KINGBLIND: Music, Art & Entertainment Music News, Album & Concerts Reviews, MP3's, Music Videos, Art / Entertainment and much more!

Archive for July, 2006

Monday, July 31, 2006

Kingblind Downloads

Mastodon:: Crystal Skull (from the new album Blood Mountain)

Mastodon:: Capillarian (from the new album Blood Mountain)

New York Dolls “Lookin’ For A Kiss (The Henry Rollins Show)”

New York Dolls “Dance Like A Monkey (The Henry Rollins Show)”

The Sleepy Jackson::Personality (One Was A Spider, One Was A Bird)(Album Review)

Psych-pop practitioner, blue eyeliner fan, and reigning indie-pop weirdo Luke Steele counts George Harrison, Walt Disney, and Woody Guthrie, among others, as his influences. The scary part? You can actually hear these disparate inspirations skipping across the surface of The Sleepy Jackson’s lysergic, widescreen sophomore effort Personality (One Was A Spider, One Was A Bird). Having bowed in 2003 with the acclaimed Lovers, Australian singer-songwriter Steele (The Sleepy Jackson is largely a revolving cast of collaborators) spent the next two years laboring over the follow-up album, a work every bit as off-kilter and rapturously gorgeous as its predecessor. If anything, Personality is a bigger, bolder, more vivid album; the burden of expectation seems to have lit a fire underneath Steele, whose striking pop songs leap from the speakers, cascading layered, hushed vocals and cotton candy instrumentation. Effortlessly beautiful and dazzling in its ambitious glory, the pretentiously titled album is nevertheless a dense, rewarding confection that often feels like Brian Wilson on Ecstasy—the highlights abound, dappled with sunshine and surrealism. “Work Alone” soars on a Steele falsetto, while “Devil Was In My Yard” plays around with Isaac Brock-worthy lyrical opacity. Personality pushes all the same buttons as The Flaming Lips or Grandaddy, delivering the thinking man’s summer jam with “I Understand What You Want But I Just Don’t Agree” (no, it doesn’t have the titular brevity of fellow summer jam “Promiscuous”). The Sleepy Jackson are an oddball treat for those who want their pop music to color outside the lines. Steele has triumphed with this trippy, sprawling second record—should the masses unearth this quirky gem, rest assured that many more ears will be attuned to what comes next.
(Review by: Preston Jones)

Friday, July 28, 2006

Kingblind’s Favorite Finds

The Back the Future Movie You’ll Never See (Screenshots)
Back to the Future was actually filmed twice —once with Eric Stoltz in the role of Marty McFly, and once with Michael J. Fox. But despite Studio proclamations that only a few scenes were involved, the truth is that the majority of the film was shot with Eric Stoltz. The other actors confirmed it was flmed twice.

Scenes from Unfinished Terry Gilliam, Johnny Depp Film
Six minutes of footage from Terry Gilliam’s unfinished fantasy epic based on Don Quixote. Taken from a documentary called Lost in La Mancha, which chronicles the making of this doomed, almost cursed project.

Sneak Peek At The Simpsons Movie
During the annual Comic-Con Simpsons panel, creator/exec producer Matt Groening and fellow exec producers James L. Brooks and Al Jean thrilled the crowd with some first glimpses at the eagerly awaited The Simpsons Movie.

“Lost” Lands New Star, Reveals Numbers

1986 Velvet Underground documentary, parts 1-6 Via Goldenfiddle!

Kingblind Downloads

Siouxsie And The Banshees – Live At The Wharfield San Fran (25-04-02)

Beck Sessions at West 54th

Neko Case: Live, Orange House, Munich, Germany, May 11, 2006.

Raconteurs: 2006-07-23, San Francisco

Babyshambles: “The Man Who Came to Stay”

Thursday, July 27, 2006

Tapes ‘N Tapes:: The Loon (Album Review)

The Loon succeeds where other indie debuts stall, and it lays in Tapes ’n Tapes’ acute awareness of how people will approach their music.

