Mixtape 218 • Dance With Me
Joanna Sternberg is an open book, and you can’t keep from turning the pages.
Joanna Sternberg is an open book, and you can’t keep from turning the pages.
Things started out normally, with a cover and an excellent new single from Waxahatchee, but took a turn for the unexpected when the highly-anticipated Cat Empire set went missing. Was it skipped over on the player accidentally? Had I forgotten to make a copy to bring to the station? Could I download it from the backup at home? After a couple of sets of troubleshooting, it turned out I had named the file incorrectly. These are the hazards you encounter as a live-in-the-studio DJ, kids.
The sound of Star Feminine Band is born of Benin, brightly colored patterns, and wild abandon, young carefree voices skipping over liquid guitar and intense percussion.
Soul jazz ensemble The Greyboy Allstars have been around so long they have grown into their name.
The pediatrician scrambled on hands and knees after the rubber ball. It deflected off the base of the Monument to Fuel Tanker, his imperturbable brass cheer completely unaffected by the collision. The interlocutor looked around surreptitiously. Their aim was to provide some normalcy to the fact that two people were hanging out near one of the lowest-ranked attractions in Grodno while the sophisticated electronics built into their footwear communicated with the satellite and sorted out the problem with the statue. But maybe this game of jacks had not been the best idea for cover.
Go ahead and call your band Great Grandpa. You better have something pretty weird up your sleeve.
If a mermaid learned to play surf guitar, she could give Olivia Jean some exciting competition, at least for a little while.
The composer stood over the gunwale, pressed the small button, and blew into the instrument, discharging the contents into the dark green waters below. If they had known it was going to be this type of floating market, they would have picked a different watercraft. This explained the unprecedented difficulties when trying to secure their transportation with the Colombo office. The ichthyologist indicated one of the floating structures, and began maneuvering their craft towards it. The composer took a breath and the signal, a brief segment of “Message To You Rudy”, went out from the melodica.
As you may suspect, Peter Bjorn and John hail from Sweden, and as you may expect, they do Anglophonic indie pop better than the Anglophones.
The topologist carefully unfolded the graph depicting prime number frequencies. Across the scrub, the baker was returning from the Unimog, having concluded the search, and from the looks of their empty hands, unsuccessfully. They must have left it in the cab back in Calabar. Wonderful. Together, they considered the placement of the carved stone monoliths before them, their geometric arrangement random to the average visitor, but a clear reflection of order to the ancient people of Alok Ikom, and apparently, also related to the graph before them, with cataclysmic mathematical consequences.