Adios, Muchachos!

First off, all apologies for the scattershot posting schedule of late. Hey, it's summer. Travel. Excitement. You know how we do it.

Let me make it up to you with a gift:

Old Man Bites Tenderly (It's long, so if you get impatient, skip to the last 1:30 or so.)

Anyway, a brief weekend report is in order after a trip upstate to Skaneateles and a brief visit to nearby Syracuse for the New York State Fair. The Fair's catchphrase? "Just like you remember... and then some." Ohhhkaaaay. Much fun was had ($2.75 Labatt's Blue Light!!), and much fried food devoured. In fact, no one should attend the Fair without a) a cardiologist, or b) a portable defibrillator. Observe:


That's right... DEEP FRIED TWINKIES. Needless to say, strained waistbands were the norm. And then there was the Cuckoo Haus...


On Sunday The Walkmen played a free show at Brooklyn's McCarren Park Pool. It was quite probably the shittiest day of the summer, weatherwise, which ended up being a blessing. The hipster quotient, while formidable, was kept at a tolerable level by the rain. Asymmetrical haircuts react badly to water. Gray skies dulled the rampant irony. Also, it was possible to get really close to the stage, and the band's set, while brief, was fantastic. Note the dilapidated, Eastern-Bloc grimness of it all:


There is, however, a [very] bright side to this sudden spate of shitty summer weather: I'm leaving tonight for five days on the beach in Nicaragua. I will soon be riding sweet waves in San Juan del Sur, looking across the bay at Costa Rica. My immediate future consists of cold cerveza and hammocks. Eat shit, Tropical Depression Ernesto!

Talk atcha next week.

Science Update: The Blurry Thing in the Middle Is Not a Planet!

In a stunning upset, the International Astronomical Union voted to strip Pluto of planet status, citing diminuitive stature, the discovery of larger outlying objects, and erratic behavior in its decision. The nation's astronomy textbook industry is currently scrambling to adjust to the unexpected demotion, which leaves the soloar system with only eight official planets. In addition, the National Institute for Mnemonic Devices is scrambling to replace its suddenly unintelligible "My Very Educated Mother Just Served Us Nine." In a prepared statement, an NIMD spokesperson stressed that "without the 'Pizza' -- or the less-popular 'Planet' -- at the end of this time-honored mnemonic classic, America's children are left with no clear way of easily memorizing the planets or their relative proximity to the sun."

Upon hearing of the IAU decision, a distraught Pluto embarked upon what one witness called a "violent rampage," which came to a tragic end when the newly reclassified "dwarf planet" devoured a small bald child. A bystander managed to capture a photograph of the savage attack:


Early reports indicate that Pluto and a small group of other planetoids and minor celestial bodies, including UB313 (aka "Xena") and the asteroid Ceres, had been drinking heavily in anticipation of Thursday's IAU vote. The drinking binge, which had been characterized by behavior that witnesses referred to as increasingly "boisterous and abusive," apparently escalated out of control when a television above the Epcot Center's Around the World Bar and Grille carried news of the IAU decision.

Although Pluto was apprehended at the scene, official charges have yet to be filed. Representatives for both Pluto and the IAU were unavailable for comment.

Bitchfork Backlash: The 200 Greatest Songs of the 1960s, a Rejoinder... PART TWO, ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

Part Two of the *bitter defeat* response to Pitchfork's 200 Greatest Songs of the 1960s

B. The Songs (cont'd)

#98 The Zombies - "Care of Cell 44"
Combining Beach Boys harmonies and Kinks-style English pastoralism, the opening track from The Zombies' finest album is a kitchen-sink masterpiece. And well done including the song at all (let alone in the top 100), as it never charted on either side of the Atlantic. Another fine album-track selection.

#92 Nick Drake - "River Man"
Here's a challenge, o music critic: let's see you write about Nick Drake without using the words "chilling," "mournful," or "haunting." Like those of Ian Curtis and Elliott Smith, Drake's legacy is eternally saddled with the circumstances of his own death, lending lazy critics and would-be eulogizers an arsenal of readymade miserabilisms for every occasion. Thus is the beauty and, dare we admit it, optimism at the heart of so much of Drake's music constantly elided. That's probably why "Time Has Told Me" didn't get the nod on this list instead: morbitity makes more compelling copy.

