the battle of who could care less

So we got back from the Siren Music Festival a while ago and it was really awesome. We were going to stay for the whole thing but damn is it hot out today. The Dodos were pretty good. It seemed like they were having some A/V trouble backstage because the sound quality wasn't all that fantastic, but they performed a good set so I really can't complain. The best show though was definitely Beach House. Beach House is the perfect music to listen to on a sunny summer day. I just wish there was a large patch of grass we could have sat on since it isn't really dancing music and it was fucking crowded. Good music for smoking a bowl to.

On another note here is King Crimson's first and most well known album, In the Court of the Crimson King. I'm really not that much of a fan of prog (probably why I hate The Mars Volta. Prog rock is dead and should stay that way), but this album is a masterpiece. The albums eponymous song is quite something to behold. Epic doesn't even begin to cover it. 21st Century Schizoid Man is also a pretty sweet song. Pretty grungy and really catchy.




Allmusic's review:
"This reissue of King Crimson's debut, In the Court of the Crimson King (1969), renders all previous pressings obsolete. In the late '90s, Robert Fripp remastered the entire Crimson catalog for inclusion in a 30th anniversary edition. Nowhere was the upgrade more deserved (or necessary) than on this rock & roll cornerstone. Initially, King Crimson consisted of Robert Fripp (guitar), Ian McDonald (reeds/woodwind/vibes/keyboards/Mellotron/vocals), Greg Lake (bass/vocals), Michael Giles (drums/percussion/vocals), and Peter Sinfield (words/illuminations). As if somehow prophetic, King Crimson projected a darker and edgier brand of post-psychedelic rock. Likewise, they were inherently intelligent -- a sort of thinking man's Pink Floyd. Fripp demonstrates his innate aptitude for contrasts and the value of silence within a performance, even as far back as "21st Century Schizoid Man." The song is nothing short of the aural antecedent to what would become the entire heavy alternative/grunge sound. Juxtaposed with that electric intensity is the ethereal noir ballad "I Talk to the Wind." The delicate vocal harmonies and McDonald's achingly poignant flute solo and melodic counterpoint remain unmatched on an emotive level. The surreal and opaque lyrics are likewise an insight to Peter Sinfield's masterful wordplay, which graced their next three releases. The original A-side concludes with the powerful sonic imagery of "Epitaph." The haunting Mellotron wails, and Fripp's acoustic -- as well as electric -- guitar counterpoints give the introduction an almost sacred feel, adding measurably to the overall sinister mood. Giles' percussion work provides a pungent kick during the kettle drum intro and to the aggressive palpitation-inducing rhythm in the chorus. "Moonchild" is an eerie love song that is creepy, bordering on uncomfortable. The melody is agile and ageless, while the instrumentation wafts like the wind through bare trees. Developing out of the song is an extended improvisation that dissolves into a non-structured section of free jazz, with brief guitar lines running parallel throughout. The title track, "In the Court of the Crimson King," completes the disc with another beautifully bombastic song. Here again, the foreboding featured in Sinfield's lyrics is instrumentally matched by the contrasting verbosity in the chorus and the delicate nature of the verses and concluding solos. Of course, this thumbnail appraisal pales in comparison to experiencing the actual recording. Thanks to Fripp and company's laborious efforts, this 30th anniversary edition sports sound as majestic as it has ever been within the digital domain. Frankly, the HDCD playback compatibility even bests the warmth and timbre of an original 1-A vinyl pressing. This is especially critical during the quieter passages throughout "Moonchild" and "I Talk to the Wind." Initial releases were housed in a limited-edition gatefold replica of the original LP packaging and were accompanied by an oversized 12-page memorabilia booklet with photos and press clippings from the era."
-Allmuic


Here

I want to hold a jam session soon. Does anyone have a good space or want to join in? I'll bring my P-bass; guitarists, drummers, keyboardists, noise-makers, and singers all welcome, and whatever else I forgot.

Drop me a comment if you're interested.

Just a thought to put out there:


Snoop Dogg's first album is perfect.  The production is spot on, the nihilism is put out in just the right amount and coupled with an atmosphere that screams of the nineties.  The album is almost a social commentary, but still not to be taken seriously.  Nate Dogg does a track too,  What more could one ask for?

Maybe I'll grow some balls.

I miss feeling blue birds and hope when I think about a guy.

My regiment these past months: neuromuscular-activation therapy three times a week, osteopathy once a week. It's working. Immediately after a session on Monday, I could walk painlessly and with relative ease for a few blocks. For those few blocks I was euphoric. I was looking up at buildings instead of at the ground (lest I stumble), I was happy with the world. Even an hour later, when all the pains -- physical, psychical -- had returned, lying on my back, I derived optimism and security from the mere fact that I still possessed the potential for such uninhibited joy.

