A Year of Regret, Misery, and Unending Pain--Set to a Jaunty Soundtrack!

Our annual 2-disc giveaway (given the title this year of Disco:Very 2012) is now available for you to enjoy, in two different formats.  1) E-mail us your name and address (faked names are acceptable, perhaps even encouraged) to receive a smartly-designed CD format (which Youth now declares dead), or 2) for a digital version, simply download Disc One here and Disc Two here.  File sharing between two or more people is the love which dare not speak its name.

Disco:Very 2010 2-CD Comp Now Available for Free (Or Best Offer)

It took far longer than it should have to complete, but Disco:Very 2010, our annual year-end free-of-charge best-of compilation, is finally done. This 2-disc extravaganza is chock full of booty-wailing, fist-shaking, foot-bleeding goodness (now with 28% fewer foreign languages)! You can download disc one here and disc two here, and the track listings are here. Or if you prefer a physical copy with all the graphic trimmings, send your mailing address to the e-mail at the end of the column on the right. While we might not respect you, we do respect your privacy and the name/address you send will never be sent to anyone else. Supplies are limited (meaning: I ran out of empty CD cases) so send your request in today!

Second to None (Except for Everyone In First Place)

The general public fires off a myriad of e-mail questions towards the Disco:Very offices once it learns of the year-end free CD offer. In an attempt to quell potential uproar, let's discuss some of these inquiries openly:

1. I just sent you my address--does this mean I can expect to be stalked?
    Only if you want me to. And even then, what's in it for me?

2. The new year began over a week ago--where is my CD already?
    Do I come down to your job and insist you cook my Big Mac faster?

3. I'm with the RIAA.  You're under arrest.
    That's not a question.

4.  What songs were left off the CD, and why?
     The reasons are as varied as the rejects themselves.  Here are a few:

• This track sounds too much like their other songs, only without the pathos.
• This one is even too disco for me.
• Another blogger already picked them as a year-end favorite, and I am a lone wolf.
• They used a flute on a previous song, therefore they must be penalized.
• My fans can only take so many songs in Portuguese in one sitting.
• Sorrowful expressions of ethnic cleansing through song is sooooo 2005.
• She lives six blocks away from me, and I do not pander to friends (again: lone wolf).
• Time constraint, pure and simple (also: ew, she's a widow).
• My fans can only take so many songs recorded on wax cylinder in one sitting.
• Just because it sounds like "Sister Ray" doesn't make it as good as "Sister Ray".
• This resembles Tom Petty a bit too much for comfort.
• When the fey receptionist at my gym doesn't even know this song, this singer's career is dead.

Birds of a Feather

It's inspiring to see Soul Jazz Records, via Fly Girls, tutor the music-buying public on the important role women played in the development of rap. Young and old alike will be schooled on the ground-breaking work of Tanya Winley (Vicious Rap), Nicki Giovanni (Ego Tripping) and Lady B (To the Beat Y'all), all of whom paved the path for today's chart-topping female artists like Queen Latifah and Missy Elliot. As comprehensive as this collection is, however, can someone tell me how they could have overlooked that fine feminist fowl Cheap Cheap the Cooking Chicken? Her feathered flow is mad wicked, yo.*

*Note to readers: Please pretend it is still fucking hilarious when an old white guy speaks in urban hip-hop lingo. Because, let's face it--it is.

Watch What Happens (When I Lower My Blogging Standards)

Think of me as your Millionaire Matchmaker for music. There are many similarities: Like the host of that show, I am of indeterminate gender, no matter how hard you squint. The procedure my clients follow is also very much the same: you contact my offices (read: visit my website) and ask that I hook you up with a long-term winning relationship (read: song). After extensively studying your profile, I have determined that you'll be a perfect fit with Nerve City's The Armory, a mad echoey thumper which one hopes will be on his/their/its upcoming why-is-it-taking-so-fucking-long-to-come-out-I'm-about-to-pee-my-undies release.

