How to Synthesize LSD in Your Bathtub; Galactic Zoo Dossier #7 Hits Streets; Limited Availability; Try Good (Independent) Record Stores!
I was going to preface this story with simple "how-to" instructions for synthesizing LSD (d-lysergic acid diethylamide) in your own home. As I discovered after a few minutes of cursory research on the internet, which I should have done before I started writing, a complete chemistry lab is necessary, oh, and a basic knowledge in chemistry isn't enough.
But who needs LSD? There are plenty of hallucinogenic psycho-actives out there. So, without further ado:
How to Grow Magic Mushrooms in Your Closet Under the Stairs:
Wait... there are probably certain legal ramifications I might want to consider before I continue, not to mention the amount of time necessary for the 'shrooms to grow (more like fester).
I guess the legal alternative we're left with is, sad to say, Salvia (Salvia divinorum), which, according to Erowid.org, "is a sprawling perennial herb found in the Sierra Mazatec region of Mexico. Its leaves contain the extremely potent Salvinorin A. It has a history of buccal use as a divinatory psychedelic, and has been widely available since the mid-1990s primarily as a smoked herb. Its effects are considered unpleasant by many people."
Allow me reiterate and highlight that last point: Its effects are considered unpleasant by many people.
The one and only time I tried Salvia was after a night of drinking in bars whereupon I ran into two underage drinkers — they seemed nice enough — and offered that I could enjoy a smoke with them back at their apartment. One guy was wearing an Audioslave T-shirt, the other a Che Guevara; I mention this mainly just because I remember it, but you can also see what I'm getting at here.
I didn't know before departing the bar that we were going to be smoking Salvia, and when I arrived and discovered such, it seemed like my effort (and slightly drunken state) necessitated that I at least try it — it was legal after all. To say that the sensations I felt were unpleasant would be an understatement — first my face became numb, then I lost peripheral vision, and then the media barrage around me (the dudes had The Beatles playing on their shit stereo, their computer was streaming really bad hip-hop, and they had their TV on mute) blurred into a mushy ball of sound and light which resembled Rosie O'Donnell more than The Beatles or really bad hip-hop. I wonder now if a typical Salvia den consists of this horrific media barrage.
And then after just a few minutes — good luck divinizing, finding God, in just a few minutes — I was back to normal, albeit with a terrible headache, as if I had collided with the curb or had been cracked across the skull with an aluminum baseball bat. [Belated disclaimer: my experience is meant as a warning more so than an advocation, is it obvious?]
With the legal status of Saliva coming into question — it should be illegal, really — a new alternative is about to hit the market, of which I am a huge advocate.
The Galactic Zoo Dossier Issue #7 hit stores earlier this week and is available through Drag City Records. In addition to a 100+ page comic book/magazine of hand-drawn pages, including features and interviews, it contains 2 CDs of new and old, rare and exclusive jams by Devendra Banhart, The Stooges, Dog of Mystery, Ed Askew, Blossom Toes, and Michael Yonkers, among others.
The psychedelic primer that is The Galactic Zoo Dossier generally runs in limited quantities of about 1,500 copies and is superiorly priced around $17, give or take a few bucks. Considering that this package is entirely legal, in comparison, to the waning legality of a dose of Salvia for about the same street value and with no side effects, I'd highly recommend not ingesting any drugs (legal or otherwise) and just sticking to the music.
SoundExchange Make Attempt to Not Suck, The Attempt Sucks, They Suck: Royalty Fees Capped Only for Anti-Streamripping Stations
I was briefly shaken out of a morbid heatwave torpor last week when the recording industry appeared -- if only for a fleeting, beautiful moment -- to show just a modicum of common decency. I’m referring to SoundExchange’s agreement (under congressional pressure) to temporarily cap the onerous royalty fees they were preparing to impose upon internet radio stations. Those new fees would have theoretically cost some stations no less than a billion dollars a year and, as an obvious consequence, force them to stop broadcasting. The new agreement stipulated that these fees would be capped at a maximum of $50,000 per year, per station.
