Song of the day – 177: Agent Ribbons
So this dude emails me from out of nowhere, to tell me that he’s cancelled his subscription to Bust, a magazine he loves (and rightly so because it rules), because they haven’t yet featured Agent Ribbons, a female trio from Texas that is (in my correspondent’s own impassioned words) “so overwhelmingly Bust-worthy”. So the dude’s cancelled his subscription in some sort of protest – futile passion like that I can always relate to! And then he sends me, like, nine links to various videos featuring the ladies crooning their way through a variety of sultry and hard-rockin’ songs (a little bit of 50s doo wop style, a whole lot of passion, a truck-load of genius harmonies, a smattering of Gothic ennui and a voice to call up the ghost of Johnny Ray with), during some of which the filmmaker even remembered to take the lens cap off first…
Damn me, but they’re great! Some of these videos are like Kitty Daisy And Lewis stepping out with The Breeders at the latest production of Cabaret dressed in vintage apparel and smoking cigarettes like they’re in a Marlene Dietrich movie revival, or some other equally asinine music critic comparison. Damn, I love the way the Internet keeps throwing up bands like this into my path! Fucking Bust man. If that fucking Everett True doesn’t feature them in his next “the best girl bands you’ve never heard of” column in that magazine then I’m cancelling my fucking subscription as well, and I’ll quit reading this blog *which I’ve just discovered* as well! Well, not his very next column, cos that one is already written, but the one after that – for sure.
Um. Check out their videos first, and then go to the MySpace. Or do it the other way round. Your choice.
The following song is incredible.
This is the one that totally tipped the scales for me. What a fucking voice!
Not as good as the previous three but what are YOU looking so smug about? You done anything half as glorious recently?
The best damn performance I’ve seen this year. See! The White Stripes can be a force for good! (Can I mention The Detroit Cobras somewhere here as well, please? Thank you.) I’m kind of glad they don’t live in Brisbane, actually: I would so be stalking their every last show.
Damn! Damn! DAMN!
I am so jealous.
…with a cold, even! …
A fine interview segment – with music and cycling.
Spooky! This appears to be the newest song of the bunch, and… well, the strangest, as well.
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by Everett True
My name is Everett True. I am a music critic. This is what I do. I criticise music. The clue is in my job description – music critic. I do not consider myself a journalist, as I do not research or report hard news. I do not consider myself a commentator as I believe that everyone should be a participant. I criticise people and in return I am not surprised if other people criticise me. It is part of the whole deal of being in the public arena. I am Everett True. Believe in me and I have power like a God. Quit believing in me and I no longer exist.
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