Requiem For A Trend

former music bloggers

Well, looks like blogger might be the new internet-ghetto. Many of the people that inspired me to join in on this whole music sharing/festival of verbal onanism have gone on to newer, greener pastures like podcasts, tumblr porn, twit(ter), and other short attention span pandering suck&fuckeries. Posts have been sporadic or non-existent in many of my favorite internet haunts. I get it. I'm part of the problem. Hell, I'm almost too lazy to even embed links in this post. At one point the constant flood of music I was DLing became overwhelming. I just couldn't find the time to listen to all the sick shit people were posting. I still have albums on my HD that I've never listened to. As a silly man once didn't say, "There's more to life than blogs you know, but not much more." Well, I, for one, always enjoyed the flogging of a dead horse (or a dead hooker), so here I am posting without shame. To all those guys who created and contributed to the blogs over there on the right, thanks for all the good times and awesome tunes. I will continue to haunt these pages, and I will never leave you, until I do. For all the people that have sacrificed their time to read my bullshit, and to those who choose to communicate via comments and e-mails, here's a truly heartfelt "Thank you." Also, I'm really stoked to see Jason and Shelby out here on the Big Island real soon. You guys are champions.


And, speaking of champions, here is a truly majestic piece of work by the much-celebrated paragons of getting fucked-up and fucking things up: HICKEY's "US vs. THEM" e.p.  Matty Luv is dead, yeah, but HICKEY is immortal. Ain't nothing in this world makes me happy like a HICKEY record. Matty's mad poetry and  gonzo guitar attack and Aesop's nitro-fueled jalopy pump n' munch drums have inspired many a drunken night's regret-worthy hi-jinx. Great alone or with friends. When is somebody gonna write the book on HICKEY, already? Few bands have ever earned such a wild and debauched (not to mention dumb and crazy) reputation. Aesop said it best, "Hickey is a cult band. When they were around, nobody went to  their shows. Now, everybody says they were there." LONG LIVE THE NAKED CULT OF HICKEY! People are always re-releasing their shit so go and buy some of it. I got the new 2x12" edition of "Various States of Disrepair" with all the extras, and I have already dry humped it twice, built a shrine to it, and stole it a baby; and that doesn't even scratch the surface of its potential.

"Life is cheap, but living is expensive." (DL)

"Thought it was an alien. Turned out to be, just, God"

Positive vibes!

Okay, so I realize that the last couple of posts may have got ya'll down. I know you didn't come here to listen to me whine and proselytize. You've got problems of your own. But, you should know that I am not always such a curmudgeon. In fact, I'm generally quite amicable.  I'm a funny guy and people fucking love me, yo. And so, in the spirit of being not a Negative Nancy, but choosing instead to spread the so-called P.M.A., we'll listen to an album that is on the gentler, happier side of the coin.
Built to Spill has put out enough material and done enough hard work for them to warrant little introduction. But, maybe, like me, you spend most of your listening hours enjoying the audio equivalent of a freight train full of hogs crashing through the backlot of the world's biggest gangbang/orgy whilst the babbling ghost of cracked-out Whiney Houston juggles chainsaws. In that case, study up: Doug Martsch, Tree People, Idaho. Can I still call this Indie Rock, even though it was released on a very Major Label? Well, it's very easy on the ears, and sometimes I just don't need to be fucking screamed at. I guess it's not, technically speaking, a "happy" album. After all, it is dedicated to Pat Brown after his suicide. But it is about as happy as my collection gets. There is definitely a lot of Classic Rock present here, whilst still maintaining that outsider - indie- quirkiness. Pavement meets Neil Young? It's, uhh... great for "mellow" days. Pipe, and slippers, and a cozy spot to relax, mayhaps? It's cool, our problems will wait for us.

"Seeing? It seems minor, to me..."(DL)

American Youth Propose A "RADICAL NEW APATHY!!!"

