| Thursday, March 8, 2001 07:10 p.m. PST |
| . . . currently watching urgh! a music war, a concert film documenting the punk and new wave zeitgeist of 1981. it's still pretty early in the film now; so far they've shown the police and wall of voodoo, both of which were fairly sedate on stage (although sting certainly was lookin' unctuous under the harsh bright light). right now some chick i've never heard of named toyah wilcox is pogoing and getting all revival-like with her hands in the air. she's kinda got some kind of debbie harry thing going on. . . who's john cooper clarke? and what's with the acapella new-wave? i think this guy may have been one of nico's many boyfriends. he sure looks the part. alrighty, here's orchestral manoevres in the dark, milking the anglo-synthpop angle arguably harder than a flock of seagulls and soft cell. but then, maybe it's just the lighting. anyway, i'll be back later with an update. oh wait! it's an old-school british punk band called chelsea! rawk! but these guys need to jump around or something, i mean fr chrissakes this is punk rawk! anyway, i'll be back when the movie's over.
ok. it's over now. words can't describe how excellent and necessary to view this film is for anyone with even a passing interest in alternative and indie music post-1980. jeez, let me run through some of the highlights: danny elfman flaunting his nascent musical wizardry in oingo boingo, jello biafra sermoning the crowd about punk rock politics, magazine's pioneering mix of punk rhythms and keyboard leads (which reggie & the full effect are currently screwing up), gang of four building the foundations of art-punk from augs and sus's, and other excellent performances by devo, joan jett, steel pulse, the cramps, the au pairs, pere ubu, the alleycats, john otway, skafish, and x. the director chose to bookend the film with two songs by post-punk's biggest success story, the police. they did "driven to tears" first, and for the closer, a sublime rendering of "roxanne" to which the crowd sang along. but if i had to pick a single highlight, i'd have to choose xtc's spellbinding performance of "respectable street." it's a real shame about andy partridge's unfortunate stage fright, because he looked devilishly confident and a little psychotic up on stage. seeing the band play one of their best songs live under the circumstances was a real treat, to say the least. the sundance channel will be rebroadcasting this film commercial-free a couple times next week, so you'll be able to catch it if you missed it. this film is worth skipping class, work, or even a really hot date for. it's that frickin' wonderful. |
| Tuesday, March 6, 2001 12:34 a.m. PST |
| break out the exorcism tongs, ye faithful, because i've been possessed by the itinerant spirit of gavin king. yeah, you heard right, wolf 359's going jump-up d&b. for some reason i suddenly felt the need to write some fast, bass-heavy, dumb partytronica. and for some other reason, what came out sounded somewhat similar to aphrodite, of all junglists. so yeah, it's club music for the indie-rock set, complete with a sample of a british wanker trying to flow lyrically. i call it "real muthaphuckkin' scenestas," and it'll be up when i finish it.
pitchfork has an enlightening interview with the estimable j. robbins, one of my biggest musical inspirations and former leader of greatest indie rock band ever jawbox. also, this article just goes to show you that as long as sticks sprout from the asses of public school officials, the nation's schoolchildren will suffer. |
| Sunday, March 4, 2001 07:42 p.m. PST |
| welllll. . . i managed to shelve my incipient misanthropy yesterday to go out with some people for sushi. but before that, i schooled a bunch of CS majors on capcom vs. snk for dreamcast. yeah, psych majors always make the best fighting game champs, because they always know what you're most likely to do. the most skilled fighter in my town was a psych major. . . but i digress.
we (me and three other guys) spent about 90 minutes on the road last night looking for a specific sushi place in sunnyvale that no one in the car knew directions to. after about an hour, glucose deprivation had me spewing profanity worse than eminem on a bad day. eventually we ended up eating at in&out, where i set the world record for speed of consumption of one single and one double cheeseburger. ahhh, so satisfying.
good news, wolf 359 fans (yeah, all two'a y'all): at the end of the quarter when my next paycheck clears i'm going to buy a new sound card. that means all the new songs i record after march will sound much cleaner and more professional. i can't wait, personally. also, you'll want to check out this band i discovered on mp3.com, secret demand: sound. their name is a little bombastic, but they stir up some nice reverby post-shoegazer rawk that reminds me of juno, morrissey (the singer sounds like him) and catherine wheel all at once. i'd suggest the song "ecstasy"; it's been echoing throughout my associative areas all day. |
| Friday, March 2, 2001 05:04 p.m. PST |
| goddamnit. superchunk is playing tomorrow night and i'm not going. because i can't find anyone else willing to go with me, and the show may well be sold out already. ticketweb isn't offering any tix online, so that'd mean i'd have to head out to the venue and try to get some at the door. but god, i'm sicka people. i asked like five people to go with me, and all i got was unenthusiastic, noncommittal bullshit and excuses. i swear, the way music fans around here treat me you'd think indie rockers are a dime a dozen. i don't know whether it's me or them, but for some reason it seems like 9 times out of 10 when i try to make friends with someone who seems interesting, i end up falling flat on my socially incompetent face. guess that's why jack never got back to me. ugh, there's no eloquent way to say it: i'm in such a foul mood right now i feel like i'm gonna kill the next person who tries to talk to me. thank god for helmet, is all i have to say. |
| Wednesday, February 28, 2001 11:35 p.m. PST |
| a couple interesting things happened today. one, a resident left flowers at my door to show her appreciation for my assistance getting her computer on the network in early january. yeah, i was thinking it was kind of belated too, but maybe some lovestruck idiot gave her some flowers and she decided to pass the savings on to me. whatever the circumstance, it was a sweet gesture, and i thanked her for it.
