She's Not Mama Cass, You Know

So, I don't know a lot about Buffy The Vampire Slayer. But I was told that there was an untransmitted pilot where Willow was played by a fat girl. How great is that? I'd love to see a whiny, wheezey girl waddling around after Buffy*, bitching: "Hey, slow down Blondie! I need a ham sandwich before you slay again!" The above title was someone else's response to that image.

Continuing with this theme, I asked why Xander got fat as the series progressed. "He's not fat. He's poofy," said a fan. "He's tubby," I said. This fan said it was a progressive thing, so now I think I missed many episodes with Xander going "Buffy, can I have some extra butter on my pop-tart?**" So I guess the series did get its resident fat chick in the end.

*Tom Baker always wanted a companion like this for Dr Who. Years later, in the Big Finish audio dramas, the Doctor (not Tom's) got one, a fat, old Art History Professor named Maggie.

**Obscure joke. The Basselopes all died out from this, which was reported by Milo Bloom for the Bloom Picayune as "Fast Living". Remember the Bloom County comic strip?

Oh my Sweet Auny Hokey

I haven't laughed this hard since their article on the YLT concert disaster:
College DJ Thinks He Has Cult Following.

What I do at Work

So after weeks and weeks of listening to 69 Love Songs, I have several songs not just stuck but entrenched in my head. One of these is "Let's Pretend We're Bunny Rabbits." At work today, I thought to myself: "Let's pretend we're Stephin Merritt." Working all day on the premise, I came up with this little ditty:

If you knew who they longed
for you now that you're gone,
You'd be blue and you'd sing,
Sing a blue, blue, blue song,
And in the fading light...


Let's pretend we're Stephin Merritt,
Let's stay home all night long
Let Archies, Heroes and Sixth-notes
Say being sad ain't wrong.

And after a couple of beers,
We'll put on morning suits,
I want to dribble some tears
And do like Manics do...

I can keep it down all day
I can keep it sad all night...
Let's pretend we're Stephin Merrit
Until we come of age.

What I got for my Birthday:

One (1) card from people at work. It ruled. It had a lady drinking a martini on the front with the caption: "Happy brithday to Someone whose idea of getting close to nature is..." You open it up and on the inside it says...
"Wearing a Leopard print thong."
Oh yeah.

One (1) copy of Geek Love. Whoot. Wanted that for six months.

And nothing else.

However, I am going tonight to get my tattoo. Inside of my upper arm, a little Mondrian square similar to this: Here But a little smaller.

Also, I saw the Polyphonic Spree Thursday and had a very strane experience with a girl.
More later, I expect.

How Not to Spend a Holiday:

In a radio station Control Room, alone.

With the rest of your family willfully (and gleefully) on the other side of the country -- sending a zillion email pictures of their fabulous times at Sea World, the Grand Canyon, San Fransisco, Los Angeles and a million cute wayside tourist traps.

With Laura Llew also on the other side of the Country,

With no date.

With a bottle of rum, a decade-old Dr Who novel and a Belle and Sebastian album for company.

Believe it or not, this did not start out quite as depressing as it turned out.
Oh well.

Sniff this...

Some get a kick from cocaine...
But if I took even one sniff...


Cocaine.
You like to talk,
you like to run,
but most of all you like to have fun.


Which drug should you be hooked on? [now with pictures]
brought to you by Quizilla

Not for all North Carolina,
Not for all my little words...

In my thinking for new posts, I had thought about listing all the things I want for my birthday. Yes, it is upcoming, but it's got me quite upset. It's not like when I was younger, and they described new abilities like drinking and smoking and driving. Birthdays just now mark out getting older and things not accompished, like real relationships and success. Blech.
So yeah, I want stuff, but I won't get it, so I'm not listing anything.*

Tonight was quiz night at the Skylight Exchange. I always enjoy that -- we won a round tonight, "Cartoons", with the answers Madcatt and Brain, Tex Avery, Buttercup Blossom and Bubbles, Snagglepuss, Spike, and two others -- and won some beer. Yay. Other wise, we pretty much sucked, except for another round where we tied. Well, hmm. Two out of five rounds ain't too bad, really. Except maybe for me having to do a Tweety Bird impersonation. See beer, winning of as to why I did that tie breaker.

