Thursday, January 31, 2008

A letter from me to you guys...

Hi everyone! Thanks for coming to this site. I've been checking my statistics and I've learned that there are a good amount of you that stop by almost daily. That's real cool and I appreciate you. If you aren't one of the locals and you're just stopping by for the first time, I welcome you with open arms.

Today's post isn't about music. It's about me keeping you all up to date with what's going on over here on my side of the screen. Some things are exciting and others are just plain tragic.

To make a really long story short I'll put it like this:
Three months ago my wife and I left our our Los Angeles apartment and packed a truck headed for Nashville, Tennessee. We were going there to buy a house and do the whole American thing. Too bad none of that actually happened.

After a few days of driving a sixteen foot Budget truck across the country we finally arrived in Music City. Within 48 hours of non stop unpacking and arranging furniture we were already relaxing on the couch watching TV. Life is good.

I started my new job a few days later and for the first three days it was good. Everything was going fine until my new boss, we'll call him Knah, decided that he would grossly mishandle me. I was there to be a supervisor and although overqualified, he treated me as if I had just gotten off of a raft and washed up at his feet. By day three he had cornered me in a hallway and tore into me for something that I had no part of. He got in my face and basically let me know that I wasn't ever going to advance under his command. That sociopath would probably deny it too. I walked away from that moment knowing that working for him could realistically be compared to being a vegetarian chef for the "Where's the beef lady"

A few weeks passed and he had done nothing but snarl and burp. Jesus, it sounds like I was employed by an animal, doesn't it? Anyway, to him, nothing I did was to his standards and after one final showdown I let him know that I couldn't work for him any longer. It felt really, really good because for a split second that blow hard was silent. Things were so awful working for him that it didn't matter that I'd have no income. If I could change anything though, it would be that wouldn't have cried when I was quitting. Not because I'm some pussy, but because I was so heartbroken over the fact that I uprooted my life along with my wifes and it was a pretty decent body blow. Try explaining to a pregnant woman that you have to basically tour the country when you originally promised them a house...

Three weeks later I had gotten word that my old job was interested in having me back, this time with a promotion as well as a raise. I packed the truck, this time a twenty six footer, by myself because my wife, and I'm very excited to announce, is pregnant with twin girls! I did get a little help from the only guy at the Tennessee job that I actually made a connection with. He did it for twenty bucks and a pepperoni pizza. His name is Labaron, like the car. He was so nice. His life was actually washed away by Katrina. Poor guy.

"All right" my wife and I screamed as we piled into the truck with our two dogs desperately trying to escape the brutal freezing weather. That pumped up feeling only lasted about a minute because as she turned the key in the ignition the truck made a wheezing noise, rattled a bit, and wouldn't turn on. We sat there and repeatedly tried to get it going, but nothing happened. We called Penske to let them know that they rented us a dud and they told us that they'd send someone out to see what the problem was.

After a long, cold, and boring two hour wait, a little fat guy pulled up in a ratty old truck. He popped open the hood and fiddled around with a bunch of stuff before telling us that the Diesel gasoline might have frozen. What? Gas freezes? Shit. Maybe the south has shitty gas who knows?

Thirty minutes later the truck magically turned on and we blasted out of Nashville as if the devil was threatening anal sex.

We drove for three days and as we were driving through Akela, New Mexico we started to smell a really strong burning smell. It was sort of like burned tires. All of a sudden the truck made a few weird noises and the smell got worse. We decided that we'd pull over to see what it was. We pulled into one of those American Indian highway shops that sell moccasins and turquoise jewelry. We looked under the truck and saw that there were two spouting oil leaks spilling everywhere. Pissed off we called Penske again only to be told that it would be a while before someone could make it out to us.

Approximately thirty minutes later a ratty old truck pulled up alongside of us and out hopped a small Mexican man in a cowboy hat and a Baby Huey-esque white guy. The smaller man looked beneath the truck and within a few seconds he said those magic words that let us know how screwed we actually were. He spoke car talk, which to a guy without an actual right to drive, means gibberish. In short I gathered that the truck was dead due to some recalled part that clearly was of high importance. We then got back on the phone with Penske and they told us that they'd send out a whole new truck, but it wouldn't get to us for about two hours.

Close to four hours later a new truck pulled into the lot on a flatbed. The small Mexican and Baby Huey started transferring all of our stuff into the new truck. Their hearts were in the right place, but their moving skills left a whole lot to be desired. The were putting all of our neatly arranged boxes and furniture into the new truck with no actual method of organization. When we tried to intervene we were politely scoffed at and informed that this is what "they were getting paid to do." Whatever.

Another two hours later my wife and I were back on the road, but that turned into a nightmare as well. It was raining cats and dogs and since New Mexico is basically desert, the highways are pitch black except for the headlights from the other cars. To top it off, the high beams didn't work so we decided that it was too dangerous to be driving and figured we'd stop at a motel for the night.

We then drove for another two days and finally saw the sign that said "Los Angeles." I never thought I'd be so excited about getting back to a place I didn't really love to begin with.

We didn't have an apartment lined up so we stayed at my wifes brother's house for three days while we searched for a place to live. While we were driving to California we had a place lined up, but at the last minute the lady who was going to rent to us had a change of opinion about renting her house out to a pregnant woman. She didn't actually come out and say that, but she made it unintentionally clear that this is what she meant.

On day three we decided to trying searching for apartments that were a little bit more pricey than we were used to and called up a number that we had found on Craigslist. Later that evening we met with the owner and he took an immediate liking to us. We wrote a check and like that, we now have a new address.

We wanted to celebrate, but along came the news that my wifes mother is dying of melanoma. The rest of the family didn't see it fit to let us know earlier because they knew that my wife is a high risk pregnancy and they didn't want her to get stressed out. That was an enormous bad move because now the doctors are giving her approximately four months to live as a best case scenario. Now my wife and her brother are going to be flying out to Boston to be at their moms bedside.

I have to stay in L.A. to start my new job, move into the new place, and hold things down on the West coast. I hate this because I hated my own mother who died when I was eleven years old and I really, really love my mother in law. She's a great lady who lives by the bible and has never done anything wrong her whole life. She's fantastic and this isn't fair, but when is dying fair? The way things are looking as I type this post, my wife and her brother are checking for flights and there's a huge possibility that she'll stay with her mother until the end which leaves me here...alone. I have to stay behind because I need to work to pay for this house we really can't afford. Life is funny sometimes they please, somebody hit me when I'm supposed to laugh.

This blog will take a short break while things get sorted out, but not too long...I've got a lot of tunes for all of you goons. Thanks for listening.


Monday, January 21, 2008

Video of the week!!

The Buzzards - You got me down

Look for a young Jack White clad in all black at 48 seconds in.

The Buzzards - The shiver

Kings of Leon sure are skinny.
Click here to grow a handlebar moustache...with streamers.

Do you remember when the Strokes embarked on the Room on fire tour and life was just awesome? They brought these guys along for the ride and aren't we all so glad they did? When we first heard the Youth and Young Manhood record, weren't we all a little bit like "what the hell is this southern guy saying?"

We didn't stop playing it did we? Of course not because they were damn great! I have mixed feelings about their latest album, but I'd still recommend it to anyone looking for a rockin' great time.

This offering is from a 2006 concert. The sound is awesome and so are the selection of tunes. Enjoy it and be sure to thank the original taper before you fall asleep tonight and dream of sharks with arms that do nothing but listen to NPR news. I don't actually know what I'm talking about, so I'm gonna go now.

The Mysterious mix tape.
Click here to get rid of those meddling kids that leave flaming bags of poop on your porch.

Are you scared? Huh, you scared? Yeah...scaredy cat? Huh huh?

Well don't be, my little gems. I actually don't remember what songs are on this, but I promise that it's going to be a fun listen. See, sometimes I have a few cocktails and just start making mix tapes for friends and people I work with in order for them to share some fine tunes with me. Since I'm a music nerd, I usually end up exposing a band that they like and then they go out and see the live the t shirts...etc.

