OH THAT? That’s just the other book I’m using to cover Eat Pray Love whilst in public. [cool it, it’s for research.]
UPDATE: further into it; contemplating learning Italian and taking up meditation.
Some guy called my radio show yesterday and requested Fugazi but I played my favorite jam of the summer instead. Keep the faith// kill the light. UHHHH YEAH I WILL.
I wish there was a video that’s super sunset-tinged with long eyelashes and sunglasses and almost make-outs but you can imagine that while you listen to this:
Now that its Fall, summer’s electro-pop’d neck snapping gives way to Autumnal basement dwelling and I give up on leaving the house for six months and settle in with The Band, The Freewheeling Bob Dylan and Niño Rojo. Over at the station, I was rifling thru the stacks prepping for this week’s show and happened upon some GEMS. Deep in the crevasses of music history and the station’s sixty year old collection of wax lies LAW (above) sometimes known as The Lawson 5. From Youngstown, Ohio, a veritable hotbed of erstwhile rust-belt genius RAWK (rust-belt-core?), the band’s website proclaims:
From the 1950s through the late 1970s few areas of the country boasted a more dynamic or more exciting popular music scene than Northeast Ohio and Southwest Pennsylvania. The entire Steel Valley between Cleveland and Pittsburgh teemed with brilliant talent, great bands, and hundreds of clubs and concert venues for music fans of all ages. Many of the rock era’s most celebrated musicians spent their formative years in this area.
(Next week’s topic: is a nation-wide exodus of this country’s young creatives to five or so coastal cities a new indicator of American cultural poverty or are such cycles natural: today’s San Fransisco is tomorrow’s Cleveland? Discuss.)
I pulled out their 1977 cut Breakin’ It, because puns in classic rock are criminally underused. A track entitled “Be My Woman (Be My Friend)” caught my eye because I am one large weak spot for such sentiments, especially when pronounced by shirtless long-haired dudes. It spun through the airwaves to all both of my listeners who were no doubt FLOORED by such a magical, Romantic and pure iteration of love, partnership and a truly modern&progressive imagining of that whole matrix. “It’s the 20th century! Neither one of us necessarily has to till the fields while the other one makes porridge with the kids! Let’s be friends!” with horns and stuff (Before we say we’re in love/ we both already know). I might have to ditch the Eagles in favor of these guys at my commitment ceremony after-rager. Not a peep from the band exists on teh youtube but you can listen here.
Every student of pop music will get bludgeoned in the cranium with decades of boring love songs that are about a) being in love with someone and it’s going to like, last forever or b) being in unrequited love that makes the singer want to supposedly kill themselves. I say go for it, I’m bored out of my skull. This is perhaps why Law’s track somehow seems novel even thirty-five years after its release, and why another, newer jam really worked its way into my hardened ears last spring (or around there, who can keep track of real time anymore; we have the internet):
“I don’t wanna own him or control him/ I just want our souls to be aligned.” Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. Plus homegirl is a serious super babe. Respect. Friends released their full-length debut Manifest! in June, and the flip-side of the aforementioned transcendent union is the album’s other standout, “Home”. There’s no video, but can you listen here.
Peace, love and Death 2 FM lite*
*excluding the Eagles who I don’t even care, desert/peyote/leather vests, are fabulous.
me: wait should I get morally vacant and spiritually dead tatted on my thigh?
kelly: the answer is YES
thigh tatts are so hot forever
me: totally doing it.
also just watched an ESPN docu on pablo escobar and the colombian national soccer team of the early nineties
first of all, cried
drugs are a bad idea, officially.
mostly because colombian babies are lying in the streets for our noses
which is really unsettling
holy shit, colombian drug cartels
they like ran the country for real
as in owning the police force and whatnot
and then killed their star player
after the team failed to advance in the world cup
kelly: ok holy shit knowledge drop
i feel like
you should give me your mom’s netflix login so we can be in a digital bookclub
kelly: and i can have knowledge
me: I DIED.
kelly: i guess it’s like 7$/month
i’m making coffee right now, also?
and bout to collage for Thrashin’
me: espn’s 30 for 30 series is s0000 intense
you JUST SAID THAT
me: sports are like really a metaphor for the human experience, kind of
or the modern human experience
kelly: ohhhhh yeah
me: plus, nationalism!!
kelly: watching a player’s career as the arc of a human life
drama (trades, fights)
me: i cried during the one about the Gretzky trade too
i need to retire from netflix
but it goes really well with embroidery, you know?
kelly: uh YEAH IT DOES
that’s why i need it for cut/paste
me: also check out this artist’s website!
shes kind of a baller
her “paintings” are mostly embroidery
i was like HOLY FUCK
also shes Egyptian but a lot of her subject matter deals with explicit imagery
kelly: damn that’s awesome
me: AH look at this one
its refreshing to see a successful contemporary artist that doesn’t blow
kelly: yeah no shit
also it’s time to learn another language probs
and get an EU citizenship, defs
i am speaking the bored language of mortals // americans
want 2 speak teh dark tongue of bears
me: wait have you seen batman yet?
kelly: god dammit no
supposed to go on a date with a bro to see it, so.
i kinda feel like my response to a bro letting me slip through his fingers is always something along the lines of “you’re gonna regret this”
me: the best way to go about it, of course.
also, i am legitimately pissed about miley cyrus’ new haircut. As in the one she STOLE FROM ME
kelly: also, who//what is she?
called her as a hologram in ’09, world
me: i kind of h8 everyone who would identify in her peer level
kelly: i kind of h8 anyone that earnestly identifies with any celebrity
like people commenting on kim kardashian’s instagram photos
so many levels of ew
“oh that? that’s me being embarrassed for you”
me: at least they’re all miserable people, so that makes me feel better
kelly: it’s like playing along with kids about santa
like, alright, you believe that huh?
i guess you’re entitled?
and that makes you happy
but i can’t believe you haven’t figured this shit out yet
yr life is the party
FIRST OF ALL, 1984 is officially WAAY better than right now. Is there a better song, in form or content? [no] Also, your summer wardrobe is leather pants and no shirt or we’re not friends. Finally, Freddie. whatta fuckin Human. Sheer transcendent power poured into some skin, seamed up with a mustache.