This is cross-posted from my Tiny Mix Tapes news article. Oh yeah, forgot to mention… I’m a contributor to TMT now. Look for Kenny Bloggins, FTW:

The latest chapter in the saga of the internet’s leaky faucet and Thunderdome of publicity stunts features a rather unusual, rather awesome story from Mogwai.

Our favorite stalwart purveyors of doom are not deterred by several tracks of the triumphantly-titled The Hawk is Howling racing through the blogosphere, but rather a ‘leaked,’ unfavorable Pitchfork review. The band posted on their official site: “Dear dear me, it seems that there has been a second unfortunate Mogwai related leak this week. This was forwarded to us by an anonymous source, it is the unedited Pitchfork.com review of The Hawk Is Howling.”

However, akin to Mogwai’s technicolor shroud of mystery, it seems entirely probable that Mogwai wrote the review themselves, insofar as most of the writing is not in the typical dissertation-esque format. For example, the supposed Pitchfork writer dives into album epilogue “The Precipice” by lamenting how “guitars curlicue around the pounding of mannish tom-toms like the garland of graying pubic hair around your uncle’s boner… [they] offer you a lollipop and the promise of videogames, the ghost of Slint dulling your senses into a glassy-eyed hypnosis, until you realize that Mogwai are fucking you, fucking you, fucking you.” In “Thank You Space Expert,” Mogwai “absently strike their guitars, glockenspiels and who-diddly-dang-bangles.”

Moreover, sarcastic jabs alluding to common criticisms of Pitchfork reviews are peppered throughout (“I should note here that I will simply use the term ‘music’ in this review… no time for useless genre struggles”). The most compelling evidence, however, is that none of the credited authors in this particular review are listed on Pitchfork’s staff masthead.

If it is real, Pitchfork should up their QA standards. However, since Mogwai has often demonstrated their sense of humor throughout their discography, I’ll put my money on saying that this is a pretty hilarious prank from our favorite cheeky Scots. It appears as Pitchfork might be on the same shitlist as Blur, especially considering the hate brought in its review of Mr. Beast.

Look for the new “Pitchfork is Shite” shirts at the merch booth as they kick tires, light fires, et al. across North America with Fuck Buttons:

09.03.08 – Portland, OR – Roseland Theater
09.04.08 – Seattle, WA – Showbox
09.05.08 – Victoria, BC – Element
09.06.08 – Vancouver, BC – Commodore
09.08.08 – San Francisco, CA – Grand Ballroom
09.09.08 – Los Angeles, CA – Wiltern
09.10.08 – Tucson, AZ – Rialto
09.12.08 – Austin, TX – Stubb’s BBQ
09.13.08 – Dallas, TX – Granada Theatre
09.15.08 – Atlanta, GA – Variety Playhouse
09.16.08 – Richmond, VA – The National
09.17.08 – Washington, DC – 9:0 Club
09.18.08 – New York, NY – Terminal 5
09.19.08 – Philadelphia, PA – Starlight Ballroom
09.21.08 – Monticello, NY – Kutshers Country Club (ATP)
09.22.08 – Boston, MA – Wilbur Theatre
09.23.08 – Montreal, QC – Metropolis
09.25.08 – Pontiac, MI – Crofoot
09.26.08 – Chicago, IL – Congress Theatre
09.27.08 – Minneapolis, MN – First Avenue

MP3 :::
Mogwai – Devil Rides (ft. Roky Erikson)

Perhaps it was just the acoustics of the Frank Gehry designed amphitheater, but Califone got better since last time we met. Tim Rutuli’s vocals were at their most melodic and pop-aware, meanwhile the band was increasing their sonic depth before your very eyes, unfurling louder, thicker, trippier soundscapes that were strange even for Califone. Walls of thick ambience, collapsing structures and disjointed melodies, violins, horns, jingly percussion – Califone did not fuck around. Seeing them reminded me of why I like Animal Collective, as in, there were two very disparate forces pulling away from each other at the same time. While one segment of the music moved more into the major key pop realms, the other spun off into a noisy, marshmallowy sea of sine wave shredding psych. Jesus fuck, they were really good. The hippie contingent was out in full force, too, which is always fun to see juxtaposed with all the douchey fasttrack business folk.

Sorry about the shaky video. I wasn’t allowed to approach the front of the stage (“we ask that you don’t record performances”), so I was at a distance, in addition to having a lethal amount of caffeine pumping through me. But the sound quality is great! “The Orchids,” as I recently discovered, is a Psychic TV song, though Califone’s cover is rather righteous, especially live.