Archives : all posts by Dan

Amadou & Mariam - "Sabali"

A soft and sunlit story of a water ship operator, headed home with a full tank for the whole planet. An ocean-sized tank, made of just enough membrane to carry from one planet to another, plus a small gravity gun. A small quarters for resting and navigation controls, and some mild amusements. Passing radio signals and a canvas-sized viewscreen to look at old masters. The operator, an ensign in the navy, spends most of the days (sun times) reading aloud to the ocean and sometimes illicitly dabbling toes in the water. Most of the nights (shade times) imagining how much the world will be the same and trying to hold back from eating all the desserts in storage. [Buy]

Thee Oh Sees - "Soda St. #1"

I live on Soda St.! Apartment 1! Come the fuck inside! [MySpace]

"Perhaps historical fiction will win a few hearts."
"What do you mean?"
"Put a love story somewhere, anywhere."
"How about during the plague?"
"Which one?"
Discouraged and angry, Charles Dickens fixed himself a drink. Barely able to swallow, his throat raw from sickness, he somehow forced a brandy down and turned quickly around, leaning heavily on the liquor table.
"I'm alone, you know."
"We're all alone, Charles, keep a handle on yourself."
"Don't tell me what to do. You think you know me better than I do."
"I do."
"How dare you. How I hate you some times."
A hacking, deadly cough.
"Charles."
"Get out."
"I love you, Charles."
"Get out."
"I do, Charles. In my way. Forgive me. I suppose it's my feelings making me act this way."
Charles' handkerchief, now overwhelmed at so much coughing, was used up. He thought about his drawer with a spare in it, upstairs in his room, as he tried to ignore the other man's tears.

Prince - "Another Lonely Christmas (Cover by Dump)" | [Buy]

(source)

SECRET AMBIGUOUS FAITH Bishop Allen - "Tiger, Tiger". My Faith tells me that my soul does not like my body. It has been fighting inside me, like a bug in a balloon, all my life. In fact, it's this fighting that has made me grow. I feed the fire twice a day, I hydrate the combatants, and it's this pressure applied on the outer surface of my body that has grown me into the man I am. It's put wrinkles on my face from the strain, it's given me laugh lines because it can tickle, and the disagreement is often funny, and it has drawn out long silences in my days. I understand that my soul wishes to be free, I understand that it doesn't want to be here, or at least not under these terms, and yet I keep it chained. And when a pigeon is hit by a car, or a thousand chickens are made into burgers, my soul gets jealous, angry. My Faith is incredible, I love it, because all of life is being pulled in two directions; pulled apart until your soul can show through, right at the seam, be seen, like steam, but not escape. [Buy from band]

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GOTTA HATE SOMETHING Adrian Orange & Her Band - "Window (Mirror) Shadow". In defense of an album I didn't know existed until now. In deference to the power of a negative review on Pitchfork, I guess I had no reason to know it existed. It got a 3.8, the lower-numbered reviews being hilariously specific, and it's fair and it's unfair and who cares. I'm posting this because it's trees, isn't it? It's completely trees, rainforest trees, heavy wood and light-coloured trunks, but powerful hulking trees. The trees walk with elephant feet, the elephants dance with brick-footed bounce. I'm lost in the heat of it, the heat of breath-sweating trees. [Buy from K] (thanks, Moss!)

Casiotone for the Painfully Alone - "Optimist vs. The Silent Alarm (When The Saints Go Marching In)"

A '96 Lady Trenmoller. Two busted headlights, small as fuck, pink as anything. Full of automated stuff that you have to do manually. The tape player crackles at the perfect volume so it's either too quiet or too loud. Better too loud. Two copies of Ten and a CD of Eddie Murphy but it's useless. Beatles stickers, gum packs with one piece left, and finger marks all over the place. Headrests torn off because they leaned too forward.

[Vs. Children will be released April 7]
[Order Advance Base Battery Life now]

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Pavement - "Brinx Job"

A 1981 Temple Grim Sedan. Green velvet seats that are worn away in yellowing patches. Big Turk wrappers and flattened french fry boxes on brown carpeted flooring. Mad magazines folded and kept stuffed in the back pocket of the driver's seat. Glove box diorama of Mt. Rushmore, armrests everywhere, and a window that needs a screwdriver.

