mp3

"Kiteracer 2" by Boards Of Canada + "Pleen 1930s" by Chris Clark

The first track here, "Kiteracer 2" comes from BoC's unreleased Old Tunes Vol. 2. A very mellow track, it resists any common description. The poetic approach is much more apt, so imagine this: you are driving across a bridge. The sun is setting; you are heading towards it. You know of all the troubles that you have out behind you; of all the troubles that still plague you. You are unsure of the troubles ahead. Regardless of this fear, you continue driving, moving forward, compelled not only by necessity but by the beauty in tragedy.

"Pleen 1930s" is, as the title suggests, pure nostalgia. There is an immediate, ambiguous airiness that permeates the song before a very simple, very glittering, piano melody enters. Things seem to move in slow motion. Despite its contrast to more fatal release of "Kiteracer 2", both songs manage to provide a wonderfully bittersweet happiness--a happiness that, while reminding us of life's beauty, simultaneously reminds us of its deepest regrets.

Merry Christmas, happy Hanukkah et al., and good night.

Download "Kiteracer 2" and "Pleen 1930s" (Mediafire, 192 Mp3)

Well, I was going to post some Cocteau Twins for y'all, and I was going to state that their glacial shoegazing is the perfect soundtrack for trimming a tree or eating holiday Oreos or some shit. I then remembered that all the available pictures of the Cocteau Twins are beyond Squid Can's acceptable level of fugly (hence Gertrude Stein's notable absence from this site). Thus the reason for providing the following track from an artist that not only flew under everyone's radar but was probably more hidden than Santa is to NORAD.

Okay, enough dumb jokes. Olivia McClurkin--who I just learned (as in I just googled her name and discovered this) died around this time last year--was a gospel vocalist. Her 2008 album, The Healing Song, is certainly just that: a gospel album. But since people invent dumb genre names frequently (nu rave hurrrr durrrr), I've decided to tag this album with the following genre (one of high invention, clearly): trip-gospel. BECUZ IT'S LIKE GOSPEL AND DA TRIPPIDY HOPPITY, DO YA GET IT?

Well, here's a free sample for you to download (256vbr, Mediafire), and you can buy Ms. McClurkin's album for mere pocket change (seriously) at Amie Street. Enjoy!

Two years ago I was a huge PJ Harvey fan. Not a memorabilia-collecting sort of huge, but a sizable chunk of my listening was spent on the lovely Polly Jean. I don't find myself listening to the old gal these days as much as I used to--too much ambient and noise rock to digest, natch--but Harvey's music is still a mighty fine example of what 90s alternative could do: rend norms, bridge gaps, and cultivate cults.

Download two PJ Harvey tracks (192 & 256k Mp3, Mediafire)

The song "Goodbye Horses" is most readily remembered as the track that accompanied Buffalo Bill's gender-bending dance scene in The Silence of the Lambs. The singer of this gem, Q Lazzarus, is best remembered as not being remembered. But this should not be the case. Q Lazzarus--a woman with one hell of a husky voice--produced so little output (at most, three songs, not including remixes) that she was hastily forgotten by the general public, barring the occasional Buffalo Bill parody. So here I give you "Goodbye Horses", not in hopes of inciting copyright watchdogs (not that I've given a shit about the other hundreds of Mp3s I've posted), but in the hopes that you will enjoy it.

Go ahead. Try to listen to this song just once. And when you fail at that, come join in me the camp that loves this woman's oddly endearing music.

Download (256vbr, Mediafire)

WARNING: Extreme hipster douchebaggery is in this post.

There are times when I look at my 300+ scrobbles of Animal Collective and feel great shame, saying to myself, "How? How did I become such a mindless indie kid asshole?" But then I listen to songs like "Reverend Green" and I think I understand the increasing relevance of Animal Collective.

Doubtlessly, they are a band made by the internet. Without thousands upon thousands of twenty-something hipsters plugging into Stereogum and Pitchfork each day, verbally fapping over Panda Bear's latest t-shirt, there would be no Animal Collective. Yet thanks to the internet--the Holy Grail of the postmodern age--Animal Collective has exploited a niche for its mildly experimental approach to 'rock music,' whatever that means anymore.

