Waxing Philablogical

I work in what is essentially a mausoleum; A cold, grey erection containing boxes containing bodies all clad in their sunday best. The walls are sparsely decorated, adorned only with knick-nacks and sprigs of faux-flora. These attempts at disguising the flourescent air as anything close to inviting or cozy is really quite amusing, as this cold, faceless building exudes anything but warmth. This is the kind of place where it makes sense to move slowly. Without an iota of living tissue, you don't tend to have much vigor anyway. The one luxury you are afforded is the concession that yes, this is a place of business, and yes, you are contracted to move said business forward in the way of droll, incessant idling (by this we mean: you sit here, you stare at this screen, you clack your fingers cracked against these keys) but yes, you are indeed living, and you may find yourself getting a tad bored with

Sleep Said The Monster is the kind of band you meet in a back alley, but not in the that drug-dealing/sex-peddling/money-stealing sort of way. They aren't there to hurt you. Sure, they craft their tales using the same darkness that those misfit archetypes generally inhabit. And yes, the stories swimming through their brand of brooding pop often reference the kind of sordid tales that only occur in the less than sunny portions of society. But Sleep Said The Monster is a reference point. They allow you to ingest things you might normally find a bit less than palatable. They reside in that back alley as a guide, not as a trap. For every bit of blood spatter there is the bright twinkle of piano, for every lost limb: a chorus of claps, for every ghoul: a giggle, and that is precisely why you should not fear them. Sleep Said The Monster waits in the shadows to inform you that the shadows aren't so bad. They are place where you can get comfortable and learn to love all things ghastly.

I work inside of a robot. It's no joke, I really do. I sit mechanically behind a set of grey walls, all upholstered with this oddly textured grey fabric. I refer to this with very little love as my cube. To me, the word cube conjurs something that is very rigid and lifeless. Ah, perfect. Rigid and lifeless, cubic, the body of a robot. That is where I spend my days. I hear perpetual clinking and clanking and the soft humming of something I can't quite identify. It's not a romantic life I lead.
The fact is that I never ever wanted this. For as long I can remember I despised the idea of working in an office. I loathed the thought of having to wake up before the sun is fully exposed, rifle through my clothes until I find my slacks (yes, fucking slacks), and eventually plod out the door and drearily make my way to a large colorless block that unquestionably functions like a machine. I still hate that idea. I mean, it is possibly one of the scariest things I can think of. Yet, I do it. Honestly, I supposed my abhoration is more due to consequence than anything. I feel like this could be the entryway to the rest of my life. I am merely a concession away from being buttoned down, slack-clad, and completely vapid for the rest of my life. I know, I know for a fact that there are those around me who are where they will be forever. That frightens me not because this is such a bad place, but because they are done. Their lives are finished. Sure, there are probably details I don't know. They probably look forward to some things. They see new movies, new tv shows...the regular little updates in the variety of what never really varies at all. That is all fine, and I'm sure those things are a perfectly good reason to live. They are, for all intents and purposes, the spice of life. I can't say that I necessarily desire more. I guess the ol' idea is to live for connections. That is why people so desperately try to connect with something they will eventually penetrate/be penetrated by.
This is the odd thing about my job: I do not talk to anyone all day long. I literally sit in my cube, type at this screen, listen to music, and wait. I wait for the end of the day. I waIt to re-enter the world in which I actually live. I'm not entirely sure whether or not I want to really attempt to connect with anyone of the people milling around this 8-5 limbo. but it seems as though the others are at least, in some business friendly we are friends because we have to be sort of way, making a connection. That fact makes me feel like I'm missing out. That feeling doesn't bother me much anymore. Merely, it makes me feel like a camera, a reporter, a piece of the puzzle that isn't supposed to be there, but is. I am like sand shoreline. I am an amalgam of nondescript granuals absorbing anything viscous enough to be sopped up. This really serves no benefit to me. I only become harder to penetrate. eventually I'm just a damp rock that you can't even use to make a pretty castle. I mean, that is...like, the pessimist's view of it. The other way to see it is that I am necessary. Who knows what the coast would look like without the sand? Well, the answer is anyone who has need a sandless beach, or a rockface that is lapped at by hundreds upon thousands of waves everyday. Well, for the sake of my point...we are relegating this analogy to sandiness.   It is so much the same as everything else. Watching businessmen and women interact isn't not wholly different from most uber-hip subcultures. People still act unsure, people still act coy, people still act cute, and people still act aloof. I think the only real difference is frame of reference. I, unfortunately, surmise this is my real problem....ok and my lack of propensity to randomly strike up conversation about the weather or work (it also doesn't help that I am part of a huge, faceless beauracracy and I really have absolutely no idea what kinds of business this place of business actually entails). I'm also shy, but that is beside the point.
I sit in the back of the building, and no one comes 'round. Often times I think that I could probably get away with some pretty nasty stuff throughout the day. You know the the acronym NSFW? Well, it really doesn't apply to me. Frankly, I would like to consider myself, my entire being, NSFW. I can do anything. Do I ever think I could just jerk off all over these grey walls?  Of course I do! Am I reasonably sure no one would be the wiser? Yes, indeed. Have I done that? No, but....the day may cum.
Whatever, masturbation is not the point. Neither is connection. The point is that this is a finely tuned machine that exists because the people running around inside it know their bounds. This is why I talk to no one throughout the day. The people making friendships and love affairs, trysts, whatever (though one of those would be awesome) are only doing so because they happen to be placed in positions that allow their figurative gears to coinside with someone else's figurative gears.
My one thought is that maybe some of these gear movements can be altered. For example: Everyday I have to get up from my desk. I may do this because I need to get some water, food, go to lunch or the bathroom. There are several different routes that I can take to do any of these activities. I choose the one that leads me past the one lady in this place that I find sexually attractive (ok, there maybe a few others, but she is the only one that has ever spoken a complete sentence to me).

