You all alone in these streets, cousin

It feels good, I'm not gonna lie.

Today's lesson:

Cowardly hearts end straight up shook ones!


Those who wanna profile and pose:

as opposed to



my Lakeshowww family who got nuff shots to share:

Lookie, I got through this whole post without using the "You all up in the game and don't deserve to be a player" line!

DJ Quik & Kurupt - "9 Times Outta 10"

WE
THE
WEST
!

Oh Kurupt, the way you swooped in and opened "Girls All Pause" with your jaunty little flow so many years ago has won you my affections, plus a permanent place in my music-nerd heart.

9 times outta 10, it works...every time. (Also, 60% of the time)

In other news, it appears that Quik traveled through Virginia on his last vacation. No judgment here, my friend; you've been around for-EV-er and done some excellent sonic work so you get a pass if you want to do a little style-biting and incorporate some spare, icy Neptunes-ness into your repertoire. And PS, that break right around the 43-second mark is killing/murdering/destroying me. Thank youuuuu, Quikster.




Oh wait, one more thing! When they pull that whole simultaneous rapping move around 01:25, it is good and I like it. Attention MCs, you need to be doing more of this on your tracks please. Love, Logan.

Squincy Jones - "Pop Trunk Nintendub"

OK, I need a minute of your time:
CRUNKSTEP is my new fornication partner! (at least for today)
Once again, I am dismayed that there's been music in existence that comes from Texas and that would make me happy but that the universe withheld from me until now. Being deprived doesn't look good on me; I like stuff now, and in large doses, thankyoukindly.

Busta, plus some 5th Ward trunk-poppin, stirred until thoroughly combined and poured into a pan and baked in a Nintendo oven by our hero, the comically named Squincy Jones. He's got some kind of mixtape from last year that's download-able but I don't really care. You guys, he's from Houston--do you think he knows Bun? Will he introduce us? Will I have time to gain weight by then so Bun looks at me like a man's supposed to?? Such is the dramatic existence of a female music nerd with a web log.

I invited this jammy over to my place and I wanted it to undress me and corrupt me the whole time we hung out. I know you're dying to hear details but that's just not how I do things. A classy lady never tells.



Headphones, you need 'em for this.

"Adult male human sitting, looking at pieces of vinyl somehow enthralling to nerdy female blogger"

"Passion saves the day."

- Ray Bradbury

(The record at Pete's left foot = in my collection too = that break that I wanna be on and do inappropriate things with)

Oscar Wilde tells it.

I've been in denial for years, but I must give in at this point and admit that I'm in agreement.
Friendship's overrated anyway.


"Between men and women there is no friendship possible.
There is passion, enmity, worship, love,
but no friendship."

The Roots. The Fornicator. The Lakeshowww.

1. The Roots' Illadelph demos!



2. Nike introduces new Intercourse Shoe.
















"a lightweight copulating shoe designed to maximize sexual performance"



3. The Lakeshow & Don Cornelius circa '83!
You can learn how to dress just by checkin my fresh (checkin checkin my fresh):

I can't feel my face.

"No puedo sentir la cara," say our amigos in Madrid y Barcelona.
I hear Storchy's moving there. Adios, mayne.

"Air pollution has long been a fact of life in Spanish cities, but scientists now say that it is not just smog that chokes people as they walk to work or stroll through the park.

A new study has found the air in Madrid and Barcelona is also laced with at least five drugs - most prominently cocaine."

- Link

Brian Peter George St. John le Baptiste de la Salle Eno

...was born on this day in the year nineteen hundred and forty eight, thereby changing your life cuz there'd be no music nerdage from me without Eno. Brian deserves a big fat birthday card from you; show some goddamn respect, new jacks! (just kiddin, love you guys. xo.)

Eno equals my childhood when I was steeped in music nerdery, which equals a grown n' legal vinyl fiend ambiguously ethnic blogger of the female persuasion who is obsessed with music nerdery, which equals fun and wonderful any way you look at it.
(He doesn't care for coke raps, but I can look beyond that).

Second verse, same as the first.

Tame One feat. Del - "Catch Me"

The Artifacts! I'm so '90s and for that I will not apologize!
The Weathermen! I'm SO '00s and for that I refuse to apologize!
This track is like a year old. I had no idea it existed. Shhh, nobody has to know.

The delivery (of both of 'em) and that BREAK! OMG! I don't know how I'm gonna be able to concentrate at work today. Let's have some fun, people.






http://www.thelaf.net/wp/wp-content/uploads/2008/06/tame-one-catch-me-f-del.mp3
(No-cussin version. Sorry.)