also i just got back from a workshop on sexy dancing led by my RA, an accomplished dancer. i don't feel any sexier, but i got plenty turned on by all the ass-, hip-, and chest-shaking that went on. it kinda got me thinking about the different mindsets men and women adopt while shaking their respective groove thangs on the dancefloor. my RA said that women like to feel sexy and have fun; that in essence, dancing is an end unto itself for them. speaking from a heterosexual male perspective, i intimated to some of my fellow (male) dance students that it's more of a means for guys, a means to an end, that end being getting laid in most cases. so when a guy and a girl are bumpin' 'n grindin' together, the girl's thinking "wow, this is so much fun! i look sooo hot!" while her partner's thinking "how much longer is this gonna last? i want my stinkin' payoff!" i realize my analysis is stereotypical, unscientific, oversimplified and probably flat-out wrong in a lot of cases, but it seems plausible, and that's what's important. and i sincerely hope that none of this is any kind of revelation for y'all, especially the ladies. but i give my readers far more credit than that.
my stats service recently returned the following google search string in a referring URL: "stanford wolf my lovin compliant songs." that means that not only was this person looking for me, but they also knew a bit about who i am. how flattering. whoever you are, drop me a line and sing my praises over email. as an artist, i thrive on attention, though i probably shouldn't. |
| Monday, February 26, 2001 09:47 p.m. PST |
| my username on napster is 1stdarkride. like most napster usernames, there's a story behind it. and the story is this: it's the name of a coil song. in case you've never heard of them, coil is a band so twisted, so dark and commercially unacceptable that none of their albums have ever been released domestically in the US. well. . . some of their stuff fits that description. some of it's just instrumental trip-hop inflected with electro and other beat-conscious quantized musicks. now there's some music to listen to in the dark.
and here's another band whose record you should buy and whose live show you should attend: the bellrays. so they're from LA, and they're heavily influenced by the stooges, but here's the kicker: their singer is a black chick who channels the soulful power of tina turner and aretha franklin into something much more reckless and raw. finally, a band with rock and soul influences that are simultaneously discernible (afghan whigs my ass. i like 'em, but no one's ever gonna mistake greg dulli for marvin gaye). it's passionate, it's semi-original, well-played and oh so quality. the new record's called grand fury; i don't own it yet but i soon will.
the tears for fears cover is still contingent on larmey finishing up the vocals, but in the meantime i've started work on a new cover. this one's a pixies song, but i'm not gonna say which one till it's done. what i will say is that most of the instrumentation'll be on synths, with maybe a little guitar on the chorus. and i think i may even be able to sing this one myself! joy. ooh, gottafinishblogentryquickdariaalmostbackon-- |
| Saturday, February 24, 2001 08:40 p.m. PST |
| LOL! something was funny. this is what it is: in the original version of the brighter side of darkness's "love jones," the lead singer starts off with one of those old-school soul monologues. he gets to talkin' to his bay-beh, and eventually mouthes the following slice of ridiculum, and i quote: "i don't want to bore you with a long, irrevelant conversation. . ." now, i realize only a huge grammar dork like me would find the guy's mispronunciation humorous, but i literally LOLed when i first heard it. i guess it's forgivable considering the guy was only 12, but that does little to decrease the laff value. anyway,
i've recently caught on to the instrumental genius that is sweep the leg johnny. those guys are quite excellent with their intellectualist meanderings and singular saxwork. i'm not a huge fan of the sax as an instrument, and even less so in a rock context, but these guys made me love it. highly recommended for fans of the 90 day men and faraquet. don't be put off by their inclusion on the emo diaries comp; they really. . . uhh. . . rock. damn. pitchfork material i ain't.
also, EVERYONE needs to get the new tortoise. standards is my personal top album of the year so far. unequivocally transcendent. these guys syncretize more influences than you've ever even heard of to create a sound that is at once compelling, joyful, and oddly accessible. even my dad liked it. i don't own any of tortoise's previous records, but i'm sure the new stuff blows it out of the water. blah blah, do yourself the favor, yadayada. if you don't like this record, you suck, and everyone hates you.
tune in next time, when i'll most likely discuss something else. yea gorgeous! |
| Thursday, February 22, 2001 12:57 a.m. PST |
| new music, and the grammys suck. yeah, i got a new song. it's called "infinity avenue" and the lyrics are based on a short story by j.g. ballard entitled "the concentration city." i'll have those up along with an entry in the guide a little later on. plus i re-linked the archive; it didn't like my new design, but i fixed that. i hope.
well, as you might've guessed, my mom got snubbed by the grammy award committee for the fourth and fifth times tonight. but she put on a house-rocking performance of nat king cole's "straighten up and fly right" with acappella group take 6 backing her up. for those of you who watched, she went on at about 9:45 eastern and pacific. they showed nelly and charlotte church givin my mom props after she finished. quite comical. i managed to get an avi capture of the performance; i may make it available for download. like any of y'all care.
i've already voiced my opinion on how shitty the grammys are and their ugly similarity to high school elections, so i'm not going to go into that here. i'm just sorry my mom puts so much stock in what the voters decide. she's always so excited to be nominated, and then the committee dashes her hopes. if it were me, i wouldn't give two shits about what my "peers" say about the commercial viability of and marketing campaign behind my music. the truth is there really isn't a music awards show that's based completely (or even mostly) on artistic merit. but i wish there were, because there are a lot of records out there that could use formal recognition. rrrggh! i'm just tired of talking about it. such trash and rubbish!
my dad's flying up for the weekend, so i don't know if i'll get a chance to update the blog over the next few days. but by all means, keep compulsively checking the page. because you never know. . . |
|
