after tom's diner, lil' wayne went looking for afrika What you know bout toile? Check the details! Alright, I've been doing too much shopping on the internet. I just bought a bunch of stuff, and I'll try to quit talking about it. In mercifully unrelated news, I just applied for a credit card. Enough babbling, more blogging:

Serious Heatrocks Featuring Famous Samples And A Whole Bunch of Rappers

Timbaland, Bubba Sparxxx, Baby & Lil' Wayne- Tell Me Bout the South

Paul Wall, Lil' Wayne, Rick Ross, Pitbull & Fat Joe- Holla At Me Baby

And, a sneaker kid joke:
Nike Pinstripe Blazer vs. Nike Pinstripe Blazer

Post on Lady Sov coming soon. Oh, and remind me to whip something up about the Quantic Soul Orchestra, would ya?  ¶ 10:59 PM 0 comments

  Thug Age Mutant Ninja Trappers This video may explain my current taste in rap music. Juelz, Jeezy, Weezy and T.I. are the Thug Age Mutant Ninja Trappers, with Jay-Z as the crucial Splinter figure. Bandana fashions for days, big personal weapons, and sometimes just dudes enjoying a pizza. Haters and feds come together like the Foot Clan. April O'Neil is now a video girl. Pusha T and Malice of the Clipse throw down as Rocksteady and Bebop. Society doesn't understand our outsider warrior heroes, so they keep it underground (don't hit them on that Nextel Chirp.) Point of extended analogy between childhood cartoon heroes and current crack-rap favorites: good storytelling excites the imagination and provides a fictionalized context to understand our own struggles. Aren't Ninja turtles more fanciful than admirable drug dealers? If I can identify with Leo, why not T.I.?

Raphael- Make It Work For You (Feat. Michaelgelo and Donatello)

I've decided that I'm going to do a blog redesign. That column over to the right is too big. I'm not a big fan of the blogger toolbar up top. To tell the truth, the drawing up top is sorta embarassing now. Oh yeah, and links, those oughta get updated too. Shit, maybe i'll even spring for some webspace and dead this whole ysi farce.  ¶ 12:51 AM 2 comments

  tell me what it look like
Alex Epton aka XXXchange. Dude was the drummer for Zero Zero's AM Gold, a spacey indie rock project that has the retrospective distinction of being one of the first DFA productions (you're right up there with BS 2000!) After the band sorta went straight nowhere, Alex hung out in NYC, sitting in on the early lcd soundsystem singles sessions and getting Tim Sweeney to play some of his baltimore club songs on Beats in Space. Then Mr. Epton moved back to Phila, met up with childhood friend Naeem Juawn. The two staged casio cage matches between bmore club and backpack hip hop. In those battles betwenXXXchange's booty beats versus Super Disco MC Spankro' s tongue-drum, Spank Rock was born. They passed some songs along to an employee at the local record spot who DJ'd as Low Budget. As in half-of-Hollertronix Low Budget. Other half (weirder half?) Diplo heard the songs, passed them on to his British alternarap record label. Suddenly, Alex and Naeem had a record deal, and then they toured with super-hip-star M.I.A. So Alex Epton went from indie-drummer to dancepunk intern to rap style war producer. If he ever met Pitchforkmedia dot com in real life, I think he would tell em to touch it bring it pay it watch it turn it leave it stop format it. Watch for 2007, when he'll have free-folk on lockdown (i kid, kids).

Zero Zero- AM Gold

Spank Rock- Rick Rubin  ¶ 1:06 PM 0 comments

  everybody young and old
I don't really know that much about doo-wop, besides the fact that its mostly upbeat rhythm and blues with lots of vocal harmonies, and was popular from the fifties right up to the British invasion. I've tried to figure out who exactly the Flares were, but I couldn't follow all the line-up changes. So much for google journalism. Its seems that Willie Davis and Aaron Collins were the core songwriters of the group, and those two used to be in the Jacks (and aparently aka the Cadets), pictured at left.

