...for those who want to be extra-afraid of Coco....

By COCO HAMES

The computer game The Sims was released in the spring of 2000, the same year I left for my first semester at the University of Florida.  I am an unapologetic Luddite, so when I received this game for my birthday, I figured I'd never play it.  How very wrong I was.  Nine years later, it is still the only game on my computer, and I am still involved.  With the original.  I've been told new versions have come on the scene, but they don't interest me, mostly because I can't be bothered to learn new technology.  I barely use a telephone.  These "apps" you speak of intrigue me, but I wouldn't know the first thing about using one.

When I write songs, as I'm currently expected to, as we're working on our third album, I have to have complete privacy.  I have to be completely alone.  So everyone knows, when Coco gets her Sims out and nestles down into bed, she'll be infuriatingly impossible to reach for a day or two, but my time in the Sims k-hole will yield, usually, about two or three new songs.

It's not just that I enjoy building houses, furnishing them, designing landscaping, and controlling everyone's every move.  It's not just that I have all of the original expansion packs, so my Sims are wizards, animals, and movie stars.  There are stories.  There are lives!  There are long running undercurrents of love, loss, frustration, anxiety, and despair.  Sim neighbors gaze upon Sim neighbors and lament never making a move before the mustachioed doctor got married, etc.

One of the most intriguing story lines running through my current Sims world is that of Rome Bidgert.  And yes, part of the fun is naming them.  Rome is a simple, time traveling conduit of magical energy, placed in these modern times, currently in the form of a big black guy with an eye patch.  Luckily, there exists a magical village where the magic-at-heart can get away from all mod cons and go shopping for dragon scales and participate in wizard duels.  It was in this very magical village that Rome heard tell of a strange cat, a stray that had wandered into town and been picked up by -- who else! -- the Sim community's most powerful wizard, Charles Moribund.

Rome made his way to Charles' home and knew, from the very moment he laid eyes on the cat, that it wasn't a cat at all, but the age old time traveling spirit of the legendary witch Minuit!  Rome convinced Charles to cast a spell on the cat, a spell which would restore it to its true form, that of a tall, pale mocha skinned woman.  Charles was reluctant, but cast the spell, and lo and behold, the cat turned into an elegant, bespectacled lady: Minuit!

Initially, Minuit was confused and cagey; she didn't know where she was or who the people were around her.  Rome left Charles' house discouraged, but hopeful that Minuit would return to herself in time.  But Charles -- being the experienced and resourceful Sim wizard that he is -- brewed her a strong potion that inverted her personality, and Minuit instantly remembered who she was!  BUT THEN!  When Rome returned on a visit to check up on her that she recognized the soul of the love of her life, deep behind Rome's eyes, the eyes that had of course instantly recognized his beloved Minuit in the guise of a stray feline.  Um, eye.  Because of the eye patch. . 

So now Rome and Minuit live together in a compound on the edge of the magical forest where they raise children and send them off to magical "military" school one by one to form a dark army in preparation for the battles they know are coming.

Poni says I can't go near the World of Warcraft.

*****

Blurt "co-co-editor" Coco Hames fronts The Ettes - Hames on guitar, Jem Cohen on bass and Poni Silver on drums - whose latest album Look At Life Again Soon (Take Root) is still a hot item-but look out for a new EP, Danger Is, on April 7 (already out digitally, www.myspace.com/theettes), and a Dan Auerbach-produced limited-edition single this month. They tore it up at the Hold Steady showcase At SXSW in Austin, by the way. The real Austin, not the Sims-world Austin.

As always, the idea is that what unites us is more than music, an axiology that extends from the music to our music-lover lifestyles: how we vote, what we drive, what we eat, what we wear, etc. The point is, we’re a tribe connected by vibe… hence, this month’s compendium: 1. Nerdcore [...]

A Triple-A radio programming veteran, Kate has served as Music Director of the Loft at XM, Midday Host at WYEP, Evening Host at both WNCS and WUIN, as well as Content Supervisor for Pump Audio. Currently, she's the CEO of Outlandos Music, a new-music discovery service for grown-ups. Kate has been nationally recognized for her ardent presentation of music and her ability to champion talented, compelling artists.

