Ramones' "Loudmouth" midway through "Proud To Be An American Man," which doesn't matter because the song is killer), and "Bud Lite Killers" doesn't really work too well, but isn't it enough that five dickheads from New Jersey put out one of the best rock records this year? Isn't it enough that there's an indisputable anthem here dedicated to Commando (aka the classic Schwarzenegger cinematic cheesefest)? Or yet more indisputable anthems about pumping iron in a basement and taking Vicodin after dental surgery? Sarim al-Rawi and his crew have the right idea. Drink. Act like a moron. Get the yawp out. Rock. Yeah buddy.

Tonight's dinner.

2012-01-22T19:14:00.000-06:00

That's a quarter pound bacon cheeseburger cooked in bacon fat and seasoned with sea salt, black pepper, paprika, and Worcestershire served on a toasted bun with spinach, roma tomato, red onion, kosher dill, cheddar, pepperjack, catsup, mustard, and horseradish. Also, there were fries, if that counts for anything.
You can just barely see the juices accumulating around the bottom of bun. 'cause that's how I roll, B.

Last night's dinner.

2012-01-22T19:07:00.002-06:00

Chili rellenos!
I had no idea how to make these but Georgie raves about them and I figured, Hell, I already buy poblano peppers, let's give it a go.
If you've never had one - Well, hold on. I've never had one. Never had one, never made one, so Georgie was my guinea pig last night so I could be sure I made them right.
So here's what it is: A poblano stuffed with cheese and deep fried. That's it.
Here, I looked up some recipes right quick and culled what I needed from each. Long and short of it, since I was feeding three people - Georgie, Little John, and myself - I bought three healthily sized poblanos and a ten ounce package of queso fresca (a white, crumbly cheese that melts well). I thought for sure that I would have too much cheese. Nope. Ten ounces between three peppers is just enough.
Then I had to make a batter. I've actually never done this before so I guessed. Two eggs and three tablespoons of flour (along with some salt, pepper, Chalula, and Tapatío) did the trick. I then rolled the peppers in the batter and fried them each a few minutes per side in a half inch of extra virgin olive oil.
The rice was reddened with hot sauce, chili powder, and cumin. The black beans were cooked with red onion, lime juice, and cilantro.
Georgie said they were awesome but also mentioned that the chili rellenos she'd had were normally softer, almost like they had been boiled. The poblanos I used were fresh from the market that day and so crisp. And spicy. And made my asshole sting like a hive of bees this morning.

Another one I drew at the bar.

2012-01-22T18:56:00.002-06:00

This is the fortieth and last of the first series of sketches - one every other page to accommodate for ink bleed - in the sketchbook that Carson gave me on my thirtieth birthday, last year.
Since receiving it, I have, once a week, gone to the Black Forest Inn every Sunday after my bike ride around the lakes to sip a little late morning / early afternoon hair of the dog while listening to old crooners and chatting with Theresa.
Since this was the last in this series, I decided to go with what I know best, deviating from my current repertoire of fake advertisements and movie posters, and draw a female figure study with a guitar. Because that's what I know I can do best: Women and guitars.
The idea came to me soon after completing the head shape; I saw her face, something expectant, and decided to draw that; large eyes and parted mouth. There was also very little in the way of drawing her frame first; I tend to draw nudes and then "clothe" them. This time, I drew only a very basic frame and little of what you see here had to be "framed" first. I also decided that, in order to be a cool punk rock gal, she needed to have a thrift store t-shirt of some sort, which is why she's sporting a "Track & Field" t. I'm actually really, really happy with this one. Because of the look on her face, I decided to title this piece "Between Songs".

Only question, though, and I'm serious: Ladies, help me out. Guitar straps vs. your boobs. How does this work?

Cool video alert!

2012-01-21T23:20:00.002-06:00

Man, it's fucking Cookie Monster doing Tom Waits's "God's Away on Business". What else could it be?

Man, I'm always late on Saturday, this shouldn't be news.

2012-01-21T21:33:00.003-06:00

Here, listen to more dub-step with PhoneShop samples.

I've been drinking scotch tonight. I'll have better stories tomorrow.

It's Friday: Let's Piss Off the New York City Metropolitan Transit Authority!

