This is a musicblog. Every weekday we post a couple of mp3s and write about them. Songs are only kept online for a short time. This is a page from our archives and thus the mp3s linked to may not longer be available. Visit our front page for new songs and words.

July 30, 2004

with you

I've been attending bits of the Ottawa Chamber Music Festival and it's been lovely. Hot, but lovely. If you live here, go.

Shocking Blue - "Hot Sand". This song stands at the edge of a roof, doing acrobatics, risking death. The distorted guitar bends and twists, the drums smack, Mariska Veres throws her hair back with a sensuous toss. Best of all is Robbie Van Leeuwen's sitar - which he played regularly on Shocking Blue releases. This was the b-side with 1969's "Venus," the band's big US smash. The track is scorching, almost burnt, and it sizzles under direct sunlight. "Hot sand / I'm walking in the hot sand / making love on the hot sand." Forceful, sexy, but with those little details - the backing oohs, the streak of sitar, - which make it much more than an intimidating flirt. [buy]

Mitch and Mickey - "When You're Next To Me". Sometimes the best kind of love song is the goofy kind, cheery head-swaying sing-alongs. And it's easy to get enthusiastic when the performers are fictional. Mitch and Mickey are bad poets, sure, but they sing with such overwhelming eagerness, such contagious pleasure. Yes, the rhymes are trite, but bo oh boy are they in love! Acoustic guitar bounce, twining voices, and the biggrinning singsong of a bulging heart: "When I'm lying next to you / I feel moonbeams burn / I see rainbows turn / into gold." [buy]

And, to follow up the William Shatner/"Common People" track, here's another bit of total weirdness - courtesy of FP/benny. "The Chipmunk Song [slowed down]". Yes, hear Simon, Theodore and Alvin at their true speed, sounding respectively like an accountant, a hot-dog vendor, and a lunatic. Put it on repeat and you'll drift gradually into madness - it's like an acid flashback to fetal languor, the surreal sounds that filtered through the uterine wall.


I'm off to a cottage for the (Canadian, non-quebec) long-weekend, so I'll see you all again on Tuesday.

ps: funeral is the album of the year so far. will say more later.

Posted by Sean at 12:54 AM | Comments (23)

July 29, 2004

like the weather

Nina Simone - "Little Girl Blue". Yesterday people were talking about her version of "Who Knows Where the Time Goes," so I felt I ought to pull out my own favourite Nina Simone recording. It was written by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Heart, and it's one of the very saddest things I love. "Good King Wenceslas" tapped out on piano, a romantic twilit jingle that bursts into triumphant noise at the end. Despite this gaiety, however, Nina's slow song exists in a different world; its lachrymose lyrics are the wrenching opposite of the piano-player's ball. In the song's last half, the two meet half-way. She composes herself, lets him play his cabaret blues, and out of her flows a long, trembling melisma, a poised final statement, the sound of a woman who knows she must smile. [buy]

Little Wings - "Random Lee". Little Wings continues to rival Phil Elvrum as the most prolific act on K. Magic Wand is his most collected record yet, with full-band numbers that are almost raucous. Closer to Royal City's Alone at the Microphone, certainly, than Julie Doiron's Desormais. And yet if you ask me, it's the soft-and-sentimental he ought to stick to - light green leaves, worlds of wonder, breezy surf-folk. "Random Lee" is my favourite track on the album, and it reflects my predilections. Kyle duets with Genevieve Elvrum (aka Woelv), just whispering drums, meandering guitar, and the drift of their voices. They fall in and out of harmony, two animals crossing in a wood. (But of course they're singing about driving, "the glamour that is golden in your smile," a radio slowplaying, the windows are down and the light's almost tangible as it hangs in the air.) [buy]


Pinback's Blameless in Abaddon is one heckuva disappointment. Gone are the ruby melodies, replaced with trimmer, emo'er rock songs. Count me out.

Life of a Spuckle is a nascent musicblog with links to small and noteworthy legal downloads. Gordon's just getting started, but I think he dreams of big things.

Posted by Sean at 3:25 AM | Comments (6)

July 28, 2004

bell x1 introduces itself to fairport convention

Fairport Convention - "Who Knows Where the Time Goes". Yesterday was Estelle, with a UK Top Ten from 2004. Today, Fairport Convention with their hit from 1969. Although intimately familiar to anyone who lived through the time (or so I assume), songs like this get buried in subsequent decades, especially when one is all the way across the Atlantic. But "Who Knows Where the Time Goes" was Fairport Convention's most successful track, a folkpop ballad that stands amid tumbling cherry-blossoms. Sandy Denny's voice is the whinsome flip-side of Van Morrison on Astral Weeks, sad but steadfast. Martin Lamble is indispensable on drums, touching the pavement with spots of silver puddle, sending down a sudden bird. And Richard Thompson - well, his guitar aches and thinks and hopes and smiles and then withdraws again. The song is a perfect articulation of its own message, that sad/glad push/pull of staying/leaving. It shimmers and then locks into a clear, steady image: a gate. [buy]

Bell X1 - "Next To You". Liz continues to send me the very best of the still-shining Irish folkrock movement (thanks, Liz!), and the artists continue to impress me with their understated earnesty, their ear for an interesting sound. While John Mayer would sing every note of this track, milking it over plain electric guitar, Bell X 1 makes it a lazy rolling tune, drums nudging aside bushes, synths chiming and then ring-a-roseying with horns. There are demure handclaps, flashfade cymbals, the deep (faux casual) longing for a slipslide back: "I'm not over you / can I get back under?" So many loose truths, so much glorious sound - and all in this compact little trifle, three minutes and fifty-five seconds of song. (Like Snow Patrol but better.) "Alphabet Soup" is also really really good. If people are curious to hear their more rocking side, I'll share it. [buy]


My iPod Mini came in the mail today. Hoo-ha is it a nice little somethin'. Anyone have tips for supplementary software/applescripts/etc worth downloading? (I'm on OS X.)

Posted by Sean at 4:32 AM | Comments (0)

July 27, 2004

the day is done

Things might be a little foggy tonight; it's 4:30 am. On the other hand - today I offer some incredibly good music.

