August 8th, 2007 r8e8rcom
alright, so I think that whole hang-over thing was a mild form of food poisoning or something. After further research I’ve concluded that I remain immune to hang-overs. Thank God. I am not, however, immune to drunk dialing as many of you can attest to after the last few nights. My bad.
I saw this band last night at the ‘pains of being pure at heart’ release show. They use some kind of weird nintendo thing on stage for those 8-bit sounds. I’m not a big chiptune fan but it was actually pretty cool blasting out of the PA with loud guitars. Anyway, these are track from an upcoming release, however, they aren’t mixed yet. I’m not sure what label (if any) will be releasing these, but I know their last recording was released under 8 bit peoples.
http://www.r8e8r.com/mp3r/upload/thedepriciationguild/03%20Darklooming.mp3
http://www.r8e8r.com/mp3r/upload/thedepriciationguild/04%20Butterfly%20Kisses.mp3
http://www.r8e8r.com/mp3r/upload/thedepriciationguild/01%20In%20Her%20Gentle%20Jaws.mp3
-mark
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August 6th, 2007 r8e8rcom
Anyone go to the Blonde Redhead show at McCarren park yesterday? How was it? I feel like I’ve seen them so many times already and it just didn’t seem worth a day sweating it out in an old dried out pool. So, friday night I stayed out pretty late. I think it was around 4:00 when I started heading home. When i get on the train theres no one else in the car. I’m resting my legs across 3 seats and my head is leaning against the wall, you know, homeless style. I’m sorta zoning out at this point, but still listening to the train station announcements. When I hear ‘Ft. Hamilton Parkway’ I snap out of it and realize theres a girl sitting in the seat across from me lining the bottom of her foot up again the bottom of mine. I realize at this point that I was staring right at her for what was prolly several train stops not even realizing it. I’m not sure how long the whole footsie thing’s been going on or why she’s smiling at me like that. Do I know this person from somewhere? Did I start a conversation with her? I’m obviously in no state to try to figure these things out, so I jump up and sort of mumble, “uh…this is my stop…hu….see ya?” She just sits there smiling at me.
Named after Australian painter Jane Deputy’s definition of outsider art — art by prisoners, loners, the mentally ill, and other marginalized people, and made without thought to imitation or presentation — South London via Australia’s ‘Let’s Buy A Van’ make brilliantly simple, cleverly stupid art-punk. Tagged by NME as part of the “Big New Art Music” scene that also includes bands such as Ferdinand Bloc and Franz Party, as well as other bands from Let’s Buy A Van’s South London/Outback locale. The band alleges that they began writing songs five minutes after they formed, including their single Let’s Start A Band, which featured lyrics like “hey, Let’s start a band, and get girls to jack us off with their hands.” Let’s Buy A Van recorded a demo, ARTSTICK, that attracted the attention of Fried Chicken, which signed the band and then released Let’s Start A Band in spring 2007. Around the time of the single’s release, the band played a string of dates, including a set at the Rock Against Bad Art show.
http://www.r8e8r.com/mp3r/upload/letsbuyavan/let’s%20buy%20a%20van.mp3
that bio is from the myspace page. although it may sound like something I’d write, its not. I gotta apologize for this one, but I couldn’t resist.
btw, happy belated birthday Noelle!
-mark
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August 2nd, 2007 r8e8rcom
After a short stint of sobriety this summer I’m now not so proud to announce that I have lost my resistance to hang-overs. Most of you know me well enough to have witnessed, or at least heard of, my uncanny ability to drink until 5:00 am and show up for work the next day. Maybe not on time, but when have I ever been on time for anything. But alas, my days of bottomless whiskey bottles and endless cigarettes are over. After falling asleep on a bar stool in Greenpoint at 4:30 this morning I headed to the comfort of a friends couch to call it a night. And although I did make it in to work my head is swimming in a cloud of fog that settles right behind my eyes and makes everything just a tad bit more blurry than usual. Thoughts seem to sit just out of my grasp in the back of my head, a fleeting glimpse that’s more annoying than motivating as they disappear with each pounding throb of my head that sears with pain into my eye sockets. Ah, so this is what a hang-over feels like. Was I just perpetually hung-over before and didn’t realize it? Whatever the reason I feel like I can now fully appreciate what a commitment of having a ‘night out’ really is.
Interpol, or International Criminal Police Organization as the kids say, is an organization facilitating international police cooperation. It was established as the International Criminal Police Commission in 1923 and adopted its telegraphic address as its name in 1956. It should not be confused with the International Police, which takes on an active uniformed role in policing war-torn countries. Yeah, I know how to use wikipedia. And you thought Interpol was a bunch skinny white Williamsburg kids, shows how much you know.
http://www.r8e8r.com/mp3r/upload/Our%20Love%20To%20Admire/10%20Wrecking%20Ball.mp3
http://www.r8e8r.com/mp3r/upload/Our%20Love%20To%20Admire/06%20Pace%20Is%20The%20Trick.mp3
http://www.r8e8r.com/mp3r/upload/Our%20Love%20To%20Admire/07%20All%20Fired%20Up.mp3
-mark
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August 1st, 2007 r8e8rcom
I’m standing in this deli today waiting by the sandwich counter deciding if I want anything. I see this guy walk in. He has this terribly angry look on his face like hes going to kill anyone that gets in his way. He catches the eye of a loud boisterous brooklyn-goon-type guy in line. They each make eye contact and its on. Neither breaks eye contact feeling their alpha-male dominance is being threatening or some other stupid fucking reason I guess. The angry guy keeps walking turning his head to maintain eye contact, his face getting angrier with each step. He’s careful not give any sign of submission until, BAM, he walks right into me. As soon as this happens the fat brooklyn guy bursts out laughing and hells, “you stupid fucking idiot”. The angry guy quickly collects himself and hurries to the back of the deli, careful not to make eye contact with anyone else. Social behavior is so weird sometimes.
Hey, has everyone heard the new interpol already? Should I send some out. Lemme know.
BOAT began as a basement dream of one D. Crane when he moved back to Seattle from a miserable stint in Chicago. BOAT’s current lineup is the epitome of sloppy/poppy three piece rock. It features J. Goodman playing maniacal drum fills/tasteful tambourines/shakers and bells/and keyboards/all this while shouting backup vocals and la las/M. McKenzie playing McCarteney-esque bass and guitar as well as having the most silky smooth backup vocals in all of music/ and D. Crane playing guitars and keyboards and shouting and singing lyrics about lanterns, rainbow shoelaces, his hatred of Chicago, and ninjas. The touring lineup of BOAT features Ian Bone of Sacramento, CA as the utility man. I grabbed these tracks from the insound digital store, from the release ‘Lets Drag Our Feet’ on Magic Marker Records.
http://www.r8e8r.com/mp3r/upload/boat/12%20Lets%20Drag%20Our%20Feet!.mp3
http://www.r8e8r.com/mp3r/upload/boat/07%20The%20Ferocious%20Sounds%20of%20Lobsters%20and%20Snakes%20-mom,%20dad,%20me,%20and%20you-.mp3
http://www.r8e8r.com/mp3r/upload/boat/01%20Come%20with%20Me%20Well%20Win.mp3
-mark
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