The Passion of the Weiss

The Move

2007-09-06T05:44:00.000-04:00

As of today, The Passion of Weiss has moved. Please update your bookmarks and blogrolls. The new URL is http://passionweiss.com

Thanks.

Download:
MP3:Organized Konfusion-"The Move" (left-click)

10 Questions Raised By The Video For Positive K's "I Got a Man" Upon Re-Examination in the Year 2007

2007-09-05T03:56:00.000-04:00

1. Is Positive K wearing Joseph's actual "amazing technicolor dreamcoat?"

2. Is chasing orange spandex suit-wearing women up a flight of stairs evidence of a serious psychological disturbance, or is it completely justifiable behavior?

3. Is Positive K's ability to rap as both the man and the woman in the song one of the most supreme vocal achievements of the 20th century?

4. What does "I'm not a dove baby, so don't play me like a clown," really mean?

5. Should the styles of Puerto Rican video ho's in New York City circa 1993, forever be known as of "The Rosie Perez" era.

6. If you were hitting on a girl and she asked you, "Are a you a chef? Cuz you keep me feeding me soup," is the only acceptable response to nod your head, smile and mention that you are indeed a sous chef capable of making a spectacular pasta fagioli?

7. Was K's usage of the word "ragamuffin," the only time in U.S. hip-hop history that the word was ever used? Either way, can we all agree to bring back the word "ragamuffin," because of how fun it is to write the word "ragamuffin."

8. Should the styles of African-American video ho's in New York City circa 1993, forever be known as of the "Tisha Campbell" era?

9. Was the moment when K declares that he'll do anything for his women but "buy her things and take [her] out," the basis for the philosophy of Outkast's groundbreaking treatise on women's lib, "We Luv Deez Hoez." Specifically, the part where Big Boi says, and I quote, "I told y'all n---z about them taking them ho's to the Cheesecake Factory, letting them order strawberry lemonade and popcorn shrimp....they ain't gonna' do nuthin' but try to take all your motherfuckin' cheese."

10. Should the song end when Positive K refers to himself as "big daddy longstroke" and the girls' man as "Pee Wee Herman?" I believe in chess they call that a checkmate.

Have You Seen Video for Aesop Rock's "None Shall Pass?"

2007-09-04T14:29:00.000-04:00

Because if you haven't yet, you should.

The Mark of a Great Band

2007-09-04T02:17:00.000-04:00

Is a lead singer with a really cool hair cut. See Flock of Seagulls and/or Kid N' Play. My Morning Jacket lead singer Jim James doesn't really have a cool hair cut. Still, I think his band is pretty great. Labor Day has come and gone and I have neither the time nor energy for a long post at the current moment. I'm still recovering from an ill-advised trip to a NASCAR Rally on Sunday, which I hope to write about sometime soon if the ringing in my ears ever ceases.

Seeing as though today marks the beginning of Fall, there seems to be no better way to kick off the new season than with some songs from My Morning Jacket, a group whose lazy pretty Indian summer tunes seem tailor-made for the weeks that surround the harvest moon. In truth, if you really asked me my thoughts on what separates the good bands from the great, I'd probably answer that two of the most prominent marks of a great band are a deep catalogue chockful of standout B-sides and EP tracks, and the ability to cover classic songs and in the process re-write their very DNA. In my mind, My Morning Jacket succeed on both counts.

From the Songs Ohia Split EP

Download:
MP3: My Morning Jacket-"O is the One That Is Real" (left-click)

From the Chocolate & Ice EP

Download:
MP3: My Morning Jacket-"Cobra" (left-click)

Covers

Download:
MP3: My Morning Jacket- "Blue Moon" (Standard) (left-click)

MP3: My Morning Jacket-"Tyrone" (Erykah Badu) (left-click)

MP3: My Morning Jacket-"A Quick One While He's Away" (The Who) (left-click)

MP3: My Morning Jacket-"I Could Never Take the Place of Your Man" (Prince) (left-click)

My Vinyl Weighs a Ton

2007-09-01T17:12:00.001-04:00

Another day, another journey into the Ameoba vortex. This afternoon, it's siren called and by decree, I was forced to fork over the prerequisite $50 minimum. It's going to be the only record store left in town pretty soon, which is kind of sad. But I'm pretty happy right now after this haul.

What: EPMD-"Crossover" 12" vinyl single
Price: $6.98
Why: Because no one at Rawkus ever came close to writing an anti-commercial manifesto as good as this one. Plus, the B-Side, "Brothers from Brentwood L.I." is one of the best of the era.

Download:
MP3: EPMD-"Crossover" (left-click)
MP3: EPMD-"Brothers from Brentwood L.I. (left-click)

What: Grandmaster Flash-"The Message" vinyl LP
Price: $10.98
Why: The Message? Great album cover? Or greatest album cover.

Download:
MP3: Grandmaster Flash-"It's Nasty" (left-click)

What: "Dre Day" 12" vinyl single
Price: $6.98
Why:

Sometimes, I will wonder if Tim Dog still cries himself to sleep at night.

Download:
MP3: Dr. Dre-"Dre Day" (left-click)

What: Black Sheep-A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing vinyl LP
Price: $10.98
Why: The strength of Mista Lawnge's hair alone.

Download:
MP3: Black Sheep-"Strobelite Honey" (left-click)

What: Slick Rick, "Children's Story" 12" vinyl single
Price: $6.98
Why: I needed more album covers with eye-patches in my collection

Download: Slick Rick-"Children's Story" (left-click)

What: Aesop Rock-None Shall Pass vinyl LP
Price: $15.98
Why: Because it's great.

Download:
MP3: Aesop Rock-"None Shall Pass" (right-click)
MP3: Aesop Rock-"Citronella" (right-click)

What: Pink Floyd-The Wall LP
Price: $9.99
Why: I'm thinking of opening my own Laserium.

Download:
MP3: "Run Like Hell" (left-click)

Total: $74.55

Kanye West Delivers a Classic

2007-08-31T03:12:00.000-04:00

I've never really been a big Kanye West fan. I liked College Dropout well enough and thought roughly half of Late Registration was fantastic. But neither ever seemed to me like the sort of world-breaking achievements that warranted Ye's massive ego. But with Graduation, West has actually backed up his insane braggadocio, delivering the rare hip-hop album that not only manages to fulfill expectations but exceed them.

Whereas Late Registration in its saccharine swooning strings and superfluous instrumentation felt all too much like the work of a slightly insecure guy trying to make the most "important" sounding album possible, Graduation is the work of a confident and assured artist in his prime. It marks the first time in his career where his rapping ability has caught up to his production skills, the moment when Kanye finally became comfortable and consistent in his own persona, or as he puts it on "Good Morning": the fly Malcolm X, buy any jeans necessary."

It's the album that you hoped that the guy from College Dropout would grow up to make. Dallas Penn thinks the album is the sound of the future, and he's not all that far off. It's a mess of techno synths, haunting organs and familiar sounds re-purposed ingeniously, an avatar of the weird post-Internet world where the jump between Daft Punk and mainstream hip-hop doesn't seem all that far. And no one understands this new world better than Kanye, as he samples Steely Dan, Daft Punk, Can, Michael Jackson, to create one of the the most creatively produced hip-hop records since De La Soul. More importantly, he chops the samples well, manipulating the vocals effortlessly and precisely to create a seamlessness that his music had often lacked.

Pink: Still Not a Good Look

I realize this sort of comes off like some of fanboy declaration of how good this record is, but in all honesty, I was relatively apathetic to West until the album leaked yesterday. But on Graduation, he's captured something special, the sort of instant classic that feels impossible to hate on. You kind of have to root for the guy. It's sort of like the ultimate vindication for rap nerds everywhere, that a dorky guy who could barely get a record deal actually turned into the most acclaimed rapper in the world and instead of squandering his talent, he dug deeper and worked harder to secure his legacy.

I'm not sure how this album will hold up over time, as I've only heard it a half dozen times so far, but my gut instincts tell me that it will go down as one of the great rap records of the decade. I realize this is a bold statement to make but let's be real, anybody that manages to coax great performances out of Chris Martin and T-Pain deserves a Nobel fucking Prize. So, count me in with the pack. This is worthy of the hype that will doubtlessly be thrown its way. I guess Kanye West really has graduated to become the artist he always wanted to be, finally earning the right to not have to be told anything. Though, maybe he should listen every once and a while. After all, somebody needs to tell him that those pink outfits make him look like a gay salmon.

Download:
MP3: Kanye West-"Everything I Am ft. DJ Premier)" (left-click)
MP3: Kanye West-"Stronger" (left-click)

Great Scott! 5 of the Worst Movies Involving Rappers

2007-08-30T03:03:00.000-04:00

Scott Towler has returned from licking his wounds over ABC's refusal to grant him an interview regarding their "Go Green" campaign. He is now reasonably convinced that licking one's own wounds is rather pointless and slightly weird.

America loves rappers turned actors. It makes sense in theory. Good rappers are usually born performers and by nature exude a confidence and swagger that would translate well to the screen. Besides, most rappers are liars anyhow (or did you think that every one really has a crime record longer than Manute Bol?), so one would think acting shouldn't be a stretch. Or maybe they just walked into their agent's office one day, pointed a gun at him or he and said: "Give me a movie or I'll motherfucking kill you." It worked for Suge Knight.

Sadly, the rise of the rapper/actor/model (and not the other way around), has not made for great cinema. See these five examples.

DMX is not an actor. Fine, technically he is. He did Belly and that was cool. But a fucking Seagal movie? That's like a legit actor taking a role on a soap opera and playing the "hunky doctor from out of town" (to quote Soap Opera Digest) The only reason I watch this thing was to see just how fast DMX could load a gun on screen. The answer: swiftly, with a touch of thug. What more can you ask for?

Though Ice Cube still continues to believe he is a thug icon, he's about as tame as a Bengal Tiger in Las Vegas: you know the thug is still there, but has long left the wild (see Siegfried). Though I gotta give Cube some credit. Out of all the actor/rappers out there, he's the most legit. Between Are We There Yet, Are We Done Yet, and Friday, he has tremendous commercial appeal. The only problem came early on in his acting career when he finished out the tail end of his contractual obligation making Next Friday and then Friday After Next...Friday (the first one, not next Friday, homes) or whatever that abortion of a movie was called.

I'll confess, I paid to see Next Friday in theaters. And it wasn't half bad. It wasn't half good either. So to take a concept (the first movie), make that concept worse (the second movie), and then go and make that concept even worse (see above movie poster)...well...I'm baffled. The only saving grace is that Cube has enough staying power to not let that kill his career. After all, Cube ain't a killer, he's a lover. Or did you not hear "Today was a Good Day?"

It's not just male raptors that make this mistake (ooh, there's the word! raptor!) Anyway, just like the male raptors that have made movies, the female dilophosaurs are just as guilty. Exhibit A: Queen "UNITY" and the abomination that was Taxi. Call me crazy, but I think Jill Scott could've played this role better, plus I would have enjoyed her voice more. Instead, Jill Scott keeps making fantastic R&B records, and Queen Latifah has all but given up on music. I think her last venture was a lounge CD. And not even the good kind of lounge (think Guidance Records in Chicago or OM in San Fran), but the cheesy Benny Goodman "In the Mood" lounge of the 30s and 40s. Good for you lady! You managed to make yourself even less appealing! Yippee! Maybe next you can paint a face on your stomach and wear one of those hats that goes down to your boobs. I'll sign you up for a Shriner parade, and we'll pay you in circus peanuts.

The studio exec that made this probably believes that blaxsploitation probably died with I'm Gonna Git You Sucka. Truth be told, blaxsploitation is still alive and kicking today. It's most recent incarnation, Mo'nique's Phat Girlz, is a film about a hunky man falling for Mo'Nique's hideous self. Then, at the end of the movie, he tells her that the real beauty is in a big woman. Yeah fucking right. Hey Mo Mo- wake up. You suck, you're not funny, and please stop making me switch to letter box just so I can fit the other actor in the scene.

A more classic look at blaxsploitation comes from Soul Plane, a movie in which nothing happens but the obvious. It's like it was written by K-fed and Jamie Kennedy collaborating around the theme that if they can put hydraulics on the plane, people will think it was both "dope" and "ill" and maybe even Snoop could come in and say 'fizzle' for the white people to luagh. Soul Plane was just a string of tired stereotypes trying to re-make Barber Shop, ran out of locations, and put it on a plane. Newsflash crackers: there are no purple airplanes. And the day that 'the world's most ghetto airline' has a hub in LA (aside from United Airlines) let me know. I'll sip on sizzurp and get blunted at 30,000 feet.

Idlewild actually had good intentions: setting the modern movie-musical and setting it in a different place and time than anyone had seen done before. Except Idlewild felt like a string of music videos pieced together to make a mediocre movie. Even if they were made the music first and wrote the script around it, theme albums are just hard to do. They knew this much-delayed movie was gonna' be a failure welll before it was released. Not to mention the film premiered around the same time as ATL and Get Rich or Die Trying. Poor timing, poor script, and shitty acting don't make a movie. Unless we're talking Teen Wolf.

Download:
MP3: Outkast-"Hollywood Divorce"

Fuck That Beef Shit, That Shit is Played Out

2007-08-29T18:41:00.000-04:00

If these two could reconcile after Jay-Z fucked Nas' baby mama and then told the world about it, how difficult could it be for me and Bradford of Deerhunter to squash our short-lived and obviously absurd beef, one most aptly summarized by Maura of Idolator as making you regret the invention of the Internet? The answer: not hard at all. Bradford sent me a very kind and apologetic e-mail yesterday and in return I did the same. In short, shit is all good. I'd explain more, but Bradford's already done so on his own blog, so go there and while you're at it, you ought to download some of the mixes he's posted. They're good. I'll be posting a mix on their blog sometime in the next week and hopefully, he'll do the same on the Passion. Thanks for the kind e-mails of support and for all the hateful comments that called for my head on a platter. Both were equally entertaining.

MP3: Deerhunter-"Wash Off"

Tunng-Good Arrows

2007-08-29T04:14:00.000-04:00

While the blogosphere hyperventilates about the leak of the new Devendra Banhart album, Smokey Goes to Bear Mountain, Grows a Beard and Has an Orgy with 14 Girls Named Rain Who Have Hairy Arm Pits and Went to Vassar, another, far better folk album has gone practically unnoticed: Tung's Good Arrows.

I attribute the lack of attention alloted to the London-based sextet, to the fact that the name Tunng inevitably conjures up nightmarish images of unappetizing sandwiches that you may or may not find at your local overpriced delicatessen. But rest assured that along with Monkey Swallows the Universe's similarly excellent, The Casket Letters (see Ian Mathers' outstanding Stylus review), the Tunng album is one of the best folk records made this year, one that proves that in the year 2007 the Brits apparently have a monopoly on good but melancholy folk bands with really stupid names.

Just 42 minutes, Good Arrows is a collection of 11 beautiful wistful meditations; acoustic guitars fleshed out by patches of electronic tinkering that beef up the record's frail sound and help brighten its down-tempo mood. The band has been compared to the Beta Band and Four Tet and I'd say those comparisons are apt. Though unlike those two bands, Tunng don't really make stoner headphone trips, but instead craft soothing music for the come-down, when the high has worn off and you need a record to stop your thoughts from careening like pinballs. Plus, if you cop it, you'll get the chance to approach a record store clerk and ask him or her for some Tunng. And really, how many times are you gonna' get to do that in your life without getting arrested?

Buy Good Arrows

Download:
MP3: Tunng-"Bricks"

From 2006's Comments of the Inner Chorus
MP3: Tunng-"Woodcat"

From 2005's Mothers Daughters and Other Songs
MP3: Tunng-"Tale from Black"

B-Side from "The Pioneer" Single
MP3: Tunng-"Pool Beneath the Pond"

The Beat Generation: Will I Ain't

2007-08-28T05:02:00.000-04:00

Zilla Rocca, the mastermind behind Beat Garden Entertainment and 1/2 of Clean Guns, (the most OCD fire-arms in the history of automatic weaponry) has returned to once again grace us with his presence. He dedicates this rant to David Banner and Peedi Crakk for respectively melting Al Sharpton's crusade to censor lyrics and for calling Papoose out for flat-out sucking.

I first came across Will I Am (aka Wyclef on a budget) back in the late 90s when Black Eyed Peas' "Joints and Jams" appeared on the Bullworth soundtrack. Like any hip hop head, the song and video was a breath of fresh air during a time dominated by Ruff Ryders and No Limit Soldiers. The Peas were actual b-boys doing actual b-boy shit in their videos—paying homage to hip hop’s past while breaking and spitting the most basic, kindergarten rhymes I’ve ever heard.

But who cared at that point? Hell, The Peas even managed to get a joint from Premier for their second album. And they certainly weren’t as pompous as The Roots, so they had no reason to generate any type of feelings from me. Hell, I didn’t even bat an eye when will.i.am put out an instrumental CD on BBE alongside Pete Rock and J Dilla (yes, this actually happened).

Of course that all changed with “Where is The Love?” And then “Let’s Get Retarded”—oops, I mean “Let’s Get it Started” (can’t piss off the NBA). And then “Shut Up.” And then “My Humps.” And that song no one liked but was on those damn Best Buy commercials where they jacked the theme from Pulp Fiction.

Anyway, the Peas existed for Top 40 radio. (They still receive NO LOVE by mix show DJ’s, mixtape DJ’s, most urban radio stations, most hip hop mags, etc.) As long as I could ignore them, I didn’t care about the fact that their lyrics sounded as though they were written by Young MC after being thrown down a flight of stairs and beaten with burning hammers. Nor did I have to endure their trite “conscious” side or their “positive and fun” (read: gimmicky) production and hooks.

But Have Fergie and Stifler's Mom Ever Been Seen in the Same Place at the Same Time?

And then suddenly, some record label exec had an epiphany; “Why don’t we get that rasta-looking guy from that group with the white girl who just made us $50 million to produce all of these other rappers on our roster?” Thus began my single-handed desire to see will.i.am (aka K-os in poverty) be gone. The problem with Will producing other artists is that he’s only good at one thing: making simple, shiny, catchy beats and hooks for a white girl who pees herself. Forget that, he’s REALLY good at that kind of music. (That Sergio Mendes album he did for Starbucks isn’t that bad either).

But once he gets into the studio with The Game or Common or or Nas, he's exposed as a gimmicky b-boy whose style is straight Silly Putty. You want some lifeless, fake Dilla/?uestlove ambient noodling? Listen to the will.i.am joint on Common’s new album (I literally can’t remember the name of the song) if you REALLY want to hear “Stakes is High” replayed on a Rhodes and then really, really sucking ass, listen to that song on The Game’s last album. And the joint he did on Justin Timberlake’s album sounded like what happens when Pharrell gets less than $50,000 for a track. And let’s not even talk about “I Love My Bitch.”

When I hear songs like “Hip Hop is Dead” or “Fergalicious,” it’s like listening to the hip hop version of the king of ADD comedy, Dane Cook. While Cook packs jokes while telling jokes about a joke that started with two jokes and ending in a pile of jokes. Will.i.am (aka Whoopi’s forgotten son) jam-packs these songs with 342 breaks, interludes, bridges, hooks, pauses, live drums, sampled drums, Spanish innuendos, chopped and screwed vocals, etc. In the end, you can’t remember anything but the hook. Instead of the above mentioned artists going to the real source for actual hip hop-inspired hip hop (i.e. Pete Rock, Diamond D, DJ Scratch, Premier), Will.i.am gets the nod because he wears velvet jackets and riding boots and sells 56 million ringtones.

So Will...The Way I See It...If Adding One Cracker to the Group Doubled Your Sales, Adding A Second Cracker Will Quadruple Them. I Mean, C'mon, I Can't Be Worse Than Apl De. Ap. Can I?

Yeah, He may be an ill breakdancer and he may have been signed by Eazy-E back in the 90s, but will.i.am makes Diet Coke Rap Beats. And don’t even get me started on the movie Be Cool. There’s a truly cringe-worthy scene where John Travolta and Uma Thurman revise their famous dancing scene from Pulp Fiction to the sounds of…”Sexy” by Black Eyed Peas.

Peep will.i.am’s verse Mind you, these rhymes were written by a 30+ year old man whose been signed since the early 90s. Whose name wasn't Cam’ron. Or R. Kelly. Or K7.

Behold:

“You take me to ecstasy

Without takin' ecstasy

It’s exactly like ecstasy

When you layin right next to me

I'm sexin' you, sexin' you

You sexin' me, sexin' me

It's feels so damn natural

But we doin' so naturally

I'm liking you
rubbin' me

And you liking me rubbin' you”

To quote Shawn Carter, what more can I say?

Download: (Because It's Okay, Everyone Kinda' Liked That First Album)

MP3: Black Eyed Peas-"Joints and Jams"
MP3: Black Eyed Peas-"Que Dices?"

Sometimes I Get Kinda' Peeved at These Weak M.C.'s

2007-08-27T02:45:00.000-04:00

If you happened to read my Fuck Yeah Fest preview in the LA Weekly, you may have noticed the "Fuck Nah" section, where I took a rather tame jab at the band Deerhunter. I've written about these guys before , so I don't feel the need to reiterate my sentiments. Besides, I think the entry below aptly summarizes my feelings.

Fuck Nah - Deerhunter

"Deerhunter’s live show reminds me of the first scene in Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure, where Bill and Ted awkwardly flail at their instruments while bitching elliptically about the necessity of making a triumphant video to get Eddie Van Halen to teach them how to play guitar. Nowadays, you don’t even need a triumphant video, you just need a good Pitchfork review, which is what the Atlanta noise-rock outfit Deerhunter got earlier this year. Suddenly, in an Emperor’s New Clothing–esque turn, a group whose biggest discernible talent is its knack for self-promotion became one of the biggest buzz bands in indie rock. Let’s hope that, in the span between now and the Fuck Yeah Fest, George Carlin can drop down to Earth in a phone booth and teach them how to no longer be bogus."

Now did I say that Deerhunter are the worst live band I've ever seen? No. Are they? Definitely. Did I call them a cut-rate indie Marilyn Manson? No, but I probably should've. But that's besides the point. You see Friday morning, lo and behold, I received an e-mail from Deerhunter lead singer Bradford "40 Year-Old Virgin" Cox. At first, I was planning on keeping the correspondence between us, figuring that it was the more mature and professional thing thing to do. Of course, since Cox is neither of those two things, he posted the entire exchange on his blog. Since none of you guys actually read the Deerhunter blog, (I imagine you probably aren't much interested in quasi-child porn and poop), I'll re-post it here in honor of my buddy, Bradford Cox, a class act nonpareil.

A Portrait of the (Con) Artist as a Young Man?

On 8/24/07, Bradford Cox wrote:

its bradford! from deerhunter! i was just wondering if maybe you
could give us some quick EMERGENCY lessons on our instruments
before our set sunday. we are kind of nervous... you know L.A. = big
city = could be our big break. we don't want to look stupid so if you
could just teach the guitar players some basic power chords or
something it would really help us out. i'll be busy giving blowjobs to other
more talented (notable) music journalists so as to keep those good reviews
rolling in.

look forward to seeing you this weekend :D
your pal,
brad

On Aug 24, 2007, at 12:54 PM, Jeff Weiss wrote:

I could respond to your e-mail sarcastically, but I won't.

I could lace this thing with expletives but what's the point?

The fact is that you are probably in one of the most critically
acclaimed bands out right now. Why care so much about one
writer who doesn't care for your music? Is it really worth your time to
write sarcastic e-mails? It's not going to change my mind or hurt my
feelings. I'm sorry you have such a low self-worth and lack of
confidence in your band.