The Flares- Foot Stomping, Pt. 1

This hit number 25 on the charts back in 1961. KW Griff does a great baltimore club version of this, and I'm hunting for a copy. Thanks to Paul Devro for sharing this one.  ¶ 5:35 PM 0 comments

  art damaged goods, don't send them back.
Atomic kids can't walk on glass. Never forget, sincerity is a trap one way or another. The boy from school fell on hard times. Hunter savage submited reworks three weeks late. Remember to watch out for the theremin minstrels. Mouth shut, eyes on disguise. Hearfelt dreams in the flesh, the tweezed and plastered wander the night search for the warmth behind the charm. I'm hanging on the telephone, and all you gotta do is say yes.

Blondie- Atomic  ¶ 7:45 PM 0 comments

  my time is all used up "two nights ago, i dreamt that my left eye lost fluid pressure, and looking out from it was like staring out the porthole of a sinking ship. then i started a successful latino lifestyle magazine. suffice to say, things are getting weird in the old dusty thought-maker."

Valentine's Day Dedication ( I Earnestly Implore You To Both Read And Listen):
Spencer Davis Group- I'm A Man

This is a music blog, and i'm still with it, and this is proof, and it's not four months late:
The Knife- Heartbeats
  ¶ 10:12 PM 0 comments

  phi beta cappadonna
The RZA- Tragedy

Witness the candy break down, son. Here comes that rain again.

Edit: That post was sorta pathetic. So let's start over.

Admittedly, I have a tendency to begin sentences with lenghty subordinate clauses. After creating a verbal backdrop with an introductory clause, I usually follow with a short declarative statement. For example: "Responsible for founding the Wu-Tang clan and defining its complicated chess square kung-fu kicksology-numerology-mythology, the RZA also stands as one of hip-hop's most influential beat-makers." While it can work if used sparingly, this techinque gets old quick.

The same is not true of the RZA's music. He's mostly sticks to the scratchy soul funk sample, but he switches styles just enough so it works EVERY time. RZA: pathos for days, rhymes for weeks. This blog: pathetic at times, but still it speaks!  ¶ 9:05 PM 0 comments

  self- appointed dean of american rock witicism
I been out a while. So the blog has not been ups-dated. Which is unfortunate.

Here. No here, take it. Look it's just some soulful rock that tinges on that brit mod west indian political thing. Serious, don't thank me. It's nothing. It's damn near close to the least thing I could do.

The Equals- Black Skinned Blue-Eyed Boys

ps- It's better than posting that Casiotone for the Painfully Alone Song I was thinking about. I mean, I'm not fronting on Casiotone, it's just that sad posts are no fun. Baby, you know we ain't fighting.  ¶ 2:44 PM 0 comments

  been so long (danger!)


I know what you're thinking. Well, I mean not really, just in that "literary devices make blogs more interesting" sort of way. Things have been a little slow around here. I've spent most of my internet time putting up a myspace page and asking my favorite bands to be my new imaginary digital friends. It feels like sorta feels writing letters to Santa.

I still have a couple of posts on glittery French retouch'd electro lying around here somewhere. I started thinking through it a while back, but I'd like to examine the rapping crack dealer as a the hero of modern life and focus on the contrast between gleeful peddlers like the Clipse and blue collar dealers like T.I. Other potential post topics include Avenue D and promiscious beats, Bun B's erratic intellectualism, Baelric and Cosmic Disco, as well as Controller.Controller. We shall see

Original multimedia content is also on the horizon. My mixer has been in the shop, which has meant no mixing to post. I can't post original remixes and elementary tech jamz until 1) Logic Express arrives in the mail, 2) I learn how to use it and 3) I have some good ideas. Maybe I'll work on that third part.


Stardust-Music Sounds Better With You

Alex Braxe and Thomas Bangalter of Daft Punk team up and cast off another perfect song (I mean, what else could they do?) The Year was 1998, the Y2k bug just a glint in Janet Reno's eye, and these six minutes and forty six seconds felt like an endless Ibiza summer. At least I think so. I was in middle school listening to Beck.  ¶ 12:10 AM 1 comments