Tag: Helado Negro

Pack a light lunch and bring your paper money, because Station Model Violence is taking us back in time.

It’s the first night of the year where I arrive at the station in daylight. Also, it’s been unseasonably cool. But neither of those things is as notable as a new album from Toadies which brings up more of that brutal precision fuzz pop that made my ears perk up the first time I heard them over 30 years ago. Elsewhere tonight: a phone call from PJ, on the road, and middle-cased keyboards.

Start your day right with the righteous alarm clock that is Annabelle Chairlegs.

This cover of “Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometime” (from Beck) takes me back to the Datsun’s backseat, waiting for my mom to finish some errands while the Korgis’ original version gently pipes out from the AM radio. Turns out I did forget my hat at the station, and it’s sitting in Katie’s desk, but I forgot to make arrangements to pick it up tonight.

Ghost Funk Orchestra provides the soundtrack for all your paranormal festivities.

It’s the evening before Valentine’s Day, which means absolutely nothing here at lacking org. Instead, we’re opening up with the Sex Clark Five taking on the Byrds, and something from Norwegian up-and-comers Mall Girl, who manage to hold up a broken mirror to American indie rock without cutting themselves to shreds. Also, their bassist name-checks Laddio Bollocko. Also tonight, more splendiferous instrumental musings from the incomparable Matt Berry to kick off the Final Hour.

You might think Juanes is some sort of reference to a collective of people named Juan, but it is actually a single Juan, more accurately a Colombian named Juan Esteban Aristizábal Vásquez. Here he is singing along to Elvis Costello and the Attractions as part of the fascinating Spanish Model project.

The story of Nell Smith & The Flaming Lips is as improbable and unexpected as their album full of Nick Cave covers. Existing in a triangular universe of mutual admiration, Where the Viaduct Looms gave us the opening track tonight, the menacing “Red Right Hand”.

If The Wedding Present were the traditional sort, they would be bringing coral to the festivities. This one is from earlier in their career, closer to the wood years, but the Velvet Underground never goes out of style. This is from another good VU tribute album, Heaven and Hell from 1991 or so.

The mechanical harvestman towered over the fig grove, its spindly arms tucked underneath as it towered over the fruit trees. The cryptobotanist aimed the infrared reader at the edge of the cultivated land, where the real Bhutan took over, hoping for even a quick glimpse. The landscape gave nothing in return. The operator’s headphones leaked the sound of some Turkish reggae, bounced from a satellite to overcome the foreboding mountains that ringed the valley. They both had patience to spare. The beast they were seeking had only one food source, located right here, and everyone’s gotta eat.