Last night was the music staff meeting for WXDU. Heh heh, we sit around listening to all the music we get sent from all the bands and labels and such. "They suck" or "They rule" or "Why are we even listening to RICHARD PALMERS** new album?!" are the rules of the day, along with liberal gossip about local bands and their sexual proclivities***. I walked away with these albums to review:

The Temporary Things -- S/T (Self released as far as we could tell) Beats me
The Tyde -- Twice (Rough Trade) Sort of 2nd-rate Indie Pop, as far as I could tell
Monsieur Mo Rio -- Bonne Chance (S.H.A.D.O.) Very silly lounge/ambient
Hint -- Portakabin Fever (Ninja Tune) Questionable lounge/ambient

I'm sure proper reviews will follow. Speaking of...

The Eaves (S/T) Acefu Records, NYC

According to their label's information, the Eaves have gpne through three drummers and two guitarists in the past year. I'd havbe thought that gives their debut album a very confused, unsettled sound. Don't get me wrong, it's an album with a great deal of variety but there is a consistent basic feel to it -- imagine Trembling Blue Stars and the Cure crawled into a blender.: sad, wistful lyrics that go out into extended thematic explorations of pop, rock and synth sounds. Nothing terribly new and explosive, but interesting and fun.
Favs: Tracks 1 (the most Cure-y), 5 (80s synths and drums versus 60s Surf guitar sound) and 7 (Very Yo La Tengo-esque rock)
4 out of 5 *s

The word, according to WXDU as spake by Jaylemurph

I'm now reading Dr Who: Sleepy. I want to explore the gross excesses of Virgin's mid-90s dark Doctor. I plan to read one more later one to get the truly gothic feel, like those written by Russel T Davies and Matthew Davies, Dr Who fans and writer and script editor, respectively, of Queer as Folk.
Kate Orman's stuff is quite delightful, complex and believable. She can work subtle use of plot and characterization, but at only 60 pages in, it's hard to decide where it's all going.

Word of the day: Justicorps -- elaborate mid 18th Century military uniforms with elaborately embroidered coats. As tonight's quiz theme was the mid-18th Century, this was an appopriate question. We duly got it wrong.

*Okay, so yeah, I'm quoting the wrong Love Song. I know it needs to be "I Don't Want to Get Over You" but I'm too caught up being 17 to care.

**You know, as in "Simply Irrestible" and "Addicted to Love"?

***Well, I DO love gossip. And music. And if I might as well mix the two, especially when the third element is sex, of which I get None.

No, Really. This time I'm Back

I've noticed I haven't really been keeping this up lately. Especially last night when I was out and something hysterical happened and I thought "I really must write about this" -- more of which, later -- and realized that I had written more than a sentence or two in weeks.
I hope I can manage to a bit better.
Part of the problem is my wonky computer that since I've gotten the Internet again is prone to crashing. Another part is me being in #sinister all the time. After being away so long, I'd forgotten how addictive that can be, and it's induced me to not practice my guitar or piano or write or do too much else when at home. And posting from work is weird. It's not quite as private and leads to work-related ing: "This soy latte tastes like /soy/" says some woman, or "This hot water I put over ice has gone all cold!"
Well, yes, it would really, wouldn't.

Hopefully, I'll get some changes going on within this site soon. I've got somone offering to fix up this computer and the promise of a new one within a few weeks, so hopefully I can include some more local links to places like Go! Studios and the Cat's Cradle and some local bands so you can have a better idea of what I'm going on about.

I haven't been going out quite as much -- paying off bills and saving money for coming guests and trips to Scotland do suck up the available funds, as radio work does time.
I have two shows a week for the summer Wednesdays from Midnight to three am and the old Friday 3 to 5 am slot. I'm also on the music staff now, so I go to their weekly meetings and spend time listening to stuff to review it. This week it's The Eaves (imagine Trembling Blue Stars with Cure-y overtones).
But I do go out a bit -- again, see below. A show or two a week and trivia night at the Skylight Exchange, for example. No dates, sadly, but this is largely my fault I suppose.