#91 The Who - "Substitute"
While not the first Who song to truly capture my imagination (that, strangely, was "Goin' Mobile" off of Who's Next, which made me want to buy an RV and drive around for the rest of my life), "Substitute" brought with it my first realization that Pete Townshend was more than just the guy who wrote that opera about a traumatized pinball enthusiast. Before I ever knew what "mod" was, this song introduced the arch, adrenalized sneer of pissed-off lower-class kids with guitars. (This would later be labeled "punk," but rock-historical perspective was fairly remote from my 12-year-old existence.) Also, "I was born with a plastic spoon in my mouth"... Just fucking brilliant.

#85 Roy Orbison - "Crying"
Whence "In Dreams," P-fork?? If only for the Dean Stockwell lip-synch scene in Blue Velvet, that gorgeous, triple-crescendo lament for lost love deserves inclusion here. The string arrangements in the song's final section are nothing short of sublime.

#76 BBC Radiophonic Workshop - "Doctor Who (Original Theme)"
Now I know what I said about the inclusion of jazz and avant-garde music in this list. And I'm aware that this test-tone electronic mishmash could be considered left-field. But I don't care. I love this pick. Itself owing a debt to Louis and Bebe Barron's music for Forbidden Planet, the Doctor Who theme helped set the table for a whole slew of rock 'n' roll oddball moments. Including a little song called "Good Vibrations."

#65 The Mamas & the Papas - "California Dreamin'"
This song should probably have appeared higher on the list, and also brings us to the obvious question: Are these lists designed to drive people insane? Because with only 200 songs allowed, what happens to "Monday Monday" and "Creque Alley?"

#43 Vince Guaraldi Trio - "Linus & Lucy"
Oh by the sacred blood of Jesus Christ, give me a break. Get this motherfuckin' novelty pick off my motherfuckin' list.

#34 The Who - "The Kids Are Alright"
Complete bullshit this song being out of the top 10.

#32 Ennio Morricone - "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly (Main Theme)"
You know what I'm going to say. Iconic? Check. Brilliant? Check. A "song?" Hmmmm.

#31 Nico - "These Days"
Just a personal preference, but I think Nico's cover of Bob Dylan's "I'll Keep It With Mine" from the same album is far superior.

#26 The Beatles - "I Am the Walrus"
The larger issue of the Beatles songs on this list has already been broached, but this is clearly the most misguided selection. And it's especially egregious at #26. Not only are there several Beatles songs more deserving, compare this song to the next one on the list: "Paint It Black," at #25, isn't just a better song. It's in a completely different league. Put "She Said, She Said" in this spot instead, and watch as it all suddenly comes together. A list is like a living, breathing organism; without its parts working together in flow and harmony, it gets list cancer and dies of shittiness.

#21 The Beach Boys - "Good Vibrations"
I'm just shocked that this is number 21. I was totally convinced the P-forkers would put this at number one.

#16 The Stooges - "I Wanna Be Your Dog"
Considered solely in terms of what has transpired in this song's wake, a compelling (if, in the end, unconvincing) argument could be made for placing this in the top slot. For once, the P-fork staff's predilection for verbal sturm und drang can't overstate the song's significance. "Self-effacement," "numbed detachment," and good old fashioned nihilism run through this song like a collapsed vein. And let's not forget that this song rocks out with its cock(s) out. Just think about this: "I Wanna Be Your Dog" is the only song on the list that's still genuinely dangerous over thirty years later. Consider this in light of #11, Led Zeppelin's "Dazed and Confused," which is lauded as "the numbest, blackest, taking-the-least-possible-amount-of-shit track any rock band ever recorded." Uh, yeah. Iggy smeared himself with peanut butter and rolled around in broken glass. Robert Plant formed a band called The Honeydrippers. Time to reconsider your idea of what's scary.

#10 Desmond Dekker & The Aces - "Israelites"
Great song, but it wins the Jessica Tandy Award for death-induced plaudits. Does this song hit number 10 if Desmond Dekker is still alive today? Or even if he died three years ago? No, it does not. They must have started the list before Syd Barrett died, or "See Emily Play" would have been #11.