2012-01-20T12:23:00.000-06:00

I'm sure that the NYCMTA would like you to see more videos like this:

However, the majority of Subway videos I find look like these:

If any of these aren't from NYC, let me know. All I had to go on were titles, uploader names, and comments.

CLASSY AS FUCK.

2012-01-19T14:57:00.000-06:00

I'm putting this here because it's my blog and I can do whatever the hell I want.

Well, today, I am thirty one years old. Thirty, the cool number, is over. I'm now thirty one.
Thirty one.
But, it's not like I can't accomplish things anymore. For one thing, check out what I came up with: Breakdance emoticons.

~O~	That wavy arm thing.
(@)	That spinning on the floor thing.
O~	The worm. (Yes, I know what it looks like.)
nunu	The worm (alternate version).
-\\|/-	Poppin' & lockin'.
_O -O \O \|O O\| O/ O- O_	The robot.

OK, so what did I do while I was thirty? Considering I'm born smack-dab in the middle of January, that's practically asking me to do the 2011 year end review all over again. What to tell you, what to tell you...
OK, so here it goes.
This is the one I held out on since... when was it? October. Some of you, mon petit illiterati, I told you this over the phone.
The rest of you? Buckle up and fix a cocktail. This one is NSFW and I paint a rather unflattering picture of myself.

AGAIN, WHAT YOU ARE ABOUT TO READ IS NSFW. IT'S FAIRLY GRAPHIC AND IT'S NOT AT ALL PRETTY. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.

Early in October, 2011, we had a guest here. She was fairly attractive but had a few screws loose. A few necessary screws loose. But as long as she was sober, she was alright and easy going.
So Carson was over one night and we build a little bonfire out back on the patio with a few of the guests, ol' girl included. It's been a slow night and there's nothing better to do, so we're all sitting around drinking more than we should and the guy in the tux - he'd come to Minneapolis to be in a wedding - rolls a pinter and passes that around. The whole while, the conversation stays at a fairly decent, inside-voice level. Next door neighbor, the one who's cute in that young, pre-plastic surgery Courtney Love way but was dating the fauxhawk guy who complained to me about the parking situation out back, is flying off the handle, yelling at us from her third floor window to keep the noise down, at one point threatening to call the cops (that point, it should be noted caused us all to shut up for a second... and then erupt in laughter that actually was too loud).
It was late, probably about one o'clock in the morning, and ol' girl - the only woman present - and I get to talking and I ask her, Do you want to go downstairs? Fool around a little?
She says yes.
So we leave the party, now four guys just sitting around getting high, and go downstairs. I put on HTRK's Marry Me Tonight while we get undressed and she tells me that she wants me to fuck her in the ass. Me? I oblige. As time goes by, I'm about ready to pop, I ask her where she wants it. She tells me she wants it on her face.
I know, right? This is some dirty, dirty porno shit. First of all, I've never had a woman tell me she wanted it in the ass. I've been offered the ass before and I accepted but never has a woman told me to just straight up fuck her in the ass. Secondly, no woman has ever told me to shoot it on her face. I've been told to bring myself to completion in sundry other locales, but never on the face.
So I pull out (of, yeah, her ass), straddle her chest, and let it go.
I get up and tell her, Let me get you a towel. I walk over to the hamper of clean clothes I had still not put away from the day before and grabbed a hand towel. As I turn around, I find her wiping her face off on my pillow.
What are you doing?
"Huh?"
I've got a towel, right here.
"Oh."
I shook my head in forfeit and went to the bathroom to wash my hands, after all, I had just jerked my freshly-out-of-her-ass dick off on to her face. I then went back to my quarters and finished getting dressed and asked, Do you want to go back to the party?
"Yeah."
We go out to the bonfire and the guys are all having a good laugh, still at a normal, not-really-a-public-disturbance level and Carson is stoned. I'd never seen him stoned before and I have to say I like him better stoned than drunk. But he wants a beer and I want a cigarette, me being out of cigarettes at this point, something that hasn't happened in a few years. (Look, I'm trying to quit, OK?) So we go down to my quarters and I grab him a beer out of the fridge and tell him what had just happened because I'm a little miffed about my pillows.
He has a good laugh and we return, each with a fresh beer in hand, to the bonfire.
After about ten minutes goes by, the back door opens and this tall, skinny gal with a pageboy hair cut comes stumbling out and does a fucking face plant right into the patio bricks. Thus initiated the second instance where the group's volume encroached upon the rights of our slumbering neighbor as a collective "OOOHHH!!!" erupted from us as though we were watching skateboard wipeouts on YouTube. Pillows and I help her up and over to a lawn chair where she sat and chatted with us for a while before deciding she'd had enough and said something like "I need to find my room."
Pillows says, "I can take you."
I step in and say, Nah, it's cool, I've got the keys and all.
Pageboy says, "Yeah, I want him to do it."
So we go inside and I figured she was up in the third floor dorm. So I took her up there and it's not until we're at the top of the stairs that she says, "This isn't my room."
It's n-
"No, it's like down," she motions with her hands, "and around the corner? You know?"
Down and arou-
"Yeah." So we go to the second floor and she says, "Yeah, that's it," pointing to her room.
OK, so do you need a key or -
And then she just pins me to the wall and puts her tongue in my mouth. Me? I'm going with it. She pulls away long enough to say, "I want to make out but I don't want to bother my roommate."
I ask, You want to fuck?
"You gotta place we can fuck?"
Yeah, I say, and we head down to my quarters, I put on the same HTRK record from earlier and Pageboy says, "Nah, I want something a little more upbeat."
Being decently shagged and fagged, I couldn't think of anything beside mclusky do Dallas. No sooner do I turn around from the 'puter than she's ripping my clothes off - "without ceremony" is the way I usually describe the scenario - as I'm yanking hers off and she says, "I want to blow you."
Was I going to stop her? No. You know why I wasn't going to stop her? Because, seriously, hand to whichever god you want me to put my hand to, I had forgotten that my dick was in somebody's ass maybe a total of twenty or thirty minutes earlier. In fact, I hadn't considered it until I was in the middle of eating her out.
That? I did that for about an hour, hour and a half. I had nearly a full case of beer in me and I was damned lucky I had gotten it up in the first round. I knew that there was a slim chance of me getting fully erect at this point. But I'm whistling in the wheat field, trying to get Little Bruce Willis to wake up and she tells me, "I think it'd be cute if you fucked me in the ass."
Did you catch that part?
"I think it'd be cute if you fucked me in the ass."

