indie pop binger
I may be afflicted and/or blessed with harmonic-interval synesthesia
I must share a couple of items regarding the legacy of Prince Rogers Nelson, an artist who defied expected norms in his musical works and gender expression.
I’m very happy from somebody from another planet came and shared his music with us.” — Grecko.
Every-other Thursday’s WMBR Breakfast of Champions DJ, Abby Lyda, has been treating listeners with expert bin-diving finds, recalling the exemplary talents of a former Thursday stalwart, Keith Sawyer.
Firstly, Abby cited artists like Low Cut Connie and Emmit Rhodes
I’m also comforted anyone under 25 years old knows, for example, the early works of Todd Rundgren.
Our hero, a diction coach, describes a scenario wherein an aroused clergyman crashed into a house he built:
Erect Rector Erector
Wrecks Rectory
I’m sorry this is a sad post. I wish things were different.
I believe the “golden age” of Internet search is a thing of the past and it’s utility is suspect. Even the most “we’re not evil” search engine is inferring semantics from search terms. I get it – it’s what most people want: figure out what I’m asking.
That’s mostly fine.
Alas, now if I enclose the search terms in quotes, which was once a sacrosanct feature of using Google et al, wherein I would be shown all of the locations that literal text existed on the Internet – all 90 pages of results, instead I’m now led to believe there’s never been anything anywhere on the internet that ever had those two words concatenated.
I can’t fathom the utility of what Google serves up in their results:
How did we get here? This once immensely powerful and valuable utility is incapable of acting as a tool with explicit constraints and instead beholden to masters unnamed.
Cory Doctorow has a fairly informed notion having kept track for a few decades.
You’re paying Joe Rogan $350M USD.
There is no scenario in which this helps.
Is this the first full measure dead drop in rock at 2:38 into Badfinger’s No Matter What from 1970?
Please tell me all the things you find prior!
The break-out 1988 single by The La’s, There She Goes , has no verses.
It’s all choruses. Four of them.
It was remixed by Steve Lillywhite in 1990 and Noel Gallagher said it was his favorite song from the 1990s. On “All Songs Considered”, Ben Gibbard picked it as a “perfect” song.
Play the splendid cover by the phenomenal Hazel English.
I hadn’t seen much video of Smashing Pumpkins live, but this little unplugged clip impressed me. Great ensemble playing – so much more than just Billy Corgan.
Nobody has in-ear monitors. Recorded live at Tower Records in 1993. The sound is absolutely gorgeous. I wish there was more of Jimmy Chamberlin in the video.
The last verse and the outro.
And I’m so happy it isn’t.
Industrial streaming of art is choke-point capitalism.
I was only vaguely aware of Joan Didion because of my dearest friend’s infatuation with D. A. Ortberg’s scatalogical YouTube impressions of imagined conversations between Didion and Anna Wintour.
That changed upon hearing Susan Stamberg’s 7 minute eulogy on NPR when Didion passed last month. I was moved to dive into Didion, consuming first her nephew’s summary of her cultural/political acuity.
I’ve come to realize Didion’s “fiction” was only slightly divorced from reality and so many expressions in her work were cultural and political sentries.
She was among a few people acting as a canary in the coal mine throughtout her writing carrier .
Hilton Als noted “She knew that her country was built on exclusion and shame“
unhillbilly 