#4 Bob Dylan - "Like a Rolling Stone"
All things considered, this would have been my overall number one. I'm not a big Dylan fanatic, but in addition to the song's sheer aesthetic appeal, one has to admit its pure iconic force. Something about this song -- some sonic combination of rage, wit, sprawling scope, and ultimate lack of resolution -- invokes the decade itself, both as a grand, romantic ideal and as a massive cultural letdown. "Like a Rolling Stone" induces a kind of frisson born of shame, fear, elation, and hope. In short, this song is the sixties.

#2 The Jackson 5 - "I Want You Back"
Is a measured response to this choice even possible? To paraphrase Val Kilmer in Real Genius, "Have you found humor?" Here's the thing: this really is a fantastic song. The arrangements are a stone groove... especially those high, proto-disco strings. The mellow backing vocals are a perfect foil for Jacko's endocrine-starved lead. Hell, if this had appeared at number 20, it would have come across as a genius pick; unexpected and unfuckwitable. At number 2? It's just wrong. Bad. A joke. It comes across as a gross tabulation error redolent of graft and dimpled chads. A golden entry in the "What The Fuck?" file.

#1 The Beach Boys - "God Only Knows"
Well it is P-fork, so you knew it was going to involve Brian Wilson. Armed with this foregone conclusion, I would actually have preferred a lesser-known but more interesting Pet Sounds track like "I'm Waiting for the Day." Hey, what are you gonna do? It's a beautiful song. No one was going to be completely happy with the top ten anyway, so you gotta follow your heart and keep in mind that most of your readers love Neutral Milk Hotel and Sufjan Stevens. This was the safest play. You big wussies.

C. Omissions

Finally, I give you a [roughly chronological] list of some songs that were tragically, unfairly omitted from Bitchfork's end-all-be-all:

The Ventures - "Walk Don't Run" (1960)
Probably the most popular rock 'n' roll instrumental of all time. Certainly one of the best.

Petula Clark - "Downtown" (1964)
A little cheesy? Well sure, but there's a reason Pet Clark's practically considered royalty in the UK. Pure sugary gold!!

The Animals - "House of the Rising Sun" (1964)
Probably the most glaring slight on P-fork's list. Drama, a kickass story, a simple ascending-chord riff... and I'm pretty sure it's about a whorehouse! "Sunny Afternoon" is the best song to hear in a bar. This is the best song to sing in a bar.

Them - "Gloria" (1965)
The other candidate for "biggest omission." This is, after all, the most-covered song in rock 'n' roll history. There's a reason for that.

The Moody Blues - "Go Now" (1965)
I just like this song. It's genuinely tortured and sad. Really fun to belt out in the shower, and utterly shocking when considered against the band's later descent into proggy self-importance.

The Small Faces - "Itchycoo Park" (1967)
The year before they released the psych-rock classic Ogden's Nut Gone Flake, the Small Faces brought forth the ultimate mod/hippie hybrid tune. "It's all too beautiful!"

Aretha Franklin - "Dr. Feelgood" (1967)
Aretha's sexiest song ever... by far. Basically it's about Aretha not needing anything else because her guy provides her with frequent orgasms. Queen of Soul gets freakynaughty.

Cream - "Sunshine of Your Love" (1967)/"Badge" (1969)
I couldn't decide. "Sunshine"'s deep, descending riff and ungodly (or Clapton-Is-Godly) solos are the stuff of supergroup legend, but the barroom piano and lyrical artistry of "Badge" (co-written by George Harrison) is possibly the band's pinnacle achievement.

Jimi Hendrix - "Crosstown Traffic" (1968)
I just love this goddamn song. And anyone who lives in New York City can attest to its metaphoric heft.

Dusty Springfield - "Windmills of Your Mind" (1969)
This version, from Dusty in Memephis, may not appear in The Thomas Crowne Affair, but it's certainly the definitive rendition. The song's imagery is vintage sixties, incorporating overwrought similies and the then-in-vogue language of psychotherapy. And Dusty builds from slow-and-smoky to almost hysterical. Far out cocktail-party music for hip moms and dads.