Rolling Stone seems to hold some sort of grudge against Animal Collective. It's understandable, given that Stone is as far from being culturally relevant as Dane Cook is from actual comedy (oooo, burn'd). Counterculture is no longer 'counter' to anything. It's mainstream. Animal Collective takes gleeful residence in that fact.

Generation Y (moar like generation postmodern douchebag, amirite?) takes great pleasure in the shallowest of cultural depths--Jersey Shore, Lady GaGa, Will Ferrell. To put it crudely, Generation Y loves shit. Animal Collective is to shit what Led Zeppelin was to counterculture. Their songs are anthems of shit as Zeppelin's songs were anthems of rebellion. Hipsters and semi-hipsters find this to be just about the greatest thing ever, for Animal Collective reveals what Generation Y knows but is unwilling to admit--that, taken as a whole, we are a generation of shit-connoisseurs. And we would have it no other way.

Download "Winter Wonderland" (Mediafire, 320 Mp3)

God, I'm so sick of not posting here. It's fucking Christmas. This is prime blogging season (derp). Here are some (sorta) rare remixes from that wacky alternative pop singer Bahzhork (that's how you pronounce her name, right?).

Oh, and the review challenge is extended to January 31st now. Um. Yeah.

And, hey, new menu buttons! And Christmasy icons. Swell. Maybe you can update the site once in a while, Alex. You know, when you're not being a douche.

B.J. York Remixes on Mediafire

P.S. Got accepted to Emerson. Celebrate.

Maybe I'll start posting new, interesting content when I get un-sick and I makeup my work before break. Ah, you don't care. I'm just some guy who gives you sample songs in lossless. New reviews tomorrow (fingers crossed; not trying to troll your hopes).

Download "The Smallest Weird Number" by Boards Of Canada (Mediafire, ALAC)

Wow, great pick to kick off the Christmas season, Alex. A song called "Love Less"? Class. Real classy. Why not upload some MBV's seminal album of the same name, huh? That's 'Christmasy.' And that picture, what's that? Some avant-garde feminist thing? Screw that, you don't even have pictures of snowmen or anything, do you?

Sometimes it's a hassle to post things here. I look at people's Tumblrs and I'm like, "Wow, that's it?" or "What, you made 800 posts this month alone?" I need to format this shit like its 1998. Hell, I'm so far in the blogging past I might as well drag out my old CueCat.
Download "Love Less" by New Order (Megaupload, V0 Mp3)

P.S. In this post: foreshadowing.

Obligatory Thanksgiving post. Listen to some British music. Off to Best Buy in four-and-a-half-hours with two friends. WHAT IS GOING ON HERE. Reviews will be back soon.

Download "Vanishing Point" by New Order (Wikisend, V0 Mp3) (Link expired)

I'm on a total Boards Of Canada kick lately. I've been re-buying the albums I own on Mp3 mainly so I can listen to the BEST BAND EVAR in the highest quality when I get my new headphones for Christmas.

Yeah, I need a life.
Download "Open the Light"

...Into someone's 'bumper' that is. No subtext there, right? Hmm? Yep.
So, it's 1981 when Grace Jones releases this video. There's wide-angle city shots, blurred lights, androgyny, and one hell of a funky chorus. Did I say '1981'? I think I meant nineteen-eighty-AWESOME.

Download "Slave to the Rhythm" (Hot Blooded Version)(via Filedropper)

Something nice for Veterans Day.
Download "Dawn Chorus" by Boards Of Canada (Link expired)

P.S. Cheers for a year or so of Squid Can not-sucking--the first 'good' post in months also happened to be the first mixtape.

Go to bed.

Download"Swinging in the Park at Night" by Lullatone (Wikisend) (Link expired)

Old pic. Washington, DC, May 2008. Taken from a hotel window.

Download "Statue of Liberty" by Boards Of Canada

I think I should make this into a series--a photograph, a witless quip, and a piece of jive-ass music. Also, pic is sorta not related, but whatever. It's vintage, and the song is vintage. Eh. I'm not so good in logic.

Download: "My Buddy" by Doris Day (via Filedropper)

Instead of doing homework Monday night, I decided to look around for sites that could 'cartoonify' me. Swell idea. Eventually, I came upon a site that lets you make Miis and---DAMN, IT'S BJÖRK!

DAMN, IT'S ME!
I'm a cutie even in Mii form, huh?

Here's a deliciously dark remix for you:
Download< "Cover Me" (Plaid Mix) (Wikisend) (Link expired)
You can visit the Mii-site here.

Some classic Aphex Twin for those quiet moments.
Download "Blue Calx" (Mediafire)
(Photo by me)

Seizensetsu by Hi-Posi
2000, 13 tracks at 43 min.
Buy CD Sample

RATING: 46 out of 50

Man, does anyone else feel like having a seizure right now? I sure do, but it may just be the Hi-Posi. If there was ever an album designed to have you dance like a Pichu fed by gavage, then this is it (keep track of all the Pokémon references in this review, true believers!).

Cut from the same national cloth that gave us Boredoms, Melt Banana, Excel Saga, and the Sarin Gas Attacks (too soon?), it should come of no surprise to anyone who is not an idiot that Hi-Posi is such a ‘kooky’ gal. It is often this special brand of Nipponese (damn, before you know it, I be makin’ fun of Jynx) insanity that has inspired countless artists douchebags. After all, where would Sonichu be today without the Oriental imports from which he is so obviously ripped? Where would weeabos be without the mountains of hentai to which they pleasure themselves? Where would I be without my earliest groundings in G-Gundam (all da charatiz on dat show were hot)?

Hi-Posi is of no likewise-revolutionary stripes, but her combination of Yoshimio-like skullduggery, Shonen-Knife-like powerpuffery, and Towa-Tei-like beat-mastery is enchanting. The opening track (also the title track) is a pinball machine gone mad. Every track, actually, is a pinball machine gone mad. Maybe a more apt description would be thus—‘On Seizensetsu, Hi-Posi weaves forty-five minutes of sticky poison-pop threads; so potent is their toxicity, in fact, that you may mistake her for a Nidoqueen.’

But that makes no sense—much like the numerous sexual puns supposedly present on this album (puns I can’t understand because I’m a sinful gaijin). But nothing makes sense on this album. There’s crowded background shouting (“Sonae Yotsuneni”), alt-ish guitar (“Core”), haunted taunting (“Iranaimono Risuto”), squiggly noir (“Gomendawa”) and naïvely adorability (“Denki”). All of this makes for something not quite cute, not quite satirical, and maybe not even shibuya-kei—it is, in all honorable respects, a polite mindfuck.

Remember in the Red, Blue, and Yellow Pokémon games your tireless frustration upon discovering that you had to wake the road-blocking Snorlax up with a special ‘Pokéflute’? The vexation was endless, clearly. Well, Hi-Posi is a kick in the balls to Snorlaxes everywhere. She will keep you awake, forever—if you’re into that sort of thing. Otherwise, this is prime Asian fetish material.

Hey! It’s Halloween!
Well, it was Halloween. Daylight savings time, that’s my excuse.

Non-Stop Pagan Party Dance Music that I’ve been digging as of late:
The 5.6.7.8’s – Mr. Lee
Björk – Batabid
Wendy Carlos – Moonscapes: Io
Converge – Color Me Blood Red (Original master)
Islands – Vapours
Yoshimio – Chuwow
The Knife – Poetry by Night
Five Hot Bitches – Wet Mattress
The Gerogerigegege – Ensam I Natt

Download all of these treats

Also, wow, NEW BRIGHT EYES LEAK ZOMG DL DIS NOW!!!!!

Look at this photo and listen to their music

Halloween is fast approaching, and aside from a few other ongoing features counting down to the big day, I thought that a series on some truly hellish music would be of great benefit. After all, Squid Can is your premier music blog. Right?

Well, even if it isn’t, I do knows me some good nightmare music, and here’s the first suggestion on my list: Phantom Orchard by Zeena Parkins and Ikue Mori. Parkins, an electric harp virtuoso (perhaps the electric harp virtuoso), seemed a natural match for label-mate and former-DNA drummer Ikue Mori. On Phantom Orchard, the two combine their talents of drum-machine skullduggery and plucked-string-poltergeists to create a beautifully possessed piece of work. Machines grumble, ghouls gasp for air, and melody is surrendered to elegantly savage noise—all in the impressive span of 40 minutes.

