Sounds.

I worked my way backwards with Dimlite. Middle and back rather. My first full length came after enjoying a fresh mind expansion from Rush Hour’s Beat Dimensions release. A title that came out mid last year. This collection showcased the top creative producers and beatheads. I don’t like to call these guys producers. Sound innovators? Sure are. Creatives is better. Geniuses is gushing.

A few really stood out. Less maybe. Dimlite did.

Starting as I did from his second release, This Is Embracing is so well constructed, smooth and incredibly complex. Knobs turning, pads beat with abstract precision. Each track layers sounds, clips, warps and tones that amuse, befuddle and warm with technique. I fell instantly in love with his music. Now just getting to his first release, Runbox Weathers, it’s very similar but so much rawer. You can hear his genesis and it’s very pleasing. “Oh? That’s your Point A.” It’s a pleasant, totally unexpected surprise. The sounds are simpler and the execution is too. It is therefore a dirtier release, while still magnificent. The ear and mind of Dimlite directs brilliant digits. 

So today we meet Misel Quitno. A non de plume for Dimlite’s nom de plume. The evolution continues. It’s just like in your dream.  The prettiest one. Invoking Raymond Scott in a neo soul super space, a delicate unreleased '80s French soundtrack, slightly fusion, psych folk acoustics, musique concrete, songful science fiction... Misel Quitno is regality expressed as an artist. Classically glorious in ingenuity.

At special times, you notice something familiar, soon realizing it was Dimlite you were thinking of. But the reunion of what you're hearing now, shows the bloke's moved into a different neighborhood. Same family, just years later with new shoes and new fall semester clothes.

I want to marry him and have French babies with him. Neither he nor I are French.

Like Two Bitter Strangers. A Correction.

Terror Twilight is a great album.

Capistrano Swallow, Answer to Your Inner Voice

I've started taking meditation classes.

Like real meditation.

Turns out the teacher is a disciple of Swami Kriyananda, a direct disciple of Paramhansa Yogananda. A couple years ago I got halfway through his book, Autobiography of a Yogi. I didn't realize this was the study I was signing up for. This pleases me though. It's the practice my dad studied when I was a kid. I didn't realize that either. I have always said the dad I knew then is different from the dad I know now. Both are good dads to know but the the former had a really mellow vibe. It was great to have it around when I was little. One thing he would say about the teachings that's always stuck with me is that they believe we don't have a body. I think I'm smart but I couldn't get that. Fortunately, our teacher reviewed this philosophy in our first class. It makes sense now. I get it.

I'm hoping this helps with my hopelessness. That doesn't make any sense. Just give me the truth. I signed up when for the first time in my life I realized I couldn't figure something out. The pain seemed excruciating. But I finally knew I just needed to sit.

Chips and Dips.

Love the new Hot Chip. Didn't expect anything less. Every time I see those geekfunkfuckers I dance for hours and declare at their exit, "YOU'RE NOT DONE YET!" I am not alone.

One of the frontmen is around my height. He's little. He's the higher tone. He's the funkiest of the bunch.

I had to mention a point about why Hot Chip is good and why Vampire Weekend is annoying. My immediacy... sorry that my post is elementary.

Considering Hot Chip's, "One Pure Thought." The song is Zulu. Afreakan. These guys clearly have roots in music. Not fad. Even starts off with guitars rather than groove. But the music isn't simple. You're drawn in by the changes and the fun hooks. Traditional Hot Chip. I feel like I'm talking about Barbie or something. It's got a groove. And I can really get down to it. But seriously - I think it's in a harmony within the song. They do a little chanting riff comprised of "I won't be on my way, I won't be on my way," and then lay octaves above with a melody that trails down. It's so pretty and it's a smart blend. Intriguing.

And jokes. There's a thing about sense of humor that really connects me to things. Seems strange to put it into music though. Right? Music is just our emotional tone. Literally. But! If you can put some wit and a wink into a song and still pull it off, it represents genius. You're not telling a poo joke just for a laugh. It's poo with point.

