The Kings of Convenience make my soul fly day or night, sunny or fleeting rain. Their guitars are like one gigantic deep breath of lavender and fields of alfalfa.What is life without musical massages?
An old video I still love:
A live Paris performance: www.blogotheque.com
NEW music from The Kings of Convenience on Myspace
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My very first San Francisco Halloween is upon us! I’ll be celebrating my favorite holiday at the Club 1994 Halloween special which promises to be a crazy dance party for SF style hipsters tromping under the moonlight in costumes reminiscent of my own childhood. I expect to see a fair share of MJs in his prime, a few Boy Meets World characters, maybe Dolly (and literal other half, Dolly2), the ladies of Clueless, baby Brit, Kurt and the crazy Courtney, Scream masks, the Prince of Bel-Air, some Beastie Boys, SEAL, Sienfield characters, TLC, OJ and Power Rangers.
After careful consideration (and a fair budget analysis), the woman and I have decided to be a famous 90s couple…a pair no one could forget, even if they tried.
Hint One: The Blue Dress
Hint Two: The cigar
The democrat who fucked up and got caught by a few of his own mini men:
….Mr. Bill Clinton and Ms. Monica Lewinsky.
I’m going as the stunning Monica and Ann is going gray to be my lover, Bill. We’re still working on finding our wigs and the perfect white substance that made this whole escapade possible. Glue? Egg whites? Toothpaste? The test for the perfect cum stain has begun….
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It was 1962 and hot girl groups like The Crystals had everyone’s attention at bay. So when Lil Eva, the voice behind “Loco-motion” revealed that her boyfriend hit her as a way of showing his affection, Carole King and Gerry Goffin got together and wrote up the song “He Hit Me (It Felt Like A Kiss)” as a protest for all the abused women blinded by years of manipulation. Phil Spector guided The Crystals as they recorded this eerie song, which was later banned by most radio stations after multiple complaints by listeners who were disturbed by the lyrics.
Barbara Alston’s vocals sound lovestruck and swoon alongside strings and funereal drums, while the angelic backing vocals support the belief that the man has done no wrong. Super creepy and more so by how easily this song will swim in your head for hours after a quick listen. I found myself humming the minorly sweet melody while walking in the park and later replacing the lyrics with new, less disturbing ones pertaining to my dog.
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Tagged: The Crystals
Love this new video from Fan Death, a Canadian female-duo who play dirty with their dark disco. “Reunited” is a track from their heir new ep “A Coin For the Well”. The video has multiple cameos from faux celebrities like Prince, Marilyn Manson, Courtney Love, Axl Rose and an Asian Pee Wee Herman, all of which are perfect for impersonating this weekend.
Fan Death on Wikipedia: the South Korean urban legend that states when an electric fan is left running overnight in a closed room, death will result for those who remain inside the room with the small machine. Apparently, fans manufactured and sold in Korea are often equipped with a timer in order to avoid this tradgedy for those who fall asleep while cooling off.
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Tagged: Fan Death
The Sounds, Sweedish electropop hotties, played San Francisco’s Warfield Saturday night to a mixed crowd of dance floor junkies, teenage hipsters and my gleaming girlfriend. Her favorite band and my not so favorite, I was pleasantly surprised by an incredible show with tons of energy and songs that hit their prime on the live stage.
Maja Ivarsson is one hot female. A badass frontwoman with limitless attitude, she high-kicked, spat into the air, crawled across stage and worked her skyscrapper, strappy stilettos under the gleams of bright lights, taking time to light up a few cigarettes between lyrics and tease the crowd.
I was incredibly envious of her wardrobe choices for the evening: faux leather leggings with sexy triangle cutouts, exposing perfect pie slices of thigh. She added a hot, black leather jacket with puffed sleeves, a see through white tank and black strapless bra. Around her neck hung a collection of gold plated necklaces, including an over-sized tooth that I too, own.
The Sounds started up their dance-bass, synth heavy, rock infused gig a decade ago and are still kickin’ it all across the world today. Their latest tour was opening up for No Doubt. This time around as the headliner, their new CD, Crossing the Rubicon, is the star of the show.
The disgustingly emo Shiny Toy Guns opened, plus a couple other out of style goth creeps with asymmetrical bleached/pastel colored hairs, lots of eyeliner and skin and bones for bodies. Knowing this ahead of time, we had margaritas at the bar and waited for the whiney kids to pack up.
