Infantilism

2005-10-01T17:42:00.000-07:00

This asshole is playing outside my house right now. I hate him and you should too.

I'm in my living room right now and I hear this motherfucker's concert at the park across the street from my house loud and clear.

He's supposed to represent Miami and being Cuban to the mainstream people who buy rap sung by minorities they do not belong to. He sucks.

His first cd is called:

"Money Is A Major Issue." It sucks.

His second CD, dropping November 1st, is called:
"Money Is STILL A Major Issue." This name sucks. It's worse than "Playstation 2."

Wait, I just heard his new single "Shake." It sucks.

2005-10-01T17:11:00.000-07:00

It's a fine time of the year for music.

It's even okay to live in urban-suburbia Miami, given the greatness of the fine folks at Sweat Records and their ability to have great music and attract the kind of talent that usually doesn't look this far south.

Their recent MIA show was surprisingly good, even in the relatively uncomfortable I/O outdoor patio. Thanks to a far better Ms. Arulpragasam than I caught at Coachella earlier this year. And if you're real close, you realize that she CAN dance. It's kind of a subtle thing, and it makes her hot.
October 4th nears

and this means the official release of three of my favorite records this year:

My Morning Jacket - Z
This is my favorite record of the year. My Morning Jacket has always been pretty awesome in my book. It Still Moves with all it's Radiohead and Neil Young yelling at a each other down a long metal hallway action was one of my favorite albums of 2003. Even still, this is album is much, much more than I ever expected MMJ was capable of. Trading their trademark twin-twangy V-shaped guitar assaults for dynamic and building multi-instrumentalism that layers engaging electronic flourishes with a reverb rehab'd Jim James taking his finicky falsetto on a psychadelic mountain-climbing expedition in Switzerland. "It Beats for You" is seriously the best song I've heard all year.

Broken Social Scene - S/T
After borrowing Bee-Hives and Feel Good Lost, who both had really, really strong amazing songs, but were as focused as a bong-fueled study session, I was pretty excited to get my hands on the proper sequel to You Forgot It In People, easily one of the best records of the first half of this decade and the real ambassador to subsequent barrage of Canadian Indie masterpieces being cranked out of the great white north like clockwork. After catching BSS at the Bowery last fall and coming to terms with the fact that a normal BSS song like K.C. Accidental requires at least 8 or 9 people on stage, this strange beast of a record makes much more sense. It sounds like BSS did some soul searching and wrote a memo on what exactly a well respected, ever-changing ensemble, who pretty much wrote the book on the undefinable "indie" sound could get away with. It sounds like 10 people who were independently told to play really dope music at the same time and did it until the sounds organically evolved into rewarding, intense songs, that sprawl into one another endlessly.

Danger Doom
Danger Mouse has proven himself the most reliable person to cash into his own hype in a long time. I don't have a clue how The Grey Album hinted at the slick, indirect genius of his productions for Murs, his Gorillaz work and this collaborative bomb (in a good way) of a hip hop record. The Mouse's funky and polished cohesiveness pulls a Pepto Bismol coating on Doom's trademark, coherent flow and gives it a shiny dancefloor to show off on. Both seem absorbed in a deconstructive work ethic that multiplies itself with the presence of another perfectionist. And as for the Adult Swim garb, it's as amusing as you might expect, but the hip-hop is ultimately too engaging to pay much attention to it.

You absolutely CANNOT get the Torrent link to the advance webrip of Danger Doom by clicking on the proceeding link: http://www.torrentspy.com/search.asp?mode=torrentdetails&id=373779&query=Danger+Doom+

2005-10-01T10:45:00.000-07:00

Well, then, 14 to 15 clicks later, here I am, with a blog named by the cunning observative wit of an Op-ed writer for the Minneapolis/St. Paul publication, "City Pages." (http://www.citypages.com/databank/26/1281/article13437.asp)

This doesn't mean I think the topic of "male infantilism" and it being a reoccurring theme in some of our most heralded contemporary Storysmiths' work is an idea revolutionary enough to start a blog about. Fuck, it doesn't even mean I totally agree with him (Oberst and the whole "I hate my ex-girfriend" 'emo' movement, hell yes. Anderson, to some degree, but that feels more like pigeonholing.)

It's just something I read a good month or two ago, probably on Stereogum (www.stereogum.com), that penetrated my phospholipid membranes just memorably enough to cloud my judgements on every piece of pop-culture or hokey sociological pattern I've dealt with since. And thanks to every demographic imaginable suffering from an upsurge in the need to catagorize, interpret and neatly organize everyone's memories (Scrapbooking, Meta-blogging, Best Week Ever), I unwantingly think about infantilism a lot.

I'm 20 now, and given that even Tyler Durden's generation of men raised by women outdates mine, I think the most accurate thing I can say about my generation is that we're a bunch of pussies. We don't like fighting, don't like our president, don't like the music on the radio, don't graduate college, don't want to move out, don't really know how to pull off monogamy, don't have the attention span to watch TV like normal people and resort to Tivo or DVD, couldn't finish a book for the life of us, don't want to have kids till we're like, older. Not neccesarily drowning in our inability to grow up, but yet becoming this hybrid of hyper-informed, trendy nerds who obsessively dwell on things that used to matter to no one but kids and losers.

Somehow still a pussy and a loser.

Furthermore, this magnificent internet has provided us folk with the tools to intermingle on a stupidly gargantuan scale and successfully never deal with anyone who isn't of a like mind.

So here are we are: elitist, xenophobic geeks, subject to one another's influence to such a naive degree that something interesting has to happen at some point or another.