By Martin Bisi


On the way to an event last night called "Dances Of Vice," I was planning this blog post about irony, and trying to define the different possible threads of irony in music.
 
So the event is themed, with most people in Victorian or fantasy clothing, and all the musical performances involve cellos, violins, and harps - everything very baroque. I walk to the side of the stage and I see a Flying V guitar. I think, OMG, how ironic ! The Flying V is a staple of hard rock/metal -almost the opposite of what the event was about. Then i see a capo clipped to the guitar. (A capo is a common accessory of folk music, and metal guitarists as a rule will not use them.) So the irony pleasure-center in my brain goes into double, triple overload. I ask the people around me about the guitar, excitedly pointing out the irony. The guitarist (for performer Fern Knight) is somehow summoned, and he says "don't see one of those (a capo), on a Flying V too often, huh". I think that might have been a first in history actually.

 So that's almost a textbook definition of irony - something being in a context outside of how it's normally defined. But something about our use of the word with music, has always suggested to me the assumption that it was a new phenomenon.
 
The first time I was confronted with the issue of irony, was in the very early days of 80s indie rock, around the time I was recording bands like Live Skull and Sonic Youth. A friend of mine who specialized in Middle Eastern string instruments, and worked with Bill Laswell, said to me disparagingly: "there's a whole lot of irony going on" —in reference to indie rock. I thought he meant that elements, primarily lyrics, were going into the music for the sake of being funny. I'm sure you can find funny songs in every culture. And all cultures have at least 2 distinct musical disciplines - sacred, and social music. In social, popular music -music for the people- you will have had humor, for as long as people had a sense of humor. So maybe when a type of humor in music is old and established, we just wouldn't call it ironic. Somehow Johnny Cash singing "A Boy Named Sue", or "I killed a man in Reno.." isn't ironic, but Sonic Youth singing "We're gonna kill the California girls.." is. (And that's ironic in itself)

The other type of irony is using an instrument or method that is normally considered bad, and suggesting that it's actually good, and doing it consciously. The way I just described it, you'd think we'd encourage that, and we do - when it works. But when it doesn't work, we can dismiss it as a fad, or a pointless, vacuous attempt at irony. So when you add a kazoo solo in a rock song you're ironic, but when you add distorted guitar to polka beats it could be the record of the year - hello Gogol Bordello.
 
Very recently, I threw the irony card at someone. I said to Amanda Palmer (from Dresden Dolls) who has been doing more songs on ukulele, that the ukulele was an "ironic instrument". I asked: "where is the Jimi Hendrix of ukulele ?"—"why hasn't Philip Glass composed for ukulele ?". For those who've missed this, using a ukulele has been falling into a sub-genre called Steam Punk - people with a punk attitude who use non-electric instruments, such as one would find during the time of steam engines. (Can I write irony in all caps here ?) Well innovation wouldn't be innovative, if it made sense to everyone at first, and what if the steam-punks prove punk doesn't need loud guitar ? A little more time might tell.

 I've suggested that traditional music is insulated from being thought of as having irony. Same holds for so-called serious music. In my young engineering years, I worked with Fred Frith who is a notable avant garde innovator, viewed by many as serious. He once said to me: "sometimes when music is really good, it's funny". And Frith is well known for laughing copiously during sessions. I think it's because of the combinations of things he would try—and when they'd sound good to him, it was like the irony in a good joke.

I think if he had found that the right choice in a piece of music was a Flying V guitar with a capo on it, he would have laughed his ass off.

Martin Bisi is an American producer and songwriter. Visit him at www.myspace.com/theendcredits.
 

THE MOON MAN CONNECTION

In the late '70s, disco video was all the rage. TV programs such as Kicks, Hot City, and Soap Factory Disco marred the broadcast airwaves. As long as folks had the desire to celebrate their beautiful brawn on the set of some sleazy soundstage, the ecstasy prevailed and became perfect visual wallpaper for the winking TV eye.