Do you really think you make some form of populist music that
EVERYONE will like. To quote Wayne's World: Led Zeppelin didn't write
songs that everyone liked. They left that to the Bee Gees. That's a
joke. You're supposed to laugh. Or do you even have a sense of humor?

I really have no interest in continuing some sort of stupid
beef. I'm not the kind of person that carries grudges. I make jokes and I
write about music. That's about it. I'm sorry you don't find them funny.
Unlike you, I've gotten used to the fact that I can't be everything to
all the people all the time.

So good luck at the show this weekend. Have fun in the "big
city," and remember not to bite on those music-journalist blowjobs.

Sincerely,
Jeff Weiss

On 8/24/07, Bradford Cox wrote:

you do realize that everything you wrote just now was much
funnier than your article? i. am. joking. around.
but i will fight you.
and having low self worth is what i make a living from.

bradford

p.s. on a serious note does all of your writing somehow manage to
reference early 90's stoner comedy? i.e. bill and ted / wayne's
world? if so you are a genius...

On Aug 24, 2007, at 3:38 PM, Jeff Weiss wrote:

do you really want to fight me? Because I will fight you. I
promise.

And no, in addition to referencing 90s stoner comedy, sometimes, I
mention Dennis Cooper. I hear he's the cat's meow.

On 8/24/07, Bradford Cox wrote:
you don't want to bring dennis cooper into this. next thing you
know you'll be getting raped and disemboweled. he's into freaky shit.

On Aug 24, 2007, at 3:52 PM, Jeff Weiss wrote:

sounds like a fun Friday night activity. Does this sort of thing
cost money or is it gratis?

On 8/24/07, Bradford Cox wrote:

its free but you have to sign a contract so vice can film it and use
your likeness on their website. do you have good lawyers?

On Aug 24, 2007, at 3:55 PM, Jeff Weiss wrote:

I'm Jewish. Duh.

On 8/24/07, Bradford Cox wrote:

is everyone in L.A. jewish?

Jeff Weiss Wrote:

Just the Jews.

In Response to Your Question Linus, the answer is Vanity Googling Themselves 5,432 Times a Day

Ultimately, I sort of feel bad for the little guy. It must be tough to constantly have to contrive new gimmicks to shock hipsters, troll the Internet narcissistically searching for any and all criticism, and go through life looking like Mr. Burns from the X-Files episode of The Simpons where Homer and the people of Springfield mistake him for a space alien. It must be a bitch finding the time to practice.

I Bring You Love...I Bring You Peace

Now That I'm Back to Normal, I Bring You Fear, Famine, Pestilence...

I imagine Grandmaster B was just kidding when he offered to fight me (something just tells me he just isn't the rugged outdoorsy type), but if by some chance you were serious, feel free to give me a call, pal. Maybe a boxing match? A little something on pay-per-view? Maybe your more "talented and notable" friends can sponsor it. If at first they refuse, I'm sure we can figure out a way that you can convince them (wink wink, nudge, nudge). Hope you had a great time in Los Angeles this weekend and good luck with your career. You'll need it. Just be sure to stock up on the chapstick.

Download:
MP3: The Notorious BIG-"What's Beef?"

Echo Park...Fuck Yeah?

2007-08-24T04:14:00.001-04:00

This weekend is the fourth annual Fuck Yeah Fest, two nights full of freaky, eclectic music determined to prove once and for all, that hipsters know how to fuck. Or something. I've never heard of 1/4 of the bands slated to play, but at the very least, they all promise to be interesting. I've done a very strange preview for the LA Weekly, breaking down the acts into three categories: Fuck Yeah, Fuck Eh, and Fuck Nah. Needless to say, the Fuck Nah category involves me drawing an analogy between Deerhunter and the first scene of Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. Does it involve a man named Rufus and/or the word "bogus?" You'll have to click below to find out.

Preview of Fuck Yeah Fest at The LA Weekly

Download:
MP3: Indian Jewelry-"Lesser Snake"
MP3: Indian Jewelry-"Health and Wellbeing"

MP3: Wooden Shjips-"Shrinking Moon for You"

So-Crates Johnson Presents This Week's Links

I'm sure most of you guys have seen it already, but Sach Orenstein's Living with Baduizm feature at Oh Word is a must read.

Berkeley Place is looking for your votes on the Top 10 Modern Film Soundtrack Singles. Hopefully, "Wu-Wear" counts.

Paul Tao, the man behind Hate Something Beautiful and I Am Sound Records is putting out a single of Nico Vega's "Cocaine Cooked the Brain." Go here for details to find out if those
"Just Say No to Drugs" ads from the 80's were actually true.

Floodwatch and From Da Bricks collaborate to decide the Top 5 Best Pete Rock remixes (with Mp3's)

Skeet on Mischa has been blogging regularly again, which maketh me glad (yes, maketh).

The Assimilated Negro breaks down "Silent Treatment" from the Roots' Do You Want More?

Circa 45 posts on the original vinyl single for the Flaming Lips' "She Don't Use Jelly" a song forever enshrined in pop culture lore, thanks to a 90210 Peach Pit performance so good that even Steve Sanders had to admit he liked it, despite "not being all that into this alternative rock."

10 Reasons Why You Should Come to Now Blog This Tonight

2007-08-23T03:33:00.000-04:00

10. Because if you don't come, Aaron Kyle, lead singer of Le Switch, will actually beat you with le switch.

9. Because if you don't, I will cry myself to sleep tomorrow night. And by cry, I mean drink.

8. Because if you don't, The Deadly Syndrome will actually give you a Deadly Syndrome. I'm not sure which one yet, but don't rule out Anthrax.

7. Because there is no possible way that the show can be as bad as its name.

6. To see if Aquarium Drunkard can actually drink an entire Aquarium's worth of liquor. I wouldn't bet against him.

5. To see Kevin Bronson get as buzzed as the name of his column would suggest.

4. To hear Jax from Rock Insider and Joe from Radio Free Silverlake spinning between sets. And juggling.

3. Because though I've never actually met the good folk from LA Underground, judging from the seedy connotations of their name, they would seem to be excellent people to score drugs from (and by drugs, I actually mean drugs).

2. For the opportunity to see me do a live and possibly spontaneous rant about hipsters in fedoras. And more importantly, for the opportunity to see whether or not I actually have enough pull to get the doorman to turn away the wanna-be Humphrey Bog-tards.

1. So in ten years, when all the bands on this bill are playing really big venues and engaging in Motley Crue-esque levels of debauchery, you can tell all your friends that you saw them way back when. (Provided that you don't tell them that the show was called Now Blog This, they'll totally think you're awesome).

The show starts at 9 and it's only $5. Phoenix and the Turtle go on at 9:30, Le Switch at 10:15, The Deadly Syndrome at 11:00 and Aushua at 11:45. Be there or be a quadrilateral.

Download:
MP3: The Deadly Syndrome-"Eucalyptus"
MP3: The Deadly Syndrome-"Winter in You"

MP3: Le Switch-"Tongue Tied"
MP3: Le Switch-"Living in Another World"

Download tracks at Aushua's Myspace

Phoenix and the Turtle on Myspace

Great Scott: Green with Angry

2007-08-22T01:50:00.000-04:00

Scott Towler has returned once again, this time with an official name for his column: "Great Scott" selected in honor of an expression popularized by a slightly eccentric Hill Valley scientist named Dr. Emmett Lathrop Brown. It's also called Great Scott because Scott is descended from Ivan the Great (as well as Ivan the Terrible)

It all started with a memo that we received here at Scrubs last week encouraging all shows to "Go Green." They listed a variety of ways that we could make changes to better the environment, and even had us appoint a "Green Team Captain" in our production office. His or her job would then be to report back to ABC on the progress we were making as a show.

They were simple things at first: encouraging car pooling, recycling plastic, aluminum, glass and paper products, and finding and kidnapping Ed Begley Jr. and making him do all the work for us. But did it stop there? Of course not. So I got my hands on the "Green Team" handbook which raised some questions. Most importantly: why hadn't this been electronically distributed to everyone on staff? Not just here at Scrubs, but everywhere, from ABC to NBC, even to the succubus known as CBS. Why wasn't this 'handbook' published independently and then handed out to anyone that works in the business? Did other studios and lots have their own policies. And if they did, does smoking weed count as being green-friendly?

Needless to say, I had lofty goals. Since ABC was spearheading the "going green" contest, I assumed they'd be more than willing to meet and talk about it. Naturally, that would allow us to discuss, in depth, just what they were trying to achieve. So I called ABC. Twice. I emailed their point person, who shall remain nameless, and didn't hear back. So I emailed him again and got a two line response: "Let's do this with Jane Doe, our PR person. Kudos!" Great. Thanks for those kudos'. I emailed back requesting the PR person's name and still never heard back, so I took it one step further and emailed ABC's green team directly. even emailing them the list of questions I had, in hopes that they would read them. I am sad to say that as of 12:00 o'clock noon on Friday, August 17, 2007 I've yet to hear a word. I suppose that's what I get for writing it in Aramaic.

Converting to Rastafarianism? Tacitly Encouraged at ABC Studios

So this is the dichotomy: a company that cares enough about the environment to create Green 'legislature,' but doesn't care enough to speak with someone who wants to actively spread the word about what they're doing. Because of that, I'm not really sure that ABC gets the picture . Moreover, if they do, they certainly aren't practicing what they preach. And I know it's a bad move to bite the hand that feeds you, but this is an important issue. One that should be taken even more seriously by the huge economic and pop-culture influences in the world today and not just Leonard "Really I'm Deep, I Swear" DiCaprio.

Instead, I sit here considering how of all the industries in Los Angeles, Entertainment (at large) creates the 2nd most amount of pollution in the city. Think about that. All the cars, all the dirty streets and problems...the entertainment industry helps make it happen. And not just because of Rush Hour 3. So ABC, after resuming to respond to me I can only assume that you're more talk than Larry King and Tom Leykis locked in room with nothing but credit cards, mirrors and mountains of cocaine. At a time when ABC should be acting on their words, they're just playing the Hollywood game and only caring about appearance. Which is strange because it never seemed to matter all those years when they showed According to Jim.

Download:
MP3: Lord Quasimoto-"Greenery"
MP3: Goodie Mobb-"Greeny Green"

Beards, Blazers & Glasses: Sunset Junction

2007-08-21T01:08:00.001-04:00

A few years ago, Sunset Junction was all leather-clad gay guys (some resembling South Park’s Mr. Slave) bumping shoulders with the area's primarily Hispanic residents. It was sort of like going to a Morrissey concert. But things are different now: the first wave of gentrification came and went, transforming these formerly dicey gang-ridden blocks into a bohemian enclave, flooded with coffee shops, designer boutiques and the bearded, bespectacled hipstacrites who love them.

Today, the Junction is hirsute Hollywood ex-pats rocking $100 fedoras and 15-year girls dressed like Corey Kennedy straining for a glimpse of hometown indie pin-up boy Alex "Sea Wolf" Church after hearing “You’re a Wolf” on Indie 103 and catching the video on MTV2. I suppose indie is the new grunge (which makes Page France the new Collective Soul...kidding....kinda), but I don't see what that has to do with dudes in designer hats. Newsflash hipster males: you aren't Humphrey Fucking Bogart. And hipster females, you look more Britney than Bacall.

But I digress, there I was stumbling around incoherently at 5:45, shortly after Sea Wolf had finished his 40-minute performance, in the process whipping the Junior High set into a sweaty hormonal hysteria (it was the Teen Wolf cover of "Big Bad Wolf" that did it). The sun was starting to tilt, the beer line was starting to scream my name (in Dutch, as it was sponsored by Amstel), I was excited to see Autolux for the first time since they opened for The White Stripes a few years ago at the Greek.

Overcoming Sound Difficulties: The Autolux of the Irish

Autolux is probably LA's most critically well-regarded band for two reasons. The first is that they're obviously influenced by Sonic Youth and critics always like bands influenced by Sonic Youth unless they sound too much like Sonic Youth. The other reason is that they're actually good. However, they started slow tonight, with the first few songs plagued by sound problems and maybe a bit of nerves. But drawing on their Future Perfect material, they soon hit their stride, with drummer/singer Carla Azar delivering poltergeist vocals blanketed in thick white noise, lead guitarist/singer, Greg Edwards playing the Thurston Moore role and crushing sludgy stoner guitar licks like a Creation shoegazer band after smoking some New York Soul Diesel.

Next, was Blonde Redhead, who other than Sonic Youth might've been the most logical band to follow Autolux. I saw Blonde Redhead once when they opened for Interpol at the Grand Olympic Auditorium. I liked them well enough, but I walked away disappointed that they had neither blondes nor redheads. That's blatant false advertising. Take a look at The Parson Redheads. They have at least two people in the band at all times with red hair.

Yeah, yeah, I know what you're going to say. Blonde Redhead are underground legends, how dare I not know much about them, why don't I just lock myself up in the closet with nothing but a pair of shoes and shoegaze until I go blind. I get it. My excuse (if I have one) has to do with the fact that I didn't go to Vassar and thus am instinctively am wary of bands fronted by female Japanese art-rock students with squeaky voices (not a gender or a racial thing, it's a Deerhoof thing). But watching their hour-long performance, it's safe to say I've drank the Blonde Red Kool-Aid. They were flat-out spectacular.

Blonde Redhead: They Have Neither Blondes Nor Redheads...Discuss

Front-woman Kazu Makino is effortless on-stage and attractive in a Yoko Ono but actually hot sort of way. Grandmaster Kaz has no need for the histrionic affectations of Karen O, she's all loose limbs and smoothness, slinging the guitar across her shoulders, and unleashing her frail gorgeous wail across the miasma of concrete and fedoras stretching across Sunset Blvd. Lead guitarist, co-lead singer and Wayne Coyne look-a-like, Amadeo Pace played Makino’s perfect foil, delivering rumbling messy guitars and haunting vocals that balanced out the attack. The set was transcendent, drawing heavily from this year’s excellent 23 and reminding me a bit of Love’s set three years ago: a legendary underground band rising above the cluttered bedlam of the Junction and delivering a set for the ages, a performance unlikely to be topped all weekend.

By the time I returned from a short interlude at Weiss headquarters (a mere three blocks from the festivities), Ben Harper was performing, with a crowd that epitomizing the new Sunset Junction (now with $400,000 luxury condos): frat boys and ersatz rockers from Malibu, sorority girls cloaked in Kitson and of course, the old-guard, seemingly a bit confused as to when the Sunset Junction became the Sunset Strip. As for the bearded set, most were long gone by this point, shuddering at the thought of getting their eyes poked out by a stray incense stick being wielded by a Harper-loving hippie. To further compound the troubles was the fact that despite organizers charging a whopping $15 for entrance, they ran out of drink tickets by 9:00, meaning that the crowd was forced to endure a hippie-music show stone-sober. Egads.

As for Harper, I’ll be the first one to admit I know absolutely nothing about his music. I actually purchased one of his DVD’s for a girlfriend once, but we broke up before I could give it to her. I was too lazy to return it and now it hangs on my DVD shelf like a dread-locked albatross. Naturally, it remains unopened. Live, Harper was no slouch on the guitar and was even sorta' interesting when he indulged his funk and reggae side. But when he veered back to straight-forward rock n’ roll, well...the beer was out and so was I. Time to head home.

Download:
MP3: Autolux-"Turnstile Blues"
MP3: Blonde Redhead-"23"

Where You Should Be This Thursday

2007-08-20T22:33:00.001-04:00

Because if not, myself, Aquarium Drunkard, Kevin Bronson and the good folks behind LA Underground will find you, track you down and force you to have better taste in music.

Go to LA Underground for MP3's of the all the bands involved.

Black Lips- Good Evil Not Bad Evil

2007-08-20T00:31:00.000-04:00

There was no garage rock revival.The Strokes made a great first album, but the only garage those kids have ever seen houses six cars or more. The White Stripes had and continue to have a brilliant career but they're not exactly beer-swilling teenagers cranking out Stooges riffs in the basement. The Hives? Well, they're Swedish and thus discounted because their garages are made from Ikea. And I think we all can agree to never speak of The Vines, Von Bondies and Jet ever again.

Consequently, you don't hear about garage rock anymore. Like dance-punk after it, it turned out to be less of a movement than a few good bands that came about about at the same time and shared a lo-fi, crude and powerful sound. Truth be told, though they'd never admit it, it's the oldest trick in the music crit book, slap on a "movement" tag on a couple bands, get the hype machine rolling and pray for that sales uptick. (And if you don't believe me, check back here in a few years when "Nu-Rave" is even more of punchline than it already is).

So if The Black Lips had made Good Evil Not Bad Evil six years ago, I'm sure every critic would've shouted from the rooftops that you needed to hear it. It's raw agressive and steeped in a primal psychadelia, a flat-out dirty record (in the good, Motley Crue kind of way, and not the bad, Christina Aguilera way). In the vein of the 13th Floor Elevators and the Nuggets comp, Good Evil is a weird and wild ride. It's also one the best rock records of year. So if you're getting burnt out on sad "indie" caterwauling and want something that sounds it should be chased with a shot of Cuervo, these guys get my vote of confidence.

Download:
MP3: Black Lips-"Cold Hands"
MP3: Black Lips-"Not a Problem" (live from Tijuana)

Passion Play-Ill Eagle the Anti-Rapper

2007-08-17T05:25:00.001-04:00

Passion Play is a sometime column designed to highlight exceptional unsigned acts. This does not mean you should send me your demo. In all honesty, I probably won't listen to it. Unless of course, you are in EPMD and the demo includes the song "Please Listen to My Demo." In that case, rock rock on.

Who: Ill Eagle the Anti-Rapper

What: (The story of Ill-Eagle in his own words)
Ill Eagle has never been shot. In fact, at age 21 he's never even been shot at, which is extraordinary for many young Black males from Gary, Indiana. Ill Eagle didn't intend to be such an exception, a virtual weirdo in a town once called the Murder Capital of the United States.

When you're avoiding gangs and ignoring poverty from the world around you, sometimes all you can do is turn inside and embrace the creative world within. With tastes that stretch from Tiesto to Tchiakovsky, Tech N9ne to The Sex Pistols, Ill Eagle brings a fresh approach to hip-hop that defies common comparison. This is rap for a new generation: diverse, irreverent, real without pretention yet honest and humorous. This is music for the soundtrack of life, sometimes serious, sometimes fun, always memorable.

Where: Gary, Indiana.

When: Ill Eagle's debut LP, The Wilhelm Scream dropped earlier this year to praise from the likes of 33 Jones, Souled on Music, and Model Minority. It remains unclear whether the record has anything to do with Kaiser Wilhelm and/or The Scream.

Why:Say what you want about a guy like Kanye West (and believe me, I think he's as overrated as anyone), you can't dismiss him because the way of the way in which he defies easy labels or categorization. It's that same reason why I think Ill Eagle is one of the most promising MC's to debut this year. Everything about the guy resists easy descriptor tags: he's from the hood but he doesn't front like a gangster. He's a self-described "reverse wigger" who lists Nirvana, Wu-Tang, Bjork and Daft Punk as his heroes. Many of his songs rail against crack-rap's lies and the lying liars who tell them, yet many of his raps come over beats that wouldn't sound out of place on a Young Jeezy record.

A common knock against most underground records is their conservatism, with most underground producers solely trying to recycle neo-Tribe Called Quest coffee-shop beats or 9th Wonder/Kanye West soul loops. Most underground rappers spend their 50 minutes of screen time describing themselves only in opposition of what they're not. By contrast, The Wilhelm Scream seems remarkably forward-thinking, with beats ranging from bass-heavy Southern bangers to year 3000 space-rap beats a la Automator or Timbaland-lite. Lesser MCs would struggle with such challenging soundscapes but Ill Eagle handles them admirably, preternaturally understand whether to fall back into the pocket of a beat and ride it out, or when to step up aggressively to smash it over the head like a game of Whack-A-Mole (no The Mole.)

The album isn't perfect. Some of the hooks could be better and some of the beats are just a bit too abrasive. But when Ill Eagle isn't wasting his time railing about crack-rappers and focuses the attention inward, he's a uniquely compelling artist. Sort of like Murs if he'd grown up in the Midwest and really liked Bloc Party. It's an impressive debut, particularly for a kid just out of his teens living in the middle of nowhere. While the best may be yet to come, Ill Eagle has the potential to be a three-dimensional personality, someone with something to say, one who figures to be worth paying attention to for a long while.

Download:
MP3: Ill Eagle-"Warhol Superstar"
MP3: Ill Eagle-"Burn Out> Fade Away"

Download the entire album for free at Ill Eagle's Myspace

Thoughts on Wild Style on its 25 Year Anniversary

2007-08-16T04:27:00.000-04:00

A few weeks ago, Noz posted some must-see You Tube links to a documentary called 80 Blocks From Tiffany's. Taking an honest look at late 70s Bronx Gangs, the Savage Skulls and the Savage Nomads, the documentary simultaneously provided a rarely seen window into the womb of early hip-hop and motivated me to dust off an old VHS copy of 1982's Wild Style, to take a look back at the first and arguably the most important hip-hop film ever made.

By standards of any conventional film, Wild Style is terrible. The plot is thin, an unclear tale of a guy named "Zorro" (real-life graf legend Lee Quinones) who seems to only really want two things in life: his girl to like him and to be able to spray-paint a really cool mural in time for a big party in the local amphitheater. The dialogue is even worse and the acting maybe worst of all. But watching Wild Style for its craft is like listening to Weird Al for the gut-wrenching confessionals: completely fucking pointless (unless you interpret "Amish Paradise" as a frank depiction of Yankovich's struggles with his faith).

Wild Style's brilliance stems from the Grecian Urn-like way that Charlie Ahearn's cameras forever capture a critical moment in musical history. Shot in a verite style, the film reveals the ravaged South Bronx at the turn of the Reagan years as an impoverished and practically lawless slum of burn-out buildings and vacant lots. More importantly, the film reveals the astonishing creativity of hip-hop's creators: adidas-clad breakers dazzling crowds, afro'd teenagers bombing Day-Glo murals onto subway cars, legendary hip-hop crews moving crowds, DJ's inventing new break-beats to rap over daily.

Fab Five Freddy Told Me Everybody's High

Crazy Legs and the Rock Steady Crew take over parties performing moves that seemingly defy the limitations of human anatomy. Grandmaster Flash and Grand Wizard Theodore man turn-tables with the utmost precision, setting the table for legendary MC's like the Fantastic 5 and The Cold Crush. Whenever the filmmakers figure out that no one cares about Zorro and his woman (no Catherine Zeta-Jones) and instead depict the nascent art form, it's transfixing. In particular, a short basketball court battle between Cold Crush and Fantastic 5 should be required viewing for anyone who's ever liked Wu-Tang or Jurassic 5 at one point (read: everyone reading this sentence).

But the parties themselves steal the show, as Wild Style's bashes rank with Teen Wolf and Revenge of the Nerds as some of the finest party sequences in celluloid history. At the center of it all, are performances of some of hip-hop's earliest anthems, ready-made party cuts ideal for rocking the massive crowds already starting to gather. Critics often defend the cynical vacuity as of ring-tone rappers like Young Joc, Young Berg, or Young Yung (he's already huge in Miami), as hip-hop returning to its party music roots. But unlike most modern rappers' hackneyed attempts to write a huge hook to move units, the early rappers performed with a sense of spontaneity and artistic purity. Most importantly, the songs and the music are just fun. (I apologize in advance you find listening to "Sexy Lady" fun. Might I suggest a Cold Crush Brothers tape and/or a cold bath.)

