The beautiful Esme Patterson from Denver and the man they call Shakey Graves have been playing music together recently. The duet is reminiscent of of June and John Cash and they are singing whimsical americana tunes. Shakey Graves will have a new album out this year that I cannot wait to hear and Esme will be on a few tracks. The first video below is " Dearly Departed" which is a duet of the two. There are also some older videos of Shakey and his solo tunes which will rock your world. This music is a force to be reckon with.
I used to rock this album on a tape deck in the backseat of a car when I was an angsty teenager. I love how this sounds to me now though - poppy eighties rhythms pummeled by a lethal compressed metal guitar -- combined with those whisper to scream vocals. It sounds like Trent heard some New Order and then was like "fuck that. Lets turn this up to 11." This is my second video write up including a gyroscope. I'll drink to that. Shout out to gyroscopes. Also shout out to Trent Reznor for making unhappy music for people who liked new wave but think it wasn't loud/metal sounding enough.
Today I learned that me and King Chip have something in common. I myself am partial to couches and chilling. Shout out to that weird wa-wa guitar solo at the end, that was pretty killer. Shout out to chill people. Shout out to escalators. Shout out to Cleveland. Shout out to couches. Shout out to not working. Chip if you're ever in New York and want to chill on a filthy couch email me -------->
When you're at your friend's house and it's silent and then he throws on this song after he tells you all he's totally over her. Sure, man. Johnny Marr's guitar is insane on this. The lyrics ring true, this is the human condition. This is what is so strange about Morissey though. He's got an activist persona, he's on the soapbox about being vegetarian constantly and such... when he could have done more for humans. No one is perfect but this song pretty much is perfect at describing an imperfect human in love with someone who doesn't love you back. We all know what that's like.
Oops, I guess this came out in Novermber, So I'm a bad blogger and deserve to suffer the consequences. It's ok though. Ive always liked MGMT's take on music videos. I think someone in the group may have seen M. Night Shamalans's underrated classic "The Village" recently. I love that movie too, you guys. Spoiler Alert... GYROSCOPES were a nice touch. I would be covered in vomit if i got in one of those things. I get motion sickness very easily. My mom tried to warm me when I told her I was going to sail to Bermuda with my friend Patrick (Never Home, Smelly Ghosts, Blackball Brandon) Holt. I couldn't move around the cabin without getting the spins but I have to say that when I was holding the wheel of the sailboat and steering the ship I lost all queasiness in my stomach; at that point it was just me against the ocean and I wanted to make sure we didn't get too much of a "heel" even if meant we weren't heading in a direct route to Bermuda. It's 3am, It's my way. I'm left in charge. I sucked at it. We got to Bermuda in time to see the plane that Pat's dad had booked a seat on fly away. I'm not good at sailing, but fuck it I'll do it again. It was all worth it when me and pat got to ride around bermuda dumb and dumber style on one scooter and just drop into the ocean wherever. i did it because its changed my life. I'm still not the same. If you need royalty free images of bermuda DM me... all rights unreserved.
When the dog is doggystyling the dog and her six sets of tits are shaking with the motion and the yin yang is up above and then she throws up herself into herself and then into herself again. This video is the shit. Surprise yourself.
KOOL A.D. - WORD (PROD. DJ BlesONE)
DIRECTED BY VICTOR "KOOL A.D." VAZQUEZ AND TEDDY O'CONNOR
ASSISTANT DIRECTOR JORDAN FISH
This was from a TV show filmed in 1983, but this song lives on though soft rock radio. This song is "so powerful" that Joe Cocker felt the need to spasm his arms throughout this performance for emphasis. His raspy emotional wail and the stiff singing of Jennifer Whoever make this video a "Must miss!" I hated this song and thought it was corny the first time I heard it when I was 9 and my mom made me come to supermarket with her because she didn't trust me to not cause havoc at home alone for one hour by my self. I hate it because I remember how cold supermarkets are when you're just wearing shorts in the summer. Now I hate it, because really who could ever like this. Is "love" really lifting you up to "...where the eagles fly, on a mountain high."