But for sheer spunk, no disco program ever approached Moon Man Connection which I first experienced on UHF Channel 20 in Washington DC. This low-cost program was visual wallpaper so extreme that its very insubstantiality became hypnotic.

Filmed in a rat-infested basement, Moon Man opened with a blast from an echo chamber. Ten years after Neil Armstrong strolled on the moon, Mr. Moon Man milked the scratched footage of the NASA moonwalk, splicing it in at random intervals. Moon Man was a true trash auteur from Scuzzville.

Moon Man's backdrop scenery was a moonscape painted on cardboard sprinkled with glitter and Day-Glo.  Compared to other disco programming of this era, Moon Man's dance floor seemed nearly vacant; the dancers, puppets on Sleep-eze. Tipsy camera angles, cheap simulcasting, color filters, "psychedelic lighting"-all combined to create the best example of dope TV ever made.

After months of indulging in Moon Man Connection, I began to notice several similarities between supposedly different episodes:

--Moon Man always seemed to play the same ten records (he was the only cat who ever misspelled Rod Stewart as "Rot Stuart")

--The regular dance sequence, where couples are paired according to their astrological signs (to the strains of Danny Pearson's "What's Your Sign?"), always featured the same couple.

--Every time the dancers did the "Moon Walk" (which could only be performed to a Bohannon record), it was the same bunch.

Finally, I realized that, not only did Moon Man Connection contain similar sequences merely rearranged for each show, but that it was actually the same show repeated endlessly! (Boy, Moon Man, what a card!)

Nothing could explain the Moon Man phenomenon at a time when disco video supplied an endless stream of visuals illustrating the physical dynamics of going tapioca with one's limbs. I mean, Moon Man-and his whole stupid show-just sat there.

Hey, Moon Man!  How bout that...he got away with something!! Give him a hand or a hand job or whatever you wanna do....the guy deserves it.

BUT HERE'S THE OTHER PERSPECTIVE FROM THE INNER DC CONNECTION:
What a trashy review from a true playa hater...

Moonman provided the ‘real connection' that was missing from the hyped Soul Train broadcast. The so-called ‘endless repeat of shows' was genius, and I laugh... LOL.

You misrepresent information of a genre of Go-Go Playas (not gender specific) who know the truth about Channel 20 and The Moonman Connection. They funked and rocked old school and new beats and rhymes without fail. Perhaps your town could only afford to pay for cut and pasted shows... In D.C., it was real and they dealt funk on a regular.

I watched the show comfortably in my B-More attic (The Playas Clubhouse), with no less than room fulla honeys and some Espirit. The dancers were a bit repetitive, but they danced like no other place, except for maybe a house party.
D.C. and B-More are cousins down south (south of the Big Apple)...we are not ashamed of our funk and you will never find us spinning on our heads or swimming out of water. We funk, we rock, we connect.

To all the playas back in the day, I gotchya back!

Moonman, thanks brother... Thank you for keepin' it real.

Good lord, perhaps the longest week of my life. It's kind of like camp. With no sleep. And lots of drinking. Predominant thoughts for me this year were: 1. Ach, my back is killing me... who knew that a top-tier hotel like the Driskill would have the worst beds ever. I slept on the floor all week. 2. Where is Glasvegas playing? (I saw them three times. Super-fan alert!) 3. Crap, I forgot to eat [...]

A Triple-A radio programming veteran, Kate has served as Music Director of the Loft at XM, Midday Host at WYEP, Evening Host at both WNCS and WUIN, as well as Content Supervisor for Pump Audio. Currently, she's the CEO of Outlandos Music, a new-music discovery service for grown-ups. Kate has been nationally recognized for her ardent presentation of music and her ability to champion talented, compelling artists.

Stop her if you've heard the one about John Mayer and the red umbrella before....

By COCO HAMES

Once in New York, at Mercury Lounge, we played a show with our friends the Friggs, and during soundcheck, the engineer goes, "Oh, by the way, John Mayer is doing a secret set after your show."  And we were like, "Why?" And the always friendly engineer said, "He does that sometimes."  So we said, "Okay, well... he'll be saddling up on the butt-end of a raucous punk rock night, but whatever."

