5 things on the tight list

1. My local crunchy black granola doom boys Thou are on the permanent tight list for being chosen to play with the mighty SUNN O))) at The Knitting Factory (along with arch avant-violinist Tony Conrad) and the First Unitarian Church in Philadelphia (pictured above), even if the non-denominational higher powers that oversee such ecumenically hallowed (yet totally open-minded) ground elected to sabotage their fog machines. Couldn't have happened to a nicer horde.
2. I just went through orientation for my finally full-time job at the major southern university from which I graduated and found that besides being able to go to the doctor and having retirement benefits, I can now check out books and CD's from the library, a perk which I could not confirm I would have as staff until yesterday. Immediately after orientation I darted over there, thinking I would check out and checked out Antonin Artaud: Selected Writings ed. by Susan Sontag, the first book I checked out from there as an eager freshman, or Inifinite Jest (checked out, of course) so instead I got
   
3. The Aesthetics of Rock by Richard Meltzer, recommended by many a source over the years but until now, I could never readily source a copy. I tore through almost 100 pages of it last night, letting the stream of hyperactive analysis-as-jive, jive-as-analysis (or maybe even jive-ass analysis...) hit me like a firehose. I used to think Griel Marcus was the smartest guy to write about rock 'n' roll, but now I'm not so sure. It's a book I have a hard time following in the regular reading-a-book sense, so instead I will follow it like an eager little kid running after a cooler teenager popping wheelies on a rusted bike.
4. The new Of Montreal album Skeletal Lamping is even better than I tought it would be. I take a dim view of hipster dance rock bullshit bexcause it is vapid, reudundant, and a pale reflection of the joyless joy that this music embodied back when I was checking out Artaud books from the library. I am leery of Prince worshippers today, in that I think they are wanting it too much. Prince was brilliant, an era-defiant and -defining but besides a handful of songs, the material just doesn't hold up - it sounds thinned with time. Skeletal Lamping manages to capture the best of dance-rock and Prince worship, rubbing it all like a genie lamp/erect penis depending on how you want to view it, with a well thought out plan of what to do with what comes pouring out. More devious and less paranoid than Hissing Fauna, nakedly livicious instead of shrieking alone in his room, I really like it. He's like what Bowie would have been if Bowie would have actually told you anything.
5. I think its OK to get mushy if I start my list with doom metal - as always, my wife and daughter are on the tight list. I love them unconditionally anyway, but they both continue to amaze and inspire me, and I am glad they let me trail after them while they race around on their bikes.