Said the Gramophone - image by Matthew Feyld
by Mitz
(photo source)

Lantern - "We Are Here" [Pre-Order]

I saw a skunk last night around 3AM when I was walking home from my studio. I love it when everyone is asleep and there are just alley cats and occasional animals like that skunk and myself. I just falked(verb; fart and walk. example, My brother falked into the reception of his wedding with his wife. No one noticed but me.) and I didn't have to worry about offending anyone behind me.

If it's weekend, after 3AM, I encounter so many obnoxious drunk people. I think I mentioned before but drunk bros scare me so I never make eye-contacts with them. But if I see some cats on the street, I say hi to them. I know there are cat cafes around but they should make cat bar. maybe not. I'm not sure.

Anyways, back to last night 3AM, I saw skunk and I falked almost all the way home but I just wanted to listen to this song before I get home. So I pulled my earphone but as usual, it was tangled up and I have no idea how it was like that. Almost same feeling as watching True Detective Season 2. So I started to untangled while gently falking on the water like Jesus or Moses or whichever the dude walked on water. Then, I got home.

The end. Good night.

by Jeff

the

Yusef Lateef - "Sister Mamie"

She looked out her window into the dark night, the lit-up convenience store and the old park with its stone fence posts. She couldn't sleep so she turned on the radio. It was set to the oldies station, songs she knew too well. She was sick of them and the ads and the DJ voices, so she turned the dial. The DJ on the college station knew not to interrupt the late night thoughts of their listeners. And so she lay in bed listening to music from different times and places. Some heavy-bottom funk with Portuguese voices, mournful mountainside music, slow-burning soul ballads, and some high screaming instrument in a hard-swinging jazz band. She listened through the night, and the DJ never said a word. They were out there, somewhere in the city, awake, playing records, keeping a watch on the night. Dawn was breaking by the time she finally drifted off. She didn't hear the DJ, when she finally said "That's it for me everyone, thanks for listening. I'm off to Dusty's for breakfast."

(image source)

by Sean

We/Or/Me - "Always/Sometimes". We/Or/Me's Bahhaj Taherzadeh is a man who is comfortable with slashes. He is able to meditate on two possibilities at the same time. He is fond of the either/or. (I suspect he is also fond of Either/Or.)

This is a quiet/seeking song - content, settled; but searching at the same time.

It is patient/impatient.

When quoting poems or song-lyrics you place slashes between each line, to indicate a line-break or a pause. This is a strangeness. Why do we not use periods? Why not semicolons? Commas? No: slashes. "Lately / I find / years disappear in the blink of an eye." With the slash it is as if the line-break or the pause can mean "or this". Lately or I find or years disappear in the blink of an eye.

And perhaps this is true. Slippage happens in a song's pauses. There are moments when you forget the syllables that have just been sung and you are ready to consider a new thing. The lyrics are slashed apart in the same way clouds get slashed by sky. Or this...

And always / and sometimes," Tazerdeh sings, always and sometimes / I can leave them behind.

The lyrics in a song like this are a sort of broken-up sentence, sentences that aren't sentences, slashed next to each other. Each is a moment waiting to begin and then, once it has begun, it's waiting to begin again. You can play the same chords over and again; you can play the same song on repeat. They're all there, the chords and their songs, always and sometimes; and the more they're there, the more always, the more sometimes, the more the always and the sometimes start to feel like the same thing. Constancy feels intermittent, or the intermittency constant; and then a finger across guitar strings and the lullaby begins again.

[buy Everything Behind Us Is A Dream / see We/Or/Me at London, England's The Harrison on February 17]

by Mitz

Lambchop - "Steve McQueen" [Buy]

I wish I had a really deep deep voice. I can say anything and sound awesome.

"Would you like porkchop or lambchop?"

"E.A. Sports. It's in the game."

or even

"I'm sorry baby. I farted." it sounds like a gentleman!

except

"Trump for president!" that would sound dumb.

by Jeff

back cover of The Desperate Bicycles' second single

The Desperate Bicycles - "The Medium was Tedium"

"The Medium was Tedium" by The Desperate Bicycles begins with a two note bass line, followed by a wheezing organ vamp, and percussion provided by what I think is a kick drum and tambourine. This is bare-bones instrumentation, but they prove that these basic ingredients, along with spoke-sung vocals full of conviction, are all you need to make a killer song.

This is primordial UK DIY from a self-released seven inch. No glitz and glamour, just a belief that every song that played on mainstream radio in 1977 sucked so bad that literally anyone could do better. The Desperate Bicycles say go make your own band, because for them "it was easy - it was cheap." Go to your grandmother's house and borrow her organ and figure out how to make some noise with it, hell, recruit her to jam if you can.

(First heard on a mixtape from Warren Hill circa 2001. Thanks again, buddy)

by Sean
Dog in clothes


Coeur de Pirate - "Carry On". I have never walked a tightrope so I cannot tell you. Perhaps it is better to overprepare for your first foray, to study and practice, and study and practice, running endless rehearsals. Or perhaps it is better to go running out a little before you're ready. I do not know; I have never walked a tightrope. All I have done is other things.

by Emma

Hop Along - "Powerful Man"

"The music industry, in all aspects, is a pretty small community, no matter which side of the figurative coin you're on. [...] We owe it to ourselves, to our work, and to the listeners and readers who are interested in what we do, to fix the missing stairs instead of leaping over them, to truly address these issues when they are raised, to listen to these allegations with fair and open minds and take them seriously. And it is on those who have social protection against direct recrimination who have the greatest responsibility to listen."
-Heathcliff Berru and Other Missing Stairs (Jes Skolnik, Impose Magazine)

There has been a lot of talk online about sexual assault, harassment, community and complicity in the music industry this week after a number of women began speaking out online about their treatment at the hands of a PR executive.

It is astounding to witness the bravery of women who tell their stories in these situations. It's horrible to feel disappointed before you are ever surprised, to be forced to return to that feeling again and again, to know you may never be allowed to stop. Watching these conversations come up in different communities can sometimes feel like sea change; other times it can make you feel very very small and helpless, especially if you've experienced something like what's being spoken about.

If these things make you feel triggered or shattered or steamrolled, you don't have to read them. You don't always have to be brave. But if you are up to the challenge, remember that's a form of power. These things are happening all the time, in your industry, around you, to people you know and people you don't. Read. Listen. Pay attention. Believe women. Believe victims. Do what you can.

Music Publicist Heathcliff Berru Accused of Sexual Harassment by Dirty Projectors Member Amber Coffman (Caitlin White, Brooklyn Magazine)

Heathcliff Berru is proof it's worthwhile to talk about abuse, even if you can't go public (Kristel Jax, ChartAttack)

Silence vs. Solidarity (Max Mohenu, Aux)

[buy]