Due to the “huge splash” they’ve made on various reputable music blogs, a superficial listener cannot help but tag their sound with the perfunctory markers of bands only associated through online exposition and placement, rather than appreciate their individuality. There could be someone out there at this very instant with eleven times my capacity for caffeine, perusing various online forums and classifying Tapes ’n Tapes as ” Rockus Alternativa Blackus Franciscus.”
Maybe someone’s even writing a witty repartee of how they detest their music as much as The Wizard of Oz.

Don’t misinterpret my words — order is an absolute necessity for our comprehension of all things, but often the parameters can result in unwieldy confines for a band to explore. Hype doesn’t simply shackle a group, it more often prepares listeners for a pretty killing. Even the best records, the ones whose pleasure is only enhanced with age, can be hamstrung by incessant Chinese whispers. In theory, one should experience an album objectively, but it’s difficult to remain recalcitrant to the inflammatory comments of experts who pretend to be great and powerful people and exploit their supposed superiority to play Pied Piper to a bunch of fox smart upstarts. Whether it’s buzz or backlash, it is designed to instigate a reactionary response that isn’t founded in the songs, but merely undermines their importance in the matter of their own analysis.

Don’t be fooled into believing that this is an argument for the old adage of letting the music do all the talking. Indeed, when it comes to spreading the wildfire, the aforementioned groups may be playing a crucial role in their own demise, whether it is the sorry story of the album not living up to a feverous first single, or, and far more pernicious, if a group manipulates the building blocks of the present age to fine-tune an omnipresent frequency that appeals to as many hearts as possible, whilst disregarding their own. And whilst one might comment that we’re all in the throes of change, and that even those transitions are in flux, the variations are occurring at such a minute level as to merely lead to equilibration around the centralised concepts that our beliefs and pleasure are founded on.

The Loon doesn’t attempt a revolution, but wryly acknowledges our every-day process of diagnostic siltation — assimilating rather than annihilating the well-worn codes, studying them to produce a sound that is only complementary to what we’ve come to learn on a cursory listen. The shapes might not have changed, but there are fundamental differences in its substance, whose insidious nature is revealed on further study.

So, one might give the most talked up song here, “Insistor,” a try and be pulled in by its magnetic and euphoric chorus. It’s not uncommon for groups to conjure up hallucinogenic highs to beguile our natural need for escapisms and entertainment. “Insistor” tackles the innate difficulties of the”Humming Betrayal” twofold: the chorus is neither overburdened with extraneous instrumentation nor is it dragged out for far too long, whilst the verses, given equal weighting, serve to contradict the impending rush in pace and musicianship. Tapes ’n Tapes, though, don’t succumb into the dreary footfalls of tension and release, instead blurring the lines between the two, and thus toying with our own expectations of what this song, this genre, this exercise should yield. Both the verses and choruses are propelled by a boundless energy and enthusiasm that, across The Loon’s eleven songs, never wavers.

The band isn’t trying to disengage your interest, either. There are no 4 minute leaf-rustling solos; The Loon is nothing short of an incredibly focused song suite, minus all the extraneous frivolities that you’ve gotten too used to hearing from an “incredibly focused song suite.” The weirdness lies more in the modulation of mutated details. “The Iliad” starts off all-twee before veering into a melange of neutered beats and keyboards masquerading as hooting owls. “Manitoba,” like much of the rest of the album, sports genuinely pretty guitar tinkles, the drums serenely waltzing across the floor, offering up a hand for the bass, and then, suddenly, a foot up into rockier terrains.

Perhaps most surprising is how genuinely affecting frontman Josh’s voicemanages to be, each word enunciated with a slight quiver, but nothing too flagrant as to solicit tunelessness. When, on the rollicking “Cowbell”, he intones that “I hate you from the heart,” it isn’t a conflagration, but rather the conflation of a strained tone, seemingly more suited to stream of conscious, with his thoughts, tangential, yet coagulated into singular sentiments, leaving a boisterous, rowdy backing to fray the edges. It’s this disembodied nature that perseveres to make every song more interesting than the sum of its parts.