Similarly, you may want to look into one of Parkins’ several solo efforts, Nightmare Alley. As the title implies, Nightmare Alley conjures up images of nightmares, alleys, or both. Seven-minute electro-harp songs are not for everyone, but if you’re into succubi and other such demons, then tracks such as “Wonder Woman” and “Peephole” will keep you entertained. In addition, Parkins manages to make the electric harp sound both sinister and cartoonish—a feat of sorts, which leads me to believe that one should look no further for music to accompany a haunted house. Really—if you’re hosting any such event you should get Nightmare Alley.

Download "Hula"

If you want less of a Tzadik approach to your Halloween instrumentals, look towards the underwhelming experimentalisms put forth by Black Dice on Load Blown. Despite the rude charm of the album’s title, Load Blown sounds less like cutting-edge originality and more like a truly fucking pretentious Martin Denny. If you’re not up to the challenge that Parkins and Mori provide, though, Load Blown is a decent midway—chaotic, sophomoric, and rambling. All of these attributes, appropriately, match the mood of everyone’s favorite pagan holiday.

Next installment: phantom wimmenz.

I'll be back soon; I promise!
Sort of bogged with school work and being cool (ha, right) at the moment.
Check out my Flickr, in the meanwhile; that shit is blazin'.
Mp3: "Tangent" by Beth Orton

Phoenix Demos by Kate Bush
[Bootleg], 1976, 23 tracks at 60 min
[Mp3] Download from DonGrays.com

RATING: 4.5 out of 5

One has to wonder what happened to Kate Bush. In 1978, she’s shrieking like a siren about Emily Brontë novels; four years later and she’s proselytizing anti-Nam sentiment and bellowing like a donkey satan-lord to lyrics concerning houses and Houdini. It’s disappointing when the two are compared—her earlier, funkier works often seem shallow compared to the rigid and uncompromising art pop of her middle period. Yet if one takes a listen to her 1976 recordings—collectively dubbed the Phoenix Demos—there’s a happy medium between both eras.

According to DonGrays.com, Bush isn’t particularly fond of these demos being public. But the webmaster of this ancient site is also unpleased with bootleggers getting money off material not intended for the market. Thus, the whole collection is available online for free. So, nothing is stopping you from getting a hold of this unofficial release. But what should you expect from this pack of woman-on-a-piano pieces, and where does it fit into the Bush canon?

The songs here are stark, stripped of whatever avant-garde leotard Bush would be wearing ten years later. Still transparent, however, is Bush’s talent for impeccable melody and theatricality. Tracks like “Where Are the Lionhearts” and “Come Closer to Me Babe” express and maintain the melancholia and exuberance of her later works. There’s no shortage of skill here, and the unrefined mien is charming, if not essential. One gets the sense that, with only a touch of training, Bush could have gone straight from here to The Dreaming in terms of emotional output.

For that reason, this collection is perfect for a rainy night or those moments when you feel like reading an Albert Camus novel and crying over your crap life. The Phoenix Demos are not substantive or coherent, but are they passionate, atmospheric, and—most crucial—the cartilage of Kate Bush’s career.

Mom is lining up peanuts for the squirrels on the front porch, her grand-nephew smiling on as she does so. I look up at her while following my cousin Chris to the side door.
“What’s that deranged look for, Alex?” asks Mom jokingly.
“Well, I wasn’t going to say anything,” says Chris, and I laugh.

See that little vignette? I’m not just a blogger. I’m a writer.

Done laughing? Good, because I have some news. I’ll be adding some half-assed recurring posts to the site. As you can see, I haven’t been keeping up that well with the posting schedule, so I’m adding the following quick-n-easy ‘categories’ so that I can post at least one a day, even if it just a little blurb and a picture.

Don’t Quote Me on That: A post with a quote and a picture. That’s it.
Portfolio: A collection of five or so images, taken by myself, culled from around the web, or scanned from books, magazines, or other printed sources.
Adlets: An ad from a magazine or comic book that I’ve found and scanned, then critiqued in classic Squid fashion.
Vignette: Little stories like the one above, accompanied by a picture and maybe some music.
Better Together: Two works of art—whether a book, a poem, a song, or whatever—that were meant to be together.

Well, there’s my news post for the day. But, really, HOW LAME IS THIS SITE?

Mp3: “F.M. Dial” by Mathhead
Next album review: Curtain Call and Shopping for Images by Midaircondo; The Dreaming by Kate Bush

Watch this: French and Saunders meet Star Wars (YT)
Read this: “The Mirror” by Louise Glück (Scribd)
Cool beans: How to make snazzy blockquotes (via Intervisual's Flickr)

Ready for da cold.

There’s nothing better than coming home after a long week, checking my Squid Can ‘updates’ email, and finding this:

After nearly two decades writing and recording some of her generation’s most emotionally powerful music, Tori Amos will release her first seasonal album, Midwinter Graces, on November 10 via Universal Republic.”

Woah. Did I read that right? A Tori Amos seasonal album? Complete with goofy cover art and songs that may possibly be more astoundingly bad-slash-good than “Police Me”? Oh, but here’s the best part—there are original songs. Pretend I just whispered that in your ear. You can’t yell shit like that aloud. This is sensitive information. Nobody else can know about new, sure-to-be-classics like “Jeanette, Isabella” and “Pink and Glitter.”

Okay, I kid, but will I buying this? Haha, no. Until I hear samples, this is barred from my Valhalla-sized “Stuff to buy” list. Even if it has been “40 years in the making.”

Also, you may have noticed that, as of late, I’ve been adding little blocks of interesting links to the bottom of each news post. Occasionally I may expand one of those links into a short blurb. This is one of those occasions. Also, I should be watching The Office on [adult swim] right now. But I needs some sleep.

Read this: “Rape Fantasies” by Margaret Atwood
(Read at Scribd ) A grim yet entirely intriguing title, isn’t it? In this (very) short story, Atwood uses her typically hyper-caustic wit and humor to cut swaths across a recurring fantasy for modern females. You’ll laugh, but you’ll also ponder what Atwood is trying to say about the nature of gender and communication.

Mp3: “Fire Ant” by Space Ghost (sort of)
Next album review: The Phoenix Demos by Kate Bush (Tomorrow)

Watch this: Music video for “Lily” by Kate Bush (YT)
Daily bargain: Moderat by Moderat ($5.49 at Lala)
Cool beans: "Matthew’s non theme based fancy dress party" (via 27b/6)
Sign of the endtimes: Guiding Light ends

Rah rah rah, go team.

Okay, the title of this post isn’t accurate or anything. Running isn’t fun. It’s painful and a little bit satisfying but it’s most primal and raw and it makes me even more existential than I usually am. But since I managed to lop about three-and-a-half minutes off my time at a meet yesterday, I decided to include with this post a nice little image of Ra Ra Riot. Nobody smiles like that at the finish line, and I haven’t heard anything from this band beyond a decent cover of Kate Bush’s “Suspended in Gaffa.” You can watch their version at YouTube, and if you’re more into indie rock kids than you are Kate Bush’s middle-aged, neo-Victorian theatricality, then you’ll enjoy it.

So, why am I posting today? Wednesdays are supposed to be holy days of non-posts. Well, I was busy last night. And I felt like posting something here, especially after my classmates (and even my teacher, geesh) were like, “OH MY GOD, YOU NEED TO GET A FACEBOOK. WE’LL HELP YOU GET ONE.”

Huh. So, in the news. It’s okay that a young woman was murdered and that more people are concerned over Taylor Swift. Totally fine. Do I need to put sarcasm tags here? Kanye West is an ass. This is news? Of course, it’s understandable that people gravitate towards celebrities. Unimportant drama is a lot easier to digest than the realization that are very sick people in the world. On the same note, though, people should not be getting all fussed about President Obama’s comment towards Kanye. It was an off-the-record remark—and a totally warranted, correct one at that. The President does not need to be discussing ‘srs bizness’ all of the time, just as we regular folks should not ignore the dark and the real in place of glitzy, ridiculously dressed celebs 24/7.

Well, those are my thoughts for the day. Depressing, pointless, and boring as always, huh? And it’d be nice if you keep Annie Le in mind this week.