Nina Nastasia - "The Long Walk". Finally got my hands on Nina Nastasia's debut album, just rereleased on Touch and Go. It is really, truly great - lighter on its feet than The Blackened Air or Run to Ruin. There's more glint in its eye; it's seen fewer skeletons. "The Long Walk" is a song I want to crawl inside. "Take it slow / it's only me." She sings like that closest of old friends, the comfort that sits at your feet and loves. It's grandiose and humble. Jim White (Dirty Three) drops mallets onto toms and out of the chimney flows a blue plume of electric guitar. A song to keep you breathing, a chorus that calls for the lighting of candles, of hearths, of bonfires. Let's light everything bright and relish the sights. Yet another reason that Nina Nastasia is one of my most favourite contemporary acts. [buy]

Estelle - "1980". English garage chartpop, overwhelming and uplifting. It's an explicit nostalgia trip, Estelle leading us back through her life, strings soaring and soaring with four-story ambitions. Like The Streets with a bit of Beyonce, she's totally charming, self-deprecating, utterly without pretention. She plays Connect 4, her "weird neighbours set their own house on fire." She learns to cook, "wishing we were Cosby kids," ever striding forward, voices blooming in the back. Forget Kanye West - this is the year's biggest, boldest, catchiest inspirational, a marvellous song that shines, flashes, throws sparks. [buy]


download mgm endings, the remix album of John Vanderslice's Cellar Door (via catbirdseat)

You must check out Jay's mash-up (from May) of Kanye West ("Encore"), Public Enemy ("Bring the Noise") and John Coltrane ("Ascension"). Totally brilliant.

Grab Peter Sellers' cracked, brilliant version of "She Loves You" over at spoilt victorian child.

whoa. (via sillytech)

Posted by Sean at 4:43 AM | Comments (3)

July 26, 2004

in search of kid serious

Well, if it isn't already Monday. I passed a fine weekend with my friends Anne and J, up from Virginia/Montreal and NYC. We oohed at totem poles, watched a little english boy play catch, ate beaver-tails and poutine. You know, Canadian stuff.

Graeme Downes - "Hammers and Anvils". A song to fill sails, to blow ships across straits. Downes sings like Billy Bragg or Greg Macpherson; like someone who gives not a shit for discretion or noise pollution laws, like someone who simply wants to sing their fucking heart out. An electric guitar rumbles and rings, Downes opens his mouth wide. As frontman for NZ's The Verlaines, he learned to demand attention. And now he's stamping his foot on a bare black stage, his voice a blare: "I didn't do it, the moon did / but just for a minute or so / my head started raging / she was laughing with slaughter-house eyes." Does anyone hear his confession? Or is his only audience the stars, with their unwavering silver stare. (From Downes' 2001 solo debut. Clare = awesome.) [buy]

Kid Serious - "Armageddon Girls". Annette sent me this drowsy, mysterious song, but neither of us can ascertain where it really comes from. Google can't tell us anything about artist or track, at least as far as I can tell. It's possible the song is mislabelled - if anyone has insights, please do pass them on.

The tune's nebulous origins make it all the more appealing. A lonely, phased guitar repeats over and over, 80s-echoing drums like the nighttime flyby of telephone poles. The singer has a cigarette rasp, a voice of warning. It's like a movie's nighttime drive, gas-stations crumbling to dust. When the backup singers begin their chant, it's a memory quickly dismissed. "She got road-signs in her eyes / waiting for the lights to change." It's a song to get lost in - the compulsion of the glimmering guitar, of the headlong drift.

Posted by Sean at 12:10 AM | Comments (18)

July 23, 2004


As we dive into the weekend, we've got bedroom pop.

Alden Ginger - "Refinance Your Mortgage". Lofi fun from Alden Ginger, one half of The Unicorns. It's like a kid playing in his basement, drums rattling while the organ swings. Imagine a Teddy-Bear Picnic where one of the bears is wearing a vintage T and Buddy Holly glasses. This is his band. And while it's messy and hissy, the whimsy in it is what makes the Unicorns so appealing - the play amidst musical hooks and fumbles. Dan ripped this mp3 from the stream that used to exist on a New Music Canada page [google cache]. Alden cites his influences as "Baudelaire, David Bowie, Caprice, the wurlitzer, [and] The Beatles".

Both of these songs can be grabbed from The Robot Ate Me homepage, but that's a coincidence:

The Robot Ate Me - "The Genocide Ball". On Vacation is a two CD set. The first half is the weaker record, strange scratchy jazz recordings and Ryland Bouchard making awkward comments against Hitler, Jesus, and the world's evil greedy governments. That said, "The Genocide Ball" is unoppressive wonderful, like Ben Gibbard singing along with Kid Koala. It's a breezy wheeling tune - a clarinet leading the way, Bouchard wielding a cane. Better still, the political barbs are subservient to the melody, sideshows for the main, toe-tapping attraction. [buy]

The Robot Ate Me - "On Vacation". The title track somersaults away from jazzbacked ditties and towards crumpled indiepop fun. CD 2 is full of peculiar, good-natured tunes - like The Unicorns without the sex, The Microphones with a marching band. A suntanned melodica wheezes between stamps of drum and cymbal, Bouchard singing out a hopeful yellow vacation day. "I can buy almost anything that I'll ever need!" It's a song for the first or last day of school, for long strides out of a building and into the grass, dandelions puffing into bloom. [buy]

Keith posted an absolutely amazing track from the upcoming William Shatner record. It's "the Shat" accompanied by Joe Jackson (and produced by Ben Folds), covering Pulp's "Common People." Shatner's speaking it all so honestly, with such a Cocker glint. The instrumental build is a cleaner, simpler version of the Pulp original, the tune reimagined for a 21st Century marketplace, M83 and Sum41. (I've put a low-fidelity mp3 rip of Keith's .mov here.)

See you Monday!

Posted by Sean at 2:27 AM | Comments (7)

July 22, 2004

you'll never know unless you go

Music for Robots deals with a "hump day" by showcasing the dancey stuff (albeit with classic Belle & Sebastian); me, I turn to comfort music. Warm, fuzzy, close in your ear.

