Do you have fantasies of Santa Claus finger-picking a steel guitar? Are you excited by foot-long, knotted beards? How about scarves? Appalachian folk songs? Jazz music? Songs about eating worms, palindromes, and making a cool milli?
Welcome to Baby Gramps, the purveyor and salesman of the aforementioned musical wares. Gramps, with a voice that sounds like a Swiss cheese muffler, lovingly guides audiences through a free-associating tour of American music. His origins are purposefully mysterious -- he lives in the Pacific Northwest, he’s been playing music since the ’60s, and he, uh, tours sometimes. A mixture of ecstatic singer-songwriter, unfrozen vaudevillian, raconteur great-grandfather, and hobo chic paragon, the act goes down like a glass of warm milk.
The best part is that if electricity were never invented we’d still have Baby Gramps.
Raise your Oreos:
* Devil Makes Three
$ Rogues Gallery CD concert tour
Aesop Rock to Release Instrumentals, A Capellas, and Lyrics for None Shall Pass, Carrie Bradshaw to Fictitiously Discuss This In Her Fictitious Sex Column, American Women to Blindly Accept That Writing a Sex Column Would Warrant A Budget Sizable Enough For Weird, Expensive Headwraps, Fur Shrugs, Cases of Marlboro Lights, and Enough Cosmopolitans to Kill a Lifetime of Loneliness, Intense Periods of Sexual Frustration and Realized Inadequacy
What matters more ladies? Your girl friends or love? It has been my experience that a good high-heel romp with your best gal pals can cure any bout of lovesick man drama. As in: there is nothing quite like a gal pal’s love. Gal pals are just perfect. They are sort of well-dressed and giggle coyly when I say the word “gal pal” or when I tell them about the homeless man I slept with last night. I am so wild, I cannot be tamed! (I am 30-something and unmarried and not afraid. Except very afraid.) Why does Samantha like sex so much? Why do I wear weird headwraps? These things I do not know. I do know:
(1) Love conquers all;
(2) So do cosmos!
XOXO – Carrie <3
To prepare for his big date, a young man went onto the rooftop of his apartment to work on his tan. Not wanting any tan lines, he sunbathed in the nude, but fell asleep and accidentally burned his penis.
Not wanting to miss out on his date with a hot blonde, he applied some ointment to his manhood and wrapped it in gauze. The blonde showed up at his apartment later that night, and after dinner they went into the living room and listened to all of Sunburned Hand of the Man's 18 related releases from 2008 (seriously, 18).
During the movie, the young man’s sunburn began to hurt. After several minutes of extreme discomfort, he asked to be excused.
A friend had told him that milk was very effective in reducing sunburn pain. So he went to the kitchen, poured a tall glass of cold milk, and placed his sunburned member into the milk. He experienced immediate relief.
The blonde, wondering what the young man was doing, wandered into the kitchen and found him with his shaft fully immersed in the glass of milk. With a look of understanding the blonde exclaimed, "So that’s how men re-load their things!"
And then they porked:
@ Comets on Fire
$ WHY?, Matmos
MIA Pledges to Use $100K Payday to Build New Schools, Also Pledges to Use “Building of New Schools” to Sell More Records
Man, that M.I.A. is one slippery mango pickle down river! So much so, in fact, that we here in the TMT storyboarding department aren't even sure how to go about satirizing/caricaturizing her these days.
I mean, come on, Maya! Are you a corporate shill of the Warner Music Group?? Or are you a renegade hip-hop activist??? Those cammo-pants could readily suggest either! Sighhhhh... well, TMT ended up being so confused as to how exactly to play this bit of M.I.A. news that we never really got past the ‘rough sketch’ phase this time. Not exactly our proudest moment, but P says that the music news must be told one way or another (he's kind of a megalomaniac, people)... so, for better or for worse, here's our storyboarding department's initial reactions to some of the British/Sri Lankan hip-hop goddess’s recent antics (keep in mind that this department is mostly made up of unpaid high school interns):
- M.I.A. recently announced her engagement to WMG head Edgar Bronfman's son? Boooooo. Fuck that sellout! Waste her in this story!
- Oh, Edgar Bronfman's son is actually legitimate rock guitarist Benjamin Brewer? Hey, that's kinda cool! Never mind, she's all-good! :)
- Hang on, she reportedly collected $100,000 for a performance at an MTV Movie Awards after-party in West fucking Hollywood that was sponsored by Target?? Fucking Charlatan! She's going doooooooown!
- Wait, it was also sponsored by Converse One Star? Yaaaaaaaaaay!! I loooove One Stars!!
