internal mind inferno

"Go On" - Jack Johnson

2008-08-28T09:56:00.000-07:00

Man you know what I grew tired of jack Johnson not because he’s no longer good, he is, maybe just not great, but then maybe he just lost his relevance to me you know my mind was an inferno back when I was really into him just started at chiat and didn’t know anyone and fresh from a long term relationship and he really helped occupy the empty confines of my head and then I’d listen to him on my ipod while I’d ride my bike down to santa monica pier turning my beach cruiser into a tandem bicycle with him pedaling behind and he’s sit alongside me on the seagull poop filled wooden benches at the end of the pier and stare with me into the nothingness that was the dark ocean, not the nothingness that was within me because I had him talking to me and singing to me through my ears and he lent me his loose change to give to the homeless littered boardwalk that found their home on the beach and laughed when I expressed to him that I too had the same desire to one day have beachfront property the same way the homeless folks did but not in that way more of a pottery barn way oh who am I kidding I want to design my own furniture. But then yeah, jack Johnson was very relevant to me, my teddy bear in the lightning storm my baseball bat when I saw the shadows of people walking projected onto my bedroom wall while I’m up at night thinking about my past relationship and my new job and my new phase in my life or whatever. But then you know, the human mind and soul reconditioned itself and I came back to the same asshole form the one that takes women and knocks them off their pedestals and in turn turns them into assholes like I’m some type of zombie asshole and then they bite their victims and then it spreads like a disease and boomerangs back to my dumb ass(hole) and gets me riding my bike again, pedaling furiously, through the bum filled wooden benches and the seagull poop littered boardwalk listening to him, increasing my playcount of jack Johnson. Then someone looks on my itunes and notices the playcount and maybe thinks I’m some type of simpleton surfer guy but geez if they only knew how scorching my mind was they’d hose me down but they don’t so instead they’re the ones that get extinguished, increasing my personal playcount was that dirty, yeah so what, im an asshole zombie and zombies are ugly but sometimes we think beautiful thoughts like…
How beautiful today’s song sounds, how the guitar strumming is probably jack johnson’s best yet and the little piano thing chiming in just adds to its allure, with its awesome production and his melodic song writing and his soothing voice propelling this song beyond the stratosphere, to the same realms where stars dwell. The same realm above the horizon of the saltwater onyx where he and I and the seagull poop and the homeless folks used to stare into.

http://www.box.net/shared/sf8fq5ygsm

"Yesterday" - Atmosphere

2008-08-28T09:35:00.000-07:00

oh yeah,
you hear that good time, dixieland piano in the background? already, within the first 2 seconds you know you're in for a little jolly time, big ol' swirly lollipop the kind you get at six flags type songs, the ones where you're at the carnival and you want to get cotton candy but they ran out of blue and only had pink and somehow before you believed in that whole lame notion that if you got the pink then you were queer but then realized that the only thing queer was that train of thought so then you finally came to terms with the world and all the minuscule shit and how to disregard it so that you can just carry on with your sexuality in a confident and comfortable way and just enjoy your mother fucking cotton candy even though it's pink and you know what else you learn to let go of? you learn to let go of that whole notion of typing out the word motherfucker like no more should i spell it out proper because if i do it might sound too white and cheeseball or should i type it out like muthafucka because that's how eazy e spells it on his diss against dre that real muthafucking song and then again you start to think like muthafucka (or motherfucker) is spelling is name all wrong i mean he only has 4 letters in his name and he still manages to fuck it all up why should he be any type of attila and the bee authority when it comes to spelling bees you know what i mean, b? but then you forget all about it because no matter how you spell motherfucker all you want to do is express that feeling in your gut or on your mind where clean dictionary white linen words don't suffice or quite accurately convey the urgency of your thoughts and then you sit there still thinking whether or not you should spell it the white way or the black way what would the asian way be don't make fun of me now because i'll hurt you (muthafocka) but really no matter how you spell it you realize it all means the same so then you commit to just fucking typing it out however it comes out and your eyes ignore the backspace key because it doesn’t matter but if you were to insert a space between the compound words you might make it a little more dramatic and people will be convinced that you’re edgy and your mind is a clusterfuck but you’re willing to take the risk to have people think you’re just passionate along with you being edgy and your mind is being fucked clusterly way but whatever because now you're listening to this song and you're learning to let go of all that minuscia because you're realizing that this song is about slug talking to his dad because he passed away and then you feel a little bad because slug's dad is dead and then you go back to his lucy ford ep and conjure up his old songs and rediscover that his dad killed himself and now you feel kind of even more so bad.
but then the hammering of the piano keys sounds pretty jolly and lollipop and you can't help but feel like you're back in dixieland parasols and all and then the only thing dixie about your surroundings is the disposable plastic cup with remnants of whiskey and soda from more celebratory times you know the same cup that will end up choking some kind of sea creature in the ocean when you don't properly dispose of it and there's nothing dixie time about that so you say to yourself, next time I’m buying solo, motherfucker if you’re white muthafucka if you’re black I’m not sure how the Hispanic population addresses it because instead of calling you what you are they tell you what to do with the whole chinga tu madre thing and us asians we’re so porcelain and gentle and demure and docile but when you get that yellow rage boiling like the chicken flavored powder in a bowl of top ramen we scream from the top of our lungs
next time solo, muthafocka!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-- sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/q0ncxzcfcx

"Breaker-Breaker 1-2" - Alamo Race Track

2008-08-25T00:35:00.000-07:00

what up everyone,

hope ya'll had a good weekend. pretty good one, overall -- us basketball won the gold, supercrew got voted as america's best dance crew, and this one cat i know very little of is getting me excited about the upcoming election. you know, i was just watching mtv to see who won the best dance crew thing and i noticed that the network is trying more and more to showcase emerging artists.

i guess there's this group called the jonas brothers. who are they? they look lame to me and there was this girl named jonas that i had a peculiar experience with a long time ago. also, there's this new show with this white and black guy; one looks like a younger pharrel, the other like a younger chris cornell -- what the hell is that? i heard one of their songs and thought it was wack. then, there's this new kid rock song -- for real? and the one that takes the cake is this other girl -- tyler perry or something like that. she was wailing on some acoustic guitar (why is blue always the backdrop for an acoustic show) and singing about some error in judgement by sleeping with someone or something. fucking aye, man. i can't believe that the mainstream media, especially the hardcore influential and authoritative MTV network are taking the younger generation for a ride. you can't seriously believe this is good music, good melodies, good ART, right?

man, that really peeves me. what sucks is that we grow up thinking of this and that -- what's good for us, what's bad for us. eventually you grow up and it's like "hey, wait a minute" and you have to make that leap of faith to trust your own feelings and do what you do. the most major one isn't about politics, values or religion. it's about music. your music choice. people generally spend more time engaged with a song, jingle or polyphonic ringtone than they do with anything else. and still they feed what's given to them. you know what you should do when you want brie and they only have cheddar? you don't settle for cheddar, you go find yourself a place that sells brie. you know what lazy, indifferent people do? they resort to mainstream media, radio stations, or revert back to classic rock. please, it's never been easier and please, don't tell me nothing good has come out since then because you know iron and wine, right? just kidding. what i'm saying is stay relevant and listen to the voice of your generation.

sorry, just a little rant because a little payola goes a long way in the music industry and there are amazing artists out there that will never get their shine. pisses me off. and you know, eventually i'm going to explode and just write this long diarrhea-diatribe about HOW MUCH I HATE KARAOKE and MUSIC THEY PLAY IN DIVE BARS and HOW LAME I THINK IT IS THAT PEOPLE GET DRUNK AND THINK THEY ROCK OUT BECAUSE THEY KNOW THE LYRICS TO PARADISE CITY or FOREIGNER and don't even have the balls to BREAK SOME BOTTLES or smoke a joint or RUB SOME THIGHS in the back of a club. sorry, i'm dismounting now. i'm sorry -- it's how i feel, i know i'm taking the wrong approach and it's pricky of me and it's unattractive. it's just, like man, i was just watching mtv and stuff, and like man, i wanted some brie. but all i got was cheese.

-- sonnyred

oh yeah, band, from amsterdam, and yeah they rock, and like the dutch, are boring, so yeah then, they're really like, huge massive boulder

http://www.box.net/shared/jgqjsaf0jc

"Che Che Cole" - Antibalas Afrobeat Orchestra

2008-08-24T23:20:00.000-07:00

what up everyone,

hope everyone had a good weekend. man, i heard today's song for the first time on saturday morning i couldn't stop salivating; so i'm stoked to bring it forth to ya'll. for real, ain't afraid to admit that i'm quite ignant when it comes to world music; for real though, there's so much "english" language stuff that's out there and undiscovered that i don't have time, focus or the infrastructure (access to fired plantains, gold chains, and my closest friend with a lot of chest hair was really a japanese guy and he moved back to his home country of brazil).

this song is so hype and it just has this whole "let's have a good time" vibe to it. either way, not to take up much more of your time; throw this song on, spray your axe deodorant and go rock some girl's hips. if you're a girl, it'll make it that much hotter.

caliente!

-- sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/tj99am2jcn

CHE CHE COLE

Vamos todos a bailar
al estilo africano
si no lo sabes bailar
yo te enseñaré mi hermano.

A ti te gusta la bomba
y te gusta el baquiné
para que goces ahora,
africano es el bembé.

CORO:

Che che colé, (que bueno e’………)
Che che cofriza, (muerto e’ la risa……)
Coqui saranga (ay viene la malanga……)
Caca chilanga, (viene de catanga……)
Ayeiyeee, (a ver e’ tu lo ve………)

Che che colé, (que bueno e’……)
Che che cofriza, (muerto e’ la risa……)
Coqui saranga, (Coqui saranga……)
Caca chilanga, (Caca chilanga……)
Ayeiyeee, (a ver e’ tu lo ve……)

Oye tú sentado allá
pareces venezolano
ven aquí vamo’ a bailar
que todos somos hermanos.

Lo bailan en Venezuela,
lo bailan en Panamá.
Este ritmo es africano
y donde quiera vá acabar.

CORO:

Che che colé, (que bueno e’………)
Che che cofriza, (muerto e’ la risa……)
Coqui saranga (ay viene la malanga……)
Caca chilanga, (viene de catanga……)
Ayeyeee, (a ver e’ tu lo ve………)

Che che colé, (te re cumbe’……)
Che che cofriza, (muerto e’ la risa……)
Coqui saranga, (no me age rrelajanda……)
Caca chilanga, (baile la malanga……)
Ayeyeee, (aver que e pachanga no e……)

Ya yo sé que te gustó,
quieres bailarlo otra vez,
bailalo en la punta del pie
y veras que bueno es.

Ya yo sé que te gustó,
quieres bailarlo otra vez
pues ponte bien los zapatos
que los tienes al revés.

CORO:

Che che colé, (que bueno e’………)
Che che cofriza, (muerto e’ la risa……)
Coqui saranga (ay viene la malanga……)
Caca chilanga, (viene de catanga……)
Ayeyeee, (a ver e’ tu lo ve………)

Che che colé, (que bueno e’……)
Che che cofriza, (muerto e’ la risa……)
Coqui saranga, (Coqui saranga……)
Caca chilanga, (Caca chilanga……)
Ayeyeee, (a ver e’ tu lo ve……)

"Dirty Version" - Voxtrot

2008-08-12T16:39:00.000-07:00

hello all,

since there are a bunch of new people on this list, and i'm taking a break in between writing pure pieces of genius (for blake to print out and wipe her dirty butt with), and this song came on, and rarely fails to send chills down my spine, and many people will probably never hear this song if it weren't for me, and it's a great song (that will hopefully send a thunderbolt down your spine unless you have scoliosis then it might take longer), and i found so many gems of lyrics between stanzas, in bars, and makes me wish i was at a bar, to drown my sorrows, actually to take a step back, i have nothing to be sorrowful about, but hearing this song made me wish i had something to be sorrowful about, so that i could go to a bar and drown them, or maybe even jump off the pier and drown myself, and this song is one of those songs where no matter what you're doing at your computer -- watching a breakdance video on youtube, or reading the latest team usa basketball news headlines or how the 40 year old virgin guy stabbed his girlfriend or transferring money from your savings to your checkings to hold you off till friday or whatever when you hear this song it'll just make you pause and direct your eyes to the empty space between you and what's directly away from you, because this song is incredible and i think they did it to me on purpose because i swear, i haven't blinked, nor slept, for years because now i'm hearing this song and i have no shame that the frigid air conditioning in this panera bread co. is tic-taccing my nipples, because the only thing that matters to me at this moment is the hollowness of this song and the fact that it makes me feel bad, but bad in a good way that makes me feel great, but then leaves me longing for something so ugly that it leaves me -- with this beautiful sorrow that gets me stirring my emotions so that when i hear this song the heart pumping is not something i hear from her but something i feel, in me.

-- sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/da3ht7j1mc

"Vio Spilum Endalust" - Sigur Ros

2008-07-31T10:32:00.000-07:00

what up everyone,

as promised, here's another sigur ros song i'm sending out. not sure what this means but the melody and pulsating "sounds of the congo" drum alludes me to think that this is a powerful song. maybe i'd play this to illustrated a salmon jumping up a waterfall, a 4 year old boy going straight down a sidewalk with the training wheels for the first time, an 86 year old woman succesfully opening a jar of peanut butter without the help of a kitchen towel, a freshly hatched sea turtle making it past the break under a moonlit beach, or maybe an overly dramatic taco bell commercial where the guy is standing on top of the mountain screaming, "i'm full."

the beauty of things that people don't understand is that they can take away from it what they will. the tragedy of it is that despite doing so, they may never understand.

-- sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/q4e2xoco4g

"Gobbledigook" - Sigur Ros

2008-07-29T17:44:00.000-07:00

hello all,

please join me in welcoming stephanie shortsleeve to our humble music group. just to give everyone a little background on how this list came to be. it all started off in an apple focus group (at the agency i was working at). we were talking about what would become the ipod mini and it was only me and this girl in the group. the moderator asked us if we used itunes, i said NO. i go to amoeba (in independent music store in hollywood/nor cal). why? the tangibility aspect of having something in your hands, fingernail razor blades to slice open the plastic wrap, falling in love with the album and mulling over the booklet, trading in the album for credit, a portion of the proceeds benefiting the amazon forest and (most importantly) supporting the local economy.

the girl next to me said her main reluctance was because they didn't have the music she listened to on itunes. WHA WHA WHAT? needless to say that sparked an entire sidebar conversation and continued onto me making her some CDs of the genres we both enjoyed. yes, she was very attractive; otherwise i probably would've just given her a "google that shit, bitch" list of artists i liked. so then, word of my compilations got around and then like 3 people also asked for music...they didn't know much but they knew they liked it...sometimes they didn't and asked me why i liked it...and that's how this whole thing started. and for the past 2 or 3 years people have come and gone. i don't even know half of the people on this list but when they meet me they know me up the wazoo; which is why i ask for introductions...to level the playing field:

them: hey, i know you. you're the loser that always gets rejected by women and lives in this fairytale land where dreams are seamless and you shed jack daniel teardrops.
me: you ain't got nothing on me. i know your favorite color is periwinkle. now what?

hence, here's stephanie's intro:

My friend ____ sent along your email, he and I share a love for live music and new bands. As for a little intro about me, I’m known in most circles as ‘Shortsleeve’ or ‘Shorty’ due to my unusual last name…my favorite band is the Kings of Leon, I think because it gets me back to my southern roots….my favorite food is goldfish crackers, and I’ve never met anyone who loves parades as much as I do, something about smiling and waving to perfect strangers who happily return the favor.

if it weren't for kings of leon being your favorite band, i'd say you were magna cum lade. kiddingly serious. well, today's band i stumbled upon 7 years too late. don't blame me, they're from iceland and i don't have any icelandic friends and all i know is that despite the notion that people say iceland is green and greenland is snowy, iceland is still very snowy. there's no way a country could be that stupid, right? i don't know though...today's song is called gobbledigook, after all.

hey, asians...calm your nerves, i know the title is a little derogatory and we should all impose a boycott of something icelandic and all. how about ice? i'm talking cubed, crushed, shaved. merely typing the word shaved makes me want to do naked pilates in front of the freezer. screw the boycott, you guys are on your own.

but wait, i don't like the way they laugh at us asians in the first few seconds of the song. who do they think we are? after all, we will email bomb them bitches. we are, where, somewhere between indians and ukrainians in terms of information technology prowess. let's flex our skills and caps lock our keyboards and test their spam guards. how dare they use us in the same title with sounds that turkeys make.

i don't care. i'm sending this band out anyway. and be prepared, i've quickly fallen in love with them. i'm sending out at least 3 more songs from them, so be prepared for the indecipherable lyrics and beautiful melodies. this band sends chills down my spine. the sound is so beautiful and it makes me want to hire a prostitute to counterbalance all the gay feelings pulsating through me right now. craigslist "erotic services," here i come! pun definitely intended.

hope this song makes all you guys want to solicit the services of a lady of the night, as well.

-- sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/vh6t2izwos

"Lick Shot" - Immortal Technique, Crooked I, Chino XL

2008-07-28T15:23:00.000-07:00

what up ya'll,

hope you all had a good weekend. quite nice, yeah?

"revolution"...you won't hear cats in the ghetto talk about it. you won't see their tvs tuned onto it (not while "g's to gents" is airing). but you know these things do affect people, and how can they ever know about it? sometimes, when you're in a position of authority and stuff, you might have an obligation to leverage your position to get some crucial messages across. i like immortal technique for doing this shit. it's all a matter of opinion, but you know, the truth is that a lot of disenfranchised youth look to athletes and rappers as an influential figure and whether or not you want to be a role model, the truth is that you are. and so it's up to you to live for yourself or to sacrifice it for the greater good.

"you try keeping it real, yet you should try keeping it right" - de la soul (stakes is high)

and you know, that's why i find it hard to listen to music that glamorizes shit and makes people feel like shit if they don't cop this or cop that. and the thing i hate the most is when conscious mcs talk about being conscious, but really don't speak out on anything. and the thing that i hate right after that is how people talk about revolution, or how mcs talk about people that only talk about revolution, or even worse...music critics/writers that dog on mcs that talk about revolution and revolutionary anything. no offense to me; trust me, i'm not. what i like about IT is that he actually does talk about specific topics and issues and he's thuggity. i mean, i'm all for that ghetto intellectual shit, that's the shit.

that's what today's song is to me. crooked i is some wack rapper, but you know i get him props for his verse. and of course, there's chino xl...the king of metaphors. now for real, i'd rather box lil wayne and his dad before i ever fuck with chino xl. either way, west coast gangsta shit always lacked this stuff....('cept for 2pac and amerikkka's most wanted).

either way, enjoy.

-- sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/ynr1rf8tcc

"Hallucinations" - The Raveonettes

2008-07-28T15:09:00.000-07:00

what up everyone,

hope you all had a good weekend. man, do i feel bad for ever writing off the raveonettes before truly giving them a chance. but really, don't blame me for thinking they were like some kind of gothic super hero vigilante group, or like, some type of cheerleading squad for a professional football organization.

Not sure what today's song is about and not sure I want to think too hard about it, either. From the sound of it, it seems like it's about a this miserable dude in a miserable relationship and he's about to skidaddle on her, come sunrise. I don't even think it's necessarily about a guy that's about to leave his lover for someone new.

I can totally relate; let me explain. You know sometimes, you're stuck in this relationship and you want out but you can't really bring yourself to do it; I mean...the security, the constants, the familiarty...but you know, when you get into those stupid arguments (over dumb shit), you know there's actually something a lot more to it. So you go to sleep, restless and burnt, and you imagine to yourself that you've met someone new and that you're leaving them forever...hence the hallucination part. Certainly, you'll wake up to the same ol' shit, but while electrified sheets are keeping you from spooning her, and while you're swearing you're going to wait till she falls asleep and you're just going to take off like a thief in the night, and while your eyes are closed, you're fabricating the antithesis, of her. you're dreaming out the things you'd never have the balls to manifest.

enjoy (cowards),
-- sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/pawatbvok4

HALLUCINATIONS
Observe my obsession with someone new
Don't feel like someone new
The connection is real with someone new

In this tomb I call love
I get so lonesome with you
Or without you sweetheart
The hellhound's here

Hallucinate my love
Nothing's real in the morn
When I rise I'll leave you to die
You to die, you to die

"Goodby to the Mother and the Cove" - Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

2008-07-21T11:35:00.000-07:00

Whewww....I'm all winded just typing that subject line. Good lord.

Anywho, hope everyone had a good weekend. When did "who" sneak into the conversation as an acceptable replacement for anyway? And when are when, what, why and where going to share a similar fate? Will they ever?

As I listen to Clap Your Hands, the only thing that comes to mind is how I'm sitting here, typing on a granite kitchen countertop while all this awesome music is being created all over NYC right now; which is where CYHSY started. That's where I want to be. In C+C Music Factory.

Anywhy, today's song is about a guy being in love with his friend. Ahhh, tell me that's never happened to any of you before and I'll just be like, "whatever. anywhen!"

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/84scf3v48g

"The Healer/Hip Hop" - Erykah Badu

2008-07-09T00:45:00.000-07:00

what up ya'll?

fuck, what a gem i stumbled upon just by putting this on random. man, i gotta admit, erykah badu isn't an mc, but fuck neither is mary j blige. how the fuck did she get crowned the queen of hip hop? that's bullshit and i'll argue with anyone over that shit.

if there is anyone that is deserving of it, i'd say lauryn hill...she's mad soulful, has a beautiful voice, has the class and beauty of a queen and she is one of the best mc's of all time (boy or girl). don't deny me; i'll resend vocab and ya'll can hear how she rips that shit. you hear her voice and you feel this stuff inside of you that'll make you wish you were black; if anything, if you ever wanted to be black..listening to lauryn hill would take you one step closer to it. ask all them crazy white girls on this list....they'll vouch. it's almost to the point where if they ever got caught saying a racist joke, their only resort may be like "i totally listened to "the miseducation..." like 3 times a week for 2 years." or like, "see how edgy and cool i am? i went to roscoes." but if i did see someone listening to lauryn, i'd be at least like, "aight, you still racist but at least......."

if anything, erykah badu should reign supreme over mary j. she's down for it....i mean, she fucked and fucked over some important figures....andre and common...and then the supreme wonderboy jay electronica. i don't know man...she does shit and makes people get all eclectic and stuff. hearing this song really fucking drives me crazy. fuck, she has so much soul.

she's one of those apples in the tree where no matter how sweet the one in your hand is, you want to reach higher and higher and just get that one fucking hard-to-reach apple. you know you gotta drop the one in your hand to jump higher....you'll never get it; and you'll leave hungrier than ever. but as the hours pass, and after you've jumped a million times, and after you know you'll never get that apple, you'll wish you never let go of that one apple you had...

but at least you've increased your hops game.

-- sonnyred

i hate being cocky, but it's in my nature sometimes, and come on, that was a funny one. i'm a little drunk and i ate dinner at the new father's office (in culver city) so don't fuck with me.....you can't bring me down (yes scott, i just quoted suicidal tendencies).

if you pay attention....you'll notice the lyrics pay tribute to j dilla. guys, you may or may not be as into hip hop as me, and most of you guys may have never heard of j dilla if it weren't for this music list...but this cat is mad important. pay attention. i will go on and say that he is greater than 2pac, greater than biggie, jammaster jay, scott larock (boogie down productions), big l or even eazy e. i'm not saying this because he is the greatest producer or mc or founded a whole new genre of music....i'm not saying that at all. it's the hip hop artists, themselves, that are...he's immortalized through other people..his legacy is left through other people. eazy e is a pioneer, biggie is arguably the "best mc," 2pac shit..people still wear shirts with him on it and they taught a class at ucla on his poetry. but what makes j dilla so great is that he's behind the scenes. he's the ghost that you don't know is there.

he's the $20 bill in your jeans pocket that you never knew you had.

fuck, you know how passionate i am about this culture...how the fuck can you ever, EVER expect me to dance to soulja boy at a club? am i a music snob? am i too cool for school? ever think it's just because i care too much? for fuck's sake.

i swear, if i had a girlfriend i'd make hard, freak accident-jaws of life love to her right now. now accepting applications. be sexy. but if you can't, then be gentle.

http://www.box.net/shared/5jt8049sg4

THE HEALER

Humdi Lila Allah Jehova
Yahweh Dios Ma'ad Jah
Rastafara fyah dance, sex, music, hip-hop

It's bigger than religion
hip-hop
it's bigger than my nigga
hip-hop
it's bigger than the government
(humdi luli lali lulo)
This one is fa' Dilla, hip-hop...

