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The Black Laser

Vinyl and Me and You and Everyone

This last weekend I officially joined the growing vinyl devolution. If you follow my Twitter, then you probably know I had been pondering the acquisition of a turntable for a little while after numerous record-shopping trips with my friend Charles. People are so excited about buying actual records these days that I couldn’t stay away from it, which I think is pretty funny. We’re seeing a backlash against the ephemeral nature of digital goods with people embracing hand-made objects, learning to repair things, the maker movement, and the resurgence of vinyl as examples. I don’t mean this in some hipster-bashing, forced-irony way either (regular readers will know that I do not endorse hipster bashing). I really think that with the proliferation of intangible digital goods people yearn to have something physical to hold on to, to touch, to embrace. Vinyl is fulfilling that need in people while also giving you some bitchin’ jams to listen to. Sure, it’s awesome to have 80 billion songs in your iPod, but there’s something much more engrossing about actually listening to a record on vinyl, cd, tape, 8-track, wax cylinder, whatever—a sentiment previously expressed by Señor Vestal.

As I may have noted here before, music really changed for me when I stopped driving. In California, I would drive all over the place, as people do all the while listening to CDs and casettes. The duration of the drives and my desire not to get into an accident while changing the music created a near optimal album-listening environment. There exists a divide between the music I listened to in the 90s while living in California, and the music I have discovered since I moved to NY in 2001. I have a better sense of the older music as a whole, as an album, if that makes sense. The songs on those older records exist as parts of a greater whole not just because I’ve been listening to them longer, but because I would experience the albums as a unit. Music since the file-based shift exists as disassociated tracks, rarely incorporated into large album groups in my musical awareness. Splintered, fractured, split, current musical acquisitions float by rarely anchored. I find that disappointing. There’s a reason your favorite musician put those tracks in that order on the album. I want to be privy to that reason.

But back to the actual purchasing of vinyl. Going around with Charles, it seemed like such a fun thing that I was missing out on for no good reason. I have always loved record shops and the act of searching for records is sometimes more fun than owning them. There is something unmistakeable about browsing through bins of music, hunting for hidden gems and surprises, never quite sure what you’re going to find. You never get that experience online. It’s too streamlined, too inorganic. But flipping through albums in the store is exciting and fun. And if you’re going to be buying music rather than just pirating it from the old interwebs, then you might as well be getting your music on vinyl. CDs kind of suck and I still refuse to buy MP3s, so where should I go? Vinyl!

But what’s a turntable without records to play? A paperweight. So what did I get? With the purchase of the turntable at Permanent Records in Greenpoint, I got three albums.

The Viking of Sixth Avenue – Moondog 2004

Permanent Records has a Moondog section. Let me repeat that: Permanent Records has a MOONDOG SECTION. It’s like they were all, “Joe, you will be buying this. We love you. We have always loved you,” and then they swallowed my soul and brought me back from the dead as a ghastly beast with a thirst for human flesh.

If you are unfamiliar with Moondog (and you shouldn’t be), then you should know that he was an avant-garde street musician in the mid-20th Century who would perform his music on self-made instruments. He was a mad genius with some whacky social ideas who nevertheless created some of the most interesting, most recognizable music of the last century. You’ve probably heard his music around but never known. For example, this piece.

Right? You’ve heard it somewhere mixed into something before.

The album is incredible. You should listen to this right now. You will not be upset by it.

Exotica – Martin Denny 1958

Martin Denny’s 1957 album Exotica is, arguably, the album that launched the whole Exotica craze in the US in the late 50s and early 60s. It certainly gave the movement a name and laid the groundwork for a highly polarizing moment in musical history. I am quite a huge Exotica fan, having been introduced to it in college by my dear friend Jesse. So the prospect of owning this record (for a mere 7 dollars!) was irresistible.

One note, I got the 1958 stereo-rerecording without Arthur Lyman who had left Denny’s band to strike out on his own swath of Exotica creation. Though Denny preferred the original monaural recording, I like the stereo a lot. Stereo was still fresh in the recording engineer’s bag of tricks and they really go out of their way to play with stereo placement which, when pumped through a 5.1 surround system like mine, sounds pretty damned amazing. There are birds all over the place.

