The New York Times Reviews a Concert by The Honey Bees

The Honey Bees have a light yet urgent sound that evokes no less than a race towards immortality. Perky and pearly, they emit an unabashed beauty of the sort that you could carefully build a career around — as The Honey Bees will certainly do once they get off that blasted island. But one of the perils of beauty is inertia, and The Honey Bees are not about to fall into that trap, as they seemed almost too keen to prove at their beach side performance on Tuesday night, in a punchy and ultimately perplexing show.

There’s an underlying dichotomy in The Honey Bee's work, which functions both on the level of flickering intimacy and thundering grandiosity. They're adept at exuding human warmth on a sweeping scale, which might explain their tentative history with Bingo, Bango, Bongo, and Irving of The Mosquitos. Still, it’s striking how indifferent The Honey Bees are to their roles onstage. The future of the island's inhabitants rest on their tiny shoulders, yet they're unable to display the zeal required to convince The Mosquitos they, too, should be taken by helicopter in a last desperate attempt to finally leave their tropical prison.

What that means in practical terms is that The Honey Bees engineer wave upon wave of glittery combustion, sometimes packing several boomlets into their one and only hit You Need Us. Ms. Ginger's precisely rhapsodic solo was the concert’s most audacious feat of musicianship, followed by Ms. Mary Anne's corn-fed purring. The blue blood of the trio, Mrs. Howell, took full advantage of both accompanists, basking in their expertise and squaring it against her own inability to stay on tempo.

[Contrast this to the recent ramshackle debut performance of The Gnats at this same venue earlier this week and you'll notice a marked difference in quality.]

For much of the concert, the audience provided them with boisterous support. And there was a sturdy dynamism in the entire show, especially considering it was comprised of a performance for only a single song.

Instead the show barreled on to its mildly surreal conclusion: rather than rescue the castaways, as promised, The Mosquitos ultimately renege, citing as their main reason the superiority of The Honey Bees over their own talents, despite their having recorded a live album at Carnegie Hall.

In the end, The Honey Bees ended where they began, artistically stranded, left adrift in a sea of musical mediocrity. For this reviewer, it was obvious their ship had long ago sailed into the sunset.

Free To Be, You and Me

There comes an important time in every person's life when they must stop living a lie, face all opposition and become who they truly are in order to flourish and become whole.  We at Disco:Very applaud R&B singer/songwriter Frank Ocean for casually revealing his previous love affair with another man earlier this week, and salute his bravery, honesty and candor. In a money-driven industry which enables and encourages that certain lifestyles be kept on the down low, it's refreshing to see a major rap star stay true to himself and Disco:Very welcomes Frank Ocean to the GLBTTQQIAAPNUFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF* community.

*G stands for gay (adj., n.)

‘Gay’ refers to people who are attracted to their own gender and is usually used by men.

L stands for lesbian (adj., n.)

‘Lesbian’ is a word used primarily by women who are attracted to other women.

B stands for bisexual (adj., n.)

‘Bisexual’ denotes sexual attraction to two genders.

T stands for transgender (adj.)

‘Transgender’ is an umbrella term used for any person whose gender identity does not match their assigned sex. This term includes both binary and non-binary identified trans* people.

T stands for transsexual (adj., n.)

Transsexual people fall under the transgender umbrella, but usually this term refers specifically to binary-identified people transitioning from male to female (MTF) or female to male (FTM).

Q stands for queer (adj., n.)

‘Queer’ is another umbrella term that can be used to describe one’s sexual orientation and/or gender identity. While it has history as a slur, it has been largely reclaimed and is now used primarily to represent any person of a gender or sexual minority.

Q stands for questioning (adj.)

‘Questioning’ is included in our acronym to welcome anyone who may be unsure about their gender or sexual identity and wants a safe space.

I stands for intersex (adj.)

Intersex individuals are those who have an atypical biological sex. They may have ambiguous genitalia, which is sometimes “corrected” at birth, or they may appear outwardly male or female while chromosomally being another sex.

A stands for asexual (adj., n.)

An asexual person is one who experiences no sexual attraction. However, “asexual” is considered an umbrella term and also represents gray-asexuals and demisexuals.

A stands for ally (n.)

