I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream.
I saw Max Fischer on 1st in-between 8th and 9th one night, and yeah he can't be any taller than three feet. At any rate, I muttered "Hey look, that's Jason Schwartzman..." to a friend, who proceeded to shamelessly yell out "Jason!". He turned back, giving us a headnod and grinning wave. We laughed. Then my friend asked, "Hahaha...who the fuck is Jason Schwartzman?"
I was glad I stuck around for the Violators, despite their two hour lateness, an arrivla that was met with scathing protest from the remaining crowd. Vile was able to conjure soundwaves from the guitar that I wasn’t aware existed. Off-kilter chord configurations, ferocious down strum configurations, lyrical poignancy, a real treat. That along with the blistering guitar runs, steady timpani and sonic noise wails inexplicably landed on some intangible noise maelstrom that was listenable and pleasantly pretty.
The preceding acts who performed at the cavernous venue that is The Shank were also gemlike groups of musicians. I came for Woods, the low-fi folk psych pop band that has devised a secret way to compose fairly incredible songs. They were able to hypnotize the jaded crowd (almost exclusively under 24) with their mesmerizing fuzz-soaked tunes. Lucas Crane’s pedal board ear-phoned cross-fading cassette sound contraption was truly something else, and was worthy of more visibility. And vocals were performed sincerely on wired microphone tweaked by reverberating effect. Grooms followed, and their noise melody core possessed glimmers of brilliance—guitar twinkles hidden beneath blankets of feedback and heavy percussive hammerings. Then Blues Explosion performed their electronic bombardments, rocked out and made noise that somehow translated into brief shimmers of chordal feeling. On top of that, the Colt 45 wielding bartender selected vintage R&B gems from the 50s and 60s between sets that were wisely selected and kept things moving. By the end of the night we were pouring sweat, dodging residents of the space who shooed smokers away from the building’s exterior for fear that “the cops will shut us down”. Oh yeah, and I did notice you and man I too wondered what the fuck you were doing there, but it’s great to see you’re still out there and doing a good job. Looking forward to reading your talks with Woods and Vile.
Salinger--still alive? A lot of people don't know that. I guess thats because he is confined to a cabin in vermont or something But yeah, he's being a dick. Totally hypocritical of him to have this reclusive/better-than-the-world attitude and at the same time be self-conscious about his image. I'd be pissed too, though, the book he's suing obviously blows. I wouldn't want some asshole butchering my stuff either. JD's a nut, but it's understandable--every spoiled brat in every boarding school in the modern world not only reads that book but latches onto it in a really lame way. That must really freak him out. It would be really great, though, if he was forced to come out from his hole for a court date. I can see him now, age 90, in front of the court house telling giddy reporters to "get that fucking camera out of my face."
Looks exquisite. This was really pleasant to watch, especially with the accompanying music--by the way, what was that? The follow shot truly is the oldest trick in the book, and I think you'd be hard pressed to find a movie that doesn't have at least one usage of it. Your choices were wise and entertaining; I especially appreciated the inclusion of that scene from Die Hard. Seriously, the compilation would be utterly incomplete without that shot of chain-saw-wielding blonde pony-tailed terrorist.
You're right; Favre is truly fucking up. Don't let anyone in Green Bay, Wisconsin hear you say that though--they live for that shit, there's not much else to do over there, I guess.
Is he crying in that picture? If Tom Hanks says there's no crying in mid-20th century women's baseball, then there's seriously no crying in the NFL. And weeping is non-salvageable. Couldn't you have run into a bathroom or something? If my 5th grade modified football coach saw me cry in 5th grade, he would have made me run laps.
And as for his shitting on the Packers--what are you some kind of asshole? The whole state adores you. More than that, you're literally a saint to an entire geographic region of people. That's just low, lower than low. You're probably right in thinking that he's gone off the deep end--too many concussions have likely driven this guy batshit crazy.
That Black Eyed Peas song is a little heavy handed, don't you think?--they're reaching for a summer jam. That's not how it works guys, summer jams can't be designed, they just happen randomly. That Sean Kingston song from a couple summers ago is a good example--where the fuck did that come from? Besides, Fergie gets a little carried away on this one. "People in the puh-lace!" Haha, give it a rest. And Sean Kingston, what are you a techno-singer now? You're right, Mike, this is dissapointing. What happened to the masochistic-doo-wop-reggae-pop you championed?. You could have won a grammy, what are you thinking? And Pitbull, that's not even funny-bad, I'm just embarrased for you. The Beyonce thing is way too serious to ever qualify for a real summer jam, and that Charise thing is truly frightening.
How could you guys forget the song with real potential to be Summer Jam '09?--Jadakiss: "Who's Real?"
"He's phony, she's fake," he raps, "that's the type of people I hate!"
Jadakiss is the Holden Caulfield of rap, apparently.
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