More listening-logging: the Mekons' Fear and Whiskey a couple times, and now Beanie Sigel's The Truth.

Speaking of which, "Mac Man" (stuffed with old video game references in the lyrics, and a Pacman-eating-dots sound running through complementing the beat, with occasional dead-Pacman noises) is excellent. It put an enormous smile on my face, even.

In an effort to get a more accurate picture of what I listen to I'm going to start posting everything I listen to each day, for two or three weeks.

So far today, it's been: Smog a few times, then Tortoise on the way to campus, then PIL for a while on campus and then on my way home and on some errands, and then the Wu-Tang's W, and now Jay-Z Vol. 2.

(It's an 'effort' because I don't always post about what I listen to, and I tend to forget. I'm continuing it for a while so that I catch everything - I tend to listen in streaks. For example, I might not listen to much jazz for a while, then listen to mostly jazz for two weeks straight.)

The man has a point.

Having heard Soul Power again today, I must reiterate that just the sound of Flavor Flav's voice, hearing it "again" (it sounds strange to say that, given that it can't have been that long since I first heard Public Enemy for the first time; but despite being strange the sense of nostalgia is there), feels so great and right that his senility is hardly an issue. It's not that he rhymes only "two" and "Wu", but how he sounds when he does it.

The drums have a very other-room sound to them, despite being quite clear.

After checking out some of the CDs I used to make the second side of his tape, Murph has become addicted to Mystikal's "Pussy Crook," wherein our hero tells of his exploits with the fairer sex, his notoriety with law enforcement officials thanks to those exploits, and the enormous sexual organ he thankfully has to satisfy all his ill-gotten girls. There are also the requisite thematic references to large trucks.

Andy explained what he meant by comparing Arab Strap to Steely Dan. Of course, I was hoping for surprising sonic points of comparison, but oh well. At least he's forthcoming.

Oh, and just because I've seen more than a couple people looking lately, here is where I refer to "Lamb" in entries made before I moved to ellipsis - thus, entries which wouldn't be returned by the search engine.

January 2000, June 2000, July 2000, August 2000, October 2000, November 2000, December 2000, February 2001, June 2001.

One or two "Lamb"s are not referring to the group Lamb. But that just makes it for fun for you. Use your browser's page search command within the above pages.

Apparently I had much less to say about Lamb last year than the year before.

Another day, another mix.

Big Boi & Dre Present... Outkast, Fela Kuti - Shakara / London Scene, Goldfrapp - Felt Mountain, Lamb - Fear of Fours, Avalanches - Since I Left You (which I just mis-called Since You Left Me er um)

I really have nothing to say about this one. It works well. I want to hear Outkast come up more than the others, but I've been listening to it all day anyway. The Avalanches is the most interesting to hear mixed in with others, because it breaks up the flow of the record so much (into often non-song tracks). I don't really find this to be a bad thing, though it is new and thus to be feared and distrusted.

The Fela tends to disrupt the flow more because of the long songs, but they still are well-suited to be in this mix.

I saw Lipstick Traces today.

It was really, really great, and I say that with little theater experience, ha. As the story linked to says, they successfully distilled Marcus's book into 70 minutes. More than successfully, I think, because the play didn't get mired down in all of the continental philosophy that Marcus had trouble dealing with, or the attempts to make his argument (?) about the connections between his subjects plausible. It avoids that problem by being something like an outline version of Marcus' argument, and an outline that smacks you in the face with everything all at once; the possibly questionable parts of the argument, like the connections, are sort of glossed over with comedy, or the dramatic device of shit-there's-a-lot-of-confusion-here-let's-keep-going, or by just sort of montaging the connections into being and not worrying about the problems.

It also makes it all more believable, even beyond the greater clarity. The appeal of dada, through the Cabaret Voltaire recreation; the sense to situationism; punk mattering. I think the more esoteric parts were made more believable in part because they were presented comically, and somehow, laughing at them is a sign of having understood something of them. Other than that, things were just a million times more potent than in the book. Especially in the "twentieth century in four and a half minutes" section. I just about wanted to cry, or scream, or both, by the end of it.

And after, I finally went out to buy a Sex Pistols record. They didn't have any. Fuck.

The performance I saw was part of a mid-American tour hitting Ohio, Cedar Rapids, IA (!?!), and Houston. I highly recommend you see it if you can. The first, off-Broadway run has already passed, but hopefully this thing will stick around for a while.