Mp3: “Tangent” by Beth Orton
Next album review: The Phoenix Demos by Kate Bush

Read this: “Heat” by H.D.
Watch this: “Hitler Finds out About Kanye West” by icepackz (Nws) (YT)

Daily bargain: Break Up by Pete Yorn & Scarlett Johansson ($2.99 at Amazon Mp3)
Cool beans: Photobooth.net (an online directory of old-fashioned photobooths)
Sign of the endtimes: Drunk mom fondled on flight

Luanne is upset because The Cleveland Show is taking her time slot.

Well, folks. It’s over. After twelve years on the air, King of the Hill has died on a propane-fueled funeral pyre. Its series finale—an episode in which Bobby joins a ‘meat knowledge’ team—aired last night, and it was odd watching the episode knowing that once the half-hour was up—that was it. I was duly mocked by my colleagues for missing the Kanye drama at the VMAs, but it was worth missing for a fine finale to a consistently decent show.

The Simpsons, over the course of 21 seasons, have dipped in-and-out of quality. KOTH, however, rarely deviated from its path. There were episodes that were purely fantastic—such as the season one story in which Hank, Peggy, and Bobby all become addicted to cigarettes—and others that were simply watchable. Throughout its career, KOTH examined a small subculture, but it was one of critical import. What does its cancellation say about American tastes in television? Were we just tired of the shtick, or are we no longer interested in the modernist day-to-day drama? Whatever the reason, there were thirteen frigging seasons of this show. I don’t think we have to worry about running out of episodes to watch. Regardless, there weren’t any shows quite like King of the Hill. The Goode Family failed, and any future efforts to replicate its social commentary and strikingly human comedy won’t quite succeed as it did.

Goodnight, sweet propane prince.

Mp3: “Oh What A Beautiful Morning” by Peggy Lee

Her only complaint: The bacon wasn't crispy
enough. Damn Oscar Mayer.

Oops! I missed my scheduled posts for Friday night. I ended up falling asleep at seven and I woke up at seven this morning. Hey, it takes a lot of sleep to bring you folks this much fantastic content. Or not.

Yesterday, the world’s oldest person—115-year-old Gertrude Baines—died. I’ve been following the ‘World’s Oldest’ chain since about 2007, and it’s something that I find just fascinating. There are weeks when you feel like the past seven days have been the most eventful of your life, and then you realize that one week is a pretty small unit of living. So, imagine someone who’s lived for over a hundred years—Baines was born in 1894. Her grandparents were slaves. She voted for President Obama, saying he’s “for the colored people.” The only other time she voted was for JFK. It’s majestic to live so long, but at the same time it’s a little frightening. I know I don’t want to much further past 65 or 70, because as far as I see it, why would I want to? But for those people who do live beyond 100, all I can think of is the variety of experiences they’ve had. A minute can transform your entire day, an hour your entire life. Just imagine living 115 years and experiencing thousands upon thousands of moments like that. Maybe I can’t explain it. I just find it stunning that anybody can do that much living.

Well, there’s my musing for the day. It’s raining today, so you can expect a few extra posts, maybe even the Friday Mp3 I missed yesterday. Otherwise, I’ll just be staying inside, wearing a sweater, eating soup, and contemplating whether or not I should order some Sylvia Plath oven mitts.

Mp3: “Kid For Today” by Boards Of Canada
Next album review: The Phoenix Demos by Kate Bush
Daily Bargain: Vivaldi’s Four Seasons performed by Izthak Perlman ($1.99 at Amazon Mp3)
Cool beans: CNN headline t-shirts
Sign of the Endtimes: Stephenie Meyer 'origin' comic book to be released (via Jezebel)

Hey, I calls em as I sees em.

I’m sure other people have noticed this, but isn’t every episode of Rugrats the same episode? Babies go on an adventure, Angelica is jealous and bitchy towards them, she tries to get them caught, she’s foiled and the babies are back in their pen. Nostalgia wise, it’s a fine show, but really—did we need one-hundred plus episodes of whatever the hell Didi Pickles was supposed to be? (For fun: Go to around 2:50 in this episode and note Didi’s incorrect prediction that disco would never return. Fucking Hercules and Love Affair.) While I hate to change my opinion from three lines up, my reviewing of these episodes makes me think they aren’t so bad. It’s basically Home Movies, except with babies and more poop humor. Pick your poison.

