[Record Crate] Don't Make it Suck

In his column in the most recent issue of 225 magazine, Julio Melara mentioned a trip he made to Richmond, Va., to see what makes that city tick, particularly how it keeps its young creative minds in the area. As one of those creative people who left Baton Rouge and came back, I offer this solution: Don't make it suck to live here.

There have been a couple close shaves to our cultural landscape, namely arts funding and the licensing woes at Chelsea's. Those critical of the biased outcries to maintain these institutions have a valid point: There are bigger problems in the world than the closing of a bar or a couple of art shows.

But those doing the protesting are precisely the population our city is looking to cultivate. I was talking with a friend at a post-Jazz Fest dinner at Delachaise, and the subject turned to what makes a city great. He said, "All New Orleans has going for it is charm. Without charm, the whole thing would fall apart."

On that late-night drive on I-10 back home, one I've made more times than I can count, I asked myself, "What does Baton Rouge have going for it?"

What we have is opportunity. We are quick to embrace things. We are hingey for things to embrace. Just as New Orleans exploits its charm, we need to exploit our opportunities. Do something. Check things out. Support the arts with your presence and participation.

And for those who for whatever reason are disinterested in culture and the wants of creative people, stay out of their way. I'm not asking you to become a latte-sipping liberal or a bike-riding hippie or anything. I'm not proposing some kind of "Keep Austin Weird" concept; this is not Austin and you have been quite clear on your stance against weird.

I'm asking you to look at what downtown Baton Rouge was like at night 10 years ago, or what the dining prospects on Sherwood Forest Boulevard were like then compared to now. I'm just asking that you help keep up that momentum or at least don't hinder it. Don't make it suck to live here. That's all.

And while I'm asking for things: Somebody please open a really good French bakery here. The revolution will be fueled on fresh baguettes.

Wednesday, May 6

Lucero at Spanish Moon

Drake at The Varsity

Thursday, May 7

Justin Hilbun and Kristen Diable at Chelsea's

Red Jumpsuit Apparatus and Framing Hanley at The Varsity

Research Turtles at North Gate Tavern

Friday, May 8

Slaid Cleaves at the Red Dragon

Blue Mountain at Chelsea's

Robert Earl Keen at The Varsity

Barghest, The Roller, Green and Wood, and Panthalassa (early show) at North Gate Tavern

Gregg Wright at Phil Brady's

The Circuitbreakers at Teddy's Juke Joint

Saturday, May 9

Kevin Devine, Sarah Jaffe, Miniature Tigers, Brian Bonz & the Dot

Hongs at Spanish Moon

6 Pack Deep at Chelsea's

Theory of a Deadman at The Varsity

Sky Chief at North Gate Tavern

Gregg Wright at Phil Brady's

Big Daddy Blue at Teddy's Juke Joint

Sunday, May 10

Bex Marshall and Selwyn Cooper at Teddy's Juke Joint

Link to original

bring my car I feel to smash it

Trans Am - Future World
The Sea and Cake - s/t
Talk Talk - Spirit of Eden (listen)

it's time the tale of Peter Bruntnell were told

Man, Peter Bruntnell, is so good. His head pokes up out of a crowd of semi-Americana-from-England singer-songwriter types. I am still all about his phenomenal 1999 record Normal for Bridgewater (listen) after hearing about it through the least hip possible channel, a "Who's the new James Taylor" roundup on CBS Sunday Morning which also included Wilco and someone already forgotten. I still catch myself humming strains of this record a lifetime later.

N.f.b. - Peter Bruntnell

Power pop purists will embrace his sonic dynamics, harmony addicts will compare it to something outdated and boring, alt.country archivists will put it on the stack of names, and those who like music for its intrinsic capacity for releasing beauty into the air like an atomizer will bob their heads. It's good to see that he is still at it. (listen to Peter and the Murder of Crows, circa 2008)

Domestico - Peter Bruntnell

He's done one of the better Smiths' covers in recent memory as a b-side to the lead single. It's the bee's knees.

Reel Around The Fountain - Pet...

spark maintenance

Perhaps I only had to express doubts about this exercise to make such incredible music to pop up and set me straight. Eddy Current Suppression Ring's Primary Colours is one of the best punk records, in the Buzzcocks, Jam, Modern Lovers, pre-hardcore-sense-of-punk, I have heard in ages and ages. (via OngakuBaka) I wondered what, besides the Obama campaign, was the point of 2008 and now I know it was to be the bracket of time in which this spindly, bouncy, effervescent, biting record could be crafted. I am so into this record that I don't want to play anything after it, fearful that the spell might get broken.

