Archive for January, 2009

Grizzly Bear vs Feist: Service Bell

Dark was the Night released their fifteenth song today.  The focus of the campaign that features musicians ranging from Beirut to Ben Gibbard and Sufjan Stevens to Spoon, is to raise awareness of HIV and Aids.  The compilation will be available in digital, double CD, or triple vinyl and will be available in North America February 17, 2009.  Today, the anticipated release of Feist with Edward Droste and the rest of Grizzly Bear in tow performing Service Bell has spread quickly over the music blogosphere.  And for reason too, its damn good.  Check this and a couple others I included:


1 Knotty Pine – Dirty Projectors + David Byrne
2 Cello Song (Nick Drake) – The Books featuring Jose Gonzalez
3 Train Song (Vashti Bunyan recorded, written by Alasdair Clayre) – Feist + Ben Gibbard
4 Brackett, WI – Bon Iver
5 Deep Blue Sea – Grizzly Bear
6 So Far Around the Bend – The National (arrangement by Nico Muhly)
7 Tightrope – Yeasayer
8 Feeling Good (popularized by Nina Simone) – My Brightest Diamond
9 Dark Was the Night (Blind Willie Johnson) – Kronos Quartet
10 I Was Young When I Left Home (Bob Dylan) – Antony + Bryce Dessner
11 Big Red Machine – Justin Vernon + Aaron Dessner
12 Sleepless – The Decemberists
13 Stolen Houses (Die) – Iron and Wine
14 Service Bell – Grizzly Bear + Feist
15 You Are The Blood – Sufjan Stevens

1 Well-Alright – Spoon
2 Lenin – Arcade Fire
3 Mimizan – Beirut
4 El Caporal – My Morning Jacket
5 Inspiration Information (Shuggie Otis) – Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings
6 With A Girl Like You (The Troggs) – Dave Sitek
7 Blood Pt 2 (based on original song “You are the Blood” by the Castanets) – Buck 65 Remix (featuring Sufjan Stevens and Serengeti)
8 Hey, Snow White (Destroyer) – The New Pornographers
9 Gentle Hour (Snapper) – Yo La Tengo
10 Another Saturday (traditional song) – Stuart Murdoch
11 Happiness – Riceboy Sleeps
12 Amazing Grace (traditional song) – Cat Power and Dirty Delta Blues

13 The Giant Of Illinois (Handsome Family) – Andrew Bird
14 Lua – Conor Oberst + Gillian Welch
15 When the Road Runs Out – Blonde Redhead + Devastations
16 Love vs. Porn – Kevin Drew


Tax the Wolf

Tax the Wolf has been playing in Houston for a year now, under the name Wolves at the Door. Near the end of their reign in their hometown as Wolves at the Door, Tax the Wolf released their latest CD, a collection of live recordings pulled from their practice sessions over the year which can be picked up for free at their website or at one of their shows. They have played over twenty gigs with bands like The Mckenzies, The Wild Moccasins, and Female Demand.

Tax the Wolf :: Merkexlla

Tax the Wolf :: We’ll See :: KTRU live
Tax the Wolf :: Dead


4th edition of Weekly Writing Submissions

We’re Road-Kill Tonight
by (did not leave full name)
The fruits were throbbing erect and spastic in their crimson bounds.
Nourishing one another while irrelevant to life through their own eyes, lunging their baron blades of envious glory and convoluted distress.
We arrived there together ready and willing to die, feeling vain with our souls fed to Satan to die this time around.
The silvery seasonal moon masked a murderous tone, as azure hues and auras flagrantly shown. Gently, masking our dismay wrought by a righteous mans rue.
We knew. Nothing is.
That confederate man was a broken record pounding away on his crippled snare. And I but a flesh trumpet singing and spewing fourth reason for treason.
We could hear the steaming lesions.
by Alma Cynthia Verdejo
The dark hand clawed through the twilight sky. It was large, looking
like an abysmal black hole, the ones that are usually consuming the
edges of galaxies. Scientists say that there is one at the edge of the
Milky Way, slowly ingesting massive and insignificant stars – unless
one of those stars was a planet's sun – and its ravenous appetite
never seemed to cease. And this other black hole, sliding through the
sky didn't look like its appetite was ceasing anytime soon.

