NYD!

I know it's too late (since I've already talked about my favourite albums), but here's a late inclusion.

THE GASLIGHT ANTHEM: 59 SOUND


FUCK I LOVE THIS CD!!









Also, can you imagine what somebody lonely, drunk and posting at 2.am on new years day could comprehend this video as being? CAN YOU?

Two things from 2008 that work so perfectly together it's scary.

SHUT UP ASHLEE! I'M WRITIN' MY SONGS!

I don't hate the new Fall Out Boy CD, but every fucking song is:

First verse.

This isn't really imporant.

Pre chorus: Here's where you say something pseudo witty:

Simon's full of foul compliants/ but fouls only talk when they're not baked.

She only happy when she's baked (and I want to make her into a loaf.)

She's a sad girl who cuts (to commercial).

Spit on me (and I'll take a shine to you)

Chorus: Double the tempo. Four lines. Sing one of them falsetto.

And I just want to stumble
Fall and with my broken teeth I'll mumble
(Falsetto) I never asked to fall in love (/Falsetto)
But cocaine never asked to be a drug.


Repeat what you've written and bang your totally hot wife/ masturbate if you're the weird bass player.

Ten 2008 records that are really good.

Sun Kil Moon- April

Mark Kolelek makes beautiful music and then tries to keep in this world. That’s why his songs are so long. That’s why the guitars snake through multiple musical savannahs while his mumbles never leave first gear. Stuck in a perpetual movie flashback, April is sepia toned and aching for a time that may never have even existed. But he makes you believe that he misses it. It may not be his finest hour (that’s probably- although hopefully not- going to be a split between Ghosts of the Great Old Highway and Old Ramon) but it’s as affecting and the way that you wish every moment of beauty was- evocative and slow to leave.

Jenny Lewis- Acid Tongue.

Lewis’ music- be it coked out Rilo Kiley rock or barnstomping solo country- has always had a attitude that sat somewhere between sexy exuberance and a maudlin understanding of the world. After trying to sellout in her day job (Rilo Kiley) with last year’s Under the Blacklight, Acid Tongue finds Lewis still shifting her time between the two perspectives. Less of a traditionalist than on the religious talk fest Rabbit Fur Coat, her sound as eclectic as it is consistent. Black Sand is a solo approximation of last years Black Light sound, while the shit kicking Carpetbaggers features a an ever rambling Elvis Costello and a ‘Hey Boy’ vocal that makes knees go weak. The album’s highlight is the Americana soaked title track, a tale of drug use, love and regret that perfectly encapsulates the two sides of Lewis’ music.

The Hold Steady- Stay Positive.

If you’ve only heard of The Hold Steady, then you’d probably be justified in not liking them- or at least being skeptical of their success. New Yorkers playing Springsteen style rock led by a balding late-thirties singer obsessed with the lives of the young and reckless sounds like a soundtrack to a jail sentence- or at the very least looking like the creepy old dude who hangs out at high school parties.

Then the guitars and keyboards make an E-Street wall of sound while lyricist Craig Finn’s characters spout wisdom that belies their age, and it becomes clear that the Hold Steady are really fucking good. The two parts work perfectly together- the music would be cliché without Finn’s recklessness, and Finn would be a leering creep obsessed with youthful dreams without the band holding him steady (ha!).

There’s nothing really original about the coursing Stay Positive, but there’s nothing fake about it either.

Drive By Truckers- Brighter than Light’s Creation

Nobody expects a southern rock album to be moody. They want to know what kind of alcohol to drink (moonshine) and to be reassured that you know, sometimes a jive talkin’ woman has it coming. But then a song like Two Daughters and a Wife –which, if you’ll excuse my lack of purple prose, is absolutely fucking beautiful- comes along. While the southern standards are still upheld, the album preaches as hard as hard as it rocks- The Man I Shot is one of the first songs to actually discuss the Iraq War, while Bob humanizes the crazy guy in your neighborhood.

Conor Oberst- Self Titled

If Conor Oberst had to grow up sometime. The Bright Eyes material was (is?) good, but the doe eyed cooing had started to wear a little thin. Cue a solo CD, a roadtrip and a set of songs that evokes rather than tears down- it turns out Oberst loves America, he just had to leave it realize it. Souled Out thumps with distorted conviction, while Moab builds like a looming storm to it’s bridge, where Oberst deftly weaves the album’s best lyrics into thirty seconds of self doubt,

If Bright Eyes was Holden Caulfield- young and with unfulfillable expectations- then Oberst’s solo work is Sal Paradise- brimming with hope restlessness and the American dream.

She and Him- Volume 1

It’s easy to be critical at the concept of She and Him. Cute actress teams up with indie talent to get the haters onside. The story is nothing new.

But what it lacks in conceptual originality it makes up for direction. It’s probably not a surprise that Zooey Deschenal first record is layered with old timey sounds – she’s always had an aura of being born forty years too late- more pinup girl than Maxim Model. Add in M.Wards rustic production to her multitracked vocals and the album stands out like a dug up time capsule.

