Slide Away (1994) :: Oasis
I know Blur was always the ‘smart people’ choice (and I did adore Graham Coxon), but even if it permanently labels me an oik on the inside, I’ll always love Oasis more.
No way dude, here’s the mid-nineties Britpop breakdown as I see it:
Meanwhile, Oasis were the simple, soaring voice of the people. Their lyrics didn’t mean shit but man could those dummies write a tune, and Liam was a sexy motherfucking frontman given to insulting his fellow musicians with perfect, polished gems such as (about Thom Yorke): “He can fuck right off. I’m not having him. I don’t like his head.” WHAT MORE COULD YOU WANT IN A POP STAR?
And if you liked Menswear,
Sleeper [EDIT: Sleeper were alright!! I must have been thinking of Ruby or something], Kenickie, Whiteout, Shampoo, or Ocean Colour Scene, I was laughing at you. Hard.
(Buuut if you liked Geneva, Super Furry Animals, Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci, Gene, or Longpigs, they were fucking ace, and I was also at that gig with you and 5 other people.)
Oh hey look, it’s my girl Lee Morse singing “It Ain’t No Sin to Take Off Your Skin” (and dance around in your bones).
May I humbly suggest this song as the soundtrack for the next Loved One video lookbook? May I also humbly suggest that I model in the next Loved One video lookbook?
Seriously Hannah, call me, all I do is lay around in my underwear all day anyways! I could go so Method on this. ;)
(via Miss Peelpants)
Click through for more incredibly creepy photos of mixed-sex groups enjoying vinyl (the kind with music on it, you depraved cretin).
So this is pretty hot.
Pianist Glenn Gould soaking his hands in the sink to limber up his fingers before performing. He starts with lukewarm water and gradually raises the temperature to hot. (by Gordon Parks for LIFE)
Vintage Birthday: Dusty Springfield - April 16, 1939
She made heartbreak sound so sweet. I’ll always love Dusty.
I’ve been trying to get a boy to go for Halloween with me as Phil & Ronnie since I was 17, to no avail. Whatta buncha chumps! All they’d have to do is wear a suit and be on my arm while I looked like this!
Bear with me for another music post? My roommate Trav just turned me onto these guys and I’m so into it. Listen to these gentle lulling sounds, nice cozy Rhodes piano in the background, and a little atonal breakdown just to keep it interesting. Other songs are more frantic, No Wave-y, with vocals that you’d swear were Grant McLennan from the Go Betweens. Beyond solid.
By the by, if you feel like following some solid music blorgs, I highly recommend my buddies Travis/mentalreminder and Benoit/bunnyriver. They won’t clog up your dash with a bunch of dumb ol’ superfluous junk (GUILTY), they’ll just gently hip you to awesome music that you can’t believe you’ve never heard before, and they are also amazing musicians in their own rights. Follow follow!
essendon airport - how low can you go… ?
caught this band through an australian post punk comp called can’t stop it! II that rounds up a bunch of obscure late 70s - early 80s bands. after hearing their song i feel a song coming on (here’s a snippet on last.fm) i had to check the rest of their stuff out. i grabbed the newly (well, 2003) reissued sonic investigations (of the trivial) off of itunes (instant gratification). the whole record isn’t really too post punk but more minimal compositions. i’m really excited about this find and addition to my library.
I don’t post much about music on here because that shit just doesn’t get the notes like pretty girls in clothes do. But here’s a track I really like right now, Mr. Magic’s “Magic’s Message”. It’s sort of a low-rent “White Lines” / socially-conscious rap, but it’s that totally adorable earworm of a hook that gets me every time.
My roommate’s always playing him when we’ve got company over. I think that possibly my roommate doesn’t like company.
Michael Gira! As if I needed another reason to visit Barrington St…
Dude, you and Trav can get all morose ‘n’ stuf listening to this dude talk about doing it in the aftermath of car crashes (JG Ballard much, snoooorrre), I’ll be upstairs in my bedroom blissin’ out to King Tubby records, sippin’ on some Brugal, thanking Jah for wonderful rhythms and mangoes.
Unrest — “So So Sick”
I listened to this song for the first time in 15 years on Sunday, and now it’s the soundtrack to my every waking moment. Watch it, and in less than two minutes you too can become one of the legions of bitter Mark Robinson fans [that’s him at 1:24, not the hot blonde boy] moaning about how he never got the credit he deserves.
So, not that you are lazy at all, totally not, in fact I heard you work super hard and hardly ever even take a cig break, but here’s that Arthur Russell vid from that last post in case you’re too… um, busy to click over.
Just Arthur, a mike, and his cello. It’s so unbelievably cute when he’s singing about the baby lions, but then all of a sudden he’s sing-song purring the words:
“Answers me, answers me / What he says answers me…”
and it’s almost enough to make you cry.
I think that “experimental” is one of the most misused/overused words in music. It’s not a style, it doesn’t have to mean noisy or self-consciously “weird” or off-putting, and it sure as shit isn’t shorthand for a bunch of dumb college boys who read on Pitchfork that there was this neat way they could get around the fact that they couldn’t be arsed to learn their instruments. The best kind of “experimental” music is made by someone who could just as easily have made classic pop songs, as Arthur did for years during his folkie phase (and I’m telling you, even his Paradise Garage-era disco singles contain some of the world’s most perfect 2-minute love songs in between the dated cowbells, diva vocals, and Chicago house breaks [click the link above, listen to 3:30 - 5:30 and tell me I’m lying!]).
But eventually he found that the standard pop music vocabularies no longer stretched to contain the worlds inside him, and it’s at that moment that his music became what is so pretentiously called experimental. Fine, I can accept that usage, but I do reject the notion that it’s anything to be overly impressed by. Too much breath is wasted on words like “art” and “avant-garde” and “experimental”. Who cares? It’s just another language for another thought, as Arthur might say. And the best part is that Arthur makes this sonic world he creates and inhabits sound so natural, so soft, lived-in and welcoming. A tender, sighing universe for the millenial romantic!!
He is that rarest of things, a completely unpretentious genius. I love him so so much.