Other great moments in the ‘Garage Sale’ episode: Andrew Bird shopping at 0:26, Angelica being a conniving succubus at 2:00, “CHUCKY!” at 3:50, and lessons for da recession at 4:25.

See what happens when I try to post on a schedule? I post crap like this.

So what’s out today in music? Sondre Lerche’s new record is out, but at a steep $10 for the Mp3 album I don’t think I’ll be getting it anytime soon (you did listen to Didi Pickle’s recession speech as mentioned above, didn’t you?). You can also pick up A Fine Frenzy’s new album for $3.99 at Lala (don’t expect too much). Amie Street has some interesting bargains in Yo La Tengo and Nudge.

Well, that’s it. I got my post in for the day. They’ll be better once I get used to the daily schedule.

And, Christ, wasn’t this episode just gorgeous?

Mp3: “Good Luck” by Sondre Lerche (from Heartbeat Radio) (Alt. link)

Hounds of Love by Kate Bush
1985, EMI, 12 tracks at 47 min.
Listen Buy CD Sample

RATING: 5 out of 5

A year ago, my psychology teacher lent me this album. “If you like Suzanne Vega,” he said, “You’ll like this.” Well, he was right. Sort of. But he was also sort of wrong, because Hounds of Love blows out of the water every fucking New York poetry corner ditty that Ms. Vega has ever penned (I can still dance to “Solitude Standing” and dream of being Marcel Proust, but that’s another story).

I repeatedly thanked him for introducing me to the album. He was like, “Uh, ok,” because, really, how queer am I that I raved about Kate Bush from late September to early November? I even said at one point, “Wow, almost as good as Björk’s albums.” Absolutely wrong, year-ago-me. This is the best (art) pop album in existence. Mike Love can go on singing about whatever the hell it is fifty-year old beach boys sing about, Madonna can keep scrubbing the stains off her latex bodices, and Björk can stand there helplessly, trying to help the Icelandic economy by singing songs about nature with Brian Chippendale on drums. As far as I’m concerned, these artists—or any pop artist for that matter—will never top this album. I’m biased, for once, yes. Can you believe it? Of course you can. But HAVE YOU HEARD THIS THING?

The first half is supposedly the more ‘pop’ of the two, which is total bullshit since “The Morning Fog” is pop in its purest form—charged, bubbly in an unexpected anachronistic way, and just swelling with optimism. “Watching You Without Me” carries the air of an orientalism so pungent that Edward Said would crinkle his nose, even though the result is more precocious than pretentious. “Waking the Witch” is both anti-Puritan (what other popular songwriters still care about Separatists in the 20th-century?) and akin to something out of an arcade game. “Under Ice”, admittedly, is pop only in an artsy sense, and no one listening to all the Gregorian chanting on “Hello Earth” has ever touched a Cathy Dennis record in their lifetime.

And then there’s “Cloudbusting.” Jesus. Really, Jesus Christ. Have violins ever been so robust yet restrained? Have strings ever been put to such good use on a pop song? Combined with the drum machine and Bush’s vocals—ones that fall below her limits, but full exercise of her range does not seem the goal here—“Cloudbusting” is the perfect art pop song: a length that’s just a tad long, an element of ‘unexpectedness’, and a marriage of synth and baroque elements so striking and streamlined that only the finest eloquence is communicated.

Then there’s theatricality here, but not glitz. Glitz is for Gary Glitter and Duchess Gaga, not Kate Bush. All she needs to be incredibly cool is a pair of dogs nuzzling her chest just ever-so-slightly. Oh, and a loose, purple gown. An essential, clearly.

Listen to this. Then, listen to it again. And again. Listen to it until you think your head is going to combust in a Hindenburg/Firestone tire-like blast. Just listen to it. Buy it, steal it, borrow it, whatever. If you steal it, then buy some Kate Bush posters or something. Like a lot of posters. Some classy, some sexy. Just get this album. Play it around people. Cool people will like it. Dykes will smile endearingly at the PJ Harvey-like independence. Feminists will like it. Gay dudes will like it. Straight dudes will like it. Your dad will like it. Your mom will, too. Give a copy to your psychologist. Your prostitute. Your dead grandpa. Yell out lyrics from it. “I GET OUT OF MY CAR…” Shake people on the street and tell them why “Running Up That Hill” is vastly preferable to “Wuthering Heights.”

