Closing Time

The station's internet connection was down during my last show, so it's been a bit since I posted. I'll just have to make this one extra good, I guess. I'm doing a four hour show tonight and since I'm starting to hit a wall in my music burning project, this might be one of my last shows for the summer. I have no special attachment to waking up at 3 AM to doing this without recompenses, so this blog might end up just being about music in general rather than doing college radio in particular.

But that's the future. Let's talk about the now.

I've started raiding the station's jazz and world sections, which are kept in a large file cabinet. Not much in there of interest, though my knowledge of reggae is slim and I'm probably skipping over any number of classics without even knowing it. Did find some Jimmy Cliff, so I'm happy enough.

Time for some plugs:

Of Montreal, "Satanic Panic in the Attic."

One of the best pop albums of the last decade. It reminds me of nothing so much as a fractured version of "Pet Sounds," the same baroque rock style with a few more rough edges. It caught my attention immediately and I've only come to appreciate it more with each listen.

Fugazi, "Red Medicine."

Not the album as a whole (as much as I love the group, their albums tend to all blend together rather indistinctly), but rather the second track, "Bed for the Scraping." The song is an adrenal rush to the heart with its propulsive beat and the classic stuttering guitar line.

Elvis Costello, "North."

Not his best album by a long shot, but taken as a whole it's a fine piece of work. The songs are more pieces of a pastiche than individual songwriting moments and I find that listening to the album as a whole better than to individual tracks. A rain-soaked mood piece.

The Black Keys, "Rubber Factory."

How did I go so long without know about this duo? In my heart of hearts, I know that this is the kind of music I was meant to listen to. Grungy blues rock with stripped down rhythms and lyrics about broken relationships, pounded home with distorted, brilliant guitar riffs. I want to buy an old Chevy Nova and listen to this while driving through suburbia, hand out the window, keeping rhythm by taping on the roof of the car.