Stars Apparently Record Album, Use Nearby Home’s Unprotected Wi-Fi Network to Leak it Before Leaving Studio
I know what you’re thinking. Great, indie-pop news... I’ll make sure to read this as soon as I finish listening to that series of Tilly and the Wall rarities I downloaded!! LOL!!!.
Hey, fuck you hipster; I hear Slint is playing this weekend.
For those of you not in size ‘26’ jeans (or you in the tight jeans too...), keep in mind that they ARE on Art&Crafts and go ahead and fire up your favorite source for acquiring music as Stars leaked their new album In Our Bedroom After the War about 16 minutes after Joe Chiccarelli finished mixing it.
You could trust their word and believe that the only “just” thing to do is put it up for sale immediately as the promos currently being sent out will leak almost immediately.
You could go on to read their “beautiful” little manifesto saying that,
“Throughout this process, the most important people in this value chain, the fans, are given only two options -- wait until September 25th to legally purchase the new album or choose from a variety of sources and download the album for free, at any time.
“We hope you'll choose to support the band, and choose to pay for their album. However we don't think it's fair you should have to wait until September 25th to do so.
“As such, we are making the new Stars album available for legal download today, four days after it's completion... It's our hope that given a clear, legal alternative to downloading music for free, you will choose to support the creators.”
You could believe that this is a sensible response to piracy from a forward-thinking label.
Or, you could believe that Torquil Campbell (no, not the 13th Duke of Argyll) needs to boost his share ratio on a couple of private torrent trackers and this is the only way he knows how to go about it as that set of audiobooks he's seeding are just not downloading.
The album is available now from iTunes and the Arts&Crafts webstore and will be released in physical form September 25.
The Foo Fighters Announce Release Date and Tracklist for Forthcoming Album, Echoes, Silence, Patience And Grace, and I Set a Release for My Frustration with Dave Grohl
I was sifting through my childhood items last week, separating the goods from the "what the hell was I thinking?" the latter of which included my signed photo from Tim Allen. "Be cool to your tools... grr, grr," he wrote on the back. I'm almost married now, and I don't need to use that item to get laid anymore. Suddenly, I came across a letter I had written to Dave Grohl when I was in seventh grade. In light of The Foo Fighters' sixth studio album, Echoes, Silence, Patience And Grace, set for release September 25 on Roswell/RCA (just 14 days after I was violently violated by cats), I decided to share my letter with you all. Please forgive my poor grammar and immaturity; I was only 13.
Thanks for ruining my favorite Mentos commercials for me with your video for "Big Me". You're not funny dude. I hope videos become obsolete in ten years, because your video made me want to eat my own poop. Yeah, it was that bad. Anyways, if Kurt was still alive I bet he'd think you're an asshat too.
I'll have to admit that I like your CD though. It is good. I hope your new album The Colour and the Shape is kick ass man! I bet it will suck though. I hope you never take yourself too seriously. Knowing how big of an asshat you are though you'll probably think your music will change the world when really it will probably only become the theme song to some short-live TV show. Ha, I bet some lamewad, like Sting or Prince, will cover one of your whiney, look-at-me songs for the Super Bowl or something. Ha, I'd seriously eat my own poop if that ever happened.
Anyways, I ain't hatin'. Could you please send me an autographed picture of yourself? So far only Tim Allen has sent me one. That bums me out. At least I've met Zach from Saved by the Bell, Jodie Sweetin, and the Tiny Toons at a car show. I bet I know more celebrities than you. Suck it Grohl!
Your biggest fan,
I regret writing that letter now. I have no beef with you, Mr. Grohl. In fact, I'm looking forward to your new album, even though you never sent me a reply. The Foo dudes have also just released a reissued and remastered 10th anniversary deluxe edition of The Colour and the Shape featuring six bonus tracks. Wow, six bonus tracks! Maybe I'll sell my Jodie Sweetin autograph so I can buy it, or maybe I'll buy some meth to send to Sweetin. Seriously though, even more than I regret writing this article, I really, really regret eating my own shit.
Echoes, Silence, Patience And Grace tracklist, sequence remains TBD:
Are you experiencing rock-club restlessness, dance party dizziness, or hip-hop-related heartburn? Have you found lately that you are more pallid than Jack White, uncharacteristically apathetic about the redundant re-return of The Rentals, or unusually snippy toward that annoying friend of yours from work who seems to be the only person who legitimately listens to Fatboy Slim and Chemical Brothers?
