I love the new self-titled album by Women. It’s currently available on the near flawless Jagjaguwar label, and since it’s based in Bloomington, serves as possibly the only really awesome thing about Indiana. As you can see, Women is (presumably) four dudes. Sausage fest!
I was introduced to Women (that sounds so odd) by a fellow Tiny Mix Tapes writer who proclaimed that Women is prefect for anyone who “gets their dick up to Animal Collective.” I was certainly intrigued after that statement, especially since he said the word “dick.” And while I would concur that the Calgary band sometimes evokes the more menacing material on Here Comes the Indian and Danse Manitee, Women are by no means a knock-off. Whereas Animal Collective has always exuded a playfulness and childlike veneer, here be dragons within Women. The crescendo of the excellently titled “Lawncare” wants to pillage your village and breed with your women (pun intended, motherfucker). Continue reading ‘Women Shatter Glass Ceilings, Eardrums, Et Al.’
Like drugs and lovers, ’60s psych pop groups were all about sharing songs. West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band delighted in celebrating the work of their peers with a variety of covers that appeared on Volume One. West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, the more tuneful and pop-oriented response to Andy Warhol’s and the VU’s Exploding Plastic Inevitable, dabbled in many genres: lo-fi garage sounds, baroque pop compositions, rollicking vocal harmonies, sunshine psych pop, and general sonic fuckin’ around. Their original songs were catchy, trippy, and fun, but it was when West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band covered a similar band, often yielding something better than the original version, that the group showcased a more unique, remarkable representation of the free decade of love and sharing. Continue reading ‘West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band Has You Covered’
We’re still here… supposedly. I don’t mean that in an existential way, simply that the first CERN experiment went well and Earth was not black-hole-swallowed. There will be more though, so let’s hope everyone at CERN brings their A-game, because I’m totally not in the mood to die. The Decibel Tolls hasn’t even been invited to SXSW yet! That has to happen first. However, assuming the Large Hadron Collider functions smoothly, there’s still a grab-bag of apocalyptic scenarios out there to garner a breathy “fuuuuuuck” to slip from your lips.
Continue reading ‘First, Black Holes – Now, The Antichrist! Egad!’
For those who were absent last time… the Super Swingin’ Mix is, like, a fuckton of MP3s in a single post focused on a particular genre or theme. The songs sequenced are meant to be listened to, ya know, as a mix. Hence, it’s recommended that you enjoy each song in order without commercial interruption. So you should hit Apple + T (or Ctrl + T for you, egad, PC users) on that shit, throw some D’s on that bitch, and keep the MP3s on this page rockin’ whilst you browse whatever it is you browse on the Internets. Rotate thy volume dial clockwise. Tinnitus for days. Today, you guys are getting nine blockbusters – a veritable kaleidoscope of face melters. Nine! That’s one more than eight psychedelic rock bangers to jolly you up and lubricate that brain. Nobody keeps it hype like The Decibel Tolls. Nobody. Pass that Electric Kool Aid.
Now… I have to say that I’m decently pumped for this weekend’s Flugtag. Thanks to the seven useless years (seben jahren!) of German I took throughout school, I can tell ya that Flugtag, directly translated, means “fly day.” What Flugtag really is, though, is the most amazingly, exultantly dumbtarded event ever, which is why I’m stoked for it. Though I had aspirations to participate, it’ll be just as rowdy to observe. You see, this Saturday, September 6th, hundreds will converge onto North Avenue Beach (here in Chicago) to watch their peers launch makeshift flying machines off a 30 ft. ramp into Lake Michigan. Yes, flying machines.
Continue reading ‘Aeroplanes Were Never Meant to Fly’
**For maximum effect, please read the opening paragraph with the inflection of a radio theater narrator circa 1955 or so**
When we last left our heroes, Kenny Bloggins and friends were destroying the paradigm of lame and old hat record reviews with a critique of Microcastle in real-time, before your very eyes. After careful consideration and a positive response from readers, the real-time review is back for another go with Weird Era Cont. Keep your dial locked to this station for keen adventure that can only be described as 23 skidoo! For you listening at home, feel free to follow our friends’ frolic on Last.fm. Continue reading ‘Deerhunter – Weird Era Cont. Review (In Real Time)’
I haven’t heard it yet, since I’m typing this very post from work and the tyrants have firewalled all streaming content, but you probably can (and should) go on and czech the new Brian Wilson jam That Old Lucky Sun from now until Sept. 1 (the day before its release). And, for whatever reason, it’s USA Today that has the jump on this. So go here and let me know how it is. I’ll be right here.
While you’re groovin’ high, I suppose you can also peruse all the hawtttt celebrity gossip USA Today is wont to publish. The article has a nice little timeline available to read so you can get to know B Dubs a little better, though it curiously omits the most fun part of his life – flipping out and building a sandbox around his piano. I hope that That Old Lucky Sun is awesome, but being released to USA Today first doesn’t bode well for its potential awesomeness.
I actually had the pleasure of hearing Brian Wilson speak at a panel during the CMJ Music Marathon 2004 in New York City, right before the Smile sessions were released. He seemed like a nice man. Though he was the keynote speaker that day, he didn’t say much. At all. Whatsoever. Van Dyke Parks did most of the talking, and he would occasionally lean over to Brian and say “isn’t that right, Brian.” “Yes, yes, I remember that. Very fun. Making music. Fun.” It was weird. But it was awesome, too.
Pics or it didn’t happen:
Continue reading ‘New Brian Wilson Streaming Online, New Verve Also Streaming (and Kinda Sucks)’
Wouldn’t it be totally lulzy if I posted a picture of the Seattle landmark and was all like “no, not that Space Needle, silly?!” Oh em gee, that would be hysterical. But since I have no sense of humor that I’m aware of, that won’t happen. Instead, I’d like to talk about how Space Needle (the band) is the fuzziest ever. I’m talking Snuggle Bear fuzzy. And by the way, this is not product placement, I’m really into Snuggle Bear. I fucking love talking bears. Continue reading ‘Space Needle is for Lovers’