Allies are people who support the aims of the community. Allies can be heterosexual and cisgender (non-transgender) but it is important to remember that even within the community, we are all allies to one another.

P stands for pansexual (adj., n.)

Pansexual people are attracted to people of all genders. This term recognizes the wide range of gender identities other than man or woman, such as genderqueer, bigender, neutrois, and other non-binary identities.

N stands for nonsexual (adj., n.)

Nonsexual people are not attracted to people of any genders. This term recognizes the wide range of gender identities other than man or woman, such as genderqueer, bigender, neutrois, and other non-binary identities to which someone might not find themselves attracted.

U stands for Unsuresexual (adj., n.)

Unsuresexual refers to those who are unsure of what sex is, or who question if it truly exists.

FF stands for foot fetishist (adj., n.)

A foot fetishist is only interested in sexual activities which involve feet. This term recognizes that some sexual beings are unable or uninterested in any of the above sexual and non-sexual binary identities and prefer, instead, to simply focus on feet and this, too, should be welcomed into the sexual community.

FF stands for furry fetishist (adj., n.)

Furry fetishist is the description used for those into sexual role play involved with fictional anthropomorphic animal characters enabled with human personalities and characteristics.

FFFF stands for furry fetishist into fist fucking (adj., n.)

Furry fetishist into fist fucking is the description used for those into sexual role play involved with fictional anthropomorphic animal characters enabled with human personalities and characteristics, coupled with a healthy attraction to fist fucking.

FFFFFF stands for furry fetishist into fist fucking and flipping flapjacks (adj., n.)

Furry fetishist into fist fucking whilst flipping flapjacks is the description used for those into sexual role play involved with fictional anthropomorphic animal characters enabled with human personalities and characteristics, coupled with a healthy attraction to fist fucking whilst flipping flapjacks.

FFFF stands for fist fuckers into Freddy Fender (adj., n.)

Fist Fuckers into Freddy Fender is included in our acronym to welcome anyone who may be into a specific niche of fist fucking wherein said activity is accomplished while listening to Wasted Days and Wasted Nights.

FFFFF stands for fist fuckers into flapjacks which resemble Freddy Fender (adj., n.)

Fist Fuckers into flapjacks which resemble Freddy Fender is included in our acronym to welcome anyone who may be into a specific niche of fist fucking wherein said activity is accomplished while admiring flapjacks which, if tilted the right way, can somewhat resemble the visage of Freddy Fender.

Staying Propped Up

Oklahoma psych-rockers The Flaming Lips tearfully announced on their website that they have run out of ideas for costumes and props for their highly-visual lead singer to wear and are now seeking the public's input for a rash of new ideas. As a public service to this iconic band, Disco:Very submits the following outfits for the band's consideration:

DARTBOARD COSTUME
ADVANTAGES: Playful game-like costume will encourage increased interaction between the band and the audience, recontextualizing conceptual boundaries of the performance space and its place in the larger public sphere.
DISADVANTAGES: Due to excessive consumption of alcohol by audience members, many will assume the costume to be a literal dartboard, leading to the throwing of actual pointed darts towards lead singer, possibly leading to severe injury, blindness or death, followed by protracted lawsuits between the band, its management and the venue's lawyers. Also, silly prop costume gives the band another way to hide the fact that they have no real songwriting skills of which to speak.

PINK RIBBON COSTUME
ADVANTAGES: Raises public awareness of the serious topic of  breast cancer and health issues for women, encouraging female audience members to schedule regular screenings with their doctors. Tour can be co-sponsored by local Breast Cancer Awareness organizations, who would be permitted to raise funds via strategically placed information booths at outdoor concert venue.
DISADVANTAGES: The mention of breasts will make those in the audience under the influence of various reality-enhancing drugs to giggle uncontrollably during entire concert. Also, silly prop costume gives the band another way to hide the fact that they have no real songwriting skills of which to speak.

FLESH COSTUME
ADVANTAGES: This costume's blank form examines notions of life's meaning and existence, questioning many facets of religion, morality and life itself. With no cultural signifier present, viewer is free to project identity and purpose to the person inside the costume, or eschew involvement altogether. Audience members at the band's outdoor concerts can engage in lengthy and complex philosophical discussions while waiting in line at the Port-o-Potty.
DISADVANTAGES: Heat created by stage lights will create large wet spots in crotch area resembling urine stains, thereby negating the seriousness of the entire image. Also, silly prop costume gives the band another way to hide the fact that they have no real songwriting skills of which to speak.