[A letter from the editor]:
    A new cultural and social movement has been struck up amongst the world's working class, aged 18-35. A revolutionary style of living and interacting with our peers, marked by a total lack of of willful momentum. Teens and young adults of the world's wealthiest nations have never before been more content to sit in our chairs, play video games, and allow fast food and cable television to slowly turn our bodies and minds into toxic mush. It seems that many of the poor have decided to behave just as simply lazy and ignorant as the (Rich, White) powers that be have long proclaimed them to be. People are disheartened because it turns out that less than one percent of the so-called '99%' of the oppressed in America actually showed up to the Occupy movement's protests and rallies. Of that, most  were unemployed and had nothing better to do. Others only showed up on their lunch breaks from menial, low paying jobs in corporate behemoths to eat a Subway sandwich and snap a quick photo with their iPhone to prove that they were "there when the shit went down." It seems that most of us were depending on our friends and neighbors to go down there and get shit done for us. I was hoping for something with a lot more push. It seems that the latest manifestation of our collective anger and resentment towards a corrupt and dysfunctional system amounts to nothing more than typing in all capital letters and adding unnecessary exclamation points when communicating via privacy raping social media. Yelling really loudly about a personal mish-mosh of proto-anarchist tripe whilst guzzling down trendy beer at crowded bars in hip metropolitan areas has replaced any sort of informed political process. Stay indoors. Stay tuned to watch your favorite "programs." Post your every movement to the web. Twitter is the new "News." Your only real "friends" are the ones you interact with the most online or via text message. I, the author, I am only a ghost. Just a disembodied voice composed by a human, but filtered through the circuits and protocols of the machine. I am not even here with you anymore. Moved on. Need I  remind you that every decision you make has power? Reality isn't shaped by intangibles like morals and economics. It is created with every choice we make. Every dollar we choose to spend dictates the operations of the giant global conglomerates. The brand names on our sneakers are written in the blood of decades of cruel labor practices. The meal on our plate is genetically modified, unrecognizable, and probably going to kill us. Our cars, our computers/electronics, and our garbage is fucking ruining the only planet within any universe that we have found inhabited by life as we know it. We, as living thinking humans, are a one in a billion shot, and we are acting as if the threats being waged against our very existence are not dire and immediate. I suppose that this is all some kind of bummer. It doesn't have to be though. The children are not the future, don't leave it up to them. Educate yourself, now in the present. Act according to your beliefs, regardless of public opinion. Establish yourself as model of human excellence by following your passions. Be generous when you can afford it, you'll find yourself with many a helping hand when you are in a pinch. Read books - real ones, printed on paper. Knowledge is truly the greatest treasure one can acquire. Spend time in the real world, preferably outdoors, with people you love. Tell stories. Create art. Spread knowledge through whatever means you find most enjoyable. Write a song that will change the world. Make a stranger smile. Fuck somewhere you're not supposed to. Fight the police. Grow your own food. I for one shall refuse to modify my behavior according to any codes of conduct established by any authority outside of my own intellect and intuition. We already have all the power we need, if we have each other. Fuck the system, but good. - RyGar

(For putting up with me, here's a very funny album by one of my favorite people of all time, Mr. Bruce McCulloch. )

"When you're fat, and alone, and nobody loves you."

(DL HERE)

"I Wanna Piss On You"

Sick fuck.

I am so fucking sick of everything. Sick of bullshit politics. Sick of hearing nothing but lies from mainstream media. Sick of obnoxious drunks. Sick of trends/posers. Sick of feeling disappointed. I'm sick of going to work to serve rich, old, white people food I can't afford to eat. Sick of getting in confrontations with crackheads on the street. Sick of coming home hungry to empty cupboards. Sick of socializing with people who never got past highschool-ish social cliques. Stereotypes make me puke. I am ripe with nausea every time I hear make someone make an ignorant and racist remark. I'm sick of the internet. I'm sick of writing this post. Fuck off, you make me sick.




GG knows. (DL)