Odessey & Oracle – The Zombies 1968

Odessey & Oracle stands next to The Kinks’ Village Green Preservation Society as one of my favorite late-60s British rock albums. Every track is excellent. It was a must-own for me. I’ve purchased this album before as a double-disc CD with a bunch of alternate mixes and demo versions, but when considering which records to get initially I just sort of felt like I needed to have it in my house.

Nina also walked away from Permanent Records with a 1 dollar Village People record so she could listen to their song called “Roommate”. It was worth her dollar, no doubt.

Then on Wednesday after brunching with Nina at 5 Leaves, we had some time to kill before Cut Copy and wandered down to Sound Fix in Williamsburg to liberate myself of yet more cash. Here’s what I walked away with.

Noble Beast – Andrew Bird 2009

What can I say about this album? Most of my most regularly listened to music on my iPod has playcounts in the low teens, but this one is in the high 60s which doesn’t include the number of times I’ve listened to it at home. If you could wear out MP3s, I’d have worn out my MP3s of Noble Beast. It was a natural choice for the home vinyl collection and worth every dollar I’ve spent on it both times. This album is definitely one of my newer acquisitions that has found a root in my brain as a complete unit. If you’ve never heard Andrew Bird before, you owe it to yourself to get a copy of this one.

In the Aeroplane Over the Sea & On Avery Island – Neutral Milk Hotel 1998, 1996

I had never actually purchased either of these albums before and I felt like it was the right thing to do. Also, In The Aeroplane Over the Sea is stupidly awesome. Like, forget it, get the hell out, you’re done amazing. It was a late-90s gem that slipped past me at the time. I was only introduced to it by my brother Charlie in the mid-Aughts and was mad I’d been missing out on it for so long. A great sing-along record. Everyone should own a copy.

I bought On Avery Island because it was there even though I consider it a lesser album. Really, I guess it’s my small way of encouraging Jeff Magnum to continue doing shows because I would love to see this music played live.

Ask Forgiveness – Bonnie “Prince” Billy 2007

I bought this record for one reason: his cover of Danzig’s Am I Demon. That’s it. Well worth the price. The rest of the EP is good too, but for me Am I Demon is the star of the 8-song show.

Streetcleaner – Godflesh 1989

And sooooooo I took a turn for the heavy.

Godflesh is Justin Broadrick’s industrial project and one of the first groups to really incorporate electronic elements with crushingly heavy music. He even played drums for Napalm Death on Scum which basically makes him Grindcore royalty (if such a thing exists). I’ve never really gotten into Godflesh that much before, but when I saw this I knew I needed to take it home with me. I’d seen the “Crush My Soul” video on the old Earache My Eye tape, but never really delved too deeply into their work as a teenager. Yet, now, here I am with a much greater love of electronic music, a heavier palette, and purchasing old LPs. It seemed perfect to take home an industrial record from 1989. I’ve given it a listem and I was totally right. It’s tight, heavy, and crushing. For a fan of old school electro and old school metal, this is the perfect synthesis of the two.

Fortress – Protest The Hero 2008

I have to admit that this isn’t exactly what I wanted, but I will qualify that by saying that this is one of my favorite metal records of the last decade. No, it is not that I didn’t want to own this particular album—I did and I do—but what I really wanted was a copy of their newest album Scurrilous which just came out at the end of March. Unfortunately there is no way to get it on vinyl so I am stuck with the shitty MP3s Charlie sent me until I can get it. Bummer. Nevertheless, Fortess slays and I am glad to have it in my collection.

So there we are. That is my initial round of vinyl purchases. Will the addition of a turntable make me stop buying CDs? Probably not, but I haven’t really been buying a lot of CDs the last year and a half anyway, so it is not likely to affect something I’ve already slowed down on. Will this become a cash sink into which I throw all of my expendable income? You bet your sweet ass it will. I am enjoying it immensely already and had to fight not to order Computerwelt from the German eBay today. Keep coming back and I’ll keep posting my acquisitions as I acquire them. I hope it will be as fun for you and it is for me.

Creative Projects-March: Oops, or, Hiatus Ain’t Got Me Down.

Soooo March wasn’t the most creative month on record for me. I got started on The William Blake Dance Party Extravaganza, but have yet to finish anything. April, I’m look at you for that. I am also reconsidering the direction of that project to maybe be a survey of a bunch of poets (Rime of the Ancient Mariner anyone?) rather than just William Blake. Or maybe I won’t do that. I don’t know. I’m crazy like that. April will be a good month for that work.