(humdi luli la, humdi luli la lilulo, humdi lulila humdi lulilaaa...)

we ain't..
dead said the children don't believe it
We just made ourselves invisible..
underwater, stove-top,
blue flame scientist come out with your scales up..
get baptized in the ocean of the hungry
(Humdi luli lalilulo, Humdi lulilalilu)

My niggas turn in to gods,
walls come tumblin...(aaahhh)

Chorus
Humdi lila Allah jehova
yahweh dios ma'ad jah
Rastafara fyah dance,
sex, music, hip-hop
It's bigger than religion
hip-hop
it's bigger than my niggas
hip-hop
it's bigger than the government
(humdi luli lali lulo)
This one is the healer, hip-hop...

(humdi luli la, humdi lulilalilulo, humdi lulila, humdi lulilaaaa)

Told you
we aint dead yet
we been livin' through your internet
you don't have to believe everything you think
we've been programmed
wake up, we miss you.
they call you indigo, we call you Africa..
go get baptized in the ocean
of the people SAY
(Humdi luli lalulilo)
say reboot, refresh, restart..
fresh page,
new day,
o.g.'s,
new key...

(humdi lulila, humdi lulila lilulo, humdi luli la, humdilulila)

"The Killing Moon" - Echo and the Bunnymen

2008-07-07T10:18:00.000-07:00

hello all,

hope you all had a lovely 4th of july weekend. couldn't have asked for much more....nice waves, spent it with many of you and had some interesting encounters with ugly women..or ugly encounters with interesting women...either way, beautiful thoughts abound.

so yeah, if you send me a song to consider, don't send me a damn myspace link, send me a track. upload that shit for me, son! whatever. today's song is a little creepy crawly classic from one of the awesomnest soundtracks of all time, donnie darko. and the scene for this song is equally amazing.

but uhh, i'm wondering why "n" has to come along when i type in awesomnest. like, what fucking high standards that letter has? even awesome isn't good enough for it. i'm so damm pissed off at that fumking letter right mow.

i aim't gomma talk shit amymore. emjoy.

sommyred

http://www.box.net/shared/5tumcgjggo

"Face Like Summer" - Gorky's Zygotic Mynci

2008-07-01T13:15:00.001-07:00

hello all,

what a bummer; this song has been around since 2000 and i just heard it/the band for the first time (10 minutes ago) and now they're gone. i tried looking them up and it appears they've broken up! what a shame....man, they sound so familiar, like "the shout out louds" or something. here i go, making these analytical assumptions that are based on nothing more than atmosphere.

what is it about this song that i like? i like the somber melody, the simplicity and of course the harmonizing with the girl. i just love that (reminds me of "a plain morning" by dashboard confessional) weaving....making gingham out of stripes. and at first the song sounds rather cheesy, but there is this undeniable conviction in their voices.

give it its due process by throwing on some headphones when you listen to this. stop what you're doing (it's less than 3:00 long). but, if you really want to enjoy the song as much as possible, drive up to sunset blvd and pch (sunset point break for all your surfers, gladstones for all you shitty, fried seafood lovers) around 8:00 tonight, bring a bottle of pinot noir, go sit on the rocks and relisten to this song -- on repeat as you swig, think and drink your way to its bottom. bring a piece of paper and a pen, and write just one word on it, seal it up, and throw it into the ocean. one word, any word.

...and i guarantee it won't be anywhere close to "diarrhea."

either way, enjoy.
-- sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/pj2fe3wg0k

"Kids" - MGMT

2008-06-29T21:24:00.000-07:00

hello all,

wow, not sure what to say. i heard one of their songs briefly before i went on my trip almost 5 months ago, but i kind of wrote them off because they looked so young and just sounded like another drug-addled band.

forward maybe 2 months later and i'm in sofia, bulgaria, couchsurfing with a married couple that were all about MGMT. paid more attention, saw the video and was like, "cool and weird, but gimmicky and the song is too long." i come back and get reminded by katie about how good they are, she hooks me up with their album and i'm a fried egg on an arizona sidewalk.

still very drugalicious, but damn, this band...they pushed it to the next level. you know what this means, right? electro-indie is the new phase of "cool music." (not going to stop me from wanting to punch hipsters).

today's song is my favorite one out of their album -- just real melodic and catchy. and usually, when a song bursts into a solo i get bored and want to skip it, but it's different with this song. i swear, they can sing that chorus 10 more times and i'll still be happy.

either way, hopefully this will get your blood pumping as you start your work week. enjoy it like i know you could. oh yeah, sugar pie honey bunch.

-- sonnyred

oh yeah, that couple serve as a prime example of a passion for good music. i mean, this couple, from buttfuck bulgaria knew what was up. and us, we are in one of the biggest music/cultural meccas of the world. don't take it for granted. go out there, seek and destroy, and build. take kroq off your radio dial, damnit. how many more times can you hear an 80s flashback block party where they think green day is the greatest thing to rock music and chris martin is pablo neruda (or sam beam)? i mean, granted i want to be cool like those full sized pickup trucks with 6 inch suspension lifts, famous stars and straps stickers on the back window and wearing "tapout" shirts, too. i promise, independent music is a dark, scary tunnel. where do you start? where do you go? how do you get out? point is, you go in, and you don't get out. but stay in long enough, your aperture will open, and you'll see amazing things.

http://www.box.net/shared/9mbsh2cg0s

"Blind Man" - Cut Chemist > MED

2008-06-25T23:38:00.000-07:00

what up everyone,

hope ya'll like this rapid, spit-fire, blow the fuck up, NRA, charlton heston being carried on your shoulders, dust off the vhs and throw in menace II society, get a basketball and put a spin on it when you bounce pass it to someone, go down to the local carniceria and eat some of that chicharonnes while you're waiting for them to weigh the asada, throw on a diaper get a sixpack and watch a triple header, too damn hot for a shirt so walk around in your wife beater, get some corn and spread butter squeeze some lime sprinkle some chili flavored lucas powder squirt some tapatio and top it off with some mayonnaise, mega hold nah fuck that dep super mega hold gel and spike your hair up and shake someone's hand before washing it, slam that lobbed up tennis ball even though you're probably going to slam it over the fence and have it get stuck in some bushes, eat some 911 hooters hot wings and wipe your hands with a wetnap and then get something stuck in your contact lens, telling your best friend you're secretly in love with her, talk in the tone of a retarded person even though you know it ain't cool and that ain't right, and karma's a bitch but you're much worse so karma better watch the fuck out -- type song.

-- sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/npzple6684

"Skeleton Key" - Margot and the Nuclear So & So's

2008-06-25T23:15:00.000-07:00

hello all,

sending this song out ...i think i sent it before, but you know, new people on the list, and bad memory permits me to resend. on top of that __ski-badoski likes this song so, here you go (thanks for letting me drop in on you at sunset, it stoked me all day long, you badoski, you)....andrew come here, punk!

well, at first i fell in love with the melody of this song. sounds innocent enough, right? well, then i heard more and more and just love the melody, it's really not that elementary. it's a rather complex and intricately honest story...i'm thinking it's about a guy that cheats on a girl or a guy that was involved with a girl that was cheating on her man and leading him on.

this song definitely found its relevance in me and some of the dumb shit i've done before and/or allowed to happen to me. i'm telling you, sometimes, i think i value music so much because it lets me know i'm not lance armstrong in my shortcomings. either way, many sorrows would've floated if this song was to have been around when i was, say 15-19 years old? all the wiser, all the reminders, wrapped up in a nice whole wheat tortilla for your listening pleasure.

enjoy
-- sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/aewh0soow0

SKELETON KEY
I did a sick, sick thing to my love
My lack of loyalty, it swallowed her up
And she cooked me food
She squirmed and turned
Like a skeleton key
She left her man and attended to me

And don't call me that
Don't claim you love me
Cause you know that ain't true
My dire affliction I'll attribute to you

And you're finally free
To twist and turn
Like a skeleton key

You've gotta let me know
You've gotta let me know

I did a horrible thing to that girl
I bread my misery and drowned it in her
And she got me high
And I hardly noticed there were tears in her eyes

And I miss you less and less everyday
This stream of whisky's helped to wash you away

And it's clear to see
You're nothing special
You're a skeleton key

You've gotta let me know
You've gotta let me know
You've gotta let me know
You've gotta let me know

"Anorak Christmas" - Sally Shapiro

2008-06-25T10:15:00.000-07:00

what up ya'll,

what is wrong with me? why do i like this? i'm not going to explain what it is (gay). i'm not going to explain what it isn't (masculine). i'm not going to explain how it makes me feel (like a princess).

take a listen to this one and let me know what you think. you know, truth be told, i once dated a girl (that's only partly true) that had a friend, right? (that in itself is partly true because we all know girls secretly hate their own girlfriends). well, her friend would talk in the most, high-pitched voice and try to sound all cute and stuff, like a baby sea otter and stuff.

well, she'd always complain about how her friend always tried so hard to sound cute and impress all the boys by speaking that way. i'd agree with her, too -- "for real, what the fuck. i hate it when she talks like that, all sounding like a baby sea otter and stuff."

(and all cute and stuff)

-- sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/jkvwgyog80

Shaq Freestyle - Kobe Diss

2008-06-23T22:38:00.001-07:00

what up everyone,

today's track is a link that you guys need to check out. no downloading, just a straight up youtube shaq freestyle. i'm sure this will draw a reaction out of everyone so check this out. i think this is from a peter gunnz concert:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u8j1N2ttUqk

and that's why i love shaq's persona. here's the deal, shaq used to rhyme with fu schnikens back in the day. on top of that, he once rocked this verse big time on a rare wu tang cut from back in the day...before he blew up. so i give him credit, he's in the thick of hip hop culture and he holds his own as a freestyle. you can tell when you hear it that none of it is premeditated -- which is an insecurity that plagues most of the dopest MCs.

enough jibba jabba, click that shit fool!

-- sonnyred

"Kindling" - Architecture in Helsinki

2008-06-23T11:58:00.000-07:00

hello all,

hope everyone had a nice weekend. an interesting phenomenon happened to me last night. i was searching for my car keys, fuck it, lost it, i have a "hide-a-key" somewhere, no biggie. i retraced my steps and found them! how often does that happen? when someone tells you they lose something....

them: i lost _____.
you: where did you last leave them?
them: i don't know. (if they're a smart ass, "if i knew i wouldn't have lost them right?")
you: did you try retracing your steps?
them: yes. i didn't see them

(here is where you stop giving a fuck about where the _________ are because of that smart ass comment earlier)

well, i retraced my steps and found them!! how often does that occur? for a stoner, never. that goes vamoosh, and next thing you know i'm wrapping a towel around my elbow so that i can smash the window in.

ok, architecture in helsinki. sending because: 1) cindy loves them. 2) listening to them really made me feel comfortable when i was on those 14 hour overnight bus rides from central turkey or 12 hour soviet train rides through ukraine. listening to this as you cruise through nowhere, in the middle of the night, with a bunch of people staring at you, is like tomato soup for your grilled cheese heart.

and you know, at first listen, they're quite cute like a basketfull of puppies. but you really listen to the lyrics and follow along with the word play, you'll realize these aussies are also smart and meaningful. it's like a basketful of puppies that do long division.

hopefully you can see the beauty in them, too. have a good work week. and if you don't, remember, it's only work.

-- sonnyred.

http://www.box.net/shared/ggiyvyn0g0

KINDLING
You won’t count to seven it’s usually ‘til ten.
To hell with Sydney girls you’re much better than them.

On my mattress I’ve been drawing a line,
where I’ll shut my eyes and where you should lie,
you should lie, if you should lie.
I’ll be a lighter of fires,
you be the fighter of fires,
I’ll be the fighter of fires,
you be the lighter fires.

Should I choose to stay here now all depends,
on buildings, buses, streets, trees, rain and friends

on my mattress I’ve been drawing a line,
where I’ll shut my eyes and where you should lie,
If you should lie.
I’ll be a lighter of fires
you’ll be a fighter of fires,
I’ll be a fighter of fires
you be a lighter of fires.

DJ T-Rock and Squashy Nice (no idea what the track names are)

2008-06-22T22:48:00.000-07:00

what up everyone,

everyone staying warm, i'm sure? hope you all had a good weekend...so i was driving somewhere and realized that i forgot my ipod. "shit, what do i do? i'm such a slave to it."

well, i was only down the block but you know..gas prices and what not. so, while i was gone a bunch of people borrowed my truck so that they could move stuff, i turned on the radio and discovered that they're still rotating the same ol' bullshit on kroq as they did 10-15 years ago, so fuck it! i was so angry.

then i went through a few cds. cds that i buy or obtain and never listen to. and some of which my friends throw into my truck to rock while they move stuff. you know, outside the venues when they have those cats trying to sell their stuff? like it or not, i usually like to show some support (too $hort style) to sustain their efforts. threw one in and it was awful.

then i threw this one in and don't ever remember it being given to me. what a gift!! i'm so happy to have come across this gem. i've attached two tracks for you guys to listen to. the entire cd has this same chill mood that'll go perfect with caiparinahs and the summer solstice. hip hop, is glorious.

either way, enjoy.

-- sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/ijzvtf9ws8
http://www.box.net/shared/y67ouwly8g

"Spanish Winter" - Blu

2008-06-19T11:01:00.000-07:00

what up ya'll,

my bad for not sending out a song yesterday, i was too busy doing nothing; living that "bro"-hemian lifestyle, word? well, as i mentioned earlier, i'm pretty stoked with blu, this new mc on the scene.

it's just not as great as it used to be, but you know, it doesn't mean we can't give up on this and give up on the next dawn of hip hop. you know, i was thinking about this a few years ago, things run in cycles, right?

and you know with great force comes great opposition. remember the golden era of underground hip hop (92-97?) there was that whole westside connection/gangsta shit that was just blowing the fuck up on the radio. so it's not like it was all gravy, there was opposition. and i remember a time when the only cats that rocked new balances were old white men. i rocked the camoflauge, rugged stuff and all those gangsta raps cat would get all beefed up at me at the mall...definitely opposition. clowned at, laughed at, but then you know...when wu dropped wu tang forever, a bunch of those cats started rocking the chrome dipped plastic medallions and i turned the table on them and started exploiting them.

either way, i think a year or two ago westside connection tried dropping another big, gangsta west coast anthem and i was secretly praying that underground will witness a resurgence. but you know, none of them really made any waves.

perhaps the reason underground hip hop/rap has become so stagnant is because even mainstream rap has become stagnant. i totally hope that wack shit will come back. but as long as ya'll have your tvs tuned to mtv, everyone will have to suffer with mediocre shit.

-- sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/j5avstvokc

"Love and Death" - The Stills

2008-06-16T11:04:00.000-07:00

what up everyone?

hope you all had fun rejoicing in the lakers' victory last night. this isn't about sports, but i just thought you all should know that we are all witnessing a historical comeback...that's all.

but yeah, the stills, i sent them last week and people were feeling them so i decided to send out another one of their tracks. i can't take these guys serious as "artists" that furthers music's existence but you know...as i said last time, i think they are a very well-produced band (the way certain bands make good music, but doesn't make good art). if you read along with the lyrics, you'll see that they're rather doogie howser. but still it's catchy and it works. even the title "love and death" is uber-gay, but whatever. i like them and i will listen to them for the mood they create, not the feelings they evoke.

was that deep? (i know so). wade long enough and you'll drown. (i think so).

enjoy
-- sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/wktpsk80gc

LOVE AND DEATH
I'll make my own way
I'd make my own way
Don't bother counting on me, loving me
Just stand back, I'm gone

Oh, this sorry joke
You're a joke
Is all we really need
There's nothing that I'd need

Too late and too bad
I'm stuck feeling bad
Without you, I'm a mess without you
Just don't know
This is really not a joke
You're all I really need
You're all I really need

And I'm just so bored of wasting my time
Love and death are always on my mind
And I'm just so sick of wasting my time
Love and death are always on my mind

I'll make my own way
I'd make my own way
Don't bother kissing on me, loving me
Just stand back, I'm gone

Oh, this sorry joke
You're a joke
Is all we really need
There's nothing that I'd bring

And I'm just so bored of wasting my time
Love and death are always on my mind
And I'm just so sick of wasting my time
Love and death are always on my mind

"One Question" - Sean Price

2008-06-16T01:31:00.000-07:00

lakers lakers ya'll!

whatever. hope everyone had a nice weekend and stuff. just wanted you guys to start off your workweek with a nice, soulful joint! damn, that cat dj babu (of beat junkies/dilated people) fame is really making some hot tracks, i guess.

i heard this sean price track, assumed it was dope ass 9th wonder on the beat, then sean price pops in with babu on the beats. i'm glad that him and other turntablists are taking the next step into producing tracks (and doing a good job at them).

ok, brief history about sean price. he's from old school hip hop (east coast) group, heltah skeltah. he was part of a bigger collective that was like wu-tang or new edition....

duck down records crew >>> boot camp click >>> heltah skeltah >>> tawshawn rock and tawshawn ruck.

but i think he had a falling out with ruck (he was rock). and ogc (originoo gun clappaz...i sent out some tracks by them before, "hurricane starang" and "no fear") combined with heltah skeltah was the fab 5. just crazy connections.

and you know 9th wonder did cd with sean price, and 9th wonder is originally from little brother, but they had a falling out...

just so much drama, that's why hip hop is so big and popular; it eludes, it paints this exotic, ghetto landscape, and it is PERSONIFIED. it is a living, breathing monster, and it will trounce you.

enjoy!

-- sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/yxdbuib0o4

"Whassup With You" - Buckshot

2008-06-12T11:00:00.001-07:00

what up ya'll?

you know, there's this magician, his name is 9th wonder. everything he touches rarely turns gold, but you know, he has this power to control people. to make people do things from thousands of miles away, and he doesn't even have to know you exist in order to do so.

it's magical. he's not dilla (he's alive). he's not kanye (dare i say he's more soulful?). he's 9th wonder. and whenever roy tells me there's a new track/album that gets produced by 9th, i just get all excited inside.

he can't make club anthems the way kanye does, with people going crazy and buying horizontal venetian-blind sunglasses, he isn't as marketable to non-black folk. and then there's dilla, my favorite of course, but you know, 9th doesn't make bangers with those choppy, distorted drums. he probably can't lure in those skater dudes that also like that style of beats that just bangs on your eardrums.

a kanye track makes me want to dance or turn up my speakers. a dilla beat makes me want to curl my lower lip and stick my chin out. a 9th wonder beat turns my head into an ocean buoy.

9th wonder is some skinny ass ordinary black dude that turns into that old school wrestler zeus when he gets behind a mixing board. you won't find him on kiis fm or power 106, or in the latest skate video...but if you find yourself slouching back at a booth, where girls rock kangols and sweaty thighs, you'll find a 9th wonder beat. he inhabits classy joints, he adds melanin to the palest of souls, he makes you want to bob your head so much you'll get muthafuckin scoliosis.

(and shit)

http://www.box.net/shared/a0xeunvy88

"Thousand Miles" - Iron and Wine

2008-06-11T23:15:00.000-07:00

hello all,

i was lying down on my back, chilling the other day, back in la, enjoying the newborn summer and what not. you know, arms behind my head as if i was just about to be put under arrest for lounging. enjoying and thinking about my freedom on that tuesday afternoon, i just noticed this small birthmark/mole thing on the inside of my bicep for the first time and wondered how long it had been there and why i didn't notice it before.

just one of the side effects of living for yourself, right? but you know, with freedom comes accountability and with freedom comes independence and with freedom comes self-reliance and it's wonderful...this independence comes at quite a small price, and it's not check-to-check, either. what more than having a few minor things go unnoticed and another slice of pizza that you shouldn't have, and purchasing family-sized bottles of bourbon at costco with no reservations, right? i mean, a tree falls in the forest and it doesn't matter whether or not it makes a sound.

i have a birthmark/mole thing on the inside of my arm.

a tree fell in the forest and it sounded like this...

-- sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/r2suejhssg

THOUSAND MILES

Pull the braid from your hair, so it falls down your back
I just passed Spartanburg, cigarettes on the dash
Will you wait on the swing, in the front of the house?
Or the steps of the porch in a white cotton blouse?

Thousand miles that I drove, thirty more left to go
Will you cry when you wake, when you see me today?
Is your father at home? Does he know where I’ve been?
He don’t like me because I remind you of him
Let’s just drive to the point, watch the sky lose the light
I’ve been gone far too long not to kiss you tonight

Thousand miles that I drove, thirty more left to go
Will you cry when you wake, when you see me today?

Na na na
Na na na
Na na na
Na na na
Na na na
Na na na

"Are You Swimming In Her Pools?" - Swan Lake

2008-06-11T15:35:00.000-07:00

"will be you still be there when it's time to fill the pools again?"

ok, you have her, but are you going to stick around? how bout when the going gets rough? i mean, because i would. what's going on with you guys? is she treating you well (that way i can imagine what it'd be like if it was me, that was with her). no, it's true that you're good for her but i just want to be sure that you'll take good care of her. you know, all the things you are ready to give her, i am ready too, you know, in case you didn't, well maybe you should. yes, i'm sure...you guys make a good couple and i'm thinking you guys will have a good life.

but really, what i'm saying is,
"it could've been me."

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/swk3gbew48

Are you swimming in her pools?
Are you swimming in her pools?

Will you be brushing off her snow?
Will you be brushing off her snow?
Will you be brushing off her snow?

How can you stand the cold?
How can you stand the cold?

And if you're still there when it snows
Will you still be there when it goes?
Will you still be there when it's time
To fill the pools again?

And will you be coming back here?
Will you be coming back here?
Will you be coming back here?

Are you running up the river banks
And tracing them like long fingers
Are you running up her river banks
And navigating them?
Fingers of a hand

'Cause fingers make the hand
And rivers make the land

Is she cradling you well?
Oh is she cradling you well?
'Cause if I call you baby, she should cradle you well

Does she fucking know?
Does she fucking know?

And how the lines that appear around your eyes
When you are smiling
Are revered for the way in which they always reappear

Oh, will you be coming back here?
Oh, will you be coming back here?
Oh, will you be coming back here?

I hope you find your mother
I hope you find your mother there
I hope you find your mother there

You hit the ground running with a terrifying speed
But it's the ground you cover that terrifies me
And brace yourself for the sound of bleeding

'Cause bleeding hearts bleed
Bleeding hearts bleed
Bleeding hearts bleed

And "please" is not a word that I ever say quietly...

You said your love was fierce, fierce, fierce
You said your love was fierce, it's true
You said your love was fierce, fierce, fierce
You said your love was fierce and I agree with you

His child of the future is the child I am seeing, too
You said your love was fierce and I agree with you
These tigers at heart are the tigers I am seeing, too
You said your love was fierce and I agree with you

"Baby Blues" - The Stills

2008-06-06T16:08:00.001-07:00

hey all,

back in business...and i got my new lappie in transit so once that gets all established i'mma head over to roy's pad and just let my laptop and his harddrive bump uglies and produce babies and what not and i'll put 'em up for adoption.

not going to say too much about how i feel about being back here -- with every end comes a beginning i guess. but uhhh....how gay is this but i think i'm slowly gravitating towards "electro" music...it just seems like a natural evolution for me -- i ditched emo, punk and stuff (which i really dug) so it's just a new phase.

either way, i can't believe this song didn't catch my attention earlier, but man, did it catch me at the right time....last night in amsterdam, drinking/smoking/conversing at 4:30 am, only to wake up at 6:00 to catch a flight back. though totally inebriated, i found myself, at the brink of successfully completing my book, talking to one of the most integral people in my life, and trying to stretch the hours of the day and extend the night as long as possible. this song came out of nowhere and then the line

"this isn't the town where i wanna die"

came on and it hit me like a ton of bricks...i really don't deserve to indulge in that self-analysis, but this song really marked the end of my journey so i wanted to share it with you all. music can mean so many things, and the beauty of it is that you can pick and choose what you want from it. there really is no other form of communication quite like it. words so tangible and rigid and fluid and esoteric and melodic at the same time...how godly....

soul's on ice. mind's aflame.

