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The Wife
Hurray For The Goddamned Idiot!
The highest as the lowest form of criticism is a mode of autobiography.
(Wilde)
But you should file this under Fiction.
Fuck yeah.
Here's a video me papa sent me.
He sez, I wonder how many spectators were injured.
Via bordom.net. (Be warned, the top thing on the home page right now freaks me the fuck out!)
Via Jesse Thorn, who has very good taste in rap, this video drips Cool. I love the flannel shirts. I love the elemental beat. I love all the little details of place. I love how almost evryone feels like people you might see on the street, not someone dressd up for a video. I love that someone’s granny is just jammin out in the background. I love the slammin girl at the chicken stand. I love how people are actually working in the back of the chicken stand. I love the density of the lyrics. I love halal food in ny.
He Usually Doesn't Tell Where He Got Them From
…has gone gray (and really it’s about time) but also appears to have lost quite a bit of weight.
Occasionally my mind drifts to a place where I find myself wondering who I would most like to have the chance to see play live, if time’s arrow was no barrier that is. I don’t draw conclusions, just enjoy musing over the possibilities. A prime candidate would surely be Howlin’ Wolf. Here he is from 1964 with a corker, Killing Floor. With a band featuring Hubert Sumlin, Willie Dixon and Buddy Guy, the Wolf takes blues music to the next level, a black monolith moment.
Seconded, Mr. Wah. Tho I will always maintain the superiority of th band Wolf had in Memphis in ’51 over any subsequent group, and if I could hear any band play live, laws of time & space notwithstanding, it would be that one, no fucking contest.
“Black monolith moment.” I like that.
Head over to Diddy Wah’s place an’ hear this record and plenty more.