Camilla Belle is a biter

We all know I had a lesbatronic moment with her but the way to my heart is not by plagiarizing my style. If I dealt in cliches I might say something like "This town ain't big enough for the 2 of us."

Calm down,
be yourself,
and don't sweat the technique*, fellow skinny girl with thick eyebrows.



*
























(that album = pending post. One day it'll all make sense.)

Pessoas pensam que eu sou uma menina da Curitiba

Bloodlines go back to Recife--just a quarter of me, but the genes are strong and that's where the mail-order-girl-from-small-village look comes from. It's a good conversation-starter at the club ("You Russian? Persian/Irish? Argentinean?") even though I hate the club, plus when I go to my dentist on Venice Bl the dudes hanging out in front of the little grocery store start talking to me in Portuguese like I'm a Carioca and that's lovely.

I don't huff glue like the favela kids but I'm in my bikini approx. 82% of the time and a lil atabaque and bass goes well with my master's degree. Diplo fetishizes this stuff a bit much for my taste sometimes (ooohh, exotic brown bodies and poverty and sex and guns!), and I don't know why this film didn't come out in '05 when your favorite quiet little blogger was living and eating and inhaling the 12"s of it ("Melô da mulher feia"! 2 Live Crew better than 2 Live Crew did it), but I won't get too into being preachy cuz that's annoying and I realize this. Plus I like the use of The Who down below. Well played, Wes Pentz. I see you.




.
.

Grizzly Bear's "Two Weeks" as part of my manic depressive morning

I had a terrible case of Pouty Face this morning.

However, the music gods dropped this off in my little apartment around 7 AM.
And then I remembered real clearly that pretentious Brooklyn boys with guitars singing a sunshiny tune always, always help lift the spirits after a girl's team loses.


(Harmonies and Le Ballon Rouge...you're a genius, YouTube person who thought of this combo.)



Life is wonderful.
(check back with me about this statement after Sunday's game, however)

Rae understands me and is my soul mate.

Tell a friend/it's that symbol again!

(First of all, class is in session over here, thanks to my SK knowledge peddler. Wu recognize Wu! Gentlemen in attendance, I'm really gonna need for you to have a thorough grasp of some kinda Wu history before I let you have a thorough grasp of my body. Tee hee.)

Now we must switch Wu gears and focus on a different god...the swift chancellor, flex, the white-gold tarantula! He's been everywhere lately due to all the talk about Cuban Links, the sequel, this time it's personal, so it would make sense that he's been everywhere lately on this little web log.


This interview will excite you. Oh wait, you're not me, so it probably won't.
It sorta made me feel all kinds of amazing (which doesn't take much, let's be honest) because Rae reveals that he loves that Port Arthur, diamond-dipped, big-boned rapping superhero who's the bawss of the Gulf!

"...the stories that we talk about on the album, it’s a perfect fit. So don’t think you gonna hear me going into some south shit. Because I can kill some south shit if it’s hard enough, but Bun stepped in my chamber. And me and Bun is almost the same kinda n---. We got the same kind of life stories. So it makes sense [for us to collaborate]."

"I feel like he a cuban link n--- within hisself, and he talk that talk...I’ma big, big fan of Bun B."

ME TOO, RAE! I knowww, isn’t he the best? Twitter me about it; let’s keep the dialogue going. I wish Bun would step in my chamber too. Sigh. Draped up, dripped out, throwed, trill, allothat.

"To Port Arthur"

- Link

Rick. Mos. Pelican.

1. 5-second lesson on mastering ceremonies, by Prof. Ricky Walters.

01:45 - 01:50, thankyouverymuch.
When you can knock 'em out the box and move the crowd while performing over the vocal track, you're the winner and still champion. Congrats, Rick!



"rat-a-tat-tatted and aaallll the cops scattered"


2. The Mighty Mos wants you to listen to: The Roots of Africa, Georgia Anne, and DOOM (obvs, cuz of that dude crush he's still harboring).


3. Penguin-books style album covers!

- Link

Janette Turner Hospital.

"We inherit plots.
There are only two or three in the world, five or six at the most.
We ride them like treadmills."

(Gallo's a hideous Republican but his tortured brilliantness and this film make me forget that. Aw Billy.)

Sermon rocks beats that's mega trifle

I do realize that I am more excited about this stuff than any other human is, but just play along in my game of music nerdery real quick for me.

"Erick Sermon has stated he was supposed to provide a beat on Nas' Illmatic but it ended up not making the cut.