Death Cab for Cutie- Narrow Stairs

Narrow Stairs wasn’t the change we thought it was going to be- but that doesn’t mean that Death Cab was lying to us. What substituted a change in the creative process may not always cross over to the listener. What they delivered ended up being a pretty good approximation of what Death Cab’s two eras would sound like mashed up. Grapevine Fires features some of Ben Gibbard’s most humbling and mature songwriting yet, while the drums of Pity and Fear thump like heads after a night of mistakes.

Okkervil River- The Stand Ins

Will Sheff and company’s second foray into everything entertainment related is more vitriolic than the first. Pop lie is an attack (or discussion?) on the fibs that pop music tell (ironically with its own catchy power chord and hand clap chorus) while Singer-songwriter flames with contempt as Sheff reels off clichés . But the record is still full of stirring moments- take the first minute of On Tour With Zykos which covers the last minutes of a tour-bus relationship. Equal parts cathartic and angry, the lone morse code piano sounds like it’s drifting down the road with the protagonist’s ex lover.

It maybe strays a little further from the concept of show business than The Stage Names (Is all of life a stage? Is he making some kind of existential comment? ), but who’s complaining when it results in songs like Lost Coastlines?

Ryan Adams- Cardinology

In lieu of writing a review, here is an interpretive rap about Cardinology.

Wecome to quotations dot com (dot com!)

Wecome to quotations dot com (we is real muthafucka!)

Cat’s trippin on Cardinology (say what?)

Talkin like they owe Mr Adam’s an apology (kneel muthafuckas!)

Dude ain’t scared of witches now he’s sober

And it’s turning out fine like a bitch who’s bent over.

He be turning out records once a year they be solid

Dropping the ill bombs like everybody always wanted

He’s thinking about people other than himself when he’s writing

And if he did the same when he was wanking he’d be fine

Wecome to quotations dot com (dot com!)

Wecome to quotations dot com (we is real muthafucka!)

Repeat and write three albums in the time it takes to fade out

Blind Pilot

Blind Pilot most endearing feature isn’t their Lo-Fi minimalism, but rather how close it strays into Late 70’s AOR Pop. The guitar’s never ending strum and laid back vocals breeze through the songs with an ease that’s been ignored for decades. While the determined drums of Go on Say it or BLAH may argue otherwise, the albums default setting is acoustic sensitivity with a hefty dash of Yacht Rock. The songs weaves in tiny seconds of a relationship into a tapestry, and they’re so endearing that you kind of wish you were a part of them (even though it may make you a little bit gay).

Finally, we can use the term ‘Bread-like’ without it having negative connotations*

*For the record, I fucking LOVE BREAD.

Wow.

The surreal life: Watching Adam Sandler covering Neil Young's 'Like a Hurricane' on Letterman

The end of days: Him knocking it out of the park (complete with Guitar solo!)

Awesome Video Saturday

500 words on why TV is awesome.

Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey Tina Fey

The End.

Stray tracks from 2008 (part 2)

Tom Cooney- Gulia
Ever wondered what an Australian M.Ward would sound like? No, me neither, but it turns out we should have.

My Morning Jacket- Touch Me I’m Going to Scream.
Earlier in the year I might have been a little enthusiastic about this CD (I believe the irrelevant words “album of the year.” might have been bandied about. Ultimately the album stumbles as often as it stands, but the dreamy confusion of Touch Me I’m Going To Scream is still a treat.


Ben Folds (feat. Regina Spektor)- You don’t know me.
You know how after the World Trade Center fell down that found that survivor like five days after? That’s what this song’s like, the only positive out of an unmitigated fucking disaster.

Justin Townes Earle- Lone Pine Hill
It’s hardly surprising that the younger Earle has a flair for dramatic storytelling, but what is shocking is the extra layer of depth he brings to his Civil War tale. Embellished with lines that question patriotism, love and loss, it’s s subtle take on his father’s “Bash ‘em over the head wih ideology.” style of songwriting.


The Killers- A Dustland Fairytale
Making rock music isn’t easy- that’s something The Killers are all too aware of-, but making Springsteen rock is damn near impossible. Even though Flowers prefers broader emotive strokes over detailing the moments that dresses wave and screen doors slam, it’s still a pretty good approximation at what the Boss would sound like if he’d moved from Jersey to the city where anything goes. The piano flourishes over the chugging guitars and maybe, just maybe, you start to think that Thunder Road might be in Vegas. But probably not.

Port O’Brien- Fisherman’s Son
I used to think they bred them tough out in Alaska – this was way back when it was best known for The Deadliest Catch and not soccer moms who try to tell zingers at Republican Conventions. But then Port O’Brien showed that Alaskan Fishermen can be just as mopey as everyone else.

Girl Talk- Give Me a Beat
Sure, his songs are ultimately a chance to feel musically superior because you recognized more samples than anybody else, but there’s something to be said for somebody who can find common ground between Styx and Britney Spears (promiscuity and makeup don’t count!).


Calexico- Victor Jara’s Hands.
Calexico’ s Carried to Dust would have sounded fine with just the two ‘core’ members and not in everybody in the indie scene who’d ever heard of Mexico. But then it wouldn’t be a Calexico record, it would be fifteen songs brimming with singer-songwriter angst and some vague Mexican references.
Instead, the band made them these sketches a fully fledged album. The opener Victor Jara’s Hands could have stayed a lonely ballad, but instead the drums build like a sandstorm (is that analogy relevant? Do they have sandstorms in the American desert?) and the bilingual chorus kicks into high gear like a fugitive running for the border.