And while The Loon is doused in enough gleeful Puckishness as to warrant comments about ‘individuality’ and ‘originality,’ one cannot forget that, even if the boundaries are being skewered, we are still within the realms of a well-worn genre, and, unsurprisingly, vague echoes of other groups filter through. Perhaps, in the sense that they lure conventional rock forms and clichés to be mutilated into sly calling cards, Tapes ’n Tapes hearken back to the sound of early Spoon. “Jakov’s Suite” may fool one into believing, with its leapfrogging guitar solo, a traditional rock out to be in store, but, right in the heat of the moment, the pace is dropped, the distortion dishevelled, and a melancholy melody left to ruminate over the change (“I’ve been hanging round for years”).

Such is the “dirty look” proponent around peddlers of this nature, though, that, when I did listen to The Loon for the first time, I came to the conclusion that it was an accomplished record, only marginally ahead of the rest of its struggling pack. As a whole, the album didn’t leap out of my speaker in a pink slip and start incanting to me the 40 reasons why I should plaster a beaming 84% on its flirtatious forehead.

Trust me, it just didn’t happen.

It’s naïve to think in our oversaturated, media-savvy generation that anything could remain sacred, or be capable of surprising us anymore. Tapes ’n Tapes know this, and don’t pretend to dress up their sound with zealous gimmickry. They retain a genuinely empathetic sincerity that deserves applause.
(Review by: Alan Baban)

Kingblind Downloads

Sleater-Kinney Unreleased Songs:
[mp3]I Don’t Care (May 2004)
[mp3]Giraffe (Jul/Dec, 2003)
[mp3]September 2000 (Sep 2000)
[mp3]For Corin’s Family (Nov 2000/Jan 2002)
[mp3]Factors Unknown (Oct 1999)
[mp3]Backlit (Oct 1999)
[mp3]Wipers (May – Jul 1999)
[mp3]Space Jam -10 minute jam song with Helium- (Mar 1998)
[mp3]Don’t Ask Why a.k.a. Why Ask Why (Mar/Apr 1996)


Betty Davis: S/T (Betty was Miles Davis’ wife) SUPER RAW FUNK

Wednesday, July 26, 2006


This Wednesday night. Starting at 9pm DJ Kingblind and DJ SABD will be spinning the best in old school Funk, Soul & R&B.

When: Wednesday July 26th 2006 (9pm till ??)
Where: Viceroy 2332 Second Ave : : Seattle WA 98121 PH – 206 – 956 – VICE
Cost: 100% FREE

Now here’s a quote direct from “The Stranger” about our Wednesday nights: “if soul music’s your thing, Wednesday nights at the Viceroy should make for a good, cozy late-night stop. DJ Self-administered Beat Down recently launched the debut of the Soul Hole, a weekly featuring obscure and old classics of the soul, funk, and R&B variety…”


Kingblind’s Favorite Finds

Trailer: American Hardcore, featuring Black Flag, Bad Brains and Minor Threat

Arrested Development lands on MSN / HDNet

A Rate Your Music user lists the 100 worst guitar riffs, licks, and solos.

Dave Navarro’s Flirting Edited From Reality Show

Band of Horses:: “The Funeral” Live on Letterman

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Golden Smog:: Another Fine Day (Album Review)

They started out as a kind of jokey supergroup involving a bunch of Midwest rockers, but Golden Smog has now evolved into a genuine concern for its key players: the songwriting constellation of Wilco’s Jeff Tweedy, the Jayhawks’ Gary Louris and Soul Asylum’s Dan Murphy. The group’s fourth release is another treasure trove of Americana, veering from elegant rockers (“Think About Yourself”) to stomping barroom workouts (“You Make It Easy”). Louris’ old bandmate Marc Perlman also drops by to lend a hand, channeling the Burrito Brothers on “Corvette.” For a bunch of jokesters, these guys deliver some seriously good music.

