Wow. That music sounds like an alarm clock. In reference to "big commercial house and techno" A-Trak recently blogged the phrase "well past that thin line of where it’s funky". I think too much dance of the times is doing that ya?
Here's a contemporary dance classic by Bird Peterson. Quick question: do you correct the names of mp3's? For instance, when somebody thinks "Werewolves of London" was by Billy Joel (Billy I love you but you couldn't do that), or that "Baba O'Riley" is called "Teenage Wasteland". Bird had it named right, and good thing, because the tune is crucial.
More postage coming today. I mean it. This is the week before I go on vacation, so lets make it count. I'm still disturbed by that video, I cannot lie.
This winter the daytime headquarters of Grilling It, has been a dusty record store, so today, I've ripped a few songs that I enjoyed today and run them through the post-o-matic.
We're working on a return to form. The staff of Grilling It will be warming up the pavement that is the path to summer with a smattering of epic text/photo/song/text/video/photo streams of radness.
As I typed yesterday, BACK TO THE GRILL!
Not epic like the new Hulk movie (more on that gratuitous exercise in needlessness later), but epic like Indiana Jones in the Iron Man suit fighting Charlatan Heshtown for the ten commandments tablets, dipping them in a volcano of gold and handing them to Bun B (who, it turns out, is actually A GIANT).
Epic. Impossible to duplicate. One of a kind.
Every summer is epic in its own ways. Sometimes you have to dig deeper, look harder, or travel further, but that's all mumbo jumbo on a cloudy Vantasy Island day as I yell GIVE ME BACK MY SUN!
Last summer, I had the pleasure of going to a stadium called "The Library":
They YELLED and SCREAMED and CHANTED at a pro athlete: "Have you ever heard of a boy called ASHLEY!" Amidst cries of "poofter!" and a word that rhymes with front. Ashley's the bloke on the right.
Now, summerists version point oh ate!
Have you ever heard of a boy called Alice?
Everyone out there who is sweating all the futuristic noises and robojox jams...well...for you...here's something everyone can enjoy (those hiding in rave caves under their electro blankets will also enjoy):
"Sick of lame dudes, frontin with that attitude, talkin' bout they rims and all they damn tennis shoes," -Dj Quik
All right, you can go now. Here's a gorgeous song that the Alice Cooper reminded me of. In my little corner of the world, this qualifies as "Lovers Rock." LCD SOUNDSYSTEM - Great Release
See you on sunset.
BBQ
PS: For the committed:
PSS: Don't sleep on Wayne's World 2. If you do, sleep upside down.
Now it's time to bring out the headliners, they've been on top of the pops, they've been on "This Evening with Nigel Craze", they were voted "Indiest indies" on MNE.co.uk, now...here they are...the hottest band in all the land:
I don't know why, but I like the Klaxons way more without the vocals. Did I break some rule with that? Current coolness arbiters, don't take away my "c pass", I still want to go to shows and wear shoes with holes in them without cute girls telling me I'm "dressed like a tramp".
This instrumental is already hiring a crack team of defense lawyers for the case of "Currently Fourteen Year Old's Spines and Brains vs The New Rave Movement."
Damn babylon barristration can't even spell "Nu" correctly.