Maybe I'm doing a good service? Who knows...I like to imagine that you'll be sitting home listening to this and saying to yourself "Man, track 9 definitely is great. Thanks ohrobot!"

Anyway, enjoy this mixed bag of audible treats. Leaving a comment wouldn't be a bad idea either.

Sunday, January 20, 2008

Slumber Party time!!
Click here to see my sisters boob.

Shoegazy..indie pop...noise...twee...blahblah blah.

Ms. Alicia Berg wrote all of the songs on this album.

What did you do today?
This Detroit band is really nice to listen to while you're doing whatever it is you might be doing outside when it rains. Keep the trenchcoat buttoned up though.

The Candy Darlings - Darling drinks because you cry.
Click here for beer fueled seks.

I found this album while I was packing up and getting ready to move back to Los Angeles today. It was made by a friend of mine who used to get trashed at a lower east side bar I used to work at. His name is Zach Lipez. If the name sounds familiar, it's because he and Nick Zinner put out a little book called Slept in beds not too long ago. I'm not entirely sure what else he's been up to lately, but I can be certain about one thing...whatever he's doing, I bet he's the sharpest dressed motherfu**er in the whole room. For real.

The Strokes are tight!
Click here to prevent Albert from cutting his hair.

Let the haters line up to knock this down, but The Strokes may be one of the tighest bands on the planet. I've seen them live a few times and their shows are played so precisely that in most cases it's impossible to tell if they're actually playing their instruments and not just popping in a CD over the PA system. The only real proof you have is the whole getting your face blown off thing every time Nick and Albert trade off on their solos.

This offering isn't any different. This session was recorded in Australia at the Triple J studios in July of 2001. It is their first record played in it's entirety just for you. Bitches.

PS. If you are one of the aforementioned Strokes haters...ask yourself why? Really. The number one reason I hear for people disliking them is wrapped up in the following quote that I heard from the artist while I was getting a tattoo in 2001

"I hate those guys...stupid rich boy pussies. That's why I like the Hives."

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Mastabeta - Authenticity
Click here to end the search for Animal Chin.

In keeping with the hiphop theme around here, I've decided to give you all an excellent lo-fi hip hop album by a New York City rapper named Mastabeta. This is a very honest album that captures the whole mid-nineties feel to a tee!

Put this one alongside those dusty copies of Funcrusher, Overcast, and Operation Doomsday.

Best albums of Oh,robot time - Velvet Underground & Nico

Click here to continue waiting...for the man.

Alright kids...grab your weed and meet me in the basement for some drinks and maybe a film blasted on the panel wall by an old school projector.

That's the feeling I get when I hear this record. It just makes me want to be semi concious with a half empty glass of whiskey dangling from my hand while I lay naked beside an unconventionally beautiful passed out Italian girl.

There isn't too much that I could say that hasn't been said. With that...enjoy this album.

Best albums of all Oh, robot time - Ol' Dirty Bastard - Return to the 36 chambers: The dirty version
Click here to request limo service to the welfare office

Okay folks, here is an unusual offering at oh,robot. I'll explain why there is a hip hop record on an otherwise rockin' blog. I've decided that I will now be posting albums with great personal relevance under the post title: Best albums of all Oh, robot time

First things first, I love hip hop music. Second, I haven't listened to hip hop radio since 1999 because it's really, in my opinion, a parody of itself. I know I risk sounding uncool or not with the times by saying that rap today is in a seriously sorry state. I mean, where are the entertaining lyricists? Why is it that whenever a car driven by a baseball capped thuggish looking dude drives by the only thing I can hear is high hats and sing-songy hooks? I can't understand why the "Diplomats" are so popular? The same goes for 90% of other popular acts.

Ludacris can rap. Kanye can rhyme. Everyone else however, just seems to be retelling the same guns/drugs/ho's/platinum crap that Puff started. Damn you Puff. By the way, is he even relevant anymore?