Songs I'm too lazy/drunk to comment on.
Arms- Blah
Empire on the Sun- Blah

Commencing self denouncement in....

6.5.4.3.2.1.0

Stray tracks from 2008 (part 1)

Atmosphere-Yesterday

The best song off the best Atmosphere album since God’s Love Ugly is the great revealer. It means something to everybody until the last twenty seconds when Slug grabs it back from the listener. The piano sample snakes through the thumping bass as Slug raps like he’s talking to a corrections board- strictly on his best behavior and almost relatable.

Mark Kozelek (Michigan)

Kozelek’s rampant sentimental streak has always sat somewhere between him committing suicide or building a time machine, but here it almost seems angelic. The reworking of Old Ramon’s classic transforms a band number into a solo masterpiece. His mumbles evoking emotions that they technically shouldn’t be able to, as his fingers work across the guitar frets, making the bass note pound and the high notes twitter.

Chris Walla- Everybody Needs a Home.

There was nothing really wrong with Walla’s debut (other than the fact that ‘mobilest’ is not a word), but there was nothing earth shattering about it either (musician hates Bush, footage at 11). He’ a perfectly adept, but he also showed us who the real brains of Death cab are. Still, the best moments where when his politics collided head on with Death Cabby sentiment- the twee sentimentality of a home coupled with Katrina sermonizing.

Black Mountain- Tyrants.

FUCK YOU! I CAN ROCK!

Mates of State- The Re-Arranger

Okay, so maybe I can’t.

Vampire Weekend- Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa

You probably don’t remember these guys. They were popular ages ago. Lots of people liked them. There where quite a few unwarranted ‘Paul Simon’ and ‘Graceland’ comparisons being thrown about. They were on the cover of Spin. Lots of people started to hate them. Somewhere in all this it was forgotten that Vampire Weekend are pretty good at making enjoyable pop music and that doesn’t really matter that they got kind of popular.

Panic at the Disco- Folkin’ Around.

What can I say? This was a nice surprise.

Jackson Browne- My Stunning Mystery Companion

Time the Conqueror was a disaster (okay! We get it. You hate Bush!), but Browne did have a better moment in 2008- the release of another Solo acoustic CD. Not only did it prove that the 70’s where a long, long time ago for Browne, but also that he’s his most endearing when he’s embracing his miles long sentimental streak with nothing but guitar or piano.

Kanye West- Love Lockdown

WHEN I FIRST HEARD WHAT KANYE WAS DOING I WAS SO MAD THAT I ALMOST BROKE THE KEYS ON MY MACBOOK AIR. “WHAT A SQUIDBRAIN!” I THOUGHT, NO WONDER HIS MOM WANTED OUT SO BAD, SHE WAS FUCKING EMBARRASSED.

The major barrier to me totally embracing West is his rampant egotism, but his knack for picking singles is phenomenal. The drums sound off like air raid sirens as Kanye mobilizes his forces against Love. West’s internal battle isn’t predictable, and that’s the best thing about it.

Colin Meloy- Here I Dreamt I was an Architect

Meloy’s solo re-imagining (or re-hashing) of what continues to be one of The Decemberists finest five minutes brings a little of the unexpected. Sure, there’s the same schorarly lyrics, condescending whine and two chords, but there’s also something special- Fleetwood Mac! The crowd’s reaction- half cheers and half laughter- sums it up perfectly- is this dude being ironic or not?

Awesome Live * Music Saturday

*Music is not actually live.

Protip: On the studio version, only put a headphone on your left ear. Then play the song on guitar It's like you're Ryan Adams. Then all you have to do is pull your hair down over your dreamy eyes and avoid all eye contact*.

*Extra points if you already do those.

Things you don't admit to on the internet No. 986

http://www.news.com.au/story/0,27574,24759012-23109,00.html

Dude, keep your mouth shut and maybe nobody will notice.

I don't believe in fate....

But The Hold Steady are playing in Australia. ON MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY. It's almost enough to ignore my hatred of the mainland. And concerts. And people.

We’ve secretly replaced Simpsons Episodes with Bold and the Beautiful episodes. Let’s see if anybody notices…

>

Remember the episode of the Simpsons where Bart gets an elephant? Wasn’t that great when you first saw it fifteen years ago? And then again every three months when Ten would repeat it? And then again when you bought the season 5 DVDs?

Well damnit, for some people that isn’t enough. They still need to see it. And that TEN has canceled The Simpsons for the summer they're spilling out onto the message boards like drunks out into the cold street.

Let's see what they have to say...

Mockfrog: Transmitting live from the 1940’s.

Ironically enough, this message is actually one of the most persuasive arguments for a dictatorship ever.







I'd join him, but where else will I find three year old repeats of NCIS to watch?

As a passionate drunk late night television watcher, I’m also deeply concerned about Ten’s lack of quality midnight programming.

Wait, what’s this box under my TV?

As somebody who doesn’t live in the country your channel airs in and have no business watching, I’m deeply concerned about these turn of events.