As you might have guessed, however, there’s a rather big catch in the whole deal that SoundExchange proposed. They’re now saying that the $50,000 ‘cap’ on webcasters’ fees will only be made available to those stations who “work to stop users from engaging in “streamripping” -- turning internet radio performances into a digital music library.” It’s not as if the RIAA mob have even provided any information as to how they actually want the stations to “work to stop” streamripping. Without such divine guidance being available, it would be fair to infer that what they want is for the internet radio industry to basically lock down all of their content with so much DRM that, before long, the shit will be gushing out of your tweeters like a veritable torrent of necessarily emasculated gism. I say this because there’s really no other way of ‘protecting’ the music broadcast on web radio from the claws of stream-ripping software; although it does seem to appear that no one even knows if it would actually be feasible to fully implement DRM in the web radio sphere.
It’ll be interesting to see what transpires from here. SoundExchange’s stance appears to be a blatant attempt at self-aggrandizement -- they want to make sure everyone knows that they still consider themselves to be the fucking daddy when it comes to this issue, despite last week’s beatdown. The difference is that the imposition of web radio fees, when compared to the other agendas the industry has been pursuing of late, is one where the various arms of government have not currently thrown their support fully behind the RIAA line. Added to that, the vagueness of the language used by SoundExchange suggests that even THEY don’t really know what they’re proposing here. Fun all 'round. Except if you listen to internet radio, of course.
As is always the case with this issue, you can read more at SaveNetRadio.
I feel this need to bite my flesh and prove reality exists, because the French dance duo, Justice, or Justeece, is touring. And I’m back from an unannounced hiatus. I’m back only because of Justice. I tried to write a story about Collective Soul and how, no matter how hip I think I am now, when I look back on my life, I can't erase the time I sang “Shine” in the backseat of my mother’s Honda Accord. And it was in the very same car that I sat on my way to see the Counting Crows paired with Live. Yes, I was that cool. But Justice has saved me. I am back. I am wearing tapered jeans and v-neck shirts with a long metallic necklace and Ray-Ban wayfarers. I say do the D-A-N-C-E and pretend to be a P.Y.T. And now, I’m calling forth all of you readers to tell my editor I deserve to do an interview with the Waters of Nazareth. I want to go to “The Party” with Uffie. And I want to dance with you at the Metro or Parklife in Australia or Webster Hall in NYC, but most likely the Metro in Chicago. (Oh yeah, please e-mail Mr P or Leah and tell them Petya should get two tickets to the Metro show, so he can get down to business). Much love you P.Y.T.s.
More tours and more whoring myself out. Seriously, I have no shame. This entire article is dedicated to me getting an interview with Justice. I mean there is some information about the Mountain Goats, but I’m just honestly trying to get my editors’ attention.
I have asked around (roughly 4.5 billion people), and they have said there are two things that would make them happy: a Mountain Goats tour and reading an interview with Justice done by Petya Romanov. I know this sounds farcical, or maybe you think I’m just saying this so my editors will cave and try and hook me up with an interview, but seriously. I have testimony:
“Number one favorite act to catch live would have to be The Mountain Goats. And if only Petya had the opportunity to interview Justice, then and only then, would I sleep soundly,” said a U.S. soldier stationed in an Iraqi hospital after friendly fire.
“Most anticipated tour? The Mountain Goats, of course! Most anticipated interview? Petya doing Justice of course!” exclaimed Tony Blair shortly after stepping down as British P.M.
“Yeah I ate goat once! Tastes great over fried rice,” said Harry Caray, just before he picked the sun as his favorite planet.
“Picture the Mountain Goats going on tour with Justice. Now picture the tour being documented by Petya Romanov from TMT. That would be the biggest disaster since Robert Downey Jr. decided it was a good idea to snort three kilos of coke off my grandma’s ass and call it sledding,” said Bono.
You get the point. The Mountain Goats are going on tour, and I still want to land an interview with Justice. So, here is where you, the valued reader, come in. E-mail the interview heads here at the site, Mr P and/or Leveer. Tell them how much it means to you to read an interview with Justice. Tell them that my first interview with Sunset Rubdown was just a rookie mistake, you know, nerves and gas and a hyperactive pituitary gland.