-- sonnyred

BABY BLUES

I’ve doubled my pace
For half of your smile
I’m tiger-posed
I’m doggy-bagged
Crime or offence
Don’t make you cry
I love your heart
I’ve combed your eyes
I see it in your feet
Racing to mine

I like to dream
I’m caught in the sky
I hang by the fears that
Staple my life
The winter was long
The mountains were high
The fire burns blue
As I wave my goodbyes
This isn’t the town where
I wanna die

I’m worth the time
In all sincerity
I’m honestly happy
With you

So let’s make it fast
Like lightning through the cars
But just like the sixties
We won’t get very far
I’m into looks
But I’m also into books
I see it in your smile

http://www.box.net/shared/of232w18o0

MY MIX CD TO THE WORLD

2008-03-02T18:00:00.000-08:00

Is up??
What
The Fuck

I've been deep in thought for the past month; trying to come up the mix CD that I will be handing out as a gift to the folks I'll be staying with. At first I was going to make three different CDs: hip hop, indie rock, and roots reggae and give them all a choice; but for real, I know it might be too much hotness for them and they'll have to set out to go buy a new pair of potholders; therefore, I made what I deem to be a fucking bomb ass CD of American-style music.

Of course, of course, the world has gotten smaller and I'm sure many of these cats are already into a lot of cool music. They (like you) may shrug me off like, "Whatever, I listen to Internet radio or read Blender or whatever so I already know what's up with tasteful, independent music, so fuck off, Sonnyred!"

But for real, I'm hitting you all on the heads with this ultimate, seven-layer burrito of below-the-radar tunes. It really took me a long time to decide on what songs to pick; and it took me the better part of three days to determine the order of the songs.

My main goal, as lofty as can be, is to bring refined American (and lesser known international acts) music to the masses and ingrain them with the beauty, tragedy, diversity, art and soulfulness that our people have to offer. People here don't know shit about hip hop, so of course I had to make a push for it.

Before I take you on this journey, please consider a few things:

1. I know I can put bigger bands, but for real, who cares? I'm not trying to put the best of the best; I'm just trying to put songs that I think they may be ready for. For example, I'm not going include TV On the Radio because the average listener may take years to acquire a taste for them, and let's face it, Eastern Europeans' music quotient is so low and undeveloped that they may never grow to like it. And I didn't put in Iron and Wine's "Sodom, South Georgia" because though it's my favorite song, I may be staying with Muslims and I don't want to offend them. So anyway, I want give the people so much enchantment, they'd think I was sticking a Fantasia Mickey Mouse up their ass. But at the same time, I realize I have to ease it in. Meow!

2. The main thing I tried to create here is a mood; just chill and mellow. I didn't want to include bands that are well-known in the international community (Bloc Party, Interpol, other UK bands). I wanted to put in songs that they would never hear if it weren't for me.

3. Please remember my target audience is comprised of mostly women. But because I may also be staying men or couples, I'm not going to make a "baby making mixtape." Besides, with the women, I'd have to get to know them, take an emotional compatibility test with them, meet their parents, and pet their donkeys before I break that physical barrier and try to hold their hand.

4. So as you listen, take note of how I control the mood with the transitions, medley up the genres and leave them, wanting more! "How you feeling, shorty? Ah nah, it ain't even like that. Wow, your shoulders....they're so tense. Let me get that for you. Eww, wee, sooky sooky now."

Now, with that, here's how I'm representing the American music scene:

HI - Psapp Starting off the CD with something a little Latin-esque should buy some instant credibility. Just a nice little ice breaker that's melodic and catchy. Lyrics are rather juvenile but easy to understand.

THE SKIN OF MY COUNTRY YELLOW TEETH - Clap Your Hands Say Yeah Tempo speeds up with a more complicated instrumental attack should divert the attention from the fact that music has gotten a lot more complicated and the lyrics have gotten a lot less decipherable. Based on the way the song builds up, by now they should now be engrossed with their naiveté and there should be a call to arms for them to seek out new music.

TRUE AFFECTION - The Blow I put in this song because it's a fucking cute ass song. This should buy me some comfort if the previous song was a little too tumultuous. Super catchy, innocent and sweetly sung. This should lower their guard as they embrace for the next song.

CLOSER - Goapele
Every girl I've ever played this song for loved it. Simple as that. Also a great way to introduce some soul to them.

1NCE AGAIN - A Tribe Called Quest
Though not the most popular song from this well-respected hip hop act (it didn't even make their Anthology CD), it was produced by a hip hop legend (J Dilla) and it reminds of the first time I tried to dance with a girl at a club (and failed miserably).

FLY AWAY - Sa-Ra Creative Partners
With the previous song hyping up the mood, this song will turn up the funk. I really felt this song is the fruits of soul and diversity; and there was no way I was going to throw this song in without having Goapele and Tribe first. It would just been way too funky, like your breath.

MAKE IT WIT CHU - Queens of the Stone Age
This song starts the slow descend into the new foray of mellow songs. I have a feeling that this will be the most popular band on the CD, but more so in a "heard of them but never heard their songs" kind of way. After this, they can go off, buy their CDs and be in for a whopping surprise (download "Feel Good Hit of the Summer" for a taste).

YOU DON'T LOVE ME (NO NO NO) - Dawn Penn
Not American, but this song continues to thrive in the underground scene (beat was sampled in Visionaries and Haiku D' Etat within the past two years alone). Maybe people heard this song, maybe they haven't, but they should.

SILVER STALLION - Cat Power
There's this rockiness and bluesyness and seducing effect in Chan Marshall's voice. I think this song might be the least deviant out of the bunch, but has a real haunting emptiness. This is perhaps where the meat and potatoes of the conversation will start.

LORO - Pinback
Dude, I put this one in here because I enjoy listening to Pinback after a good surf sesh. I need something for me, too.

BLAH BLAH BLAH - Say Hi to Your Mom
This is one of those bands that the indiest of indie fans will never hear of. The intimate knowledge of this band will make their connection with good American music that much more exlcusive.

MUSHABOOM (POSTAL SERVICE REMIX) - Feist
Yes, she's big and famous -- iPod ad, Grammy nomination or whatever. Another conversation piece where I can say, "Hey, I worked at the agency that created those Apple ads." Its electronic sound may breathe a sigh of familiar relief to the underdeveloped, third world taste buds of Eastern European music fans. And though the cool ones probably know and love Feist, I'll bet they never heard the Postal Service remix of her song. "What? Oh yeah, Postal Service...Silverlake...oh it's an area in Los Angeles. What? You spent the entire day at the Wax Museum? Poor thing."

SECTION - The Roots
Now that we're making the way towards the end of the CD, the listener should have complete confidence in my selection and should be completely exposed and susceptible to all my music. This is where I push my hip hop agenda even further. Ok, whenever girls (or pussies) get into real hip hop, they always start off with The Roots (or Gay-Z). If they were Americans, I might have put in some Aceyalone (pseudo intellectuals eat that shit up) but I don't think they had ample time to indulge in deep thoughts if they're too busy putting mayo on all their shit.

PURPLE - Crustation
Another neo soul song just because by now they've gotten a fair dose of Black Music and should be intrigued enough to satiate their curiosity for this soulfulness. Maybe by now I convince them of my House Music Exit Strategy.

ROCK MY BOAT - Mai Doi Todd
I wanted to offer something a little more classy and sophisticated and brand new (to me) so I included this Martini drinking song.

SHE SAID - The Pharcyde
The purpose of this song is to show the range of hip hop music. Truly a smooth song with a self-deprecating display of what it's like to be a modern day bachelor.

HAITI - The Arcade Fire
Hopefully by now the listener will be paying closer attention to the songs. Initially, I had this as the opening act; but I was afraid the listener wouldn't be fully concentrated and just be taken away by the melody and not pay attention to the meaningful lyrics. And this is the song that they can always bust out at parties to display their "eclecticism."

DO YOU REMEMBER - Jill Scott
I think everyone should hear Jill Scott's voice at least once before they die. This is one of those songs that only a Black person can justly sing -- Amy Winehouse, Joss Stone, Michael Jackson....none of them can miracle whip up this song. Listening to this song, right now at 3:45 AM in Ukraine, just makes me want to go home and throw on a nice sweater.

NO FIT STATE - Hot Chip
I wanted to end the CD with another electronic style song. I also ended with this because the ending fucking drags out, but it's also just a pretty cool song that will hopefully leave the listener thirsting for more independent music.

----
And hopefully their interest will grow with each listen and they will venture outside of the CD and seek out more independent music. Like, imagine the day that Pinback plays Croatia. For real, I just want to bring financial independence to independent artists. I want good music to get recognized and rewarded so that we can perpetuate the art. And of course, I need to sink my fangs, plant my flag and leave my legacy.

Sonny. Fucking. Red.

Download here:
http://www.box.net/shared/vcjnrhskc4

(Please don't be lazy. You really have to listen to the CD in that order. It's fucking 4:00am now and I'm tired; meet me halfway).

"Down At McDonnellz" - Electric Six

2008-02-04T03:18:00.000-08:00

COOL BAND, DOOODE

you know, back in the day, when indians were discovering a new plant or food item; they would often feed it to a baby to test it to see if it was poisonous (for example, acorns are very poisonous to humans).

well, what i do with music, when i'm in doubt, is i go onto some specific people's facebook profiles and read their "music interests." there is one specific person, actually, that i go for the ultimate verdict; i go and check to see what he likes listening to and i'm then like, "holy shit." (none of those people are on this list, thankfully)

it's not about being able to identify "cool" music; that's easy! all you have to do is follow the recipe or compare the footprints (interpol and bloc party vs. killers and bravery). here are the basic levels of evaluating music:

I HEAR WHAT IT SOUNDS LIKE - i would say most people don't go beyond this; they fall for a catchy melody, lyrics that are easy to memorize and a message that doesn't require any second thoughts.

I HEAR WHAT IT'S SAYING (AND I KNOW WHAT IT MEANS) - this shows some refinement. there is a deeper, more emotive message to it and it is at a point where people can have an opinion on music and discuss it.

THIS SONG HAS AN EFFECT ON ME - the next level -- where the person starts to tout a specific artist and makes a case for him/her/them. it evokes a reaction in you and therefore becomes a good song. this is the last major stop for the remainder of the people; and only a fractional percentage go beyond this comfort zone.

I KNOW WHY THIS SONG EXISTS - this is the complete comprehension of it. when you're deciding what makes a good song, ask yourself why it exists. what is the motive? the purpose? what implications does it carry? how does it effect music? what (do you think) caused this song to be made? what does it contribute to the art? where did the song come from -- literally, influentially, what does it emulate? imitate?

"oh fuck you, Roe. you can't say shit. music's subjective. it's all a matter of opinion and you can't say the song sucks just because you don't like it. if someone likes it, then it's good to them and that's all that matters. the connection between the music and the listener; you're just quick to judge and criticize."

(i have to argue with myself because i'm sure ya'll think it; but ya'll don't speak it)

the problem is that people get lazy and stop processing the artist once it has an effect on them. "i like it. i rest my case." well, stopping there is cool; but it doesn't build a case at all. the truth is that there really is a difference between good music and bad music; and it's not as subjective as you may think. and there is a difference between people that know which artists are cool and people that know what actually makes an artist cool -- it mostly lies in the way the process and understand it.

-- sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/j5kxvm40o0

please, feel free to bash, refute, comment, ask additional questions, make any corrections to my logic. please don't ever feel intimidated -- we're here to build off each other, so let's have a word or two and build.

"Ijuswannachill" - Large Professor

2008-01-23T12:49:00.000-08:00

Fuck ok, no one will understand this except for all the older, So Cal cats, like myself. I was explaining pager language. Back in the day we didn't have cellphones or text messaging. And we couldn't always find a payphone, neither. And that shit was pricey as fuck! $.20 for 20 minutes of local calls. $1.00 for 3 minutes, anywhere in the US. Shit, I remember having to go to the mall to make those calls to the girls I was dating (more like, pursuing and getting rejected by and then saying, "Man, fuck this whole bullshit). Ok, I'm realizing that self deprecation will get you anywhere; so I'm exploiting the FUCK out of it.

Fuck, I really want to go into the intricacies of it but I'll just give you the basics. Roy is the expert pager guy, first on the block to rock the Bravo Express, clear pager case, melting crayons onto the motorola on the belt clips, rocking the long pager chains, etc. Ha! I got my first pager in 7th grade and thought I was the shit. Problem is that it was stolen so I had the audacity to return a page and get the number and then redistribute it to friends. Then you get voicemail and give your code to your girl (if you're a little bitch) and she'll either do your greeting message or check messages that you leave for her or check messages other people left you. There's this real art to it. Understand that sometimes, people will find toll free numbers to access their voicemails; so instead of dropping all your change, you just leave messages for each other. The original, ghetto message boards!

This is really going to date me and a few other folks. I guess for you younger veals, this is the "when I was your age, I had to type weird ass fucking numbers to create this one-way, text language." Now, the codes and numbers are different depending on where you're from (Valley, SGV, LA-LA, Glendale/Eagle Rock, Long Beach/Cerritos/Carson). But, here goes:

Basics (crypted by amount of letters in each word):
424 = call me back
143 = i love you
637 = always and forever

Urgency of page (so preface it with 424, different crypting)
2529 = asap
911 = now!
187 = pull the fuck over and call me, it's a straight up emergency, shit's going down

Now, the alphabet (it really depends on how each person does it, but this is, in my opinion, the best way of coding it). The real science is looking at each letter, and then seeing what number (or combination of numbers) will resemble it best -- sometimes the letters are upside down, sometimes you have to stretch your imagination and consider other people's alphabet (since a 6 can be many things, use rarer number to represent other letters so there's less of a mix up). Keep in mind, the numbers appear all blocky, like an alarm clock, back then:

A = 2
B = 8
C = 6
D = 0
E = 3
F = 9
G = 6
H = 4
I = 1
J = 7
K = 15 (use your imagination, but sometimes just spell the word with a C)
L = 1 (can get real messy if you spell out "will")
M = 177 (see it, now?)
N = 17
O = 0
P = 9
Q = 9 (because 9 is only reserved for P or F, there will be little ambiguity should you ever have to spell a word with Q)
R = 12
S = 5
T = 7
U = 17 (upside down)
V = 17 (figure out the word)
W = 177
X = 8
Y = 4
Z = 2

Where's my diaper, I need to take a shit. Ok, so:
Roe = 1203
Katie = 152713
Hip Hop = 419 409

Get it? Now you can chuck that shit out the window; you ain't ever going to use it, ever again! But fuck me for the possibility that one day you'll end up in a time warp and go back to 1992 and don't know how to ditch school, tell your love interest you love her (always and forever if you're as gay as me), call your homies because you're about to get your ass JUMPED!

Ha, Roy. Did that make you feel young again? Know what else works? Shaving your fucking thick, well-developed mustache. Ha!

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/vtqmf1y2o4

Next topic of discussion: The G Line (whassup whasssup)

"Brainy" - The National

2008-01-14T12:00:00.000-08:00

Hello All,

So it looks like I'll be taking off in about three weeks so I need to learn to shut up a little more and type a little less in my write ups so that I can prepare for the journey. So, tomorrow I'll fill you all in on my rough itinerary in hopes that you guys will have hookups in those countries or can recommend some places to visit or enter and slash or some cute women to visit or enter.

I must say that the past week was a hectic week in music for me. Started off with 120 gigs of music to go through, and by Friday I was down to 24 gigs. Savior (and asshole at the same time) Roy came through on Friday night and blessed me with about 7 gigs of music so now I have to go through another 1100+ songs. Roy, get a sex transplant and let's make babies. Ok, no need for that, just buy a wig, yeah (I don't care what style, just make it human hair)?

Ok, so just to give you guys a sense of what's on my plate. I'm scared shitless; which explains my rush to get to the music. I have to go through Eastern Europe, through all the techno and house with one grand finale iPod. It's like I'm Noah with limited occupancy; wielding a machete through my library, slashing songs and artists and albums like a used car salesman. And I mean it in a literal sense. A used car salesman, holding a sword, literally slashing albums at Tower Records.

That's how fucking crazy I am.

Hopefully you can empathize with me for a second, I have one 30 gig iPod and I won't be able to update it for almost half a year. This is driving me nuts. A lot of artists simply aren't going to make it for the journey. I've let go of all my emo, grunge, psychobilly and punk songs. I have no metal, no KROQ songs (except for a few) and I'm just hoping that I can fall in love with a few artists before I go on my journey. I can't even update my smart playlists....oy vey!

Dude, so today's band came into my existence just a few hours ago. Fuck, I like them a plenty. I'm really feeling them, I'm really feeling optimistic. Anyway, I hope to bring forth some good music before I bounce and I hope to like, somehow permanently etch myself into your memory banks at the same time.

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/1mkt1cpkck

Hip Hop, Its Use of Nigga, and Its Implications On the Non-Black World

2008-01-09T15:25:00.001-08:00

Allow me to disclose the fact that I'm not trying to write a political piece, at all. To further illustrate it, I said Black, instead of African-American. African-American is such a rigid term; actually, I find it to be more offensive of the two. It’s used with good intent, with its manifest function serving as a politically correct show of respect and tolerance. However, latently, it is also a distinguishing term – creating an us - them dynamic that is, in my opinion, far more detrimental to society’s perspective on the world. So, to recap, I refer to Blacks as Blacks, Whites as Whites, Filipinos as Mexicans, etc. I was totally kidding on the last statement so don't cry.

Let’s start off with the word, Nigger. Merely access your own internal reaction to it and there is no denial of its weight. It’s wrong and I swear to never say it again, but I needed to illustrate my point. It’s a word, so powerful and dense with history that I’m sure your hands are hovering over your mouse just so that you can minimize your computer screen in case someone goes near it.

“Oh my, oh my, oh my. Please, Shirley, I hope my eyes are deceiving me because I just glanced at your computer monitor and….”

Iron Mike Tyson of a word, right? Well then, how about the word Nigga? It leaves non-Black folks (like myself) in a bind. I mean, it’s another intonation of the aforementioned; it’s still Mike Tyson, but more so in a crazy-ass-tribal-tattoo-on-the-face kind of way than a sexy-ass-Robin-Givens-on-the-face kind of way. It’s like what crack is to cocaine, but due to its lower potency level, cost effectiveness and accessibility, the term Nigga experiences more widespread usage. However, the major difference is that the Nigga seems to be more of a mindset than an identity. For example, Cypress Hill uses it, and B Real is Cuban, que’ no? And if you’re from the East Coast and you’re Puerto Rican, it’s like you’re getting unlimited minutes just by being in close proximity of Blacks. But, if you’re Boricuo and from San Bernardino, you’ll be in for a shocker when you yell it out while you’re losing at Street Fighter at the Gameworks in Ontario Mills. I guess the West Coast equivalent for the Non-Black community and its permissible use of the word Nigga would lie in the hands of, like, anyone who lives in the city of LONG BEACH.

But how about a cat, such as myself? I don’t know if my use or non-use of it is a reflection of my ignorance or my attempt at being polite/politically correct. I mean, I hear it in the song and shit, like, they fucking wrote it, right there, in the song. I’m not going to substitute that verse for the fucking radio version. That is why the best MC will always be Black; simply because he can use the word generously. Not being allowed to say it is equivalent to using steroids in bodybuilding; it’s wrong but you cannot be a serious contender without it. I’ve always pondered it in my mind, and a strange thing happened to me a few years ago that made me realize I could no longer ignore its taboo usage….

It was during an annual snowboarding trip to Big Bear, among friends and friends-of-friends. Turned out there was this one cat, a White guy that shared a mutual love for hip hop. So of course I took out the Lame Day album (American Idiot was humungous that year) that was playing and threw in my iPod playlist, “Classic 90s Hip Hop Joints.” Befuddled at first, we soon wove a common thread once “Fu-Gee-La” came on. We were elevated and in unison started rapping to it. Then I thought, “Ok, Lauryn Hill’s verse is coming on and she says, ‘niggas huff and they puff but they can’t handle us.’ How am I going to address it?” He started to mute his voice; and the quivering of his mouth suggested he was thinking the exact same thing, so we both looked at each other. Cliff hangers suck.

Which brings me to this point -- when is it permissible for a non-Black person to yelp it out? To me, it’s anytime I want to feel just plain gangsta. To my ghetto ass friends, it’s anytime. To my colleagues, it’s “oh my, I would never say such a thing.” It’s not like I am exercising my first Amendment right to use it generously, but the same music that glamorizes nigga is the same music that pumps through my veins. As I mentioned earlier, it’s a mindset for most, but for me, it’s a part of my Hip Hop, cultural vernacular. Nigga isn’t meant to be righteous or correct; and neither is Hip Hop. It’s just meant to be, as is, and I guess I’ll have to take away from it what I will and use it accordingly.

Currently, I find myself in this awkward place where I can still use it liberally (in its appropriate context) as long as I consider the possible, oppressing ramifications it may have on my audience. Trust me guys, I anticipate your reactions and I am always curious to observe how people respond when they, too, are faced with the predicament. And to all the Black folks, please know that everyone secretly wishes they could incorporate it into their daily vocabulary because it just makes us feel all gangsta (and shit).

And don’t worry, all you nigga loving, non-Black folks; I’m not going to keep you hanging, so here is my basic rule of thumb. Privacy of your own car = Yes. In the company of close friends that know you = Yes. In the company of friends that you know = Not necessarily. In a work environment = Hell no. Dancing at a club where they play hip hop music = Depends but should be ok so long as it’s at a Black club and you’re a White girl (I’d say it’s fine). College bar = Don’t do it, even if you are Black. Underground hip hop show = permissible, but only try to make eye contact with the artist so that you can explain yourself by saying that you were so captivated by the performance and that of course you don’t have any ill meaning by it and “come on man, I’m a hip hop head.” Just don’t say your best friend’s Black. Punks jump up to get beat down. And all you Uncle Tom, yuppie Black folks…nigga please.

You see, a tolerance mindset started taking form in the late 60s. Fast forward to now and you’ll see that it’s so correct that even the term Wigger seems derogatory (I’m still trying to figure out which group finds it more offensive).

Throughout my upbringing, I was raised on the acceptance standpoint. I had to accept the fact that Whites were going to lump me into the same boat as all Asians and start a fight with me (6 wins, 1 loss). I had to accept the fact that Filipinos were going to think I’m also Filipino and that they’ll start shit because they thought I was from the same privileged, yet neglectful background as them (1 win, 0 losses). I had to accept the fact that any Asian gang was going to think that I was from either Wa Ching or Asian Boys and try to start shit with me no matter how I responded. And finally, I had to accept the fact that Mexican kids were going to ask me if I knew Karate and try to kick my ass because I was un chino, cochino (6 wins, 14+ losses). You see, tolerance is institutionalized and forced by law. Acceptance, on the other hand, is the maturation of the outcome and the next natural step; but not necessarily better, either. But perhaps with discussions and reconsiderations like these; in the form of arguments or even the shattering of friendships, can we, as a generation, perpetuate society to the next stage. From tolerance (where the coexistence is coerced) and acceptance (where you just kind of have to fucking deal with it) to embracement – where we discover that the differences and similarities and between us are merely two sides of the same coin (and we’re like, “fuck it, doode!”). Our generation can build this house, and niggas…they can huff and they can puff, but they’ll never handle us.

--- Sonnyred (proefound@yahoo.com)

Simplified version: Sometimes, I just want to say nigga.

"No Need to Cry" - British Sea Power

2008-01-07T13:55:00.001-08:00

Hello All,

The laundry lint sky loomed over us this past weekend, but it looks like the sun found its way to help usher us through the week so hold onto your receipts (you'll be able to exchanging your umbrellas for parasols soon enough).

Well, a civil unrest between my mind and my heart has been taking place over the past few weeks. First of all, I love driving through our beautiful city when it rains. A cerebral experience where you can succinctly feel so at peace and so in the throes of the earth's cries. It brings me closer to God; a baptizing experience that the sun doesn't want you to know about.

