I just thought I'd bring this blog back to life momentarily by suggesting that everyone go out and see John Sayles' new movie , Honeydripper , about the evolution of blues into R&B and rock'n'roll -- not just because it's a fantastic movie but because it's a historic one for anyone who cares about the forgotten roots of American popular music. I saw it yesterday afternoon in New York, where it's currently in limited distribution (along with Los Angeles), but it's due for a rolling national release in January and February. (Tuwa, it's opening at the Hippodrome in [...]
Talking Heads -- Born Under Punches (live in Rome, 1980) On the cusp of Remain in Light , before Speaking in Tongues , Talking Heads explored moody funk: dark, brooding, and danceable, as evidenced by this Metafilter post about a concert in Rome in 1980 with Adrian Belew (formerly of Frank Zappa and David Bowie, soon to be of King Crimson). Belew's work here hints at an influence on Byrne's guitar work which showed up as early as Stop Making Sense but, more importantly, the songs stand on [...]
Elizabeth Mitchell -- Who's My Pretty Baby At ten years old, there was nowhere Elizabeth Mitchell would go that couldn't be gone there by cartwheels or somersaults. At ten and a half she learned how to walk on her hands and was sure that her feet would never touch the ground again. She insisted that her parents lower the counters throughout the house. They refused, so she insisted they buy her stilts. Her parents did not want to take down the chandeliers or to clean footprints from the ceiling, and it seemed [...]
9Seven for IV 121 -- Before Finish Receiving a transmission, captain. --Onscreen. [Onscreen: a trio of Japanese travelers in a steampunk spaceship, stars and planets floating distant in the viewport behind them, contextless and serene. They begin to speak. Their words, constellations of sounds, also float: unmoored, drifting, supremely calming. They are not cosmonauts but monogatarinauts.] --Ensign, decode. The computer can not understand it fully, captain. ... CRM 114 ... C57D ... 1701 ... Baratu. [The transmission ends. Captain raises his eyebrows.] I will attempt to reestablish contact.... No response, sir. [...]
Jimmie Davis -- She's a Hum Dum Dinger From Dingersville.mp3 What kind of slide does Jimmie Davis use? It's not a knife on electric guitar, aggressive, thick, chunky, distorted . It's not a knife on electric guitar, gruff and impetuous, with a sense of timing all its own, dropping flats and sharps in where it pleases . It's not a dobro, not a lap steel, not a sonic papaya smoothie . It's not medicine bottle on nylon; it doesn't sound like Valium on dreamscape lullaby. No, it's [...]
Jed and Lucia -- Off the Ground Jed played guitar in a band. On the weekends when they weren't booked and weren't practicing, he would drive his car out of the city to climb mountains. His favorite was Mt. San Isidro, a moderately tall and moderately difficult mountain which he would nevertheless climb solo. In the early afternoon one day as he reached the summit, he found there a building that had never been there before. It was a modest structure, made of wood and stone, and inside he found it attended [...]
Luther Kent & Trick Bag - Just a Little Bit Talo first introduced me to Luther Kent, who I wrote about in one of my earliest posts. In fact, Talo introduced me to New Orleans music. And New Orleans food. And New Orleans culture. And New Orleans itself. Talo grew up in Slidell, just across Lake Pontchartrain from the Big Easy. He was a friend of Lisa's from college, and later our tenant (until we took over our entire brownstone for our growing family and had to evict him -- but found him a [...]
Peter Tosh -- Stop That Train Peter Tosh was murdered in his home by a robber who did not rob him. It's a curious thing, perhaps as curious as a dying hallucination of a lifetime unspooling until the most significant choices are again unchosen and alternate paths stretch out ahead. On one of those paths Tosh did not joing the Wailers, did not leave them, did not become a reggae icon in his own right. Instead he flew with just his acoustic guitar and the clothes on his back to the [...]
Rosswords, your email quit working. Everyone else: music post later today.
Komeda -- Binario Le Tigre -- After Dark Is it a hyperacute critical sense or a complete lack of critical sense that leads to judging everything harshly, to watching a brilliant film or listening to a complex and demanding album and thinking it mildly interesting? What changes to cause a reassessment, to allow a three-year-old album or an eight-year-old album to register as what it is rather than what it was seen as needing to be? And why is that, in all the characteristics a work [...]
