Even if this fake, only had one truth (Cocteau Twins), I could die a happy Betty.
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Also, please welcome BloodyP to the blog. He’s a bit obsessed with Vampire Weekend, but shares a love of Delta Spirit, which makes him good people in my book.
Used to be that I could not stand a remix. I was a purist; choosing to go with the original song version as the artist intended. Remixes hurt the ears.
I wonder now if perhaps I had just been exposed to really really crappy ones. Or maybe the quality of remixing overall has vastly improved. It’s hard to deny that there are artists out there taking music created before them and twisting and turning it into something new, something different, and often something better. Two examples I’ve come upon in the past week that impressed:
Much like my feelings on remixes, Vampire Weekend is a band it took me some time to develop an appreciation for. The Chromeo Remix of their iconic song The Kids Don’t Stand a Chance though? Instant love. Like, the play on repeat kind of love. Here’s a song you’ve heard a million times before and now it’s fresh again and - bonus - you can dance to it. (you’re welcome)
Lykke Li’s Little Bit is one that gets remixed often, and as a fan of hers and the song I pretty much check out every version I get my hands on. The AutoErotique Bootleg Remix is a recent find and is my favorite one thus far. It’s got a little bit of a harder edge to the beats that does it for me. Plus they’re Canadian, which always seems to be a thing for me… Check it out from RCRD LBL.
I spent my formative music development years in Los Angeles. Exposed to a wide range of styles and genres. I frequented the Whisky and Viper Room, but loved the basement of the Coconut Teaser’s just as well. A small venue. Okay, TINY venue.
It was the place, back in the 90’s, that I was exposed to my first dose of Psychobilly. The pounding drumlines of hard rock/metal mixed with a punk infused rockabilly. And wrapped in a little southern gentleman charm.
Oh they don’t look like it, but some of the biggest pussycats I’ve ever met were running in the Psychobilly crowds. Vic was an upright base player. A mass of a man with his chain wallet and gas station attendant jacket. He drove a pick-up truck with a gun rack, IN LOS ANGELES. He could rip the head off a mule deer with his bare hands. If you didn’t figure this out from his 6′3″, 218lbs shadow, the zipper tattooed around his neck was a dead giveaway.
But Vic, he was a sweetheart. He’s the guy that helps the little old lady across the street. He did this thing when he went to fill up his Cadillac (w/ suicide doors). While he waited for his massive tank to fill, he’d offer to pump gas for the ladies. On Sunset Blvd, in the gas station attendant jacket, he looked the part and they’d let him!
Vic was the kind of guy you would not want to cross in a dark alley, and he was the kind of guy I wanted to take home to mom. But it was more than the look, it was the music. Something about those fast moving cords and hooky bridges had me all a twitter.
The 90’s were the third wave of the Psychobilly invasion, giving it international notice. While some hold The Cramps responsible for starting the movement in the states back in the 70’s, they disowned the label “psychobilly” claiming it was just a word they used for marketing. Psychobilly roots grew deep in California with bands like Tiger Army coming out of San Francisco in ‘95. Making a home at Hellcat Records, they marked their territory in the history of Psychobilly music.
Throughout the 90’s, California was a buzz with Psychobilly. Smaller generes like surf rock and ska could attach themselves to the label for street cred. As movies like Swingers paved the way for the resurgence of Rockabilly, Psychobilly bands popped up everywhere.
And so did sexy men with shaved heads, tattooes and well worn cowboy hats. Who could play upright bass.
I was a kid in a candy store in Los Angeles in the late 90s. Bad boys with gentlemanly manners were everywhere and the music was like booze for me. Intoxicating to my soul and eyes.
Just north of me, in the little sleepy seaside town I had grown up in, guys I knew, and at least one I crushed on, were getting their piece of the action.