And through the clogged arteries of the Angel, it grants me time to think. Waiting at intersections, I sit there and try to align the rate of my turn signals with that of the car in front of me...

BLINK - BLINK

One's always a little too late, one's moving at too fast a speed...sometimes they're not even turned on. But still, I find myself doing it all the time. Blinking, waiting, relieved at the initial synchronization, and then cursing the inevitable departure.

This past weekend, I found myself on Pier and Hermosa Avenues. I had a shitload of boat on my mind; and selfishly, I paid little attention to anything else...

BLINK - BLINK

And though I found her in complete unison, all I could do was scold at that inevitable departure; and foolishly, paid no attention to anything else.

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/3srt1w1wk4

"Do Ya Thing" - Black Milk feat J Dilla

2008-01-03T15:22:00.000-08:00

Hello All,

Hope you all had a good tail end of the year. Damn, so much change on my part in the past month. Just to recap a little on my end: got my nose sliced almost all the fuck off, lost my job, put surfing on a temporary six month hiatus, preparing for a life changing journey (covert operation to spread "real" hip hop to the Europeans). That's right blokes, take off that Lady Sovereign and MIA and Dizzie Rascal Flats.

It was tough because I had to do all this crazy PC/old Dell/reformatting iPod hoopla bullshit so that I could get this song thing up and running again. I'm now living within gunshot of Roy so you know I'm going to come with it in 08. I'm going to stay on this hip hop thing until I leave because I'm not really sure when/if I'm coming back. Either way, till then the most important thing I can do is really just put solid bangers on my iPod to carry me through all the techno clubs.

The most interesting thing that has happened to me is that I moved back to my parents' house in Baldwin Park. I'm very much a family man so I'm glad to be spending time with my fams until I bounce. Needless to say, my parents welcome me back with open arms -- carne asada tacos waiting on the table and tamarindo in the fridge when I started moving stuff last week. No joke and I'm Thai. Then when I officially moved in my mom wanted to welcome me to feel comfortable so she bought me two tall boys of Magnum Malt Liquor. No joke and I'm Thai. (For real, ma? Don't you know that I've given up Malt Liquor that one time you bounced to Laughlin and I yacked it off of some 800? How about I don't know...a Malbec?). Finally, last night my friend called me up to come down and chill so I met him up at 7-11 and got some drinks on and caught up and he showed me updated pictures of all the hoodrats we used to kick it with -- all blown up and childbearing. No joke and I'm Thai. Simply talking to a few of my friends I've realized that at least 4 of my close friends became parents in the past two months alone. Good lord it's like I jumped straight up into the air as the Earth revolved a few thousand times and landed, back where I came from. A familiar place where I no longer belong. No joke and I'm different.

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/7xv8gh5q8c

"The New Year" - Death Cab for Cutie

2008-01-03T15:20:00.000-08:00

Hello All,

Hope you all had a wonderifus holiday. How gay is that? I need to develop some more creative greetings than that, eh? Either way, Julia hooked me up with this newfound inspiration from this book and I hope to step my game up in terms of writing. Even better news is that I'm quitting weed; so soon I'll actually remember what I read instead of relying on my intermittent subconscious to deliver the findings. Yep, I've decided to drop the anchor on my pot habit before my pot habit manifests into a pot belly. Ok, I'm not buying but I'll totally smoke if anyone has any. Ok, smoke me out and I'll buy you a drink, how bout that? Ok, really, they're less like absolutes and more like notso-oftens-as-I-usedtoos. Well, it's been two days....I need a sponsor to support me. Maybe Marlboro?

Well, I wanted to start off the year with Cat Power again. I know, I need to kick my habit of sending her as often as I do. You see, there's this thing going on...it's called laziness. Kind of, but then again, maybe I just really want everyone to like Cat Power. See, people? Keeping you on your toes.

I'm a fucking enigma. (therefore, justifying the line break)

En garde!

I just thought I'd bring this song up because it reminded me of how it seems like...I'm not going to make anything up. Ok, it's a new year. Let me send out a song that is reflective of it....hold on, I'm going to swap it out.

Ok, so this was the first song I've ever heard from Death Cab for Cutie about 4 years ago or so...whatever. I'm relatively new to this independent rock thing but I meticulously mask it with some self-righteousness and I comment on people's breath when they oppose me. It works, trust me. So, when I first heard the name, I thought "What the hell is this? Metal rockers with a flair for pet names? Or like a soccer mom driving her kids to...uhh...death..or like...Orange County!?!" Please don't make me think about Orange County anymore. Ever notice how there's both an "O" and a "C" in "Orange County is a piece of crap?"

Coincidence? Whatever, Stinky.

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/vlsefehgcg

"Special" - Dabrye feat. Guilty Simpson, Paradime

2007-12-18T15:21:00.000-08:00

December 17, 2007- Venice Grind Coffee
I went to meet a close friend. In between an article on gangs I was reading in LA Weekly, this brief conversation took place...

Me: Dude, guess what happened? I went to go pick up and I found out that someone broke in to my friend's stash and took it. Almost all of it is gone.
Person: No way....
Me: Yeah and what sucks is that it's probably one of his close friends, and I would probably know him also since we're all from the same neighborhood. Doesn't that suck? He slangs to support his family and shit. How could anyone do that to their own friend?
Person: Well, I don't know about that man. After all...
Me: After all, what? He got betrayed by one of his close friends. It's fucking weed, man. It's not crack or speed or anything. It's a peace drug.
Person: But you know, what he does is...you can't say he didn't deserve...
Me: Whoa, wait. You mean to tell me what he does is morally wrong? Selling marijuana to support his family and survive?
Person: Well, he is....
Me: So you mean to tell me that just because it's against the law, it's wrong? And so you must think that any act is fine, so long as it's legal?
Person: .................
Me: Wow. What an easy way to live life.

Finished the article in six minutes and left six seconds later. So, what does he think of me, then? After all, I am the seller, I am the thief. These are my people. This is where I am from.

This just stresses my dependence on hip hop culture; I don't just listen to it or throw out words like, "yo" or "shut the fuck up, stanky ass bitch". I need the folklore to empower me, for my placement in society. And as I tread through life, subtle exchanges like this only help me further develop my sense of self and who I am and who I never want to be.

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/pvtr8994d8

"Cat Claw" - The Kills

2007-12-17T10:41:00.000-08:00

Hello All,

What a beautiful weekend, eh? I've decided to tote around a notebook so that I can doodle and write and have people I meet write in it also, like a yearbook. Well, en route to a someone's house yesterday I went to watch the surfers and thought you guys might be interested in a little thought process. This is what I wrote in my notebook:

12/16/07 – El Porto at 2:19 PM

Parking lot at El Porto
Watching surfers in the water
Saw a guy walking back – frustrated, but a willful smile
At least he can say he went surfing

THOUGHT: I cannot say that I went surfing today.

12/16/07 – Someone's Apartment
Going through Polaroid pictures of Christmas party. She offered me one choice of 5 photos.

Her, Me
Her, Me
Her, Me, Paul, Paul's Date
Her, Me, Paul, Paul's Date
Her, Mike

CHOICE: 5.
THOUGHT: Fuck that.

http://www.box.net/shared/f0naklog4p

-- Sonnyred!

"Say You Do" - TV on the Radio

2007-12-14T12:45:00.000-08:00

So I was just thinking about this, just now, a few minutes shy of a friend’s visit, a few more on top of that for some fresh pizza (extra sauce, extra cheese, extra fuck yeah), and a few hours more from my going away party at Barcopa in Santa Monica.

And I was sitting there, existing, being high, listening to Sea Wolf on my couch and I thought about how people like to give me a hard time for the way I choose to adorn myself. As most of you know, at night I go out and wear these gay ass looking, flamboyant yellow-tinted, plastic framed glasses. I swear, people love busting my balls about them and of course I can’t blame them. It comes with the territory; it’s like a flare gun saying “douchebag alert.” And my reasons to justify them are definitely legit: they help with depth perception, it helps me compose my photographs, etc. All legitimate reasons. But truth is, you know and I know that I enjoy wearing them because I like to, it’s my moniker. It’s an altered reality, it’s a new way of perceiving my environment, it’s a constant sunset.

Well as I said earlier, I was sitting there, on my couch, thinking about whether or not I’m going to rock the golden glasses tonight. What the hell was I thinking; of fucking course I’m going to wear them tonight. Shortly after that, I began to think, “Ok Roe. Well, what are you going to say when someone asks you, ‘why do you like to wear those glasses so much?’ What are you going to answer?”

I’ll tell you why, my darling.

It’s because it makes me feel like a fucking celebrity.

Sonnyred is back.

http://www.box.net/shared/6cai27tdir
Here I am with one of my favorites.

---------------------------------------------

What is love can you tell me baby be,
Is it the hole you put inside me.
Yon cavernous crater young windswept cave,
If love is my salvation I don't want to be saved.

But I never met a girl like you.
Someone who made that dumb shit true
So oo oo.

(Love me love me love me, say you do)

when you do,
wont you say you do.

(Love me love me love me, say you do)

say you do.

Full capacity mind wake suck sainity I fake,
Not much more that I can take before I start to bend a break.
Burn the indian sky the sea, I blot out every memory,
And then I solemn vow I swear, I'll never ever ever fall again.

But I never met a girl like you,
Someone to keep my black heart blue.
And I'll always stay a little bit me,
The portrait of complicity.

Well its a lovely picture of me,
Hanging on the stars above me, Screaming girl why don't you love me.

Well its a lovely picture of me,
Hanging on the stars above me, Screaming girl why don't you love me.

Well its a lovely picture of me,
Hanging on the stars above me, Screaming girl why don't you love me.

Well its a lovely picture of me,
Hanging on the stars above me, Screaming girl why don't you love me.
(Lovely picture of me)
Say you do

(Love me love me love me, say you do)
(Love me love me love me, say you do)

Full capacity hard wake suck sainity I fake,
Not much more that I can take before I start to bend a break.
Burn the indian sky the sea, I blot out every memory,
And then I solemn vow I swear, I'll never ever ever fall again.

Full capacity hard wake suck sainity I fake,
Not much more that I can take before I start to bend a break.
Burn the indian sky the sea, I blot out every memory,
And then I solemn vow I swear, I'll never ever ever fall again.

Full capacity hard wake suck sainity I fake,
Not much more that I can take before I start to bend a break.
Burn the indian sky the sea, I blot out every memory,
And then I solemn vow I swear, I'll never ever ever fall again.

Snorty MacDougal - Art

2007-12-13T16:15:00.000-08:00

So I tried to do something creative here with the gauzes from my surf incident. It didn't turn out as "elegant" as I had expected but I'm still pretty stoked with the concept of using it as the media.

Yes, I was going to sign it by affixing my hospital bracelet to it but the band was yellow and it just took away from the subtleness of the mosaic.

I just wanted to immortalize this because it made me experience blood in new ways. With my face all fucked the fuck up I lost all sensation (due to local anesthesia). It was weird because usually when people experience blood, they see it, they feel it. On the operating table, I wasn't aware of the blood dripping down my mouth and lips; I was only made privy of it when I tasted it on my tongue. And the only way I knew that essences of my life were cascading down my cheek was when my eye would become flushed with a blanket of red liquid.

Sensory deprivation in ways I never imagined.

Here's Sonny with the Surf Report

2007-12-11T18:35:00.000-08:00

Just thought you guys would be interested in knowing what happened during my first week of being unemployed....

Date: 12/10/07 (yesterday)
Place: El Porto
Incident: On a wave, wave closed out, smacked me right in the face, fin hits my nose

I was on the wave, it smacked me on the face. Instantly, about half a pint of blood was lost. Saw another surfer and was like, "Shit, I broke my nose." However broken, I noticed that it felt all flappy (like a stingray) so I was a little concerned. Waved down the lifeguard and coincidentally he was the same
lifeguard that helped me when I got stung by a stingray (unlike a nose)!

Him: I remember your name. Didn't I help you with the stingray?
Me: Yes
Him: Let's hope this doesn't become a pattern
Me: I hope I never see you again. Tell you what though, if I do, next time I'm bringing you a fruitcake.

With no cashflow, I decided to drive myself to the ER rather than taking an ambulance, or a cab, or a rickshaw. There I am, in my truck and there's construction going on in the parking lot -- cement mixers and everything. Went out of my car, yelled at the foreman and ten minutes later I was on the road towards the hospital; clutching onto Noseagra Falls with my left hand and clutching onto the clutch with my left foot.

At the hospital, I waited three hours, in my wetsuit, full of sand and blood and water and bad hair and then the ER doc finally cleans up my nose (requiring 10 shots of local anesthesia). It was then that he deemed the injury to be a partial amputation and concludes that he can't handle the procedure. Therefore, I have to drive, in traffic, to Brentwood to go see a specialist.

The doctor sewed on over 25 stitches to my nose and now it's in a cast. Believe me when I tell you, SHIT HURT. They also took pictures of it (attached). I had about 16 more injections at this office (mouth, eye socket, about 10 more on the nose alone).

Cast is coming off tomorrow and I'll be able to go back into the water after a month. However, I'm done with surfing until I get full insurance again. What
else...uhhhh...oh yeah, ok, what's the bright side? (I'm praying for some pity lays).

Sexy scar? Nope, hideous. I was kind of hoping that the injury would mess up my tastebuds so that bacon would start to taste like vomit and brusselsprouts would begin to taste like Jessica Alba. Not that either. I'm still trying to unmask the blessing, but for now I will say that the best treatment for any ailment is the company and support of good friends.

That, my friends, comes with no copay

AIM Status Message

2007-11-30T17:26:00.000-08:00

"The Trapeze Swinger" - Iron and Wine

2007-11-29T11:15:00.000-08:00

Hello All,

Hope all is well. Last night, I witnessed one of the best concert performances, ever. Whoever is a fan of Iron and Wine needs to see him perform at least once. He remixes the songs and breathes new life into them. Sodom, South Georgia, my favorite song, was sung in an entirely different way that was equally as brilliant as the original. Well, I’m glad that I’m into music and not into cars. The best cars will cost you a fortune and a bullshit career and other false, material pursuits. Highly unlikely. In contrast, the best musicians aren’t found performing at the Staples Center, they’re found in small, niche places where you can shake their hand after the show. How I love the qualitative life.

Well, Sam Beam, this guy is my hero. I’m so sappy that leaves grow out of my ears squirrels run up my legs. But you know, I’d like to think of myself as a champion of hearts; a lifetime member of the Dead Poets Society. But either way, Sam Beam is the modern day Pablo Neruda. I was lucky to have been sitting, not even fifty feet, from someone whom I truly admire.

There are a few reasons why I enjoy sad, love songs. One, I’m more in touch with who I am and how I feel than most men. My talons have firmly held onto the whole notion of true love; the kind that after school specials are made of. I believe in love exclusive of compatibility. Second, I’m a guy! I can’t talk to the boyz (I even spelled it with a “z” to make it manlier) about how I truly feel. And as welcoming as my female friends are, those conversations often times result in me hearing about them. So, considering that there’s always a yin to any cheerful yang, I constantly find myself in deep dialogue with Sam. And it amazes me that in this life he will never know me. But in a parallel universe, through his music, I become him -- belching out tales of triumph and defeat...with the audio wavelengths between speaker and listener serving as the forum and passageway of my heart’s dissent.

The ability to love someone forever is meaningless without the capacity to hate them endlessly.

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/jubcivazf9

He ended the show with today’s song. To me, this song is about him talking to an ex-lover before as he dies and loses her forever.

THE TRAPEZE SWINGER
Please, remember me
Happily
By the rosebush laughing
With bruises on my chin
The time when
We counted every black car passing
Your house beneath the hill
And up until
Someone caught us in the kitchen
With maps, a mountain range
A piggy bank
A vision too removed to mention
But

Please, remember me
Fondly
I heard from someone you're still pretty
And then
They went on to say
That the pearly gates
Had some eloquent graffiti
Like "We'll meet again"
And "Fuck the man"
And "Tell my mother not to worry"
And angels with their great
Handshakes
Were always done in such a hurry
And

Please, remember me
At Halloween
Making fools of all the neighbors
Our faces painted white
By midnight
We'd forgotten one another
And when the morning came
I was ashamed
Only now it seems so silly
That season left the world
And then returned
And now you're lit up by the city
So

Please, remember me
Mistakenly
In the window of the tallest tower
Calling passers-by
But much too high
To see the empty road at happy hour
Gleam and resonate
Just like the gates
Around the holy kingdom
With words like "Lost and found"
And "Don't look down"
And "Someone save Temptation"
And

Please, remember me
As in the dream
We had as rug-burn babies
Among the fallen trees
And fast asleep
Aside the lions and the ladies
That called you what you like
And even might
Give a gift for your behavior
A fleeting chance to see
A trapeze
Swing as high as any savior
But

Please, remember me
My misery
And how it lost me all I wanted
Those dogs that love the rain
And chasing trains
The colored birds above their running
In circles around the well
And where it spells
On the wall behind St. Peter
So bright with cinder gray
And spray paint
"Who the hell can see forever?"
And

Please, remember me
Seldomly
In the car behind the carnival
My hand between your knees
You turned from me
And said, "The trapeze act was wonderful
But never meant to last"
The clown that passed
Saw me just come up with anger
When it filled with circus dogs
The parking lot
Had an element of danger
So

Please, remember me
Finally
And all my uphill clawing
My dear
But if I make
The pearly gates
Do my best to make a drawing
Of God and Lucifer
A boy and girl
An angel kissing on a sinner
A monkey and a man
A marching band
All around the frightened trapeze swingers

Na-na
Na-na-na
Na-na
Na-na . . .

"Bucktown" - Smif N Wessun

2007-11-28T10:35:00.000-08:00

So I was talking to the homie (won’t mention his name without his permission) and he’s in New York right now and it’s like damn. Fuck, even I get excited for my friends to go to New York for work or whatever. But he mentioned that he was at a bar with a bunch of suits and he heard nothing but classic joints (Itsowezeee) and stuff.

And that’s what I’m talking about. I think the strongest indication of any city or venue is their music. It’s a magnet man. You have a dope club and play some wack ass shit and it’ll either go for broke or it’ll level out with divorced lawyers and lame ass frat guys. Or you can have a shitty ass bar with good music and all of a sudden it’s the coolest place in town. The shittier the better, right? Well, eventually it gets recognition and then the yuppies come in and fuck it all up all over again. But they stand there, in the shitty environment, and they have no idea why they’re there other than they’re there because they’re supposed to be there. And you know, as the speakers praise the hip hop gospel, they’re erratically tapping their feet, itching and yearning for something familiar...

Usher maybe.
(Justin Timberlake hopefully)
But wait, I saw Hustle and Flow, where is that “Stomp that Bitch” song?
Let’s pray for some Jimmy Buffet
Anticipating, waiting for Sweet Caroline...

New York is full of said bars. The homie even told me so. First time I went there I walked into a random bar full of suits, and Tribe’s “Oh My God” was playing. The closest thing I’ve experienced here in LA was at The Dime (Fairfax Village). Walked in there randomly to celebrate a softball victory. Saw a bunch of Hollywood glam people, all attractive with sunglasses and cowboy hats and fancy, leather pants and they were all grooving. Paid attention to the snare in the beat and all of a sudden I was taken aback. If I was wearing Heelys I would’ve slipped and broken my tailbone. Today’s song was on and I was like, “Holy shit, that’s dope. These l people have no idea what they’re dancing too! They like to dance to this shit!”

I paused, then thought to myself, “Wow, that’s dope. I choose to live by this shit.”

Celebrate good times, c’mon!

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/bg6hq7c3p8

I apologize for all the swear words. I’m just very intense right now. Every time someone mentions New York I go ape shit. The city was meant for me.

"Eucalyptus" - The Deadly Syndrome

2007-11-20T10:02:00.000-08:00

Hello All,

Wow, where the hell did she come from? Taryn must have been smoking hash in the caves of Afghanistan with Osama for a hot minute now. Alas, she’s back with a vengeance. Remember, she’s the one that brought uhhhh....Material Issue to us. Didn’t you also bring Kill Hannah? Whatever. What sucks about Taryn is that no matter how cool and obscure I think my music taste is, she comes out of nowhere with some bands that would have never landed in my net. So, not only am I thankful I’m also inferior. Fuck guys, have you seen her hair? Sassier than a motherfucker...

Either way, thanks Taryn. Here’s what she had to say......

Hey. I want to amend what I wrote earlier...use this below. (It's late, and I decided that they're not as uplifting and feel-good as I imagined.)

So...The Deadly Syndrome...they've got this weird, quirky sound that can be many things - quiet, somber, eerie, and they can rock. They're local, and playing with a few other bands at the Christmas Sweater Festival on Dec 14th...which is kind of brilliant - I love a festive sweater party.

Enjoy,

Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/74bcqaovou

First Time Listening to M. Ward

2007-11-08T20:27:00.000-08:00

Hello All,

So people send me stuff and I give them their fair amount of attention. I put on my headphones, look up the lyrics, ignore all things work-related and just analyze away. Someone sent me a few songs from M. Ward. Here’s what he had to say:

"it's very simple, if you don't like this guy, i'm never sharing any
music with you ever again because i obviously have no idea what you
like."

I don’t mind sharing my feedback because this person isn’t on the list......but if you think I might be a little brash, here’s what I told him:
---------------------------------------------------------

Dude, I always enjoy people's recommendations. Here's what I think:

Big Boat - sounds like I'm in Dixieland. Like on a paddleboat in the Mississippi with a parasol twirling above my head and people dressed in TGIFridays uniforms running about.

Deep Dark Well - sounds like Norm MacDonald sitting at the end of the bar, drinking scotch to cope with his professional shortcomings, as Andy Samberg's Hot Rod trailer blares on the TV above him, out of the corner of his eye.

Radio Campaign - remember those little Fisher Price push toys that you had when you were a kid? The ones where you would push it like a lawnmower, and these little colorful balls would pop and burst in this clear, plastic dome? I would imagine this is what this song is about his childhood. I like how at the 2:16 mark where he escalates his voice, Mariah Carey style, just to drill it home.

You Still Believe In Me – what kind of title is this? It’s only instrumental; and still I don’t feel this really depicts that feeling of “still believe in me.” it might seem to be more like “welcome to Rainforest Café, how many people are on your safari?” This is the kind of music you hear when you see those nature programs of a snake sidewinding its way down a sand dune in the middle of the Sahara. Either that or like, it’s the score of some low budget, South American porn where you can barely hear faint whispers of “aye papi.”

Hi-Fi – I appreciate that little Colin Hay in this, but that part where says “hi fi” and “my mind” it reminds of Mariah Carey hitting the high note in “emotions.” I’ve mentioned her twice already and even Mariah Carey reminding me of Mariah Carey is too much for me to handle. I enjoy this melody, I’ll give it a 3-star rating and see where it lands next time I hear it.

One Life Away – I like this one a lot! You know I like the dark, chamberlike, hollow sound. I really like this song. I can’t wait to hear it while I’m high on a rainy afternoon; it’ll take on a whole different form. I really like this one. I’ll send it out on my music email today.

Thanks man, keep sending away and I’ll keep jabbing (or jibbing) away.

"The Ghost of Genova Heights" - The Stars

2007-11-04T19:31:00.000-08:00

(Written at 1:06 PM, on November 11, 2007)

Crimson eyes
Cloudy recall
Perfectly clear evening
It’s noon thirty
Enough alcohol in my body to sterilize the surgical tools of a hospital
What the fuck am I to do?
Throw up?
Done that
In the bathtub
While I was taking a bath

Room service?
Mozzarella and tomato panini on its way
What else?
I took those silly looking herbal pills in the convenience store downstairs.
I hope they aren’t penis enlargement pills
(or do I)

I should eat some bread to soak up all this liquor.
Screw that
I’m eating a towel.

I’m so refined and cultured.
I think Vegas is a very tacky city.
A false reality, no doubt.

Know what’s lame about advertising?
Phrases like, “putting out a fire” (thanks for that one Andrew)
Seriously, is that what I’m doing?
Running up flights of stairs
And like carrying a hose and stuff?
Or like, looking like the BONE Thugs and Harmony music video for, “Tha Crossroads?"