[Buy]

The High Strung - "Rope"

A wedding song for the marriage of sweetness and fire. A marriage no one expected, not sweetness' parents, nor fire's many siblings. And no one can experience that union, that is their secret to keep, we can only experience the results: thick noise, thick drums, thick strings, and the simple honesty of sweetness' voice. [site]

Micachu & The Shapes - "Vulture"

I feel like I'm looking at a sculpture, glass and moving, conjured by someone with blue and sparkling powers. It's kind of spherical but has no fixed shape, it hovers mid-air, and there's lots of security around it. A dress code, a hefty cover, and a membership card to get inside, but inside there's a big party. But how could that be? This thing is no bigger than my two hands clasped. Somehow there's a party in there, and a line-up around the block. I'll wait outside to see if anything changes. I can hear the music just fine. [Buy]

Clues - "Perfect Fit"

Through all the cavities and holes and recesses of your body, swimming through all the veins and spaces between your bones. Up up up through your body, up through your chest, your hollow stomach and drowsy lungs, up through your throat, up past your mouth, your friendly lazy nose, up past your sunken cheeks and missing your empty head and out through your gorgeous pent-up eyes.

Out onto the sidewalk and away.

Past the stores and neighbourhoods and locked-up cars. Winding through all the side streets and garbage-day streets and recycling-day streets. Past all the limping old people, the carriage-pushing rushing mothers, the busy suited sandwiched men, the bright morning light, and down into the town. Whooshing past sewer grates and gutters, cross-walks and all-day shoppers, and up the side of the tall office tower.

Now on the roofs, looking out on all the other roofs and all their from-ground lead-ups. Thoughtless, blind, to the effort it takes for the world to spin enough times to get to this state, the sheer wealth of instinct possessed by all the pieces working together, ignoring all that. Jumping, leaping now, from roof to roof to roof. Smoke from ventilation pipes, gravel from rooftop flooring, car alarms and shouts and sirens all from below. Recycling trucks, coughing, soft breathing all from below. Leaping, higher now, time between landings getting longer. Eventually, soon, cloud cover is broken, and suddenly in the jetstream and taken wherever whenever, completely in control and in new new new new places.

[available May 18th from Constellation]

The Barbaras - "Day at the Shrine"

Lovely and sunny and crackling clappy happy stuff, until it leaves you and you realize it was sung by ghosts. A "day at the shrine" is actually a day in prison for ghosts, they can't go anywhere else. Oh, hell, is this actually a torturous dirge for ghosts? What strange languages the spirit world speaks! What lo-fi tears! [Buy from Goner]

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Elsewhere: I'm posting The Barbaras today because today is the day to pledge for WFMU during The Best Show on WFMU.

Concisely, WFMU is a listener-funded station that is in increasing danger of running out of money due to the fact that most people are running out of money.
Conversely, people are always and will always be willing to support something worthwhile, and WFMU is very worthwhile.
Consequently, I am making you aware, again, of their presence, and also of my favourite radio show in the world: The Best Show on WFMU.

I have written about Best Show before (&), it was Matthew who first introduced me to it, it's a huge whole landscape of all the best, worst, funniest, most touching, most insane parts of talk radio, and it's well worth listening to, and by necessity pledging money, to support its continuation.

Here is a sample from one of the shows, I couldn't possibly explain all the different facets of the show, it's taken me three years to feel like I have a handle on most of the elements, but hopefully this incredibly charming story of a family trip to Penn State will be an enticing taste.

Tom Scharpling hosts The Best Show on WFMU - "The Joe Paterno Story"

How this relates: Pledging to The Best Show, tonight between 8-11pm EST, with a pledge of 75$ or more gets a prize pack unrivaled. Unique and original comedy from Tom Scharpling & Jon Wurster, the team behind Best Show, an originally-recorded various-artists COVER VERSION OF PAUL & LINDA McCARTNEY'S RAM (the whole album covered by Death Cab, Ted Leo, Aimee Mann, Portastatic, The Barbaras and many more) and a whole slew of swag. The two recordings, the comedy and the covers record, will become OUT OF PRINT as soon as the fundraising marathon is over.

[Pledge at WFMU.org tonight at 8PM]
[detailed prize pack info]
[podcast] (Best Show Gems is for the beginner, try it out!)
[archives]
[5 albums of material from the show]

and a bonus for reading this far.

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