stupid computers

The 2010 Oxford American Music Issue, an actual magazine made of spirit and ink and shiny paper,  is now available for pre-order. I have a piece in it, but even I haven't seen the actual whole thing and I'm still excited about it, just from the sparse Blue Note style cover. I actually don't even know if that is the final cover design; I'm excited about the possible placeholder for the cover! Get excited with me!

The Halo Benders, The Rebel's Not In
Jonathan Richman, O Moon, Queen of Night on Earth
Tom Franklin, Smonk 
Chris Brokaw, VDQQ:Solo Acousitc Volume 3


I'm rather fond of the Newspeak CD. I love this music student band thing.


Newspeak, David T. Little's "sweet light crude"

Calvin Johnson's detuned honk of a voice usually kills the charm of his 1000 bands for me after a couple songs, but his subwoofer patter on The Rebel's Not In is the sound the cheery porpoise's make as they push the surfboard of the sleeping Dick van Dyke that is my weary heart back safely to shore. This album churns through with surprising mechanistic precision, like a giant machine made out of eager teenagers united in sinister purpose, like the success of Senior Skip-Out day rests solely on the coordination of their efforts.


"Devil City Destiny"

I keep thinking I'm ready to ask the Lord to deliver me from Smonk's raptor clutch and then something happens like the whore Evavangeline turns 'round to see all them orphans in the woods and I'm hooked all over again. So instead I will appeal the deaf Lord to let me lick every wound in the book and watch every effortless-as-a-tumbleweed sentence trundle by. I'm sure the Lord is too busy for requests like this.

And Jonathan Richman does just that one thing, like an motor component for a model long discontinued and he does it so perfectly and succinct then there is no sense in upgrading or retooling or anything. This new album of his is a timeless treasure. Instead of going digital, I half expect his next release to be a whispered love note in a seashell, wrapped up in Christmas paper and set out on card tables in front of every closed record store.


Jonathan Richman, "O Moon, Queen of Night on Earth"

By the way, Baton Rougeans, the Compact Disc Store on Jefferson, one of the last one record stores standing is closing soon-ish and word is everything is on sale so get to it. Thanks go to Brad Pope for hanging onto the place all these years while we ruin everything with our stupid computers.

There's a good little article in Blurt about Chris Brokaw, a friend of a friend with whom I had lunch and politely disagreed over Michael McDonald. Shut up, I get that you all love fucking Michael McDonald and I bequeath my allocated portion of him to you, OK? Anyway, Chris Brokaw's albums are tight, understated, majestic.