Mention it in general to the moon

KW Jesus TV Roof Appeal / Baby Bird

Hi! Yer listening to the "Nervous Ass-and-Cheek Cola Show." The name's Dave Christ, the brother that Jesus forgot. I want you to put your hands in your pants, feel around, smile a little bit, bring out something shiny, put it in an envelope, and send it to me at KW Jesus TV, and we'll get this roof back on my house... Damn!... Shit!... I'm the church!


You're Gorgeous / Baby Bird

Y-O-U-R-E-G-O-R-G-E-O-U-S


Rumor is there's a new album on the way from Baby Bird-meister Stephen Jones. Not sure if that's a good thing. Between 1995 and 2002, Baby Bird released no less than 7 albums, 3 compilations, and 9 singles. Sorting through this excess of bizarre and mostly lo-fi material is something of a chore. If you're not already on friendly terms with Baby Bird, these two tracks embody the best of his experimental and poppy extremes, respectively. See also "Blow It to the Moon," "45 & Fat," "Aluminium Beach," the Nirvana-homage "Not About a Girl," the U2-parody "Candy Girl," and the 2000 single "F-Word."

Further Advantages

Hello Mate! / advantage Lucy [1998]

Anderson / advantage Lucy [2005]

I posted on this group a few days ago, but there are two more songs that need listening.

In particular, the first four seconds of "Hello Mate!" deserve attention. It's the perfect intro—just a simple baseline that I'm sure has been used before, but it creates so much anticipation, is so confident, so sure that what follows will be fun, that it should be required study material for indie-pop songwriters from now until the end of time.

Fortunately, that's not all this Lucy's got going on. Like most of the band's 10-year catalogue, "Hello Mate!" and the latest single, "Anderson," are sprinkled with horns, breaks, and sound changes in all the right spots. Just when you begin to wonder how a song will keep you interested for another full minute, they switch things up. "Get out of my head!" you scream. But they're already far away by then.


Also: Many thanks to Colin's friend Jon Rubin who wrote about WPNOB last week at his ubiquit.us blog, which thoughtfully analyzes everything from shitty music sites to politics to quantum telecloning. Quantum telecloning, now there's something even William Shatner can get behind.

aL's AMG Bio.

White Album v. Abbey Road, Round 3

This is the third portion of a three-part debate.

Click here for Round 1
Click here for Round 2
Click here for Round 3

Concluding Remarks: White Album

Colin: Some differences are irreconcilable, and unfortunately this seems to be one of them. I mean, I respect that. If that-thir’ Holy Bahble says’un tha earth’s not but a couple a’ hunnerd years old, then who’re all ‘em fancy college-boy scieeyntists to be blasphemin’ th’ good Lord?

A brief response: to claim that the White Album has no cohesion whatsoever is foolish. This is not a mixtape…this is a band recording a number of songs during a definite period of time, and so all the songs naturally bear a great deal in common. No song on the White Album bears any great resemblance to any song on Please Please Me, for example (from which I would certainly choose both “Twist and Shout” and “I Saw Her Standing There” for this hypothetical mix-CD you speak of), yet most of the songs on the White Album share common themes and preoccupations. Note, for example, the wealth of references to guns, animals and violence in the lyrics…again, a list of which I will gladly provide should you wish to face your mistake. They certainly didn’t fixate on this aspect of the music, because they were focused on writing good songs. You seem intent on faulting the Beatles for any type of diversity in their songwriting.

My main point stands: the quality of the songs on an album determines the quality of the album. This seems to me like such a ridiculously obvious tautology that there’s really little left for me to say. Your only remaining argument, then, is that the songs on Abbey Road are better than those on the White Album, which to me seems almost as ridiculous. By your own admission, the White Album contains the greatest song of all time. And I will go pound-for-pound with you, matching any song on Abbey Road with a better one on the White Album. You claim that three bad songs (“Goodnight,” by the way, is not a bad song, I’ll only concede “Honey Pie”) somehow negate twenty-seven good or amazing songs? Well then, throw out every good album ever recorded. Your beloved Blonde On Blonde? Oh, whoops, “Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat.”** Baby out with the bathwater. The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust? Pretty much blew the world’s collective mind…meets your high standards of cohesion…no, wait: “Hang On To Yourself.” If I could just disregard that one song, the album would be amazing…but no. Can’t do it. Ziggy sucks, I guess. And Janine D’agati is so hot…except for that one mole on her lower left…OK. Sorry. That’s below the belt.

The mole, I mean.* Not my conduct.


*AUTH. Doug D’agati is now entitled to one free “Sarah Bennett” comment of the worst nature imaginable. That one deserves it. He should nevertheless bow down before the supremacy of my Beatles argument.

**ED. Wha what??

Concluding Remarks: Abbey Road

Doug: I’d expect an outburst about my younger sister from Adam, and perhaps even Luis after a few shots of rum. But never from such an upstanding gentleman as Colin. Then I realized I couldn’t really blame him. To do so would be like blaming a small rodent—trapped in the corner of a cage and being poked with a sharp stick—for trying to claw out my eyes in one last desperate attempt at survival. I would probably do the same in his position. Thankfully, I’m the one with the sharp stick.

Colin, I am very familiar with the story behind “Her Majesty.” But I could care less if Ashley Simpson put the track at the album’s end. It works. I love it, and you love it. Now, the White Album is a great album, arguably one of the best of all time. But Abbey Road is better. Far better. the White Album, admittedly full of great songs, is also full of not-so-great songs. I count at least 7 (and I’m being quite fair, as I think “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” and “Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill” are atrocious, but nonetheless will concede due to irreconcilable differences). Also, many songs that pass as decent surely cannot pierce the shining armor of Abbey Road. Let’s be serious, do you really believe “Yer Blues,” “Savoy Truffle,” “I Will,” and “Glass Onion” are among the Beatles’ good songs? If so, I’m fine with your admitting that. Now let’s consider Abbey Road. There is at most one BAD song—“Because”—and that’s debatable. Then there is one mediocre song: “Sun King.” Unfortunately, this is not debatable. It’s very mediocre. However, every other song would qualify as great, particularly if Colin considers a whopping 19 songs on the White Album “absolutely phenomenal” and only 3 songs “so-so.”

Much can be said for experimentation. Experimentation is interesting, unique, and by its very nature, new. There is no doubt that without their successes and failures on the White Album, the Beatles could not have produced Abbey Road. The Beatles took what they learned from the White Album (and others) and produced their final masterpiece, Abbey Road, which solidified their position as the best band that ever lived. But, experimentation is not always great. It may be necessary, it may be interesting, but it is not always great. Take, for instance, Crystal Pepsi, a beverage that I’m sure my opponent liked.

Colin, go listen to the White Album while enjoying a refreshing glass of Crystal Pepsi. I’ll be sipping Chardonnay* while listening to Abbey Road.


*AUTH. This writer would like to note that he cannot afford Chardonnay, and will instead content himself to shotgun multiple cans of Milwaukee’s Best. But you get the point.

White Album v. Abbey Road, Round 2

This is the second portion of a three-part debate.

Click here for Round 1
Click here for Round 2
Click here for Round 3

Rebuttal: Abbey Road

Doug: Number9. Number9. Number9. Number9. Number9. Number9. Number9. Number9.

