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Archive for August, 2007

Quite a Bounty

Wednesday, August 29th, 2007

Usually afterwork I hit a couple of thrift stores for a quick run in, look at the records in disgust and then run out. Last Friday I had no intention of going to any of these as I had been pretty sick of seeing the same crappy records for the last few weeks.

Usually the first four records are all I need to flip through to determine if is going to be worth my time to darken my fingers with disgusting dirty record dust. Usually its something like Jim Naybors, Boston Pops, Chuck Mangione, Barbara Streisand and I am out the door. On this day the first record was Led Zeppelin II, which was a good sign, meaning that these records had not entirely been picked over. The next one was The Who – once again not a bad start. I flipped through a few unremarkable records and all of a sudden there is a Charlie Parker record then a Mingus record, then a Pharoah Saunders record. I started making a pile of all the records that were a go. There were old mono Rolling Stones records, Brian Eno, The Kinks, Love….I could feel the sweat forming on my brow as I feverishly flipped through the stack. I started glancing around quickly to make sure that no one else was approaching. I was like a Hyena and I was scavenging the vinyl remains of someone’s musically open minded youth.

I exited the thrift store with 36 records, all marked at 99 cents a piece. I loaded up my car and headed straight home so that the Arizona sun would not lay its final claim on this stack of vinyl.

Arizona Culture

Wednesday, August 29th, 2007

Granted I try and avoid downtown Tempe at any cost, but every once in awhile I find myself making the slow drive down its depressing expanse. For awhile I have been telling my friends how Arizona is stuck in in the 90’s, not the 1890’s – as that would be totally fun with dudes walking around with cowboy hats and six shooters and horses and stuff, but the 1990’s. Mill Avenue in particular seems to be a time capsule of 1990’s culture. Here you will find teenage youths proudly wearing JNCO Jeans and chain wallets.

It took me awhile to figure out the cultural significance of this, then it dawned on me that these kids do not view what they are wearing as trash, but rather these are family heirlooms – undoubtedly passed on by an older brother or sister who had od’ed on Ecstacy and are now waving their glowsticks at the great rave in the sky.

Coco Rosie

Thursday, August 23rd, 2007

If I told you that a band was capable of creating a song that sounded like a wounded female elf with a speech impediment singing nonsensical lyrics over some sweet electro-reggae, would you believe me? The world could not possibly posses such evilness, could it? Unfortunately I have experienced this darkness first hand and it goes by the name Coco Rosie.

This is kind of the worst stuff ever, even despite the fact that there is only one song on their most recent album that has any sort of reggae feel to it. Yeah I get it – these two women are wicked crazy, like they probably have pet ferrets that they caress while reading French poetry and use those huge salt crystals instead of regular deodorant. The music on their album “The Adventures of Ghosthorse and Stillborn” has the sexual swagger of a neutered R. Kelly watered down with art school pretension, this is the type of stuff that makes me hear a Rush song and think “Hey this isn’t too bad”.