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Heavy Rotation Vol. 42

May 2, 2010

You’re probably wondering why I’ve gathered you all here today. Well, I will cut to the chase. Mrs. Farnham passed on late last night, under the most suspicious of circumstances. At first it appeared to be nothing more than natural causes.

Closer inspection showed that her window had been opened from the outside. I also noted that the third finger of her left hand had been removed and used for a doorstop. I found trace amounts of ether and clown makeup on the adjacent pillow. Her Gideon Bible had been opened to a passage in Revelations and a cryptic note stating “Pick up drycleaning” could be made out when rubbed lightly with a pencil.

I will need a statement from each of you, going from oldest to youngest in reverse alphabetical order. Those of you with hypenated last names will need to choose one or the other. No more “keeping your options open.” I’m a little tired of watching line jumpers game the alphabet in this fashion.

It seems obvious, but I’ll mention it anyway: no one is to leave this room under all inquiries are finished. In the meantime, Jeeves will play some hand-selected tunes from his massive collection of 78s. Those of you with heart conditions are advised to lie down or curl into the nearest bassbin.

Jeeves, be a good man and bring the funk.

Leaving the room? Stop by here for more tunes and rock-solid alibis:
The Heavy Rotation Archives

Holy Fuck – Lucky.mp3
Holy Fuck steps things up on their second album, bringing more focus to their psychedelic percussive workouts. Lucky is a prime example of this: a scratching riff melds with a some darting electronics, doing their best impression of a robotic Tom Morello jamming with the Parliament Funkadelic.

All of this combines with some half-buried (and mostly obscured) vocals and a driving, building rhythm section to creat a tune that sticks a foot in your door, asking for no more than 5 minutes of your time. By the time it’s all over, you’re the proud owner of a ridiculously expensive vacuum and a new religion.

Dave Wrangler – Bow Down to Latin America (Holy Fuck vs. Westside Connection).mp3
Within what seemed like mere hours of Holy Fuck’s album release, producer/mashup artist Dave Wrangler delivered this previously unimaginable combination. Say hello to these new best friends: the gangster posturing of Westside Connection and the muscular near-title track of the Fucker’s latest.

As the elements jostle for position early on, you may feel that 2+2, while not actually stretching to “5”, is definitely riding the outer edge of “4.5”. But by the time the first chorus hits, the unlikely couple is locked into the same groove, getting along like Crips and Canadians. (They’re the peanut butter and chocolate of the gangster/nationality world.)

Young Boys – Bring Em Down.mp3
You know all that noise I make about A Place to Bury Strangers taking up the Jesus & Mary Chain’s “Joy of Feedback” cookbook and setting up shop at the local earbleedery? Well, the Young Boys (voted Most Likely to Google You Right Onto the NAMBLA Mailing List) take the fuzz and wah of the JAMC and run with it, making sure to pour on healthy amounts of burnt-out nihilism. (It’s like butter for music – makes everything instantly better.)

The Dylans – I’ll Be Back to Haunt You.mp3
Surfacing during the early-90s Madchester baggy scene, the Dylans released an album full of Beatles-aping psychedelia, which helped them go nowhere fast, albeit in a rather pleasant fashion.

Something fucktacularly bad must have happened shortly thereafter. Their sophomore effort stomps all over the good vibes of their debut like a jackbooted biker “securing” a hippie at Altamont. Bitter, hard charging, feel-bad music to send out to the ones you used to love. Let them know how much their life will suck without you. How much they won’t be able to stop thinking about you.

Let me be
I’m not included
Not aware of any feelings
See confusion
I see changes
Empty words on endless pages

I’m not alive
I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead
But I’ll come back to haunt you
I’ll be back to get you
I will not forget you

Led Zeppelin – When the Levee Breaks (Sidney Frost’s Redneck Mask Mix).mp3
Let me just say this: I would highly recommend this track even if I didn’t know this remixer personally. But in the interest of full disclosure, this righteous remix is courtesy of my brother, one Sidney Frost of Minneapolis/Moab.

Showing what our dad would call “intestinal fortitude,” Frost briefly forsakes his minimal techno stylings for something that unabashedly forsakes the grey matter and heads right for the ass, which will soon be headed to the nearest dancing surface, with no regard for your better judgement/dancing ability. The beefed-up thump would make Bonham proud, if only he weren’t so busy rolling in his grave. Coverdale/Page, indeed.

Oh, and in a bit of blogging singularity, young Ulysses of Hidden Leaves dropped the unremixed classic during his Friday musical presentation. Odd, that. In another bit of full disclosure, I would like to say that we have never met before and therefore, there is no way that he could have foreknowledge of the clumsy magic trick we are about to perform, what with his being pulled “randomly” from the audience and all. (Note to self: remove suspicious quotation marks before posting. KTHX.)

