Thursday, February 15, 2007:
The Machine of Death is an upcoming collection of fiction about a rather terse machine predicting how people will die. Ruby Isle have got their entry in early.
As the Machine of Death site says:
"I called my baby, said 'baby, the end is coming'; she said
'Na na na na na, na na na na na, naa naa naa naa, na na na na na.
'Na na na na na, na na na na na, naa naa naa naa, na na na na na.'"
Ruby Isle's narrator is distraught (this is a horrible time to die). Ruby Isle are not (this is a great time to party).
[Ruby Isle's MySpace page and Fanatic Promotion page]
Ruby Isle -- Atom Bomb
Ruby Isle -- Atom BombThe Machine of Death is an upcoming collection of fiction about a rather terse machine predicting how people will die. Ruby Isle have got their entry in early.
As the Machine of Death site says:
The realization that we could now know how we were going to die had changed the world: people became at once less fearful and more afraid. There's no reason not to go skydiving if you know your sliver of paper says "BURIED ALIVE". The realization that these predictions seemed to revel in turnabout and surprise put a damper on things. It made the predictions more sinister -- yes, if you were going to be buried alive you weren't going to be electrocuted in the bathtub, but what if in skydiving you landed in a gravel pit? What if you were buried alive not in dirt but in something else? And would being caught in a collapsing building count as being buried alive? For every possibility the machine closed, it seemed to open several more, with varying degrees of plausibility.Or, as Ruby Isle would have it,
"I called my baby, said 'baby, the end is coming'; she said
'Na na na na na, na na na na na, naa naa naa naa, na na na na na.
'Na na na na na, na na na na na, naa naa naa naa, na na na na na.'"
Ruby Isle's narrator is distraught (this is a horrible time to die). Ruby Isle are not (this is a great time to party).
[Ruby Isle's MySpace page and Fanatic Promotion page]
Monday, July 17, 2006:
Here's Syl Johnson with a song about living in the ghetto. This isn't the maudlin Mac Davis ghetto, and Syl Johnson isn't most interested in mamas crying because they had a baby; he's more interested in mamas crying because they lost a baby, in couples fighting becaue they're jealous, and in people burning to death because there's no back door on the apartments. The vocals are, appropriately, not mournful but full of a simmering rage; the guitar snaps, the strings stab, the lyrics sting:
Here in the ghetto, it's a bad situation / Call it what you want to; it's just a concrete reservation.
Johnson's also known for his track "Is It Because I'm Black?" which I have by Johnson only in a version that drags on a bit too long for my interest, though Ken Boothe also recorded an impressive version of it.
"Concrete Reservation" is off Is It Because I'm Black?, which is also available in a pricy re-release with Dresses Too Short; or you can pick it up on the greatest hits comp Twilight and Twinight.
...
More HiFi finds: "I Am a Demon and Will Swallow Your Soul," "Olivia," and "Ocean Bottom," another track from The Scarring Party. It's my favorite song about writer's block at the bottom of the ocean with percussion by a typewriter.
...
Monday last week I got a promotional email for an indie rock band--not at all uncommon for an mp3blog--but the music was good, which is somewhat less common. Gentleman Caller's track "Bomb the Castle" seemed likely to be an A-B-A-B-C construction with chunky distorted guitar on the bridge, with people screaming into the mic, and it wasn't, and I liked it for it. They have other tracks up, mostly with a dreamy pop-rock vibe with countryish vocal stylings. They self-compare to Okkervil River and Rilo Kiley.
...
Secretly Canadian sent me an email about a new release from Jason Molina, and I enjoyed the track there for download, and so I'm passing it along.
...
Vindaloo, the fight song, and the response: a writer's fight song. 99/100 for that, -1 for failure to include "B.I.C."
Syl Johnson -- Concrete Reservation
Syl Johnson -- Concrete ReservationHere's Syl Johnson with a song about living in the ghetto. This isn't the maudlin Mac Davis ghetto, and Syl Johnson isn't most interested in mamas crying because they had a baby; he's more interested in mamas crying because they lost a baby, in couples fighting becaue they're jealous, and in people burning to death because there's no back door on the apartments. The vocals are, appropriately, not mournful but full of a simmering rage; the guitar snaps, the strings stab, the lyrics sting:
Here in the ghetto, it's a bad situation / Call it what you want to; it's just a concrete reservation.
Johnson's also known for his track "Is It Because I'm Black?" which I have by Johnson only in a version that drags on a bit too long for my interest, though Ken Boothe also recorded an impressive version of it.
"Concrete Reservation" is off Is It Because I'm Black?, which is also available in a pricy re-release with Dresses Too Short; or you can pick it up on the greatest hits comp Twilight and Twinight.
...
More HiFi finds: "I Am a Demon and Will Swallow Your Soul," "Olivia," and "Ocean Bottom," another track from The Scarring Party. It's my favorite song about writer's block at the bottom of the ocean with percussion by a typewriter.