Pretty annoying, isn’t it? No? It’s just “genre-warping,” you say? Well then, please allow me to continue:

Number 9. Number 9. Number 9. Number 9. Number 9. Number 9. Number 9.

Okay, that’s what I thought. Perhaps “genre-warping” isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. While I can stop this nonsense, you’d have to endure another 8 minutes if you were to listen to Colin’s beloved album. And, lest we forget, those excruciating 8 minutes are followed by the Beatles’ second-worst creation (I hesitate to use the word “song”): “Good Night.” Game. Set. Match.

I thought I’d be generous; I thought I’d be compassionate; I thought I’d make this contest interesting and give Colin a fighting chance by excluding Disc 2 from our little debate—if you can even call it that. But no, Colin got greedy—and now I’m going to make him pay for it, in blood. He says Disc 1 of the White Album is better than Abbey Road. Admittedly that’s a tough pill to swallow, but I can do it with a strong chaser. But to have the audacity to state that the entire White Album is superior to Abbey Road, well that’s like taking a shit in a cup of Dubra, swishing it around in your mouth as if it were a fine wine, and then spitting it out just to get the flavor. Or, if you will, like swallowing a slice of “Honey Pie.”

Still, when I first read Colin’s argument, my reaction wasn’t anger; it wasn’t sorrow; it wasn’t even disbelief. It was pity. In fact, I prayed for the poor soul.

The good news is Colin can still be saved, but the path to redemption is long, rocky, and barren. Further, it requires him to embrace every single word I write as if it were a divine proclamation. Except for this one: bogart. I just like the word. It’s a funny word. Okay, now let’s begin.*

Colin—in his futile attempt to reason with me—stated that “Happiness is a Warm Gun” was enough to propel the White Album far above Abbey Road. To be sure, I’m sexually attracted to the brilliant Lenon track. It’s the greatest song ever recorded. Unfortunately, being an abstract entity, it lacks the proper organs necessary for me to express my love. Score one for Colin—he’ll need it. But, if one song is enough to elevate the White Album, surely the two most heinously awful Beatles songs hold equal weight? At best, they negate “Happiness.” At worst, they completely eliminate the album from contention. True, Colin, God may be on your soccer team, but you also have that overweight, pale kid with the hiked-up shorts, thick glasses, and acne-scarred face playing goal. Quod Erat Demonstrandum.

After all, it is Abbey Road—not the White Album—that allowed each Beatle to shine. It includes George’s two best songs, “Something” and “Here Comes the Sun,” as well as Ringo’s hit “Octopus’s Garden,” which is far more interesting than “Don’t Pass Me By.” And let’s not neglect Paul’s very best song, “You Never Give Me Your Money”—or John and Paul’s final medley, which is the greatest stretch of songs ever recorded in pop history. While John’s best may appear on the White Album, so do some of his worst. Perhaps this is my point. The White Album is a great album. But when the fantastic four missed, they missed badly (something apparent on Disc 1, but even more so on Disc 2).

I’d like to conclude by examining Colin’s laughable premise that individual songs are more important than a cohesive album. Colin, let me pose a question to you: if you could vomit all of your favorite Beatles songs onto a CD, would your soggy, multi-colored chunks of songs be better than Abbey Road, or, if you must, the White Album? Of course not. To do so would destroy all continuity, theme, and emotion. That’s why even you—in your obsessive song worship—never listen to a “greatest hits” album. And before we get too carried away, let’s keep in mind that the White Album is far from a collection of greatest hits. If anything, it is a collection of greatest hits AND MISSES.


*ED. “Don’t bogart the can… man.”

Rebuttal: White Album

Colin: Fine…let’s just assume, for the sake of argument, that there is some sort of overriding value to the “meta-structure” of the album—that is, the relationships between songs. I suppose I could just use the term “structure,” but “meta” makes it sound like I actually know what I’m talking about. Anyway, Abbey Road certainly isn’t the shining example of such meta-structure.

First of all, notice how different in style and substance the A- and B-sides of the album are: this is because John and Paul (with George Martin on his side) were basically at each other’s throats by this point, and had to divide the album straight down the middle with a chalk line, I Love Lucy-style. To be conciliatory, they mixed-and-matched some of each other’s songs, but each side was essentially a one-man show in terms of song selection.

Granted, the crux of your argument is the medley…you sort of disregarded the entire A-side, which I think is kind of foolish, given the strong showing by John. But even the medley is more fractured than you would like to admit: Paul didn’t conceive of the thing as a medley…all of the songs were written individually (most of them, by the way, during the fertile period in which they were composing the White Album). He reworked the order again and again before the final release…in fact, “Her Majesty,” which you refer to as an “appendix to the record” was originally cut from the record by Paul. It was in the middle of the medley, and a sound engineer, upon receiving instructions to cut it out, and having received previous instructions to never ever erase anything the Beatles recorded, moved it to the end of the reel, 15 or 20 seconds after “The End.” The effect seemed sufficiently whimsical that they left this mistake in. And a good mistake it was, but certainly not planned.

The medley effect, therefore, is secondary to the songs within the medley. I mean, what if I wrote a medley? Certainly no one would listen to it, even if it might have a great deal of this zen-flow you seem to be referring to, because the songs that made up this medley would suck.

I must reiterate: the basic unit of pop music is the song, not the album. That being said, we are debating on the topic of best Beatles album, not song. But nonetheless I contend that a pop album, being a collection of songs, must be judged on the merit of the individual songs of which it is composed. And I personally count no fewer than nineteen absolutely phenomenal songs on The White Album (a list of which I will gladly provide to my opponent) and eight others that no mere mortal could write. This leaves only three so-so songs. One-tenth of a two-disc album falls flat…certainly not the “skip-skip-skip” arrangement you spoke of.

An album is not a novel, as you claim it is. An album is an album. To say that the definition of a good album is one in which “each song is connected to that which precedes and follows it” is unnecessarily narrowing the scope of all the things a good album can be. Take a live album, for example: the best albums of many bands (the Velvet Underground comes to mind, or just about any jazz musician for that matter) are recorded live, and are essentially a reassembling of their previous studio work, usually in a radically different order from that originally set down. Please, Douglas, admit the profound error of your ways.

White Album v. Abbey Road, Round 1

This is the first portion of a three-part debate.

Click here for Round 1
Click here for Round 2
Click here for Round 3

Does anyone remember the Q101 Cage Match? Long before interactive media was a common phenomenon, back when Lance and Stoley were still on the air, Chicago's jammin' alternative radio station began pitting two songs against one another. Listeners would call in to vote for a winner, and the victor would move on to face another song the following week. The Cage Match has since inspired a host of similar programs, including the Pillow Fight on 94.7, the Zone.


Today, we embark on an entirely new journey. Instead of facing Spacehog against Hagfish, we are forcing the Fab Four to fight amongst themselves. Instead of one mediocre alternative tune against another, we are throwing two of the all-time greatest pop albums into the ring. In one corner we have Abbey Road (1969) defended by our very first guest writer, Doug D'Agati. Douglas, we welcome you. In the other corner we have The Beatles (aka the White Album, 1968) defended by WPNOB veteran and founder, Colin Bennett.

What follows is never polite, often personal, and yet always sophisticated. In sum, the two opponents have prepared their very strongest arguments, which will be presented here over the course of three days. During this time, we urge you to comment and share your own thoughts. By the end of the week, we hope the people will have declared a true winner. For now, let the match begin.

