
We're on the market. I'll try not to winge as much as Jay did. I'll try.
The Nice Boys are the new band from Terry Six, the last surviving member of the Exploding Hearts, and former members of the Riffs. I've been listening to it all weekend and I'm getting carpal tunnel in my toes from the constant tapping.
Some fella has started a pretty cool REM blog. His plan is to open up a discussion/interpretation about every single song in the REM catalog. Some of it is pretty insightful, and all of it made me want to dig the albums out and give them a fresh listen. He also is a big fan and supporter of the oft-maligned 'later' years, so its nice to get his take on some of the more current material that most are less familiar with.

Interview number two, from The Commercial Appeal. We got the cover of Playbook, the paper's weekend insert! And a quote from Craig Brewer (Hustle & Flow, Black Snake Moan).

Nothing makes us faded rock guys think the Big Thoughts like giving interviews.
Paul Westerberg's wife, Laurie Lindeen, has written a book about life in a rock and roll band during the late eighties and early nineties. The publisher says it best:
Fellas, it's looking like a good weekend to catch a movie. I'm sure you recall my childlike enthusiasm for Shaun Of The Dead a few months back? Allegedly, more of the same. (In a good way.) Hot Fuzz is a loving tribute to all the mindless buddy cop movies from the last 30+ years.
Some geeks who know more about music than Greek mythology have started the Pandora music service. It breaks down the essential characteristics of a song or artist into what they call genes and plays you songs with matching traits. You put in an artist you like to create a station, then give their song suggestions thumbs up or down for how well they match your taste. I issued it some major challenges yesterday, creating stations for Smoking Popes, Tom Waits, Anthony & the J.s and a "Sufjan Costello" station (your can use multiple artists for it to consider). On the up side, they served up some stuff I'd have been very unlikely to find through other sources, sometimes a single track from an artist you wouldn't associate with the musical type you selected. On the down side, they must have a lot of categorizing still to do, the play lists tended to be very repetitive. Also on the down side, if the service's name bears out, the product will unleash all manner of suffering and misery into the world. Probably worth it though, if the music is strong enough. www.pandora.com Joe: They're hiring! However, there's this deflating statement in the job description: "No musical experience necessary." Also, under job requirements: "White fur coat." Doh!
Jay mentioned at one point that Weezer's 'Pinkerton' "sounds like a nervous breakdown set to music." This was mentioned in the context of Big Star's "Third / Sister Lovers" album, which is also testament to decomposition. Going through my own steady decline, I thought I should add 'Empty Glass' by Pete Townshend. Feel the Pain.



She said, "Where ya been?" I said, "No place special."
She said, "You look different." I said, "Well, not quite."
She said, "You been gone." I said, "That's only natural."
She said, "You gonna stay?" I said, "If you want me to, Yes."
I think I mentioned at one point that I applied for a job at the RnR Hall of Fame. I knew I wouldn't get it (it was a VP Position), but I thought what they hell. I called their HR to try and talk to someone with the hopes that they would have something I was actually qualified for, and long story short, they sent my number to the current VP of Education there. Turns out it's Warren Zanes of the Del Fuegos, brother of kid rock sensation Dan Zanes. He left a message on my answering machine listing all the reasons I wasn't qualified for the job. It was pretty funny.
First official image of Iron Man, presumably early in the movie when he's escaping the prison camp. Pretty damn true to the original, I might add.
So, Lurker and I caught Grindhouse last night. Supposedly, Rodriguez and Tarantino came up with the concept together at Tarantino's house - as in, in the same room at the same time. Having watched the film, I'm not sure; somehow, Rodriguez nailed the B-movie tone completely. Tarantino whiffed it.
Rutgers player: "We'd just like to express our great hurt."
Alright you musical heavyweights, construct your own dreamteam garage band. Living artists only, don't try some Morrison-Hendrix-Moon combo, that won't fly. I know this is a total dweeb question, but you know you're sitting there thinking up a total dweeb answer, so it's cool.
It was a bizarre accident. It all happened so quickly and then, when the tragic ending was utterly unavoidable, when the cruel dance of fate had been set inexorably into motion, the world slowed to a slideshow to impress each passing image on my mind, images that torture me still... It was a chilly Friday night in Memphis. I decided to move my TV to a shelf unit. It seemed like a good idea at the time. But when situated, the back of the TV pressed uncomfortably against the back panel of the shelf, so it wasn't sitting quite securely. (Cue the ominous minor chord in the background.) I decided that the back of the shelf was expendable and started carefully prying out the staples that held it on. All around the edges I went, removing staples, while the night held its breath, watching how ignorantly I fumbled toward my heartbreaking destiny. When all the staples had been removed around the edges, I gave the back panel a pull to pry it away from the shelf, but a devious row of staples running across the middle held it on, jerking the panel out of my grip and slingshotting it back against the back of the television, sitting, you'll remember, insecurely on the shelf. From my vantage point behind the shelf unit, I heard the slap of the panel against the TV and around the side I could see the TV tip forward and dive screen-first into the hardwood floor. I could only watch. And that was it, it was busted. Shattered in the prime of its life. It shook the house and my weekend. After intervals of profanity and unsuccessful attempts at resuscitation, I carried its lifeless body to the street. When I awoke the next morning, it was gone and now only the scars remain.
I sold some motorcycle parts late last week and spent all the money on music. Ted Leo and the Pharmacist's 'Living With the Living' is powerpop bliss. A couple of distractions, but there are a few songs that are just brilliant - "Colleen" and "La Costa Brava" stand out immediately. The guy's obviously been listening to the same music we have. You know where...
I also went and saw the True Believers this weekend at the Continental Club. I had heard of them for years, but never had the pleasure. Now I wonder what I've been doing with my time. They were SO loud and SO GOOD! Alejandro Escovedo's brother, Javier, is like a Mexican Dave Davies. They just smoked from beginning to end. Jim Dickinson produced them back in the day. Unfortunately no recording is available at this time.