SSSooo... O-fucking-K, then. We're good. We're going to do this. Little Bruce Willis is awake and raring to go now. So I reposition myself and prepare for entry and realize, out loud, Uh, that's not your ass.
She doesn't care. She just wants me to shut up and fuck. Cool. I can do that. And, as it happens pretty much every time, it came time to blow. I pulled out and shot it across her stomach. Being fairly whooped, I gave her a kiss and told her, Let me get you a towel.
I wiped her off and we rolled over to go to sleep, at four thirty in the morning.
At five thirty in the morning, her Blackberry alarm went off. She reached over me to grab it and said, "Uh, I think I just lost my job." She shot out of bed and put her clothes on before I showed her out.
I still have her socks.
Also? That night was the first night that I ever tossed salad.

We are on strike against SOPA.

2012-01-18T00:00:00.000-06:00

Friends. Readers. Casual observers. We are on strike against SOPA. There will be no posts on 18 January, 2012. You can read about it here. Oh! What's that? You can't? That's because Wikipedia is on strike, too.
I (Charlie Fucking Big Balls, formerly Daddy Charlie Jazz Hands) has already written to congress about this bill. I, along with the support of the rest of the SD&A staff (M. Martin, 72Westie, and JoeTron 4000) (or, at least, JT4K better be on board; I haven't heard back from him yet) urge you to write to congress as well.

Adventures in internet dating!

2012-01-17T13:33:00.000-06:00

Earlier today, this bird sends me a message basically telling me that my beard and my taste in music suck. So, in my attempt to figure out just who the fuck this bint thinks she is, I looked up her profile and then, since we're supposed to be a seventy one percent match, I looked at her questions.

Turns out we included the same link to Future of the Left doing "The Lord Hates a Coward" at SXSW.

Last night's dinner.

2012-01-17T10:16:00.000-06:00

I boiled spaghetti pasta in my triple lobster carcass / single chicken carcass broth and made a light sauce of diced roma tomatos and red onions, minced garlic cloves, and some fresh oregano and dehydrated basil and thyme (if I buy the fresh herbs, I never use them all before they start going purple) in olive oil. I then drained the pasta - which turned brown from the broth and retained the flavor - over the sauce to keep all that lobstery / chickeny goodness. Meanwhile, I sautéed chunks of chicken breast (some of which came out in shrimp-esque crescent shapes) and diced green bell pepper in olive oil with sea salt and pepper.
It was good if a little salty.

