My favorite song (that I never listen to): Part 1 of an ongoing series.

The Orb - "Toxygene"

I love the iTunes Genius playlist feature. I've pulled most of the music off of my main iPhone playlist and replaced it with about 30 different Genius lists, all of which end up being better mixes than anything I have time to put together. It's revolutionized my listening habits; not only does it scratch my ongoing nostalgia itch, but it also makes links between songs that would have been second-nature to me 10 years ago, before I started focusing more on work and marriage and all of those other alleged "grown-up" things we're supposed to invest in, all in handy chunks of 25 songs at a time. It has also reminded me of songs that at one point ruled my world to the point of obsession, at least until the next shiny melody came along and grabbed my fancy.

Like most other people diving into British dance music circa 1990-1992, I knew about The Orb. I knew they were considered a major player in the world of electronic music. I knew that critics and consumers alike loved them and, given the limited avenues I had to get to raves what with having no cash, no car and limited access to like-minded friends, I heard "Little Fluffy Clouds" A LOT. And, you know what? It was... okay. I liked it but I wasn't crazy about it. I read rhapsodic article after rhapsodic article, in magazines, newspapers and online, hailing their genius. I just didn't get it. I mean, it was blatantly obvious they weren't bad. In fact, I would even go as far as to say that I thought most, if not all, of the hype they received was warranted; it just didn't resonate with me. In the back of my mind, I thought I was missing out on something, but everything in the scene I encountered was so fresh, new and exciting to me that I didn't really care.

Fast-forward: It is now 1997 and I am in the peak time of my show-going days. I'm completely obsessed with Orbital at this point; In Sides is in such heavy rotation in my CD player that most of my friends think I've forgotten all about my mopey post-punk roots and have given up on my Cure fandom (I hadn't; I went to the Wild Mood Swings tour that year and was still busily convincing myself that "Strange Attraction" wasn't a steaming pile of a song). When I hear Orbital is touring, I can't wait to get my ticket; finding out that The Orb is also on the bill is just a neat bonus (or so I thought at the time).

I really did enjoy that show (IIRC, it was The Orb/Orbital/Chemical Brothers) but I was wholly unprepared for how much The Orb was going to blow me away, particularly with "Toxygene". The bouncy shuffle-step ragga-influence intertwined with traffic noises and various movie samples flipped a switch in my head. I no longer thought, "Oh, obviously they're good but I'm just not into them." That song was a perfect gateway; not only did it squarely hit the right place/right time bullseye, but its competing strands of simple dance floor joy and environmental pathos converged into a beautiful balance, something that made me rethink some of my stances on the environment while dancing until I collapsed. Furthermore, it shone a vastly different light on the rest of their catalogue; I went back to "Little Fluffy Clouds" and realized that I had been denying myself heaven for years by not surrendering to its charms. This one song, a song most would unanimously agree is not anywhere near The Orb at its peak, completely and utterly made me a strong fan of The Orb, and every time I hear it I receive the same revelatory rush I felt on the dance floor at Avalon over a decade ago.

http://www.theorb.com/ (RSS feedz for u)
http://www.loopz.co.uk/(WAIT, ORBITAL IS TOURING THE UK THIS SUMMER????)
http://www.astralwerks.com/chemical/ (srsly, We Are The Night is pretty great, stop hatin')
http://www.thecure.com/ (lol, Robert rants in caps)

YOU ARE ONLY AS OLD AS YOU FEEL OH WAIT BUT I FEEL OLD UH

So this happened:



To be fair, during this tremendous round of bad decision making, both my hairstylist and I were fairly (ok very) drunk and so was everyone else, but the important thing was that this was my recent 36th birthday and with the cries of my ever patient girlfriend K ringing in my ears ("THIS IS A DESPERATE ATTEMPT TO CLING TO YOUR YOUTH") this is how the evening shaped up. (Later on I managed to fall backwards off of my lowlying deck into a snow drift, laughing all the way, but that will have to inspire a different post maybe sometime or never)

Which brings to mind those songs that become permanent HOLY CRAP IM SO DRUNK AND IT IS MY BIRTHDAY I NEED TO HEAR THIS 14 TIMES IN A ROW classics, which I assume is a trait common to everyone, and if not, well I am sorry that you are dead inside and perhaps you should go take a long hard look in the mirror before the old age medication kicks in for the evening and try to reilluminate that youthful spark.