Opening Statements: Abbey Road

Doug: There are many questions that deserve careful thought: Is there a god? What profession am I best suited for? What’s that growth on my toe? However, one question trumps all others, and deserves the thought and attention of every discerning mind: What is the Beatles’ greatest album, Abbey Road or the White Album?

To begin, one must ask yet another question: What is an album? Some would assert that an album is a series of recordings issued together by an artist or group of artists. These people are jackasses and should be ignored. I would argue that a great album—much like a great novel—flows cohesively and logically from section to section. Just as a great novel guides us from chapter to chapter, a great album guides us from song to song in a deliberate fashion. Each song is connected to that which precedes and follows it. In short, a great album contains some sort of underlying structure. The White Album lacks such structure. I mean, what kind of copout ending to Disc 1 is “Julia”? Furthermore, what holds “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da,” “Wild Honey Pie,” and the “Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill” together? Nothing. Skip-Skip-Skip. Play.

Abbey Road, on the other hand, flows effortlessly from start to finish. Beginning with the potent “Come Together” and culminating with the tender and muted, “Her Majesty,” Abbey Road is an unparalleled musical odyssey, changing tone and speed in segments, rather than by song. The highlight of the album is the final 10-minute medley, which merges almost imperceptibly and includes such—dare I use the word—masterpieces as “Mean Mr. Mustard,” “Polythene Pam,” “She Came In Through the Bathroom Window,” “Golden Slumbers,” “Carry That Weight,” and “The End.” Conversely, if any kind of marriage exists between songs of the White Album, it is a J-Lo-esque marriage.

Abbey Road is one; the White Album is thirty.

Even when Abbey Road does make the occasional abrupt transition, it is deliberate and provocative. For instance, from its start Abbey Road slowly gains momentum, until climaxing with the hard-hitting and emphatic “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)”—only to be followed by the gentle strumming of Harrison’s “Here Comes the Sun.” To place the two most disparate tracks back-to-back is a bold move, but one that certainly paid off. Similarly, the deceptively titled “The End” begins with a raucous drum solo by Ringo—his only such solo—and then fades into the song’s final lines, which signal the album’s ostensible end. The perfect ending to a perfect album, you think. I guess I’ll pull up my pants, pry myself out of my lazyboy, saunter over to my CD player, and put in another disc, you decide…

Whoa, slow down there, chief!! The Beatles have one last surprise for you—but do pull up your pants anyway; it’s getting weird.

After a lengthy pause, the 17-second gem “Her Majesty” roars in, as if it were an appendix to the record. One word, two syllables: sublime. Okay, now it’s safe to pull up your pants and make your way to the CD player—though when you get there, you may want to hit “repeat.”

Opening Statements: White Album

Colin: To begin: there are almost as many “favorite” Beatles albums out there as there are people on this planet. How is this possible, you ask? The Beatles released some 20 albums and there are almost 6.5 billion people on the planet…surely there must be overlap? The answer is no. There isn’t. I don’t know how this works, it’s f-ing crazy. But I’ve never met anyone who agreed on a favorite Beatles album. Unfortunately, there are wrong choices to be made. This is not simply a matter of taste. I once met a man who said his favorite album was Help!. I punched this man in the face. You crazy man, I said. Help!, he yelled again. I pulled back for another punch, until I realized he was being mauled by a bear and was actually crying for help. Oh, I said. Later, in the hospital, he told me his favorite album was Rubber Soul.

Anyway, enough preface. My point is just that Abbey Road is not my opponent Douglas’s favorite album. He might think it is, and say it is, but he’s wrong. That poor little man hiding inside of him that I’ve seen with the aid of special drugs is screaming with all his heart “White Album! White Album!” Listen to that little man, Douglas. For he is your father.

First of all, I already know, thanks to other special drugs, what my opponent is going to say: Abbey Road stands as a cohesive whole, a shining, multi-faceted blah blah blah blah. Fine. Abbey Road has a “medley.” Big whoop. This is nothing extraordinary: Paul simply took a genre (classical symphony) and put his own unique pop stamp on it. And when you get right down to it, what’s so amazing about any of it? The fact that they rework musical “themes” throughout the record? Yeah, fifteen seconds of “You Never Give Me Your Money” in the middle of “Carry That Weight.” Wild.

If you’re looking for genre-warping, look no further than the two discs of The Beatles, my friend. It’s a history of every genre that led to the development of pop music, rolled into one and then smoked: slave spirituals, country-western, blues, soul, folk, rock and roll of every stripe, even reggae. There are, of course, more. There are almost as many different genres present on this double-album as there are songs (thirty). It’s as if they set out to write a better version of every song written in the fifty-odd years preceding the album, and pretty much succeeded. And with the possible exception of Paul, it contains the best songs individually written by each Beatle: Ringo with “Don’t Pass Me By” (undisputedly better than Abbey Road’s “Octopus’ Garden”), Harrison with “While My Guitar Gently Weeps,” and John with “Happiness is a Warm Gun” (more on this shortly). And in the case of Paul, I think you could even make a strong case for “Back in the U.S.S.R.,” although admittedly I’m partial to “Rocky Raccoon.”

This was a perfect-storm situation: each Beatle was simultaneously at the absolute pinnacle of his creative potential. The result is an album that seems schizophrenic only because a pantheon of gods was clawing at the insides of its creators’ minds. You say that the album lacks cohesion? Any sort of pattern? Well, good, I say. They weren’t sewing a pretty dress. They were writing songs. Remember: the basic unit of pop music isn’t the album. It is the song. Pop music was around long before the album, back when you could only fit three minutes of music onto one side of a record. And the Beatles were pop musicians…the best that ever lived, but pop musicians nonetheless. The Abbey Road medley is a wonderful achievement, but it’s a gimmick…it just doesn’t stack up to the best works in the symphonic genre it is trying to imitate.

Finally, the atom bomb: “Happiness is a Warm Gun.” Hands down, no question, the BEST SONG EVER WRITTEN in the last 12 million-or-so years. I happen to know Douglas agrees with me on this point. This is sort of like having God on your soccer team.* Even if he were the only player, I still think your team would have a pretty good season. So, I say, if they had put out an album called the White Album that contained only this ONE song, it would still be in the running for best album ever recorded. It just so happens another twenty-nine great songs are grouped around it. Quod Erat Demonstrandum.


*ED. ...or Michael Jordan on your basketball team.

Welcome to the Delihouse

Chow Chow / Deli Spice

March 1st is "Independence Movement Day" in Korea, a day to commemorate the 1919 student demand for liberation from Japan, which was not achieved until after WWII. In celebration of the holiday, and because I haven't posted a Korean song in a while, here's an indie classic of sorts: "차우차우 (Chow Chow)."

This 1997 hit still seems to be Deli Spice's calling card even though the band's been around for almost 10 years now. It starts with a nice dream-rock guitar lick that would sound at home on Seam's Are You Driving Me Crazy? or The Problem with Me. The rest isn't as good as anything on those two albums, but Deli Spice does manage to reel in the K-pop penchant for melodrama just enough to make for a solid song.

I have yet to hear the rest of the catalogue, but it's gotta be awesome if the title of their second LP Welcome to the Delihouse is any indication. Ranks right up there with Welcome to My Face.