-CLT

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14 comments

  1. Oh yeah! Sounding good. Keep up the great work.


  2. Holy Fuck is right. I’ll be back later for a proper comment.


    • Hell yeah! I mean, fuck yeah! I’ll be here, covered in expletives.


  3. This was the greatest intro ever. I enjoyed it more than that time I played clue up at my scary uncle Chester’s cabin in the woods.

    Although Holy Fuck may be the single greatest name in the history of Rock, my fave of the day was The Dylans although I’ve always loved me some Zep.

    Ok…Ok, I admit that I killed the bitch. I stole 14 buck out of her purse and pawned her ancient wedding ring for a fifty. I just really felt like a hit of crack….sorry….jeez.


    • Uncle Chester had so many games… Chutes & Lights Out; Pin the Tail on the Suspiciously Fleshy and Round Donkey; Axis & Allies (Who Can Keep a Secret)…

      I’m glad you enjoyed the funk what Jeeves brung. Go ahead and talk to the polite but steely-eyed inspector. He’ll get you the help you need. (“Help” equals stiff sentence.)


  4. KTHX, indeed!

    You’re right CLT, I do love me some crips! (Especially when they come with a piece of deep fried fish. Oh, and a stabby knife.) But if I had to pick (and you know I do), Mr. Frost and his intestinal fortitude gets my vote hands down. Even without your full disclosure.

    Speaking of which, be careful about who you fully disclose yourself to, CLT. One day you just might end up finding yourself on the wrong end of a body cavity search.

    (Not that there is a right end, I’m just sayin’…)


    • Hooray for Mr. Frost, whom I almost swear is no relation to me, except for, of course, that whole “blood” thing.

      Which brings us to the Crips and your wonderful play on gangwords. Thoroughly enjoyed the whole paragraph. Fun for the entire blue-bandannaed family.

      I will be careful in the future as to my full disclosure, not only because of your well-worded warning but also because of the recent ticketing I received for “fully disclosing myself in public.” This was added to the exisiting “drunken full disclosure” charges, which I was hoping to have dropped like so many pieces of constricting clothing.

      Thanks for the comment and visit, b. Wonderful to see you again.


  5. Re: Sidney Frost. Hey, I know that guy.


    • He’s a familiar looking bloke. Was voted “Most Likely to be Recognized by a Smallish Group of Individuals.”

      Nice to see you again, o/o.


  6. That’s it. I’m sending you the bill for a new computer chair. Holy Fuck was the final straw. My chair’s wobbly leg collapsed and I damn near smacked the ‘good side’ of my head on my marble floor. Had to take a break, re-set the chair, wrestle on a wrong-sized clamp and then find a suitable substitute chair while the glue dries. In retrospect, it’s actually a good thing this happened during selection 1 because # 2 really got me dancing in my chair (this can easily be observed by driving down Paradise Rd in Las Vegas…I’m the crazy lady you see in the high-rise tower with flailing extremities and roving chair).

    The intro to song 3 sounded like a collaboration between Dionne Warwick (hate her!) and Josef Mengele in a quest to set my nerves on edge.

    The Dylan’s: always refreshing to see nihilism woven into an upbeat song

    Led Zeppelin mix: as the British would say, bloody brilliant. As a strong type A personality, this song most represents ‘my speed.’ The only song I listened to twice.

    BTW, I have a rock solid alibi. I was perusing and commenting on Fancy Plans… the night Mrs. Farnham was so macabrely de-digitated. Besides, we all know FJ did the dastardly deed.

    As the elements jostle for position early on, you may feel that 2+2, while not actually stretching to “5″, is definitely riding the outer edge of “4.5″. But by the time the first chorus hits, the unlikely couple is locked into the same groove, getting along like Crips and Canadians.

    With this knack for writing, I can only imagine what kind of a song writer you could be.


    • All bills can be sent to my accountant at:

      yurischeapasfuckviagra@scammail.com

      My condolences on the loss of your chair and any potential new friends who were alienated instantly by your arm flailing and song #3. (One better than Blur’s “Song #2!”)

      Upbeat nihilism, missing digits, the word “Fuck,” this HR had it all.

      Thanks for the compliments, e3h, but I have been diagnosed with a rare form of tone-blindness, which makes it difficult to get hired as a songwriter. Or an interior decorator.


  7. HA, so this runs in the family. Its a great collection CLT and I really dug the Led Zeppelin mix…who I saw live in the 70s (best show ever). Thanks for that flashback.


    • There’s always time for another flashback, FJ, especially one delivered by close family members on my suddenly nepotistic blog.

      Thanks for the visit(s), FJ.



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