Now... Last night.
It was Go! Room 4, a show of local bands, Pleasant, Gerty and North Elementary. The latter two had played a benefit show at the Cradle last Friday, of which I cought NE. They (NE) are rapidly becoming one of my favourite local acts. Rock Music, I says, and alive and kicking. If there's a continuum of pop into power pop and into rock, Elementary goes through the cusp of power pop and resides mostly in the rock section and it shows in their performance. Loud! Guitars into the speakers! Excess of Animal Spirits, as they would have said in the Long Ago. Their saving grace -- and what prevents them from becoming a tedious bog-standard mainsteam act is their twin-born since of play and musicality. The music might be loud, but it's well thought out, comprehensible and fun. Both to listen to and to watch performed. Their album -- Out of Phase -- is great, but -- of course -- they're better live, and what comes of as more poppy and less interesting recorded shows it rocky spine in performance.
Pleasant started things off. I know next to nothing about them -- I'd not heard of them before. They were a sort of off-kilter rocky, a hard-edge sound delivered with a sort of catchy, punk-tinged squeaky vocalist in a Star Wars Storm Trooper tee. Not having heard them before, it was hard for me to make any real judgements about them. It was a good opening act for the show; hopefully they can get a bit more together in their act and polish up some before too much longer.
In between came Gerty. I must have missed them last week at the Cradle, cause I'd remember these guys. I really liked them. Good, good music with an ace performance. Their music was the poppiest of the night, with an explicit and delicious 80s edge to it. They had some glitches with their imaginary drummer but carried on anyway. Vocals were split between the guy and the girl, both of which had strong sound. Fun stuff! They've got a new album out and gave away a copy in a dance contest during their 80s-iest songs. My friend Lisa was there and for their set we sat on the stairs deriding our own ability to dance -- "I need a short for when I'm dancing: 'I'm not epileptic!' " -- and feebly, ironically twitching to the beat. She stood up on the balcony to do her Molly Ringwald/Breakfast Club Dance (dead on, it was) and won. I thought "That is the stereotypical night out with Jay. Sitting in a corner mocking something and then WINNING it by accident." Typical. I people can cofirm this.
The boy singer seemed really to like Lisa, "The Girl on the Stairs", and besides calling her down to the stage to collect her prize, he later gave her another album. It was quite odd when later, as he was collecting email addys for band releases, he asked me, "You guys have the same address, right?"
Oh yeah, so you hit on the girl THEN think she's muh woman?! Seems me and Gerty-boy needed to step outside and discuss ettiquette. That or property rights, one.
But we didn't. And I got one of their albums, even if *I* had to pay $5 for it. But I did get a free sticker.

The night was elsewise pretty grand: I got a free beer and played a great new 80s videogame (Some racing game where you're a yellow car collecting flags and being chased by red cars. You can use a smoke screen to stop 'em! Anybody know names?) John, the singer from NE, knew Lisa and her fanzine, Thunderpants. Admit it. You love the name. He volunteered to make a disc for the second volume. This is where I blunder into the scene. John leaves with Lisa pondering making a new one and me volunteering (begging? "Really, I've got degrees in criticism and writing! I write reviews!") to help.

And now some sundries:

Book of the day: Ummm. I've been eschewing real books lately in favour of decade-old Dr Who novels from Virgin and BBC books*: I've gone through Last of the Gaderene, Love and War, The Scales of Injustice, First Frontier, The Tomb of Valdemar, Blood Harvest and am currently reading Nightshade. I've been given a copy of Pynchon's Mason and Dixon, but it looks so massive and daunting there on my nightstand I hestitate to pick it up.

Word of the day: Contre-temps. A very me Gallicism I've been using of late, meaning literally "against-times". A good description of a social conflict between a scandal-inducing disagreable and a snide look. Sort of the penetrating, low-level effect that would send undettes through Society.

This post brought to you by: The Magnetic Fields cover of Bowie's "Heroes", "Come Back from San Fransisco"; Kings of Convience, "Toxic Girl"; Sondre Lerche's album "Faces Down"; and The Eaves.

*As they STILL haven't gotten any in the US since last May...

I am Going through a Period of Extended Llew-absence

This explains a lot.
*sighs*

Ignore this.

I need to post it somewhere I won't lose it.
It certainly has nothing whatsoever to do with a boy in a band. Oh no.

http://www.indyweek.com/durham/2001-12-12/live.html

Oh Yeah?


What type of Indie are you? (now with pictures)
brought to you by Quizilla

He's Small.
He's Skinny.
He's Indie

I am of course in love:
Sondre Lerche.

Though I must learn how his name is pronounced.

That is all.

I'm Back. And It's About Time*

So. Internet connection is up and (somewhat) running. Something causes my computer to crash at inopportune times. Frequent inopportune times. But still, my mIRC program seems to work most of the time. Yay #sinister! (Yeah, I'm back to #1 in the stats as well). That's the most important thing, really, with this being a second.
I can't check my email, but I can do that at work.