I had an X-ray today, 17 months after the injury. Avascular necrosis is what they call bone dying from lack of blood supply after a trauma. It wasn't at all present in the X-Rays I had taken in January, but these X-Rays look grim even to an amateur's eye. It's pretty clear now that my femoral head (which locks in the hip ball-socket) is imploding. According to my surgeon, nothing can be done about my hip's trajectory. The fact that I was to develop symptoms of avascular necrosis 17 months after my injury was predetermined at the moment of impact. Whether my avascular necrosis will be consequential any time soon (the pain isn't yet from bone degeneration) is similarly both decided and unknowable. I may need a full hip replacement in a month, or this could remain latent for 20 years.



On just a slightly different note, I enjoyed, but didn't love, Kundera's 'The Unberable Lightness of Being,' though it was truly beautifully written. I haven't read a book that quickly in a while.

Today I....

- Cut work
- Got my film! I might upload some here.
- Went to Bed Stuy to go silkscreen printing with John and Alex where...
o The place was broken into but really chill and relaxed
o Run by young hip anarcho-feminists with pretty awesome music choices (apparently they were in a band?)
o Caught wind of a party in Williamsburg
o Tried to screen print...ended up buying a screen and getting my screen alllll mussed up, but it was good to be back in a studio
o Losing my cellphone in the art studio... in Bed Stuy... which I have to go back to...groan.

Tomorrow I...

- Go to ABC No Rio Print services to see if things are a bit less cluttered.
- GET ON IT.

I agree that the illustration on the New Yorker, despite being anti right-wing satire, was inappropriate. Regardless, Tom Tomorrow has taken the criticism too far. This asshole makes me embarassed to be a democrat, despite how much I like some of his comics. You can find the extended criticism on his website here:

This Modern World

So this week:

Hellboy II
Dark Knight (impossible, it's sold out till Wednesday probably)
The Wackness ~ That would be awesome
Deer Hoof - Free at Prospect Park
Syren Festival - Free Coney Island
Santogold - Free Central Park

Also I might be Karaoking and I have to work on Saturday at Onishi Gallery (on top of my summer camp job) and trying to finish my bear screen and receive my AA t-shirts.

LET'S DO THIS!

Rien.

While I won't say I hit rock bottom, last night I think indicates that I need to do some major overhauling on what I constitute as a "good time". The socializing was fun, but I think I need to stop vomiting each time I drink.

I've been listening pretty heavily to funk these past few weeks, and Stand! has been one of the most listened to funk albums I have. You really can't do much better than Sly and the Family Stone when it comes to funk. Sing a Simple Song is a track I can play over and over again, it's that catchy. While for me that song is the highlight of the album, the other songs are spectacular too. If you like funk, this album is essential.




Allmusic's take:

"Stand! is the pinnacle of Sly & the Family Stone's early work, a record that represents a culmination of the group's musical vision and accomplishment. Life hinted at this record's boundless enthusiasm and blurred stylistic boundaries, yet everything simply gels here, resulting in no separation between the astounding funk, effervescent irresistible melodies, psychedelicized guitars, and deep rhythms. Add to this a sharpened sense of pop songcraft, elastic band interplay, and a flowering of Sly's social consciousness, and the result is utterly stunning. Yes, the jams ("Don't Call Me Nigger, Whitey," "Sex Machine") wind up meandering ever so slightly, but they're surrounded by utter brilliance, from the rousing call to arms of "Stand!" to the unification anthem "Everyday People" to the unstoppable "I Want to Take You Higher." All of it sounds like the Family Stone, thanks not just to the communal lead vocals but to the brilliant interplay, but each track is distinct, emphasizing a different side of their musical personality. As a result, Stand! winds up infectious and informative, invigorating and thought-provoking -- stimulating in every sense of the word. Few records of its time touched it, and Sly topped it only by offering its opposite the next time out."
-Allmusic


Here

Ah The Fugs. While I personally prefer their first album, there are some priceless songs on this one. Group Grope, Dirty Old Man and Mutant Stop (a song about the sexual exploits of a man with, as the song puts it, "a nine pronged dong") stand out for me. Nothing like some good ol' obscene 1960's craziness.




I don't really agree with the allmusic review but what the hell, here it is anyway.