That's Hot Chip. They're music is regular dance. But IDM as it is intelligent. But their brand of IDM features no krinking juxtapositions to MAKE you feel IDM'd. That's the wink. It's just dance funky but the cliche is so dead-on that their excellence in technique makes it go to "the next level." Voila, C'est IDM. Whatever.

Give the same to Vampire Weekend, and it's a bunch of snotty kids who enjoy their dad's African section in his Hi-Fi collection. Their youth is their novelty not their craft. Nothing changes in the music. It's note for note practically.

Yes. I am playing on my own simile. It is trite? No. It is complete.

Their publicity kit states, "Will make you 40% happier." Or something like that. Definitely the 40%. My work's music librarian was saying, "Yeah. And that's it."

Exactly.

"I'm only going to Heaven if it feels like Hell. I'm only going to Heaven if it tastes like caramel."

I love Hot Chip.



While we're here, take a moment for this, Planning To Rock.

Conflict Of Interests.

Woke up with this thought on my mind...

Why is it that the truth scares us, but to lie makes us feel safe?
Until we learn the truth.

Interesting what we do to protect ourselves.

Put It To Me Rose Marie.

"I'm Not There." The soundtrack is an indie rock festival at Chapel Hill. "I'm Not There." The soundtrack is the music department at my radio station. "I'm Not There." The soundtrack is available as part of the Eclectic Pack from our Music Director.

Packs at work are created during our subscription drives so people can get on and off the phone with us quickly, knowing they're selecting a "sealed with approval by KCRW" premium for their support. This, along with the other benefits of membership and support to us is enough for many members. But the packs specifically... We move calls, they get stuff. It's a win-win. What does this mean to you? It means that many times in a day as advertisement of our Eclectic pack I'll hear Richie Havens jam out, "Tombstone Blues," or Jim James (backed by Calexico) ominously howl, "Goin' To Acapulco." However, I'm surprised by just how much my timbers shiver to this latter track. On principle, I am not a fan of Jim's band. To know me is to know this is not a statement of elitism. Just taste. Of fact. They are the American Coldplay. They are unimaginative and predictable, charming by a dull halcyon effect. Not fair to the human psyche. Pandering. But this song is getting me. I vividly remember how solemn and bizarre a scene it was on screen and how those images were so visceral accompanied by that song. It is Dylan imagery after all. Just how poignantly obtuse do you want it? It heavied a cool evening. Enjoyably.



For certain, the soundtrack isn't a solid hit for me. I'm glad we mostly play just those tracks. If they threw in some of the Yo La Tengo, Charlotte Gainsbourg or Malkmus AND Lee Ranaldo's (my fave Youth) version of "I Can't Leave Her Behind," (a version sung so nicely by Malkmus, using the SM canorous twang, softened with his late-in-life submission to romance, a bit of sincerity for the heroine and some reverence for the author)... If we played some of those, I would be wholeheartedly proud of my station's accomplishments. In the meantime, I really do adore my workplace. I'm grateful. We're a group of bright and energetic folk. Even the lame ducks are at least birds of a different feather. Furthermore, they allow and pay me to exert control while wearing Vans. I'm totally into it.

Here's a site with all the CDs we have available. It's a shiny but very new creation of ours - listing CDs on our site - so forgive if it navigates like a 15 year old girl driving stick. It's Beta and made in something like 10 days.

So back to Dylan.

Along with the accompanying new friendship of the gifter (once an unnecessary nemesis), another late happening I've enjoyed as a work perk has been a brand new copy of, "The Johnny Cash Show: 1969 - 1971." It is outstanding.

The broadcast studios were obviously located in the Lord's backyard, while his big Dad-In-the Sky BBQ'd franks, dogs and poured pop for the guests. I don't use that lightly and I mean it specifically. Music has an ineffable backstory that shakes and tickles from invisible staves and Johnny Cash collected this phenomena in his show. Yeah - he was party planning with the Lord.

Narrated by Kris Kristofferson and opening with a young yet arriving Dylan, no' doubt - this DVD and performance is tops. I feel so bright eyed by things like this, I wish there were a way we could kiss time. I guess that's why we make stuff.

I've enjoyed learning that Dylan's brilliance was somewhat calculated by him. Meaning - Dylan pretty much knew what was available to him and that in the beginning, the trail was probably so brightly lit that Dylan smirked with the excitement, exposing his own inside glow about the deal. It can be seen in this performance.

To make us present now, I'm going to SF in a couple weeks to hang with my original music posse. Goin' to have some fun. We'll be seeing Six Organs of Admittance. And I'm reading The Picture of Dorian Gray. I've never loved a gay man more than I love this writer. He is so horrible. Quel philosophe. In the next two weeks I'll also be enjoying the last two shows of this season’s Arthur Magazine Sunday Festivals, but still, I’ll be surprisingly envious of my SF friends. They're going to Terrastock 7 in freakin' Louisville over my birthday weekend - which is also the first day of Summer. It'd be kinda cool to see all that music on the Summer Solstice, ya' know? But considering Kathy has booked previous Terrastocks as well as tour managed a lot of these bands, she deserves this trip. Me? I'm just not financially set up for it yet. However, I too deserve the show and I'd let you take me for the ride.

HOLYSHITIVENEVERDONETHATBEFORE

All of 'em...


And I can already see my next word, NAESOREF.

One Wafer Thin Mint.

Brownies, muffins, lasagna, salad (whatever), chicken mole enchiladas, coffee, Mani's, olive bread walnut rolls, sourdough, egg bagels, ice cream, saag paneer, tzazaki, mousaka...

These are my days. Day two. So many carbs and coffee. When did my fantasy become my horror?

Are 11 days of binge eating really so bad? Generally, I eat salads everyday and I was once obsessed to popularity with broccoli. We are all so healthy.



Today I told someone, "Take it down. Now." And I was talking about his attitude. I couldn't believe I said it. I must remember to focus. But it was true. He wouldn't get over the idea that a volunteer, "might need to take their medication." He wasn't insulting her. This was his concern. I told him I thought she was a creative. Episode Abstract: "I saw a crazy woman. She rushed by us and sat down in her green jacket. Then... She was gone. I went by your desk... and now there's a green jacket at your chair! I saw a crazy woman put a green jacket on your chair!"
He sure did. It was me. I own a green jacket. "Take it down. Now."

Furthermore, it's the dead of winter and my beach is packed. Mr. Cho thinks I should get my hose out and start spraying from the second floor.

My one concern tonight? How to get the cat food to last through till tomorrow.
And we're going to run out. Rufus is going to kill me.
And I have got to wash the dishes.

Vampire Weekend Tonight.

I just can't wrap my opinion around Vampire Weekend yet. They have got to be so young with their proud attitude of their culturally rich pop music combo. They do have one up on Paul Simon. It's absolutely true. If Paul Simon weren't Paul Simon, quite possibly Graceland would just be an album some little white guy made singing in the shower while listening to the African section of his Hi-Fi collection.

But still. They are youth. The false modesty, genre name dropping, songs about girls on campus...
After my recent Pavement revelation, I'm just not so sure about music that is quick too make me bounce with glee. And they do. Great to get dressed too but so very innocent. Yet so insincerely sincere. Perhaps that's a condition of their seeming affluence? I say seeming but their alignment to ivy league and literary classes is questionable. Rich white guys are just so droll. And hence I am having difficulty.

There's great potential for them to seriously blow up. I hear Hot Hot Heat on the bill and the teens going wild. Coachella. Spin Magazine...

I think I'm mostly having a reaction to the awkward phrasing vocals they use. Anytime there's affectation, I get weary. Affect for effect? That's a cheap shot, a shot in the dark, a crutch. I work at a station that milks these crutches, so I've heard and I see quite a few - and guess what...I believe they just might be coming in for a performance.

But guess what even more - I totally want them to.

And they lyrics to Oxford Comma are pretty great.

See. I can't figure it out.

Back to the vocals. Check out this video: A-Punk Video
Great music. Really dig. But why does he sing this way? Is he from the Congo? However, I do dig. Totally.

But then there's their disingenuous humility. I can't knock it. Try this Fader article. I think I'm just having a case of White Man Mistrust and they really aren't so bad. Like rich boys that kill to have fun with society because regular good times are just too easy.

Sure. I bet that's what it is.

Rainy Day Drive.

KCRW Subscription Drive begins tomorrow. I'm in charge.

No really. I am.

Tuesday we had to shut the entire station down. Shut it down. We almost caught on fire. Major electrical problem that needed to be fixed at 1PM rather than AM. Dig?

Attached photo features, "Singey" - The Fire Culprit.

Fire Marshals are scheduled to visit this week.

It's raining and will continue to through at least Monday, Tuesday of next week. After a past Fire Marshal visit, we have all of our food services outside. And we've got some delicious food. Yum.

We've got tents and we work hard. At least it'll be exciting. Aside from the usual hysteria.

I wonder if my dream last night about my top staffer buying cocaine and hiding a drug problem is reflexive of my concern.

What's really crazy is how uncannily similar Singey is to our latest mascot:

Rattled By The Rush.

Newer Pavement is sort of annoying and I don't know who I am anymore.

Actually, that's not true at all. Firm ground now. Terra firma, c'est moi voila.

After my 40th listen to the new Radar Bros., I realized I really missed Wowee Zowee and Terror Twilight and Brighten the Corners and I really wanted to hear them again. Decided to make them mobile and checked out all the last records from work so I could import them and play with them on the iPod. Understandably, I would want to blast them from the car (like I used to) or enjoy them on the treadmill (like I do now). Et cetera. And I only have the vinyl. And the two Deluxe Re-issues.

Of course.

OhMyGod. Jesus Christ. WTF. Holy Shit.

Those last albums...not 100%...but shit. So freakin' goofy.

I'm sad.

Heartbroken. C'mon Mr. Malkmus. Why couldn't we just play chess and read books together? Why couldn't you just make your crazy word poetry for me and let me look at your pretty, pretty fingers? What happened? When did it happen and how come I didn't notice...until now? I would never say he was affected but - but maybe unnecessarily punctuative.

No wonder I've never been a Jicks fan.

HOWEVER

In a state of panic from me, M(aura) did come through. She's my aural doppelganger. She reminded me, "Frontwards and the album from whence it came," to quote.

Ah...Slanted and Enchanted. Good old Gary Young - I played a show with him too. We're even both listed on the poster. He had alcoholic eyes. Man. And my song! Summer Babe. My birthday is the first day of summer. All of these things that further solidified my belief that Stephen and I would one day be married.

Guitars. Treble Kicker. Indeed. Pentatonic Pop Scale. It's so simple. Crossword Puzzle Lyrics. Screams. So much screaming. I could just eat him alive. Wish I could. New liner notes reference their need for girlfriends. If only I could've been there with my googly eyes...



Regards,

La Shu


P.S. Wowee Zowee and Spit On A Stranger are still pretty cool though. Just sayin'.

Nina Simone, God Damn.

I love Nina Simone. She used a lexicon of her own discovery and it made her a master translator. I would've loved to have seen what she would've done with Borges. I've started reading Wilde. It'd be neat to have seen what she'd do with that fop as well. For whatever reasons, it hasn't been until hearing her sing, "Suzanne," that I even comprehended what Leonard Cohen put down.

Love and spirituality. We dance a little and then remember God. Rhythm. Isn't that just life?