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.

Great dancers are not great because of their technique, they are great because of their passion. (And their inability to realize how foolish they look.)

My pre-concert rituals are exacting and precise. The morning of the show, I greet the Sun God with some naked Iyengar Yoga while drinking Ashwagandha Tea, which combats stress and restores serenity. I dress myself in a pair of flowing Nomad Eco Pants (which I bought to wear at Burning Man five years ago) and a dark blue Onno brand organic bamboo tee. Right before bicycling my way to the concert, I smoke a heapful of Salvia for the spirit/flesh rejuvenation I will be experiencing. As soon as I am at the concert, I respond to the music with Ecstatic Dance and Spiritual Movement , letting my Chakra spell out the rhythms and lead me to an enlightened level of no return. After 9 hours of this, I usually forget where I parked my bike and I end up hitching home with one of my shoes missing.

The Errant Charm of Soft, Mild Music, Gently Stirred So as Not to Upset Those Poor Souls Coming Down While in the Recovery Tent at Bonnaroo

When you sit down to listen to the new Vetiver album and its odd cover resembling the Matador Records logo, a most curious thing happens. There, amongst droopy tunes better suited to car commercials, bank commercials and dating site commercials, the boys of Vetiver actually stop gazing at their navels long enough to rock the fuck out (in a Velvets stylee). To quote my nemesis Oliver Twist, "Please, sir, I want some more. Only make sure the next album has a lot less gruel."

With Only 40 Years Left to Live, It's Time I Finally Got Around to Digitizing My Cassette & Vinyl Collection [Part 7]

Stereo Total - Holiday Innn 2 x 7" (Two 7" singles on Bungalow Records, 1998)

Six aggressively loopy remixes of the Stereo Total pop/punk song Holiday Innn, which music scholars worldwide consider their abiding masterpiece. Spanning a two-fer clear-vinyl pack housed in a see-through plastic sleeve, every track takes the German/French duo's original and smears it in ecstasy and/or ecstacy--whichever is easiest to find first. It's incredibly rare, despite what the sellers on Discogs will tell you.

They Are Insane, These Gallic!

There hasn't been much time for me to post anything lately, what with all my waking hours spent getting Courtney Love ready for her stage debut in the musical version of Howard the Duck (she plays the title role). For now, you'll just have to be satisfied with me posting three albums of authentic '60's Ye-Ye French pop: the now out-of-print Ils Sont Fous Ces Gaulois! series, volumes 1, 2 & 3 (I haven't yet bought volume 4, though Dionysus Records apparently has it). Forgive me for lacking the album cover for Volume 1 (if anyone has it, please send it my way). I have to go now--I can hear Courtney screaming for her daily Oxycontin smoothie. There's hell to pay if I don't have it whipped up the minute she gets back from her court-ordered parenting class.

Artiste At Work

Cat Power to Direct Vodka Commercial - Pitchfork [Friday, June 12th, 2009]

6:33am - Vodka bottle fails to show up for costuming. Reached by cell, announces it wants to permanently retire from public performance. Blames erratic behavior on mental exhaustion.

7:49am - Vodka bottle arrives on set, loaded up on Seroquel to battle stage fright. Suffers nervous breakdown in front of crew.

8:05am - During lighting tests, vodka bottle is seen obsessively chasing bad spirits away with matches and sage.

9:26am - Filming is set to begin but is held off because vodka bottle is nowhere to be found. Vodka bottle later found outside talking to squirrels.

10:18am - Vodka bottle announces it is uncomfortable being in its own skin. Chases entire film crew from set, encourages them to sue.

11:50am - Feeling suicidal, vodka bottle abruptly disappears again. Later found working as babysitter in Portland.

12:11pm - Vodka bottle tosses back a handful of Effexar, admits to alcohol abuse. Decides it has grown tired of its own material and would rather be whiskey. Checks itself into Mount Sinai Medical Center but leaves after six days because "it's not for me".

1:28pm - Commercial project is shut down for good. Cat Power reduced to directing episodes of Two and a Half Men.

Disco:Very Translates a Bad Press Release for Brightblack Morning Light

"Haunting, beautiful, and weird in equal doses..."
[Translation: They were too stoned to actually tune their guitars.]