Yesterday's lunch.

2012-01-17T10:05:00.000-06:00

After Sunday's dinner, I boiled the remaining lobster carcasses, shells and all, along with a chicken carcass from Saturday's dinner to make a broth / base. The remaining mean was used in this sandwich.
That's chicken meat (that tasted more like lobster) along with scraps of lobster leg meat on whole grain bread butts with a slice of roma tomato, red onion, extra sharp cheddar, and (you know it) Tapatío.
Yes, I found Tapatío again. It was at the Asian market. I wondered out loud if Hai Nguyen had it as they had a large aisle end cap of Hispanic spices. Lo! and behold! I found a bottle while Little John (who said it was doubtful that they stocked it) and Carson hunted down lemons.
I am now the happiest man in my zipcode.

Last night's dinner.

2012-01-16T19:06:00.002-06:00

What's it look like? It's a fucking lobster.

Also? Little John made taters and vegetables. I made lemon garlic butter. Carson was in charge of the animal wrangling.

In fact, I named them: Lemon, Garlic, and Butter.

There's a certain sadness to this shot.

Your weekly musicians' ads.

2012-01-16T15:34:00.004-06:00

Fuck the intro.

Nu Metal Guitar Player (Twin Cities)

Date: 2012-01-15, 7:50PM CST
Reply to: comm-xxxxx-xxxxxxxxxx@craigslist.org

Guitar player, song-writer, singer, looking for new people to play with
•Drug & alcohol free [cough]Pussy![/cough]
•Happy fun loving character, next to no shame Oh, shit. He's one of "those" guys.
•Three different sizes of pro gear Wait wait wait wait wait... Now... Wha... I mea... Just shut up, now.
•Plenty of good transportation
•Excellent meter No. I told you to shut up.
•Career minded Thank you for submitting your resumé. We'll be making our decision by the end of the week.

Location: Twin Cities
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: xxxxxxxxxx

Girl fronted band seeking FEMALE BASSIST (Apple Valley, Minneapolis)

Date: 2012-01-13, 10:02AM CST
Reply to: comm-xxxxx-xxxxxxxxxx@craigslist.org

First of all, I promise I will not resort to the sexism jokes. Not because I know that some readers may have overlooked the irony in last week's post so much as I just don't want the inappropriate humor to get old.
We are more rock than anything but we are playing some funk, blues and pop as well. As long as you got the chops we're looking for then you'll probably be in. How do you like these chops?

OK. Sorry. That joke sucked. Moving on.

To better prepare for a practice you might want to learn Tom Sawyer No. and Spirit of the Radio No! from Rush. NO! These are our try out songs. NNNOOO!!! Then the rest will be how good you can keep up!

Send me an email if you want to try out. We have enough male bassists to try out, so only reply if you are female. OK, doesn't that just sound dickish?

We are an original band, but we do play a lot of covers as well.

Location: Apple Valley, Minneapolis
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: xxxxxxxxxx

ANY FEMALE MUSICIANS WANT TO WRITE SOME MUSIC??? (METRO AREA)

Date: 2012-01-11, 6:21PM CST
Reply to: comm-xxxxx-xxxxxxxxxx@craigslist.org

HI- Hi. I'm a female Sorry. I meant, Hello there. drummer just looking for good Must... resist... urge... to insert... misogynist... joke! female musicians Phew! Made it. to write some music with! I've just got a little itch You know they make a cream for that.
What!? Sorry! It slipped out!
That's what she said.
What!? to write again! I'm currently in a cover band and gig alot, so just looking to have a little fun You know, a little no-strings-attached thing, casual, semi-non-committal, you know... and if something comes That's what she said.
OK, that was the last one, I swear! of it awesome! And please not over the age of 40 i guess! What? Thanks let me know a little about you I'm a Capricorn. and your interests I enjoy long walks on the beach. and i'll give you some more info on me, pics, ! facebook, videos ! etc! Thanks! I need cool girls too, down to earth, easy to get along with, good attitude!

