top 100 reasons that El Gran Silencio's Super Riddim Internacional Vol. 1 is the best album of the year, #'s 70-79
70. Best picture in the booklet: two parts: a microphone in the place of the hammer and sickle: an eight-year-old Mexican girl flipping us all off.
71. "Pay attention, pay attention / Cumbia ragamuffin it's a nice combination" ("Songbomb")
72. "Con el rock steady de mi corazon / Le puse a escribir la misma cancion" ("Ayer")
73. "Watch me now, watch me now / Con el ritmo original ragamuffin style / My people fly, fly baby fly / Shalom, shalom, lord have mercy, bye bye" ("Sound System Municipal")
74. It's basically a concept album about rocking the fuck out by combining different musical styles and loving them all more than you love life itself.
75. Well, that's the upshot of most of Cano's songs, anyway. (Younger brothers!) Tony's songs are kind of about that plus other stuff too, like getting old ("Recuerdo y Lluvia") and remembering that your simple hardworking quotidian blue-collar life can be beautiful too ("Venadito Callejero"). But mostly about rocking the fuck out.
76. "No me importa la competicion / No me molesta ningun imitacion" ("Cumbiamuffin")
77. The expansion of sound they get on this record by employing Armando "Mata" Rivera on congas and La "Kalaka" on timbales really helps them out a lot. Chuntaros sounded nice and rich, like Walter Annenberg, but this one sounds almost evilly rich, like [insert name of despised billionaire here, there are a lot to choose from, dude from Tyco or something].
78. "Buenos Dias" welds Cano's beautiful slide guitar to a semi-drum'n'bass beat at the beginning, but then the beat drops down to half-speed and it turns into a pretty slow-jam where Cano is more talking than rapping, and it's all about how great their home city is: "It's a new day en mi Monterrey".
79. And then, just when you're getting used to this mellow sort of rumination, they keep doubling the beat back up for like a measure or two, then dropping it back down. At the end, it kicks back up for the outro boom boom BAP boop-ba-doop-ba-doop-BAP!
29.11.03
top 100 reasons that El Gran Silencio's Super Riddim Internacional Vol. 1 is the best album of the year, #'s 80-89
80. The scratching and programming is often done by DJ Macojazz. This is really Tony Hdz. under a fake name. He used to call himself DJ Guarachascratch or something when he did this, but DJ Macojazz is better.
81. Cano now calls himself Cano "Capricornio" Hernandez. Lotta mystique and game playing here.
82. Two more songs in Tony's "Tonta Cancion de Amor" ("Stupid Love Song") series: "Sueno" ("Dream") and "Sabes" ("You Know"). Sweetness is all part of Chuntaro style.
83. "Sueno" opens with some gawdawful noise, like Tony's being awakened from his sueno. He yells "Haaaaaaagaaaaaan silencio!" twice ("Be quiet!") through this noise, which is a play on the group's name as well as a warning to the listener to chill the hell out and not expect any of the jumpy-jumpy coming up, and then explains why: "Estoy sonando," which echoes in the mix...I'm dreaming...: Avant gardiness!
84. And then the ballad kicks in and it's so tender you wanna cry and thank Tony for believing in love, no, for living for love, for needing love so bad, for writing stupid songs about love, please more, let this series of tonta canciones de amor go on forever.
85. They've all gotten fat.
86. They all wear matching track suits with "Comando Ruffmix" stenciled on them, like the Clash.
87. They wear these suits in the "Super Riddim Internacional" video, which depicts some secret political rave in the middle of nowhere, all the sexy kids dancing and anti-war messages projected in the background and Tony's wearing some sort of weird wig and Cano busts up his own song both singing and rapping, "muevete muevete" and "sigame sigame" ("move it" and "follow me," damn I hope my Spanish is up to this), and the horn players have a little dance. This is justification enough for MTVEspanol.
88. The drum break in this song, followed by the horn players entering on the uno, the dos, the tres, "bah bah bah!" like a high school marching band.
89. At the end of the dedications: "A con todo nuestro carino y respete a Carlos Rivolta (Dusminguet), Jam Master Jay (Run-D.M.C), y a Joe Strummer (The Clash). Q.F.P.D."
80. The scratching and programming is often done by DJ Macojazz. This is really Tony Hdz. under a fake name. He used to call himself DJ Guarachascratch or something when he did this, but DJ Macojazz is better.
81. Cano now calls himself Cano "Capricornio" Hernandez. Lotta mystique and game playing here.
82. Two more songs in Tony's "Tonta Cancion de Amor" ("Stupid Love Song") series: "Sueno" ("Dream") and "Sabes" ("You Know"). Sweetness is all part of Chuntaro style.
83. "Sueno" opens with some gawdawful noise, like Tony's being awakened from his sueno. He yells "Haaaaaaagaaaaaan silencio!" twice ("Be quiet!") through this noise, which is a play on the group's name as well as a warning to the listener to chill the hell out and not expect any of the jumpy-jumpy coming up, and then explains why: "Estoy sonando," which echoes in the mix...I'm dreaming...: Avant gardiness!