If so, then you might be suffering from an increasingly common disease known as Prodigious Art-Folk Withdrawal Syndrome (PAWS), an alarming ailment that affects thousands of college-to-middle-aged music fans around the world. PAWS results when repeated abuse of tepid, overwrought, and predictably-linear pop structures leads to severe ear atrophy and unrelenting cravings for a more cerebral, syllabically-stimulating, folk-bent art music.
Luckily, there's a new hope on the metaphor-mixed horizon:
Introducing Newsom (antidoxylamine HCl).
Newsom is a safe, non-non-habit-forming chamber folk artist, made publicly available in Europe later this summer, that you simply listen to once a day (or as directed by a record store clerk) for fast, effective, and long-lasting relief of the kind of alterna-tedium caused by PAWS. Newsom works by targeting specific areas in the brain that show a high response to the harp and chamber ensemble stimuli found on last year's excellent Drag City LP Ys as well as this year's Joanna Newsom and the Ys Street Band EP. In a recent study, subjects who were exposed to the kind of three-dimensional, vivid-yet-obscure story songs found in Newsom increased their ability to concentrate on 12+ minute pieces of music by 45%.
Side affects of Newsom are generally mild and include a shrill, raspy singing voice, an inflamed writ, a secret crush on the stately siren, and, in extreme cases, an increased desire to speak in Middle English (if you experience a bout of Middle English lasting more than four hours, you should stop listening to Newsom and consult your therapist).
Say goodbye to PAWS and hello to the harp-playing Newsom: the "plucky" singer/songwriter!
Newsom is available at the following locations:
Tragic news from the hip-hop world, as 23-year-old Randy Hubbard Parker, son of KRS-One, was found dead in his apartment of an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. The Fulton County Medical Examiner's office said Parker died Friday, July 6. His mother, Simone G. Parker, claimed Parker was suffering from ‘severe’ depression, an affliction he had been dealing with for some time.
KRS-One is currently on tour with Marley Marl overseas, but has planned a private memorial for Randy on July the 18, with another memorial planned for August.
We offer our deepest condolences to family and friends.
The Internet Radio Royalty Payment Blues by Willie ‘PR Machine’ Bottoms (as recorded on June 26 by TMT field reporter/Dr. Seuess character The Lorax on what should have been a really nice DAT but, after The Lorax spent his stipend on trinkets and po’ boys while visiting New Orleans, turned out to be a TalkBoy)
That Sound Exchange
Made an offer today
To try an’ make internet radio stations’ worries go away
But Save Net Radio still ain’t happy
No, no they ain’t happy at all
Both of them ain’t happy
[The recorded portion of the tape slowly crawls to an unintelligible stop as our intrepid field reporter has once again failed to account for his TalkBoy’s brief but brilliant battery life with a fresh pack of Duracells... Garbled static cuts to the shortwave polka broadcasts previously recorded on the cassette.]
Notes: Play to the tune of Sweet Home Chicago, except substitute any reference to “California” with Sound Exchange’s proposed $2,500 cap on the minimum $500 per station/channel payments for any one online internet service, which, as part of the Copyright Royalty Board’s (CRB) ruling on the matter, is set to go into effect July 15. Swap any references to “Chicago” with Save Net Radio and DiMA’s polite decline of the “California” offer, describing the proposed offer’s discontinuance in 2008, two years before the CRB’s decision expires, as “a stay of execution for Internet radio.” And any meetings said to take place at “the crossroads” will most likely occur on Capitol Hill or some reasonably accommodating and mutually agreed upon hill that may or may not be a crossroads. Or perhaps even some metaphorical crossroads of internet tubes, organized in, of course, series.
Dear Mr P,
I apologize, but consider this my two-weeks notice. I have loved my time at Tiny Mix TapesÂ®. I have impressed some girls, received some torrent tracker invites, and heck, I like to think that the legs of my jeans are just a little tighter now that all is said and done. However, I cannot in good faith stay at this operation when the funniest thing I can conjure is the truth.