"The Fugs Second Album finds them sounding more professional than on their debut, and still sounding very ahead of their time lyrically, expressing sentiments in ways that just hadn't been done before. Lyrically, many of the tracks on this album wouldn't be out of place on any Dead Kennedys record, but like the Dead Kennedys, the Fugs' weakness for crude humor puts a damper on the whole affair. Sometimes the jokes work ("Dirty Old Man"), sometimes they don't ("Mutant Stomp"), but they're always entertaining. At times, Ed Sanders' nasal whine and clichéd hippie posturing can grow tiresome ("Frenzy," "Group Grope"), but a few true gems do manage to shine through. "Morning Morning" and "I Want to Know," which wouldn't have been out of place on The Velvet Underground & Nico, are true highlights. Like Reed, the revolutionary tag is placed on the Fugs for the sheer frankness they used to deal with the taboo. But whereas Reed dealt with the dark sides of promiscuity and drug use, the Fugs celebrate it, and most times in a very exhibitionist way. Biting social commentary, as on "Doin' All Right," is articulately done, and while being listenable, is not outstanding in musical terms. Bonus tracks, such as "Carpe Diem," are nice additions, and "Wide Wide River," which has a faux gospel feel, is appropriate for the sermonizing the Fugs do on the song, as throughout the album. Overall, The Fugs Second Album is an interesting historical footnote."
-Allmusic


Here

I really really enjoyed St. Vincent today. The weather was great and she (and the rest of the band) was awesome - though the audience was kinda off if you ask me.

I also now have a crush on her co-band member/violinist. Cute guys + violin skills are now an intense turn on.

Oh :

"According to the New York City Parks Department, wild turkey populations live in various parks across New York City, including Van Cortlandt Park and Pelham Bay Park in the Bronx, Inwood Hill Park in Manhattan, the Greenbelt in Staten Island. Single wild turkeys were even spotted strutting their stuff in Manhattan's Riverside Park and Battery Park last year."
-http://www.newyorktails.com/birdmeet.htm

So therefore I wasn't hallucinating the giant bird pecking around rose bushes (in Battery Park) due to heat stroke.

So I just got this album the other day, but I would already say that it's tied with Osmium by Parliament for my number one favorite funk album. Daaaaaamn this album is funky. I would describe it as fuzzed out psych-funk, whatever the hell that is supposed to mean. My favorite tracks are Living in the Ghetto, We Got To Pull Together and Marching To A Different Drummer. That said, the whole album is pure gold. If you like funk even marginally, you definitely should download this album.





Allmusic's take:
"Though African-American and raised in the predominantly Black 105th Superior area of Cleveland, Purple Image played rock -- psychedelic, mind-bending, pass-the-bong, strobe-light, posters-on-the-wall head music. This obscure album recorded on Map Records has risen to the status of cult because of its scarcity and the musical orientation of Warren Adams (vocals, piano, organ), Kenneth Roberts (vocals, rhythm), William Adams (vocals, conga), Frank Smith (lead guitar), Del Moran (bass), Richard Payne (drums), and lone female Diane Dunlap (vocals); Edward Snodgrass, a non-member, augmented P.I. on sax. Purple Image wrote everything except the LP's masterpiece, the 15-minute, 24-second rendition of Bob Craig's "Marching to a Different Drummer." As with all six selections, Purple Image sounds better when the volume is cranked. "Drummer" is an energetic, powerful blend of acid rock and fusion; Snodgrass blows a frantic Coltrane-ish sax, and Dunlap wails like she slammed her hand in a door. "We Got to Pull Together" is an airy, charming, socially significant ballad that urges us to become color-blind, forget the past, and get along. Snodgrass plays a tender horn while a male does a convincing lead wallpapered by some arresting, swooping harmonies. On "Living In the Ghetto," they sing about the woes of poverty; if you like heavy metal, this and "Why" will tickle your fancy. "Lady" features Dunlap and a male on an upbeat rock-blues number. The back cover pictures P.I. posing under the now-defunct Liberty Theater marquee in mod-type clothing. The front cover features a slim, pretty, Afro-wearing Black woman with three arms holding three globes surrounded by clouds."


Here

hahaha Godard created the trailer for the film Mouchette. wtf?

(this would be sort of like using some kind of crazy paperrad collage for the cover of a somber Cormac McCarthy novel.)

"In short, a film that is Christian and sadistic."

Jaco Pastorius is so good, it's actually just not fair to anybody else.

"Where George W Bush once peevishly retorted that his favourite philosopher was "Jesus Christ", Obama devours Friedrich ("God is dead") Nietzsche and Reinhold Niebuhr, the author of the provocative Moral Man and Immoral Society."

http://blogs.guardian.co.uk/books/2008/07/taking_obama_as_wellread.html

I'm judgmental, you're judgmental, we're *ALL* judgmental.

That doesn't mean we still can't deal with each other. I'm getting tired of this. I'm going to just hang out and avoid the negative vibes.