- Oh, she only performed for 30 minutes??? Laaaaaaaaaame! She's a sellout for SURE!
- Fuck! After the performance, she jumped on top of a photo booth and told the audience that she is "going to use it to build schools in Liberia... It costs $52,000 to build a school for 1,000"??? Sooooo AWESOOOOOME!!!! M.I.A. Ruuuuules!!! She could build like two schools! Give this story a photo! She's a real activist!!! Hoooooray for M.I.A.!!!
- Oh wait a second here, she then invited women onstage to dance to "Paper Planes," including Jessica Szohr, Jessica Stroup, and Rumer Willis???? uhhh... BOOOOOOOOO!
Once I went to this party where the host had infused the fuck out of some pineapple into vodka, thereby creating the perfect storm of sweet, tropical goodness and alcoholic potential mayhem. The next day I went to see San Diego band The Locust. I had a hangover that made me feel like I had been repeatedly brained in a dark alley the night before, while small larvae simultaneously hatched and tunneled into my skull. Consequently, watching grown men in fencing masks create extremely harsh, hardcore noise punk in a small, crowded room was one of the worst aural experiences of my life.
And now that magical experience can be yours! The Locust are getting ready for a late-summer European tour, during which I would entreat you to stay away from your coworker's fruity booze experiments and get a good night's sleep beforehand, so that you can actually enjoy the abrasive rock that you're paying good, solid euros to hear.
David Gilmour to Perform “Atom Heart Mother” with Italian Pink Floyd Tribute Band… Yeah, Can’t Really Improve Upon This Headline
From the hills, the anguished cry of Roger Waters could be heard as he read this choice bit of news. Cursing his "pretty boy" arch enemy, the self-proclaimed brains behind Pink Floyd then stalked off to hire a band for his next tour -- any band, as long as they absolutely loathed that baseless "rock and roll" and were willing to have stimulating, creative onstage discourse with Waters, the kind featherhead David Gilmour would never understand. Or would he?
Ron Geesin, co-composer of "Atom Heart Mother," the sprawling six-part instrumental that comprises Side One of its 1970 namesake album, has rounded up the following people for a performance of his (co-?) masterpiece: a 10-piece brass ensemble from The Royal College Of Music, cellist Caroline Dale, 40-member chorus Canticum, and... Italian Pink Floyd tribute band Mun Floyd. There will be two performances on June 14 and 15 during the Chelsea Festival at Cadogan Hall. And on the second day, Geesin said, "Let there be David Gilmour on guitar." And there was true culture ascribed to the performance, even before Gilmour's participation was announced.
Roger Waters looked and said, "THIS IS NOT GOOD."
Q: What do you have when a lawyer is buried up to his neck in sand?
A: Not enough Giant Sand!
Ha, but seriously, folks, Tuscon's Giant Sand are set to release a new album, Provisions, on Yep Roc. (Hahah, shit, I'm still laughing about that joke! Lawyers suck!) Set for release September 2, the album "sonically explores love and loss in the socio-political climate of the modern world," according to the press release. Something tells me that this album will please anyone who's been yearning for an album that sonically explores love and loss in the socio-political climate of the modern world.
Provisions will feature guest spots from such artists like Henriette Sennenvaldt, Lucie Idlout and Lonna Kelley, as well as Neko Case, Isobell Campbell (ex-Belle & Sebastian), and M. Ward. (Wonder which set of artists you care about.) Meanwhile, the Giant Sand lineup for this release includes Howe Gelb (of course), Thøger T. Lund (bass), Peter Dombernowsky (drums), and Anders Pedersen (slide guitar).
Wait a minute, doesn't "gelb" mean "yellow" in German? Haha, Howe Yellow. Like, "Hey sir, Howe Yellow are you?" Haha!
Alright, fuck this, time to go out with a BANG:
Q: Why shouldn’t women drink beer at the beach?
A: Because they will get Giant Sand in their Busch!
The crowd is gathered in heightened anticipation. For some, this forthcoming spectacle will be their first time witnessing the carnage. Many are dressed in gear typical of a crowd going to such a show or are carrying barriers to the forthcoming barrage: raincoats, umbrellas, plastic sheeting as far as the eye can see. For those in the first three rows, you will get messy. Finally, Dawn McCarthy rides out on an oversized Big Wheel, dressed in her trademark striped shirt, rainbow suspenders, and sporting her ridiculous bald pate paired with a back mane of thinning dark curls. After a preamble of weak political jokes and dated social commentary she pulls out her "Sledge-o-Matic" and proceeds to smash everyday objects like toothpaste, computer keyboards, cartons of milk, and Big Macs. It is all fine and dandy, except the audience wants the big guns, the show-stopper, the portal to a euphoric state of being. The mob wants watermelons! Grabbing the large green citruses from behind a office table set up on the stage, McCarthy slams the big sledgehammer down on the fruit until the braying public can't take anymore and are soaked with tears of laughter, recently-freed urine (of laughter), and the green rind, pink flesh, and the black seeds of comedy.
