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Tuesday, January 26, 2010 Duel Of The Historical Mics  I typically have minimal at most interest in projects like this, but I gotta say: Tom Caruana's Wu-Beatles effort Enter The Magical Mystery Tour is pretty fucking rad. These are not mash-ups or slight adjustments to rock tracks with rap acapellas laid overtop (ie the interesting-in-theory-but-actually-a-snoozefest Grey Album and eight million Black Album mashup records)--these are new rap beats utilizing sampled Beatles tunes matched to rap acapellas. And they are largely pretty fucking great. If you haven't heard much about this project, there's an NYTimes interview with Caruana here. Download Enter The Magical Mystery Tour here. LISTEN: Cappa-Wu-Beatles - "Slang Editorial" posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 1/26/2010 08:33:00 PM 0 comments Friday, January 08, 2010 Sometimes I Don't Know Why I Do The Things I Do JeffreyBeaumont: john just sent me this http://www.mediafire.com/?jmyhxv4myyd JeffreyBeaumont: quote: "ShrimpCracker: 1st song is legit" hotdorknobs: good god. JeffreyBeaumont: 99 problems over scarlet begonias hotdorknobs: good god. hotdorknobs: i didn't bother downloading hotdorknobs: haha JeffreyBeaumont: no, dont JeffreyBeaumont: also JeffreyBeaumont: IT'S 2010 JeffreyBeaumont: BLACK ALBUM CAME OUT SIX+ YEARS AGO JeffreyBeaumont: SERIOUSLY DUDES JeffreyBeaumont: so..... JeffreyBeaumont: "dirt off yr shoulder / fire on the mountain" JeffreyBeaumont: ok nevermind hotdorknobs: LOL @ "almost annoyingly reasonable" LISTEN: Jay-Z/Grateful Dead by Spinjunkie - "Dirt Off Your Shoulder / Fire On The Mountain" Labels: curiosities, Dead, deprarious, fucktactics, lolgore, mp3, music posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 1/08/2010 04:24:00 PM 0 comments Thursday, January 07, 2010 Been A Fan  This is, I believe, the first and probably last time I will ever write about Nirvana: For the past month I have been overcome by yet another one of my biannual Nirvana swoons, whereby I read an article about an upcoming Nirvana release and suddenly dive back into their catalog, wondering whether I might fall in love with Kurt & Co all over again. In 2002, it was the release of "You Know You're Right"; 2004, the With The Lights Out box set; 2006, Live! Tonight! Sold Out! re-release; and now this year, the Live at Reading release. It always happens. Like many men my age, I loved the shit out of Nirvana in the early to mid 90s, listening obsessively to their four studio records, and then MTV Unplugged, and then (far less so) the '96 live record From the Muddy Banks of the Wishkah. But also like many kids of that age, I was mostly interested in the hits, and so what got perhaps the most plays of all was a homemade tape I made compiling the singles/best from Nevermind, In Utero, and Incesticide, plus and "About a Girl" and "Love Buzz" from Bleach (ie, a variation of this). Despite the at-the-end-of-the-day greatness, Nirvana were a band that spent a lot of time pumping out non-poppy sonic sludge, and this meant that a lot of tunes were frequently passed over by me during the band's '91-'95 heyday (though I loved the shit out of the uncharacteristically tuneful Unplugged) Of course, as I grew older, the way I heard music changed and eventually a more developed and nuanced sense of taste and patience led me back to many of the tunes I'd previously overlooked, namely the snarly In Utero, the second--non-singles--halves of Nevermind and Incesticide (my feelings on Bleach though are still more or less the same). The first point I really remember reconnecting with Nirvana in an adult-fashion was my freshman year of college, almost immediately after getting there that fall. I had at that point had been getting heavily into indie rock for the few years prior and was no longer really giving much time to anything I'd cared about musically between ages 10-14. Nothing new Nirvana-related was released at the time, but this was in the heyday of Napster and I remember that a boy down the hall from me would blast a bootleg called Outcestide featuring lots of Nirvana I'd never even heard before$$$. At the time I generally had a policy of disavowing bootlegs for their shitty sound quality and the fact that a band may not have intended for people to hear the material~~~, Outcesticide, hearing Cobain screaming through my hall made me pick up his records and get into them all over again. I gave each of them many spins, but rising above it all was both the joy and sadness of finally understanding the shining moment that is In Utero, far and away the best thing Nirvana ever put to record. The tunes on In Utero are an astonishing mix of melody and rage like almost nothing else. Beginning with opener "Serve The Servants", the searing guitar wails of which are like the broken bit nails of bloodied fingers screeching down a chalk board--ie, magical aurality that resonates intense terror deep within one's gutheart. In Utero is a record that pummels and rarely relents; even mid-record quiet moment "Dumb" feels like a welcome*** and a momentary two and a half minute breather between devastation. When some people are down and out, they want to drown themselves in seas of blunt-force sound ala thrash or Merzbow or whatever, but when I'm on the mental shitter I want more than ever to hear my rage led by the voice of someone who understands me and feels my pain and truly there are few other records I can think of that I so significantly connect with in these kinds of moments than In Utero. From there In Utero stayed in my general disc rotation, but the rest of the catalog drifted away for the next couple years until late 2002 when the much ballyhooed "You Know You're Right" leaked to the internet and suddenly, for the first time since '96^^^a best of featuring nothing else new--bad feelings muted because once again I was connected with the great records I'd forgotten. In 2003, I began for the first time in almost ten years to care about rap music again and my thoughts went elsewhere, returning Nirvana to its place on the backburner again until Christmas 2004 when, finally, my prayers were answered and the longcoming Nirvana box With The Lights Out was released. I did not immediately pick it up though and was stunned after seeing review after review panning it as a disappointment. Bewildered, I finally got the set and discovered that my fears were confirmed--that there was in fact almost no "secret gold" to speak of. Despite the fact that With The Lights Out is well-worth a listen and filled with recordings few have heard before, the bottom line is that it was actually tremendously short on new songs. Of the 51 songs, the vast majority were either previously released b-sides, very rough demos or pre-Bleach tunes (presenting little value to me). Leaving just four actually new, previously unreleased peak-era (90-94) songs--"Old Age", "Verse Chorus Verse", "Return of the Rat", "Do Re Mi" (only a demo but worth it). This is not to say that I'd had much exposure to many of the additional b-sides and so they were still welcome to my hears, but it meant that more than half of the box amounted to poorly recorded demos and late 80s sludge. Boo. As perhaps an unintentionally ironic homage to the past, I fashioned myself a 16 track "Condensed Version" of the set boiled down to the good new songs and b-sides plus the 3 decent sounding songs from disc one I was remotely interested in ("Pen Cap Chew", "Even In His Youth", and "Token Eastern Song"). And even this, honestly is a bit of a bummer road. But while I'm describing this irony as coincidental, it also hits upon the fact that as great as Nirvana were in theory, they were tremendously overrated as an actual band that made records. Because, at the end of the day, they really didn't make that many records--just TWO great albums--Nevermind and In Utero, plus Unplugged, since it's basically completely different--and the rest is a tremendously mixed bag of random gems and forgetable filler. Incesticide has probably 8 or so great tracks and 7 toss-offs and, again, Bleach has two great tracks and a lot of promise. Some of the b-sides and outtakes are GREAT ("Sappy", "Verse Chorus Verse", "Old Age", "Do Re Mi", "Return of the Rat", and Dave Grohl's proto-Foo "Marigold@@@ namely), but the rest are fresher and cleaner versions of the forgettable early shit ("Curmudgeon", "Oh the Guilt", "I Hate Myself And Want to Die"). Which, at the end of the day, doesn't amount to a lot of quantity. But... god... the highs. Honestly. The best of this fucking band is just so good, such a precious and unique combination of power, rage, His Voice and tunefulness that few have ever approached. So much so that, outside of played-everywhere-forever "Teen Spirit" I will probably never truly tire of hearing this band. And if you could come up with some kind of ratio of "never getting sick of a band" to "amount of tunes recorded" they would probably be the King Ducks. POSTSCRIPT: What else is there left to say about Nirvana? Well, let me say a few final things about the live releases--in particular, the new Live at Reading--and what might still be unreleased. The Nirvana MTV Unplugged release is, of course, canonical--so great and significant that it is arguably as important as either In Utero or Nevermind. And if you like Nirvana, you've most definitely listened to it a million times all ready, so I won't say anything more about it. From The Muddy Banks of The Wishkah, while a solid live record, was mostly significant to me upon its release for the aforementioned release of "Spank Thru" (actually Kurt's first ever song). As having always been an "album guy", I always had mixed feelings about this release and it's up-and-down sound quality--but, it is without doubt a great and worthy record, and if you could handle the lesser fidelity, it serves as a superior single disc primer to the tame 2002 best of. I should listen to Muddy Banks again, because I haven't in years since my cd was destroyed and I'm curious what i'll think about it in light of... ... Live at Reading, the newest and possibly last (for a while) release by Nirvana of any value. While having the added value of feeling like a whole rather than a compilation of odd parts, Reading outperforms Wishkah for also being more energetic, frenetic and fun. Plus