Patterson Hood's excellent second solo album Murdering Oscar (and other love songs) is a safe bet for maintaining the spark in the air. It's not a DBT record diluted, a lone shell fired from a shotgun built for two, but its own related thing. More on this later. Available to mortals in late June.

I stopped by a friends' studio over lunch to chew the fat about Jazzfest, and he thrust Poisonville by Ronny Elliott into my hands and ears (listen). Hillbilly genius drunk rock from a guy who has been that since 1964, playing with everyone imaginable. he sounds a lot like Mike Cooley, P-Hoods's partner in Drive By Truckers. His song "Burn, Burn, Burn" is the shit.

Burn, Burn, Burn - Ronny Ellio...

"Total Destruction to Your Mind" by Swamp Dogg is one of the coolest songs ever. From the somewhat hyperbolic promise implied in the title The Excellent Sides of Swamp Dogg Vol. 1 (listen). There are more hits than misses, but let's not get crazy. "Total Destruction" however, exceeds all levels of praise offered.

Total Destruction to Your Mind...

Were I not in such a buoyant mood, Marvin Gaye's divorce odyssey Here , My Dear would be excruciating, like hearing a friend go on for far too long about their partner. It strikes me now as hilarious in its blatant self-righteousness and hostility, like a SNL skit done right. (listen)

Anger - Marvin Gaye

but even this mess ends in a Funky Space Reincarnation. Means to an end.

A Funky Space Reincarnation - ...

perfect bedfellows

Dean Wareham of Luna/Galaxie 500 writing soundtracks for Warhol screen tests tickles every single one of my pleasure sensors. Behold!




More info at the Plexifilm page.

Also I am not an enormous fan of either Sparklehorse or Danger Mouse, and am on the fence about David Lynch, to be honest, but in combining their forces, something rather beautiful occurs. (Listen at the Chrysalis Music blog) or bear witness to the anti-trailer below.



More info on this over at Pitchfork.

given enough rope

I wrote something for the long back-burnered book project that involved an in-joke about this most oppressive record by Swans and pulling myself across the floor of my house with a rope. I'm into it.

I also wrote a review of Inside Your Guitar the lovely new album by the terribly named band It Hugs Back, which will appear on these pages as soon as it released to the web. (listen) and one for the Horrors' Primary Colours, also appearing shortly under similar circumstances. (listen)

Also, this Mogwai performance from a few days ago. (via NYCTaper). And whatever that cursed commercial is with that certain omnipresent Moody Blues song and the jellyfish has been running in a loop in my head... at least it is time-appropriate. I'd forgotten how much I like the evening time to get away part at the end of this song. (listen)

I've also been weighing how deeply my heart is into this semi-maniacal documentation of my listening habits. I'm still doing it, so I guess it is still there, but I'm considering a mutation in how I do it. I did change the blog layout recently, and that has tidied things up a bit, but every cleaning session always reveals another mess. Considered yourself theoretically forewarned.

Review of Cocaine Nights by J. G. Ballard

Cocaine Nights by J.G. Ballard

My review

rating: 3 of 5 stars
I was not expecting a detective mystery, what with the titular title and Ballard's notoriety for depicting transgression. I read Crash and The Atrocity Exhibition back in college during my Burroughs phase and found them both a little dry for my tastes. I thought the same of this book and almost put it down, but I read the first chapter of his excellent 1962 sci-fi novel The Drowned World and found shocking similarities in this book written thirty years later. Both deal with persistence of human mundanity despite exaggerated locales: the older book deals with a flooded world where survivors live in the top floors of hotels above the water line whereas this depicts the idle rich spiraling into base impulses while on permanent vacation in Spanish resort communities.

In each, the environment adapts it's inhabitants only to be viewed by a curious observer. Ballard is saying man makes the environment/social order and that in turn makes the man, creating feedback loop that consumes everything. This book was not exactly a page turner, but I was compelled to see if the protagonist transcends the soup in which he swims or if he gets sucked under. How any of us survive the world we live in the real mystery.


View all my reviews.