I have been waiting to write an article on the Pied Piper Of R&B, R. “Kells” Kelly, since before I knew Tiny Mix Tapes existed. I have watched the Trapped In The Closet DVD in full no less than 30 times. I can more or less quote “Kells Commentary Remix” (normally known as director’s commentary in Criterionspeak) word for word. So when I heard there was new R. Kelly information, I jumped on it. I had jokes. Oh did I ever have jokes. I was going to talk about how in apparent manic states he drops remixes before the actual tracks. I was going to mention the song "Sex Planet" and its hilariously half-baked space-themed innuendos (he rhymes painless and Uranus and makes copious references to his “giant rocket”). I even had something prepared about the sunglasses he wears in the “I’m A Flirt” video that are literally covered in diamonds. Covered. As in the lenses... he looks like a bug.
While you were keeled over thanking God that you hired me, I was going to shred your face off via hilarity by discussing Trapped and its numerous flaws, its subtle racism, its lack of continuity, its green screens, the fact that “Kellz” wasn’t clever enough to name the protagonist (played by himself), so he just called him Sylvester... his real name. While you were on Orbitz buying a ticket to Chicago to shake my hand, I was going delve into the director’s commentary where he sits in a leather chair, smoking a cigar watching Trapped, for what seems to be the first time, and says things like “most people don’t even notice... but this is actually rhyming the whole way through... I don’t know how that happened.” Or when he claims that Trapped will go on forever, that other rappers will take over after he dies (what), that it will turn into a TV series (what?), and a talk show (WHAT?). Additionally, he has claimed that after the nuclear holocaust, all that will exist will be cockroaches, Twinkies, and Trapped. I imagined around 35,000 Digg hits in the next two days just for my article.
So, with all of this prepared, I went to the source article to find MAYBE two facts to give my article the credibility it would need to finally snag TMT that Pulitzer we’ve been waiting for. Upon actually opening the article, it became VERY clear that I stood no chance of topping R. Kelly’s real life, even with my finest humor and wry observations.
Read it. I know, clicking a link can be painful, but there is no way for me to supplant the absurdity of R. Kelly’s life with my own words. HE HAS A CHEERS REPLICA PUB IN HIS HOME CALLED ROBERT'S BAR AND GRILLE. HE OFFERED TO PAY HIS BROTHER TO TAKE THE RAP FOR THE SEX TAPE. HE COMPARED HIMSELF TO ALI, MLK, MARVIN GAYE, AND BOB MARLEY. I... I... I’m just speechless...
Trapped In The Closet Chapter 13-30 come out July 24.
I’m going to go see if there’s still time for me to change my major to finance.
As recently reported, The Go! Team are gearing up to release a new album, Proof of Youth, September 10 in the UK on Memphis Industries and September 11 via Sub Pop in the U.S. It was co-produced by the band along with Gareth Parton (Thunder Lightning Strike, The Killers, The Cribs, The Futureheads), includes a B-side titled Myself, a cover of Sonic Youth's Bull in the Heather, a Black Affair remix, and many cameos, including one from Chuck D of Public Enemy (hey, you never know).
The Go! Team are gearing up for a tour, but various sources are reporting different tourdates (we won't name names, but errors probably stem from Sub Pop's incorrect dates). We believe these to be the correct dates:
Shoot us if we're wrong.
Times New Viking got that lo-fi sound and I like it. i wonder how that would transfer over into writing. Not worryin about polish or anything, just letting the words fly. Could be more honest. Could appeal to Generation Z. IT WOuld definitely be annoying as hell though, in addition to simply copping out stylistically without having any of the stuff that makes TNV a band worth their salt, like impeccable pop sensibility and cues from artists like Pavement and the Clean.
Besides, it’s impossible for Times New Viking to transfer their blown-out recording style into a live setting (FYI: I'm done with the lo-fi writing). On their upcoming tour, they’ll have to resort to other tricks, sonic and otherwise, to retain the attention of gimmick-hungry kids reared on iPhones and schoolyard fantasies of hoverboards.
What’s a band to do? The pressure’s on. TNV are relatively recent Matador signees and Cosloy’s sure as hell not writing any of those fat Beggars Group checks for a band that doesn’t bring its ‘A’ game live.
My advice to TNV: Be yourselves. There’s no business like show business. The audience wants to like you. Just picture them with no pants on, and you’ll be fine. Contempt for the audience is probably what killed Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. These methods might not take you to Hollywood, but remember: Even famous people have to live with themselves.