it features one more dangled carrot in the form of never-before-released "The Money Will Roll Right In"--definitely forgettable "minor Nirvana", but still noteworthy in 2010 nonetheless. In fact, the only bummer road about Reading is that, like Wishkah, it too favors album cuts over b-sides (understandable, but a disappointment to crazy people nonetheless), and that the show took place in 1992, meaning that only three cuts from In Utero appear--"Tourette's", "All Apologies" and "Dumb"--and the latter two are somewhat gestational. But seriously! If you have any space in your life or heart in 2010 for Nirvana, you should really pick this record up. And the rest? Krist Novoselic said last March that, sadly, there are no unreleased Nirvana songs left and "there aren't going to be any new Nirvana records%%%." Outcesticide and Chosen Rejects collections. A lot of the best material on both of these five and four disc sets has since been released on With The Lights Out, but have fun with the rest if you really gotta. POST-POSTSCRIPT That's pretty much it. Last I leave you with a shitload of footnotes, a handful of arbitrary "Top Five" lists and five mp3s worth checking out. Of the mp3s, I'm giving you: --two tracks from Live at Reading, including "new to you" "Money Will Roll Right In" --"Ain't It A Shame", a weird tongue-in-cheek Leadbelly cover from 1989 that is the closest Nirvana ever got to country --"All Apologies (demo)", from the Chosen Rejects comp, in an early, laid back form sounding almost like Ryan Adams (well, not really). Would go from curious to amazing were a) the lyrics actually written and b) the vox not buried in the sand. But it is what it is. --"Love Buzz", a great version from largely unreleased Peel Sessions OK. NOTES: $$$ -- It's entirely possible hearing these tunes and being surprised I didn't know anything about them is what first triggered my future obsessive desires to collect the fuck out of the detritus of any band that I ever truly loved. ~~~ -- Umm, yeah... seriously. It's hard for me to believe it as I type, but I remember those faux-righteous days so clearly. Things change, indeed. *** -- "Dumb" and In Utero closer "All Apologies" are children to Nevermind quiet counterparts "Polly" and "Something In The Way", but where each of the latter two lag with energy and sag with forced "intensity", In Utero's softer moments enrapture and possess, and "All Apologies" of course doesn't even stay quiet, as it opens up and rages for its outro chorus. ^^^ -- The live record Muddy Banks of the Wishkah was released in '96 and contained the more or less unreleased track "Spank Thru", the first and only "new" Nirvana track since In Utero. @@@ -- Curiously, you can hear an audience member shout out "Marigold" in the video version of MTV Unplugged after Kurt says "What should we play next?" Obviously this wasn't happening. FIELD STUDIES  "Suggested bass and treble positions" printed in the liner notes to In Utero. I have never before or since seen a band do this. The Five More Or Less Best "Nirvana Records" In Order Of Personal Favoritism: 1. In Utero 2. MTV Unplugged 3. Nevermind 4. Live at Reading 5. Incesticide The Five Favorite Nirvana Songs Of Jeffrey Beaumont, In An Actual Order: 1. Serve the Servants 2. Drain You 3. All Apologies 4. Molly's Lips 5. Old Age The Five Best Nirvana Songs You May Have Never Heard (All Of Which Are On The Box Set): 1. Old Age 2. Verse Chorus Verse 3. Sappy (formerly called "Verse Chorus Verse") 4. Do Re Mi 5. Return of the Rat (Wipers cover) Five RandomNotes On Nirvana I Would Like to Share: 1. In Utero is by far the best Nirvana record 2. The Butch Vig production on Nevermind is total shit and makes that record sound dated in a way that the rest of their recorded music--even Bleach--doesn't. 3. "Something In The Way" would have been more effective without the strings, and possibly even just as Kurt acoustic. 4. "Drain You" is the best song from Nevermind 5. I wish this asshole had kept his shit together because he probably could have made a few more great Nirvana records Five Nirvana Songs Available For You Now: 1. Nirvana - "Drain You", from Live at Reading 2. Nirvana - "The Money Will Roll Right in", from Live at Reading 3. Nirvana - "Ain't It A Shame", demo from Leadbelly Sessions, released on With The Lights Out 4. Nirvana - "All Apologies (demo)", bootlegged unreleased demo, from Chosen Rejects 5. Nirvana - "Love Buzz", from unreleased Peel Session 1989 Labels: heroes, loved sounds, memories, mp3, music posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 1/07/2010 09:48:00 PM 2 comments 2
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Sunday, January 03, 2010 Scattered Hearts, Old Worlds  I am listening to Bjork's "Scatterheart" now (from the at-the-time-slept-on Selmasongs, de facto soundtrack to Dancer in the Dark) and yearning for the free and easy days of 95-2001 when the Icelandic Queen made inarguably the most compelling and engaging electronic pop music out there. What happened to those days, O Cynical Wisp Of The Ever-changing Future? I liked Vespertine enough, especially in 2001, but it felt a little flat and confined even then, and was clearly the end of the line for our fairy princess. Medulla was interesting in theory but kind of something I never ever want to listen to, and while Volta was a return to form... it was only literally so, as it hit upon the successful song structures of Homogenic era Bjork without the soft-touch melodies, magic, or heart. Fuck man, this is what getting old is all about--you can't do much more with today's present in the future but hang on to the memories of the past. Three such memories below, including one you may have never before heard by Warp artists and occasional co-collaborators Plaid. LISTEN: Bjork - "Scatterheart", from Selmasongs Bjork - "New World", from Selmasongs (tear my fucking year 2000 heart apart) Plaid (f. Bjork) - "Lilith", from Not For Threes Labels: loved sounds, mp3, music, old flames posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 1/03/2010 04:45:00 AM 2 comments 2
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HIGHPOINTS OF ELECTRONIC MUSIC: "LP5"  For as long as I've loved experimental electronic music over the course of my life, I've always managed to let the triumph of melodicism stand tall as king over the dominion of Beaumont-pleasing sonicality. To break it down empirically at the feet of arguably the two most significant EEM artists of the past 20 years: when put to a test, I would always take the mischievous neo-romanticism of Aphex Twin over the formal deconstructivism of Autechre. This is not to say that I love all of Aphex Twin (or none of Autechre), but that when it came down to his best work, Aphex Twin was a man who used electronic futurism to sail his melodic explorations, whereas Autechre were men whose labors uncovered the occasional melody locked away within the cold structures of binary programming. Over the many records released throughout these two giants' respective careers, this distillation has with few exceptions held true for each, and for the most part has kept my interests aligned significantly more with the AFX camp than the other--except once, with the release in 1998 of Autechre's fifth full length unofficially titled LP5, which is the one Autechre release in their entire discography to step outside of their devotion to sonic brakhage and let the wind of melodicism take away the tunes. You have likely guessed therefore that LP5 is my favorite release by Autechre*** (though I won't necessarily argue that it's their best, as I know my opinion on them is quite different than the small handful of nerds who give a shit about them), and choosing a favorite cut from it is not an easy task, as there are a number of standouts. Key among them are schizophrenic album opener "Acroyear2", intellectual "Corc", the soft-but-pounding "Rae", and "Fold4, Wrap5", the warmest and most accessible Autechre tracks ever. But perhaps tops among them all is penultimate number "Arch Carrier", which is a return to the skittery iso-melodicism of "Acroyear2" but overcast by a dark, nagging sense of dread. Every single time I hear "Arch Carrier" it slays me, partially because of the impact it carries in usually having followed a relatively exhausting hour of electronic experimentation, but also because its melody and beat are strong enough to grab me by the throat even on their own. Below are mp3s for "Arch Carrier", "Acroyear2" and "Rae", plus "Leterel", a precursor of sorts from the '95 record Tri Repetae. And then finally I've thrown in Aphex's "IZ-US", from the Come to Daddy EP released the same year as LP5. If you want to know what the highpoints of experimental electronic music in the late 90s were, the next five tracks are pretty good place to start. NOTES: *** - I've also written previously about the excellence of 95's Garbage EP LISTEN: Autechre - "Arch Carrier", from LP5 (1998) Autechre - "Acroyear2", from LP5 (1998) Autechre - "Rae", from LP5 (1998) Also: Autechre - "Leterel", from Tri Repetae (1998) Aphex Twin - "IZ-US", from I Care Because You Do (1998) Labels: loved sounds, Maple Syrup Delights, mp3, music posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 1/03/2010 03:38:00 AM 0 comments Saturday, January 02, 2010 Backwatering  "Childhood Ghosts I: School". Larger here. For whatever reason this afternoon I became possessed with the idea that I needed to listen to the Meat Puppets and so I pulled out No Strings Attached, the "best of" covering their SST years (read: pre-mainstream entry). In listening to No Strings, I was reminded of a conversation I had a few years back with a friend about why the Meat Puppets weren't included as one of the thirteen hallowed bands featured in Michael Azerrad's seminal Our Band Could Be Your Life (note: if you haven't read this shit, you really should read this shit). He felt their exclusion was surprising given their influential melding of punk and country and their proximity to and relationship with so many of the other bands in this book. My argument more or less came down to, "Well... for whatever reason, I never really want to listen to these guys once I put their records on..." Which probably isn't fair: my ears don't necessarily mean shit, and many regard the second MP record II to be among the canonical 80s