WFMU's Beware of the Blog

Metamorfose Ambulante

"Metamorfose Ambulante", by Raul Seixas: in some parts of the world, this song is a cultural anthem.  In our particularly little corner, it's just more grist for the mill.  Well, it's a well-tended mill.  So here are umpteen versions of a really beautiful song, just don't expect all of 'em to be as beautiful as this, the original. (Though the 1st five below are all well worth your time)

You need to watch that video, then here's a poetic, translated, rendering by a "Sir Bussy" to stream or download.

Well... there were umpteen versions.  I put a lotta work into finding all my favorites, but typepad crashed before I had properly saved a buncha killer youtube links to astoundingly different versions of this song, so I'll just tell you to search "raul seixas" and "metamorfose ambulante" on youtube. We don't need no stinking typepad.  Fuck typepad, i'm going to bed....

Wow  |  lonely Kansas housewife  |  high school choir  |  raul seixas himself, live  |  Ney Matogrosso (yes, that Ney Matogrosso)  |  raul against the machine  |  tuesday night at applebys  |  grunge, they say  |  METALmorfose ambulante  |  Tukley von Dio

Nice #4, the Zine You Could Play on Your Turntable

Several weeks back, while preparing for my contribution to WFMU's week-long celebration of the 7" known as Singles Going Steady, I rifled through the comps & splits 7" drawer and found the most frustratingly unknowable pair of records. They were clear flexis, seemingly torn from a magazine, bearing the word "Nice", the attribution "BarDor Productions", and a number (5, 6, 9 and 10), and that was it.  These records were anonymous, and possibly orphaned.  With such a near-complete lack of info, I had no choice but to listen.

I dropped the needle on one side... and heard some twisted gamelan-like orchestra recorded through 20 years of gauze; flipped and dropped it again... a disaffected woman's retelling of "Little Red Riding Hood" as though it had all just happened to her, on the Lower East Side; switched to the other disc and it's like The Inflatable Boy Clams hitched a flying saucer ride.  Everything I heard I absolutely loved.  All the voices sounded familiar but alien; all the music seemed trapped in time, though not in the dated sense.  I asked everyone in the WFMU office what it was - no one knew. 

Googling "Bardor Productions" yielded 2 hits, one of which blew the case wide open: a link to a single Irwin Chusid playlist.  I got on the horn to my ol' pal pronto, and within minutes the mystery was both solved and deepened.  Within a week, the record was mine - a gift.  Nice!  Keep reading, and it's yours.

2:40 Distractions: a casual, colloquial guide to what I'm drinking now

(Well, it looks like our file-upload tool is in a mischievous mood tonight, so that ambitious 26-song mp3 post I was planning for today will have to be delayed.  Great.  My post is due in 7 hours and I've gotta start from scratch.  What can I fall back on?)

Oh yeah -- beer.  OK, this one goes out to Adler.

In the movies, nobody ever says "gimme a Michelob", or "a Corona", or even "a Saison Dupont".  No, it's always just "a beer".  (Or, in rare cases, "a Heineken".)  Last night, I said "gimme a Saison Dupont", and I felt like an asshole.  Could I have asked for that in a more colloquial way?  Probably. Here are a few snooty brews that have already made the trip through my beerbelfish.

Kasteel - "Gimme a Whimsey Beer"

This 11% ABV whopper is whimsey beer, so named for the emails it inspires me to write, and the insipid little dances it inspires me to dance around the kitchen.  Mike Lupica and Liz Berg will testify to the emails; no one but my dog is party to the dance.

Foret - "Gimme a Devendra Beer" (or "Espers Beer")

This one gets its "gimme a" name from its label, as you'll plainly see.  This is the beer label of the new weird americana, and it happens to be what I'm drinking as I write this.  Mmmm mmmm - bartender, gimme an acoustic guitar!

Kwak - "Quack"

This one presents the opposite problem.  The sort of establishment that would carry this super-sweet Belgian brew isn't likely to hire a bartender who plays well with patrons who quack at him/her.  Nice beer though!  Reeeeeally brown, if a little puckery.  But what's with the hourglass-at-the-gallows contraption it comes in?

BUD - Now that the Belgians own it, I expect you all to order your next Budweiser by demanding "gimme a liquid corn vomit".  Oh, and hey - happy Halloween.

Wooden Shjips ATP Performance (mp3s)

A blast of the blind, murderous intensity of the California desert seared the Borscht Belt torpor of the banquet hall when San Francisco's latest & greatest purveyors of overheated kraut-psych-freedom-rock Wooden Shjips took to Stage 2 at the All Tomorrow's Parties festival held at Kutsher's Resort in Monticello NY last month.