The Hotel Alexis - "OK". Brian very, very kindly introduced me to this record, The Shining Example is Lying On the Floor. It's a really beautiful piece of work, hazy afterflow and pedal steel sighs. Sidney Alexis is a member of Torrez, but where that band cherishes shadow, this record is about the candlelight that reveals faces. "The Season For Working" has got a hazy, almost drunken stumble - twang and a sing-song that reminds me of Yo La Tengo. "It's Obvious Now" nods to Neil Young, suns rising and falling behind the hills. But "OK" is my favourite - the chant of organ and drifting noise, the slow introduction of guitar. Alexis knows that his voice isn't anything special, but he uses as if it could be, as if he can say what he's saying better than anyone else. "Okay," he sings, loosely. "Ok." Then the dirge opens up even further, purples and pinks bleeding into the watercolour, the memory of a trumpet. Smoke, almost invisible on an empty street. [buy]

Iron and Wine - "He Lays in the Reins [live]". Recently, I've cooled a lot too Iron & Wine. The new record was ultimately a big disappointment: too clean, too rich. More than anything, though, it's the similarity of Sam Beam's songs that bothers me. A lot of his tracks are banal - rural images and yup his soft voice, - but banality is forgivable if it's one-of-a-kind. As it becomes clear, however, that Beam can crank these sort of songs out, it's harder to give him the benefit of the doubt. And while I still hold "Upward Over the Mountain" close to my heart, much of the rest has withered under the glare of longterm listening.

But Eric sent me this live recording of an unreleased tune, a song called "He Lays in the Reins." And even though it's that familiar old sound, this is one of those performances that justifies Beam's existence. There's something greater in his voice's ache, in the conversation of guitar and lap steel. It's like watching Chaplin walk, the weary shuffle that hides a dance, an individual spirit. The song's not just pretty, or sad - it's calling out to something, reaching, straining. The lyrics keep asking - "one more," "one more," - and while there's no exclamation mark I imagine the desperation behind that prayer, the desperation of someone who's tired of this world's absurdity, of empty pretty things.

(oh, and eric tells me that "the only version [of this song] that most people can locate is REALLY bad. And I mean, almost bad enough that you can't hear the vocals." so even if you know the tune it might be worth grabbing in case you don't know this recording.)


Mae-Shi will be releasing their first record on Kill Rock Stars/5rc, later this month. In the meantime, listen to their Supper 2004 Mix CD (95meg zipped mp3s). It's a giddy, electic, fantastic mashup, like Strictly Kev's 20th Century bootleg, but an even more furious mix of Magnetic Fields-to-Jay-Z-to-AC/DC. Mesmerizing - and a little overwhelming.

Posted by Sean at 3:04 AM | Comments (5)

July 21, 2004

one more; that was close

Mt Eerie - "Wooly Mammoth's Absence". The opening track from Phil Elvrum's new (very limited) EP, Seven New Songs.

Phil came through Ottawa earlier this summer. He played in a nursery in the basement of a community centre. We sat on wrestling mats. And holding an electric guitar he sang simply, beautifully. The music flowed out of him like water from a cup. He made it look so easy. He sang songs about whale-hunting and being "up his mother's ass". He sang small things and wise things. He wasn't neither melancholy nor glad - he simply sounded like he was trying hard to be true.

My favourite Microphones record is Mt. Eerie, an album that opened before me like a cloud suddenly shaking out rain. But while that's perhaps Elvrum's most indulgent LP*, it doesn't carry his most indulgent songs. (Look to the heavy-handed production that peppers The Glow, Pt. 2.) But neither of these things mark the clean, shining beauty of "Wooly Mammoth's Absence." Instead, the production is almost invisible; you don't think of the time that's been invested in every sound, in every strum. It's like that piece of soft grey glass on the beach, the one you hold in your hand without a thought for the things that shaped it.

Phil sings, of course. There are other blending voices and mirrorpooling guitars. Drums hide deep in the song's chest, bursting out only at its close. As placid as the sound is, however, the track's spirit is live, wakeful. It's got that electric current that runs through all of Elvrum's best work - that pure, attentive kindness. Under the pretty, glimmering song is an unwavering faith in the universe's beneficence. [sold out]

Harry Nilsson - "Save the Last Dance For Me (Demo)". This mostly-unplugged version of "Save the Last Dance For Me" is taken from the deluxe release of Pussy Cats, Nilsson's maligned bender-weekend album with John Lennon. And yet it's wonderful. As the organ pulses, Nilsson sings slowly, confessingly, like a man who is baring his heart. There are places where his voice almost rasps, but it's a beautiful strain - a moment of tension, rough croon against golden Rhodes. The absence of drums means that the song never descends into prom schmaltz - it's always just a little dead, a little sad. It's this reluctance, this lethargy that Nilsson needs to push against; he insists, he calls, he begs. He needs to sing this as truly as he can, or else that's it, c'est tout, the fog will roll in and she'll be gone forever. A dreamer's blues. (Thanks, Mike.) [buy]

* When indulgence works, of course, it's single-minded genius.


Never Came Home continues to do great things, with an especially fantastic track by Yashudi Ide.

As you'll all doubtless have seen, is a nifty mp3blog aggregator. I find it's useful for glancing at after I've visited my regular mp3blog stops, to check for interesting things by people who aren't (yet) on my list, but should be.

Jeff is back with looking askance from '93, a new mp3blog that's getting started with a fine track by No Name No Fame, and, um, KLF.

Posted by Sean at 12:47 AM | Comments (5)

July 20, 2004

rear-view mirror

Born Heller - "I Want To". Back in the spring, my friend Monica met half of Born Heller - Jason Ajemian - at a show with Julie Doiron in Montreal. She sent me Born Heller's "I Am A Guest In Here," which I quite liked, but I wasn't really compelled to seek them out. This past week, however, the record found its way into my hands, and my gosh - it's really something special. Unlike the Devendra Banharts and Espers with which it is compared, Ajemian and Josephine Foster have created something that owes more to Mark Hollis (Talk Talk) and 20th century classical composers than it does to Neutral Milk Hotel. The instrumentation is skeletal, a kind of irregular recitative - on "I Want To" we hear harp, eerie oboe, the occasional thump of a drum. Foster's voice is beautiful, high as a bird's nest. In the gaps of instrumental sound it is apt to rustle free, duck, and then soar. Listening - especially when you're bad with lyrics, as I am, - it's hard to figure out whether the songs are sad or quietly hopeful. Is this an ache forward or an ache back? All I know is that when those oboes sigh, I want them all around me, buoying me somewhere new and green. [buy]

Old 97's - "Won't Be Home". Cody sent me this song, from the band's forthcoming Drag It Up. They've been making music for more than ten years, but in the opening lines of this rollicking tune, Rhett Miller sounds as young as Bright Eyes; Jeff Tweedy without the Ginsberg. "Won't Be Home" has a fantastic combination of urgency and regret, Miller all brokenhearted while the drums tap-ta-tap. Lesser bands would be tempted to slow it all down, but here they just push it faster, background oohs and jingle bells. It's an unstoppable forward motion, a car that's come back to life and cannot - will not - stop. As Cody wrote to me, it is country music for "that next moment after ... [when] you have to kind of steel yourself, like it or not ... [when] you try to find something good on the radio and fix your eyes on the road." It's a feeling that you have to lean into, a sound that demands you give it a chance. It yearns and hopes and drives drives drives... Fantastic. [buy]


David kindly passed on some code from ned, which I've now implemented. It should act as a roadblock for people who have been using wget to strip mp3s from the page. If people want to listen to the songs I post here, I'd really rather they stopped by and glanced at the writing. Please let me know if the change has caused problems with anyone's normal use.