post-hardcore records--a record which, in addition to being "important", most famously features three songs chosen as covers by Nirvana for their MTV Unplugged session--"Lake of Fire", "Plateau", and "Oh, Me"--with even Puppeteers Curt and Cris Kirkwood assisting. But, well, Kurt's versions of all three cuts are superior to the originals, and the rest of II... I dunno. Just plays like the kind of thing that looks better on paper than in product. Weirdly though, the one Meat Puppets track I've ever held dear to my heart isn't even on No Strings Attached, but instead came after SST and after Nirvana--the '94 single "Backwater" off second major label effort Too High To Die. Some of you may remember "Backwater", as it reached #2 on the "Modern Rock" charts and achieved a certain degree of popularity amongst grunge-leaning teens in the mid-90s, offering a tuneful and even bouncy blend of early 90s standard riffs with a bit of J Mascis-lite guitar thrown in. It also sounds almost nothing like anything on No Strings (covering the band up to 1990) and, honestly, like an entirely different band than the squawking stone-grags who performed "Lake of Fire". And I can't even say that it's a Lost & Forgotten Great Song, because it isn't, but I wanted to hear it today and so there you go. Here it is, in fact: LISTEN: Meat Puppets - "Backwater", from Too High To Die Meat Puppets - "Lake of Fire", from II And of course, Nirvana doing "Oh, Me" from MTV Unplugged, with a little help from Cris and Curt Kirkwood: posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 1/02/2010 01:47:00 AM 0 comments Monday, December 28, 2009 The Lunatic Is Again On The Prowl  Every once in a while do questionable things to remind me why I shouldn't make decisions late at night. The most recent particular such incident occurred last week in the wee hours before heading off on the upstate adventure with Odd Job Jaffe, where I decided that it might be worth my time to purchase the just-released Flaming Lips cover of Dark Side of the Moon. Nope. It seemed to me like it might actually be cool in theory (at least to the me of 10 years ago--better than Phish covering them on 11/2/98 anyway), though I can understand how it wouldn't even seem cool in theory to many of you. However, it sadly just isn't really worth any ears--much like Beck's recent attempts to cover classic records with his Beck & Friends Record Club project (which are, by the way, worth checking out nonetheless). I picked out three songs for your "listening pleasure"--Dark Side's concluding suite "Brain Damage>Eclipse", the sweetest and most pleasurable part of the record, and "Great Gig In The Sky", featuring Peaches on full-throated scream-mongering. The first choice is obvious enough--while much of Dark Side is more or less atmosphere working to conjure sonic ambiance, "Brain Damage>Eclipse" are just two relatively straightforward pop tunes. Wayne Coyne makes this salient and I think often underlooked point on the record: "From a musician's stance... it's not very long. It's only nine songs and some are reprisals of the same theme over and over." Most of us never put much thought into the depth of the record while getting geeking out to it in dark bedrooms or upstate forests, but it's really a pretty short little number with only a couple of actual tunes. The other track I'm offering is a bit more of a head-scratcher, given that "Great Gig In the Sky" is generally considered by many as the one track on the original record that most of us think we could do without. As a sort of non-Floyd number featuring a swirling instrumental underneath an opera singer more or less belting her heart out to the end of a nonsense world, it's inclusion on the record always seemed a little weird--which I think is why, in some ways, "Gig" ends up surprisingly as the most interesting cover here. Bringing in Peaches was actually an inspired choice, as a) hearing Coyne wah-wah his way through this one would have been about one tick less annoying than hearing Jon Fishman wail and vac his way through it, and b) she obviously brings something different and modern to the fold outside of the psych-drugs-haze Floyd and the Lips. I'm not suggesting that I would try to convince any haters that this is worth their time, but for any of us who wanted this record to work, it's definitely worth a listen. On this point though, strangely enough most of the other tracks on this record are pegged as "Featuring Henry Rollins"-- but for the life of me I can't really tell what exactly his contribution is to all of this. Most of the leads sound like Wayne Coyne (or else at least not like Henry Rollins), but am I mishearing? All I can make out of the former Black Flag singer are some moments where I hear a speaking voice that appears to be his. It could have been interesting had Rollins been screaming all over this disc, but the end product turns out to be more of a non-event. In the end... this record would be more interesting were it given away for free. Instead, I feel slightly like a bozo for having given them any dollars (especially when I haven't even bought or heard the most recent Lips record Embryonic, which is actually supposed to be pretty good). LISTEN: Flaming Lips ft. Henry Rollins - "Brain Damage", from Dark Side of the Moon Flaming Lips ft. Henry Rollins - "Eclipse", from Dark Side of the Moon Flaming Lips ft. Peaches - "Great Gig In The Sky", from Dark Side of the Moon And one bonus: the always fantastic "Turn It On", from the Lips's '94 poptasmagoria, Transmissions From The Satellite Heart: Flaming Lips - "Turn It On", from Transmissions From The Satellite Heart Labels: fucktactics, mp3, music, old flames posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 12/28/2009 02:02:00 PM 0 comments Sunday, December 20, 2009 A Gift of Snow Days and Stormy Weather  5 AM at the Home of Beaumont and Doorknobs on 20 December 2009 Today we had our first real snow and it was pretty glorious. The forecast said, "Heavy heavy" but by 6pm the downfall had been pretty light and Alex and I were smirking over much ado about nothing. As you can see from above--wrong! At 9 we left the house for a birthday party in Astoria and by the time we got off the subway 45 minutes later it was insane--many many inches of snow, falling hard and fast. And then we got to the party and there was almost literally no one there--just the two best friends of the honoree who'd probably be disowned for not showing up. Good times. I'm also on vacation now for the next two weeks, which is absolutely amazing. Life, lived and loved. As a way of imparting some winter cheer to you all, I thought I would post my holiday mix I made this year as part of the YSI Nerdcore Society I belong to with some dude friends from college. Last year we began a tradition of doing a Secret Santa-style mix exchange and it went so well that we thought we'd pick it up again. The mix I made was for my pure dirtcore friend Pas-D aka Jerkevan Crocus. Please enjoy this mix here now: Holiday Mix 2009 - Beach Side Drainage Tracklist below. Love life! Labels: mp3, music, quicksnaps posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 12/20/2009 05:14:00 AM 1 comments Saturday, November 28, 2009 Suburban Recordings  "Valleyview Elementary Hoop" I have loved the shit out of New Jersey band Real Estate since Alex Doorknobs and I first saw/heard them on a bill with Nodzzz and Wavves in early 2009. and their track "Suburban Beverage" from an eponymous 7", is without doubt on my list of the Ten Songs That Touched Me Good In 2009. (I meant all summer to pen a great ode to "Suburban Beverage" but never seem to have gotten around to it, only denoting my additional appreciation for its b-side "Old Folks" in a post about my grandfather.) I have been primed for more from these dudes for a long time coming. And now, finally, their full-length is here and it's better than I'd even hoped (and you can get it here). Before I say anything further, let me reiterate the most important point I could make about Real Estate: great record, and I encourage you to buy it and fall in love. Because as good as "Sub Bev" and "Fake Blues" (summer follow-up) are, I have fallen even harder for "Beach Comber", which might be the most subtly awesome pop song of 2009 by anyone, and, of course, the rest of the record ain't far behind. I have to say: despite me liking Real Estate almost instantly, I've found myself somewhat surprised at their fast-growing popularity. Obviously my tastes are not so esoteric or obscurantist that my "love" for Real Estate might imply that they don't have something valuable to offer a greater public, but in my brain their tunes fit into a category of bands I have always seen as offering limited appeal to a main-er audience on the lookout for hooks, noise, aggression, or bounce. To my ears, Real Estate have little of this in the tunes; their music is largely made up of loping, hookless excerpts of noodly, spindly, circular guitar riffs that don't sound like they're ever quite supposed to go anywhere. In listening to this record nonstop the past week, I am beginning to think that part of why I feel this way about them is because the production feels not just "lo-fi" but straight-up amateur. The drumming is for sure recorded primitively and sloppily, but i think it's the guitar really that gets me: it sounds almost specifically unmixed and unproduced--so that ultimately their tunes literally sound like a four track recording of four dudes playing together in a garage, with not a knobtwitch of mix adjustment. I know that this in general is a definition of amateurish lo-fi tuneage, but i think the tipping point for me then becomes the way these recording techniques run in contrast to the type of music they play. The music of Real Estate is very much in line with a history of slinky, shimmering, sleepy surf and western mavens of yore--but it just feels like what sets Real Estate apart from their varied antecedents is this not primitivism but amateurism.... or something. Listen to the clear-ringing lines in "Beach Comber," the sludgy guit-murk of "Suburban Beverage", or, most hilariously, the drumming on "Fake Blues" (hilariously shitty sounding) and hopefully you'll get a sense of what I'm saying--it's rare you hear "hot tracks" sound so poorly recorded, especially in a way that isn't part of some forced conscious aesthetic like the mock 50s shitpunk of Vivian Girls and "we don't know much" slapdash of Beat Happening. Right?...? I dunno, I guess. I'm grasping at straws, really, and making points that aren't even important. I love this band, and I love this record, and every time I listen to it, I love both band and record more. But there's something strange and everyman about it that makes me feel weird, and I can't shake it. Ultimately I guess I'll just keep listening.  