I Had Two Gals Every Morning

Thirteen Women / Bill Haley & His Comets [1954]

(What follows is a licensed reenactment of the mental process of writing the B-side to the first rock 'n roll single to hit #1 on the charts.)

It's over. You've lost everything. The bomb has taken everything: your wife, your kids and your dog, your home and your Chevy with wings, your precious heirlooms and your cabinet of tchotchkes. If you wear glasses, they're gone too. The air is thick with smoke and radiation. But that doesn't matter because there's nothing to see. Nothing for miles and miles...

Wait! What's that?? You managed to salvage your guitar? A saxophone and drums, you say? And, look, in the distance—what is that? It's... it's thirteen women! Hooray!! There's women! There's tea and bread and 40-karate diamond rings! There's butter and sweetener! There's money and clothes! There's women! There's song! What more could you need?

Ah, yes: one man.

I'll Pull Potatoes From YOUR Ears

Rock Upon a Porch with You / TBLLT
Every Grubby Little Memory TBLLT

Little Donkey / TBLLT

After mentioning The Boy Least Likely To on Saturday, it seems reasonable to share their three B-sides today.

Yes, "Rock Upon a Porch" is the 4-star song of the bunch. But "Every Grubby Little Memory," is welcome to, even if it takes a while to build and employs what sounds like a dentist's drill toward the end. "Little Donkey" is the decorating-the-Christmas-tree song that circulated this past December. It is little.

Also: If somehow you haven't, definitely go get "Between the Lines," one of the two lovable Sambassadeur tracks that those wacky Swedes are still handing out for free after many a month.

The Other Best Party Ever

Solaris / advantage Lucy [1999]

朱い夏 / advantage Lucy [2005]

The cover of Fanfare (1999) to the left reminds me of The Best Party Ever (2005). And like The Boy Least Likely To, advantage Lucy has a deceptively juvenile sound. They are named in honor of Lucy Van Pelt of Peanuts fame after all.

This Lucy, however, doesn't just flirt around a piano. On "Solaris," the female vocalist, Aiko, sings, "Let's go for the Milky Way!" as the drums pound and the trumpets blast off. The guitarist even tosses in a mock countdown. It's their least subtle track, but the boisterousness doesn't hide the fact that this veteran group can compete with the best of its younger European counterparts, like Sambassadeur and The Concretes.

"朱い夏 (Vermilion Summer)" is more like a slow ascent in a hot-air balloon. Who needs a rocketship when there's no particular destination? Who needs real words—Japanese, English, or otherwise—when we've got aL singing "La, la, la" like this?

MORE advantage Lucy here.

aL's AMG Bio.

Put On Your Party Socks

Mr. Lee / The Disketttes

One day my boss says to me, "Jeremy, I have the best life in the world!" Taking the bait, I ask, "What makes your life so good?" (Beat.) I suddenly realize that he is being sarcastic. Even though he said "I have the best life in the world," he actually meant "I have the worst life in the world."

This all being quite complicated, I decided I would just give him a cheery song to make him feel better. I chose "Mr. Lee" by the Diskettes because his name also happens to be Mr. Lee. As I handed him a burned CD with only one song on it, I was fully aware that he might not enjoy it. Mr. Lee, the boss, is a 40-year-old Korean man with a wife and a son; Mr. Lee, the song, is a sock-hop clapfest appropriate for birthday parties in which the guest of honor is under 7 years old. Fortunately, the CD did not go to waste. Mr. Lee's son happens to be well under 7 years old, and he has recently fallen in love with "Mr. Lee," transferring it to cassette in order to listen to it on a Walkman everyday at school. An elementary school in Seoul. Just where it most belongs.

A number of other songs by the Diskettes and their friends can be found here. The band is also often happily featured at Said the Gramophone.

The 2000-Year Problem

Check out mp3blog.ch, which is currently hosting a blistering Japanese noiserock track (the oh-so-ironically titled "Pop Group") by the band にせんねんもんだい (aka Nisennenmondai aka 2000-Year Problem).

A Regular Robert Moses (redux)

(Note: The following MP3s were forcibly removed from this site.)

Punky Bad Hip / Blankey Jet City [1993]
Akaitanbarin / Blankey Jet City [1998]
I Love Tokyo / Blankey Jet City [2000]

How many fictional cities have you created? If I had to, I'd guess zero. Even if we agreed to count both cities and any additional "lands," I think I'd still go with zero. Don't be disheartened though. You aren't that far behind...

Creating fictional cities is no small task.

Plato: 1
St. Augustine: 2
Sir Thomas More: 1
Francis Bacon: 1
Jonathan Swift: 7+
William Faulkner: 1
Italo Calvino: a bunch of invisible ones
Kenichi Asai: 1

Thing is, all those guys are dead except one: Kenichi Asai. (My "hook" or "lead" is now officially over. I hope you liked it.) Mr. Asai created an imaginary metropolis and a rock band, and he named them both Blankey Jet City. Led by him, BJC emerged in 1990 after winning a prototype Japanese Idol contest. Despite these humble origins, BJC grew strong. Steve McClure explains,

"BJC soon gained a reputation as one of Japan’s hardest-working rock bands, doing a nationwide tour every year and releasing a steady stream of singles and albums. The band inspired intense devotion among its fans, who were caught up in the mythology of Blankey Jet City, a fictional city that served as the background of many of Asai’s songs, which deconstructed various images and pop icons of Western subculture."

The brash slices of English ("Sometimes I have skills / Sometimes I have sex") suggest that the Japanese lyrics are worth understanding. But I have not a lick of Japanese, so I can't say much more about the whole cities thing. What I can say: of the glut of Pixies-inspired early-'90s punkish Japanese bands, BJC sound the best. Definitely good enough to make Plato look like a pansy for wanting to abolish music.

Two recent compilations collect all of BJC's best songs; the 1997-2000 one is especially great.

Sweater Had Faces All Over It, Famous Faces Knitted All Over It

내게로 와 (Come to Me) / Clazziquai Project

Fill This Night / Clazziquai Project

The first two bands you learn about when you arrive in Korea as a foreigner are Epik High and Clazziquai Project. Along with pop singer/ridiculous dancer/snazzy dresser Rain, whose recent world tour included stops at Madison Square Garden, these two groups are very much responsible for helping spread the Korean wave throughout Asia and beyond. Why is it a "wave" rather than a fire? Probably because it's not exciting enough to be a fire. Unless, of course, you're a married Japanese woman unhealthily obsessed with stars from Korean television dramas. Then it's a fire. In your loins.

Seriously, Korean drama stars like Bae Yong Joon (pictured above and better known by his Japanese name Yon-sama) are gods. Their faces are on billboards, calendars, shirts, socks, moons... everything. In that always-trustworthy-on-contemporary-popular-Asian-culture-issues publication USA Today, Paul Wiseman writes,

Hiroshi Saito holds one of the most perilous jobs in this city of 12 million people. He's the security guard responsible for keeping hundreds of middle-age Japanese women away from a sculpture displaying the toned torso of South Korean heartthrob Bae Yong Joon.

An especially tough job because, supposedly, this sculpture comes to life if you squeeze it hard enough. And once the real Bae Yong Joon is unfrozen, there will be no stopping him: he has reportedly physically assaulted (i.e. slapped around) over 30 different managers and personal assistants already. Not to mention his genome, which was manipulated by Dr. Kwang so that he comes back stronger after each death (just like Superman's good buddy Doomsday).