There’s a fire alright.
The title of my blog is
INTERNAL MIND INFERNO

I was going to name it Soul On Ice

But culture doesn’t stand a chance against the 800 lb gorilla of this city.
I love the campaign for Las Vegas. One of the best campaigns ever.
It piles on the pressure for people to leave the city with outrageous stories
Even I succumbed to it.
I’m so unrefined and oblivious.

As of late, wisdom has come to me in the form of coffee shop conversations
Surfboard conversations
Go is one deep motherfucker and one of the best commanders of English dialogue
Ladies, pay attention to him
(Go, that doesn’t mean you can cock block me)
Good thing you have much higher standards than me
I won’t just fuck anything that walks

I’d do a paraplegic
Watch Murderball, satisfaction guaranteed

However, today
Wisdom paid a visit to me.

In the form of a panini sandwich
Served by the name of Jorge
...an 800 lb gorilla

(was that a good ending? Should I have cut it off sooner?)

Since I’m hungover and lacking in tact right now, I’m just going to out on a limb and say this,

I am so grateful that you guys enjoy my writing.

I’m going to take it one step further and drop another gem on you.

Keeping a journal is not for the sake of expressing your innermost thoughts.

It’s for the possibility of someone discovering them.

Now, to my panini.

-- Sonnyred

“Wow, he’s really lost it.”
“At least he just made up for that penis enlargement pill comment”
“He just really took me on that mental journey.”
“Dude, this piece of shit is programming my thoughts”

http://www.box.net/shared/iilrifiemv

"The Last Trick" - Anja Garbarek

2007-10-31T01:56:00.000-07:00

Hello Everyone,

So it seems to be a trend that while I’m out of town that I won’t come out with a song until the end of a night or at least until after all the hooplas are done with. Tonight’s hoopla happened just a few minutes ago. I was hanging out with a friend who happened to have 3 hotel keys. After a few minutes I realized that she left her keys in my room so I called her to pick them up. I thought I was being nice because ordinarily I would just leave them straggling underneath my door while I’m whatevering. However, I decided to go meet her with all 3 keys at the elevator. I forgot my own hotel key. So I just ended up taking a 15 minute nap on the bench, in the lobby of the MGM Grand, waiting for security while I’m in a wifebeater, barefoot. I’m such a dumb fuck.

But alas, now I’m in my room and I have some free time to douse on some Clear Eyes and have a glass of some premium bottled water (CVS Natural spring water....maybe straight from the sewage treatment plants of El Porto). I sent out a track from this album before and yes, it’s the tried and true covers of Nouvelle Vague. This time they brought guests and I think this is their best album, yet. This will be the last song I send out from their album because I strongly encourage everyone to buy it (if you liked the other track). I label this as “chill” because I really enjoy them more for the mood than the genre. I would pair this album with a nice Vodka Martini (I call this genre “martini music”).

But this song really stood out for me. Just the melody and delivery is guaranteed, 30 minutes or less. Listen to this song when you feel like you’re stuck in a rut, or getting yourself into the same ol’ cyclic mess with your ex lover, or if you foresee yourself to be doomed to repeat the mistakes from your past. Or you can listen to this song when you allow him/her back into your life and then are like, “fuck it. What am I doing? Why?”

Geographically relevant. Nothing more. So, like I say to other people (and I need to heed my own advice sometimes). Like, let’s say there are 5 billion women out there in the world. Out of the 5 billion people, let’s say you have 2.5 billion that are actually possible mates (take out the children and old women and women that can’t stand listening to hip hop). Out of the 2.5 billion in the world, let’s say you have about a few thousand that you will meet in the course of your lifetime. So let’s say that right now, you’ve met a few hundred women that you would have loved to court. And out of the few hundred women, there were only a few dozen that you actually pursued and established something with. So let’s say out of them, you really only fall in love with a handful (or two handfuls, or if you’re tree sap, two handfuls and a foot) of them, you think they’re “the one.” So now, take a step back and see that out of the 2.5 billion potential mates, you really are stuck on that “soulmate.” Isn’t it convenient to think that out of 2.5 billion potential partners, you happened to live within a few miles/in the same job/in the same bar/happens to be friends with your friend/or whatever? Isn’t that nuts? It baffles me sometimes. To think that people exhaust their heart and efforts into a few women that are “the one.” Yes, plenty o’ fish get away but whoopty woo.

So, you mean to tell me, you met him, in college/work/Nebraska and that’s it for you? Cool, senorita.

But for those that are stuck in dead ends, hopefully this song will help you commit to your own rationale. And, if you can truly convince yourself of it, you’ll be fishing with dynamite.

Kaplooey.

-- Sonnyred

THE LAST TRICK

From standing to crouching
Silently falling
Falling from nowhere to nowhere
Nothing between
Nothing beyond
Nothing behind the stars

This is the last trick I'll do
Sound can be seen
This is the main title
Briefly shaking

This is the last trick I'll do
Sound can be seen
This is the main title
Briefly shaking

Remain for some time
Down here below
Allowing the doubt
to feed upon me
And even the ones
Who've never been
Are climbing the wail up ahead

I get up start crawling
Into the same
Over and over and over again
Smelling the plastic
Smelling the spit
And smelling my own breath

This is the last trick I'll do
Sound can be seen
This is the main title
Briefly shaking

This is the last trick I'll do
Sound can be seen
This is the main title
Briefly shaking

The presence convincing
The most of what I've
written is false
I mention this
[ Lyrics provided by www.mp3lyrics.org ]
'Cause I'm talking in
the light of what's
known
I get out of the sun

This is the last trick I'll do
Sound can be seen
This is the main title
Briefly shaking

This is the last trick I'll do
Sound can be seen
This is the main title
Briefly shaking

This is the last trick I'll do
Sound can be seen
This is the main title
Briefly shaking

This is the last trick I'll do
Sound can be seen
This is the main title
Briefly shaking

This is the last trick I'll do
Sound can be seen
This is the main title
Briefly shaking

All together now
Everybody

"So Sorry" - Feist

2007-10-24T22:20:00.000-07:00

Hello All,

I just have to call this out. First, I don’t seek out new music on my own, I find people whose taste in music I respect, then I sniff their butts and follow them down melody trails. Sometimes they’re just moldy passageways and they’re filled with poop. Other times they’re faulty rope bridges, only suspended by my taking someone’s word for it. But of course, there are times where their suggestions pave golden brick roads and I just want to carry a basket full of apples and skip to their loo.

Today is an example of it. I think Roy gives me 95% of my music, of which I’m very thankful for. But it’s really the “hey yo Roe....dude, I’ve been really feeling that new Avril Lavigne” or “hey yo Roe, that new Gwen is off the chain! I want to go buy a Le Sportsac purse, throw punches in the air and wear 80s hooker red lipstick.” It’s the recommendations that I really enjoy the most. Don’t just give me a donkey and a tail for me to pin it on; spin me around and push me in a certain direction.

But when you do, be prepared for the onslaught. Eventually the blindfold will come off and we’ll see if I hit it. I love being recommended stuff but I really only like 5-10% of the music that gets sent to me. And though Roy currently has the homerun record, he also probably has the worst batting average, but it shouldn’t deter him or anyone from swinging. Why do I ask people to do write ups for me if I choose their songs? Because it’s their baby, it’s their initial contact with the music. I want to know, and I want everyone else to know, why you like it. See...I can’t take credit for it. Also, I think it’s a good exercise for people to tap into their cerebral and actually try to access their thoughts.

It’s not easy, I know. But, is it really that FUCKING hard? All I’m asking is, “why do you like it?”

“I just do.”

It baffles me to think that people have become that disconnected from their feelings or emotions and stuff. I think there’s a much bigger tragedy that's taking place but what I’m really trying to say is, if you’re going to stand for something, be ready to defend it; whether it be with rationale, logic or that good ol’ feeling in the pit of your stomach. Or maybe that’s what alienates me. My opinions are seldom accurate, but they’re mine, tried and true. And so that’s why I suggest suggestions.

Feist came to my existence after Roy hooked me up. I thought they were a little too soft; like Sia (I sent her before, but now I realize I can’t stand the whore). Then I thought to myself, “I like Dido, why should a hothead like me grant more real estate to another “chill kind of musician?” Feist is not that special. One year later, and she’s invited to my head space BBQs and holding my brain babies and all of that jazz.

What I’m saying is, examine your mind, exercise your heart and tell me why the fuck I should listen to something. Do it with enough conviction, and you’ll have the attention of everyone on this list.

Now, gimme some donkey ass.

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/0qyzrk1sp7\

"Empty" - 3582

2007-10-24T22:15:00.000-07:00

How can I say this without sounding like a gay license plate frame?

“Always late, but worth the wait.”

You know what? Everytime I see that shit on a car it just pisses me the fuck off. For real, you know what I do? I tailgate them and make them go like 10-15 mph faster than they were normally traveling. Be careful what you ask for, bitches. My parents told me that I was an accident and that they were going to get an abortion. Well...my mom’s period came 9 months late. And when I have enough money to buy her a car, I’m also going to get her a license plate frame. It’s going to say, “Fuck the police.” Uh, wha whaaa whaaat?

Well, it took me a while to get to this group and really start to pay attention to them. Roy Van Winkle must have been sleeping because he just recently gave me this album. I was about to text him, “Roy, you’re the homie for hooking me up with this new 3582 shit! It’s smart, soulful, artful hip hop.” For real, today’s song reminds me of how forgiving and somber hip hop can be. Not in that woe is me sense either. It takes me back to a time when you can be vulnerable and still be a man. That’

I was also like, “Who is J. Rawls?” I know “The Essence” album but he never really got much acclaim. I Wikipedia’d this shit and turns out this album is 6 years old! 3582 is a collaboration of J Rawls and Fat Jon. (next time you see me, ask me what the biggest lesson is that rock can learn from hip hop and how hip hop is eons more evolved and refined than rock). Basically, J Rawls and J Sands are a team and they make Caucasian-friendly hip hop without alienating Black folks.

That’s what I love about being Asian. I can listen to Caucasian hip hop, like Sage Francis or Atmosphere or Murs or Pigeon John (though LA Symphony is Mexican Hip Hop) and I’d be seen as artful and abstract. And at the same time, I can listen to Boot Camp Click, Big L or The Beatnuts and be seen as street or urban. You know what I hate about that term, “urban?” It’s a polite way to say “inner city Blacks.” Just say it, fucking marketers.

Mother. Fucking. Marketers.

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/hbgd94iseh

Oh yeah, and if you’re like, “Well, Roe, you’re neither White nor Black; and all you got on hip hop is that Gin guy or Key Kool or the Mountain Brothers” all I’ll have to do is point towards the booth and be like, “Who the fuck do you think is spinning this shit?”

TOFU ON THE ONES AND TWOS! Chicky chicky.

"Tiger In My Tank" - The Eels

2007-10-21T23:39:00.000-07:00

“The devil believes in you.” So that’s my AIM status this evening and I think I’m going to leave it up there for a while to see what kind of reactions I’ll get. Ok, just so we’re on the same page:

Ok, get it? Great! Well, I think the status is very stark in comparison to my self-portrait, aim icon. And so, let me look, wow….as edgy as I think I already am, I think maybe, perhaps I’m “taking it to another level” or I’m being “just plain tasteless” or “damn, that motherfucker needs attention” but I really don’t think much of it. I know it will certainly offend people. I know there are a bunch of bible thumpers on my buddy list alone (and I know who the closet ones are…don’t be ashamed….you don’t need to blast P.O.D. in the privacy of your own headphones). But I think I’m going to do it just to make people feel uncomfortable and disrupt their day a little. But, wait, you mean to tell me that "Believe in me or you're going to hell" isn't razor sharp?

You know what I wished? I wished I could call my writing, art. That way I can get away with doing a lot of weird, random shit that I currently have to suppress. Like, it’d be fine if I were to go days without showering...or like when I did it’d always have to be in a bubble bath with a frozen Cornish game hen. Or maybe I could like, walk around the city with an upside down jar of mayonnaise on my head. See, like that’s pretty weird. But you see, if I was an artist, it’d at least be interesting or compelling. You know, I once read an article about an artist who had put out a coffee table book of his photography. Well, in the book was just pictures of him, in bed, with naked women that he met after putting out an ad in the newspaper. I wish I would’ve thought of that sweet deal. That way I wouldn’t have to worry about hurrying up and finding women before my condoms expire.

(Maybe self-deprecating humor will help me, also)

You know what’s kinda weird, but kinda goofy also? (predictable for me to say “besides…me”….however…unpredictable for me to still call it out)…people that collect matchbooks. Like, I think it’s cool, and fuck, I always think to myself, “it’d be cool if I collected matchbooks from cool clubs, luscious hotels, and nice restaurants. Yeah, maybe I should..” and you go through the motions……“but yeah, like it’s also cool because it’s free and you can’t just buy them...” and you further convince yourself that your knowledge of which bars have the coolest matches (wooden, strike on the back, funny quote, interesting packaging) will somehow put a significant dent on the world…you still don’t do it. And so one day, you go over to your friend’s house and then you see that, near the keys, there’s a little glass jar of different matches from exotic restaurants in exotic locales. How cool suddenly becomes how goofy. You think to yourself, “fuck…good thing I didn’t waste my time holding onto those matches…because that shit is CRAAAAZY!”

And somewhere between then and a few paces forward you soon think, “at least he/she had the balls to do it.”

That’s what I’m talking about.

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/m90i4xu91v

"Magic Beans and Truth Machines" - Say Hi (to Your Mom)

2007-10-17T15:58:00.000-07:00

This morning I was awakened by my alarm clock at 6:30 AM. And this morning started with a cold splash of water on my face; just enough to erode the eye boogers and with enough conviction to keep me from going back to my lucid dreams of puppies, lollipops and the Swedish Bikini team. Pumped some gas this morning (damn, I need a hybrid) and took a little drive along the coast shortly after. The slumbering ocean kissed me with all of its slobbery might and after a few frustrated attempts for more, it led me to believe that was all I was going to get. I sat on the couch and watched all the action that everyone was getting, except me. But I wasn’t hating, I was out there and I was glad to at least hold her hand, and once in a while she let me tuck underneath her. An hour in and my hand got slapped away about 4 times, but damn me for being so persistent. The opportunities were passing and my mind summoned all of its defense mechanisms: at least I’m getting exercise, at least I get to see the sun rise, at least I’m out here and learning and pushing and philosophizing again, etc.......

Another friend joined us in the water, and within two minutes, he caught a great ride. I was looking at him as he boomeranged back; like, “are you fucking shitting me? Five minutes and you already got one? I fucking hate you.” Yes I exaggerated; I said five minutes though it was only two. If I have to bring him down to close the gap of happiness between us, I’ll do it. I’ll force him down into the ocean basins where stingrays and treasure chests dwell. Like I said, I’m a hater. I swore I was done for. As I was calling it a day, she came by, slapped my butt and gave me the green light to traverse down her right shoulder (that’s right, her RIGHT shoulder). I kissed her clavicle. And though she went off to go fuck the rest of the guys in the lineup, at least I kissed her. My lips haven’t stopped trembling since.

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/cnzxo05b2b

"Resurrection Fern" - Iron and Wine

2007-10-15T15:03:00.000-07:00

Hello All,

Great things happened to me over the weekend. On Friday night, I almost bunny hopped a trail of blood while riding my bike on the Venice Boardwalk due to a stabbing. Don’t worry, it wasn’t too bad; the guy got stabbed on the arm and it just further perpetuated Venice into being one of the coolest, most interesting cities in the country. I think that’s what they say about the city, “Where art meets crime.” And if it takes a minor laceration to slow down the gentrification and yuppification of the city for at least a little longer; then so fucking be it.

That wasn’t the great thing about it, though. Towards the end of the night, the rain started coming down hard and persistent; and Go and I were left with no other choice than to ride our bikes back under the guise of night as Mother Nature’s tears went trickling down our temples. And so we rode, through the puddles of black ink on the boardwalk, the humming of slippery tires on Venice Blvd and our safety at stake as the headlights of imported cars offered us nothing more that the moon already did. However, when it rained we weren’t in a hurry to take cover, (after all, our journey back would surely end with heavy denim and wet carpet) so we took our time and conversed....

Me: Never have I thought, that at the age of 28, that I would be riding my bike back home in the pouring rain. To think that all of my life’s struggles and accomplishments...and the millions of events that have taken place and all the forces of the universe interacting for the past 28 years....to bring me here, riding my bicycle back home, in the pouring rain, inebriated, and not giving a shit. How crazy is that? To think that I denied myself this soulful experience my entire life and now I’m in a moment of clarity and it’s here and that’s that. You know, Heidi got two tickets when we met for coffee last week and though it was a careless mistake she wrapped the context of our earlier conversation around the situation and told me, “fuck it, you can’t let stupid stuff like that ruin you.” I always thought to myself, in the best and absolute worst of times, “No matter how bad or good or great life gets, I’m always like, ‘shit, I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.’” True indeed, life is always one wild ride.

And though unbalanced pedals across a midnight canvas would suggest another careless mistake was in progress, I wasn’t fazed. The rainwater left no remnants of the infant night’s tussles and through the distorted spheres of Mother Nature’s cries, I did manage to get my bunny hop.

And what a wild ride it was.

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/pdh9j6ajkf

"Don't Beat This Dog" - Alamo Race Track

2007-10-02T21:30:00.000-07:00

Hello All,

So this is the band that I’ve been listening to, A LOT, lately. I really don’t know much about them other than my assumption that they’re from Texas. You see, I rarely seek out new music. I depend on people, like (few) of you, to come and shower me with precious melodies. Most of the time they’re golden, but (thankfully) not golden showers. This is one of those songs that will make your car ride automatically that much cooler. And I’ll be honest, I think people with a refined taste for non-commercial music are way more interesting and appealing than the sheeple that depend on mainstream music. God, ok, fuck, I want to be tactful and non-judgmental and all loving and encompassing, but like I’m no Noah. I admit it; I do make assumptions on someone when I hear what they’re playing. I never take “innocent looks” through people’s iPods. I do psychoanalytic anal-listic analyses on their psyche based on their Kelly Clarkson playcounts. Just kidding. I don’t judge people based off of their iPod libraries; I write them off:

“Cool man. No brah, I like Foo Fighters, too. Dave is a talented musician. They rawk!”
“Oh no, I’ve never heard of that band. Are they good? Oh, cool man. They sound like The Killers? Kewl.”

And that’s where I imagine myself cutting off their ears and donating them to science. But I never lie about my feelings (hear that ladies??? never).

“Oh that’s cool. I used to like Foo Fighters but I’m not 17 anymore and my teenage angst has maturated into a big life failure. And as talented a musician as he is, he’s no Kurt Cobain.”
“Oh no, I’ve never heard of that band. Are they good? Oh, cool man. Do they sound like Interpol or The Killers? What do you mean? Of course there’s a difference.”

But what I was getting at is that Alamo Race Track is one of those bands that makes you so much cooler when you drive around with them blaring out your speakers. I’d rather be seen in my old, beat-up truck playing this song than be in a new, never-been-in-a-fight truck playing Fallout Boy. I mean, If I were to see someone in a brand new Lamborghini pull up next to me playing The Killers, I swear I’d laugh so hard I’d oatmeal my pantaloons.

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/n8q4k6g29v

Keep these walls from moving
We should get on just fine
Turn off the lights
I’ve got to get myself together

Don’t be my savior
Keep this girl away from me
There’s something changing
I should get out of here

Love me, leave me, stop
Cut off your hoola dance
Don’t beat this dog
I’ve got to get ahead of time

I’ll take you on, this act is wearing me out
I’ll take you on, your spell is fading out
I’ll take you on, this act is wearing me out
I’ll take you on, your spell is fading out

I’m climbing fences
Try to break this blind man’s wall
The sky is trembling
I’ve got to change my ways for now
Got to get myself together

I’ll take you on, this act is wearing me out
I’ll take you on, your spell is fading out
I’ll take you on, this act is wearing me out
I’ll take you on, your spell is fading out

"Fool" - Cat Power

2007-09-28T12:19:00.000-07:00

Hello All,

I’m sending out probably one of the deepest Cat Power songs in my opinion. I think it’s just about the citizens of our country and how we are so disconnected with the rest of the world. Or maybe it’s about how we’ve abandoned everything that truly matters in life in hopes of material pursuits.

This whole “bigger picture” idea really just disturbs me as a person and my outlook on mankind (or modern mankind, at least). Like, we all question ourselves at one point or another and say, “Fuck..is all this really worth it? What is this doing, really, for mankind?” And we see older folks and when they look back at their lives they remember only their friends and their passions. When they look towards their death, they would rather be in the company of those things.

You know what? I don’t care if I’m not speaking all prose-worthy right now; I’m working on all these crazy production calendars and it’s making me go crazy. Raleigh stopped by to see if I wanted to paddle out during lunch and he saw 5 calendars on my desk. He saw my NASCAR calendar on my wall and he saw my calendar on my computer screen. Now he must think I’m a calendar fiend. Like it’s a cracklendar more than anything else. Like I’ll go upstairs and rob Bon Appetit so I can by some mo’ calendars. Fuck it, Raleigh, you caught me, I can’t get enough. Kinda reminds me of this girl I know that has a sweet ass Rolex. I told her, “Why the hell do you have a Rolex when you’re always late? Motherfucker, if you rebuilt Stonehenge on your front lawn you’d still be late.” Maybe I can jack her for her watch and buy some calendars.

Well, crap (I’m retracing my steps). Yeah, well, what I’m saying is we all know that when we die, none of this matters. Can you really be passionate about a Prada bag? Like, I’m sure you can lust for it. But can you be passionate about it? Ok, another train of thought. Ok, uhh...lust is like fine but it’s so primal, so animalistic, “I like it. I want it.” But passion, passion is the intellectualization of lust. Human thought and all these emotionally, internalizing factors are what perpetuates lust to passion...like music. What I’m saying is that we are all trying to keep up with the Jones’s, but who are the Jones’s trying to keep up with? I can look at my life right now and tell you I want all this stuff (a cotton candy machine, a frog named Bertha, Tito’s Tacos) but even right now I can fast forward into my life and know that none of my wants and desires from childhood through adulthood will matter when I’m old. When the baby becomes the person, and in the later stages in life when the person becomes the baby again (and all the wisdom obtained in between); I won’t want anything different from what I wanted as a baby: people to love me, feed me, and change my diaper. Oh yeah, a succulent breast would be nice, too. It’s just this...damn...human intelligence..thing. It’s making us. So. Fucking. Stupid.

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/9r5dt4zhc5

FOOL

Apartment in New York, London and Paris
Where will we rest, we're all living on top of it
It's all that we have the USA is our daily bread
And no one is willing to share it

Why can't we see our fortunancy
Living as legends have lived.
Bane and dismannered
We coax all the time
Knowing that nothing is left when we die

Come along Fool
A direct hit of the senses you are disconnected
It's not that it's bad. it's not that it's death
It's just on the tip of your tongue, and you're so silent

Wanting to live and laugh all the time
Sitting alone with your tea and your crime
Children with kids, and people with parents
Any which way there’s no past and no presence
When the day comes and all of them bums
Will reveal enchanting persons
Come along...

When it's a rut and baby's no luck
Half of it's misunderstanding love
The war we have won we're winning again
Within ourselves and within our friends
Come along...

"Introduction" - Voxtrot

2007-09-28T11:48:00.000-07:00

This was kinda weird, I listen to a lot of hip hop...like a lot of hip hop. Like if I was a killer whale from Brooklyn I’d eat like 200 CDs a day as if they were sardines. I’d jump through a ring of fire for a Wu Tang CD. Did you know that “dork” means whale penis? So next time you call someone a big ol’ dork, you might be exaggerating at least a little bit. Whale penises are already quite beefy, so calling someone a big dork makes it even more grandiose. I would imagine that it’d be so big that even a laser pointer wouldn’t be able to reach the end of it. Ok, I might be exaggerating (at least a little bit).

I would think that it would be like those 200 pipe organs in those dusty cathedrals of Eastern Europe. Only that the pipes would be all put together; the way children put plastic straws together when they drink their sodas at McDonald's. You know, cup on the table, feet on the seat, tippy toe if you must. Only difference being that the yellow and red stripes would have to line up and that children probably don’t think about how their straws resemble disassembled pipes that would accurately measure the length of whale penises.