I hadn’t heard of Blazing Haley until I saw the lead singer at my 20 year reunion. Then, generally forgot about them until recently when I was looking for a reason to write something here. These boys are hard-core Psychobilly. Holding true to the driving punk roots and churning out head banging boot stomping tunes. They’ve been at it for a few years and the output is tight and clean.
With full CDs on iTunes & CD Baby, AND a live show coming up at Velvet Jones in Santa Barbara Dec 6, 2008, these cats are worth the listen.
Music is my everything. My iPod has a name and a personality; I fully believe he speaks to me via the songs he plays, selecting each one not via some shuffle algorithim cooked up by an Apple programmer; nono - Steve (the iPod) can tap in to my moods whenever he wants and will pull songs based on what I’m needing to hear. I search lyrics for deep insightful meaning and he knows this. The answers are in there man, you just gotta look for them. Or you know, sometimes he just gets bored and says fuck it; and pulls so much R.E.M. I’d swear he and Michael Stipe had a thing going.
Blogging has been a big part of my life too, at least for the past four years or so. As a result of it I’ve met some amazing people and am lucky enough to count them among my dearest friends. Naturally when I decided to finally shake the dust off and give life to the whole “music blog” concept [of which the world needs another about as much as it needs another poker blog]; I turned to them.
Betty Underground is one of the most amazing writers I know. She inspires me on an almost daily basis. And when she’s not doing that, she’s harassing me because I haven’t written anything lately. Our musical tastes run pretty similar, though from what I know of her iPhone ring tones she can veer into the pop side of things a little too much for my tastes (*cough*justin timberlake*cough*). Artist she exposed me to: Kings of Leon
Gus is best summed up by one of his favorite sayings - “I hate most everyone. Mainly for their taste in music.” I remember at SXSW one year, standing in line outside Red Eyed Fly, trying in vain to get in for Band of Horses (this being the year they got BIG) and finally just giving up. On the line, on the whole doing SXSW my way thing; I turned it all over to Gus and informed him that I was now at his whim and willing to take his word on any suggestion he might have for any show I needed to see. It worked. I never stood in another line but saw a lot of good bands, bands all the kidz know today. But don’t expect him to write about any of that here; Gus’ condition for joining the site was that he would pretty much be focusing on his love for the Dead Milkmen. Artist he exposed me to: too many to count really, though the Silversun Pickups stand out as a fave
John Hartness is not what you would expect from a Southern boy (it’s the kilt) but he is one indeed. While my musical tastes run across the board and are quite eclectic, I’m counting on John to balance things out and as he said, “bring a little hillbilly to it”. When I first met John he passed out mix CDs to several of his new friends, which not only came in handy for me forced to drive my father’s sans-aux port car but I found it to be an immensely cool thing. Naturally, in my crew I was always the one who made the mix CDs and exposed friends to music they’d never hear otherwise. To be on the receiving end was new for me and I loved it. Artist he exposed me to: Jamie Cullum
And then of course, there’s me. I already told you I name my iPod and give it far too much credit for the songs it plays; what more do you need to know? My childhood dream job was to be the person that picked the music that played at sports arenas during the games because I always knew of a better song that fit the situation than the one they were playing. I fell asleep with headphones on every night. I taped my favorite videos off MTV religiously to the point where I had towering stacks of them. And then I’d watch them. I always had a soundtrack to my life going in my head, and then Steve Jobs was nice enough to come along and give me a way to actually make it happen. Me = kinda crazy with music. At any given time my Windows desktop is covered with mp3s in need of review. I am incredibly picky about what makes it on that iPod. It is super rare that I will load an entire album; a quirk of mine that I get endless shit for from several friends. It’s part having been burnt too many times from one-hit wonders, part I just really don’t want to hear anything I don’t absolutely love. So that’s what you can expect from me for the most part. I’m going to tell you about what really makes me happy; the stuff that has really hit the tops for me whether it came out yesterday or two years ago. Except then I worry we’ll run out of things to talk about… and maybe then I’ll just let Steve pick.
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