Otherwise, nothing much happened in March. I worked a lot, which is always good, but not a whole lot of creative work. On the slim side there.

However, I was quite successful in my pursuit of my secondary goal of slowing my roll. I spent 29 days on hiatus which both saved me money and helped me feel better. Instead of spending all the money I didn’t have in March at the bar, I got out without incurring some stupid credit card bill. More power to me.

Anyway, the update for March is tiny because I don’t have a whole lot to say. Looking forward to a productive, (in)sane April without too much weirdo emotional feedback and bullshit. Love you all.

An Introduction to Grindcore, by my brother.

Over at his blog Ludovico Presents, my brother Charlie has given a small primer on the lovely music style called Grindcore. If you’re not familiar, Charlie describes it like this:

Grindcore is a type of heavy metal that is characterized by blast beats, fast guitars, and short songs (most of the time). If you shorten a death metal song from 3:00 to :30 and as the song shortens, the intensity increases, that is Grindcore. Does that make sense? Who knows. Anyway, if you’re looking to get into some Grindcore check out my little mix. Here is a sample song.

I might also add a couple things. First, Grindcore has its roots in the punk scene—hardcore most notably—whereas Death Metal comes from a pure rock and roll background. Second, Grindcore’s focus is intensity and brutality at the expense of technicality (usually), a pure wall of rage approach. Conversely, Death Metal’s focus (modern Death Metal, anyway) is technicality to achieve brutality.

Anyway, pop on over to his site and download a sampler pack he’s provided for those both in and out of the know.

Salad: Fucking Your Mouth With A Knife Since The Beginning of Agriculture.

Over the last couple months, my friend Lindsey and I have been coming up with taglines for salad, a meal we both find wholly dissatisfying. It all began one afternoon when she was complaining about her lunch of salad and came up with “salad. never satisfying,” to which I countered, “Salad. Meh.” Some other favorites have included, “Salad. Tossing it is the only enjoyable part” (her), “Salad. Abandon all hope ye who enter here” (me), “Salad. It doesnt count if you put fried chicken, bacon and ranch on it and claim to have a satisfying salad” (her), “Salad: The food equivalent of a Ke$ha song” (me), and so on and so forth.

You get the idea. We must have at least a hundred million billion of them at this point.

During my internet travels, I stumbled across a posting on The Hairpin which was entirely women eating salad and laughing. What the fuck. Upon sending it to her, I started giving each photo a tagline and they made me laugh enough that I wanted to share with you.

1. Salad: Cucumbers Help Me Shit.
2. Salad: Makes My Period White Like My Clothes.
3. Salad: Only Water For Me Because I'm a Mean Drunk.
4. Salad: Only Fruit for Black People? Racist As Fuck.
5. Salad: I Hate Myself.
6. Salad: There Aren't Leaves Where I Come From In The Middle East.
7. Salad: What The Fuck Are These Red Things?
8. Salad: This Is The Face I Made When My Parents Were Killed.
9. Salad: I Lie To Myself That I Enjoy It.
10. Salad: Surprise! Your Lunch FUCKING SUCKS.
11. Salad: As Bland And Unfulfilling As The Rest Of My Miserable Life.
12. Salad: Fuck Me, This Shit Sucks.
13. Salad: Feels Like Broken Glass In My Guts.
14. Salad: You'll Never Actually Eat It By The Ocean.
15. Salad: Tastes Like The Bird Shit I'm Pretty Sure Just Dropped In It.
16. Salad: Iceberg? Are You Fucking Kidding Me? Could It Be Any Worse?

Fuck you, salad.

First Exit To Brooklyn

My friend Erik recently started a new music blog called First Exit to Brooklyn where he posts a song a day 5 days a week to share his love for music with friends and strangers alike. Here’s what he has to say about it.

i’ve loved music for as long as I can remember…so many memories associated with sitting in the back of my parents car, 70’s fm radio playing, my transistor radio, buying a new 45 rpm, watching mtv, going to shows, exchanging mix tapes, going out to bars or clubs, on to mix cds, and currently enjoyed with my mp3 player on random. there’s something about the single; be it popular with the masses, a college radio hit or a deep track. a lot of the appeal, to me, has to do with not knowing what’s coming next. don’t get me wrong, i love to listen to albums straight through as well, but i tend to do that when i am more focused in, and can give the experience more of my attention. it’s just simpler with a single, i can multi-task and still enjoy the music. it can be the hook, the beat, the riff, the baseline, or the chorus, in most cases it’s the combination of all of them coming together that reels me in. over the course of my life, i’ve come to love many songs in many different genres. some of them i’ve enjoyed since i was a child, some were around during my teen years, so many of my memories involve music and I still look forward to discovering music (new and old) every day. that is what I would like to share here…my love for these songs.