To clarify, I'm not generally talking about songs that talk about your birthday or anyones birthday like that cloying godforsaken Beatles song - in fact it is hard to figure out why they have this staying power but shrugmoticon, they do, so whatever.

First up is Firewater - Bourbon and Division which will throw me into an inconsolable petulant fit if unavailable right around midnight, which might explain why my friends don't really enjoy taking me out to bars on my birthday. I have no idea what the hell is going on with the video here, but at least you can hear the song so, um, thanks weird internet dude.

So yeah, once I've warmed up the crowd with that cuddly little number, I usually move right into some horrible unpleasant only enjoyable to me nonsense like BELPHEGOR. Sometimes though, I am feeling like making everyone happy and play the best song ever* "She Will Only Bring You Happiness" by mclusky, (now defunct, sob, but have been suceeded by Future Of The Left, which will come up here eventually) which seriously can do no wrong, and is full of enough joy to make the inevitable hangover worth having and propel me through time to current age +1.


*note: maybe not the best song ever, but it is when I am drunk and it is my birthday. so there.

http://www.bloodshotrecords.com/artist/firewater
http://www.belphegor.at/index2.php
http://beggarsgroupusa.com/mclusky/

ACCEPT YOUR FAILINGS. NO SERIOUSLY ACCEPT THEM.

There are a lot of things that we all have difficulties accepting about ourselves, and despite my obvious TRANSFIXING ability to blog, and BLOG WELL, I understand these things just like a normal less blog-capable sort might be more easily inclined to do. Sometimes it comes in the form of realizing that other people (which you share a certain sort of basic human equal value to on some level) have internet capabilities that you do not share, like hotlinking successfully with the greatest of ease, and thus moving through the internet sea like a beautiful shark, smooth and shiny and yet deadly and effective.

It is a tough road of self-discovery, but it is not one without merit, my friends. Together we can all grow, and flourish.

Anyway, in the interest of "I have a problem" internet anonymous self-awareness, I present two (2!) individual points of light on my path to share with you my deepest seated quickly dashed off in between episodic television on DVD FEELINGS. First, I am willing to accept the mucky inconsistent garbage that is packaged up for us under the rubric of "post-rock" as long as it is sold in some sort of metal context (hey whats up Isis and Pelican I see what you are doing there) as evidenced by the fact that the Red Sparowes, (which I only know about because of the fine fine people at robotic empire) are currently one of my favorite things ever at least for the next 15 or so minutes.

The second point is that no matter what I achieve in life, no matter how far I carry forward the flag of human endeavor and expression, even at the highest heights (think first published work, or making a baby, or whatever the kids are turning to for the mark of achievement in the new economy) nothing I ever do will be even half as cool as or reach the toes that TELEX is dipping in our cultural pool.

No shamepain in my campaign.

http://www.redsparowes.com/
http://www.telex-music.com/ (DO NOT IGNORE - WEBSITE MADE ENTIRELY OUT OF FUN)

THAT'S NOT MY NAME! THAT'S NOT MY NAME! THAT'S NOT MY NAME!

Yes, we heard you the first time.

I think there's something uniquely insidious about The Ting Tings. Their particular brand of ear worm indie is likely not being pitched at my demographic; somehow, I find it hard to imagine marketing folks shutting off the demo and saying, "You know who would really go for this type of immature, super-repetitive mantra-pop? Black ex-raver/industrial heads suffering from acute musical nostalgia!" The fact that this is not my type of thing should come as no surprise to anyone who has spoken to me about music at any point in my life. I get that.

