“All-American Boy” portrays a young gay man who misreads signals from an apparently straight “all-American” male friend. On a day hanging out with the gang, the two guys and a girl take off in a car. She drives, as the guys sit together in the back, with the straight man, at one point, falling asleep on the gay man’s shoulder. Feeling like a third wheel, the girl eventually, angrily drives off, leaving the two men to pal around in the woods, where they end up stripping down and going skinny-dipping — even sharing a quick kiss. Ultimately for the straight guy, it was just all in good fun. But for the gay man, it was something much more significant, and he is left dazed, confused and longing.
This new album by Caravan Palace is fucking fantastic: old-timey swing jazzy stuff fused with electronic goodness. Their first album was really impressive, and this one really keeps their hot thing going. “Clash” and “Dramophone” are especially good. It’s a steal for $7 on Amazon (14 tracks), a dollar less than iTunes. (I prefer Amazon MP3 nowadays but iTunes works as well, in a pinch.) Give the songs a preview and grab it!
Note: this is not an advertisement — I just love this album. 🙂
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People always say, “Today’s hits sound soooo manufactured!” And they’re right, because they are manufactured — apparently by teams of writers and musicians who get together at “writing camps” to concoct hit songs. I had no idea this was going on, but totally makes sense! I don’t listen to popular radio at all anymore because all that shit sounds the same. Whiny voices auto-tuned to robotic perfection, passionately bleating over generic dance beats. Same chords, same song structure, same mindless lyrics, over and over and over again. Do people really enjoy this generic tripe? Couple this with radio stations which no longer do local programming (they get their music via satellite from elsewhere) and you’ve got yourself some stale, homogenized radio. How utterly boring.
I listen to a lot of internet radio these days, because there is far more variety and the advertising isn’t nearly as intrusive as on FM. (SomaFM, jazzradio.com, and gotradio.com are my current faves.) And never will I run into the tinny whinings of Rihanna, Britney or (gods help us) Justin Bieber. Not even a grain of Gaga. It’s bliss!
Def Jam started paying for Rihanna’s recent single, “Man Down,” more than a year ago. In March of 2010, the label held a writing camp in L.A. to create the songs for Rihanna’s album, Loud.
At a writing camp, a record label hires the best music writers in the country and drops them into the nicest recording studios in town for about two weeks. It’s a temporary version of the old music-industry hit factories, where writers and producers cranked out pop songs.
“It’s like an all-star game,” says Ray Daniels, who was at the writing camp for Rihanna.
Daniels manages a songwriting team of two brothers, Timothy and Theron Thomas, who work under the name Rock City. “You got all the best people, you’re gonna make the best records,” he says.
Shit…if I’d known this, I would have skipped her show a couple of months ago. ‘Cause I’m like that.
In the wake of the publication of her autobiography last year Between a Heart and a Rock Place, the “Invincible” pop-rock veteran is taking her love of Christmas and new-found literary propensity and combining them into what she describes as a work of ”historical fiction” set in the modern day about the second coming of ol’ J.C.. Benatar told Billboard that the Christian messiah’s return has long been a topic of interest to her. “It’s one of my hobbies, so I just started writing this story,” she said. “I’ve been putting it together for almost 10 years.”
Just realized that we were out of the country when the whole Rebecca Black “Friday” thing hit its peak, so I’ve never heard it and don’t know a thing about her — except that everyone HATES the song. How long can I remain oblivious to this soul-crippling crapulence?
I’ve been digging out some Irish music that I haven’t heard in a while, getting into the groove for our trip in just over a week. This came on last night as I was cooking…I had forgotten what a brilliant (and bitchy in its own way) song it is. Here are the lyrics to Paul Brady’s version, which many consider to be the best! Look it up and play it if you can (maybe on iTunes?), it’s a lovely song considering the lyrics. I do have to admit that I had to look up the word “spalpeen”, though…
Arthur McBride and the Sergeant
Trad arranged and adapted Paul Brady
Oh, me and my cousin, one Arthur McBride
As we went a-walking down by the seaside
Now, mark what followed and what did betide
For it being on Christmas morning…
Out for recreation, we went on a tramp
And we met Sergeant Napper and Corporal Vamp
And a little wee drummer, intending to camp
For the day being pleasant and charming
“Good morning ! Good morning!” the sergeant did cry
“And the same to you gentlemen! ” we did reply,
Intending no harm but meant to pass by
For it being on Christmas morning
But says he, “My fine fellows if you will enlist,
It’s ten guineas in gold I will slip in your fist
And a crown in the bargain for to kick up the dust
And drink the King’s health in the morning.
For a soldier he leads a very fine life
And he always is blessed with a charming young wife
And he pays all his debts without sorrow or strife
And always lives pleasant and charming…
And a soldier he always is decent and clean
In the finest of clothing he’s constantly seen
While other poor fellows go dirty and mean
And sup on thin gruel in the morning.”
“But”, says Arthur, “I wouldn’t be proud of your clothes
For you’ve only the lend of them as I suppose
And you dare not change them one night, for you know
If you do you’ll be flogged in the morning.
And although that we are single and free
we take great delight in our own company
And we have no desire strange faces to see
Although that your offers are charming
And we have no desire to take your advance
All hazards and dangers we barter on chance
For you would have no scruples for to send us to France
Where we would get shot without warning.”
“Oh now!”, says the sergeant “I’ll have no such chat
And I neither will take it from spalpeen or brat
For if you insult me with one other word
I’ll cut off your heads in the morning.”
And then Arthur and I we soon drew our hods
And we scarce gave them time for to draw their own blades
When a trusty shillelagh came over their heads
And bade them take that as fair warning
And their old rusty rapiers that hung by their side
We flung them as far as we could in the tide
“Now take them out, Divils!”, cried Arthur McBride
“And temper their edge in the morning.”
And the little wee drummer we flattened his pow
And we made a football of his rowdy-dow-dow
Threw it in the tide for to rock and to row
And bade it a tedious returning
And we having no money, paid them off in cracks
And we paid no respect to their two bloody backs
For we lathered them there like a pair of wet sacks
And left them for dead in the morning
And so to conclude and to finish disputes
We obligingly asked if they wanted recruits
For we were the lads who would give them hard clouts
And bid them look sharp in the morning
Oh me and my cousin, one Arthur McBride
As we went a walkin’ down by the seaside,
Now mark what followed and what did betide
For it being on Christmas morning
(From the traditional, adapted by Paul Brady/ Copyright control)
Ahhh, the unedited “Close to the Edit” by Art of Noise. Still one of the best/weirdest videos I’ve ever seen, awarded by MTV for Most Experimental Video and the Best Editing. The bits where they destroy classical instruments actually pissed off some in Britain, leading to a different video later on. But look how much fun it must have been!