where is everybody?

so, lately i'm pertty bummed. my car got towed, i'm so broke i'm on the ramen noodle soup diet, i have a massive migraine, and i just spent a week in southern utah. shit sucks, i'll deal.

moving on, rhino just did a reissue of closer, unknown pleasures, and still on rad 180 gram vinyl. check that shit out!

while you're waiting for your order to arrive, watch joy divison slaying "dead souls" live in 1979 at the apollo theatre in manchester. the sound sucks, but fuck it, it's live joy division.



it's fun being young, depressed, and surrounded by a bunch of happy tan people that are stoked on the new kanye album. fuck yeah!

i wanna know if you can hit it and quit it

there's nothing much worse than spending a couple days in eastern washington, 'cept for maybe a few days in southern utah... which is where i ended up instead of my intended destination of spokane.

since there's nothing to do here 'cept "climb some rocks 'n shit," i've been listening to 7"s and LPs until my ears bleed, reading books on phil spector, and watching james hetfield and tony iommi slay queen's "stone cold crazy" on youtube. fuck yeah!

i love metallica. they kinda lost me on that "st. anger" crap, but i'm pretty sure the only people left liking that greased up fist of shit were those die-hard homo-fearin' beer guzzlin' fucktards who are really into that new beaver-metal sound (see also: hell yeah). in case you're wondering what "beaver-metal" is, figure it out. pansy ass pussy "metal." get it? kinda annoying, kinda gross, kinda boring. sorta like white trash beaver, ak/a the majority of their current fanbases.

anyway, loooooong before lars started his campaign to rid the world of file sharing and back even further from when hetfield set the bottle down for good, they used to stack hot bitches like pancakes every night backstage when they were on tour with guns 'n roses. check out this clip of hetfield reading (and burping) axl rose's ridiculous list of backstage demands to promoters across the world.



fuck yeah! but hey, if you churn out a fucking masterpiece like "appetite for destruction," i guess you're entitled to your faggy ham cubes.

right now i'm watching "american hardcore" for the upteenth time, and after rolling around in fits of laughter over the concept of moby even attending a punk show, much less actually performing in one, i've been looking up rare performances by some of the bands featured, and getting that special tingly feeling between my legs while watching some of these dudes lose their shit on stage.

check out this awesome footage of the misfits covering black flag's "rise above" live in boston circa 1980something.

face full of black soot

i think a bunch of people watched the mtv vma's last week, but i'm kinda out of the pop music loop, so i missed out. sucks to be me... not. even though i didn't tune in, a ton of people kept sending me text messages telling me to "check out britney spears' performance" from that night on youtube. well, i kinda don't give a shit about what or who britney is doing or not doing, so i haven't watched it. but here's a link if you wanna check it out. basically i heard she kinda puts no effort into it, and she lacks any stage presence. wait, how is this different from her entire career so far? riiiiiight. and, hey, america? there's a reason her initials are "b.s."

so anyway, i was at work, doing cool shit, when someone mentioned the vma's (which is unusual since we're all so cool, hip and indie that anything mainstream is usually shunned with waspy quips and a curled lip), and britney's performance was the topic of conversation. my ADD was kicking in and i started to zone out, when i heard that some kid from the middle of nowhere basically filmed himself having a meltdown 'cos people "won't leave britney alone." i'm always more than interested in people making complete assholes out of themselves on youtube, so naturally, i checked it out:



i love it when emo doucher kids freak out over pieces of already been chewed bubble gum pop princesses. i may wear a lot of black eyeliner, have pale skin, and a general disdain towards humanity, but i don't even remember the last time i cried, and i haven't purposefully tried to hurt myself for a while, so guess that means i'm outta the running to be an emo kid.

moving on from shit, i've been listneing to a lot of cool music recently. one of the dudes i work with turned me onto a cool group called the troggs. i dig their 60s garage rock monotone voices. anyway, you've heard 'em at least through their hit song entitled "wild thing" that the jimi hendrix experience famously covered. you may also recall that hendrix had more success with bob dylan's "all along the watchtower" than the actual songwriter himself. don't get me wrong, hendrix was wicked rad, but i like dylan loads more, so i kinda feel all geekily protective of his original version.

but anyway, back on the troggs, check out this awesome promo video for "night of the long grass" circa 1967. these guys did a lot of short films to their tunes (music videos?) before music videos were even really around... it's not as groundbreaking as the d.a. pennebaker's visual companion to dylan's "subterranean homesick blues," but it's still pretty rad:



the troggs are fucking awesome.