So what's been up?
It was the Week of the Shows. I saw a show every night for close to a week. The Mercury Program/Mono at Go! Studios, The Weedeaters (featuring Ken Mosher of the Squirrel Nut Zippers and Robert Sledge of Ben Folds Five) at the Cave, Pedro the Lion (See below) at the Cradle, back to GO! for the Neins, Jett-Rink and Sorry About Dresden (another local show) and then back to the Cradle on Saturday for Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks. It's been a bit too long to do any good reviews, but J'adore Jett-Rink. Viva (recently voted the best performer in the Triangle) is the singer of this punk band and I love, love, love them. They have Dr Who-esque keyboards... their description, not mine... and a sound all the kids adore. And as for Viva's writhing, leaping, crowd-joing performance, it's pure rawk swoonage matieral.
And Neil, the Record Shop boy was there, so I spent a great deal of time hiding. And drinking Miller High Life. Hey, yo: It's the Champagne of Beers.
So, generally, that week was smoking, drinking and being a Chapel Hill Scenester. And yeah, I did wait hours to see Stephen Malkmus after the show. Talk about your Hard Living causing Grizzled (but cute) looks.

I went home for Mother's Day and quickly repaired Elsewhere for Recovery.
That elsewhere being Hendersonville, NC, the new home of le Llew. I took Highway 64 out to visit, so I passed beautiful mountian top vistas, the gorgeous Lake Lure (where they filmed Dirty Dancing) on a perfect Spring day -- the water was a aqua-green like the ocean in high summer -- as I zipped around mountian curves at an excessive speed. I went through little towns (Bat Cave** or Chimney Rock) with the radio blasting Gloria Estefan's cover of Turn the Beat Around with the windows down and singing at the top of my voice. I realized I made the town of Chimney Rock gayer than it had ever been.
I wound up eventually at the little lake across from Laura's snoozing and watching ducks til she arrived. We mooched around her new complex casing, in essence, the entire joint. "I want /that/ chandelier!" I was pleased at the influence I've had on the girl's criminal instincts.
Then we cased the town. Nervous as I was to run into the Idiot Steve ("I'll roller blade uphill the wrong way up one-way street!") we decided to inspect the local mall. There was a little Christian book store (fish mints! scripture cookies! christian urban music! sodomizable indie-esque Xian boys!) and a disturbing kid with the mesmer stare and a lust for human blood. Well, presumably. We ran away too fast to be sure. You would, too.
We ate -- whilst it was fine pizza, alas there was no tale to tell about the waiter, Zeke -- and went to buy paint. Violet Puff. I realized it was the most domestic thing I had ever done with a girl before. This was made definite when we ran into one of Laura's acquintance, as I'd hate to say a girl with that many freckles was a friend. She peered at me like I was meat. That or a marriagible man in an Austen novel. I want to plant one on Llew just for effect, but discretion stayed my hand. Or lips, rather.
Then we went back to chez Lou's. I felt all like Hyacinth Bucket, thinking "This places has such... possibilities for entertaining!" I can't wait to see the Luv Shak, her extra bedroom kitted out as a Make Out Heaven, with velvet flock wall paper and a heart-shaped bed and red shag carpet. Sinister Spin the Bottle, here we come!

Life, since then, has been predictable dull. I work. I sleep. I practice piano and listen to the mix CD I burned and try to remember what I put on it at 3 am. I went to a really bad party (So... You're Gay. What's that like?) last night. I missed the Belle and Sebastian gig in Glasgow last night. I work early tomorrow.
Bleurgh.

That's enough for now. Tomorrow, when I'm bored and don't have weeks to catch up on, I'll return to the usual headings and supply all the links this post needs.
Chow.

*For those of you (Most) who don't get this, this was the BBC Tagline for the Dr Who Telemovie with the Pertwee Logo. (Dr Who, Time, Geddit?) 'Cept the Radio Times fucked it up.

**Alas, not nearly as exciting as you'd expect. Not one single teen-aged ward named Dick clad in tights or a unitard. Or even any amusing bats. Pah.

So.... What did you do tonight?