1. Aimee Mann - Lost In Space
--------I know I'm not supposed to feel this way, but I really think that Lost In Space might be my favorite Aimee Mann record. I get it. Bachelor No. 2 is supposedly her apex. The thing is...what I like best about Aimee Mann is the weird kind of sunny sadness she doles out. Ok, the best songs she has written so far are on Bachelor No. 2, and those songs perfect the brand of cartharic hopelessness that she is so good at. HOWEVER, I think that Lost In Space tends to stretch that feeling out over a whole record better than Bachelor No. 2. I guess that is why I might call it my favorite. I probably shouldn't because huge Aimee Mann fans will come and cut off my Mann-hood. Then I wouldn't be able to listen to Aimee Mann or have sex. I don't want either of those things.

2. Aimee Mann - Bachelor No. 2 Or, The Last Remains Of The Dodo Bird
--------The problem is that I love this record so much. I don't know what it is...I am having a real dilemma today. Why does it matter? It doesn't. I love both of these albums. I can't pick a favorite. I don't need to...I just thought I had. I love them for different reasons. I think the best way to put it is: Lost In space is like a soft night purple, Bachelor No. 2 is sort of a warm morning gold. Each one rides the transition into a more concrete part of the day, something more definitive. Lost In Space just feels like it leans toward the dark, and Bachelor No. 2 leans toward the light. I have no idea why I am so preoccupied with this. (And yes, I realize those are the same colors as the album covers. She's got good designs!)

3. French Kicks - Two Thousand
--------I have reacted to every French Kicks album the same way. It takes me an insane amount of time to warm up to them, but in the end I always end up really liking every one. What helped me along with the first two was seeing them live. I didn't get the chance when they toured in support of Two Thousand. I wish I had, because I seem to always regard this record as my least favorite. I don't really know why. I think the melodies aren't quite as pronounced as on previous releases, and it just just kind of all runs together. Something about it just seems airy. That said, I definitely come around to it more every time I listen to it. It still is my least favorite though...

