Category: Uncategorized

In Search Of: The Next DJ Shadow. Funny because it’s true! Nails several of the candidates really well musically, too. RJD2 (“looks a little overly-British”) and Diplo (“a little too ‘ethnic'”) are the two most logical options.

Interviews with Tim Mooney and Mark Eitzel, drummer and singer/songwriter/guitarist (respectively) of American Music Club, the band whose 1991 song gives this site its name.
The Tim interview is nothing special, but the Mark interview sums up everything I love about every interview Mark has given in the last 20 years. It’s got it all, starting with the slavering fanboy attitude of the interviewer. (Mark is beloved by critics, less so by the record-buying public.)
The token strangeness that is Mark’s life: “I’ve had, like, the weirdest night of my whole life. This millionaire who owns Maxim magazine funded this poetry reading, and they had like eight different kinds of this really expensive French wine. All in a corporate environment. So strange. He’s the owner of Maxim, and he’s a poet. Go figure.”
The obligatory self-loathing: “Q: I’d just like to tell you that when you played ‘Home’ at Bumbershoot, I almost cried. A: Because you felt sorry for me?” And: “Q: Well, it was a great show. A: A lot of people got up and left.”
The silly anti-Americanism: “I think the problem is America. It’s over…Over as a force that transcends the world…America was a wonderful place. But this new government is different. It’s not America, it’s fascist.”
The “my music is crap” meme: “Q: I was looking at the lyrics for ‘I’m in Heaven Now.’ A: I’m so embarrassed by that song. Q: I really love the line, ‘It’s the theme park of my dreams.’ A: Oh, come on. ‘Michael Jackson’s on his knees.’ I’m so embarrassed I wrote that song. I don’t want Michael Jackson giving me head. Not with that mouth.”
The weird-for-such-an-uncommercial-artist obsession with money: “I have to change my life pretty soon, because I know this will never make me money anymore…Or maybe not. Who knows? Maybe I can write a song like that ‘I’m Too Sexy For My Shirt’ song, and keep it going.”
The rapid mood swing: “I just hate it. It’s wrong. And it’s taken me all this time to… hey, but you know what? You know what I’m doing right now? I’ve had all this fabulous French wine, and now I’m driving around in a Ford Mustang, and it’s the best car ever built! I’m in this fabulous fuckin’ Mustang with a V-8 engine that’s fuckin’ HUGE! And it’s so much fun.”
The alcoholism: “Hey… I’m sorry. I’m so drunk, I’ve had all this really fine wine.”
Hello, networks: A Mark Eitzel reality show would be the best television program of all time.

A crabwalk.com global exclusive: Sufjan Stevens’ cover of The Star-Spangled Banner, recorded in Toronto last November. Kick ass.

Crazy. Crazy.

Hello, crabwalk.com reader checking in from the law firm of Vial, Hamilton, Koch & Knox! Dawn, is that you? Drop me a line, whoever you are…

Lots of buzz yesterday about this story (and the accompanying video). Texas Gov. Rick Perry, after doing a TV interview, said “Adios, mofo” while the cameras continued to roll.
Amusing stuff. But more amusing was this conversation between some of my colleagues in the newsroom (and I am not making this up):
Editor: What does “mofo” mean, anyway?
Reporter #1: It’s a bad word for black people, I think.
Reporter #2: (overhearing the conversation, somewhat stunned) Actually, it means “motherfucker.”
Editor: Oh, in Spanish?

A decades-late “damn you!” to Lou Reed and the Velvet Underground, for embedding in their song “The Murder Mystery” a recurring sound that exactly mimics the ringtone of my cell phone. Damn you!

Mickey Kaus reviews my new car. I love my Mazda 3, but I nod in agreement at his thoughts on cornering — it’s got a wide turning radius that takes some getting used to.
I take pride in being a pretty good parker — it’s amazing the things one can form a self-image on; for me it’s parking skill and George Foreman Grill jujitsu — but when I got the Mazda I became the world’s worst parker for a few weeks. Turning into narrow spots was an adventure there for a while.

When the Mountain Goats’ The Sunset Tree came out a couple months ago, I was a bit disappointed — seemed a little dull. But another listen on the road back from Louisiana Monday made me revise that review: It’s no Tallahassee, sure, but it’s still quite affecting.
Here head Goat John Darnielle does a haiku-only interview about the album, song by song. It’s a silly conceit, but kinda funny, particularly when John’s answers start getting a little uppity with the 5-7-5-spouting interviewer. When asked to explain the central image of “Magpie”: “Only a traitor / undresses his metaphors / As if they were whores.” When asked if one song describes a youthful “escape” from pain into music: “All interviewers / Seem to like this word ‘escape’ / For this song: me, less.”

Bill Block Sr. passed away yesterday at 89. Bill was a grand old newspaperman and, simply, a grand old man. His family owns The Toledo Blade, my former employer, so I got to know Bill a bit over the last decade. First met him in Toledo in 1996; last had dinner with him in Pittsburgh last summer. The P-G editorial calls him “an uncommonly good man,” and I think that’s right — he was pure of heart, an honest and graceful and kind fellow who, despite his riches, refused to put on airs. My condolences to the family.