Caley cited The Mountain Goats' "Dance Music" as one of the finest songs of the year so far, and thanks to Teaching The Indie Kids To Dance Again, I managed to nab it (and for a limited time, you can too!). While there's no studio version to be found, it truly is an awesome track - wistful and jubilant, and (next to "International Small Arms Trader Blues," "The Best Ever Death Metal Band In Denton," and "Family Happiness") certainly one of the Mountain Goats' best. Eppy's written a wonderful piece about it over at clap clap, and as usual, it's worth far more of your time than anything I could write.

The TypoGenerator is very cool. [via mefi]

Posted by Sean at 12:37 AM | Comments (0)

July 19, 2004

alizée and addle march, together at last

Augie March - "Addle Brains". This track comes to us via one of Said the Gramophone's fine, intrepid Australian correspondents, Tim. Augie March are a fivepiece from Melbourne, and this is a song which is careful and glowing - Glenn Richards sings like a man who knows what he means, who means what he sings. A piano leans back and stretches, a bass guitar counts the clouds, and David Williams' drums rattle from inside cabinets, on top of kitchen tables. While Richards lulls us, we're pulled slowly into the tragedy - it's everyday narcolepsy, the city's apathetic lullaby.

Addle Brains mixes his powders with his fateful blues,
and the wide-eyed bubs of the Parliament couldn't give a hoot, or even two.
All it takes, it takes, is a kind look and a word, a word,
Some pretty eyes and skin. From your fine family you were given to win,
and spill it over into the basin of common sin,
just a drop, a drop of the stuff that makes us kin.
The lyrics fit into each-other like snug lids on biscuit tins, Badly Drawn Boy after reading The Dubliners (or Illywhacker!). Strange Bird was released in Oz in 2002, but makes its ways to American shores on September 14 - on SpinART.

Alizée - "Moi Lolita". And for those of you who prefer a catchy tune to soggy sincerity, kyree55 sent on this dazzling bit of dancepop, a European hit in 2002 that was recorded by a 15-year-old Alizée. It's a slick bolt of french pop vocals, lush stretches of Ace of Base synths and Jamelia strings, a chorus that's neat as a mint stick of gum (the piano's coming! it's coming! ok phew). As soon as I heard the bassline, I recognized it from another song - but couldn't identify the original. For a couple of days I was going completely crazy, downloading every late-90s pop single I could think of, desperately seeking that sounds-like call-back. And then I caved, collapsed, and literally asked Metafilter for help. In 121 minutes, the answer was mine: White Town's (excellent) "Your Woman" (of course!). And while they're not identical, the resemblance is enough that I've hopefully saved you all some trouble.

When I hear this song I want to do strange newfangled disco in a portuguese warehouse, with rainbow flashing lights and rainbow bubbles and - why not? - ten-foot-high rainbow wedding cakes. [buy]

Posted by Sean at 12:06 AM | Comments (7)

July 16, 2004

it's back

After two weeks gone, I Love Music has returned. rejoiceth!

Posted by Sean at 2:32 PM | Comments (0)


King Creosote - "Lavender Moon". Badger Minor was the first one to share this song. I hate to do repeats, but tonight is a night when this song is needed. A squeezebox gives out low sighs, strange twittering in the rear. All around you, voices - tender, sad, lit by memory. At times, the song fills to something approaching bliss, but then we inhale - "But now you've left and gone." And there's nothing there; shapes in the air, fragments and figments, dream. And the song ends - just. like. that. [buy]

The Arcade Fire - "Accidents". I apologize to Win for pulling this old, worn song from the wardrobe. And I apologize to those of you who are tired of me writing about the Arcade Fire. But I really, really needed this song tonight, and I feel like there are probably others who need it too. It was recorded in the summer of 2000. And while the band's new material is phenomenal, there are a handful of ancient old antique songs that are overwhelming, magnificent, important. "Accidents" is one. "Milk & Honey" is another (and no recordings of it seem to exist). Jordan would cite "In the Attic." Dan would say "Alligator Mine." But - tonight, it's "Accidents" I needed. And here it is.

This is the band stripped to guitar and (later) drums, a lullabye that stumbles into a minor earthquake and then back. Win Butler sings like a man cupping images in his hands. It's the most mundane little apocalypse: movie-theatre swoon; ambulance swerve; chandelier crash. "I wait for the punch-line / but it never comes." People are tumbling to the ground, hearts flying out of their chests - bouncing, bruising, and maybe (we'll hope) still beating. Two people causing "accidents," their love a disaster, dreadful and miraculous and impossible to understand.


Ecclectric City is a new mp3blog by Suhrid, the fool-prince of Montreal's indie scene. Currently showcasing US Maple, An Albatross, Hair Police, and his former band, Da (late great) Bloody Gashes. He's got photos, lunatic enthusiasm, and a frenetic style that reminds me a bit of john.

As anticipated, Wolf Parade have signed to SubPop.

Have a very merry weekend.