I wish I had influence on the scientific community. I would urge them to change the plural form of penis to peni (like stimuli) and stimulus to stimuluses (like penises). Stimuluses kind of sounds like the name of an circus elephant, doesn’t it? Now now, I’m not going to go into talking about elephant penusulufaguses. But, I may talk about peanuts. PEANUTS! Ok, Richard Simmons style now.

Well, as I was saying with hip hop CDs is that like 85% (ok Russell Simmons style) of hip hop CDs have an intro track. So when I heard this I was about to just delete it. And then I heard this guy’s voice come on and I started to witness the build up. Terry, tell me the guitar in the beginning doesn’t remind you of “Like Eating Glass” by Bloc Party. Well, ok...so it doesn’t. But you’ll be damned if you don’t think it’s reminiscent.

There’s this lady here at work, a facility lady, that sorta reminds me of my mom. Which is super funny because she doesn’t look anything like her but does kind of look like her. So you know, I always treat her nice and smile at her every morning...she must think I’m into her. Ok, she doesn’t really look like my mom. But dude, if there was a lightning storm and the power went out, first person I’d run to hug would be her. That’s all I’m saying.

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/y3x0fif56b

INTRODUCTION

Open your eyes and stretch your hands
This house is clean but it is not my home
Did I make this bed
The two hands touch on two

Sometimes I think of some place colder
The sound of traffic and the way it's worn
When you feel yourself grow up inside of here

And you love me just like a stranger
But you love me just like I am

Remember we ran through lovely streets
We made our rules and then we broke them first
It felt like we were running all the time
When I wouldn't give one ugly moment
I'd wrap it up, I'd keep it in my sock
I can keep it, yeah, I know what's yours is mine

And you love me just like a stranger
But you love me when

I stand to the sea, lets me love some other day
We get bored of weakness all the time
Now I won't know how much I lost until I've gone away
Your sun sets when my sun starts to shine

"This Is the End" - Straylight Run

2007-09-28T11:41:00.000-07:00

Hello All,

I’ve been all MAL’d out lately...still at work right now. For all you non advertising folks, MAL is Media Arts Lab and they handle all the Apple stuff and they work harder than the Jamaican family in In Living Color. (that’s right Spellcheck, you fucking bitch always calling me out for messing up and misspelling and typoing). I hate it, I just said “in” twice and didn’t get shit.

Crap, I’m starting to lose you guys. Ok, well, first of all, I’m real thankful for having Roy as a friend, he hooked me up with a free ticket to see Straylight Run perform at Hotel Café last Thursday. I had to pay for parking and that wasn’t worth my hourly rate..so the show was still whatever. I’m still whatever with the band. But I did manage to smile when I heard today’s song.

I’ll tell you about Straylight Run. The guy....has to go. The girl, she’s insanely pretty so she gets to stay here and rock my world (yes, I’ve been referring to Rock of Love a lot lately, I just really want to wear leather pants (in public) and drink some Bret Brew (sometimes, in public)). Something about girls baring their shoulders just..just makes me want to bear their shoulders. I’m emery boarding my claws right now. For real, no joke.

Well, I’ll tell you what’s missing with them. They looked BORED on stage. Ok, so here’s the deal, just because it’s acoustic and gut wrenching, it really just is frosting on the cake. I mean, you can get a pile of dog poop and make it look like a wedding cake, but I’ll tell you....something’s stinky about it. Wow, two puns in two paragraphs. I think I want to change my name to Ostrich. And if you think they’re that dope because they’re that emotional and what not, but compare them to Iron and Wine. Cake anyone?

Oh yeah, here’s a pic of the Cat Power concert. Angela called me out, saying that I didn’t enjoy the show as much and that I was let down. I was, she’s my favorite artist, after all. I was just hoping to hear some classics. If anyone’s interested in a Cat Power compilation, let me know and I’ll post it onto my blog (I can resend the link if no one has it) and you guys can download it and fall in love with her madness and be an emotional wreck like me.

I was telling Zac earlier this evening, that my list is very self exploitive. I can’t help it. I feel these feelings when I hear music. I think these thoughts when I hear something powerful and often times it leaves me feeling empty and I get scared that all these thoughts will just go to waste if I don’t convey them. So therefore, I put myself out there all the time, my soul walks on that emotional limb and my heart exploits itself. It wears pasties on its valves and 6 inch heels on its ventricles and shakes its booty for you all to marvel at.

But I’m telling you. It’s got big plans, this heart of mine. It’s just trying to pay tuition, that’s all.

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/dojy135n26

THIS IS THE END

I'm gonna hide out all night,
Close my curtain, and dim my light.
I'm gonna lay here alone,
Close my eyes, and wish for home.

The last time that I saw you,
This is the end of, this is the end of
The last time that I saw you,
This is the end of, this is the end.

Your face is surrounding me,
It's the only face I wanna see.
For now, we're safe on the ground,
We've got these words, these songs, these sounds.

The last time that I saw you,
This is the end of, this is the end of.
The last time that I saw you,
This is the end of, this is the end.

Ooh, ooh...

Last time that I saw you,
This is the end of, this is the end of.
Last time that I saw you (I'm gonna hide out all night)
This is the end of, this is the end of (Close my curtains, dim my lights.)
Last time that I saw you, (I'm gonna lay here alone)
This is the end of, this is the end (Close my eyes, and wish for home)

Ooh, ooh...

"Jam On It" - Whodini

2007-09-24T20:38:00.000-07:00

Hello All,

Hope you all had a good weekend. Please join me in welcoming Zac to our group (is that how you spell it). You guys have no idea how my eyes light up when I find out someone’s into hip hop.

Well, I haven’t really heard anything worth sending in a while. Don’t get me wrong, there’s a lot of good shit coming out, but really, it’s just me wanting to think it’s funkdonkalous when it’s really just funkdoobiest.

It seems, to me, that all this underground shit is mad oversaturated. When I dig deep, I want to uncover an amazing vernal pool of sorts. That’s underground. But I’m digging and all I find is really just raging waters, high in volume but also high in dookie. It seems like underground either tries too hard to dial up: (anti)war, consciousness, or just that live band sound.

I really don’t think there’s a formula to it but people think that if they were to mimic other people, they’ll falter. Or they’ll do fine and then eventually people will call their bluff and they’ll lose credibility. For real, we know the war in Iraq sucks. We know it’s Bush’s fault. But if you can’t fucking flip it to the point where it’s something fresh and new then I’m really not trying to hear you. It’s like someone coming up with the law of gravity and then Newton’s homie saying, “For real, dough.” Same applies to those acts that try to emulate the Roots too much.

You know what I say? I say come up with your own, organically grown sound and let the rest decide. Don’t just be like, “Yo. That Wu Tang shit is dope, I’m going to buy a fucking encyclopedia set and like learn about phylums and classes and chemistry and just rhyme them like a 7 layer burrito rhyme.” Just do your thing and let yourself get influenced; but do your own thing.

Last night, I was thinking of listening to some classical/baroque music (just thinking, not doing, because I want to hear that shit on vinyl..soft crackling sound and all) and I thought to myself what I am now starting to think about hip hop music. Beethoven, Mozart, Chopin and all them cats are the best and will always be heralded as the greatest. There WILL be another Michael Jordan, but there will never be another Beethoven. But that’s is NOT to say that good classical music hasn’t been done since then. It has.

And fuck me, I really thought that good hip hop music transcended culture and eras and phases. Like, shit’s crazy insane now, the tools and resources are infinite. White folks from Minnesota and Rhode Island are tearing it up, DJs have Serrato, producers have all these technological advancements, but the music is WELL DONE. I am starting to think that HIP HOP isn’t timeless. I really want to organize my thoughts and commit them by writing them out, but I’m still trying to deny the death of a culture that is still very much alive to me. It’s like being with a girlfriend that you love, but then she just lets herself go, doesn’t do her make up and then takes shits with the door open. I just want to talk to Kweli, Mos Def, Common, the entire WEST COAST, Outkast, them Saukrates/Choclair/K-OS cats from up north and be like,

“For real, I know you’re just going to the grocery store, but change out of your fucking pajamas. Make yourself presentable.” (For added effect, you can end that last sentence with “stank ass bitch.”)

I want that shit RAW, seared at most. This is an example of what HIP HOP should be. You hear it and you get a visceral, emotional response, you know what I’m saying? I heard this song when I was like 7-8 years old so all I can remember is trying to breakdance with the cholos in my neighborhood when I was a kid.

How about you guys? This is a monumental song. Let us know if anything comes to mind.

Peace,

Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/mx2yt84lrs

"For the Widows in Paradise, for the Fatherless in Ypsilanti" - Sufjan Stevens

2007-09-21T13:25:00.000-07:00

Hello All,

I swear, I’m not religious. I’m religious in the way most Californians are; we’re not religious, we’re spiritual. Ok, I’m not going to offend anyone but I’ll just go on record to say that I’m struggling between being agnostic and being atheist. It’s just, God, I hate a lot of the things religion does to people. I’m not quite sure if my use of God was a figure of speech or if it was me addressing him. But I do know one thing, I love a lot of the songs that are inspired by religion. Not P.O.D. bullshit but stuff like Sufjan, Iron and Wine, Cat Power, etc.

With this song I just feel it might have been a little too overt; it seems like he’s talking as if he was God. But I’m going to make this leap and apply the whole, 5% notion of Islamic thought that you are the ruler and controller of your own destiny and interpret it that way. So when I do hear this song, it kind of makes me feel like the soul is talking to the cavity because they are not in sync with each other. Maybe it’s an empty chair at your birthday party, maybe it’s being passed up on for a job. It can be one of those beach-magnetism moments I always talk about. The tumultuous instability that comes after the end of a relationship, perhaps? I don’t know.

I see this song scoring those moments in life. Moments where you’ve done what you were supposed to do — get the job, succeed, get the girl, multiply, get the house,mow the lawn, etc. but the feeling of defeat overshadows the accomplishments. Those times, where, where the last viable option to validate yourself is to leave behind a legacy.

You know what I’m saying, just when you’re just at odds with yourself, and you’ve followed the recipe to a fucking T and you’re left eating nothing but “what the fucks.”

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/8kq6u92p36

FOR THE WIDOWS IN PARADISE, FOR THE FATHERLESS IN YPSILANTI

I've have called you children
I have called you son
What is there to answer
If I'm the only one
Morning comes in Paradise
Morning comes in light
Still I must obey
Still I must invite

If there's anything say
If there's anything to do
If there's any other way
I'd do anything for you

I was dressed in embarrassment
I was dressed in white
If you had a part of me
Will you take your time
Even if I come back
Even if I die
Is there some idea
To replace my life

Like a father to impress
Like a mother's morning dress
If we ever make a mess
I'll do anything for you

I have called you preacher
I have called you son
If you have a father
Or if you haven't one
I'll do anything for you
I'll do anything for you
I'll do anything for you
I'll do anything for you
I'll do anything for you

I did everything for you
I did everything for you
I did everything for you
I did everything for you
I did everything for you
I did everything for you
I did everything for you
I did everything for you
I did everything for you
I did everything for you
I did everything for you
I did everything for you
I did everything for you
I did everything for you

"Harbor Lights" - The Platters

2007-09-14T16:00:00.000-07:00

Hello All,

So although I have a young heart, I’ve always felt like I’ve had an old soul. I guess I can be the same person that can talk about spraying lemon juice in the eye of a baby grasshopper while wearing a red handkerchief. But I can just flip it all of a sudden and really get down to the meat and potatoes of philosophy, ethics and life. I really can! Ask Go or Andrew; we have the craziest conversations in the water. We talk about all kinds of shit! It can be about anything. Usually though, I notice a few reoccurring questions I pose to Go and company when I’m out in the water:

What beats this, Go? Seriously, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Central Park? Central Park???? I’m talking about Pacific Muthafucking Ocean.
Does it get better than this?
The water feels great, huh?
Did you see that dolphin/seal/giant butt of that girl in the wetsuit lying down on her stomach?
Are you going to go for this?
Which way are you going?
Did you see that ride?
Are you hungry?
So, how’s work?
I’m fine with my lingerie supermodel that only has one name, how are you doing with the ladies?
Would you ever go back to New York/Florida/Brazil/Virginia?
For real, what gets better than this?

Answering just one of those questions usually leads to a few hours of conversation of real deep, philosophical talk; only to be interrupted by breaking waves.

Only to be silenced by the paddling out of a girl surfer.

http://www.box.net/shared/ll15u0geyo

"Tripoli" - Pinback

2007-09-12T00:24:00.000-07:00

Dude, don’t scold me. It’s just an innocent conversation. It really took place, between friends and between moments of brilliance and flashes of frustrations...

--------

Someone: You know what I want in a girl?
Me: What?
Someone: I’ll tell you what I want.
Me: What is it that you want (all these unnecessary confirmations are there because we’re drunk and conversations get sluggish)?
Someone: This is how I measure a girl. If I could spend Sunday morning with her. You know, white sheets all fluffy and all. Well, I’d be doing my work on my computer in bed or whatever and she’s doing the crossword puzzle or reading a book or something.
Me: ...........
Someone: And in between, we’d just pause what we’re doing and make out.
Me: ...........
Someone: That’s how I measure girls. I think of whether or not I’d be able to be in bed with them, that Sunday morning.
Me: ............

--------

And you thought it was all about ass and tits.

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/i2lbag4o2y

Compilation - R&B, Neo Soul, and Music to Straight Up Fuck To

2007-08-31T13:30:00.000-07:00

Hey All,

So a few people have asked me to put together a little slow jam, neo soul, R&B compilation and so here it is. And of course I’m going to throw down some background info for each track and all that jazz. Well, growing up I was always down with gangsta rap and what not. Then I made some friends and they started getting into girls. Me, being all fat and shy and dorky and different, made it a lot more challenging for me to go around “knocking the keds” with girlies in the playground. Well, that frustrated the hell out of me....like, “hey man, why are you listening to this now? What? What is Boyz II Men? Why do they spell it like that.” Well, I was soon privy to the fact that they weren’t just developing crushes, they were actually doing stuff about it...like holding hands and crap. I remember wishing that we could just go back to playing football on the streets or riding our bikes around and not have me get left behind.

Well, I did. And for years I had to experience it vicariously, stuck as the platonic “brotherly” type while my friends were like rubbing girls’ crotches and feeling boobies and stuff. I had no choice but to listen to the slow jams but then I started to really enjoy the music. Soon enough, I swore to everyone within earshot, “I swear. When I get a girl I’m going to treat her like a queen, because women are royalty. I’ll open doors for them and I’ll talk to them on the phone for hours because I’m so fascinated with them.” So as you would imagine, I was super stoked when I finally landed my first kiss at the old, stale age of 15 (that’s crazy long, huh?). Well the girl ended up using me to get back at her boyfriend (she was 18) and she ate my heart up, El Nino style. With expectations and preconceived notions of what love was supposed to be, I built a monolith.

Then fast forward to 19, driving back from Vegas with Roy and he throws in this CD of an artist called Jazzyfatnastees. Exiting the 605, finding out that our good friend passed away the Friday of, winning the heart of a girl that I would date for a number of years on the Saturday, and getting introduced to what they would later call “Neo Soul” on that Sunday.

Looking back I think I actuall had it best, involuntarily delaying this emotional gratification for the sake of clarity. Now, they both have kids, are fat, lost their edge that made them so desirable in junior high and live in the suburbs. In comparison, I am now very grateful that my weekends are spent with amazing friends and attainable women. And sometimes, when the craigslist “erotic services” price is right, I actually get to feel boobies and stuff, too.

Well, here it is....a collector’s plate of failures and accomplishments, accompanied by an SUV of frustrations.

“Promise” - Jagged Edge
I chose this song because I feel that Jagged Edge were the last of the bonafide, R&B groups. At the time of their arrival, the industry was saturated with songs talking bout “Playa, you done cheated on me, now I’m going to max out your credit card on some Donna Karen.” This was the light at the end of the tunnel, to offer a glimmer of hope until Neo Soul came into my life...

“Breakthrough” - Jazzyfatnastees
....and just fuck it all up! Wow, I discover a genre of music that is reminded me of the glory days. I remember it clearly. Roy said, “This song kinda reminds me of En Vogue.” I rarely like something the first time I hear it; and when I do it’s not too long before it grows tired. I heard this song and I knew my schema of music was going to change forever. I swear if I were to ever get married I’d have them sing at my wedding. (check your inboxes if I ever do...evites, yo)

“I’m Still In Love with You” - New Edition
This is the Wu-Tang Clan of R&B. When they came back, I had no doubt that they would pull off a stunner like this. This song is great. Why can’t we talk about love anymore? When we do, it’s like in an aggressive way; fuck, can we still get our hearts pumping and exploding and still be men? God, you listen to this song and like it or not, someone will definitely come to mind. Listen to it now. Who is it? It’s weird, the heart. Because it really just pumps blood and wasn’t really anything until the Incans made it what it is. Well, you hear this song, and though you feel it in your head, but you also feel that shit in your heart. My friend Trung would always change the first few lines to go, “Your friends got you DRINKING and it’s affecting you.”

“Charlene” - Anthony Hamilton
Saddest song on the list. God, Anthony Hamilton just blew my mind when he first came on the scene. See how many times I’ve used “God?” Maybe that’s why it’s called Neo Soul. Because these songs are so laden with memories and stuff. God might not have been Black, but he must have had some killer sideburns.

“I Want to Be Your Man” - Zapp & Roger
This is the song you play when you’re getting ready for your second date. I mean date like hiking, not date like going to a bar and getting drunk in hopes that she’ll bone you. This is the song you play after a great first date and you’re trying to pump yourself up but at the same time not screw it all up because you actually really like this girl. By the way, a first date that ends in hope is a lot better than a first date that ends in intimacy.

“Even Closer” - Goapele
Baby making music. That’s it.

“Purple” - Crustation
Again. No comment here. Just another song to play for those instances where you are just trying to fornicate.

“Till You Do Me Right” - After 7
I really had to throw this in there. I think I dedicated this to the countless women that have cheated on me. And in turn, it’s been dedicated to me a few times also. Funny how you console a friend that just got out of a relationship; it’s always what the other person did wrong, huh?

“Slow Dance” - John Legend
John Legend is great. Can’t you just picture yourself dancing to this song? Socks sliding across the linoleum. Hips rocking in perfect unison; the way ducks’ butts sway with the moving tide.

“Just Friends” - Musiq Soulchild
This is just a great, smooth, playful song. I like this song because it’s just like, “whatever baby...let’s just have fun with each other.” He could put me in the seat of a used Chrysler LeBaron with bullet holes in the door and I’ll be like, “SOLD!”

“So Good” - Davina
Another baby making song. Including this one because Roy and I promoted her album..I think it was in conjunction with Chico DeBarge and Erykah Badu’s album release party at the Key Club? Es verdad? Either way, she never got big, at all; but she still remains relevant. Little Brother even refers to this song (big props to anyone that can figure it out).

“You’re Gonna Leave” - Stephen Marley
I picked this song because it shows the dark side of women also. Ever watch Casino? No matter how successful or smart or wise you are, a man’s greatest weakness is a confident women. Fucking nuts. A way to his man’s heart is through his stomach? Nah, it’s through his Achilles' heel. Trip me all you want, with your luscious bad self.

Women, I love you all. Sleep with me. Ok, print this out and spray some Eternity cologne on it.

Now will you?

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/kxjv7k81sb
Please let me know what you think

"25 Years" - The Go Find

2007-08-31T10:55:00.000-07:00

Hello All,

So there’s this real gay point in the song, where he says, “you know..I know....go. I know...you know...go.” That’s really dumb and it didn’t add to the song and it wastes like 2 seconds of my life every time I listen to it.

But you know, the melody and mood is so undeniable. I really enjoy this band, perhaps one of my favorites simply for the mood they evoke. It just seems like there are a lot of things that need to surface in the singer’s relationship. But then the more I listen to it the more I think it’s the singer really just having a conversation with himself, trying to rationalize and make sense of his predicament. You know, some say there are three main things that need to take place in a man’s life in order for him to really just develop and find his soul:

Not getting the job you had hoped for.
I forget what the second one was. I was reading it when I was inebriated. Why do I do that? Do I really gain anything from it? Hell yeah I do, it’s internalized and subconscious.
Having a long term relationship end (with her dumping you).

I think there comes a point in everyone’s life when you just have to jump off right into the deep end; you’ll eventually surface. Slowly walk in and once your feet feel how frigid the water is you'll surely recede. And may you never feel the replenishment of the water through your hair.

See the world through chlorinated eyes this weekend.

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/pjcdbp86yl

"More Like the Moon" - Wilco

2007-08-30T09:37:00.000-07:00

Dinner Conversation with Meghan, Heidi and Dan

Setting: Juniors (Jewish Deli) in Westwood

Me: Here’s what I was I thinking. You know, like, I’ve been playing around with evite for the past two days and stuff and I was thinking of how practical they are how they work effectively and pretty much get the job done, right?. Well, here’s what I was thinking. Because you know, it’d be good to save money, it’s less wasteful, it really gets the job done and it’s very efficient.

Them: What were you thinking?

Me: If the time came........I’d use evite for my...

Me: Wedding invitations!!!

I’m just glad I ran it by them first. (But not as glad as I was to have ordered the potato pancakes).

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/2m7mqdnk09

Why Surfing Is So Great

2007-08-24T01:05:00.000-07:00

Surfing is spiritually fulfilling and physically gratifying..yaddy yaddy bullshit.

But when you look at life and stuff....let’s take sex for example. It feels good, right? Well, it kinda has to, for the sake of civilization. If sex felt like getting your eye poked everytime, then people would stop boning down and humans will die off because it just wouldn’t be worth it. So, it feels good for a reason.

Let’s take another example, eating. Eating is delicious and yummy licious (lord, I’m high) and stuff, right? But eating has to be good and rewarding because it serves a biological need and fulfills a biological instinct. In this case, the biological instinct happens to be “shit, I think I wanna live.” So eating is not only yummyrificus, it’s also necessary.

But now you have surfing. What the fuck does surfing do, that deals with human survival? Millions of people never surf and they will never know what it’s like and their lawns will be green and their lives fulfilled, right? But you have to ask yourself, “how the fuck did the powers that be decide to make ‘standing on a plank in the the middle of the fucking ocean’ feel so fucking great?” Ggggggggooood lord it feels GRRRRReat!

And you know, Alexa, you learn how to surf, I tell you. Because it’s fucking amazing and soulful and humbling. It’s fucking great, it’s a rush, and (let’s admit) it’s fucking cool as shit. How many people get to say it? Whenever I’m in need of a pick-me-up, all I have to do is close my eyes and think about my first wave....

I had a pretty rough, busy Friday at work. I kinda, sorta was about to “shoot down the line” for the first time. Well, I drove up to Topanga after work, and I was out on my board and the water was as still as night. I sat on my board and witnessed the sun setting over the mountains. I’m on a fucking board in the middle of the ocean with the golden, California sun nestling between the mountain peaks! I had a conversation with the ocean. It was gouda but I said, “Hey. Thank you Pacific Ocean for letting me be here. I really needed you today and you feel real good to me and my soul. You know, I’ve been sitting here for 45 minutes now and haven’t been able to catch a wave (at all). So, I mean, hey, like, if you want...you know, maybe you can throw me a bone. If you would be so kind, could you just give me one wave and I swear I’ll paddle hard and deep. I swear I’ll try real hard and keep my balance. But I mean, hey, fuck it, if you can’t or don’t want to, it’s all good, I’m just grateful to be here. For real....thanks for just letting me bask in your wonder and might.” I waited 5 minutes, a wave came. Only about waist high, but I paddled. I got on it and shot down the line and all I could think about was that flash of time; what with the water behind me, rumbling like a bee....leaving the chaos of the world behind...while ahead of me, you just hear this hissing sound....tsssst tssssssst tssssssst psssssssttttt.....like mosquitos dancing along the surface of a pond. That is what tranquility sounds like. Like a fucking mosquito.