I just realized that embedding has been disabled for this video but if you want to check out a video that will make you rethink how stupid love songs can get...or if you need proof that culture wasn't "better back in the day" you can check out this crap below.
....but it wont be worth it. I hate this song, and I've hated this song since I was 9 years old. Fuck this song.
Alynda Lee Segarra of Puerto Rican descent hailing from NYC once said "the minute I could take the subway by myself, I headed to the Lower East Side because I knew that's where all the weirdos were, where all the punks were. I was always taking an hour subway ride out there. And that's really where I feel like I grew up because I spent so much of my time there—all of my friends were there. That's where I learned a lot about New York and about the world, really." One of the songs below is in reference to the Walt Whitman poem "I sing the body electric" a well known piece of poetic genius. Alynda is a soft spoken master of modern folk.
Houndmouth's debut album on Rough Trade came out last year and since then they have been perfecting their sound. Its that raspy, lovable, folk/country, Americana that is heartfelt and rips as well. All born and raised in Indiana they didn't start the band until a few years after high school. They parted ways but came back together to write their catchy single "Penitentiary". There are some other amazing tracks on their debut album such as "Houston Train" which features their female vocalist. I will be catching their live show at Brooklyn Bowl on June 21st and I think there are still some tickets.
My goddess has risen.
Above the clouds, she appears in my dreams as a vibration, humming softly through the ancient scandinavian forest. I've been here before, but I don't remember when. I float through the sienna trees, amber highlights as vertical veins, waning moonlight, fallen needles on the sponge floor drinking softly, generating, pulsating. I expand as the humming surrounds my being, not sure where I end and it all begins. My being follows a faint single track up, up until I see her, my goddess, standing still as stone, vibrations washing her robe with the kind of mist that rises before aurora. It is more than singing. It is more than a song. It passes through me like a silver ghost, shivers through my body, breaking it apart. She is a siren in the woods, aphrodite, centered in a circle of growth, as booms dole from the rock and resonate inside every atom. She is adolescence incarnate, old as the earth and pure as truth. Simply ethereal, transcendentally complex, in her presence the trees become ash, ash become human, human evaporate to air and back again within one breath. Roaming the curvature of the earth, lamenting the loneliness of my stagnant physical existence, tortured by memory and the longing to embody a pure vibratory atmospheric essence, I've found home in her voice. I am inside her heart. It melts and mixes with rain. We are below the clouds, floating, drifting on the surface of the dawn.
After a three year hiatus, Lykke is back with what promises to be an equally if not more emotionally raw album than Wounded Rhymes, defining a genre that is hers alone, overcoming her angst and graciously sharing it with the human population. Is she an alien? Do we have a latent cosmic power like she? I will follow her like a pilgrim, basking in her other-wordly glow, to Paris if I have to, if not the sold out show in NYC.
Queen Bey Who? Long Live Lykke Li.
This was all actually recorded in a basement. A lot of bands claim that they record in basements but they're suckers. This is a band that never made it big even though they should have. They never had a dime to their name, maybe just enough cash for some Hostess Cakes and some drugs to get them through. But luckily for us, they recorded like animals. There's more in the vault, but I think this is a good place to start. Here's an unpolished look at one of the best groups to ever do it and then not make it. The vaults have only now come open. There will be more to come after this....
and other store-bought fairytales.
Your job is monotonous. Your commute blows. That shitty food your eating is poisoning your body. Your mind's best skill is the effective delivery of anxiety peppered nicely through your veins. Work all day, ward off the world, come home and rest because you'll be doing it again tomorrow.
At least there is the the Television to beam glamour and drama straight into our generic plastic homes by way of noise and light in rhythmic waves. Turn off your mind, let the agitation melt, and run away into the world of vampires, monsters, celebrities and angels. The Nazis did it, North Koreans are doing it, and Hollywood does it too.
