the last week has been most unmusical...my grandmother had a surprise bout with cancer and was in hospice for a few days before she died. the weird silence of that time was only broken by the little portable breathing machine thing with a rolling three-part noise which mingled with breathing as the two most terrifying sounds in my recent memory.

then of course there's the funeral where the terrible organist drones the most basic left hand to a frail sketch of melody - it's like baby food...anything strong and people are going to 'lose it' which, you know, isn't a bad thing. my grandfather watched the all day john wayne festival the day after her death, and my family flitted around, and i of course just wanted to dig out some faure or something and just be miserable in my own world, but i couldn't be so selfish nor melodramatic.

now i'm listening to lillux, the most horrible, crappy madonna-owned shlock. i wish shakira would strangle these dumb canadians. in the traditional major label chase, it took me over 20 tranfers to talk to someone who had any idea how i might get this promo. lovely.

ten pm, about to go see the new matrix movie, yay!

today i cleaned out my desk, pouring all the promos and bullshit into my bag, along w/ whatever office supplies caught my eye, of course. probably the only thing that i got out of my terrible job was a better understanding of curtis mayfield and stevie wonder, courteousy of my boss's husband, who seemed to own every CD in the world but is simultaniously not really allowed to listen to music in the house. i have never in my life been in a place with so much unhappy sound and i am so glad to be gone.

tomorrow i am picking up jack ashford from motown's funk brothers from the airport for the 'standing in the shadows of motown' gig we're doing on sunday. what the hell do i say to a guy who played the vibes on every motown song, and played on 'what's going on' especially? like 'hi, mr. ashford, you're the coolest person my parents age who still seems to be alive' totally weird.

on my stereo:
go go go airheart 'love my life...hate my friends' which is like the best parts of the make up w/o the bs politics. the recording itself is scratchy and comes up after songs start, very amatuerish, but rules in a timeless, fun but surprisingly dense way. whatever, it fucking rules.

ugly duckling. some cali white boy hip hop group who supposedly sound like early de la but just sound like a bunch of lame kids making a concept album about a mythical fast food chain called 'meatshake' and their unfortunate franchise across the street from the veggie hut.

annoying joke band list:
1. atom and his package
2. dan the automator
3. gravy train
4. momus
5. prince paul

shit, my ride's here. there's a funny picture of dave friedman (flaming lips/mogwai/longwave/ etc etc producer who lives in fairy land, upstate ny) in the new rolling stone which looks strangely like my ex-boyfriend. so weird to know all about someone w/o knowing what they look like and then they look like someone you know. was reading 'the women of motown' oral history book and one of the ladies was talking about how motown women were interchangeble in the early days because no one knew what any of them looked like. what a concept - pop without a face.

listening to mull historical society and thinking about fake radiohead bands - calla, ester drang, coldplay -- and how yes, sometimes i enjoy the fake better than the real thing. this isn't to say i prefer the rutles to the beatles, the black eyes to the white stripes (or even the kills to the ws's) etc etc, but that, by and large, these sonic kidnappers distill the best elements and leave the pretense. argument heard that radiohead are true artists, groundbreakers while coldplay are merely musician/entertainers, with terrible lyrics and super calculated structures, use of radiohead's studio elements, blah blah, but from what i've heard of the new rh album, it's fucking boring. it seems they run screaming from their own grandiose set ups, becoming more micro and feable with each album, internalizing and becoming the alienated creatures celebrated in the first three albums. if anything, i like bands like ester drang and calla bc they're so shoegazer in a post-gazer age -- not even discussed on drone on, blisscent or any other other lame listservs i'm on, yet so obviously biting that style.

also today - nina nastasia. great stuff. i bet tori fans would like her, and cat power boys if they could ever get off her stupid cult track...so melancholy and meant for fall, but a lovely album to fight off the absurd grey clouds of philadelphia although i fucking hate people talking about how albums affect their environment/day/life as a rule. her strings sound like the ever charming rasputina - very rock sounding yet still with the lushness of my favority string sections - nick drake and 'sea changes' beck, as if these were seperate, that silly beck! i'll have to root around for her last album. i know...it's here...somewhere...

was just googling bc i'm interested in who her string players are and stumbled upon pitchfork. arrgh that webzine. back in the halycon days of web-zines, there were so many better, more amusing, informative and community (read in part, less crassly commercial) oriented music pubs out there. sadly, they've all disappeared and only pitchfork is around to be wildly incoherent, self-indulgent and disgustingly first person about whatever and also...music. it's become a clearing house for news and other bs ( i used to use to get release dates, but they've been so lazy lately that nothing is up).

my friend chris nelson gave a paper at the first emp conference on this decline and fall of music webzines, perhaps i'll bug him about it - but he just became the world's most punk rock dad so i'm sure he has other things on his mind. i'm not really in favor of rock critic's procreating, but chris is exempt from this bc he is both an awesome writer and a truly sweet, genuine human being so he's genes are well needed on this earth.

other listening: sly's greatest hits (first summery days), the new wire album (which is great but cancels my desire to start an industrial band...they're all coming back) and that ester drang album, which is great if highly unoriginal.

also: DJed this matt pond, lefty's deceiver, bitter, bitter weeks show (the philly throwdown tour, bor-ring) show at the slovak national home (i could write a book abt the indie rock, central european cultural center crossover) on friday. pulled out populist hits like 'she bop,' 'genius of love,' 'the cutter,' taco's wonderful 'puttin' on the ritz' and 'love my way' which has one of my favorite dance club lines 'there's an army on the dancefloor/fashion with a gun, my love'. i got the girls w/ the pointy shoes to dance, so that's something.