Combining the motoriks and aloofness of classic Krautrock with the wide-open & wasted blues of The West Coast Hippie-Type, Wooden Shjips stained the rug and smashed the chandelier with pulsing bass, droning organ, fuzz-phased guitar, and Suicide vocals.  Better still, they offered to share the following tracks from their set:

I Hear The Vibrations
Vampire Blues (Neil Young cover)
Death's Not Your Friend
Loose Lips

All original work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.

Others in this series so far: Growing  |  Brian Jonestown Massacre

more to come...

Just Try Not to Spill Any on the Carpet

(Scott W sits out this week, overcome by the excitement in Minnesota.  Filling in is Jeremy, cashier in training at the Stop 'n' Shop in Atlantic Highlands NJ)

Whoah... I'm so moving to Friedens PA.  Haaaa.  FRIEDens.

This lady came to the stop & shop and all she bought was potato salad.  but when you scan it, it just says POT SALAD.  That is so fuckin awesome.  Dude, Im out,,, off to the WEED BARN

U.S. Girls Live on WFMU

Filling in for Hatch this week, I had the thrilling opportunity to present a live set of music from the Chicago entity known as U.S. Girls, which is actually one U.S. girl, named Megan Remy.  Packing nothing more than a reel-to-reel tape deck, a mic, and 2 stomp boxes, U.S. Girls delivered a maelstrom of classic pop filtered through something unknowable and kinda crazy, I don't know what it is.  I'll indulge the facile "A meets B" thing by saying imagine Phil Spector covered by The Conet Project, or The Dave Clark 5 as done by a gang of angry ghosts.  It's strangely still pop music, stripped of all affect, leaving behind the pure emotion and meaning of songs like "Bits and Pieces" and The Kinks' "Days".

Here, for your health and holistic well-being, is the entire set U.S. Girls played, including the un-aired (and un-airable) full 27 minute chat.  You can also check out the entire set as broadcast, complete with listener commentary and contextualizing other stuff (up to and including Pete Townshend's 1982 masterpiece "Slit Skirts"), here.

mp3s: St Jude Boys Choir  |  Bits & Pieces (Dave Clark 5 cover)  |  Come See Lightly  |  Don't Understand That Man  |  Everyone I Know Is So Insane  |  Prove It All Night (Bruce Springsteen cover)  |  O What A Nite  |  Days (Kinks cover)  |  Buzz Chant  |  I Can Hear Music (Ronettes / Beach Boys cover)  |  interview (complete, unedited & unexpurgated)

All original work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.

Siltbreeze recently released the excellent Introducing U.S. Girls; visit their site for more. And here's a great writeup at the 20 jazzfunk greats blog.  Jump the flip for more pics, plus some awesome video of "I Can Hear Music", shot by Jason Sigal.

Unfortunate Animal Encounters of the Musical Stars

Seems there's definitely a bug at the WFMU lunch table, but even before Ryan Seacrest's self-inflicted shark wound, I'd been worried about the increasing regularity with which the beasts have been attacking the celebs.  Musicians, mostly.  I mean that's who I'm worried about.  It started in April, when I learned of Richard Thompson's run-in with a scorpion in Mexico.  Here's 5 amazing true-life tales. 

(Rock Star Animal #6: Prince by Brian Taylor Illustration, which has more.)

Richard Thompson v. the Scorpion  Richard Thompson was once The Human Fly, and even tussled with The Lobster; but nothing fazed the scorpion who'd snuck into his Dirty Linen!  While on vacation near Puerto Vallarta earlier this year, the legendary Fairport Convention founder was surprised by an uninvited member of the Centruroides Convention, who took fast action on the guitarist's picking hand!  The resulting sting produced "throbbing pain in the bones of the right arm. Numbness and prickling in the right arm. Small spots of intense pain on the wrist and arm. Numbness in all fingers and toes. Numbness in the lips and scalp. Feeling of gravel in the throat." Fortunately, he's well on the road to recovery, and fans can Now Be Thankful all April's tour dates have been rescheduled for the fall.

Enjoy a firsthand report from Thompson's own site.

Jump the flip for mishaps starring Johnny Cash, Fabio, Minnie Riperton, and Kazu from Blonde Redhead

Making The Sonic Scene

Some Sonic Youth crowd scenes nabbed at the Fourth of July bonanza WFMU shared with them and The Feelies at Battery Park:

Stick a knife in my head, bro:

You, sir, ride the silver rocket:

Drunken butte--- er, frog:

Blast of Hot Water: More Boats

Watching the Staten Island Ferry nearly get creamed in the harbor by a 50 cannon salute off Battery Park last Friday, I was reminded of the pleasure it gives me to occasionally find a good looking picture of a boat on this very blog.  Ahhhhh, boats.  Boat.  Boat.  Boat.  Boats  BOATS  Here's 2 more, from the Los Angeles Fire Department's boat gallery, plus a Nantucket Sleighride.