Bitchfork Backlash: The 200 Greatest Songs of the 1960s, a Rejoinder

"Backlash" is actually far too strong a word. In fact, in terms of ambition and, more importantly, scope, Pitchfork's list of the best songs of the 1960s is pretty damn strong. To begin with, looking beyond singles to include album tracks and some left-field stuff was a stroke of genius. Naturally, singles still predominate because a) that was still the primary mode of music publishing right up through the latter half of the decade, and b) they couldn't very well pick songs no one had ever heard of before. (I mean if anyone is going to bend over backwards to jock the obscure and the esoteric it's P-fork, but in this case they considered cultural impact alongside strict aesthetic considerations. Thank Christ.) In other words, you've heard most these songs, which is good, but you haven't heard all of them, which is great. Yet admirable and entertaining as the list may be, it is by its very nature flawed. Humans, after all, are fallible. Quantitative analyses of items whose very essence is rooted in subjective experience is just plain stupid. So what's the point?

Lists are fun.

Now the *bitter defeat* obsession with lists is well documented. (An obsessive immersion in an inherently obsessive-compulsive practice... yikes.) And a list of songs offers the ideal opportunity to nitpick, argue, and (hopefully) initiate an enlightened debate because of the added distance from the near-canonical reception of the album as self-contained and oft-curated Art Object. (As I've gotten older, I have returned to the childhood obsession with songs. This is due in part to the proliferation of mp3 files as the predominate method for sharing music, but it's primarily the result of my finally shedding the high-school-bedroom idea that only albums are capable of containing truly coherent artistic statements. This idea, of course, is utter horseshit.)

Anyway, making my own list of the 200 best songs of the 1960s, while tempting, just seems too damn involved. So instead I'm gonna go through their list and pick out the most notable entries. And here "notable" can mean anything from dead-on great to good-but-misguided to give-me-a-fucking-break. Also, any non-Music Geeks out there who haven't stopped reading already... you should probably stop now. You're undoubtedly missing something really catty and hilarious over at Go Fug Yourself or Gawker.

A. General Observations

1. To begin with, the folks at Pitchfork really love the Supremes. Like, it's a good thing they added a maximum of five songs per band, because I think otherwise all 12 of the Supremes' number-one singles would be on this thing.

2. The inevitable Beatles discussion: No Beatles songs appear until #58 ("I Wanna Hold Your Hand"), and the final choices are... interesting. "A Day in the Life" places highest (at #5), which is fine, even obvious, but the other selections ("Eleanor Rigby," "I Am the Walrus," and "Tomorrow Never Knows") reveal the continued P-fork obsession with experimentation and psych-rock. Now debating over the best Beatles song is like arguing over the world's most delicious food (i.e., pointless), but in the end the Beatles' real impact was in the realm of pop. In other words, their best songs were the great Lennon/McCartney pop-rock songs. People formed weirdo bands because they heard the Velvet Undergroud, Frank Zappa, Captain Beefheart, and Pink Floyd, not because "Tomorrow Never Knows" had a goddamn backwards sitar solo. The feedback at the beginning of "I Feel Fine" was revolutionary, sure, but that's not why the band sold gajillions of albums worldwide. The rest of "I Feel Fine" is why the band sold gajillions of albums worldwide. The Beatles gave us Big Star, XTC, and Blur. So why don't we just admit that, just maybe, songs like "Help," "She Said, She Said," and "Day Tripper" reveal far more about both the band's contribution to rock music and the decade as a whole. Oh, by the way, they're also better songs.

3. The inevitable (with P-fork, anyway) Beach Boys discussion. Actually, there's not much to say here. They picked great Beach Boys songs. Unfortunately, they left out what I would argue is not only the most important Beach Boys song, but a song that belongs firmly in the overall top five. Given the long shadow cast by Pet Sounds, it's easy to understand the band's earlier music getting overlooked, but no song predicted the sonic precision and obsessive perfectionism of the band's later material better than "I Get Around." Propulsive enough to be considered "juvenile" (in other words, rock 'n' roll), "I Get Around" nevertheless carries the unmistakable hallmark of the Beach Boys' "artist"period: mind-boggling four-part harmonies, a truckload of off-the-wall instrumentation, and a multi-section structure featuring chord changes and overlapping, recurrent themes. While not necessarily the "best" song I can think of, it's certainly the most technically astounding.