It was an awesome show, Debbie Harry was there, Little Steven Van Zandt was there, and we brought our new album to the mean streets of the LES. And I say mean streets because some punk ass teenagers decided to use some Bond-level pneumatic lock exploder to break into the van, but guess what, morons?  If the band is in the venue, PROBABLY so is their gear.  Idiots.

As it goes, I didn't MEAN to heckle John Mayer, but it kind of, like, happened.  I mean, for the most part, I don't really have a problem with him or people like him. They suck and are super boring, but I don't, like, sit around fuming with hatred for them. I just don't listen to their music. I carry on with my struggle-to-get-up-in-the-morning-demons-are-out-to-get-me-trichotillomaniacal-Franzia-soaked-punk-rock life, etc.

But what a douchebag! He just kept telling these boring twatty stories, and I'm like, dude, you are on another planet, no one here has a sailboat, what the hell are you talking about?  What is this? 

Back in my solo country days, a boyfriend once told me not to tell boring twatty stories up on the mic, and while he was a total dick and READ MY DIARY, it's advice I've pretty much adhered to, because I don't know about everybody else, but I don't go see a show to hear your holy boring self-important stories unless you're Bob Dylan. And John Mayer is not Bob Dylan.

So he gurbled into the mic, "Let me give you some advice..." and I couldn't help myself, it just slipped out, I said, "Please don't..." and I was cracking up. I was like, whoops that was loud, that always happens to me, I am always that guy, we should go back downstairs.  And he got totally flustered and was like, "Yeah, well... You're, like, you're a red umbrella in, like, a bunch of black umbrellas..." And this guy behind me shouted, "What does that even mean?"

I was just dying laughing. I was like, we gotta get out of here before I engage with John Mayer, I don't even care! Because you know, if I HAVE to fight someone I will, trouble and I are just good friends, but in general, I'd rather not.  Or I would... I just thought it was so funny!  I'm like, dude, if what you're going for is, like, a red umbrella in a bunch of black umbrellas means I stand out because I'm not like your fans, or anyone else in the room, I mean... you're right?  Thanks for the propers?

Anyway, my friends kept egging me on to keep hassling him, but I -- being super smart and savvy -- said, "Y'alls, I know people like him, and they ALWAYS travel with bodyguards, especially when they go slumming, and I really can't deal with bodyguards." 

So they called me a wimp, but as John Mayer slummed his way out past my merch booth -- big black bodyguards fore and aft -- I still win!

*****

Blurt "co-co-editor" Coco Hames fronts The Ettes - Hames on guitar, Jem Cohen on bass and Poni Silver on drums - whose latest album Look At Life Again Soon (Take Root) is still a hot item-but look out for a new EP, Danger Is, on April 7 (already out digitally, www.myspace.com/theettes), and a Dan Auerbach-produced limited-edition single this month. And catch ‘em at SXSW, too.

Day 2 for me here in Austin, surviving fairly painlessly thus far. Let's just say that the interactive folks are perhaps a little less wild and crazy then the music crowd. Case in point, this year's festival goodie bags: Highlight item in the interactive bag, a mysterious petite blue keychain-sweat sock --- in the music bag, let's cut straight to the chase [...]

A Triple-A radio programming veteran, Kate has served as Music Director of the Loft at XM, Midday Host at WYEP, Evening Host at both WNCS and WUIN, as well as Content Supervisor for Pump Audio. Currently, she's the CEO of Outlandos Music, a new-music discovery service for grown-ups. Kate has been nationally recognized for her ardent presentation of music and her ability to champion talented, compelling artists.

¡Eso Si Que Es!: On Gloria Estefan and wearin' someone else's socks.

By COCO HAMES

Almost Anything for You

When I first moved to LA, I got a job singing backup vocals on karaoke tracks. I'd go into the studio, the guy would tell me which track we were doing, and I'd sing the song.  We'd record one side of me singing all the vocal tracks (lead and backup) and one side of just the backup. When you sing karaoke and some random ghost harmonies come out of nowhere, that's the backup vocal track. 

