The Shooting Wednesday : Pleasure Affair

Buenos Ares - "Nie będę"

shampoo vidéo

l’electro-bodymusic

The Errors

remy et donatien

The Birthers: S/T

The Birthers are an American pop music band that was founded in 2008 in order to perform during presidential campaign rallies of Hillary Clinton. The band broke up after Clinton failed to get the Democratic nomination. However, the band soon reformed with a new group of musicians devoted to the McCain/Palin campaign.

Most critics panned the band's music as a throwback to earlier sounds of the 1950s and 1960s, such as Pat Boone and Mitch Miller. In spite of poor reviews, the band's albums continued to sell to largely white, Midwestern and Southern audiences.

By late 2010, it was clear that The Birthers had carved out a niche in the music industry. They marketed their recordings as being "performed by real Americans" and included copies of band members' official birth certificates in all of their recording packages.

The band's single Show Us the Birth Certificate reached #3 on the Billboard Top 40 chart in February 2011. In March of that year, billionaire reality TV show star Donald Trump selected the song as a potential 2012 presidential campaign theme.

fugaz, lugar

" fugaz, lugar"

Pamela Banuet-Martinez / Diana Magallón

View of the Weekend Trio

a private dampness

Acid Queens

Nikołaj Rimsky-Korsakow - Lot Trzmiela

dejavu

coming soon...
 the video dejavu from the surreal suspicion series.

triple mystery video: horse vanishing style, 
includes two more videos, clandestine, and visceral.

On recherche des artistes solidaires ou des tableaux...

On recherche des artistes solidaires ou des tableaux...

claeso

sprinkle against mood

ah, the sweet sounds of twee pop in the morning...

chrysostome

signalism

unrealty

Pasternak

Though evidence of a warmer season has finally begun to show, I find myself drawn to the stark, cold sounds of Pasternak. If there were one band, or album, let’s say, that resonates with me most—containing or exhibiting all the elements of sound and visions that I pursue—it would be this album from this band. However, “band” may be a misnomer in Pasternak’s case. Pasternak consists of one individual (unnamed) and a rotation of friends that visit becoming part of his project. (This I’ve gleaned from the linear notes.) What it is that I am particularly drawn to, perhaps, is impossible to say—or I simply lack the ability or a language to articulate what it is I am attracted to. Lyrically, there is a hermeneutical preoccupation to this work that—combined with music/sound both coarse and banal—makes something of raw beauty. Perhaps that is all I get. Perhaps that is all I really need. I suggest that if this album finds you, let it into your world.

Galactic Jazz

A partial examination of the extensive recordings done at Freddy Saturn’s “Liftoff!! Lounge” in Titusville, Florida. Produced by legendary sound engineer Junior Bezerkley, tracks on this album include the Liftoff!! Lounge house band’s immortal rendition of John Lennon’s “Universal Whore”, the SkyFairies’ forty-three minute fusion opus, “Fuck me Baby to Pluto and Back!” and the always creative Willy, “I’m not insane, I’m just off my meds”, Valentine doing his jazz interpretation of Gustav Holst’s “Jupiter Suite” on solo nose flute.

10392 Brace

. . . .

The Wild Horses

Fall in Red by the Rappells

the inspectors: modern living

Blundar and the Rockin’ Barbarians

The strange story of “Blundar and the Rockin’ Barbarians”

A metal techno-punk group that appeared out of nowhere in early 2009 and who released only one record, “Pillage and Plunder” in March of that year. It was released on vinyl and met with some critical success. The band played small venues throughout Europe from May through early July. Fans were especially amused by the band’s Bass player as the musician appeared to be a floating robot bristling with weapons. Described by the band as an advanced holographic skin the weapons did appear to work whenever overly curious fans attempted to get too close to the Bass player. The resulting lawsuits limited the band’s performance options until the band was offered to head-line a big rock concert in the home town of one of the band’s performers, Atilla the Honey. What happened at the concert is open to some dispute but there can be no doubt that the band, “Blundar and the Rockin’ Barbarians” are no more. What follows is the initial press release:

Tragedy and Shock in Błåwscöw

Dateline: July 28, 2009 Błåwscöw, Georgia Republic

Shock and horror occurred at an outdoor rock concert near the picturesque town of Błåwscöw when and estimated crowd of 15,000 happy concert-goers were robbed and terrorized by what eyewitnesses describe as human pirates and floating robots who disembarked from a UFO. Authorities have been quick to denounce the UFO allegations as the drunken ramblings of shocked citizens but there is no doubt that a massive robbery took place. Queries that authorities confiscated the few remaining cameras and cell phones that had not been taken by the thieves has been met by stony silence. Even more puzzling are accounts that the head-line band, Blundar and the Rockin’ Barbarians, participated in the massive robbery and fled with the pirates on the alleged UFO. A Europe wide warrant has been issued by Interpol for the band members but so far no arrest has been made.

blank stare

he stood against the light

the corner of Lacan and Laconic

where Pop deflates

beautiful and cruel

cerebral and raw

BWB

Twitter. Twitter. Twitter. First let me start by saying that rap isn’t my thing—wait, “ain’t”… anyway. Aside from Public Enemy and the Beastie Boys I’m at a loss. So I may not be the best critic. Now, I won’t say much other than I revel in a secret joy listening to this, albeit horrible and talentless album, by the Bored White Baristas. Think what’s his name in Office Space rolling up the window so the African American guy outside couldn’t hear what he was listening to. I look for excuses to run errands, and take the long way even, so I can crank this one with the windows rolled tightly up. It’s all kinds of wrong—like bacon in a scone—but there I am: loving it (or at least the idea of it as in the latter case). Yes, judge this one by its cover (WTF?). Sour C H and his crew—Real Rough Jeffrey aka Shady Punch and Sarah Fresh—don’t deliver much other than 80% “nerd rap for coffee shop chicks and white dudes” but shit I fit the bill so what can I say. Still underneath it all pumps a raw aggression and left-wing politic surrounded by a sly comedic sound. Sour claims to be the best white rapper in Kitsap County, so a whole slew of holier than thou purists snicker under their breath and dismiss him out of hand almost immediately. I can relate, but the irony of BWB is that one would think these lo-fi rappers du jour were being ironic when they’re actually deadly serious. This fuels their incredible perseverance to play show after show and survive the beat downs. Well time to go to Home Depot for some “nails”…

sad bastard on a sunny day

Few areas of the world have been as exciting to watch as the experimental community in Poulsbo, WA over the past half decade. What was originally dominated by Christian Rock and Nordic folk has slowly transformed into a sea of post-rock, ambient, and electronic artists, exposing a magnitude of creative musicians. “Sad Bastard on a Sunny Day" is the self-titled sophomore EP from one such talent, Bani Char and his collective alliance. The albums lethargic yet intricate sound could (at times) be described as “molasses pop” however it never hedges into being trite or self-conscience as so many other bands do. This is done via sincerity and a broad musical palette that incorporates spiraling tape loops, fizzing electronics, ethnic percussion, cello, and musical saw. Best listened to while sipping an americano by Liberty Bay.

one wreck at a time: crashing the school bus

cult house

let me sleep in your crystal kitchen

pre dawn

art crime bulletin

green rain

mYND eRASER

kept people: polyphemus healed

lead hoof

wizard nemesis

the mighty wow wow wow

ray's r

cIclo

Silvio Prado

Rob Costlow - Down the Road

bezondz

thornbed

later than late