Tag: Panda Bear

Andy Bell invites you to join him on an interstellar-slash-transcranial groove expedition.

The weather is rushing up on us, and this mercurial ambiance fits tonight’s opening cover from Yo La Tengo, as they take a blistering Ramones classic and turn it into a bit of beach blanket bingo. Respect was paid later in the show with the original “Rockaway Beach,” which sure sounds like a fun place.

You will swoon as Geordie Greep croons sweetly to his army of scissor-limbed killbots.

There’s a lot of great new music out there right now, and near the top of the heap is The Bug Club, whose most recent release is filled to the brim with joyful nuggets of everyday life. The school year has started and the coffers are overflowing with a lot of great new music.

Once above the canopy, it was impossible to see the green-winged hang-gliders that the archeologist and the mercenary had used to enter the Antananarivo bird sanctuary. Going through Customs had been dicey, the parts for the flying machines had been dispersed with various kinds of unassembled patio furniture, but the quality of the materials still stood out. Fortunately, the mercenary had brought up the Madagascar goth metal scene and distracted the functionaries into stamping passports and waving them through. They hadn’t even asked about the Geiger counter.

The landtrain rumbled over something bumpy. Probably a hill, thought the conductor, as they made their way down the gently swaying aisle, digital holepuncher out, ready to process the ticket. The passenger, sole occupant of the car, sat oblivious, staring out the window at the landscape rushing twenty feet below, the faint sounds of some Slovakian cumbia leaking out of the expensive earbuds. “Ticket please?” The passenger startled, and reached for the sleek titanium briefcase, its embedded digital timer declaring to everyone that it held no ordinary cargo.

Clever pop songs, filled with good hooks and ready for mixtapes

The first mate adjusted the sails, letting out some wind to keep both skids on the sand. The sun shone down like a hole punched in a blast furnace someone painted blue, the radio broadcasting its gypsy salsa above the hiss of the sandmaran's travel. Leaning on the tiller, the captain let out a yell of warning as they crested a dune, gaining air for a brief moment. They still didn’t have a plan for replacing the statue, but they had a thousand miles of desert to work something out.

I have never been so uncomfortable, thought the hacker as they strained to match the wires in the fusebox, their head inches from one of the combine’s many potentially lethal harvesting blades. The lookout’s shadow was barely visible against the hangar door. Straining to clip the blue wire into the scanner, they heard a soft call and nearly lost an ear before remembering their uncomfortable position.

Multilayered excursions into the analog and digital realms, blurring everything into a psychoactive tapestry.