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Sat, Jan. 7th, 2006, 12:39 pm
It Was Samosa Be Jalfrezi

New Streets album in April: The Hardest Way to Make an Easy Living, apparently. Will Skinner experience Junior Jump-the-Shark (3rd album vers. of the Sophomore Slump)? Were Streets albums exciting just because they were exciting? Is the game still fun? Will he make a great album?

Soak up the preparatory vibes over at ILM:

Thu, Jan. 5th, 2006, 12:57 pm
Durutti Column - The Missing Boy

I hate that my last few entries in here have been so Mancunian across the board (ok, I actually don't mind it at all), but I've been listening to this elegy/eulogy and a question/discussion-point sprang to mind: Is the (thrice repeated) line "same old order" a swipe at Hook, Sumner & Co.? Interesting, considering the song was written for Ian Curtis, right? My hope would be that there was a secret beef.

Download it here:

Tue, Dec. 6th, 2005, 11:33 am
appallingly predictable new order/john peel post

Perhaps I shouldn't be shocked to the degree that I am by these quotes I just unearthed via google, but I AM surprised (and thrilled) by the sheer *amount* of credit this half of New Order heaps on Mr. Peel:

"He was the only support we had in the beginning - they were very cold and lonely days, and I've got an awful feeling that there'll be a lot of very lonely, cold, days without him." - Peter Hook

"It's a really sad moment - for music, for radio, for groups in general. I'd hate to be in a new group starting out without John Peel." - Peter Hook

"If it wasn't for John Peel, there would be no Joy Division and no New Order." - Bernard Sumner

The fact that Mr. Sumner thinks so means something, but I wonder how true this bold statement really is? Do you agree/disagree with him?

Tue, Oct. 11th, 2005, 02:47 pm
Now Back To Your Regularly Scheduled Music Blog

Idea for future blog (soon), and a request for comments:

I've been thinking a bit lately about being a "music person" (not a musician, as that's an entirely different thing with entirely different signifiers and effects), what that means, how it (positively and negatively) affects our lives/has affected mine (if at all), and what the signifiers of this are.

By music person (and I could stand to think of a better term for this, naturally, but "fan" just sounds flippant and wrong, and nothing else has seemed even remotely appropriate -- suggestions welcome) I mean someone for whom music is the main thing in their life -- they talk about it, read/write about it, spend time in record shops looking for it, wear clothing related to it, maybe even choose friends by it.

What signifiers can you think of? Have you ever been like this? Are you now? Do you remember being in school and noticing someone in a Ramones/Smiths/insert-band-you-like-here t-shirt and thinking "oh good, there's at least one other one"? Do you feel it's an immature way to be/think?

How important is what music we listen to important to who we are? Are we what we like?

I think that's the main question.

Tue, Sep. 20th, 2005, 10:02 am
Who knew? I did.

Nicky Wire
You're Nicky - Everyone's favourite 6 foot Ribena
guzzling hoovering freak. And you may do some
writting occasionally.
Pros - Lovely guy, beautiful in the right
Cons - Please don't try and name any babies!!!
Otherwise, you're perfect!

Which Manic Streety Preaching thing are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Thu, May. 12th, 2005, 01:22 pm
Son of Things I'm Listening to Lately

Hi. My name is Emily, and there are some things I've been listening to lately that have made me happy, and I'd like to recommend them to you thusly:

Swell Maps - A Trip to Marineville

This is a reissue on Secretly Canadian, all newly slick-sounding and generally prettified. If you've never heard the Maps you seriously need to get on board like ASAP, especially if you like to meaninglessly quibble about Sonic Youth or Pavement sweater-knap trivia -- both bands owe major big-ups to SM. Bonuses: 1. Some Maps went on to be Jacobites, Crime and the City Solution(s), and (clears throat) TELEVISION PERSONALITIES. 2. If you still require a clear-cut reason to strap into the coaster, they have a song called "Midget Submarine." I mean, come the fuck on.

Ride - Smile

This may just be some weird synaesthesia thing, but there is this certain category (in my head) of bands that sound greyish-violet* and Ride is their king. Ride, being astute and aware, sussed this out and colored their cd, yes, that's correct: greyish-violet. [EDIT: Ok, someone just read this and pointed out that the above is actually not a recommendation in any sense of the word. So here: If you like shoegaze, lullabies, whisper-soft but competent male vocals, guitars going nuts for long periods of time in what is still a "song"-song context, or the color violet, this album is a nice place to work out those feelings. Don't expect your mind to be blown or anything, it's just a nice record.]

