Beaches have chosen to exist as a small, heavily populated planet in a universe of infinite possibilities and sounds. And that is never a cause for celebration.
Ten misconceptions about Collapse Board and Savages. Number one: that we care if they’re manufactured.
Man, that band name’s a fucking misnomer, isn’t it?
It starts out in the world of Sonic Youth — a tinny, anemic charming version of SY — before shooting off in the direction of Sun City Girls, Minutemen rants with Pere Ubu paranoia
I don’t like praising records for their focus and consistency — makes me feel like I’m in a corporate boardroom or something.
Chrissy Amphlett, lead singer of Divinyls, died this past Sunday. She was 53. Most musicians are lucky if they ever release a record, much less make the charts, never mind change the world. Ms. Amphlett, who left home at 14, accomplished all three.
The 49 Americans were an experiment in the pursuit of happiness.
It costs the same as 3 issues of Mojo, or 6 weeks’ worth of NME’s, and it’s a dozen times more likely to change your life.
The future of adventurous US music can be found in the hinterlands. Don’t go to them; they’ll come to you.
Imagine a German Dirty Three. Of if you’re feeling cynical, imagine a 10-year-old boy pretending to be a monster, stomping all over Tokyo in a nuclear-induced haze.
Here’s an official video. It’s better than Veronica Falls, I guess.
Now this is some real grisly shit right here. Forget your Swans, forget your Big Black, forget your Danish bands of dubious intelligence
I’m a sucker for thinned-out drum machine percussion and keyboard lines that sound like old classroom films from my youth
The idea was to not to try to, you know, glorify violence or anything, we just thought it was a fun idea
The only thing worse than a band deliberately putting violent/racist/fascist imagery out there is a writer like myself taking exception to it.
The way The Smiths once covered their sleeves in 60s references, the way Wu-Tang Clan embraced the language and iconography of Shaolin, the way Oasis loved The Beatles, that’s the relationship Iceage has with xenophobia and white supremacy — it may not be the window, but it’s damn sure the drapes.
It’s too demented and gleeful to be offensive. It’s barely of this planet and doesn’t have a mean bone in its body.
best listened to three minutes at a time. Like a bag of decades-old Smarties, an entire 36 minutes of consumption is guaranteed to sicken.
Maybe this has only been a clearing of the throat, a shaking off of the cobwebs, a necessary step into the harsh daylight of everyday existence. Maybe there is more to come.
The new Foxygen album is best appreciated if you empty yourself of all personality and worries before listening to it. This is not a record to be approached if you have a loved one in the hospital or are faced with encroaching debt or ephemeral darkness.
Everyone’s dying, some of us less slowly than others. As for me I’m dying for this record. In my current state I could listen to it over and over for at least an entire day. It’s all I need. It speaks to the broken unsatisfied mind-imploding parts of me.
I kneel and genuflect before the first two Pere Ubu albums and the handful of singles surrounding it, but I think this may be the greatest Pere Ubu album ever made.
Ohio is the greatest album I’ve heard in the past hour, and in the age of ubiquitous internet I can’t think of any higher praise.
Fade pulses and hums with the rhythms of nature, sounds swell and grow, advance and recede, throughout each song. YLT may be the most nurturing band I’ve ever heard. They love and caress every note in a way that makes this album in particular sound incredibly human. It makes me want to be a better person. It makes me want to love more deeply.