Okay, Dawn McCarthy, the constant guiding light behind Faun Fables shares little with lame prop comic Gallagher, but there is an important visual, visceral element to her live shows. Faun Fables performances are just that: "performances" instead of mere "gigs," and they are pretty special too. We didn’t explicitly ask for it, but Faun Fables is/are back for a healthy dose of touring AND a new four-song EP, A Table Forgotten, out July 22 on Drag City, and that is your daily cause for hysteric celebration. Yes, yes, more, more more!!!
06.13.08 - Hollywood, CA - Knitting Factory
06.14.08 - Tucson, AZ - Club Congress
06.15.08 - Phoenix, AZ - Modified Arts
06.16.08 - Farmington, NM - Gator’s
06.18.08 - Oklahoma City, OK - The Conservatory
06.19.08 - Fort Worth, TX - Lola’s
06.20.08 - Austin, TX - Mohawk
06.21.08 - Houston, TX - The Mink (Backroom)
06.22.08 - San Antonio, TX - Rock Bottom Bar
06.24.08 - Kansas City, MO - The Record Bar
06.25.08 - Denver, CO - Bender’s Tavern
06.26.08 - Salt Lake City, UT - Kilby Court
07.18.08 - Sacramento, CA - Bricka Bracka
A Table Forgotten EP:
1. With Words and Cake
3. A Table Forgotten
4. Winter Sleep
Will Sheff to Reveal Part II of Concept Project Saga Thing, Kids to Overuse This Subsequent Release As a Back to School Conversation Piece and Probably Annoy Me, Me Bored With My Look and Wondering If I Should Start Wearing Penny Loafers Next Season, Oh, Yeah, Okkervil River to Tour
In an effort to give college indie kids something to banter about this September in all their back-to-school self-importance, Will Sheff (TMT Interview) has announced he will continue that concept thing he had going with the previously released, Pitchfork-hailed!!! The Stage Names.
The Stand Ins will be released September 9 on Jagjaguwar, reported to include a sequel to “Savannah Smiles” and rep Sheff doing the duet thing with now former bandmate Jonathan Meiburg on “Lost Coastlines.”
The Stand Ins:
1. The Stand Ins, One
2. Lost Coastlines
3. Singer Songwriter
4. Starry Stairs
5. Blue Tulip
6. The Stand Ins, Two
7. Pop Lie
8. On Tour With Zykos
9. Calling and Not Calling My Ex
10. The Stand Ins, Three
11. Bruce Wayne Campbell Interviewed on the Roof of the Chelsea Hotel, 1979
Penny loafers, Stream of consciousness, Will Sheff (and Rod Stewart) are GOLDEN GODZ:
Is everyone excited about the National Hockey League (NHL) Stanley Cup finals? No? Me neither. But, speaking of things that are more beloved in Canadian than America, Sloan are coming out with a new LP. The 17-year-old Toronto-via-Halifax group have more than a couple hits in their homeland, but are all but ignored outside the safe confines of the Great White North. Think of them as the Canadian Weezer, just more evenly talented (all four members contribute GOOD songs, none of this "Thought I Knew"-type garbage) and better adjusted in the coconut than R. Cuomo (TMT Review).
The multi-instrumentalist lads of Sloan (Chris Murphy, Patrick Pentland, Jay Ferguson, Andrew Scott) are releasing that new LP, Parallel Play (Yep Roc), June 10 on CD, vinyl, and digital download, their first since that 30-track, everlasting gobstopper of an album, Never Hear The End Of It. The new record's a simpler affair, with each member contributing three tracks, while he who occupies the drum stool the most, Andrew Scott, added one more to his total, rounding out a 13-track record that is a sonic extension of NHTEOI. Think of it as that album's younger, slimmer brother.
When it comes to Sloan, the LP is just half the prize. Live masters on the level of Robert Pollard (but sober), a Sloan show is an arena show on a club level, replete with sing-alongs and chanting, a raucous good time for sure. The boys are embarking on an East Coast tour (with a few homeland dates at the end) beginning June 14 in support of PP. You should do anything, including stepping over your own mother, to get tickets -- you will thank me later.
Parallel Play tracklist: