Sunday, October 10, 2004

Arriving Late to the Musical Party

First off, I've just said goodbye to the Pater Familiae Caesaris. It was really nice for him to visit, me not having seen him since March or so. Today we made the Gumbo That Conquered A Thousand Nations With Its Awesomenousity. I now have my stockpile ready so that I may survive the bitterly cold Yankee winter.

Onto the subject at hand...

I just got Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes by TV on the Radio. This is a group that Hokmayen was telling me about back when Roscoe the FM was knee-high to a mitochondrion. I finally got around to procuring it, and man-oh-man is it good. As the Diner points out, TVotR tells you up front: "Cover your balls, cause we swing kung fu." It doesn't balls-out rock like I require most of my music to, it's more of a think piece, but don't let that scare you. I seem to recall, but can't for the life of me remember where I saw, someone remark that TVotR is what happens when Williamsburg retro-rockers are weened on Otis Redding. Maybe I didn't see that somewhere and I made it up all by myself. I doubt that, but then again, stranger things have happened. I did call the breakout success of the brazilian cut tanga months before it happened.

Something I've had for a while is Madvillainy by Madvillain, which is itself a collaboration of MF Doom and Madlib. I remember seeing (once again I forget where) this album described as a combination of Jay Z and Pharrell Williams soaked in psychedelic drugs filtered through mud. Let me tell you, this description is total shit. First of all, Jay Z is an absolutely crap MC. Secondly, Pharrell Williams is a sellout bitch. There's a word for people who produce tracks for Britney Spears. That word is "whore." Someone needs to give Pharrell a good choking so he won't forget what happens when Wayne Brady doesn't get what Wayne Brady's due.

Madvillainy is a really good, really weird hiphop album. Madlib is a dj who makes mixing an instrtument capable of complete expression, and MF Doom is a rhymesmyth of the highest caliber. To wit:

"Shots of the scotch from out the square shot glasses
And he won't stop `til he got the masses
And show `em what they know not through flows of hot molasses
Do it like the robot to head spin to boogaloo
Took a few minutes to convince the average bugaboo"

And so on.

Good business.