tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79672599947890119902024-03-13T17:44:23.739+02:00SAD BIRTHDAYS/we're the dogs that ate/
/your birthday cake/SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comBlogger194125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-87740162644495024502015-04-08T17:42:00.001+02:002015-04-08T18:35:24.316+02:00Top 5 Covers<div style="text-align: right;">
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Had an urgent need to tell you of mine.<br />
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Feel free to post yours in the comments and I will add them to the post.<br />
IF THEY'RE VALID. No. Just kidding. But not really, but kinda. Mostly.</div>
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<u>My top 5 Covers. As of now, at least.</u></h2>
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-- Because angular guitaring. Because Slits. --</div>
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-- Better than the Springsteen version: Because minimal. Because
overdriven casio. Because somehow more frank and confessional than the
original. And mostly because I am biased towards CFTPA. --<br />stream it from our mediafire. The correct version was NOWHERE.<br /><a href="http://www.mediafire.com/listen/dpptijz3lmni9da/12+-+streets+of+phildadelphia+%28w+concern%29.mp3" target="_blank">CFTPA - Streets of Phily (stream on mediafire)</a><br />
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One of the greatest shows of timing and calm - anyone who has ever done looping live knows the terror of *just* being out, by like a 16th note.<br />
UGH.<br />
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Please tell me this cover of New Order's 'cover' isn't great. <br />
Bet you can't.<br />
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<br />SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-45724204267523320442015-03-21T22:50:00.003+02:002015-03-21T22:50:44.693+02:00weird honey. elvis depressedly. too lowcaps to live.<br />
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I don't want to speak about elvis depressedly because he is ruining my life.</div>
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I heard this first:</div>
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<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Then I listened to this:</div>
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<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://ytimg.googleusercontent.com/vi/gsTGJaECheA/0.jpg" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/gsTGJaECheA?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
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Which saved my life in 12 or so minutes. <br />Then it ruined my life, quite alot.<br />Finally I got so disturbed that I put it on repeat.<br />Because I am a masochist.<br /><br /><br /><br />This is the video for weird honey.<br />I don't like first listens with a video. It detracts.<br /></div>
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SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-15166930850936712542015-03-21T22:29:00.000+02:002015-03-21T22:34:40.593+02:00Spiderman of The Rings. Dan Deacon. Pink Batman. Are you piqued?<br />
Also: it's called <i>Spiderman of The</i> fucken<i> Rings</i>.<br />
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<br /><br />This song is very good:<br />
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Also, this song made me cry.<br />Because PINK BATMAN.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://ytimg.googleusercontent.com/vi/7d7Soe_MiqQ/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/7d7Soe_MiqQ?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe>SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-73017968481157729142015-03-21T21:06:00.003+02:002015-03-21T22:26:19.515+02:00It's Wildly Important That You Listen To This.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://static.stereogum.com/uploads/2015/02/lightningbolt-608x608.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://static.stereogum.com/uploads/2015/02/lightningbolt-608x608.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">It is <b>also</b> of vital import that you follow, <i>in no uncertain terms</i>, the following, helpful and necessary instructions:<br /><br />1.Put your headphones on.<br />2.Have the decency and respect to disable any EQ modifications your system may or mayn't have.<br />3.If you have a decent streaming speed you may click that coggy-guy on youtubesels and make it at 720p.<br />Done? Good.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: x-small;"> <br />If, unfortunately, you have no cans but </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: x-small;">do have the capability to play it <br />VERY </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: x-small;">FUCKEN LOUD <br />you may do that instead.</span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: x-small;"><span style="text-align: center;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: x-small; text-align: center;"> Also:</span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: x-small; text-align: center;"> If there are any oher people about who give as many fucks as you do</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="text-align: center;"> you must drag them and tell them to</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"> SIT THE FUCK DOWN and </span><span style="text-align: left;">SHUT THE FUCK UP.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: x-small;"> If they protest, you should ignore it.</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><i>And, now, you may click play.</i></span></b></h3>
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<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You are now listening to the album of the year.</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I say that fully conscious of the repercussions I be proven wrong, which I won't. I say it conscious of it's inherent absurdity(this year ain't over yet). I truly understand of the </span><i style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">weight</i><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"> of such a statement to a true believer.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">But this </span><i style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">is</i><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"> the album of the year. And there are reasons. Vastly important and transcendent ones.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">This world that they have crafted - out of sheer will and brutal urgency, this completely fully realised place constructed of manipulations of sound is so tangible and immediately engaging.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Which is unavoidably, really. It batters and forces itself on you and there is no way to avoid it - no way to master your own perception of it, it is GIVEN to you. And I hope they realise the burden they have crafted for themselves - something that, for other musical reasons of less importance is the reason Radiohead became exceedingly shit and tedious.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">And, like with The Raveonettes,</span><i style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> </i><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">there is now no reason to EVER listen to anything else the band has made before, or will make ever again: since they have now ruined their careers.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">I will only listen to </span><i style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Lust Lust Lust.</i><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"> Any other LP is pointless.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">But, see, this album even transcends the vastness of that:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">it exemplifies musical progression in all it's manners and forms.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">This has all been done before, really. But not like this, no.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">This music has, like the mythical battering ram of Sauron, </span><i style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Grond</i><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"> bashed down a knowing we have known since we ever knew that we could know: sound can be narrative.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">And this is, via its absolute pandemonic forward thrash, via the force and brutality of being absolutely and richly itself pure sonic narrative. And the narrative is strong, and so believable that the </span><i style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">reality</i><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"> of what they have done is going to be quite that thing whenst - unless they have already - realised it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">And you don't even have to like it.<br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">AND HERE IT IS: <a href="https://www.mediafire.com/?bvd30xh732gohhc" target="_blank">SO DOWNLOAD THIS BITCH.</a></span></span>SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-51135674234788200012014-07-15T09:32:00.000+02:002014-07-15T12:27:05.704+02:00Hipster cunts<style>
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I’ve never been one for latest fashion. It’s way too much hard work trying
to keep up. One misstep and you're fucked. My ex-girlfriend (from way back –
she is still referred to as my ex because I’ve not had another one since
her) has recently developed a beard fetish. Men with beards, that is. Not
growing one of her own.<br />
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I don’t get it. A once no-chinned and zero charisma fuckwit suddenly becomes
interesting and mysterious because he's grown facial hair for a year and
looks like he’s just finished chopping wood. If you live in a log cabin, gather honey, trap small animals and make your own hinges via blacksmithing
methods, I’d come and shake your hand, but like those cunts hanging out at Warm
& Glad: they do not. I repeat: do-fucking-not do those things.<br />
<br />
And buying sleeveless puff
jackets from ‘Cape Union Mart’ doesn't fucking count as really being a rugged
outdoor adventurer either. It’s fake manliness. You live in a flat in Hyde Park
that your parents bought for you after you dropped out of WITS where you house
your wobbly wind-up turntable that can play 78s, a single-gear bicycle and free-trade
coffee plunger (after getting rid of your CDJs, in-line skates and USN
whey-protein tornado shaker) It’s all a farce. An illusion. And the girls that
fall for this shit are as dumb as those that go for the smooth gym boys with
their BMWs who still live at home or those cunts who all went and bought long black leather
coats after watching The Matrix and looked angry all the time like they’d been
relieved of sniper duty. Just try and talk these people and you’ll see that
there is nothing there. No substance. It’s all frontage. Window dressing. A
facade designed to trick the viewer in to thinking they are something they are
not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
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The problem with people who think they know everything is that they take up
space amongst those of us that do.<br />
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Whenever there is hipster talk, there is inevitably music reference. Lets get
something straight – music snobbery has been around for a long time and I’m
fucked if some bunch of commune-living, hairy cunt-faces in plaid shirts,
braces, horn-rimmed glasses with no lenses who own looms are going to claim
ownership of that time honoured tradition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Anyone can be into bands no one has ever heard of. It's super easy. Christ,
you can make up bands and people will nod knowingly.<br />
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Don't be one of these cunts...<br />
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Here are a bunch of traditional beardo weirdos not on your typical hipster quill-and-ink
hand-written mixtape (with edible organic rice paper insert):<br />
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Michael McDonald<br />
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Kenny Loggins<br />
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ZZ Top<br />
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Barry Gibb<br />
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Cat Stevens (Andrew the DJ: be-fucking-ware. Borderline Stevens territory)<br />
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Kenny Rogers<br />
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Let it be known that Michael McDonald is the undisputed king of yacht rock and the voice of a generation. I was spinning Doobie Brothers 12"s when you were still learning to wipe your arse.<br />
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MELVIN (hates everything) SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-1590756508753205252014-07-04T14:33:00.000+02:002014-07-15T10:57:52.528+02:00Personalised number plates<style>
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<br />
<br />
Driving to my god-awful job this morning there appeared before me a landmass of a Land Rover. Not an uncommon sight in Johannesburg
where it’s a necessity to have a vehicle so fucking big it doesn't fit into
regular parking bays so one either has to use up two bays or squeeze some
regular considerate normal sized car parker through his boot or passenger door.