Music: Why Can't I Get Rid of This Crap?

Freed from a weekly radio commitment, I now relish the opportunity to listen to music the old way, the natural way, without always auditioning everything and imagining segues and conceptual ties, calculating the booty-shake quotient and all that baggage. This, of course, necessitates an honest reappraisal of my record collection, a little soul-searching, and some cold hard looks at just why the hell I'm hanging onto three John Denver records. 

Other questions I'll have to ask: is there really any reason for anyone to actually own a Beatles record?  And do I love John Cale so much that I'd repeatedly sit through The Academy in Peril like I was guzzling raw egg yolk?  I'll address all these questions and more, and acknowledge up front that the general impulse at work is no doubt sentimental and fetishistic.  e.g., I don't like Caribbean Sunset either, but I'm untroubled by that because I don't have it.

Alright, here goes...

John Cale The Academy In Peril  I've listened to this album in its entirety once, maybe twice; I've begun to listen to it countless times, and been knocked catatonic by its total aimless boredom nearly every time. But it's Cale, with an amazing Warhol cover, and a great title, and all these weird associations I inexplicably have for it that make me get just a little excited every time I flip by it on the shelf.  But I can't stand it, go figure!  So I'll probably always have it.

The Beatles.  What's the point?  It's hardly worth having an opinion about The Beatles, let alone any of their records.  But I've got both.  Aside from Beatles for Sale, that fantastic melancholic and miserable downer, the only reason I keep any other Beatles record is because someone keeps stealing all of the WFMU library's copies.  Not a good reason.  Have I got the strength of my convictions to get rid of them?  Wish me luck.

Jump!!  There's more...

Codgepiece

Once upon a time, The Old Codger made such a menace of himself around here that he actually tricked us into turning him into some sort of WFMU mascot for a little while.  We snapped out of his damn spell, but not before he'd hijacked half the record library and insinuated himself into as many album covers as he could find a place for himself, just to spite the medium!  My apologies for the really ugly ones, but what do you expect from a guy whose idea of arresting visuals is a snazzy wall-calendar?

Next time: The Codger as Zelig, strolling through history like it was goin' outta style.

Lots more below!

WFMU in Signal To Noise: Their Favorite Things

The current issue (#50) of the excellent experimental and improvised music magazine Signal To Noise prominently features a terrific article on your favorite Freeform Radio avatars (that's us).  Writer Jesse Jarnow spent some quality time with us during our 2008 fundraising Marathon back in March, earned our trust, and got some choice quotes to accompany his keen observations (and largely accurate historical details).  A few of us even got our pictures in the paper, thanks to the very pleasing photographic efforts of Caroline Bell.  Not Station Manager Ken though - he got cut out of the group shot, probably because of the ridiculous slogan on his "funny" t-shirt.

The entire article, as jpgs:
Table of Contents  |  Page 1  |  Page 2  |  Page 3  | Page 4  |  Page 5  |  Page 6  |  Page 7  |  Page 8

And here's the whole thing as a single pdf (thanks Doron!)

The Company We Keep?

Get out and vote, New Jersey!

Somewhere in charming Central Jersey, the driver of a mysterious white SUV casts his vote for Lautenberg challenger Rob Andrews, a referendum on Christ in Christmas, and WFMU.

In a better world, or maybe just a better head, I would not be struck by WFMU sharing bumper space with The Good Lord.  But I was struck.  Start casting 'em, mofos.

audio:
The Christian Con Man (Lee Edwards, mp3) || Jesus, He Loves LSD + Me  (Adult Rodeo, mp3) || Billy "Jersey" Jam (realaudio stream)

photo credit: Maria Stanko
central Jersey in a nutshell credit: Mike Lupica
preemptive defensive measure: you're right, it does look like the K of C sticker was photoshopped on there.  It wasn't.  You have my word.  That shadow does make me wonder what the owner of this SUV removed to make room for Christ, in Christmas, on his bumper.

