A stream of absurdities

Dear friends,

I'm leaving my job and starting a new career. In celebration, I give you...The Pointer Sisters!

Anita, June and Ruth are so excited!

1. Neutron Dance/The Pointer Sisters (video)

Don't front. You LOVED Beverly Hills Cop. You thought it was dope and this song makes you do the robot. Ah, thick neon green bright socks of yore. You never see those in 80's revival movies, I think it's a shame. Costumers of the world, take note!

2. My favorite of the Sisters is the basso profundo Ruth Pointer. Her dark, rough edged vocal quality stands in hard contrast next to her sweeter voiced siblings. In the harmonies, her voice, subway level low, adds rumble and texture as opposed to the usual pretty.

Automatic/The Pointer Sisters (Soul Train video)

Automatic sounds like aria sung by a computer with emphysema. The fact that it's about disconnection and passion clashing makes it weirdly poignant. I picture this ancient machine whirring away, the following words popping up on the screen: I don't understand. I'm not supposed to feel anything. I'm a computer. But I am losing it...for your love! My system is down, down down! Etc...

Why no one has covered this song is beyond me.

On a side note, these outfits are out of hand. I dedicate this to my friend Marta.

3. Fire/The Pointer Sisters (video)

Best pop song about being a cold, tempestuous tease. Thank you Mr. Bruce.

4. You Can Can (Feat. Gaylord Birch)/The Pointer Sisters (video)

Four of 'em! Yes, that would be Bonnie Pointer before she left to go solo. Sweet harmonies and funk like two scoops of vanilla with cherries on top. Be sure to watch the drum solo/breakdown at 3:03. Very tasty.

5. Last but not least...

Pinball Number Count/The Pointer Sisters (Sesame Street video)

If this is how you learned how to count, I'd like to meet you.

Love, D

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Baby, you drive me crazy...

I saw the Jesus & Mary Chain play at Webster Hall last Monday.* I'd been looking forward to it for ages- I bought a ticket the morning they went on sale despite the $55 ticket price (Which included $10 in TicketWeb fees. And that's with the will call option! Jerks.)

Here's what it looked like from where I was standing (apologies for the crappy camera phone shot):

My initial impression? Eh. My friend Mark thought they sounded like the Jesus & Mary Chain doing karaoke versions of their own songs. But I'm starting to reassess that. I've been singing Far Gone and Out and Between Planets all week. I changed my MySpace profile song to Happy When it Rains. I rewatched Lost in Translation specifically for that final scene where Bill Murray gets out of the cab and chases Scarlett Johansson down the street to whisper something in her ear. Something that makes her cry. And smile. And then Just Like Honey plays as they part.

So yeah, I guess I liked it. Or, more accurately, I like that the show made me revisit albums and movies I love, but rarely listen to or watch anymore. And I love that I still love them. Oh, and I also love that the bartender forgot to charge me for a round of drinks. Made me feel a little better about spending $55 on the ticket.

*Music Snobbery has a set list here. Brooklyn Vegan has photos from the Tuesday show here.

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This is why I love Daniella (and Radiohead)

A few weeks ago D & I were coming back from some show or party, we were a little tipsy, and it was probably around 2am. In that state, whatever conversation we had would be completely forgotten by morning, except that we ended up having one of our recurring arguments over a Radiohead song, Morning Bell. I prefer the dreamier, insomniac version from Amnesiac, while she prefers the Kid A version. I probably put more emphasis on the musical style, and she is more interested in the meaning or lyrics. Her entire preference is based on a single word: "please". Thom sings "Release me... please" on the Kid A version, but it becomes "yeah" on the Amnesiac version. It would almost go unnoticed, but D has a knack for digging into meanings.

In the end I really don't care one way or the other, but what I do care about is how awesome it is that I can have this conversation with someone about a minute detail of my favorite band? It's very nice.

* * *

A few years ago I worked in an office on 31st Street just outside of Madison Square Garden.

One day I met D after work, and I sighed as we walked passed the giant "RADIOHEAD" marquee, knowing that it's impossible to get tickets. We were almost to the other end of the block when D pulls 2 tickets out of her bag and says "We could go home, or we could go there..."