84. And then the ballad kicks in and it's so tender you wanna cry and thank Tony for believing in love, no, for living for love, for needing love so bad, for writing stupid songs about love, please more, let this series of tonta canciones de amor go on forever.
85. They've all gotten fat.
86. They all wear matching track suits with "Comando Ruffmix" stenciled on them, like the Clash.
87. They wear these suits in the "Super Riddim Internacional" video, which depicts some secret political rave in the middle of nowhere, all the sexy kids dancing and anti-war messages projected in the background and Tony's wearing some sort of weird wig and Cano busts up his own song both singing and rapping, "muevete muevete" and "sigame sigame" ("move it" and "follow me," damn I hope my Spanish is up to this), and the horn players have a little dance. This is justification enough for MTVEspanol.
88. The drum break in this song, followed by the horn players entering on the uno, the dos, the tres, "bah bah bah!" like a high school marching band.
89. At the end of the dedications: "A con todo nuestro carino y respete a Carlos Rivolta (Dusminguet), Jam Master Jay (Run-D.M.C), y a Joe Strummer (The Clash). Q.F.P.D."
28.11.03
top 100 reasons that El Gran Silencio's Super Riddim Internacional Vol. 1 is the best album of the year, #'s 90-100
90. They open with a track where a whole bunch of random Mexican people talk about how they don't like El Gran Silencio: "no me gusta".
91. This track is backed by the "Rock the Bells" sample.
92. Every band where brothers take turns writing songs is automatically great, and here the songs are split evenly between Cano Hernandez and Tony Hernandez, both with seven. (Accordionist Isaac "Campa" Valdez writes one.)
93. Every band with a full-time accordion player is automatically great, especially when it's Campa, who is the greatest rock and roll accordionist of all time.
94. Proof of that: His double-tracked solo during "Ingratos Corazones," playing against himself like Bowie did on saxophone in the album version of "Let's Dance," along with the great saxophone of Luis Rosales.
95. Further proof: The way Campa wails right before another Rosales solo during "Super Riddim Internacional," both of 'em wailing high and free.
96. Best packaging of the year: great shiny cover, generous photo/art/lyric/track info booklet that slides into a little slot. Design is Russian Futurist crossed with Trad Mex Stylee.
97. Stylee: these dudes LOVE reggae and hip-hop and cumbia, and see the automatic and deep connection between the three, but they might just love reggae or ska most of all. Their rapping was more rappy on Chuntaros Radio Poder but now it's more dancehall.
98. A lot of the credit for the riddim part needs to go to ace drummer Ezequiel Alvarado and bassist "Vulgar" Hernandez.
99. Every band with a bass player named "Vulgar" is automatically great.
100. I've heard that "Vulgar" has left the band. If this is true (and please let it NOT be true, oh please por favor), then they should replace him with another bass player and call HIM "Vulgar" (or HER "Vulgar," no sexism here). It should be like the Ramones and stuff.
90. They open with a track where a whole bunch of random Mexican people talk about how they don't like El Gran Silencio: "no me gusta".
91. This track is backed by the "Rock the Bells" sample.
92. Every band where brothers take turns writing songs is automatically great, and here the songs are split evenly between Cano Hernandez and Tony Hernandez, both with seven. (Accordionist Isaac "Campa" Valdez writes one.)
93. Every band with a full-time accordion player is automatically great, especially when it's Campa, who is the greatest rock and roll accordionist of all time.
94. Proof of that: His double-tracked solo during "Ingratos Corazones," playing against himself like Bowie did on saxophone in the album version of "Let's Dance," along with the great saxophone of Luis Rosales.
95. Further proof: The way Campa wails right before another Rosales solo during "Super Riddim Internacional," both of 'em wailing high and free.
96. Best packaging of the year: great shiny cover, generous photo/art/lyric/track info booklet that slides into a little slot. Design is Russian Futurist crossed with Trad Mex Stylee.
97. Stylee: these dudes LOVE reggae and hip-hop and cumbia, and see the automatic and deep connection between the three, but they might just love reggae or ska most of all. Their rapping was more rappy on Chuntaros Radio Poder but now it's more dancehall.
98. A lot of the credit for the riddim part needs to go to ace drummer Ezequiel Alvarado and bassist "Vulgar" Hernandez.
99. Every band with a bass player named "Vulgar" is automatically great.
100. I've heard that "Vulgar" has left the band. If this is true (and please let it NOT be true, oh please por favor), then they should replace him with another bass player and call HIM "Vulgar" (or HER "Vulgar," no sexism here). It should be like the Ramones and stuff.
27.11.03
To: emilatin@emicap.com
From: cibula@ku.com
Re: news about Super Riddim Internacional Vol. 2?
I am a music writer who thinks that El Gran Silencio’s Super Riddim Internacional Vol. 1 is the best record of the year, maybe even of the decade so far. But there has been no news about Vol. 2, and your website has no information whatsoever, and it is impossible to find out information about the band anywhere, and it’s all very frustrating. Can you tell me what’s up with Volume 2, or the band, or anything at all? This lack of information and publicity is what kills any momentum that Mexican music has in the U.S. The Cuban/Miami groups are much better at building up buzz—why can’t EMI support their acts?
I don’t really expect a reply, but I’d appreciate one nonetheless.
Matt Cibula
haibun.blogspot.com
cibula@ku.com
Your message
To: ‘emilatin@emicap.com’
Subject: news about Super Riddim Internacional Vol. 2?
Sent: Thu, 27 Nov 2003 10:35:37 -0500
did not reach the following recipient(s):
c=US;a= ;p=EMIGRP;o=HUB-AMR;dda:SMTP=EMILATIN@EMICAP.COM; on Thu, 27 Nov
2003 10:31:27 -0500
The recipient name is not recognized
The MTS-ID of the original message is: c=us;a=
;p=emigrp;l=SNYCD04E0311271531XVXRX850
MSEXCH:IMS:EMIGRP:HUB-AMR:SNYCD04E 0 (000C05A6) Unknown Recipient
From: cibula@ku.com
Re: news about Super Riddim Internacional Vol. 2?
I am a music writer who thinks that El Gran Silencio’s Super Riddim Internacional Vol. 1 is the best record of the year, maybe even of the decade so far. But there has been no news about Vol. 2, and your website has no information whatsoever, and it is impossible to find out information about the band anywhere, and it’s all very frustrating. Can you tell me what’s up with Volume 2, or the band, or anything at all? This lack of information and publicity is what kills any momentum that Mexican music has in the U.S. The Cuban/Miami groups are much better at building up buzz—why can’t EMI support their acts?
I don’t really expect a reply, but I’d appreciate one nonetheless.
Matt Cibula
haibun.blogspot.com
cibula@ku.com
Your message
To: ‘emilatin@emicap.com’
Subject: news about Super Riddim Internacional Vol. 2?
Sent: Thu, 27 Nov 2003 10:35:37 -0500
did not reach the following recipient(s):
c=US;a= ;p=EMIGRP;o=HUB-AMR;dda:SMTP=EMILATIN@EMICAP.COM; on Thu, 27 Nov
2003 10:31:27 -0500
The recipient name is not recognized
The MTS-ID of the original message is: c=us;a=
;p=emigrp;l=SNYCD04E0311271531XVXRX850
MSEXCH:IMS:EMIGRP:HUB-AMR:SNYCD04E 0 (000C05A6) Unknown Recipient
26.11.03
some stuff you should know about me I
Born: Children's Hospital, San Francisco, California, 1966
Schools: St. John Fisher School, Portland, Oregon; William Knight Elementary School, Canby, Oregon; Paul R. Ackerman Junior High School, Canby, Oregon; Canby Union High School, Canby, Oregon; Harvard College, Cambridge, Massachusetts.
Married: one wife. A hot babe.
Father to: two children, aged eight and five. Cool as hell.
Currently live: Madison, Wisconsin. Probably moving to Durham, North Carolina, next year. Maybe. Possibly. Man, I don't know. I'm tired. I'm going to sleep.
Born: Children's Hospital, San Francisco, California, 1966
Schools: St. John Fisher School, Portland, Oregon; William Knight Elementary School, Canby, Oregon; Paul R. Ackerman Junior High School, Canby, Oregon; Canby Union High School, Canby, Oregon; Harvard College, Cambridge, Massachusetts.
Married: one wife. A hot babe.
Father to: two children, aged eight and five. Cool as hell.
Currently live: Madison, Wisconsin. Probably moving to Durham, North Carolina, next year. Maybe. Possibly. Man, I don't know. I'm tired. I'm going to sleep.
23.11.03
briefism II
a. There are no defects in the movie Elf as far as I can see.
b. I just bought the Franky Perez album Poor Man's Son for $5.90, and I am astounded that I have never heard of this record, as it is really quite wonderful. Sure, he's a crazy lockstep conservative Cuban dude, but the songs are strong.
c. The first song on that record is about moving to Hollywood to try to be a star, which is very much like Los Lonely Boys' song "Hollywood," which makes two different Latin/American albums to feature this as a metaphor for American aspiration. So how come Antonio Banderas, from Spain, is the biggest Latino actor?
d. It is my brother's birthday, so rawk to him. He's a great guy.
e. I am down at the computer waiting for Sam to fall asleep so Liza can come downstairs so we can watch the rest of the "Alias" tape. It's 11:30. There goes another Sunday night.
f. I recommend the movie Laurel Canyon, but not because of its sparkling dialogue or clever plot. Mostly, it's the acting (Frances McDormand can do no wrong, although someone should have asked Christian Bale to turn it down a notch), and the pretty people (Alessandro Nivola is a dead ringer for Liam Gallagher, Kate Beckinsale has the best teeth since 50 Cent), and some other stuff I shouldn't talk about.
g. I don't know who the hell is reading this thing. Please email me so I know who you all are. Or not. It's all good.
h. blah blah some other stuff
a. There are no defects in the movie Elf as far as I can see.
b. I just bought the Franky Perez album Poor Man's Son for $5.90, and I am astounded that I have never heard of this record, as it is really quite wonderful. Sure, he's a crazy lockstep conservative Cuban dude, but the songs are strong.
c. The first song on that record is about moving to Hollywood to try to be a star, which is very much like Los Lonely Boys' song "Hollywood," which makes two different Latin/American albums to feature this as a metaphor for American aspiration. So how come Antonio Banderas, from Spain, is the biggest Latino actor?
d. It is my brother's birthday, so rawk to him. He's a great guy.
e. I am down at the computer waiting for Sam to fall asleep so Liza can come downstairs so we can watch the rest of the "Alias" tape. It's 11:30. There goes another Sunday night.
f. I recommend the movie Laurel Canyon, but not because of its sparkling dialogue or clever plot. Mostly, it's the acting (Frances McDormand can do no wrong, although someone should have asked Christian Bale to turn it down a notch), and the pretty people (Alessandro Nivola is a dead ringer for Liam Gallagher, Kate Beckinsale has the best teeth since 50 Cent), and some other stuff I shouldn't talk about.
g. I don't know who the hell is reading this thing. Please email me so I know who you all are. Or not. It's all good.
h. blah blah some other stuff
20.11.03
The Hearty Drinking Song
O some they play Bob Marley
And mellow out with weed
I opt for hops and barley
It works out well indeed
So smoke your dusty reefer
Or suck your homemade bong
For I will stand with beer in hand
And my hearty drinking song
With a ho ho ho and a hey hey hey
My Hearty Drinking Song.
It's beer the noble beverage
Of which I sing tonight
A little elbow leverage
Will keep you good and tight
I won't drink wine or sherry
Because I'm not from France
I was born right here so give me beer
God damn where are my pants
With a ho ho ho and a hey hey hey
My Hearty Drinking Song.
There's alcohol in this brown ale
It's not a large amount
But if you have sixteen of them
Rest easy, it'll count
A high school kid will risk his neck
To get a can or two
But I am thirty and a half
I think I'll have a few
With a ho ho ho and a hey hey hey
My Hearty Drinking Song.
My mother's family's all right
They're San Francisco Irish
When I go there we all get wet
And dewy-eyed and smilish
My uncle Peter's for a priest
My great-aunt Jean's a nun
They drink like fiends sent straight from hell
And Jean, she's got a gun
With a ho ho ho and a hey hey hey
My Hearty Drinking Song.
If you are a teetotaler
That's your God-given right
But it will take an act of God
To get me home tonight
I'll have the one I'm holding
I'll have some of its friends
And then I'll go joyriding
In your Mercedes Benz
With a ho ho ho and a hey hey hey
My Hearty Drinking Song.
I've never smoked a cigarette
Cause I'm afraid of cancer
My family's susceptible
That is my standard answer
I will not touch cigar nor pipe
Don't want no halitosis
But look out liver here it comes
I'll chance it with cirrhosis
With a ho ho ho and a hey hey hey
My Hearty Drinking Song.
I guess I've thrown away my life
I pass the day in bed
I've alienated my young wife
My daughter hangs her head
I sneeze and it is silver
I cough and it is gold
So quick hand me another stein
Of gleaming bitter cold
With a ho ho ho and a hey hey hey
My Hearty Drinking Song.
The end is coming closer
My song is nearly sung
I cannot walk so pour my drink
Into my iron lung
"I loved to drink" my tombstone reads
In case you couldn't tell
I wish they drank in heaven
So I guess I'll drink in hell
With a ho ho ho and a hey hey hey
My Hearty Drinking Song.
(I wrote this. Copyright me and stuff.)
O some they play Bob Marley
And mellow out with weed
I opt for hops and barley
It works out well indeed
So smoke your dusty reefer
Or suck your homemade bong
For I will stand with beer in hand
And my hearty drinking song
With a ho ho ho and a hey hey hey
My Hearty Drinking Song.
It's beer the noble beverage
Of which I sing tonight
A little elbow leverage
Will keep you good and tight
I won't drink wine or sherry
Because I'm not from France
I was born right here so give me beer
God damn where are my pants
With a ho ho ho and a hey hey hey
My Hearty Drinking Song.
There's alcohol in this brown ale
It's not a large amount
But if you have sixteen of them
Rest easy, it'll count
A high school kid will risk his neck
To get a can or two
But I am thirty and a half
I think I'll have a few
With a ho ho ho and a hey hey hey
My Hearty Drinking Song.
My mother's family's all right
They're San Francisco Irish
When I go there we all get wet
And dewy-eyed and smilish
My uncle Peter's for a priest
My great-aunt Jean's a nun
They drink like fiends sent straight from hell
And Jean, she's got a gun
With a ho ho ho and a hey hey hey
My Hearty Drinking Song.
If you are a teetotaler
That's your God-given right
But it will take an act of God
To get me home tonight
I'll have the one I'm holding
I'll have some of its friends
And then I'll go joyriding
In your Mercedes Benz
With a ho ho ho and a hey hey hey
My Hearty Drinking Song.
I've never smoked a cigarette
Cause I'm afraid of cancer
My family's susceptible
That is my standard answer
I will not touch cigar nor pipe
Don't want no halitosis
But look out liver here it comes
I'll chance it with cirrhosis
With a ho ho ho and a hey hey hey
My Hearty Drinking Song.
I guess I've thrown away my life
I pass the day in bed
I've alienated my young wife
My daughter hangs her head
I sneeze and it is silver
I cough and it is gold
So quick hand me another stein
Of gleaming bitter cold
With a ho ho ho and a hey hey hey
My Hearty Drinking Song.
The end is coming closer
My song is nearly sung
I cannot walk so pour my drink
Into my iron lung
"I loved to drink" my tombstone reads
In case you couldn't tell
I wish they drank in heaven
So I guess I'll drink in hell
With a ho ho ho and a hey hey hey
My Hearty Drinking Song.
(I wrote this. Copyright me and stuff.)
18.11.03
doubling it up on InkBlot today: a collab with Jesse F. on Lyrics Born, and my take on Spearhead. That's all I have to say for right now. You've all been beautiful and I love you.
17.11.03
briefism I
1. additions to the list below: John Wubbenhorst & Facing East, Facing Beloved, The R.E.G. Project, II, Control Machete, uno,dos:bandera. This will grow and grow.
2. check Sasha Frere-Jones about the new Jay-Z record in Slate. Good ol' Sasha.
3. The Portland Trailblazers are kinda breakin' my heart, but they'll improve when they trade Rasheed and Bonzi. This will also help my fantasy team, because 'Sheed's stats will go up and so will Zach Randolph's, and I have them both. Plus Stoudamire too, whom I didn't wanna add, but apparently Charlie Ward's been benched and I hate that guy anyway. I'm still #1, but mostly because my guys' teams have played more.
4. I am in emotional agony virtually all the time. It's not fun anymore though.
5. just got back from Chicago. I miss Chicago. I'm glad I don't live there anymore though. but I still miss it.
6. this will go down in history as my least interesting entry ever, even in the face of stiff competition.
7. ahem.
8. one of the tracks on the John Wubbenhorst and Facing East record is called, and I quote, "Infectuoso Groovatissimo." And it still rocks.
1. additions to the list below: John Wubbenhorst & Facing East, Facing Beloved, The R.E.G. Project, II, Control Machete, uno,dos:bandera. This will grow and grow.
2. check Sasha Frere-Jones about the new Jay-Z record in Slate. Good ol' Sasha.
3. The Portland Trailblazers are kinda breakin' my heart, but they'll improve when they trade Rasheed and Bonzi. This will also help my fantasy team, because 'Sheed's stats will go up and so will Zach Randolph's, and I have them both. Plus Stoudamire too, whom I didn't wanna add, but apparently Charlie Ward's been benched and I hate that guy anyway. I'm still #1, but mostly because my guys' teams have played more.
4. I am in emotional agony virtually all the time. It's not fun anymore though.
5. just got back from Chicago. I miss Chicago. I'm glad I don't live there anymore though. but I still miss it.
6. this will go down in history as my least interesting entry ever, even in the face of stiff competition.
7. ahem.
8. one of the tracks on the John Wubbenhorst and Facing East record is called, and I quote, "Infectuoso Groovatissimo." And it still rocks.
12.11.03
2003 so far Aereogramme, Sleep and Release Gary Allan, See If I Care Ashfelt, Fat Space Acid Akrobatik, Balance Arnaldo Antunes / Carlinhos Brown / Marisa Monte, Tribalistas Mafalda Arnauth, Encantamento Bad Company UK, Shot Down on Safari David Banner, Mississippi: The Chopped and Screwed Album Baby Bash, Tha Smokin’ Nephew Basement Jaxx, Kish Kash Bembeya Jazz, Bembeya Jane Birkin, Arabesque Bleu, Redhead Michelle Branch, Hotel Paper Brooks & Dunn, Red Dirt Road Brookville, Wonderfully Nothing Café Tacuba, Cuatros Caminos Cibelle, Cibelle The Clinton Administration, One Nation Under a Re-Groove Rosco P. Coldchain, Hazardous Life: The Mixtape Ry Cooder / Manuel Galbán, Mambo Sinuendo Robert Cray, Time Will Tell Jason Crosby, Four Chords and Seven Notes Ago Daúde, Neguinha Te Amo Drive-By Truckers, Decoration Day Hilary Duff Metamorphosis Steve Earle, Just an American Boy El Gran Silencio, Super Riddim Internacional!, Vol. 1 Rose Falcon, Rose Falcon Ibrahim Ferrer, Buenos Hermanos The Finishing School, Destination Girl Celso Fonseca, Natural Fountains of Wayne, Welcome Interstate Managers Francine, 28 Blue Plastic Versions of Endings With You Frankie J, What’s a Man to Do? Michael Franti & Spearhead, Everyone Deserves Music The Gathering, Souvenirs The Gibson Brothers, Bona Fide Gigi, Illuminated Audio Martin Gordon, The Baboon in the Basement Macy Gray, The Trouble With Being Me Guster, Keep It Together Hall and Oates, Do It For Love Anthony Hamilton, Comin’ From Where I’m From Isaac Hayes, At Wattstax Jet by Day, Cascadia Flaco Jimenez, Squeeze Box King Junior Senior, D-d-don’t Don’t Stop the Beat Karsh Kale, Liberation Robert Earl Keen, Farm Fresh Onions Kenna, New Sacred Cow Gaby Kerpel, Carnabailito Kazufumi Kodama, Stars Killer Mike, Monster Klute, Cheat Steal & Lie / You Should Be Ashamed Chris Knight, The Jealous Kind Krust and Die, I Kamanchi Ted Leo and the Pharmacists, Hearts of Oak Miary Lepiera, Soro Los Lonely Boys, Los Lonely Boys Shelby Lynne, Identity Crisis Lumidee, Almost Famous Lyrics Born, Later That Day… Michelle Malone, Stompin’ Ground Eugene Maslov, The Fuse Is Lit Delbert McClinton, Live The Del McCoury Band, It’s Just the Night John Mellencamp, Trouble No More Allison Moorer, Show Mull Historical Society, Us Nappy Roots, Wooden Leather Sevara Nazarkhan, Yol Bolsin Oranger, Shutdown the Sun Over the Rhine, Ohio Panjabi MC, Beware A.B. Quintanilla Presents the Kumbia Kings, 4 Charlie Robison, Live Virginia Rodrigues, Mares Profundos Scrapomatic, Scrapomatic Sir Mix-a-lot, Daddy’s Home Kevin So, Leaving the Lights On Marty Stuart, Country Music Super Furry Animals, Phantom Power Susheela Raman, Love Trap Ringo Starr, Ringo Rama Stereolab, ABC Music Stew, Something Deeper Than These Changes Kelley Stoltz, Antique Glow Nada Surf, Let Go T.I., Trap Muzik Nobukazu Takemura, Songbook Jacky Terrasson, Smile Tosca, Delhi9 James Blood Ulmer, No Escape From the Blues: The Electric Lady Sessions Jimmy Wayne, Jimmy Wayne The White Stripes, Elephant The Ying Yang Twins, Me and My Brother ZZ Top, Mescalero
10.11.03
songism I: Jimmy Wayne, "The Rabbit"
This is a folk-rock song in country clothes. It is a song about domestic violence. It is a song about revenge, about violence, about the legal system backing up revenge and violence. And it is a song about a Bugs Bunny cartoon possibly inspiring a woman to shoot her abusive husband.
Jimmy Wayne grew up in a very abusive and chaotic household. He had to live with grandparents when his mother went to prison. After she got out, she hooked up with a very abusive man, whom she married. His stepfather tried to shoot him when he was 13 but he pushed the gun away. The same man shot and paralyzed Wayne's sister-in-law, and beat and stabbed his mother on Mother's Day. She lived, but Wayne continued to live in group homes. A nice older couple helped him find Jesus, helped him develop his gifts for poetry and art and singing. Now he has an album out and a great haircut and looks like a sexier more soulful James Van Der Beek.
The kids in the song are all sitting watching Bugs Bunny, you see, laughing because that Elmer Fudd vs. Bugs Bunny stuff is classic all the way. The mother in the song sees it too, and "She just stood there washin' thinkin'." The chorus ends, "It ain't gonna be fun / When the rabbit gets the gun." At the end, when she is acquitted of her charges, "Even the judge himself was smiling." The song's last line is "What's up now, doc?"
This record, and Jimmy Wayne's self-titled debut album, are out on SKG/Dreamworks records, and they are working his biography as a troubled, abused, transient, poor, white-trash kid everywhere. It's almost as if you cannot know about Jimmy Wayne without knowing about "Jimmy Wayne." And one certainly hears "The Rabbit" with this in mind: This is a slightly fictionalized version of Jimmy Wayne's real life.
This is not necessarily a bad thing. I don't care, I don't mind. I like the song, I like Jimmy Wayne as a songwriter and as a singer, and I think he's got a hell of a lot of promise. I like "Jimmy Wayne" the myth, too--there are STILL a lot of kids out there who are just like he was growing up, I knew a lot of them when I was a kid in Oregon, I've dealt with them as a social worker and as a teacher and now, as a parent; they go to school with my kids, they ride their bikes around the neighborhood, they are everywhere, little Jimmy Waynes growing up all over. Not many of them will write poetry or draw or get checks from David Geffen. But some will, maybe. One of them made it.
I hope the myth is true but it doesn't matter if it isn't. I hope Jimmy Wayne becomes a huge star, I hope a million people buy his record and make him rich. I want to see what happens now.
This is a folk-rock song in country clothes. It is a song about domestic violence. It is a song about revenge, about violence, about the legal system backing up revenge and violence. And it is a song about a Bugs Bunny cartoon possibly inspiring a woman to shoot her abusive husband.
Jimmy Wayne grew up in a very abusive and chaotic household. He had to live with grandparents when his mother went to prison. After she got out, she hooked up with a very abusive man, whom she married. His stepfather tried to shoot him when he was 13 but he pushed the gun away. The same man shot and paralyzed Wayne's sister-in-law, and beat and stabbed his mother on Mother's Day. She lived, but Wayne continued to live in group homes. A nice older couple helped him find Jesus, helped him develop his gifts for poetry and art and singing. Now he has an album out and a great haircut and looks like a sexier more soulful James Van Der Beek.
