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I Wuz Suicidal Cuz You Wuz My Idol

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

A couple-day old preview at Nah Right of two Graduation songs. The Jay tribute sounds great, but I’m most excited about “Champion,” which samples Donald Fagen’s mordant encomium to a burned-out druggie from “Kid Charlemagne,” and, like so many rap songs do, turn it positive. Which, by the way, is great.

Okay, quick tangent re: Larry Carlton’s wicked sweet guitar solo on the original version of that song. Here’s one dude going after it—get it, man. This guy does better, but by cheating, sort of. Not only by playing the song along with the recording, but also by looking like he works at GuitarWorld. Now that I think about it, how great would it be to start a Web show, America’s Got Talent-style, but devoted to dudes ripping off classic solos? Pretty fucking great is what. Oh shit, here’s a dude who nails it.

Elsewhere, Tom documents how 50 Cent is proving that he’ll become hip-hop’s John Thor (see below). And by that I really mean “scheming, insecure homophobe” instead of “deluded musclehead.” Remember when he at least used to be charming? Kanye’s already “won” on like every count possible.

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Bodies of Water “It is Familiar”
(mp3) At first, it was easy to dismiss this band for its most telling reference points: Polyphonic Spree and all that chanty pseudo-religious stuff that I can dig when it comes from Danielson, but not too much otherwise. I put the disc on and actually groaned for a minute; “awww, man! This stuff again?!” Then I note the creepy, stained photo on its cover and the fact that the band’s from California, and I sink into a different reference point: the band as a Manson-esque long-lost mini-cult who’d offed themselves a couple decades back, leaving only a few band pics and some shouty, white-gospel recordings. Strange and creepy as it seems, that made the Kool-Aid go down a lot easier. (2007 | buy)


Old Time Relijun “Daemon Meeting” (mp3) It’s probably my recent personal Captain Beefheart renaissance, but the forthcoming Catharsis in Crisis is hitting all the right bent notes. Despite its familiar-seeming title, this particular song doesn’t have as much to do with this as it does this. Although a case could certainly be made that the former, that baleful neologism given to those electronic mails sent to non-existent addresses and violently bounced back to the typist, has more than a bit of overlap with the mise-en-scene of the latter meaning, or at least how it’s portrayed in this song. “Set out the chairs and the Styrofoam cups” in the boardroom, as the daemons gather for a meeting to discuss what in fact it means to be human. Only, however, to return an hour later to their individual cubicles, to login to Outlook and find that expelled member of their circle waiting for them yet again. (2007, K Records)

St. Vincent Jesus Saves, I Spend(mp3) On the notes to a recent 2007 mix, I reveled in the recent gy-tar wave to hit indie’s shores, yet failed to mention Annie Clark, who can shred like Marnie and make a muted mesh like Charlotte, something I discovered and reveled in for this. She played in one of Glenn Branca’s monster axe-ensembles, and shares her uncle’s predilection for cultivated (and at times, a bit sterile) fretwork. And she’s wry, too. I interviewed her for here, and we ended up chatting about grits, Prodigy and, best of all “Killer Queen”, the best Queen song, which she loves because, among other things, of its over-the-top tongue-in-cheek(ness). That sort of approach permeates “Jesus Saves, I Spend,” the verb-based punniness of which still reminds me of a bumper-sticker I once saw that read “Jesus is Coming. Look Busy,” and the background vocals of which still remind me of “Mr. Sandman.” (Marry Me, Beggars Banquet, 2007 | buy)

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Like most online tributes to Merv Griffin, the one at the ew.com blog doesn’t really have anything to do with the man himself, but with the parties he threw, and the total weirdos he often showcased. The clip (see below) they posted as accompaniment, however, has me absolutely mesmerized. It’s the sort of thing (his name is Thor, ladies) that would make a great scene in a Paul Thomas Anderson film about Las Vegas: severe amounts of delusion coupled with striking physical irregularity and nothing even remotely resembling modesty. It’s like watching a Chippendale Thundercat audition for Castle Greyskull’s version of Evening at the Apollo. Pump it:

More great Merv at WFMU.

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