Sure, it's slightly reductive to pine wistfully for days that you don't even remember, days that obviously won't return. But it's impossible not to get a bit nostalgic for a period when hip-hop was more MC Melle Mel than MC Rove. Not to say that there aren't artists today continuing to build and expand upon the culture as depicted in Wild Style. Of course, there are. But if nothing else, it's interesting to take a look back and see how far the genre has come in the 25 years since.

Download from the Wild Style Soundtrack
MP3: The Cold Crush Brothers Vs. The Fantastic 5-"Basketball Throwdown"
MP3: Grandmaster Caz-"South Bronx Subway Rap"
MP3: Fab Five Freddy-"Down By Law"

Send Me An Angel: Shallow Ruminations on the Los Angeles Angels As Gleaned From Their Pre-At Bat Music

2007-08-15T04:08:00.000-04:00

Though I grew up less than an hour away, last weekend was only the second Angel game I've ever attended. It's not like I hate the Angels or anything, it's more that loving the Cincinnati Reds and hating the Los Angeles Dodgers has always occupied the majority of the time I spend consciously thinking about professional baseball (the five minutes every morning when I read the sports page).

But I'm re-considering my apathy after having such a good experience at the ballpark. Unlike the Dodgers and Frank "I Will Wring Every Last Penny Out of My Franchise" McCourt, the Angels have cheap beer, good food and a team that actually knows how to play baseball. That's enough to make me a fan. But more importantly, after listening to each player's pre-at bat "theme music," I feel as though I have a window into their souls (one that is very murky and very cracked).

Chone Figgins:

Song Choices: Rick Ross-"Push It" and J-Kwon-"Tipsy"

What it Tells Us About Chone Figgins: That the only thing that could possibly stop Figgins from having a career year is a drug test. Between Ross' Scarface-sampling ode to coke dealing and J-Kwon's paean to the virtues of everybody in the club getting tipsy, Figgins may or may not have a substance abuse problem. Either that or he writes for the Village Voice.

Download:
MP3: Rick Ross-"Push It" (left-click)

Orlando Cabrera:

Song Choices: Jay-Z-"Threat" and Rose Royce-"Carwash"

What it tells us about Orlando Cabrera-In addition to being a gold glove caliber shortstop and a solid hitter, the Colombian-born Orlando Cabrera enjoys, carwashes, Richard Pryor and the funk. As for the choice of "Threat" it simultaneously manages to be a good song and warn the pitcher that the Cabrera is indeed "a threat." Additionally, it might also be tangible proof of the Columbian ties that Jay-Z has long bragged about.

Download:
MP3: Rose Royce-"Carwash" (left-click)

Vladimir Guerrero

Song Choice: Something with congas and electric piano with Spanish gibberish shouted over it.

What it tells us about Vladimir Guerrero-That Dave Chappelle was right.

Maicer Itzuris

Song Choice-Some crappy unintelligible reggaeton song.

What it tells us about Maicer Itzuris: Very little, other than reiterating the fact that reggaeton is perhaps the worst musical genre invented since polka. Itzuris, too may have a shot at a lucrative post-MLB career writing for the Voice and/or Pitchfork. Hell, I'm sure he'd be welcome at Stylus too come to mention it.

Garret Anderson
Song Choice-EPMD-"You Gots to Chill"

What it Tells us About Garret Anderson: Anderson shows why he's one of the greatest players in franchise history, selecting the classic '88 track, "You Gots to Chill." Whether or not, the song is a subliminal jab at Chone Figgins for trying to play Young Jeezy in the locker room remains unclear. However, what remains clear is that Garret Anderson is really cool, despite the myriad obstacles he's had to overcome in being a black dude named Garret. Which no matter how you slice it, is simply not cool.

Mp3:
Download: EPMD-"You Gots to Chill" (left-click)

You Blockhead

2007-08-14T03:18:00.001-04:00

I wish I had the time to give Blockhead's Uncle Tony' s Coloring Book, the full review treatment, as its one of best hip-hop instrumental records I've heard this year (along with Wax Tailor and Madlib's new Beat Konducta record). But rest assured, if you enjoyed his first two albums, the sorely underrated, Music By Cavelight and Downtown Science, you'll no doubt want to pick up a copy of his new jaunt. It doesn't break any new ground, nor does it need to, it's just 13 soulful, funky beats from one of the finest producers in the game. Released today on Ninja Tune, it comes highly recommended for all fans of hip-hop instrumentalism.

Buy Uncle Tony's Coloring Book

Download:
MP3: Blockhead-"The Strain" (left-click)
MP3: Blockhead-"Grape Nuts and Chalk Sauce" (left-click)

Get 1 more Blockhead track from Analog Giant

Charlie Brown Commands You to Check Out These Links

Barry Schwartz, lead singer of the Passion of the Weiss approved, Disco Vietnam, drops the ridiculously entertaining essay, The Green Day Conspiracy, theorizing that the band did not actually write American Idiot.

Berkeley Place has Clash Covers A to Z

I'm surprised this Raekwon review over at Hip-Hop Dx hasn't been all over the Internet, as it's pretty interesting and it covers everything from Ghost's participation on the new Wu record (he's on it), the status of Only Built for Cuban Linx 2 (summer of '08 now...right) and whether or not Superb wrote Supreme Clientele (obviously not).

Everybody Cares Everyone Understands has a nice write-up on the new and very good Okkervil River record. I'll be seeing them next month and will have more on it then, but the more I hear it, the better that album gets.

The Beat Generation: Beer and Blockbuster

2007-08-13T02:27:00.001-04:00

Zilla Rocca, 1/2 of Clean Guns, and Beat Garden fitness consigliere, has returned to drop some more knowledge on the people. Neither of us are actually sure if knowledge can actually be dropped, nor are we certain whether it hurts when said knowledge is dropped upon you. Probably not.

So was there like some sort of memo that got passed around that I didn't see, because honestly, I've now become convinced that all white girls aged 22-25 drink exclusively Miller Lite. Of course, these are the exact same chicks that in college, hated on the taste of beer because it was "like so gross." The same girls that subsisted on a diet of Malibu and Swedish Fish (with the occasional margarita tossed in the mix).

I see you, Kaitlyn, Brianne and Madison, with your bottles of Miller in your hands. That or a Coors Light. You won't catch me with a can of that girly, watered down shit. And just because females now think it's okay to knock back bottles of that cold piss water, don't think you'll escape my wrath if you're a male and drinking that shit in front of me. To quote Meth: "Ya'll been warned."

Another group of people who need to be warned: Wedding DJ's. I went to a wedding last weekend and the DJ (let's call him Dancin' Ralph) found it perfectly acceptable to get out in the middle of the dance floor, mic in hand, dancing and slapping his own ass while mouthing the lyrics to "It's Raining Men." Sorry, dude, last time, I checked this was a matrimonial ceremony not "Men on Film."

Slapping Your Ass While Singing "Raining Men?" Hated It

To add insult to injury, the DJ broke the cardinal rule of wedding DJ's, by not playing a single slow song throughout the entire reception. C'mon man, everyone knows that slow songs are the Trojan Horse of wedding receptions. Throw on some Celine Dion or Vanessa Williams for three minutes, cue up "It Takes Two," and BAM, instant freak-fest. But not Dancin' Ralph. He wanted to change the game like Hova or MJ. No "Wind Beneath My Wings," no "Love is," not even a mothafuckin' Boyz II Men cut. I felt bad for all the drunken bachelors looking to close the deal with the single and depressed bridesmaids, stuck doing the Soul Train for four fucking hours. You are dead to me, Dancin' Ralph.

Speaking of dead, I've also been wondering how it's possible that Blockbuster isn't. I just got NetFlix and it's pretty much killed all chance of me ever going to a Blockbuster again. Then again, I have no sympathy for them. They killed every independent video store in Philly by carrying 9,084 copies of every movie and if you called ahead, they'd even hold that copy of "Major League 2" on VHS for an hour. Hell, they even sold CD's for a while. I remember copping "Illadelph Halflife" there, while this kid, John, I used to play ball with stole Rage and Cypress Hill CD's. He later got locked up for rape. Seriously.

The last time I was in Blockbuster, it was pretty depressing. All the remaining stores left in South Philly cut themselves in half and rented out the other half to laundromats or wig suppliers. They start selling overstocked used DVD's for $7, with naturally 50 copies of "2 Fast 2 Furious" for every one of "I Heart Huckabees." Whatever, Blockbuster, that's what you get for trying to make me sign up for for your "online store" every time I walk in the door, or your rewards program, or trying to push jumbo-sized bags of M&M's on me like a used car salesmen. Until next time, RIP Blockbuster. God bless Netflix. And burn in Hell, dancing Ralph.

Download:
MP3: Clean Guns-"We Just Run Things" (left-click)
MP3: Clean Guns-"Hold Your Glass High (Wdhq Remix) (left-click)

Because if He Actually Goes Through With It I Will Really Party As Though It Were My Birthday

2007-08-11T04:16:00.001-04:00

So like does this mean I have to pay actual money for the Kanye West CD. Because I will do it. As much I don't want to buy Kanye another conflict-free diamond-studded ivory back scratcher, I'll buy his stupid record just to never have to hear 50 Cent rhyme "bacardi" with "party" again. Though I'm not sure how the world will go on without 50? Did people rap before him? And if so, how did people know what type of champagne to buy or what flavor of Vitamin Water to drink?

Despite All My Rage I'm Still Just a Rat in a Cage

2007-08-10T04:09:00.000-04:00

Hands down Cage has been one of the most interesting interviews I've ever done. Mainly, because the guy is just one of the most brutally candid people you'll ever speak to. Which is one of the many reasons why I think his last record, Hell's Winter is one of the best underground records made in this decade. It's unflinchingly honest without being soft, it's lyrically complex without being pretentious and it's just a flat-out great record.

It's also nice to hear someone who is actually good at rap (read: not rap critics) go on the record to say that most Southern hip-hop, with a few notable exceptions, fucking sucks. As for his thoughts on the record industry, his perspective was equally frank.

"I'm sure the downturn of the industry affects us, but it affects major labels a lot more. It’s a quandary for me because I'm kinda with everyone else, fuck corporate America steal their music, these artists aren’t making that much money off their music via labels so what's wrong with stealing music? The rap industry is falling apart because it's crap. They’ve saturated the game with the same bullshit jingles that mean nothing and you get nothing from it. The huge artists still go platinum. They aren't fucking hurting from it, it's the slave masters who hurt."

Cage in the Arizona Republic

Download:
MP3: Cage-"Shoot Frank" (left-click)
MP3: Cage-"Good Morning" (left-click)

And if you're interested, I also have two more features that ran in the Republic this week:

Paid Dues Preview

Busdriver Feature

He's Gone

2007-08-09T23:11:00.000-04:00

I suppose it's fitting that I didn't even remember that today was the 12th anniversary of Jerry Garcia's death until a friend of mine reminded me a couple hours ago. That's what I get for not checking Hidden Track first thing every morning. Sure enough, when I finally checked in on the duo of Ace Cowboy and Scott Bernstein, they'd already beat me to posting a Jerry tribute (I always thought you hippies were supposed to be poorly organized...damn Hidden Track, always defying my unfounded stereotypes).

Writing a eulogy is rather pointless. It's been done to death and besides the music speaks more eloquently than I could ever hope to write. So download this bootleg of the Dead's classic 11.21.73 show, put on a pair of headphones, light one up and celebrate the life of one of the greatest musicians the world has ever seen.

Download:
Zip: The Grateful Dead-Live at The Denver Coliseum, 11/21/73 (left-click)

The 5 Best Animated Television Shows And Their Subsequent Films

2007-08-09T04:32:00.000-04:00

Scott Towler has returned to us after two weeks in the Andes spent fighting a scourge of Colombian narco-terrorists. He arrives with nothing on his mind but animated content. That and freedom.

5. Cowboy Bebop

To be honest, I'm not sure if this is even the best anime show, but it has been tremendously successful and it did spawn a movie. Besides, if I didn't include a token anime pick, the nerds would find me, toss me into a burlap sack, and beat me with stalks of bamboo. Sure, some might contend that Ghost in the Shell beats it out. Others still might say Pokemon. Those people are what I like to call sphincters. Sphincters who will die a slow and gruesome death.

If you've ever smoked the hippy grass, you need to watch an episode of Cowboy Bebop. Yeah, the concept of intergalactic bounty hunters with a robot dog does seem absurd, but that's what you're high for. Besides, that's not the essence of the show. Think of it as a a modernist action movie. A Japanese G.I. Joe, with more explosions, T & A, and drug use, with dialogue simultaneously frivolous and gritty, realistic and campy. But the reason to watch this show is the art. Forget the characters, just look at the places they dwell: the backdrops and moving images that set the backdrop. Make a bowl of popcorn, let the action unfold. This is a blunted at 2 AM show.

4. The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show

Rocky and Bullwinkle was distinctly ahead of its time in that it successfully roped in both kids and adults and practically invented the animated comedy non-sequitur. Chances are, if you're reading this blog, you haven't seen it. But you're probably familiar with the ensemble: Rocky, Bullwinkle, Sherman, Peabody, Boris, Natasha, and Dudley Do-Right. Aside from the regular 3-act episodes and plot lines that the show regularly boasted, it also offered snippets just as entertaining as the main event. Aside from the aforementioned Sherman and Peabody, they also had fractured fairy tales, and several others. It was a variety show in animated format, done better than nearly all the programming of the era.

Sadly, I can't say the same thing about the film. Usually it's a good sign when a show gets greenlit and turned into a movie. Except when it's live action and starring Renee Russo and Robert DeNiro. doing comedy (Meet the Parents excluded. Inspired thinking guys. Make a live action movie from an animated show, skip over the gen-y kids, and release it before any of the next generation of kids have any idea what's going on. Did anyone see this abysmal flick? Well, if you did, write the studio and get your 11 bucks back.

3. The Flintstones/The Jetsons

Lo and behold, Hollywood decided to do it again with this show (and soon to be AGAIN), putting everyone's favorite nuclear families, The Flintstones and The Jetsons onto the big screen. Of course, we'd be fools not to notice the nearly identical composition of both families: A bumbling father, a reserved wife, a daughter, a son, and a pet/robot. It's not hard to see where The Simpsons took its format from. (And sadly, the rip off artists like Family Guy/American Dad, i.e. the same show). Not to completely knock Family Guy. The first 4 seasons were superb. But I My point's just that when The Simpsons sought a model to work from, they looked to America's first two animated family sitcoms.

These shows had to make the list because they were the first and a whole lot better than a lot of the shitty shows today (Lil Bush, I'm looking at you). With the same animation team handling both, we were able get such inspired work as the classic animated feature The Jetsons meet The Flintstones. Revisiting the movie today might be a mistake. But, not nearly as much as yes, you guessed it, the live action version of The Flintstones. Rosie O'Donnell? Elizabeth Taylor? Crack Coacaine? And to top it off, I hear rumors of a live action Jetsons movie. (With Lindsey Lohan playing Judy Jetson. I keed. I keed. Maybe.)

2. South Park

South Park is one the strongest animated shows ever. In fact, over the past 7 years, South Park has been the best animated show on television. In South Park, Barbara Striesand is a monster, Trapper Keepers pay homage to Terminator II, and a talking towel takes even bong hits bigger than I ever have*. And that's not even from the movie.

Ah yes, the movie. Even though The Simpsons movie was great and a tremendous return to form, but nothing touches the South Park Movie. Nothing. Well, except maybe Beauty and the Beast, but c'mon where's the humor? So a clock dances around while a little tea pot has a child named Chip. Big fucking deal. Where's your bong hits, Beauty in the Beast?

1. The Simpsons

The longest running sitcom of all time. 400 episodes. Branding and franchising like crazy. 18 seasons. Catch phrases, weird voices, archetypal characters, and the largest ensemble cast of any show ever. The Simpsons is #1 hands down. Of course, we can all agree that sometime around season 11 the show took a major nose dive. But still, this is the fucking Simpsons. The show that single-handedly put Fox on the map. By the end of its first season, it was competing against The Cosby Show.

It also boasts one very important fact: this was the first animated show in over 25 years to have a primetime spot. One that paid homage in subtle ways: Adding The Itchy and Scratchy cartoons to reflect the old Warner Bros. cartoons, and lending the middle initial J. to every member of the Simpson family. Why? Think Bullwinkle J. Moose and Rocket J. Squirrel.

Head over to Simpsonize Me and see what you'd look like as a Simpsons character.

* I was blatantly lying. Like any towel could take a bigger bong hit than me.

Free Sunset Rubdown

2007-08-08T03:30:00.000-04:00

One of the main reasons why I blog is to get the opportunity to write headlines involving the phrase "Free Sunset Rubdown." Because nothing says "indie rock" more than vaguely creepy band names that may or may not involve a happy ending. (See also Man Man and The Strokes).

But really. Let's talk Random Spirit Lover for a second. It's really really good. Maybe unbelievably great. I'm not sure yet. I still have some listening to do. Like all Spencer Krug albums, it's not the sort of thing you can really digest in one sitting. His records play like collections of short stories sharing a few stark themes. And they aren't page turners either. He makes the sort of music that demands patience, something that seems antithetical to the sugar-rush grab bag of the digital age.

Thanks to Gorilla Vs. Bear, I became aware of the fact that Jagjaguwar is currently offering up a free MP3 from Random Spirit Lover, the ridiculously titled, "Up on Your Leopard, Upon the End of Your Feral Days." It's not my favorite song from the record, but then again you'd be hard pressed to find anything even remotely poppy on it, so it must have been impossible to try to pick out what the "single" is. The album doesn't come out until October 9th. I'll have the full review when it finally drops. In the meantime, enjoy your Sunset Rubdown. It's certainly not for everyone, but if you're at all into Krug's previous work, I can promise you a happy ending, free of charge.

Download:
MP3: Sunset Rubdown-"Up on Your Leopard, Upon the End of Your Feral Days"

Top 10 Song Titles Rejected by the Shop Boyz

2007-08-07T01:56:00.000-04:00

10. "Shake low like Jello"

Reason why it was Rejected: Rumors of Kraft Foods' litigious nature (see Green Jelly) , force all discussions to be tabled.

9. "It's Hot as a Pot of Rice."

Reason why it was Rejected: Shop Boyz rapper, "Meanie," hates Chinese food.

8. Grind ho's like a rhino"

Reason why it was rejected: None of the label executives knew what it meant.

7. "2 Shakes of a Lamb's Tail."

Reason why it was Rejected: Lambs don't buy ring tones.

6. "Hop like a Toad"

Reason why it was rejected: Homophobic hip-h0p community not yet ready for a song concerning a certain sexually ambiguous Super Mario Bros. character.

Toad: Guardian of the Princess, Psychedelic-Enthusiast, Possible Eunuch

5. Grab Ya' Nutta Butta"

Reason why it was Rejected: Sexual harassment lawsuit in the making.

4. "Honky like a Donky"

Reason why it was Rejected: White people would've liked it TOO much. Particularly in the Greek system.

3. "Pogo like a Togo

Reason why it was Rejected: The Shop Boyz' systematic inability to find Togo on a map.

2. "Let me see your I-Rack"

Reason why it was Rejected: Sounded too much like something Toby Keith would do.

1. "Party like a coke whore."

Reason why it was Rejected: Lindsey Lohan scandal has sullied the once-fine name of coke whores.

Totally dude.

The Top 50 Drummers of All-Time

2007-08-06T02:13:00.000-04:00

Last week, Stylus ran their 50 Greatest Drummers of All-Time list. I handled John Densmore of The Doors and Keith Moon of The Who, two of my personal favorites. My complete ballot looked like this:

1. Keith Moon-The Who
2. John Bonham-Led Zeppelin
3. Charlie Watts-Rolling Stones
4. John Densmore-The Doors
5. Ginger Baker-Cream
6. Topper Headon-The Clash
7. Levon Helm-The Band
8. Mitch Mitchell-Jimi Hendrix Experience
9. Bill Ward-Black Sabbath
10. Chris Frantz-Talking Heads
11. Hugo Burnham-Gang of 4
12. Butch Trucks-Allman Bros.
13. Dave Grohl-Nirvana
14. Glen Kotchke-Wilco
15. Ringo Starr-The Beatles

John Densmore: The Real Johnny Drama

No great drummer was more patient than John Densmore. Steeped in improvisatory jazz, Densmore was always too wise to overpower the Doors’ slow drugged dirges, keeping clockwork time until pouncing at the right moment with a perfect pounding rain of hard drums. If the leading cliché states that the drummer is the backbone of every good band, instead, Densmore was the Doors’ heart: the only thing stopping them from appearing on every toothpaste commercial, the only one willing to stand up to Morrison’s drunken nonsensical tirades, the only one that could really Play. Listen to “The End,” not for its 10^th grade Oedipal poetry, but for Densmore’s dynamic mastery. Drum-sticks like scalpels, carving the song out of an eerie yawning silence. Oh yeah, and he did it all without a bassist.

Download:
MP3: The Doors-"The End"
MP3: The Doors-"When the Music's Over"
MP3: The Doors: "The Wasp (Texas Radio & the Big Beat)"

Keith Moon: BEAT DRUMS! BEAT DRUMS!

If Keith Moon didn’t exist, he would’ve had to have been invented. Hell-bent on self-destruction, Moon embodied rock star cliché down to the last wrecked drum kit, shattered bottle of whisky & Rolls-Royce in the swimming pool. Known to pack his Premier double bass kit with explosives and the occasional goldfish, Moon’s whirling dervish attack could only have been the by-product of a savant-like gift for music coupled with a salient streak of sociopathy. With impossibly fast hands and a preternatural ear for blending surf rock riffs, rhythm and blues jags and a little Gene Krupa, if Moon wasn’t the best drummer in rock history, he’s certainly its most original. The next Keith Moon will never exist. If he did, they’d have medicated him by age 3 and sent him to a separate school away from the rest of the children.

Download:
MP3: The Who-"Young Man's Blues"
MP3: The Who-"I Can See for Miles"
MP3: The Who-"The Ox"

Party Like a Blogster

2007-08-05T17:06:00.000-04:00

So I really was resisting the urge to make some sort of inane punny headline for this Aug. 23 event that I'm co-promoting. Then I realized that the event in question is called Now Blog This V. 2.0! Yeah, I know.

But name difficulties aside, this event is going to be the best party/concert/blog clusterfuck in the history of party/concert/blog clusterfucks. Of course, you're probably asking yourself what makes this night more special than any other night? No, there will be no Matzah (I presume), instead we will be treated to performances from some of the best unleavened bands in the city of Los Angeles.

Each blogger chose one band to play. With my first round draft pick, I took the Deadly Syndrome, arguably the most electrifying live band in LA right now. Aquarium Drunkard tabbed the awesomeness that is Le Switch, while Kevin Bronson picked Orange County's Aushua. Lastly, LA Underground selected Phoenix and the Turtle, a band who I have yet to hear. Hopefully, they will bring live turtles and Phoenixes on-stage. In between sets, Joe from Radio Free Silverlake and Jax from Rock Insider will be DJ'ing.

The bottom line is you have no excuse not to come. If nothing else for the opportunity to enact some sort of pernicious scheme that could single-handedly wipe out 97 percent of LA's music bloggers in one fall swoop. Rumor has it, good times will be had by all.

P.S. Punch and Pie will be served.

