Odds and Ends 007
Hip-Hop Doesn't Have to Try to Be Hard--It Damn Well Is Hard
Speech Debelle: Freedom of Speech (Big Dada)
Atmospheric rapper conveys advanced thought and warm feelings with pliant voice, enveloping beats, and lyrics that have their sharper moments ("Studio Backpack Rap," "Collapse," "Shawshank") ***
Danny Brown: XXX (Fool's Gold)
"No apologies/For the misogyny," although students of the class system and serious cunnilingus fans might forgive him anyway ("Scrap or Die," "I Will") ***
Common: The Dreamer/The Believer (Think Common/Warner Bros.)
Still on a major label, he's damn well gonna act it ("Raw [How You Like It]," "The Believer") ***
Atmosphere: The Family Sign (Rhymesayers)
More memorable than many more interesting rappers as he singsongs medium-tempo of his mature values, his life as an entertainer, and his lost dog ("Became," "She's Enough") ***
K'Naan: More Beautiful Than Silence (A&M/Octone)
Too much to prove, and neither Nelly Furtado nor Nas can help ("Nothing to Lose," "Coming to America") **
Dark Time Sunshine: Vessel (Fake Four Inc.)
Seattle MC Onry Osborne ne Michael Martinez d/b/a Cape Cowen meets Chicago beatmaker Zamara for grown-up illbient that makes the most of the world's and its own incomprehensibility ("Vessel," "All Aboard") **
Tinie Tempah: Disc-Overy (Capitol)
Finally grime-ragga-whatevs produces one of the mildly likable commercial rappers we thought we had such a monopoly on ("Till I'm Gone," "Simply Unstoppable") *
Buck 65: 20 Odd Years Volume 4: Ostranenie (Warner Music Canada)
Maybe it's me‑-well, almost definitely it's me‑-but I like him better on baseball than on romance and on album than on EP ("Joey Bats," "Legendary") *
And as a matter of fact, the half-dozen comments sections I looked at were a lot better than most. There was a lot of banality and stupidity -- but not many comments that made you wanna rip somebody's lips off. (That is, they weren't like the Henley-Frank Ocean discussion.)
Absolutely insisting on verifiable real names would solve everything.
You'd think it would help. And then you look at reader comments on Rolling Stone's website.
Anyway, I'm starting to ramble on so here's the lyrics.
It doesn't matter what you call it at all, the darkest day of our summer trip..
but you don't have to turn the lights on..
the ghosts are stationed in the hall..
it doesn't matter which direction you fall..
the sky breaks in two,
it's the end of you
did you really think that you could escape it today- over the tallest bridge in the state of ohio?
and as the ruins fall around you, you think of something quick to say..
it doesn't matter when you put it that way..
the sky breaks in two, it's the end of you
everywhere the rocks are falling
and you are just another piece
with all the birds that make a circle
are you not more than one of these?
Require readers to post using their real names? "My own view is that anonymity is at the heart of the Internet."
Well, there's his boneheaded problem right there. How to unlock door? Well, can't use a key, that's for sure. Absolutely insisting on verifiable real names would solve everything. There would be a short string of murders (no great loss) and internet discussion would start to approach at least the quality of Letters to the Editor.
This, from Andrew Gaerig's Pitchfork review of the new collection Shangaan Shake, a remix album of 2010's Shangaan Electro...
If these mixes have found their way into more podcasts and sets than actual Shangaan Electro tracks, forgive the DJs: the Shangaan tempos (usually north of 180 bpm) and organ-heavy instrumentation made them imperfect fits for the European and North American venues in which people listen to forward-thinking, adventurous dance music.How condescending is that?
August 9, 1931: A Ford 5-AT-C Trimotor, registration NC9662, crashed on the bank of the Little Miami River near Cincinatti, Ohio, killing all 6 on board. The cause was failure and separation of the right side engine due to a broken hub.
What a gorgeous song.I know right? Just when you thought Strawberry couldn't get better, another song reaches out and grabs you.
So now, what the hell does "little Miami" refer to, just as a phrase?
I will tell you that a pay lake is a kind of artificially stocked fishing pond common in Ohio, Kentucky, and Indiana. And a Wrist Rocket is an early, rather successful slingshot brand.
I had absolutely no idea "Magnolia" was about Cassie Gaines -- was I the only one?
This was news to me also, now I like it even more. Would of fit right in on DBT's Southern Rock Opera. If Lisa Walker took Shonna Tucker's place in the Truckers how ridiculously good would they be?
It's not quite a "judas" moment but what came to mind to me is the woman yelling "You're Ugly" during "Hickory Wind" on Grievous Angel. I always assumed she was directing that at Gram, but now I wonder whether the jealous girl was yelling at Emmylou?
this our last embrace
feathers soft against your face
you were ill-positioned in the wings
and I can't help but watch you
in the shallow breaths between
against the backdrops of the fires flickering
cassie, it's just not our night..one look at the landing site
should tell you everything you need to know
skim the treetops till you fall and shatter like a mirror ball..
it's a broken down occasion our last show
i'll miss you on the sweeter notes, smiling as you zip your coat, singing in the
quiet spots between...this is our last long embrace, feathers soft against your face, you were ill-positioned in the wings..engine engine failure..engine engine failure thursday night
From Guralnick's Sweet Soul Music:
"Legend has frequently suggested that Redding was strictly along for the ride, that he generally served as Johnny Jenkin's driver and valet - but in fact it was as much his group as it was Jenkin's, and he had already had a couple of other records out himself both on another local label (Bobby Smith's unfortunately named Confederate) and as Otis and the Shooters on a California label called Finer Arts."
I believe Otis was in Johnny Jenkins band and not vice versa.Maybe at one point in time, but to Johnny Jenkin's eternal dismay, that's not the case anymore.
about the blogger
Starting in 1967, Robert Christgau has covered popular music for The Village Voice, Esquire, Blender, Playboy, Rolling Stone, and many other publications. He teaches in New York University's Clive Davis Department of Recorded Music, maintains a comprehensive website at robertchristgau.com, and has published five books based on his journalism. He has written for MSN Music since 2006.
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