CD copy included with Suburban Beverage 7"--very pro LISTEN: Real Estate - "Beach Comber", from Real Estate Real Estate - "Fake Blues", from Real Estate Real Estate - "Suburban Beverage", from Real Estate Labels: loved sounds, mp3, music posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 11/28/2009 05:38:00 PM 0 comments Friday, November 27, 2009 His Name Is... A few things Wayne for you all. First: above is the trailer for the upcoming Lil' Wayne documentary, the exact details of which (including release date) I'm not very familiar, but which I was able view in its entirety last weekend. I'm not sure that anyone right now is arguing the need for such a film, but I was surprised how compelling it was and how much I wasn't ready for it to be over when it ended. The number one thing about the man, above and beyond, is that he's no dope who lucked into fame by brashness and circumstance--Wayne is, without doubt, a truly creative spirit with the kind of ever-burbling brain from which ideas constantly spring out. I'm a person who generally dislikes docu-bios and biopics as concepts, for the sake of my frustration at the idea of summarizing hours, days or years into 90-120 minutes, and as such I'm inherently dismissive of any ideas posited on characters displayed in such ventures.... but all of which is to say that the Wayne of the World here is one who anyone should be able to see and take interest in. I won't give much away, but he certainly comes off not as a rapper but as a wordgenius whose life has collided with the world of rap. And if that ain't interesting to you, then it ain't. ------------ On possibly a more exciting Wayne front though, the Lil' Master has finally released a mixtape worthy of the cream of his "tween-Carter" 2007-08 tapes Dedication 2 and Da Drought 3: and he calls it No Ceilings and you can get it here. Many of you have already heard and rejoiced in this tape, and I'll join you there, as it's for sure a "return to form". I do have to offer a little skepticism and say that I don't think i'd call No Ceilings amazing, but it's definitely good, and refreshing to know that he hasn't bought too much yet into the "Prom Queen" crossover shit he put out earlier this year. But speaking of crossover appeal, one track on No Ceilings that has sort of stuck in my craw in an embarrassing way is the late addition not-titular cut "I Got No Ceilings", a feel-good pop hit that takes the instrumental from--seriously--the Black Eyed Peas' "I Gotta Feeling". I knew the moment my ears took in this track that I would probably feel guilty once I found out the source, but it didn't stop me from experiencing an immediate swell of, "Wow!" as I for the first time heard Lil' Wayne delivering on the potentiality of candy pop-rap in a way I'd never quite imagined... which, when combined with his ability to go big in a more or less non-trad rap way with the emo-darkness "Shoot Me Down", makes me believe that it is entirely possible that he's got a quality post-rap record in him providing that he works with the right folks (ie, people with taste and a sense for true hooks). On some level, this is the same point emphasized by the striking power of his best mixtapes when compared to his released efforts: that Wayne goes from Rapping to Killing Shit when his generally-fantastic words are combined at last with truly A-level (ie, non-Mannie Fresh) beats. It kills me a little that "Lollipop" is the biggest hit Wayne has had yet as it simply emphasizes the dearth of quality pop-worthy beats he's had on his officially released output. Here's to the future though... LISTEN: Lil Wayne - "I Got No Ceilings", from No Ceilings mixtape ------------ Finally, I've been hard at work on putting together a Wayne "best of" compilation for a friend, and in that spirit, below are my five favorite Weezy tracks, in no particular order. There are obviously way more than five great hits, but these I think are the ones that I'll put on if I have time to just put on one song before leaving the house, to tie my shoes, to go into a business meeting, etc. Stand alone and unfuckwithable. Jeffrey Beaumont's Five Favorite Lil' Wayne Tracks (in no actual order): 1. "I'm Me", from The Leak EP 2. "Off The Docks", from Lil Weezy Ana mixtape 3. "You Ain't Got Nuthin' On Me", from Tha Carter III 4. "My Name Is...", unreleased 5. "Shoot Me Down", from Tha Carter III Labels: Lil Wayne, loved sounds, mp3, music, random lists, rap posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 11/27/2009 02:05:00 AM 1 comments Friday, October 30, 2009 Gasping For Air  When it's 8:15pm and you're still at work, there isn't much more than can bring you comfort than the pseudo-nostalgia of mid 90s British tuneage. LISTEN: Oasis - "Some Might Say", from (What's The Story) Morning Glory? Labels: British Comforts (It's Not The Food), England, mp3, music posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 10/30/2009 08:12:00 PM 0 comments Wednesday, October 28, 2009 Significant Others Sustain from Greg King on Vimeo (featuring music by the Rachel's). I love and will always love Rachel's forever. I have just managed to come across mp3s of two not really available Rachel's tracks that I've been trying to nab forever. You may remember a while back that I was searching desperately for a copy of the obscure cd-r Significant Others, more or less the last undiscovered puzzle piece to my Rachel's obsession. Sadly, I still haven't been able to track it down--but I do now have its first track. The other track here is a Rachel's penned tune from director Greg King's film Rotating Mirror, featuring a score done entirely by members of the Rachel's. Enjoy! LISTEN/DOWNLOAD:
Labels: curiosities, loved sounds, mp3, music, Rachel's, rare posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 10/28/2009 01:47:00 AM 0 comments Tuesday, October 20, 2009 Standard Modest Mouse Dry Ice Wasteland  Original available here. At some point I will put up a choice Modest Mouse mix (only pre '01 tunes, obv!), but in follow-up to yesterday's post of Isaac & Co., here are a few choice tracks that always hit most significantly upon the mood I've described: LISTEN: Modest Mouse - "Night On The Sun", from Night On The Sun EP (diff than Parlour version) Modest Mouse - "Tundra/Desert", from Interstate 8 EP Modest Mouse - "Grey Ice Water", from Building Nothing Out of Something Labels: Modest Mouse, mp3, music posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 10/20/2009 01:27:00 AM 0 comments Monday, October 19, 2009 Going to the Badlands  Original here courtesy of Mike Blanchette. These lovable bros never quite did the things I wanted them to do to get their career off the ground and out of the Albany Capital region (despite Ezra and Hannah's begging and pleading), but the now-defunct Kamikaze Hearts are one of the great bands that never were and I will live until I die sharing word about their impressive offerings to the world. There are many many great Hearts tracks worth collecting, but "Badlands", one of their later songs that never appeared on any kind of official release, is definitely in my top 5. It seems likely or possible that I've posted this track already in the past, but I couldn't seem to find it, so here it is again if so. I had a particular time with this in June 2006 when Doorknobs, Ice Princess and I were about to embark on an ill-fated trip to the Badlands that unfortunately was aborted and sent us to north peninsula Michigan (probably don't have to tell you that this wasn't quite a suitable replacement). At some point in my life I hope to travel there, playing this song along the way, and eventually find a nice patch of dirt and write the name "MATTHEW LOICANO" in the dirt while I fire up a cigarette and throw my fists into the sky in hopes I just might commune with the God I fear is permanently incommunicado. LISTEN: The Kamikaze Hearts - "Badlands", from WOXY session Labels: Kamikaze Hearts, loved sounds, mp3, music, My Love Of The Imaginary West posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 10/19/2009 06:24:00 PM 1 comments Saturday, October 17, 2009 Teenage FBI There are few things in life I enjoy more than finding complementary songs to string together into hourlong brain soundtracks, and lately I've been thoroughly engrossed in yet another semi-annual push to make mixes for friends and myself. While I fully intend to get around to making those available here (giving said parties time to enjoy the mixes on their own first), for the time being I thought I'd go through the vault and add a few mixes from the past year. This one is called Teenage FBI, and was made for a good friend last summer while she was away in China. Enjoy. And if you're interested, see other Slang Editorial / Hyperliving mixes here.  Mix: Teenage FBI download here posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 10/17/2009 12:33:00 PM 1 comments 1
