News about Scott Walker’s latest from Stephen Kijak:
Hey – back in NY for a spell, Scott just finished his new album, “The Drift”, due on 4 A.D. in May and the film is about 80% shot, looking to drop in the Fall..
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Like the swallows to San Juan Capistrano, the Santa Ana winds return to Los Angeles this week.
The LA Times tracks day three of the phenomenon. 
Expect tales of ashen A-listers soliciting emergency relief funds to rebuild their seaside cabanas.
Meanwhile, back at the Sundance ranch, a documentary on the 1980’s Sudanese “Lost Boys“ soujourn through Ethiopia to Kenya prompts the glitterati 
(and the rest of us) to open our hearts and wallets.
According to Fox’s Roger Friedman, although Nicole Kidman narrated and Brad Pitt co-produced the cause celebre, when later prompted about the flick, neither could recall it well enough to make a succinct comment on it.
Guess the Hollywood deities grew tired of them as well.
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Like the swallows to San Juan Capistrano, the Santa Ana winds return to Los Angeles this week.
The LA Times tracks day three of the phenomenon. Expect tales of ashen A-listers soliciting emergency relief funds to rebuild their seaside cabanas.
Meanwhile, back at the Sundance ranch, a documentary on the 1980’s Sudanese “Lost Boys“ soujourn through Ethiopia to Kenya prompts the glitterati (and the rest of us) to open our hearts and wallets.
According to Fox’s Roger Friedman, although Nicole Kidman narrated and Brad Pitt co-produced the cause celebre, when later prompted about the flick, neither could recall it well enough to make a succinct comment on it.
Guess the Hollywood deities grew tired of them as well.
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For Earplug
| Artist: | DJ Cam | |
| Album: | DJ Cam Revisited By… | |
| Label: | Recall Records | |
| Release: | January 31 | |
An essential accelerant on the international “blunted” hip-hop scene alongside North America’s Shadow and Japan’s Krush, French downtempo fire-starter Laurent Daumail gets due remix props on DJ Cam: Revisited By…, from stateside heavyweights such as Lord Finesse, DJ Premier, and J Dilla. Daumail’s be-bop turntablism also proves malleable to alchemical approaches as esoteric as Kenny Dope’s astral-jazz/funk-fusion opener (“Success”); Kid Loco’s gritty swamp boogie meeting China’s incendiary vocals (“He’s Gone”); DJ Vadim’s scorched dirge (“Innervisions”); Demon’s mix of hot-buttered house, filtered beats, and dodging bass lines (“DJ Cam Sound System”); and Extra Lucid’s psychotropic, Tangier-tinged take on “Meera.” Astutely calibrated, the 13-track excursion remains true to Cam’s dubby, dusty core, never veering so wildly away from his own understated pitch that the inspirational sparks get lost in overheated translation. (JH) |
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“Cheerleader Bathroom Sex Brawl-” headline or porn title? Or, Mean girls are good for business.
Posted: Thursday January 19, 2006 9:45AM; Updated: Thursday January 19, 2006 9:45AM
TAMPA, Fla. (AP) — A former Carolina Panthers cheerleader received six months probation after pleading guilty to disorderly conduct and obstructing a police officer for her role in a restaurant bathroom brawl.
Angela Keathly, 26, entered her plea Wednesday. The Nov. 6 fight broke out after women in line to use the bathroom accused Keathly and fellow cheerleader Victoria Renee Thomas of hogging a stall to have sex.
Members of the Topcats cheer squad had come to Florida to watch the Panthers play the 
Tampa Bay Buccaneers . The Panthers fired the pair.
Thomas, who has denied the sex allegations, has pleaded not guilty to giving a false name to a police officer, battery and unlawful display of a license. The giving a false name charge is a felony; the other two charges are misdemeanors.
Thomas is being sued by a bar patron who claims Thomas punched her.
Missing Persons had it right – “What are words for?” Thanks for the reminder Dale. Ever since I became aware of Capote’s stellar adolescent literary debut, I’ve labored under the pretense of producing the next great Mexican American PoMoHomo narrative, right behind John Rechy and Richard Rodriguez. I often suffered in silence the sight of comparable talent cashing in on its will to power, lest I be denounced a sore loser, a bitter has-been that never was. Within recent weeks, two such raconteurs du jour on my BS watchlist were revealed as unreliable narrators deluxe – JT Leroy and James Frey. Regarding their entrees into literary celebrity from the shadows, I bit my tongue, hoping to squeeze out the epic saga that lay incubating in the back of mind. To no avail. On the upside, if these scandals are really just the messy birth of a new genre, then maybe there’s still hope. Schadenfreude, anyone?
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Madonna impersonator La Terremoto de Alcorcón from Spain does Michael Jackson.
Thriller is one word for it.
Bonus beats: Love is in the Air.
The most anticipated fetus since Jesus Christ has revealed himself on a tortilla.
As foretold in the good book, the tortilla has revealed itself on Ebay.
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Friday the 13th: Derrick Carter ’s back in town.
1979: One of my biggest anxieties is that my latch-key generation couldn’t pick up the glittering music gauntlet thrown down by my mom and her pack of divorced disco dykes. After the Disco Demolition in Comiskey Park, what hope is there?
1989: The wee hours of the night, the LAPD bursts onto the dancefloor with flashlights waving as we’re sweating and swishing to this strange sound in a warehouse on the other side of the river.
1993: Weary from the Rodney King riots and in love with the idea of being in love with the ex, and DJ culture, I move to Chi-town. Within weeks I am single again, working in a dive bar, hanging out at bootleg discos.
