HERE IT IS, RIGHT NOW, ALWAYS, FOREVER

My new theme song (obviously).

WRANGLING, INTERNALLY

Clinic are creepy.  Way, way creepy.  I hadn't heard them for years until the other day, when "Walking With Thee" crept (fittingly) into my head.  What a song!  What a paranoid, offputting song.  Their first album, Internal Wrangler, is probably their best, though I loved Walking With Thee also (and, admittedly, I haven't heard their more recent work since then)--so really what I'm saying is that Internal Wrangler was my favorite.

In any case, it's weird, interesting stuff, and genuinely unique.  Making their way to me in my junior year of high school, they were certainly the odd men out among my general rotation of Radiohead, the Strokes, the White Stripes, and the Vines*.  But looking back now, they were probably the first in my continuing obsession with music that creeps me the fuck out: Ade Blackburn's strained, sneering voice; their obsession with surgical masks and odd costumes; the heavy, churning guitars; the eerie melodica lines that float over almost every track.   

It's pretty easy to draw the line from Clinic to other bands I love that possess this same creeping dread: Joy Division (a clear influence on Clinic), The Knife/Fever Ray, Xiu Xiu, Liars, and even, to a lesser extent, bands like TV On The Radio or Sunset Rubdown.  It's a difficult thing to express, but one that is instantly recognizable.

I hauled out Internal Wrangler and uploaded it to my elder statesman of a computer; it's currently in heavy rotation. Highly recommended.








*Hey, give me a break, it was 2002.  Also, I later saw the Vines play the Bluebird Theatre in Denver, CO, and it was legitimately awesome.  What's-his-name, Craig something, the lead singer, freaked out at the end of their set, took his shirt off, and proceeded to break every piece of equipment they owned.  

WE'VE GOT OUR FINGER ON THE PULSE OF AMERICA

 
Bits n snippets:

~ The esteemed FreeDarko has a killer guest article up about basketball in the Philippines.  Check that out, and make sure not to skimp on the YouTube clips (otherwise you might miss the mighty, virile mustache of Samboy "Skywalker" Lim). 

~ Daphne Guinness is wacky, lovable.

~ The A.V. Club rocks a sweet Inventory list this week, about essential B-side/rarities comps.

~The Future Is Now: Pizza comes in a cone!!!!!!!!!!!1!!
  
~I was at a bar last night and they were jamming vintage Liars, so:

This Dust Makes That Mud - Lia...

SPEND ALL YOUR MONEY BY THE END OF THE WEEKEND

Why is it that we don't have award show performances like this in America? I mean, yeah, this is, in some ways, typical bombastic fare for your Grammys etc. But you've got to admit, when on a US award show have you seen a crazy-ass mash-up featuring two interesting, groundbreaking artists (well, at least one anyway), with a shit-ton of harps and confetti? The best we got at the Grammys this year was Elton John singing with Lady Gaga, Stevie Nicks singing a Taylor Swift song, and Beyonce singing Alanis Morissette. What the fuck?

It's a little more than just the glory of this one performance, isn't it? Why isn't Dizzee Rascal big in the U.S.? After his latest album, I'm hardpressed to tell you why--it's dancy, it's club-ready, it's funny; it's just generally way more interesting than something like the aforementioned Gaga (sorry, Lady G; you may dress like a cowardly lion that lives in the house from the end of 2001, but your music is still boringsville), and Dizzee has got tons of what we blue-blooded Americans love: chutzpah, some would call it (and rightfully so).  So again: what the fuck?

And seriously, if you haven't checked out Tongue N' Cheek, you're doing yourself a fucking disservice. It's funny, it's "Bonkers," (har-har), and Dizzee is better than ever. It's probably his best album to date, in my opinion; the weird, Euro trance/house production actually suits him really well. On reflection, the super brittle grime stuff of his early albums could never fully support the bulky fluidity of his rhymes.  The hyperactive clubby shit works to his advantage, though I never thought I would enjoy this sort of thing until the album dropped.  Dizzee's rapping seems to recontextualize what I would generally consider to be shitty.  

I don't know how it works, just that it does:

ARE YOU A C-C-COP?

Sometimes my writing takes on this clipped tone. It's when I'm at my best. Ideas flow effortlessly and concisely. At once. It's when I don't feel like a fraud. When I feel like writing is what I'm supposed to do.

I get a few minutes of it a week and I keep them like a secret.