'I worked with Nas in 1991 when he was working on (the album). My song didn't make it. But I have a song that could have been on the "Lost Songs of Illmatic." '"

wait for it.

"Setting up history, Sermon added, 'When he left my house, he went to Pete Rock's house.'

Sermon's track has yet to surface, including on 2004's 10th anniversary re-release of the album."

-HipHopDx

THIS GUY. Comedy. Pure, unadulterated. Mitch Hedberg has nothing on you, Mr. Sermon. It is my understanding that the kids today use the term "FAIL" in these kinds of situations, yes?

"Yeah man, the track is good, you're in, Erick...lemme just go to PETE FUCKING ROCK'S for a minute and handle some stuff." (what Nas said, in the reenactment in my head)

aaaaand scene.


In other news, you know an album is classically epic when dudes are even bragging about not making the cut. OH ERICK.

PS - Part deux! "I'm just happy that he reached out. Watch out. The beats are coming crazy."

New (old) CoFlow, because I am obsessed to an unhealthy degree.

(1994, previously unreleased or so I'm told.)


60% of the time it works...every time.





"Hit Me With That Shit."

http://divshare.com/direct/7319807-570.mp3

The Headband x The Gay Fish. Respectful snaps. Brass, Snoop, Paris. And Ian, just because.

1. The Machine, Slavic fierceness, 808s, heartbreak, etc., for that dumb little team from Texas last night.




PS, I never realized before that lyrics this impossibly awful and unintentionally comical have actually been laid down over a beat by The Gay Fish. Clearly I knew he was a problem, but this is next-levels terribleness. You got a lotta nerve, Mr. West.

"Standing at my podium
I'm trying watch my sodium
Die high blood pressure
You even let the Feds getcha"

OH DEAR.


2. Respectful "Yo Mama" jokes!

"Yo mama is so supportive of you and your efforts that I wouldn't be surprised if you were incredibly successful as a result."

"Yo mama is so Internet-savvy she should start her own social-networking site designed specifically for moms. It would be really popular."

- McSweeney's

3. This situation called the Hot 8 Brass Band...never heard of 'em and I love 'em. My people have informed me that this single will be sold at Turntable Lab, which might convince me to lift that boycott I ordered after the tragic event known as the "Ash Roth Debacle of 2009."

It's like that and as a matter of fact (rat-tat-tat-tat):






4. Ian. Just because.

(wish I could give photo credit, but I don't know where it's from. Thank you for the lovely image, anonymous photog)

Pedro Bell gets the hypebeast treatment

Ryan Hickey was always underrated! Moving on...

Supreme put together this feature about the stupendous Pedro Bell, who designed all the Funkadelic cover goodness.

I grew up in atheistic, heathen, analog bliss in a cloud of weed smoke thanks to my leftists for parents, the 2 least uptight people on the planet who had the whole discography up to Uncle Jam Wants You. I remember being a kid and seeing booties and nipples and nekkidness on these covers, and look, I turned out just fine. Mom and Dad/they knew the time!








Supreme also decided to provide us all with this tour de force of a t-shirt. If you're my future husband, congrats, cuz you're gonna get laced by me. Act surprised, tell me I'm the greatest, put D'Angelo's "Lady" on the hi-fi in tribute to me, and then graciously let me borrow the shirt, k? (thanks in advance; I'll wear it as pj's).

What goes around comes around.

Big Ant International did these for the Global Coalition for Peace, designed to wrap around poles. I have moved beyond my throbbing jealousy over not having thought of these designs myself, and I am now pleased to announce that I'm in love with them.

Also, it turns out that we've passed our PE phase and have now entered yet another CoFlow phase (this happens every 45 days; you can set your watch to it).

Half-ass crews get demolished and bruised

I find that being lazy and posting lovely pictures I come across*, rather than buckling down/focusing/planning out and writing fresh content, makes me especially alluring.

In tragic news, I fear I shall have to put in less work here because of another bloggy gig I have procured that doesn't allow me to use the F word but is more professional and therefore more time-consuming. (Hi Tay! Let's connect politic ditto!)



*

While my JVC vibrates the concrete

Because I am a college-educated female living in a major metropolis, it is mandated by law that I listen to NPR. It never lets me down. In other semi-related news, stay tuned for my "Men of Judaic Persuasion Whose Intellect Makes Them Strangely Hot" series, kicking off with Ira Glass!