Download:
MP3: The Deadly Syndrome-"I Hope I Become a Ghost"
MP3: The Deadly Syndrome-"The Ship that Shot Itself"

Caribou's Andorra Channels the Summer of Love

2007-08-03T03:11:00.001-04:00

1967 was 40 years ago, but judging from the way Rolling Stone deified it this anniversary Summer, you'd think it occurred during the Renaissance. You know the tired spiel. "LSD! Hippies! The Beatles! Vietnam! The Monkees! We changed the world, man....One Toke at a Time" Right? Wrong. The myth that hippies changed the world is like the Tibetan myth of the Yeti. Both were very created by people that were very very high.

But for all the stoned hippie blather and contrived mythology, 1967 did produce some great music: The Doors' first record, Younger than Yesterday, Surrealistic Pillow, The Velvet Underground & Nico, The Grateful Dead, The Piper at the Gates of Dawn, Are You Experienced, Something Else by the Kinks, Disraeli Gears, Forever Changes, The Who Sell Out, and yeah, that Pepper Club Band thing. It almost makes you want to be an ex-hippy with a graying ponytail, an "organic foods," fixation, an "eco-friendly" business approach and the nickname Munchie (or Seth).

Dan Snaith, the mastermind behind Caribou does not seem like a hippie. He has short hair, a Mathematics PhD and he's from Canada. Canada doesn't have hippies they have elk (and probably caribou). But sonically, Snaith updates the sound of '67, creating songs as blindingly bright as the album cover's yellow tulips, producing nine lush tracks, ideal for the sun-scorched summer.

Do These Caribou Know How to Party or What?

Unlike most psychedelic rock, a palpable sadness permeates Andorra, in a way that reminds me of Forever Changes in its sense of loss and uncertainty. Andorra is a break-up record, a stumble through a tragic world filled with clouds of swirling rainbow smoke. A love-lorn Snaith devotes half the songs to girls with matronly names like, "Melody Day," "Sandi,""Desiree" and "Irene." The latter song being largely an instrumental with a few lyrics that describe the peril of dating a woman with an unattractive name like Irene. (The B-Side, "Gertrude." is even more brutal.")

Like Milk of Human Kindness and Up in Flames (recorded under the Manitoba moniker), Andorra is drugged, disoriented and ultimately dazzling. While it may not fully stack up against the best stuff made 40 years ago, it's certainly close. And even if it doesn't receive instant canonization (because it's not part of "the revolution, man,") it remains a powerful and beautiful work of art. The ideal soundtrack for the thinking man's stoner after he's just lost his woman (or his bong).

Download:
MP3: Caribou-"Melody Day"

from Milk of Human Kindness
MP3: Caribou-"Bees"

The Mystery of Shadowblogging

2007-08-02T02:19:00.000-04:00

So Kevin Murphy, the esteemed raconteur behind So Much Silence has allowed me to take part in his "I Used to Love H.E.R," series, mainly because I promised to call him an "esteemed raconteur" in print if he'd let me write an entry. Of course, it was all an elaborate ruse. Blogs don't count as "in print." Hell, blogs don't really even count as "writing." [Insert philosophical debate about the utility of blogging here].

Anyhow, I'm honored to be included in a series that includes upstanding individuals like Jamie Radford, Douglas Martin, and Enrique Iglesias (Dude LOVES Kool G Rap). My entry concerns one of best records ever made: The Genius' Liquid Swords. It also involves Mark Morrison's "Return of the Mack." Yes, that "Return of the Mack."

I Used to Love H.E.R.: Liquid Swords

"Look at me my dear....look at me....you know you cannot resist a man in velvet."

Links now that the sight of Enrique Iglesias in velvet has scarred you for life:

Fresh Groove wagers that Go Team! will produce a better album on September 11th than the much vaunted, sure to disappoint match-up between 50 Cent and Kanye. I'd say that's a safe bet.

Oh Word has some stellar Rock the Bells coverage.

Aquarium Drunkard has a bootleg of Pink Floyd's Zabriskie Point Sessions.

And yes, the Sunset Rundown album leaked and as Oceans Never Listen will tell you it's kinda' sorta' awesome.

And Dodge has tracks and high praise for the other record that's been getting non-stop rotation in my car: Aesop Rock's None Shall Pass.

Hezakiah-Looking Up

2007-08-01T22:55:00.000-04:00

From the people who brought you the best video of the year, Marco Polo's "Nostalgia." Hezakiah's apparently a new artist on Rawkus. I haven't heard the full-length, but I have to say I'm definitely feeling the single. I'm also feeling the fact that it's a hip-hop song with R&B hook sung by Bilal, apparently snapping Akon's Ripken-esque streak of appearing on every single hip-hop song made over the last two years. Smack that? Yeah, smack whoever allowed that happen.

Camp Lo's Black Hollywood

2007-08-01T02:23:00.000-04:00

Since day one, Camp Lo have always been Hollywood. Their technicolor tales could only fit on the big screen: blaxploitation fantasies of bloody Bronx shoot-outs, slick diamond heists and jet-black getaway cars gunning it 100 miles per on the Bronx Expressway, plane to Aruba waiting at Teterboro. All matinee style: swaggering in fly panama hats, Oscar Gamble afros, and floor-length minks. And, of course, the finest weed, wine, and women stolen money could buy.

Speaking with Byzantine slang, the duo of Chiba and Suede dropped a classic on their first try, 1997’s Uptown Saturday Night, a record that seemed to herald the emergence of a classic hip-hop duo. What rises in the first act, though, falls in the second, and Lo fell as hard as anyone, with label woes causing them to basically vanish for a decade. In fact, until last year’s Fort Apache Mixtape, Lo were more likely to appear on Nas’s “Where Are They Now ‘90s Remix” than they were to drop an album, let alone a good one.

Black Hollywood is that album. Just 35 minutes start to finish, it wastes no time in proving its case, commencing with “My Posse from the Bronx,” a Ski-produced banger full of nervous stuttering hand claps and a “My Philosophy” sample. Like champion middleweights, Cheeba and Suede bob and weave, jabbing the beat with perfect rhythm. The tone of the record is clear from the first bars, with Lo still spitting subterranean Bronx tales full of frantic car chases, stolen drugs, and Rugers to shatter spines. In the hands of lesser lyricists and less colorful personalities, the gun and drug talk would seem hopelessly tired, but with Lo, it’s never really been what they rapped about, it’s the way in which they did it

Won't Tell These Guys It's Not 1977 If You Don't

Each track is a different scene in Lo’s seamy netherworld myth: “82 Afros” finds the pair embroiled in a dice game shootout, while “Sugar Willie’s Revenge” sees the pair painting the portrait of a “Dirty Harry carrying” pimp named Sugar Willie. “Ganja Lounge” is that moment in the movies when the store-owner flips a switch, the walls revolve and suddenly you’re transporting into the redolent haze and dim lights of a plush drug den.

Two tracks in particular form the record’s emotional core and make it more than just a paean to the spoils of crime: “Jack and Jill,” a cautionary tale that pays homage to Slick Rick’s “Children’s Story,” and “Sweet Claudine,” a love song to a woman recently jilted by the father of her children. Wise enough to know which clichés to avoid, Lo’s rare glimpse of sentimentality imbues the album with a degree of depth and three-dimensionality often lacking in contemporary hip-hop.

Sure, the album has a few flaws. Roughly half the tracks appeared on a little heard mixtape the pair released last year. Several beats are just OK. And with the exception of maybe “My Posse from the Bronx,” nothing stands up to “Luchini,” “Black Nostaljack,” or “Cooley High,” the holy trinity of Uptown Saturday Night singles. But, then again, the sequel is never as good as the original, and while it may not be the second classic Camp Lo album, Black Hollywood marks a satisfying return. Cheeba and Suede’s Hollywood production might not be about to shove anything off any AFI’s greatest of all-time list, but in a weak year for hip-hop it certainly deserves an Oscar nomination or two.

Download:
MP3: Camp Lo-"Posse from the Bronx"
MP3: Camp Lo-"Ganja Lounge"

Beards, Blazers & Glasses: The Rapture Bury Dance Punk

2007-07-31T02:33:00.001-04:00

I never really got into the Rapture. It wasn't actually their fault. I blame it on the whoever the music writer was that coined the label "dance-punk." To me, "dance punk" always sounded like something that Buford "Mad Dog" Tannen would yell at Marty McFly, not a type of "life changing music" rumored to cause world peace, cure polio, and lower your miniature golf score, all in one fell dance-punking swoop. It was as though, with "dance-punk," the Rapture themselves were personally responsible for getting hipsters to dance, which in turn has caused me the misfortune of actually having to watch hipsters dance. Thanks dudes.

But last year when The Rapture dropped their excellent third record, Pieces of the People We Love, I finally saw why everyone liked these guys in the first place. Of course, dance-punk didn't end up curing polio (merely acne) so all the web mags snubbed it come year-end list time, despite the fact that Pieces was way less self-serious, way more organic and way better than Echoes. The lyrics were still sort of retarded (High / High as the sky / Low / Low as a ghost / Purple dragons fly into your eyes / Milkshake shimmy cry and cry and cry)." But no one really listens to bands like The Rapture for the lyrics anyway.

Early in their career, the Rapture apparently had a rep for being terrible live, but you'd never know it now, with the four-piece seeming polished, self-assured and ridiculously funky on-stage, turning the Mayan Theater into a packed, sweltering dance party. The guitars were hard, the drums harder and they had a guy alternating between the sax-a-mophone and the cowbell. I couldn't complain. Stripped of the cumbersome, unrealistic expectations and media attention that had the Rapture leading a dance-punk movement stretching all the way from Williamsburg to Park Slope, the Rapture have matured into a pretty awesome band.

Little Known Fact: The Album Cover Was Designed by a Team of Gay Four Year Olds on Mescaline

If you ran into these guys on the street, you'd never have a clue that they were among the most soulful white boys in music. Front-man Luke Jennner looks like Topher Grace after six bong rips, while bassist/vocalist Matt Safer channels Rick Moranis circa Ghostbusters 1. But they gives you no nonsense about accounting, Dana Barret or being "the Keymaster," instead they shuffle across the stage, guitars strapped to their shoulders, owning the crowd and letting off some wailing pinched-nerve vocals that can only come from a man wearing his pants much too tight.

The set drew heavily from the most recent record and the band sounded great, flicking off fast rumbling guitar licks, lightning drums, jazzy sax bursts, and of course, a fever that could only be quelled by more cowbell. The Rapture love the cow bell, but honestly, can you blame them? Not I. The songs themselves sounded fantastic, to the point of where I'm reasonably convinced that Ford could resurrect its flagging fortunes if they used "First Gear" in their next advertising campaign.

So believe the hype. The Rapture are the real deal four years after they were the real deal, a band that were so overrated that they're now actually really underrated. If I've lost you at this juncture, it's probably because I've lost myself in the process. But my point, if I have one, is that now that the dance-punk has been placed into its form-fitting, vintage grave, the Rapture are starting to look more and more like the band everyone thought they'd turn out to be. So dance, McFly dance!

Download:
MP3: The Rapture-"First Gear"
MP3: The Rapture-"Pieces of the People We Love"

The Beat Generation

2007-07-30T01:56:00.000-04:00

Chances are if you're reading this you probably already know, Zilla Rocca, 1/2 of Philadelphia rap duo Clean Guns, and one of the founders of Beat Garden Entertainment. I've posted about them once, or twice, or thrice in the past year, and though I'm probably biased, I sincerely believe these guys to be the most exciting new rap collective to emerge from the underground since Def Jux and Rhymesayers bubbled up a half dozen years ago. With the major labels in a perpetual state of panic, I was curious to hear Zilla's thoughts and experiences in getting a label off the ground at a time when the music industry seems more tenuous than ever.

Running a label is like being the general manager of a basketball team. You're always looking for a balanced squad: someone to bring the ball up the court, cats to clear the boards, shooters to hit open three’s, etc. But then there's always the question of team chemistry. We’ve had to let some people go due to toxic personalities and lack of contributions. Things always move faster once you drop dead weight. With everyone on board, you can move forward and focus on marketing and promotion, figuring out which venues to establish contacts with, which big purchases you should get next (i.e. CD/DVD burner) and who to take shit from and who to tell to go fuck themselves.

Most importantly, you need to constantly work on the music. I don’t mean that in the Lil’ Wayne/2Pac, doing 23 songs a day way. But there always needs to be a project for your crew to get on. That way MC's stay sharp and producers stay hungry. That’s what made the Wu great—RZA cut whole verses from cats because they weren’t as good as someone else’s bars. What hip hop needs is quality control. I hear at least 20-30 new hip hop songs a week. I end up re-listening to less than half .

In Philly, EVERYONE has a mixtape, a DVD, a company, a “movement,” etc. This causes everyone in town to hate each other off the bat because a) they assume the next man is garbage (most of the time they’re right) and b) that next artist is taking up their spot. What separates us from the pack is that we try to be cool with everybody. We maintain positive relationships with people we collaborate with, as well as with people from out of state who have only seen our stuff online.

Do Not Believe the Rumors: Vanilla Ice Has Not Signed to Beat Garden

Of course, there's daily nonsense to deal with. Paramount above all is the fact that Clean Guns is comprised of two white guys. It’s amazing that this is still a “weakness” for MC’s in 2007. I honestly never think about it. But the rest of the world must think that white dudes are still Vanilla Ice-ing it because people are SHOCKED when they hears us for the first time and our racial identities are revealed. We just did a show at Liquid Charm in Philly where the crowd was overwhelmingly African-American and hadn't heard us before. The moment we set foot on-stage, people ice-grilled me, knowing that we'd waste their time, hoping we’d be corny. Halfway through “Watch How it Go Down,” the crowd was in our hands. By the end of the four song, 10-minute set, (“Econo-rap” says Sean Price), damn near everybody in Liquid Charm rushed up to us with pounds, business cards, flyers and CDs, saying “Yo that was CRAZY! Oh my god, let me get some music. Here’s my info, where y’all playing next?!!?” I felt like Hendrix at Woodstock. Except I was wearing a "crack is wack" shirt.

We put out our debut record last August and only now have heads in Philly really started to open up to us, asking us to do shows and get on tracks. We rehearse before every show. We constantly write new songs. We try to maintain a presence online as well as venues and clubs and shows. Songs from our album are getting spins on college radio. And the company meets every month to go over whatever’s clever to make sure we’re all focused on the common good. It’s a full-scale operation that never stops.If I’m not checking my email, the MySpace accounts, all the hip hop blogs plus the forums on 215hiphop.com, I feel lazy. I need to know what’s going on from a business standpoint, but also because I’m still a big fan.

From now on, the fifth element of hip hop will be the computer. Not the internet, but the computer. Cats make beats on computers—shit, I do exclusively. Cats write rhymes on computers—Nico does exclusively! Cats design their little mixtape covers on Microsoft Paint and print them out on their HP inkjets (really, no excuse for this but I see it all the time). People bitch about the Internet, but the Internet is a byproduct of owning or having access to a computer, which does more than just let you get the new T.I. album for free. The computer and with it the Internet, allows artists to get an instant response for whatever they're doing. The bad news is that it birthed MySpace rappers. But ultimately, I don’t care if people download or burn our music for free—the fact that they want to own it, hear it is money in the bank to me. The truth is, Nas was wrong. Hip hop isn’t dead—CD’s are.

Download the first installment in the Beat Garden Producer Series.
ZIP: Clean Guns-"World Domination" (left-click)

Links Presented by Bishop Allen

2007-07-27T21:30:00.001-04:00

As far as I can tell neither of these men is a bishop which might make this the biggest misnomer since Weed, California. I'm sure a lot of you guys have heard about Bishop Allen. I think they've actually been on every single blog in the history of the Internet. However, I have yet to ever write about them and I did a story on them this week for the Arizona Republic, so why not? Their new album, The Broken String is out right now and I think it's pretty solid in a smart and melancholy indie pop sort of way. It's a little depressing and a little esoteric (with a song about the Civil War Battleship, The Monitor), but what can you do? They went to Harvard. They're probably smarter than us all.

Bishop Allen in the Arizona Republic

Download:
MP3: Bishop Allen-"Rain"
MP3: Bishop Allen-"Click, Click, Click, Click"

In Other News:

Jeff Tweedy of Wilco plays rock critic for the NY Times and sounds just like a music blogger. His picks: Panda Bear, Battles, Dr. Dog, A Hawk & A Hand-Saw and Grizzly Bear.

Blipster Hits Up Sonic Youth, Daft Punk and the Little Radio Summer Camp in what can only be described as the best weekend ever.

Rafi at Oh Word analyzes the absurdity of comparing L'il Wayne to Jim Morrison. Of course, everyone knows that L'il Wayne must only be compared with Slimer from Ghostbusters and/or a small rapping gremlin.

Gorilla Vs. Bear has "82 Afros" from Camp Lo's In Black Hollywood.

Speaking of the Lo, in honor of their new album, So Much Silence digs out a vinyl rip of Camp Lo's "Black Nostaljack" 12," and posts its rarely heard, B-Side, The Kid Capri Mixtape Remix

Humanity Critic drops two weird but eerily convincingly argued points about how Erykah Badu can save hip-hop and declaring Rohan Marley the Yoko Ono of the New Millenium.

Dan "From Da Bricks" Love drops some interesting beat dissections of old Premier tracks at Souled On Music.

Travel By Sea-Shadows Rise

2007-07-27T03:30:00.000-04:00

Life will always be shot full of heartache, melancholy and sadness, some of which can't be blamed on the popularity of Pat Robertson, Everybody Loves Raymond, and Big Momma's House. You might get fired from your job. You might break up with your girlfriend. You might be forced to sit through a sequel that may not involve Martin Lawrence dressing in drag and shattering any and all fond memories you have of Martin (but not Tisha Campbell circa 92).

That's why it's always nice to have records that can capture the sense of lonesome despair that can creep up on you when you realize that Arrested Development can't exist in the modern world (at least, not on network). Travel By Sea's Shadows Rise is one of those records, a dozen melancholy and beautiful folk songs perfect for that low ebb. It sort of reminds me a a darker varsion of the last Peter and the Wolf record. A record that seems slight on first listen but gains in complexity and depth with each run-through.

The collaboration of Tustin, California’s Kyle Kersten and Denver, Colorado’s Brian Kraft, Shadows Rise was actually released last year, but is deservedly getting the re-release treatment from The latest release from Justin "Aquarium Drunkard" Gage's Autumn Tone label. With a follow-up “Days of My Escape,” slated to be released later this summer, Travel by Sea are definitely worthy of being placed on your radar. Especially if your radar doesn't come equipped with Prozac.

Purchase: Travel By Sea - Shadows Rise
Download:
MP3: Travel By Sea :: Complete Shakeup
MP3: Travel By Sea :: I Won’t Let You Down

Beards, Blazers & Glasses or Chromeo Updates Roger & Zapp for the 21st Century

2007-07-26T02:41:00.001-04:00

Before it descended into a hell-fire of Yung Berg, Lloyd, and partying like a rock star, local "urban" station Power 106, used to play more than just hip-hop & R&B. Eclectic DJs used to throw weird old funk and club records into the mix, making you just likely to hear "Nothin' But A G-Thing" as you were to hear Frankie Smith's "Double Dutch Bus," or the Egyptian Lover's "Egypt Egypt." More than anything you'd hear a whole lot of Parliament-Funkadelic and a whole lot of Zapp. In fact, I'm reasonably certain that there are still parts of east Los Angeles where Roger Troutman is worshipped like a minor deity due to "More Bounce to the Ounce."

The Troutman and old funk records might have been as lyrically simple as the cliche-riddled hooks that modern mainstream rap and R&B singers try to pass of as anthems, but unlike "Lean like a Cholo," the Zapp records never had a sense of calculation to them. They weren't trying to sell a million ringtones or get played on Rap City, they were just trying to have fun. Indeed, you'd be more hard-pressed to find a more funky, loose-limbed party starter than the funk collective's greatest hits. But for all Troutman's influence on West Coast hip-hop (and Erick Sermon), his impact had been rather minimal outside of it. Until Chromeo.

Full of vocodors, huge synths and impossibly catchy pop hooks, Fancy Footwork is probably the best party record of the year. Part Roger & Zapp, part Rockwell circa "Somebody's Watching Me," part Hall & Oates and a bit of Steely Dan , Fancy Footwork flirts dangerously with being a pastiche-like homage , but ultimately who gives a fuck? It's fun, the songs are good, and on-stage, the pair have a natural affability that allows their songs to translate well to the live environment. And if you don't believe me, 1,000 hipsters at Cinespace in head bands and designer hats would tell you otherwise.

My Personal Favorite Facet of Roger is His "You Are Getting Sleepy" Hypnotist Face (see, top and center)

The decision to use Troutman's music as source material comes as little surprise when you learn of Chromeo's hip-hop centric background. In fact, the duo of Dave 1 and Pee Thugg, werea strictly known as hip-hop producers (Dave's brother is Kanye's DJ A-Trak) until their friend, Montreal producer Tiga asked them if they wanted to make an electro record. They figured, what the hell, and without any background in the genre, they made She's In Control, an auspicious debut, but one slightly less consistent than it's predecessor.

Running through a set-list that drew off both records, Chromeo are the proverbial on-stage odd couple. Dave 1, the lead singer is a lanky Jewish dude who looks like a GQ version of Dan Bejar from Destroyer. Handling 75 percent of the vocals, he chips in the occasional guitar riff. Pee is a heavy-set Arab dude, who rocks the keyboards and chimes in back-up vocals with vocoder tubes dangling from his mouth. They bill themselves as the greatest collaboration between Jews and Arabs in the history of time and neither seems to take themselves very seriously, solely concerned with making sure the crowd has a good time, constantly smiling, cracking jokes between songs.

Admittedly, the concept of a vaguely ironic, Vice-sanctioned electro-funk group is enough to keep your eyes rolled until November, but while the idea seems silly on paper, it works in reality, thanks to Chromeo's exceptional gift for writing great pop songs. In an ideal world, these songs would get as much radio airplay as Chromeo's inspirations used to receive. But even if they won't get "Party Like the Rock Star" off the airwaves, Chromeo actually are capable of getting a bunch of hipsters in fedoras to party like them, which I suppose is the first step.

See also my piece on Chromeo in the LA Times

MP3: Chromeo-"Fancy Footwork"
MP3: Chromeo-"Bonafied Lovin' (Tough Guys)"

Fall Into the Crap: Common's Finding Forever

2007-07-25T05:03:00.001-04:00

We all should've known this was coming. There were those Zoolander Gap Ads. The burgeoning bad acting career. The Gay Jedi album cover. And that odd-couple b.f.f. relationship with Jeremy "I'm Just Happy I'm Famous and Able to Get Girls Now" Piven. But a decade and half after Can I Borrow A Dollar, Common has managed to drop the worst album of his career. And it isn't even close. With Finding Forever, Common has become the worst type of rapper: one with nothing to say.

Before all the Okayplayers start flashing their back-pack signal (like the bat-signal but more into Mos Def), let the record state that I've always liked Common. Hell, I even really liked Electric Circus, a record that made most long-time Common fans want to show up at Erykah Badu's house with guns and pitchforks. But even the most staunch Electric Circus haters have to admit that there was a something noble about Common's desire to innovate and test the boundary between the worlds of hip-hop, soul, & electronica.

Instead of trying to create up something new and innovative, Common has stumbled into the black hole that often plagues veteran artists: the desire to clone their most popular albums. Indeed, Finding Forever feels like a caricature of Common's most commercially popular records, Like Water For Chocolate and Be. Enlisting Kanye behind the boards, Common reprises his tired "for the people," cracker-averse, loverman persona that he's plowed for a half dozen records, while Kanye lazily attempts to channel the spirit of J. Dilla.

And Then Me and Jeremy Went to the Grove and He Picked Out This Adorable Sweater for me...It was from the Gap...Obvs!

Common's strong suit has always been his ability to pare smart lyrics with a smooth, captivating flow. But Finding Forever finds him at his most creatively barren, exhausting everything he has to say. Constantly, the man born Lonnie Lynn treads overly familiar ground, stuck in the Latte Rap, Kingdom Come school of US Weekly lyricism, lamely name dropping the likes of Akeelah The Bee, Finding Nemo, Reese Witherspoon & Ryan Phillippe, & Lance Bass, among many others. I suppose we should all be thankful he didn't refer to her as Reese Witherspeezie (Jay-Z...you are dead to me).

The production matches the listless lyricism, with Kanye sounding stale, as though he's burned through all the good soul samples he knows. In an effort to emulate Dilla's production, West chops his samples up a bit more than usual, but the attempts seem ham-handed, particularly in contrast to one actual Dilla beat, "So Far to Go." Of course, this is still a Common record, and there are inevitably moments when he's able to summon up his old fastball. The first single "The People" finds Common sounding fierce and hungry (if not lyrically mediocre), over a West-supplied MF Doom biting beat. "The Southside" with Kanye West is solid, if nothing else for Kanye's Back to the Future babbling . But those fleeting moments of excellence are few and far between and when they do happen, they're immediately followed up by inane bitching about "white folks focusing on dogs and yoga."

Beyond uneven beats and dull lyrics, it's Finding Forever's dearth of ideas that prove the most damning. Commencing with a tepid minute-plus instrumental and concluding with more of Common's father (Capt. Obvious) rambling about global warming, everything here has already been done before, and done better. When all is said and done, the only way that this record will find forever is in its lot to be permanently consigned to the record store bargain bin.

Download:
MP3: Common-"The People"
MP3: Common-"Play Your Cards Right" (UK Bonus Track)

Who Knew Ja Rule Was Still Alive?

2007-07-24T00:02:00.000-04:00

I'm not even going to lie. This is actually pretty good. Maybe it's that uh...recommendation the Doctor gave me the other day (thank you California voters), but this is probably the first good song involving Ja Rule song since "Gangsta' Shit" from the first Clue album. How happy do you think Ja Rule was when he got arrested? I bet he was skipping through the entire perp walk, thinking , "oh boy, oh boy, I might have a career again."

As for Wayne, I'm sure prison won't be THAT far from what he's used to. Still, I for one will be a little sad to him go. I was even beginning to like the little fella. Sort of like in The Real Ghostbusters, when Slimer becomes the Ghostbusters' friend and not their enemy.

Download the last good song with Ja Rule on it.
MP3: Ja Rule & Jay-Z-"Gangsta Shit"

video via Nah Right

Behold....The Ugliest Shirt in Recorded History

Your Week in Hipster

2007-07-23T22:01:00.000-04:00

Let it not be said that I hate the hipster nation. Sure, I give 'em a ribbing now and then but it's all love. With that in mind, I present the video for Plastic Little's "Dopeness." To be quite honest, I'm not all that crazy about the song or the band, but the video is pretty funny.

Also in hipster news, Manic is having their EP release party at the hipster clusterfuck that is Cinespace this Tuesday night. I've never actually been, though I've driven past it several times recoiling in horror. Chromeo & Flosstradamus are playing and thusly, I have decided to shed any sort of common sense I might have in order to witness the scene first-hand. Pray for me.

Download:
MP3: Manic-"Carolina Ghost"

The Five Worst Movies I’ve Never Seen

2007-07-23T01:08:00.000-04:00

Meet Scott Towler. Scott is the author of Scott's Blizzog, this previous Passion guest post, and a number of erotic cartoons and limericks featuring Snow White and the 7 Dwarfs. In addition to his side career debunking sexual stereotypes about animated little people, Scott has agreed to begin contributing regular film and television posts to the Passion of the Weiss. Gainfully employed in the television industry, Scott has previously worked as the writer's assistant on the third season of Arrested Development. As for his willingness to write for this blog, I remain baffled.

Odds are this Will Not Make 'Em Jump Like Rod Strickland

Andy Samberg is not funny. Not even a little. Seriously. SNL's writing might be weak of late, but its cast is as strong as it's ever been. In fact, it might even rival the late 90s bunch with Will Ferrell, Molly Shannon and Tina Fey. But really, the only reason why Samberg was brought on was because he and his two friends Jorma and Akiva made a hilarious pilot for FOX a few years back called Awesometown, and Lorne Michaels picked them up as a '3 amigos' deal. If you haven't seen that pilot, follow the link and watch it. It's actually quite funny. But still- Samberg isn't. It's clear that the talent of their trio comes from the other two guys. Samberg is just the face they put in front of their words.

But my main issue with this film is that it's going to be a blatant Simpsons rip off. Do you remember the episode when Bart was supposed to jump the Springfield Gorge on his skateboard after he saw Lance Murdoch do it at a stunt show? Well, when Hot Rod finally hits theaters, we'll all be treated to the site of Samberg's character (we'll call him Putz McMurphy) wearing virtually the same animated costume created A DECADE AGO. It's like making a live action Simpson's episode and leaving out Bart and Homer? Sounds awesome. An hour and a half of Lisa and Marge. Huzzah!

Hey, Robin, Maybe It's Time You Started Doing Coke Again, I Mean You Don't Have to Get All Rick James On Us, But Maybe Just a Bump or Two, or Three. I Know You're Supposed to be All "Clean" and Everything But I Promise I Won't Tell Anyone.

Where to begin? Let's see....old 'out of touch with reality' actor gets agents to sign on 2 young up and comers to co-star in a movie that is intended to be a chick flick but is really just a pile of dog shit. Close? Eh...close enough. Robin Williams really should have stopped acting after Good Morning, Vietnam, with the one exception being Dead Poet's Society. Of course that film really should have been called School Ties II: The Mystery of the Poetry Book. And of course, then they made The Emperor's Club with Kevin Kline which I think was probably the third film in that trilogy. Anyway, Robin Williams needs to hang it up, be a father, and just pop in at the Laugh Factory and Comedy Store from time to time. Not to do comedy, but rather to chalk a rail off Janeane Garofolo's ass crack.

Also, Mandy Moore isn't an actress. She may have done "acted", but she isn't an actress. Sure, I guess I feel sympathy for John Krasinski because this could've been a great vehicle for him, and now it's more like, "Hey, my parents are going to see that too!" "Isn't that cute guy from The Office in it?" Plus there's the whole Single File Eyes analysis of the movie poster which substantiated that the poster looks suspicious like the female anatomy...Williams being the vag. Go figure, right? But whether or not Williams is an actor or a vagina, this movie will still suck.

Then again, if he were a giant vagina, I'd probably pay to see it.

Thank You For Sucking

Just when you thought it couldn't get worse: a movie about a chef with a child and who can't balance her life as a chef and a mother. But don't worry...Micheal Douglas' China Doll...Aaron Eckhart and his hair plugs are to the rescue! Ooh, I hope they fall in love! Ooh...and maybe they can open a restaurant together in the end! Yay! Nothing like an open and shut case like this one. When someone writes a script like this, I cry. When someone buys it, I cry more. Then, just when I think I'm completely out of tears, I find out that people actually signed on to make the thing, and it's going to be released worldwide. This is typically when the tires screech and everyone asks, "wait- you're joking right?" Oh how I wish I was.

I blame this movie on Al-Queda. Only terrorists could be smart enough to release a film so unappealing...only terrorists could kidnap and force these B and C list stars to act in it...only terrorists could open a Universal Studios Theme Park in Dubai. OK, so that last one may have been an American sleeper cell in Dubai, but still...who gives a crap about the life and perils of a chef? Wait, I'll tell you who does- children do! That's why they made this movie and opted not to buy No Reservations. I don't care how you slice it, this is a movie I will absolutely never see. And if I date a girl that wants to see it, I'll dump her ass right then and there.

But first I gotta date a girl.

First Come. First Turd.

We all loved Rushmore. It's like an indie film staple these days. Charlie Bartlett is just another piss poor attempt to recreate a still-good film one that has no business being tampered with. But lo and behold, there's a whole new generation of young people to sell it to. Here's a better idea- repackage Rushmore as an anniversary edition jam packed with deleted scenes and commentary from the director, on set carpenter, 2nd make up artist, and 2 extras. Honestly, I'd rather live through the torture sketch from Enter the Wu-Tang rather than watch this preview again.

I don't have a lot to say about this film, because it doesn't seem like there's that much to it. I have to laugh though at Robert Downey Jr's decision to take this role. I guess when you're an ex-con, it's hard to get the parts you want, but if you check out the movie on IMDB, you'll notice that his character doesn't even have a name. If he did though, I'm guessing it'd be John Doe. And man, they really pegged him well. Who better than to play 'The Principal' (a role ostensibly designed to lead kids to do the right thing) than Robert Downey Jr. "Hey kids, stay off drugs. Give them to me and I'll...dispose...of them...in my veins."

I'm Guessing L'il Wayne's "Caddy" is Birdman. And by Caddy, I mean, Weird Father Figure to Anally Probe And Get Tatted Onto His Breast

OK, OK...I get that Andre 3000 is the "talented" one. Fine. And I understand that there's a movie called Friday which is popular with the young people. But what the fuck is this? can only hope that it starts as a light-hearted romp in camp comedy. You know the type: a film specifically designed to cater to a black audience, intended to poke fun at the predominantly cracker game of golf, talking about wives and girlfriends, and swinging one's worries away on the green. Except there's one problem: most black people DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK ABOUT GOLF. (Tiger Woods excluded). So why in god's name would people think to make a movie for black people about golf?

Also, the whole 'rappers doing movies' thing has gotta stop. There are only a few movies in this genre that I can stomach: The Wash, Friday, and MP: Da Last Don. Yeah, that's right I loved those No Limit and Death Row movies of yesteryear. Fuck it, I loved Thriller too. But this is different. Here, we don't even have any actual rapping to serve as the backdrop. Instead, we're telling these MUSICIANS to ACT. Anyone else see a problem here? Well I do, though I still may Netflix this someday, as it looks the most tolerable of the five films we've discussed here today.

Honorable Mention Worst Movies I've Never Seen:

Mighty Ducks 12, King of the Hill: Bigger, Longer and Uncut, and Girls Gone Wild '07: Ixtapa.

Downoad: (To Make You Forget That Who's Your Caddy? Exists)

MP3: Outkast-"AtLiens"
MP3: Lil Wayne-"I Know the Future"

Support the New Beverly

2007-07-21T14:58:00.000-04:00

The long-term status of one of Los Angeles' beloved institutions is in jeopardy right now, after the owner of the New Beverly Cinema, Sherman Torgan passed away from a heart attack last week. (See the very good LA Times obit) For those that haven't been to the New Beverly Cinema, it's one of LA's hidden treasures, the last full-time revival house left in the city, a place for movie geeks and cineastes of all stripes to come together and watch classic films on the big screen.

Few theaters anywhere can match the breadth and quality of the films that Sherman Torgan hand-picked for viewing, but even fewer can match the sense of family and community that the New Beverly has built up over the years. With Torgan's passing, the theater will be taken over in the interim by his family. If you've never been to the New Beverly, now's the the time to go, as it needs your business now more than ever. Seriously, how in god's name can you not love a theater that shows an 80s double feature of Back to the Future and Goonies, all for $7 (July 29-31)? It's easy to shrug and hope that places like this stay in business. It's more difficult to get up and actually patronize them. If you get the chance, I sincerely recommend doing so. LA can't afford to lose another one of its finest institution.

RIP Sherman. You will be missed.

The New Beverly's Cinema Calender

The New Beverly on Myspace

This is the Lo, Right?

2007-07-20T04:12:00.001-04:00

As Joey aptly put it yesterday morning, the just leaked Camp Lo in Black Hollywood, is a legitimate contender for best hip-hop album of the year. Especially considering '07 has been nothing but aging veterans trying to make classics past their prime, against all the odds. Redman was solid but unspectacular and loaded with filler. Prodigy was good but honestly, that isn't the Prodigy of old, we all know that. Pharoahe was on some Andre 3000 shit. Again, good but no Internal Affairs or Stress. The entire second half of Devin the Dude was a throwaway. And Raekwon? Only Built 4 Cuban Linx 2 is about as real as Anthony Michael Hall's girlfriend "from Canada" in Weird Science.

I'll save the proclamations for the full review, but in my opinion, Lo are the only vets to actually pull it off. This might be their best album yet and I've already made it clear how much I love Uptown Saturday Night. Just listen to album opener, "My Posse from the Bronx" and tell me if it isn't the best intro since "Shakey Dog."

Buy Camp Lo in Black Hollywood

Download:
MP3: Camp Lo-"Posse from the Bronx"

Go to Straight Bangin' for another In Black Hollywood MP3

Links Presented By Internet Celebrities

2007-07-19T16:06:00.000-04:00

What Rafi and Dallas are doing is invaluable to the youth of America. Knowing how to finagle one's way into VIP status, spot weed carriers, and the proper time to use the port-a-potties is essential knowledge that everyone should have. Indeed, these two intrepid young men are proving that like ODB and the Wu-Tang, Internets Celebrities are for the children.

In other news, ya' boy (apparently, in hip-hop slang, that means me....thanks Black Album!), had a feature on Stephen Stills run in the Arizona Republic. Kevin Murphy, of So Much Silence fame, has taken over as Music Editor, so expect a lot more stuff of mine to appear over there. Justin "Aquarium Drunkard" Gage has also begun contributing to the Republic, (see his David Vandervelde Q & A), as has Eric "Marathonpacks" Harvey, so the paper's music site is definitely worth book-marking, if you're into the whole "brevity" thing.

Cracked has the 10 Worst Celebrity Bands. Can't really knock any of those choices.

I Am Fuel You Are Friends has cuts from the bonus EP that came with Spoon's Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga.

Floodwatch drops a ridiculously good mix of DJ Premier's greatest hits.

Milk Was a Bad Choice debates casting decisions if the Thundercats ever became a movie. Needless to say, it it did get made, it would probably get boycotted because you just know that the phrase, "Thundercats Ho!!!" would insult someone.

Sometimes, I read Cole Slaw Blog and it feels like I'm reading my own blog, except much much smarter.

And in honor of my getting the opportunity to interview Stephen Stills and sound like a complete jack-ass telling him how awesome he is, here's two tracks from his 1972 masterpiece, Manassas.

Download:
MP3: Stephen Stills-"Colorado"
MP3: Stephen Stills-"So begins the task"

Beards, Blazers & (Vampire) Bats: Vampire Weekend

2007-07-19T03:19:00.000-04:00

Just trying to keep track of the music world in 2007 can give you a splitting migraine. Bands pop up seemingly out of the ether, hit next-big-thing status in a matter of weeks and then appear on your kid brother's Myspace page a mere four weeks after that. Vampire Weekend are the latest of the bunch: a hipster-hyped four-piece of recent Columbia grads with a wry sense of humor and a jones for Paul Simon's "Graceland,"

Despite being anonymous just a few months ago, the boys in Vampire Weekend are riding high at the moment, earning major articles in the NY Ti mes, Rolling Stone, and Stylus. So when they rolled into town to play a two-night set at the Troubadour and the Silverlake Lounge, the record industry hounds turned out en masse to to see if the much hyped and more importantly un-signed Manhattites could live up to the advance billing.

The answer, unsurprisingly, is both yes and no. It feels unfair to place such unreasonable expectations on a band with just a slim three-song EP under their belt. Granted, the songs on the EP are solid and catchy Unicorns style shchizo-pop with a pronounced afro-beat influence, but these kids aren't re-inventing the wheel either. They're just updating Graceland for the new millenium, writing cute and quirky pop tunes sending the hipster nation into pleasant nostalgia of being todders toddling around to "You Can Call Me Al."

Apparently, Vampires Spend Most of their Weekends on Cape Cod

On the plus side, Vampire Weekend have a lot going for them. First of all, they've thankfully resisted the urge to contrive some sort of ridiculous, cooler-than-thou cigarette dangling persona that has plagued New York bands over the last half decade (if Interpol ever decides to wonder why critics were so merciless on their latest jaunt, they might want to consider not looking like such assholes next time). Indeed, Vampire Weekend look nothing like what you'd expect from the latest NYC sensation. Their look is straight prep-school Polo, boat shoes and Oxford shirts, which doesn't do much to mask the fact that these guys look all of 12 years old. Vampires are apparently only supposed to drink blood, but judging from non-threatening boyish air lead singer Ezra Koening, I'd wager that they only drink milk.

As for their live show, they certainly filled out the cracker-box Silverlake Lounge (a rather easy task but still). Koenig's voice is unusually strong and powerful. As a front-man, he possesses a sense of spontaneity rarely seen in bands at such an incipient stage, blurting out the occasional extemporaneous "ay ay ay", lending a playful vibe to the proceedings without veering into eye-rolling irony territory. Drummer Chris Tomson keeps things moving swiftly, pounding the drum kit with stutter-step world beat-accentuated rhythms.

Breezing through a light-hearted 35 minute set, the band ran through the entirety of their self-titled EP and several other tracks bound to make their full-length debut dropping later this year. While I'm still partial to the Islands in the competition to see who can best re-make Graceland for the 00s, Vampire Weekend remain an ingratiating bunch, one worthy of the attention lavished on them. While it remains to be seen whether they can evolve beyond their Paul Simon fixation to develop a wholly new sound of their own, they're a fun band with a lot of potential. And to quote Black Sheep, "you can't beat that with a (Vampire) bat."

Read Circa 45's Take on their Phoenix show and the 7" he purchased there

Read Floating Away's Take on their Troubadour set

Download:
MP3: Vampire Weekend-"Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa"
MP3: Vampire Weekend-"Oxford Comma"

Go to Blogs are for Dogs and Get "Wolcott"

Bonus:
MP3: Black Sheep-"The Choice is Yours Revisited"

Iron & Wine Creates a Masterpiece

2007-07-18T03:16:00.000-04:00

I've always found Iron & Wine a little boring in a polite acoustic coffee-shop sort of way. Good but still...A little too sterile, a little too simple, a little too repetitive. Every song shared the same hushed Nick Drake/Sufjan Stevens/child molester whisper, skeletal but pretty arrangements and a sort of general soporific romance vibe that made it the de facto soundtrack for a generation of indie-skewing freshmen trying to spit game by playing the Garden State soundtrack to drunken sorority girls on futons.

But let it be said, that none of his previous output has a thing on his latest record,The Shepherd's Dog, a startling sonic evolution that figures to be one of 2007's best and one that catapults Sam Beam into the first-tier of American singer-songwriters.

Ian Cohen has compared Beam's artistic arc to My Morning Jacket, who went from the drowsy pastoral sketches of At Dawn to the drugged and powerful psychedelia of Z in just a few years. And I'd have to agree, with the analogy becoming fully apt somewhere in the second minute of the second song, "White Tooth Man." On that track, Beam learns to let loose, shedding his restrained academic trappings (dude used to teach Film and Cinematography at Miami International) and going for the brass ring, twisting off off a jangling, unsettling jam, full of slinking sitars and lyrics of white toothed men selling guns and plain clothed cops talking to Indian chiefs and other nonsensical vivid technicolor images. In other words, it's the moment Sam Beam became Great.

Little Known Fact: Iron & Wine lead singer Sam Beam used to play Bass in ZZ Top

Beam's said in interviews that he wanted Shepherd's Dog to be "more playful" than his past efforts and that imprimatur is felt throughout. Think of the title track from his '05 Women King EP as the jumping off-point: more upbeat, more experimental, more consistently rewarding. It's not that Beam has abandoned his his bread and butter folk-roots, Shepherd's Dog is still full of soft-spoken confessional type stuff, but it merely has a better balance.

At times, Beam's growth is astonishing, with two-minute tracks like "The Devil Never Sleeps" showcasing rollicking pianos and a locomotive rhythm section, punctuated by bursts of electric guitar that sounds like The Basement Tapes. crossed with Califone's "Roots and Crowns" record.

It's a long way from the Creek that Drank the Cradle, but Beam has distilled the best elements of his Southern Gothic lyrics and let the arrangements breath out from the twisting Kudzu that had previously restrained them, recording a masterful record that figures to have few peers this year, or any year. Set to drop on Sept. 25th, The Shepherd's Dog will be hitting stores just in time for the start of the fall semester. Needless to say, I wouldn't want to be a futon right now.

Download:
Mp3: Iron & Wine-"Boy With a Coin"

Bonus:
Mp3: Iron and Wine - Southern Anthem
Mp3: Iron and Wine - Lions Mane
Mp3: Iron and Wine - Jesus the Mexican Boy
Mp3: Iron and Wine - Naked As We Came
Mp3: Iron and Wine - Woman King

Obvious Revelations Gleaned From N2 Deep's "Back to the Hotel"

2007-07-17T01:23:00.000-04:00

Last Thursday, prior to watching Dr. Dog tear the roof off the Echo, the band did something that forever earned them my eternal respect: choosing N2 Deep's "Back to the Hotel" as their intro music. Utilizing the famous Lafeyette Afro Band/"Show 'Em Whatcha Got" sax riff, "Back to the Hotel" beat Wreckx N' Effect's "Rumpshaker" "to the gate by a good six months. While it might not have been nearly as awesome as Teddy Riley & Co.'s ode to ass-shakin', hearing "Back to the Hotel" for the first time in 15 years brought back nostalgia of dubbed tapes off the radio and grainy videos on the Box. It also brought the sad realization that one of my favorite childhood songs is actually pretty bad. Neither guy in N2Deep could rap for shit, their lyrics are Mims- sophisticated, and the video looks like it was done by a team of bored convicts in possession of a beat-up 8 mm camera.

Revelations Gleaned From Watching N2 Deep's "Back to the Hotel" video for the first time in 15 years.

98 percent of N2 Deep's video consists of dudes mean-mugging the camera and/or driving around in a beat-up hoopty. On the one occasion that viewers are able to see one of N2 Deep's women, she appear to resemble like A.C. Green, albeit with bigger breasts

I'm reasonably certain that N2 Deep's girl troubles stemmed from the fact that they were throwing the world's worst party. If you're seriously trying to get some girls to go back to the hotel with you, chances are they won't be down if all you're doing is sipping "purple chongos" in a parking lot with 45 other dudes somewhere in Vallejo.

Jonny Z clearly had things more figured out than his friends in N2Deep. He got them to shout his name out in a song, plus in the song he got to have his hand up some girls mini-skirt, rendering him forever immortalized as though he were painted on a faux gangster Grecian urn.

Rhymes that probably should never be uttered in a rap song (Part I): " Cause you know what I mean when I'm feelin kinda funky/ A sick honky, straight going donkey." Unless your name is MC fucking Eeyore.

Rhymes that probably should never be uttered in a rap song (Part II): "And burn rubber up the block/ Back to the tele, I gotta get some new cock." Unless, you're talking about KFC. And even then....

The black sax player fake-playing the saxophone in the video did not score nearly as many credibility points as N2Deep must've hoped he would.

What kind of rapper brags about having money in his sock? Who carries money in their sock after the 7th grade?

N2Deep are what would have happened if Dante and Randall from Clerks tried to make a gangsta' rap video.

And yet still, I kind of like it.

Download:
MP3: N2 Deep-"Back to the Hotel" (left-click)

MP3: Dr. Dog-"Ain't It Strange"
MP3: Dr. Dog-"Worst Trip"

Hipster's Head Explodes at Pitchfork Music Festival

2007-07-16T02:41:00.000-04:00

Marring an otherwise peaceful weekend, Harrison Lancaster of Williamsburg, Brooklyn, was pronounced dead on the scene, at 9:45 p.m. on Saturday night, after his head reportedly exploded in the midst of Yoko Ono's headlining set at the Pitchfork Music Festival in Chicago. No by-standers were apparently hurt, though several hirsute spectators complained to festival organizers about being irritated by the violent and geyser-like eruption, as it disturbed their enjoyment of Ms. Ono's gong playing and cauterwauling.

Lancaster's friends expressed shock and sadness at the loss of the man, they called "Hipster Harrison."

"I started to worry about Harrison the moment, we arrived," his best friend Bradford Sadler, of Park Slope, Brooklyn said. "He loved Slint. They were his fourth favorite American post-rock experimental noise collective of the 80s, but when Sonic Youth played Daydream Nation, Harrison almost hyper-ventilated. He always loved that record. Well, maybe not always. At first when he came to Brooklyn, he hated Sonic Youth. So we told him that he was too stupid to understand their brilliance. So he locked himself up in a closet for 48 hours with nothing but a copy of Daydream Nation, some nude pictures of Kim Gordon and a case of PBR. It really earned our respect."

MUST. LOVE. DAYDREAM. NATION. MUST. LOVE. DAYDREAM. NATION.

After Sonic Youth's set closed down the first night of the festival, Lancaster returned to his hotel room and according to his friend, Sadler , he seemed fine. Yet interviews conducted with other guests at the downtown Chicago Sheraton, Hotel, speak to a reality that was anything but.

"I don't know what that kid was doing in his room and I'm not sure I wanna' know," life insurance salesman and Sheraton guest Marvin Bradshaw said. "I kept on hearing loud moans and he kept on screaming 'GIRL TALK' 'GIRL TALK'. Maybe the kid was calling a phone sex line or something?"

What's that? You Don't Love Girl Talk? But you HAVE to love Girl Talk. That is, unless you're a conformist. You're not a conformist are you? ARE YOU?

According to Sadler, Harrison's hysteria only seemed to increase with every Saturday set.

"It was so hot and Harrison refused to rest for even a second. He wouldn't miss anyone's set. He was so excited to see Battles that he brought his calculator. I tried to explain to him that that wasn't what Math Rock was, but he was just so thrilled to be there."

It was only after the Battles performance when Lancaster's health truly started to go downhill.

"I told him that he couldn't actually be in three places at the same time, but he wouldn't listen," Sadler said. "He kept on running around in circles, trying to see all of Mastodon, Clipse, & Dan Deacon's set. When I tried to stop him, he just sneered at me and told me that "I'd never get to go to Blood Mountain. And that Hell Hath No Fury for anyone who wasn't Spiderman of the Rings."

Dan Deacon: So Irritating, He MUST be Brilliant

According to Dr. Lewis Applebee, the first physician to attend to Lancaster, the 22-year old Sarah Lawrence graduate's death stemmed from over-stimulation produced by the festival's blend of esoteric and challenging independent music, the heat of the Chicago Summer and Yoko Ono herself.

"Everyone knows that when you mix heat, hipsters and Yoko Ono, tragedy is bound to strike," Applebee opined. "Seeing Yoko must've put Harrison over the top. Her high-pitched shriek is the anti-dog whistle, in that normal people hear a shrill, obnoxious wail, while only the specially trained finely honed hipster ear can decipher it's true spastic brilliance. Add that to Harrison's already fragile condition and you have a recipe for spontaneous combustion."

Sadler eulogized his fallen comrade, pouring out a little Pabst Blue Ribbon for the dead.

"It's just so sad that Harrison didn't get to see Deerhunter. I think he would've really loved those kids. There was nothing Harrison enjoyed more than a band making music that really challenged the notions of what it it means to make avant-garde music for art-school kids with trust funds, music critics and avant-garde art-school kids with trust funds who write online music criticism ."

Harrison Lancaster was survived by his parents Chad and Veronica and his turtle, Captain Beefheart.

Download:
MP3: EPMD-"Headbanger"
MP3: The Smiths-"The Headmaster Ritual"

Phone Went West

2007-07-13T03:44:00.001-04:00

I was supposed to have a different post up today, but fate struck in the form of my cell crumbling in my palm last night. Yes, you heard me right, it literally crumbled in my palm. You see a car backfired, I juggled it, caught it in mid-air and when I opened up my hand, it looked like it had been guillotined. I didn't even know such a thing was possible.

Naturally, I have no land-line (thanks telemarketers), so I'm forced to drop everything to go into the Verizon Store to get it fixed. I anticipate this trip will take roughly the run-time of listening to the new T.I. record back to back and will probably be even more dull (if such a thing is possible). The thing about going to a Verizon store is no matter what time of day you roll up , you can always count on a few things to occur: you will wait in a long line while listening to Fergie. Secondly, you will encounter an employee who will give you some sort of static, involving the phrase, "uh...sir your plan doesn't cover that." Third, mid-way through the second hour you will fantasize about committing some sort of mass murder involving a cell phone lighter charger , three of the four Black Eyed Peas (that App. D. App fellow can stay, just because) and a pack of double AA batteries. Maybe that's just me. Either way, I'm just hoping the gods of cellphone maintenance take mercy on my soul. Pray for me.

Download:
MP3: My Morning Jacket-"Phone Went West"
MP3: The Firm-"Phone Tap"

Can You Hate Me More?

Certified Bangers is counting down the Top 100 Rap Singles of All-Time, with MP3's. Awesome.

Crock Tock rates the 10 best chains in America. Can't go wrong with his #1 choice, recently confirmed by our trip to Tennessee.

Blogs for Dogs hips to you the tour dates for the always brilliant Sunset Rubdown's fall tour, complete with a must-have MP3 from their Daytrotter session.

Berkeley Place has some live MP3's of old Led Zep songs performed at this year's Bonnaroo Super Jam session that featured John Paul Jones, ?uestlove and Ben Harper. I wasn't there, as I was seeing Aesop Rock, El-P and Shadow, but I will say that watching John Paul Jones perform "No Quarter" with Gvt. Mule was one of the five musical highlights of the festival.

Galactic Mystery Solves analyzes Rakim and why hip-hop heads give you the Salem Witch treatment if you dare to issue a mild critique of any of his catologue.

Oceans Never Listen loves the new Spoon album. So do I.

Scott Sterling has a new blog on the Metromix website. It is called Blipster. Rest assured, it promises to be great.

The Beastie Boys-The Mix-Up

2007-07-12T04:56:00.001-04:00

Here’s the thing about the Beastie Boys: they’ve always been annoying. Despite their frequent brilliance, success has always come in spite of and not because of Ad-Rock, MCA, & Mike D’s adenoidal yawps and frat-boy lyrics. And yet, despite being blessed with Screech Powers-like voices, the mercurial trio has had an astonishing run over the past three decades.

Then they dropped To the 5 Boroughs, 2004’s feeble concoction of grown-man rap and hoary nostalgia, a record that managed to double as a 45 minute commercial for the NYC Tourism Bureau. It’s not that the record was bad per se, it’s more that listening to it was like seeing the balding Wizard quivering behind the curtain. For the first time in their career, the Beastie Boys were looking backward, vainly groping to make a record that would’ve sounded at home in the rap world circa Licensed to Ill. Without the intricate sonic collage of the Dust Brothers, the weed-break jam interludes of Check Your Head and Ill Communication, or the spaced out playfulness of Hello Nasty to protect them, their flaws were exposed, their voices turned strident and shrill, their personas warped into a dull abyss of gray hair and ancient B-Boy slang. It was the sort of album you hear and immediately say, “Fuck it. This band’s finished.”

Which is why it’s kind of shocking that The Mix-Up is actually good. Here we have 12 eminently listenable grooves indicative of the band’s ability to synthesize a wide variety of noise into a wholly unique sound. Album opener, “B for My Name” shakes with a bell-bottomed funk and the sound of MCA peeling off bass lines that wouldn’t be out of place in a Blaxploitation underworld of fedoras, long black overcoats, and hand-cannons. Think the second half of Check Your Head (i.e. that moment when everyone realized that despite the fact that the Beasties couldn’t really play their instruments, they had the uncanny ability to craft things that just sounded good).

And Yet Sadly, The Beasties Never Possessed the Ability to Make Things Look Good

In that respect, The Mix-Up doesn’t present anything innovative, nor is it any sort of triumphant career coda; it just sounds good. “14th St. Break” floats at stoned heights, pairing psychedelic vaguely Indian-sounding guitars with haunting whirling Rhodes notes courtesy of Money Mark. The Latin vibe of “Suco De Tangerina” sounds like what you’d expect to hear if one of the world’s best Holiday Inn bands decided to guzzle a quart of tequila and chase it with some low-grade Tijuana dirt weed. I’m sure that description alone is enough to convince most people not to give the record a shot, but remember: the Beasties have made a career out of making things work that sound atrocious on paper. (Ever hear the one about the rich white Jewish kids from Long Island that decide to kick raps about beer and girls?)

Touching upon dub, afro-Cuban jazz, hip-hop, and Stax soul, The Mix-Up encompasses nearly every sound the Beasties have attempted in their 28-year existence, save for punk. Sure, it’s a little lazy, a little meandering, and most definitely a little jammy, but it might also be the most fluid and loose-limbed work the band has ever done. Either way, it’s nice to hear something new from a band that clearly needed to mix things up.

Originally published at Stylus

Download:
MP3: The Beastie Boys-"B For My Name"
MP3: The Beastie Boys-"Rat Cage"

Passion Play-Disco Vietnam

2007-07-11T04:42:00.000-04:00

Today marks the debut of Passion Play, an occasional column designed to highlight the notable unsigned bands that send me their demos and actually manage to successfully navigate the treacherous distance between my mail box and my stereo. Yes, Disco Vietnam is the work of fellow Stylus writer, Barry Schwartz, so yes there is obviously a conflict of interest. But to paraphrase, Eric Cartman, it's my hot bloggy, I'll do what I want.

Who: Disco Vietnam

What: (The story of Disco Vietnam in their own words): Barry wrote a song. Barry asked his brother Kenny, who is good at drums to play drums on the song. Then Barry asked Jared who is good at everything to play bass on the song. Then Barry wrote more songs. Barry then asked his brother Kenny, who is good at drums to play drums on these songs. Then Barry asked Jared who is good at everything to play bass on these songs. Then they said, let's name ourselves Disco Vietnam. And then they recorded these songs with this guy named Ryan. Then everyone loved them and they became rich and famous. The end... of the beginning

Where: Huntington Station, NY

When: Disco Vietnam's debut EP, Get at Me Corruption, was released last month to the delight of both disco lovers and Vietnam lovers.

Why: Few bands step out of the box with a debut single as obscenely catchy as Disco Vietnam's "The NP (Natalie Portman)." With wry tongue in-cheek lyrics, jangly Brit-pop guitar chords and propulsive bullet train drums, Disco Vietnam are akin to a cross between Oasis and Ted Leo if they'd grown up in New York, smoking blunts, listening to the Wu and lusting after Natalie Portman, every Jewish male's favorite screen sex symbol. Indeed, Get at Me Corruption is a very solid debut, one vaguely reminiscent of that first Bloc Party EP that had the Internets going nuts a few years back.

In addition to his work fronting Disco Vietnam, lead singer Barry Schwartz also produces some of the best hip-hop beats around. Also produced under the Disco Vietnam moniker, Schwartz's instrumentals bang with a dusty D.I.T.C. rawness, trapped somewhere in a glorious haze between Buckwild and Just Blaze. Plus, one beat called "All Men are Jerks Because All Bitches are Crazy," is perhaps the greatest song title of all-time.

As if this all this wasn't enough to have you checking for Disco Vietnam, the band's Myspace blog might be the best in music. Peep DV's hilarious analysis of Lindsay Lohan and tell me otherwise.

From Get at Me Corruption
MP3: Disco Vietnam-"The NP (Natalie Portman)"

Beards, Blazers & Glasses-The Decemberists, Andrew Bird, Band of Horses @ The Hollywood Bowl

2007-07-10T02:51:00.000-04:00

My best friend hates The Decemberists because he thinks their green screen challenge was a cynical attempt to exploit Stephen Colbert's popularity. Another friend is driven to fits of rage because Decemberists front-man Colin Meloy's faux-Anglo accent contorts simple words like "Crane" into a polysyllabic jumble that spelled phonetically would read something like: craaaaaaahhhhhaaaaayyyyaaaaaannnnnneeeee. (give or take an "e" or two). And I'm sure if you really looked hard enough you could find dozens of reasons to dislike the Decemberists (six of which involve Herman Melville).

I'd totally agree too, if not for the fact that the Decemberists are really really good. Of course, this isn't news. They've been around for five years, dropped four alums, signed to Capitol, and managed to come at #12 on the year-end list of your all your favorite misanthropic weed-head bloggers. But still, there's something about Meloy that puts people off. On-stage, he hides behind a pair of faux-dorky plastic glasses suggesting playground outcast made good. He valiantly tries to rock out but always looks forced and contrived, limbs flailing with stiff and wooden gestures reminiscent of the scene in Austin Powers when Dr. Evil mechanically performs the "macarena"
And then there's his anachronistic and hopefully erudite lyrics which reek of "I'm smart and I know it" arrogance.

But it's cool. Dude's got a right to be cocky. From the start,The Crane Wife was a concept filled with over-ambition and literary conceit. After all, prog-rock epics about Japanese folk tales aren't supposed to make for good listening. But somehow, Meloy pulled it off--flawlessly. With Crane, the 33-year old former creative writing student finally learned how to seamlessly stitch together the mess of ideas in his head, from orchestras constructed on the cheap, to his graceful and labored-over lyrics, to the years of music geekery Meloy spent as a teenager in Montana pair of headphones strapped onto his head, listening to Replacements records (he wrote the 33 1/3rd book on Let it Be)

Is That a Guitar or are You Just Happy to See Me?

Fresh off a whirlwind 12-month promotional blitz that transformed the band from esoteric hipster darlings into standard bearers for the "indie"-fication of the mainstream,
headlining at the Bowl was certainly a crowning moment for Meloy. And backed by the entire Los Angeles Philharmonic, the Decemberists made the most of it, delivering a memorable and virtuoso set, plucking gems off of each of their four records to be fleshed out in fantastic color by the orchestra. A consummate professional, Meloy was able to maximize his advantages and minimize his short-comings, sounding fantastic, stretching syllables to brobdingnagian proportion, voice bouncing smoothly off the Bowl's natural amphitheater. "The Crane Wife" felt monstrous and epic. "O Valencia" swelled to great heights buoyed by the Phil's fluttering strings. "Infanta" made several young hipsters rush off to join the nearest infanta (look in San Pedro, guys.)

Anyhow, the contradiction inherent in the Decemberists was best illustrated by one of the night's highlights, their performance of "Los Angeles, I'm Yours," off of Her Majesty, the Decemberists. As Duke aptly put it: "hearing someone from Portland sing 'its hollowness will haunt you,” and “How I abhor you” about our city seems like a little bit of a fuck you. It’s especially biting when you consider that it’s one of the few songs where Meloy’s not singing from the perspective of an 18th century sea captain....Do you think that after the show, as they read Chaucer on their tour bus, they occasionally glance up from their books and share a laugh about how they got 14,000 Angelinos to sing along to those lyrics? I do."

I do too. But right now, the Decemberists are having the last laugh. And you can't deny that it's truly deserved. Few bands around are as capable of delivering complete and fully realized performances, both live and in the studio. Love him or hate him, you can't deny that Meloy is one of the finest writers in rock. Even if Stephen Colbert's still roughly a thousand times cooler.

Andrew Bird: Nearly as good as Larry, Admiral, & Tweety Bird I've seen Andrew Bird once before and it never ceases to amaze me how talented of a performer he is, playing the violin, the xylophone and the guitar, all of them with great skill, often in the same track. Plus, the guy is a world-champion caliber whistler and just writes fantastic songs. The set was evenly split between 05's excellent, Andrew Bird & the Mysterious Production of Eggs, and this year's comparably good, Armchair Apocrypha. It was all over pretty quickly, just 45 minutes or so, but Bird deservedly won himself a whole lot of new fans. I would've liked to have heard, "Fake Palindromes," my personal favorite of Bird's tunes, but I can't complain.

Band of Horses Lead Singer, Grizzly Adams

I'm surprised how little flak, Band of Horses have gotten for sounding practically identical to My Morning Jacket. Not like it bothers me. They aren't the Editors ripping of Interpol note for note. It's more that along with his Bigfoot Beard, lead singer Ben Bridwell shares Jim James' frail extraterrestrial croon. Which is kind of tough to complain about, considering Jim James probably has the best voice in music. Plus, one time I was at a bar in Seattle, talking about the local music scene with Davey Crockett and his cousin. I mentioned how I liked Band of Horses, to which his cousin pointed at the bartender and informed me that I'd just ordered a beer from Bridwell. That's keeping it real. Either way, BoH was slotted right at the program's 7:30 start time and while the crowd was only 60 percent full, those that were there saw a very impressive performance from a very solid band, one deserving of the hype thrown their way.

See Also You Set the Scene's review of the Show

Photos via Anclroo

Download:
MP3: The Decemberists-"The Crane Wife 1 & 2" (actual crane not included)

MP3: Andrew Bird-"Heretics"

MP3: Band of Horses-"The Funeral"
MP3: Band of Horses-"The Great Salt Lake" (John Stockton not included)

Cohen's Corner

2007-07-09T02:39:00.000-04:00

Ian Cohen usually writes for Stylus. Occasionally, he drops some knowledge on us here at The Passion. Cohen's Corner is something akin to what you'd expect Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey to have been like, if Handey was smarter, jewier and really really into Wu-Tang. Enjoy.

         There are a couple of calls I always look forward to. One is when my fiancée unwittingly goes to Atlanta in the summer and realizes that it’s Gay Pride Day and that there better be a liquor store she can walk to, because she sure as shit won’t be able to get anywhere any time soon. The other is when my mans an’ ‘em Wops calls from New York because he foolishly attempted to take a cab during Puerto Rican Day parade and now it’s in the process of nearly being turned over. Puerto Ricans and gays: two groups who use their day of pride to wave a bunch of flags and fuck up traffic. You’d think they’d get along better, really.
 “Turn On The Bright Lights” is one of the best records of the decade and possibly the only album that sounds as good on an NYC subway as “Muddy Waters.” I also fucked with “Antics” because I missed the memo to do otherwise. With that in mind, here’s my review of the new Interpol record: halfway through my first listen, I decided I’d rather hear “The M.G.M.” instead. Make of that what you will.
 I’d feel more comfortable with the Sixers drafting someone named Thaddeus if the NBA was a yachting league.
  When you’re drinking a Tab, anyone who notices that fact immediately becomes the funniest person in the known universe. This is a fact.
 I’m OK with Pitchfork consistently overrating southern rappers because it leads to hilariously apologetic reviews when they refuse to admit an album sucks in spite of all evidence to the contrary. If they could apply their unconditional love of trap rap to child bearing, they’d all be parents of the year. Someone (you can probably figure out who) actually said this about the new T.I. record: “Even if the concept falls flat, though, T.I. vs. T.I.P. still warrants a listen, if only because T.I. seems constitutionally incapable of releasing an album full of uncompelling music.” When it’s all said and done, I will probably have listened to “Rockstar Mentality” at least a dozen more times than T.I. vs T.I.P.    and that’s a record I actually had to review. T-t-t-totally dude.
                  

Suffice to Say if You are a Rapper With the Word "Boy," or "Boyz" in Your Name, You Probably Suck. Fat Boys Excluded

Not that any trip I take to Ikea ends up something less than profound, but after today's experience in Costa Mesa, I've come to realize that the Old Testament is built upon some pretty egregious lies. Chief amongst them are that Jews really aren't good at building shit; a fucking futon busted my ass, and you're telling me that some Hebrew built a motherfucking ark? Or the Egyptian pyramids? I mean, is it a coincidence that Jesus had to move on to a new line of work?

But now I'm a futon owner, which makes me really excited because now dead prez and I have something in common. And yes, that's pretty much how horrible I am at interior decorator I am; I was willing to drive an hour each way to Orange County because after being in Philadelphia (where there's, like, THREE within driving distance…that's insane) and Athens, I simply have no idea what else to do. Before that, my apartment's décor could best be described as "functional drug abuser," where your furniture consists of a guitar, bed and TV. I know it would set me back about six years or so, but I was ready to go out and buy Radiohead and Van Gogh posters again just to have some shit put up on the walls. Or calling home and saying, "yeah- all those CD's in the garage…ship that shit out. Your son might have to turn his apartment into a soup kitchen because he can't think of shit else to take up space."

I always find the "at least it doesn't suck" line of thinking to be a bit reductive in music criticism. Remember when the Cure came out with that record in 2004? Anyone? Yeah, they have almost none of the original members, the main dude picked a producer that was totally wrong for them and I'll probably never play it two months after its release, but AT LEAST IT DOESN'T SUCK- four stars! In unrelated news, "Zeitgeist."

But Have Billy Corgan and Moby Ever Been Seen Together in the Same Room at the Same Time?

Look, sometimes I think about penning an OST for Stylus for all of Corgan's post-"Adore" works, but then I think better of it because listening to "TheFutureEmbrace" isn't something you're liable to catch me doing when I could be…I dunno…re-reading today's post on Fire Joe Morgan or whatevs. I mean, I'll rep parts of "MACHINA" even though that shit's so overprocessed, M83 could cover it without having to buy one piece of new gear. And was Zwan really that bad? Just looking at some of "Zeitgeist"'s review, you'd think that was Billy doing Wolf Eyes material or a song-for-song interpretation of "Self Portrait."

But here's the strange thing about The Smashing Pumpkins- how do you become that much worse after losing the only two people in the band that didn't do anything? Has that ever happened before? Usually, the control freak ditches the dead weight and carries on just fine…I mean, look at Wham!.

Download:
MP3: Smashing Pumpkins-"Tarantula" (left-click)
MP3: My Morning Jacket-"Careless Whisper" (Wham! Cover) (left-click)

Aesop Rock is Funnier Than Your Favorite Rapper

2007-07-08T17:04:00.000-04:00

The "electronic press kit" for Aesop's forthcoming, None Shall Pass record. Flat-out inspired. If the new record is half as entertaining as this (and judging from the new tracks I heard at Bonnnaroo it is), expect None Shall Pass to be something truly great.

Download:
MP3: Aesop Rock-"None Shall Pass" (left-click)

T.I. Vs. TI-85

2007-07-06T04:30:00.000-04:00

This week marked the release of one of this year's most anticipated rap albums, T.I. Vs. Tip., the follow-up to 2006's T.I.'s hit King, a record that was best summarized by Ian Cohen in just four words: colossal waste of beats.

So far, the buzz on T.I. Vs. Tip has been mostly negative, with its Metacritic score sitting at a tepid 60. But I don't trust Metacritic and its so-called "algorithms." So I consulted with a machine that I've never known to be wrong, the oracle known as The T.I. 85. Indeed, only the calculator of Kings could analyze the real T.I., an artist so diverse he's capable of doing both kinds of rap: gangster rap and Southern rap.

Yes, the TI-85 is so powerful it can solve both convoluted Calculus problems and the problem of how to keep occupied during worthless Calculus classes. (I.E. Snake, Drug War, & Tetris, games so addictive I'm surprised the other T.I. hasn't bragged about selling them). There is only one problem. Namely that of late my ancient calculator is showing the harmful effects of laying dormant for a decade. For some reason, it will only produce out a series of random numbers. Therefore, I have no choice but to interpret the prophecy of the machine

Revelations from the T.I. (85)

Answer: 73

Q: What are the number of minutes on this bloated album.

A: 68

Q: The number of minutes that I'll never listen to again for rest of my life: (The five minutes of "Watch What You Say to Me" are pretty awesome though. )

A: 2

Q: What are the number of past their prime rappers who somehow manage to out-shine T.I. (Busta Rhymes & Jay-Z)

A: 0.001 percent%

Q: What percentage is T.I. Vs. Tip, guest, Eminem of his former self?

A: 9,832

Q: How many times does T.I. call himself the "King."

King Louis XIV: A Much Better King Than T.I. (And Probably Capable of Making a Better Album)
A: 4 percent

Q: What is the percentage of the time that the differences between and T.I. and TIP are readily apparent?

A: Infinite

Q: What is the number of tired gangster tropes and 2-dimensional drug-dealer stereotypes that T.I. recycles on this album.

A: 25

Q: How many rap albums have been made in 2007 that are better than T.I. Vs. Tip.

A: 16

Q: The number of bars it takes for T.I. to wear out his presence on any track.

A: Zero

Q: What is the sense of humor that T.I.possesses.

A: 3.3

Q: The score websites would give T.I. Vs. Tip if an indie rock band released a record this derivative, uninspired and straight-up boring.

Download the only thing on this record worth listening to.
MP3: T.I. (feat. Jay-Z)-"Watch What You Say to Me"

Links from Lovitz

2007-07-05T01:56:00.001-04:00

If you want the real post for today you're going to have to head on over to Floodwatch music , where I'm guest blogging for the day. As you might imagine from the photo above, the post in question concerns one of the most forgettable movies ever made: High School High. More specifically, it analyzes its surprisingly memorable soundtrack, featuring cuts from Wu Tang, Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul & The Roots. Lots of MP3's, lots of jokes about Rollie Fingers, good times. Check it out.

Autopsy of a Soundtrack: High School High

Hi! My Name's Jon, I Enjoy Stand-Up Comedy, Vast Quantities of Food, $1,000 Sunglasses & The Tanning Salon...
In Other News:

I Guess I'm Floating offers a full stream of Arizona's upcoming EP

Nerd Litter Posts His 10 Best Albums of the Year Thus Far

Hidden Track offers up the 10 Best Singing Drummers

Dave Rawkblog makes a 4th of July mixtape

Souled on Music drops some gems ranging from Roberta Flack and Willie Hightower to MF Doom and Biggie rarities

Jamie Radford sheds some light on an "ironic" hip-hop fashion company and their models who should all be placed in a burlap sack and beaten with reeds.

Beers, Blazin' & Beads: Widespread Panic

2007-07-03T02:51:00.000-04:00

When I told a friend that I was seeing Widespread Panic at the Orpheum last Friday, he did a double-take, flashing a look of derision that suggested that I'd told him I was seeing Fergie live--re-defining "Fraggle Rock" for the new millenium (see pictures from her tour here.) Of course, I understood my friend's bewilderment. This is the year 2007. It's the year of unwarranted presidential pardons. It's the year of Paris Hilton going to jail. It's the year of Mims. It's the year of the apocalypse. The point, if I indeed have one, is that this isn't the coolest time to be a "jam" fan.

If this were the late 90s and we were taking gravity bong hits inside a dorm room in Burlington, jam bands would probably make more sense. By contrast, those seem like the salad days of the Jam-era, a time when 2-ton dinosaurs like Phish, Panic, String Cheese, Moe, and the inexplicably popular acoustic yodels of Dave Matthews, stalked the dormitories of every east coast college kid with a bong and an eighth to burn. But Phish is dead. No one ever really liked Moe in the first place. String Cheese are on their final victory lap, (inevitably, choking on the second-hand smoke). And as for Dave Matthews, the Onion story: Dave Matthews-Not that Into himself Any More aptly summed him up.

Which leaves Athens-based Panic as the last hope of the old guard. A band who for better or worse has been unfairly saddled with the "jam band" tag, thanks to a knack for, it-sounds-really cool-when-you're-stoned guitar solos. But aside from being a guitar band that jams, Panic aren't at all like the former jam kings, Phish. Where Phish fused the Dead's genre-mashing and skill at covers to form a wholly new, light-hearted sound, Panic takes its clues from the gritty dirt-under-the fingernails, Southern rock that Duane and Greg Allman cooked up nearly 40 years ago.

The "Widespread" Portion of the Name Concerns Bassist and Horatio Sanz Look-A-Like, Dave Schools (Second From Right)

Watching Panic on-stage strikes you with the feeling that you're seeing rock n' roll as it was meant to be played, primal, bluesy and raw. A six-piece in perfect harmony, the band rifles off otherworldly guitar licks, rollicking keys, and stadium-sized snare hits, backed by John "JB" Bell's whiskey-soaked croon. Rocking the tiny art-deco Orpheum, Panic's powerful combination of energy and sound pushing your wig back, flooding into your ears. Loud.

Of course, at this point, you might be wondering how I've even made it four paragraphs writing about a Widespread Panic show without even mentioning any form of illicit substance. Good point. Attending a Panic show sober is like attending a Klan meeting nude. You feel even more out of place than you'd normally feel. Not to mention there is the high probability that you'll leave the room feeling a great deal more disturbed by humanity than you ever thought possible.

The place is a veritable pharmaceutical wonderland. Dudes knife through the crowd shouting, "doses," "rolls," "molly." People get carried out on stretchers. Post-show, the parking lot abruptly turned into a whippet party. I kid you not. As a friend pointed out, "what is this, 2001?" These people know how to party. And they do it well, giving off an air of conviviality and affability sorely lacking in Los Angeles. Everyone smiles, carrying strong drink in their hands. It's the sort of scene where you're as apt to run into one of LA's best bloggers, as you are to stumble into a drugged out hippie, begging you to give up your backstage pass just to sit next to Panic lead guitarist Jimmy Herring for two minutes.

The Actual Picture You Get When You Google Image Search "Widespread Panic Show"

It isn't high school. Bands aren't "cool" or "uncool" (except for the Killers, who are most definitely uncool.) They're good or bad. And Widespread Panic are very good. Their lyrics might not be the most erudite, their sound might not be the most original. But they have a heart and a soul to them that 99 percent of modern indie rock bands and rappers lack.

Tireless performers, they played three hours, pouring every ounce of energy that they had into the show. And they've done it night in and night, with a different set list each night, for 20-plus years. I'm not about to drop everything and follow these guys x-country, but I can't fault anyone for wanting to do so for at least a week or two. Just be forewarned that if a guy comes up and asks you to buy some "Molly," he isn't trying to sell you bootlegged DVD's of the Breakfast Club.

Download:
MP3: Widespread Panic-Live @ Bonnaroo 6/17/07 (left-click)

Pharoahe Monch-Desire

2007-07-02T01:57:00.000-04:00

Hip-hop history is littered with MC’s blessed with scythe-sharp flows and Byzantine lyrics who couldn’t pick out a dope beat if their life depended on it (see also Kass, Ras). Now I wouldn’t go as far as to lump Pharoahe Monch in with the tin-eared rabble, but over the course of five albums and 16 years, Pharoahe has produced just one single capable of cracking Billboard’s Top 100. And even that lone quasi-hit, 1999’s ”Simon Says,” peaked at #97.

Of course, with most rappers, an inability to select mammoth show-stopping beats would be the death-knell. Imagine T.I. stripped of Just Blaze and Toomp’s trunk-rattling bangers, or the Game without his Dre-aping cadre of no-names. But with Pharoahe, it almost doesn’t matter. After all, the mark of a great rapper isn’t what he does with a banging beat, it’s what he does with a mediocre one.

With the exception of maybe Ghostface, few rappers in history have ever successfully transcended ho-hum soundscapes better than Pharoahe. With a knack for clever similes (“leave you die laughing like John Ritter”), complicated internal rhyme schemes (“Pharoahe’s flows blow shows like afros”), and a voice that rocks and sways with the hell-fire and brimstone cadence of a Pentecostal preacher, the beats very often take a backseat. And rightfully so.

Pharoahe Monch: A Huge Fan of Comical Misunderstandings

In that vein, Desire, Pharoahe’s long-anticipated return to the rap world after a near decade hiatus, is very much a mixed bag. Beat-wise nothing stands on its own merits, lacking the grimy cohesion of Pharoahe’s self-produced Organized Konfusion jaunts and the straight-out-of-the-bowels of hell turmoil of Internal Affairs. Constructed by a hodge-podge of producers, from underground leading light Black Milk, to Alchemist, to long-time collaborator Lee Stone, to Kon Artis from D-12, to Monch himself, Desire’s successes stem chiefly from Pharoahe’s unimpeachably brilliant rhyme skills.

Where Internal Affairs felt like the work of a deranged sociopath bent on murder and mayhem, Desire feels almost tranquil in comparison. Of course, Monch’s penchant for conspiracy mongering is still indulged: Citbank is watching over you, the Klan is somehow involved with clearing music samples, the United States is controlled by a Masonic conspiracy, etc. And there’s still gun talk a-plenty, with “When the Gun Draws” revamping the Organized Konfusion classic “Stray Bullet,” as Pharoahe somehow sounds fresh in spite of the tired trope of rapping from a gun’s perspective.

But Desire is so much more than a mere rehash of past glory, thanks to Monch’s ability to balance his cerebral paranoia with a healthy dose of experimentation. Celebratory first single “Push,” provides one of the album’s most satisfying moments (even if it could use a bit more rapping), with Pharoahe enlisting Tower of Power to lace the track with a swaggering and soulful slice of East Bay Soul. “Desire,” the album’s second single moves with similarly funky rhythms. On it, Pharoahe sounds the most sanguine he’s ever been, triumphantly declaring victory over his demons and label woes. Even “Body Baby,” the record’s maligned third single succeeds, as Pharoahe manages to turn something that could’ve resembled Gnarls Barkley at their worst, into a modest triumph.

Wanna Buy a Mon-chi-chi?

Sure, it’s not all perfect. A skit about “the stranger” (yes, that stranger) head-scratchingly concludes the end of “Let’s Go.” The Soulquarian, Erykah Badu-assisted funk of “Hold On” shows why Badu shouldn’t be allowed within 100 feet of great rappers. A Milk production on “Bar Tap” shamelessly appropriates Premier’s brilliant beat for “Betrayal.” And don’t even get me started on the nine-and-a-half minutes of “Trilogy,” which manages to indulge in some Love Below-esque levels of wankery.

But despite its flaws, this record is—and will remain—better than 99.9 percent of all rap albums released this year. Once again devoid of a perfect booming beat capable of snatching radio airplay, Monch isn’t about to escape the subterranean rap ghetto anytime soon. But Desire will satisfy anyone seeking intricately constructed and brilliantly spit verses from one of the best rappers to ever do it. Hell, it’s a Pharoahe Monch album in the year 2007. What else do you desire?

Originally Published at Stylus

Download:
MP3: Pharoahe Monch-"Desire"
MP3: Pharoahe Monch-"Push"

Links Presented By Jeff Foxworthy

2007-06-29T01:51:00.000-04:00

I don't own a working television, so until last night I'd never actually seen an episode of Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader, rightfully judging from the title alone that this show might be the nadir of American culture in the year 2007. Seriously, how in god's name doesn't everyone come home with at least a cool $100,000 after appearing? Is it that hard to answer what state is east of California? Or what disease Jonas Salk invented the vaccine for? The show ought to be called Are You Smarter than a 7-year old With Down's Syndrome, or possibly Are you smarter than your average Judas Priest fan circa 1982, or maybe even, Are You Smarter than Young Jeezy. All are better concepts, I can assure you that.

But last night, I finally tuned to America's second lamest phenomenon (So You Think You Can Dance clearly taking the fucking cake). The reason: one of my friends randomly tried out, got picked and ended up bringing home a half million dollars. No joke. A cool occasion for sure, and certainly a worthy excuse for not having a full-fledged blog today. Then again, it is a Friday, and those two very healthy-sized Jack on the Rocks' I pounded earlier this evening aren't planning on going away any time soon. Hell, I'm a shot away from making the outlandish claim that I invented the question mark (and the appositive).

With such a frightening realities being close at hand, I'd like to get to this week's links. But before I do, can we all have a moment and discuss the weirdness that is Jeff Foxworthy and his mustache? Who's the guy fooling? Not even he can believe that the muskrat attached to his upper lip really needed to make it into the 21st century? Couldn't the 'stach have remained an auburn colored-vestige of the mid-90s post-Seinfeld sitcom boom. Along with Margaret Cho's All American Girl and Cleghorne!

You Might Be a Redneck if You Look Like Jeff Foxworthy

Berkeley Place has MP3's of what is apparently one of the White Stripes' earliest shows.

Know Good Music: The title says it all.

Over the past several months, Floodwatch has quietly become one of the best and most eclectic blogs around. A serious must read (even though I am a little biased as Flood was one of my guest bloggers last week).

I'll eventually have something on the mess that is the new T.I. album, but there might not be a point since Joey's review completely nailed it.

Wake Your Daughter Up does part two of his drops on Golden Age era labels. This time it's Wild Pitch.

Nerd Litter returns with The best 10 singles of the mid-year

The always excellent From Da' Bricks breaks down some of Diamond D's beats from Pharoahe Monch's Internal Affairs record.

This Onion article: Bar Skanks Announce Plans to Kiss is even funnier that it's title would suggest.

Beards, Blazers & (Frat) Boys?: The National

2007-06-28T05:08:00.001-04:00

I'll spare the long-winded review of the National show. I've made my thoughts on the band clear on one, or two, or three occasions. They're a very good band with an even better live show, so it really shouldn't come as much a surprise that the El Rey was packed to the gills with fans, bristling with anticipation at the prospect of seeing the cuts from Boxer performed live in Los Angeles for the first time.

Stranger was the make-up of the crowd, with nary a hipster in sight. In their stead were sorority girls, frat boys, in-the-know slick Hollywood types and the few die-hards that have been down with the cause since Day 1 (if day one means when Alligator was released). Granted, the El Rey is on the Westside, but still... I'm not trying to play the "oh man, if you didn't see them on tour with Clap Your Hands in '05 then you're totally out of the know" card either (though they really did blow CYHSY out of the water). But it still defies logic that the National have become a "trendy" band.

We Got Poindexter on the Violins

I mean take a look at these guys, there is absolutely nothing trendy about them. Nothing. Just a bunch of unpretentious dudes in work shirts and jeans. And we're not talking a bunch of jaded wispy hipsters named Casablancas and Fabrizio, these guys are far from pretty boys. Not to hate on them, as I have the utmost respect for the band, but there's a reason why Ian Cohen and I have spent a great deal of time debating whether or not The National or Asobi Seksu are the least attractive band in America. (my vote still goes to Asobi, save for their lead singer)

As for their sound, it isn't pretty populist Shins-esque pop, or Arcade Fire-like bombast. Their tunes certainly display first rate songwriting and craft, but essentially the last two National records are what everyone wished Interpol would've done after Turn on the Bright Lights. Meanwhile, National lead singer Matt Berninger does the whole Ian Curtis thing as well as anyone can, but it ain't like he's exactly that charismatic. He rarely talks to the crowd and his stage demeanor vacillates between two nearly indistinguishable variations: rocking mode and swaying mode. With the rocking mode featuring Berninger performing a move that vaguely resembles the Mongolian Chop as performed by Kin Korn Karn in the old NES game Pro Wrestling.

Pro Wrestling's Kin Korn Karn: A Huge Influence on The National

And yet no one in the crowd cared a bit. The affected LA Westsiders weren't exactly rocking out, (probably because the set leaned heavily on Alligator), but I did see a couple frat boys raising the roof, and after the show the unanimous sentiment seemed to be in favor of the band's awesomeness. I couldn't argue with them either. It was my second time seeing the band in as many weeks and both performances were stellar, further evidence that they are one of the best bands making music today. Just don't be surprised if the next time you see them live, the cans of PBR are strangely absent. Judging from these dudes' new fan base, it's strictly jaeger shots, brah.

All photos courtesy of Akmal Naim. Check out his Flickr page for more outstanding shots.

Download:
MP3: The National-"Fake Empire"
MP3: The National-"Mistaken For Strangers"

Beards, Blazers & Backpacks- DJ Shadow/Cut Chemist: Hard Sell @ the Hollywood Bowl

2007-06-27T04:43:00.000-04:00

P hoto by Carlie Armstrong

The Hollywood Bowl is probably the best venue in the world. Yes, I'm aware that you can't prove those types of statements, just as I'm also aware of the probability that there are probably a half dozen other places on earth, equally as fantastic. But for all practical purposes, the Bowl is Los Angeles at its best, a gorgeous natural amphitheater carved into the sloping green and brown Hollywood Hills, filled with clarion sound, perfect unobstructed sight lines and a liquor policy that lets you to bring in as many bottles of wine as you can stash into your picnic basket. (No Yogi Bear.)

Accordingly, playing "the Bowl" is the sort of honor that lets musicians know that they finally "made it," so it was a little strange hearing that DJ Shadow and Cut Chemist, were going to play 2007's opening weekend. Not strange as in bad, but strange as in how far hip-hop and the DJ art form have come in the decade-plus since Shadow re-invented hip-hop instrumentalism with Endtroducing. Indeed, it was almost a coronation of sorts for the two pioneers of the art form, especially since Cut Chemist is a hometown boy and one of the the greatest DJs the city has ever produced.

So maybe it made perfect sense after all, for a legendary venue like the Bowl to host two master craftsmen unveiling "Hard Sell," Chemist and Shadow's latest impossibly funky concoction, following on the legendary heels of their two previous collabos,"Brainfreeze" and "Product Placement." And in spite of the colossal expectations raised by its predecessors, the "Hard Sell," set completed what might be the best trilogy since Back to the Future.

Sadly, "Hard Sell" Contained No ZZ Top

Commencing with a short parody tutorial film about vinyl and the art of DJ-ing, Chemist and Shadow managed to school the uninitiated on the science of turntablism, while simultaneously winking at the hip-hop heads and beat junkies who climbed out of the basement to make their way to the Bowl on a warm and clear June night. As for the set itself, as Oliver Wang astutely pointed out, it's a little pointless to run down the playlist. You just can't articulate what it's like to have your mind blown by these herky-jerky, sliced and diced symphonies, while sitting in a cathedral of noise, watching the pair control eight decks with near flawless precision. Behind them, a video screen flickered with weird stoner images of Transformer jukeboxes firing 7" records, giant Big Brother-esque eyeballs and even old black and white clips of Bogart in Casablanca.

Less funk and soul based than its predecessors, "Hard Sell" ran the gamut, from oldies like the Flamingos' "I Only Have Eyes for You" to post-grunge like Foo Fighters "Everlong." The set's highlight (and perhaps its heart) was a segment devoted to the hip-hop classics. The Pharcyde's "Passin' Me By" melded with Gangstarr's "Dwyck," Prince Paul breaks from 3 Feet High and Rising bumped heads with Nas' "Made You Look" (the only song I can still actually listen to from God's Son).

"Hard Sell's" quasi-experimental fusion of genres make it a bit less seamless than Brainfreeze and Product Placement, yet it's no less brilliant, particularly when pared with the opportunity to see it at the Bowl. It might never reach the almost mythic status surrounding the first Brainfreeze performance, held on a winter night eight years ago in San Francisco, but it's hard to imagine any DJ show getting much better than this. From the buzz floating around at the after-party, Chemist and Shadow are planning on taking the show on the road and I highly recommend checking it out. It really shouldn't be such a hard sell.

Also see: Oliver Wang's incredibly comprehensive and knowledgeable take.

Download:
MP3: DJ Shadow & Cut Chemist-"Brainfreeze" (left-click)

The Old Man and the Sea Level

2007-06-26T04:23:00.001-04:00

Having grown up in LA, I didn't need a big article in Billboard to remind me that practically every single record record store in town, save for Amoeba has gone out of business over the past five years. One by one, the music stores of my adolescence have shut their doors. From the old Rhino Records in Westwood triggering memories of an overcast winter Saturday, 14 years old and mystified by the cover of Liquid Swords; to the Tower Records on Sunset, June 2, 1997, waiting in line to buy Wu-Tang Forever, at Midnight (with a free Wu jersey handed out as a bonus for our dedication;) to the countless Wherehouses, Sam Goodies, and Penny Lane's that used to lurk around every sun-splashed corner.

That was a decade ago, antediluvian in instant Internet time, before the music biz slid off a cliff of illegal downloading, Best Buy bulk buying domination (how else do you think they sold Fishscale for $6) and the black hole known as Amoeba Records. A great record store for sure, but one who by sheer awesomeness of size, taste and buying power further accelerated the decline of the little guys. Little guys like Echo Park's Sea Level Records, one of LA's last standing independent record shops, who closed up shop last night.

Sea Level owner, Todd Clifford made the decision to send Sea Level to that great record pasture in the sky about a month ago, but I waited to write about it, accepting the bad news the way I always do: refusing to believe it until the tangible concrete evidence looked me dead-on in the eyes. Which happened to me at about 11:15 p.m. last Friday night, when the boys from Division Day, aided by some special guest helpers, did a cover of the Boyz II Men school commencement staple, "It's So Hard to Say Goodbye" (which my 8th grade graduation. class was actually forced to sing). Nice work guys, you did a whole lot better than we did.

Sea Level Owner, Todd Clifford, Showing the Rugged Work Ethic And Abstemious Values Required to Survive a Day As a Music Store Clerk

Sea Level started in 2001, so it certainly wasn't the first place I ever bought a record at, but it was the sort of place I wished I'd bought my first album at. A cluttered and cramped High Fidelity-esque playground, papered in old concert handbills, 90s Matador Pavement and GBV promos and tons of dusty old vinyl. The ideal spot for Junior High kids to rush in with weekly allowances tucked into their palms, filled with the nervous anticipation of buying a record, rushing home to put it into your stereo, hoping it as good as they'd heard it was.

About three or four months ago, Todd went off on tour to sell merch for the Silversun Pickups and thanks to Sea Level's other employee, Sylvia, I got to fulfill every music geek's lifelong dream: being the jerky guy behind the counter making snide remarks about used Kenny Loggins records. All things considered, it was pretty awesome getting the opportunity to see the way in which Sea Level fostered a true sense of community for the Eastside music scene. It was a rare anachronism in Los Angeles: an oasis for music junkies ranging from music writers like Duke, Jax and Kevin Bronson, to nearly every indie band east of La Brea, to the packs of Mexican and Phillipino teenagers that came in off their skateboards to read magazines and kill time talking about music for hours, to the weird ripped old dude that used to come in every week, hoping that his Ibiza Volume 6 album had finally come in.