*My Bloody Valentine is one, the Sundays are another, and Delays would be yet another if they weren't unequivocally bright orange (and again, even their cd art knows it.)

Fairport Convention - Liege and Leif

Fairport Convention, Readers' Digest version: one of those late 60's-early 70's bands of communal-type hippes that were all married to/sex0ring each other and probably all ate out of one giant pot of steaming, curried lentils with the same wooden ladel, progenitors of plugged-in British trad-folk, wicked awesome guitars that will have you saying omgwtf, and a voice with the clarity of a first grade textbook. Really this is just a very good record, but I'm not smart enough/a good enough writer to express the quality of it in words, so just trust and listen to it.

Wed, Apr. 27th, 2005, 09:16 pm
Kanye and Emily, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G images of themselves, and then writing about it.

I am pleased to announce that in the most recent issue of Ebony magazine, rapper/producer Kanye West has, in a turn of events that can only be described as a pants-shitting shocker, proposed marriage to yours truly. I know, I know, wtf, right? To wit: "[Marriage is] the key to life. I'll definitely be married when I find somebody." The list of what West wants is pretty long and immediate(...)She must be intelligent, attractive, and understanding with "a really dope sense of style that's fresh to death. She has to be able to dress, that's just a common interest. She has to like movies and like all sorts of music -- anywhere from alternative to the Diplomats."


Ok, so maybe he's not talking about me. I mean, he definitely is talking about me, he just might not realize that as yet. Mr. West, if I may have a moment of your time, let's take this point by point.

Point one: Intelligence. I don't really think this is something quantifiable, and defending one's own intelligence invariably makes one look retarded. Let's just say I'm of average intelligence, but I can definitely keep up with you. I'm not trying to sound condescending here, it's just a fact of life.

Rolling directly on to point two: Attractiveness. Ok, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so whatever. I know I'm no oil painting, but I do know that you like large asses, so I've got this one in spades.

Re: "Understanding" -- I know where you are coming from, Kanye. I know all about middle class upbringing, and I know ALL about the Gap. I know a fair amount about Chicago (admittedly this mainly has to do with house music and Big Black). I, too, can appreciate the shimmering beauty of a diamond and simultaneously shed a bitter tear for the Africans that may/may not have died in unsafe mining conditions in order to procure it. I, too, enjoy argyle.

Which brings us here. Ok. My Achilles heel is obviously the knowing-how-to-dress bit. Don't freak -- I know this is important to you, but rest assured that I am willing to work. You'll be happy to know that I've recently taken an interest in pastels. I am aware of your fondness of the color pink -- I own exactly one clothing item in this hue: a t-shirt with a diagram of human female genitalia on the front (that, if not fresh to death, is at least fresh to some type of meningital, debilitating illness.) You may not be aware of this, but you and I own the same jacket (and I know what you're thinking, but no, big-head, I bought it before I knew you). I'm also very skilled at knowing how others should dress, and cracking wise about their utter lack of knowledge in this area.

I like movies (although this is a kind of Junior High criterium in a "YOU like pizza? *I* like pizza!" kind of way). I'm not sure what kind you like, but I generally like ones that are either about mafia people or Bob Dylan. I've been forced to sit through some premo crap over the years, and let's face it: you have a Rocafella chain, and if you wanted to watch Freddy Got Fingered I would massage your feet with peppermint oil for the 1:29 it lasted without a single withering retort.

Re: music. My taste in music is HIDEOUSLY varied! It is an oft-marked characteristic of mine! It is kind of my "thing"! I like grindcore and Britney! I like hip-hop and klezmer! Do me!

But seriously, I could expose you to some decent rock music, as I am all too aware of your predilection towards that John Mayer/Franz Ferdinand/whatever crappy white music crap. Crap. I could play you some post-punk or something, and who knows! I may someday be credited with revitalizing your career at a critical point.\

More evidence that we are star-crossed:
We are both arrogant as hell and obsessed with our images to an unhealthy degree. I can venomously tear you down or suavely compliment you into a frenzy of self-obsession. Whichever way you want to go, my friend.

You like to dress up as a bear and I am totally not going to bust your balls about it. Go on and do that.

And most importantly: *I'm* a college dropout. *You're* a college dropout. I like you for reasons that have nothing to do with the Benz or the backpack (I basically just like the way you look in a white t-shirt, and I'm sure you can appreciate how upfront and self-aware I am regarding that shallowness, because you have basically built a career [or at least a hit single] on that very idea!). And how often do you get that?

Call me.

Wed, Apr. 27th, 2005, 07:31 pm
LiveJournal meme thing, but music-related and fairly OTM.