Kingblind’s Favorite Finds

10 Things I Hate About Commandments

Tarantino Confirms More Kill Bill!

100 Greatest Rock Guitarists

Tina Fey Leaving ‘Saturday Night Live’ for Prime-Time Comedy Show

Kingblind news that you can use

Clear Channel’s Live Nation buys House Of Blues for $350 million


The Decemberists Reveal ‘Crane Wife’ Details

Beck Posts New Track on His Website

The Mars Volta Delay Album Release

Early R.E.M. material to be anthologized

Monday, July 24, 2006

New York Dolls:: One Day It Will Please Us to Remember This (Album Review)

“Evolution is so obsolete,” growls David Johansen on Dance Like a Monkey – words from a man who obviously takes his lyrics to heart.

Having reformed two years ago at the behest of Morrissey, the lacquered (not to mention liquored) proto-punkers had gone 30 years since their last album release. Rather more seriously, they had also seen the deaths of four band members. It’s to their credit that you’d be hard pushed to notice the rather large hurdles jumped in order for these 13 tracks to be released – although the beefed-up production and Johansen’s more gravelly voice are a giveaway.

The band’s interests are still very much the same as they were three decades ago, as Fishnets and Cigarettes camply points out. Plenty of Music, with its Ronettes-meets-drunken-Beach-Boys stomp, proves that the Dolls’ capacity for romance and nostalgia has matured – even if they haven’t.

Kingblind Downloads

John Doe KCRW 93-96

Tapes ‘N Tapes 2006.6.5 Cambridge MA

Yo La Tengo:: Beanbag Chair (New Single)

Primal Scream – Some velvet morning (feat. Kate Moss)

Thursday, July 20, 2006

Peaches – ‘Impeach My Bush’ (Album Review)

Exciting news: Peaches has gone political. Mind you, she’s done so after her own unique fashion. “I’d rather f*ck who I want than kill who I’m told to,” runs the opening, endlessly-repeated line of her third LP, and one really couldn’t ask for a more successful fusing of geopolitical affairs and the inexhaustible sexual obsession of Canadian ex-schoolteacher Merrill Nisker.

Once “F*ck Or Kill” has sated Peaches’ politico tendencies, a track called “Tent in My Pants” pops up, and we’re plunged deep inside the pink-hued, sugar-walled monomania with which Peaches’ name is synonymous. Make no mistake: on the subject of her rapacious equal-opportunities sexuality, Miss Nisker has a lot to say for herself, and, consequently, plenty of these tracks have titles that might get you in trouble if they showed up on your hotel bill (“Downtown”, “Two Guys For Every Girl”, “Slippery Dick”…all of them, pretty much). So assertive of her libido is Peaches that you almost wonder if she’s trying to mask a deep-seated prudishness. Or maybe by writing that sentence your correspondent has revealed his own prudishness. It’s all so confusing.

Sonically, the story is less confusing. “Impeach my Bush” – and how funny you find that title may indicate whether or not this record is for you – sounds very much like Peaches’ first two records, and that’s no bad thing. Cheap and nasty electronica sidles up to crunchy punk-rock guitars, and to the ensuing din Peaches adds vocals that flit between banshee-like screeching and monotone rapping. Those rock guitars may fall foul of those for whom the electroclash era carries fond memories, but it’s worth remembering that many highlights of Peaches’ brilliant live shows have found her wielding a Flying V.

Of course, by the time the album has climaxed with a closing quartet of “Get It”, “Give ‘Er”, “Do Ya” and “Stick It”, a big part of you is wondering if Peaches maybe needs to find some new hobbies. But there’s method to her (sex-)madness: like that of Har Mar Superstar, Peaches’ shtick is all about the democratisation of desire, about sex not being the sole preserve of the rich and beautiful; and in an era of rampant celebrity obsession, this probably needs saying.

What’s certain is that “Impeach my Bush” is another riotously entertaining record from a woman who – like The Ramones and The Cramps before her – is riding a one-trick pony toward legend status.
(by Niall O’Keeffe)