(mau) Death Valley Here I Come!

Coachella is here my friends! And this lucky bee will be joining the swarms to infest california's finest polo grounds. Now I know what you're thinking: Susan Bee is going to get so fried from the pot brownies and the karaoke bar's overpriced concoctions that she won't remember the good times. To which I will reply, you don't know me and you don't know Coachella. This ain't your mama's crazy cootch of a Woodstock nor is it the faboulously domesticated heifer of a Bonnaroo.
My fellow buzz brothers could and probably would go all out, however, I prefer to be mildly sober while I engage my senses to a musical feast. I will be your eyes, ears, and wings as I scope the lobe of Coachella's fine and sexy brain. Coachella starts for this little pollinator at 3:00am tomorrow's today and will end Monday night when I return to this boring desert I've learned to resent so much. I've been in the hive too long and now it's time to take a holiday in scorching heat. Mmmm....sounds nice. So cross your antannae and hope that I didn't forget to bring anything important like sunblock or beer.


This is a year is a year among years: GIRLTALK, Manu Chao, the reformation of RATM (for pure nostalgic purposes Marcelo, I know that you've got your powdered nose upturned right now), Jesus and Mary Chain, Grizzly Bear, Roky Erikson, and lord knows I am no fool, look for yourselves, I'm not writing it out.




If some of you dear readers are going, give me a shout(some of you know what this uptown vag looks like )! But if you're not there, it's your own damn fault. You have my condolences for the moment. However, when I see those palm trees in the distance and feel the californian sun hit my vampire flesh, then all is forgotten.
This is my third trek to Indio and like all good bees out there, I wouldn't miss this for the biggest and juiciest orchid you could procure for me.

Good bye my honey producers, my sweet friends of flowers, until we meet again...
-Mauro from the Liquid Mountains

(crs) Do you think she really deserves to wear white?

If there's one thing I'm a huge fan of it's a quality bridezilla. Even though the famous "bride has massive hair wig-out" turned out to be a hoax, it's one of my favorite youtube posts ever. Still, time passes, children get older, and Bridezilla 2 must one day rear her ugly head. Little did I know that it would be Tv On The Radio that took it there first:


Please note the "delicate" fan work, the "tasteful" high kicks, and the "graceful" flourishes of that tattered bath towel she's brandishing. Honestly I've seen fat Mexican strippers perform with more modesty. Her Kenny-G husband doesn't seem all that thrilled either. How long after their honeymoon in Scranton do you think he waited before starting to hit her?

Since I'm an inveterate fan of sham weddings, though, I'm going to have to turn it down a notch. What must have been a side-splitting display in person actually seems very sensitive when chopped up and softened with "I Was A Lover". Thank you, Tv On The Radio, for showing us a new monster, and then making us love her.

-Chris

(crs + mar) Now it's my turn...

It's monday night and Marcelo and I are both tired from work. And how did we end up jamming to these bitches:



Marcelo and I took a little musical journey tonight. Granted, it was briefly and humorously interrupted by watching the most recent episode of 30 Rock, but join us, won't you, on an eclectic walk through all the music you should think is cool these days.

We kicked it off when I dealt Marcy to the new hotness: Coconut Records. It's a side project by Jason Schwartzman, and if you don't listen to "West Coast" you're just never going to understand how bittersweet it can be to leave a lover at La Guardia airport.

From Coconut's "West Coast" we listened to his "Nighttiming" (both available on his MySpace music page) and then Marcy had to kick me back with the new Hot Chip. From there we took the obvious leap to New Order, and jammed to "Love Vigilante" and afterwards reminisced about "Temptation" but refrained from seeking it out to listen to (if we can sing the base and tenor parts to each other a cappella what's the point on wasting bandwidth?). It must be noted, though, that New Order was only the "obvious" choice because Hot Chip has generously mixed a little New Order into their most recent contribution to the DJ Kicks series, and really got us into the mood. As a brief aside, they also worked the hell out of Etta James' "In the Basement", and you're going to die an empty husk of a person if you don't hear how they do before you pass on.

At this point I needed a little smack in the tuchus - mixing the Champagne of Beers and cheap white wine makes me drowsy. Thus, it was Go! Team time - "Huddle Formation", though recently utilized in a Honda Civic commercial, will never fail to bring your glutius to its maximus. A quick departure to "Ladyflash" lead us to the ultimate and inevitable conclusion:

"Supersonic" from JJ Fad.