This one was different. It had a personalised plate.<br />
<br />
Normally I wouldn't give a fuck. If you’ve got and extra 5 grand to piss
away for 8 letters on two pieces of plastic then well fucking done to you. <br />
<br />
This Land Rover’s p-plate was ‘LANDY 6’. Well fuck me! I’ve seen a SLK 55
with the plate ‘SLK55AMG’, a Porsche 911 with ‘911TURBO’ and so on. What sort
of unimaginative cunt does that? Was the standard issue model badge thing not
big enough? Did it fall off? Is repeating yourself a mental itch? Duplication a design trend? Need to highlight the fact that you're much more successful to other less fortunate drivers? That aside, my problem with ‘LANDY 6’ was that five other
cunts got in there first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Imagine being
a fly on the wall at the licensing department as they went through all the
options to get to 6.<br />
<br />
So here are my top 6 songs for those ‘out-of-the-box-blue-sky’ thinkers whose personal
number plates match the model of their car. They're totally interchangeable with songs
picked for meaningless power point presentations about ‘drilling down’, ‘core
values’, ‘taking it to the next level’ and 'kicking it up a gear'. God knows I’ve sat through a few
of those…<br />
<br />
R. Kelly- I believe I can fly<br />
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Roxette – Dressed for success<br />
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Johnny Nash – I can see clearly now<br />
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Matthew Wilder – Break my stride<br />
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Sound of Music – Climb every mountain<br />
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Survivor – Eye of the tiger<br />
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<br />
Oh, and anything by Coldplay<br />
<br />
<br />
Use them to inspire. Use them to reach out. Use them to fuck off.<br />
<br />
MELVIN (hates everything) SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-47967469024499375442014-05-22T23:13:00.000+02:002014-07-15T10:58:13.100+02:00The Black Keys<br />
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Sad birthday indeed! I turned 54 the other day and spent it alone (by
choice). I hate my birthday. I hate having to be nice to people who speak to me
once a year especially when they hang about after saying the words ‘happy birthday’
and spew forth riveting questions like, ‘So whatta ewe dewing for ya birfday?’
and ‘Are you being spoilt?’ Nothing. No. Fuck off. Really…fuck off.<br />
<br />
Repeat all day long.<br />
<br />
Then every cunt in the accounts department crawls out of the dark hole
they’re kept in all year and demolish the cake I'm forced to buy (stupid company
policy…they should buy the cake!) I’ve solved this part...<br />
Bring out the quality
cake and let the boss and a few key people responsible for my continued
employment know on the sly. Once they're all done, I insert into the hellhole
known as the communal kitchen the SPAR abominations of cheap-arse milk tarts
and things covered in coconut for everyone else and then alert them by group
office internal mail. It’s devoured in seconds. <br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />
The same amount of seconds it took me to realize that the new Black Keys is
basically Rod Stewart’s ‘Blondes have more fun’ or KISS's 'Dynasty'. Hairdressing salons all over the northern suburbs now have something
‘rocky’ to play that won't alienate the clientele who are normally subjected to
‘uplifting vocal house’ or Café Del Mar 5.<br />
<br />
MELVIN (hates everything)SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-18365033602062737232014-04-05T22:17:00.000+02:002014-04-05T22:17:40.052+02:00FacepunchersOne can bitch, one can moan.<br />Two can create a conversation about it.<br />Three can meta the fuck out of it and extrapolate reasonings, contextual markers, residual trappings.<br /><br />One can do all these.<br />But one is trying to make good.<br /><br />The point of this place, this blog, is the sharing of music as much in the sonic sense as in the sense that once you're in, you're in. There are things I can say, here, that many would not care about or, perhaps - and don't presume I'm getting all Nazi and L33t, we're past presumptions: I am and I don't care if you think anything of that.<br />Now. one man has many subjective things to opine, vitriolically or in some kinda staid manner. This place is free form. Ultimate goal: sharing. Secondary: a place for people who get pained by the latest release because it's been all they've thought aboutfor the past two weeks, people who put a song on repeat for three hours only for it to get better, People who want to punch things in the face about how good the new Psy-reurgence is turning out.u<br /><br />So, I need people to help keep the content flowing. Quite urgently. I'm kinda busy trying to make good, in the life sense - and blog readers ain't givin' no fucks 'bout that, yeh? Indeed.<br /><br />So, if you read this and think you could post something as simple as a youtube link and a one-liner or maybe a mini-paragraph stating factoids about a new release - or committed effervesce of the suckdick nature AND if you think you could post something twice a week or so, please mail me.<br /><br />The more the merrier: wider scope, both in voice and sonics.<br /><br />Mail <span style="font-size: large;">sadbirthdays@gmail.com<br /><span style="font-size: small;">and I'll send you the passwords. I just want people that give a fuck. And I want this place to expand into something people can rely on -- interviews are welcome, weekly columns are cool, mixtapes - anything. There is no content restriction. As long as it's about music and the sharing of it - or ideas about it.<br />Please help me keep this running.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /></span>SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-4163898811523418042013-09-06T20:23:00.002+02:002013-09-07T00:27:55.688+02:00TIRZAH - I'M NOT DANCING EP<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tirzah is a London based musician who I’ve been following with great interest over the past couple of months after seeing her perform with Micachu for her<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></span></span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dKLNAX5Aw6s"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Boiler Room set</span></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> </span>earlier this year.</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://www.rockfeedback.com/images/Tirzah-Micachu-Im-Not-Dancing-Video_2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://www.rockfeedback.com/images/Tirzah-Micachu-Im-Not-Dancing-Video_2.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i>She has recently put out an EP, <i>I’m Not Dancing</i>, released on the increasingly prolific London-via-Berlin label Greco-Roman. The EP presents three (and a half) tracks of noteworthy calibre. The title track, <i>I’m Not Dancing, </i>is almost facile in its structure yet conveys a palpable complexity of emotion embedded in a very raw, gritty yet shimmering soundscape. The trend is continued with <i>Inside Out, </i>which combines alluring RnB-esque vocals with gloomy, churning synths. Tirzah and her beguiling take on D.I.Y pop are sure to find purchase amongst those who value the somewhat scrapyard approach to music that Micachu( who produced the EP) has shown over the past couple of years.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And yes, this EP was released more than a month ago already. STFU I’ve been busy.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Check out the video for I'm Not Dancing as well as Inside Out below.</span></span></div>
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SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-72055486604205831262013-05-29T17:46:00.001+02:002013-05-29T21:30:26.040+02:00Let's Get Serious. Darkwing Duck fucken Serious.<div style="text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Because using PAINT badly is mysterious and sexy <br />and often leads to drinking and rough sex with multiple partners.</span></td></tr>
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I was thinking about Radiohead today, deeply: pensive, of course. I didn't have a gun. Or sandwiches. But my brow was wrinkled, seriously wrinkled - and, well, serious thought was required: Because, Radiohead are serious musicians who deserve to be taken seriously.<br />
And there's alot to be serious about because, clearly, Radiohead are 'N 2 IT' and viciously engaged on all the levels. Especially the ones that only Elvis Costello knows about - and he's got All The Angles.<br />
<br />
Well... honestly, boys...<br />
I disengaged. I lost interest. It was a couple - read 2 - albums back because, well... heavy lies the crown, right? Right.<br />
And you certainly are heavyweights. You're basically matrics, big kids - wizardy seniors to all us paupery juniors - playing Rugby against the U14C team and, well, playing hard, no holds, and taking the game as seriously as super serious is serious.<br />
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Big Fish. Small Pond.<br />
Heavy Crownz.<br />
NECKS.<br />
*<br />
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<b><u>FACT</u></b>: It cannot be terrifically easy being the world's most famousest, forward-thinking, self-conscious, socially aware, politically radical, introspective, interrogative, intelligent, politely conscientious & all round dilligent bands in the ever.<br />
<br />
So, WELL.. I guess this slightly drunk on gin nips behind the desk teacher NEEDS to go to the school cupboard... <br />
GOLDSTARZ all round boys! TOTEZ 4 REALZ! WE ALL LOVE YOU.<br />
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<i>I think I smell pee. Oh. Wait. It's me. Fuck</i>... ... ... </div>
</div>
</div>
<br />
Anyway, look, I can mostly imagine that it's largely terrifying beyond an unequal measure being Radiohead. <br />
Or perhaps it isn't. ...Perhaps it's so abysmally easy it defies logic.<br />
Only Thom's dystopically winking lazy eye in it's omniscient and omnipotent glory knows.<br />
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I can hear the band softly sniggering, behind their hands, at their meticulously constructed fuckery, smug as dolphins. My butthurts.<br />
<br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">But, really, no more funsies. FOR REALSIES. </i><span style="font-weight: bold;">Let's get MAD serious. Brass fucken tacks, black cunting hole, Higgs father-fucken Boson Serious.</span><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">So...</span> </b>Radio-<i>fucken</i>-head. <br />[[And, yes, they get a "fucken." Hey. Fuck y'all. Stop booing before I squirt you with warm gin and throw pens at you.]]<br />
<br />Man, look, it's just too much.They've gotten so used to the crown the <i><u>we, the cunts of this tale</u>,</i> <u>put on <i>their</i> heads</u>, and just so ok with it all, that they became too afraid to - to rigidly careful about it staying there - to let it slip and clatter to the floor whilst they (throwing off cloaks, or something [aesthetics, aesthetics]) - strode up to and clanked open the doors of their Ivory Tower, viciously, purposefully and with menace and trudged down steps and steps and steps:- down to the stink and noise and shit and piss and sweet garbage and booze-stained jeans, the vomit-flecked hair, the drug-addled eyes, the wild talk, the flame, the fire, the light, the blood-rinsed snare, the bleeding knuckles, the casually revelled in shame... the stolen, broken, jury-rigged gear, the utter beautiful stench and wet and THERE of a band, <b>killing themselves</b>, in a dark place, jostling - mind, body, heart - with the six humans who want it as much as they do: <br />us commoners. <br />us fuzz-drenched idiot-savants; clutching fear and pain and hope and light: We suck. HARD. And we swallow. All of it. Seriously, sucking the dick of rockenroll never tastes sweeter when spitting the load at our fear and hate or when spitting at a copy, a facsimile, of the same self-indulgent derivative drivel we hope we can make afeared of our awful enought to let us the fuck alone. <br />Or just spit the cum at the drummer's face. Chances are he likes it.<br />