Go Out There and Make Me Proud:
Two of Los Angeles’ biggest indie record stores -- Sea Level, lodged in the Echo Park neighborhood, and Santa Monica’s ancient second-hand emporium House of Records -- have both closed their doors for the last time. But guess what, avid industry watchers? Neither of the closures, apparently, have got anything to do with you evil download-doers and your thieving ways. And there’s no connection to the arrival in LA in 2001 of the ultra-indie Amoeba.
Indeed, contrary to what you might expect, Sea Level has actually seen an increase in its sales the past couple of years. The problem with Sea Level, at least, seems to be that boss-man Todd Clifford has gone all old and nasty on your pimply and pert little indie asses. Time was he would show MUCH love to all those who would come in and buy Zwan vinyl.. then, I dunno, it sounds like something just snapped -- now things have changed somewhat. “Now, when customers come in, I'm like, 'Just buy it and leave,'" he says. "This isn't a job where I should wake up and say, 'I don't want to go to work.' "
So, Todd decided that he wasn’t going to bother going to work anymore, and the shop recently closed. You can understand where the dude is coming from, right? Owning a successful indie store in one of the most interesting LA neighborhoods would drive me to self-mutilation at an absolute minimum. Better off for all concerned to get as far away from that shit as you can, Toddy.
House of Records has a similar sort of story; shop seems to have been doing good enough money-wise, but owner Philip Smith sounds like he’s simply had enough of running the store he’s owned since 1991. He reckons the second-hand music business is best left to those who excel at “being a hustler.” Somewhat more sinisterly, he opines that “...the business isn't going to walk in the door anymore. It has to be pursued." This sort of makes me imagine being furiously chased down the street by a gigantic, animatronic version of the face off the front of R.E.M.’s Monster CD should I even dare to pass by the store without at least popping in. I can totally understand Mr Smith’s wish to not be involved in that sort of thing a moment longer. It is evil.
[Setting: A sterile medical clinic examining room. There sits a half-naked emo kid. A single tear streams down his face. Enter Doctor]
Doctor: So Mr. Heartlong, what can I do for you today?
Emo Kid: [sobs] Well , Sir, um... I've got this... um... burning sensation when I, you know... urinate. And, um... discharge.
D: I see. Well how long have you noticed this?
EK: About 2 weeks.
D: I am sorry to inform you, but it sounds like you may have an STI. Drop your pants and let me take a look.
EK: [continues to sob profusely]
D: [leans forward, examining problem area, gives one of those hmmmm sounds, and stands up] Well again I'm sorry, but it looks like you have a case of gonorrhea.
EK: [really starts to break down, lips quivering] B-b-b-but I've never had sex before.
D: Well I have heard of one other method of contraction. What have you been doing for the last month, approximately?
EK: Nothing sex-wise, I've been sitting in my room, trying to get as many random people on my Facebook friends list as possible to look super cool and listening to the new Fall Out Boy album. But no sex.
D: Ahhh, we've been seeing a lot of this recently.
EK: [uncontrollably crying] What is it, Doc!? How'd this happen!?
D: You see the combination of skin-tight jeans, angular haircuts, and the modulation in Patrick Stump's voice have been causing an epidemic of gonorrhea to spread across the continent.
EK: Is there anything I can do?
D: Well, there is one thing that may be able to help...
EK: What is it? I'll do anything... anything [makes a move on the doctor]
D: [shoving Emo Kid away] God! Get off me, ughh. You have gonorrhea, that's fuckin' sick!
EK: I'm sorry Doc; just make it go away.
D: Okay, but you have to follow my instruction. First of all, we're going to have to amputate that haircut.
EK: [looks like he got kicked in the balls] No Doc, no! There must be some other way. I'm nothing without my hair. How will I show my angst?!?
D: I'm sorry; it's part of the quarantine process.
EK: Is that all? You're not going to have to amputate anything else are you?
D: No. But you need to take this prescription and go to Ted's Pharmacy, and talk to the head pharmacist, Leo. It's a traveling pharmacy though, so you'll have to catch him at one of these locations:
EK: Thanks Doc. [sniff] But what are you prescribing me?
D: Some taste, now get the hell out of my office! And kid... you're going to be okay.