There is a curmudgeonly old man inside of me that is really mad that Company Flow, MF Doom, Cage, Atmosphere, Micranots, Natural Elements, etc; never shared their talents with the masses. Sure, I think it's great that they've been the personal private artists of a small percentage of (mostly European) fans, but c'mon? How is it that Lil' Scrappy or whatever the fu*k is gonna tell you something relevant? I guess he might if relevance equals "guns/drugs/ho's" to you, but to me...stuff like that just makes Bill Cosby upset. And we don't want to make a Huxtable mad do, we?

Enough ranting...let's unite under the flag of hip hop tonight.

I present to you an album that, although has more than enough rhymes about guns/drugs/ho's/ still incredible because at least nobody can accuse Mr. Russell Jones of "phoning it in." A lot of people might hate this record but they are also the same people who hate kittens...or babies.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Video of the Week! 2008 style..

Napoleon XIV - They're coming to take me away

This isn't the actual video for this song, but it's the best one I could find. This song, a novelty, was released in 1966 by Jerry Samuels, a one hit wonder who acidentally landed himself in the Top 5 of the charts that year.

When I was a kid, I'm now in my 30's, my mother used to play this 45 all of the time. So much that it became sort of the family theme song. I'm not sure if this explains the type of adult I've become?

The following was borrowed from Wiki:

Released on Warner Bros. Records, the bizarre depiction of mental illness became an instant hit in the United States that summer, reaching number 3 on the Billboard Hot 100 pop singles chart.
However, it was highly controversial at the time. Some groups protested the apparent mockery of mental illness, while other groups attacked the apparent comparison of Napoleon's wife to a "mangy mutt". The protesters put pressure both on radio stations directly and on the stations' advertisers.[1] This was especially felt in New York City, where Top 40 stalwarts WABC and WMCA soon dropped the record from airplay and skipped it during their countdown shows, much to the confusion of the young teens who made up a large part of those broadcasters' audience. The record was soon banned from airplay at radio stations in a number of other markets as well.

As a bonus, courtesy of my friends over at Totally Fuzzy, here is a full concert from Glasgow band The View.* Sorry the content was deleted by a douche*

As you can immediately tell, they are not the clucking chickens that have an American TV show. If you are a fan of the Family Guy, then you know about the clucking chicken reference.

Sunday, January 6, 2008

Holly G is the main attraction!
Click her to taste what you secretly want to.

Of all the Billy Childish team members, Ms. Golightly is certainly the most prolific. Over the past decade she has released countless albums/singles and not one of them has been a dud. Most people only know her from Jack and Megs Elephant record where she contributed hilarious lyrics on the song "Well, it's true that we love one another" or her songs with one of my faves; The Greenhornes on the Bill Murray movie Broken Flowers.

At the earliest point in her career she was part of the seminal British all girl garage band Thee Headcoatees and after a couple of albums she embarked on a solo mission which quite frankly, doesn't show signs of slowing down.

Ms. Denise James makes rock.
Click here for a free sample of cool!

Hey kids,
It's a brand New Year and hopefully you've all made it here without a trip to the hospital or worse...
I'd like to thank you all for visiting my little nook on the web. It means a lot for me to pass along music that some may not already know about. So thanks.

Today I'd like to give you all an album by Denise James. Who's she, right?
I'll be obliged to tell you:

Denise James is a Detroit musician whose music has a definite sixties sunshine pop vibe mixed in with a little dirty rock sound. She's produced by the man who seems to be the hardest working producer Detroit has ever seen; Jim Diamond.

Hmmm...sounds like a winning combo, right? Let's see:

Sixties pop...dirty rock and roll...Detroit...
Yeah, this one's a winner! After you hear this please go outside and find a way to buy her other records because if we don't pay them to do it, all music will go away and as a planet we'll be forced to listen to Daughtry. Ouch.

Favorite track? Let's take the day off.
(I'd be surprised if some travel company isn't begging to use it in a commercial)