And yeah, The Mountain Goats are going on tour.
5. Bret Maverick (from the 1994 smash Maverick) – Mel can play some cards. ‘Nuff said.
4. Riverboat Gamblin’ Gator (from Tiny Toon Adventures: How I Spent My Summer Vacation) – I don’t know much about this fella except that I made his name up. As I recall, Babs attempts to get even with Buster by unleashing a Hoover-sized dam, chock full of water, upon their unsuspecting city. She neglects to take into account Buster’s exuberant love of water sports, and somehow the two end up floating down the river, Huck Finn style, unearthing the deep racial prejudices of their cartoon, assumedly post-Reconstruction world. I think this gator tries to eat them.
3. Governor Haley Barbour (R-MS) - After Hurricane Katrina damaged one of Mississippi’s most lucrative industries -- gambling -- the governor signed legislation allowing casinos, once relegated to offshore digs, the ability to operate up to 800 feet inland. These new casinos, though economically beneficial (unless we want to get into the effects of casino gambling on surrounding communities), could pose a threat to residents looking to rebuild their homes and lives in the diverse, mixed-income neighborhoods of East Biloxi. Reconstruction at a cost? All that makes him the anti-riverboat gambler, I guess.
2. Mark Twain – Such a riverboat gamblin’ fool, he’s got an armada of riverboats (1) (2), even though he’s been dead for 97 years. Them boats ain’t even in the same time-zone. Talk about some supernatural chicanery. Rumor has it that during a secret meeting with known alchemist and voodoo practitioner Nikola Tesla, Twain dared the pomade-covered Serb to chant an incantation over the humorist’s ruffly moustache. To this day, visitors of Twain’s grave in Elmira, NY claim to hear the moustache, overgrown and surly as ever, scraping against the top of his coffin, attempting to escape and ride those aptly-named riverboats once again.
Everyone’s Favorite Non-Metallica Metal-Caricatures Megadeth to Kick Our Asses, Fuck Our Moms, Huff Our Paint Cans, Play Air-Guitar On Our Crucifixes, Re-perm Their Gorgeous Hair, and Tour U.S. This Fall; Dave Mustaine to TMT: “Nice Story, Tell it to Reader’s Digest!”
Hello me, it's me again:
Everyone's favorite Metallica-ousted, drug-addled, Fozzy Bear-voiced paragon of thrash metal douche baggery Dave Mustane is back for another round of PG-rated Armageddon poetry and classical guitar-inspired wank-offs with good ol' spelling bee drop-outs Megadeth.
Fresh off a string of European festival appearances (if "fresh" is a word that could ever really apply here), Dave Mustaine and Co. will hit (read: batter, pulverize, etc.) mostly theaters and clubs for a month-long string... uh, I mean... badass iron chain of headlining dates in support of May's apparently critically-acclaimed and reeeeally classy pun-invoking LP United Abominations (Roadrunner).
Pre-sale tickets are available now through the group's undoubtedly high-traffic fanclub website (which, TRUST ME, is worth checking out for the artwork alone) and will go on sale to the, er, "general buying public" over the next few days... so, you know, we’d all better hustle...
The Countdown to Extinction:
In Negativland, your little brother gets a migraine during Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix but doesn't tell you, just waits until he gets home and cries to mom in thin, high, back-of-the-throat noises with his back arched against the couch cushions. Also in Negativland, your boss wears tie-dye shirts with brown fake-leather belts and tells stories that aren't true about punching holes through the walls of his office. In Negativland, you get to the bottom of a huge bowl of couscous and find a tiny, delicate, dead baby ant. In Negativland, you feel kind of sorry for it and also want to hurl. In Negativland, you are close to people you do not want to be close to and are far from people you do not want to be far from. Also in Negativland, there are lots of places spelled wrong for fun, like the Drugstor and the Movi Theatr and the Emergencie Rume.
If you like these sorts of things, then you will probably love visiting or even living in Negativland. Train tickets are wildly overpriced but worth it if you fall asleep reading the first part of a torn-apart copy of Newsweek and wake up hours later to discover that a large man in a Hawaiian shirt has been drinking a beer and watching you sleep.
