Loxsly - "Virgin Isles"

A continuous loop. Though something is different every time. Like a crank slowly spins a word into place one at a time, they thunk into place and each one, with each one that comes up you keep thinking it's trying to make a sentence, like if you watch long enough, all these words will make sense, like it's all got some reason or design behind it, but it never does. Or rather, I've waited, and I can tell you, in fact I'm telling you, that it's never going to make sense, it's never going to make a thread it's like "great (ka-chunk) many (ka-chunk) people (ka-chunk) believe (ka-chunk) in (ka-chunk) the (ka-chunk) many (ka-chunk) great (ka-chunk) people (ka-chunk) believe (ka-chunk) for (ka-chunk) if (ka-chunk) enough (ka-chunk) of (ka-chunk) the (ka-chunk) population (ka-chunk) gives (ka-chunk) itself (ka-chunk) away (ka-chunk) then (ka-chunk) it's (ka-chunk) --" [Buy]

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Love is All - "So Far Away (Dire Straits Cover)"

I was in line for the bus tonight in Ottawa, and there was a really boring couple in front of me. He had a on a grey sleeveless muscle shirt, with "Pepe Jeans" (I've never had to pronounce that) written in really old-style font, and she had an old white spaghetti-strap tank top on. Brush cut, and bad old faded blond dye job ponytail. And I wouldn't have noticed them at all, except that they had this really touching good-bye, it made me immediately wish I could take back all the bitchy thoughts I had about them. It was all without words, they didn't speak the whole time we were in line, he just started staring at her and his face got all red. He pressed his forehead against hers and she closed her eyes. She let him step forward and give over his ticket, but she just stood at the window, stock still, staring, really damn hard, like the way a victim might stare at their assailant in a courtroom, at him as he got on the bus. And in her too-small flip flops and ankle charms she marched away out the doors and left, and me and Pepe Jeans went to Montreal together. All I could think was, "Baby, I'm not going to stay for Canada Day."

[will apparently be available on emusic] [Site]

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I posted Chet last week, and I got this lovely comment from Camille: "this sounds like Carey Mercer with his feet planted in fresh cream". And although I'm not sure totally on the connection, I got the Chet CD at the Frog Eyes show the week before. Which is a nice segue, retroactively, to talk about the current Frog Eyes tour. I saw them with Shearwater (meh) at Lambi (big meh) and they were, typically, bestial. Despite bad sound (see Lambi) and an extremely douche-y group of fans in the front row, they lit up completely, as in immolated, that room. Carey Mercer does this thing where he steps away from the mic and howls at the ceiling, a cappella, for long stretches of time, and you feel like you're being sung to personally, and it becomes self-conscious, yet completely hair-raising and primal, and then he'll suddenly, unexpectedly fall, kind of topple, headlong into huge guitars and drums which become louder still with this new textured focus. It's quite an experience. There's one show left on the tour. Citizens of Victoria, I know I'm preaching to the choir, but go.

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Women contest: Thanks for all your submissions, all of you. But a quick contest has a quick winner; it's Bethan.

"women are what you get when you water girls and feed them with a good mixed mulch of cosmopolitan magazine and trouser suits."

second place goes to Harrison, and honorable mentions to Nina, Stephen, Kate. But there's only a prize for first place, sorry team. and remember, any time you want to leave sentences as beautiful as these in the comments, you don't need a contest to do so! smile