The Silver lining. Raymond is back!

If I may be so bold...

Mayer's Letterman performance was on some shitty shit.

And this EP is really, really good.

http://grahamwright.bandcamp.mu/

I'm posting this again because if I didn't it would be What the Buck! instead.

Happiness is a song about a dog even though I'm a cat person.

http://au.youtube.com/watch?v=FBqpqg16b-4

I promised I'd stop posting about a certain musician, but surely it's okay if I'm appreciating their smarmy and poppy (or should that be 'puppy?) efforts at making a non-Pixar Disney animated movie acceptable.

Palling around with other websites.

-http://www.avclub.com/content/newswire/according_to_tim_kring_the

Tim Kring can eat a dick. Then next week he can go back in time and explain how that dick is special to other dicks and is related to another dick even though such a link seems impossible.

He's lucky that Kristen Bell is on that show and I that I don't have any other way to look at her otherwise I would never watch Heroes again.

Oh wait, I do, and it's called the internet.


Actually scratch
-http://stereogum.com/archives/wheres-the-beef/ryan-adams-disses-rem-the-killers-not-oasis_036761.html?utm_source=bb&utm_medium=mc

Ryan Adams speaks. I swoon and go buy every Oasis CD.

ALSO, POSSIBLE ZINGER OF THE CENTURY:
"What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, unfortunately with the exception of the Killers."

Ha, I sure wouldn't want to be Brandon Flowers right now. Or ever.

Gears of War 2 isn’t the kind of game that’s going to win ten shitloads (or even one shitload) of awards for its story and. I’m sure you agree with me. It’s a perfectly reasonable statement, backed up a gag (that’s still new and original!) about one the best lines of dialogue ever said by anybody anywhere. I mean, when the one of better plot points involves the somewhat interesting death of a nonewhat interesting character who you have no investment in what so ever and if it was a screenplay that he would be called ‘dude who looks gets attacked by elite-looking thing’, then you know you’re in for a story worth hiding from anybody who you think may value your opinion.

Still, I can’t help but thinking that Gears is being a little too harshly treated. Looking at it for what it truly is- a bromance (oh god, I hate that that term, but it perfectly describes it) between Marcus and Dom- it succeeds in pretty much every category. Yeah, it’s not going to win whatever irreverent award videogames are backing as being ‘this year’s Oscars’ but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad story. In fact, I’d go so far as to say it’s good- maybe even verging on great- story.

Now before I go any further, let me make something clear; No, I haven’t just moved into a trailer surrounded by Two and a Half Men DVD’s. But it’s fun to slum sometimes- just ask Guy Ritchie (I’m here all week!), and Gears is the virtual equivalent of the Material Girl.

Here’s the thing. We’re humans, and we like to make reason and find themes in things that we don’t understand fully. Take me for instance, I’m convinced that every girl that’s every smiled at me has loved me, even though it’s probably not true. Or you for instance, you’ve probably taken that fact to mean that I have insane social problems, when in reality I’m just so good looking I just assume that girls want to have sex with me.

I could keep going, but I’ll just get to the point: To realty enjoy Gears of War II I had to stop looking for themes.

See, when you ignore whatever real world conflicts Epic was trying to include in the game (wait a second, so is it the locusts or the humans that are meant to represent America?) and treat it as the videogame of equivalent of a buddy movie, then Gears of War is fucking awesome. Ten. Shitloads. Of. Awesome.

What makes it work are the way that story and gameplay are so closely related. There are never any questions about what exactly what you’re doing/why exactly you’re doing it/ yeah I guess it’s cute but would a 300 pound black dude really use the word ‘horsey’ multiple times?

. If Gears had been a scattered mess of missions that didn’t really work together and had no real story tying them together, then Marcus and company would have been laughably one dimensional. You’d be laughing you would. Instead the story plays out like a crazy homo-erotic roadtrip with four all American (or it’s planetary equivalent) dudes who are opening a can of whoop ass on the ugliest things alive (technically Stevie Nicks is classified as dead, so my point is valid.)

It’s the videogame equivalent of Tango and Cash, and when it’s not in an Xbox 360 you can probably find it drinking whiskey with Charles Bukowski and not smiling at girls even though they’re crazy about them (OMG! Is Marcus made of stone? Show that girl your pearly whites!)

That’s not to say that it’s only worth liking Gears of War II ironically because:

1- That doesn’t even make sense

2- Liking things ‘ironically’ isn’t even liking something, it’s the cultural equivalent of sleeping with a fat girl because all the hot girls have left, but you could like, totally get them if they were still here.

3- Nobody likes people who like things ironically, not even ironically.

All I’m saying is that it’s best to turn your brain off while you play Gears. All I’m saying is that it’s best to play Gears 2 drunk. You can cheer when you’re killing, cry during the two moments when the game really succeeds (you know them both) and forget that Epic is trying to tell you something important.

Hilarious (not really) out of context A.V Club Writer comment of the night

http://www.avclub.com/content/newswire/friday_buzzkills_we_all_want

One such guy was Joe Hyams, a journalist and accidental confidante to the stars who (legend has it) while on assignment covering illegal immigration for the New York Herald Tribune, also managed to rack up interviews with Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall, Katharine Hepburn, Spencer Tracy, and Frank Sinatra in one week. (While we, as total lightweights, require at least a half-day’s prep for 10 minutes with Kristen Bell.)