I saw these groups: Esther Drang, Stratford 4 and Pedro the Lion.
I talked to the leader of PtL about what they want to hear played on the radio.
Actually, it was Night of the Emo Kids. I was by Far the Oldest About that Night. I discovered they'd got the old school video game Crystal Caves in and played that at length (and got the High Score and All).[ And played them all through the opening acts. Yeah, so the Stratford 4 desperately want ot be the Cure from 1993...]
The Major used to take me to the Little General Convencience Store on a Friday night to play 75 cents worth of Crystal Caves when I was 4. It says something -- I dunno what -- that I got further tonight than ever with him around, even drunk as I was. Also, I was 18 till I knew its name was actually Crystal Caves and not Bentley Bear...
They also had Galaga and Ms Pacman, also old particular favs.
Then I met Pat.
He left his home in Charlotte to see Pedro the Lion. He got a flat tire on the interstate, like 6 miles from the Cradle. He needed help.
Oh yeah. He was 17. As in High School. As in: I'll miss my final exam tomorrow morning! As in: "The Smiths? Who? And who are this Belle and Sebastian you keep nattering on about?"
{As opposed to the Dirty Old Scotsman I also met -- from Glasgow, who was, well, old and dirty)
We met a ramdom dude who gave them a new tire (Gave!) to drive back home with.
Lucky, lucky pretty boy (with curly black hair and all) who didn't meet a dirty old man who'd take advantage of them.
Sad, sad old man who didn't press his advantage, really.

Sigh

So still no internet connection at home (I have service now AND the modem, but the software necessary for proper installation doesn't like my aging, idiosyncratic computer) and I lead a boring life* so nothing to post about really.
On the plus side, it's almost my birthday so I'm planning that festivity. Also, I bought 3... 6... 9... Seconds of Light on vinyl and a Merge Records comp (for $6, people! 20 great songs for $6!!) AND I have free tickets to see The Butchies (no, I don't know who they are either, but Kimya Dawson from the Mouldy Peaches is opening. Also I have this odd belief there might be a gay indie boy to pick up there tonight, for some reason**).

*When I'm not hanging out with the Essex Green or the Pinkslips, as I have this week. Yep, right after the show we all went along to Lantern and drank. We talked about their show in Scotland (E G is a side project of two people in The Ladybug Transistor) and they knew Gordon, my favourite bartender in the world, once again proving he is Damn Cool.

**They're all over the place in Chapel Hill, apparently, but damned if I can find one.

Scenester, Hipster
Indie, Emo

So remember this post about me being mistaken for a Ryan McGinty indie-type model? (26 Feb)
So the Raleigh News and Observer finally got around to printing the story that evolved from that fiasco. They were really pissed I wasn't one of those kids, so I'm not actually in the story but it sums of the local scene with amusing precision: "You can be on a high horse in a one-horse town." He he.
Actually, they do a pretty piss poor job. Chapel Hill, local scenester paradise gets the short end of the stick and the OCSC gets a "granola" description that is so not true. But still.
If you want to be a hipster, apparently one must read this.
But be prepared to laugh your proverbials off.

You Probably Heard Me Cum From There

My cross between sex and drugs returns after a fucking year:
Dr Who books return to US.

If you missed my radio show, You Are A Sucker!

It was officially my best ever. It made you shake your big ole butt, lie back in the summer sun, rock like a girly punk and croon along softly at 3 am in the rain.
I'm so posting the flowsheet when I get it back.
Course that takes THREE MONTHS!

I Forgot

So Laura is Officially the funniest person I know. She claims to have been very tired whilst watching Queer as Folk and I believe it. The distinctly graphic sex scenes apparently didn't phase her (yeah, like she's the only girl in the world who likes watching Gay Porno) but she made no real mention of them. What did she comment on, you may well ask:

Laura *watches the hott 15 year old try to score with an older guy*: Why doesn't he try to get boys his own age? He'll spend the rest of his life trying to do that.

Jay: *says nothing for 7 minutes because he's laughing so hard he gets oxygen starvation* He he... *gasp* He he... Oh wait. There was a Dr Who reference just then.

PS: Laura, the next episode, he gives a boy a handjob at school.

The only thing I don't like about that show is how much sex is going on. Specifically, these guys can't take a step without falling into some guy's mouth. Me, I can't pay people to get it. Maybe the blind thing will evince the odd pity fuck.

Hint, Hint

How to tell I'm not really listening.

Brian: So... I saw you at the show the other night.

Jay: Fine. How are you?

Brian: You really like them, right?

Jay: Oh, it was my friend Laura.

Brian: I SAID: You like them, right?

Jay: *very sweetly* You obviously have no sense of discretion or self-preservation or you'd have walked away by now.

Brian: *backs off slowly*

Yeah. I don't like being ditched AT ALL, yo.

PS: I made one tiny change to the site that cracks me up. Can you spot it?