Tag: Breeders

Listen to The Bug Club sing about marriage, and you will instantly know marriage.

I have no doubt Jeff Rosenstock knows where to get the best pizza in town.

I believe this is the first time we’ve hit four exclamation marks for a playlist’s name, courtesy of Australia’s Psychedelic Porn Crumpets and their very doge-titled track. Elsewhere tonight, a special themed segment that attests to the powers of random selection!

I don’t care how many times I have to cut and paste Snõõper’s name to preserve those weird accents, they’re worth it.

Firing things up near the top of tonight’s Mixtape are The Hives and the precision attack of “Rigor Mortis Radio,” from their recent return to affairs of sound. Also, what do you know… another fine Fugazi cover to open tonight’s mixtape, this one the chromatic riffing of “Merchandise” as interpreted by Sounds Of Swami. Elsewhere tonight, a shout-out to Chuck Dinkins for introducing me to Tupelo Chain Sex.

Out of all the songs to receive Animal Collective’s swirling dayglo treatment, “Jimmy Mack” might be the most unexpected yet the most deserving. Elsewhere tonight, loyal listener Underdog, usually located in the wilds of Georgia, was able to tune in around lunchtime while traveling in Japan, making the second show in a row with a listener based in Asia. Get me marketing!

“New music from Sparklehorse” sounds like something from a fever dream, and it sounds like something from a fever dream.

Always a special treat to be back on the air after missing a show. This is the third show in a year that I’ve started with a Fugazi cover, in this case Failure taking on “Waiting Room” with their trademark grinding, implacable approach. The power of these songs, its distinctive musicality and lyrical content, is undiminished in the hands of any band bold enough to take on the material. Tonight also featured the confluence of several loyal listeners, including James in California, Underdog in Georgia, and Charley who is on South Korea time and got to take benefit from the time zone.

I always thought Kurt Vile was a play on the name of the German composer that gave us “Mack The Knife,” but that seems to be his given name (bonus: middle name is Samuel). Sonically, he’s more in line with Lou Reed than Weill, topping his awkward nouveau folk with a voice that may not be the most musical but is actually the perfect medium to express this particular malarkey.

Bachelor are in no rush to get to the end of the song, which makes it the perfect soundtrack for getting things done around the house, or alternately sinking into a deep bliss of angel volces, tapped drums, and faraway guitar solos.