...
Monday last week I got a promotional email for an indie rock band--not at all uncommon for an mp3blog--but the music was good, which is somewhat less common. Gentleman Caller's track "Bomb the Castle" seemed likely to be an A-B-A-B-C construction with chunky distorted guitar on the bridge, with people screaming into the mic, and it wasn't, and I liked it for it. They have other tracks up, mostly with a dreamy pop-rock vibe with countryish vocal stylings. They self-compare to Okkervil River and Rilo Kiley.
...
Secretly Canadian sent me an email about a new release from Jason Molina, and I enjoyed the track there for download, and so I'm passing it along.
...
Vindaloo, the fight song, and the response: a writer's fight song. 99/100 for that, -1 for failure to include "B.I.C."
Monday, July 03, 2006:
Diamond Joe, a drunken country tune with fiddle, acoustic guitar, galloping drums, and drunk musicians. A match made in heaven. Greg Nog at Metafilter nails it: This is what whisky would sound like, if whisky was music.
["Diamond Joe" @ HiFi)]
[No site for this band? Was this a one-off? Say it ain't so, Jack; say it ain't so.]
Criminal is slow, moody, deliberate work with a subdued vocal melody. The guitar cuts in with a muted intensity like a bright painful memory announcing itself in the middle of a stunned grief. The song is not for all moods, maybe, but damn is it beautfiul.
["Criminal" @ HiFi)]
[Edlundart's site]
Light On is folksy jangly acoustic pop in waltz time, with an accordion that sneaked out of City of Lost Children so it could come pick your soul up and dust it off and straighten its tie. Everyone should have a neighbor who plays accordion.
["Light On" @ HiFi)]
[No site for Chococat?]
Making Me Nervous is a bouncy electro-pop tune rivalling "Diamond Joe" in energy, except "Diamond Joe" makes me want a beer and a concert and "Making Me Nervous" makes me want to dance down the street singing badly and making an ass of myself. I've listened to this song half a dozen times trying to figure out what it is I like so much about it--is it the snap in the percussion? The ridiculous fake bassline? The distorted guitar? The driving beat? ... Frenetic says it's ironic, which is fine, but I thought I was tired of irony and apparently I'm not.
["Making Me Nervous" @ HiFi)]
[Brad Sucks' site]
No More Room in Hell is one of my favorites so far, a jaunty tune with banjo, tuba, and vaudevillian vocals, like a cross between Squirrel Nut Zippers and Triplets of Belleville. This is the happiest apocalypse I've ever heard.
["No More Room in Hell" @ HiFi)]
[The Scarring Party's site]
Metafilter Music
A new branch of the Metafilter family: as if Ask Metafilter and Metafilter Projects weren't cool enough, mathowie recently resurrected Metafilter Music. Some picks from that, then: (I'm posting these here because Matt already mentioned high bandwidth bills and I don't want to leach off his bandwidth; if you like the tracks please consider sending the original authors a message.)Diamond Joe, a drunken country tune with fiddle, acoustic guitar, galloping drums, and drunk musicians. A match made in heaven. Greg Nog at Metafilter nails it: This is what whisky would sound like, if whisky was music.
["Diamond Joe" @ HiFi)]
[No site for this band? Was this a one-off? Say it ain't so, Jack; say it ain't so.]
Criminal is slow, moody, deliberate work with a subdued vocal melody. The guitar cuts in with a muted intensity like a bright painful memory announcing itself in the middle of a stunned grief. The song is not for all moods, maybe, but damn is it beautfiul.
["Criminal" @ HiFi)]
[Edlundart's site]
Light On is folksy jangly acoustic pop in waltz time, with an accordion that sneaked out of City of Lost Children so it could come pick your soul up and dust it off and straighten its tie. Everyone should have a neighbor who plays accordion.
["Light On" @ HiFi)]
[No site for Chococat?]
Making Me Nervous is a bouncy electro-pop tune rivalling "Diamond Joe" in energy, except "Diamond Joe" makes me want a beer and a concert and "Making Me Nervous" makes me want to dance down the street singing badly and making an ass of myself. I've listened to this song half a dozen times trying to figure out what it is I like so much about it--is it the snap in the percussion? The ridiculous fake bassline? The distorted guitar? The driving beat? ... Frenetic says it's ironic, which is fine, but I thought I was tired of irony and apparently I'm not.
["Making Me Nervous" @ HiFi)]
[Brad Sucks' site]
No More Room in Hell is one of my favorites so far, a jaunty tune with banjo, tuba, and vaudevillian vocals, like a cross between Squirrel Nut Zippers and Triplets of Belleville. This is the happiest apocalypse I've ever heard.
["No More Room in Hell" @ HiFi)]
[The Scarring Party's site]
Labels: country music, dance, indie, pop, rock