If that suitor (read: track) doesn't twinkle your toes, how about I fix you up with This Land Is No Good, the electroshock-therapy-driven screamer by Love Tan from their Miscellaneous Night Feelings LP? My hope is to see you two walking down the aisle (of your nearest record store) in the near future. True love is never having to say "You Are Sorry."

Money Doesn't Grow On Trees--It Does, However, Tend to Blow Amongst Heavy Traffic on Sunset Boulevard at Opportune Moments

If you're the person in Los Angeles who lost that $100 bill I found lying in the street this past weekend, please write me immediately so I can thank you from the bottom of my heart. That green sure came in handy when Amoeba Records had that rare used version of Recombo DNA, the internet-only limited-edition 2-CD comp of outtakes and demos by robotic New Wave pioneers Devo. Can you imagine how your inability to keep track of your moolah has instantly enriched my life? Now I can listen to Sloppy (I Saw My Baby Gettin') (demo) and Girl U Want (demo alternate version) whenever I damn well please without ever having to resort to the shameful practice of illegal downloading. Thanks to your nimble wallet, my disposition is so sunny I even find myself listening to the tracks made during their later barely-interesting period following their surprising chart success. I hope to be in your area again in three weeks--do you think you can see to losing another $100 dollar bill during my upcoming visit? And a little closer to my hotel wouldn't hurt, either.

The Disappointment Only a Father Could Feel For His Worthless Wayward Children

I raised all of you better than this. Here is all the wrongness which you allowed to happen during my recent sabbatical:

1. You encouraged Leslie Hall to channel her inner Roches (but at least she possesses a much better fashion sense).

2. You catipulted Santogold into the charts simply for emulating M.I.A. when, in reality, she is also guilty of copying Gwen Stefani, The Breeders and Gwen Stefani.

3. You sanctioned Alec Empire as he morphed into Gary Numan without the sense of humor.

4. You replaced Stereolab with Monade and nobody has yet detected the switch.

5. You decided that since The Kinks and Green Day have not delivered any recent product, it would be fine for the Foxboro Hot Tubs to fill in during their absence.

6. I do feel pride, however, over how you continue to pick cartoon-like political figures to run for public office, giving me more practice to enhance and strengthen my burgeoning alcoholism: I drink a shot of tequila every time Sarah Palin has another baby.

Mission Acceptable

For those regular readers who are furious, burning with rage, frothing with anger that I long ago forbid you from sending me link after link after fucking link to Mr. Show clips on You Tube--clips which I already own, clips I have watched over and over until my eyeballs are nine months pregnant with laughter semen--can I make it up to you by offering a link to the hilarious new VH-1 sketch comedy show Acceptable TV? Can I help it if some Public Relations suckface named Jon Creech keeps sending me solicitations about these television clients he reps, just because I'm a raw and radical take-no-prisoners blogger and he's some 9-to-five suit-and-tie Corporate Corpuscle hawking his latest test-marketed edgy hipster laff fest? Does he think I'm some finger-on-the-pulse 16-year-old who will shit his diapers to be tossed an e-mail promo bone, blabbing about this show to all my friends on My Space, thankful to him for placing me so ahead of the pop culture curve? The joke's on him: he doesn't realize I'm a bitter, vile-spewing 42-year-old hater with thinning hair and an ulcer who is only using him as a means to net more free web goodies! Thank goodness this show (which begins airing March 23rd) is actually worth watching, otherwise I might say something about him I'd later regret.

The Colon Makes Me Laugh

Please note the new address for this blog: www.discocolonvery.net. Also, I've slightly tweaked the site and, in additon, I have boldly removed my personal profile to establish a more dramatic yet hushed air of mystery. From now on, you will wonder from afar who I am and what makes me tick. You'll desperately want to be my friend, but I'll keep a wide emotional distance, allowing you into my vulnerable little heart only when I feel you are able to grasp the many complex layers of The Onion I Call My Soul. Also, the stink of my soul will make you cry, and it's delicious in soups.