P.S. In Negativland, your girlfriend writes a news story for you because you are too lazy and/or drug-addled to move.
I've never been able to get a line from John Vanderslice's "Exodus Damage" out of my head. Actually, it's not even the whole line, it's a word. The time of day, of all things, to be specific. It's burned in my memory, and I've often wondered if it was there because of what he says or how he says it. It could be because of both, I suppose, but I feel that it oscillates depending on my mood.
It's not from the version off Pixel Revolt; it's from a live version posted on his website. He says it loud and with force, with confidence. It sticks out; it floats above the rest of the line, and all that's left are these giant numbers written in dirty snow in red Helvetica. Yes, September 11 is there, the images of it are unavoidable, but it's how he says it. It's enunciated, it's slow, it's loud. It feels innocent, that he's speaking to a foreigner for the first time, that he thinks if you speak slow enough and loud enough, they'll understand.
Airplanes, too. He talks of airplanes, but those feel subverted, underneath the emblazoned red numbers. For some reason, they all seem to be going to California. Not L.A. or San Francisco, but Sacramento. The Sacramento of Joan Didion, too, a fading city. They're all leaving from the airport that's near my house, the first day planes started flying again after the disaster. The day when everyone stopped and looked up. The day we watched them move slowly and loudly across the sky.
I don't know if that's the effect John Vanderslice wanted, but that's really the best part. It reminds us that songs, intended for everyone, become ours and no one else's. It reminds us that there is value not just in the sum of parts, but the nuance of the parts themselves. John Vanderslice is touring starting on September 6 in Los Angeles, the Sacramento of the South. Go to hear everything, or a line, or just a word, but it will all be worth it
07.28.07 - Seattle, WA - Capitol Hill Block Party
09.06.07 - Los Angeles, CA - Troubadour
09.07.07 - San Diego, CA - Casbah
09.08.07 - Phoenix, AZ - Modified
09.09.07 - Tucson, AZ - Plush
09.11.07 - Austin, TX - The Parish
09.12.07 - Norman, OK - The Opolis
09.14.07 - Dallas, TX - The Loft
09.15.07 - Baton Rouge, LA - Spanish Moon
09.17.07 - Orlando, FL - The Social
09.18.07 - St Augustine, FL - Café Eleven
09.19.07 - Tallahassee, FL - Club Downunder
09.20.07 - Atlanta, GA - The Earl
09.21.07 - Durham, NC - Duke Coffeehouse
09.24.07 - Philadelphia, PA - Johnny Brenda's
09.26.07 - New York, NY - Bowery Ballroom
09.27.07 - Cambridge, MA - Middle East Upstairs
09.28.07 - Cambridge, MA - Middle East Upstairs
10.01.07 - Toronto, ON - Horseshoe Tavern
10.02.07 - Ann Arbor, MI - Blind Pig
10.03.07 - Cleveland Heights, OH - Grog Shop at Coventry Yard
10.04.07 - Athens, OH - Baker Theater
10.05.07 - Bloomington, IN - John Waldron Arts Center
10.06.07 - Chicago, IL - Empty Bottle
10.09.07 - Omaha, NE - The Waiting Room
10.11.07 - Denver, CO - Hi-Dive
10.13.07 - Salt Lake City, UT - Kilby Court
10.15.07 - Vancouver, BC - The Red Room
10.18.07 - Portland, OR - Doug Fir Lounge
10.20.07 - San Francisco, CA - The Independent
Cat Power, Feist Will Touch You And Maybe Each Other For The Hottest State; Thousands of Pale, Skinny Boys Experience The Ultimate Indie Wet Dream
In the most boner-worthy official soundtrack (or at least since Garden State changed our lives), some of the hottest indie stars and starlets of the moment, including Cat Power, Feist, and Bright Eyes, will combine to contribute to the soundtrack for The Hottest State. The hottest state, indeed. To be released August 7 on Hickory Records, the 2 score compositions and 16 original tracks that make up the record were all recorded exclusively for this compilation. Each track was written by executive producer and Grammy winner Jesse Harris, who shares production duties with none other than the star of the film, Ethan Hawke.