The young boy played in the cemented backyard of a two story home,
invested and involved in the mechanical car that his mother had
purchased for him just the day before, a Sunday. "It's your Christmas
present," she'd told him, her comforting and yet sharp voice cutting
through the air after they'd arrived from the shopping center, the one
that local businessmen had promised they would fix up, making it the
center of any suburbanite's dream. Of course, they hadn't.

Whether the inaction was in response to a hurricane that had torn
through the city a few months ago, or because the economic downturn
had made their bulging pockets sag, empty and desolately sad, it was
never answered. Instead, the only major store housed in the shopping
center had been shut, cardboard signs haphazardly plastered on the
doors with crude, handwritten messages of "Indefinitely shut down."
The little boy remembered that they were in some red marker, maybe
even lipstick but wouldn't lipstick smudge? He wouldn't personally
know but he'd seen his sister and his mother's lips smudged after a
night out.

But the present hadn't been opened on Christmas. Instead, it had been
opened minutes after they had arrived at the house. Now he ran around
in his Santa red pajamas, decorated with tilted white construction
trucks and orange basketballs. He knew it was an odd combination but
then again, he'd always been odd, and truth was, his mother never
asked his opinion on any of his clothes. He wondered if that would
change with age. After all, his brother and sister had gained their
clothes ware independence at what? Nine? Yeah, it was nine; the same
age he was.

The darkness clawed again, surfing in from the north, in response to
the boy's thoughts. It was as if the boy was feeding it, through no
conscious decision of his own. Continuing to play with his remote
controlled car, he led it zigzag over the pavement. The little
fluorescent headlights shone pearly blue in the creeping darkness,
attracting the attention of his mutt, who sniffed at it before
trotting away.

It was interesting to see that the dog hadn't reacted to the
approaching arm of voidness heading towards them. Weren't animals uber
sensitive, so much so that they could sense danger miles away? But she
didn't react, and this did not bode well for the little boy. After a
few minutes of playing in the paved yard, running from side to side as
he forced the car to lead or be led by him, the dark arm shot out and
grabbed him. Wrapping around his little form, the arm held on tightly.
The little boy flailed his tiny legs, torso jerked back and the head
jerked forward. The wind was knocked out of him but whatever he
couldn't convey in words, he conveyed in facial expressions. His eyes
widened, his little mouth formed an O and before the darkness dragged
him away, he screamed. His dog reacted but it was too late, he was
already gone and all could be heard was a fervent barking and a
passing ambulance on the main street. And, of course, the little
remote controlled car running off the pavement onto the wilting grass.

Wild Moccasins CD Release Show

Lately, The Wild Moccassins have been relentlesly playing show after show, gaining fans and even landing a spot on SXSW. Their long-awaited CD release show is this Friday at Walter’s on Washington. For a measly seven bucks, you get to see not just the Moccasins, but Buxton, Teenage Kicks, and DJ ADR too! Not to mention free cupcakes, pizza, silk-screening (BYOShirt), free concert posters, and a copy of their new CD, “Microscopic Metronomes.” Get there early, ’cause it’s while supplies last. Don’t forget to check them out on KTRU 91.7 tonight.


3rd Edition of Weekly Writing Submisions

I Love the Smell.


Lane Hendricks

I love the smell. The smell of my gym shorts left over from high school.

There are no great memories from them that the smell brings back.

The smell is not reminiscent of good times.

However, there are no bad memories that come racing back either.

In fact, the fact that this particular pair of shorts came from my years in high school has

Nothing to do with my reason for loving their smell.

You must be informed that I typically don’t wear underwear.

Underwear of any make

Or model is annoying, cumbersome,

And they tend to get disoriented in my pants

Like a wondering merchant in the desert. So where does this smell originate?

I love the smell of my gym shorts left over from high school

After many nights wearing them.

After many nights my urine has created a slight stench of sitting,

Begging for more alcohol to be pissed out.

After many nights my precum has left small white stains on the inside.

These stains are reminders of the pretty girl from last night.

Was she pretty?

I don’t really remember because I drank to much alcohol

Which is why my gym shorts left over from high school smell of urine.

Did I mention I rode my bike to the party?

The smell of sweaty genitals is never duplicated and never mistaken,

Like the unmistakable smell of pancakes on a Sunday morning.

The smell of my gym shorts left over from high school.



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