Have been superoutrageously ill for the past week or so; think 103-degree temperatures, buckets sloshing with greyish excretions, sacks full of phantasmagorical, mind-expanding (and/or cough-suppressing) prescription medicines. I haven't gone through so many sweat-soaked bedclothes since my torrid affair with renowned fashion fucktard Bai Ling.
Anyway.
At the height of my delirium, Bill tricked me into doing a phone interview for something called "Blog Fresh Radio." Since I'd recently written something nice about someone British, I qualified! Hooray.
We spoke for about three and a half hours on matters both Bloggy and Fresh. I think I read aloud from Sir Gawain and the Green Knight for a good fifteen minutes, spent the next twenty-five apologizing for doing so. We discussed, in detail, every track Bob Wills ever set to tape with His Texas Playboys, arguing over the relative academic merits of "Ida Red Likes the Boogie" and "I'm a Ding Dong Daddy (From Dumas)." I gave him my complete dental history, my secret to a tasty burger, my PIN number. I told him three of the five things my father, on his death bed, made me swear I'd never tell anyone. I revealed the dark horrible thing I found in the woods when I was seven that changed me forevermore.
I crammed the word "virulent" into every-other sentence. I distinctly recall using the phrase "orange-scented dragon fahrts," tho' I'm unsure of the context. I basically blathered on until he cried, "Uncle!" Then, embarrassed I'd stumbled into some sort of family drama, I hung up.
Honestly, I've no idea what I spat out. I was off my gourd on prescription sweetmeats. But Bill edited whatever it was I said to make it sound as if I'd had ten seconds of something to say about Emmy the Great. Who's swell!
You can hear the results here. There's music, too, and other, more coherent people talking. When you get there, try and suggest a new name for the broadcast. "Blog Fresh" sounds about as appealing as "Gym Sock Ripe." Or "Ben Stiller's Funniest Movie."
Anyway, that's what I sound like when I've got an 103-degree fever and an upper respiratory infection and loop-inducing syrups. I know you've always wondered.
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I should also mention here that Emmy's got stuff you can buy at iTunes. I had some live mp3s up a short while back; you can find more via elbo.ws.
She's even got a myspace blog worth reading. "Myspace blog worth reading." A couple clown cars' worth of unlikelihoods, there.
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I'm shocked that Princeton-based WPRB doesn't get any bucks from the Ivy League University that houses it... but they don't, and they're holding their first ever Membership Drive. You should both give a little somethin-somethin, and listen to the station more often than you do (it's available online). It was a life-saver when I lived in Jersey; their mid-morning jazz show introduced me to Joe McPhee; they had a great weekend punk thing called "Hey You Kids Get Offa My Lawn."
Do help them chug along.
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I was too sick this weekend to make it up to Sharon Jones' show at the Apollo; waaaay too sick to stand in a field for the ArcadeFireLCDLesSavyFest on Randall's Island. But if I'd had my health and a travelin' jones, I think I would have tried to make it up to this (via Speed of Dark, who also has some mp3s).
Scarce's (myspace) Deadsexy was one of my favorite late-90's records, and there's a good chance I learned about it from this very broadcast:
The last song of the night on 120 Minutes was always a winner.
The CD's out of print, but it's one of those you can (and should) pick up used (and it's dirt cheap). Now that the band's back together, I'm looking forward to a new album and some more convenient tour dates.
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This new Tokyo Jihen CD (Goraku/Variety) may be their first very good one. Definitely worth your while. Dig around on the web and give it a spin before coughing up the import bucks.
Still nowhere near as good as Shiina Ringo's solo work. But then nothing really is.
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