Thursday, September 29, 2005

I'll give up cigarettes and you sell your hair...

The Pernice Brothers get a shout out on the funny pages. This is bigger than the time Dolly was wearing a Nashville Pussy t-shirt in the Family Circus (which set up a delicious homoerotic malaprop by Jeffy about his preference for dogs). Between this and that Sears commercial, these guys are turning into media juggernauts.

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

How my mind goes back/ suffocating on the pines/ in Jacksonville...

One thing about Ryan Adams: the man's generous. You can listen to his new album, which came out today, on his site.

Monday, September 26, 2005

It's in a hand shake or a lucky break/ in a bottle of wine or just losing some time...

A little self-promotion, off-topic:

Katrina Relief Fundraiser
Where: Lucky Bar
When: Tuesday, September 27, from 8 p.m. to close.
What: For a $5 donation, you get drink specials and entry into a raffle for a $100 bar tab. You also get something not as quantifiable or tangible: a good feeling in your heart. And for once, it won't be because of the Ecstacy.

Thursday, September 22, 2005

You are like a hurricane/ there's calm in your eyes.

"I wish New Orleans was dry and Washington was underwater"
-- Tom Waits

Thursday, September 15, 2005

She's havin' my baby...

It's a boy, and already the smartest in the family.

Friday, September 09, 2005

A four-and-a-half star bang...

Wow, four and a half stars. And Jann Wenner didn't even write the review... or so they would have you believe...

One problem is, the reviewer parrots Mick's PR point about the album's length: It's only two minutes shorter than Exile! Great, but beside the point. I once recorded an album of fart jokes (The Musical Fruit!) that was only a minute shorter than Blood on the Tracks, but I don't compare the two. This album feels about half an hour longer than Exile and not even a fraction as good.

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

I got my sturdy wrists...

My third favorite live band of all time (behind Springsteen and the Afghan Whigs) is calling it quits. So unless I find myself in San Diego on Halloween, I shall never again be graced with the sweaty, matching-shirt greatness that is Rocket From the Crypt. The worst part is, I just got my RFTC tattoo so I could get in free at all future shows. Once again, done in by my own procrastination. That tattoo is going to be more dated than the "Thug Life" tattoo on my stomach ("hugs not guns" is the new gangster).

"Anything can happen!"

Television Without Pity recaps the MTV Video Music Awards.

Monday, September 05, 2005

And let no one know until I'm gone...

Alex Chilton is missing? Where is the coverage or the outrage? Does the president not care about black people or well-respected cult songwriters? (By the way, it's not that the president doesn't care about black people, it's that he doesn't care about poor people. He absolutely loves black people who have money.)

Update: OK, looks like he's alright and was spotted in a bar, so I'm behind the times. You're off the hook this time, President Bush, but I swear to God, if Van Dyke Parks ever goes missing, you better get you ass in gear quick-like.

In better news, the Pernice Brothers are selling a downloadable EP through their site, all proceeds of which go to the Red Cross (not to be confused with the critically acclaimed '90s band Red Kross, which will have to continue to make money the old-fashioned way.)

Friday, September 02, 2005

We learned more from a three-minute record, baby/ than we'd ever learned in school...

Finally, a reason to go back to school (besides to avoid military service). Makes me pine for the days when I used to write papers on the women of Springsteen songs and R.E.M.'s varying use of water metaphors. Ah, to be an state-school English major again, save for the long periods of subsequent unemployment.

Success is so forbidding/ but it makes me think I am winning...

Oh, snap, William and Mary, you got served by Clap Your Hands, Say Yeah. When the Black Cat comes calling, you answer the phone. Then you cancel on the well-respected liberal arts school. William and Mary: indie rock's safety school.

(This was pointed out by DCist. Propers where propers are due.)

I tried to see these guys in Philly, but totally missed them. Turns out - surprise! - they weren't the headliners of the show, and all I got for my $10 was a six-song set by Magnolia Electric Co. (which was pretty good, all things considered) and a sweated-through shirt (the First Unitarian Church basement is like living under a Al Rocker's balls, pre-gastric bypass). Looks like I got served by the dreadlocked guy at the door. My one chance to be ahead of the curve, and I blew it.

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