"...Brightblack Morning Light's second album for Matador was recorded entirely under solar power in a remote adobe cabin in the New Mexican mesa..."
[Translation: They didn't have the money to pay their electric bill.]

"...Deeper and heftier than their much loved 2006 self-titled LP..."
[Translation: They discovered their rhyming dictionary has more pages than they initially thought.]

"...this record recalls musicians as diverse as Lee Perry, Bob Dylan, My Bloody Valentine, Neil Young, and Otis Redding..."
[Translation: They plagiarize from a wide variety of dead or near-dead artists for legal reasons.]

"...with sounds ranging from folk to gospel to experimental electronics..."
[Translation: Everything sounds the same to them after they ingest enough peyote.]

"...This impassioned ode to the natural world and traditional lifestyles is as political as it is personal..."
[Translation: They don't believe in taking showers.]

"...Nathan Shineywater and Rachael Hughes make their music for everyone..."
[Translation: Especially if they're White.]

"...but they have a special love for wild and sun drenched places..."
[Translation: They didn't have the money to pay their electric bill.]

"...far from the commercial distractions of the city and the crowds."
[Translation: Their parents cut off their Trust Funds.]

The Redneck Guy Who Turns Out to Be a Substitute Teacher, Which is Scary Because He Displays Such Poor Social Skills in the Intimacy of the Steam Room

A One Act Play

Curtain Opens

We are in the steam room of a downtown gym. LARGE BEEFY TATTOOED MAN (LBTM) and SCRAWNY SMART ASS BLOGGER SECURE WITH THE SIZE OF HIS PENIS (SSABSWTSOHP) are relaxing in silence after a long work out as the sound of steam emits an hypnotic hissing into the tiny room. Because these characters do not know each other, neither one says a word to the other.

After a beat, the door to the steam room opens and in walks HILLBILLY SPORTING A PONYTAIL WHILE ALSO WEARING BIKINI UNDERWEAR WHICH FITS A LITTLE TOO SNUG FOR ANYONE'S COMFORT LEVEL (HSAPWAWBUWFALTSFACL). He sits down between LBTM and SSABSWTSOHP.

All the characters sit in silence for a minute or two as steam fills the room.

HSAPWAWBUWFALTSFACL: Fuck!

(HSAPWAWBUWFALTSFACL changes his position so he is now lying down.)

HSAPWAWBUWFALTSFACL: (Gives a loud sigh.)

All the characters sit in silence for another moment.

HSAPWAWBUWFALTSFACL: The shit don't stop until your casket drops!

LBTM and SSABSWTSOHP sit in silence, unsure whether or not to comment on HSAPWAWBUWFALTSFACL's outburst.

Another moment passes in silence.

SSABSWTSOHP stands up and quickly moves to the showers.

The End

(Curtain)

10 Thoughts On Viewing Sly Stone on the Kraft Music Hour

Join me as I work through an intense ongoing obsession over Sly & the Family Stone, fuelled as much by the recent reissues of their entire back catalog as it is by this video, showing the band performing on the Kraft Music Hall (titled here as Kraft Music Hour) circa 1967 (you can download an audio version of this televised performance here). After watching this video repeatedly about 15 times in one sitting, I have cemented the following observations:

1. Seriously, people--can you imagine how delirious it must have been to be a part of this small audience, being able to witness one of America's best soul/rock acts at the absolute peak of their immense musical powers, watching them pound out hit after glorious hit, one after the other, right before your eyes? Also, you're very stoned so clapping on the wrong beat doesn't mean you're not one with the universe.

2. How deliciously wicked it must have been to hear the racey "Don't Call Me Nigga, Whitey" performed during the usually squeaky-clean Kraft Music Hour. Company founder James L. Kraft must have been spinning in his grave (unless he was hip to this groove, in which case he was the coolest White guy ever born in 1874).

3. At the time, it must have been every musician's dream to play in this band. True, Sly Stone later became a cocaine-addled zombie, often failing to show up for stadium gigs and threatening his fellow band members with guns, but hey--think of the easy access you'd have had to Sly's drug stash.

4. I would give anything to be able to dance like the audience member grooving next to the drummer at the 3:10 mark except, you know, not in public and with no television cameras to preserve it for future generations.

5. When I see that woman's feet doing the little "chicken shuffle" step at the 6:25 mark, I always think, "I've got to incorporate that move into my life somehow. Perhaps I'll employ this dance while at the copy machine at work...see if it advances my career somewhat..."

6. It's difficult to understand why it took the FBI so many years to arrest radical activist Angela Davis. She's sitting right there at the 3:57 mark, Nixon Administration! Get on it!

7. That little here-we-go-round-the-PCP-bush jig which Sly Stone performs at the 7:50 mark is almost as amusing as the gold lamé blouse tied around his torso. The operative word here is: almost.

8. Regarding the platinum blonde hair atop the head of keyboard player and back-up singer Rose Stone--do you think the throw rug matched the slip cover?

9. It always makes me sad when Rob Reiner looks at the camera right at the 7:28 mark, because you just know Archie Bunker is watching this on TV and when he sees Meathead on his television set, there is going to be hell to pay when he gets home.

10. I'm going to stop with the observations. I just cued up viewing number 16.

My Mind Is An Open Book, Which You May Check Out For 2 Weeks (There Will Be A Fine For Any Overdue Items)

That rat-bastard weasel Underneathica and I are in a violent mad-dash race to see who can post a write-up sooner regarding the album Jungle Rot by George Brigman. What Underneathica fails to understand is that I am far more obsessed with anti-social drug addict shut-in musicians than he is--perhaps because I am an anti-social drug addict shut-in musician myself. Michael Yonkers, Todd Tamanend Clark...name any one of 'em and I start drooling all over my government-issue orange jumper. I am way more into Don't Bother Me than him. I am much more likely to be humming I'm Married, Too during a lull while stamping license plates than he would be. I hasten to add: perhaps Underneathica doesn't even have a job in the first place? It is I, with my verbally-challenged speaking skills, that allows me to be in touch emotionally, physically, spiritually and--yes, telepathically--with songs like It's Misery.

On a related note, if you find yourself writing an article about mega-popular actor/producer Tom Cruise and his long-term triumphant success in Hollywood, you might consider using the witty headline Cruise Control. Personally, I lean more towards the headline Dumb Fuck Scientology Sleazeball Buttface Sleazebag. It's got a little something sassy to it, ne c'est pas?

Bloggers Against Drunk And Sober Societies

Nyquil wasn't made for those days like today, when allergies have got your head so swollen you feel like a balloon with a pulse. No, it was made for those days like today, when you have mind-numbing allergies but you also want to experience the full sonic threshold of Rhys Chatham's epic long player Die Donnergotter at the same time. Take a few spoonfuls of that green elixir, pop that baby onto the headphones and let the almost 22-minute ride steer you to new heights of alcholic epiphany. Trust me--this is one time you'll want to drive drunk.

A Tricked Out Stingray

Here's what I think happened: All the creatures in the Kingdom we call Animal are able to talk clearly to each other, easy, and some alligator who was tired of being teased and taunted with pieces of meat and dangling babies passed it on down the line that it was time for revenge. Eventually, it reached Stella the Stingray, who decided it was time to teach this uppity Aussie that payback is a bitch. Another theory I possess: because His Funkiness The Pope-ster insulted the world's Muslims with his teasing and taunting, some Turkish Stingray terrorist is going to taunt and tease his ass during his visit next month, the same way the jocks used to tease and taunt the algebra prodigies at my grade school cafeteria at lunch time. The Turks are all, "We're going to kick your ass after school, your Eminence!". It's the same exact story, only way, way less violent and lacking a soundtrack. I would score this fight scene with Mazhar ve Fuat/Turkuz Turku Cagiririz and/or Uc Hurel/Hurel Arsivi, both taken from one of the latest in the Love, Peace & Poetry series, Turkish Psychedelic Music. How do you cry "Uncle!!" in Turkish? Be sure to visit The Crocodile Hunter website, which pays loving tribute to Irwin, offering dozens of pictures showing him as he harasses various wild animals in every corner of God's great land.

A Night In Catatonia

A Halloween hangover from last night's festivities has slightly damaged my mental facilities, so rather than fill out all the details of bizarro 1960's British guitarist/songwriter Big Boy Pete (known to his parents as Pete Miller), who has been writing and recording music for decades, I'd rather you just click here for his complete history (I think of the All-Music Guide as the Scrubbing Bubbles of music blogging: they work hard so I don't have to). The best part of performing archaelogical digs in the psychedelic era are the ridiculous lyrics, and there isn't a song on Homage To Catatonia that disappoints in this regard. Wrap your mind around such logic twisters as, "You candy-coated crimson flea/I know you spiked my cup of tea/You shot my bakelite toothbrush dead/And buried him inside my head..." (from Knit Me A Kiss), but what makes Big Boy Pete so much more interesting than most consciousness-expanding pop from the sixties is that his songs are so damn catchy. If you're not bobbing your head along to Captain Of My Toy Balloon or The Procession, perhaps it's time to turn in your Rock Lover Membership Card for a full refund. Open your doors of perception by purchasing this cd at Dionysus Records.

The Current Punk/Scuzz Pop Roll Call

A friend recently turned me on to a host of punk/scuzz pop bands, perhaps payback time for turning him on to Sudden Ensemble last year. Hailing from Anaheim, CA (home of the evil ABC/Disney/Mickey Mouse World Dominition HQ), The Willowz (above, left) have released Talk In Circles (on Sympathy For The Record Industry, top left) mixing primitive garage fuzz with scruffy screaming scrawl (need proof? try Unveil), which the musically-clueless Rolling Stone magazine compared to the ilk of Brian Wilson and The Beach Boys--huh??? Meanwhile, Demon's Claws, Memphis-by-way-of-Montreal blues rawk takes the legacy of bands such as The Oblivions, The Gun Club and other booze-addled fuck-ups and pushes the envelope to its logical conclusion--in short, they're anything but Laid Back. (Buy it at Dead Canary Records.) Finally, we end with The Casual Dots, alum of such indie punk royalty as Slant 6, The Frumpies and the mighty mighty Bikini Kill. The 'Dots self-titled debut is all upbeat energy and high-spirited sloppiness, which is all well and good, but how can you not like a song called Mama's Gonna Make Us A Cake? (Purchase it at Kill Rock Stars.)

Foxy (Disembodied Vocal) Lady

This song doesn't make any sense at all, even coming from the off-center mind of Neil Michael Hagerty. The rhythm stumbles along, as if recovering from each herky-jerky beat as it propels itself forward. The disembodied female vocals singing each non sequitur are so wrapped in layers of echo, so distanced from the action up front, that they almost come off as paranormal. Like the best songs of Captain Beefheart (or even The Shaggs), it contains its own inner logic. After Royal Trux dissipated, it didn't seem certain that Hagerty would be able to recoup his losses and regain what had been lost. With All-Night Fox, the latest cd by his new outfit, The Howling Hex, his fans can rest easy. Every track on this album is killer, and although Instilled With Mem'ry is arguably the least accessible song on the new cd, you still might find yourself banging your head (as best you can) as it grooves down its own crooked lane. You can purchase it at almost any record store you care to name (on-line or not) or get it direct from Drag City.

I Walked The Line With Johnny Cash

So much music to post and so many interruptions preventing me from doing so. First my birthday, and now this--my computer is making odd noises and needs to visit the Mac doc for a few days. Here, then, is an mp3 you'll have to make do with while my G4 is getting serviced, Man vs. The Empire Brain Building, featured on the Ze Records compilation cd Mutant Disco #3: Garage Sale (top left). This track originally came out on the Was (Not Was) album Born To Laugh At Tornadoes (bottom left) back in 1983, a favorite cd of mine which some asshole swiped from my collection during a raccous house party about 10 years ago. Until Ze Records reissues that wonderful album (which they have been promising to do for at least a year), this is all I have to tide me over. Although every track in the Mutant Disco series is worth owning, I've always had a fondness for the music of Was (Not Was), if only because they openly admit that every album they made was influenced by taking LSD. You can find this superb cd at Forced Exposure. I promise to include more tracks from this cd in the future, as soon as my Mac is up and running again.

Music Video Du Jour

My ultimate wish would be to see Vitalic perform live. Until then, I have to make do with this. You'll come for the cheesecake but you'll stay for the air drums.