you want to know what matt thought about the mix on friday? i thought so: bright red snowflake reviews friday playlist

jets to brazil are looking for a new drummer. big up to brooklyn.

more for me than for you; a reminder via thrown askew about why.

better late than never, huh? the problem with working nights is that i never get around to posting something until later, and then a lot of people miss the post. oh, well, at least this way there’s something new for monday, huh?

i haven’t decided yet how frequently i’m going to be able to do this, but there’s always some satisfaction in being able to share something with anyone. and thus is born the friday playlist. enjoy and, if you like it, go buy it. this ain’t no soup kitchen.

hell yeah: jonathan richman and phantom planet less than a block away from work.

my bivouac record is old. i don’t remember exactly where i got it, i think maybe i ordered it from parasol. it came in large lp cardboard, the edges were not frayed, the art was big, and tangible, i could hold it in my hands and feel the weight of it. the vinyl, however, was thin.

the insert was big, too. a full size page, 12″ of lyrics and artwork, and that candle that said “fast luck” on it, and whenever i’d look at it quickly, it would look like “last fuck,” instead. i got a kick out of that; it stayed in a frame above my bed for over a year.

i remember listening to chesterfield king for the first time, listening to the story unravel and then starting the record over to hear it again. i remember being ashamed at having been found out that i was only smoking chesterfield kings because of that song. i convinced myself that they tasted good. they tasted okay.

somewhere along the line the record got warped. i put it on the record player today, the one i got from nathan, who got it from his step-dad, lloyd. the record barely plays, the first four songs have a terrible bend in them, and the needle jumps off the black vinyl like hands off a hot stove. it’s a shame, too, the first few songs off that album are some of my favorites. near the end of the first side, there’s a scratch that makes the song skip into this never-ending loop of guitar, drums and bass. i’m amazed at how little care i took of this record.

i sat around waiting for it to get better, but it never did. i ended up hitting the cut button and sitting around in silence. i should have taken better care of that record.

when i first found it after it had warped, i stuck it in the oven for a while, put it in the sun under some glass, tried ironing it– none of it worked.

i think i’ll try it again. but this time, i’ll try harder. how do i try harder?

i found some live recordings, i haven’t gotten a chance to listen to them yet, but will soon. here’s the link, if you’re interested: jawbreaker live at the croc

an email received:

so, listening to the asahi disc i just heard:
“sometimes the conversation falls into some infinite regress” whats up? is it some cultural motive i was unaware about or did you get the line from this song? or?

an email reply:

infinite regress is actually a phrase coined by david hume and was used as an explanation for the existence of God. Hume believed that all existence could be infinitely regressed to a point where the only question and answer would be God– “Why is the sky blue?” — “Because the sun reflects off atoms and causes our eyes to see blue” — “Why do our eyes see blue?” — “Because the reflection on our retina signals to our brain the color blue.” — “Why does our brain signal blue?” — Because we were conditioned to recognize blue since we were young.” — “Why?” — etc. — eventually, the answer comes to because God made it so.

this argument, however, has been countered by Kant developing metaphysics and a priori ethics, which moves around the argument of how things *are*, but how things *should be* thus bypassing the whole infinite regress argument.

epilogue:

and that’s where the name infiniteregress.org came from. the explanation may be a bit elementary, but that’s as much as i know. ask me questions, i’ll make up answers.

crap, man. the dismemberment plan is calling it quits. boo!

have you gotten Punk Planet #53 yet? there’s an interview with jawbreaker, and it’s damn good. get it. now!

initially, before i left the house i was looking for jets to brazil’s orange rhyming ictionary, but could only find this. i didn’t regret it– for a while now i’ve been bored with elliott smith, and the growth of popularity has admittedly tainted my preference, though through a fully conscious means.

this record, on the other hand, is so piecemeal with each artist’s individual part, that it was without all the commercial gloss and uber-production on smith’s latest albums. you can hear quasi, and you can hear no. 2. and you can hear smith, unadorned, yet still completely separate from his 4-track to abbey road days. there’s something distinctly different about the record that makes it nice to listen to.

and, driving to work, i could see the planes above, lined up to land at lax, just like on the cover.