Hawke, who has had his fair share of hot indie moments (in 1995's Reality Bites and as Jesse in Before Sunrise and Before Sunset), has padded his scene-point total by attaching his name to this sizzling project. First gaining notoriety in the world of hip for starring alongside Winona Ryder, who has been linked to indie-hearthrobs Conor Oberst and Ryan Adams, his cred was already through the roof; with The Hottest State, Hawke only solidifies his role at the top of the illustrious "Actors Who Could Hang With Credible Musicians" list, in good company with Johnny Depp and Sir Zach Braff. If Depp is the Sonic Youth of actors (impeccable pedigree slightly tarnished by recent Pirates/Starbucks debacles) and Braff is The Shins (obviously), then Hawke is most certainly Yo La Tengo, or at the very least Grizzly Bear.
Also contributing are dirty-hot blues rockers The Black Keys, rustic-hot folk singer M. Ward, stoner-hot Willie Nelson, and Starbucks-hot Norah Jones.
The Hottest State tracklist:
Extra, Extra! Old News Rehash: Avril Lavigne Awarded Now-Official Title of Culture’s Equivalent to a Coked-Up Street Hooker Courtesy of The Rubinoos, Who Thirst for Validation, Their Own Groupies, and Better-Looking Coked-Up Street Hookers; The Rubinoos To Go After Muzik’s Fav Mini-Slice: Lil’ Ol’ Av-Lav on Principle; Yea, Seriously, They Have No Financial Intention
It’s being argued that America’s most-delicious middle-finger-flicking, wet-skull-t-shirt-dripping, power-chord-ripping, black-and-angry-lollipop-licking crack baby Avril Lavigne ripped off The Rubinoos’ way popular (um, yea...) 1970zzzz jam “I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend.”
And, apparently, Lil’ Miss Tortured-Canadian-“Wife Beater Muscle Shirts Reserve Me the Right to Not Speak in Full Sentences”-Mangy-Sex-Kitten-Syndrome’s track “I Don’t Have to Try” rips Peaches’ “I’m The Kinda.”
I’m so offended, and so, so very validated!
Swift justice lives, America, now that The Man is breathing heavily down Avril’s neck!
Free at last, free at last, thank God Almighty We Are Free At Last, Slaves O’ The Red, White, and Blue! Since a lil’ slice of crime-doesn’t-pay is being served to supposed copycat Avy Baby, there will be no war, no AIDS, and no AK-47s! Genocide in Darfur will be OVER! Excellent, expensive prizes, like Rolexes and James Bond figurines, will come in all breakfast cereals! James Bond will feed the less fortunate cereal, send all his tuxedos to inner-city school children, and teach them impressive tricks with switchblades! Violence as we know it will cease to exist and be used as performance art, with lofty pay for said inner-city school children, all of whom will use their knowledge of the streets for good and not evil!
It seems, though, everyone’s thrilled to shoot the shit about Lavigne’s alleged sticky lil’ fingers. Punch your own, less sticky, more indie!, limber little fingers through YouTube for very low budget, very poorly executed reaction films to accusations fired at Av, one of which includes a self-satisfied narrator reciting “Saturday in the Park” lyrics. Because, TMT reader, you’re intelligent enough to understand that close-but-no-cigar archaic references, even those seemingly disconnected from the overarching theme of a work, are really funny!
Possible reason for maybe-maybe-not Rubinoos rip-off:
Maybe our favorite Hostess-cupcake-with-the-mostest was paying musical homage to The Rubinoos in “Girlfriend.” Since they're really well-known. And often paid tribute to. And really, ridiculously well-known.
The truth, as I see it:
Oh-no-she-didn’t-girlfriend was trying to send a specific, back-up-dancers-included message to The Rubinoos about a possible future collaboration, obviously featuring herself and both the founding Rubinoos in a hot-and-sudsy-twofer-shower scene. Obviously, a fully clothed shower scene. With tuxedos provided by James Bond. Self-satisfied narrator will narrate said video. Because he understands humor. And has a really, really, sexy voice.