November 2, 2010

What is it about Sundays that makes me feel like I need to get my life back together…pronto. Wait, I think I know. Maybe it’s because I hang out until 4am on Friday and Saturday nights and wake up Sundays feeling like I duked it out with Iron Mike for 12 rounds. Could be it.

Listen, I brush my teeth twice a day and all that, but flossing seems to be one of the little rituals I engage in to go that extra mile (read: inch) towards being a respectable human being. Just so happens I do it most often on Sundays. That and I do my laundry. And eat a salad for dinner. And maybe even pay my credit card bill. After all that I’m feeling pretty good. So good that I almost forget that I thought it was sweet idea to crush falafel at 3:26 in the morning then walk all the way back to the West Village from Alphabet City because I thought it would be good exercise, not to mention an extra $5.30 in my pocket from saved cab fare. (On a related note, the number of times I’ve woken up on a Sunday with a single $1 dollar bill in my pocket blows my mind).

At least Johnny Cash feels my pain. This is one of my all time favorites from the Man in Black:

“Sunday Morning Coming Down”

Dead Man

November 2, 2010

Watched Dead Man the other day. Observation: Johnny Depp is a much cooler mystic drug-tripping, revolver-packing rogue cowboy than he is a swishy Disney pirate. But now I understand where he began to mine the latter character. Still, no excuse bud. Also, I want to eat a cheeseburger with Jim Jarmusch. Score’s by Neil Young.

Make Warpaint not War

November 2, 2010

I like girls that sing. They’re pretty cool. And a lot of the badder music I’ve heard lately has featured girls singing lead. Relax, this is by no means a qualifier, but merely an observation from a dude who grew up on Mobb Deep and Wu Tang and counts Toro Y Moi, Washed Out, Atlas Sound, Flying Lotus, etc., amongst my favorites of the year. But when I hear a great record fronted by a woman, I get extra jazzed, because it’s outside my normal wheelhouse. Plus there’s the underlying sexual intrigue. Nah mean?

So in addition to the previously mentioned Best Coast, Tennis and Glasser, I’m digging Warpaint. What’s not to love about a group led by three LA girls…called Warpaint. Count me in. Combine killer bass, ethereal/detached vocals and some jangly, darkish rock instrumentation and you get a formula that kills shit, on the “I’m too cool for you anyway” tip.