B. The Songs

#200 The Kinks - "Sunny Afternoon"
What can I say? The list starts off on a great note (pun!), with my favorite song by one of my three or four favorite bands. A personal aside: This is the all-time greatest song to hear in a bar... especially if it's daytime.

#197 Charles Mingus - "Solo Dancer"
This should probably be in the section above, but screw it. If you're going to include jazz on the list, how can only like five jazz tracks appear?? This is why jazz (and some other "genres"... we'll come back to this) should always be treated as its own thing; it's gonna get the shaft on this list because jazz and pop are, in terms of appreciation and public taste, apples and oranges. That's not to say that the same person can't like both (that's a stupid as the "Elvis person vs. Beatles person" dichotomy), but it IS to say that an entirely different arsenal of critical tools has to be deployed when you're discussing jazz. It's just a shaky idea... and the obvious reason why jazz ends up being horribly under-represented on the list.

#189 The Sonics - "Strychnine"
Fine. Okay. Just tell me how in the hell this is on the list instead of "Psycho." Bigger hit, better song. WTF? Just having The Sonics on the list is semi-obscure, so why rock the super-esoteric steez?

#178 Otis Redding - "I've Been Loving You Too Long (To Stop Now)"
Brilliant. Should have been higher. "Dock of the Bay" is higher. So what's wrong with "(Try a Little) Tenderness"? Did the whole Ducky scene in Pretty in Pink ruin it for you or something?

#170 Françoise Hardy - "Tous Les Garcons et Les Filles"
Too goddamn right. A fantastic choice.

#162 The Who - "I Can See for Miles"
The rest of the Who choices on the list are a-plus (and I totally agree with the omission of "My Generation"), but this song just doesn't have that certain something. It lacks swagger, despite its agressive lyrics. And as the Who's more sprawling material goes, it's far inferior to "A Quick One (While He's Away)." Just switch those two and you're right on track.

#159 Pink Floyd - "Astronomy Domine"
Again, great pick, but 1968's "Let There Be More Light" is sorely missed here. No other song better anticipates the Krautrock masterpieces of the 1970s by Can, Neu!, et al.

#140 Donovan - "Season of the Witch"
Great call. Donovan's best song and an easy one to overlook in the face of his more hippy-dippy megahits.

#133 The Monkees - "I'm a Believer"
(Weird... Neil Diamond, who wrote this song, appears more on this list as a composer than as an actual musician.) A fine song, but the one talented Monkee, Mike Nesmith, gets the shaft here. (Nesmith is represented, however, as the composer of The Stone Ponys' "Different Drum" at #167) Nesmith's "You Just May Be the One" is a far better Monkees song, and "the smart one" deserves his props.

#120 ? and the Mysterians - "96 Tears"
This just needs to be in the top 50. Rookie mistake.

#112 Steve Reich - "It's Gonna Rain"
See jazz comments. Experimental sound collage or whatever the hell this is... so this is the only avant-garde classical noise that could make the list, or you wanted to add some avant-garde stuff to make the list seem more sophisticated? Either way, it just sticks out like a very sore thumb. A totally egghead move.

#107 Bob Dylan - "Visions of Johanna"
Nice. Just a great pick. The ultimate solid, underappreciated album track.

#105 Simon & Garfunkel - "America"
The one band that is represented by its most painfully obvious songs. You know "The Only Living Boy in New York" got the shaft because it was in Garden State. (Editor's note: Bridge Over Troubled Water was released in 1970, so forget that last sentence. Good lookin' out, Anonymous.)

END PART ONE

Tune in Monday (or don't) for random notes on the top 100 songs, and a selection of deserving tunes that din't make the list.

Setting the Record... um... Straight

Way back in January 2005, my iPod tried to convince me that I was a sensitive teenaged girl by insisting that I was listening to way too much Postal Service and Duran Duran. Well my new(er) iPod has proven that it really is man's best friend by producing a most-played list that a guy can be proud of. Or at least, not disturbed by.