YOUTUBE PARODY COSTUME
ADVANTAGES: Makes a symbolic commentary on issues of celebrity and identity, positioning lead singer, now framed within the format of a YouTube video, as target for the public's love and approval or, conversely, scorn and hatred. Audience can ruminate on the Internet's role in creating and discarding instant popularity worldwide through viral videos and related media.
DISADVANTAGES: Attempts to parody a popular website created over seven years ago will position the band as hopelessly out of date, especially considering the band's rapid advancement towards senior citizenry. The word "YouBoob" is a wince-inducing, painfully-unfunny pun on the iconic website's name, further solidifying the band's unfashionable disconnection from pop culture. Also, silly prop costume gives the band another way to hide the fact that they have no real songwriting skills of which to speak.

Dancing About World Peace is Like Singing About Architecture

Just when we thought our national nightmare was over, he returns. Before you accuse me of being a Negative Nigel, let's break down in real time why this man and his videos are so very reprehensible:

1. Please don't think that an upper-middle-class American encouraging some Iraqis to dance on cue is going to bring about love and harmony throughout the globe. There has never been world peace, there never will be world peace, and sloppy foot work to a fifth-rate Enya impersonator isn't going to change that.

2. Let's be realistic, here: this dude Matt didn't exactly get warring factions to come together in the interest of pacifist living. He didn't convince a gun-toting Israeli to spin into a waltz with an oppressed Palestinian. No, he simply set up his fucking camera, posted (I assume) notices around the village that he wanted extras to dance with him on a particular date and, presto! His job was done. Any idiot can get other idiots to mug for a camera.  This is why so-called reality television is so abundant.

3. His choice of music makes me want to pull out my own eyeballs, slice my head off slowly with a butter knife and then drive a 10-ft razor blade through each kneecap.  Many commentators on YouTube would toss about the word "inspirational".  I would, instead, describe this recording as "crazy-making".

4. Supporters of this man's work argue that this video is a reminder that, basically, everyone the world over is all the same and we should respect the beliefs and cultures of everyone else.  You need a fucking sappy video to tell you that??  That's just fucking Human Fucking Rights 101, baby.

5. The tot on his shoulders at the very end--who I assume to be his own offspring--is going to need decades of therapy when he grows up to find himself to be a part of this debacle.

On the plus side, it is admittedly pretty cool to get a seal to flap its appendages with you, I'll give him that.  Perhaps, in the end, Matt's legacy will be to bridge the opposition we face with our feathered and furry friends throughout the planet.

Cut Your Hair (and Your Losses)

If you needed further convincing on just how reprehensible Iron & Wine frontman Samuel Beam really is, take a moment to let your eardrums get raped by this. Iron & Wine's hemp seed granola persona has been inching ever closer to the early-70's era of shaggy hair and even shaggier music tastes, but now he's crossed a very long-haired, lice-infested line. Little Feat is one of those bands which we should be thankful has bit the dust--our lives are more enriched now that they're no longer on the charts and only brought up in conversation by Over Sixties who still think Lowell George was some sort of music icon. But with the legion of Iron & Wine fans growing each year, I worry that we'll soon be seeing a Little Feat resurgence thanks to this faux-folkie who resembles Jesus Christ but with none of the sex appeal. Are you going to tell me that all these years Beam has been secretly harboring a love of this funky-bluesy-funk/blues? Where does this slippery slope end? Will he next release a one-off single covering Firefall? Is he going to spearhead a tribute album to Barefoot Jerry? Is the next step a collaborative folk-cycle album with Gilbert O'Sullivan? For pete's sake, Sam, let the lunacy end.

Grand Theft Audio

Thanks to the new 25th Anniversary reissue of the 1986 Grammy-winning hit album Graceland, when you listen to this early version of All Around The World Or The Myth Of Fingerprints, you can almost hear the exact moment when Paul Simon steals this Los Lobos song right out from under them. Bonus joke: "Ever since the watermelon..."--what the fuck does that even fucking mean??