She somehow used her connections and snagged a couple tickets. It was one of the best concerts I've ever been to, rivaling even my first concert experience when I saw Pink Floyd in 1994.

* * *

Rewind to 4 years ago, I had just moved to Park Slope to share an apartment with Tina and we're having a house-warming party. This was back when D & I were just friends. Radiohead tickets went on sale the following morning for $2, as part of some special Radio promotion. My plan was to stay up all night, then go early the next morning to wait in line. "Who's with me?"

D was the only one brave enough, or obsessed with Radiohead enough to accept. After a nice early breakfast at Katina's Diner we ventured uptown. Of course we didn't get tickets, there were much more hardcore fans who camped out over night to get them. But not getting the tickets just made it that much sweeter when we saw them later. For music geeks like me, this was much more romantic (though not really intended) then say... a carriage ride in Central Park.

See for yourselves which version of "Morning Bell" you like best...

Morning Bell (Kid A version)/Radiohead (mp3)

Morning Bell (Amnesiac version)/Radiohead (mp3)

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Once upon a time we used to count stars on a clear night

Dear friends,

1. I'm going to hide the Lost finale ruminations at number 3 so don't read that number if you don't wanna know anything. In any case I'll be very unspecific since I was darting in and out the entire finale. I had a house to clean.

2. Thanks to The Song Corporation track I just storied* about, I've been thinking about people who are drawn to seemingly unresponsive partners. Take for instance, this Polvo song from one of my favorite records, Exploded Drawing. The narrator very much wants to know and understand the person he's with but is stymied at every turn by their aloofness. The music reflects their exhanges in that the verse lines go back and forth like a sing-songy argument between children. It doesn't really matter. The jaunty, purposely out of tune guitar line that underscores the chorus says it all: I adore this cold, pragmatic individual. I don't understand them but I'm hooked.


Taste of Your Mind/Polvo (mp3)

Buy Exploded Drawing by Polvo.

3. Oh Lost. The Hype Machine will be hopping with Scentless Apprentice today. There will be head scratching. There will be huhs? It was a strange finale.


- I'm not a Jack fan. Matthew Fox's clenched jaw plus blinking and striding about purposefully in a cut off shirt acting makes me crazy. That being said, I thoroughly enjoyed his turn as drunk, pill popping, living in a room full of maps Future Jack. It made his complete nervous breakdown way more earned than all his previous "I need to saaaave people!" hissy fits. I actually felt bad for the guy FOR ONCE. So point one for Lost writers.

- Face it, the Nirvana was there to make us think it was "Jack, The Grunge Years." So unless Jack is gonna start killing virgins for their scent, there is no hidden message.

- Seriously, resolve the Kate/Jack/Sawyer issue. Everyone is so damn fickle. Enough already with these backpack confessions.

- I don't actually believe the writers know who is in that coffin. Though judging by what Jack said about it not being friend or family, my vote's on Locke.

- I expected to give a victory shout when they finally killed good ole Chah-ley but I actually felt bad for the little hobbit. He was a lot of fun in this episode especially in his exchanges with the Lara Croft wannabees in the Aquahatch. I think, unfortunately, that the Charlie/Claire storyline did him no favors. There was nothing in their relationship to really root for so the characters became pointless, arguing mouthpieces with no sexual chemistry whatsoever.

- Evenflooooow!

- Where the hell was Penelope? The books on the bookshelf behind her looked painted on! Come on Art Department! You couldn't find a few real books?! And uh, why was she the first thing that popped up on the screen? That was the most nonsensical piece of business yet. Minus ten points for the Lost writers.

- So is Walt...Jacob? Or rather is Jacob's gift that he can project the image of a loved one to people? Jack/his Dad, Ben/his mom, Eko/his brother**, Kate/My Little Pony, etc? Or is that the island's doing? Also, why is Walt fifteen years old all of a sudden?

- My first favorite moment (which came right after Ben's hilariously tossed off "That's your mother" line) was when after tenderly cradling Alex's face, Rousseu's first words to her daughter are "Will you help me tie him up?" That was almost telenovela nuts!