Location: METRO AREA
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: xxxxxxxxxx

Wanted: Guitarist (Twin Cities)

Date: 2012-01-11, 10:14AM CST
Reply to: comm-xxxxx-xxxxxxxxxx@craigslist.org

I'm the manager of a female front Pop/Rock Band, Looking for a committed GUITARIST to try out and eventually if all works out, be a part of the band. The band is going to tour this coming late February/March. Wow. Sure is a good thing then, considering that you basically have a month before the tour starts, that the only member you need to find and teach all the songs to is this one guitarist and that all the instrumental slots in this band are completely filled by committed and practiced musicians.
Bands we like are Paramore, Hey Monday, We The Kings, We Are The In Crowd, The Sounds, The Strokes, Etc... tons of bands out there that are great you just can't name them all.

Location: Twin Cities
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: xxxxxxxxxx

ORIG Touring Band LF Drums (We Built This City On Rock And Roll ;))

Why, this must be a completely different band!

Date: 2012-01-11, 10:11AM CST
Reply to: comm-xxxxx-xxxxxxxxxx@craigslist.org

I'm the manager of a female front Pop/Rock Band, Oh. Looking for a committed DRUMMER to session and eventually if all works out, be a part of the band. The band is going to tour this coming February/March. I don't want to completely poo-poo your dreams so I'll just say that you may want to look up the word "postpone".
Bands we like are Paramore, Hey Monday, We The Kings, We Are The In Crowd, The Sounds, The Strokes, Etc... Too many bands to name but tons of bands out there that are great.

Location: We Built This City On Rock And Roll ;)
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Industrial Metal anyone? (Burnsville)

Sure, let me just set the Wayback Machine to 1995.

Date: 2012-01-10, 11:03AM CST
Reply to: comm-xxxxx-xxxxxxxxxx@craigslist.org

I am a rhythm guitarist and vocalist and if anyone either knows how to program a drumbeat [raises hand] and has their equipment I'm typing this very blog post on it. or wants to actually drum with a drumset. OK, everybody reread that sentence, ignoring my commentary, and see if it makes any sense in the end.
I am hoping for just being a just a twopiece at first Ooohhh, [sharp inhale through teeth], would it be juvenile and tasteless to make a stuttering joke? Yeah? OK, then... Duh! A just a just a just a just a twopiece. Duh! but I don't mind if we find a different singer or guitarist after that (sick of dealing with bassists), What? You mean, as in all bassists? Th'fuck? but I am really just looking for somebody who can drum or drumprogram. I retract my raised hand to illustrate that I do not care for your tone.
Influences are; NIN, It's sad when a band peaks with their second record. Ministry, It's sad when a band's front man steals his look from La Sexorcisto and Astro-Creep 2000 era Rob Zombie. Dope, It's sad when a band is Dope. Econoline Crush, It's sad when your band name makes me think more of the accident that killed D. Boon. Marilyn Manson, Him, I still like alright and I can't tell you why. Static X, It's sad when your hair is more memorable than your band. Waste Incorporated, It's sad when your band keeps getting listed as an influence in Craigslist ads and I still don't want to check you out. 2wo, It's sad when a band thinks that that's a clever name. and a little Rammstien. Always made me laugh. With them, not at them.
Contact me if interested.

Below is some artwork I created including a name idea.

Location: Burnsville
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Punk mandolinist/Violinist (Twin Cities)

Date: 2012-01-10, 8:49AM CST
Reply to: xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx@yahoo.com