i'm gonna be in washington starting next tuesday for a week. i really don't know what else to say about it, so i'll just leave it at that. let's just say it's gonna be a loooooooong week. e-mail me if you wanna hang out and do cool shit. i'm open.

walk into the sea

this fall is shaping up to be the best concert "season" i've seen in a long time... there seems to be a never-ending train of rad bands that are out on tour right now. i'm really super stoked on seeing the jesus and mary chain again at the wiltern, queens of the stone age at the nokia ginorma-dome, pj harvey at the orpheum, u.n.k.l.e. at the echoplex, and a fucking ton of awesome bands at this year's vegoose festival... all in the course of two weeks at the end of october. fuck yeah! too bad i gotta miss richard ashcroft pulling his head out of his ass and laying down some cool shit live with the verve in november. ah well, there's always next time, right? RIGHT? whatever, i've got urban hymns on vinyl, so i'll just slap that mofo on and stare at the verve poster above my bed, and it'll basically be the same thing as being there. yeah, i'm really just that lame.

the verve playing "the drugs don't work" live on later... with jools holland



doesn't get much better than that...

...well, except for the rumor i heard that's been swirling around. the story is that my bloody valentine has been confirmed to headline next year's coachella fest. this is kinda bizarre to be hearing about right now since it's just the beginning of september... and i'm still not fully recovered from last year's desert activities. but if it's true that mbv is reuniting and playing, look for me hanging out at the polo field about 3 weeks before the festival actually starts.

btw, kevin, get on it and make a new record! at the very least work on remastering some of the original issues or something. $70 for the "out of print" you made me realise ep at amoeba is ridiculous, even if you're someone who works there and gets an awesome discount (see also: me). we don't wanna hear anymore non-mixes of bow wow wow's "i want candy," so please just get on with it by calling bilinda up to see if she's down with lubing up the ol' windpipes and laying down some new tunes with you (hint: she probably is).

anyone down to go see low at the troubadour with me? i got an extra ticket for their show on the 29th of september (saturday)... e-mail me if you wanna go.

check 'em out:



you can pay me back by buying me a rootbeer float, or by helping me deface bright eyes stickers:



i fucking hate bright eyes.

rock my hole

i just finished watching the rolling stones' documentary "gimme shelter" last night. between the hells angels starting a fight on stage with mick jagger to all the hippies frying their brains out on 'cid at 9am, i was hooked. the best part was when mick was walking out of the trailer and POW! he gets popped in the face by some derranged dude and gets a bloody nose for it. shit, son!

the new mindless self indulgence live dvd comes out next week (sept. 11), entitled "our pain, your gain." i couldn't be more stoked. loved and known these guys for a long time, and their live shows are unreal, so it'll be nice to "relive the experience." it's been fun to watch 'em evolve from an underground band that a bunch of dorks who play halo in their mom's basement listened to. now they're out on tour as the emo draw of the summer at "projekcdt revolooshun," headlining alongside stinkin' park and my chemical bro-mance.

check out the trailer, that, while poorly cut and consisting largely of a 15-year-old audience, is still rad:



remember he 90s? msi has been around longer than half their fanbase is old:





that reminds me: hey, emo-kids with rainbow colored dreads? thanks for putting kool-aid in your hair to make it all those wicked sweet colors. those shows can get really hot and sweaty when you're in the pit, and sometimes you get really thirsty. thank god that you're there to save the day with your colorful sweaty ropes made of hair. all i gotta do is reach out, put my cup underneath your carefully crafted 'do and squeeze. yeah, it's a little diluted, and kinda salty, but that's good, right? like gatorade or some shit?

while msi are outrageous live performers, they're no gg allin. as much as i love east coast punk, i could never get into gg. lyrically, his music is kinda garbage. the dude gets naked, plays with his vienna sausage a lil' bit, then takes a shit on stage and eats it. he randomly grabs chicks from the audience and forces 'em to blow him. he's got some really shitty tattoos. i'm not feelin' it. but hey, dee dee ramone was into it:



i recently watched the most popular film in the vast library of dvds available on gg's live performances, the aptly titled "hated." kinda funny how the director todd phillips, went on to direct "old school," the remake of "starsky & hutch" and my personal fav, "road trip." it's also kinda funny how he started off filming steaming piles of shit and continues to still do that.

rolling stone magazine redeemed themselves a few weeks ago when they put the original lineup of GnR on the cover and featured some cool articles about the creation of "appetite for destruction." this week, the cover features maroon 5 and an article with axl wannabe, scott weiland. needless to say, that's just brown.

