Friday Random 11

It’s one more random than 10!

You would think that some people would have learned a thing or two from Katrina about commenting on a terrible disaster. There were still bodies floating in the floodwaters when the political vultures descended, trying to score cheap points about government aid or make racist comments about black people or that the disaster was vengeance from God. That was the turning point against the conservative movement, where people with any semblance of morality and ethics saw just how nasty, bigoted, and out of control the far right is. It was their A Few Good Men moment, where they dropped the phony mask of compassionate conservatism, a mask they were forced to wear by their handlers in the GOP, and said they ordered the Code Red.

Once again, they have reared their ugly heads. First, Pat Robertson picked up the Jerry Falwell mantle of religious stupidity and said that Haiti’s problem is that they made a pact with Satan to achieve independence from the French. My favorite part is that he punctuated his comments with, “True story.” Holy fuck, literally.

While it’s hard to believe that, in 2010, someone who thinks entire countries are in league with the devil can own his own broadcasting group, at the same time it’s easy to dismiss Robertson as a loon who just attracts a lot of other loons. Rush Limbaugh, on the other hand, is a calculating, conniving, soulless piece of sleaze. An earthquake ravages an already ravished nation, and the first thing out of that fucker’s head is that Obama is going to exploit it for political gain and that we already donate to Haiti through our taxes. Would it surprise anyone if Limbaugh would spit in the outstretched hand of a Haitian earthquake victim?

I’ll tell you what, Limbaugh would have been a collaborator in Vichy France. I guarantee if a foreign power came into America and promised to eliminate all the Democrats and liberals while allowing conservatives to set up their own government, Rush Limbaugh would be first in line to work with them and turn over his political opponents to the occupiers. I feel very fortunate to live in the U.S., but that draft-dodging, pill-popping, racist, misogynist asshole epitomizes everything I don’t like about my country. It’s too bad he’s not the one trapped in the rubble of an earthquake, because then we could tell him, Gee, Rush, we’d love to help you, but then you won’t learn how to get out of collapsed building on your own. We’re going to let the invisible hand of the free market dig you out.

Okay, enough bile, time for some tunes….

1) “What Makes You Happy,” Liz Phair. LOL. I usually start the random playing while I am typing whatever intro/rant/dick jokes lead into the songs, then pick up whatever's playing when I get to the list. I’m not kidding when I say that, as soon as I finished typing the sentence about Limbaugh being crushed in a building, this started playing. Thank you, iTunes.

2) “Die Die Die,” The Avett Brothers. Oh God, and then this. Well played. By the way, if you like folky/acousticy music at all, you need to own some Avett Brothers. Now, time to keep my fingers crossed for a tune about having a heart attack….

3) “Star 6 & 7 8 9,” The Orb. Too bad. This is supposed to be post-rave chill music, but I find that it puts the Ambien in ambient.

4) “Stacked Crooked,” The New Pornographers. Their first three albums are stacked with some of the best tunes of the decade. They crank out catch songs like Hersey cranks out Kisses. What makes Twin Cinema my favorite is the drums. There’s a thump to this album that makes it rock hard even during the delicate harmonies and shiny la-la-las. I can never have too much thump.

5) “Big City,” Operation Ivy. Likewise, there’s crazy bass that adds some covering machine gun fire to the screamy, chrody charge.

6) “To Here Knows When,” My Bloody Valentine. AKA Droney McDeonerson and the Feedbacks playing “To Here Knows When This Will Actually Get Interesting.” Five-and-a-half minutes of studio blah blah, the shoegaze equivalent of the wanky drum solo.

7) “We Were Sick,” The Thermals. That’s more like it. There’s not a lot of originality here, true, but there is a lot of charm to The Thermals three-chord soul-searching. Sometimes I think they’re more obsessed about the afterlife than I am.

8) “All I Want Is You,” Roxy Music. Even when they loosen their ties and unbutton their French cuffs before rocking out a bit, they still sound so fashionably put together. What's not fashionably put together: Bryan Ferry's hair in this Top of the Pops performance. That bit of French he sings can't hide Le Mullet.

9) “Call My Name,” Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. I had to check if this was Erasure. It almost reaches "like," but there’s too much 80s packed in here. Plinky synths, super-busy electronic beat complete with Wal-Mart robo drum fills, and too much John Hughes montage earnestness in the vocals. Do less.

10) “867-5309,” Tommy Tutone. The most famous phone number in history? Here’s the funny thing about this: if someone gave you their number the way Tutone does, it would annoy you. You always pause at the dash, but here he puts the pause after the first four numbers. There would be at least one if not two What was that number again’s before you’d hand the asshole a pen and ask him to write it down.

11) “Voodoo Child (Slight Return),” The Jimi Hendrix Experience. This deserves a fist-pumping Fuck yeah! My favorite Hendrix song and one of the toughest-sounding guitars ever, like a six-string street fight. He manages to add all this chaos and disruption and blood without ever losing the main riff or the beat of the song. I guess that’s why he’s a guitar god and I’m just a Guitar Hero—and one of the lame hero’s at that, like the Greatest American Hero.

We might possibly hit 40 degrees tomorrow, in January! You know what that means: bye bye pants. Hope you have as much fun as I will.