"Imagine" - Jack Johnson

2007-08-23T12:03:00.000-07:00

Hello All,

Fuck, I forgot who it was that I recently discovered hated Jack Johnson. Yeah, his music is very simple, but it’s intentionally simple. So, to justify myself, here’s how I determine if songs are going to get sent out:

Do I like it? No? Peace out!
BUT.....Is it a good song anyway? This one gets tricky. It’s based on (in order of importance): melody, lyrics, originality, genuine-ness.
Then it goes through a triple filtration process: 1) will it buy me any favors with the girls on the list? If it’ll convince them that I’m inhabitable or if it’ll lead to them subtly falling in love with me then having it come out when we’re all drunk, then yesiree Bob! We’ll worry about the whole me really “being an asshole once you really get to know me” later. True colors, schmue colors. 2) will most of the people on this list like it (I am socialist minded, mind you). 3) does it really matter what other people think? I mean, growing up, my MY BUDDY DOLL never told me about his feelings and opinions on music, so peace out!

Screw it, I’ll go out and say that I think I have a more intimate connection with my music than your average music fan. I depend on this stuff! It helps me grow and form ideas and values. This is not ambient noise like the ocean sounds you hear when you go to Red Lobster, this is my life we’re talking about. Singers/artists, tell me about your stories and frustrations. Lend me your songs for me to relate to, to cry to (whatever that is), give me some damn perspective! So no, spelling shit out becomes irrelevant once it appears to be contrived. Tell me to add a pinch of salt, not precisely 3/4 of a teaspoon. Get it?

Is it meant to make people dance or just go all out? Fine then. Is it meant to be all deep and introspective but really comes off like the emo shit I was super in love with 7 years ago? Whine then.

Well, hopefully that offers some insight into my evaluation process. I want to send songs that will polarize opinions. Screw that. Jack Johnson, though simple musically is actually pretty hefty with his message. Once you get past the Red Lobster guitaring, you get either an aspiring landscape to escape to or some little gems of thought starters. I really started to respect him when I heard the Handsome Boy Modeling School track of “Breakdown.” The whole song is dope, talking about slowing down. But the line that really got me was, “time is just a melody.” Hearing that really struck an emotional chord in me and offered a perspective on how time really is nothing more than a social construct. Does anyone even dare walk down that path of conversation with me? Other than Go? Ha!

Schmue colors...peace out!

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/cbuspe5b32

"Faded From the Winter" - Iron and Wine

2007-08-21T11:50:00.000-07:00

Hello All,

Hope you all had a good weekend; I stepped on a shark twice on Sunday, but I think I showed that fucker who’s boss (considering the fact that I squirmed like a little girl, cleary he was boss). Well, I’m dumping the few remaining 5 star rated songs from Iron and Wine for you because I really like them and I lost Roy’s DVD of new music (sorry Roy, hook it up again, please) and I heard this song all over again a few days ago and it really just knocked me on my ass.

His voice – so soothing. If you are ever in New York, in the middle of summer, he’ll be the Vick’s Vaporub that you apply to your belly button to keep cool.

His guitar – you can just “tell” that this song isn’t over-produced. Wait till you get to the 1:00 mark and you hear the guitar take you higher than ever before. It’s like he’s building and building, and his singing remains on the horizon like a boat, while his guitar picking lifts you up like you’re parasailing, further distinguishing what’s real from what’s abstract.

Oh listen to it on that 1:00 mark I tell you. A producer would probably tell him to break into a chorus or but nope, Sam just goes to town and builds up a small climax for the song. Little tidbits like this convince me that the singer is virtuous in his feelings and isn’t too concerned with making marketable music. The lyrics are poetry...even if you don’t like it, or you’re not as cheesy as me, damn....you can’t deny the imagery and world that Sam creates for his fans. And it’s the outright cries that make emo, emo or other commercial music successful. But Sam really uses more ambiguous ways to convey his feelings. It’s the sense of quiet desperation that separates him from the more obvious, surface-level romantics.

Enjoy,

-- Sonnyred

(wow, to think I actually wrote about the song today)

http://www.box.net/shared/zydn06lndl

FADED FROM THE WINTER

daddy's ghost behind you
sleeping dog beside you
you're a poem of mystery
you're the prayer inside me

spoken words like moonlight
you're the voice that i like

needlework & seedlings
in the way you're walking
to me from the timbers
faded from the winter

The Gayest Band Names Ever

2007-08-20T22:06:00.000-07:00

Ok guys. I think this is complete, but for real, I’m not going to put that much time into it, I’m just going to spit it out. I took everyone’s recommendations into consideration and just used my self-righteousness to disregard ones I didn’t agree with. It’s a slow day at work and a beautiful day at the beach.

Rules
It has to be unintentional. Barenaked Ladies or Butthole Surfers don’t work.
It has to be a recognizable band or I had to have sent them out before.
Blake is a fucking bitch for making the list that much better by segmenting it (I love you, seriously)

Auto-gay-dom – of course there are exceptions
The ______ - automatically gay, but there are exceptions
Misspelling your name, no excuses
The ____ ______ - combining two random words that don’t really make sense
______ and the ________ - for real? Go sprinkle rat poison in your eye and go fuck yourself.
Any combination of words and numbers (Sum 41, Blink 182, U2, 98 Degrees, Jurassic 5)
The name of an animal.

Ranked, in order from Hay to What Gay Horses Eat (Hey!!!!!) - and they should be ranked by name alone, but some things you can’t ignore..so there’s a boatload of subjectivity to it. I tend to hate sarcasm, tongue in cheek names.

Belle and Sebastian – reminds me of two shetland ponies gnawing on grass. See how gay they are? They just made me use the word gnawing.

The Get Up Kids – there was a time when I thought emo band names were cool, but then I’m a fucking 28 year old man now. MAN, not child (you got that, WOMAN?)

Jimmy Eat World – when I first heard of them, I thought of the video game Earthworm Jim. So I thought they were intergalactic penises.

Dashboard Confessional – seen that dude's eyebrows? So fucking thick and burrowed. If those shits caught on fire, it’d be able to evacuate an 8 unit apartment building.

Dogs Die In Hot Cars – I really hate sarcasm in band names. They spell cool like kewl.

Explosions in the Sky – it makes me think of extreme diarrhea (Katie, yes I love toilet humor)

Panic! at the Disco – I hate any type of punctuation in band names. Know how it fucks shit up when you’re trying to download it on Limewire?

Say Hi to Your Mom – You just want to punch this guy in the face. This jerk shops at Hollister and wears those gay ass seashell necklaces and hemp bracelets.

Architecture in Helsinki – admittedly, the band name fits their music (it makes absolutely no sense)

The Whitest Boy Alive – this is the equivalent of a tshirt that reads, “I’m big in Japan.”

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah – most people would initially think, “that’s a fun name. they seem like a fun band.” then you hear the guy’s whiny voice and you automatically think he has 4 gerbils in his ass.

Morningwood – very gay, but the lead’s voice is pretty sexy...she’d give Martina Navratilova a boner (even gayer was that Navratilova is fucking saved on spellcheck...fucking spellcheck!!! And muthafucking even “spellcheck” isn’t on spellcheck. That’s so gay I want to go to a Turkish bath house and drown in ecstacy...I’m so fucking mad)

Sparklehorse – sarcastic, gay name. This dummy uses Pantene Pro-V.

Nice & Smooth – these old school rappers think they’ll get laid with a name like that, I bet they groom their mustaches

LL Cool J – how many times can you lick your lips in an interview?

Good Charlotte – isn’t this guy dating Hillary Duff or something? I fucking hate them and won’t hesitate to smear their mascara with battery acid if I were to ever see them..presumably at the Teen’s Choice Awards...or 99% of the Southbay population’s iPOD playlist)

The Go Team – so many top-shelf girls love Go; and it drives me crazy. I only hang out with him to collect DNA samples and stem cell that shit to improve my game. Go is the Japanese LL Cool J. But I bet he licks other lips more often than his own.

TV On the Radio – know what’s even more ironic than the name? The fact that Black dudes from Brooklyn are making the best fucking music the rock scene has witnessed in the past 10 years.

Counting Crows – might as well name yourself “watching paint dry” or “watermelon seed spitting contest.” The act of counting crows must be real boring. Oh I know the perfect boring name, call yourself “texas hold em”

Oasis – I think this is considered to be British humor.

Air – You know, I think this name has bit of arrogance to it; but I kinda like it. This is me being “considerate” of other people’s deep engagements with their thoughts and their contributions.

Augustana – what is this shit? I was born in August and first I got fucked with being born in the only month without having a national holiday. Now my month sounds like a city in Georgia? What the fuck! At last make it a Blue state. I want to go punch a 12 year old girl now.

Kasabian – this must be the gay looking, bald Armenian guy that walks around Hollywood clubs with his Monarchy tshirt, gold chain, and Hennessey and Coke. Then does laps around the club in his white Ford Mustang or BMW 318 afterwards.

Aqualung – the gayest superhero ever was Aquaman. And I don’t care how happy-go-lucky he is, Vincent Chase is a douche. I want his life.

Interpol – remember that classic arcade game, Pole Position? I always thought there was something gay about it. Then my poor, ignant ass never knew Interpol was like the European police. If someone told me that Interpol was looking for me, I would think they would try to apprehend me on shetland ponies (named Belle and Sebastian).

Stellastar – haven’t we learned from Starship?

Wham – George Michael shaking his butt, with those close up shots really could’ve been dangerous while I was developing my sexual identity. Thank lord for Vanna White and Kelly Bundy.

Marvin Gaye – He was so smooth, he was just burdened with a gay name. Might as well have been born Marvin Lovesvegetablesuphisanoos

Mr Mister – how much more must he convince himself and the world that he’s not gay? Repetition can be a sign of uncertainty. Mr. Tribal Tattoo. It’s like those manly men that spend all day watching UFC, cage fighting or Football. Really, when you think about it, you’re watching a bunch of dudes touch each other. I’d rather go watch Maria Sharapova model adidas clothes at The Home Depot center with Roy, anyday.

Ditty Bops – shut up, dumb girls. That’s not cute.

Fall Out Boy – god, I hope these guys get pants'd on stage one day

Gin Blossoms – the early-mid 90s brought an onslaught of gay names that tried to sound all eclectic..

Stone Temple Pilots – like them

Smashing Pumpkins – and as dope and soulful as Billy Corgan is, you wouldn’t want to run into this fucking walking albino Q-Tip in a dark alley.

Pinback – such a gay sounding voice from this buff lead singer. You would think at night, he sleeps on those guaze/cotton pads that they pin butterflies to. Gay name. Songs about drowning fish are gay as hell too, but so unquantifiably dope.

Wu Tang Clan – my favorite hip hop group is also the gayest group. Yeah I know Wu Tang Clan. They live in Monterey Park, drive a Lexus, tell corny jokes, eat Banh Mi’ sandwiches and their breath has the constant smell of fish sauce.

Pearl Jam – This is a supergay compound word for semen. It’s like jizzmilkysauce.

Skid Row – how bout that song “I Remember You.” Fuck, you guys are rock stars. Don’t sing about shit that’s about love (that I’ll like), sing about bats and goat blood. Stay true to your name.

Nickelback – fuck em. I hate that guy's badass with a heart, goatee'd attidude. I wonder how many rattlesnakes die each year to provide him with cowboy boots. By the way, what’s up with all this....

Pennywise – coinage?

Bright Eyes – how can you call this guy bright eyes? He’s the most pessimistic artist on this list. He makes the Grim Reaper cry.

Savage Garden – I just flew in from New York. And boy are my arms tired. Ha! Don’t call me, I’ll call you. God, my brother and I started a fight with a family when we went camping in Alaska because of this fucking band (I shit you not). I want to fucking kill them. All I really need is for George Bush to sing lead, then it’ll be worth it.

Led Zeppelin – I was very ambivalent to the Euro-centric curriculum in my high school so I don’t know what the meaning is behind this name. But when I saw “led” I was like, “wait, it’s not los, la, el, or los lobos. This ain’t Chicano! Fuck that! I was raised Mexican, so whatever.

My Chemical Romance – I like to self loathe sometimes also, but I’m not going to name myself, “Hug Me, I’m Lonely”

Oingo Boingo – It would’ve been gayer, but “Dead Man’s Party” scared the shit out of me when I was 7-9 years old. Still gives me the heebie geebies.

Burning Spear – not only gay, but unprotected and irresponsibly gay.

Puddle of Mudd – how diarrhea is that? And just because you wear a beanie, it doesn’t mean you’re tough. You fucking Silent Bob loving bitch!

Jane’s Addiction – many people say this is dope, but this is pretty gay. Mostly gay because the girl I know that used to love this band always wore, everyday, a bomber jacket with lipstick stains and stray ballpoint pen marks all over it.

Toad the Wet Sprocket – gayer but I like them because I joined their fan club in junior high and they always sent me stuff.

Band of Horses – even their voices are gay. Horses are the gayest animals in the animal queendom. I fucking hate horses with their muscular physique and human-like hair. Fuck them. They should focus on their teeth before they trot around showing off their muscular, division 1 soccer legs.

Metallica – is this an Urban Decay lipstick color? Know what’s geigher? Me knowing Urban Decay. I swear, sometimes I’m actually interested in hearing what women have to say, even after getting in their pantalones.

Hoobastank – are they from Orange County? Or like the valley? What kind of name is that? Hoobastank is probably how I would describe the smell of a decomposing octopus.

Snow Patrol – god, I never should’ve even given them a chance. Their music is gay, their sound is gay, their name is gay. This is the gateway drug to “indie” rock. I slang coke, this is like a bottle of Boone’s Strawberry Farm.

Jamiroquai – I hate this name. I know he’s trying to sound like a country in Africa, but he really sounds like the land where the dog from “The Neverending Story” would be from.

Eazy-E – considering he died from AIDS, he stayed true to his name.

Boyz II Men – I love how these guys just opened up the floodgates and allowed Black artists to be “street” and sensitive at the same time. And I loved the chubby Mike Tyson soprano guy that always squinted his eyes when he got real emotive. He was gay all along, he just stared at women’s breasts all day because his neck would get stiff from looking up all the time. Go shorty, it’s your birthday.

Bush – Blake’s favorite. I really liked it, but I fucking hated it because I didn’t think of it first. So bugger off, Blake. And Blake has the unfair advantage of having her mind constantly in the gutter.

Pink Floyd – honestly, the real reason I hate Classic Rock is because I heard this band’s name before I heard the entire genre of music. And this is super gay. And when you see homeless bums or crackheads or homeless drunks and ask them what kind of music they listen to, I bet 99.9999% of them would answer “Classic Rock.” Know what I listen to? I listen to underground hip hop, homie. Homie as in friend, not homie as in hahah, you don’t have a home.

Kid n’ Play – they made everyone so envious of their free spiritedness and dance moves that it compelled a nation of urban youth to wear clown clothes. And you always wondered if Kid was half white or he just had peanut butter complexion.

Finally, just some random sections.

GAY ANIMAL NAMES
The Eagles
Minus the Bear
Le Tigre
Arctic Monkeys
The Beatles
Flock of Seagulls
Eek a Mouse
Def Leopard
Gorillaz
Whitesnake
Ratt

THESE BANDS ARE THEORETICALLY GAY, BUT MANAGE TO COMBINE TWO GAY ENTITIES AND FORM LIKE AN ARNOLD SCHWARZELLWEGGER VULTRON
Flaming Lips
Bikini Kill
Queens of the Stone Age

BADASS AND GAY IN ONE NAME – Blake, you’re a genius
“Death Cab”-Badass, “For Cutie”- Gay
“Bone Thugs”- Badass, “n’ Harmony”- Gay
“Gang”- Badass, “Starr”-Gay
“Guns”-badass, n’Roses”- Gay
“Violent”- Badass, “Femmes” – Gay
“cold” play” - necrophilia (hint, that means fucking dead people...actually kinda badass)
“Wolf”- Badass, “parade” – Gay (same with Wolfmother)

FINALLY, THIS IS THE BAZOOKA JOE BADASS LIST (surprisingly gay, also)
Dead Prez – they are badass, and they talk about beating up white people. That’s racist and ignorant, but fuck, sometimes we minority folks do get discriminated against, so fuck it!

Cat Power – if they were a bunch of mullet rocking hipsters than it’d be gay. But a lunatic bitch? Bad ass.

Mobb Deep – sure, they misspelled Mobb but I really don’t think they did it on purpose.

The Escape Club – it reminds me of a sandwich, and the bacon is just fucking tired and fed up and wants to go home and sleep

Saves the Day – shit,I like it. Sorry.

Cold War Kids - in the race for governor, Reagan ran on the platform that his opponent was a socialist; and was able to convince the public of it.

Rolling Stones – I love that whole analogy. Every man should live their life that way.

Blackalicious - It’s like naming yourself Luther. Like, you’d totally allow him to rest his penis on your head while he tells you about how he made eye contact with the girl that works at Foot Locker (and how he’s going to use her for the friends and family discount).

The Carpenters – like, if you went to their apartments you’d think they all have their own bars in there; with shotglasses in the shape of cowboy boots and a brandy glass full of matches from various nightclubs.

The New Pornographers - but Porno for Pyros is super gay

Groove Theory – it’s smooth, if the ocean was made of pudding, this would be it. You hear the band’s name, and you automatically know what you’re in for.

Kings of Convenience – this band is super chill. Like you can have a bunch of people make a mess at their apartment, and they’re like “ah nah..don’t even worry about it. Go home, I’ll clean.”

Digable Planets – no matter how cool their music was, their name was always better.

Handsome Boy Modeling School – Blake said it was gay, I like this name, though. It makes me want to get hair transplants on my armpits to increase my number of pheromones.

Tiger Army – I just love how their fur is so orange, it reminds me of an orange with fangs that will make your pants cry

Sneaker Pimps – I have no idea what the chick looks like, but her voice sounds like Jessica Alba, and I’m sure she'll look more like Jessica Yoda.

Alice In Chains – I would think that they take annual trips to stonehenge just so they can drink Jagermeister and draw pictures of what Death would look like.

The Decemberists – why couldn’t I have been born in December?

The Conscious Daughters – remember them? They were a gangsta rap duo and they sounded like men. Definitely bad ass. That must be what Luther sounds like.

And You Will Know Us By the Trail of the Dead – Worth every time I had to hit shift to capitalize that name

Iron and Wine – Gay, dominatrix sounding prison band..but you know what??? You can lock me up and throw away the key!

Arcade Fire – two obscure words, but somehow defuncts everything I mentioned before because they are the Bravehearts of music. EPIC!

A Tribe Called Quest – It’s flawless. I challenge anyone to top this.

Top 5 Gayest Solo Artist Names

2007-08-16T11:03:00.000-07:00

Ranked in order from anal Cheeto to Flaming Hot Cheeto:

No. 5 - Boy George

Too obvious.

No. 4 - Herbie Hancock

Would've been higher but I don't think too many of you younger cats know him.

No. 3 - Ricky Nelson

He gave birth to two of the gayest looking twins, ever. If I were to see one of the Nelson twins from the back, (with their long, flowing hair) I might get an erection. And that's gayer than gay. That's Ben.

No. 2 - Jack Johnson

Ultimate porn name. It's the equivalent of Hans Solo.

No. 1 - Little Richard

You know his name is the last thing he'd ever want. Woooooo!

Honorable mention to all Chinese artists with the last name Wang.

Inebriated Conversation - The Letter Q

2007-08-11T13:22:00.000-07:00

At Baja Cantina, last night, Jen, Rachelle and uhh I forgets were talking about the letter Q. I was telling them my problem with how shitty life can be sometimes and how the world really just isn't fair. And I was like, "For real Diety, no matter what, can you just make shit fair?" Who would have ever thought the creator(s) of life would be so against equality. God must have been a capitalist.

Well, I was talking about how the letter Q is just in a fucked up situation; especially when compared to the letter U. The point being that Q is so tied down and pussy whupped on U and U can be exploring other options. Ok, so grammar and language has it that if Q is ever used in a word, it always has to be with U. So there's already an alarming dependency. It's super needy, kind of like the girl/guy that always calls you every 15 minutes to see what you're doing when you're out with your friends (I'm fucking the Swedish Bikini Team in an 87' Chrysler LeBaron convertible, you pest). But it's a fact that Q needs to have a U in order to be relevant.

While all the while, U is always with another letter, at any given time. U is in SLUT; which demonstrates it perfectly. Well, where (shit..I'm stoned right now and I'm waiting to go surfing, fuck!?!?!? Andrew, Withers, Sanseri..where are you guys?).

Well, I hope I made some sense. Basically, I think it sucks that Q is always with U, and always looking forward to U; while U is like, "whateva, playa."

But I also hate Q because of his well developed Pringles mustache.

"Easier" - Grizzly Bear

2007-08-09T11:18:00.001-07:00

http://www.box.net/shared/4zxjtgb3yd

Simpsonize Me --- I Look Indian

2007-08-08T14:03:00.000-07:00

"Minha Galera" - Manu Chao

2007-08-08T11:53:00.000-07:00

Last time I sent out Manu Chao (this song specifically) there were only like 12 subscribers on this list, so I thought it’d be great to resend this great Summer song.

Ok, this song is in Portuguese, the band sings in Spanish, and they’re from France. Reminds me of my parents. When I was young my folks always talked about how they loved Elvis and The Beatles so much. They’d go on and on about how their records were banned; and you’d get fined if you were caught playing the record. “But dad, you didn’t speak a lick of English back then and you didn’t understand them at all.” He said all you really need for a good song is a good melody. I never quite understood what he meant by it.

Then comes this band and I find myself playing their albums on repeat all last summer. Now I completely understand what they were talking about when we had that conversation 20 years ago (wow, I’m old...even 20 years ago I was already a bumbling idiot). Fuck.

Way to make me feel like shit, fuckteeth.

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/ptcnr03bxu

New York - Rock Playlist

2007-08-07T13:06:00.000-07:00

Hello All,

Ok, this is probably about as intimate as it can get. I pour my pathetic heart and preteen emotions out in these emails every day to a bunch of strangers that don’t know me. Knowledge is useless without understanding; so I’m pretty confident that I can somewhat try to remain a mystery to some. Maybe I’ll wear an eye patch just for the fuck of it. Whatever, I have a busy day so I won’t try to make this all special, but I wanted to offer up something that will give more insight into me than anything I’ve ever written. I’m giving you a playlist! It lets you know how I chunk my music and what context I listen to it in. So it’s not like, “great choice for listening.” It’s more like, “ok, he chose to listen to this, in that context..what the hell was he thinking?” And lord, you have no idea how strongly a playlist can shape your environment and influence the way you experience it.

Well, for the most part, instead of perpetuating the energy and chaos of Manhattan, I really wanted to counterbalance it. After all, though in the middle of everything, I was very much rolling solo and I couldn’t help but see each subway train and think, “Aren’t we really all just a bunch of lost souls? What’s really on our agenda? Why are we walking so fast? Do we really need to be there, that fast? Are we going to win gold medals? Or cookies? Is it to justify our existence? Like, ‘let’s walk fast and hurriedly so that people will think we’re going places and handling our bitness?’” Really though, I revel at sharing such intimate things like playlists, but thought you guys might find it interesting. Shit, maybe it might even compel you guys to make playlists of your own for certain moods, trips, etc. (please share with me, I’m very curious).

I don’t know. Either way, the city was sizzling and these songs helped my nerves simmer down (lyrics should be embedded in the files):

SWEET SWEET HEARTKILLER
Say Hi to Your Mom – cool nerd rock. Top 5 current bands right now. This song is one of my favorites that I discovered this year (I can’t thank you enough, Eric). Lyrics and story of the song are beautiful. “Her winks cut through me like a ginsu."

BLAH BLAH BLAH
Say Hi to Your Mom - again, another song that makes me think, “why the fuck aren’t these guys living in mansions and playing with their pet bengal tigers?” they’re so good.....gosh, I really hate the commercial music plight.

BOOKS FROM BOXES
Maximo Park – the name of the band reminds me of a Korean gladiator. And that’s why I picked this song.

BREAKFAST IN BED
Dntl feat. Conor Oburst – however you spell the whiny boy’s name. Well, he always draws comparisons to Dylan (I’m not sure if it’s Bob or the Luke Perry). Story revolves around a fling that takes place in New York, presumably under the context of an affair. Well, this song just makes me want to tell someone, “for real. No one has to know. If you want it, don’t let anyone other than you stop you; not your obligations or commitments.” The heart is a powerful thing, and you can’t control your feelings or what you think, but your mind can definitely sedate you and restrict you from really letting your soul take flight. That’s my case, no further comments. But on a side note, my dad taught me a lesson I’ll never fail, “never fuck around with your friends’ girlfriends. It’s a lot easier to find a desirable girl than it is to find a good friend.” Word up, pops!