One of Sea Level's 685, 321 In-Stores

If video killed the radio star, the Internet slaughtered the record store. And in record time (no Buggles.) I suppose it's the impersonal nature of the digital age, with its inexorable inertia to reduce all bits of information into 0's and 1's, forever stripping away the personalized touch of buying physical copies of records. Maybe it's more efficient, but I think I can speak for all us music junkies when I say that I'll always miss the instant connection you used to feel when you'd buy an album, studying the liner notes, reading the album lyrics and trying to figure out the over-arching meaning of it all, if there was any. Most of all, I'll miss going to Sea Level and all the places like it, those last bastions of an actual community that feel like relics of a by-gone era. Maybe I'm just growing old and crotchety before my time, or maybe I'm just a little biased, but it feels as though the city is losing something that won't be easily replaced. RIP Sea Level. You will be missed.

Download:
MP3: Boyz II Men-"It's So Hard to Say Goodbye"
MP3: The Beatles-"Hello, Goodbye"

My Morning Jacket-At Dawn & Tennessee Fire Demos

2007-06-25T06:23:00.001-04:00

In the decade thus far, scores of pretenders have been hyped as having that elevated and hopelessly nebulous notion of greatness (thanks for stopping by Strokes!). In reality, only a handful of bands have emerged that can be lassoed into such a discussion. My Morning Jacket is one of them. Before you scoff, consider the details. Their 1999 debut, The Tennessee Fire remains an impressive achievement for a band just out their teens and 2001’s At Dawn was far from a sophomore slump, but still could’ve benefited from some judicious editing (particularly on eight-minute pastoral rambles like “13” and “Honest Man”).

But like any truly great band, they matured and finally achieved greatness sometime around the one minute mark of the fifth track, “One Big Holiday” on their third record, It Still Moves. It was the band’s first certified rock anthem, a thrashing but hopelessly soulful burner, the sort of thing you’d have expected Al Green to have cut in 1973 if, for some reason, he decided to drink a quart of whiskey and record with Crazy Horse. At this point, MMJ had already ditched Darla for the world of the majors, and with it all the promotion muscle that being on ATO, Dave Matthews’ vanity label, could bring. Coupled with a punishing touring schedule that helped spread the gospel of their otherworldly brilliant stage show and an even better follow-up record, Z, and it wasn’t hard to see why My Morning Jacket had become the rare band capable of uniting the precarious divide between the worlds of hippies and hipsters.

The At Dawn and Tennessee Fire Demos are a testament to a time when the band was merely good. As the story goes, Darla’s first pressing of At Dawn came with a bonus demos album, consisting of mostly acoustic stripped-down versions of the songs from the record. Great news if you’re one of the (unfortunately named) Jacket Heads that got in early and snapped up the long out-of-print disc. Not so interesting for casual observers who will hear this once, get impressed by the stark beauty of James’ ethereal voice, and rightfully conclude that spare tranquility is the last thing At Dawn lacked.

My Morning Jacket Lead Singer: Chewbacca

In other words, listening to the demos of At Dawn fan would be hard-pressed to sustain these tracks’ meandering lilt while operating heavy machinery. That said, they do highlight one thing: the demos serve as a testament to the inherent on repeat is possibly the best cure for insomnia ever invented. The songs remain gorgeous, rootsy ballads, but even the biggest MMJmelodicism that James possesses, something oft-forgotten in the rush of praise allotted to his voice and flying “V” guitar pyrotechnics.

In addition to the At Dawn demos, Darla has tacked on some other previously un-released rarities. Several demos from The Tennessee Fire, which vacillate between dull, pleasant placidity (“I Think I’m Going to Hell,” “The Bear”) and intriguing Guided by Voices-like experiments in lo-fidelity (“Picture of You,” “Butch Cassidy”), as well as the demo for “Chills,” the b-side from “Off the Record,” and stirring renditions of Tennessee Fire cuts “War Begun” and “It’s About Twilight Now,” recorded live for Louisville radio station WFPK.

Only three of the album’s twenty cuts have never been released in any form, including the proto-punk thrash of early live show staple “L’il Billy,” the somber Johnny Cash homage “Lead Me Father,” and an abbreviated 58 second clip of a song called “Magic Man.” (Sadly, not a cover of the Heart song.) None of the new songs are bad, but none of them leave you wondering why they were left in the vaults in the first place either. The At Dawn & Tennessee Fire demos package isn’t about to win the Jacket any new fans, but it will most certainly satisfy collectors and die-hards looking to piece together a more complete portrait of a great band in their nascent stage of development. At Dawn indeed.

Originally Published at Stylus

Download:
MP3: My Morning Jacket-"It's About Twilight Now (Live at WFPK)" (left-click)
MP3: My Morning Jacket-"War Begun (Live at WFPK)" (left-click)

Back In Business/11 Conclusions From 11 Days on the Road

2007-06-22T02:08:00.000-04:00

11 days, 4,000 miles later and 6,732 people who told me that "it might be cheaper to fly," I'm finally back in Los Angeles, a little older and a little Weisser (and yet, clearly still not wise enough to stop making bad puns). I suppose the standard question everyone wants to know is how was it? Of course, it's more than a little futile to try to sum up 11 days of music and madness in just a few sentences. As I mentioned last week, I covered the Festival for Kevin Bronson's LA Times Buzz Bands blog, so if you're at all still interested in my thoughts on the festival itself, head over there for some belated coverage.

As for the extra-curricular activities that help to make Bonnaroo the best festival in the States, well, they're unpublishable on a family-friendly blog such as this one. And when I mean unpublishable, I mean that I'm in the process of writing something more comprehensive for Stylus. Tune in at some point next week. Until then, check out my road trip partner, Davey Crockett's thoughts on the festival.

As for my travels across the United States, I arrived at many revelations and conclusions, the greater majority of which were pretty obvious, possibly defamatory and positively puerile. Originally, I had planned on avoiding such a post, but thought better of when I realized that pointing out obvious, puerile and slanderous things is what blogging is all about it. Game on.

1. Contrary to popular belief, Flagstaff, Az. on a Monday night is not a happening place. Consequently, it is not a wise move to believe hotel clerks that brag about a famous "Martini Mondays" at the local Sports Bars. Also not a wise move? Deciding to throw a "Martini Mondays" night at the local sports bar in Flagstaff, Az.

2. At certain McDonalds' restaurants, they offer something called a Minty Mudslide. Ostensibly, this refers to a certain type of milkshake. However, I am reasonably sure that the fiendish minds at McDonald's named it after a bizarre German sex act. Drink it at your own peril.

3. The world would be a much better place if they had Steak N-Shakes and Waffle Houses' in Los Angeles. Waffle House's All Star Special Breakfast with cheese n' eggs, cheese n' grits, sauge & Raisin bread is that crack. Literally. As every night the Murfeesboro, Tennessee Waffle House fills up with crack whores past 2 a.m. True story.

If You Take Away The U and the S and the E, You Get....Nevermind

4. In a decade filled with brilliant posse cuts (top 10 Posse Cuts of the 90's list coming soon), "Flipmode Squad Meets Def Squad" from Busta Rhymes' The Coming is the most underrated and perhaps one of the five best. Of course, it's clear which crew was better. You can argue that Red and Busta's verses cancel each other out. But Keith Murray bests Rampage in the weed carrier shoot-out every single time.

Download:
MP3: Busta Rhymes feat. Redman, Keith Murray, Rampage et. al-"Flipmode Squad Meets Def Squad." (left-click)

5. Speaking of underrated, The Lords of the Underground's 1993, Marley Marl-produced Here Comes the Lords is probably the most underrated rap album of the decade. I'll have more on this soon. In the meantime, listen to "Here Comes the Lords" and try to argue with me.

Download:
MP3: Lords of the Underground-"Here Comes the Lords" (left-click)

6. Inhaling at the Clinton Library in Little Rock? A must. Nothing says trippy like Janet Reno and Donna Shalala.....on weed.

More Like Donna Shalalove

7. Naming a restaurant, Grandma Max's is just a bad idea. I'm fully in favor of people being themselves. However, I am not willing to frequent a restaurant named after transvestite grandparents. Maybe that's just me.

8. The only drug you can't get at Bonnaroo is weed. Figure that one out.

9. There are places in America that are so redneck that they put thousand island on burritos. The fact that this actually can and does occur is as strong an argument for increased Mexican immigration as any.

10. Truckers are apparently the only people in America that still listen to cassette tapes. According to my informal survey, the most popular trucker tapes in America are Bread's Greatest Hits, Frampton Comes Alive and The Best of Deep Purple.

11. Upon entering the state of Tennessee, the song "Tennessee" by Arrested Development should always be played at a very high volume. If possible, one should also go down to Peach St. and/or play a game of horseshoes.

Download:
MP3: Arrested Development-"Tennessee" (left-click)

Where You Should Be Friday Night

2007-06-21T22:13:00.000-04:00

Here. C'mon...you know you want to.

Autopsy of a Verse: Kool G Rap

2007-06-20T07:11:00.000-04:00

While Jeff is being nursed back to reality in the decompression chamber, I thought I’d take some time away from my curator duties at floodwatchmusic.com to share a story with you. You see, back in the day, I used to catch terrible hell from my friends whenever the subject of the “greatest rapper ever” was broached. It was all in good fun, of course, but my vehement insistence that Kool G Rap was greater than Nas, Biggie, Kane, KRS, and yes, Rakim, was always met with laughter and ridicule. In my daydreams I envisioned a different scenario: I would quickly locate the nearest stereo, pop in a cassette of “Men at Work,” hold my arms out in a cocky “what?” pose, and watch in delight as they scurried around the floor to pick up their jaws. It never really happened that way, of course, but I refused to be swayed, and I still feel the same about the Kool Genius to this day.

Everyone generally acknowledges in some way or another the man’s undeniable importance in the development of hip hop, but few truly comprehend the gravity of the following fact: Kool G Rap is one of the rare few MCs who excelled at every aspect of lyricism. Deadly battle rhymes. Multi-syllabic wordplay. An endless stream of metaphors and puns. Visceral storytelling. Humorous punchlines. Raunchy sex raps. Violent gangster fantasies. The only item missing from G Rap’s legacy is a solid, start-to-finish classic album, which is why it hardly came as a surprise when he was nowhere to be found on the final tally of Jeff and Joey’s Top 25 Greatest Hip Hop Albums a month ago. Regardless – and I hate to play the “if it weren’t for x there would be no y” card – but suffice it to say that if you can recite every lyric from Ready to Die, Illmatic, or 36 Chambers, you would do well to familiarize yourself with G Rap’s early trilogy of releases with DJ Polo and gain some insight on the genesis of the much-heralded mid-‘90s New York era of hip hop.

Among the multitude of his supreme lyrical abilities, perhaps what I love most about G Rap is the way he could take any beat with a fast tempo and, seemingly without any preparation, suddenly launch into a furious tirade of crass obscenities, hilariously outrageous braggadocio, and a predilection for the most brutal and grotesque ways in which he will take his opponent’s life. By the end of one of these unstoppable tongue-lashings, one would have to be out of their fucking skull to cross Kool G Rap, unless they needed to satisfy some masochistic death wish. “’Nuff Said,” from 1992’s criminally underrated Live and Let Die, is one of my favorites, a two-minute verbal asswhooping that’s so wildly over the top it frequently borders on comic. Let’s dissect G Rap’s form, blow by blow.

Here's the motherfucking magnificent,
I'll even bag innocent motherfuckers, see suckers like they was ten a cent.
So if you come in my way, great, I pull out the trey-eight,
Kool G Rap's your fate and not your playmate.

Producer Sir Jinx opens the track with a four-bar intro of drum teases and scratching before letting the track loose. G Rap patiently waits for his cue, that downbeat for him to begin by titling himself “the magnificent” and claiming to coldly take out innocent bystanders. There are two techniques of note here. G Rap’s substitutes “motherfucking” or some similar variation to act as ‘filler’ syllables, which some may claim as lazy, but rarely does he overdo it (see GZA’s “Swordsman”). He also introduces his proficiency at stringing together vowel sounds (“great/eight/fate/playmate”), a now-required lyrical skill that he practically invented back in '88. He continues:

So all you niggas on the floor bitching that shit is dead,
Tell it to the motherfucking mortician.
So get ready to let the lead out, I'm knocking niggas dead out,
And blowing the back of your fucking head out.
Cooking niggas better than mama's dinner,
So let the drama enter, I'm sending niggas to the trauma center.
Because I'm rolling with force, tearing niggas out the frame
Like they was pictures of a bitch that I divorced.

At this point in the track G Rap is already on a roll, and the punchlines begin to tumble out uncontrollably. In the first couplet, he eschews a comparable end rhyme for “dead” to instead rhyme “bitching” with “mortician,” a technique that provides some variation to his pacing, which he then follows with a triple rhyme scheme. While the compound rhyming of “mama’s dinner” with “drama enter” and “trauma center” is staggering enough, G Rap follows it with one of my personal favorite lines, the “tearing niggas out the frame like they was pictures of a bitch that I divorced.”

Boss, so come on nigga, get wild and loose,
I whoop your motherfucking ass and get arrested for child abuse.
Even your bitch can get it, nigga,
I shove the barrel of a nine up her behind and pull the fuckin’ trigger.
Going psycho like Norman Bates, G, you better sedate,
Because lately niggas ain't able to take me.
It ain't a man in the land that can stand G Rap,
Save that candy rap shit for the handicapped.

Now he’s angry. G Rap continues with a misogynistic couplet that admittedly has some juicy alliteration, then constructs one of the most impressive quadruple compound rhyme schemes of his career, the glorious “Bates, G/sedate/lately/take me.” Rappers have always loved to drop some sort of reference to Hitchcock’s Psycho in their battle rhymes, but rarely in a context as intricate as this. The last couplet, from a technical standpoint, is absolutely breathtaking, as he crafts a complex rhyme pattern using the “-and” and “-ap” sounds. One would think that G Rap had completely exhausted the possibilities of rhyming his name, yet he executes not only one but two compound rhymes (“candy rap/handicapped”).

Niggas will get slayed like a bunch of play pirates.
Fucking with me, ya’ll would rather fuck with the AIDS virus.
Cause I set ‘em up, wet ‘em up like sprinkles,
And put niggas to sleep longer than Rip Van Winkle.
The thicker the shit, the quicker the hit, I'm kicking a fit,
Leaving niggas sicker than Liberace's dick.
Good luck, another hood bucked,
I kick you so far up your ass I get my motherfucking foot stuck.

I don’t believe there has been a more creative warning of the dangers of HIV than rhyming “play pirates” with “AIDS virus.” G Rap dips into his bag of similes here with a literary allusion, then a pop culture reference to ‘70s Vegas icon Liberace that’s just laugh-out-loud cruel. He also varies his cadence here, ranging from hyper-syllabic (“set ‘em up, wet ‘em up”) to a polyrhythmic juxtaposition against the beat (“thicker the shit,” etc.).

See, I manage to give niggas more than a bandage,
Blue Cross and Blue Shield couldn't cover the motherfucking damage.
‘Cause I'm bold and bigger, putting manholes in niggas
And holding triggers up to them gold diggers.
So if you all over my dick just like a rubber,
My rap is so fat, I make sales from fucking whale blubber.
You better duck, ‘cause like a volcano when I erupt,
You bitch ass rappers are getting fucked.

G Rap continues with the verbal slaughtering, his uninterrupted flow mowing down armies of opponents like a Gatling gun. He drops another phenomenal quadruple rhyme scheme beginning with “bold and bigger” before venturing into the nonsensical (the bizarre “whale blubber” line). I know it’s somewhat simplistic compared to its surroundings, but I love the way the beat drops out for the slightly obvious “You bitch ass rappers are getting fucked” line.

And you'll be one hoe, like Marilyn Monroe,
Left on death row because I let the gun go bang,
Blow your motherfucking brains out,
And you need more than detergent to get that motherfucking stain out.
‘Cause I serve more crabs than Red Lobster's,
When I pop shots I leave lots of dead mobsters.
Put down the microphone, whether unknown or famous,
You're out of luck and I don't give a fuck what your name is.
Boy, you better split, cause I'ma house shit,
My dick will be rich if you niggas wants to put your money where your mouth is.

Again, we have another quadruple rhyme scheme that almost qualifies as compound before G Rap drops a quick sequence of similes that rank among his best; he’s probably used that “detergent” line somewhere else, but it sounds so good here that I don’t care. By now, his internal rhyme patterns have grown into a labyrinthine complexity known only to him. It bears emphasis: the last couplet here is one of the most amazing lyrical constructions in the canon of hip hop. In its most basic form, these two lines are merely a series of syllables and sounds, but it’s the combination of each internal element – the delivery, inflection, rhyme scheme, the utter imagination of this diss – that trumps the entire rhyme books of 95% of rappers before or since. Hear it, read it, memorize it, repeat it like a mantra; it is truly the Kool Genius at his finest.

Gassed up-ass nigga, come set it,
‘Cause when I pick up the gun, that be the end of the unleaded.
Now you could be a gold or a platinum artist,
But deep down, you fucking silly clowns know who's the hardest.
Niggas I watered down with the quarter pound,
‘Cause my slaughter sound can be caught around and found to slaughter towns.
For the clowns, got eighty rounds worth of ammo.
Play it again Sam, put on my jams, fuck a piano.
I'm leaving lame niggas brain dead…
Aw, fuck it, ‘nuff said.

By this point in the track, one is almost numbed by the continuous onslaught of G Rap’s verbal dexterity. After exhausting every permutation of the “–ound” assonance, he suddenly breaks out of his lyrical trance and realizes that he established his point a long time ago: G Rap simply cannot be defeated. Congratulations – you’ve made it out alive from a straight 56-bar bloodbath delivered by the incomparable Kool G Rap.

MP3: Kool G Rap & DJ Polo - "'Nuff Said"

A Rap fan’s 10 favorite Indie-Pop songs of the year so far

2007-06-19T12:29:00.000-04:00

Sach again, on the guest post tip. I don’t get much time to write about the other music I listen to at Ohword because well…we specialize in running this rap shit. No boom-bap dinosaur wants to be reading a Cam’ron parody or an essay about why rap sucks and suddenly be confronted with a list of Colin Meloy songs. So obviously I had to use one of these guest posts to get out my quarterly Indie rock venting/fawning. Let’s keep it positive with a list of songs that have owned my downtime since January. You probably already have these, but I’ll even throw up some audio for shits and giggles... some in alternate/live versions.

Of Montreal – Heimdalsgate like a Promethean Curse
I didn’t have to check the spelling on that track title and Itunes says I’ve played this 45 times since January on my I Pod alone. If that’s not proof that I listen to this band (and this song) way too much I dunno what is. For years the band name “Of Montreal” made no sense to me since sunny Georgian psych pop had nothing to do with my home town. No more: Kevin Barnes’ move to the Northern side of our hemisphere has turned his sunny pop melodies into the perfect soundtrack for the local winter. Count me among those patiently waiting for the man’s upcoming concept ADDance album about a Black-shemale.

Amy Winehouse – Valerie/Lily Allen – Oh My God
Mark Ronson’s Version comp is spotty at best, but his two prized chanteuses both deliver the goods. Winehouse is arguably a mainstream soul singer at this point considering she went gold off what was essentially an R&B record, but she does the Zutons proud with her sexually ambiguous cover of Valerie. From the opening adlib where she appologises for having “Too Much Fun” to her grandiosely giddy vocal, this is a good sign that Winehouse can deliver sunshine just as well as she can heartbreak. Allen meanwhile continues to be every middle class white dude’s fantasy on wax. The Kaiser Chiefs’ Oh My God isn’t the most inspired song choice in the world, but she does good with what she’s given all things considered. If anything, hearing her sing is a welcome distraction from her tabloid antics which I think we could all do without. Unless those tabloid antics involve going out with yours truly.

Lucky Soul – Ain’t Never Been Cool
You’d think there’d only be enough room in England for one group of band-led girl-group revivalists but Lucky Soul proved conventional wisdom wrong by becoming the anti-Pipettes on their debut The Great Unwanted. More specifically, they played it completely straight with a collection of utterly earnest love songs for the nerd set. Now you have to be pretty geeky to appreciate this stuff in the first place, so it was a stroke of genius to play up the underdog qualities in the music rather than go for the angry vindictive snark inherent in Allen/Winehouse/The Pipettes’ stuff. With this in mind, I Ain’t Never Been Cool is practically a mission statement saying y’all can go dance to Cassie, we’ll be over here pretending its 1962 via protools.

Art Brut – Nag Nag Nag
If Lucky Soul unearthed the underlying geekiness of the girl-group revival, Eddie Argos sarcastically (?) bigs up the more obvious nerd-qualities of internet-sponsored indie rock. There’s something unbearably funny yet deadly serious about an art-rock group making music about teenage drama explicitely aimed at 20-something hipsters. Arrested Development indeed. Oh it's also pretty cool that the guy can make loud guitars sound cool without having to throw crazy time signatures or other pretentious BS into the mix.

The Noisettes – The Count of Monte Cristo
Truthfully, I could have chosen any of the first 4 songs off the Noisettes’ album for this list since they’re all unfuckwitable examples of garage-folk that should be getting the kind of press that The White Stripes will receive for Icky Thump. The Count of Monte Cristo just happens to be my favorite of the bunch. A wanderers’ blues at heart, the tune highlights singer Shingai Shoniwa’s sultry vocals and tones down their roaring guitar attack in favor of layered acoustics.

The Rosebuds – Night of the Furies
I don’t like the latest Rosebuds album all that much. It seems like a classic example of a band adding pointlessly “modern” production in the hopes of expanding their audience and falling flat doing so. It’s not that the dance-drums are particularly bad, but they seem to be covering up a startling lack of good tunes. The title track is the exception to the rule though, delivering a 6 minute plus dancefloor odyssey of reserved pain. I’m not exactly sure what the lead singer is talking about but I’m pretty sure it’d sound really good over ending credits as Chow Yun Phat drives his benz off into the distance after having slaughtered a few hundred people. Mr. Woo take note.

Pop Levi – Skip Ghetto (Echo Park Version)
I have no idea why Pop Levi is signed to Ninjatune but ever since I wandered onto their website and heard his stuff I’ve been hooked. The Echo Park version of skip ghetto isn’t featured on his solo debut but instead got relegated to his Blue Honey EP and that’s a damn shame. A lazy balad for a drunk Sunday afternoon, it’s by far superior to the dubbed out version on the main album draping the balad in shimmering guitars and finger snaps.

Dunjen – C Visar Vagen
Dunjen is Hip Hop as fuck. Forget the interviews where he bigs up Madlib and talks about his skills on the 1200’s, just listen to the guys music. C Visar Vagen sounds like the kind of stuff RJD2 would sell his left nut to be able to create. A breezy 4/4 folk instrumental perfect for a long car ride or a long bong rip, C Visar Vagen is proof that this world fusion shit CAN work given the right ingredients. Can we get a break heavy Stairway to Heaven next?

The Klaxons – Golden Scans
Are the Klaxons supposed to be this year’s Arctic Monkeys or something? I have the sneaking suspicion that it’s not very cool to like these guys but I don’t really hang around a social circle that would know this stuff. Either way, while their Blade-soundtrack ready techno-rock thing is moderately cool, the straight up guitar pop of Golden Scans is what does it for me. Maybe if the British Press didn’t try to name a genre after their shit…

Bonnaroo Updates

2007-06-17T13:26:00.000-04:00

No time for a real post or anything. I've got to catch Bob Weir & Ratdog at 3:00 and it's looking iffy. Bonnaroo is just as nuts as I expected. Best festival in America. Not like I've been to all that many festivals or anything, but at the very least it beats the hell out of Coachella. I've been sending Bonnaroo updates in to Kevin Bronson's LA Times Buzz Bands blog, so if you're interested, head that way:

Bonnaroo Updates at Buzz Bands Blog