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Thursday, October 15, 2009 SIR, CAN YOU GET THAT LIGHT OUT MY EYE ITS BLOCKIN MA SIGHT! [UPDATE]  Today, I was sent this nugget of God-kissed Heaven from both Alex Doorknobs and Jayson, who both knew a Beaumont-FOREVER jam when they hear one. hotdoorknobs: the new gucci mane song w/big boi is fucking amazing hotdoorknobs: you will love it jaychampvinyl: we were actually just talking about this today jaychampvinyl: we both agreed it was part of Jeffrey Beaumont's life soundtrack Either way, it's nice to know i've got my own personal listeners out there. Or that i'm that hilariously predictable. The short and easy write-up you'll probably hear about "Shine Blockas" (yes, weird, 'tard name) is "Intl Players Anthem Pt II", which only does it justice in the sense of providing a nice little totally unfuckwithable reference point, which is probably more bad than good since more or less no rap song in the world can bathe in the same pool as "Players Anthem". That said: wow. This track is just fucking great, and calling it a "party jam" does both song and beat a disservice, as it is goes well beyond the "let's have a hedonistic ball for three minutes and not worry about what comes after," and straight into, "You best let this track unfold gentle and watch the way it will flutter gently in and out of the deepest recesses of your mind." Yes, I am referring to a track that Gucci Mane appears on. Part of what makes this track so good I think is the way the beat steps out of "str8 rapz land" (not a real place) and heads toward "delighting in fine musics of the world." The very first thing I thought upon hearing it was, "Wow, Avalanches." My lede here said "God-kissed," but I could have more specific by describing the beat as a "sun-swirled Creator tonguebath", in the exact same way that you felt the first time you listened to "Since I Left You": joyful, triumphant yet curious, loving the possibilities of life that you may not yet have discovered. I've listened to it seven times already since I received this afternoon and I'm looking forward to listening to it about seventy-five times more before 2009 is out. Holla post-summer rhythmic satisfaction. LISTEN: Big Boi f. Gucci Mane - "Shine Blockas", from upcoming Big Boi album posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 10/15/2009 06:58:00 PM 0 comments Wednesday, October 14, 2009 Down By The Playing Fields, Someone Sets A Car On Fire  There's something about listening to mid 90s British pop music that makes me nostalgic for a bittersweetly happy time in my life that never even existed. LISTEN: Pulp - "Mile End", from Second Class and Trainspotting OST Labels: England, memories, mp3, music posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 10/14/2009 01:33:00 PM 2 comments 2
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Thursday, October 08, 2009 The Sweetest Sounding Jerk  I had the good fortune last month of seeing up-and-coming band The Drums play at InSound's anniversary party and, wow, was I impressed. Though these guys have been around for only a few months (during which time people have blogged the shit out of them), they have already perfected a pretty spot-on warmvibes-meets-80s-via-Cure/Wham/etc that is cool and rather delightful. Much like ice cream, in fact. At the point when I saw them, I hadn't yet heard a note of their music, but there was one particular moment in the show where things just really went to another level and now, after having downloaded their new EP (the first release by the band), I know that that moment was during the song "Don't Be a Jerk, Jonny". This song carries all the good feeling of all six Drums songs, but in particular the cooing female back-up vox and singer Jonathan Pierce's response to them chilled my bones, and the bridge breakdown gives a positively life-affirming toe-tapping straight-out-of-a-John-Hughes-movie jump on a fucking table YES! that just brings me to climax. And while this song sounds great on record, I was stunned at the way live they brought the volume and energy way up and the roof therefore completely off. Most folks have cited "Let's Go Surfing" as the touchstone point of the band but I don't think it has anything on the majesty of "Jonny". I can see a variety of ways in which I will either tire of this band or else they might fail to do anything else worthy, but for now I'm excited. I have taken the bait and wait in bated breath for what comes next. Also great: "Make You Mine" (really really great) and "Submarine" LISTEN: The Drums - "Don't Be a Jerk, Jonny", from Summertime! EP posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 10/08/2009 05:51:00 PM 1 comments 1
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Wednesday, October 07, 2009 Facing The Day  The inestimable Bobby Allyn, always face-up even when he's face-down: August 2009. Larger size here. It's just one of those days where the blood is pumping and action is happening all around you. And what better way to increase circulation of those red and white cells than to pump one of the all-time great (albeit hilariously gaytastic) New Order songs, the concluding number from their best record: "Face Up", from 1985's Low-life. Someday I'll write some more about my relationship with New Order (and their best song "Temptation", one of the ten greatest songs of the 80s), but for now just enjoy this sweet pop good-bye, which is kind of like a low-powered but equally gay version of "Bizarre Love Triangle". LISTEN: New Order - "Face Up", from Low-life Labels: mp3, music, plans, quicksnaps posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 10/07/2009 12:19:00 PM 0 comments Saturday, October 03, 2009 The BJM (REVISED)  It's 5:45am. I just woke up from being asleep on the couch and, on my way to my bed, decided that it would be a reasonable time to sit down and watch DIG!, the documentary by Ondi Timoner about The Brian Jonestown Massacre and--incidentally, really--The Dandy Warhols. It's screening this week as part of Pitchfork's more or less rad One Week Only series, and I implore you absolutely to check it out. I've known about this doc for many years but had never gotten around to watching it because I'd always been disinterested in the Dandy Warhols and knew little about The BJM (other than that they played vaguely psychedelic garage rock). Now though, after watching it, holy lord am I a believer (though I'm still entirely disinterested in the Dandy Warhols). Which is a testament not just to the immense talent of band and Anton Newcombe as a songwriter, but to the excellent work by Timoner in fashioning this once-in-a-lifetime story into a gripping and concise treatise on music, art, and making or breaking it in an art world not run by artists. The thing I'll say about the film and the band is that--while perhaps this opinion is strictly the gift of hindsight--I'm a little bit bewildered by how convinced so many people seemed to be about the "certainty" over the fact that The BJM were destined for some kind of stardom. A point is made by Anton and others later on in the film that by the early 2000s, many bands achieving popularity like the White Stripes were just traveling a road the BJM had traveled since the early 90s. The point is entirely true and hints at perhaps the real reason the band never took off. Beyond any of the craziness and unpredictability of its members (especially Anton, obviously), I am struck mostly by the thought that in the mid to late 90s (96-2000), there was almost no popular*** music being made that sounded anything like the raucous throwback sound of the BJM. That period in mainstream music coincides precisely a stretch some of the tamest and poppiest mainstream tunes dominating the charts, and there appeared at the time to be little room for any kind of band that wasn't warm, clean and/or completely straight. Most pop offerings were either rap or the boy band variety, and the harder rock offerings were of the blandest, faceless arena rock variety (Creed, POD, etc) or the most soul-crushing uberclean rap-rock (Limp Bizkit, Korn, etc). I just basically don't get how ANYONE heard the BJM's loose, wild, uber-retro 60s sounds and thought, "These guys are awesome and are gonna be a sure hit". By 2001 or so the landscape had changed entirely, but by then the crazy combustible commune of BJM had broken apart and, just as importantly, were no longer pumping out two to three records a year. And now Anton is mostly just footnote made popular by a not-widely seen documentary depicting him as a crazed, drug-addicted madman. Last thoughts: In the last six hours I've downloaded three of their records: Take It From The Man$, Give It Back, and Their Satanic Majesties' Second Request, and I'm completely blown away by their total awesomeness (and equally stunned by the fact I've made it to 2009 without giving these guys a real listen). Watch the film and, most importantly, pick up the records. NOTES: *** -- By "popular" I mean record-selling success, not "of the popular form". $$$$ -- One aside on this record: the track "Monkey Puzzle" sounds exactly like the blue-print for Greg Cartwright's alcohol-soaked 60s southern soul blues. Like, EXACTLY. LISTEN/WATCH: Brian Jonestown Massacre - "(David Bowie I Love You) Since I Was Six", from Take It From The Man Brian Jonestown Massacre - "Not If You Were The Last Dandy On Earth", from Give It Back Brian Jonestown Massacre - "All Around You", Their Satanic Majesties' Second Request Labels: BJM, la cine, mp3, music, videos posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 10/03/2009 05:20:00 AM 0 comments Friday, October 02, 2009 On My Own  "A Strangely Isolated Place", by Marcelo Halmenschlager. Available here. I'm always fascinated by the ways and circumstances in which people decide to share private, sensitive information with others. Sometimes it's standing up on national television and sometimes it's just blurting out thoughts to whichever stranger happens to be nearby... Right now I'm at a cafe near my home waiting for a waffle and I'm overhearing a barista telling a woman he clearly doesn't know well about how on Monday he has to go to jail for not paying child-support. The calmness with which he's retelling his story, with laughter and sighs even, is jarring almost to the point of belying the absolute tone of gentle sincerity in his voice. There is no doubt that he carries an weary uneasiness about himself, but also a resigned steadiness against the acknowledgement of his plight and a true expression of a man offering some kind of honesty to the world. I do not know this man, nor have I ever seen him before, but right now all I can think about is how sad I am that this has happened to him and how fucked everything is and how I'm sure he's been wronged in some grave way, if only by a world that couldn't possibly ever work out for him. I don't honestly know of course if he is Guilty--or even guilty--of crimes deserving of the punishment he's about to receive. Some people are slick, and others so delusional of their relationship to the world as to be unforgivably irresponsible to themselves and those around them. But I know that for whatever reason, my heart goes out to this poor stranger, and I wish that I could hold him and let him know that everything will be all right.