Bob Welch, former member of Fleetwood Mac, dead at 65 of self-inflicted gunshot wound

Alternate headlines:

It's no 'Rumours': Bob Welch dead at 65

Bob Welch, 65, Stopped Thinking About Tomorrow

Tusk, Tusk: Bob Welch, 65, Dead of Self-inflicted Gunshot Wound

Bob Welch, 65, Goes His Own Way (with a Blast!)

Over My Head, but Apparently Needed to Aim Higher: Bob Welch, 65, Dead of Self-inflicted Gunshot Wound

Bob Welch Told to 'Never Break the Chain'; Does So Anyway

Acoustic Cubicle

After seeing their awesome live show, this is how obsessed I have become with Yacht: I actually sat through an entire episode of a Tiny Desk Concert for the first time. God help us all.

The Perfection of Art is to Conceal Art. [And, Sometimes, Talent.]

Album Covers Which Somehow Escaped Being Added to the Permanent Collection at The Museum of Bad Art (click on the images to embiggen the lulz.)

Disco:Very Translates His Own Press Release Touting Free Give Away of Remastered Release of Disco:Very 2001

On May 24th, 2012, world-renowned music blog Disco:Very will reissue the acclaimed Disco:Very 2001 year-end compilation, which was originally given away to a small number of friends and family in December 2001.

[In this case, "world-renowed" means weird sections of the American midwest and two readers in Ireland, and "acclaimed" means "some people actually kept their CD's for a year before tossing them in the garbage".


"There is not a week that goes by without some fan of my current CD's asking if I will ever reissue the earlier comps", said Disco:Very CEO, Disco:Very. "The time felt right to remind the public why we are at the forefront of custom-made CD compilations given out free-of-charge on an annual basis." 

[How very edgy: still working in a media format less popular than the wax cylinder.]


As it has done for the past 12 years, blog readers are instructed to send their name and address to Disco:Very's e-mail address whereupon a CD will be immediately mailed to the requester.  Because Disco:Very respects its readers privacy, fake names are allowed in each request as long as the address is real.

[The validity of claims to privacy cannot be verified, so keep your soiled underwear locked up just to be sure.]


Longtime readers of Disco:Very and newbies alike will find much to like in this nostalgic trip from 2001, including artists familiar (The Magnetic Fields, Jurassic 5, Sigur Ros) and some off the beaten path (Zero Zero, Marvin Pontiac, Zoot Woman.)

[Anyone in the internet age who still can't stumble upon the music of Radiohead on their own must be some kind of specialized idiot. ]


The audio and cover art has been redesigned and remastered from top to bottom, so even if you already own an original Disco:Very 2001 CD, you should consider adding this newer edition to your collection for its crisp remastering and bold minimalist graphics.

[The original artwork from 2001 was so hideous, it was best to throw it all away and stick to the design of the last few years just to play it safe.]


Disco:Very is a music blog publishing since 2005 where it made a name for itself as an incisive, inflammatory blog of opinion, reviews and music links.

[In other words, just like every other music blog clogging cyberspace, but the author of this one doesn't know the meaning of the words "Give it up, already".]

Let's Deciper the Lyrics to "Eveningness", the Best Track on the New Album by Lotus Plaza

[INSTRUCTIONS: PLAY SONG ON REPEAT FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER]

Looking at my purse and not at you
I deathly need the rest of the tofu
Three’s a Crowd and Moopy and a foot
Chains smoking the drag and it’s a pain

[CHORUS]
I wouldn’t wear it again
And my waist is eveningness
I wouldn’t give it again
And my peas are eveningness
I wouldn’t have it again
And my pace is eveningness
I wouldn’t go it again
And my face is eveningness

Romper Room and gulls that pull it down
Shaggy mom and moves it to its head
Labor love and shadows aren’t that deep
I see them now and don’t want the bar keep

And now that I’ve seen how they change
I know the way you’d have it the same
My game is too pooped to change

CHORUS

[The most transcendent yet subtle musical interlude ever composed.]

