Take One. The Amps. "the opening number for the next year or so"????
Where do you start with this version? White Suit? Pilgrim Hat? Psych Effects? Granted the vocals are a little haggard but sick none the less.
I have really been regressing into 68-71 classic rock troll mode.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
2010 Giro
The offical route presentaion isn't til th 24th, but the rumours include Plan de Coronoes TT, Monte Zoncolan, Motirolo, and a stage over the "strada bianca". They are putting together all the necessary elements for a great race. Even more TTs than the TDF!
A lot to look forward to.
A lot to look forward to.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
how is this acceptable
art rock, outsider music, whatever the tag, I usually can't hang. I'd rather deal with BOC than Tortoise most days. How much art can I take? Not much. That's why I like metal, but now metal (especially hyphened metal black-, etc) are getting in the art game.
Got a copy of this Elegi Sistereis CD and expected some black metal or maybe some Isis/Neurosis type shit. Not at all what is in store
Opens with the sound of piano, drone, and the sound of someone walking on a creaky wood floor. the ocean, chains, and fog horns are other things you will hear. Sounded more like audio from a movie than anything else. I guess if you read Signal to Noise all the time, this kind of shit is trad-fair, but I caught me by surprise and is pretty fucking good-especially with Halloween coming up. It would be the perfect soundtrack to reading a Kurt Wallander mystery.(nice artsy literary reference.... are mysteries considered literature?). The whole vibe is "going down to the ocean to die". How can that not appeal to a Cape Cod'er?
I guess the more on the ball scribes have already labeled this as "acoustic doom". Ouch. If I knew that I never would have picked it up. So I guess labels do suck, and it's nice not to have a unique record ruined by the internet. Surprises are hard to come by.
mishmash is the label.
Sisteries is the word for a ship's last trip before it sinks so if you want to get all brainy with your nautical pals, there you go.
Maynard Fergussun explosion
Even a broken clock is right twice a day, and given the right songs even a goof ball like Maynard can sound hip. MF brings production and arrangements to the table. Covers are always good for a laugh if nothing else, but S/T MF record on Columbia exceeds expectations. Janis, James Taylor, George Harrison and on. 10 tracks of covers. The faux-head sitar action on Aquarius is unreal-especially as it rolls into some "riders on the storm" meets big band take on the Hair classic.
Side 2 opens with an upbeat "my sweet lord" that is worth the price of admission.
The MF Slaughter continues onto MF Horns 3. Rarely has such a dork, been so funky. I guess Nice N'Juicy is a trademark. Could lived without the 'Round Midnight cover-what's next? Take the A Train?
Considering you can find all his shit at the thrift store, it is well worth acquiring.
not on these albums but classic footage
the prison outfits on this band are too good
reductionist
When it is bike racing time and even more so for cross, your world gets pretty small. race, recover, train, repeat. Obviously this is punctuated with hijinks, hanging out, and general hilarity, but next weekend's races really loom in your mind.
Take the basic question you probably hear a million times each morning. "How are you?" A normal person may answer this a bunch of different ways, but cyclists seem to always reply with the with a predictable pattern. First is always "injured". You hurt X ,and it is or isn't getting better. 2nd is "sick" or "getting sick". 3rd is of course "tired" from training, racing, or traveling. Lastly is "ok" which probably means "I feel really fucking good and think I might rip people's legs off, but I am not going to say anything to jinx it or fuck it up".
So there you have it.
I am in the midst of a multi day RMV failure fest that is robbing me of training time, costing me some fun bike parts, and generally interfering with my life. I guess that would be a new category "fucked".
My last words as the RMV sucks the life out of me will be of course, "put me back on the bike".
Take the basic question you probably hear a million times each morning. "How are you?" A normal person may answer this a bunch of different ways, but cyclists seem to always reply with the with a predictable pattern. First is always "injured". You hurt X ,and it is or isn't getting better. 2nd is "sick" or "getting sick". 3rd is of course "tired" from training, racing, or traveling. Lastly is "ok" which probably means "I feel really fucking good and think I might rip people's legs off, but I am not going to say anything to jinx it or fuck it up".
