Archive for January, 2010

Les brunes comptent pas pour des prunes – Lio

It seems strange to me that brunettes should need a rally song, but here it is. I realise this song is reportage from a specific point of neglect and overlook, but my own divorced experience and why-not-me sigh makes me feel it is i who should have my own rally song to sing back, louder and with more spite.

In the pecking order of hair types, starting from underneath, it goes: no hair, red, blonde, then every other happy, well adjusted, beautiful person. For as long as i stretch this ever long period of denial that i belong in that first group, i fit into the blonde one – unhappy, without, longing, painfully aware the grass is always browner on the other side of the fence.

It seems odd that Lio should ever feel as lacking as i do, or see blonde hair to be the publicly (espescially men) held height of hair colour, but here you go. We all have our moments of inferiority, i guess. I’m still waiting for my song though.

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We put the spring in Springfield – Residents of Springfield and Employees of Maison Derrière

Morals and ethics and carnal forbearance….

eugene and rusty

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A pretty girl is like… – The Magnetic Fields

I don’t this is that highly regarded a 69 Love Song. I don’t know why – i love it, my girlfriend even moreso. I can see how it is jarring, but i think any hint of detraction i get is mostly me reading the opinions of people i should never pay mind to. If ever an album made itself prone to lists, it’s this one. If ever an album was made of indispensable and unhierarchical material, it’s this one.

wethot american summer

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Half The Population

Half the population – I Spy

I remember aaaaages ago having the first few lines of this song as my handle on MSN and having someone call me out on it, suggesting to me that i change immediately such emo posture and mindset. Oh, if only it were that simple. The lyrics and message of this song i mean, not the ability to change personality (also not very simple).

We (Independent Thought Alarm) are playing a show tonight at Jura bookstore (440 Parramatta Road, whatever suburb that stretch of Parramatta road lies in [either Lewisham, Petersham or Stanmore]), and coincidentally are covering this song. Come along and see us ruin it, yet align ourselves outright with every sentiment of it.

nights o cabiria

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Less chat, more sewing – Street Chant

\ˈstrēt chänt\

This is one of those songs where the chorus is so, so good and you want so much for it to come back again – it should come back again, all pop sensibility and appeasement of the listener demand that it come back again – only to find, after the breakdown, after every other great direction the song goes, at the perfect moment, it just ends. Ugh. There’s a button that looks like this: |<<. This is probably my favourite Street Chant song.

king rollo

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Firecracker – Frail

Last night a friend of mine posted a clip of Hatebreed, captioned “East Coast Hardcore” and i posted this video in reply.

I don’t know if it was stupid to do so or not. It wasn’t meant to better him, to offer a more venerable and… cultivated option, to say “you’re music is dumb, here’s what i think is superior”. No. He very well may not think Frail an antithesis to that at all, let alone Hatebreed its thesis. I don’t know why i did it. It was just to get Frail out of my head and perhaps into another’s (or to whatever effect), as an opportunity arose. Is Philadelphia even considered East Coast?

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Run To The Hills

Run to the hills – Iron Maiden

I watched Flight 666 before going to bed last night. Basically there are a whole bunch of Iron Maiden songs in my head right now, but this is the one i remember waking up with. It was actually a pretty great movie. Iron Maiden constructed a touring method via private jet (a Boeing 757! So a private twinjet) and family-like road crew, and thus could tour places they haven’t played for sometime (such as here in Australia [ugh, why didn’t i go?]) or ever before (like Costa Rica and Columbia). This is where things got poignant.

Like ridiculously poignant. Like affirming a life spent with music poignant. Watch the crowd at their Columbia concert remain in place long after the band has left, tears flowing in uniform, gushing from a shared miracle – they had all just experienced the greatest moment of their lives. It came to them. It was one of the most moving things i have ever seen, summing up perfectly the power and significance of music. I don’t believe another band on this planet could mean more to people. I don’t believe there exists a more important band.

I was wondering if the band actually realise their power, their importance, but near the end of the movie Bruce summed it up nicely:

“Having gone through the gamut of so many countries, and generating so much hope in people, it’s staring to occur to me now that we are actually… What’s that expression? Being thrust on to the tip of the spear, in terms of putting some kind of message out there. All people need is something to hang on to that’s real. Somewhere in the universe there’s something that you can rely on on and they won’t let you down. And if Maiden fulfill that for people for, i think that would be a remarkable thing. We might all end up retiring at some point in the future having actually achieved something. Wow.”

Yes you will have. Please tour South East Asia before you do retire.


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No Spiritual Surrender

No spiritual surrender – Inside Out

I remember going to Art Express with my mum years and years ago. Amidst all the great things this high schooler (actually at that time i was probably still in primary school) could never hope to match, or often understand, so he looks at it all jealously with resentment in tow, there was a piece titled No Spiritual Surrender. Knowing and exalting only Rage Against The Machine at the time, i had only heard of Inside Out in reference, a reference that was never made to seem crucial. I knew nothing of there music, nor much of what hardcore actually was.

Yet here was this artwork by someone who had most definitely heard Inside Out, and what hardcore was and what it gave them. I wish i could remember what it was or what it looked like. That year’s catalogue is probably still at my mother’s house. I should find it. I just remember the blurb written to accompany it was about the song and what it meant to the artist. The work was done as if by compulsion to this music. That seems a pretty natural and sure reaction. This song reaches and raises from somewhere very deep.


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You Do The Math

You do the math – Street Chant

Tonight’s the night. They actually came back. Yes, i’m a little excited. I mean, look:

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Mass For The Dead

Mass for the dead – Torches To Rome

Do you really think i care about the fucking new sound running through this town, and all these fools running around? Your reason seems to have fallen to fashion. And when the novelty precedes the passion… yeah, i’ve got a fuckin’ question:
What’s this mean to you?
You’re such a slave to preconceived disease and it’s memberships hold nothing for me. just follow rank and file to a guile so meaningless that it’s got you afraid to see that we are guilty. Within our own confines, we signal our defeat.
I’m not afraid to say…
They took the sharpest blade and quietly sliced out the part that mattered. And what does this mean to me? What does this mean to me? What’s this mean to me?!
In all this time you think we’d leave these novelties far behind, but all i see around are the faces worn, these acts that only bring us down. I am guilty, as i fail to sound. What i’ve tried so hard to place.
I’m not afraid to say i care.

If only all those unused Torches To Rome record jackets had Torches To Rome records to fit them, instead of being inverted, silk screened, and used to house another band’s records. Exhibit A to why punk rock is the best music. Exhibits B and onwards are probably those records in inverted Torches To Rome jackets.

hiroshima mon amour

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