Fuck me, those bitches can work it. Have you bothered to investigate just how super fly they were way before Missy even coined the term? First, view the video:



Now, let's keep in mind that you didn't know to brush your shoulder off until Jay-Z told you to some time when you were in college: these bitches were doing it sick when you weren't even a year old!

So welcome to a Marcy and Chris Monday night! All you need to do is start with a little ditty from a "Rushmore" alumnus, and before you know it you'll be shaking your ass with the phattest bitches the 20th century ever had the pleasure to witness.

-Chris and Marcy

(crs) Enjoy your drunk friend's ravings vol.6

I slept in a pea coat.
Marcelo laments that none of us remember last night, because apparently we had a hard core hug fest, and there was a lot of positive energy. What I remember is a lot of shirtless dance party, convincing girls that their boobs looked great in the bra they were wearing, and Marcelo dancing in those bras.

I suppose that waking up in a pea coat is better than waking up in my own pee (I will not name names) but nonetheless waking up on a couch that is not my bed in two layers of zip hoodies and my own pea coat does beg the question - why?

Waking up this morning may give a clue as to why last night went as far as it did (no shirts, no heterosexuality, no problem):
"Hey Burns, we're going to the Phi Mu mixer tonight"
A little background - Phi Mu is a sorority at American University and their organization's name is commonly mispronounced as "Phi Moo" due to the heft and disposition of the vast majority of their membership. Furthermore need I add that I'm not in college anymore? Suggesting we go as adventurers to the fat girl party drunk as hell as alumni is tantamount to saying "Let's line up at the Hometown Buffet and put our dick in the mashed potatoes" - it's funny, but the point is probably moot.
To sweeten the pot, after waking me up at a very early three thirty pm to suggest that we make fun of girls that eat their feelings tonight, he hands hungover Chris a Sparks.

Damn.

Whether you have been friends with Chris Burns for years, or are still in the process of making his acquaintance you must know this - in Chris Burns World handing him a Sparks is the same as making him sign his name in blood. Sparks, for the uninitiated, are delightful drinks that are energy drinks tastefully blended with malt liquor. The result tastes troublingly like cough syrup and leads to serious lapses in judgement, so you can see why I'm such a huge fan. It's a canny move on my friend's part because I lack each and every piece of the mental equipment most people possess that would enable them to refuse a Sparks.

Let's keep in mind that I am going to have to work tonight, so blending American Spirits, Sparks, and the booze from last night all together in my tummy is probably a strategic choice that I'll regret very soon, but the question remains - Hometown Buffet?
Probably yes, and I envision it as such - I show up fresh out of work and looking to cut a rug. I grab the first two cows I see and make monster love to them simultaneously on the dance floor. I drink my weight in grain alcohol, fuck a pledge or two, and pass out in a pile of fraternity semen and fat bitch.
Is it worth it?

Ha, of course.

I'll be dead at age 55.


-Chris

(mik) So it goes

This may be the last place you look for current events, but this is drastic enough to warrant a post. Kurt Vonnegut has died, not from smoking Pall Malls his entire life, but from falling down.

So it goes, indeed.

Vonnegut is the reason I read today. After reading Cat's Cradle when I was 16 for a book report or some other nonsense, it was like I was reading for the first time. He was at once infinitely witty, entertaining, provocative, funny, depressing, and outrageous. With the simple drawing of an asshole, he made me see how the world can be so ridiculous and beautiful at the same time.

He has had the same effect on me as hundreds of thousands of other twenty-somethings, and I'm sure they all feel the same loss I do. However, he was 84, and perhaps it was his time. And this gives me an excuse to read God Bless You Mr. Rosewater again.

-Mike

Thought: Perhaps if Vonnegut was the legitimate father of Anna Nicole's baby, he would receive a whole lot more news coverage than he is going to. I'd be surprised if he got 5 minutes on CNN tomorrow.

(crs) Slap me in the goddamn mouth!

I can't believe I'm posting about this today! Jesus Lord help me!
Walk with me, if you will, back to a time before Chris had network cable. Occasionally in High School I would catch an episode of Real World while hanging out at someone else's house, but if I wanted any sort of trashy and vaguely sexually explicit television, I had to settle for Jack of All Trades (hello Bruce Campbell!). Then, I went to check out colleges in California and stayed with some family friends, who put me up for a few nights in a room that had its own TV with cable.
Clearly I immediately tuned in to MTV. What did I find?




A night long marathon of Undressed.