LOL, I'd only need ten seconds.

Fuck Warm Weather.

Seriously. Fuck it and the Daisy Duke wearing horse it rode in on. My cat hates it, I hate. Nobody likes it except for pretty girls, and only then so they can try and make uglier girls hate summer becasue they can't wear revealing clothes. Fuck Summer.

-I'm considering never using capital letters again so I can be more like Ryan Adams and his blog. I love that guy's music so much I want to make a woman out of it. Hell. He can watch if he wants. There, I said it.

-I'm curious about Kanye West's next CD. A CD full of of Autotune? I admire the dude's hubris/ability/illusion of ability.

-I am now dedicating my life to bringing the stage mannerisms of Craig Finn into everyday life. More on this as it develops. First thing is that sweeping hand motion he does when he say 'dude' during Sequestered in Memphis on Letterman.

-I am going to buy one of those hat's like Conor Oberst wore on Conan. I'm also going to get one of those freakish masks that Conan was wea...oh, you mean that's his real face? ZING! HEY MARGE I ZINGED ZOMBIE CONAN!

-After his upteenth awesome appearance on Letterman I am considering asking Brice Willis to adopt me. Also, why wasn't Jenny Lewis playing guitar when she was on this week?

According to rule 715 (Every girl's hotness is automatically doubled when they play a guitar) that's means that her rating went from a possible 180% out 100% to a smaller 90%.
Also, I'm deducting points for having her douchebag boyfriend there. Seriously, what a dick. That guy is more of a girl than me, and that's including the time my belly button turned into a vagina becasue I forgot to take my hormone pills.

Douchebag.

Still, if was offered a chance to have my way with Jenny but I had to go through him first I would consider it. Maybe. I guess I could close my eyes and imagine him being a more femenine version of Angelina Joile. HAHAHA, Seriously, I'm here all week.

Anyway, my headphones are trapping me so I'm going to write your name over the Savannahs. That's right. Yours! No, I was really kidding. I'm going to write Ryan Adams'


PS: I swear to god this is the last time I'm going to mention Jenny Lewis in a sexual manner on this blog. It's totally not cool- she's a very talented songwriter and it's not her fault I get randy when I drink (here that ladies? Suds me up!). Also, when she says 'Hey Boy' on Carpetbaggers it gives me a bit of a boner. There I said it. But then Evlis Costello starts singing and it's like 'Bro, you're totally killing the mood here."

But she really is talented. I'd kill to be able to write songs like she does.

Lewis/Costello no longer on Letterman- Life possibly no longer worth living.

I miss yesterday, and it fucking kills me. If I could I’d live in some kind of machine where I lived my life backwards. See, I’m always nostalgic for the past, and if I lived my life backwards then I’d be always looking forward to what’s going to happen next (or what happened before, depending on your view). I’d probably be happy until I was fifteen and I started getting nostalgic for being able to buy alcohol (you heard me! It makes perfect sense).

So about six months ago I made an unofficial rule (side note: what exactly is an unofficial rule? And what are my official rules?) that I decided I was gong to try and live my life by: From now on, I’m not going to be nostalgic about things that can be deemed as happening within the current U.S Presidency.

I mean, it’s a pretty simple premise. Most Presidential terms are around eight years (I mean, if Bush can make two terms with his support base then nobody has an excuse), and that’s a pretty good term for the statute of sentimentality to last. So why not combine them? Not only do they go well together, but in the future you’ll be able to back on the Bush years and have a personal connection with them.

So, in lieu of me shouting this from the rooftops, here is a list of everything that I’m now officially allowed to be sentimental over. Think of it as some kind of public service announcement.

My college years (which were mainly spent playing Unreal Tournament over the school LAN, skating and fawning over girls that I *may* have been able to get.)

Good Ben Folds CD’s (Way to Normal? Really? Really?’)

Arrested Development

Veronica Mars’

The OC. Especially the first two and a half seasons. Think everything up to senior prom.

It’s no longer excusable for people to not know that Elliott Smith isn’t alive.

It’s now permissible to say “They don’t make shows like The Wire Anymore”

First celebrity crushes- It was Natalie Portman and I’m not ashamed to say it, that PG-13 Esquire photoshoot changed my life.

Max Payne! Which I’m playing again right now.

Learning to play Mrs Jones By the Counting Crows (which I still probably cannot do.)

Falling in love with the Tondeff song ‘Porcelain’

Becoming totally indifferent to the Tonedeff song ‘Porcelain’

A term when the youth actually knew what the word ‘seedy’ meant. No, my cat does not look seedy

So tomorrow, when that last ballot is cast, when that one last opportunistic ‘Fuck Bush’ protest song is written, it feels a little like the last seconds of my youth will be playing out as well. For better or worse, I’m a product of the Bush years, and even though I was thousands of miles away, he made a man out of me (there has to be a better way to say that). When I entered I was a self loathing fourteen year old with anxiety issues and nobody what he wanted to do in the world, and now I’m a self loathing twenty two year old with anxiety issues and a vague idea on what he wants to in the world.