Posted by Sean at 2:23 AM | Comments (3)

July 15, 2004

i am so glad that you're here

Everything Is Fine - "1000 Seconds". Everything Is Fine looks like a pretty hilarious fellow. But that doesn't matter because his music is beautiful. Alan passed me "1000 Seconds," and there are many more mp3s here. The song is low bass notes and the resonant touch of hands to electric strings. That, and Marc Manning's voice - high, certain, forlorn. It is very, very sad, this song. Manning carries us, but what truly lifts "1000 Songs" above the rabble of weepy singer-songwriters is the squall of feedback that slowly grows, a fierce grey ache that rises and overwhelms - a mouth that opens wider and wider, sound without words. The yawning maw of death, or perhaps the terrifying struggle of truly living. [buy]

Warsawpack - "Year of the Car Crash". Warsawpack, it seems, are defunct. Which is a pity. Over the course of two very similar records, they played snarling, musical and cohesive funk rock - gloomy guitars, sharp horns, the slick knife of DJ Aaron Sakala. Recalling a wordier Zach De La Rocha, Lee Raback raps with deftness and fury: he rages singlemindedly against big business, fat cats, and Republican presidents. Although the records can sometimes be a little much, "Year of the Car Crash" is short and cutting, a blazing rant against SUVs and gasoline, whispery scratching amidst guitar atmospherics. [buy]


As you can see, I've updated my blog-roll. While places like The Tofu Hut have a terrific, encyclopedic list of mp3blogs, the links on this page are to the sites that I most eagerly recommend - the sites that I visit daily. Anything that's on the right is totally fantastic - and I'm sure that there are many others worthy of attention that either I haven't yet discovered, or that haven't yet secured my interest. If I'm overlooking something wonderful, please do let me know.


I was just reading about the Conet Project at Stereogum - strange garbled radio broadcasts, spy messages or the illuminati or something else. As Aquarius Records says,

"The Conet Project is possibly the most incredible, and weirdest, item of sound art/documentation that we've EVER [sold]... Mesmerizing, fascinating, unique, massive, scary, but sometimes even soothing."
I made a mental note to try to track them down and sample. Lo and behold, in a show of synchronicity, t3poh discovers this treat: download all 4 discs from Irdial, the album's label.

A wonderful thing: Maciej's description of The Velvet Underground. (You may have to scroll down to find it.)

Listen to Devendra Banhart's psychfolk comp, Golden Apples of the Sun (featuring Joanna Newsom, Little Wings, and more), here. [via mefi]

If you're on a mac, Camino 0.8 is out, and it's great.

Posted by Sean at 3:02 AM | Comments (8)

July 14, 2004

checking it twice

Franz Ferdinand - "Take Me Out (Daft Punk Mix)". Thanks to stx, I managed to get my hands on this terrific remix off a new French 7". The song is surprisingly untouched, but what Daft Punk have done is to transform Franz Ferdinand into the band I wish they were. As usual, Pitchfork gets it totally wrong:

"The efforts of Daft Punk, unfortunately, add very little to a perfectly realized song, and prove deeply disappointing. Much like slapping bright-orange lipstick and green eyeshadow on a naturally beautiful girl, their electro-squelch additions simply seem detrimental to the original package."
See, the problem with Franz Ferdinand, for me, is that its dun face needs some make-up. The album hops and struts, but it feels like rock'n'roll in a big ole' gymnasium - the sounds dissipating in the air. It's a lotta noise that's pretty easy to ignore, one man on the piazza, flailing in a leather jacket.

It's true that Daft Punk haven't done much here, but what they have done is brilliant. Instead of reimagining the song, they've simply fixed it: they've squeezed the walls, knocked the light-bulbs out. The song's got that same dandy spring, but coming in round the shoulders is a heavy analog synth, a dark pressure in the peripheral vision. Suddenly there's some real danger in the white flashes, the snaps of guitar. It's not just boys getting hip and bothered - there are wolves in dem walls. The stakes are raised; Alex Kapranos sings in those opening lines that he's "just a cross-hair ... just a shot, then we can die," and those kind of lyrics finally kinda make sense. This is the thrill of a chase, of a fight, of a long and strobing night.

Chad Van Gaalen - "Clinicly Dead". A favourite of both Monica and Annette, they saved me the trouble of having to figure out which song to share from Infiniheart. "Clinicly Dead" is smashing bedroom rock that comes at you from all directions; Flaming Lipsy lyrics and noisy Modest Mouse pop. Reminds me most of all of Grandaddy, albeit without any of the noodly synths. It's too bad VanGaalen's vocals are buried so deep in the mix: I'd love to hear them toe-to-toe with the chorus' blooming buzz. The rest of the album is charmingly eclectic, heart-on-sleeve balladry knocking up against electroacoustic instrumentals. [buy]


I like lists. Totally silly, but there's some grim satisfaction to nailing things down at a particular moment. Inspired by Aaron, then, here are some ho-hum lists for 14/07/04. the year's been pretty mediocre for albums, so far, but my cup runneth over with singles. and, uh, i indulged.

fave 5 albums of 2004 so far
jolie holland - escondida
joanna newsom - milk-eyed mender
kanye west - college dropout
les mouches - you're worth more to me than 1000 christians
william basinski - disintegration loops 1

fave 30 songs of 2004 so far (one song per artist)

1. modest mouse - "float on"
2. arcade fire - "tunnels"
3. wilco - "at least that's what you said"
4. britney spears - "toxic"
5. joanna newsom - "bridges and balloons"

6. kanye west - "family business"
7. one-t and cool-t - "magic key"
8. royal city - "jerusalem"
9. sufjan stevens - "Seven swans"
10. camera obscura - "keep it clean"

11. the streets - "dry your eyes"
12. fiery furnaces - "straight street"
13. divine comedy - "our mutual friend"
14. wheat - "i met a girl"
15. rza - "grits"

16. avril lavigne - "my happy ending"
17. jolie holland - "do you"
18. usher ft. lil jon & ludacris - "yeah"
19. rachel's - "last things last"
20. the killers - "indie rock and roll"

21. new year - "disease"
22. mase - "welcome back"
23. counting crows - "accidentally in love"
24. feist - "mushaboom"
25. mouse on mars - "wipe that sound"

26. the bees - "chicken payback"
27. mf doom - "doper skiller"
28. mocky - "mickey mouse muthafuckers"
29. eamon - "fuck it"
30. hidden cameras - "builds the bone"

Posted by Sean at 12:23 AM | Comments (25)

July 13, 2004

they poured across the border

Sixteen Horsepower - "The Partisan". A google search for sixteen horsepower informs me that it equals 11,931.1979 watts. Which is interesting, albeit not pertinent. This is a soft-but-shrieking version of the Leonard Cohen classic, sent to me by Matthew. Sixteen Horsepower are at their best when David Eugene Edwards is bellowing from a flaming field, so it's not till the song's smouldering bridge that this track really shines. Before that it's too shrill somehow, too bare. We need the flutter of acoustic guitar, the flutter of french, with the crashes and electric howls set far in the distance. While Leonard's lull is gone, Sixteen Horsepower make this song much more clearly about war - about raw death. The snarls of guitar are like bomb tremors, the hard consonants like artillery fire. All eyes are black. And as soft as the song is, it's trying very hard to shake you, to unsettle the patted earth over graves. Frightening, intense, Chiron's folk music. (From the French release of Low Estate.) [buy]