[REPEAT FIRST VERSE]

[CONTINUE PLAYING SONG UNTIL YOU GET SICK OF IT, WHICH WILL NEVER HAPPEN, EVER]

The Unintentionally Hilarious Press Photos of Bands Playing in My Area in the Near Future [Part 2] [Click Photo to Enlarge the Lulz]

Disco:Very Celebrates Record Store Day [By Being a Nuisance] - Part 7

Unnamed Local Record Store Chain: [Name of store], this is [name].
Disco:Very: I'm calling to find out your store return policy, specifically a vinyl album I just purchased at your Record Store Day sale.
Unnamed Local Record Store Chain: Was there something wrong with it?
Disco:Very: So many things wrong with it! I don't even know where to begin! First off, it was a special limited-edition vinyl copy of Nicki Minaj's masterpiece Pink Friday: Roman Reloaded and as we all know, Roman is an avatar of Miss Minaj, but because Nicki and Roman share so many aesthetic and representational similarities, the alter ego of Roman is barely perceptible!
Unnamed Local Record Store Chain: [Sounding confused.] Um, OK, so you're just unsatisfied with the music? And the record itself isn't broken or whatever?
Disco:Very: That's not the worst of it, my friend. The album was pressed on pink vinyl but but instead of, say, Pantone 18-2133, it's more like salmon or a dark apricot color when, clearly, it was supposed to be the color of Nicki's labia minora.
Unnamed Local Record Store: Her what?
Disco:Very: Her labia minora.
Unnamed Local Record Store: [Pause.] I don't know...uh...
Disco:Very: It's a type of flower.
Unnamed Local Record Store: So it's a type of flower on the cover?
Disco:Very: No, no. It's a type of flower which women enjoy carrying around. Lots of women have them, though not all of them.
Unnamed Local Record Store: [Completely lost in thought.] Uh...
Disco:Very: You can just ask any woman in the store the color of her labia minora. Go ahead, I'll wait.
Unnamed Local Record Store: Well, we're pretty busy here and...
Disco:Very: You can just call it out on the microphone, on the PA system in the store. You should just say into the microphone "Will the female customers and employees please bring your labia minora to the cash register please?".
Unnamed Local Record Store: Hang on. [Muffled sounds--appears to be asking a female employee how to handle this call. Female employee seems to know what a labia minora is, hangs up the phone without speaking to me.]

Disco:Very Celebrates Record Store Day [By Being a Nuisance] - Part 6

Unnamed Local Record Store Chain: [Name of store].
Disco:Very: [Big breath, pause.] There is a remarkable moment when one listens to an album by Florence & the Machine when one realizes they are on a journey of the soul, and all of our hopes, dreams and desires are being laid out before us, naked yet shrouded, vulnerable yet wrought with bravery, and it is during these occasions when we find ourselves floating into the ether of togetherness, for we are at one with Florence & the Machine, and the artistic vision therein, and we are alone, straddling the blurry uncharted land where the sun meets the stars, exemplified by the sounds one hears in between each of their songs; for these quiet fleeting emotions have been captured on a limited-edition 10-inch Record Store Day release, made up entirely of the sounds one hears when Florence & the Machine is not performing, and I am hoping, yearning, praying that your store will have this silent recording, comprised entirely of the space between the songs. Yae, verrily: a record of nothing. Do you have this record, kind madam?
Unnamed Local Record Store Chain: [No response.]
Disco:Very: I can hear you breathing.
Unnamed Local Record Store Chain: [No response.]
Disco:Very: And it is like the opening of a swan's wing, the awning of--.
Unnamed Local Record Store: [Hangs up.]