4. Bryan Scary - The Shredding Tears
--------While I appreciate how perfectly late period Beatles and several 70's glam greats are replicated by this guy...I don't really find it all that compelling. I like Flight Of The Knife better as a record, but even then there is just something not quite doing it for me. I can't say there is anyone doing this better than him, though. Which is weird. I think he is probably one of the most faithful re-creaters in this genre. The problem might be that I don't really find this genre terribly exciting, despite my propensity to looooove weird voices and spastic pop. I just need something to be underneath all the glitzy syrup for me to be able to make it through 15 tracks. Christ.

5. The Dodos - Visiter
--------Frenchkiss is such a good label. They haven't put out anything that I don't like. I was pretty on the fence about this record during my first run through though. I'm glad I gave it a second chance, because it is quickly becoming one of my favorite records of the year. I can't really think of anything that sounds like the Dodos. Maybe Baby Walrus would sound like this if they would actually...finish their songs. Well, and play more on acoustic guitars.

6. The House Of Love - The House Of Love (Fontana Records)
---------I think The House Of Love get overlooked. They totally were one of the better late 80's/early 90's alternative bands. Both of their self titled records are great. The single I Don't Know Why I Love you is so good. My point is pretty simple: For all the love that the Church and Echo and The Bunnymen have gotten in recent years I really think that The House Of Love deserves a bit too. This is all despite the fact that they have kind of a shitty band name.

7. Human Television - Look At Who You're Talking To
--------I never realized how much this band sounds like Nada Surf until today. Everything I said about Nada Surf yesterday applies to them. Bland indie rock, blah blah blah. I Laughed is a great song though, I just wish the rest of the record lived up to it.

8. The New Year - The End Is Not Near
--------I went through a phase where I was really into slowcore/sadcore. I still like it, though nothing will ever beat The White Birch by Codiene for me, specifically the song Loss Leader. I still lose my mind everytime I hear that song. Bedhead was a band that I definitely spent some time with during that period of my life though they never really hit me as hard as Codiene. Anyways, from the ashes of bedhead came The New Year. They pretty much inhabit the same sonic space, emotional territory, and general aestehic as Bedhead. So, forunately for them I like Bedhead, which pretty much means I like them. Though, Bedhead had a sad simplicity that is a little less present with The New year. I guess this kind of stuff seems a little like it has passed its prime. Which, makes sense...I'm not even sure that The New Year is still active, and they certainly aren't making waves if they are. Oh well, I definitely get into moods where I feel the need to sulk slow like the plodding drums of one of these songs, so.....I guess that's what I'll do.

9. The Notwist - The Devil, You + Me
--------I bought Neon Golden during my first weekend at College. It was perfect for the odd autumnal desolate-yet-invigorating out of sort-ness I felt. I assumed that feeling would pass after a few weeks...just cause, you know, you are supposed to really settle into your college years with a sense of comfort and excitement following a few weeks of homesickness. Unfortuantely, my out of sorts-ness pretty much lasted for four years...so naturally over that time I really listened to Neon Golden a lot. I kind of hoped that The Devil, You + Me would maybe be a bit nostalgic for me. Don't ask why, but the feeling I had throughout college, as much as I despised every minute of it, I also kind of miss. I miss it in the way that a vietnam POW might miss the soup he was served during his imprisonment (ok so I am specifically thinking of scene from the Simpsons, I am fully aware that most prisoners of war probably miss absolutely nothing about their days in lockdown). It simply is something that has gone and I can't get it back. I don't like that. I would like to be able to recapture everything. Good or bad, it probably had an impact. If I could I would totally have that chip from Final Cut implanted into my head, but I would want to take it out prematurely...so I could be the one to watch it (although that really probably wouldn't let me re-experience exactly how I felt. i'd pretty much just be a spectator to what I have already spectated). I guess doing that would give me some perspective, but not reinstill me with the same highs and lows that once affected me so greatly.  I suppose that is one of the reasons I enjoy music in the way that I do. Specific albums connote specific instances. It is that way for anyone with a moderate love of something relatively intangible. It's how you make a connection, take the physical properties of your instant and apply them to the nonphysical atmospheric qualities that you (and your tangibles) reside within. I could be totally wrong, but it makes sense to me...so it should make sense to everyone. Anyway, The Notwist still sound autumnal, sad, gloomy, warm, and wistful but there is definitely something not present here. I think it's the pop. Neon Gold struck and awesome balance between their soft organic sound and their electonics, and did so with a sweet glue of pop song writing. There were great hooks on that album (however dreary they may have been). The Devil, You + Me definitely has lost some of that. I like it, overall... it doesn't take me back to a place or a feeling, but it is good none the less. It's probably better this way. I should be able to enjoy this album on it's own merits, and I can....it's the natural progression. Since Shrink (I think) they have been integrating more and more electronics into their sound. They do it well and have certainly found away to create something distinctly Notwist, but as with 13 + God this record tends to blur together. It's sort of sonically middling, lyrically sparse, and just generally pretty. It's a mood record, not a statement record. That's fine. I like mood records a lot...if I'm in the right mood. I just hope they don't follow the trajectory I am imagining and become a full on ambient band. They'd be good at it, but come on, that's such a waste...