Hollywood's video music award ceremony is just one of the many public displays designed to validate our hero's endeavors while showcasing our nation's top talent to the world, awarding trophies for the most popular achievements in the performing arts. While some consider the show as a platform to objectify the female, make a case for sexual violence, and to expedite the desensitization of our youth under the guise of success, others find it just silly and fun.
If you were not one of the twelve million people watching the event, good for you. But there's no way any functioning member of society could escape its aftermath. Miley was everywhere from the cover of Rolling Stone wherein she gushes about Yeezus coming into into her dressing room pre-show saying "theres not a lot of artists I believe in more than you right now"*, effectively melting her stage fright away, to the mouths of little girls with tongues stuck out, hoards of drunk girls spewing the four drawn out notes that make up the core of wrecking ball , romanticizing destruction in the streets and bars of our god forsaken cities. There's no way to avoid it, and it's my opinion that we shouldn't.
|God of War and End Times, Kali. Miley performing at 2013 VMAs. Notice the pink bear in hypnotic trance.|
Rebellion, sexual provocation and abolishing traditional gender roles is nothing new in pop music. Kabballah priestess Madonna, MJ, punk, grunge, even saucy mo-town tunes can give way to a 'fuck it' feeling in order to achieve freedom from 'the man'- and sometimes these mantras do effectively shake the system for societal benefit. Rebellion is perfectly fine, as long as we can clarify what it is we are rebelling against (something I need reminded of often myself). It could be argued that the musicians who were actually and effectively going against the tyrannical system were doing so to preach love in times of hate, and those who did so successfully did not live long. Unfortunately more often then not, being against the world means being against your fellow woman and man, increasing feelings of separateness, isolation, confusion and anger, and eventually, abolishing aversion to war. Miley's way of continually showcasing the popular Y.O.L.O 'tude doesn't come from her own creative intuition: as evident in the above comparison, it is debatable that a full time celebrity figure since infancy probably doesn't have a ton of free time to study nuanced mythological signifiers. (but these guys do).
I have no problem with creation, innovation, expression, and good old fashioned freedom of speech-- even if the terrorists hate us for those freedoms! What I do have a problem with is the confused ideas mixed up and muddled for digestion by a increasingly illiterate public, case and point knowing who these self described terrorists actually are. I only care because I have to interact with regular people on a regular basis. Some who gobble up this shit then ask for more compose their sentences with a logic that subversively supports the constructs of a contradictory nature. I have a problem with the amount of time it takes to watch these shows-- time that could have been spent developing our own experiments, inventions, and creations that could very well lead to actual progression. I have a problem because I have nieces that I watch adore these figurines that are so artificially made. I have a problem because I know that true artistic talent and individualistic expression exists in everyone, but The Hand Enslaving You aka They don't tell you these things in school or on TV.
Many of the people who do spend their free time free thinking have developed free energy systems that could, very possibly, release the population from oil-induced bondage, but are systematically turned down or ignored at the US patent office. It's high time to get hip with what the petroleum overlords know: that our world is crafted out of collective consciousness. A true American work ethic that may lead to innovation is not the goal, for our nation's current success relies on the control of attention, purposefully tuned to the channel of diversion.
|It's a Party in the USA! just kidding its a a naive youth expressing her blessed freedom inside a cage. Weeee!|
|Cant Be Tamed video : Contrary to the title, Ms. Cyrus is, in fact, tamed and kept in a cage|
The beaming of these pop stars into our vision happens whether we ask for it or not, and the things they do are not left up to chance or the specimen's creative vision. They are just vessels of a human body that are nice to look at: faces you see while you wait in lines at the store, as you walk down the street, and when you search for other indie tunes on Spotify. Miley's adolescent face is on nearly every product imaginable: toys, clothes, toiletries, lunch boxes, hair brushes, bed sheets, towels, cereal, socks, and even canned goods cannot escape being hannah-montanized, and the young girls who buy into that seemingly innocent character now look to her in hopes of learning what it must mean to be a proper pretty lady. Her marketing team is truly incredible, as is the distribution system of such "goods".