- My second favorite moment in the whole episode is when Rousseau elbowed Ben in the face to shut him up. Most actors would try and play that moment all Die Hard style, not her. She looked bored and impatient, like can this episode be over now?

- Three years later and we still don't know anything about Smokey?!?! Except that in addition to being a murderous smoke monster, he is also an amateur photographer who overuses the flash button.

- I thought Lost hated Latinos since they KILL ALL OF THEM. Thankfully, ageless, metrosexual "Other" Roger Richard*** is still kicking. Love ya, my eyeliner-ed friend. Keep on keeping on!

- Aw. Mr. Friendly R.I.P. They did set that one up though in season one. Couldn't call it unexpected really.

- Buh bye Naomi, the Mancunian parachutist. Your accent will be missed.

- Can someone make "My plane crashed on a mystical island and all I got was a golden ticket" t-shirts?

- I can't remember how it started...did it start with the Beard? And if so, does this mean that next year the flashbacks will be island ones?

- Why am I left feeling dissatisfied despite the admittedly brilliant flashforward conceit?

Love, D

* Yes. I know that's not a word.

** You may have a vague memory of Eko realizing that it was not his brother and saying so right before he got smoked.

*** Special shout out to Bruiser for pointing out my error. I blame Dickens and all things Dickensian.

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Pourquoi un homme, plutot qu'un autre

Dear friends,

Slight change of pace today...

1. A (very) short story

A Novel Idea

She had a white blouse with a pearl button clasp at the wrist; this was my in. I had been watching her all night at a dinner party thrown by a guy I didn't like very much, but who could cook well. She was sipping red wine and nodding to the person seated next to her. She seemed engrossed but it was hard to say whether it was the talk or her own thoughts. I took the time to take her in. Hence the photographic memory of that blouse: the detail of it, the ruffle at the collar and the length of her neck. The way she used her hands when she spoke, her fingers. Her hands barely moved but when they did it was with grace and precision. I couldn't hear her but I hoped her voice was low and measured. Something to match the way she looked. I didn't think I would get to talk to her. The host had kindly seated me at the other end of the table with all the reprobates. Of course, I did talk to her. It took three glasses of wine and finding her pearl button in the hallway. I pocketed it and caught her in the coat room as she was leaving. I think I said hey and held out my palm, button at its center. She grabbed her wrist reflexively; her thumb searching for the clasp, then reached out and took back the pearl. Months later she told me that it was my smile that won her. I remember smiling; it was when she said thank you and I finally heard her voice.

* * *

Fragment from a cafe conversation with friend M.

M: You're an idiot.

S: Thanks.

M: I'm being serious. You are so irritating. She wasn't meant for you. She never reciprocated. You said so! You were in love with her because she's beautiful and...

S: (Interrupting) No. That's not true.

M: Yes, it is. She was beautiful and you were totally delighted to show off your beautiful girlfriend to EVERYBODY.

S: Okay, that's a little bit true but that wasn't why I loved her.

M: You also loved her 'cause she was cold.

S: What?

M: She was cold. And unreadable. You loved that because it meant you could project whatever you wanted onto her.

(Silence. Waiter refills glasses. More silence.)

S: That's the cruelest thing you've ever said to me.

M: Sorry. What can I say? She was cool and distant and you loved it. And that's more fucked up than anything else that may or may not have happened.

* * *

You have to understand, I'm the type of guy who until then had dated women one could only describe kindly as "animated." Or, if you were being unkind, “drunk.” She was different. For one, she barely drank. She kept a date book. Her handwriting was even and absurdly perfect. She only had one purse and one suitcase. Everything about her was contained and that trait informed everything she did. I'd watch her get ready for work and marveled at the ease of it. She told me that her parents were disasters and that she'd raised herself. "That's why I'm never late; I've had a lot of practice." I thought of her as a child getting herself ready for school in a big house full of ashtrays and empty bottles. I wanted to be there too. To walk her to the bus, to keep her company, for a while at least. Not that she seemed traumatized by it. I only ever saw her cry once. It was a little before the end of things. She was reading a book in bed. It was something I would never read in a million years, a biography or something. She didn't make a noise, that's why I noticed. I hadn't heard her breathe in for a while so I turned and looked. She was staring straight ahead and her eyes were full of tears. They looked like glass. Her mouth was open, it seemed like she was trying to say something but she didn't speak. I didn't ask her what was wrong, I was scared to. I turned over and pretended to fall asleep. Eventually she turned out the light. She never mentioned anything about it. The next day we had coffee and rode the train together. She might have squeezed my hand goodbye. I can't quite remember.

