Wednesday, May 29, 2002 -- 09:44 p.m.

I am going to probably look like a total backpedaling chumpass saying this, but I checked out The Original Hip-Hop Lyrics Archive and read the lyrics to The Eminem Show- and that line "nobody listens to techno" (from "Without Me", a song that sounds kind of like Daft Punk, heh) is the ONLY thing in there that pisses me off. The rest of it's nothing shocking to me (at least considering I've been listening to Ghostface's Supreme Clientele lately), and while there's the usual angriness towards various women, some of the lyrics makes him seem really conflicted and human and kind of a tragic figure, to an extent. And that line about how he's out of the closet and him and Dre are "fuckin' without hats" makes me laugh and laugh and laugh. I... damn. I'm within inches of actually considering buying this CD. It's all about whether or not the production is good or ass, really.

Another sign The Eminem Show might be worth buying: Jim DeRogatis hates it.

-Nate

Wednesday, May 29, 2002 -- 08:40 p.m.

I was going to remark on a particular thread on ILM and how it's sort of weirding me out, but OOPS:

"Josh has elected to password-protect this bulletin board. You must enter the user password before you can view or add postings."

Funny- I didn't get a password. (Not that this is a big hint that I want one or anything. Maybe this is for the better. I won't have to deal with *th*n anymore.)

EDIT: Weird. The password stuff is gone now. What the hell...? Anyways, I'm back to posting there again, Lord knows why.

-Nate

Wednesday, May 29, 2002 -- 07:23 p.m.

Looks like the QCPM '79 thing is going to be tomorrow, therefore continuing my every-eight-days pattern. See, I CAN make a committment, dammit! But I am pausing in my writing right now to gawk in awe at this.

-Nate

Tuesday, May 28, 2002 -- 10:02 p.m.

Courtesy of The Onion, here is the funniest thing ever.

-Nate

Tuesday, May 28, 2002 -- 06:24 p.m.

Well, dammit.

-Nate

Saturday, May 25, 2002 -- 11:42 a.m.

Recently downloaded MP3: Denny McLain, "Girl From Ipanema/Meditation": Yes, I have fallen under the pernicious influence of retro-lounge kitsch (and about five years too late), but when it's performed by a Detroit Tiger who was (a) the last pitcher to win 30 games, in 1968; (b) forgot how to pitch good in 1970 and (c) got in serious shit for racketeering and possible mob connections then you've got somethin' special.

-Nate

Thursday, May 23, 2002 -- 04:51 p.m.

Two things that appear dead:
1) I Love Music (temporarily, probably)
2) My turntable (this appears to be permanent, and of course it conks out before I can listen to a 7" single I have to review for Demorama. And no, I didn't break it trying to do Marley Marl scratchin' action.)
I would appreciate hearing from anyone with advice on what sort of replacement turntable to purchase that won't force me to sell my gonads just to raise the cash. Thanx.

EDIT: ILM is back, although whether it is accompanied by quote-unquote "another one-a them block rockin' beats" is as yet to be determined.

-Nate

Wednesday, May 22, 2002 -- 06:08 p.m.

I hate to bump QCPM '78 to the archives already, but I gotta post this tale of an inadvertent musical history lesson I received.
At the urging of Michaelangelo Matos, I scraped together some spare leftover grocery money and some cash I got for selling a few of my CDs and got the James Brown Star Time box set used. And he's right- it's easily one of if not the best collections of music ever. But at the risk of sounding like I don't appreciate its sheer greatness, there is something I discovered that puts a strange sort of damper on proceedings, and while it doesn't make me question James Brown's genius at all, it does bother me a bit.
So I'm walking home from the SuperAmerica (which is what we have in the Mpls./St. Paul area instead of 7-11) and I'm listening to Disc Four, and on comes "Hot (I Need to be Loved, Loved, Loved)". It was a song I'd never heard before, but it was instantly familiar to me: it sounded uncannily like David Bowie's "Fame". Now my first thought was "fucking Bowie, ripping off the Godfather of Soul like that", and I listened to this song and marveled at how damn funky it was, just off the charts bumpin', another shining example of the unparalleled brilliance of Mr. Dynamite. When I got home, I decided to look through the booklet that came with the box set, and looked this song up. Hrm. Brown gets sole writing credit, but the song was listed as being recorded in September-October 1975 and released that December, months after Young Americans was released.

Uh-oh.

Google time. My fears were confirmed here, in an interview with guitarist Carlos Alomar, and I got this odd feeling in the pit of my stomach I haven't had since I learned the Beatles didn't do their own voices in Yellow Submarine. Things seem a bit weirder now knowing that the Godfather of Soul ganked a rhythm from the Thin White Duke (or at least his guitarist). Funny thing is: it doesn't really hurt my opinion of Brown one bit, but it does make me appreciate Bowie just a little more.

-Nate