Slumming with the mermaid at Storyland.
Protestant Music, The Car
Vincent Gallo, When
The Brian Jonestown Massacre, Strung Out in Heaven
Robyn Hitchcock, Jewels for Sophia
Richard Buckner, Since
- My fastest review turnaround ever on Protestant Music: saw CD-R on counter at coffee shop, immediately walked to office and listened/wrote review while emailing dude I was doing so, sent it in and then now linking back to it online. My coffee was still warm. It was like bending time to my will. Also in this week's Record Crate for 225: Big Business, Greg Jacobs, WHYR.
- An on-the-busy-side day at the office with spates of rage-corralling and goal-assessment + drizzly weather + one more cup of coffee than usual has put me right in a Seattle 1998 - Kansas City 2000 mood and with the exception of the aforementioned Protestant Music, the above was my soundtrack.
- Robyn Hitchcock lays it all out in his spilt-jigsaw-in-the-day-room manner.
Robyn Hitchcock, "Viva! Sea-Tac"
- If I could, I would add in Arab Strap's Elephant Shoe, but it's off the digital radar. Too bad; it is such an exquisite little cyanide capsule of a record.
Arab Strap, "Cherubs".
The building I worked in had this huge atrium with a massive bay of windows and a dramatic curving staircase, and I had a little pre-iPod mp3 player so glitchy it would take me most of the afternoon to load Elephant Shoe on it, and then once I did, I'd coat up and descend that staircase and take in the shock of falling snow and let my heart come apace with cherubs and trudge out into the cold for a while, sometimes just walk around the building but once this album took me on a two-hour hike through an ice storm, every little branch was a popsicle stick stuck into a test tube of ice, branches slicing right off the bodies of trees, cars skidding immediately out of their driver's coaxing - I saw one woman take her mittened hands off the wheel and shrug as she slid by. There was a little hippie coffee shop just out of reasonable walking distance and I'd go there and order the only cappuccino they'd make all day and read a book like a pre-forgiven coffee shop asshole and muse the air I breathed until I my own protestant inclinations would bubble up and I'd take on the snow and slump back up the stairs and at my desk be found.
- Oh, shit! "Drug Song for Paula!" This was the song! Still is!
Arab Strap, "Drug Song For Paula"