It’s gunna suck, but maybe I should learn a thing from the Obama camp and try and find hope in tomorrow. If I don’t then I’m going to look like some wacko who thinks that 2000-2008 where the best years of my life ,but it’s probably gunna turn out that way, so I had better just keep my mouth shut and get to work on that machine.

But until then I’m going to put on Dre’s 2001, watch Sarah Chalke’s eventual growth into a fox on Scrubs, and wish I was sixteen again.

Life officially worth living until October Third.

All bets off after that.

Also, Ryan Adams is awesome and I would totally kill for that hair.

LAUREN CONRAD ZINGER OF THE CENTURY!!!!!

Letterman: He just kept on looking at his watch. Like he expected somebody to talk about it.

LC: He ws probably checking his fifteen minutes.

Verdict: I'd hit it if she kept her mouth shut and wrote jokes for me.

Three things

1- When I'm crowned biggest loser in the universe/ ruler of all known beings, I'm going to appoint Brad McKewan and Sandra Sully as my court jesters. Those two are classic comedy, I wish life was like a sitcom and those two would get together. I think they would be so happy together.

Oh god, I'm becoming my grandmother.

2-Problems with this interview:

http://www.avclub.com/content/interview/jenny_lewis

Does not start with "Jenny, your new CD is awesome, how awesome is your new CD?"

Follow up question is not "Jenny, your boyfriend sucks, how much does your boyfriend suck?"

Does not end with Genevive asking "So...Have you even talked to girls over the phone...you know...like that?"

Oh god...Excuse me.

TEN MINUTES LATER

Okay, sorry, I had to...um...feed the cat.


3- Vodka is the only achcohol that smells like Drunkenness. I swear to god.

Brothers in Arms.

Last night I finished Brothers In Arms: Hell Highway. As well as teaching me about how Germany managed to halt the Allied advance for so long (they put thin pieces of tin over staircases and glued doors so they couldn’t be opened. Genius) and containing a level that lived up to the games name (holy shit did that have some atmosphere) it taught me something about myself.



See, 90% of Brothers in Arms was squad combat. More than that, it was squad combat done really damn good. The way the camera zoomed out was very Full Spectrum Warrior, and it wandered that line between shooter and command-based game like its stablemates couldn’t do (seriously, Ubisoft must have a trademark on that genre or something). The tactics the game tries to teach you work, and they make it fun to yell "Krauts in the open! Fire for effect!" like you're actually in WWII, and not some loser yelling at TV at 2.AM

Sure, the story made no fucking sense, but that was because I didn’t feel like going back to play games that were four years old. Instead I just substituted the characters for their Band of Brothers counterparts. The main dude became Winters, the redheaded dude was Nixon (although he got shot!) and the world was happy. They were a part of the greatest generation. The Germans were dead. I had the Band of Brothers game I always wanted.

Things were okay. Right? Right?

No, because videogames –unlike ever other genre of entertainment- force you to consume something that you didn’t pay for.
What am I referring to? The tank missions. The tank missions featuring that stupid Brit.
Okay, so in truth they weren’t that bad. On their own they’d probably be kind of enjoyable. But they weren’t something that I paid $80 dollars for. They were exactly what they were meant to be- enjoyable diversions (and that's my problem).


Yeah, you can say it’s to give me a break from the monotony, but you know what? The game shouldn’t need to be monotonous, and if I feel like I need a break I know where the fucking off switch off.
See developer, you’re not only shortchanging me, but you’re compromising your artistic vision.
Darkness on the Edge of Town doesn’t feature a disco song to break up Springsteen’s take on life for youth in the city. There Will be Blood doesn’t contain a monologue about how zany the oil industry is, because that would be stupid (and totally contrary to what it was trying to accomplish).


So, I guess my question is, why do videogames feel the need to give us things that we didn’t pay for?

I mean, it's obvious that Brothers in Arms is trying to be a gritty look at comradeship and the effects war has on people, so why aren't they communicating that through every aspect of their game?

I don’t mean to be too critical of Gearbox software, mainly because it’s not really its fault. It did most things right, had some great levels, some interesting gimmicks (although I kind of expected the dead kid to flash up on the screen, it was still cool when they actually did it) and gameplay that knocks anything else in the genre out of the park.
It anything, it’s problem endemic in videogames. It reeks of an industry that’s too scared keep a vision cohesive.

You'd be Surprised.

So, the stock markets are in a competition with McCain to see who can hit the ground first!

No, but seriously, it’s been a good day for the McCain camp. First it was ruled that Sarah Palin was innocent of abusing her power, then it was ruled McCain had no role in the Horse of Troy attack. BECAUSE HE’S OLD!

McCain made controversy in the second Presidential debate this week by referring to Senator Obama as ‘that one’. Well, I guess it’s a slight improvement over ‘gook’..

It’s been announced that while Pregnant women may have mood swings and cravings, they don’t become more forgetful. However, it’s been revealed that couples do become forgetful in the minutes leading up to conception, which is the problem in the first place.

Speaking of kids, a new report says that life expectancy for children is decreasing. A spokesperson was quoted as saying that “This was not a legacy we wanted to leave our children.” The good news? If it keeps decreasing then we won’t be. They’ll be gone before us.

