The Armpit Rose

And like that, the internet's back on. How? Why? Those are questions for the fools that man the connection, that fess up to the bill collectors. Not us. I told y'all that I'd be on this thing like a recent college grad on his last tasteful taste of undergrad 'gina, now off to collar'd shirts besides "the stripey" (but plenty more of those, too) and paychex that tap directly into "the leer". You know the one. (Bitter much? Yup. Well... yup...) Word on the street is that buttoning the top button is the new popping the collar... get up on it but quick!

Oh, gosh. I don't feel like offering up music news tonight. I'm sorry. I have no analysis worth offering. My "recently played tracks" is mostly bases I've covered here, 'cept for some Pilate Navigator gush, which is good... but another time, another time... My fave reading lamp is burnt out and uses special bulbs that I haven't bothered to locate, 'cause to afford before next Friday would be to sacrifice the purchase of one last twelver of longnecks, and it is too nice out, friend. Wouldn'tcha think? Wouldn'tcha drink? Anyways, but between this and my home 'net having been down, well, I haven't even been massaging my tonearm for the past coupla few days. No, I've been wallowing in the upper level, where the A/C don't reach too well, trying, trying, to stay focused on goddam Gravity's Rainbow and what the goddam fuck do you literary types foist upon us. References to engineering parameters in the same 'graphs as violent sex? No-ones allowed to re-read my earlier classtype dazes off to me w/out my permissions, I'd hope. Anyways, I perhaps blame this lazy jumble on my chameleonic need to make awful attempts at either assimilating or being assimilated by, not sure which... onwards! To kill the goodwill!

No, for tonight... what? Murder in Madison? Done to deth. Ha! Already. No, not funny. I walk there too. But... kinda funny, in bad taste. Okay, fugginhell, fine... Music. News.

Shit.

First, I'd bet more than I know already, but I saw a sign thing for a Memorial Day skree sesh featuring some fine "Cali" boardshorts types. 'S a block away from my place. 'S a fuckin' soundclash! Make sure to fill up on burgers first, cooked or otherwise. Donate, 'cause I'll be too broke to! Swank.

Second, just a note on weird overlapping of things. I attended this Starbass event last Friday, the one that I mentioned a post or so back. In a generally unprecedented overlap of my dull-ass life (it only means that I'm boring) and the occassional bit of semi-meaningful media that I manage to consume (in this case Martin Clark's latest "Month in Grime/Dubstep", a/k/a "The only Pitchfork link worth clicking")... aside from dear "Franc", of course, who very frequently manages to scatter worthwhile twitters about that I can find some kinna connexion to... anyways, in this particular overlap, well... I realized the potential of that agressive nature of "the 'step" at this event. I mean, the stuff was pretty hard up in there. It was off-putting. Headspinning. I mean, I lurve Armour's "Iron Man" but perhaps when everything is fully beatmatched strung together and EQ'd into a massive steamroller of a thing... well... I mean, I don't think that's my thing. "Meditate on the bass weight" and all that, THAT I can abide. No slight against Mr. cutFucker et al. They def had a grand selection (though outta personal pref I'd rather not hear Mims for at least one evening, but hey)... 's just... I think I like this whole bastard-techno branch idea more 'n more... keep the weight, but reduce the urging of people to do spinkicks. Again, just personal pref. And spinkicks certainly do need doing, too! What I'm sayin'... shit... I dunno what I'm sayin.... okay, nuthin' doin'... this Lamborghini Crystal tape has got my head but GONE... sorry... dun...