Candypants - "I Want a Pony". As promised, a song for any newcomers who have joined us from Metafilter. It's sassy sugarpop transposed from the early 60s into the late 90s. Lisa Jenio's sour voice is at once a plaint and a challenge - demanding and flirtatious. Drums and synths hammer things into a sparkly confetti box-fight, while Jenio stamps her foot in time. "I want a pony / I want a pony / I want a pony / now." It's when your cute girlfriend turns out to be a disaster, and an equestrian. Courtesy of Aurélien. (Also, Candypants' website is on Geocities, which is cool.) [buy]

Posted by Sean at 3:24 AM | Comments (10)

July 12, 2004

for a while

A happy Monday to all. Ju-ly ju-ly.

SJD - "Superman, You're Crying". SJD is Sean James Donnelly, a laptop songwriter from Auckland. Yeah, I know, 'laptop songwriter' is an idea that's about eleven months stale. Hold on, though, and give this song a try. Give it a feel. Because it's wonderful - it's got a melody that takes you by the tuxedo lapels, that sings to you eye-to-eye. It has rippling strings and teeming electronics, a black matte bass-line and, like an unexpected homecoming, the lazy murmur of a harmonica. Donnelly's got Elbow's backup vocals and David Bowie's falsetto; he's got Sea Change's melancholy and his own earthbrown pulse. Better yet, it's the best Superman song we've heard in years: on snowy nights at the Fortress of Solitude, Kal El won't be turning on Coldplay. (Thanks so much, Adele.) [buy]

Hui Ohana - "Ulupalakua". Mike passes on this summer sweet track, taken from Hui Ohana's 1972 debut. It's so wonderfully gentle, harmonies like the nestling of clouds. They perform without any formal musical training, just the natural affinity of their voices, the play of fingers on slack-key guitar. Hui Ohana - Dennis Pavao and twin brothers, Led and Ned Kaapana, - was at the forefront of the 70s Hawaiian folk renaissance. As with Iz, their music is soft without being insipid; there's a hope, an open-heartedness to it. Maybe even a little sadness, there in the end of the phrases. [buy]


Download an entire Tilly and the Wall record at their website. Yes, they have a tapdancer instead of drums.


I'm always the last one to a party. I've long held Neil Young in esteem, but I can't say that I've much enjoyed his music. "Heart of Gold" is a scourge upon the earth, and the rawk side of his persona is not really my cup of tea. But thanks to the wise recommendations of my friend Jordan, I've been dipping a toe into Neil's back catalog. (Bob Dylan is next.) What do I discover but the bluegrey pleasure of Comes A Time: it's a magnificent little album, surprisingly reminiscent of Leonard Cohen's Songs From A Room and bits of recent Wilco. While I'm sure that you're all way ahead of me on this one, if you were an ignorant fool like me, well - i've done what i can. :)


Gramophone business:

Starting at the end of September, Said the Gramophone will be on hiatus as I go travelling in Europe. I'll be backpacking and hostelling with my good friend Julian, visiting slightly familiar haunts and the colourful unknown. We really hope to get a feel for the places we visit, rather than being limited to museums and tourist traps. We're both E.U. citizens; when the train-hopping's done, we'll be finding somewhere we like and settling in.

If anyone out there lives in one of the following cities and would be willing to say hello, I would be absolutely delighted to hear from you. We want to meet people and listen to music, to find good conversation and magical places. We're both 22 and although he's got a distorted English accent, I assure you that we both possess a Canadian good humour.

Anyway, if you think you can help us out or meet for a pint, drop me a note. Human beings know the best haunts, I'm sure.

Our September-December itinerary includes (but is not necessary limited to): Brighton, London, Oxford, Cambridge, Glasgow, Dublin, Galway, Cork, Tampere, Helsinki, Tallinn, Riga, Prague, Bratislava, Budapest, Zagreb, Sarajevo, and Ljubjlana. After that, we'll hang around Italy or sweep up through Spain/Portugal/France; whatever our bank-accounts permit. And then live somewhere.

As always, thanks for reading. Tomorrow - a special tune for any MeFites who decide to stick around.

Posted by Sean at 12:27 AM | Comments (21)

July 9, 2004

any old day

The Monks - "We Do Wie Du". Jason passed on this track of sloshed and lurching surf-rock, from 1966's Black Monk Time. After being discharged from the army, five bored G.I.'s took to wearing cloaks and monks' pates, playing rock music for 6 hours at a time in Hamburg clubs. The product is a lumbering and beat-heavy song, thumping drums and a frankensteinian organ line. "We do / it all / all the day." Doo-bee-doo-bee-dooing backup singers, a precursor to Pelle Almqvist on main vox. Like real-life Leningrad Cowboys, or simply guys in black clerical duds, trying to find some bluesy American soul among the drunken german hipsters. Loose, wet, disoriented, and very glad. [buy]

Tranquility Bass/Low - "Over the Ocean (Low Owl Remix)". A truly remarkable remix of Low's "Over the Ocean," off of owL, an album of such things. What makes the Tranquility Bass track so noteworthy is that it's such a enjoyable, full-fledged song - not just a few bars of mormons-with-dancebeat, repeated ad nauseum. At first it recalls Four Tet, knocks and pats, clicks and brief synth flowers. The vocals - Mimi Parker and Alan Sparhawk - lap and overlap in more interesting ways than anything that Low's done on its own. "Over the ocean," they sing. We hear water. Then - horns! Melodic, coordinated, spirited horns, a mellow fanfare for the stutterflow reappearance of vocals. Tranquility Bass find room for dynamics and progress, new sounds that flutter out of familiar patterns. It's exciting, enjoyable, and totally surprising - who knew Low could be so much fun, so reassuringly human? Who knew that a laptop guy on an island off Washington state could better the work of slowcore royalty -- and by stripping away the slowcore! Who knew- Aw, forget it it; let's dance! (Tuwa again - thanks!) [buy]


Mewsic's a new mp3blog with a dose of fine&strident politics, as well. Check: Selfish Cunt and Bran Van 3000.