The kids in the song are all sitting watching Bugs Bunny, you see, laughing because that Elmer Fudd vs. Bugs Bunny stuff is classic all the way. The mother in the song sees it too, and "She just stood there washin' thinkin'." The chorus ends, "It ain't gonna be fun / When the rabbit gets the gun." At the end, when she is acquitted of her charges, "Even the judge himself was smiling." The song's last line is "What's up now, doc?"
This record, and Jimmy Wayne's self-titled debut album, are out on SKG/Dreamworks records, and they are working his biography as a troubled, abused, transient, poor, white-trash kid everywhere. It's almost as if you cannot know about Jimmy Wayne without knowing about "Jimmy Wayne." And one certainly hears "The Rabbit" with this in mind: This is a slightly fictionalized version of Jimmy Wayne's real life.
This is not necessarily a bad thing. I don't care, I don't mind. I like the song, I like Jimmy Wayne as a songwriter and as a singer, and I think he's got a hell of a lot of promise. I like "Jimmy Wayne" the myth, too--there are STILL a lot of kids out there who are just like he was growing up, I knew a lot of them when I was a kid in Oregon, I've dealt with them as a social worker and as a teacher and now, as a parent; they go to school with my kids, they ride their bikes around the neighborhood, they are everywhere, little Jimmy Waynes growing up all over. Not many of them will write poetry or draw or get checks from David Geffen. But some will, maybe. One of them made it.
I hope the myth is true but it doesn't matter if it isn't. I hope Jimmy Wayne becomes a huge star, I hope a million people buy his record and make him rich. I want to see what happens now.
8.11.03
poemism I: "for mack, kinda"
he tried very hard in his opinion
but the judge she did not agree
public defender without real hair sweating
called everyone he could but nothing
could erase the smirk of the ADA
so went to the ethan allen school for boys
and learned how to do penance pushups
had him in a group for substance abusers
he ripped through the steps like no tomorrow
at least he is vigorous said his evaluator
ten months later got a probation officer
his grandmother kissing him, cousins laughing
back at LaFollette High people leave him alone
his caseworker is pretty cool
plays chess with him after school
one night has to go down to The Hole
not to buy that rock but to get his cousin out
sees Markie B, oh shit, Markie B
beatdown is swift and brutal like life
he learns truly about the unfairness of the great wheel
he tried very hard in his opinion
but the judge she did not agree
public defender without real hair sweating
called everyone he could but nothing
could erase the smirk of the ADA
so went to the ethan allen school for boys
and learned how to do penance pushups
had him in a group for substance abusers
he ripped through the steps like no tomorrow
at least he is vigorous said his evaluator
ten months later got a probation officer
his grandmother kissing him, cousins laughing
back at LaFollette High people leave him alone
his caseworker is pretty cool
plays chess with him after school
one night has to go down to The Hole
not to buy that rock but to get his cousin out
sees Markie B, oh shit, Markie B
beatdown is swift and brutal like life
he learns truly about the unfairness of the great wheel
6.11.03
Anthony Miccio does something I always used to love to do: make up a fake band and then make up fake songs for the fake band's fake albums. In fact, a real band was formed out of me doing that with my high school buddy Jim Titus; our fake punk band Blood Pudding turned into a real punk band called Blood Pudding when I was still out east and Jim got out of the Army. It later turned into the Portland roots band the Range Pigs and now I think Mellotone but maybe not. Anyway, this is always the fun thing. I think I'll get me some of that.
Band: Aw Yeah!
Genre: Religious Country Boy-Band
Album: The Skirtwhirl Projektt
Tracklisting:
1. "Throw Your Hands in the Air (And Wave 'Em Like You're Sayin' a Prayer)"
2. "One Set of Footprints"
3. "I Don't Care If I'm Fashionable"
4. "Satan Gives Me the Heebie-Jeebies"
5. "Hayride Honey"
6. "It's Okay If You Don't Wanna Shake It"
7. "Ninjas for the Lord"
8. "The Message Song (Soap Operas Ain't Like Life)"
9. "Don't Kick the Messenger"
10. "Join Hands for the Little Girl Lost in the Woods"
11. "You're Real, and You're Real Cute"
12. "Dinosaurs, Big Bangs, and Other Bad Jokes"
13. "Hayride Honey (Timbaland Bluegrass Dance Mix)"
Band: Aw Yeah!
Genre: Religious Country Boy-Band
Album: The Skirtwhirl Projektt
Tracklisting:
1. "Throw Your Hands in the Air (And Wave 'Em Like You're Sayin' a Prayer)"
2. "One Set of Footprints"
3. "I Don't Care If I'm Fashionable"
4. "Satan Gives Me the Heebie-Jeebies"
5. "Hayride Honey"
6. "It's Okay If You Don't Wanna Shake It"
7. "Ninjas for the Lord"
8. "The Message Song (Soap Operas Ain't Like Life)"
9. "Don't Kick the Messenger"
10. "Join Hands for the Little Girl Lost in the Woods"
11. "You're Real, and You're Real Cute"
12. "Dinosaurs, Big Bangs, and Other Bad Jokes"
13. "Hayride Honey (Timbaland Bluegrass Dance Mix)"
4.11.03
Why I Am Dropping Out of NaNoWriMo
I really wanted to do this, but there's just no way. My life is so up in the air right now, my time is so limited right now, my relationships are so important right now, everything's stretched too tight. Plus, my first chapters have all self-destructed themselves, and it's been because I've been too tired or too worried about 'quality' or 'story' and all that crapola I always get hung up on. But that's not really it. What it's about is APPRECIATION.
I've been thinking about this for a long time--I even titled my first (half-written then abandoned) novel Appreciation. My basic deal is that I don't really appreciate what I have. I have so many CDs and albums and cassettes that I love SO MUCH, but all I can think of is what I'm getting next. This greed has led to me writing too many reviews, missing deadlines, promising things to people that I can't deliver; more importantly, it's led to me not being able to enjoy Sunday morning cartoons with my children, because I'm writing reviews on the laptop.
And what should I appreciate more than time with my kids? Than interactions with my wife? Than just simply listening to music, enjoying it, analyzing it even though it might be a few months or years old? What do I need that I don't have?
Well, one of the things I have always wanted is that mythical grown-up writing career. Yeah, I already have four books published in real form and one on the internet (that "read 'the sanchez report' link to the right will take you there), and they're all good, but they're for kids, and I still have one little tiny part of myself that thinks that it's my destiny to write for people who can afford their own books. (See, I work like a dog to establish something, and then I don't appreciate what I have. Pathetic.)
That Nobel Prize Grown-up Book Famous Writer Guy dream was one of the things I hoped to rekindle by writing My Homonculus on NaNoWriMo. (Which is, if you're too lazy to click this link, a deal where you're supposed to stop whining and just hunker down and write a 50,000 word novel in November. Great idea! Great incentive! Just...
...just crap timing, for me right now in my life. I need to appreciate what I already have, and appreciate the dangers/difficulties/challenges coming up for me, for us, for my whole world. So yeah, sorry My Homonculus, the deck was stacked against you from the start.
I really wanted to do this, but there's just no way. My life is so up in the air right now, my time is so limited right now, my relationships are so important right now, everything's stretched too tight. Plus, my first chapters have all self-destructed themselves, and it's been because I've been too tired or too worried about 'quality' or 'story' and all that crapola I always get hung up on. But that's not really it. What it's about is APPRECIATION.
I've been thinking about this for a long time--I even titled my first (half-written then abandoned) novel Appreciation. My basic deal is that I don't really appreciate what I have. I have so many CDs and albums and cassettes that I love SO MUCH, but all I can think of is what I'm getting next. This greed has led to me writing too many reviews, missing deadlines, promising things to people that I can't deliver; more importantly, it's led to me not being able to enjoy Sunday morning cartoons with my children, because I'm writing reviews on the laptop.
And what should I appreciate more than time with my kids? Than interactions with my wife? Than just simply listening to music, enjoying it, analyzing it even though it might be a few months or years old? What do I need that I don't have?
Well, one of the things I have always wanted is that mythical grown-up writing career. Yeah, I already have four books published in real form and one on the internet (that "read 'the sanchez report' link to the right will take you there), and they're all good, but they're for kids, and I still have one little tiny part of myself that thinks that it's my destiny to write for people who can afford their own books. (See, I work like a dog to establish something, and then I don't appreciate what I have. Pathetic.)
That Nobel Prize Grown-up Book Famous Writer Guy dream was one of the things I hoped to rekindle by writing My Homonculus on NaNoWriMo. (Which is, if you're too lazy to click this link, a deal where you're supposed to stop whining and just hunker down and write a 50,000 word novel in November. Great idea! Great incentive! Just...
...just crap timing, for me right now in my life. I need to appreciate what I already have, and appreciate the dangers/difficulties/challenges coming up for me, for us, for my whole world. So yeah, sorry My Homonculus, the deck was stacked against you from the start.
2.11.03
100 Words About My Non-Existent Second Wife
Out of yr cloud with yr mythical short blond hair,
vision Liza had in a dream. You like to dance,
yr smile is quick, unguarded, and my mom loves you.
You work for a shelter, some floaty non-profit; you cry
at the thoughts others don't think, you cry for them.
But at the end of the day we drink wine,
hold each other, sex or not, drift away into dreamsville.
I will never meet you, you only exist in my
wife's subconscious. But I wanted to say hi. You sound
cool. Wherever you are, good luck, don't cry. It's okay.
Out of yr cloud with yr mythical short blond hair,
vision Liza had in a dream. You like to dance,
yr smile is quick, unguarded, and my mom loves you.
You work for a shelter, some floaty non-profit; you cry
at the thoughts others don't think, you cry for them.
But at the end of the day we drink wine,
hold each other, sex or not, drift away into dreamsville.
I will never meet you, you only exist in my
wife's subconscious. But I wanted to say hi. You sound
cool. Wherever you are, good luck, don't cry. It's okay.
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