2001: Weeks after 9/11, jump start a limited series of special guest DJ nights at Passerby with Gavin, Steve and support from Index – 
Back Room; motto: “Bumpin the Night.” Spinning “platters that matter”: Gus Gus, Liquid Liquid and a motley crew of industry stalwarts including Honey Dijon, Adam Goldstone, Andy Reynolds, Danny Wang, Brennan Green, Dan Givens, Bil Coleman, Lady Bunny, abd Ben Davis, from Paperecordings – home to (pre-Royksopp) Those Norweigans, and the essential tribute to the Disco Demolition - Kaminzky Park. Passersby included: Elijah Wood, Bjork, Micheal Stipe, Malcolm MacLaren, Anthony Heydon Guest, Chris Ofili, and an assortment of art-world types who “never thought they’d be into house music.”
2004: Miami, WMC, running from one club to another, I am stopped by yet another hand in my face with a flyer. “Derrick Carter surprise gig tonite.” Hours later, the sun’s rising over a Tiki Hut beer garden, a packed handful of sunburnt people dancing under silk roses dangling from chicken wiring as ivy climbs deco walls toward the rising pink light. Blistered and bloodshot, I stumble to the shore and watch morning break over the Atlantic.
2005: T + I text message our way onto the guest list and into the DJ booth, camera phones flashing…
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Until Jan 17, download a live mix here.
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In the Slovakian Republic, newborns in the hospital are hooked up to headphones to help them relax.
I just got a slap in the ass.
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Post Secret – hush. The Smoking Gun – puff on this.
The final note from one of the 12 coal miners to perish shortly after New Year’s in West Virginia: see them on the Other Side…
On the New York Times web site, PBS has placed an ad for Frontline’s Country Boys documentary airing tonight. Something loves the smell of synergy…
As our cities rumble and crumble into rubble and babble, is this final note some kind of Morse code from above to seek out truly higher ground? Is small-town America that ground? Judging by the Oxycontin epidemic, they’re certainly high. But, higher than Lindsay Lohan?
While we’re at it, one of the more salacious emails left over from last year: the TomKatBox theory – meow. Just because you’re worth it – Ricky Martin on the beach. “An editor returning from a photo shoot once said…”
A year ago, strung-out, homeless, uninsured, on the lam, 
I finally conceded the city, opting to high-tail it upstate and hide out with the ex – only to be saved by this last minute (New Year’s Eve/Friday/lunchtime) job offer.
Nine months later, I was hosting a house-warming party “where Columbus (Ave) meets Duke Ellington (Blvd),” and whistling along with Blossom Dearie, “Bye bye Country Boy.”
It’s all very ironic and tragic and shit from the 10025.
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Post Secret – hush. The Smoking Gun – puff on this.
The final note from one of the 12 coal miners to perish shortly after New Year’s in West Virginia: see them on the Other Side…
On the New York Times web site, PBS has placed an ad for Frontline’s Country Boys documentary airing tonight. Something loves the smell of synergy…
As our cities rumble and crumble into rubble and babble, is this final note some kind of Morse code from above to seek out truly higher ground? Is small-town America that ground? Judging by the Oxycontin epidemic, they’re certainly high. But, higher than Lindsay Lohan?
While we’re at it, one of the more salacious emails left over from last year: the TomKatBox theory – meow. Just because you’re worth it – Ricky Martin on the beach. “An editor returning from a photo shoot once said…”
A year ago, strung-out, homeless, uninsured, on the lam, I finally conceded the city, opting to high-tail it upstate and hide out with the ex – only to be saved by this last minute (New Year’s Eve/Friday/lunchtime) job offer.
Nine months later, I was hosting a house-warming party “where Columbus (Ave) meets Duke Ellington (Blvd),” and whistling along with Blossom Dearie, “Bye bye Country Boy.”
It’s all very ironic and tragic and shit from the 10025.
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Web designer and metamediawhore Andrew Fischer “a.k.a. the “Forehead Guy,” who received international attention after successfully marketing and selling advertising space on his forehead, earning over $50,000 last January by wearing a temporary tattoo has unveiled plans to make his forehead available for corporate branding once again. Fischer has decided to make his 30-day head-turning campaign an annual marketing event. His next forehead auction will go live on eBay Tuesday, Jan. 10, with the starting bid of one cent.” - Brandweek
In other brand news: Chevy is revamping the old Camaro, while GM pink-slips thousands. Virtual product placement continues apace (“brand manager/script editor – whatever”).
Meanwhile, in Hollywood, Aaron’s Records, 
the venerable record shop that nursed many struggling musicians over 40 years (including the ex’s band), is shuttin its doors, liquidating its stock.
Crunch!
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Ariel Sharon wakes from his medically induced coma, and the net is buzzing with what if’s. Since he won’t be leading anymore, he might have time to do some reading. Perhaps perusing the blogosphere, he might come upon this posting from Couterpunch.org by Andrew Wilson:
What If He Was Reincarnated in the Womb of a Palestinian Woman?
Naturally, I’m curious about parallels in border struggles worldwide, whether Israeli/Palestine, French/Muslim, English/Irish, American/Mexican, Rich/Poor. All power structures are cyclical – kinda like, er, reincarnation.
As our Christian-fueled over-population boom continues to take its toll on our global resources, I am intrigued by the imperial response to colonial uprisings. The Lord did say multiply; he didn’t prescribe economic or politcal criteria.
Now that the brown masses have executed the Almighty’s directive with due alacrity, what will become of their teeming offspring? Where will these incoming tides settle? What leaders will rise to and ride in on the crest of these waves? What changes will be washed ashore and swept away? Or will Orwell’s Animal Farm prove right again and render intra-species reincarnation pointless?
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