end of year and all that pop n jazz

Here’s the requisite Broken Social Scene pick, which sounds resentful but is not; more evidence of their having done something. “All My Friends” who did ecstasy out in the meadow when the corn had just planted . . . staring into the bonfire and slamming miller lites until the heart stopped its worrisome beating . . . and sliding through every class with just enough effort to hear the hints the teacher gave that allowed for exemplary grades (b/c you’re not dumb) . . . but we didn’t have facepaint or suits. We had ford accords and gravel roads. I would argue that is not a distinction without a difference, but nor is it a completely delusional identification – each to their own obsolescence (and sometimes obsolescence is a good thing – feel me?).






Well, yes, Feist, you are precious, and I cannot deny that. So many primary colors. And the offspring they make. I thoroughly, unequivocally enjoy this. Which is ‘cause I’m old. See 1 2 3 4. And (I’m looking again) is it all one shot – so to speak, given the likelihood of possible alterations? Yes I do believe so.


And here is health “heaven” – who knew so much drama resides in airborne ski possibilities?





One thing punk rock does is make your relatives believe the end is near. On that ground, MIA is punk rock – and if after watching the vid, you don’t want to go to India, you (I assert) are immune to the temptation adventure poses (assuming you, like me, have never entered Southeast Asia):




whoa prinzhorn dance school – I am such a sucker for bass lines – and then you go English on me, looking all proper and like – plus images of labor (sawing, screwing, and burning???). “Beeswax, beeswax” – that could be nothing or else a secret invocation that everything is about to be over. nice maul, nice file, nice hammer, nice mini-ax. E.P. Thompson is thrumming in his dear Britsh grave – and let’s be honest: british accents make it all better. Here you go.



economy of movement. Work it out.




and to the contrary, music composed by an Austin TX band can have resonance across cultures, vis a vis a yellow malleable toy-like avatar of the song it seeks to commemorate.




OH – WUH, OOH!