Reading in Someone Else's Voice

If you're like me, you hear voices when you read.  If you're familiar with the author and his or her tone, you hear a familiar voice; if not, or if the piece is anonymous, the right voice gradually develops - and it is most definitely an audible sensation.  So it can really fuck you up when you think you're reading one person's words but you're actually reading another's.  I had just such an unsettling experience earlier this week while reading this blog recap of Billy Jam's excellent live-at-the-Knitting Factory radio show from May 23rd.  I made the mistake (which I often do) of looking to see who posted it before reading it.  Liz Berg posted it, so I heard Liz Berg's authorial voice as I read it.  I missed the crucial "Billy Jam says:" way up at the top of the thing.  Hearing Billy Jam's words in Liz Berg's voice (and not knowing it), I actually felt a bit of planetary shift in my confusion - it was just all wrong!  Sure, there are probably greater distances than the one between Billy's and Liz's blogging / speaking / writing styles, but theirs still packs a disorienting wallop.  The closest comparable experience I can think of is a bad acid trip in the company of a couple who're fighting, to a soundtrack of "The Above Ground Sound of Jake Holmes".  Been there, brothers and sisters - great music, nice people, baaad trip!

Or I can share the experience.  Jump the flip to enjoy four very distinct New York newspapers reviewing one egregiously New York-identifying movie with legs as unbreakable as the presidential campaign of one New York senator.  All four reviews appear (in excerpted form) anonymously, so as to maximize your potential to confuse, say, New York for the New Yorker, or the News for the Post.  (The Times chose to remain above it all, natch.)

I hate people who use "natch" in conversation - if there's an "ersatz" to follow, then I declare this post hijacked!

Holy Esquivello!

I just noticed this:
As you were.

Hoppe-hoppe Reiter! Improved Sound Ltd. mp3s

You know the feeling.  You stumble on a local yard / stoop sale that features a lot of tasteless glassware and sweatshirts, ancient kids' toys and one thin box of records seemingly dominated by James Last and Chicago records.  That feeling is despair.  But you pulled over, so you might as well get your fingers dusty.  Then you spot an inexplicable cover featuring the upper quarters of a Gérard Depardieu lookalike being ridden, hobbyhorse-style, by a mostly naked angel-winged nymph.  Hope creeps in.  You ask how much - the answer: a dime.  Turning it over, you spot song titles such as "Leave This Lesbian World", "Don't Know Baby If You Are Safe" and "Hit'em In The Face", mismatched with the frumpiest looking set of anti-rock stars Bavaria could cough up.  Yes yes, that despair has now flipped itself into a feeling indescribable yet holy and life-giving.  If you know, you know.  If you don't, well... it's like I said to Terre T during one of my insufferable attempts to justify my coffee-snobbery: "it's like trying to explain WFMU to your grandmother".

What this thing is is the soundtrack to one of those arty lite-porn German offerings from the late-60's (1969, precisely), written and performed entirely by the band IMPROVED SOUND Ltd.  The title is "Engelchen macht weiter hoppe-hoppe Reiter" (buy it here).  You want the plot?  Here's a Google translation, courtesy listener Freddy:

"Gustl seller leads a harmonious marriage with Helene, in which sexual life is not too short.  From the time Sexrummel infected, he would like to see a sex party to organize.  Because it echoes Mitmacher not a lack of potential, a date for the orgy reported, but since Gustl gets under suspicion, to have smallpox, he must away from the big event. When thinking about his Helene because without him so everything could drive, it packs the jealousy ..."

Jump the flip for mp3s, the full cover (of which the above is a zoom), some links, and a little more info.

We Get Mail, Part 2: So Much Evil Coming

This was apparently taken from a textbook on Swedish living.  Jump the flip for the full page.  Here's hoping this post doesn't constitute "anything funny".

We Get Mail

Well, we used to anyway.

"An Airplane Can Throw Flowers on You, But A Kamikaze Fun Machine Can Save Your Life"

The WFMU / Exchange Place PATH guerrilla strikes again.  Prior community outreach here and here.

Left coast got struck here.

Listen to Diane's Kamikaze Fun Machine here.

Read Diane on The Blog here.

Zooooom:

Hoof and Mouth Videos 2008 (Part 5 of 5)

Here we wrap it up: the final batch of videos from the last night of the Marathon, back on March 9th at Maxwell's.  All 36 videos shall live here forevermore.

These vids were shot by Phil Catalano, Taso Stefanidis, and Evan Savitt and lovingly edited by Bryce.
The Hoof & Mouth Sinfonia is our inhouse karaoke band, lead by yours truly, and starring the following major gents:

Drums: Evan "Funk" Davies, Bryce Kretschmann, Irwin Chusid
Bass: Mac, Matt Fiveash
Guitar: Brian Turner, Scott Williams
Fiddle / Theremin: PGB
Keyboard: David Goldman
Sax: Chris Stubbs

Engineers: Gil Shuster, Irene Trudel, Carson Kopp

Images by notladj

The videos:

31 Todd-o-phonic Todd, "I'm a No-Count" by Ty Wagner