Howdy! 't's up? Hey I'm bored! Isn't this how the "casual encounters" ads begin? I work 3 overnights a week then basically have 4 days off. Im 23. Celtic punker. (no i'm not irish i just love the music) OK, junior, you're already on my bad side. That bad side being my half-Irish side and my half-Irish side is telling you to shut the fuck up, sit down, and don't call yourself Celtic-anything again, you get me, boo? It's nice that you like music associated with my people but you aint no Celt. So chill out and let's never use that word again. I've been playing guitar for 7 years. Mandolin for 4. And violin for about 6 months. I can generally catch on with the fiddle. I just wanna join a punk or faster band. OK, really, guy, I'm starting to run out of bad sides because now you're on my punk side and I have to inform you that punk is a genre, not a tempo. Not a drop d crust punk or hardcore band... Never Again.. lol OMG! How the fuck old are you again? Just not my style. So if your a punk band or any band really looking for a good fill in. Look me up! You can email me or contact me via facebook! The world needs more folk players, why not combine em with punk? My dream is a Jewish Celtic punk band Believe it or not, that statement actually forced me to ask myself if there were, indeed, Irish Jews. but I'll settle for anything right now :) So yeah I'm easy going and bored! I drink, love pubs, I don't smoke, I still believe in God, so up yours. Why? Why did you have to do that? You know, I don't give a shit what you believe in. Go believe in whatever you want to believe in. But when you take that preemptive defensive stance about it you just come off like a twat. That's why you're still here on Craigslist and not out there making music. :P umm I'm more happy go lucky and try to be goofy.
Life Motto: I don't see the glass half empty or half full, I just wanna drink it and fill it up again. Oh, Jesus. Pougemahone! Hi! Irish half of me again! Just wanted to check in and remind you of your place. That place being not Irish.
Additionally, if you're going to attempt to swear in a different language, at least do it right. Pogue - P O G U E - mahone is two words. It's the Anglicized spelling of the Gaelic "póg mo thóin". As you're a "Celtic punker", I can only assume that you learned this phrase from the seminal Irish rock band the Pogues, in which case, you should know how to spell it correctly as you have at least one of their records, right?
Further, "póg mo thóin" translates to "kiss my ass". I know this. I know that you know this. I also know why you used it: Everybody's first foreign language words are curse words. You want to be punk, you want to prove you're down with the Celts, you use the tiny bit of Gaelic you know, you should be in, right? Here's the thing, though: You just publicly told the Irish musician community to kiss your ass. How well do you really think that will work?
Imagine if I were to post an ad wherein I wanted to join a Tejano band. And then I end the ad with "¡Chinga te, pendejo!" How far do you think that would get me? Hm? Because do you know what I said? I just told the Hispanic musician community, "Fuck you, asshole!" How many people do you think are going to invite me to be in their band after that.
So, no, sir, no. Duit póg mo thóin.

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Location: Twin Cities
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WE SEEK YOUR DRUMMING SKILLS.

Date: 2012-01-10, 4:34AM CST
Reply to: xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx@gmail.com

Hear ye, hear ye, teenagers Taylor and Molly

Sorry, sorry. Go ahead and start over. Hear ye, hear ye, teenagers Taylor and Molly are in the market for someone who can keep a beat in their rock and roll garage type band. Please tell me that you're the parent. Taylor sings and plays Led Zeppelin solos and a whole lot of Love?
What? It's not like that, it's a Zeppelin joke. You know, "Whole Lotta Love"? He plays "a whole lot of..."? See? other stuff, and Molly sings and plays bass and stages gummy bear gang fights. Nope. It's not the parent. Come complete our circle of love. OK, kids, you're on what's called the internet right now. Publicly calling strangers into your garage for a love circle is really not going to turn out as well as you're hoping. Influences are stuff like The White Stripes, The Runaways, David Bowie, Bob Dylan, The Ramones, The Sex Pistols, The Pixies, Nirvana, the list goes on. With the exception of the White Stripes, I'd say these parents have done a fantastic job. So if you like one, many, or all of those sounds and you're a drummer looking for a band, email us immediately. We request that you already own your own drum set, but if you do not, and we think you're really cool, we might be able to work something out. Like what? How he's going to play no drums?

*No creepers please. Likelihood of that? Nil. I mean, come on. Even I think Molly sounds hot.
What!? Now I can't do pedo humor?

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It's 0032CST, this is obviously not your weekly musicians' ads.

2012-01-16T00:36:00.002-06:00

"Straight Outta Compton" from Straight Outta Compton vs. "Straight Outta Locash" from CB4.

This one is equally delightful.

My god, this is too pretty.

2012-01-15T01:25:00.000-06:00

We're only fifteen days into the new year and I've already found the prettiest sounding thing I've heard for all of 2012. Jesus Christus, really.

Look, I'm always late on Saturdays, alright?

2012-01-14T14:56:00.001-06:00

So, here: Look at my fridge. It's more like a hotel minibar.

Whiskey selection includes: Jameson, Seagram's 7, Johnnie Walker Red Label (only one more drink left in the bottle), Johnnie Walker Black Label (to be had on my birthday). I suppose it might be more impressive if I still had J&B scotch and some gin in there. And if I were a college freshman.