|Sing little birdies! No science books for you!|
|Critical perception is a learned skill that most five to 15 year olds haven't quite honed. Once their frontal lobes start actually developing they are shipped to places where learning is as encouraged as group think in massive lecture halls, merging personal emotions with certain team affiliations, coupled with mind dulling heavy drinking that is socially accepted as normal. Drugs that enhance the mind are discouraged, and individuality is stamped out, paving the way for learning to come in only as tool to teach specific tasks for the workforce: just enough skill to become a proper citizen and not enough to understand what sort of underlying architecture shapes our reality. Instead, educated collegiate ladies express themselves as follows. The ultimate goal is to get a man, right?|
Not all educational development starts out bad- some caring optimistic souls study things to make the world a better place. For example, studying the brain, or "the next frontier", is a noble act. When one is successful in their field they might even investigate something important, funded by our benevolent petrol overlords, and may even get published in one of the many media outlets they too own. In the lucrative and highly esteemed fields of medicine and psychiatry I often wonder why so many brilliant people end up "committing suicide"- maybe because many tiresome years of being beaten into submission while pushing drugs leaves one feeling empty inside? Or because they can make death happen easily? I know, I know, it doesn't actually matter. Just let it go, move along, accept what is.
A popular icon who has exemplified what it means to "let it go" after a period of rage she was feeling about being manipulated and controlled her whole life is America's true darling, Britney Spears. She's regained her femininity and has dropped (from space) her eighth studio album titled"Alien", the first track of the same title:
Lost in the world out of me myself and I
Was lonely then like an alien
I tried but I never figured it out
Why I always felt like a stranger in a crowd
Ooh that was then like an alien
Is poor Britney trying to tell us something? Maybe that she was and still is being used as a a pawn for the larger coughreptiliancough agenda? No way, that's pretty weird. Instead, the song's theme must align with typical girlish concerns of either rebellion or love, and in this case the song is about a heart breaking breakup with a boy. *gag*. Just like every other fucky Disney princess narrative from our childhood, we learn nothing new about the possibilities of womanly existence. If your not into the play-a-victim-and-let-them-fuck-you approach, your other option is to exercise womanly power by fucking them first and dressing appropriately fashionable as you do. But whatever, right? Let's just not think too much about and get back in the trance with this "amazing and really cool" new song's chorus:
not alone not alone not alone
not alone not alone not alone
not alone not alone not alone
not alone not alone not alone
not alone not alone not alone
not alone not alone not alone
not alone not alone not alone
Britney isn't trying to tell us a god damn thing because she doesn't know what her songs are about because she doesn't come up with them in the first place. William Orbit produced these and others including Madonna's Ray of Light (from a space craft) and Chris Brown's Don't Wake Me Up (cause then I'll know I'm being controlled by reptilians) albums. If Mr. Orbit's last name doesn't give him away, other stealthy tweets and comments by celebs might…like, even will.i.am can tell this guy is an alien! L.O.L. *wink*.
In his spare time Orbit enjoys terrifying cats, playing with lighters, hanging with presidents, and making avant-garde performance art pieces with foreign earthly materials like this snowball placed in silly situations.
|Here is William Orbit (his earth name) strangling a cat.|
|Here is Willy with Billy. Are those even his real eyes?|
|Here is William transfixed with the another popular earthen material: fire.|
That's about all the proof I need to determine how pop culture is so easily laced with alien goo, but some people need more convincing. I doubt that person is you, flockalone fan, but even so you should check this video of Katy Perry in E.T., set in a glamorous, post-apocolyptic world. As she falls through space (fallen angel metaphors abound) she coos to Yeezus about how she wants to be abducted, corrupted, probed, infected, poisoned, and victimized by him. She can't really tell if he is an angel or a devil, but I mean, she really doesn't care because I think all he's tryinta do is "bathe his ape in her milky way", whatever that means. I can't even make this up if I tried. Maybe what they're really trying to do is make to make the next moon child to more effectively rule the pop media world? Doubt it! Blue Ivy is already all over that shit.
