Tag: The Slackers

After a dozen years of keeping us waiting, Mariachi El Bronx returns horns a-blazin’.

A new album from The Bobby Lees is making its way to us, and I’m banging on the table in anticipation. Also, I meant to call that Alt-J song “Breezleblocks,” it’s a long story. Freaky weather continues!

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

It’s unseasonably warm, not like you’d be able to walk around in a T-shirt, but definitely not the type of weather you’d expect of the Grand Valley in February. It makes a perfect setting for The Barr Brothers and their urgent machinations. I remembered to get my hat, not that I need it.

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.

The Slackers are happy to bring you this timeless message using a timeless sound.

Tonight, the universe set off a billion trillion nuclear bombs in order to paint the sky with northern lights. It’s an appropriate light show for Peel Dream Magazine, whose shimmering tones seem to float out of the speakers like undulating curtains of sound.

It's a story as old as robots themselves, and Röyskopp is here to tell the tale.

Peach season is hot and heavy here in the Grand Valley, but I have yet to reach peach oversaturation. Give them to me in anything and everything, sure, I’ll try it. A special selection tonight in the form of The Beat, a one-hour set of music self-referentially dedicated to its own rhythmic components, after which things took their usual turn for the weird.

Normally an off night, but I had work travel. Many thanks to Honey Lady for switching nights so I can keep these hits coming! I am truly digging Audio Book Club and their demented Oklahoma skronk, hugging you warm and tight while they stab you in the back. Here’s hoping the Grand Valley is a stop should they venture westwards.