Two hours later, a sweaty Ms. Ivarsson minus the jacket and song after glorious electro-pop song, The Sounds had won me over. My girlfriend was quite pleased with the performance and therefore also with me for hooking us up with tickets. I win!
A few more photos:
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Tagged: Electropop, Sweedish music, The Sounds, The Warfield
The Raveonettes released their fourth full-length album “In and Out of Control” this month, and beneath the layers of addicting ’50s summer-pop hooks and ’60s surf guitar, they’ve managed to bake a completely contradictory subject matter into their outwardly optimistic sound: suicide, rape, drug addiction and other harsh realities.
Sune Rose Wagner, the male half of the Danish rock duo, calls the new album “A big fuck you … to the bad people. But no one person in particular.”
“In and Out of Control” is filled with incredibly straightforward, literal lyrics pertaining to hard issues. The track “Boys Who Rape” is ridiculously catchy: cool, galloping drums, static synth, a rad guitar solo and irresistible, harmonized vocals. When you actually start to mouth the lyrics, “Boys who rape should be destroyed,” the emotion it provokes is harder to pinpoint.
“Last Dance” is a dreamy rock track with a similar effect. Twinkling chimes dust a caramel-smooth chorus that would inspire thoughts of high school prom, not a nasty drug habit. “Every time you overdose, I rush to intensive care,” the Raveonettes sing. “If this is the last dance, then save it for me, baby.”
“This album is inspired by ourselves or people we know — we’ve got friends who have been raped or committed suicide,” Wagner says matter-of-factly. “Everyone knows someone and we’re just like everyone else.”
The Raveonettes formed in 2001 with a stylish, minimalist take on post-punk, modernizing elements from classic role models like the Ronettes, Buddy Holly and Gene Vincent. “In and Out” is a glossier version of the Raveonettes’ previous albums, with less reverb and more polished production. Wagner and his musical other half, Sharin Foo, had no idea what to expect when heading into the project. With zero songs prepared and just more than a month of studio time, the Raveonettes say they came out with a product that surpassed their expectations.
“I didn’t think it was going to be that good,” Wagner says. “We had six weeks to write, record and mix. We had no plans. No nothing. It was crazy.”
Wagner strayed from his usual songwriting habits, generally penning four to five new songs per day. Whether he’s at the museum checking out a Jackson Pollock painting or catching a creative wave from someone on the street, Wagner says he can find a song in nearly everything.
“The world is full of inspiration. I never understood people who say they can’t write songs. It’s all around you, all day.”
Time constraints and pressure from their record company meant less direct inspiration for songs on “In and Out,” Wagner says. “We were just firing away and didn’t have time to think of anything too specific. Play it now. Do it now. There was no time for ‘I’ll think about it.’”
But surprisingly, Wagner says he enjoyed the process. “Spontaneity is underestimated. People don’t think of it as good craftsmanship, but it’s just another way we can create.
Check out The Raveonettes online:
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Tagged: First Ave, Raveonettes, Ronettes, Sharin Foo, Sune Rose Wagner
These Are Powers are a super rad, experimental group from Brooklyn, NY who showed up to play a sweet little gig in a random Oakland room. Yes, room. Not a venue or even a basement. Just a mid-sized room at 21 Grand, a mere walk from my current homestead and well worth the trouble.
We took my Yamaha Vino to the gig and after four rounds of circling the neighborhood, our friends spotted the place while on foot. We pulled up the hog and parked it in front of the dumpster. In the spirit of all things Oakland, we hit up the local convenient store for a brown paper bag’s worth of booze. Tonight we chose a classier brew, the always delicious Stella.
21 Grand was also home to an accordian shop
Anna Barie of These Are Powers
The band started off with a bunch of reverb and tons of noise. It was ridiculously dark and loud. We chugged our first beers as I attempted to get shots of the group without blinding the mass of East Bay hipsters. The show was put on by Club Sandwich, a local collective that puts on killer independent, all-ages shows and provides sandwiches in ziplocks for those who came hungry for more than just music. They sold out of the snacks before I could snap a photo…
These Are Powers impressed the crowd with nothing more than their legit musical powers: no special lighting, dancing or even a stage. They were good and I loved that I was able to enjoy them for under $10 and in a room with less than 75 people in attendance. Screaming, extremely rapid drum playing and kick-ass beats made the quick set melt into a sweaty puddle on the faux Persian rugs.