So one day, we were set to do Gloria Estefan's "Anything For You," and it was completely out of my range. I tried singing it low, and then high, and I just couldn't do it! I didn't want to lose the job, so I kept asking to start over, but the killer part was the "...you know you made me strong!" I absolutely couldn't hit it.

And so, I did lose the job. But next time you're singing karaoke and you hear some prerecorded vocal accompaniment coming in, it could be me, singing along.

Socks

Because we don't have a lot of time or money on the road, and because Poni and I wear almost the same size shoe, we get our socks in bulk. Usually at Target, usually just functional white sports socks. And invariably, when we do laundry, whether at a friend's house or in a hotel bathtub, the socks will get mixed up. Same socks, same amount of usage but, at the same time, we always know when we're wearing the other's socks. 

It's not a good feeling. It's disquieting and disconcerting to know, in your heart of hearts, that the socks you have on are not your socks.

*****

Blurt "co-co-editor" Coco Hames fronts The Ettes - Hames on guitar, Jem Cohen on bass and Poni Silver on drums - whose latest album Look At Life Again Soon (Take Root) is still a hot item-but look out for a new EP, Danger Is, on April 7 (already out digitally, www.myspace.com/theettes), and a Dan Auerbach-produced limited-edition single this month. And catch ‘em at SXSW, too.

The Moody Blues: when did they get hip? Are they hip? When did I get hip to them?

As a young rock'nroll guy we all just assumed that these guys were total squares, and were instinctively dismissive. When your musical world is bracketed by Alice Cooper on one side and The Allman Brothers on the other, it's easy to make those kind of judgments about anyone whose ambitions we couldn't comprehend. So, other than occasionally hearing "Nights in White Satin" or "Ride My See-Saw" on the radio, I tuned out The Moody Blues for a few decades or so.

Somewhere along the recent way I ended up with three releases from their golden era of the late 60s, Days of Future Past, On The Threshold of a Dream and In Search of the Lost Chord. It was revelation time. The revelation was, essentially, how intoxicating the Moodies could be at their best, while still being a bit wanky or fussy at other times. Most of side two of Days of Future Past is seductive, although  "Nights in White Satin" is a little creepy, and side one is overburdened with concept and too much of The London Festival Orchestra. On The Threshold of a Dream has several terrific songs, a lovely psychedelic cover (all 3 of these have great covers) and an impressive display of mustached sartorial splendor on the inner sleeve. But the capper was In Search of The Lost Chord; specifically side one of 1968's In Search of The Lost Chord.
 
These five tracks and the mood-setting spoken intro are top-shelf late 1960s British egg-head psych pop. This is heady stuff: cosmologically romantic, richly evocative and other-worldly. Along with the sophisticated arrangements and dreamy vocals, the sweetener that makes all the difference is the mellotron that Mike Pinder and Justin Hayward used to evoke that lovely, imagistic other-worldliness. Remember the mellotron, the lush, symphonic sounding cross between an organ and an early synthesizer? It was uniquely suited to the Moodies forte. Other than the Moody Blues and the Rolling Stones on "20,000 Light Years From Home," early King Crimson were probably the most well known act (that I can remember) to use it liberally, and it was quickly eclipsed by the more versatile synthesizer. But here on "House of Four Doors," "Legend of a Mind" with it's "Timothy Leary's theory" refrain, "The Best Way to Travel" from side 2 and other tracks, The Moody Blues succeed at creating or portal to another dimension in sound, a doorway to step back and forth between worlds through. This is tricky to pull off, and if they don't always succeed, at least they always aim high and seem honest and thoughtful.