<br />
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I want sweat.<br />
I want that broken pedal that is now, somehow, perfect.<br />
I want you to fetch me at 2 for some binge: getting productive whilst effed in the ay with you has never felt better.<br />
I want that 3 o' clock track or sketch or fleshed action, made, on the factory floor, in the dust: dripping your effort off the tip of your nose as you smile at me.<br />
<br />
I want humm & buzz & obviously, tits out, because because - because um like, it's totes cool... it's not, you know, sexual or nothing... just like, you know, walk around and do stuff. Like anything. Smoke cigarettes... make some tea... play scrabble... read DUNE... only just, well, with your top off... It's be so mad cool and bohemian and if you NEED a reason other than Life Aquatic - as if you would - well... fuck. Ok. Don't. Fine. Everyone hates you.<br />
TANLINES.<br />
<br />
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Then I want you to slap me, hard, to LCD's Losing My Edge, for EVERY SENTENCE IN THIS RAMBLE... and then, perhaps, fix me a strong drink - <b><i>thanks, dear</i></b> - and tell me, earnestly and with a dash of lemonade, how self-aware and intelligent I am. Then we could kiss, here, depending, you know - just let me put on Chelsea Girls' #2.<br />
But I want it to sting, on my cheeks, so slap hard, BITCH.<br /><br />
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I want it wrong.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
I want it integral, I want it earnest, I want to delicate or cruel intent and will and, with pain, I want it thrust into the world. I want you to care.<br />
I want you to punch me in the mouth, then put a lit cigarette between my lips; then let us talk.<br />
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*</div>
<br />
Forgetting to remember to forget is tough as all hell: but somehow, some cunts, secretely superglued that crown to <i>Their </i>fatherfucken heads. <br />
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We <i>forced </i>their hands.</div>
<br />
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They had no chance after <i>Kid A</i>.<br />
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<b>It was a bloodbath of soaring expectations. -------------------------------</b><br />
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<span style="font-size: large; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">-----------It was mafuggen Amnesiac.</span><br />
+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_<br />
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<br />WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE<br /><br />Ok. -------------FUCK, OK..........<br /><br />
Ok. Breath here.<br /> *sips beverage, wipes dribble on chin*<br />
<b>*crosses arms seriously, leans in*</b><br />
<u><b>Let's get down to nails.</b></u><br />
<br />
--->Radiohead <i>are</i> important.<br />
Important enough to need more "categories' if we're going to do a best of Them, of their works.<br />
<b>And </b><i style="font-weight: bold;">DING DING DING LOVERS!</i><br />
<b>IT's not just Best Album, KIDZ! IT's MOAR MOAR MOAR........<br /></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">SO... Grab Your Fucken Crayonz, CUNTZ, let's GO.</span></b></div>
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<br />
<u style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Best Radiohead Album</span></u><br />
<br />
And I do, punch you in the gut real hard, I really do mean AL-<i>fucken</i>-BUM. A true album.<br />
It's a strangely falling into shadows art-form, the fully-realised and holistically crafted album in this blog-buzz-dominated twist in the temporal relativistics and half-hearted swift gobbly consumption: artists spewing out EPs and digital singles with no LP-length repsite.<br />
Maybe I've been blinded by all the crosses and triangles and faux-hip forced ASCII symbols as I say this, choking on my whisky, and I hate it BUT: coins flip. And all statements have grey in them. ALL.<br />
The MoreMore DL cult has forced a amphet-quickening into music veins and now we fuck every genre, fuck with wild abandon and haste, gestating, too quick for belief, idiotically articulate cross-boundary babies, hatching in their MANY like mounds of fucken spider eggs in your aural holes, hatching all over your brainbox's meat till you pass out from TOO MUCH.<br />
One day all music will be coloured.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><u>IT's OBVS</u></i> </span><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">KID fucken A</span>. <br /><br />PUT YOUR FUCKEN HANDS DOWN. NO! SHADDUP. <br />That is all. <br />No RUDDY questions.</b> </div>
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<br />
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<b>~~</b><br />
<br />
<u style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Best collection of songs?</span></u><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Amnesiac, fucker.</span> </b><br />
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<b>-PUT. DOWN. HANDS.-</b><br />
<b>-TEACHER SPEAKING, cunts-</b><br />
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<br />
<i>[[*lights fag, happily, smirks at J, sips juice - which OBVS contains triple gin: cos I'm LaidBack like HotChips, warning, with no emote: I'll break your legs, I'll snap off your head... from my chair, thinking, always, of boys and girls who sure look good in uniform... on dancefloors*]]</i><br />
<br /><br />
<u style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Most Enjoyable Work</span></u><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Why, it's </b><i style="font-weight: bold;">The BENDS</i><b> of course. What else?</b></span><br />
It's straight fucken up RH just being the talented cunts they are.<br />
They're shitting good, aren't they fuck? Fuck. Holy pissing whiskey Jesus, this band isn't even trying: It's just flowing out of them, seemingly, like ADVERB SHITTING VERB ADJECTIVE EXCLAMATION CUTING NOUNS.<br />
<br />
<u style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Most Revolutionary Release</span></u><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Ok, Computer</i>.</span> <br />It's RADIOHEAD (in caps, now, urgently stretchin and flexing, glowing blue screen flicker, fluxing, posing, diving into the VOID, into the black: only to emerge as Kid A, grown into a super-humanoid android crystal glowing energy and OTHER).<br />
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YAH, that sounds fucken wack. What was I thinking?<br /></div>
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</div>
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But me, I'm ever purposeful: </div>
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How <i>infinite wack</i> was the wizardly spot-off timing of the release of Amnesiac? <br />How infinitely fucked were people's heads?</div>
<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">TOTEZ FUCKED.</span></b><br />
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<i><br />[[~~I think someone at Rolling Stone, or something,]]</i><br />
<i>[[~~literally shat rainbows from sheer HOLYFUCK.]]</i><br />
<i>[[~~True as fuck fucken Story.]]</i><br />
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<br />
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*</div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">And, now, I REALLY JUST CAN'T be SRS anymores. <br />I'm donesies. <br />This explosive-verbosity is stenching. Each word, sentence, sentiment... opinion... FUCT...STAHP... Shit............<br />SMOKE. DRINK.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="text-align: center;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;">Oh, and just saying:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;">DECEPTACON</span><br />
<i style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">*Released '99, fucks. IT'S A GODAMN 90s SONG. Jesus. Lesbians. Girls Moustaches of Dance-Punk Awesome.</span><br /><br /><b>LEARN THE MOVES OR NO FRIENDLY.</b></i><br />
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SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-2905291262005339082013-05-29T02:06:00.000+02:002013-05-29T16:14:34.133+02:00Top 5 Opening Tracks.<h3>
WAS TOP5'ing WITH J.<br /><br />HERE'RE MY TOP5 TRACK 1 SIDE 1's.<br /><br />MAIL ME YOURS: SADBIRTHDAYS@GMAIL.COM<br /><br /><br />NO ORDER. SHEESH, AS IF I COULD. FUCK. <br />~ C.</h3>
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That bassline. It jumps and jostles and affects smiles for miles.</div>
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This album is a masterpiece. ...</div>
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If you only listen to one Arcade Fire song EVS, this one tells you ALL you need to know.</div>
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If a song is going to track in at an epic whopping 9 minutes plus, it best have a good payoff.</div>
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This song is perfect perfect perfect. Each graduation in the layering is just in the right time, just at the right volume... just... fuck.</div>
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The sardonic cheering at the end will make you want to shoot someone in the head, or go take a warm bath with a razor blade, and some candles. You know, aesthetics.</div>
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*******************************</div>
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And also, in no particular order either. Here are mine.</div>
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~ J.</div>
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<span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">[I'd have put Is This It? But you've just heard it, annnnnd I think I've said quite enough about The Strokes right over... >> </span><a href="http://vandalstookthehandle.com/2012/10/30/better-late-than-never-a-belated-10th-year-anniversary-thought-on-is-this-it/" style="font-size: medium; font-weight: normal;">here</a><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">]</span></div>
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</h3>
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Here's a super happy track to kick things off! Nobody plays a Dirge quite like these taciturn motherfuckers. This is pure control and simplicity; a taut as fuck piece of beautiful, 2-chord post-punk grunt.</div>
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Disorder. Period.</div>
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This song: flawless. This particular presentation of that song? More flawless.</div>
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There's a lot of hit and miss with Blondie, but this? This is a definite fucking hard hit. It doesn't hurt that the band's fronted by the sexiest flippen bitch in music, ever. Fuck her for being 30 when she started Blondie man; FUCK HER!</div>
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I've been hooked on this <a href="http://www.songfacts.com/detail.php?id=6079">song </a>since I first heard that opening <a href="http://panologist.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/celesta.jpg">celesta </a>cascade. Thank heavens John Cale found one in the studio at the time of recording. Thanks gods also that Lou sang it and not Nico.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpKewOjIP_W_3IzwHjGaZt4tDtXhfM5yRAillZn7bWiEoJZQN1umOp1kZCRYdSi4TiaMzuB9cadEbF_HWv_3xkcMr01MrWwCUrTrmfxPn9YWQjoXTZEMsA3P2CJDxp5k_GMDlXRa-aefs/s1600/celesta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpKewOjIP_W_3IzwHjGaZt4tDtXhfM5yRAillZn7bWiEoJZQN1umOp1kZCRYdSi4TiaMzuB9cadEbF_HWv_3xkcMr01MrWwCUrTrmfxPn9YWQjoXTZEMsA3P2CJDxp5k_GMDlXRa-aefs/s320/celesta.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Some <a href="http://www.songfacts.com/detail.php?id=6079">songfacts</a>:</div>
