Dune

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This guy sounds like a whimsical French musical instrument after a couple of shots of unicorn tears in a bar that sits just outside of the powder blue kingdom of happiness.

(don't front. you know you wanna go there)

I'm strangely attracted to this music.

That said, Herman Dune is not an easy pill to swallow for some. His delivery and song structures are bizarre.

I would put him on a mixtape alongside The Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players and The Moldy Peaches. Maybe I'd add some Ween... They Might Be Giants too. Yeah.

See that? I just got so nerdy on you. You're lucky I didn't mention Paul Barman.

Tina and the leathered buffoon: Part one.

He was a thick, leathered buffoon slumped over the jukebox when Tina found him slumped over the jukebox. There weren't any sorry assholes left at the bar besides the guy who lived above the place. He wasn't an asshole. He saved a kid once. The part where it all went wrong was when he went out to celebrate his good deed with some friends. They all went home, but he kept celebrating. And celebrating.

She approached her lummox with a calmly executed hint of hesitation. One that signaled she knew that if she didn't save him he'd be shaken awake and dragged onto the sidewalk by the bar back, but also knew the love was fading. They never even dated. She mostly just felt sorry for him.

With a measured tug she pulled him by the back pocket and said "What's going on, hon?" Of course there wasn't a response, but she knew he was blacked out. The bartender watched her as she wrapped her arms around his chest and gave him a lift. The leathered buffoon stood in a display of barely controlled slurs and near disastrous loss of balance. Thin Lizzy played through the piss scented air.

Exiting the bar was an awakening. The leathered buffoon, with his half opened eyes seemed to regain his equilibrium. "The Boys are back in town, huh?" he said with an embarrassed laugh. She was there again, but why? The cool night air swept his face and shocked its way through his denim jacket. It failed. The buffoon was always warm. Uncomfortably warm at times. Tonight however, the temperature was perfect.

"You know? It's not cool that the bartender calls my phone to get you off of his jukebox." she said with a tired grunt.

"It was only one other time... and it was the pool table that I passed out on. Do you think they should've kept serving me?" the buffoon feigned indifference after that.

"Oh, don't even try it. Walk!"

Des Roar at Silverlake Lounge.

Last night me and the crew decided to go down and catch Des Roar at the Silverlake Lounge. We were not disappointed. First off, it was good to see the gang again and it was plain to see that life on the road hasn't affected their mood. They were all just as drunk and ferocious as I recalled them to be. And much more.

In about 40 minutes they tore through a nice mixture of surf, garage, and the maniacal Rock N' Roll they've grown to perfect. Beginning with "The watcher" and ending the set with upcoming single "Watch your step" the crowd instantly knew that these NYC fuckers weren't just stopping by for a beer and polite conversation.

Enter the dueling guitars of wild Irishman Alan O' Keeffe and frontman Ben Wolcott, who has seriously upped his snarling intensity. Maybe being on the road has made them angry after all? They played with the brashness of a band that not only wanted to rock the house, but as a band that wanted to make sure that the sheer force of their music was going to crack a few ribs.

By the way, are you kids lifting weights? All of your arms looked like they were powerful enough to smash a beer cooler. As if that wasn't enough, their diminutive drummer Lyla ain't afraid to kick something after it's dead. For real.

During the last song, the aforementioned 'Watch your step', plenty of boys and girls in the crowd rushed to the dance floor and started doing the graveyard twist. (I have no idea what these kids call dancing today)

It was exactly what a Rock N' Roll show should be: Loud, fast, snotty, and raw. Can somebody please pick these guys up already!!?? Do yourselves a favor by grabbing a copy of Mad Things. You won't be sorry...

And Ryan, I still need a t shirt. You are my only hope.

*Thanks to Red Melanie for the photo.

You'll have to forgive me for not including pictures of the show. Honestly? I left the house pretty drunk to begin with and ended up forgetting my camera.

The Horrors - Vent

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Click here or the hostage gets it!

Not to be confused with Faris Tombstone or whatever those English Horror lads call themselves, these Horrors are from Iowa. What else comes from there?

Besides the state being a major force in the soybean industry, I couldn't find a lot. I'll have to visit. The only problem with that is that I take terrible notes when I'm drunk. Usually they start out informative, but they soon develop into crude drawings of naked women with pumpkins for hands and things of that nature. One time I was following someone who I thought was a local rapist. When I handed the notes to the cops they were excited that a citizen took such an acute attention to detail, but that all all changed when they realized the suspect was Caucasian, six foot tall, and was wearing the "strenuous costume of a shy zebra/ long pony hybrid"

Apparently I had begun writing a poem.

This album, produced by Memphis Garage legend Greg Cartwright, is not something that I'll keep on repeat, but I can promise you that no dirty old bar should be without a copy of this in their jukebox.

Rolling Stones and Satanic Requests

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"Hey Mick, I've got an idea."

"Yeah? What is it Keith?"

"Well, those mop topped buggers are getting all psychedelic and..."

"... and what, Keith? Are we supposed to compete with that?"

"Hell fuckin' yeah you big lipped bastard!"

And thus Their Satanic Majesties Request was born.

2000 Light Years from Home is the perfect song. Not kidding.

On first reaction I saw ________

A Mike McGill board.

Personally? I was a Lance Mountain guy.

By the way, is Axl Rose even a real person?

Jay Reatard R.I.P.

From Wikipedia:

"Lindsey was found dead in bed at his home in Midtown, Memphis around 3:30 a.m. on January 13, 2010. A death investigation has been opened by Memphis police. A statement was posted on the website of Goner Records, that Reatard had died in his sleep. Friends of Lindsey stated that he had recently complained of flu-like symptoms."

Read a great interview with Jay by Rich Tupica at Turn It Down here

Covers time!

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Good day folks, I'm sitting around cleaning up my computer and weeding out the tunes that really have no business being there such as the Fungi Girls and the Screaming Females records. I tried, but that doesn't mean I won't keep a look out for future stuff from those guys.

Anyway, while unearthing some stuff I inadvertently came across a few gems that I hadn't heard in a while. Among them was this little song folder with Ben from Des Roar covering two Strokes songs and one booze soaked original with a bit of that old country twang.

Speaking of Des Roar, they're playing the West Coast now and will be in LA on the 17th.

Enjoy!

*When downloading from Sharebee don't click the giant download button. Click the smaller, green filehost names instead (Rapidshit, Badwrongo; etc)

Videos I like today!

The Gories want you Outta here!

http://www.mediafire.com/?hyzh40nzmmj

Click here for labia soufflé.

I'm sure that I am going to be tarred and feathered for saying that I'm not really a fan of the Dirtbombs, but rest assured, the Gories have a special place in my heart. Nuff said.

Hey, here's an idea: Record yourself covering my favorite song on this record (Telepathic) and send it to me. I'll post them all as a limited edition download and whichever version I think is the best will inspire me to send something cool to the maker of it. Maybe the runner up will get something too.

Don't write to me asking what I'll send the winner because that would be lame. You don't want to be lame do you? Of course not... because no one will want to have sex with you. See?