Either way, its best to not think too hard about whats happening and let the tune get lodged in an agonizing loop forever... until another one comes along (like this song, which is still as addicting as crack, which I would know, just kidding I wouldn't know cause crack is whack but psilocybin is pretty cool). If you disagree with the fact that drugs are bad and pop music is good, the CIA will kill you and send this guy to tell everyone you were taking too many psychotropics, so play it cool homie.
I'm not saying that extra-terrestrials are the problem. I am saying that the offshoot breed of shape-shifting-blood-drinking-demon-worshipping-mind-controlling-pedophiliac-ritualistic-humanoid-illuminati-sorcerers certainly are, and there's no reason to fear them because they are already here. Get your gross dicks outta my cake, you scaly shape shifters! Other than that, I'm cool with E.Ts.
|Conditioning: Phase 1. She's got him…with sex!|
After we realize how perception is energy, and perception/consciousness has the power to shape our realities, we find that we are NOT separate, but all connected, and that violence towards others is violence towards ourselves. After we wake up and look to the organic infrastructures in nature, we can commence on the magical journey to find real peace, love, and freedom. Sure, the lion eats the antelope, but who's to say the antelope doesn't come back as a lion? Forget anxiety, fear and guilt as there is absolutely no reason for it. Plant something, love someone, imagine, feel the goodness of the earth, and let love bathe over your tired, forgotten soul.
Also, what's with Y.O.L.O.? How does anyone know we only live once? More on that another time.
*Rolling Stone : October 10 2013, issue 1193. Good Golly Miss Miley, by Josh Eells, pg 43.
* The opinions discussed above are those of Cash Monet and do not reflect the majority opinion of FlockAlone board members, trustees and affiliates.
Too short at three songs, this EP is a statement of purpose I suppose. Ghostly sounds appear; women faint at their live shows as if they're hearing a humble and transforming sermon. There's a very good reason for that. They're actually listening to ghosts. All members of The Argentine are currently long dead.
There's a following to this band which materialize when they play. The room becomes cold, and lights flicker. It's scary, it's beautiful, and it's electric. At their live shows, the living are transfixed as the air moves from the speakers. It's fitting that this would happen, and now it can happen in your own home. Dead Waltz No. 1 -Their second release, builds upon the foundation of their first release with definitive aural intonations and brilliant crushing crescendos.
-REVEREND ALLEN MITCHELL
All Saints Church, Brooklyn, NY
I really love this song and video, you guys. But it's not that chill, and certainly not for everyone!
Prepare to to feel an acute anxiety as you realize that everything you ever knew about reality was a complete lie. The sadness you feel when you look into the darkness alone with your thoughts is completely real. Your parents knew this and cruelly brought you into this world to feel the pain and emptiness you now know. There is no love and compassion in this world. Your worst recurring nightmare in which you scream for help but can't make a noise, is in a way completely true. There is no one to save you from the darkness, from the emptiness that lies deep within the human condition. You now know what you must do.
Incredibly not safe for work in the absolutely best way possible. This video got it right. Those special effects are so good and so current. The message behind this video is sweet, and life affirming. Enjoy!
Now that I have your attention, Brooklyn-based band TV on the Radio has dropped a new single after being relatively quiet for the last couple of years. It's pretty good and I've added it to my monthly playlist on Spotify, which I've quietly been doing for the last year or so, on and off. I should be doing it much more now that I have more time on my hands after moving across the country to the land of rain and grunge.
It sounds like they've been listening to the Silent Alarm album by Bloc Party for the last couple of months (and really, who can blame them?).
The single can be found here:
or listen here:
If you haven't listened to Silent Alarm, you should go do so immediately. It's the perfect album for crushing bud lights before hitting Union Pool or the Woods.
Also, if you don't have Spotify, you are really not going to like reading any future posts from me. Try it out, its free if you let it run ads. (No one downloads music anymore, man).
If you're a musician and you don't end your concert yodeling about how much you love your girlfriend while she's on your shoulders then you either don't really love her, or know how to be a showman.