Pop (all love) has posted a brilliant track by "A Girl Called Eddy," aka Erin Moran. It's called "Golden" and it's like Jesse Sykes + Jem, smoky country songwriting and then a stormfront rise of guitars. Bowled me over on first listen - utterly unexpected, altogether great. (While you're there, grab the second leaked song off the held-back Fiona Apple album, "Better Version of Me." You will not regret it: punchdrunk love!)


see you all on monday! more exclamation marks!

Posted by Sean at 3:00 AM | Comments (2)

July 8, 2004


Arvo Pärt - "Psalom," performed by the Quatuor Franz Joseph. I realize that two classical pieces in one week is rather unusual in this hip-pop-and-go mp3blog world, but we here at Said the Gramophone say: fuck that, let's rock! And by "rock", I mean listen to moving, ghostly music by a contemporary Estonian composer. While StG readers continue to send me terrific songs (hooray! please continue!), I've gotta admit that much of the past few days has been spent listening to a new, Canadian recording of Pärt works. My dad picked it up and it's really, really wonderful - "Psalom," "Fratres," "Es Sang Vor Langen Jahren," two versions of "Summa" (strings and choir), and the centerpiece, "Stabat Mater." The performances - by the Studio de musique ancienne de Montréal (cond. Christopher Jackson), Quatuor Franz Joseph, and countertenor Daniel Taylor, - are exceptional. It's all so beautiful, and yet aches so hard.

Even if you're not one to seek out classical music, do download "Psalom" and tell me what you think. The cello line grows and shifts, meeting the other strings at every step, their dark feet leaving fiery impressions. Long silences, yearning reaches; then, with the bass, the sound of an unmoved acknowledgement. Something hears you but says nothing in reply: the monolithic, (re/un)assuring presence of the old testament god. Beautiful. Terrible. Blind eyes trying to see through the fog. [buy]

I recently but two and two together and realized that since Pärt's from Tallinn, and I'll be visiting Tallinn in November, there might be something related for me to check out... Anyone know?

The New Year - "Disease". I know I'm way behind the ball on this one, but this track from The End is Near retains everything I like from the Kadanes' old band, Bedhead. It stumbles sort of sleepily along, filled with that summer immobility: "106 degrees. The air was hot water, there was no motion in the trees." And then in comes that other guitar, doing chordal things I don't understand for a minute, but the result is that it feels like the skylight's pulled open, that there's suddenly cool air flowing in. Then lurch, we're back in that hot slow place, but then this time when things change the whole place breaks apart, wind flowing everywhere - it's in our hair, the creases in our clothes, the wrinkles of our smiles. Electric guitars surge up, a sound to fill your head; it's a beautiful noise, gentle and strong. "And dis-ease / has found us again." Everything's chiming and ringing and me I don't want to sit down. (Ooh, music video.) [buy]

Posted by Sean at 2:01 AM | Comments (17)

July 7, 2004

the curtains turn to beating wings

Computer troubles mostly fixed, but it looks like I'll stay stuck with OS 10.2.8 for a while yet.

The Weakerthans - "My Favourite Chords". A sweet, deceptively drab song from The Weakerthans' 2001 Left and Leaving. Fingers pass over strings like a comatose John Darnielle, nothing but voice and acoustic guitar till the drums, electric and lap steel appear in those last minutes. John K. Samson is as good a poet as Winnipeg's produced, and this is an urban love song that invents all sorts of new cliches; that paints new scenes instantly familiar. A pair descend upon an empty construction site. She brings her "swiss army knife" and "a bottle of something"; he, "some spraypaint and a new deck of cards." They write "notes to tape to the heavy machines." "'We hope they treat you well.' 'Hope you don't work too hard.' 'We hope you get to be happy sometimes.'" It's beautiful, soft and strong, full of treasured moments for the glow of dawn. While the Weakerthans often tend toward a sort of folky emo, this is a plain open hand, a slow waltz, an honest smile. [buy]

Brown Feather Sparrow - "Shadow Queen". This wonderful Dutch band was introduced to me by Sjaak. Brown Feather Sparrow do blippy folk-pop, reminiscent of Lali Puna or a female-fronted Notwist. "Shadow Queen" is deliciously light, like sun through leaves. It lifts into your ear and then flickers away. Organ synths wander about Lydia Wever's voice, horns calling from down the street. The band exercises terrific restraint, letting the emotion be expressed in the mutedness of the notes, the quick fade. Why wail and flail when there's nostalgia in the pauses between words, passion in the gaps? [buy]

Posted by Sean at 1:22 PM | Comments (6)

July 6, 2004

warm night

Abigail Lapell - "Self-Sympathy". Girl and guitar, sure, but really it's a bare and windy street, clumps of cloud falling from the sky, landing on the dry pavement. The wind blows the little packets of fog around; they collect by storm-drains, in the grafitti-smeared entrances to tenements. A raw ache that's been wined and dined, enlisted for use by a sweet voice. Lapell's guitar-work isn't anything special, but there's beauty indeed in the smoke that flows from her lungs, the way her words disperse storms, set the sky to gently falling. Like a sort of Sandy Denny, Natalie Merchant or Beth Orton, but Abigail lacks the twinkly eyes; instead, round dark things. She's from Montreal and this is from her EP. She has a new album I haven't heard. [buy direct from her]

Nas vs The Knife - "You Take My Nas Away (Barbaro edit)". Via Martin comes a superb mash-up from Barbaro, a Stockholm dj. Nas makes belligerent rhymes over the The Knife's high heaving electro-pop. (The Knife is a Swedish group and Fluxblog golden-boy.) Everything fits together like a chalk jigsaw-puzzle, glittery blackcopper left on your fingers. A steel drum leaves a wistful mark, girls sing like a disconnected Greek chorus. Nas hates the game, hates the game, hates the game... But we play on.


Over at Teaching the Indie Kids to Dance Again, Keith's posted an outstanding song called "The Ratatat remix of Dizzee Rascal's 'Fix Up Look Sharp'". I refer to it as such because it's in that elite class of remixes; it recreates the song as something altogether new, a full-fleshed beginning-middle-and-end. Gone are the barren ghetto whoops, replaced with a wheeze of synths and the flickerflash beats of a predicted nostalgia. Instead of standing solidly over the production, Dizzee's drowning a bit in it, a victim of circumstance, swallowed up like one little kid in an enormous brushed metal city.

