(S)hits

Thursday, 9 December 2010

i'm moving to wordpress


http://rachelprofiling.wordpress.com/
http://rachelprofiling.wordpress.com/
http://rachelprofiling.wordpress.com/
http://rachelprofiling.wordpress.com/
http://rachelprofiling.wordpress.com/
http://rachelprofiling.wordpress.com/

I'm turning over a new leaf. Music news, reviews, and recommendations. I could add some snarky comment, but nah.

Thursday, 25 November 2010

yes it does involve shaking your ass

Twenty years ago, Superchunk helped pave the indie scene by releasing their only hit: Slack Motherfucker. It was about working for a, er, slack motherfucker, and a high-energy, fast-paced anthem for losers everywhere. After that they vanished from the spotlight, but were far from over. They released eight albums before they taking a semi-hiatus in 2001, only to sporadically release rarity compilations and do live shows.

They recently released Majesty Shredding, their first full album in nine years, but that's a different story. I want to talk about their 2001 masterpiece Here's to Shutting Up. It's a perfect mix of "fuck yeah" fast-paced jams and chill songs. It sort of has an emo vibe, and the third track Phone Sex takes a brilliant venture into country. As you get into the second half the songs get calmer and feel sort of lonely, which makes it a perfect album for rainy days; if you don't feel like talking to anyone, this is a great album to put on. I suggest you listen to it much more that that though.

Tuesday, 23 November 2010

A track-by-track analysis of My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

Kanye West is somewhat of a tortured soul. We all live in his world, but he has trouble running it. He's a genius idiot. With all of the controversy surrounding him, he releases a self-analytical album that invites you to the depth of his soul. I invite you to a track-by-track analysis of his magnum-opus.


Dark Fantasy: Kanye's dark fantasy includes waking up in Sleepy Hollow, Nicki Minaj, and a backing chorus of chipmunks. Glorious.

Gorgeous - He's still mad at South Park, how-I WILL NEVER EVER EVER EVER LET YOU LIVE THIS DOOOWN DOOOWN DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWN.

POWER - Ah, the King Crimson sample. In this song, Kanye says "So what if I'm egotistical? I am a fucking God. [Note: from now on, Kanye will be referred to as God, and God will be referred to as Matt]" YA NIGGAS GOT TOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLD.

All Of the Lights (Interlude) - Thunder before the storm? Bracing.

All Of the Lights - Oh my god those horns. Shit just took surreal to a new level. So, God slaps his girl because "MJ GONE, OUR NIGGA DEAD." C-c-c-custody battle! He's a good guy, he just made a mistake. His baby aint going to no ghetto university.

Monster - Possible response to all of the hate God gets (surprise, surprise.) Media turns me into a muthafuckin' monster? Well guess what, I AM a muthafuckin' monster. Fellatio metaphors using a pharaoh and sarcophagus. Oh shit, who dese vampires suckin' my blood?

So Appalled - LIFE CAN BE SOMETIMES REDIKULUS. God claims he would be on Matt's playlist, and continues to pat himself on the back. God's high as united, 30,000 feet and you're not invited. I guess it means "If you want to make me into an asshole, fine. I am so above you anyways."

Devil in a New Dress - God falls in love and will do anything to make dis honey happy.

Runaway - Easily the greatest song on he album. God finally grows frustrated with the image us mere mortals cast upon him and runs away from it all. Also has a 35-minute music-video counterpart.

Hell of a Life - The chorus goes to the tune of 21st Century Schizoid Man. Pussy and religion is all God needs, and he'll live one hell of a liiiiife. After he marries a porn star, of course.

Blame Game - Were the lyrics slightly altered, this could be a very potent track about the death of God's mother. God has no time for reflection though. He has more important things to do like teaching a bitch how to reupholster her pussy. God taught well.

Lost In the World - The one with Bon Iver. Everything's crashing down. Vocals collide. God feels lost in the world, so he builds his own city. Meanwhile...

Who Will Survive in America - History lesson with African bongos that gets progressively faster. Ends appropriately with applause. God knows that he's God, and sanity is restored for now.

Thursday, 18 November 2010

i got so lucky witchu

The title False Priest is a little misleading. Instead of a shitty Green Day-esque rock opera against religion, it's mainly about sex. And dating hipsters. It's great though - trust me. Feedback for False Priest has been mainly so-so, but I think it's a great fusion of funk and the ridiculous brand of indie-pop of Montreal is known for. I know their next album will probably be completely different, but I like this mindless fun. Definitely a contender for album of the year.

Saturday, 13 November 2010

wavin' my dick in the wind

Ah, the ocean. What is it about her that's so alluring? I puff my vintage pipe as I type this, by the way.

But really, all of that marine shit intrigues me. It's calming and strangely nostalgic, and Ween seems to capture those feelings. But for every profound statement I make, there's a retarded cousin to it. In this case, I found out about Ween from Spongebob Squarepants. 'Ocean Man' [SPOILER ALERT: Probably the best song on the album] was used for the closing track of the Spongebob movie, and I knew Ween had to be hot shit. While The Mollusk isn't consistently good, I still find myself coming back to it. I know this sounds fucking stupid, but if I in a submarine thousands of feet underwater, this is the only album I'd want to play.