* * *

A message on the answering machine

Hey, it's me. I've had some unexpected...(unintelligible, traffic noise) come up and I need to go home for a bit. I don't think I'll be able to call you for a couple of days but we'll talk when I get back.

* * *

We haven't really kept in touch but that's my fault mostly. Things were polite though I fell apart a bit. Unwashed dishes, sleepwalking at work, mirthless eating; the usual tell-tale signs of middling loss. It wasn't her fault. I don't think my friends ever had the right impression of her. She was warmer than she appeared. Every now and then I heard her laugh, her real laugh, not the laugh you perfect for strangers. Something different and sparkling. I've been thinking of her recently. My new girlfriend gave me that same book for my birthday. It's sitting on the nightstand, collecting dust.

2. A song

A Novel Idea/The Song Corporation (mp3)

This gauzy, beautiful whisper of a track is not about alabaster lovers but it did inspire the tiny fiction pasted above. I tried to imagine the woman in it and what she is and isn't capable of saying to the person she is addressing. In my story, he doesn't let her talk because it's safer not to know.

photo by Bryan Bruchman

The Song Corporation has a full-length CD coming out in September. A Novel Idea is on that CD. More details TBA.

Befriend The Song Corporation on My Space.

Love, D

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So come away

Dear friends,

1. The Monkey is in a band. Yes, it's true! He actually does stuff besides put up with my music nerd babbling. Tonight his band is having a listening party for their brand new CD at The Delancey. It starts at 7:30PM. It's free, The DJ is great and if you are one of the first 25 to arrive you will also get free BBQ*. See you there?

2. My friend Olga from Neon Lights alums Bell has moved in to Pianos for a Tuesday residency. Earfarm has some stuff from their last show. I hear the 90s cover tonight is going to give people flashbacks. Make sure you catch Balun who is playing at 9. Wouldn't it be great if they joined Bell on a song? Hmmm... One can dream.

3. My plan to live blog the Lost finale with The Muggabears has fallen through due to Travis Muggabears inability to withstand my singing "Evenflooooow!" every time Desmond makes an appearance. Sorry dood. Can't help it. I'll still write about it though. Expect ! and ? and #$%&@!

Love, D

* CORRECTION: As per JLM in the comments, the first 25 people to arrive who have RSVPed on Going.com get free BBQ. So if you want the free, go RSVP.

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Where all of this is heading

Dear friends,

I crave the smell of cigarettes when I'm out at night. Not all the time. Usually at shows, just after people leave the venue and stand huddled together on a sidewalk, smoke rising from their mouths. I sit there with my glass of wine and fight the urge to run out and join them.

I was never a heavy smoker ever, no pack a day habit or anything, but I started young. Young enough that I'm embarrassed to say when I started. This is partly why I quit recently. I didn't go the patch route. No hypnotism. No acupuncture. No one pressured me into it. I just decided to give it a try. I'm still trying. It's a process.

This Beauty Pill song is not about cigarettes. It sounds like a time capsule buried in your backyard. The items inside speak of apathy. A postcard with something cryptic on it, a polaroid of a blur. It's almost empty really and it appears to exist only to rattle you. You can put it back where you found it or you can try to change the outcome. It's up to you.

Only one of these folks plays on this song

Cigarette Girl From The Future/Beauty Pill (mp3)

Buy Cigarette Girl From The Future by Beauty Pill.

Befriend them on My Space.

