Heavy Rotation 69April 3, 2011
[Concursantes de este domingo incluye Nightland, fin de semana, The Big Pink, gemidos primas, Papelera del Partido y demonio vivienda bruja, Nattymari. Contiene partes iguales de esta y / o lo otro. ¡Viva el error de traducción garantizadas!]
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Why should you read Julian Sanchez? Read this quote and see if can resist reading more:
Wise assessment of copyright policy should have nothing to do with how you feel about the person or entity who holds the right at any particular time, because copyright policy is not about identifying wonderful and meritorious people and ensuring—certainly not as an end in itself, anyway—that their income is proportioned to their intrinsic moral desert—or lack thereof. We are all the massive beneficiaries of millennia of accumulated human scientific knowledge and cultural output, and not one of us did anything to deserve a jot of it. We’re all just extremely lucky not to have been born cavemen. The greatest creative genius alive would be hard pressed to create a smiley faced smeared in dung on a tree trunk without that huge and completely undeserved inheritance.
In crafting the finest “prayers for rain” song since, well, the Cure’s Prayers for Rain, Nightlands enlist the aid of antiquated instrumentation and a chart-topping monks’ sense of choral arrangement to color up the background. The result is hope-against-hope fatalism, the kind that can usually only be communicated via a particularly brilliant song.
This is another one of those tracks that I find blissfully (and occasionally, blisteringly) tuneful but somehow still manages to punch elizabeth3 right in the Yiddish.
Suffice to say, Weekend’s track is amazingly catchy with just the right amount of guitar blast, making it punchier than your average summer beach buzz. The melody makes you want to bounce. The bursts of sonic fuckery make you want to pump your fist.
God help me, I love The Big Pink. As the heir apparent to the throne hastily abandoned by a million shoegaze artists and their introverted fans, TBP is stadium-ready gauze rock, built on solid hooks and pretty-as-fuck lyrics. The faux strings are a nice touch, as is the “if you love someone, set them free and kill yourself” resignation.
Nothing involving any combination of the words you see above should sound this gorgeously heartbreaking. The subject matter alone would seem to lend itself to emotionless scorn, but the way Raw Moans and Party Trash view it, there’s nothing more sincerely emotional than late night regret.
Taking his name from perhaps the twee-est videogame ever released, Nattymari pins down the hazy, codeine-addled end of the witch house spectrum with a mixture of pitch-slurred mantras and vapor-locked rhythms. Hidden amongst the faulty reel-to-reel vocals and drum machine abuse is the best kiss-off, pissed off, fuck off line ever delivered. It connects like a back-handed compliment:
“She look like the best money that I ever spent.”