Disco:Very Celebrates Record Store Day [By Being a Nuisance] - Part 5

Unnamed Local Record Store Chain: This is [name of store] on [street name].
Disco:Very: And a good morning to you, sir!  I'm very excited about Record Store Day tomorrow and I have a few questions I'm hoping you can answer.
Unnamed Local Record Store Chain: Sure, go ahead.
Disco:Very: I'm told there will be a special limited-edition 5-inch vinyl release of Sun Ra performing the hits of Yo La Tengo available for purchase.
Unnamed Local Record Store Chain: [Pauses.] Well...no, uh, are you sure it's not the other way around?  I would think more that Yo La Tengo would be covering the songs of Sun Ra.  That would make more sense.
Disco:Very: No, no, I'm pretty sure it's Sun Ra covering Yo La Tengo.  They were a big influence on him.  He was a huge fan of their indie rock sound.
Unnamed Local Record Store: Well...plus Sun Ra has been dead for a few years so...
Disco:Very: I'm not sure of the particulars.  I only know that it's been pressed on colored vinyl and the vinyl colors mirror that of J.Crew color descriptions: cinnamon, rosemary...things like that.
Unnamed Local Record Store Chain: [Pauses, obviously not interested in dealing with a record-collector train wreck.] Um, OK.  I can check our listings.
Disco:Very: The most important thing to know is that this is very limited.  There will only be two pressings.
Unnamed Local Record Store: So, two runs of, like, 1000 each or...?
Disco:Very: No, just two records total.  And the vinyl pressing plant which made them has been destroyed--completely burned to the ground--to ensure that these two copies can never be duplicated ever again.
Unnamed Local Record Store Chain: [Silence. Dawns on him this is a prank.]
Disco:Very:  [Speaking quickly, so as not to lose the call.] Also, all the employees at the pressing plant were blinded immediately after the two records rolled off the conveyer belt, thus certifying that they would never again be able to take part in the production of 2 records so lovely and singular.  It's as if God Himself crafted these records out of his golden tablets.
 Unnamed Local Record Store Chain: [Laughs.] You're a fucking asshole. [Hangs up.]

Run Away From the Blight

 

There are those who would tell you Alabama Shakes and Rubblebucket are two new bands into which you should be plugging your earbuds, but I am here to warn you, children, that these are freshly-shaved lies. The morally reprehensible Alabama Shakes sport the most generic, lame-ass bar-band sound you could ever muster, tailor-made/readymade for Bonnaroo burnouts;  Rubblebucket are the polar opposite, pushing so far at appearing quirky, you can only respond by patting them on the head and pointing them towards the cut-out bin which they'll soon be inhabiting. The hype machine surrounding these yawn-inducing embarrassments must be avoided above all else. These are dangerous times to be a music lover, and we need to protect each other from all this lethal danger to our tastes.

The Homeless Emperor's New Clothes (Except He's Not Really Homeless)

I'm well aware of the fact that Willis Earl Beal is this year's hot new outsider artist but I don't see him as anything interesting, special or unique, and I'm OK with that. May I please go now?

With Only 39 Years Left to Live, It's Time I Finally Got Around to Digitizing My Cassette & Vinyl Collection [Part 17]

The McGuire Sisters - May You Always b/w Achoo-Cha Cha (7" on Coral Records, 1958)

The A-side of this single by The McGuire Sisters is a dull affair, pedestrian in its arrangements and sentimental yearnings, but the B-side involves allergic reactions which, as we know, always make for great music (though not always). This tune's theme is universal, which explains why it's a worldwide hit, with an admirable flexibility allowing it to be performed with everything from an inoffensive Branson, Missouri twist to an oddly instrumental man-with-stuffed-monkey camp fest. Now all we need is someone to write a tango about mental depression.

With Only 39 Years Left to Live, It's Time I Finally Got Around to Digitizing My Cassette & Vinyl Collection [Part 16]

Dub Narcotic Sound System - Fuck Shit Up (7" EP on K Records, 1994)

Olympia's boy wonder Calvin Johnson finally figures out how to bump 'n' grind and leaves a string of 7" singles in his wake. The A-side is the punk anthem James Brown forgot to write, while the B-side is a facsimile as spoken word performance art. I've grown tired of waiting for this slab to be pressed on aluminum and seeing how my death is imminent, I just wanted to dig in before my grave is dug up.

With Only 39 Years Left to Live, It's Time I Finally Got Around to Digitizing My Cassette & Vinyl Collection [Part 15]

Volumatix - Volume One (12" EP on Republic Recording Corporation, 1982)

Unknown and best-forgotten New Wave act out of Austin, with a legend just obscure enough to make their vinyl sell for obscene amounts on Discogs.  It's worth downloading this 6-song EP for the giggle-inducing opening track alone, whose entire lyrical content unfolds thusly: "What? Who? Huh? Uggghhhh!"  If only someone had a made a campy, poorly-acted, overwrought video to accompany it.  Oh wait, someone already did.