Your Taste in Music:

90's Hip Hop: Highest Influence
Progressive Rock: Highest Influence
Classic Rock: High Influence
Gangsta Rap: High Influence
Old School Hip Hop: High Influence
Dance: Medium Influence
Hip Hop: Medium Influence
Punk: Medium Influence
R&B: Medium Influence
Ska: Medium Influence
80's Alternative: Low Influence
80's Pop: Low Influence
80's R&B: Low Influence
90's Alternative: Low Influence
90's R&B: Low Influence
Adult Alternative: Low Influence
Hair Bands: Low Influence

Mon, Jan. 31st, 2005, 10:19 pm
"Beatles Laser Anthology? I was unaware they had released ANY lasers."

Tonight, in preparation of doing my taxes and in need of some aural wallpaper, I decided to put on a record I've shunned for a while. It happened to be At The Club by erstwhile Sunderland pop band Kenickie, an album I warmed to around 1999 whilst firmly ensconced in a Velvet Goldmine/Pulp/Roxy Music (read: anything screaming Glamorous! And at least vaguely immoral!) phase. It's a shimmering, danceable, bit-too-late for Brit-Pop (man, the ladies really got the shaft on Brit Pop, huh? Elastica did ok, but pound for pound, that debut album trounces anything ever put to tape by Blur, Oasis, or even Pulp for that matter, and sure, they dropped the ball Roses-style, but they still never seemed to get their due in spite of that), forgotten semi-classic, probably remembered most often for a couple of singles and some hypey media swirl that those English are so good/bad at.

I don't think about Kenickie a lot. I used to listen to the album quite a bit, but I just let it wash over me in a glittering stream of yeah yeahs and eyeshadow. It was good getting-ready-to-go-out music, all excitement and carefree extravagance, and in a year when I did a LOT of getting ready (and little actual going out, if I recall correctly), it fit perfectly. Listening to it in a 2005 context of 1040As and Adjusted Gross Income was a different scene, and I even got a little wistful for my admittedly crappier former lifestyle of poorhouses and bad, bad nights. In the present, in the still comfort of my centrally-heated home, however, I now see what makes so much sense about Kenickie.
Every once in a while there is a band of females (or mostly females) that rocks it in a really female way without being caricatured about their gender (I mean being really consciously "girly" which always smacks of insincerity -- though boys can and do play at that too and it's just called "twee" or something) and without even really acknowledging it in any way, making the fact that they are women simultaneously hugely important to who they are and not really a big deal. Kenickie is that. Their songs aren't really about being female as much as they are just about being a club kid, going out and looking good, being drunk, but a lot of essentially feminine elements are always present in the form of, well, what they're wearing and who they're doing.

They were cheeky and good at press, well-dressed and attractive, and of course the songs are almost all very good, with Lauren Laverne and Marie DeSantiago trading off vocals, neither one Isobel Campbell weak or Courtney Love snarly or take-your-pick whiney or screamy or any hackneyed thing that commericially successful "women in rock" so often exemplify, but just people, just singing like people that happen to be girls. Lyrics, while sometimes obviously not a strong suit (or strong concern, maybe) often verge into classic territory and the guitars, and the drums (Ronettes "Be My Baby" drum intro so played out at this point, but Kenickie are SO allowed this), are all just...right. A cocktail of street light, skin tight, nightlife.
And the goddamned glamor of it! You absolutely can't do taxes to it.

Search: "Millionaire Sweeper", "Private Bukowski", "Come Out 2 Nite"
Destroy: If anythinhg, "Punka"

Thu, Nov. 18th, 2004, 10:07 am
offline pk

I've had this song in my head for about a week, but I didn't know anything about it except that I thought I had heard it on Nick's old radio show (now I'm not so sure, though.) I didn't remember any words, and the only vocal parts I could remember were just sort of "AHh. AH! AHh." Can't really search for something like that on the webernet, and it can be somewhat embarrassing to sing it to the record store clerk (not that that has stopped me before).

So I figured it might be this band the Shins cause the vocals sounded like that and Nick likes them, so I bought that cd and was sitting here listening to it in my office, and none of the songs were the one. I started thinking about how that song was just going to be lost to me forever because I had no way to describe it to anyone, just a sound in my head like AH AH AH. I listen to all the Shins songs again and then gave up thinking about it.

Then I changed the cd to this new Pinback one I bought.

And the first song was it.


Maybe I'm having a good day? Little things like this haven't seemed to have been happening for a while, so it mattered. I had this journal thing open right before this happened and had every intention of writing "pathetic couple weeks" and leaving it at that, but whatever, being down is for lamers and this song is great.

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