GRINDERMAN is Nick Cave's new band, which is basically the same line-up as the Bad Seeds, but with more of a loud-and-scary-as-fuck sound like the Birthday Party. Play at maximum volume.

LES RALLIZES DENUDES- LIVE 1972
speaking of loud and scary, LRD have been doing it for 40 years in the murky depths of the Japanese underground. Without them there would be no High Rise, Acid Mothers Temple, Boris, Keiji Haino, etc. Yes, they rule. This show has limitations (as in it was recorded by some guy with a tape deck) but it's still pretty killer and makes "The Legendary Guitar Amp Tapes" sound tame.

"that wolf eyes shit is bananas" -anthony braxton

Wolf Eyes & Anthony Braxton Live in Victoriaville

Prefuse 73-Preparations

Beirut-The Flying Club Cup

I am in Ohio. It's been both refreshing and a bit difficult. However, I've managed to push aside my anxieties for the moment. Thank you Harp. Thank you Leinenkugel. Thank you tequila sunrise that tasted like chalk.

I want to make sex with every guy in this town. It's sick how much I missed American men. Especially straight men.

if anyone was interested in the japanese erotic record posted earlier, you might want to check out different waters, who has a bunch of reissues of rare pink records from the seventies. and be sure to check out the meiko kaji record, she is a badass femme who will kick your ass.

Silvester Anfang- Kosmies Slachtafval

a brand new disc from Belgium's premier satanic cult/funeral folk ensemble, trading in their acoustic instruments for electric guitars and keyboards to create some evil sludgey jams that are up there with warmer Milks' "Radish on Light" for creepiest record of the year. dig it.

The Black Lips-Good Bad Not Evil

Sunset Rubdown-Random Spirit Lover

Sally Shapiro-Disco Romance

For around a year now I've been having these sporadic disagreements with my cigarette addiction. It's been happening more or less in a two to three day cycle. And, as is the case for most people my age who smoke, it's inextricably linked to my drinking habit. Usually after the second or third day of drowning my hangover in alcohol I'm ready to take a day or two off of everything. So I'm in the middle of that right now. It's especially fantastic as we've arrived in our Parisian flat on the 15th floor of probably one of the most hideous buildings on the face of the planet, in a section of town that is probably one of the tackiest urban areas on the face of the planet. I'm not exaggerating. The flat is owned by a friend of a friend's family and the organizing of our stay was more than a little complicated, especially considering the French tendency to leave out many important details whenever brokering anything more involved than a handshake. Such as directions to the building after we got off the metro or the fact that we would have to negotiate the key out of the tyrannical hands of reception once we arrived. The people who was generous enough to lend us the flat are a family of rich Iranians who fled to Paris in the late 70's at the start of the Iranian Revolution. Apparently they decided to bring their taste in grotesque home furnishings with them, as the entire flat is decorated in Louis XVII factory knock-offs with dusty moth eaten slip-covers half draped over them. There are about a
million individually framed, faded photos of the family, the overwhelming majority of which no one is smiling in. And in the living room is prominently displayed a gigantic portrait of who I can only assume was/is the matriarchal head of the household. The view is even better. It's like living in an Air video or those old stock films of the gangster era Las Vegas strip right before the casinos are all imploded. No one actually lives here. All the kids are grown up and the parents, or at least the mother, spends most of her time in Iran. So for the next three days I'm hiding away in the part of Paris everyone has forgotten about. I hope they don't decide to demolish this beautiful, ancient monstrosity while I'm inside.








Eric Copeland-Hermaphrodite




Eric Copeland is a member of Black Dice and Terrestrial Tones. Hermaphrodite is his first solo recording and precedes the new Black Dice record, Load Blown, which comes out in October. There are some familiar themes inside of Hermaphrodite. It overflows with the same textural emphasis and expresses the same penchant for Terry Riley style repetition I've been hearing from more than one direction so far this year. However, rather than wearing it emblazoned on its sleeve, Hermaphrodite's appeal is in its subtle, more intimate references. Sort of like a diary entry of referneces.

Don't get it twisted. I'm not suggesting that Hermaphrodite is even as contemplative as a Black Dice record. On the whole, this music is downright celebratory, yet another parallel to the work of Mr. Copeland's peers.

In the next couple of days I will attempt to catch up on the blog. Things have been absolutely insane and exhilarating. I've always been, for the most part, comfortable with my decision to forego higher education and focus on my music for awhile. But I've never been so confident about that decision. This has been hands down the most rewarding and amazing experience of my entire life. I can't wait to share all the juicy details with you.










M.I.A.-Kala




Until then, listen to this. Not much I need to say to sell this one I'm sure. I won't say just it's my favorite release of the year just yet. But I have already probably listened to Kala as much as Person Pitch when it leaked.

som imaginario 1971
the second self titled album from one of brazil's weirdest bands. nothing quite as killer as "morse", but still equal to their first s/t. check it.