So there you have it.
I am in the midst of a multi day RMV failure fest that is robbing me of training time, costing me some fun bike parts, and generally interfering with my life. I guess that would be a new category "fucked".
My last words as the RMV sucks the life out of me will be of course, "put me back on the bike".
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Alternative Perspective
Sadly this is another post about CX and not a post in praise of Mark Mckay's reggae review column in the old Boston zine AP(not to be confused with the Vogue with music AP you can get now a days).
Anyway, raced Brockton on Saturday. Got a cramp on the run up on the first lap and pretty much suffered through the rest of the race. Peddling was OK, but I was shuffling more than running. Whatever, it's just a cramp. Well the cramp didn't go away and didn't respond to ice, rolling, heat, massage, ibuprofen, or prayer. So I awoke Sunday morning and realized I was not going to be racing. Some kind of lame muscle strain or pull or something.
Rolled over to the usual rendezvous and got Nick and Billy. Rain started up and kept getting stronger the closer we got to Wrentham. I was theoretically ok with driving and watching, but as we drove down North St and I saw the course, I was pretty bummed I wouldn't be racing.
Regardless, I put on a fresh pamper and got ready to cheer for the crew. Based on watching the pro races, I knew there were a few things I could do that might be helpful so I strapped on Nick's rubber boots and got busy. Dropped off a mismatched set of wheels in the pit (even though Gunnar dude and dog were in full effect). Walked over to the start and collected jackets so dudes could try and stay warm and/or dry. This gets a fail when cars pulled on to the course a minute before the start. 10 minute staging was pretty brutal in these conditions. Nick was 3rd row and Billy was in the back and the race started.
Now my only purpose for being there was to yell. So I did my best to yell out positions and times to the rider ahead. Nick stayed in the front 7 all race and Billy was picking people off every lap. Once the end was in sight, I watched the finish and then ran back to crank the heat in the car. Nick got 6th, Billy got 11th and I got a DNS.
I didn't realize how bummed I was about not racing until I was on my way home. Taking next week off, so it will be a while til I am back in the mix. Hopefully I won't come up with anymore ways to malfunction between now and then.
Anyway, raced Brockton on Saturday. Got a cramp on the run up on the first lap and pretty much suffered through the rest of the race. Peddling was OK, but I was shuffling more than running. Whatever, it's just a cramp. Well the cramp didn't go away and didn't respond to ice, rolling, heat, massage, ibuprofen, or prayer. So I awoke Sunday morning and realized I was not going to be racing. Some kind of lame muscle strain or pull or something.
Rolled over to the usual rendezvous and got Nick and Billy. Rain started up and kept getting stronger the closer we got to Wrentham. I was theoretically ok with driving and watching, but as we drove down North St and I saw the course, I was pretty bummed I wouldn't be racing.
Regardless, I put on a fresh pamper and got ready to cheer for the crew. Based on watching the pro races, I knew there were a few things I could do that might be helpful so I strapped on Nick's rubber boots and got busy. Dropped off a mismatched set of wheels in the pit (even though Gunnar dude and dog were in full effect). Walked over to the start and collected jackets so dudes could try and stay warm and/or dry. This gets a fail when cars pulled on to the course a minute before the start. 10 minute staging was pretty brutal in these conditions. Nick was 3rd row and Billy was in the back and the race started.
Now my only purpose for being there was to yell. So I did my best to yell out positions and times to the rider ahead. Nick stayed in the front 7 all race and Billy was picking people off every lap. Once the end was in sight, I watched the finish and then ran back to crank the heat in the car. Nick got 6th, Billy got 11th and I got a DNS.
I didn't realize how bummed I was about not racing until I was on my way home. Taking next week off, so it will be a while til I am back in the mix. Hopefully I won't come up with anymore ways to malfunction between now and then.
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