Front man for The Meatmen and almost a founder of Touch & Go records, Tesco Vee is probably most famous for his rude posturing and sense of humor. Before The Meatmen had recorded Crippled Children Suck or War of the Superbikes he was in a noisy outfit by the name of Blight. This 20 track release on Touch & Go covers everything they released and performed during their one year existence.
We made it to 700 episodes. While it's not a special episode per se—commemorating this milestone—you can pretty much assume that every episode is special. This one features Mark Spybey & Graham Lewis, Brian Gibson, Sote, Scanner and Neil Leonard, Susumu Yokota, Eleven Pond, Frédéric D. Oberland / Grégory Dargent / Tony Elieh / Wassim Halal, Yellow Swans, Dental waste in Saigon photo by Krisztian. Get involved: subscribe, review, rate, share with your friends, send images!
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American Music Club singer/songwriter Mark Eitzel's latest solo effort is a gentle album full of peaceful melodies, lyrics with an obscure beauty, and Eitzel's warm and softly whispering vocals. Gentle and peaceful though it might be, Candy Ass isn't milquetoast.
The latest release on Aranos’s own label is another hour of quality from one of the most easily identifiable artists on earth. It’s no departure from his previous output, those familiar with his work won’t be surprised with any of the pieces, but the songs here further refine his methods and skills.
Dan Snaith's music
(previously as Manitoba and now, Caribou) is some of the best bright
and sunny pop to roll out of speakers in recent years, and this video
collection on DVD accents that fact with mostly silly, cartoonish
visualizations of Snaith's blissful tunes.
Thesecond album from these Pennsylvanian chaps is full of chunkyblues-inspired riffs. Not in a nasty, necrophilia-tinged way like LedZeppelin but more in a Sabbath-style with a nod to past greats. While Iappreciate the straightforward rocking and absence of wank solos,unfortunately there’s not much to make Pearls and Brass anything morethan just another generic stoner rock band.
By now, pretty much everyone knows what to expect from a Whitehouse album, and Whitehouse seem satisfied to fully play into these expectations. Restraint and subtlety have never played a part in the project, and the Whitehouse discography seems to chart very little in the way of musical evolution in the more than two decades the group has been operating. 
I can't break down my love for this new TomasAndersson 12” to the kind of buzzwords that would explain its totalitarianeffect on even my own hermetic listening patterns. This ishead-banging techno without the flashy Raumschmiere-isms, crystalline andcolorful, music to stomp along to: wild, light, heartbeat stompin’ action.
Time was, the words "Mike Ladd" were routinely thrown in alongside oneslike "Gil Scot-Heron." While the latter-named beat-poet is stillpopular in coffee houses and among staffs of student literary journals(as well as other places Ladd never broke into), the Cambridge, MA-bornformer's been sliding back into the obscurity from whence he came, abrief five years after dropping the masterful Welcome to theAfterfuture on us.
By its very nature its unsurprising that most instrumental beat-driven music seems to be kicking its heels, waiting for an MC to jump aboard the track to bring it to life. Shying away from ‘smart’ breaks and crate dust covered samples this debut concentrates instead on song structures and melodies.