you would know

it's no secret that i adore queens of the stone age. and yeah, it was prolly for the best to see bassist nick oliveri pack up his coke and leave (see also: kicked dragging and screaming to the fuckin' curb). their new bassist, michael shuman*** (of wires on fire fame) has picked up the slack most recently, filling the gigantic void left upon nick's departure. queens still slays it, but something definitely changed when oliveri left.

in the early days, there was some good shit when nick and josh were paired up together, and scarcely has one seen better back cover art than on the first queens of the stone age record where nick oliveri (sporting a shirt emblazoned with the word "cocaine" on it) and josh homme (wearing a "D.A.R.E. to keep kids off drugs" vintage tee) are situated on either side of a chain link fence. get it? oh, and not to mention that great lil' ufo in the top right hand corner. RANDOM? check it out.

aaaaaanyway, recently, nick's kinda gone off the deep end, and hate to say it, but mondo generator sucks a fat nut. ozz fest, nick? c'mon, man, you gotta know shit ain't goin' too hot when you're giving it all up to sharon.

remember when kids thought creed was cool? i seem to distinctly recall some dudes in eastern washington with baseball caps who definitely wanted to lube up scott stapp's righteous staff. here's nick oliveri (with josh homme and chris goss) giving everyone the real skinny, no holds barred style, straight up on music "today" (which, incidentally isn't much different from that of 5 years ago).



"staind is just brown." fuck yeah, dude, i'm gonna start saying "brown" when something is SHIT, too, so i can be cool like the guys in qotsa:



memo to all the douchebags who think it's "cool" to jump up on stage and throw up the "rock 'n roll horns" while walking around "strutting" their shit in front of the band: YOU'RE IN THE FUCKING WAY. no one paid to see your drunk ass haphazardly fall across the stage in a drunken stupor (unless you happen to be the lead singer of the icarus line). you're not in the band, and you probably never, ever will be. you're killing it, bro, and not in the good way. do everyone a favor, go back to the lawn section, smoke a "doobie" and listen to the music, while enjoying it from where you belong: in the fucking audience. until you're up there headlining, get off the fucking stage.

i'm posting my podcast prolly later tonight or tomorrow... whenever i get around to finishing it. i'm still pretty new at this shit, so it's not going to be of the highest quality, but i can promise some rad bootlegs and cool shit to listen to if you're bored.

in the mean time, i'm gonna go back to eating these really fucking rad chips called "rap snacks." seriously. these are the fucking real deal.

***side note: what the fuck is up with the trend of putting up terrible pictures of people on wikipedia? we're not all photogenic, but jesus christ, doesn't have to be a contest for dorkus of the year. he's not a bad looking dude, but you snap a pic of anyone whose really trying to nail a part on stage, and they aren't gonna look like a contender for the cover of rolling stone.

main offender

alright, someone forgot to protect their wireless with a password, so i'm actually writing this from the comfort of my own home. until someone wises up, i'm free to steal bandwidth to my heart's desire.

now, i gotta be honest. i'm not a fan of the swedish indie alt wankers the hives. tonight, however, i feel i've found a new respect for these pre-processed swedish meatballs.

as usual, i was randomly perusing through youtube clips, and stumbled upon this amazing little gem of the hives doing a covers medley which includes everything from the incomparable saul williams' song "list of demands" and swedish garage rockers the hellacopters "(gotta get some action) now!" to the white stripes "seven nation army" and three six mafia's "stay fly." everything about these douchers makes me wanna pour a beer on their head and kick a little mud on those fake alligator leather shoes they sport, but not until they launch into their own original music (that's 6m 31sec into the clip, though. make it that far, you've seen the best, pass on the rest).



does anyone remember when buddyhead used to be cool and actually talked about cool shit you could understand and could relate to (or at least laugh along with)? reading their latest gossip just seems like a string of inside jokes from the nin tour bus in netherfuckville, europe that no one gives two shits about, 'cept those fat goth girls that wanna get boned by aaron and need to trade in their multiple personality disorders for eating ones. in all reality, though, they're really just using aaron to get to travis.

for now, i'm gonna go back to listening to a bunch of rad black flag demos and watching pre-courtney kurt slay it on a bootleg copy of a nirvana show in austria circa 1989. FUCK YEAH!

i was a teenage hand model

i've been bad. not just bad, but negligent. i'm sorry to the two people that are reading this. i haven't updated. though my excuses are just that, merely excuses, i can only say what i've said before: i can and will change.

busy as i've been, i've still managed to find time to attempt skateboarding, join the population of mac users crash b-list hollywood parties, and meet cool people... all while working at my incredibly rad job at amoeba and wasting every last cent on cd's, 7"s and books on the doors. by the way, yep, i got to see paul mccartney play live at the "secret amoeba show." yep, i was three feet away from him during his entire set. yep, i got to witness his soundcheck. yep, i got paid. yep, it was awesome. yep, i'm gloating.

more and more recently, i'm working on experimenting with creating a podcast. yes, just another pop-culturally infused idea that will soon fizzle into obscurity once i find something else to keep me occupied for a few weeks. stay tuned for that shit!

some celebrity just walked into get coffee at the cafe i'm hanging out at on the next block down from where i live. i have no clue who it is. whatsoever. i think it's victoria beckham because there's about 5 MILLION papparazzi buzzing around, and she's got a british accent. and she really looks like she could've been a spice girl. this is especially great because i'm huddled over here in a corner, it's barely 9am, and i literally rolled ut of bed to come down here and steal bandwidth. if you see me in us weekly please feel free to laugh at my ugly mug looking even shittier sitting next to some hot chick.

and since it wouldn't be an entry without some youtube action and a few of my shitty recommendations:

the only "new" album i've been stoked on recently is the bad brains "build a nation" record. check that shit out, dr. know and the rest have still got it, way over 20 years later. no burn out or fade away here, dudes!

other than that, i've really just been in regression: literally (click to see which albums i'm listneing to). i find comfort in my bob dylan bootleg series, the cream box set (ginger baker knew how to go off!), nick cave, black flag, the talking heads, and my bloody valentine. doesn't get much better than this.

being one of the few people left on the planet who actually still buys records and keeps them (is it weird i find comfort in seeing my 500+ collection all lined up on a shelf just waiting to be listened to?), i am continually finding tons of shit i feel the "need" to buy. i have literally cancelled plans because i wanted to have a listen at the original black sabbath box set i bought earlier in the day. fuck, dudes are right. i am weird.

watch this:



anyyyyyyway, as anti-pro-creation as i am, i really these two would've delivered the ultimate duet... a kid. totally would've oozed talent. or been completely useless. wait, it wouldn't have been american, so i'm gonna go with the former... unfortunately, rumour has it that the only biological present that nick the stripper ever gave the lovely polly jean was herpes. moral of the story: don't do dudes in bands, or you'll wind up getting some nasty shit. doesn't matter how cool they are.

long time gone

so, i've been gone and busy. which is why i haven't updated.

i just moved to hollywood proper, and i finally got a new job. yeah, i work at amoeba. no, i can't get you cool shit for cheap. unless i like you. which i probably don't. whatever.

i've been spending all my money on music, nothing new there. seriously. lucky my new place is a hovel that allows me to afford such luxuries.

on another note, i'm bummed that sea level is closing. fuck echo park and the silverlake scene, btw.

how stoked am i that queens of the stone age are playing with eagles of death metal and the duke spirit? jesus christ, it's like a train of multiple orgasms. i'll tell you: REALLY FUCKING STOKED.

more later.

i'm not crying, it's just been raining... on my face

lately this blog has been little more than me talking about lamely funny movies and east indian interpretations of popular singers and bands. i realize this is totally lame and probably only entertaining to me and maybe a few of my good friends. all 2 of them.

so, to break the stride, i've decided to bring it all back home by... posting about this awesome tv show i just saw: flight of the conchords.

yeah, seriously. but it's different this time! i swear. this one is actually about "the trials and tribulations of a two-man, New Zealand digi-folk band as they make their way in New York City." see? it's about music! kinda. whatever. i've got nothin' new to say. everyone knows i'm only listening to bob dylan right now, anyway.

as most of you (and by most, i mean a select few) know, i lived in new zealand in 2004 and did a bunch of cool shit. while there, i developed a great love for new zealand bands, films and culture in general.

so when i heard about the new hbo show "flight of the conchords" that stars jemaine clement and bret mckenzie, two new zealand "celebs" that i came to know and love during my stay down under, i naturally had to tune in and see if down was the new up. check it out:





binary solo! be sure to check out the full length episode here. it premieres june 17th. anyone got hbo and wanna tune in and invite me over?

and to those wondering about my futurama adventure, unfortunately, i can't talk about it, as i was sworn to secrecy by fucks, er, i mean fox since the last of the episodes won't be airing until 2009. all i can say is matt groening, you rule.

and yes, billy west, you and your voicing talents did contribute to a large portion of the reason why i turned out to be a completely corrupted product of the 90s. thanks again, dude!