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"This song is all about last-minute changes. The inclusion of the track on their first album was literally penciled in, Reed decided to take over vocals at the last minute as they walked into the studio to record it, and John Cale noticed a celesta in the studio and decided to include the instrument for the song on the spot. Cale also played the viola on the song."</div>
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And all this last minute shit is what makes it the fucking stupidly great song it is.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 19px; font-weight: bold;">*******************************</span></div>
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SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-62041134491884629082013-04-29T11:23:00.004+02:002013-04-29T11:25:41.511+02:00It's Poppy. It's Dreamy. It's Pure. It Slays. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVWMl67un6DWQRsq1U1wcrA9-mjepSUW3VAnv5mmEQZtnG9LYaFa7UIZrNPQv_V7AcsGIKSIQo8oPT0vEqct9GE9q9Sa2oQ5Xb6-OBUkN4MoSAvYZTmmxWXx-p3rHHharYcuRplMjEs6I/s1600/CHORDETTES+VENUE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVWMl67un6DWQRsq1U1wcrA9-mjepSUW3VAnv5mmEQZtnG9LYaFa7UIZrNPQv_V7AcsGIKSIQo8oPT0vEqct9GE9q9Sa2oQ5Xb6-OBUkN4MoSAvYZTmmxWXx-p3rHHharYcuRplMjEs6I/s400/CHORDETTES+VENUE.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />FUCKEN FAIRYLAND,YEH? I WANT TO GO TO THERE.<br />
AND IT BEST BE IN BLACK AND WHITE ELSE I PUNCH A SMALL, WEAK CHILD.</td></tr>
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<br /><br /><br />****</div>
Jesus, look at these sweethearts. Slaying boys, all over the shitting place.<br /><br />
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<br /><br /><br />
Look. It's simple. This song absolutely destroys the shit out almost any song ever created. <br />
Utterly and almost entirely. That is all. Press play.<br />
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<span style="text-align: start;">And, look, you too can see the najestic simplicity. You, too, can attempt to fathom how this is perfect pop beauty:</span><br />
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<br />
<br />
Get the fucken rest yourself. <br />Also, listen to it again. Right?? Right? Right. Damn fucken right.<br />
<br />SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-29463415198289086682013-04-29T06:30:00.000+02:002013-04-29T08:45:59.347+02:00Go Kill Yourselves, Cunts (or side with the seeds)<br />
These kids have more *distilled* Americana & Folk in their <i>little fingers</i>, in the <i>subtle nuance</i> and <i>meta-fucking-layering</i> hiding behind faux-softiness and 'easy-listening' in any of their songs than <b><u>THOSE fuckers</u></b> (yeah, say it again, out loud, you know you want to: <u style="font-weight: bold;">THOSE fuckinnng Ffuhckerrs</u>) who think that a couple of necessary beards , a dashing of plaid, perhaps a banjo, and oh, christ, jesus: one lone miserable & distraught cunty-faced little girl with a tambourine & oh, god, if we're feeling uppity, perhaps a stand-up drummer, with flourishes yeah... <br />
and, yes, children, this all adds up to Folk. You've got it. Well fucking done. You're godamn Americana. No. Wait. But then you get to play with one of the members of The Band - if you, reader, care you know which one, if you're alive and into music you know which fucken song - yeah, you're - and I mean <b>THEM -</b> folk. Go kill yourselves. <br />
Wait. Go write a note saying how sorry you are, then do it. Jump off something high... fall screaming... and then holy shit, Superman swoops you up... and you smile, saved... and then he let's go: to drop you from higher. <i>You cunt</i>, he whispers, as you fall from his angelic grasp, speechless. And, yeah, I know I ripped off Louis' joke. Eat a dick.<br />
<br />
<br />
Or, rather, listen to this, below these here sentences, when I finally stop.<br />
Then <u>go kill yourself</u>, because, if you're a musician, you'll probably never make it to your Wilco Phase, not even close. You'll wake up, have a kid, your kid, rubbing shit in your mouth; and you'll be sad, right deep in your fucken eyes, where no-one looks, not one of your shitty friends, because they're all too cunty to care enough. And you'll see whatever passes for the next hodge-podged, stolen, filtered through kidneys and pissed out beautiful new progression of genre-blends - or purification of one ( traitorously debased, in this case), holy, stalwart music truth - and you'll throw your kid at the wall, kick your dog in the face, fuck your wife in the ass, shoot a fucken cripple and realise this: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yYCz06bS380">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yYCz06bS380</a><br />
<br />
Which James FUCKING Murphy knew, before he killed with that Starship Troopers reference, only, cunt,<br />
YOU DIDN'T. <br />
And then you'll sell your house. And buy all the same kinda shit that lives in my beautiful new soulzie, John Shepherd's, band room - which I just stood up, walked over to and looked into, beatifically, and yeah, with a cuntily smug smile right there on my face and you know what? <br />
YOU'LL TRY AGAIN.<br />
<br />
This is <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I1wg1DNHbNU">ONCE IN A LIFETIME</a>, Kids. Then, Death, who becomes a close friend, in the end - cause you got so close to him All The Fucking Time by Living Hard - will one day grab you away to nothingness. And then all the cunts left behind will say: "That cunt. That cunty fuckface was awesome. And you'll get the honour of having 'FUCKING' as a middle name. <br />So WATCH THAT SHIT BELOW, DOWN THERE, NOW. And then watch it AGAIN. AND AGAIN. Until you realise why I've said all I've said. Watch it until you realise, perhaps, something I may have missed, some little detail I might have skipped which I then didn't say AND THEN FUCKING MAIL ME ABOUT IT. Because I WANT TO FUCKING KNOW. The mail addy is chadliampolley@gmail.com <br />
Fucken Do It. For fucken reals. Anytime. Cause I want to punch your face about the things I believe that hurt and kill me EVERY DAY. <b><i>And if you do, too, I need you in my life</i>.</b><br />
<br />
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*</div>
<i>[And, yeah, I know I'm wasting tons of my breath, hell, it was bound to happen, these cunts will always be there. They will always exist. They're necessary. <b>Shut the fuck up</b>. And, yeah, I guess I meant both meanings, smartass. And if you feel sad after watching <b>BELOW</b> kill you with sheer supremity, just listen to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coming_on_Strong">Coming On Strong</a> by Hot Chip, because they heal all wounds. All. I swear. It's like angel's piss bathing your wounds. And then go out and fuck yourself.]</i><br />
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<br />SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-66806644994896704412013-04-21T11:11:00.004+02:002013-04-21T11:21:24.176+02:00Wondrous Indeed...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqlJUYrh6cK63GCLD9KlJGJobBSASejXl1kMqWRefIR8HOs1Ar-WEC_FwKNp0cwVNhjDOC8aJ60bKaJ11RmE5qXwd6oscxki2-VoVFIIwsCVuOMQveGrYblQk7ZZwpYugspFqufStnKS4/s1600/TPowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqlJUYrh6cK63GCLD9KlJGJobBSASejXl1kMqWRefIR8HOs1Ar-WEC_FwKNp0cwVNhjDOC8aJ60bKaJ11RmE5qXwd6oscxki2-VoVFIIwsCVuOMQveGrYblQk7ZZwpYugspFqufStnKS4/s400/TPowers.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah, he looks cool, that's right. Yeah, he's 23. That's right.</td></tr>
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<b><b>"What the fuck happened?" "What the...?" "Where the....?" "How the...er... shit.." <br /><br />"Um, HOLY FUCK... guys... guys, come listen to this."</b></b></div>
<b>
</b><br />
I think I thought these particular thoughts because, well, I've heard the majestic fucker's previous album and, well, <b>HOLY SHIT, <u>THIS FUCKEN ALBUM.</u></b><br />
<br />
Holy shit, indeed. <br />
Holy fucken shit. <br />
Holy sweet fucken jesus.<br />
You need to listen to this, friends. And you need your headphones. Or it needs to be LOUD. <br />
<u>That's important. Very Important.</u><br />
And then you should take it to your friend's house and play it LOUD. VERY FUCKEN LOUD. IGNORE HIM, CRANK IT UP. <u>THIS IS IMPORTANT, TOO.</u><br />
<br />
I am supremely glad I just happened to have my headphones on first time this one swung my way. This album is extremely headphone friendly, straight off the bat. The intro track, THROUGH MIND AND BACK... well, you can imagine.. <br />
The sounds... they go floating around... and about... and up and down... AND IT NEEDS TO BE LOUD. INDEED.<br />
<br />
Here's the intro (some kid made the visuals, forgive them): <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vU1640OesI8">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vU1640OesI8</a><br />
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<h2>
<u><br />So, there's the matter of this:</u></h2>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU9hvsahKIk0uEqybVFw4e0GikkENKlQ61K_qvTODvDVDIz6_e1zjStCivi4j73blAe3QqlQyj2RSbzXLxkEzynU3V_XatjqHlCRp8FjWVHCBJjRDILq_gk_Wec0j8nUOD62VYnKGuRPM/s1600/WNDRS_BGHS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU9hvsahKIk0uEqybVFw4e0GikkENKlQ61K_qvTODvDVDIz6_e1zjStCivi4j73blAe3QqlQyj2RSbzXLxkEzynU3V_XatjqHlCRp8FjWVHCBJjRDILq_gk_Wec0j8nUOD62VYnKGuRPM/s400/WNDRS_BGHS.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I am picturising things in my mind-brain: <b>THIS IS Trevor Power's Wondrous Bughouse</b>.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><br />If you, like me, had heard Trevor Powers' first album, <i>The Year 0f Hib3rnation</i>, before you read this then you may understand my explosive reaction once you listen to his holyfuckchrist-this-is-shittingly-good new album. Coming from an album that is, well...<br /><i>...background... you know, kinda ambient, kinda hypnagogic</i> (to coin THAT phrase)<br /><i>... not so much explosive as imploding in on itself, melodies hiding under bedsprings... </i><br />I almost immediately liked the first YL album. It's not explosive music, as stated, but I guess it's not meant to be. This new release literally explodes, all over your ear-holes. And you should take that statement however you will because, yes, it is a marvellous aural orgasm. It's drenched in LSD. From the first intro track, to the delightfully held-back -- and you'll think I'm being a fool -- second track, MUTE, it drips Psych references. </span><br />
<br />
[[And so it begins...<br />
<br />
MUTE:<br />
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<i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: DroidSansRegular, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.765625px;">"Living in a 3-D world,</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: DroidSansRegular, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.765625px;">where the clock is in control.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: DroidSansRegular, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.765625px;">He sits on his throne on top of my wrist and tells me what I know. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: DroidSansRegular, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.765625px;">The devil tries to plague my mind,</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: DroidSansRegular, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.765625px;">but he can't quite get inside."</span></i></div>
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<h3>
Ah. The Devil. As in: "What the devil have you been up to, Mr. Powers?"]]</h3>
The melody and strangely paradoxical manner in which the repetition of MUTE is, somehow, restrained will delight you. It's fucking beautiful. In fact I'm going to listen to it again. And again.<br />
<br />
The third track smacks you across the jaw. It's dripping in psych. It's StrawbzFieldzForevz.<br />
And... fuck... <b>ARE THOSE HORSES IN THE BACKGROUND?</b> <br />