My head is hung in submissive shame as I announce that Disco:Very has now joined the reprehensible Twitter.  Same pithy postings, but now with 80% less content.  Postings will continue apace here at the mothership, but now you can get snarky Tweets for those times when I'm too lazy to link actual music.  Look, if you want this relationship to work, you're going to have to support me on this.  Divorce is not an option.

Sleepy-Time Music for Sleepy-Life People

On the pie chart in my head, snooze-inducing bearded bard Bon Iver is as compelling a listen as swallowing a bottle of Lunesta.  But now that we have to take him seriously after winning the 2012 Grammy for Best New Artist, the obvious questions becomes whether or not his career will mirror that of past New Artist winners?  Out of the professional options below, pick the one he will least likely embark upon:

1. Will become, like The Swingle Singers, the source of a stupefying Trivial Pursuit question.
2. Will go blind, like José Feliciano, from congenital glaucoma but get to enjoy image-enhancing sunglasses with untapped coolness factor.
3. Will give the gift of sperm to a famous lesbian, the same way David Crosby did.
4. Will be profiled in an underground film by Todd Haynes after dying of chemical imbalances associated with anorexia nervosa.
5. Like Milli Vanilli, will be revealed to lip-synching at every performance
6. Like The Beatles, he will become the best-selling artist in history, with estimated sales of over one billion units, influencing countless genres of music the world over.

The correct answer is: g) Bon Iver who?

Twin Peaks (Except One of Them Doesn't Peak at All.) (These Headlines Are So Fun To Write.) (I'm So Very Starved for Your Attention.)

If you decide, like me, you're going to become a slobbering fan of the new-ish combo Taco Leg, you must first understand a most important yet curious fact: there seems to be, amazingly, two bands with the same awesomely hilarious name. (Which is a Butthole Surfers reference, yes?) There is this Taco Leg--they're from Australia, their musically inept (that's a compliment) new single is pictured above on the left, and their primitive/fuck-you-I'm-a-dum-dum anthems are exquisitely pleasurable.  On the other hand, we've got this Taco Leg.  They should be boss, since they're from Austin and although they're not a complete suck-fest...well, um, can you hate a band because their poster art is pukey?  Great, because the Big Brother & the Holding Company-esque image above, right, is reason enough for my eternal scorn.  If you wish to own anything from the Aussie Taco Leg, empty your wallet here.  If you wish to own anything from the Austin Taco Leg, I'm afraid we can't be internet butt buddies anymore.

Acts of (Adorable) Aggression

The hypno-nervous post-punk energy of UK outfit Chapter 24 are enough to scratch the itch you've been missing since Gang of Four reformed and were promptly put to death for the crime of Playing Suck Music in Old Age (of which all reunited bands are guilty). Hooray for us, they're coming to US, though playing two hours north of me on a Wednesday night--an impossible excursion since I work for a living and would be forced to arrive at the office looking uglier than I already am after only 4 hours sleep. Thankfully, I have the band's (charmingly?) uncreative website to tide me over with various videos and Soundcloud audio until I get off my skinny ass and actually buy their awesome debut single. (You can also Stateside it at Aquarius Records.) Their blog also highlights another feature of the group: they look far too polite to be playing music this aggressive.

The Unintentionally Hilarious Press Photos of Bands Playing in My Area in the Near Future [Part 1] [Click Photo to Enlarge the Lulz]

Vag-Tastic!

Am I the only fan of this song who assumed the first line was "Vagina is greater..."?  In my mind, I had assumed this was some pro-Matriarchy right on Feminist treatise.

Don't hate me because I'm beautiful.

Me and My Precious Feelings While Attending the 2012 Sundance Film Festival. Me, Me, Me. [Part 3]

There is this young long-haired surfer dude I keep seeing at every film I attend, which means he has the same festival pass as me, and we always end up sitting on the same aisle (it's the one with the most leg room).  Without fail, if I hate a film, I hear/see him enraptured over it.  If I find a film engrossing, I observe him fidgeting with his cell phone.  I've come to the conclusion he is me in Opposite Land.  I must talk to him and find out if he enjoys Circus Peanuts and pretzels the same way I loathe them.