Love, D

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Como una Latina

Dear friends,

1. The Monkey and I have weekend rituals that involve big breakfasts and watching the morning re-runs of Best Week Ever and The Soup. I like to chortle while I drink my coffee because it's a fact: Caffeine + Snark = Gold! Anywho, imagine my utter confusion and delight when I followed this link from the Best Week Ever blog and it led me back to here. Jigga huh? Yup. Sadly, our name is not "A Musical Swap Meet" but since the Soft Communication banner had gone on a mini-break, I can understand the switcheroo. I love you BWEB, you consistently make with the funny, all is forgiven!

2. Another cycle of ANTM comes to a close and I don't care what any of you say I love, love, love my faux-deaf, faux-tranny Latina. She is fierce!

Cha Cha Diva channels Ally Sheedy in The Breakfast Club

Felicidades Jaslene! Once again, my favorite wins!

3. It's SC MP3 Flashback time! This is an entry from last year called Ice Baby I Saw Your Girlfriend featuring selections from Elvis Costello, The White Stripes, Pavement, The Smiths and uh...Falco. Downloads available for a limited time only so go enjoy the 80's German balladry while you can!

Love, D

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The days go much too long

Dear friends,

1. Jade McNelis has a voice that curls up in the corners like a bright red leaf in the sun and her song Life in Grey is as brief as that leaf's trajectory from branch to street. The tune is hushed, playful and has a tinge of Brit-psychedelia which makes it sound quite unlike the drudgery implied by the title. Despite the lyrics, which hint at some unspecified ambivalence, McNelis' vocal flutters about languidly in a way that says she could never be trapped by something as simple as uncertainty, she's far too content.

Recommended for:

- Those who wish it would stay breezy and cool so you could luxuriate just a little bit longer in the blue sky prettiness.

- Those who love winsome vocalists in the vein of Feist and Regina Spektor.

Ms McNelis, multi-tasking

Life in Grey/Jade McNelis (mp3)

Buy All the Fables EP by Jade McNelis. (Amazon CA)

Jade McNelis plays Union Hall on Thursday, May 31st. Befriend her on My Space.

2. Blame Neon Lights* partner Jeff K for this one. Thanks to him, I'm now kind of obsessed with this group. Holy crap! Who are they? What are they? Can they play a show for me? Like uh...NOW?

Video to seek:

Street Jizz/Ssion (video)

Befriend SSion on My Space.

Love, D

* Speaking of which, we have something up our kimono sleeves. Soon children. Soon.

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Their splendid, sparkling fire

Dear friends,

I don't know if Dull Flame of Desire by Björk is brassed up in its original incarnation but I can't get enough of hearing it in my head the way I heard it at Radio City Music Hall last Wednesday. The bright orange dot (for this is how I saw her from my balcony perch) chirped "Antony!" and a tall man dressed like a manatee* came out. Fah real, Antony is super tall. Björk is small. They stood side by side, a bright saffron and a muted gray. The horns started a slow, stately procession, like a herd of elephants walking in the dust. The orange and gray nodded along. The smaller one began to sing.

Let me stop a moment to say that I knew that this collaboration existed and I had been looking forward to it. Björk has a knack for finding appropriate vocal foils and Antony with his vibrating, muscular alto (yes, alto) seemed like just the right match. Of course, I couldn't quite imagine what this would sound like and I went into this show without having heard any of the Volta tracks because I wanted a surprise.

I wasn't sure what to think at first. The song is SO SLOW. The two dots didn't sing together initially and Antony seemed nervous during his opening parts. They went back and forth, as if they were discussing a shared secret. The nodding grew more fervent. At one point, around the time that Björk started to go higher with her glass kite voice, Antony warmed up and let loose. I've never seen him live and to all you hatahs out there, the vibrato is FINE. It sounds alive, warm, in your hands and surprisingly, way more traditional than you'd think if you were just going by the recordings. I was so pleased to finally hear it live.

The brass background didn't change at all, it remained stately and thick-sounding. But that's fine, the only thing that needs to change in the song is the relationship between the two voices. They become more and more invested in one another until they're intertwined. Towards the end, Antony, who had been still for most of the performance, started jumping up and down along to Björk part (she smothered an audible giggle at this) and his excitement was ours. Dull Flame of Desire works its magic on you subtly; it has the slow burning thrill of new and unexpected love.

Photo by Kathryn Yu via Pitchfork

To hear this particular live rendition go download it from the fab Kwaya Na Kisser.

Buy Volta by Björk.

I got these on Emusic. Not from this show but still...gorgeousness.

All Is Full of Love (Live)/Björk (mp3)

Pagan Poetry (Live)/Björk (mp3)

Buy Vespertine Live by Björk from Emusic.

Love, D

* Not an actual costume but this shapeless shift in gray tones. I've been obsessed with manatees lately (they're smarter than you'd think!) and because I couldn't see very well, it was more fun to picture a singing manatee than squint.

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Obsessed Again

Hey yo hey,

Back from Golden Week.

My skin is smooth as polished glass and smells faintly sulphuric from the many mountain hot springs that served as my mode of cleansing for the week I spent traipsing the humid southern island of Kyushu. Some envision beaches when they plot their precious escapes. I tackle steamy off-the-road onsen cheek to cheek with befuddled farmers. The conversation was lively. There is only honesty between naked people.

I return with charming photos, a musical rambling or two and happily tetanus-free.

Are you by chance feeling gloomy?

Might I reccomend some Blue Hearts?

Linda Linda was the feel good song of the 80's. A certainly upbeat punk outfit if ever one existed, The Blue Hearts hail from the era of skinny neon ties and white leather fringe. Here they are legend. Currently, I wish they and not plastic jewelry would make a comeback. If you wants a crowd of Japanese thirty-somethings a-jumpin and a-meowin', you will know to bust out with Hiroto Komotou's classic ugly meat-grinder voice:

Dobu nezumi mitai ni (I look like a sewer rat)
Utsukushiku naritai (But I wanna be beautiful)
Shashin ni wa utsuranai (It won't turn up in photographs)
Utsukushisa ga aru kara. (Because beauty is there)

They even include a honky-friendly chorus:

Linda Lindaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Linda Linda Lindaaaa-aaaaa

Speaking of the 80's, may I ask with semi-assurance that a majority of the people I now address have viewed/heard of or has a friend/mum/cat who has viewed/heard of Kill Bill Vol. 1?

I adored that soundtrack.

The 5,6,7,8's didn't do much for me. They kinda sounded like a kid sister of Shonen Knife. I fell more for the sensual enka ballad of O-Ran's last stand ("Flower of Carnage" by Meiko Kaji) and that song that kept playing every time Uma Thurman got pissed off.

That was a remix of a classic song by Tomoyasu Hotei aka my new obsession du jour. (said classic song Battle Without Honor or Humanity)

Everything about him wants you to know he is man with whom not to fuck.

He's huge, for one thing. A tall, tall man. Who knows what was in his kyushoku growing up but his stature and skill are intimidating. His guitar wants to find you and make sure you don't rat on him. Or at least rock until the floors crack. He croons with every ounce of Bowie's steel and none of his frippery.

All the way to Osaka, we disturbed the relative peace of the Tohoku Expressway with his first album Guitarhythm Forever Vol. 1. 80's as you please, the second the taiko drums started on "Sayonara Andy Warhol", we knew we were in for many unwashed and unplanned adventures. "Radio!Radio!Radio!", "Siren" and "Serious?" all brought me back to a place I never saw in a time I'll never forget.

Still feeling crumpled? Let's see, I'm pretty sure I had some candy floating around the bottom of my bag.

Kojima Mayumi is a swanky hepcat of the early 90's whose sound resonates the early 60's. She was on her game before Miss Apple was even out of high school. She sings like a cat, a touchable tease and I can see without looking what she's wearing. For some reason boys flock to her like lemmings to the sea. All my guy friends have been unconditionally smitten with her. I found her one day rummaging through my college boyfriend's CD mixes. Right up there with Offspring, Skinny Puppy, and Korn, there was Kojima Mayumi.

Check out my personal favorites "Manatsu no Umi" (Midsummer Sea) or "Hatsukoi" (First Love). For a schizophrenic bossa nova ditty, go attack "Ano Ko wa Abunai yo" (That Boy is Dangerous). It goes from a sunny street cafe on the West Side to Carnival in Rio with pleasing swiftness.