And then it goes on. A maniacal carnival ride through Trevor Power's brainspace.<br />
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<br />
And, after all is done, you'll sit, and think. And perhaps play it again. And then you'll say: "Fuck, I should do acid to this." And you'll try call a mate, or you'll SMS someone for a dealer's number because, SHIT, THIS NEEDS TO HAPPEN -- either way, you'll make plans for a picnic in the Wondr_us Bughous3.<br />
<br />
<i>Quick kids, we still have some few sunny days left. It's time for some day-tripping. For fucken sure.</i><br />
At the end of it all, I have one small thing to say, really:<br />
<b>Thank you, Mr. Powers. Thank you very fucken much, you wonderful man.</b><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><i>"Youth Lagoon is something so personal to me because writing music is how I sort my thoughts, as well as where I transfer my fears..."</i></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWkjQoyTAl_fdZo09SHAftYXXda4pmz72d3qm2T6jnCjG-n1O0rTxcrFioLakPPNQJFnEun3IUzPAkdXcM3OlepsLhmPZLcC2U1te_mWppCcTTFwquDfsQpmdDyD1v3pOnQRS5Evnf8z4/s1600/TpowersLIVE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWkjQoyTAl_fdZo09SHAftYXXda4pmz72d3qm2T6jnCjG-n1O0rTxcrFioLakPPNQJFnEun3IUzPAkdXcM3OlepsLhmPZLcC2U1te_mWppCcTTFwquDfsQpmdDyD1v3pOnQRS5Evnf8z4/s320/TpowersLIVE.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trevor FUCKING Powers. <b>Sexy. And good.</b> And look, below:</td></tr>
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<h2>
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/?4e9ximxmuslgalp" style="text-decoration: underline;">YOU SHOULD PROBABLY DOWNLOAD THIS ALBUM RIGHT FUCKEN NOW.</a><br /><br />THE PASSWORD IS: lagoon</h2>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">"My mental state is usually pretty sporadic...a lot of this record was influenced by a fear of mortality but embracing it at the same time. Realizing that human life is only great because it is temporary. Experimenting with ideas about dimensions. I'm not a gifted speaker, so explaining things is difficult for me. But music always makes sense."</span><br />
Sense indeed. You try make sense of it, friends.<br />
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<br />SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-52277695055262130772013-01-25T09:37:00.001+02:002013-01-25T11:03:04.807+02:00Duckt@ils' The Fl0wer Lane<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2v9ulZhxvYPC0GwJRKaYwNyqL7pLBlTSt4NmcLu72BE-UVY4MbHt2Ho3CIzI9zYnJJ0J6Jr7wjAI9xWVRys-ExgPHoI8ZaYV44tHOByJ2l5RNGGRnLc4jN8rGvXoPJdDqHSpjPlGZFZQ/s1600/TflowLan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2v9ulZhxvYPC0GwJRKaYwNyqL7pLBlTSt4NmcLu72BE-UVY4MbHt2Ho3CIzI9zYnJJ0J6Jr7wjAI9xWVRys-ExgPHoI8ZaYV44tHOByJ2l5RNGGRnLc4jN8rGvXoPJdDqHSpjPlGZFZQ/s320/TflowLan.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I'm scared of this album. Ducky, as I and his close associates call him but Matt M0ndanile to most... well, Ducky is scaring me.<br />
<br />
I've always preferred Be@ch Fossils over Re@l Estate for that laidback non-commital beachy-poppy sound. See, Real Estate have always teetered just on the edge of Easy Listening - just close enough to listen to and not be awful cheesy. <br />
Yes, they're two quite different bands, but I kinda see them in the same light. I feel the same non-commital vibes from them.<br />
<br />
Ducky has always been Matty's - let's just say escape - escape from the Real Estate vibe; it has always been way more experimental, noisier, more lo-fi, drone-y, all sortsa things.<br />
<br />
Listen, my wedding song:<br />
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That is definitely going to open the floor at the reception. Hands down.<br />
The desperation. The fear. The one boy shouting at the walls of his mom's basement, in pain and anguish.<br />
Ducky has always tread beautifully on hundreds of emotions.<br />
Whereas Re@l Estate have always just been... well, chill. Maybe I haven't tried hard enough, but Ducky always just grabbed me way harder.<br />
<br />
He's better. He's the best. And sexy too.</div>
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<br />
Now, the problem is this: Ducktails III: Arcade Dynamics was fucken sweet. Yes, it was. You know it. <br />
That fucken song with Pandy where they kill the vibe? Yeah, THAT one. <br />
<br />
Also Sprinter. ALSO: fucken Porch Projector. Jesus. I could listen to that for hours: almost nothing guitar lines laid with field recordings of fireworks and people cheering and talking and GUD TYMS, D00d.<br />
<br />
So, yeah Ducky III was great BUT:<br />
It was treading a dash too far onto Real Estate territory. And, now, what terrifies me is that this new album isn't just Ducky anymore, it's Ducky and a buncha other bros. He has a band now. It's not just Ducky. Granted, the sound is still mostly there, but...<br />
THERE ARE CHANGES. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.... <br />
[*runs screaaaaaming into the distance*]<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Well, just DL it anyway:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">[PASSWORD IS flowerlane]</span><br />
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<h2>
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/?u3taqv757mm6rum" style="font-size: xx-large;" target="_blank">HERE.</a><br /></h2>
<h3>
*YOU KNOW WHAT? JUST DL his PREVIOUS ALBUM, NOW, <a href="http://www.mediafire.com/?hx6ec3c0wxe63fa" target="_blank">Duckt@ils III: Arc@de Dynamics</a></h3>
<br /><span style="font-size: large;">And then listen to these whilst you wait:</span><br />
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Please excuse the weird vocal sample. I have NO idea who put that st00pid shite there.</div>
This is off Ducktails IIc30 [a cassette tape he made!]<br />
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<br />
This is the song he did with Pandy:<br />
<h2>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">and this is Porch Projector:</span></div>
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SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-29170984886683894572013-01-20T14:14:00.000+02:002013-01-25T10:59:59.419+02:00New. Beach. F0ssils. Holyhells.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJnjitYA4qoUpH2lU9A2oS9U627cZbnipcGI7rMA7m8BHtoEIXYgPxwkzeWrPzH1OslTb240hjRcY91JTtKNHaRuebz-YW2GIOYOmfCVwSSm0B9NjBUmF0rXp3DMVJowGeYiKXfLOPnE4/s1600/BFOSOSOSOSO+LIVE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJnjitYA4qoUpH2lU9A2oS9U627cZbnipcGI7rMA7m8BHtoEIXYgPxwkzeWrPzH1OslTb240hjRcY91JTtKNHaRuebz-YW2GIOYOmfCVwSSm0B9NjBUmF0rXp3DMVJowGeYiKXfLOPnE4/s400/BFOSOSOSOSO+LIVE.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="text-align: start;"><strike>I want write about this album proper. Their first s/t release is still stalwartly in my Top 5 debuts. And it seems like it wants to stay there. At least that's what it keeps telling me. IN MY EARHOLES.</strike></span><br />
<strike><br style="text-align: start;" /></strike>
<span style="text-align: start;">**But, I'm not going to write about it.**<br />IGNORE THAT. JUST READ THE NEXT SENTENCE:<br />I just want you to have it. NOW.<br />This album is fucking rad. It kills. It is the shit. <a href="http://www.mediafire.com/?32f5yf9d4ba0015">Just fucking download it, ok? Ok.</a><br />Password is : beach<br /><br /></span><br />
<span style="text-align: start;"> Here is one of the singles. It kicks the shit.</span><br />
<br style="text-align: start;" />
<a href="https://soundcloud.com/capturedtracks/beach-fossils-careless-1" style="text-align: start;" target="_blank">CARELESS</a><br />
<br style="text-align: start;" />
<span style="text-align: start;">Also, the one bro from The Men produced the album, if that gives you the krills.</span>Find the link BELOW.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-o8OZqglT4T9d7PNToj0XkPx2uGua_lsujc6Gd1r0osthNJA9fLaiY4hDnZySh7DLnvkEaGH4MG-usl9e4NH-ppRsNkPItr7x6xgAST70-8YiqCR2dNM5Wf0uYFYMwwxIC4sc_fXVMdA/s1600/BFosososos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-o8OZqglT4T9d7PNToj0XkPx2uGua_lsujc6Gd1r0osthNJA9fLaiY4hDnZySh7DLnvkEaGH4MG-usl9e4NH-ppRsNkPItr7x6xgAST70-8YiqCR2dNM5Wf0uYFYMwwxIC4sc_fXVMdA/s200/BFosososos.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
PASSWORD IS: beach<br />
<br />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: magenta;"><a href="http://www.mediafire.com/?32f5yf9d4ba0015" target="_blank"><u><strike>//TAKE IT//TAKE IT//TAKE IT//TAKE IT//</strike></u></a></span></h2>
<br />
<br />SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-12208212013336169112013-01-18T12:18:00.000+02:002013-01-18T17:54:53.806+02:00I can feel it in my bones!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib_FAaOernjyNGE-WQiCwTqcq3f6_BWqQerO4OaIUNGVxPkSWD0Ov1GO-ltmskVu5HX1gGLtfFW9YuWvTucggwh9gCM9bMtsZe5F2gvClR_D16giHoYLn0xkQdcviCPp9Y3hQPPtCr-Ls/s1600/Purple-Winter-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="345" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib_FAaOernjyNGE-WQiCwTqcq3f6_BWqQerO4OaIUNGVxPkSWD0Ov1GO-ltmskVu5HX1gGLtfFW9YuWvTucggwh9gCM9bMtsZe5F2gvClR_D16giHoYLn0xkQdcviCPp9Y3hQPPtCr-Ls/s400/Purple-Winter-1.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
Fuck, I love winter. This is what I tell myself. Many people love the sun. It makes them jump up and down and get filled with rapturous and joyous energy. It makes me feel like shit: lazy, crappy, non-committal shite.<br />
I prefer Autumn, and the crunch of leaves; the threat of cold, the coats: the women's fashion. But then again, girls in summer dresses make me... well... VERY EXCITABLE.<br />
<br />
I like the wintry cold, because it's serrated; it hurts, bites, makes me feel more alive. Not a warm puddle on the floor.<br />
But then I remember this Richard Adams quote from his lovely book about all those awesome bunnies, Watership Down:<br />
<h1 id="watch-headline-title" style="border: 0px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19px; margin: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; text-overflow: ellipsis; white-space: nowrap; word-wrap: normal;">
</h1>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">"Many human beings say that they enjoy the winter, but what they really enjoy is feeling proof against it."</span></blockquote>
<br />
<h4>
FUCK IT.</h4>
<h2>
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/?6yj36rp6pvtq38s" target="_blank">HAVE A MIX.</a><br />the pass is: winter<br /><br />And while you wait for that to download, here is Duckt@ils' Porch Pr0jector:</h2>
<h1 id="watch-headline-title" style="border: 0px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 19px; margin: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; text-overflow: ellipsis; white-space: nowrap; word-wrap: normal;">
</h1>
<h1 id="watch-headline-title" style="border: 0px; font-size: 19px; margin: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; text-overflow: ellipsis; word-wrap: normal;">
<br /><div style="text-align: center;">
[i don't have to say anything about it]</div>
</h1>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<h4>
OH, HERE'S THE TRACKLISTING, IF YOU CARE:</h4>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Ba4o0K5yEnsEdU3vaUT4Q98tvXGOKZo7Y4t0XCqGrNvcBjGiVPA-aJE1saVJv-RnHMnuKWM4qcovZdb3z4J7igXblQCvO-nTohaoto_55HhbpfXZOIs2cAbKxjzHtOHw-SHH17wdZbc/s1600/A+Winter's+Tale.jpg.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Ba4o0K5yEnsEdU3vaUT4Q98tvXGOKZo7Y4t0XCqGrNvcBjGiVPA-aJE1saVJv-RnHMnuKWM4qcovZdb3z4J7igXblQCvO-nTohaoto_55HhbpfXZOIs2cAbKxjzHtOHw-SHH17wdZbc/s400/A+Winter's+Tale.jpg.png" width="372" /></a></div>
<h3>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></h3>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-11794274693789111692013-01-18T08:53:00.001+02:002013-01-18T08:53:29.723+02:00Tw1n Steps<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBY1UFlvezmJvlPrBYQRY43cXS_jIPMRsz1XWY-B6z2ywiSgpkSGveoN7whPSJueLVasLNW3N-Z3bwTAWfTxrjdHazSy8vFL1A7zwv8EBAaBcZnqnpYvqqdIsz4Nt_BO6hcIlqV1BwrWtA/s1600/twinstepsroof_4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBY1UFlvezmJvlPrBYQRY43cXS_jIPMRsz1XWY-B6z2ywiSgpkSGveoN7whPSJueLVasLNW3N-Z3bwTAWfTxrjdHazSy8vFL1A7zwv8EBAaBcZnqnpYvqqdIsz4Nt_BO6hcIlqV1BwrWtA/s400/twinstepsroof_4.jpg" width="400" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="text-align: start;">Twin Steps are from Oakland, Ca. and they are indubitably awesome. Undoubtedly. Fucken adjectives. They play a beautiful noisy blend of 60s Soul/Motown-Throwback blended with a fucken shitey noisy awesome-y Garage-Noise sound. It makes me sad I'm not in the band with them. Fucken cunts.</span><br style="text-align: start;" /><br style="text-align: start;" /><span style="text-align: start;">Here, listen to this:</span><br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/vKLSRnnm8l4?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><br /><br /><br style="text-align: start;" /><br style="text-align: start;" /><span style="text-align: start;">And then, watch them look awesome and talk about stuff.</span><br style="text-align: start;" /><span style="text-align: start;">I'm lazy, I could write more about them, but just judge for yourself, dick-faces. :D</span><br style="text-align: start;" /><br /><br /></div>
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<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-21026067476297422272013-01-10T19:09:00.003+02:002013-01-18T18:45:46.753+02:00The Descendants...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://static.hypable.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/20111116-descendants.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="202" src="http://static.hypable.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/20111116-descendants.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<b>Chad Liam Polley</b>: "The Descendants. ..."<br />
<br />
<b>Vince</b>: <br />
yah<br />
dont know if ive heard them<br />
but ive seen the name around<br />
oh<br />
a film it is i see<br />
<br />
<b>C:</b><br />
Probably s bsnd naame...<br />
hahah<br />
I feel so depressed.<br />
Jesus.<br />
<br />
<b>H: </b><br />
what was it about?<br />
<br />
<b>C: </b><br />
A guy losing his wife and connecting with his kids set in Hawaii.<br />
<br />
<b>H:</b><br />
ooooh<br />
oh<br />
<br />
<b>C:</b><br />
The setting is so important.<br />
<br />
<b>H:</b><br />
i've seen that!<br />
and he finds out from their friends that the wife cheated<br />
<br />
<b>C:</b><br />
The look and feel of the thing hit me so hard. Feels like Durban.<br />
<br />
<b>V:</b><br />
that film?<br />
Yeah.<br />
<br />
<b>H:</b><br />
or she had cancer too?<br />
she died?<br />
<br />
<b>C:</b><br />
She banged her head being reckless<br />
<br />
<b>H:</b><br />
im so bad a t films<br />
<br />
<b>C:</b><br />
It made me feel vicariously depressed.<br />
And, strangely, it made me really want to be a dad.<br />
What an effecting movie.<br />
<br />
<b>H:</b><br />
i remember being sad about it too<br />
i can't watch people die in filoms<br />
anymore<br />
<br />
<b>C:</b><br />
Why?<br />
<br />
<b>V:</b><br />
dunno<br />
i get very very scared<br />
<br />
<b>C:</b><br />
...<br />
<br />
<b>V:</b><br />
even thjough i think bout dying all the time<br />
still can't watch it<br />
just weird<br />
<br />
<b>C:</b><br />
Makes a solis kinda sebse.<br />
typing whilst lying down has made me sound like I have a blocked nose.<br />
<br />
<b>H:</b><br />
hahahah<br />
<br />
<b>C:</b><br />
I'm so tired now, but I don't want to sleep<br />
I'm going to have depressed dreams.<br />
And the look and feel of that movie...<br />
It reminds me of...<br />
something I wish I had...<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>V:</b><br />
yeah it is lat there<br />
wnting to be a dad<br />
i've not felt that yet<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>C:</b><br />
And just the washed out look of the thing...<br />
Shit. I haven't been this effected by a film in longtimes.<br />
<br />
<b>H:</b><br />
you need to put somthing in your brain to get happy<br />
<br />
<b>C:</b><br />
I just want to listen to Washed Out. It's that bad...<br />
hahahah<br />
Everything is a reminder.<br />
<br />
<b>V:</b><br />
what is washed out<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>C:</b><br />
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<br />
<br />
<b>C: </b><br />
But it isn't going to help, I know.<br />
The look of that film reminds me of every holiday in Durban I've ever had.<br />
<br />
<b>H:</b><br />
that song just makes me ore sad<br />
<br />
<b>C:</b><br />
Exactly.<br />
<br />
<b>V:</b><br />
:/ [saddish smiley]<br />
<br />
<b>C:</b><br />
I need to stop listening to Chillwave.<br />
It's ruining my life.<br />
<br />
<b>V:</b><br />
what<br />
hahahaha<br />
that's insane<br />
<br />
<b>C:</b><br />
It's half true.<br />
<br />
<b>V:</b><br />
it makes you happy<br />
<br />
<b>C:</b><br />
I am in SUCH a weird mood right now.<br />
But I have had thought of deleting all my chillwave before<br />
because I feel it trickles into your life.<br />
<br />
<b>V:</b><br />
it does<br />
watch you listen to<br />
what*<br />
<br />
<b>C:</b><br />
I thought this would help: silly me.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://1.gvt0.com/vi/rTL6J_7Km4U/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rTL6J_7Km4U&fs=1&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rTL6J_7Km4U&fs=1&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>V:</b><br />
th original will help<br />
it's more upbeat<br />
<br />
<b>C:</b><br />
Deerhunter...<br />
Cover Me Slowly...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<br />
<br />
Ah...<br />
Soothing..<br />
Much. Better.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>V:</b><br />
good<br />
<br />
<b>C: </b><br />
But, no, really, those opening swoops...<br />
Jesus.<br />
I love this band.<br />
Some bands can save lives.<br />
<br />
<b>V:</b><br />
they can<br />
<br />
<b>C: </b><br />
Spring Reverb.<br />
I need to fall in love with music all over again.<br />
I feel like I have fallen out of love or we are fighting or something.<br />
<br />
<b>V: </b><br />
hmmm<br />
difficult<br />
you cant go to more good shows<br />
you would love it then<br />
or listen to different msuic<br />
classical music has given me a whole new taste<br />
and new ideas<br />
seeing people perform that stuff<br />
it affects me different than normal band music<br />
band music cant match it<br />
<br />
<b>C:</b><br />
<br />
:'(<br />
:)<br />
I feel like I've been avoiding music, in case it hurts me: listening to hazy chilly stuff.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>V:</b><br />
hmmmm<br />
it cant hurt you<br />
<br />
<b>C:</b><br />
Yes it can!!<br />
Look:<br />
[[ JOHN: Will attach a piece of writing ]]<br />
**The cold is serrated but the cardoor remains open; he slumps over the dashboard, the minute bits of wind tickling his reddish-brown hair, wafting it about, in trickles. The dash is cool on his skin and the wintry cold is seeping from all other fronts - his bones feel it, his scars feel it; they are the coldest. He looks at one of his hands - the fresh cuts and grazes - and he smiles at it, as if it knew, as if it has known all this time.<br />
<br />
The sun is obscured by cloud above him, shattered shafts of sunlight filter through, feebly, silhouetting a steeple. The bells aren't ringing.<br />
If he listens carefully, concentrates, he can make them appear, in his mind:<br />
They sound out, ringing across the cavernous space between his ears. He concentrates harder, and now, as he lies back in the seat, arms folded behind it, they are ringing across the trees, filtering through the leaves, floating over the telephone wires. His eyes begin to burn fiercely and now the sound is liquid, golden-bronze, palpable, charred by green rust. It buffets birds off their perches who squawk, graciously, as it flows under and around and above them; but never through. He relaxes and the wind depletes it, cuts it into smaller and smaller ribbons; bites into it with insufferable cold, sharding it. And just as it once was there, now it is gone.<br />
<br />
He lights a cigarette as he feels the passing tingle in his hands, then feels them shake uncontrollably. It's been like this for weeks, he says. He shivers, briefly, lets out a yawn and waits, flicking ash every now and then onto the pavement. When the cigarette is done he lights another one, the smoke curling around his face, obscuring the dash of freckles that meant he used to like the sun once and that it liked him back. He blows warmly on the window and makes a mark , with the condensation, and the shardy sun glows on it, slowly, so that it sparkles, glinting with icy fire - he smiles at it as he switches the stereo on and the wind whips some of the leaves around as a shimmering cyan liquid sound seeps from the car, like a fog - like a soft benevolent lava - wrapping and writhing itself around objects in it's path, strangling them with joy; it is heavier- almost entirely unlike the golden-bronze of the bells - flecked with orange and pink and and lime green flourescence.<br />
Some time passes, pedestrian feet flick leaves up into smudgy ballerina-like twirls or crunch down hard upon them. After some time Paul switches off the stereo, scrambles to his feet, grabs his backpack and closes the door, locking it. He breathes deep, inhaling the wintry warmth and then makes his way swiftly towards the steeple - it's pull seems hard to fight; as he walks he waves his hand about and around, clearing a path through the leftover cyan, breezing it out and away, to nothing. The sun begins to dissipate out and away and clouds build to form a blanket sky.**<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>C:</b><br />
I can see patterns.<br />
<br />
<b>V:</b><br />
music doesnt hurt them<br />
it soundtracks it all<br />
but it isnt the thing that hurts<br />
<br />
<b>C:</b><br />
It's a symptom.<br />
<br />
"People worry about kids playing with guns, and teenagers watching violent videos; we are scared that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands--literally thousands--of songs about broken hearts and rejection and pain and misery and loss. The unhappiest people I know, romantically speaking, are the ones who like pop music the most; and I don't know whether pop music has caused this unhappiness, but I do know that they've been listening to the sad songs longer than they've been living the unhappy lives."<br />
<br />
<b>V:</b><br />
that is true<br />
but it is the brains fult not the music<br />
havign a creative brain<br />
not being happy come s with that<br />
<br />
<b>C:</b><br />
I hate my brain.<br />
...Arg... I think I am going mental.<br />
<br />
<b>V: </b><br />
last night i tried to switch it off with half a bottle of vodka in half an hour<br />
<br />
<b>C:</b><br />
I know!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<h2>
<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: magenta;"><a href="http://www.mediafire.com/?mcd5hqwuezqlsa0" target="_blank">[[HERE IS MY SUPER LOSER MIX, IT SAVED MY LIFE]]</a></span>**THE PASSWORD FOR THE RAR IS wizard</span></span></h2>
<br />SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-86125170053354818422012-12-31T11:07:00.001+02:002013-01-18T18:46:21.141+02:00BEYOND THE WIZARD'S SLEEVE...is one of the greatest band names EVER. EVER EVER.<br />
<br />
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<br />
So... I haven't really slept much this evening. I snoozed a little but, mostly, I spent the evening alternately writing and jerking off.<br />
I think I've exhausted the seemingly inexhaustible supply of fetishes listed on TubeKitty - I mean, there's only so much more and more bizarre and, somehow enticing, your searches can become before the chance of a hit obviously, and unfortunately lessen. <br />
I mean, searching "Midget Amputee Anal Watersports" is guaranteed to not get you a hit.<br />
<br />
<b>But all that is mostly besides the point.</b><br />
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<br />
<br />
<br />