* --- ...Or sometimes it's just through a hardly read, mostly unknown-enough-to-not-even-exist blog. As a semi-tangential digression, I repeat this last sentence on the barista to myself and recognize the degree to which my feelings about him speak to my own plight, as a man (historically) far more interested in caring for and assisting others than himself. I've spoken at length recently about possibly adding a canine to my life, and in response a close friend encouraged me to do so because--while admitting that he would never feel this way about most people--he was convinced that being responsible for a dog's well-being would cause me to in turn take better care of myself. How does one take on this duality of love and neglect? It's unfortunately all too easy to see how many people are able to care for themselves and neglect those around them, but it's a bit harder and more complicated to understand the reverse. For me this distinction was rooted for a long time in a lack of self-confidence and self-definition--summarized best by saying that I did not know how to "dare to dream"--which was significant enough that even in the absence of being able to "help others" I didn't know what to do with myself. Now I finally seem to have made enough strides to have figured out my identity and get a better sense about the things that I feel I want and need in my life... but somehow the emptiness of Who Am I? has been replaced by a strange and steely I Live To Live that is somehow just as resultantly neglectful. I have been thinking quite a bit about this topic since Wednesday evening, when some friends were over and, through the course of many cigarettes and glasses of wine, we somehow touched on the topic of death and the fear of dying. "I just couldn't do ___," said one friend, "I am just too afraid of the possibility of death to let it go like that." And then another followed by saying, "I am afraid of a lot of things, of course. But in fact, what I really fear is that I might get to a point where I no longer fear death, which is the most terrifying idea of them all." But I, as an insouciant late-twenty something, arrogant in his beliefs in the great possibilities of the world, firmly stated that "I do not fear death at all. I am ready to walk out my door right now and be struck down forever, if that is what is to be." Despite my occasionally macabre attitude and the name of my online "handle", I do not believe that tossing around statements like these are casual (or forceful) acts of nihilism, nor are they a sign of some kind of degradation of my cares for the world or the value of my life. It's really just so simple that despite the many things in life I have been afraid of, I don't really know how to fear death. I have spent far too much time and energy in my life anxiety-ridden dwelling on overimagined outcomes of seemingly very real sequences of possibility, and the ways these outcomes could represent the crumbling of a life I'd worked hard to put together for myself. Largely these digressions into fear-world produced, at best, wasted hours or days or weeks, and at worst led to legitimately self-destructive behavior that actively brought on an unnecessary reality of the very fears I had lost sleep over wanting to avoid. Luckily I am largely past this kind of brain-tracking now, but only as long as I am on-guard against their attacks and always keeping in mind that for me, the wolf will always be at the door. BUT: as destructive and unhelpful as those fears always were, at least they were rooted in some kind of understanding of a possibility that, however remote it may have been, was an extrapolation of the potential of me understanding the way things might someday be. In contrast, thoughts on death, however, bring no sensation of the sort--to die would be not to live, which would mean the end of outcomes and possibilities; if I am dead, then there can be no painful reactions, no terrible consequences to deal with. Death means [STATIC NOISE], [silence]. All of which is to say that in my years of confusion and non-happiness, I have gained an acute understanding of what it means to fear the outcome of being alive and living badly, and so the thought of living in fear of no longer being able to feel seems almost laughable. As strange as it may sound, all of this is actually a good thing, I think. I spent a solid 15 years of adolescence and early adulthood incapacitated by my anxieties over what could possibly torture me while being alive (situational irony alert), and now that I am free of those bounds, the idea of being tortured by nothing is just a conversational "whatever" (... or maybe not, judging by the length of this post). Still... to bring it back to my earlier thread: I know that there is a connection between not fearing death and not taking good enough care of myself, and I do think the root lies in the continuing to be true fact that I just don't know what the fuck I'm doing with myself. I'm fairly convinced that I've made important changes to put myself on a good path, and that not being preoccupied with life-constricting generalized anxiety is an important measure of progress to hold onto right now... but at some point not far down the road I know it will be time to take another couple of steps, and I'm sensing that that time is steadily approaching. Perhaps with a little more concrete understanding of not just who I am but what I want, perhaps then I will worry a little bit more about ceasing to exist. And frankly, I don't think a dog is going to be much of a savior here--I just need to keep looking out, looking within, and experiencing life on a day-by-day basis. LISTEN: Ulrich Schnauss - "On My Own", from A Strangely Isolated Place## Nina Simone - "Isn't It A Pity", from Emergency Ward%%% Gogol Bordello - "Through The Roof N' Underground", from Multi Kontra Culti$$$$ Brian Eno - "An Ending (Ascent)", from Apollo: Atmospheres and Soundtracks^^^^^ NOTES: * -- Trust me, I know that most likely this is the last thing he needs right now. ## -- Someday I hope to get around to writing about this record, one of the warmest and strangest pieces of electronic music I've heard. My associations with this record are deeply intertwined with my real-life goings-on at the time when I picked it up in spring 2003 (Carmiel, where are you?), but other no record I've ever heard so closely resembles the humid cloud-must of a waking-life fever dream. %%% -- Yes, I called on this one once before already. And I will certainly do so again at some point. $$$$ -- I discovered this tremendously sweet little curio of a song as a backdrop to a quirky and mediocre-but-still-interesting indie film called Wristcutters: A Love Story. Though flawed in all sorts of ways, there was still a nice spirit of light "c'est la vie, and so it goes" that I appreciated tremendously and which this song represents precisely. ^^^^^ -- This is literally the endpoint of all ambient (not ambient) music. Nothing there could ever possibly get better that this. Labels: BEAUMONT, JB screeds, mp3, plans, quickthoughts, thoughts posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 10/02/2009 11:52:00 PM 0 comments Wednesday, September 30, 2009 Sounds Of The Road  Shot from upcoming film of The Road, starring Viggo Mortensen Continuing a bit on the Calexico tip, I discovered today this great interview between writer Howard Wolfson and Calexico singer/songwriter Joey Burns. Burns is loose and thoughtful throughout, and the whole thing is worth a read, but I was interested (though entirely unsurprised) to see Burns reference the writing of Cormac McCarthy as a key inspiration for the Tucson-based band's music: There’s a history [in the Southwest] which I find really exciting and it’s probably a boring thing to talk about but...it’s had this really interesting historical crossroads, which is if you’re a fan of Cormac McCarthy – it really resonates with some of his themes. Blood Meridian and "The Crossing", the Border Trilogy. When I moved here, I picked those books up and then I just loved the fact that some of his stories are more modern and so even though there are horses involved and traveling out in the desert, it still stems from or weaves through modern cities or towns. For me, when I moved here, I was just fascinated with all of this history and culture and character coming together. And it just - more so than anything, it just inspired us to dig into old vinyl records, old instruments, make sounds. Because we’ve been traveling over the years, we kind of bring that different mindsets from overseas back home here and you see there are more similarities than not. Hearing a connection between the sparse southwestern road music of Calexico and the bleak spaces in McCarthy's writing is pretty much a "Duh!", but I still enjoy the idea of musicians verbalizing the way that books and words influence the way they create sounds. Also, it goes a little deeper: adding to it all is a nifty column from Portland's great Powell's Books on "Calexico's Literary Influences". Make sure to read this one as well. And of course, LISTEN: Calexico - "Frontera", from The Black Light Calexico - "Waitomo", from Tool Box tour album Calexico - "Glowing Heart of the World", from Roadmap tour EP (sorry, to come soon!) Labels: books, calexico, mp3, music, My Love Of The Imaginary West, quickthoughts posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 9/30/2009 11:57:00 AM 0 comments Tuesday, September 29, 2009 Perhaps This Is Part Of The Folly Of Youth, But I Can't Foresee A Point When I Might No Longer Want To Listen To Calexico LISTEN: Calexico - "The Road Back", from Tool Box tour release The repeating American LOVE America Twang refrain beginning at 0:50 just fucking kills me to everlasting death, like driving a stake of "America Forever" into my heart. This six second snippet is just a weird kind of inexplicable brain completion. Bury me now. Which reminds me that someday soon a lengthy Calexico post has gotta be due.... posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 9/29/2009 01:19:00 PM 0 comments Monday, September 28, 2009 One Anecdote Testifying As To Why Bank of America (Like All Banks) Is Fucking Awful  [WARNING: This is one of those terrifyingly long Beaumont posts (tagged hereafter as "JB screeds"). And actually, it's two long stories, but well, I don't feel like separating them from one