1. Futureheads - This Is Not The World
--------Fits somewhere between the speed and angularity of their first and the slower more overtly melodicism of their second record. Something about This Is Not The World reminds me of early 90's late 80's Brit-pop. Naturally, the Futureheads speed it all up and sort of reconfigure the dreamy quality into something more robotic. I'm pretty pleased with it...more or less. I have kind of burned myself out on British rock bands lately. The one thing that really turns me off...is the use of the line 'You've had too much to think tonight'. Now, I love puns....like I LOVE wordplay of all forms..for the most part. But, wow that's bad. It's all I can think of when I think of the record. Maybe if it weren't the hook of the damn song I wouldn't mind it soo much. But, ugh. It sucks. It reminds me of that Electric Prunes song that was made famous by the band on California Dreams. I Had Too Much To Dream Last Night.

2. Frog Eyes - Tears Of The Valedictorian
--------I'd bang them. They do no wrong.

3. Jay Reatard - See/Saw
--------Jay Retard is fucking awesome. Anyone who doesn't listen to him needs to start. I am going to cum all over these Matador 7 inch releases...

4. Magnetic Fields - Distortion
--------I want to be on the road. I want to be sealed tight in a metal box all encompassed with snow, wind, wintery mix. I want it to be immediately after some Holiday party that I have only come to in order to see a specific lady. The one that specific lady sort of got too drunk at and didn't really pay me much mind. I, of course, had no real reason to expect specific lady to pay me much mind so I just sort of sulked on the inside but did my best not to let it show. I'd be stupid to do that. It's not my place. Either way I was just hoping for the evening to yeild some sort of specific lady progress, but it didn't. It doesn't usually ever. So with my understanding of how I perpetually will be stuck on a middle ground, never to forge upward or trudge downward, I chuckle and head home. That's what I want.

5. Mason Proper - There Is A Moth In Your Chest
--------I honestly don't know what to do with this. I kind of like it...and I kind of don't at all. Some of the lyrics are stupid, but some are alright. Sometimes it sounds teen-y, and sometimes it sounds cool. It's pretty slick, but in a way that seems fitting. If a hot hipster chick was walking by as I was listening to this in my car, I don't think she would think I am very cool. However, if the right song was on she might not think I am totally lame either. Since that is pretty much the only way I judge whether I like a record or not...I'm really at a loss.  

6. Nada Surf - Lucky
--------Popular was such a good song. I wish the rest of High/Low had been as good. The rest of their output has been so much the same. None of it sounds like High/Low, but each subsequent record has been very benign, good but benign, indie pop. Lucky is the same. It's nice, but toothless...very toothless. I can get into it if I am in the right mood, but I get bored very very fast. Blaaahh.

7. Every Time I Die - The Big Dirty
--------This is another one of those bands that I don't think I am supposed to like, but I am pretty sure I could make a pretty good case for if given the chance. They are so bad ass. The riffs, the energy, the sassy humor (specifically Inrihab- that song slays me). It all reeks of unbridled rock and/or roll. It's too bad they get lumped in with a lot of teen-y hardcore bands....It's ok, I guess. They are probably making way more money going the route that they are. I just hope they know I have their back if it ever comes down to it.

8. French Kicks - Swimming
--------I really like the production on this album. It's so cavernous and stark. I think it suits the kind of feeling French Kicks have been trying to inundate us with since their first ep. The remind me of driving through a city, whether it be a sunny day or a nice evening, with the windows down. Perhaps this is only because when I was really into One Time Bells I was also spending a lot of time in Chicago, but that is beside the point. I think I would make the same association no matter what. I could be stuck in a snow storm on a boat and that is still what they would make me think about. The thing is, that description seems so breezy and nice, but there is a little bit of lonliness to their music..I think that is why I always so strongly disagree with how poorly they get treated by some critics....pitchfork. Like, imagine driving Lake Shore with the windows down on some 72 degree evening, the steets are empty, you aren't unhappy and you aren't beaming either. You are inhabiting a very content middle groud. I am imagining you in sunglasses, however...it is nighttime so my vision is totally fucked up, obviously. Anyway, you are content but then the desolation of the street, and the silence wafting through the breeze makes you start feelings a bit wistful. That slightly wind-blown wistful feeling is exactly what Swimming is selling, and it's quite wonderful

1. Aldous Huxley - The Doors Of Perception
--------Ok, this isn't music, but I was curious about whether I would be able to absorb an audiobook while being at work. Guess what! I can. This was a pretty dense 'bout of literature, though. I know that I missed a few things, but for the most part it was quite enlightening. I don't know how relevant it is, as it makes a pretty strong case for mescaline while citing its very few negative characteristics. I really don't know. Have they found out what is bad about mescaline in the past 50 years? I'm sure. Anyway, it was a delightful little romp into the world of being all altered and fucked up, scientifically speaking. Not to mention the man who read it to me had such a soothing British voice. I wanted to sleep on his shoulder. Plus it took up my entire morning....so it made me a little tired.

2. Algernon Caldwallader - Some Kind Of Cadwallader
--------This just sounds so dated. The guitar work is amazing, but I mean...these guys were OBVIOUSLY in Cap'n Jazz. It's hard to really find something compelling about it other than just sitting and being like 'god, I wish my fingers were that dextrous'. It just sounds like underground emo from the 90's. I mean the kind that isn't all polished and hooky (because there really is nary a hook on this record). I mean the kind that got it all started. I guess I just feel like they are probably getting a little old to be making such unrefined music. Progess?! Progress.

3. Graveyard - Graveyard
--------Remember Wolfmother? Remember everything about them that sucked? Graveyard rectifies all of Wolfmother's problems, and they do it awesomely.

4. Elefant - Sunlight Makes Me Paranoid
--------I feel like I remember people not being very nice to this band. They snuck in with that whole new nu-wave movement a couple years back. Granted, they were totally riding a way. Granted, their songs are pretty fucking shallow 80's throwback shit. But...I kind of like shallow 80's throwback shit. I like just plain shallow 80's shit. I have the Black Magic Show somewhere too. I listened to it...once? Maybe? I haven't even listened to this record a couple of years probably. Obviously, Elefant doesn't have enough substance to keep someone coming back and back. They are a lot like me in that way. I just wish I had such pristine production.

5. Animal Collective - Strawberry Jam
--------This is album I have been waiting for them to make. The ratio of masturbation to actual melody and music is really really small. That is something I couldn't say about any of their other albums, despite the fact that I think Grass is probably one of the best songs of the past ten years. There are also a lot of references to eating and food on this album. It kind of weirds me out in the same way that eating/being around people eating weirds me out. I guess I can add hearing people sing about eating to that list.   

6. Aqueduct - Or Give Me Death
--------I love this record. He so delivered on the promise of I Sold Gold. There is this weird robotic quality to all of it. Not like soul-less android kind of robotic, though. Kind of like...if the android were able to shed a few tears. I think Data did that on a couple episodes of Star Trek TNG, or what about K-Pax. I think K-pax would like Aqueduct. It reminds me of ELO a little, but the good ELO. It doesn't remind me of the classic rock ELO stuff...more the glammy fun songs. Plus, there is totally a nice streak of morbidity running through this album. I'm such a sucker for that. Such a sucker.

As many of you know we have spent the last year working very hard on our debut lp The Weird Massage You Never Asked for. What you may not have realized was that during that time we were also fervidly shopping for a label. The process was extremely exhausting, but in the end it also proved to be very fruitful.

After a lot of careful thought and negotion we have finally made the decison to go with ATO Records. This decision wasn't easy. We waded through many great offers from many wonderful labels. However, I think that if you take a look at their roster you will understand how perfect of a home it is for us.
And I won't lie, hearing about Sony/BMG's lawsuit against Perezhilton. com definitely had an impact on us. Being affiliated with a label that would go to such lengths for their artists really means something. I, for one, do not agree with free promotion of any kind, especially the sort that comes from kind words on a popular website. I am glad to say that we will no longer have to worry about our good name getting out to the masses by any other means than label supported propaghanda.

We would like to thank everyone who has shown us support over that last year or so. Without it this never would have been possible. We also want to send a small shout out to Dave "my best man" Matthews for really coming through, championing our band, and giving us such a wonderful home on his label. It really means a lot, Dave. We promise not to let you down.

All that said, definitely expect us to be coming through your town in the next couple months with our fine labelmates: David Gray and Liz Phair

Keep your eyes peeled! Thanks for everything!

Preface: 
I started smoking because I wanted to know how it feels to be addicted to something, now I only do it in hopes that it raises my metabolism enough to negate the ill-effects of a lifestyle which often times can be summed up by the phrase ' skittles for breakfast'.

The problem is that I love skittles. I really do, but I am well aware that perhaps they are not the best way for my body to start the day. But what else am I to do? I didn't want to eat skittles for breakfast, but I did. You see, I have yet to be the kind of person who is making enough money to justify really spending my bread on bread. Therefore, I don't..unless of course it is for the sake of socializing, then I permit myself. The skittles were actually lying on my desk because I spent forty cents buying them on Tuesday. You might say ' but braden, you said you don't spend money on food?'. Well, I don't. However, there is something about my body: No matter how hard I try to stop it from needing/wanting to eat, it still wants/needs to eat. So, in a fit of guts-a-growlin' I decided to make a trip to the vending machine. I had exhausted the last of my box of twelve granola bars which I had been subsisting on for the past week or two. There really was no choice. I had noticed earlier when I went to fill up my water bottle that someone had obviously been fucked over by the vending machine gods. There, behind that glass, was wedged between the metal spiral and plastic divider that generally allowed the vending machine's sweet saccarhine goods to fall to their ultimate demise, a once-paid-for-never-eaten bag of skittles. I saw this as an oppurtunity. Thus, I spent my forty cents (the cost of one bag of skittles) on two bags of skittles.
Let me reiterate:
1 bag of skittles for Tuesday lunch
1 bag of skittles for Wednesday breakfast
I'm not sure which bag was free. I assumed the crunchy red skin of one of the bags would have been damaged during its near fatal smooshing by the machine, but neither were harmed. Both were immaculate. I of course felt like a douchebag who stole some poor hungry businessman/woman's skittles, but I was also overcome by my good frugal fortune. Not to mention, my feelings towards those whom I share a workspace with are of the somewhat negative persuasion. Until I get any interaction that is a bit less cordial hello/snicker behind my back at the fact that I wear the same clothes everyday and a bit more genuine smiles/curiosity about the fascinating young man who is so insouscient that he cares not about his singular wardrobe I shall continue to feel utterly unashamed for my skittle swiping douchebaggery.
I digress. The simple fact was that I was  in possession of two bags of skittles. This was wonderful, because after devouring the first bag I still had one left to do with what I pleased. Now, at first I wasn't sure whether or not I should just eat both bags at once..or perhaps save the second bag for a sweet late afternoon snack. I decided on the latter option, but once I got back to my desk it became apparent that I really shouldn't be wasting all my time eating skittles for there was much work to be done. By the time five o clock rolled around I still hadn't finished everything that I was supposed to have done for the day, this included my second bag of skittles. Thus, I was greeted by a few yet-to-be entered loan applications and a yet-to-be-breakfast bag of skittles when I arrived to work on wednesday morning.
I know that this seems like a trivial thing to indulge in such analytical thought processes over, but here is the the reason why it happens: I work inside of a robot.