I have a little rockenroll tale to weave before your eyes. I'll try to keep it brief and concise, but the chances of that are very slim as to be practically non-existent. I can only promise to not lie. I'll presume to myself that I only speak the truth in the following paragraphs - Like James Murphy, who only cuts like a knife. I'm just going to Lester BANG this shit out.. like a dribble.. just a fucken WRITE. Faces of Coltrane SHIT.<br />
You see, the thing is, for the past year and a half so me and music have been fighting; I think we've been mostly avoiding eachother so that we don't hurt eachothers feelings. This makes alot of sense considering my recent penchant for the washed out, the overly reverby, the mostly non-comittal sounds that I have been absorbing - it started unconsciously but, at some point, I realised something was very very wrong.<br />
Now, this may seem absurd to you. A rather overdramatic statement, perhaps. But, since you are reading a music blog, I can mayhaps assume you are as much of a music obsessive as I am: once you have noted this characteristic it doesn't seem like a silliness at all. We all know how effecting music can be. It can hurt. It can change and transform you. It is fucken magick, and powerful magick at that. And you are a wizard, of course. You know how to wield this power, and I don't have to say much more than that, do I? <br />
No. <br />
Fuck You, you fucken wizard.<br />
<br />
You see, I didn't want to feel. I really didn't. There was some dire avoidance. And this rode over into other sectors of my life; bleeding into things with a slow insidious sickness - don't get me wrong. I love shoegaze. I love nu-gaze. I love SHOEHAZE. I love the non-committal: hazyness is fucken awesome. <br />
But not ALL the TIME. It starts to do things. :O<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
BUT POINT.<br />
Essentially this little tale comes to head this past weekend which, I can unequivocally state was one of the best I have EVER, EVER had. It really was. I still feel a warm transformative white fiery glow burst from my chest region. No lies.<br />
<br />
<br />
I was tired. Tired of HAZE. Tired of BEATS. TIRED OF CARING ABOUT ALL OF YOU.<br />
<br />
So, for my DJ set at Kitchener's this Saturday past I sat and meticulously crafted a rather torrid, confrontational, obnoxious noise-based set. I wanted to kill. I wanted to walk up to music and strangle it and shout: <br />
"FUCK YOU, CUNT. LET'S JUST FUCKEN HURT EACHOTHER AGAIN, OK? OK."<br />
<br />
I thought this set would be painful, in the wrong sense, for people. I thought, I really truly believed, it was just a mite bit too much: people would run in utter terror and fear back to the bar, at a slow walk, a small patronising shake of the head, murmuring: "what the fuck".<br />
<br />
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I didn't succeed, to my intense surprise. I mean, people danced. And I killed myself, Ishouted out choruses; I spazzed myself the fuck out. I, to sound a touch silly, FELT IT. I fucken did. And, apparently, so did a whole bunch of others.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Now, of course, I need not mention the obvious ones, the ones from our personal Post-Secret Legendarium, the fucken heroes that decided they'd pop through. The ones with true magic bursting from the fingertips and pouring from the mouths like liquid gold: the ones for whom music truly HURTS. It PAINS them.<br />
But good PAINS. PURE HEART.<br />
I needn't mention them, but I think I very well shall. They are great, truly great human beings.<br />
There is Rob Cass for whom music is a battle. We swear at eachother in sheer wonderment, cursing and gesticulating wildly, we look like we're fighting eachother when we do our little bursts.<br />
There is Kyle Wallace. God. That boy. What a fucker, eh? And so fucken young [quote Losing My Edge under your breath why don't ya?]. How does he have such grand taste. Young little cocksucker.<br />
There's Colleen Balchin. <br />
*She is the most beautiful GURL in the whole of Joburg.*<br />
She makes dresses seem like some bizarre transformative uniform of utter and disastrous power. And she can DANCE. FOR HOURS. <br />
REALLY. REALLY REALLY, LIKE FOR REALZ. And SEX. AND MARRYING RIAAN.<br />
There's Iain Cluett, that fucken faggot. And, yes, if you're in and about and out in the, dare I use the word, motherfucken "scene", your girlfriend has undoubtedly fallen in love with him. Who wouldn't?<br />
<br />
There is the Jewish Vampire, Warren Cohen, 138 yrs old, give or take; we're not sure and neither is he. I suspect he was drunk as fuck when he was turned, had blacked out, and woke up undead. He hasn't expounded on how this felt. Frankly I couldn't care. His heroin chiclessness is striking and he kills people with his Anti-Folk guitar. AMPERSAND. LOOK IT UP, CUNT. <br />
<br />
OR, HERE:<br />
<br />
<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/BXZpNuYKCWY?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
Dead.<br />
<br />
<br />
And, last, but so not even close to least, if we were grading, is Riaan motherfucken Botha; He knows too much, Bonapartie. Too much. It's absurd. He'll make a link from something you like and rant off 5 acts you should, and MUST, be listening to. What a cunt. I don't understand how he fits it all up there?<br />
<br />
All you others know just exactly who you are. But my fingers got tired.<br />
*lights fag, sips mampoer*<br />
<br />
Shit.<br />
So... there was them, they came, they watched in awe [sick sic] and pure joyous enrapturation or something of that notionness as I got away with THESE:<br />
<br />
LIARS and <br />
EVANGELICALS and <br />
COLD CAVE and <br />
EAT SKULL and<br />
JAPANTHER and<br />
noise noise noise. FUCK OFF noise. FUCKEN <3 br="br" hz="hz" noiz.="noiz."><br /><!--3--><!--3--><!--3--><!--3--><!--3--><!--3--><!--3--><!--3--><!--3--></3><br />
I thought all the noise/lo-fi/garage kids had died out in the Electro-Jock massacre of 2k6.<br />
No, they were waiting, apparently.<br />
<br />
And, as I poured out my heart, played songs that I had KNOWN before just would KILL the FLOOR and make me ingloriously sad; and as I smoked and steamed and downed beers and thrashed and pained and raised my hands heavenly for THAT chorus, and pushed some buttons here and there which is, ask anyone, SO FUCKEN DIFFICULT, I, of course, felt validated. I was right. About it all. I had forgotten how to make Magick Spells. I had forgotten how to be effective. God, I even 'finished' with JPNDRDS' The Boys Are Leaving Town which, I thought, was a rather magnificent song to end with, of course. Haha. Hoho. Sly musical thingymadoodles.<br />
I ended with an Addendum. A secret track by noise-pop-dancey as fucken hell Think About Life's secret track form their S/T which BEGS you to:<br />
"CLOSE YOUR EYES." It's fucken SCREAMY AND SHOUTY AND FUCK OFF AND DIE AND DEAD DEATH AND... strangely, so full of fucken life I can't believe it.<br />
<br />
I was happy, truly happy, in that moment. My joy washed ridiculously around after that as I spilt burnt ochres and swished around bitter oranges and fiery maroons and shit in my wake, in front of me, behind, above, on people's fucken faces: I musta looked like a beatific retard.<br />
I would proclaim, when introducing one of my Wizard's, THIS GUY! GREAT! AMAZING! to anyone within hailing distance. And, I meant it. I did.<br />
<br />
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<br />
Music and me have reconciled, we can play again now.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">DL THE SET BELOW.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">*******THE PASSWORD is:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">wizard</span><br />
<br />
<br />
###################################3<br />
<h2>
<span style="color: red; font-size: large;">!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br /><a href="http://www.mediafire.com/?mcd5hqwuezqlsa0" target="_blank">HERE'S THE SET.</a></span></h2>
<h2>
<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/?mcd5hqwuezqlsa0"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;">HERE'S THE SET.</span><span style="color: red;">HERE'S THE SET.</span><span style="color: red;">HERE'S THE SET.</span><span style="color: red;">HERE'S THE SET.</span><span style="color: red;">HERE'S THE SET.</span><span style="color: red;">HERE'S THE SET.</span><span style="color: red;">HERE'S THE SET.</span><span style="color: red;">HERE'S THE SET.</span><span style="color: red;">HERE'S THE SET.</span><span style="color: red;">HERE'S THE SET.</span><span style="color: red;">HERE'S THE SET.</span><span style="color: red;">HERE'S THE SET.</span></span></a></h2>
######################################33<br />
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<!--3-->SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-52419934974336742392012-10-11T09:42:00.001+02:002012-10-11T12:22:55.990+02:00YO! Grapes, MuthaFucka.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<br />
Well. What the fuck else is there to say about this splendiferous side-project from Mr. Craig Durrant of Tutus' fame?<br />
The smashing thing here is that there is no riding on coat-tails or bandwagonism on his part; he hasn't hitched his trailer to his former companions' cars, getting dragged along in their dust. This very much is his own project, isn't it?<br />
Ok, you moan, and you'll see: The new track, I Need A Lift has some ridonkulous cowbells during it's intro. I guess you can't escape your past, can you? But, upon further perusal, there's a delight and splendour as I awaken to the realisation that it's merely a recapitulation of dance-punk as a whole, quite-removed from the self-proclaimed 'kwela-punk' of his compatriates' offerings. <br />
More Tom Vek than Indie, more plonks and squelches and synth-splurges than angular guitar riffing, more genteel Kings of Convenience influence: Think Whitest Boy Alive - their side-project than, well, something other than that, more joy and delight in the small things than overworking of structures. It's simple, joyful, fun music done for that sake. It's delightful to see this man grow and grow and grow from the compost-heap that is the Joburg rockenroll scene into well, something cheesy, like a sunflower or something.<br />
<br />
Here is the track to listen to whilst reading my unprofessional interview:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://soundcloud.com/yo-grapes/i-need-a-lift"><span style="font-size: large;">Yo Grapes - I Need A Lift on Soundcloud</span></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="gmail_quote" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">
<div class="im" style="color: #500050;">
<blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 0.8ex; padding-left: 1ex;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">SB: Hi Craig, How are you?</span></b></blockquote>
<br /></div>
<div>
Yo Grapes: Very fine thanks and you.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="im" style="color: #500050;">
<blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 0.8ex; padding-left: 1ex;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Since it's inception [which was when?]... </span></b></blockquote>
<blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 0.8ex; padding-left: 1ex;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ok, so since it's inception, what has been the most revelatory thing about working with yourself?</span></b></blockquote>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
I made one or two songs in 2010, but made most of my songs in 2011 and 2012. I don't rate myself as a technically good musician, so every time I make a song - it's me trying something new. I mix and master all the stuff on my own then just chuck it out there and if people dig it then awesome.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="im" style="color: #500050;">
<blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 0.8ex; padding-left: 1ex;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Fuck, we hate to do this, but, well, we as listeners see our own shit in your musical palette;
what kinda stuff you been listening to of late? I mean, what drove your last piece, I Need A Lift?
What was gaining major rotation whilst you were crafting that guy?</span></b></blockquote>
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
I've been listening to a lot of nu-disco and indie-dance in the last few weeks. Mostly stuff like Peter & the Magician, Cassian, Pnau, Classixx and Gigamesh. With 'I Need A Lift' I tried to make something that would be cool to hear on a dance floor - something remixable too. I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out.</div>
<div class="im" style="color: #500050;">
<blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 0.8ex; padding-left: 1ex;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I like the simplicity and, well, haha, good-naturedness, of your lyricism, do you see the world
as a giant fucken cupcake? We've heard you only see in pastel colours? Is this a gift?</span></b></blockquote>
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
Haha, I have tried to write serious songs but I just can't take it seriously - I end up reading the lyrics back to myself and cringing. So I try to keep it sweet and true.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="im" style="color: #500050;">
<blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 0.8ex; padding-left: 1ex;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jocularity aside, it's great to see a new musician working solo in the electronic field.
Have you gotten any inspiration from artists working 'along-side' yourself?</span></b></blockquote>
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
I am loving stuff like Vampire9000, Matthew Mole and Christian Tiger School at the moment.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="im" style="color: #500050;">
<blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 0.8ex; padding-left: 1ex;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Electronic-vibez of this nature are continuing to become more and more of a vogue
in JHB and SA in general, and less of a underground, background thing, in terms of a more,
shit, better word, fuckit, 'indie' kinda thang: do you see a scene building itself up around this?
Will it fizzle out?</span></b></blockquote>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
I think it's pretty exciting, there's a new wave a bands and electronic artists - maybe not as many bands as there were when D&TT first started but still there's new stuff happening all the time which is great. I think it will always exist - bands will always form and then break up. But I just hope that the guys doing awesome things will not give up soon. We saw cool bands like Eat This, Horse and New Loud Rockets disappear and it's a damn shame that for many bands, the emotional rollercoaster that is the SA music industry is just not worth it.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="im" style="color: #500050;">
<blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 0.8ex; padding-left: 1ex;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I saw you last I was struck by the intensity of joy on your face. Is it a terror being onstage?
Did you have doubts as to whether you could perform this stuff live?</span></b></blockquote>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
I like to think that when I play live it's more about the songs and less about me being an outrageous performer. That's my aim anyways, I want people to dance and sing along, thats cool too.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="im" style="color: #500050;">
<blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 0.8ex; padding-left: 1ex;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I wish I was doing this with a tape recorder and not via fucken e-mail. </span><br style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;" /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ok, for tech geeks: What gear do you use? What do you craft your electronic-vibez on?</span></b></blockquote>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
I use a Telecaster, Fender deluxe reverb, a Novation Launchpad that triggers samples from Ableton Live. I used to use a Roland spd-s live too but it was unnecessary - the launchpad is a really sick little gadget that can do pretty much anything.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="im" style="color: #500050;">
<blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 0.8ex; padding-left: 1ex;">
<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ok, tough question, for all the gurls out there: What are your all-time Top 5 debut albums?</span></b></blockquote>
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in no particular order:</div>
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1. Silent Alarm - Bloc Party</div>
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2. Guns Babes and Lemonade - Muscles</div>
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3. Manners - Passion Pit</div>
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4. Dreams - Whitest Boy Alive</div>
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5. Bright Like Neon Love - Cut Copy<br />
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<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Also: More cowbell?</span></b></blockquote>
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there can never be enough cowbell. ever.<br />
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<b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Thanks, Craig. Have a lovely day. Hugs 'n shit.</span></b></blockquote>
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<br />SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-34855697018958447102012-10-11T07:42:00.001+02:002012-10-11T07:42:14.695+02:00New Duckt@ils Song...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqUiOrU2Dxk_GrJrnnPH3KNF6W6AJ0zGPSnTHCI9LrUjKjpwj_Vht7rap9rsFymjoTyADGnoQF-BjofmJPa4cmE47nsMYVQV3K4-yDLXPQf6u5DT9PxifKyHapggA7akR3kRdRiu0fF6Q/s1600/duckynewsong.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqUiOrU2Dxk_GrJrnnPH3KNF6W6AJ0zGPSnTHCI9LrUjKjpwj_Vht7rap9rsFymjoTyADGnoQF-BjofmJPa4cmE47nsMYVQV3K4-yDLXPQf6u5DT9PxifKyHapggA7akR3kRdRiu0fF6Q/s1600/duckynewsong.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /><br />Ducky has a new song for a nwe album... and it starts with this plonky bite of some kinda cheesy lounge-y synthy organ (without the swirl that you'd associate with previous Ducky work) before jolting you back into awareness with Ducky's natural sound. Well, at least as far as his delightful last album. But there's more. The guitar sound is different here somehow. It's tighter and coarser, sonically and structurally. I kinda miss the old Ducky who swirls and scopes and lo-fis EVERYTHING out into a distorted nuclear fallout-beach coated with kids and pizza and spectral mutants.<br />However, this song is delightful, I can't deny it.<br />However, Ducky now has a full-time band, so I almost can't refer to HIM anymore as DUCKY. Which kinda grates.<br />However, now that Ducky isn't just Ducky anymore, how much creative control has he won or lost?<br /><br />Just listen to this fucken song and not worry about my awkward ramblings [it's early]:<br /><br /><a href="http://soundcloud.com/dominorecordco/ducktails-the-flower-lane">http://soundcloud.com/dominorecordco/ducktails-the-flower-lane</a>
SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-30364329371832313092012-06-15T17:49:00.000+02:002012-06-15T18:01:13.516+02:00Slow M@gic's Hipster-Chill. It's called fucken Triangle. OBVS.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.kudosrecords.co.uk/images/hires_products/km007cd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.kudosrecords.co.uk/images/hires_products/km007cd.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This is it. My new favourite. It may even surpass Pur3 X as my favourite thing to listen to almost ever. I mean, just look at the fucken album cover. Those are on the fucken beach and they have SPACE shining through them! FUCK.<br />Gushy schoolgurl vernack aside...<br /><br /> This is a chill wet dream. It's upbeat as all hell while still maintaining that constant and disturbingly comfortable hazy lo-fi wonderfulness that I've come to love. Doef Doef that kills. <3 Hz.<br />
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I am in love with this album and I'm still only halfway through. Holy fucken shitballs. I want to cry.<br />
Gush. Gush. Gush. I couldn't help it.<br />
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<a href="http://depositfiles.com/files/glm0thuy9" target="_blank">TAKE IT, BEFORE I SHOOT YOU IN THE FACE.</a></h2>SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-85391095559876307272012-06-08T17:42:00.001+02:002012-06-08T17:42:41.473+02:00New H0t Ch1ps!!!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
s<img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit9yRNGWQ3cLYnTFVMwucMlVgS-noKUWKjQ3GxQdIzbsvEV3W2EPPLRCXE4moTn3MV63BYvSzCUwf4Nl3zZ3zcWIgRnhYB_pM6fQNJL3ZuoUJ-Jrz0wTNAgTwnWjlQBWGwtdVZ31-Ye7w/s320/HCIOH.jpg" width="320" /><br /><br /></div>
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Hey y'all. Nu H0t Ch1ps has landed. I've always maintained that H0t Ch1p can heal all wounds... and then LCD can re-open them again. I truly believe this. Unfortunately their last release was a let down, for me. Let's hope this one can live up to the grandeur or tracks like Baby Said, Playboy, Boy From School, the obvious Over and Over, Made In The Dark, etc. I could go on. We all know how FUCKING SWEET this band is. Let's hope the album lives up.<br /><br />I ain't listened to it yet. Will report back.<br /></div>
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<a href="http://rapidgator.net/file/16008770/HCIOH.rar.html" target="_blank">TAKE IT, BITCHES, LIKE A PUERTO RICAN SHEMALE.</a></h2>
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</div>SAD BIRTHDAYShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09340326509339456944noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7967259994789011990.post-72292400513421188342012-04-26T08:35:00.001+02:002012-04-26T08:35:11.831+02:00greenisforturbo - Sat Down Beside Me feat. Tape Hiss and Sparkle<iframe frameborder="no" height="166" scrolling="no" src="http://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F44208598&show_artwork=true" width="100%"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com