When Bush came to office--installed by the Supreme Court after receiving fewer votes than Al Gore--I speculated that the new President would have to govern in a bipartisan manner to be successful. He chose the opposite path, and his hyper-partisanship has proved to be a travesty of governance and a comprehensive failure.

Okay, I saw this awhile back, but it may be new to you. Gentlemen, I present the Bounce-O-Meter. Created by the luckiest web designers on the planet and delivered by your least favorite bastard. Can you imagine the hours of research that must have gone into this ground-breaking online accomplishment? Sweet ... hypnotic ... research ...
I applied for a job at the Rock'n Roll Hall of Fame. Seriously.
Costello and the Imposters are playing in Washington DC at the famed 9:30 Club on May 18 (which is a Friday night). Tickets to this intimate venue go on sale on Saturday. I'm definitely going, as is my good friend Andy from Washington DC. Any of you other gals up for this? I'd be happy to score as many tickets as possible (not sure of the limit though). Accomodations will be provided, so no expenditures there. I know this is probably difficult or even impossible, but I thought I'd put it out there. By the way, the raison d'etre is the rerelease of some of the original albums on Universal music and some compilations, such as the one pictured above. Any takers, pussies?

Very interesting Jarvis Cocker interview over at Pitchfork (shudder). He's a fascinating dude; for example, as guest editor of The Observer Music Monthly, he organized a panel to determine whether or not music still matter(s).It was just a question that had been on my mind a lot at that particular time, because there seems to be a contradiction in the fact that there's more music around and more channels or downloading music or more channels on TV, and yet at the same time, in some ways it doesn't seem to be as vital as it once was. It seems to be just another entertainment option or lifestyle enhancement aid or something. And it's something that I've been thinking about.
Time for a little soul searching, ladies. Name the five most embarrassing bands (specifying album) that you would hesitate to admit to other music snobs that you actively listen or listened to. Anything from birth to present. And leave the Subteens off. That's a given.
In case you haven't been paying attention, the effort to make PJP II a saint is picking up steam. But finding verifiable miracles in this skeptical age can be a sticky wicket. This from the actual news article: "The Vatican's complicated saint-making procedures require that a miracle attributed to the candidate's intercession be confirmed before beatification. A second miracle after beatification is necessary for canonization. The Congregation for the Causes of Saints will appoint medical experts to determine if there are medical explanations for the nun's recovery. Theologians will then determine if the cure came as a result of prayer to John Paul."
While trying to find out how many plagues were visited upon Egypt (don't ask why), I stumbled across the Book of Ratings wherein anything that can be rated, is. Some particularly entertaining articles deal with rating Green Arrow's array of arrows, state quarters, and the aforementioned plagues of Egypt. Just the kind of pop culture referencing snark bullshit we all love.
MARIA