#644 is a brilliant new musicblog with mp3 updates, written by my friend (and StG commenteer), Andrew. He's my go-to man for smart hip-hop, downtempo electronica, and Edinburgh pop. Better still, he's funny. (Yes!) And he's off to a great start with thinky criticism-and-accolade posts on Aidan Moffatt (he doesn't like), Grandmaster Flash and Roots Manuva (he does), and Blue States (he wishes they had been hit by a bus, after Nothing Changes and before The Soundings). Do visit..

Posted by Sean at 1:59 AM | Comments (4)

July 5, 2004

mother nature's gonna mess with you

The Dinner Ladies - "Muscle in the Bud". For those of you nursing your July 4 hangovers, here's the finest song the Dinner Ladies ever recorded. Originally from a 1987 7", I first heard it on a Hannibal comp in the mid-90s - it became an instant favourite round the house, a sprightly, catchy tune for mornings-after. Never has it been so thoroughly entertaining to hear about the perils of grape & grain: a ukelele strum, bass bounce, background coos, finger snaps and, indeed, a feisty oh-my-yes whistle solo.

Keb' Mo' - "Every Morning". Another track for the monday a.m. Keb' Mo's acoustic blues comes across without pretense, without facade: it's a steel guitar with things to say, a dawn voice that wishes to sing along. "It may be winter / it may be fall / I might have plenty / or nothing at all / but baby I mean it / whenever you call." The chime of strings, the incessant bass pad, the simple skycrossing sentiment. From his Robert Johnson-tinged, self-titled debut. (Another find by the magnificent Tuwa.) [buy]


Stereogum's been doing very fine things lately, and not just with regard to Britney.

Oh - and again, thanks for all the songs. Wonderful, wonderful finds - if I haven't yet written you back, I will soon. Regardless, things have been so good that I'm excited to hear more. If you're in possession of The Greatest Song Ever, and it's something most people (including me) likely haven't heard, I beg you - send it my way. Thank-you!

Posted by Sean at 3:48 AM | Comments (2)

July 2, 2004

rock me to my soul

A day of food, drink and good company; strangers walking by, emblazoned with the national flag. It's strange to see a city so polite as Ottawa overrun with loud, drunken revellers. But also fun.

My feet are sore. My eyes are heavy. My Grados are slung over my head. I'm feeling happy but quiet.

Thanks so much to those who have been sending me music. Please, more is welcome. So many wonderful things - and as I work my way through it, I will absolutely be sharing a lot of it. We start tonight. Such disparate and wise tastes.

The Mountain Goats - "Song for God". An unreleased song that you can also get from Tiny Telephone, but which came to me via my friend Monica. This is from John Darnielle's boombox days. Simpler times. While the two studio albums have given his songs a fine glass sheen, earlier recordings like this one let his plain words resound longer. Spare lyrics, the flow of voice and breath, the feeling of small confessions and large truths. The acoustic guitar sketches a surprisingly detailed landscape - long, straight lines, the dusty dots of dead-end streets. The song dodges the revelation it contains, rides around it as if afraid to stare plainly, silent in its devotions until the very last lines.

Taj Mahal w/ Toumani Diabate and Lasana Diabate - "Queen Bee". Courtesy of Tuwa comes the most beautiful thing I've heard all week, the most soothing thing I can imagine. Moments like this, sitting here, the music darkblue and brightgold in my ears, words fail me. How to say what I feel, what I hear? The dance of kora and guitar, the twine of blues and Mali soul, the dusty yearning of Taj Mahal's voice and the lightrising yearning of Lasana Diabate's. I feel like watching the stars fade into babyblue, like watching the sun rise and the trees sway. I feel like washing in clear water, like learning how the birds fly. I feel like knowing love - not falling into or out of, but simply living it, breathing it, being rocked by it. I feel alive, whole, like the richest man in the world. [buy (i certainly will)]

Posted by Sean at 2:34 AM | Comments (0)

July 1, 2004

Summer somersault

Happy Canada Day, Canada. Here's to fine contemporary Canadian music - to (in no order whatsoever) Julie Doiron, Kid Koala, Destroyer, the Tragically Hip, the Arcade Fire, Les Mouches, The Stills, Cian Ethrie, the Parka 3, the Diskettes, Broken Social Scene, the Weakerthans, the Unicorns, P:ano, the New Pornographers, the Dears, Sarah Harmer, Kardinal Offishall, Veda Hille, Sloan, Oh Susanna, Jim Bryson, Aaron Booth, Akufen, Greg Macpherson, Boy, the Hidden Cameras, Royal City, Ron Sexsmith, Manitoba, Leslie Feist, Danny Michel, Nathan Lawr, Avril Lavigne, Amon Tobin, Buck 65, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Kepler, the Constantines, Hayden, the Deadly Snakes, Frog Eyes, Be Good Tanyas, the Sadies, the Weekend, Do Make Say Think, Wolf Parade, Barenaked Ladies, and, well, the countless artists I'm forgetting.

Furthermore, in honour of Canada Day, here are two new tracks with American rapper MF Doom.

Viktor Vaughn ft. Kool Keith - "Doper Skiller". From the upcoming Viktor Vaughn album, VV2: Venomous Villain. It's a great track, a light press of synths and skyscraper rhythms - drums and electronic elevator groans. Kool Keith cameos with a surprising single-mindedness, wrapping things up in time for some fine scratching. It's a more curlecued production than we've seen from MF Doom in a little bit. It covers more territory, a sort of chorus-verse-verse-chorus, rather than just circling the same patch of asphalt. I love Doom's grim, rich flow, the solid way with which he releases rhymes. Keith's a fine, cocky contrast.

Zero 7 ft. MF Doom - "Somersault (Danger Mouse remix)". "Sommy- summer- somersault." Doom doses the whispery Zero 7 track with a different sort of thoughtfulness. The words of the rap flow out like carved, wooden figures - each has been handled, considered, perfected. While Zero 7 is content for summer to be vanilla and pink with sighs, MF Doom tells a more detailed, ink-sketch tale. "Ah, the stench of first love / the quench of the thirst made it worse / to need a burst of upper-thrust motion / trust / devotion / lust is like the sand where the beach meets the ocean." Danger Mouse's production isn't far from the song's original aesthetic - acoustic guitar, rhodes, handclaps. But that's fine because it's a sound for July, for drops of sweat and cool air on hot skin.


Please keep droploading me great songs; the Gramophone-bank is running a lil' low. Thanks to all those who have zapped me things so far!

Posted by Sean at 2:45 AM | Comments (0)