***

I was working on a mini-profile/interview of cartoonist Lisa Hanawalt and I realized that all my favorite young cartoonists are girls. Besides Hanawalt this list includes Matsumoto-esque Helen Jo (who I've written about here before), tough and violent as shit Michaela Zacchilli and the oh so cute Ines Estrada (Mexico!). Not that it means anything but it happened without me realizing it. I have always gotten along well with girls.

***

Do you think Brandon Jennings cares that we talk about his hair so much. I sure as hell hope not. And if he does, can you blame us.

***

(Gchat) Quote of the Week

adam.lodynsky: GETFAMILIAR! AIRHORN! AIRHORN!

i'm baaack

WE GOT (4) LOKO

This is how I felt when I woke up this morning.

THIEVES IN THE NIGHT

 
I first heard of UK design team of Reno Inchenko and Julie Rouzioux, a.k.a. White Trumpet, um...God knows where.  It was about a year ago, at least, and I was pretty interested by their Spring-Summer 2009 collection.  A lot of the stuff was rudimentary, but the ideas were fascinating to me: the repetition of triangles; the hazy, washed out photography; and the somewhat cheeky references to science.  After paging through the photos, I wrote down the name and URL in my notebook and totally forgot about it.  Until now.

Checking out the collections that White Trumpet have presented since then, I'm further intrigued.  For Autumn-Winter 2009/2010, they took inspiration from "the world’s most powerful particle accelerator"--some of it comes off as a little lazy, or a little cookie-cutter hipster clothes, but again, there is a power of line in a lot of the stuff that's pretty appealing.

But again, I'm really more taken with the foundation, with the concepts, than the actual out-and-out clothing.  I suppose partially that has to do with the fact that these are women's garments, and they simply don't appeal to me on a gut level of "I want to floss that shit."  But still, I'm almost troubled by my inability to separate a cool idea from middling execution.
  
Maybe the underlying point, then, is that the conceptual conceit of White Trumpet is solid, or at least an interesting and new approach--the translation of the majesty and mystery of astro/quantum physics into a wearable garment certainly peaks my interest--but the results are less than satisfactory.  That is to say, the product lags behind the ideas.  Some of the pieces are good, I'll give them that, but I'd like to see the brains behind the operation (Inchenko, presumably) join forces with someone a little more fashion forward.

Inspired by a particle accelarator?  That shit better look fuckin' nuts--no jersey dresses please.  

AND HAVE I LIVED MY LIFE TOO SELFISHLY BABY

Dear The Drums,

I'm buying what you're selling. So keep doing it.

Your songs about Obama and holding hands with girls make me feel warm during these cold (as shit) winter months.

With the exception of a Wavves record with Zach Hill on it, your full lenght will be what I look most forward to this year. Musically. That's big time.

Even when I'm rattled, you get me through it. Thanks for that.

Sincerely,

Bryan Hood

I THREW AWAY MY CANDY BAR, AND I ATE THE WRAPPER

There's something there for sure, but shit is mad complicated and I'm not going to wade into those waters.

MIND READING, MOUNTAIN DWELLING GOBLINZ

Too busy for anything right now except LINK-O-RAMA:

Japanese Monsters On Blast

Bill Murray Went To The Sorbonne And Is Smarter Than You

Holy Shit, Moonface Is Here (And OMG It's Free)

The Scottish Are Awesome

PEACE, BITCHES

I DO EXIST

We came up with the term nearly four years ago. To date, we've both only met three, really got to know one (each of us, that is). I think that's a good thing. Proves that they're something special.

The above image is by Hellen Jo, a Korean-American artist based out of the Bay Area. She wrote and drew this super rad comic called Jin & Jam last year, which I recommend to anyone whose ever even batted an eyelash at the work of Taiyo Matsumoto. Andrew and I went to see this and a handful of other paintings at GRNY's Playful Extremities art show (italicized or quotes? I'll go with italics, obviously) the first or second weekend of the New York experiment. Probably the second, the night after all this shit that neither of us had anything to do with went down. And to think, the teenage melodrama has only gotten more juicy since.

That's all.

COMING SOON: Fiction!

WHO THE F WORD ARE YOU YOU YOU

Here's the video for the new Xiu Xiu track, "Dear God, I Hate Myself."  As the description warns, don't watch it if you're, like, eating a sandwich or something.

HEADLESS HORSEMAN

A more substantial update is coming tomorrow, but I thought it worth mentioning the wealth of Salinger material currently awaiting you at the New Yorker.  The writers there sum up a lot of my own feelings in a much more succinct and beautiful way than my typo-ridden blog post ever could.

Feast your eyes on these for now.