The three amigos of These Are Powers looked good, even with post-show sweat beads.
As well as some notable fashionistas in the audience…
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Tagged: 21 Grand, Club Sandwich, Oakland, These Are Powers
By Amber Schadewald in SF Weekly Music Awards Fri., Oct. 16 2009
Check out the original article here: www.SFWeekly.com
Colorful music performances, gold plated awards and a room full of buzzed musicians and paper employees made for a wild night at the 20th annual SF Weekly Music Awards. The night alternated between recognizing the best of the best in the Bay Area’s music scene and making use of Ruby Skye’s huge dance floor.
Host Alex Koll, comedian and local air guitar champion, started out the night with liquor jokes and references to his Biblical hairstyle, noting the difficulty of being a “comedian at the music show.” Presenters took over the stage, including performer, Wallpaper, who announced the “nomineezes” and then winners for the Soul/R&B/Funk category. An impromptu drummer hopped up on stage to pound out a drum roll, while still on his cell phone. “Best Club Night” winner, Sweater Funk, took the stage with their entire posse, and attempted to play a ringtone as part of their acceptance speech. Unfortunately the song was fuzzy beyond recognition.
A few more vodka drinks and whole lot of drum and bass from local performance crew, Loco Bloco, livened up the venue with a mix of African, Caribbean, Brazilian and contemporary Hip Hop rhythms. People ventured onto the dance floor to booty shake and jump alongside the lively act, increasing the room’s energy level 100 percent. A dancer on stilts dazzled the crowd, high kicking and swinging her body as if the wooden extensions were merely her own long limbs.
drum crew
drummer boy
The final set of presenters received loud cheers and Electronic/DJ winner, Lazer Sword, rallied up the crowd with “big ups to the Mission” and “hot dogs.” Indie winner, Girls, sent in a troop of giggly, barely legal young ladies to accept their gold award, who said only, “We’re the girls of The Girls–Thank you.”
Wallpaper took over the mic with a glittery red cape, fedora and sunglasses, starting out his bizarrely entertaining set with a rendition of Biggie Smalls’ hit, “I Love It When You Call Me Wallpaper.” The dance floor was overrun with excited bodies who enjoyed the purposefully cheap-version of Justin Timberlake, toting songs about getting wasted, cheap booze and sex. The gigantic screen behind Wallpaper’s glittery blazer flashed images of old educational movies and a mixed bag of interesting text. The night concluded with a DJ set by Lazer Sword and a packed house of club goers.
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No shy fellows here!
I had been fair warned about San Francisco’s population of kinky bastards, but wowowowowow. Welcome to the city, Midwestern newbies and hello to wrinkled, caged, punished, sagging, blushing, cumming penises in every direction. A few tits were in the mixed crowd, but I’d say the vast majority of the Folsom Street Fair on September 27 were leather daddies with dirty desires.
Only thing this suit leaves to the imagination is, Why?
Sheer mesh and white ass
I closed my eyes a few times, completely flabbergasted and sometimes blushing from embarrassment at the sights I was seeing on the naked streets. People were literally walking around with zero clothes. Would this happen in Minnesota? No. Not even close. This year marked the 25th anniversary of the Folsom Street Fair and I’m pretty sure this leather extravaganza will delight a whole new crowd of folks for years to come…i mean, cum.
Weighted old man junk
this little piggy went under the sheets
Genders Not Nessecary
I wore my friend Rick’s top hat. Rick wore another. My woman sported a drunk smile. Claire whipped as many exposed butt cheeks as possible. Tegan the dog was confused and scared my the number of humans wearing dog collars.
naughty me
baby girl tried to get in the spirit of things
bendover....now.
At least everyone was super friendly….
spankings allllll around
spunky older man
identity? no thanks.
I really enjoyed the “Human Pet” booth- if only I would have known they were human ‘pets’ before I asked where the puppies were….I mean, I did see empty kennels…and bones…oh, ew.
he could wag this "tail"
And this lady’s ass….
are you an ass (wo)man?
look closely...caged penis
this man eventually put on a mask, jacked off and came into the street below
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The legend. The mess. And my guilty pleasure/ R&B hottie.
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