Why, then, do I find myself bopping around singing, "That's not my name!" to myself at incredibly embarrassing moments? (An example: last week, this popped into my head as I was walking past coworkers on my way to coffee machine. One, a nu-bluegrass freak, looked at me incredulously and said, "Oh my God, are you singing THE TING TINGS?" I, of course, burst into tears and ran away.) I thought this song was annoying when it is was a pitiful attempt to make Whitney Houston relevant to New Jack Swing; stripping out all of the blackness and replacing it with super-safe bouncy indie-dance doesn't really help anything. However, it is forcefully, offensively catchy. Somehow, it has wormed its way deep into my subconscious and staked a claim, shouldering aside infinitely more palatable things like "The Power of Lard" and "David" and hunkering down like an embarrassing, farty uncle. I hate it, I don't want to hear it, I don't want to sing it, but I can't stop thinking about it. The whole situation is hideous and I feel helpless in the face of it; in three months, am I going to be rocking back and forth in a straitjacket muttering "and the drums, the drums, the drums, the DRUMS, the DRUMS, THE DRUMS, THE DRUMS, THE DRUMS!" while my family sobs on the other side of the padded bars?

Oh Christ, I'm humming it right now. Please pray for me.

http://www.thetingtings.com (ps: fuck off)
http://www.whitneyhouston.com/ (lol crack)
http://www.gusgus.com/ (wau, it's 1997 again)
http://www.alternativetentacles.com/bandinfo.php?band=lard (I shouldn't be as pleased that I managed to get a Lard reference in here as I am, huh)

Oh, what is this

Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I'm confused; maybe I'm not supposed to be here at all. The little questions prey on the idle mind like maggots worming their way through a hearty meal of dead bison and all we can do at the end of the day is roll over and fall into the little death better known as "sleep." (Or, if you're lucky, "shameful slap sex.")

In theory there should be something said about music here but I've got a hot chick waiting for me to go out so I'll say this: the new Basement Jaxx record is so awful that it makes me want to burn everything they own. For shame, Basement Jaxx, or perhaps should I say "Basement Tone-Deaf Fuckers Who Used To Know Better Than To Sing On Their Singles."



HANG YOUR HEAD! HANG YOUR HEAD IN SHAME!

http://www.basementjaxx.co.uk/ (lol placeholder website)
http://www.myspace.com/basementjaxx

so yes by the way, we also have puppies

In the interest of causing an internet wide uncontrollable blog related media blitz, it has come to my attention that puppies are popular with broad spectrum internet popularity trends (heretofore referred to as BSIPTs) so in order to monetize our fantastic blog via the tools made available by the blogger group to the best of our abilities, we present puppies that will be purchased by me in the near future for maximum cuteness:




oh yeah also the new depeche mode album is a great return to form and as a dude that started getting cranky at the "personal jesus" slippery slope into an eventual waht who asked for all this geetar nonsense reaction (not to mention that no offense that whole "songs of love and devotion" thing kind of was poo city IMHO) this new album is perhaps SOME GREAT REWARD to dudes that think yer last several albums were blaaaaah and maybe you fey british dudes should stick to the bleep bloop stuff and leave the RAWK to people that can do it/cant make the bleep bloops even if their lives depended on it:

RONG

embedding disabled by request, but i forgive you, the depeche mode, because that is probably a little too creepy to embed and i assume that is your excuse.

www.seriouslydudeitsdepechemodenooffenseyoureallyneedmyhelp?.com

WELL OK THEN

might as well get into the meat of it right off the bat. At some point we will probably get this whole MUSICBLOGGING thing worked out where we host some sort of internet files somewhere in which you can download them to your personal computer but in the meantime we are going to utilize this wonderful new technology what is called the "youtube" to make the fancy happen.

SO

I am a sensitive guy that subscribes to the usual rules of dainty music listening that normally accompanies evenings of fine wine and erudite conversation and perhaps a snifter of brandy when I am feeling particularly ROWDY, but sometimes you just need to get wrapped up in total neckwhipping rocksign throwing chaos, and the best thing for moments like that is a local band (MPLS/STPL) that is known by the totally nonoffensive and family friendly moniker GAY WITCH ABORTION. Which we present to you, without further ado, right here:


oh snap that stuff? it am loud.

http://www.myspace.com/gaywitchabortion (WARNING WILL MAKE EYEBALLS EXPLODE)
http://www.learningcurverecords.com/bands/view/33

OK SO HERE WE GO

So I realize that we all have 8 bagazillion blogspots of meaningless nonsense to meander through on a daily basis but this one is different because we made it and it is awesome. I can only imagine that once this gets rolling it will be just as nonsensical and fantastic as you have come to expect from a bunch of people that like to babble on the internet and be drunk and out of sorts sometimes so lets go, yes?