Although the shittiness/awesomeness can be debated, here is our list of bands so far.  If you have any we left out, leave them in the comments section, we can add them in later.

Films:

80s Movies:

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Directed by: Garvin Ha

Why does everything sound better when played on a ukulele and sung so cutely?

Andrew W.K.’s “Get Ready to Die”

Anna’s Facebook.

In the argument against file sharing, there is an often forgotten situation: there are albums that are only released online.  If it weren’t for peer-to-peer file sharing most of these albums would never have seen the light of day.  This new reoccurring segment “Rarities in the Digital Age” follows such albums with links to the albums in question.

This week’s addition is one of the demo tapes of Green Day.  Long before they bashed Bush and wished you the time or your life, they were some band banging out songs in a garage and recording them on a 4-track.  Their demo tape is a direct reflection of this, a band piecing together what is now known as the Dookie album, on a 4-track and distributing this tape to the labels looking for a deal.  Most of the song are fairly familiar, “Longview,” “Basket Case,” and “When I Come Around,” all appear with similar arrangements but a few changed lyrics from their Dookie album versions.  An early version of “Haushinka,” which appeared later on the Nimrod album, and “JAR,” a b-side from the soundtrack to the film “Angus,” appear on the tape alongside an instrumental jam and a laid-back country jam “Walking the Dog.”  These demo versions of the songs are interesting for those following the progression of a songwriter, but also to those who have seen the band play these live in an arena full of thousands of people.  Listening to the energy of the band performing the same songsin a garage in front of no one but themselves  is a completely new experience.


Jealous Admiration is the stalker-esque following of a band of which I used to be a member.  As mentioned in a previous post, I used to be in a band called The Last of Us (a reference to “Robin Hood: Men in Tights”) which also featured Chris Short, now the drummer for Lost Ocean.  A later incarnation of the band (which did not include me) included Bret Black and Sky Johnson, whom I have been good friends with since grade school.  Now those crazy kids are blowing up the Christian music scene, are all over youtube and are signed to Credential Records (a subsidiary of EMI).  They even have a service that lets their fans leave them messages on their MySpace page.  If one were so inclined, they could dial 661-349-7206 and leave the guys a nice message, or harass them like the creepy stalker you know you are.  Despite the fact that I am not really a fan of their music (or their hair), I am still considerably jealous of their success.  I would, without a doubt enjoy being the object of obsession for repressed Christian libidos, but alas I will probably return to writing worship songs for atheists.

A year ago today I wrote an email to myself to be delivered a year later.  This service of informing yourself about your past faults and asperations is provided by FutureMe.org, a site that allows your to delay the sending of an email for an extended period of time.  A book has been compiled of the best of the best of the futureme emails, of which I am most definetly excluded.

Below is the email I received today, but first some advice for those of you who will embark on this epic journey of trying to forget what you wrote before your email arrives:  Do not confuse your tenses.  Try not to thank yourself for something you didn’t do.  Don’t do what I did and write about porn.  Add names.  Don’t mention someone and leave off their name as I have done.  I can’t remember who I was fantasising about.

Anyway, enjoy the email:

Dear FutureMe,

Thank you for that porn you downloaded and consequently forgot about in a folder on your computer.  Whatever computer that my be in the future.  You might have some fucking flying computer with hyper-drive configuration nonsense that is powered by tomato soup, self-deprecation and the refracted light from Venus (thank you, Al Gore).  Hopefully by now you have gone into the menopause for men (manopause?), I think it is actually referred in the medical field as andropause; the severe drop in testosterone in old age.  Then you can be crotchety old asshole and get away with it.  Or at the very least have an excuse.  You possibly also would be much less horny (which wouldn’t make use of all that porn you downloaded, but hey).

At the time of this writing, you are bored as fuck at work daydreaming about the binder you lost (read: placed on roof of car and drove away) and where you will be in the future when you read this.   Half of that is a lie.  You are actually thinking about some random sexual encounter, probably with some girl in you psychology class with whom you are in love (read: she actually talks to you), and whether you stomach is going to growl and how awkward that would be during said sexual encounter.
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neatbeatsscience

It is a common event amongst music nerds to name drop your friend’s band whilst engaged in a “band-dropping” contest.  This is one way music nerds can assert their indie street cred without having to know any bands besides their struggling musician friends.  Neat Beats are not one of those bands.  It is true, I do know the musician known on the internet as Neat Beats, but I refuse to name-drop someone I actually think is talented.  Instead, I will try and review and spread the work about Neat Beats in lieu of attempting to pilfer indie-cred off of him.

Neat Beat’s music is somewhat downtempo electronic music reminiscent of the laptop extraordinaire Four Tet, or the obscure sample hound Madlib, with a touch of RJD2.  What he lacks in song-title-writing-skills, he more than makes up for in production (some of your titles are weird, dude).  “Graffiti on a Monday Night,” opens the EP with some reverse-sampled goodness and resolves in a torrent of glitchy rhythms.  Along the way the forboding band break-up sample “You Fucking Die!” from the Pixie’s Surfer Rosa graces the track.  The quick drums and female vocals of “Safe in Sound” will sing you to sleep before you make it halfway through the album while the last track “Robot 30931 Feels Existential Despair” sounds and feels like a b-side from a Flaming Lips album.

But don’t take my word for it; Listen to the album below:

Neat Beats – “Science is my Girlfriend”


Also, check out:

Neat Beats on Myspace

Neat Beats on Terminus1525

This wonderful find was constructed from audio found  on the first file sharing sites where people would inadvertently share songs of themselves talking, singing, rapping, etc.  More of these audio files can be found at the Stark Effect’s site.

The Redskins were a skinhead band who mixed punk, soul and rockabilly which ends up sounding somewhere between The Clash and Dexy’s Midnight Runner. Not to be confused with racist or anti-semetic skinheads, The Redskins were non-racist skinheads sometimes known as SHARPs (Skinheads Against Racial Prejudice), who were even targeted by white power skinheads for their views.

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