The Black Angels’ Death Songs

Austin-based act The Black Angels have been unleashing their hypnotic, neo-psychedelic music upon the masses for a while now, but I’m just getting caught up. Fuzzy, bluesy songs about death, destruction and isolation pepper their first 3 full-length releases – all striking a seemingly perfect balance between vibes both primitive and polished.

The self-proclaimed ‘Native American Drone n’ Rollers’ have a new album called Phosphene Dream due out on Blue Horizon Records in September. Here’s a taste called “Bad Vibrations.” I’m obsessed with the basslines.

Here’s video for the being-badass track “Black Grease,” off their debut LP Passover. It’s all swagger.

“So just kill kill kill kill!”

ONE MORE: Loving this collaboration they did recently with UNKLE called Natural Selection. A little more playful.

Go to their awesome official site for trippy video footage and a ton of other live tracks and photos.

art & design, stories

The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved.

I stumbled across Hunter S. Thompson’s infamous coverage of the 1970 Kentucky Derby on Ralph Steadman’s site. Originally published by Scanlan’s Monthly, the piece marked the emergence of gonzo journalism and the first of many collaborations between Thompson and the illustrator.

Filled with all the wonderfully twisted observations of America’s wretches and the manic, alcohol-fueled first-person rants that would mark Thompson’s future work, the account cuts to the stink and sinful excess surrounding one of sports’ most revered events. The duo emerge from the debauched weekend mace and whiskey-soaked — as hapless and bloated as the characters they set out to parody. Wonderful stuff!

Steadman later recounting that first encounter with Thompson:

“I had turned around and two fierce eyes, firmly socketed inside a bullet-shaped head, were staring at a strange growth I was nurturing on the end of my chin. ‘Holy shit!’ he [Thompson] exclaimed. ‘They said I was looking for a matted-haired geek with string warts and I guess I’ve found him.’ […] This man had an impressive head chiselled from one piece of bone, and the top part was covered down to his eyes by a floppy-brimmed sun hat. His top half was draped in a loose-fitting hunting jacket of multi-coloured patchwork. He wore seersucker blue pants, and the whole torso was pivoted on a pair of huge white plimsolls with a fine red trim around the bulkheads. Damn near 6-foot-6 of solid bone and meat holding a beaten-up leather bag across his knee and a loaded cigarette holder between the arthritic fingers of his other hand.”

The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved


I Just Died A Little Inside

Liz Phair has a new album out. It’s called Funstyle. Not that I expected much, but this one hurts. Perhaps I’ll put a more coherent review together when my brain recovers from listening to a former idol rapping self-deprecatingly over Indian-themed beats. And I GET that it’s a joke and that she’s making fun of her has-been record-industry status. But that still doesn’t mean I like it. Listen for yourself:

Here is the album cover. So stupid.

art & design

Fly, Blackbird

Finally developed the film I took this winter from playing around with the new Blackbird Fly TLR I bought Rich for Christmas. Thought these shots came out pretty sweet so I scanned them in. It’s a fun little piece of plastic. Unpredictable light leaks and a really unique, old-fashioned shooting experience. I am not even an amateur photog but this thing is pretty inspiring.

Beacon Metro North Platform:

Our House – 70 South, BK:



Saw an amazing band about a month ago that I still can’t get out of my head. They are Jail Bait. And they rocked pretty hard.

The lineup: rowdy frontgirl channeling Karen-O, on the constant verge of totally losing her shit; bookish, mellow lead guitarist shredding harder than I’ve seen in years; plus two old men playing bass and guitar. Ok, the ‘old men’ are Matt McAuley & Brian McPeck of the infamous underground synth-rock act A.R.E Weapons, and they’re really just old in the context of the term ‘jailbait.’

Did some proper internet scouting on guitarist Alex Neimatz, who’s been gnarly since birth apparently. The girl won NYC’s “Shred For Your Life” guitar battle when she was only 16! She is by far the most talented female guitarist I’ve ever seen live. Period.

Totally blew us away. Raw energy. Sick riffs. Each song is 2-plus minutes of high-pitched punk meets 70s rock meets party hop meets who knows what. Run, go see them fast.

Grabbed some live footage from a show this winter off the Stupid Girl blog. More video there

Sick cover of Elvis’ “Don’t Be Cruel”:

wait for the 1:50 mark:

Shot from the Secret Project Robot show I saw (photo not taken by moi):