Even at their most sublime The Moody Blues have The Academy wafting off them like tweedy pipe smoke. Perhaps they got together in art school, like so many other British bands of the 60s? But while the Rolling Stones, The Who and The Kinks would have been slumming it and ditching school, The Moodies would have been the serious, probably older guys who dressed up not down, had steady girlfriends, read music, rehearsed like mad and took it all seriously.
Visual clues to that end show in the inner sleeve of On The Threshold of a Dream. Other British bands at the time were preening in rock star boots and loud shoes from from Carnaby Street or King's Row, but the five guys in the Moody Blues, dressed to kill in leather jackets and tasteful dark velvet, are all sporting shiny loafers. With buckles. Expensive, stylish loafers, for sure, but still loafers. The loafer wearing Moody Blues didn't seem dangerous or revolutionary or any threat to the status quo back in the day; perhaps our parents might even have liked them. Well, I still like Alice Cooper (and Black Flag and Sonic Youth and Smegma), but it sure was a relief to grow up and out and be open to anything across the board, regardless of the strict dictates (as we perceived them) of rock'nroll, which now looks more restrictive and status quoted than the adventurous, tuneful  psychedelia of The Moody Blues. Or maybe that was just adolescence predictably throwing an elbow into the ribs of middle age, because that's what adolescence does.

And, just as I'm finishing this I'm listening to On The Threshold of a Dream and thinking that it might be as good as In Search of The Lost Chord. It's still revelation time. 

Carl Hanni is a music writer, music publicist, disc jockey and vinyl archivist living in Tucson, AZ. He  hosts the vinyl-only Scratchy Record Show every Tuesday night at the Red Room in downtown Tucson, and spins records wherever and whenever he can. He believes that in a better (all analog) world all records would be released on vinyl, but takes good music from wherever he finds it--even on CD. His feature piece on legendary bass player/record producer Harvey Brooks was recently published in Goldmine.

a Youtube History of Black Flag, lineup x lineup:
There's been alot of Black Flag video uploaded in the last year.  Many of these clips are mislabelled or undated.  My information is corrected as best as possible given Spot hasn't written his book yet:

keith/greg/chuck/migdol, I Don't Care, probably wurm-hole, strand, hermosa bch, Dec. 1977
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=isLyhyK7kDY&feature=related

keith/greg/chuck/robo, White Minority, polliwog park, manhattan bch, July 22, 1979
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iIJEuMfBHZk&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7morSTRYVR0&feature=related

ron/greg/chuck/robo, Revenge, The Church, hermosa bch, Jan. 1980
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f5mjoN0SKoc&feature=related

dez/greg/chuck/robo, Padded Cell, mabuhay gardens, sf, Jan. 9, 1981
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jjm39HldqYk&feature=channel

henry/greg/dez/chuck/robo, Thirsty and Miserable, target video, sf, prob. Aug. 30, 1981
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aczKB1yUzAs&feature=related

henry/greg/dez/chuck/bill  no video found of bill stevenson filling in for three weeks after robo was not allowed back into the states. dec. 23, 1981 to march 5, 1982

henry/greg/dez/chuck/emil, What I See, eastside club, phi, June 4, 1982
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8oJp1MK8xrQ

henry/greg/dez/chuck/biscuits, I Can't Decide, Sept. 1, 1982, ritz, ny
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dzX4JfpsOLA

henry/greg/kira/bill, Rat's Eyes, Dec. 15, 1984, u.mass, amherst, ma
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NIctI25viWs

henry/greg/kira/anthony soundcheck Loose Nut/Annihilate, June 8, 1985, vic & bill's, knoxville, tn
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9-5PguvYJ3U

instro. greg/kira/anthony, untitled, prob. july 19, 1985 detroit tv:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmeg3HqBpRQ&feature=related

henry/greg/c'el/anthony, Gimme Gimme Gimme/Louie Louie, July 27, 1986, detroit, mi
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SydfD6paev8

greg interview by william duvall (comes the fall/AiC), fall 2008
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dkNUZNbJ9Ek

Joe Carducci is a hell of a writer, record producer, and former A&R executive, formerly most closely associated with the influential LA-based record label SST Records. His most recent book Enter Naomi: SST, L.A. and All That, chronicles his time at the infamous label and the life and death of famed SST photographer Naomi Peterson--a supreme talent who I had the priveledge of working with on many occasions--and whose laugh I still miss. -Scott Crawford