1. Arsis - We Are The Nightmare
--------This is so brutal. I often cite Black Dahlia Murder as my fave metal band, and for the most part that is true. I think that Arsis comes in a close close second though...especially after listening to this record. I think, oddly, enough the difference comes with the fact that Arsis is just a better group of songwriters. They tend to really use dynamics to their advantage, which when it comes to writing nasty fuckin' metal is not an easy thing to do. You really want to just pummell everything that you can, rape everything that doesn't want to get touched, slit the throat of a bunch of children when making metal. Well, Arsis does that..AND they know their way around a melody (metalody).

2. Black Dahlia Murder - Nocturnal
--------Verdict: I like We Are The Nightmare more than Nocturnal, but not as much as Miasma. Points go to Arsis for having better solos.

3. Why? - Alopecia
--------If a better record comes out this year than this or Rabbit Habits....I'll give up on playing music immediately.

4. Cut Copy - In Ghost Colours
--------A sci-fi, novel-writing, to-a-fault introspective vegetarian who worked in a grocery store deli gave me the first cut copy record. I was pretty nonplussed in regards to it. I don't know why, it seemed a little thin, slightly too mechanical. This record makes me think I should give Bright Like Neon Love another chance. Plus, they are going to be in town soon, and I think I would really like to dance dance dance.

5. R.E.M - Accelerate
--------I confess that I haven't really heard much of the last few R.E.M records. I've spent enough time with their earlier albums to kind of have the R.E.M sound burnt into my head. Plus, I tried to get into a couple of the records after Monster...and, meh. Monster was also a bit uneven for me. I don't know, I think overall I'm not the HUGEST R.E.M fan. I like certain things about them A LOT, but the rest is just kind of blah. This record definitely reeks of vitriol, which is a nice change of pace. It might be a bit heavy handed, but it definitely rocks. It just kind of makes me think 'Yep, this is an R.E.M record'.

6. Elbow - The Seldom Seen Kid
--------I've given Elbow so many chances to get me excited, but it just hasn't happened. This record is super lush and grandiose. I like those things, but is just teeters on..I don't know...Adult Contempo? Not really, I'm not sure. I've never really liked his voice that much. I think my problem is that where I feel like they should be dark and gloomy they get all sunny and sweet. Not overwhelminly so, but just enough to not make me want to fuck my own neck with a butterknife. That's no fun at all.

7. The Kills - Midnight Boom
--------Hey Enis, how about some Fuck Music?

8. Kate Nash - Made Of Bricks
--------I'm glad she is popular. These songs are so clever and catchy. Plus, she's got herself some sass and musical chops. There are few people in this world that I want to have sex with more than Kate Nash, and even fewer that I choose to date over Kate Nash.

9. Cut Copy - In Ghost Colours
--------I really like this record. The vocoder is incredible. Also, I know some real babes who are really going to enjoy this album.

10. Grand Buffet - Five Years Of Fireworks
--------So Silly. I love novelty whiteboy rap. The thing is...it isn't even novelty to me, it's an artform! This isn't as vulgar as I would like, but that's ok. It's still fun.