Video companion to that story from a couple weeks ago. They're not all as soft and plush as mine, unfortunately.

via DimeWars

2 things that kill it, 05/11/09. And 1 thing that does not.

1. Next to "Let me set your body aflame/I'll never treat you like a dame or run game..."

"DOOM now on vinyl" is the sweetest-sounding phrase in the English language.

- Link

2. Del turns into his father, admits he knows nothing, gives me free music, continues to be super fresh after all these years.

multitasker.

"I'm waking up every day and thinking, 'Man, I'm Pops,' he said. 'Back when my Pops was like, "Turn that mess off, all it is is garbage, you don't know nothing about real music"' -- I'm doing that now."

"People are like, 'You're giving it away for free? What's the catch?' I'm like, 'There is no catch. You ain't gonna buy it. I know you ain't gonna buy it. But you might listen to it if I give it to you.'"


3. A world of NO:

I thought Lupe had been successfully eradicated-? OH DEAR, it appears that he has a new album set to torture us all. That's weird, cuz I didn't realize kindergartners could get record deals. This was allegedly written by a grown-ass man, even though it reads like a book report from Mrs. Martin's science class:

Easy on the exclamation points there, buddy. Now please get yourself to the studio so you can put in a hot guest appearance on Kid Cudi's next masterpiece.

PS, bonus "Oh Word"-age: "Laser" is an acronym! I know, just when you guys thought I couldn't get any sexier. The line for marriage proposals forms to the left.

Fly jewels. Wally shoes. blow stacks. relax, kid.

'member that time I told you I enjoy both the hip-hop music and fair and humane working conditions?

The Clark brothers were Quakers! This meant that they invested in the community, looked after their workers, and built them homes. My music-nerd brain needs constant information like this in order to keep running. You gotta feed the beast.
As we can all see from this post, my ridiculous Wu-ness is not subsiding despite the years. It's not a problem, really; I can quit anytime I want. I don't need it in order to get through the day or anything, it just helps when I'm sad. Or happy. Or with other people, or alone. Or before work or after work. But still...not a problem or a sick dependency, honest. Also, I'm not defensive--you're defensive.

Everybody just relax; I know it looks nothing like him. But the Ghostdini robe, the medallion the size of a dinner plate, the little Wallys. C'mon.

- Clarks Shoes

"In 1959 there was a widespread consciousness that we were on the verge of something...

...All kinds of things were breaking free of their gravitational pull."

Kind of Blue is 50. (kind of 50? Sorry.)

- LA Times

Miles' version of "Dumb rappers need teaching":

“If they act too hip, you know they can’t play shit.”

English class, 05/11/09

CHAPTER V: An Approach to Style

1. Place yourself in the background.

"Write in a way that draws the reader's attention to the sense and substance of the writing, rather than to the mood and temper of the author.

To achieve style, begin by affecting none--that is, place yourself in the background. A careful and honest writer does not need to worry about style. As you become proficient in the use of language, your style will emerge, because you yourself will emerge, and when this happens you will find it increasingly easy to break through the barriers that separate you from other minds, other hearts--which is, of course, the purpose of writing, as well as its principal reward."

- The Elements of Style
(Strunk and White, authors)

They might be loose in the park, or lurkin at the train station.
('cept it sounds like "pahhhk"; get 'em, Roxbury!)

In my life/why do I give valuable time

to people who don't care if i live or die?

Sunday morning w/Mr. Blonde

I found the 45 of this approximately 1,457 days ago, did an excited jump-up-and-down dance when I extracted it from a bin at Bagatelle, brought it home, and everything's been lovely ever since.

Basslines are sex. This concludes today's lesson.




Reservoir Dogs is Tarantino's Illmatic. There shall be no debate about this, so please save your emails and private Twitter messages (always private, whyyy? Dudes are ashamed to be seen with me on the Internets in front of their boys or something, I don't know).

'91-'92 Tarantino, come back! Bring 'em out/bring 'em out, and save the cinematic landscape!






PS - Ohandonemorething: MADSENNNN.

"I don't give a good fuck what you know or don't know, I'm going to torture you anyway."


It used to be all about Roth (that Barretta speech in the mirror, c'mon) but then one day I came to my senses. Mr. Blonde gives me hot, coursing, older man psychopath warm-in-special-places feelings. Make um say...daddy complex?

The Raconteurs - "Level"

If this does not make you want to remove yourself from your clothing then the logical assumption would have to be that you do not have genitals.

Enjoy this thing that happened in '06 when Jack White got with a sick-ass clique and went ALL-OUT:


(superior to the album version, trust.)