Featuring Tobacco, Glitter Bones, No Age, Slowdive and The Fauns. Damaged electro followed by the soothing sounds of various -gazes, nu- and old skool shoe-. Would you like a track removed? Email me at email@example.com
Learn how to do stuff from self-annointed “experts” over at The Content Farm. The first step to paying off your credit card debt? Get money. It seems obvious now, but your lack of expertise probably blinded you.
How J.C. Penney gamed the search engine system. Yeah. J.C. Penney. Even the most staid of mall anchor stores are hacking their way back to relevance.
Multiple links here. All good. The story behind security firm HBGary and one man’s idiotic attempt to take on notorious hacking hivemind Anonymous. To quote one of the many: “Moral of the Story: Don’t drum up business by banging on a hornet’s nest.”
1. The Man Who Knew Too Little: Behind Aaron Barr’s (of HBGary) convoluted plot to bring down Wikilinks.
2. How Aaron Barr tracked down Anonymous and paid heavily: 68,000 company emails made public, 1.5TB of data flushed, Twitter account hacked, website defaced, and more.
3. After Anon’s preliminary attack, Aaron Barr confronts his attackers. Bitch-slappage ensues.
4. Anonymous details the hack.
5. The complete IRC chat log of Barr’s “face-to-face” with Anonymous.
More Heavy Rotation(s) available here:
The Heavy Rotation Archive
Tobacco makes a particularly unhealthy form of electronica, one that sounds like it’s composed in a roomful of lengthy wiring and dust bunnies, lit with a single, flickering fluorescent bulb. You can almost picture him hunched over a jury-rigged beatbox, surrounded by overflowing ashtrays and unsleeved LPs, coaxing out distorted melodies and warped tones, occasionally interrupted by tripped circuit breakers and periodic hits from his n2o cartridge.
Clinking through the discarded cartridges, he presses REC on the reel-to-reel which is loaded with decaying tape originally purchased from a boot sale somewhere in the darker parts of Mile End, along with a set of ancient pornographic comic books, a stack of which are currently in use leveling out the mid-70s console stereo.
Finally happy with his efforts, Tobacco dumps it all into the aging Atari ST (don’t knock it: Fatboy Slim still uses one) and, with a flip of the circuit breaker and some wire rearranging, sends it to the waiting vinyl press. One the grooves are imprinted, Tobacco grabs the fresh acetate and drills an off-center hole in it and quickly inscribes “???: ? RPMs” on the label.
When not confidently speeding through Pavement-damaged angular indie rock, No Age like to wind their way down a poppier, melancholic path lit only by filtered sunlight and bright chords which intermittently expose the darkness just below the surface. This is the way indie pop should be done: kiss to the brain melodies coasting on frictionless sounds just left enough of radio to avoid being tagged “sellout.”
Nu-gaze that conjures up the best Lush tracks with a bit of Slowdive (see below) thrown in for good measure.
Like a slightly more cheerful Slowdive, making use of the same softly focused palette but with brighter colors mixed in. Kind of as if Slowdive had hied the fuck up out of watery Reading and relocated to somewhere with a few more months of steady sunlight. Like Ibiza.
Glitter Bones‘ dreampop sounds a little poppier and a little less like the suicidal teen down the block and hits your ears like a love letter written on a sugar rush.
For comparison. (Also works fine as a stand-alone piece.)