Saturday, September 23, 2006

Junk Jackson -- September 23, 2006

1. Bright Eyes -- "You Will. You? Will. You," from Lifted

A picture is worth 1,000 words...1,000 pretentious, silly words. Here it is:



2. John Baker -- "Chino," from Music from the BBC Radiophonic Workshop

"BBC Radiophonic Workshop" was codespeak for a Top-Secret 1960's Collaboration between the CIA and MI6 to stall Soviet influence in Central America, which was creating static for the Brits among the remnants of its colony in Belize...and was a little too close to America's back door for the Yanks' comfort.

"Chino" was the moniker for an operation neutralizing an arms dealers who sold one too many "bananas" to the Reds.

"John Baker" is the nom de guerre of the agent who conducted this whole symphony. He has yet to come in from the Cold. Here's his last known picture (image declassified 23 February 1991):



3. Nirvana -- "Polly," from Nevermind

Every month I Google myself and see what's out there. Previously on this blog I made some innocent jokes about Bette Midler. Well, it turns out the official Bette Midler fan site is a monsterbeast of 1984-like dimensions. It cached my name and comes up when I google my own name. No joke. It has in essence become part of my identity. Just because I made one simple joke...In fact, this post will probably get my name cached a second time...drawing me even closer to those giant, heaving Bette Midler's of hers.

The same kind of thing happened with Nirvana, but with pop culture instead of Ms. Bette. That's why this song resonates.



Oh! Please forgive me Bette, and spare me from yon merciless wrath!

4. Sam Cooke -- "Fool's Paradise," from Night Beat

The Holy Trinity of Truth...








5. LL Cool J -- "Droppin' Em," from Walking With a Panther

I flip Rhymes like an acrobat
And avoid combat like a diplomat


Man, I really want the old LL to come back. I've asked before what he's now up to. There was the swirl of UPN-show-Deep-Blue-Seaness...and I suppose a looming line of clothing. LL Cool Bean.

Which I guarantee will find its niche market.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Jimmy Saffron, September 19, 2006

1. Petula Clark – “Heart,” from Girl Group Sounds of the Sixties (One Kiss Can Lead to Another)

There is some serious lobbying happening on behalf of this box set within my iPod. If my iPod is Capitol Hill, this box set is Big Oil.

This song takes its sweet time, which makes me like it. I like to take my sweet time, too. Doing what, you ask? What do you think? What do you think I like taking my sweet ass time with? I think you know. I think you know and just don’t want to say.

Uh-huh. Yep. You know.

2. Radiohead – “Dollars & Cents,” from Amnesiac

That’s what I call poor sequencing on the part of my iPod.

I know, the iPod is not a sentient being. It has no intelligence or "taste." It can’t be blamed for following up that first choice cut with this pretentious snoozer, for taking this mix from “boner-inducing” to “boner-reducing” in less than a second. Typical iPod spin, always hiding behind its randomness.

You know what I miss most about the America of my youth, with its radio stations and live DJ’s. Little thing called “accountability. “

3. Fred McDowell - “Goin’ Down To Louisiana,” from Mississippi Blues

This song has a tight hold on the #4 slot of my “Bally’s Tai Bo/Treadmill Thighs-Be-Gone-in-the-’06 Mixx.”

Believe it.

4. The Black Keys – “Grown So Ugly,” from Rubber Factory

I saw these guys last week. The good news is my dick grew by 4 inches. The bad news is its gotten very opinionated.

5. Spacehog – “The Horror,” from The Hogyssey

Some say Spacehog should have stopped after The Chinese Album. And there’s a valid argument there, because The Chinese Album is a work of genius. But they titled their followup record The Hogyssey, and that act of Homeric-level hubris alone deserves recognition.

6. Ramones – “I Can’t Be (Demo),” from Ramones

I watched a documentary about The Ramones called “End of the Century,” and its effect on me was something I never could have predicted. It made me love Johnny Ramone. Crabby, unapologetic, reactionary Johnny, the taskmaster. Dee Dee come across as a crazy person, and Joey like a sweet, dopey alien. Johnny was honest.