Go check it out and listen to some tunes and be inspired. If you’re a Tumblr user (and who isn’t these days?) follow the dude.

A Letter to Gravy Regarding its Deliciousness

Dearest Gravy,

Have I told you recently how much I love you? I would hate to think that you are walking through this world with no conception of how deeply I feel for you. You are the meat juice light of my life and I have yet to encounter a meal which could not be made better by your presence. For example, while eating chicken & waffles this morning with Tita Sue, I was delivered the requisite fried chicken and waffles but you were strangely absent. My heart nearly broke there this morning at Pies & Thighs as I consider you in combination with maple syrup to be an essential element of a satisfying chicken & waffles experience.

Fortunately, I know how to bring you into my life directly. After roasting my delightful little chicken in my cast iron skillet with a rub of salt, white pepper, garlic powder, onion powder, and black pepper, I was left with what people affectionately refer to as “drippings,” i.e., the cooked off fat and love. Sensible (read: stupid) people would just dispose of this wonderful collected juice, but those of us who understand the value of fat and cooked on bits of chicken know the best thing to do: make gravy. A bit of chicken stock and a smidge of flour and whisking the burnt on bits of wonder over heat results in life’s most magnificent liquid.

While sitting at my kitchen table enjoying my dinner, the glass of you sat next to my plate and I considered taking a great big swig of it directly, but I reconsidered for two reasons. First, I would have felt very bad about myself on an emotional, if not physical, level. There’s something slightly disheartening about drinking a glass of reduced fat and chicken bits. As a sauce, I love you; as a beverage I am not so sure. Second, I would have been left with no leftover gravy to enjoy as I consume the remainder of the chicken over the next week. If there is any leftover when the chicken is gone, I will dump it into the soup I intend to make with the carcass. Waste not, want not, gravy. That’s what I always (never) say.

Growing up in an essentially gravy-less childhood was a hardship, gravy. You are gravy, so you can never understand what it’s like to grow up without you. Imagine, for my sake, what your Thanksgiving turkey would be like without the luscious brown magic you provide. Imagine, if you will, what roast beef would be like if you never kissed it with your salty grace. Imagine, for the love of God and all that is holy, what my sausage smoothie would have been like if you were not there to provide such savory redemption from the depths of bland banality. Gravy, I love you. Thank you for being so versatile and easy to prepare. You are my life.

Sincerely,

The Black Laser.

PS – I am not referring to your poor relations that come in a can. They will need to stay outside. Thanks for understanding that we just can’t allow their kind in here.

The very first piece of The Black Laser fan art.

Holy fucking shit ass. Is this not the awesomest thing ever? The answer is, “Yes, indeed, Space Pope, this is the awesomest thing ever until you tell me about the next awesomest thing ever.” Goddamned right, subject. Don’t be jelly just because I have fan art and you don’t.

The piece was done (with only minor suggestion by yours truly) by Oz Haver. Click his name to see more of his work.

This guy is tougher than you are.

Do you feel tough? Do you feel awesome? Guess what. You’re not. Aleksander Doba, in the photo above, is tougher than you could ever hope to be. Why? Let me quote.

Aleksander Doba, a 64-year-old native of Poland, took off from Dakar, capital of the west African nation of Senegal, back on Oct. 26. After 98 days, 23 hours, 42 minutes at sea, Doba and his custom 23-foot-long, 39-inch-wide human-powered kayak landed at Acaraú, a city on Brazil’s northeast coast. The trip covered some 3,320 miles in all, and Doba became only the fourth known person to accomplish such a feat, and the very first to do it nonstop.

Are you an American and utterly ignorant of geography? Let me provide a map for you.

Holy shit. This guy is so bad ass you are probably hiding under your covers right now worrying that he’s going to come after you if you drink all the vodka. Be careful. This man exists.

Read more about it here: 64-Year-Old Kayaker Completes Trans-Atlantic Voyage