Let's see, what else I got for ya?

When I first got into Ringo, I had been searching high and low for a Japanese band that didn't sound remotely like it came off an anime soundtrack. Right before I bit the apple, my hot and dusty bartender lent me his Elephant Kashimashi CD and I was very very pleased.

Mayonaka no Hero had me from the word "sousaaa." The opening riff didn't hurt either.

Ai no Yume o Kure (Gimme Dreams of Love) made me want to smoke, purr and wear leather which pleased my bartender to no end. I would make comparisons if I was any good at all with names but you know I'm not so I'll just say that they rock in an old time kind of way and you should definitely check them out. They're dated and not the easiest to find so ask a Japanese comrade, pillage your closest bit torrent, or e-mail me and I'll be glad to hook you up.

I will close by saying for reasons I can't explain, I am listening to Rip Slyme. I don't really go for the Japanese take on hip-hop but their groovy song Masterpiece amuses me. I find many Japanese dudes singing in English funny and I'll take a smile where I can get it. Tomorrow there will be work.

Songs to Seek:

The Blue Hearts/Linda Linda
Tomoyasu Hotei 布袋寅泰/ Sayonara Andy Warholさよならアンディ・ウォーホル/ /Serious?/ Radio!Radio!Radio!/Battle Without Honor or Humanity/Siren
Kojima Mayumi 小島麻由美/ Manatsu no Umi/Hatsukoi/ Ano ko wa Abunai yo
Elephant Kashimashi/ Ai no Yume o Kure/ Mayonaka no Hero
Rip Slyme/Masterpiece

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I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him

Dear friends,

1. This isn't a post. It's a placeholder. Went to see Björk last night at Radio City Music Hall. It was fantastic. Tomorrow I'll talk more about it and include and mp3.

2. Of course I cried. I. Cry. Every. Time. I. See. Her. Live. But best believe, they were proud and stoic tears of the rolling gently down the cheek variety. It started during All Is Full of Love, came back at the end of Pagan Poetry and returned on Joga, a song which I've heard a bazillion times, it's not even my favorite, but man oh man does it hit ya.

3. Antony is the bomb. I've said this before but I'll say it again. And in more detail tomorrow.

4. Lasers! Neon colored outfits! All lady brass band! Flags!

5. For brass and flags look here:

Earth Intruders (Live on SNL)/Björk (video)

6. Brooklyn Vegan has the set list and photos.

Love, D

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I tried but I just can't leave

Dear friends,

Gabe is a friend of mine. When his legs were covered with scaffolding (long story) we used to talk about how, in another ancient lifetime, we would've been snacks for saber tooth tigers. All the cave people would scamper off, covered in skins, leaving us helpless little cripples behind going "Aw crap." Years later, new, improved and no longer "in construction," Gabe, that's Gabriel Miller-Phillips to you, has been busy; playing around town, recording an EP and completing a mini-tour with Alina Simone. His voice is equal parts Jeff Buckley and Lou Reed. There is the high, swooping tremulousness of the former and the dry, murmur and snap of the other. An odd combo that meshes beautifully.

Leave Him Alone* is one of those sad story-songs that get more and more intimate with each listen. I haven't lived that particular story but it can't help but become mine. The last time I heard it live, the journey of it was so vivid, I could see the colors of the bedspread, the dust gathering on the windowsill and feel the ache of not being able to let go of something, even though it kills you just a little every day.

photo by Bryan Bruchman

Song to seek:

Leave Him Alone/Gabriel Miller-Phillips (mp3)

Buy Shoot The Moon by Gabriel Miller-Phillips

Befriend him on My Space.

Love, D

* Leave Him Alone bears a resemblance to Thirteen by Big Star; it has the same leisurely stroll feel. Of course, the lyrics to Leave Him Alone are serious as cancer and the romantic longing is subverted. I don't know if the homage was intentional (if it was, someone's very clever indeed) but it may be part of why you expect a lighter outcome.

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