I've thought of a pretty good tagline for the film Keep the Lights On:  Love Means Never Having to Hold Your Lover's Hand While He is in a Meth-Addicted Fog While Being Sodomized by a Hustler. (Seriously, though, it's a great film with an excellent soundtrack by Arther Russell--check it out when it hits theaters.)

I saw Cheyenne Jackson in the lobby of the Festival Headquarters, and good god is that man tall.  He was with another gent I assumed to be his husband who was just as epic in size, and my hope is that medical science will find a way for them to birth a baby together, thereby breeding a race of super-tall toddlers which will one day rule the world.

While seated waiting for a film to begin, a woman stands near me chatting with her friends seated next to me: "Oh! I never knew this theater had a balcony!", she exclaims while looking up.  "I've never done balcony.  Have you ever done balcony?"  Not "done the balcony"--but "done balcony", as if it were a drug.

I've only walked out of two shit films, which is a new low record for me at Sundance.  I must be getting better at sniffing out the duds before entering.

I thought of a pretty good tagline for the film For Ellen:  It's Kramer vs. Kramer for the MTV Generation! (Seriously, though, it's another great film by So Yong Kim--check it out when it hits theaters.)

Whenever I'm in line for a screening, there is a moment in line where someone standing next to me asks where I'm from, and for a split second I debate whether or not to lie rather than admit I'm from Arizona, the Land of Fucktards.

The Grand Jury Prize for U.S. Dramatic Film went to Beasts of the Southern Wild and it was wholly deserving of all the accolades.  It's a grand work, thematically ambitious and addressing a fully-formed range of ideas, and yet the filmmaker is only 29 (after suffering through the reprehensibly boring Save the Date and its sitcom-level concerns, I had wrongly assumed all 20-something filmmakers cared about was telling stories of other 20-somethings trying to figure out this thing called love).  I'm reading a great deal of reviewers referencing Terrence Malick as an obvious influence, and although the narration of wise-beyond-her-years lead character Hush Puppy does put it in the same category as Days of Heaven, there seems to be more going on than that initial comparison.  I'd go one further and cite Malick devotee David Gordon Green's George Washington, Charles Burnett's Killer of Sheep and perhaps even Pedro Costa's Fontainhas trilogy (specifcally In Vanda's Room) in its deeply humanistic documentation and celebration of outcasts struggling to survive while being wiped away by outside forces.  So moved was I by this film that I've decided to skip all the screenings for the rest of the festival.  Beasts is such a perfect film, mixing moments of visceral tenderness, textured imagery and mythical grandeur in equal measure, I want to make sure this is my last memory of the festival.

Me and My Precious Feelings While Attending the 2012 Sundance Film Festival. Me, Me, Me. [Part 2]

Oh Parker Posey, you adorable urchin of independent cinema. When I saw you from below the staircase you were ascending, it almost felt as if you were treading on my heart. And where did you get that slim figure? Who knew that the improvisational comedies of Christopher Guest would make an actress burn so many calories! Too bad your boyfriend at the photo shoot likes the generic wanky reggae of Bob Marley. P-U! Dump him pronto and get a new beau with better taste in music.

Well, look at you Chris Kattan! You're such a tiny little thing, it's probably not such a good idea to stand next to Graham Phillips for too long. Oops, too late. He's already towering over you.

When I shook your hand, Vera Farmiga, I could tell you were completely interested in who I was and where I worked. It was as if the entire universe stopped at that very moment and you were consumed with making sure you heard every word I uttered. Call me...?

Thank you for taking the time to pose for a photo with my boss, David Duchovny. Your brain might have gone to Princeton and Yale, but that smirk will always be reserved for the undergrads.

If there is one thing you've got to love about William H. Macy (besides his flippy-floppity hair and the ability to stay glued for almost an hour on a single cell call) is the fact that he doesn't know who LCD Soundsystem is, thus allowing him to politely decline an invite to James Murphy's DJ set in the Bing Lounge. I wish William H. Macy was playing at my house.

Was that you, gay Bishop Gene Robinson, wearing that severely flashy purple Catholic blouse with the ornate cross on top during the private photo shoot? Just because there is a new documentary on you playing this year doesn't mean you get to hog the fashion spotlight from all those girls walking the streets of Prospector Square drunk in their Uggs.