another. So, yes. Sorry?] PART I: Bank of America, I Would Like To Completely Obliterate You And Demand That You Take Reverse TARP-Funding After a wonderful and lengthy (but not long enough) visit, last week my visitor is now gone, off to see more of the world on her long, strange world tour--seriously, her voyage will last SEVENTY-SEVEN DAYS and is touching down on six countries on three continents--but I had a great weird ten days wandering around parts of the greater New York environs and amazing seeing things that I've either never seen before or saw long ago and have since taken for granted. The whole experience last week of "time off at home" was truly fantastic, EXCEPT for one financially-related blip having to do with my entire world of funding (two bank accounts and a credit card) having been frozen due to some overzealous Bank of America "fraud preventioneering". The issue was triggered on Monday Sept 14 when I headed with Lil Beaumont to go pick up a new bike from a girl in the heart of Bushwick. As she temporarily had only limited dollars, I agreed to cover her purchase temporarily. I went to the ATM to withdraw funds from my credit/debit card but accidentally added an extra digit in attempting to get money from my account (therefore going over the limit) and was rejected. I then attempted to withdraw the correct amount from my account on the same ATM but was again rejected. Trying once more (thinking perhaps i'd mistyped something) but this time even less funds, I was declined a third time. I then received an automated call from Bank of America asking me to approve three potential fraud transactions, which I did, but then I immediately called the Bank to make sure that in doing so they didn't think I'd actually withdrawn any money from the account. "Hi, thank you for calling Bank of America. I look forward to helping you today." A rep on the phone confirmed for me that nothing had been taken out and said he'd help me make sure the fraud lock is lifted if I'd just wait a second. In the meantime though I was warned by the person on the line when asked a variety of security questions that despite having opened my account at a Fleet Bank in Saratoga Springs in 2001, my account now stated that it had been opened at Rockefeller Center in some time more recently...also apparently my "user account phone password" is "customer", which I also got wrong. I'm assuming that BofA chose this for me since I have to believe that I would have never chosen such a hilariously terrible password (I would have at least gone with "password" if I was going to go the ridiculous route). Finally, after being placed on hold, I was for a second time sent to the automated fraud removal line. I groaned--and probably shouted out loud--but went through the prompts yet again and then went home without attempting to use my card again. After going Tuesday without using my card, on Wednesday, I went to work and managed to use the card three times as a credit card at a Duane Reade and to get food at a nearby eatery--seemingly without problems. I did not attempt to withdraw any cash from an ATM though.  Coney Island sign, from behind train station entrance I was under the impression at this point that everything was fine, until on Thursday Mia and I went to Coney Island. Immediately after getting there I decided to get some cash so I could show her the wonders of corn dogs and fried clams (amazing honestly, being able to give someone a first experience on that stuff). However, when I attempted to withdraw $60 from my account I was given an "external decline" message and told to contact my bank. Sure enough, within minutes I received yet ANOTHER call from the automated fraud prevention line asking me to sanction potentially fraudulent activity. I did not go through the prompts this time though, and immediately hung up and dialed customer service because I was so angry that simply attempting to withdraw reasonable amounts of money from random ATMs throughout the CITY I LIVE IN would signal the "fraud preventioneers" and wanted to talk to someone immediately to straighten things out. After getting someone on the line and explaining my situation (including the desperate plea NOT to be sent again to the automated line), I was put on hold and then... sent back to the automated line. Increasingly frantic in my desperation for dollars and annoyance at BofA bullshit, I dialed them back once again and this time insisted on speaking to a human who could help me. They finally transferred me to a "fraud prevention specialist" who said he could take care of things. This is where things went rapidly downhill: he asked me my security word ("customer") and my social security number, fine, but then the question of the age of my account came up. He asked if my account was older than five years. Obviously it is based on what I mentioned above, but to make sure I was clear to him I said, "Yes, it is. My account was opened at a Saratoga Springs, NY Fleet Bank location in 2001 or 2002, but I have been told that it may now say Rockefeller Center and I have no idea therefore what year you have listed." Long pause. He then asked if I have any direct deposits set-up (yes, my work). He asked me the amount it was for. Mind you, I'm standing on a boardwalk at Coney Island starving and staring at corn dogs. I have absolutely no idea what the amounts of my direct deposit are, only that each paycheck is a slightly different amount because of my health insurance deductions. Long pause. He then asked if I had any regularly scheduled monthly payments (yes, credit card and a checking-to-savings swap). Did I know the exact amounts though? No. Longest pause. Speaking slowly, he said, "I'm sorry sir, but since you have not been able to pass the security requirements I'm going to have to ask that you go in person to a Bank of America to verify the account." I couldn't believe it. I had more or less answered all of his questions and could provide exact detail on a variety of things he didn't ask. I then pleaded we him if there was anything else we could do to get the fraud prevention removed and he said no, and so I then asked for his BofA ID # so I could file a complaint against him and asked to speak to his supervisor. He then paused again and said hold on and then the line was disconnected. gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. So after spending about 25 minutes of me being on and off hold and answering question after question, I had accomplished nothing. Or so I thought. I called back once more, resolved to get things taken care of, only to find out that my friendly Bank of America attendee had put a lock on my account so that the only way it could be reopened would be to physically go into a Bank somewhere. Thanks a lot, dude.  Coney Island Boardwalk (near "Shoot the Freak") Again, we were in Coney Island and my friend was just visiting. I think there may have been a bank somewhere nearby but I didn't want to waste Mia's time so I just decided to go to the one in Williamsburg when I got home. We spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon exploring, taking photos and counting the trash cans and crazy people (seriously, there are innumerable amounts of them both) and then headed back to the Burg around 3. We got home at 4 and I headed immediately to the BofA on Graham Ave expecting I had plenty of time, but sure enough, blammo, the office had closed at 4 and I was fucked, immediately, and for the next 17 hours. Since not just one but all of my accounts were locked, I had literally no access to funds (note to anyone: here's one good reason to use multiple banks for different accounts). This wasn't inherently the end of the world, as I could certainly borrow dollars from Mia, but the next day was Friday and we planned to be gone the entire day visiting Storm King upstate and had plans again early Saturday morning--meaning that if I wanted any funds before Monday, I would need to get into a Bank of America the next morning before heading to Storm King. Unfortunately, the lone bus to Storm King leaves each day at 10am...meaning that we needed to be there by 9:40 to ensure we would have enough time to get a ticket and make it onto the bus.... leaving us but 25 or so minutes to "make it happen" at Bank of America and then rush from the location on 44 St & 7 Av to the Port Authority bus terminal. We woke up earlyish the next morning and began getting our stuff together before finally leaving the house (late) at 8:45. We got out of the train at 42 & 7 at 9:15 and I almost ran fullspeed to Bank of America from there. Upon entering, I quickly grabbed the attention of salesperson and relayed to her my plight. "Ok, come with me Sir. I can help you," she said, leading me into an office. I walked in and "handed" my identification to her (which was admittedly more of a "forced my identification on her"). "Ok, great, I can help you," she said, repeating herself, "Just have a seat and let me get a representative on the phone to help you with your issue." Scrrrrrreeeeecchhhhh! [insert phonograph needle skating across vinyl] "Umm...," I said, "Why do you need to get someone on the phone? They told me I had to come in here so you could unlock the account and then it would be fine." "I'm sorry sir, but actually, I'm only able to verify your identity for a representative who can help you with your issue." At this precise moment I was torn between my rapidly increasing need to get out of the bank and over to Port Authority to catch our bus and my urge to pick up the now dialing telephone and throw it as hard as possible at the glass window behind me. Probably the intense confusion of feeling at this moment actually saved me, because rather than barking at the in-store attendant and causing her to stop what she was doing, I simply sat there, too stunned to move or say anything until the voice of yet another Bank of America phone operator cut the silence. "Hi, thank you for calling Bank of America. I look forward to helping you today." I then had to for the fourth time explain my situation, whereby the skeptical sounding woman then requested to speak with a BofA rep who could attest to my identity claims. I then called another attendant in, who verified I was indeed Me, and I thought it was finally over but then I heard the woman on the phone ask him for some kind of special