The fervor over Korean music (as opposed to television and film) is a little more mellow, but Clazziquai Project is still wildly popular in and around Korea, providing guest spots and remixes on just about every big new K-Pop release. Their sound is clean and loungey, a little like Portishead lite. Boring, basically. But if you're interested in Korean culture at the moment, or drugged out enough to enjoy watered-down trip-hop, these two singles will be a grand treat. They're from Instant Pig (2004) and Color Your Soul (2005) respectively. No idea how one declines in albumtitle-making abilities so severely in the course of only one year. Zoloft, probably.

If for some reason it's genuinely good music you're looking for, check out the Valentine's day post at the always-fashionable Fluxblog.

The Dominant Theme in a Number of Places

Your Blood / Destroyer (2006)

No Cease Fires (Crimes... Baby) / Destroyer (1998)

Idea 18 / Destroyer (1996)

FINALLY. Finally: Destroyer's Rubies comes out tomorrow, featuring ten new tracks penned by Dan Bejar. All ten are good; seven are great. They've been listened to and written about already, so I'll spare you for the most part. The best description of the full album can be read at Popsheep, which also had some crazyrare Bejar demos up for grabs. They've removed "Idea 18," so here it is again. DB2 sings, "You tread water while I read the history of water." DB1 retorts, "All water is classic water."

Bejar's band, Destroyer, though both intelligent and sensational, is not to be confused with the professional wrestler who calls himself The Intelligent Sensational Destroyer (see Figures 1 & 2, which must be clicked on to be appreciated fully). That Destroyer is apparently big in Japan. He has his own bobblehead doll, wrote a book about himself, and released a Christmas album on which he sings "Jingle Bells" (half in Japanese). The Destroyer we're concerned with just has a bunch of albums. I guess there's no need for a Bejar bobblehead as his real head is already big enough.

That's probably why his songs are so good and so dense: his head is physically capable of harboring a huge number of obsessions simultaneously. The best thing about these obsessions is that while Bejar is often tagged as being ironic, he is so completely fixated on the subject matter he treats wryly that the obsessions themselves becomes genuine. The real crown jewels...

Track 1: Rubies
Obsession: meaning
Quote: Cast myself towards infinity / Trust me, I have my reasons

Track 2: Your Blood
Obsession: himself
Quote: Never had a chance / Never had to choose "Your Blood" versus Your Blues

Track 3: European Oils
Obsession: music, crimesagainstthestateofourlove
Quote: When I'm at war I insist on slaughter / And getting it on with the hangman's daughter

Track 4: Painter in Your Pocket
Obsession: words
Quote: Where did you get that line? / Where did you get that look? / Where did you get that penchant for destruction in the way you talk?

Track 5: Looter's Follies
Obsession: art, melodrama, European history
Quote: That month: another version of this miniature Rome / To set fire to / Why did we stop fucking around? / You girls like gazelles / Raise boys wearing bells / Blaze new trails in sound!

Track 6: 3000 Flowers
Obsession: literature, poetry, modernism
Quote: One-hundredth of a wet black bough // I was Clytæmnestra on a good day

Track 7: A Dangerous Woman Up to a Point
Obsession: mythologizing
Quote: Hey, your friends are fucked /In-so-far as your friend's an ancient beast bronzed in tar // Have I told you lately that I love you? / Did I fail to mention there's a sword hanging above you?

Track 8: Priest's Knees
Obsession: music, Maximalism
Quote: And I was just another West Coast Maximalist / Exploring the blues, ignoring the news from the front

Track 9: Water Colours Into the Ocean
Obsession: women
Quote: Too thin, too fair, downing your third drink / Standing at arm's-length in the square

Track 10: Sick Priest Learns to Last Forever
Obsession: religion, history, the music scene
Quote: Molly begets herself / She plans a merger with The Scene // To make it legal, Wilhelm's bride goes bulemic at the feast

I Want Many Dresses, I Want Much Money

Thank You / Rocket or Chiritori

Fifteen Love / Rocket or Chiritori

Vacation (Japanese Version) / Rocket or Chiritori

Anoraks are loved all the world over.

In 1997 and '98, Satoko Shibahara was 17. Better known as Rocket or Chiritori, she released a handful of singles and LPs before giving up music to focus on school. Some of what remains, especially "Vacation" and (especially especially) "Fifteen Love," is so pure it's hard to imagine Satoko is not still sitting in her bedroom, singing along every time her songs play through a new pair of headphones.

ROC's AMG Bio.

Cutie Girls Don't Love Me and Punk

MP3 Kakenukete Seishun / Ging Nang Boyz

MP3 Juu Nana Sai (...cutie girls don't love me and punk) / GNB

MP3 Inu Ningen / GNB

Ging Nang Boyz released 29 punk songs over two full-lengths in '05. The cover of one album features a nice Lichtenstein ripoff; the other a cartoon that looks inspired in equal parts by the Sgt. Pepper's LP, a page from Where's Waldo?, and Rodin's depiction of Dante's "Gates of Hell." GNB themselves sound more like the latter. Like the Sex Pistols or the Buzzcocks were reincarnated as a bunch of Japanese boyz throwing a party in your house.

...As soon as you hear the two quickshot bursts that open Door ("Juu Nana Sai" and "Inu Ningen"), you realize you're late. By the time you're inside, the place is packed and everyone's already drunk. But somehow you're not pissed. No matter how much yelling and noise, no matter how much beer's been spilled, it's not annoying. It's not annoying because the songs are as fun as they are frantic.

An hour and forty minutes later, the party's reached it's climax: the band plays "Kakenukete Seishun," an old favorite originally recorded when three of the boyz were known as Going Steady. Though happily all-over-the-place, GNB have remained solid all night, and there's yet forty more minutes left to go. But this moment is particularly memorable. It serves as proof that while Korean punk rockers might look better naked, they've still got some catching up to do to match the Japanese in the music department.

GNB's AMG Bio.

Original Title: 十七歳 (...cutie girls don't love me and punk)
Title Romanization: Juu Nana Sai
Title in English: 17 Years Old
Album: Door

Original Title: 犬人間
Title Romanization: Inu Ningen
Title in English: Dog Human
Album: Door

Original Title: 駆け抜けて性春
Title Romanization: Kakenukete Seishun
Title in Babelfish: Running coming out, characteristic spring
Original Album: 君と僕の第三次世界大戦的恋愛革命
Album Romanization: Kimi to boku no daisanji sekai taisenteki renai kakumei
Album in Babelfish: You my third great war romantic love revolution

I Said, "I Am Kris Kristofferson"

Chelsea Hotel #1 / Leonard Cohen [live in Tel Aviv, 1972-04-19]

Chelsea Hotel #1 / Leonard Cohen [live 1972 from "Golden Voice" comp]

In Korea, on Valentine's Day the boys and the men are not obliged to do anything. Valentine's Day is for girlfriends and wives to give presents to their significant others. Korean guys get to wait until "White Day" on March 14th before they have to reciprocate. Not a bad deal, but I'm still gonna share a gift today.

"Chelsea Hotel #2" is one of my top 10 favorite songs of all time. It's like a #2 value meal from McDonald's: a true classic. You get everything you want, plus a second cheeseburger. That makes "Chelsea Hotel #1" the Big Mac meal. Original and tasty, but not as plain or as perfect as the #2.

In this case, the "original" is about as tough to find as a Leonard Cohen tune can get. He never recorded it, and only a few bootleg versions are available. This one from 1972 is far and away the best. It's both an early version and a different song entirely. The melody and the lyrics are still hypnotic, but a little off like the special sauce. Cohen hasn't yet realized the desperate simplicity of "I need you / I don't need you / I need you / I don't need you." He hasn't yet discovered that he can get away with "all of that jiving around" in a love song; as long as it's a love song about how things only become eternal by leaving, he is free to use all the '60s anachronisms he pleases. Instead he sings, "Making your sweet little sounds..." He sings, "My friends of that year, they were all getting queer / And me, I was just getting even." He sings, "Racing the midnight train all naked..." He sings like he's waiting for a great song to emerge, and it's just about there.

Great Lake Swimmers

Let's Trade Skins / Great Lake Swimmers

A few weeks ago, I had a dream in which a serial killer cut off the skin of one of his victims and wore it like a one-piece costume. Then he went and hung out with her friends, pretending to be her until they noticed s/he was acting really strange and cracking around the edges. "Let's Trade Skins" is not that creepy, unfortunately, but it's quiet in the way that dreams are, like you're watching a movie with the sound off. Tony Dekker, the main Swimmer, sounds like the guy from My Morning Jacket lurking in the body of the guy from Red House Painters. When he says, "Tonight there's a party," you know he's lying right to your face.

See also: "Moving Pictures Silent Films," "The Man With No Skin," and "Bodies and Minds."


Imaginary Bars / Great Lake Swimmers

This song is about as joyful as GLS gets, so it goes with the photo above. Dude looks happy.

A Swift Crane Kick to the Head

MP3 Karate Feelings / Messer für Frau Müller

Messer für Frau Müller is not even a little Japanese. They’re a Russian group that makes music which is probably referred to as “pastiche glitch-cabaret” on other planets in other dimensions. Nevertheless, the guy who recommended the insane Japanese video clip you were supposed to check out yesterday enjoys listening to “Karate Feelings” while watching said video. That’s right—Gene, our friend and yours, is an international multi-tasker. About this song being spectacular he is right. But I prefer to imagine it as the soundtrack to something else.

Everyone knows that the only good thing ever to come out of Mad TV is the animated version of the Spy vs. Spy comic strips. My pitch: A color version of Spy vs. Spy with Mr. Miyagi as one spy and a plump Jewish guy with a big moustache as the other. The action would involve a great deal of dodging around corners and getting hit on the head with giant inflatable bats and/or plastic xylophones. As a bonus, at the end of every episode the two spies would reconcile, and together they would beat the director of The Next Karate Kid to a bloody pulp. During each installment, “Karate Feelings” plays exactly one time.

MP3 Casiotone Nation / Soul Coughing

I can’t remember which song is used in the real Spy vs. Spy cartoon, but I have a feeling it might be by Soul Coughing. This is not that song. But if for some reason you don't have "Casiotone Nation" already, you're missing out on an awfully impressive display of lyric and mathematic virtuosity (the latter probably inspired by School House Rocks). So here it is, in all its lemony-fresh free-radical glory.

Crash and Bizzzurn

Crash and Burn / Anokha

Take Ecstasy with Me (Magnetic Fields cover) / !!!

We all know about the didgeridoo, mostly from summer camp counselors who thought they were really "out there" because they knew how to blow into an aboriginal Australian instrument. Amber, one half of Seoul-based Anokha, plays the sucker like they wish they could in northern Wisconsin.

Nowhere is that truer than on the explosive two-minute instrumental that opens Anokha's 2005 debut, Rough. On "Crash and Burn," the didgeridoo sounds like a pulsating lightsaber. Or rather a pair of pulsating lightsabers scratching and courting each other. Meanwhile, Anokha's other half (Pam) bangs away on the drumkit like a crazy ninja. All in all, it's some awesome ultra-violence.

The rest of Rough is a mixed bag. The other instrumentals are worth a listen, but most of the songs are weighed down by lyrics that read like they were lifted from poems locked away in a sixth-grader's journal ("Burn out desire, smite it with fire," "I'm choking on the pieces of my broken heart," and the like). This short viddy of Anokha performing "Crash and Burn" proves they've got the frantic energy to do better.

The !!! cover of "Take Ecstasy with Me" shares two extremely important qualities with "Crash and Burn." First, it begins with a similar lightsaber-ish sound, though synthed. Second, it rules. That's the other thing.

Best of the Best

Nothing new today. But in case 20 songs was too much to handle, I've hand-picked the best of the best from the Lunar New Year Extravaganza. These three should make Eric Roberts proud.

Best of LNYE, Pt. 1: Las Cruces Jail / Two Gallants [American]

Best of LNYE, Pt. 2: Ha Ha Ha Song / Jaurim [Korean]

Best of LNYE, Pt. 3: Bijt Mijn Tong Af / Spinvis [Dutch]

LNYE, Pt. 1
LNYE, Pt. 2
LNYE, Pt. 3
LNYE Condensed: Best of the Best

Put On Your Party Shoes

A Certain Romance (original version) / Arctic Monkeys

Bigger Boys & Stolen Sweethearts / Arctic Monkeys

Yeah, yeah, the Arctic Buttmonkeys are the last band in the world that needs another write-up. But I'm a bit knackered (Brit. slang, worn; tired; tuckered out), and these two tracks off the "unreleased" Beneath the Boardwalk EP have been fondling me in all the right places today. "A Certain Romance" is available on the huge-selling Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not, but this version's far better. It's not that different, just enough. It's got more energy, unmistakably, and if the Arctic Monkey's have anything at all going for them, it's energy.

It could be that the drum intro sounds like it's being beaten on steel rather than skin. Or could be that this mix is sped up and 10 seconds shorter. But it's not. It's just that the second syllable of "Reeboks" gets more love. In this early incarnation of the song, the way young Mr. Turner sings the first five lines makes me wish I'd grown up across the Atlantic.

Well oh they might wear classic Reeboks
Or knackered Converse
Or tracky bottoms tucked in socks
But all of that's what the point is not
The point's that there ain't no romance around there

Okay, so the lyrics barely reach Oasis-levels of depth. Still, if there's anything I've learned while teaching SAT Writing classes, it's that combining concrete and abstract language is an extremely effective technique. The sticky syllables and smells of "classic Reeboks," "knackered Converse," and "tracky bottoms tucked in socks" make the word "romance" infinitely less gag-worthy. In fact, they make the missing romance sound almost as good as the sneakers.

Speaking of sneaks, the way Turner pronounces "knackered," it sounds almost like "Nike." And "Nike Converse" isn't an oxymoron anymore since the former purchased the latter (history, kicks, cred, and all) for $305 million in 2003. Intentional or not, all this makes the opening lines a subtler, funnier jab at the keeping-it-real scene than might be expected.

"Bigger Boys & Stolen Sweethearts" is off the same internet-only EP. It doesn't pack quite the same punch, but we do get a Smiths reference, a few more nice Britishisms, and one great line: "But she's not nice / She's pretty fucking far from nice."

Waatchaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar

Waatchaaar / Jinen

Just a quick heads-up today. Jinen is a new shoegazey Japanese band that's got me really excited. They're supposed to release their debut sometime later this year; meanwhile, they've made three solid demos available here. (That's right, more ryhme action for yaaaaaaaa.) All three, though imperfectly mixed, are worth checking out.

LNYE, Pt. 3: My Favorite Album of 2005

Ik Wil Alleen Maar Zwemmen (I Want Only But To Swim) / Spinvis
Kom in the Cockpit (Come in the Cockpit) / Spinvis
Bijt Mijn Tong Af (Bite My Tongue Off) / Spinvis
Bonus: Smalfilm (Small Film) / Spinvis

The first installment of the Lunar New Year Extravaganza dealt with music from the Boring Three (the U.S., Canada, and Britain). The second segment focused on a Korean band. (See links below.) The third and final post in celebration of the new moon-year is on a man from the Netherlands.

Spinvis writes songs. When I first heard them, I figured a wizard had transformed the Icelandic noisefashioning foursome known as Múm into a 41-year-old Dutch songwriter and his troupe.
But that's stupid. The only real similarity between Spinvis and Múm is an ability to make non-acoustic music sound effortlessly organic. Spinvis writes songs that are tuneful, though crafted to feature bits of glockenspiel, strings, winds, bleeps, and blips. Spinvis also released my favorite album of 2005 and has me believing that music is better when you don't understand the words.

That album, Dagen van Gras, Dagen van Stro (Days of Grass, Days of Straw), is the perfect soundtrack for mildly-threatening outdoor activities. "Ik Wil Alleen Maar Zwemmen" is the childhood walk that unexpectedly turns to a gallop. "Bijt Mijn Tong Af" is the hang-gliding session that opens with a quiet Kim Deal "ah-ooo" and a Grandaddy bassline, and closes with you hanging from a tree. And "Kom in the Cockpit" is an upbeat flying machine sexscapade. There's also the slightly mournful backfloat ("Aan de Oevers van de Tijd"); the cellphone war around the campfire ("Het Voordeel van Video"); the storm impending on a night of outdoor ballet ("Flamingo"); the sailboat ride just off the shore ("Dagen van Gras, Dagen van Stro"); and the 11-minute stuttered-word journey through the forest of unwritten Dutch fairy tales ("Lotus Europa"). Purchase all that and more here or at the iTunes music store. (Rhymezone!)

"Smalfilm," released in 2002, is the single from Spinvis's self-titled debut. (Double rhyme!!)

For even more Spinvis-ing, go here.

LNYE, Pt. 1
LNYE, Pt. 2
LNYE, Pt. 3
LNYE Condensed: Best of the Best

LNYE, Pt. 2: Purple Rain... Forest

A Side / Jaurim
Vlad / Jaurim
Ha Ha Ha Song / Jaurim
17171771 / Jaurim

Jaurim is the foremost deity of Korean indie pop. The four carefree bicyclers pictured above emerged in 1997 as Ugly Duckling, quickly changed their name to Jaurim (which means "Purple Rain Forest" in Korean), and awoke to fame after recording the soundtrack for a popular Korean television drama (The Man with a Flower). Over the following 9 years, they released approximately 10 albums—it's hard to keep track because lead singer Kim Yoon-ah kinda-sorta left the band in 2002. Since then, she's released a number of solo efforts, the remaining band members recorded an album as the Chococreamrolls, and they've all collaborated for live shows and their most recent LP, All You Need Is Love (2004).

The draw is definitely Yoon-ah; her voice is Jaurim's superpower. On tracks like the brief "A Side" (off of 1999's Bijungkyojakob), a perfect opener or closer for a mixtape, she twees her way lightly through a single minute of la la la's. On "Vlad" (from 2002's Vol. 4) she flexes her muscles a bit more, running alongside crunchy guitars, singing in Korean, and yelling English fragments like, "Time to die" and "You'll be mine." But it's on the recent "reunification" album All You Need Is Love, that Yoon-ah really demonstrates her range. On "Ha Ha Ha Song"—the album's sing-along standout—she moves adroitly back-and-forth between a Latin lounge-singer persona and a punkier guise, oftentimes within the spacing of a single phrase. And on "17171771" (which boasts a melody so familiar the song sounds like a cover), she poses as the delicate type despite knowing full well that she's a great deal more.

LNYE, Pt. 1
LNYE, Pt. 2
LNYE, Pt. 3
LNYE Condensed: Best of the Best

Lunar New Year Extravaganza, Pt. 1

MP3s Lunar New Year Fun-Pack / Various Artists

FULL ZIP Lunar New Year Fun-Pack / Various Artists

Happy Chinese/Lunar New Year! To celebrate, I will try to make you read more than usual.

Apparently there's a new rule requiring one to apologize prior to making a "Best Of" list. Every 2005 list I've read has begun with some tepid disclaimer about how it would be impossible to capture the magic and beauty of an entire year of music (or film or books or whatever) in a single list. The only problem with these disclaimers is that they are totally and completely false. Every single time I declare, "This is the best (blank) of (blankiness)" I am speaking the gospel. I love proclaiming "bests" and "favorites" because I'm always right. And I love the word "definitely."

Thus, below are my Top 12 Songs of 2005. I've already put all of them on pretty much every mix I've made this past year; I didn't create or discover any of them; and they aren't particularly obscure. I do love them, however. There's one for each animal of the Chinese calendar (plus one), but the animals are out of order because I'm not Chinese and because this is the order in which the songs should be played as a mix.

None of that is very important. What's important is that I would really like you to listen to any of the following songs that you don't already have. Click the "MP3s" link above and download the ones you need; or click the "ZIP" link and download the whole sack. Also, check the doodads at the very bottom for the rest of the New Year's celebration.

1. DOG: Major Label Debut (fast version) / Broken Social Scene

The extra energy on this version is loose like an old certainty, like it comes from a water mill rather than a wall socket.

2. MONKEY: Hey Now Now / The Cloud Room
Carefully designed to make you jump every time. If you don't, there's something wrong with your spinal cord.

3. ROOSTER: We Listen Every Day / The Go! Team
Just maybe: heaven is hot pink and these are the trumpets that sound when the gates swing open.

4. OX: Kick Out the Chairs (WhoMadeWho remix) / LCD Soundsystem | Munk
As long as we can dance up in heaven, who cares if there's a shortage of chairs, muthafucka?

5. PIG: Gone (ft. Cam'ron and Consequence) / Kanye West
Should've been the first single off an otherwise mediocre album. Includes references to Burger King, Taco Bell, KFC, and restaurants that require flair ("Says she wants diamonds, I took her to Ruby Tuesday's").

6. DRAGON: Raising the Sparks / Akron/Family
Next time you're burning effigies in the deserts of Nevada, this foot-stomper best be playing on the iPod.

7. RAT: Las Cruces Jail (single version) / Two Gallants
Within the first second of this song, the vocalist (Adam Stephenson) has already broken a world record: All-Time #1 Rendition of the Word "Well." When he screams, it actually sounds like a jail break.

8. HORSE: History of Lovers / Iron & Wine | Calexico
Best collaboration of 2005. More horns.

9. GOAT: I Have a Tail / Pompey
I first heard this song yesterday, courtesy of Fluxblog. It's play count is already 4,201. And, yes, it does sound like a mutation of Animal Collective. Like a collective of imaginary battery-powered animals. Which is to say, exactly like Caribou's "Yeti," the 13th best song of 2005.

10. RABBIT: Great Day (remix of MF Doom/Madvillain) / Four Tet
A 2005 remix of the best song from the best collaboration of 2004. Unlike the original, this doesn't take place before a party, prefiguring a great day. This takes place on a porch by a stream as a great day is transforming itself into a memory. A memory which you will later relate to your "puh-sychiatrist."

11. TIGER: Two For Joy / Electrelane
Around 4 minutes and 26 seconds, "Don't go near the water" becomes "Let's get in the water." A few seconds later, this song becomes the most ecstatic track off one of the most underrated albums of '05.

12. SNAKE: Surprise, AZ (Richard Buckner cover) / Cynthia G. Mason
In an ordered universe, a collection of covers like the 2005 Believer CD would suck every time. Not here. Devendra Banhart inhabits "Fistful of Love" completely, then outstrips it; and the Constantines precisely savor the early '90s on Elevator to Hell's "Why I Didn't Like August 93." But Cynthia Mason outdoes them both. Her barebones version disposes of the affected vocals, harmonica, and twang of Buckner's original, allowing her voice to seep into the empty spaces these excisions create. For every bit she takes away, the melody becomes that much more devastating.

13. MONSTER: Great Day (instrumental mix) / Four Tet
Bonus track, the instrumental from #10.

NOTE: The temporary/celebratory title graphic is/was courtesy of one Dr. Robert Schmidt.

LNYE, Pt. 1
LNYE, Pt. 2
LNYE, Pt. 3
LNYE Condensed: Best of the Best

Increase Your Sexual Potency (With Distortion)

MP3 Immortal Seal's Gallbladder / Bulssajo
불멸의 해구신 / 불싸조

MP3 Furious Five / Bulssajo
퓨리어스 파이브 / 불싸조

That's right, the name of the first track off Bulssajo's debut LP Furious Five (2005) translates roughly to "Immortal Seal's Gallbladder." Apparently, in Korean the title is a pun that references a popular television drama; a sea captain who developed some sort of turtle-shaped warships; and the real practice, among Korean men, of eating the gallbladder of seals for increased (i.e. everlasting) sexual stamina. Also known as "staminamina."

Bulssajo itself is a three-piece dream-rock outfit. I saw them play a short set last weekend where they opened with an impressive song of their own and then played a faithful cover of Yo La Tengo's "I Heard You Looking." I figured being as white as Ira Kaplan and knowing it was enough of a reason to talk with the guitarist, Sangchol Han, after the show. He was friendly and explained that Bulssajo is currently in the studio recording their first real album (Furious Five was just a "test recording"). He said he likes YLT but also rattled off People Under the Stairs and Mr. Lif as influences because he spins on the weekends.

The two songs posted above both remind me of Seam, but the guitar work has a harder edge, and the vocals are mixed so far back you can't understand the lyrics no matter what language you speak. As a whole, the album is rough but very consistent.

More Bulssajo here.


MP3 I Heard You Looking / Yo La Tengo

MP3 I Heard You Looking (live 6/20/95) / Yo La Tengo

One of my favorite rock instrumentals of all time. The guitar's droning march becomes more and more weirdly joyful each time it emerges from its own distortion.

More Flaming Robot Music

M: Hey Jerry?

J: Yes Mike?

M: Do these
yellow lights
make me
look gay?

J: (Pause)

M: Be honest

J: You're not gay?

Full-size Robot Mike. Full-size Robot Jerry.

MP3 You Gotta Hold On (full version) / The Flaming Lips

"Biggest mistake EVER" was my reaction to discovering that "You Gotta Hold On" is not on on the tracklist for the Lips' forthcoming At War with the Mystics LP. Actually I didn't care that much. But it does seem weird that this glitchy robotic new-agery is not slated for release at all even though the video (featuring...you guessed it, robots!!) was made available in November. I guess the feel-goodisms are piled on too heavy for even these softest-hearted of rock stars: "And with a lot of patience/We'll see a lot of changes/And the United Nations/Will see our love is only love//And there's nothing to be afraid of." Whatever, I still prefers this to either of the two Mystics tunes that have been released thus far. Loveisloveisloveislove.

MP3 The W.A.N.D. / The Flaming Lips

Most people probably disagree, so if you don't got it here's the first single.

MP3 Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, Pt. 1 (Japanese vocals version) / The Flaming Lips

This one's to fill the Koreapan quota.

I Heart The Lord

No Job / I Love JH

Oh My Darling / I Love JH

Word on the street has it that the mysterious letters in the name I Love JH refer to both Jennifer Love Hewitt and Jesus H. Christ. But listening to the first single from ILJH's debut LP (which came out yesterday), one gets the sense that they might as well stand for the singer's middle-school boyfriend and that delicious Josh Hartnett. Whatever you believe, "No Job" is gummy and reasonably representative of Korean indie pop. The lyrics are in English and only occasionally of any interest ("I don't wanna talk about life"), but the hooks are in all the right spots.

Mildly related: According to both Dan Brown and part four of the Bible, Jesus' full middle name is Herbert. But they are wrong. Like Harry Truman, Jesus has a middle initial that refers only to itself.

Remember That Club Scene From "Blade"?

I'm a Vampire / Future Bible Heroes

Definitely the best song by any Magnetic Fields side project. Imagine Stephen Dorff, John Malkovich, Tom Cruise, Eddie Murphy, and one of the blood-suckers from the Buffy movie (not starring Sarah Michelle Gellar) all dancing together at an impossibly glam Halloween party hosted by Stephin Merritt. The eternal Claudia Gonson is onstage singing, and it sounds like this.

I'm a Vampire (extended version) / Future Bible Heroes

The remix is inferior, but it's longer and the extra minutes are appreciated. It's also further dancified and adds a nice "Ba-ba-ba-ba" backing vocal from the Vampiress herself. Still, if I was gonna remix this treasure, I'd just copy & paste it after itself and title the project "I'm 2 Vampires." Go here to buy Eternal Youth. Yeah, it's that easy.

A Teeth-Whitening Pep Rally

MP3 Lovely / Kim Jong-guk [down]

This is the very beginning of the soon to be eminent We Pass Notes On Bananas, so the two songs for today are supposed to represent the opposite extremes of music in South Korea. This one's by Kim Jong-guk who's been around ten years and still has the voice of a castrated angel, not to mention hair that appears to be unshatterable. "Lovely" is from his third album, This Is Me (2005), and can currently be heard on every radio in every convenience store throughout the land. I'd tell you to buy the album and support Mr. Kim, but the melody is so catchy and the song so ridiculous that you probably won't want to. Plus, he's got to be a jillionaire by now.


MP3 Ping / The Ten Speeds

In contrast, The Ten Speeds barely exist. They only record when their London-based guitarist visits Seoul. They have no drummer. And their bassist is a Canadian who's been living in Korea for ten years and plans to leave soon. (He wears a Paul McCartney hat and drives a purple scooter.) But "Ping" is good, if unpolished, Ian Curtis worship, and the band somehow continues to survive in an underground scene focused primarily on punk and noise. I'd tell you to buy the album, but it's not an album and it costs nothing. "Ping" and five other tracks are available at the website for Double Riche, the band's moniker before it was rechristened The Ten Speeds. Like, you know, a bicycle.

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