A-R-I-Z-O-N-A Is My State, Arizona Let Me Say I Think You're Great!

Now that Arizona has successfully banned Hispanics from rudely assuming they, too, can breathe the White Man's oxygen, I--a proud native Arizonan--now feel safer to enjoy patronizing our abundance of Mexican food restaurants without having to actually be around all those Mexicans. And on that same topic, a stern word of caution to underground lofi-funksters Javelin should they ignore the worldwide band boycott and choose to perform in The Grand Canyon State: I recommend only playing songs from your David Byrne-approved new album instead of certain tracks off your underground demos (since they contain what is almost certainly traces of what we Gringos call Spanish). As for the rest of you, stop stating our State government is at least as dumb as Georgia's. When it comes to The Championship of Passing Senseless Bills, everyone knows Arizona has them beat at this particular parlor game.

Making Up the Lyrics of Two Kate Nash Songs Based on Her Own Brief Descriptions in a Recent Article Within Spin Magazine

“I’m not on [Billy Bragg’s] level, but on my new album there are a couple of songs about serious issues: ‘I’ve Got a Secret’ is about homophobia; and on ‘Early Christmas Present’, I’m talking about cheating on someone and leaving them with an STD.” --Kate Nash, Singer/Songwriter, quoted in Spin Magazine, June 2010

I’VE GOT A SECRET
I've got a secret
I’m keeping deep inside
In my black little heart it does reside
I don’t like seeing guys kissing on guys
Or watching women eat each other’s pies

[Chorus]
I’ve got a secret, but it’s a secret no more
Being open-minded is such a chore
I’m a homophobe
Yes, I’m a homophobe
Watching ‘Glee’ is such a bore

Rainbow flags really piss me off
And no male doctor will make me turn my head and cough
I don’t want a man to be touching me down there
And I don’t think women should ever have short hair

[Repeat Chrous]


EARLY CHRISTMAS PRESENT

What’s inside this box?
Unwrap it and see
It will make you smile
It will hurt when you pee

[Chorus]
Even though it’s only April
I’m giving you your Christmas haul
It’s a warm dose of Chlamydia
And it's one-size-fits-all

It took so long to pick out
Because you’re hard to buy for
But an STD is the perfect gift
To come from a cheating whore

Christmas time is magical
It's a time for living large
But even the Baby Jesus
Would be grossed out
By your penis discharge

[Repeat Chorus, Ad infinitum]

NPR Puts the 'Pubic' Back in 'Public'

This morning, while setting up a tent enabling me a place in line to catch Sex & The City 2: Revenge of the Sith, I looked myself in the eye and said, "Disco, nothing is as it appears if even NPR sees fit to stream the forthcoming Sleigh Bells album in its entirety". Gone are the days when the denizens of public radio are subjected to the low-energy yawn-inducing AOR stylings of albums by The Chieftans or Norah Jones. No, NPR has decided that, from now on, they want blood red blood to drip from their listener's ear canals, damaging them for life. I, for one, hail this bold decisive move and look forward to the day they'll stream output from the likes of Ty Segall, Billy Bao and Brainbombs. Sure, listening to Treats confirms what we already knew: the best songs this band has written were already revealed in last year's widely-distributed demos (except for newbie tune Kids, which fuckin' rules), but if this is the type of stuff NPR is going to post on a regular basis, I say we get behind them and push for more. I mean, what else are going to do until May 27th?

Elliott Smith Fans Declare Jihad Against Fans of Pink Floyd. I Smell a Sitcom!

A fading street mural which happened to be randomly photographed for the cover of mopey suicide-y singer/songwriter Elliott Smith's hilariously overrated 2000 album Figure 8 was "tagged" earlier this week by low-wage lackees hired by 84-year-old Pink Floyd kingpin Roger Waters to virally promote yet another tour of the flogged-dead-horse mainstay The Wall.

The viral marketing utilized by Waters and his publicists involves high-profile/big-budget underground guerilla-styled postings promoting the upcoming tour through the use of crudely prited stickers, scripted in an excessively ornate, barely decipherable typeface.

Although the marketing campaign is being seen throughout the greater Los Angeles area, when it left its mark on the hallowed ground that is this anonymous mural on Sunset Boulevard, fans of Smith's work were outraged. "Elliott Smith literally painted this mural literally with his own blood!", screamed Smith follower Glewanda Furklemier. "You can see his tortured soul in each random curve and swirl. Why doesn't Barack Obama do something about this instead of wasting time on that silly oil spill?"

When it was pointed out to Ms. Furklemier that Mr. Smith did not, in fact, actually paint the mural, and that, instead, the photographer hired by his record company merely posed Smith against already-existing street art, Ms. Furklemier replied, "It doesn't matter who painted it. Pink Floyd is going to pay for this, mark my words. There will be a bloodbath of epic proportions, and we will choke the rivers with their dead!"

Ironically, the success of both Pink Floyd and Elliott Smith have relied almost exclusively on compositions involving depressed whining about emotional isolation, but this irony has been lost amid the uproar.

Asked to comment by phone, Roger Water's response--given while counting huge wads of cash--was, "Elliott who?"