7. Deerhoof – “You Can See,” from The Runners Four

Somewhere, right now, a Pitchfork editor can’t understand why his girlfriend doesn’t find this music adorable.

8. Simon & Garfunkel – “Cloudy,” from Old Friends

I heard there’s a school of psychology that places every element of a man’s personality into two distinct categories: the Simon and the Garfunkel. The Simon in me thinks it preposterous that the two categories should get equal weight. The Garfunkel in me thinks it’s a wonderful idea, really groovy, thanks so much.

9. Shudder to Think – “Tony Told Me,” from Funeral At The Movies

Thank god Craig Wedren decided to use the power of his vibratto for good and not evil. Cause that shit could topple buildings.

I heard Bush wants to launch a pre-emptive strike on Wedren’s studio apartment to keep him from supplying his voice to terrorists. It could happen. 9/11 changed everything.

Well, not everything. I still can’t decide what color I want to paint the walls in my bedroom. It’s also that I don’t know how much longer I’ll be in that apartment, so I keep putting the whole thing off.

Never forget.

10. A.C. Newman – “Drink To Me, Babe, Then,” from The Slow Wonder

I heard Bob Newhart put out this record during a hiatus from his Canadian power-pop supergroup The Newhart Pornographers.

Pitchfork gave it a 5.4. They only like when he records with Neko Pleshette.

Monday, September 11, 2006

Dr. Milton von Fünkdoctorspock, September 11, 2006

1. Blur – “Fade Away,” from The Great Escape

Remember that first time you heard an Oasis song and didn’t hate it? Maybe you didn’t like it per se, or maybe you didn’t realize it was Oasis, or maybe you were 17 beers deep, roofied and in Britain, where they drugged you and made you karaoke “Wonderwall.”

I’m not saying which one I was. And I still don’t like Oasis. Or have any of their albums. But this is the Brit pop album that made me realize some Brit pop is tolerable. Even when not roofied.

2. The Beatles – “Your Mother Should Know,” from Anthology 2

Where you live, how to get in touch with you in case of emergency, your birthday, etc etc, but she shouldn’t necessarily know if you’ve been roofied. It would only make her worry.

3. Bruce Springsteen – “Out in the Street,” from The River

In the olden days, pioneer lore says a roofie was called a bear tranquilizer, and it could be administered from up to 300 yards away, making it a favorite of pioneering sexual predators.

4. Moby – “One of These Mornings,” from 18

This is Moby’s roofie protest album. The title represents the legal age of consent in most states (it’s still 7 in Utah—you can probably guess why).

5. Beck – “Boyz,” from a b-side thing

A Midnite Vultures era rarity. I needn’t tell you what the song title or album title mean. You’re not that naïve.

6. John Coltrane – “Mr P.C.,” from The Heavyweight Champion

John: You want to ride my Col-train, baby?
Baby: Not tonight.
John: At least let me buy you a drink.
Baby: Thanks, how nice of you.

7. Kings of Leon – “Day Old Blues,” from Aha Shake Heartbreak

The nice thing about being in a young, handsome rock band who likes to party is you never have to resort to roofies to take pictures of a naked lady. Which is why more parents should encourage their kids to start rock bands.

8. Sonic Youth – “No. II (Part 3),” from TV Shit

SY ponders why there are so few ads on TV denouncing the use of roofies. If we have ads for this is your brain on drugs, what about this is your brain on roofies? And there’s an egg. And the egg hatches. But the chick inside is unconscious. And in struts a rooster (a.k.a. “cock”)….

9. Smashing Pumpkins – “The Beginning is the End is the Beginning,” from The End is the Beginning is the End

I wrote an anti-roofie hip hop number. In it, the roofier works as a roofer. Not because I think roofers are roofiers, just because it had good flow. Real good flow.

10. Travis – “Dear Diary,” from The Invisible Band

As staunchly as I support ending all sexual violence, I always find the “Dear Diary” protest format a little hokey. But god bless ‘em for trying….