Randy Hobbs -- Slowly But Surely Roosevelt Sykes -- Yes Lawd Funkadelic -- Maggot Brain [alt mix] He was alone in the lobby of his hotel in Isla Mujeres, watching Hitchcock's La Ventana Indiscreta and misreading Jeffries' misgivings for disregard, zoning out looking through Lisa's face to the blue and red and green rectangles. Jorge banged on the glass by the door, smiling sleepily, holding his left crutch, his right crutch leaned against his side. [...]
Antibalas Afrobeat Orchestra -- Sí, Se Puede Antibalas Afrobeat Orchestra are a Brooklyn-based musical collective expanding the sound laid out by Fela Kuti, who originated the term Afrobeat and set its political tenor in the 1970s. Si alguien te dice que no se puede hacer algo, só dílo <<sí, se puede. Mientras vivo, mientras respiro, lo haré, lo hago, hacerlo yo sigo.>> I've seen this one listed as "si se puede." It is not. "Sí, se puede" means "Yes, it's possible" whereas "si se puede" means "if it's possible." [...]
Vanya pretends she is called Julia, pretends she wasn't born where she was, pretends she doesn't look how she does, pretends she's graceful and witty, glamorous and poised. Yet she is not ugly, not dull-witted, not socially incompetent; what she is is self-conscious. She spends her spare time composing a soundtrack to a film that's never been made, a film she imagines as a musical Amelie , though her deepest convictions will lead it astray. Opening credits : a woman in her mid-30s in an overcoat, dress, and heavy [...]
I've been following the news about internet radio with some alarm: in essence, the rates are being increased quite a lot, so sites like Pandora and soma.fm are in danger. I'm quite fond of Pandora, which lets you to enter an artist or song in a search and have it generate a playlist of other songs you might like based on how you rate the results; in fact I've been using it for research recently. If you like internet radio, or if you've ever wondered why internet radio and satellite radio should [...]
The Legendary Pink Dots -- The Made Man's Manifesto I don't know enough about the Legendary Pink Dots to say if it's rare that they sound like pre- Dark Side Pink Floyd, but Allmusic.com does, and does . All I know is I like this track, and it reminds me a bit of Floyd but, to indulge a cliche, "not in a bad way," and I don't know which made man's manifesto it might be referring to; I'm having a hard time relating the lyrics to any fictional or real mobsters I [...]
Morningbell -- The Octopus Walks Across the Coral Morningbell has a new album out. It's a Choose Your Own Adventure album; the adventure I chose was to listen to the tracks in numerical order, and then to give it some time and listen again. I'm happy for the ways it shows the group stretching out, expanding their sound, and while there aren't any tracks on it I dislike, I think the two being promoted are not the two I would have picked: my money is on "Utopian Fantasy at the Center of the Earth" [...]
Sex Mob -- For What It's Worth This is on a totally different track, but Tuwa's last post reminded me of a great version of For What It's Worth by Sex Mob , which was Steven Bernstein's last band before Millenial Territory Orchestra . Bernstein takes jazz in all sorts of interesting directions, trying to make it a little less cerebral and more accessible. He describes it this way: Jazz used to be popular music. People would go out to clubs, listen to the music, go home, and get laid. [...]

College was a culture shock: going from true poverty to an artificial poverty with secure housing and a clear end, from a small town where I was considered brilliant to a college town where I was surrounded by people who were, from oversight that was vindictive and capricious to authority that were indifferent, all of it coupled with an exhilerating and terrifying freedom. My first roommates were from Boca Raton, the three of us sharing the second-cheapest room on campus, built for four, their friends coming over to drink or smoke, one of them once memorably complaining about being [...]
This post is part of the White Elephant film Blogathon , in which volunteers throw a movie suggestion into the hat for someone else to review. The only restriction was that the movie be widely available; and the implication was that most of them would be bad because bloggers could already use their site to review good movies. I ignored that implication, as I didn't have the heart to recommend a film I thought was truly bad; instead I recommended one I thought was quite good but somewhat obscure. And in return I got [...]