So, as I have nothing of value to share even though the last post was a full week ago, here's *bitter defeat*'s top 25 most-listened-to tracks. (Please forward new post ideas. This is getting pathetic.)

25. Animal Midnight - Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks
24. Out Of The Races And Onto The Tracks - The Rapture
23. Hate To Say I Told You So - The Hives
22. Needle In The Hay - Elliott Smith
21. Teenager - Camera Obscura
20. If She Wants Me - Belle & Sebastian
19. Something - The Beatles
18. Young Pilgrims - The Shins
17. Kilo - Ghostface Killah Feat. Raekwon
16. Needle In The Camel's Eye - Brian Eno
15. He Thought Of Cars - Blur
14. Vivo Sonhando (Dreamer) - Astrud Gilberto
13. Fox on the Run - Sweet
12. Gone For Good - The Shins
11. Hands - The Raconteurs
10. He's A Deep Deep Lake - Film School
9. Low - Cracker
8. Dimension - Wolfmother
7. So Says I - The Shins
6. Black Grease - The Black Angels
5. Its For You - Out Hud
4. Game Of Pricks - Guided By Voices
3. Heartbeats - The Knife
2. The First Song - Band Of Horses
1. Surf Wax America - Weezer

I gotta say... number one was a bit of a surprise. And apparently Shutes Too Narrow is still on heavy rotation. But nary a Postal Service song to be found! Still, the middle-class white male hegemony continues! The list is only 16% female and 4% black, and only 12% of the bands/artists come from non-English-speaking nations. Good thing I have Cracker on the list, because it appears I am one.

Have a great weekend.

ANDY KEATON'S SEMI-REGULAR FRIDAY VIDEO CORNER

Andy Keaton, the newest and youngest member of the *bitter defeat* staff, presents his somewhat regular roundup of delectable video goodness for your weekend edification... all in a convenient numbered format. This week's selections are heavily geek-oriented. (Unsurprisingly, YouTube is starting to dominate this segment.)

1. Gay robots are very concerned about your health.

2. In the spirit of the above, here are three very (okay, not-so-)different takes on Darth Vader satire:
A. Chad Vader
B. Smartass Vader
C. Vader Outtakes

3. An 8-bit dramatization of a good night of Dungeons & Dragons.

4. A celebratory announcement from Microsoft.

5. And finally a break from all the nerditude. Check out the meanest, flyest new crew in hip-hop.

Udder Confusion at the Transgender Party Farm (or, Tits on a Bull)

Paramount Pictures' Barnyard: The Original Party Animals is an anthropomorphic animated romp that hits theaters tomorrow. The film, about the secret bipedal shenanigans of common farm animals, is like George Orwell's Animal Farm, only the political subtext has been stripped away and replaced with Wal-Mart-friendly, flyover-state hilarity. At the center of all the hijinks is Otis, a male bovine -- a bull -- who drives cars, plays golf, cracks wise, and probably likes Tim Allen a lot. Oh! Shocker! Otis is even voiced by Kevin James, the King of Queens himself! Here's a picture of our all-American buddy Otis:

Notice anything odd? Here's a hint: check Otis's lower abdominal region. See those? See Otis's fucking UDDERS?? Now maybe having Otis's cock swinging all over the place during the movie would give many parents a little too much explaining to do during the car ride home, but is intentionally confusing the shit out of America's children really the answer? Is a gross distortion of anatomical reality preferable to just leaving ol' Otis blank down there? He is a male. How, pray tell, is giving him tits (sorry, teets) an appropriate solution to the we-can't-show-kids-a-bull-dick problem??

Does someone at Paramount Pictures believe that America's kids aren't quite stupid enough? And why am I the only one who finds this so irresponsible/weird? In the Onion AV Club review, their Uddergate commentary ran as follows: "Trouncing around upright with their udders hanging out (and since when do bulls have udders?), bearing the creepy musculature of offensive linemen, the cows are the stars of Barnyard..." That's it? Their musculature is creepy? How about the fact that kids are being magically transported to a post-op transexxual farm for "party animals?" How's that for fucking creepy?

How do you think manly ultra-dude Sam Elliott feels about Exhibit B?