Fuck me, it is the absolute best show I've ever seen in my life. It features a rotating cast of gorgeous twenty-somethings pretending to be high schoolers and college kids who address important issues such as upping one's sperm count, elective circumcisions, and whether blow jobs count as losing your virginity. Of course there are also the "I'm a nerdy girl and I'm sleeping with the football jock" dramas, but as I'm typing to you there's a shirtless hottie propped up on his shoulders with his tuchus in the air practicing keggle exercises.

















That's right - they're re-syndicating the show.

Thank you MTV! The curious and fatuous seventeen year old inside me is singing your praises. Undressed - the acting is always abysmal, but the actors are hot and the plot lines are both absurd and comfortingly predictable.

Really - thank you MTV!




-Chris

(cam) A Frank Evaluation of Rapper Sword Videos on YouTube

At this point, the YouTube phenomenon cannot be ignored. So quickly has their technology of instantaneous video vanquished the pretenders Real Audio and Quick Time that anytime I see the word "Buffering" for more than a split second sends chills down my spine. It is truly an awesome and exciting world we live in when I can, in less than a moment's time, gain access to the video for This is Why I'm Hot.

But even the Mighty Mims, hot though he may be, has nothing on these rappers. Though they have substituted the mine for the ghetto, a rhythmic stomp for electronic beats, and actual rapiers for rhymes, they deserve no fewer "props" for their efforts.

This video claims to be "informative." It is informative in about the same way that fast-forwarding through a National Geographic special while wearing nightvision goggles is informative, but I think it's worth it for the "intergalactic" quotation.


Here we have an actual dance. The shining feature of this particular number is that it's the only video I could find on the entire world of YouTube in which you can hear their feet. The stepping is appropriately loud here, though a bit slower than I'd like. The other thing I like about this video is it looks like a bunch of bar schlubs just got up and decided to do some rapper sword dancing. Most teams are all wiry and athletic looking, but these guys actually look like the might've just got back from a mine. There's a great from-behind shot that showcases their assets. I suppose this might be why they're so slow.


Now this is what I'm talking about for speed. Too bad you can't even really tell how fast they're going because their feet sound like "shff-shff-tap-shff" instead of "bamity bamity bamity BAM" (if you know what I mean). They also get points for having a much more sophisticated repertoire of figures and snazzy-looking vests. I just about voided myself in astonishment during their grand finale. Yet the whole "high school gym basketball court" atmosphere doesn't really do it for me.


This is my favorite one of the bunch. The atmosphere is appropriately pubbish, the speed is great, and you can still hear their feet well enough (though still not as much as I'd like). You also have the guy with the coat and top hat walking around and making appropriately British-sounding comments. He's clearly the star of the show. The only thing I'd change is to give them a more interesting, less "round and round" looking routine.

For the future, you can expect this form of dancing to surge in popularity from its humble YouTube beginnings. By 2009 someone will win the "Dancing with the Stars" competition with a rapper sword medley. By 2011, the sequel to "Stomp the Yard," possibly entitled "Slash the Yard," will focus on the story of a young Northumbrian miner who revolutionizes the rapper scene at Oxford University. Shortly thereafter, a macarena-like rapper crazy will sweep the globe and kids of all ages will carry flexible, double-handled swords with them at all times, should they find themselves in the midst of a dance party with blinding fast jig melodies as the main musical theme.

Mark my words, this will be a thing.

(mar) An Epic Battle.

I just watched this wonderful live video of New York based band Battles peforming their song Atlas:



The footage was taken at one of my favorite sleazy Chicago venues The Empty bottle (I got to see both Deerhoof and Adult. there!). Anyhow, I'd never heard of this band until I saw this video on Forkcast, but I am sold! I love the driving, gritty synth and guitar sounds, the hot and sweaty beat, and the strange vocoded vocals (which kind of remind me of Joe Meek). Their new album Mirrored is due out May 15, and you know I'm gonna get that shit. Also, I think the guy manning the vocals:

Tyondai Braxton is kind of hot, in a Screech from Saved by the Bell kind of way. At least, I appreciate his enthusiasm. Enjoy!

- Marcelo

(mau) The swedes (and one Dane) are taking over...and I like it

My bee buddies are kindly informing moi that I have to stick to the blog. But you know, it's kind of hard to do that when your comp has a mind of its own. My computer hasn't been letting me in on the goods and tonight it finally decided to let me into its nether regions. About time, I say! I have been waiting for this moment foawhile.
I discovered Goodiepal from my boyfriend. Now that may sound like the Danish Karma Sutra to you, honey combers, but it is not. I have no secrets to tell you about that, but I would ask boozy bee if I were you. No, Goodiepal is this Danish wizard, who was once a pig farmer only to become a nurse helping old biddies to their respectable recliner recepticals. His real name is Kristian Vester, but I prefer Goodiepal. He still performs and produces music but is a recluse none the less. He looks like a friar that has had one too many mushrooms trips. He's kooky, he's zany, he may even come to your next birthday party. Goodiepal takes folk music and turns it into a mechanical mistress of the forest. He invents games and machines :everything from a mechanical bird to a game that is played with what looks like 3D copies of the solar system ( he hums and grunts and rings a bell). So strange but really fun to watch! But be warned! you have go through twenty minutes of danish dialogue without having a clue of what's going on to get to the actual mechanical bird and planet camraderie. Ready, steady, Goodiepal!

And now on to the swedes! I love how the swedes and the australians are taking over...it doesn't bother me one bit that have more style then some of our american counterparts. Maybe we can learn something from them, if we are lucky.
Peter, Bjorn, and John are going to be at Coachella this year and I'm so excited. Start salivating or pollinating. If some of you are lucky to be there with me, we should get together and go out of our minds with crazy music and ahem! crazy chemicals. I found this vid and thought it was cute. To see Young Folks animated is really sweet. Hope you enjoy and homage to the monkees.



-Maruski, not to be confused with Helsinki

(mar) Lupine Euphony

These last couple of months saw the releases of a number of powerful and highly anticipated indie albums. Neon Bible, Hissing Fauna and Sound of Silver in particular created a stir in the music world. Of course, I love these albums as much as the next guy, but I can't help but think one of my favorites was a little overlooked. It was featured on Pitchfork's coveted Best New Music, but I haven't heard much about it since! This album is called The Magic Position, by one Patrick Wolf. It follows up his beautiful folk/electronic experimentations heard on 2005's Wind in the Wires, and goes just where he needed to. The album starts with the staggeringly beautiful Overture which showcases Wolf's expressive and sometimes Gothic voice with swirls of strings and ominous percussion. A number of other tracks on the album stand out for me, including the poppy and single-worthy Accident and Emerncy and the epic Bluebells. Each of these tracks is skillfully arranged, and the tracks are seperated by delightful instrumental and electronic vignettes which bring the whole piece to life. However, not only is he talented musically, but this guy has an amazing style! Enjoy this series of glamour shots:



Not since the days of glam has rock been so deliciously tarted up. It's clear to me that the young wolf is channeling Bowie circa Ziggy Stardust. The fiery haircolor and sequins-clad androgyny may be only slightly derivative, but I enjoy the modern twist he's given to them. His strangely mannequin like visage and toy-doll wardrobe only make his sounds more enjoyable. Do check out the song Overture I've uploaded at left in my "Marcy's: What's the Poop?" section. While you're at it, take a moment to visit his Mypsace page to stream a few more noteworthy tunes. And last, but not least, check out Patrick on Welsh pop-star Charlotte Church's variety show doing a cover of Prince's When Doves Cry, it's fun.


- Marcelo

(mar)Hamburger Lady: seconds anyone?

You struggle to focus your gaze, thickly drawing in the feculent perfume of tobacco and sweat. Warmly alien beeps and drones, filtered through strange analog devices drive you through the haze, your body convulsing involuntarily to the eldritch beat. Agonized bodies urgently press against you, and just as quickly are sucked back into the maelstrom. You know not what has brought you here, only that you must never stop moving as the night vanishes around you, a fevered phantasmagoria. In the end, there is only darkness, and the pervasive feeling of having been irreversibly violated . . .

That's right, guys! Throbbing Gristle's first album in 25 long years, entitled Part Two: The Endless Not has hit the shelves as of April 1st! (Sorry for not posting about it sooner, but I had to give it a good listen first) The late seventies pioneers of Industrial music and notoriously shocking performance art troupe have gathered once more to unleash their anguished sounds upon an unsuspecting public.
This album returns with their signature sound, the first track, Vow of Silence, being a fascinating collage of shouts, clanging, gear-grinding and otherworldly chanting. Another noteworthy track is the beautifully seductive Rabbit Snare, featuring sultry jazz piano accompanied by Cosey Tutti's improvisational trumpet playing set to the beat of industrial percussive Drones. The wonderful Genesis P. Orridge lends her unusual vocal talents. While not necessarily for the casual listener, it's great to see the old masters doing it like they do. Thanks guys!

And for good measure a quick (and more listenable) throwback track: Throbbing Gristle - Hot on the Heels of Love

- Marcelo