Inhuman Swill : Music : Page 12

The avocado album

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The new Pearl Jam album Pearl Jam comes out tomorrow. People are lining up around the block at the Tower Records at Broadway and 4th, where a midnight purchase of the new disc will also get you a free ticket to a secret Pearl Jam club show at Irving Plaza an "undisclosed location" this Friday.

We've known about this show for a few days now, and tempting as it is we finally decided that we're just too busy already this week to try to squeeze in a day-long wait on queue and a long night at Irving Plaza. Sigh. That would have been something.

But hey, there are compensations. I preordered my copy of the new album a while back, direct from the band, and it JUST NOW arrived in the mail, along with a bonus live disc of a 1992 New Year's Eve show at the Academy in New York City.

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April's CD mix of the month

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Delightful site of the morning

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http://www.passovergreeting.com

Yes, it's an advertisement (for a book—Schlepping Through the Alps by Sam Apple), but my adolescent, Doctor Demento–lovin' heart still found it amusing.

Happy Passover!

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Okay, I give up

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What is funky cold medina?

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Out getting mashed

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I'm a little late to the party, but the album in heavy rotation on my headphones this week is American Edit, a mashup of Green Day's American Idiot by Dean Gray (second-level nom de plume of Party Ben and Team9). If you haven't heard it, you can defy the Warner Bros. injunction and grab the tracks here. Hey, Billie Joe Armstrong thinks it's cool. (And here's a complete list of the samples used.)

I'm also listening a lot to the new Secret Machines album, Ten Silver Drops, which they've released in its entirety on iTunes a few weeks ahead of the street release.

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Weekend update

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I keep meaning to post a quick overview of what we've done since the start of the weekend, but as I put it off the list of things to mention becomes longer and the task of reporting more daunting. I'll just plunge in, like a dog into April snow.

Friday evening, as I mentioned before, Laura and I went to a stage production of Fahrenheit 451. At the theater bar before the show, Laura ran into an old coworker of hers and her new husband, who were there to see the same play. (There are three theaters at 59E59.) A lovely time was had catching up, and everyone in the impromptu party seemed to enjoy the show immensely.

Saturday Laura and I braved the wilds of New Jersey to call on [info]asphalteden and his multiadjectivial bride. (Don't worry! They're all appealing and impressive adjectives.) The evening's debauchery has been ably touched on elsewhere (WWMD, indeed!), but let me add that Laura and I were so full by the time we left we could barely walk. Good thing there are trains.

Sunday was a whale of a day. It went well for Laura, but for me it was one step forward, two steps back. We had a perfectly delightful time with Ella at Astoria Park in the morning, but in the early afternoon, while Laura was out and I was trying to get my Fahrenheit 451 review written, there was a colossal misunderstanding with the bathroom fixtures, and a rather unappealing tide began encroaching on the hallway. The worst part was, just as I was slapping down a towel to keep the foul brew from engulfing the pantry, the toilet gave a satisfied gurgle and suddenly the contents all drained away. It was as if the porcelain god were flipping me the bird.

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Where the money goes

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We were having an email discussion with some friends about what musicians we like are Scientologists. It started at Chick Corea, but by the time it got around to Beck our friends were asking if this means the money they spend on Beck albums might end up in L. Ron Hubbard's skeletal hands, and if they should be concerned by this. I said:

I'm sure that's what it means, yes. But part of your money will also go to getting Beck's children braces, and organic soy milk, and some of it will end up in the pockets of evil record company executives. I guess my feeling is that all the money we spend will eventually pass through hands we don't approve of, the same way all the atoms in our bodies will eventually recycle through other people and animals and trees and clouds and landfills. I guess I look at the pool of available money as a closed ecosystem, and some of it will always be in the hands of organizations we don't like. But it won't necessarily stay there. It will keep cycling and maybe do some good too.

I feel like money to Beck is a reward for talent, and for giving me some aural pleasure. ("Heh heh, he said aural pleasure.") I feel better about rewarding talent, even if the talent might give the money to L. Ron Hubbard Inc., than I do about giving money to faceless companies like Blockbuster and Land's End (is that right?) that donate huge amounts of money to causes I dislike. I can go elsewhere for videos or yuppie hippie clothing, but I can't go anywhere else for Beck music.

What do you think?

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Pod Metheny Group

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In more enlightening news, Pat Metheny has a video podcast!

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Because poor Kenny G seems to come in for abuse in this blog from time to time, I thought it might be fun to revisit what I consider one of the greatest examples of musician-on-musician slagging in the history of jazz writing: guitar giant Pat Metheny putting the hurt on well-known sax-noodler Kenny "G" Gorelick.

The material below was many years ago deleted from the Pat Metheny Group web site. Pat himself posted it in response to a fairly innocent question in the fan forum there no later than 2000, and I'm glad I saved a copy because it somehow vanished within the year. I've added capitalization to the text since Pat didn't seem to want to bother with the shift-key. Despite the fact that the sentence-by-sentence writing here sometimes falters, Pat is clearly articulate on the topic of jazz and very passionate.

Full disclosure: I've been a rabid fan of Pat Metheny since at least age 15. And even though I cut my teeth on smooth jazz (my first album purchase having been Feels So Good by Chuck Mangione), I've never ever been able to stomach Kenny G's "music."

So over to Pat.

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My contribution to the March CD Mix of the Month Club, meeting this evening at Antarctica Bar, will be Extroversion (and Other Examples of Psychobabble), with Covered with Cash generously thrown in as a Vernal Equinox bonus mix.

(The story so far.)

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