I can pretty much guarantee that they failed to tell ol' Sam that his character was a big, studly bull... with breasts. The guy played the saltiest dude in Roadhouse, fer crissakes. I seriously doubt that he has decided to champion the transgender issue in children's films at this juncture in his career.

I dunno. Maybe I'm overreacting. But I think there is some cause for concern when Hollywood proceeds on the (probably fair) assumption that America's kids... hell, America's parents don't even know any better.

Also from the WTF file: Steely Dan writes an obliquely threatening letter about Owen Wilson. No way do the dudes in Steely Dan really talk like this! This is either the strangest letter ever written, or the most arid moment in the band's long and esteemed history of dry wit.

**UPDATE** The Butterscotch Stallion responds. (And responds well!)

Dear Fellow Baller...

The English Premiere League (that's English professional soccer, for the truly ig'nint) starts its season in just over two weeks. For those typical Americans who are briefly enamored of the game in the wake of the World Cup, this is your best chance to stay satisfied. (For the love of god, do not attempt to become a fan of our own Major League Soccer... that's like getting into pee-wee football instead of the NFL.) So, you may ask, how do I pick a side to support? Well, you essentially have two options: 1. If you are a woman, you can support Arsenal, as [at least according to Martha, our *bd* soccer consultant] most of the "really hot guys" you remember from the World Cup seem to be on that team; 2. You can read Bill Simmons's highly informative (and hilarious) Page 2 guide to picking an EPL team.


The official *bitter defeat* EPL squad is Liverpool FC, which comes in second on Simmons's list. How can you not support the same team as Pope John Paul II, Sporty Spice, and Chris "The Lady in Red" DeBurgh?? (Rumor has it that Dr. Dre and Samuel L. Motherfuckin' Jackson are also fans.) Another interesting fact about Liverpool is their famous theme song, "You'll Never Walk Alone," which was most famously performed by Gerry and the Pacemakers. The Pink Floyd track "Fearless" also features a recording of Liverpool supporters chanting the song during a Wembly Cup match. What really freaked me out is that it's also the theme song of my second-favorite team, Celtic FC of the Scottish Premiere League. Football serendipity, y'all.

Speaking of athletics, it appears there is finally hope for us average white basketball players who long to dunk in a game... even if it's just once. Now we can Go Up Strong. Seriously, you must read this site. The line about WNBA tryouts is as funny as it is emasculating.

The Space Needle and the Damage Done, Reprise

This just in: Seattle kicks ass.

Only managed to catch two bands at the Capitol Hill Block Party... Band of Horses played a fantastic set, despite considerable technical problems. They even did a great cover of the Stones' "Waiting on a Friend." Pretty Girls Make Graves were somewhat underwhelming; all vocals, no guitars. They did, however, have a full double-dutch-and-drag-queen accompaniment for one song. Then we were off to Linda's Tavern, which is basically the sweetest-ass bar I've been to in months. Like, I bought a t-shirt! Merch love for a bar! Also, they have $1.50 cans of Olympia all day (and $2 Rainier cans, if that's your thing).



The Experince Music Project was underwhelming (although there is a massive, three-story tornado-shaped sculpture made out of guitars). As one friend put it, it's like "a Hard Rock Café on steroids." That pretty much sums it up. Also hit the Science Fiction Museum and Hall of Fame, which kicked ass despite a truly disappointing gift shop. All I got was a mug... so all the chicks that come to my apartment will know that they are hooking up with a seriously cool dude! Poontang 101, y'all: chicks dig guys who dig sci-fi!

(Talk about mixed emotions: Captain Kirk's original chair wasn't on display... because it's on loan to Comedy Central for their upcoming roast of William Shatner. Oh man, imagine the sheer number of lame Shat jokes about having sex with, like, blue alien chicks. Or who will make the first obvious T.J. Hooker joke, David Spade or Rob Schneider? It'll all be amazing anyway, because the Shat is certifiably cuckoopants bonkers. He's thee greatest, but he's obviously crazier than a shithouse rat.)

Anyhoo, the wedding was beautiful. The city really is (kill me for using this word) breathtaking. KEXP? Great. Sonic Boom Records? Great. The coffee? Retarded great. Just look at this hip, locals-only underground coffee house I found: