Remember that 'West Wing' episode with Edward James Olmos?

That's what I'm saying.

Fucking Jersey-- "Yes to gays settling down, no to the fourth amendment!"

Thank God it's fatal

January is almost dead. Thank God. I've never been so happy to see a month leave. If I can make it through the shortest month of the year with the brutal cold (22 today, son! TWENTY TWO!), then March will bring Spring weather (and some awesome shows).

I don't want to scare you, but...

Bookmark this.

Well, at least he's still got his health.

From othermusic.com

The Shins are not a prolific band. No matter how pretty Ms. Portman is, she was still dead wrong when she infamously stated that this unassuming bunch-of Pixies fans from New Mexico were "life-changing." The Shins aren't the type of band that has mountains of b-sides waiting for discovery. They aren't the type of band prone to releasing double albums, or even single albums with running times breaking the half-hour mark. They get in, and get out. And it's with all due respect that I state, that for whatever Shins frontman/songwriting guru, James Mercer, lacks in prolificacy, he surely makes up for it in the jaw-dropping economy of his tunes.
On The Shins' long-awaited third album, Wincing the Night Away, Mercer has never sounded more liberal, playing with the space within his songs. For a group that previously seemed so easy to pin down, utterly identifiable all as there own with little of their alleged influences ever bleeding through the din of cryptic boyish alliteration and reverb-soaked clean-channel guitar lines, Wincing is the sound of a band trying to reinvent themselves in a myriad of ways, as quickly and as carefree as possible. Most of the time, it works; and yet, even when it doesn’t, the Shins have never sounded more exuberant. “Sleeping Lessons” kicks off the set with a mercurial aquarium keyboard line, that goes for about two-minutes until the band explodes into a chugging (dare I say “Arcade Fire-esque”) power-chord shake-down; the next song, “Australia,” kicks off with Animal Collective yelps only to transform into a full-on Marr and Morrissey minor-chord mope-pop rocker. The first single, “Phantom Limb,” is pure Jesus and Mary Chain from the very first fuzzy keyboard note. And sure, “Girl Sailor” and the trademark drum-less bucolic closer “A Comet Appears” are pure Shins-territory. Pastiche after pastiche, references abound only to be discarded, songs careen off in every direction possible, and somehow this experimentation managed to not compromise the accessibility of Mercer’s jams in the least. Three for three. [HG]

Keep in mind I have not adjusted this record review in any way, except for the quotes and apostrophes. It should go without saying that it's one of many record review for the Shins' new record Wincing the Night Away. I would to call out the gentleman who wrote this awful, awful review, but I'm feeling a nicer today. Plus, I think the guy's probably Jewish and we heebs gotta stick together.

I will say that it's probably the least clever and most disagreed-with review I've read in a long time. And his grammar, punctuation and syntax suck, too. It's like he uses hypens for sport. I really hope this is an unedited copy. Other than that, it seems like a respectable review. But since when can "economy" be described as "jaw-dropping"? Hypenating "Shins territory" is just retarded. I suppose my main gripe with this review is its improper use of hyphens. Proper hyphen usage is a gorgeous, almost avant-garde poetic thing (SEE HOW I USED THAT HYPEN CORRECTLY?!), but to see someone use it incorrectly is like a gung-ho Iraq war supporter justifying the war or a drunk man trying to cross an icy street.

Needless to say, I don't care for the Shins. But the second half of Wincing isn't bad at all.

It's just... so... sad. But you're actually kind of rooting for him because he's trying so hard. At the same time, the sick part of you wants to see him fall because he's such a misdirected moron.

The New York Times' Kelefa Sanneh is so DEDICATED RIGHT NOW!

Check out this excellent round up of facts and context surrounding DJ Drama's arrest and what it means for major labels and the mixtape game up, down and across all facets of the industry.

Upon reflection, the Aphilliates are lucky they didn't have contraband on them.

And this after Flava got shut down during FAMU Homecoming. Check the official DOJ report.

Drama got drama

So I'm not one to usually question police tactics, but hey, APD...

Be easy.

Drama doesn't have gats. He's a mixtape DJ. A full-on raid to show off your department's force isn't entirely necessary.

Let's catch the rapists first, okay?

I need a lover with SOUL power!

Some 2007 releases you need to "check out" (HINT HINT) that I've come across while here:


Black Moth Super Rainbow - Dandelion Gum


Maserati - Inventions for the New Season (their first full length in over five years!!)


Eluvium - Copia


Hella - There's No 666 in Outer Space


Low - Drums and Guns


Dalek - Abandoned Language


Of Montreal - Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?


Field Music - Tones of Town


Do Make Say Think - You, You're A History in Rust


Amon Tobin - Foley Room


Explosions in the Sky - All of a Sudden I Miss Everyone


Trans Am - Sex Change

Catch ASC on Thursday!

Make sure you catch the show when its released weekly, on Thursdays.

You might hear a shout out for... moi.

Did that sound concieted?


I'll try and report from tonight's Emily Haines show tomorrow.

So it begins

First day at All Songs.

I didn't know what to expect, so I can't say I'm surprised or disappointed. Just somewhat challenged yet content. Its okay. I've got lots of unknown, even faceless CDs of singer-songwriter CDs to rifle through. Yet all I can do is listen to the new Arcade Fire, Explosions in the Sky or Modest Mouse singles.

My boss seems to like me just fine. We ate greasy pizza and talked. My face feels so oily.

In the coming future, you're going to see more actual music essays and criticism coming from this blog, but I'm physically/metnally settling in at the moment. I have orientation material and HARP magazine to read. Plus, God knows how many obscure and indie CDs.

Holla back.