Friday, 12 November 2010

because

I recently started watching an anime entitled Pico to Chico, and all I can say is... Wow. Unlike so many modern shows that stumble over every excruciating minutia of their characters, Pico to Chico tastefully crafts a story and leaves the characters to mystery (only a fool would dare call the character development "shallow"). Post-modern existentialism is the soup of the day as we progress through their adventure, only to find that materialism is the only thing that keeps us living, but it's not in a pompous, pseudo-intellectual style that implies that's a recent phenomena; it's handled delicately but will impact you in a way that leaves you asking "Why?" Unlike our hack-ridden film industry, Pico to Chico uses metaphors in an excruciatingly subtle way. Sharp-eyed spectators should be able to spot the humanistic properties Chico's sister displays. Just when you think all of the questions raised will be answered, the film comes to a halt, leaving you, the viewer, left to ponder the hidden questions scholars have kept to themselves up to their untimely deaths.

I don't think this film justifies an arbitrary rating of stars; it's much better than that. It deserves a place among the highest modern philosophical works of our world. Nietzsche, thy name is Pico.

Sunday, 7 November 2010

Monday, 18 October 2010

taking it to the streets

I'm no sucker for dad-rock, and I don't think I ever will be. It just seems like the majority of it is overrated yet pretentious, and this is coming from a Radiohead fan. The Doobie Brothers have always been one of my dad's favorite bands, and I'm just now starting to appreciate them. Their "Best Of" album is probably their best-selling (deal with it, hippie), and if it were a normal album and not just a showcase of their best jams, it would be damn well near perfect. The Doobies have a great mix of funk and rock, meaning that you can sing along to their songs while driving down the highway (presumably in a car. Don't be an asshole and get a motorcycle). Their music is also reminiscent of those "black meets white" '70s TV specials that had black people in afros dancing with white Magnum P.I. look-alikes and relatively attract women. Maybe it's cheesy, but you could use a break from journeying into the depths of your mind and listen to some fucking cowbells.

Saturday, 11 September 2010

'twas a dinosaur act

Post-rock, overall, is pretty okay, I guess. Some people can sit in their own filth and misery while listening to dreamy whispers over ominous static, others can't. I fall into the latter. The fuel to depressing music, in my opinion, needs a little more substance. That's why I can sit in my own filth and misery to Red House Painters much better than, say, Godspeed You! Black Emperor. Despite my little schpiel on post-rock, I rediscovered Things We Lost in the Fire by Low recently, and I really enjoy it. I'm a sucker for female and male vocals combined, so maybe that's what's doing the trick. I still can't see the appeal of Justin Bieber, though.

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURN


It's funny because he's a man-lady. Haha. Anyways, Low's whispery-soft female delivery with the solid-yet-light tone of the male's really hooks me in, along with the chimes and acoustic guitar. It's so soothing that they can ask "What is a whore?" (in the aptly-named track 'Whore') and make it sound gospelesque. The lack of synth is also very refreshing from what I've been listening to lately. I think minimalism that can still express heavy anger or sadness is miles more advanced than "LOL WE ADD SYNTH AND SING ABOUT MY HEART EXCEPT IT'S A TICKING CLOCK WAITING 4 U." 'Like a Forest' portrays the former experience. Low really does a good job of crafting a unique experience that feels uneasy yet melancholic.

Wednesday, 8 September 2010

where's my sex!?

Folks, it's time we accepted the fact that there will never be another Pinkerton. I realize a lot of you accepted this a while ago, but I think that, even if Cuomo consciously decided to emulate Pinkerton, it would just sound like a 40 year-old trying to make another confessional, you know? With that kept in mind, Hurley is pretty not-that-bad. Maybe, perhaps, good? Now, I'm aware that Rivers Cuomo could be riding in his solid-gold jetpack right now laughing as he chews on his solid-gold cigar thinking "Those plebeians actually like that shit!" I mean, this is the man who referred to his fans as "little bitches" back in 2002(ish). In his defense though, it would be pretty annoying if your fans kept on requesting you to go back to your old sounds instead of treading new grounds. Then again, "old sounds" kind of meant "actually good." *pause for laughter and cheering* But I digress. Hurley goes back to the power-pop sound of 1994's Blue Album but pumps up the "power." Track one, 'Memories,' starts with a cheesy intro, but then it's followed by a wall of sound. By the time you're questioning whether this is an Arcade Fire-good "wall of sound" or Nickelback-shit "wall of sound," the catchy synth kicks in and it doesn't really matter. So far this is definitely better than a rap-rendition of 'Can't Stop Partying' (I'm still sore over that.) The rest of the album is kind of samey, but it's an okay kind of samey. One of the more memorable moments in Hurley is the song 'Where's My Sex?,' a title that I find genuinely funny. That kind of ridiculousness is classic Weezer, in my opinion. I find that Weezer is trying a little too hard to be edgy though, proven by the fact that this is the first album to be released on an indie label (Epitaph.) Overall, Hurley is an enjoyable (if cheesy) throwback to power-pop, and a positive look into the future. I wouldn't find myself relistening to it on a roughly tri-yearly basis as I do with 2008's Red Album, but it's a step up from my "never-relistening to" basis of Raditude. Just ignore the bonus tracks, unless you want to hear a cover of a Coldplay song (that's great and all, but why bother covering something from 2008?)

In related news, Weezer has announced that Pinkerton is going to be reissued on November 4, along with a collection of out-takes from Blue to Raditude that have, to my knowledge, been rerecorded (it's entitled- I shit you not -Death to False Metal). In a Rolling Stone interview, Rivers Cuomo also stated that he started working on the next Weezer album "this morning," which I assume was sometime in late August.

Oh, and there's a Blue/Pinkerton tour in the works. Just a heads-up.