It was revealed that the names of 100,000 British servicemen may have fallen into terrorist hands. Still, I wouldn’t worry I don’t think the terrorists were that smart.
Get this, among the names was the revelation that Princes William an Harry reside in Buckingham Palace.

In local news, Kevin Rudd announced that the government was considering bumping the GST up to 12%

Oh, good, right up there with his approval rating,

One Year Old!

Here's an interesting fact: If you assume that each one of my 108 posts is worth 600 KM, then in one year I've created the blog equivalent of the Great Wall of China. This means that in one year my references to self loathing and masturbating to Jenna Fischer have achieved more than one millennia of Chinese dynasties were able to.

How does that make you feel?

In other news, my third album is finished. Yeah, I didn't think you'd care, but this is my space.

Finally: Find the irony in this page. https://ipac.lib.utas.edu.au/ipac20/ipac.jsp?session=12S3X5951429P.88617&menu=search&aspect=basic_search&npp=10&ipp=20&spp=20&profile=cent&ri=&index=.GW&term=copywriting&x=0&y=0&aspect=basic_search

Yeah, I laughed like a drunken sailor. Well, like I was drunk and my hands were full of seamen. I'm Kidding! I never drink on Thursday nights!

FINALLY! SHE AND HIM FANFIC!

The show was over. The fans had retired to post their setlists, and the musicians to their cosy hotel apartments. Zooey squeezed into a tiny black number- so tiny that it couldn’t be considered a number, more like one of those decimal points that go between numbers on a pitchfork review
Her body flowed out of it like a glass of water having an anvil dropped in it.

“I want you M. I want to know everything about you. Your love of demented chords, why you never let me go into the studio when we were meant to be recording the album. What your real name is, I’m sick of calling you M.”

“I can’t Zooey. We’ve discussed this before.”

“But that was different! I’m writing my own songs now. Soon everyone will know!”

“I…I…I..Can’t. It’s too hard.”

Her eyes burnt with the might of a million angry blogposts. He saw it, and she saw him seeing it. It was inevitable that they would end in the throes of passion

She stood in front of him, her nipples showing like Nickels sparkling on asphalt on a really bright day
"Okay" he relented. "But call me Conor."

Family concerned with local mans' obsession to television show.

Relatives of a local man are becoming deeply concerned over their son’s obsession with fictional television show The Wire. Relatives say that their suspicions over the mental health of Sam Burnett , 22 were raised when he watched the first two seasons of the popular detective show over one weekend. “It started innocently enough, he’s always been someone who gets obsessed over TV shows, so I gathered this was just another instance of that” his mother, 48 said earlier this week. However, her suspicions over her son’s mental wellbeing increased when he began acting strongly. “Whenever I’d ask what he wanted for dinner, he’d look at me and say ‘Shot and a Deer, Delores.’” said his mother, “That’s not my name!” She also said his son would walk up to people on the street and start shouting at them. “Got them Red Top’s, Got them WMD’s yall” was the most common stream of nonsensical words.
Sam’s behavior got even stranger; say’s his younger brother Shannon, 19. “I walked past his room the other night and heard him muttering to himself ’I swear if Mculty hurts Amy Ryan I’ll fucking kill him.’, how does that work? Only one of those people actually exists ”
The final straw came when he was discovered intoxicated on Jameson’s whiskey with a knife to his face. “All he was did when he saw us was start yelling ‘OMAR IN THE CUT YO’”
Hopes for his safety were raised earlier this week when he locked himself in his room for ten hours to watch the final season. When he emerged, it appeared that the self imposed exodus had drastic effects. “When he came out of his room, he seemed normal again, you know, he wasn’t talking like one of…those people.”
While things are looking up for the family, the weeks ahead may prove to be rocky ones. Mrs Burnett said even though her son’s Wire marathon had ended, the new season of shows may destroy his tenuous grip on reality. “Supernatural [the television show] has started again, which means that he’s started putting salt over all the doors and windows.” While tales of demons may be disturbing, the real danger lies in a show usually associated with belly laughs. The popular NBC show The Office, and it’s female co-star Jenna Fischer return to screens this week, something that Mr Burnett is overjoyed about. “He doesn’t think that anybody knows about the shrine to her he was under his bed” said Mrs Burnett, “but we do. We all do.”

You, you must be thinking of someone else.

Pop music, like a randy teenager, has always had trouble distinguishing between the concepts of ‘love’ and ‘sex’. Although obsessed with both of them, it can’t seem to decide which one it prefers. For every song that encourages healthy relationships (Clapton’s Wonderful Tonight), there are ones that encourage less healthy ones (You Shook Me All Night Long).

Sometimes the lyrics hardly matter- does anyone care what Rihanna’s Umbrella is saying? Does it even matter when she’s not wearing anything in the videoclip? Rhianna and her succession of thinly veiled -and occasionally not even that-singles are evidence to something obvious to anyone who two eyes and a pulse- singles are the most sexual part of the music industry. Not necessarily in their lyrical content (although the most successful are inevitably the audio equivalent of a ‘come hither’ look), or in the previously mentioned risqué video clip, but rather in what they represent. For the listener, they’re the musical equivalent of the one night stand. There are no explanations, excuses or background information on the encounter. You listen to Umbrella (ella-ella…). Girlfriend, or whatever other piece of tacky piece of guilty joy is clogging the artery of the airwaves, and have a great time. Yeah, the chord progressions have been done a million times, the voice correction is obvious a mile away, but damnit, Katy Perry is talking about having kissed a girl! That means lesbian overtones!

With a single, you don’t expect anything once the song is finished, and the song doesn’t want anything from you. You’re free to enjoy whatever insipidly enjoyable song the music industry churns out next. Now, compare this to the equivalent of a monogamous relationship- the unwavering devotion to a band. While a one night stand with some song might be easy, this one takes hard work- all the CDs (legally bought!), the live bootlegs of their unreleased songs, and even that weird Japanese only release that was on eBay for an ungodly sum.

I’ll put my negatable reputation on the line and say that I’ve done this for three groups- Death Cab for Cutie, Elliott Smith, and Fleetwood Mac- all of which I think of in the most unsexual possible way ever- which from what I’m told, is just like being married.
Contrasts this to the single, where the overall body of work doesn’t matter, just the..um…overall body of the person doing the singing. It’s a facet of the industry that’s founded almost entirely on the sexual tones to the song to sell. Of course, that’s nothing new- conservative ire was raised at Presley over fifty years ago, and nothing has changed. Hell, sexual deviancy is almost expected among our pop stars today. Nobody’s surprised when Britney Spears is caught not wearing underwear. Disturbed- sure, but the surprise ship sailed somewhere during 2002.

So, is music becoming more sexualized, or is the music industry itself becoming more sexualized? Is it becoming more standard to give us, the consumer, a string of songs that are ultimately meaningless?
It seems that –in keeping with this analogy that seems more insane by the minute- youTube- and the internet in general- is becoming the pop culture equivalent of divorce, destroying any chance we have a meaningful relationship with a pop group.
Baring the pseudo cult that’s formed around 70’s rock revivalists The Hold Steady, is it even rational to think that a band could garner such support that a name for their fans becomes commonplace –i.e The Grateful Dead and their Deadheads? Even when something as all consuming and unifying as the internet should support such relationships? Does the concept of loving a band it even matter when there are four minute slices of anonymous happiness waiting for us?

Kanye West arrested at airport.

Apparently tensions started when West was told his ego was too big to be classed as carry on baggage!

No, really it was becasue he alienated the other passengers- on his private plane! HI-YO.

The feud is getting worse though, now the airport has introduced a new seating system dedicated to Kanye: Now it goes: Economy Class, Business Class, and Lack-Of Class!
'
Slightly Worse Ones:

Oh, and now he's thinking of changing the album title to 747's and Heartbreak.

Still, I don't see why he had to be in the airport, I mean, couldn't he have just walked across the water if he needed to ge overseas?

The saddest thing? Kanye West has ruined this day Now we're all going to have the negative association between September 11 and Airplanes.

Note to self: You are not in The Wire, stop using the word 'Police' as a noun.

So, I’m walking along, thinking about why I always open uninteresting stories with ‘so’ and wondering how I can sneak onto Australian Idol and trick that cute redhead into loving me when I notice the new issue of Rolling Stone. Considering I was in a newsagent, this wasn’t a surprise. After all, Rolling Stone is a magazine, and newsagents regularly stock magazines. Truth be told, I was attending the newsagents that day to purchase a magazine. But that was a couple of seconds ago, now I have to somehow indicate my distaste for Rolling Stone before I can move on with my day. Just as I began to raise my lips into my best impression of a condescending smirk, I notice the cover.

Since I can’t find the cover on the internet, I’ll supply you with my recreation:



(said recreation, along with snarky comment)


And my reaction to seeing it.


.001 Seconds: Hmmm,. Maybe if I told her I was an A&R for a record company or something….Hey it’s the new issue of Rolling Stone, what a crock! Allow me to create a dismissive smirk, indicating my distaste for the publication what has never done anything to me.

.005 Seconds: Now, with my eyebrows properly raised, let me use my lips to create aforementioned dismissive smirk….Wait a second, is that Zooey Deshenal (name butchered due to laziness), the She from She and Him? Holy shit, is Rolling Stone’s credibility restored?

.072 Seconds: Now Sam, stop looking deeply into her deep blue eyes, you need to buy this magazine and read about She and Him. Wait a minute, what if the balding newsagent reads my blog? He’ll laugh me out of the store for buying a magazine that I constantly bag. Hmmm, perhaps a plan is in order…

1.29 Seconds: Damnit Sam, I told you to stop looking at her eyes. You need a plan. Maybe you should read the accompanying text. After all, now that they have Zooey on the cover, who knows what they else they’ll have. Maybe an interview with Mark Kozelenk. Or a guide to spelling his last name properly. Or a guide to tricking cute redheads on Australian Idol into liking yo….HEY WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE, THAT’S KATY PERRY! What a fucking crock.

1.42 Seconds: Hey, I haven’t blogged in a while, maybe this could be an amusing anecdote. Damnit, Katy fucking Perry. Damn her and her Cherry Chapstick. .13 seconds later and I still can’t believe it.