MEDIA BLACKOUT #675.349!
Robyn “Rihanna” Fenty – “Diamonds” (Def
Jam) :: Sweetly reminiscent of something Mother used to hate, a lump of coal has more personality than this wrecked up ’n’
paralyzed exercise in plodding terminal snoozak. Young girl, I call this a diamond dog.
Robert Emerson “Bob”
Clampett – Coal Black And De Sebben Dwarfs (Warner Bros.) :: Exactly!
Casados – Have You Ever Felt Like Writing Someone You Have Never Met But Always Wanted To
(SPAM Email) :: “Fondly bar discredit insuperable me through this. Would coterie gratify it, till john dashwood
Ive been scanty to disentangle factory, storm, beforehand lisp. Duly, we must accede for the velvety of 2,400 liters
of resort that attributes ourselves the incest stab in the sheep.”
And you thought I overwrote.
PLATTER OF THE WEEK: Daphne Lee Martin – Moxie (Telegraph Recording Co.) :: There ain’t nothing
I like better than listening to a brand spanking new album that gives me renewed hope that all is well in Recordville—and,
strangely believe it, this happens to be that album in that it lives up to its ballsy name and double dares ya to crank it
up all the way up to maximum volume with your noodle wedged right between the speakers.
Y’see, not since the good old
white label advance test pressing days have I been so blindfold flummoxed by an audio outing. That’s because, devoid
of an album cover or track listing or anything else to guide me along except for a plain white sleeve and textless disc, I’m
forced to do the free-association poetic stutter-step instead—something I ain’t done since I reviewed 801
Live and Low.
So just what the heck is this mutant offspring anywho and where the heck do I begin to get
a greased handle on it? With track one’s melodramatic operetta that fuses Casio casino music with a spooktown carnival
Or mebbe track two’s
sultry Peggy Lee meets the Doors feverish black coffee combo?
Or how’s about track three that opens with a syncopated “Memo
From Moxie” backbeat which then melodically fuses “Down By The River” with a brace of bubbly Telex synthpoptronics?
Or with the Bennett-cum-Gurdjieff-ish
voice overs of track four?
Track five’s Hitchcockian country hoedown?
Track six’s clandestine Tarantinish tryst?
Track seven’s surreal dub confab?
Track ten’s swanky
vo-de-oh-do night club megaphonics?
And speaking of keeping track, you may have noticed that I’ve omitted two prime numbers; that’s
because they’ve been left vacant for you to describe. To play along at home, all you need is a copy of Daphne
Lee Martin’s versatile new album Moxie and two cranked up speakers for you to wedge your noodle between; your
rejuvenated spirit will thank you for it in the morning—and remember kids: Neatness counts!
Be seeing you!