1. Cadence Weapon - Afterparty Babies
--------As far as hip hop/rappin' goes, I'm relatively picky. I want it to either be really smart with weird phatazz beatz, or extremely vulgar with a beat that is just kind of nastay.  Cadence Weapon falls into the former category, I think. He is generally pretty clever, nice flow, sometimes strange synthy beats . I was told this record is not good at all *ahem*. I wouldn't go THAT far. It isn't as good as anything Busdriver has ever done, and maybe not as good as Breaking Kayfabe, but whatever. It still has mostly wonderful rhymes and mostly wonderful production...so what if it gets a tad bit messy from time to time?

2. Man Man - Rabbit Habits
--------Still Amazing. Still!

3. Chromatics - Night Drive
--------The last time that I listened to this record was on a night drive. It was after a 3.5 hour break up session, and I was feeling more than a little like a giant douche bag. I guess I thought it would be a nice accompaniment to feeling slightly empty. It's so sparse and dreary dream-y. I made a good choice, the only problem is right now I am going back to that moment. Great. It really does fit perfectly with the somber mood of a heartbreaking drive home (or heartbreaking nostalgia in a cubicle)...in the 80's.

4. Clientele - Strange Geometry
--------I sort of wrote these guys off after not falling in love with the Violet Hour, and then seeing them open for Spoon and being soooo booooorrrred. Well, I still don't care that much about the Violet Hour, but I really really like this band nowadays. Strange Geometry is so sad and pretty. I say sad, but it is a weird kind of sadness. It's the sort that comes right when catharsis hits. It is such a difficult feeling to capture with music, but they do it so well.

5. Clientele - God Save The Clientele
-------I'm feeling so sleepy and lame today. Someone should take a jaunt over here and slap me in the face with one of their sexual appendages. Sexual appendages. Actually, Listening to this album directly after Strange Geometry makes it seem much more upbeat than the aforementioned record. Of course, I mean as upbeat as a Clientele record can be.

...Sexual appendages.

6. Clockcleaner - Babylon Rules
--------The lines "My daddy's been gone for seven years/I've been trying to get my girlfriend pregnant the whole damn time/She won't let me cum inside of her/So I just leave it across her smile" are reason number one why I love this record. I just wish the rest of the songs were as good as Daddy Issues and Vomiting Mirrors. If they just wouldn't indulge themselves in 8 minute dirges (even though the songs themselves are so nasty and awesome) this record would probably something I listen to a lot more often than I actually do.

7. David & The Citizens - Stop The Tape! Stop The Tape!
--------His older stuff, I understand why it was always likened to Bright Eyes. Though, the only things I really think were alike were his ultra-tremelo vocals and the fact that both acts made sad kinda folk music. If Conor Oberst would release a record as wonderfully poppy and emotive as this one I might still be as excited about Bright Eyes as I was in highs school. Also, the song 48h fucking kills me...for obvious or not so obvious reasons. I don't know.

8. Yelle - Pop Up
--------She's French. She's a babe. She makes really really really bubblegummy pop music using some wicked synth sounds. She does not sing in English. I would have sex with her.

9. Whirlwind Heat - Types of Wood
--------Ariel was wearing a Whirlwind Heat shirt the day I met her. I think I like the idea of this band more than I actually enjoy the music. I think the line between artfully sloppy and just not being that great of musicians comes a little too close to being blurred on their records. Yeah, this totally reminds me of Ariel.

10. Tunng - Good Arrows
--------Tunng is like a British Angels Of Light. I mean, they don't have the ferocity of Michael Gira, and really their songs aren't quite as good. The low lying instrumentation, and use of repition just really reminds me of it. I think if the songs were more blatantly depressing, or more blatantly catchy...maybe just more blatant overall, I would like them more. This stuff just kind of slips into the background (aside from bullets, which is an insanely good song). It is really good walking to catch the train in autumn music, but right now it is Spring. C'mon!