After Constantines' first visit to Meh-hee-ko (which we didn't report because we have no confirmed Mexican readers), the band is presumably rushing back to North America to play to whiter audiences.
"I can't wait for their return!" exclaims a pale-skinned TMT reader. "Their music says a lot about my race and the complex history from which I was born into."
The band starts up the tour tomorrow in Waterloo, supporting its latest full-length, Kensington Heights (TMT Review), perhaps one of the "whitest" permutations of rock released since Eric Clapton's The Road to Escondido. Their most recent evidence of whiteness can be heard on the B-side of Constantines' third 7-inch single, "Our Age": a cover of Neil Young's "Fuckin' Up."
Although the touring combination of M83 and The Killers may seem a bit odd to fans of Anthony Gonzalez’s atmospheric soundscapes (maybe not so much to fans of The Killers’ ’80s rip-offs), the two bands actually have more in common than you think. For example:
- Both bands have charted on Billboard, with M83’s latest album, Saturdays =Youth (TMT Review), debuting at #1 on the Top New Artist Heatseekers Chart and The Killers charting on, uh, every Billboard chart in existence basically.
- Saturdays = Youth is also the #1 record of 2008 at Urban Outfitters (since when do they have the authority to rank albums?), and I’d venture to guess that most fans of The Killers have a few overpriced “vintage” tees and cardigans from the clothing chain.
- Rolling Stone said in their review for Saturdays = Youth that it is full of “70mm songs for John Hughes movies yet to be filmed," and (what a coincidence!) most Killers fans weren’t even in the womb yet when Uncle Buck was in theaters.
If you really want to see M83 live but don’t want to deal with the "angst" of a Killers crowd, maybe the common ground between the two bands will make you feel a bit better. Or maybe you should just wait until M83 tour by themselves again.
Ah, Sweden. You good Scandinavian people just keep cranking out the classics. Whether your tastes in the arts run more towards the Runestone (it makes a reference to Ostrogothic king Theodoric the Great! OMG!) or towards breathy female pop vocalists, Sweden has something for everything. And it has recently been revealed that Lykke Li, one of this beautiful northern nation's finest indie exports, will be embarking on a North American tour this winter in support of her debut full-length Youth Novels (TMT Review). This is great news, not only because "Little Bit" and "I'm Good, I'm Gone" are stone-cold killer jams, but also because this tour is largely above the Mason-Dixon line, and for those of us living in the wintry Midwest, any artist who goes on tours in February is basically considered some sort of entertainment-bringing demigod who must be revered and celebrated for breaking up our frost-bitten, boring, sozzled monotony.
So, cheers to you, Lykke Li, and your cold-enduring, Walpurgis Night-celebrating compatriots for bringing a little joy into the freezing desolation of middle America. And thank you for this wonderful opportunity to look up your homeland on Wikipedia in order to scrape up even the slightest of content for this story. Without your upcoming tour, I never would've learned about the delightful (and gross) summer tradition of kräftskivor or crayfish dinner parties. Tasty!
Rapper MC Breed, who became famous for his sing-along collaboration with Tupac, “Gotta Get Mine” and "Ain't No Future in Yo' Frontin,’” has died today [November 22]. He was 36.
Born Eric Breed, the Flint, Michigan rapper was found dead at a friend’s house in Ypsilanti Michigan, the Detroit News reports. His manager, Darryl Morris, confirmed his death, but the exact cause is still pending.
In September, Breed collapsed while playing basketball in his stomping ground of Atlanta, and was placed on life support for kidney failure. Friends got together to throw a benefit concert to raise money for his medical bills, but cancelled plans after his health bounced back.
Never fully reaching mainstream status, Breed rhymed proudly about the desolate town of Flint, an urban area usually masked under the wide belly of Detroit. His hit 1991 song, "Ain't No Future in Yo' Frontin'” sampled Zapp's "More Bounce to the Ounce" and the Ohio Players' "Funky Worm.” On “Gotta Get Mine” off his 1993 album The New Breed, he hooked up with a young, thirsty Tupac, and spit the famous line, “They hate to see a young nigga, come up.”
ATP New York, the festival hipsters young and old can enjoy together, is back. The 2nd annual fest is now scheduled for September 11-13, 2009 (instead of Labor Day as previously announced), taking place again at Kutshers Country Club in Monticello, New York. Although the co-curator will be announced in the coming weeks (hey, maybe it's us!), the first seven bands have already been announced:
- Friday, September 11 – Don’t Look Back/Comedy:
Dirty Three Performing Ocean Songs
Suicide Performing Suicide
David Cross – Hosting Comedy Stage
- Saturday, September 12 – Curated By ATP:
Animal Collective
Anti-Pop Consortium
Atlas Sound
Panda Bear
- Sunday, September 13 – Co-curator TBA
Tickets are $235 plus a $12 booking fee. Accommodations are available at Kutshers and the nearby Raleigh Resort and are on sale starting today. Go to the ATP website for more information.
In September 2006, Georgia native Chad Blue was shot in the groin and buttocks but unfortunately could not identity his shooter. That is, until recently, when a friend played Blue a track off of Hitting Licks For a Living, an album by aspiring rapper Rico Wright, who claimed, “Ask Chad Blue/ He knows I can shoot.” Well, first of all Rico, you shot a dude in his junk and his trunk. It’s not like you’re gonna hear from the Navy Seals about a sniping job anytime soon. Secondly, you forgot one of the cardinal rules of hip hop: “If a rhyme seems conspicuous/ Keep that shit ambiguous!”
As a result of the unintentional confession, Wright was convicted of aggravated assault. Already serving jail time for selling cocaine, Wright was sentenced to an additional 20 years of incarceration and 20 years of probation. Yikes.
So remember, kids, don’t shoot dudes in the butt, and if you do, don’t fucking rap about it! Did NWA ever name names in their songs? Hell no! Well, except for Strawberry, the Neighborhood Ho. Man, I really hope Strawberry the Neighborhood Ho turned her life around. I think of that every time I listen to “Dopeman.”