And one day, leave a note on Ms. Vega’s doorstep telling her why you’re breaking up with her. You’ve found a new woman. Even if my psychology teacher got to her first. And he must be like a billion years old.

See, old people love this shit.

My Frogs (trying not to make a you-know-what reference)

Ahh, it’s GOOD TO BE BACK!

My self-imposed hiatus from Squid Can for the last few weeks has only left me hungry to return to my usual position of being a man of many talents—student, writer, photographer, critic, douchebag, blogger. I obviously have quite a bit to catch up, so expect this post to a bit lengthy. But this is what you’ve been waiting for, right? The return of Squid Can? Right?

Yeah, I didn’t actually think so. Regardless, you might be interested to learn of a few changes I’ve made to the site. First, there’s a new author photo. And this one is swell. I’ll be changing the author photo one or two times every month, so keep an eye out for new pics of the goofily smiling asshole who brings the Squid to your doorstep daily. Second, you might have noticed that the navigation bar is now on the right side (to make it look more ‘bloggy’) and that a calendar-styled archive has been added. This way you can find all those posts you hated three months ago and hate them over and over again—but now the hate is only a click away! Third, there’s now a weekly playlist on the navigation bar. Five songs, handpicked by me, every Saturday—how should thee count the ways I love thou?

In regards to the general direction of this site, I’m going to try and post more ‘general’ content and more film, art, and book news. I’m sick of making jokes about Animal Collective/Grizzly Bear/trendy hipster band (though all my references to Moog synthesizers will remain intact). Also, it’s the school year, so you can expect even more ‘wacky’ stories! Hey, you all love those, right? Make no mistake, all the music quasi-coverage you’ve come to love from Squid Can will still be here, but please—enough Grizzly Bear jokes. Seriously. Especially considering I haven’t utilized a single ‘Lesley Gore is a dyke’ joke in my arsenal yet.

If you’re wondering what I’ve been listening to lately (and you can always check my Last.fm), I’m on a total Kate Bush kick along with some hardcore. I was really introduced to Ms. Bush about a year ago, so Hounds of Love automatically recalls the fall for me (aside from the fact that it’s pretty autumnal on its own). I’ve also just ordered The Dreaming on account of the fact that I’ve listened to “Get Out of My House” about forty times in the past two days. Alec Empire and Atari Teenage Riot are also high on my list, and I’ve been getting into Sunny Day Real Estate and Hot Water Music again. In the way of lesser-known bands, check out Laika (spacey, dreamy, not-trip-hop pop), Sex Positions (easy-on-the-ears hardcore), Pram (not quite sure how to describe them beyond ‘experimental’), and Anjulie (slightly alternative pop on Starsbucks’ (yeah, I know) label).

Now, moving onto other oddities and stuff you likely don’t care about. My new ‘thing’ is collecting Iwako erasers, now, I guess? I bought the whale and everyone said, “Wow, cool eraser, Alex,” so in my quest for social acceptance (boo hoo, Boo Radley, etc.) I went out and bought the entire fucking panoply of Japanese erasers (see also: useless big words, dipping into fifteen-year old money, and excessive self-deprecation). Most hilarious was dropping by a hospital gift shop to purchase myself a few treats—though, in all honesty, the three mega-cute frogs I snagged were worth my time.

I’m also running cross country now, which is perfect for people with anemia and an interest in collecting Japanese erasers. And I have Netflix again. I found some great bargains at yard sales this weekend (Dorothy Parker biography for under a buck, an old poetry book, and a photo of the Italian Alps).

That’s about it. So, as you can see, my personal life is still as boring and uninteresting as it was two weeks ago. But I’m happy. And a happy Squid means good posts for y’all folks to enjoy. Speaking of which, there’ll be a review up later today—the first one on the new schedule!

Well, I have to go resist my urge to join Twitter. Happy Labor Day, here’s a free Mp3, stay spunky, et cetera et cetera.

Mp3: "Aphrodite Dear" by Sex Positions