authorization code. "Seriously?" he said, "Can't I just give my employee ID#?" No. The man left the room and was gone for a bit before finally returning a few minutes later during which time my anxiety-stricken brain began to assume that there was no way that the call wouldn't somehow be dropped and we'd have to start all over again. GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. But instead he gave her the code, handed me back the phone and we proceeded. "Ok, Sir," the woman said, "Now I can begin to help you with your issue." Duh-what????? "We're all set now, right?" I asked hurriedly, adding, "I'm late for a bus and need to get going." "Sir, I need in order to assist you with this fraud-related issue I need to ask you a few security questions about your account." Stunned silence from me, followed by, "... Uh. [sigh] Ok." "First can you please verify the following transaction..." and she proceeded to ask me about the Coney Island ATM withdrawal which I'd already verified twice to the automated teller, twice to a human on the phone, and once to the in-store bank attendant. Umm. O. ... K. ... "Ok. Now can you please tell me what were the last three purchases made on the card and the exact amounts they were for." .... !!!! ... !!!! There do not exist words or punctuation to describe my feeling at that very moment. Only the knowledge that I could potentially drop the call and have to start all over again prevented me from slamming the phone repeatedly onto the table and my own face. I drew a deep breath and spoke slowly: "Ma'am. Wow. I honestly have NO IDEA what my last three purchases were on this card, and I definitely have no idea what the amounts were. The account has been locked for over 24 hours now and moreover, I'm not sitting in front of a computer screen where I might be able to review this information and share it with you***. In fact, I'm currently in an actual Bank of America where I was told I could come in and show my identification to prove that I am who I say I am and get this all taken care of. I'm pretty sure that I made two purchases at Duane Reade, for amounts totaling less than $20 in each purchase. But I couldn't tell you what the dollar figures were, or what the third transaction was. Please, please, stop asking me questions and let me get my money so I can go try and catch a bus that your bank seems hellbent on making me miss." Pause. "Sir, I'm sorry, but I need you to answer these questions in order to remove the fraud security lock from your account. Can you please tell me the amounts of these purchases?" At this point I shouted "Hold on, one second" and then raced out of the room to the attendant standing in the hallway. "Please, dear god," I said, "Tell this woman on the phone that I am who I say I am. I have no idea what my recent transactions were. I only know that I have done everything that should be necessary to prove my identity and that I am on the verge of missing a bus that will ruin one day out of my friend and I's vacation. Please, please help me." The attendant then followed me into the office and put the receiver on speakerphone. "Ma'am, this is [name], [title] of the Times Square Bank of America branch again. Mr. Beaumont has provided enough evidence to remove the fraud lock from his account. Let's please wrap this up." It's 9:48am. "Ok, I am just making sure that we have answered all the necessary questions. We are all set now and you may use your account immediate--- [CLICK]" I threw the phone back on the receiver and dashed out the door, grabbing Mia by the shoulder and saying, "Run!" She handed me a cigarette she'd rolled for me and we raced off toward Port Authority, whispering, "I have donuts and a New York Times" in my ear. Ten Morals Of The Story (WITH CONVENIENT BOOKEND POINTS): 1) Fuck you Bank of America. 2) CONSIDER USING A BANK OTHER THAN BANK OF AMERICA 3) I am deprariously lackadaisical when it comes to doing things promptly or carefully, and could have easily avoided a lot of this absurdity by being on top of my shit a little more. 4) We are near the endpoint in our civilization when humans serve no purpose but to annoy each other and make babies. 5) There is already almost no way to avoid these kind of braincrushing commercial interactions. 6) For every action, there is an opposite and actual reaction. 7) Coney Island is more fun to take a visitor in the fall on a weekend when all the action is open. 8) Banks are destined to grow more and more powerful. 9) If my skin were made out of money, I could avoid these kinds of issues by shaving dead layers off into people's hands in the form of currency. 10) FUCK YOU BANK OF AMERICA. THANKS. PART II: Storm King, After I Found You, You Provided Me With Rich Excitement And Assuaged My Feelings Of Weltschmerz Epilogue: After arriving at Port Authority, we tore up the stairs frantically looking for the ticket booth, and upon finding it, I attempted to bribe the woman in front of the line with a fiver to cut her (she demurred and let us pass gratis). We bought our tickets (the ticketeer had no smiles to give) and rushed over to the departure gate. When we got there the gate attendent was gone already and so we burst through the exit, just to see the bus closing its doors. I ran to the bus and banged once before the driver opened and let us on. Exhale--until two seconds later my heart dropped as I saw that every seat on the bus was taken except for two singles in the back; for a moment it suddenly occurred to me that after all this malarkey we'd have to spend a 90 minute bus ride sitting apart from each other. These fears were almost immediately allayed, however, as Mia quickly offered gummi bears (gummibärchen!) to one of the singles in exchange for his seat. Phew. Yes. Of course.  Bus booths, Newburgh Bus Terminal parking lot Fairly Tangential Epi-epilogue: After all of this craziness Mia and I were so relieved that we rather depariously somehow failed to exit the bus when it reached Storm King. Despite seeing a location that looked very much like what I had imagined Storm King to be, we didn't hear the driver announce anything [he was apparently using his throat and vocal cords rather than amplified microphone to broadcast his voice??] and so we didn't get off until about 15 minutes later Mia said, "Umm.... did we miss the Storm King?" We had, in fact, missed it (I'd thought since it only went there once a day that Storm King was actually the end of the line and that we wouldn't be able to miss it). The driver let us off at the Newburgh Bus Terminal, which my iPhone told me was 8.9 miles away from Storm King, and found out almost immediately from a near-laughing ticketeer that there was no "next bus to Storm King". I burst into maniacal laughter and wandered outside for a cigarette, wondering how much a cab driver would gouge me to take us there, and how I might go about finding one. I crossed my fingers it would be less than $50. But much to my delight, upon exiting, I heard two middle-aged women on a nearby bench talking say the words "Storm" and "Museum". I wandered over to them and asked if they were by chance going to Storm King. To our luck, they were. Meaning... !!!!!! (this did not in reality merit four exclamation points). They immediately asked if I wanted to split the cab and I pumped my fist unnecessarily and sat down to enjoy my cigarette. 10-15 minutes later a yellow minivan pulls up with reggaeton BLASTING out the windows. I attempt four times to open the side door before the driver finally reaches over and throws it open. Mia and I quickly climbed into the back and the cabbie looked at the two women as the entered and barked, "Hola. Que tal? Donde vamos?" Seriously. He also had not turned the music down, so they looked at each other and then began shouting in English to him. "Que Uds dicen?" he asked$. I began to see steam coming out of their ears and began attempting to communicate in pidgin Spanish, which was enough to get the car moving (but not the music lowered). For whatever reason, after everything that had happened, this situation seemed not remotely annoying but instead entirely hilarious. The driver then began speaking muy rápidamente into his radio, asking for directions and saying something to the effect of "What the fuck is Storm King and where the fuck is it?" The women in front of us began alternating between feelings anger over the loud volume of the music and concern over the fact that the driver appeared to have absolutely no idea where he was going. After turning around for the second time, I busted out my iPhone and pulled up directions from its Google Maps GPS%%%. I then started shouting directions while simultaneously assuring the ladies that everything would be fine and we'd be there shortly. When we finally got there--which honestly was only about 10-15 minutes later--we got out of the car and the driver said, "Ok sí, $10, gracias." We all looked at each other in disbelief--$10! For a nine mile trip! In NYC that would have cost a minimum of $25, and I was just expecting it would be more here. Nope. Topping it off, the women stunned me by then speaking in Spanish with the driver to arrange for him to pick them up again in the same spot at 5pm. And then I looked ahead, and there we were, finally: Storm King. And the rest is history.  Andrew Goldsworthy Wall, Storm King Art Center Cut Copy - "Autobahn Music", from Bright Like Neon Love NOTES: ***-- Ok, ok. Yes, Mom, to be fair, if I balanced my checkbook like old people do, I probably could have pulled it out of my briefcase and recited the figures back to her and avoided a lot of these troubles. But it's 2009, and I feel like I don't want that to be the lesson of this whole thing. I guess I would hope it wouldn't have to come to that by now. And anyway, sheesh. $$$--Or something like that. Paraphrasing, obviously, because I don't remember and I don't really speak Spanish. %%%--Aside: yes, a world without cell phones would be great, but also, really: fuck that, right? Bring on the future! Labels: BEAUMONT, deprarious, FAIL, fucktactics, JB screeds, lolgore, mp3, OLD PEOPLE MAKE IT HARD NOT TO SIGH SOMETIMES, thoughts posted by Nihilist Loves Hate, Hates Everything at 9/28/2009 11:54:00 PM 2 comments 2
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GET BEHIND ME DEAD MAN
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