I’ve been meaning to re-post this song for sometime, but even better, here is the video! This song (and, to some extent, the album as a whole) has that interstellar energy characteristic of dancing bears on crack. I listened to this album countless times as I rode in 3rd class train cars across Northern India, and I don’t doubt that it had something to do with my hair growing so long.
Brooklyn Vegan has posted dates to their current European/US tour. As far as I can tell, they have no plans to play Korea in the near future…
Long ago one of my wayward friends stuffed something into my hand and mumbled, “You won’t like it.” Guiltily walking away, I made my best effort to casually glance down at the greasy thing to see just what it was that I was not going to like. On first take it appeared to be a worn Alice Cooper cassette. Turning it over, I read off a piece of masking tape the cryptic phrase ‘Yo La Tengo.’
I am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass (their newest album) at Amazon.ca
Set to the retrospectively terrifying imagery of Riefenstahl’s Triumph of the Will, Smith’s progressive piano playing and dreamy vocals ring haunted. This is the song that sunk myself and my friends on Smith.
His new, posthumous album New Moon is every bit as inspired and depressive as any of his work. Excellent video.
I’m not sure if calling a band named The Moldy Peachesdefunct is redundant, but it being Friday and I feeling both restless and nostalgic, I can think of no better song to post than the classic Whose Got the Crack. Aptly named, the Peaches occupy the musty attic of the musical mind, the very attic that every otherwise sanitary individual feels compelled to enter periodically as an exercise in debauchery and catharsis. It has been said that where G~d nonexistent, it would be necessary to create her. Likewise The Moldy Peaches.But the again… Steak for Chicken:
Reading the excellent mp3 indie blog Swedelife, I came across this new vid for the Figurines‘ Back in the Day. The minimalist animation is by Aaron Blecha and Brad Mossman, the latter of which designed the cover art for their 2006 release Skeleton.
The song is absolutely beautiful and, though it would be easy to rattle off a few pretentious lines about the video - the inevitability of passing into the anonymity of history, the spastic but somehow gentle movement of the figures, etcetera - I’ll abandon spontaneous interpretation and let the work speak for itself, because it can:
One morning as Gregor Samsa woke from anxious dreams, he found himself changed in his bed into a monstrous vermin. He lay on his armour-hard back and saw, as he lifted his head up a little, his brown, vaulted abdomen divided up into rigid bow-like sections.
From this height the blanket, just about ready to slide off completely, could hardly stay in place. His numerous legs, pitifully thin in comparison to the rest of his circumference, flickered helplessly before his eyes.
I’ve been meaning to re-post this song for sometime, but even better, here is the video! This song (and, to some extent, the album as a whole) has that interstellar energy characteristic of dancing bears on crack. I listened to this album countless times as I rode in 3rd class train cars across Northern India, and I don’t doubt that it had something to do with my hair growing so long.
I’m not sure if calling a band named 
Reading the excellent mp3 indie blog 