FISTS UP
The Blow – her voice is soothing and her cute personality just oozes out. If I had to choose a wife based on voice alone, I’d pick her. Sure, Karen O (yeah yeah yeahs) and Chan (Cat Power) will probably be wild times, but when it comes down to it...I pick cute over sexy, or even psycho-sexy, anyday.

HOW MY HEART BEHAVES
Feist – this song reminds me of a rich, yuppie woman in a dark red dress overlooking a windowsill somewhere in San Francisco. Trying to see through the pattering rain, looking into oblivion for some sort of salvation. Perhaps holding her wine in one hand, clutching her pearl necklace in the other (the literal kind, perverts) And like she probably has a white, fluffy cat that reminds you of that lead cheerleader in high school that always had a bitchface and you didn’t understand why all the guys liked her so much? Here’s a hint, it’s because she looks like a bitch.

NO FIT STATE
Hot Chip – this is the gayest sounding band, like I want to pick up old school wrestler, Hacksaw Jim Dugan, and just go beat the shit out of all the band members. I do like them a lot, but I would never play them in front of my “ghetto friends." But still, this song made me feel cool, calm and cRaZY!!

SIMPLE X
Andrew Bird – this song, the entire album was real soothing and mellow. No real standouts other than this song. And even still it wasn’t an F-16 fighter jet, but it was still like, “look, that’s a cool plane.” Same mood inhibitor as Beck’s “Sea Change.” The marching band drumming made me walk with pride, like I had a posse as my backup, like all the dancers in the “Thriller” video.

SURPRISE ICE
Kings of Convenience - New York always seemed more cultured and mature than LA to me. So I picked this song because it made me feel older and more refined. This is probably the musical equivalent of a wool, pea coat. This is one of those songs that they'll play in the courtroom waiting rooms (to maintain all the pissed off people waiting because they got summoned) or the song they'll play when someone crazy gets reintroduced back into society. And like, I’m doing fine...I’m just getting buy...used the shrimp fork for the shrimp, napkin on my lap and all. Then all of a sudden, I get a sip of a mojito then I just flip the table upside down and go into a rage like, “fuck, shit!!?!?!?!!?!” and just go ape shit on everyone. The calm before the storm.

WEREWOLF
CocoRosie - This song is byoo-tea-full. Just listen to the lyrics. This song will make you like black licorice. I had this on repeat while perusing the hallways of MOMA, silently judging people by their handbags. You listen to this song on the subway and you’ll have this uncontrollable urge to bob your head to the slow drumming. This is one of those songs that you have to listen to for at least 2 hours on repeat to realize how monumental, flawless and how tragically beautiful it is. Then, after that you return to your subway car, and you’re like, “Shit, I want to just announce this band to everyone in here. I wish they could all hear the song I’m listening to right now! They have no idea how cool I am by playing this right now. Damn, if only they knew....they’d want me to kiss their babies.”

-- Sonnyred

Download the entire compilation here:
http://www.box.net/shared/9xa6yrqb14

What the Bleep Do You Know?

2007-08-03T11:50:00.000-07:00

(At my apartment, high and wanting to harass someone; all while waiting for Meghan to pick me up)

All events occurred via text message:

Roe to Roy: You: Ur lame. U don’t even know how cool it is to rock a sidekick. I feel like toni braxton. I know what you’re thinking, you homo.
Roy to Roe: Haha....I’d get one if it weren’t t mobile.
Roe to Roy: Dude its fucking made exacrly dfor people like us. No joke.
Roy to Roe: I know ppl that have one just to use for internet, text and im. No phone service just data plan
Roe to Roy: Fuck yeah, u know people that are deaf. Ure a fucking saint, I hate you.
Roy to Roe: Deaf? No just spoiled rotten. Enough to afford 2 phones and 2 plans.

(En route to POWs, I told Meghan about my latest adventures of being high and harassing people)

First thing I do is buy her a beer because I love her and she picked me up. We go to the bar, order the beer, and we walk by the jukebox (and you know me, I’m curious by nature). There’s a girl there, by herself, picking songs and so I peek over her shoulder. She requests three songs. All
TONI muthafucking BRAXTON.

Two Mash Ups for Everyone

2007-08-02T09:57:00.000-07:00

Hello All,

This Saturday, going off at The Echo (Echo Parque). Mad mash ups and freaks galore. Always a good time of to be had there; whether it be dancing or just listening to creative mixes. If you can manage to scurry out of the comfort zone and want to catch of a better representation of Los Angeles, go there this Saturday.

Not every girl is thin. Not every girl wears True Religion. Not every girl has a vagina.

-- Sonnyred

Joy Division Mashup
http://www.box.net/shared/28puro6q87

Lady Sovereign Mashup
http://www.box.net/shared/cg1g48995x

"Good Woman" - Cat Power

2007-08-01T11:14:00.000-07:00

Hello All,

I’m a hopeless romantic simply because of the way love is depicted in music and film. It’s carefully orchestrated, where the camera pans around 360 degrees to lock in on a young/disgruntled/reunited/dying couple holding each other in a park/ice skating rink/spring meadow/football field. Helicopters have to climb hundreds of feet into the air so that the camera can pan out to show the couples’ microcosm in relation to their outer environment. There is no doubt about it; love constantly walks the fine line between luxury and basic human need; and that’s what fascinates me about the whole notion of it.

A lot of it had to do with my dad, who engrained me with the splendors and splinters of love at a very young age. Talking about how An Affair to Remember’s protagonist was a real man by not mentioning how long he patiently waited for her; or the countless times he sang songs by The Platters on our summer roadtrips. I don’t know, my dad said he was always a wise man but always a fool for love (which is why he married my mom and she pumped me out like I was a constipated turd). And so a lot of my dad’s interests and a little bit of Hollywood magic was what got me all interested in the phenomenon to begin with. How can something so immeasurable leave someone feeling so empty? At the same time, how can something, that people can do without, be so nourishing?

And love songs? I’ll tell you why I love them. Because they’ve been around for tens of thousands of years and no one can quite crack it. Millions of songs have been written about it and yet tomorrow I just might hear someone articulate it in a fresh, new way. I mean like, really, isn’t that insane? And it can all evoke a certain message; whether it be a rap verse, a bellowing opera song, or the strokes of a piano. So what better medium to compare music to? So far, I don’t know..they’re all the same in power. I might actually make a little playlist and upload it...different genres (classical chamber chant, rock, emo, punk, hip hop, jazz and blues) to show how powerful and diverse and uniform music is?

With music I always try to account for the intangible — the authenticity of the artists’ emotions. People can sing or pen their own songs, but you can somewhat sense if their motives were true or if they just wanted to invent a feeling to sell records (kind of like people who love someone simply because they want someone to love). So the intangible is why I’m sending out today’s song. It may be be a repeat for some, but oh yeah, I don’t give a fuck. Just listening to the first 3 seconds it’s like, “hold up. Let me pause it and make myself a JD and Coke to go with my cigarette.”

Hands running through your hair and all.

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/4ho4u4aroc

GOOD WOMAN
I want to be a good woman
And I want, for you to be a good man.
This is why I will be leaving
And this is why, I can't see you no more.
I will miss your heart so tender
And I will love
This love forever

I don't want be a bad women
And I can't stand to see you be a bad man
I will miss your heart so tender
And I will love
This love forever
And this is why I am leaving
And this is why I can't see you no more
This is why I am lying when I say
That I don't love you no more

Cause I want (to) be a good women
And I want for to be a good man

"Dream" - Alice Smith

2007-07-31T15:31:00.000-07:00

Hello All,

Props to first time rock contributor Jerico for today’s song. Here’s what he had to say about it:

So here’s what I think about the track:

Straight from HBO’s Entourage, this track finished the episode this past Sunday. As always, they have many sleeper cuts on this show + bring back some goodies that people slept on 1st time around.

This track by Alice Smith just oozes with soul. Its just so fuckin’ smooth...the breaks in the beginning of the track just make you move - makes you all geeked up if you got a girl to enjoy it with and got you feenin’ for one if you don’t.

Live Easy and Enjoy.

Feenin, indeed.

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/xffdrqzpfz

Roommate Search

2007-07-31T10:57:00.000-07:00

Hello All,

I’m looking for a roommate:

Facts
$800 + utilities (usually no more than $30 a month)
Marina Del Rey (3 minute drive to work, 20 minute bike ride to the beach, 1 1/2 blocks to Al Tomizawa) Move in September (or last week of August)
2 bd, 1 ba – you get the bigger bedroom and your own parking spot
Month to month

About Me
Personality – easy going, neat and all the sensibilities of a respectable roommate
I listen to a lot of independent music, watch indie flicks and documentaries
Not really into sports, KROQ, TV or myspace (but whatever, that’s what makes me feel like a princess)
Don’t smoke, drink occasionally (we can talk about other vices later)
I like to go out and party and stuff, but I prefer to keep the place as a sanctuary.
But the place is always open to friends and travelers.
Don’t mind sharing food/drink, just don’t kill it....hopefully same applies to you.

What I look for in a roommate
Someone that can keep the place tidy and pay bills on time, blah blah.
Trustworthy and respectful of privacy.
Discreet enough to resist the urge to gossip about my prosthetic leg, subscription to Tiger Beat or gingivitis. If we can be friends, then great. If not, then that’d kinda be awkward, wouldn’t you agree?

Thanks all, -- Roe I can send you pics of the apartment (probably with inebriated people posing in it) if you’re interested.

I don’t quite have any pictures of the place yet, but here’s a PowerPoint rendering to give you a more accurate sense of the place.

That’s a picture of me, enjoying a lemonade, and welcoming YOU as a potential new roommate.
That’s right.
You.

-- Roe

"Foundations" - Kate Nash

2007-07-30T17:08:00.000-07:00

Hello All,

Rachelle was wrong! I like this song. Here’s what she had to say about it. (Thanks, you crazy nut).

--- Sonnyred

Hi Roe,
Here is the song I was telling you about at dinner on Saturday. (I said she’s a little like Lilly Allen, who you said you didn’t like, but that I should send you the song anyway.) I’ve listened to the song a few more times, and I actually don’t think it sounds much like Lilly Allen any more.

It’s called ‘Foundations’ and it’s by a lady called Kate Nash. Here’s what she looks like:
(I like to see what singers look like.)

I don’t have much to tell you about it, except that it is a very real observation about what relationships are like when they are coming to an end. You know you don’t want to be with someone anymore, and in fact, you are really starting to hate everything about them, and yet you don’t leave. I think it’s a lovely little ditty.

Anyway, sorry if you hate it, but you asked for it. :)

http://www.box.net/shared/9f410be7il

"Bring It Home to Me" - Sam Cooke

2007-07-27T20:01:00.000-07:00

Recipients: Heidi, Sara, Go, Jerico, Julia, Rob and James Starr

Message: I’m high and listening to music right now and I’m thinking, “Damn!!!! I love this shit so much…and damn!!!!!! I’m higher than a mugga fugga. That’s the word…”

Responses:
Jerico: And that is living!
James Starr: Renees?
Go: It’s a beautiful thing
Heidi: Mugga futha

http://www.box.net/shared/7fuskkkxug

"Welcome to the Terrordome" - Pharoah Monche

2007-07-24T13:46:00.001-07:00

Hello All,

I have no trouble admitting that I’m real glad to be back in Killa Kali. I missed everything about this beautiful city. I missed the ocean. I missed the Mexican food. I missed the Mexicans. It’s funny because when I was in New York or Chicago and saw a Mexican (really, only identifiable by the shirts that said “Mexico” on it) I felt like I was seeing a distant relative (only that I might get jacked or jumped for not being Mexican). But for real, I went to a Mexican food joint in Chicago late night Sunday and saw they had carnitas and al pastor on their menu so I was like, “Firme!” I get the al pastor nachos, walk back to the lab to grub down and opened the container. I should’ve taken a picture but I was too drunk to think about it. Well, the al pastor I swear was some pollo asada, it came with tomatoes, store bought tortilla chips, and NACHO (muthafucking) cheese. What? No real cheese? I should’ve known better because that authentic Mexican food also boasted a menu of authentic Pizza and authentic Hot Dogs. And when I asked if they had any Tapatio or Cholula they were looking at me like I was some type of crazy chino.

Sunday in Chicago was insane. I got in touch with a girl that I met a month ago (at your BBQ, Andrew) that lives there and is into hip hop. So, she took me out to this Zune concert thing that was dope...Little Brother, Bilal and Kweli performed. Rumor had it Mos was also going to perform with Black Star again. I was going ape shit over it. I mean, right when Raleigh brought forth the magic that LB are being that I was really, really into BS. Wow! I almost cream puffed my pants. So I was standing near the back of the front of the stage (you know what I’m saying, at the back of the front section, where like if shots rang you could still run and jump a fence and bounce without feeling pressured for being a snitch when the cops show up) and saw this one cat smoking the herb. Now a week into my trip I was like, “Dude, I’m quitting. I want to do this writing gig and I need to focus.” But of course I became another VICTIM of circumstance. I had to see what Chitown was like. It was aweeee(yawn)ite. Nah, it was decent and it was free. But after two bowls and a pound and little dosie of that pat on the back quick, manly hug thing I bounced. The girl I was with then hooked it up with some backstage passes so we went to go grub on some Chitown BBQ, drink some dranky drank and just chill out. Of course I had to go speak my mind to some of the performers. So I got to see/engage with: Little Brother, Bilal, Black Star and Rhymefest. Turned out that the big baller that was responsible for hooking me up and throwing the event and I are connected. 10 years ago (fuck, Roy, can you believe it’s been that long) I ran with this street team that is based out of LA (N5!) and the dude (named Chris) used to collab with our crew back in the day. Beautiful how small the hip hop community really is. I felt a big sense of pride and a little bit of shame. It sucks that I had to fall out of the game and give in to the reality of life. I commended him for pushing the art forward and continuing to bring real hip hop to the masses. I swear, I’m committed to doing helping the culture elevate (hopefully keeping the corporate politics and bullshit to a minimum). Side note, props to Jerico for pushing for Mos to appear in one of the PSP ads. Mike, as a producer I’m sure you do your thing too. Well after that big ol festival, we went to go see this band that Chris was managing at the Double Room in Wicker Park. I really wasn’t feeling the group (named BSTC or something) so I told him what I thought Ozomatli had that they didn’t or what I feel they could do to make the sound more compelling (adding vocals, per se). But Elaine (the girl that hooked me up) was like, “Yeah some girl name Rez is also performing. But I think she goes by Reece.” Damn! Res headlined it; pretty dope and sexy neo soul act, so it really just blew my mind.

I met a lot of cool cats that Sunday night. Real hip hop, mature hip hop heads (not a backpacker in sight) and a smoky, dark lounge. In between acts, the DJ started off with “My Posse’s On Broadway” and this cat this is the conversation that took place:

Cat: Aww, you don’t know this shit, it’s a little too raw.
Me: What? Sir fucking Mix A Lot from Seattle? You going to tell me I don't know this shit? (Roy, didn’t we promote one of his wack ass albums)?
Cat: Yeah man. He’s from Seattle?
Me: Hell yeah (I’m not even too sure, but I said it with so much conviction I could’ve said he was from Candyland and it would’ve been believable). Man, the only reason anyone besides white chicks loving that “Baby Got Back” song ever listened to him was because his songs bumped like a motherfucker! You don’t even have to like his rhyming, when hear that bass drop you’re like “damn!!!!!!!!!!!!” It alters your heart rate. And you know by the time he came out, we were all tired of listening to that weird ass reversed Beastie Boys bass drop. Shit, I remember connecting them 8 ohm, house speakers to my amp just so I could bump. What you talking about?

Then we just busted up laughing. Then, Rakim (I Know You Got Soul), Gangstarr (You Know My Steez), Eastflatbush Project (Tried By Twelve), EPMD (Crossover), Goodie Mob (Cell Therapy) and Beat Nuts (Do You Believe) all came on; I proceeded to mouth the words while he was left a little dumbfounded. To that I told him, “Aww..you don’t know this shit. It’s a little too raw.”

You wanna fuck what? Jump up and get bucked. If you’re feeling lucky duck, then press your luck.

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/sbxslyvzmx

By the way, if you guys like this joint, then I suggest you buy the entire album. It’s dope. Pharoah Monche even got a great review in The Onion (and you know how Hip Hop the Onion is). But sure crowd pleaser with the nod to Public Enemy and what not. I was bumping this album my entire trip. It’s dope! He’s the only MC that I think might be able to stand a chance against Eminem (and that’s just a maybe). But the way he rhymes and plays with words, damn lyrical genius.

Here are some pics from my bunk ass camera phone:

Talib Kweli

Bam! Fucking surprise performance with Jean Grae (my second favorite female MC, ever. Second to Lauryn Hill of course..and no, L Boogie is not racist against white folks).

Nice Chicago Folks at Union Square Park

Black Star. At this point, Mos Def was yelling “Lordddddddddd” right before breaking into Definition. The song that really defined my love for hip hop. Back in 96, hearing the song (I sent it before so check your iTunes). I think this song epitomizes the peak of underground hip hop. What kind of sucks it that Mos Def totally fucking hogged it up at the end of the night; doing his eclectic shit and not doing as many classics or Black Star shit. Mos, you’re artistic and talented, but learn from your homie Common’s “Electric Circus” album. You can’t do what Andre 3000 does, end of story.

This is the group that the dude Chris is managing. BCTS or something like that. I’d say use the acronym only after they’ve gained more fanfare; until then when people hear your name all they’ll be able to think about is ordering a sandwich with bacon, lettuce and tomato. Add some vocals. And as for the sexy saxophone solos, if you ain’t John Coltrane, then you’re Kenny G.

Res performing at the Double Door. Funny thing, her song “Golden Boy” is about Mos Def, who actually fathered her baby. And they were in the same city at different venues. Maybe they hooked up.

I'm Not Trying to Get Married

2007-07-24T12:20:00.000-07:00

July 23, 2007 – I’m Not Trying to Get Married

So rather than write out all the events the unfolded in Chicago on the daily, I figured, “screw it. There’s so much work I have to do; no time.” Hmm, I’m wrapping up the trip right now on the flight back to LA and crap, I must say that I really miss home and all the beautiful women that reside there. Now I know what Biggie meant when I said, “Going back to Cali strictly for the women, weather and the weed.” First impressions of Chicago were whatever. As for the city, I always had this preconceived notion of the city being really nothing more than a giant, robusto cigar. For some reason, I don’t know, it just came across as stale, stuffy and like charcoal heather gray for me.

And I was definitely wrong. The people there are definitely big-pimping. Like some people were just as wide as they were tall. As I was walking down the airport terminal I started to imagine how I would’ve escaped death if some type of catastrophe were to occur. I’d simply find a big mama and just roll her ass down the terminal to clear a path, a la giant boulder in Indiana Jones. Fuck, Meghan is going to hate me for this, but I’m kinda calling the city “The Land of the 20 mores.” I’m not going to explain the meaning behind it those that like to bust my balls will know what I’m saying.

However, the people are very nice and very warm and genuine. Walking out of the El, like four people said “good morning” to me. I was like, “Wait a minute, what choo want from me?” Yes, the people are nice. And the city is very clean and pretty safe (considering the size of it). Would I want to live there? I don’t know. I will live there if it means I’ll get a job and learn and build and do good work, sure. Someone told me it has all the good things about a city without any of the bad; completely true. I was able to get around the city with no clue or no map, everything is explained in clear, concise detail. The coffee shops there don’t mind if you were to stay there for hours. The food in the coffee shop I was at was bomb grub. It has the neighborhoody feel that lacks in New York.

The city must have known that I was coming from New York and decided to bring out the fine china for me. I left the thunderstorms of Manhattan and came to find that the weather in Chicago was insanely nice all weekend. The loft I stayed at just doesn’t exist in LA (check out the blog for more pictures of Chicago and what I found so right and wrong with it). The loft was really, really, reely (like fishing reel) big. In comparison to Chiat’s office, I would say the living room alone was bigger than the Playstation/Visa area. Right in the heart of Wicker Park and that wasn’t including the rooftop, 6 bedrooms, second living room area and huge ass kitchen…in the heart of Wicker Park. I was at a park music festival and tired, I placed my ears to hear the earth talk to me. It said, “Chicago is a great city. Look! Believe us! You should want to live here! We’re the best of both worlds!”

I’ll tell you what the city is. It’s the perfect girlfriend. It’s compatible and easy going, doesn’t complain or nag, shares the same values as you, lets you hang out with the guys, and has an aspirin and a glass of water waiting for you at your bedside when you go out drinking. Chicago is the girl you marry. In the end, Chicago will leave you with Dockers, a green lawn underneath your feet and a baseball cap to cover furrowed brows.

New York. New York is the girl you leave your wife for. I would love to explain more but that’s really the essence of the city. You can’t qualify it any further. New York is the girl that will absolutely ruin your life and leave you in shambles. It’s as constant as a river; where fishing for stability will leave you with nothing more than a rumbling belly. New York is Scarlet, New York is Sharon Stone in Casino, New York is “The Widow.” But at the end of it, you’ll be left an evolved person that carries no regrets.

LA. Los Angeles is the high school sweetheart that you never marry, but never quite get over, either. It’s the city that will mold you and help you become the person you are. It’s that whiff of Victoria’s Secret body spray that will mentally cue you in to all those distant memories that have since long become extinct. It’s the burger joint you drive through where you had the first date. It’s the highway you sped on when you were damn, fucking pissed off at her. Damn. Fucking. Peest (off, mang).

Ha! But I left Chicago and ended this trip in the best way possible. Riding the train, 5 in the morning, where the ketchup sun was young enough for me to challenge it to a staring contest. I really enjoyed my stay, and I would love to do some good work there. I would let her court me, I would let her into my heart. But in all honesty, I’m not trying to get married.

I'm Full Of Chlorophyll

2007-07-24T12:11:00.000-07:00

July 21, 2007 – I’m Full of Chlorophyll

Now that I’m in Chicago my idea of solitude is solidifying more and more with each passing train stop. I’ve been up and down New York and Chicago and of course Los Angeles; perhaps the three most interesting cities in the most important country in the world and I’m still left in search of something I can’t quantify. I’ve found many places inhabitable and I’ve sought shelter and was able to find it with relative ease. But refuge and a place to call home…still yet to be found. And the only thing the spurred this entire entry was that I was talking to Ted and Meghan about whatever this morning. They were talking to me from across the room, their bodies in front of the windows with only their silhouettes distinguishing one from the other. And it was a weird revelation and a great analogy as to how I see myself in relation to the world -- it’s the same existence and the same exchange but it’s much different in terms of perspective. One party sees people in striking detail – their textures and colors and what not. However, the other party really doesn’t know anything more than the basic shape and surface of the other. Same existence, different understanding. And the more I think and the more I write the further I perpetuate myself into this enigmatic status. I’m digging myself a hole with my words.

I am seeking comfort and solace. But in reality, I’ve abandoned all of it for the sake of clarity. And looking back three years when I made that decision I can say that I’ve learned a lot about the world and life and myself, certainly. And I can’t really say I regret it; of course I don’t. Imagine if I were still with M_____, what kind of miserable life would that have been? Imagine if I were still with D_____, even still I think it’d be miserable and boring.

But I don’t know. I think it’s tough and difficult. Clarity is such an endless pursuit because even if you do see the forest through the trees; if the brush clears, then what? Eventually your eyes will make it through to the desert, then the tundra and frozen landscape. It’s infinite. It doesn’t end. My hand is on a calculator, and I’m frantically entering 1 + 1 =, =, =. And even with the exponential growth of it; with me typing in 1 x 10, =, =, =. It helps me gather more information and develop a better understanding of the intangible, but damn me and my pursuit for something that can never be captured. What the fuck did I get myself into?

Happiness, on the other hand, something very fucking hard to obtain, but at the same time available to all. That’s what I love about it, I guess. There’s no price affixed to it, it may cost the smile of a stranger in passing, it may even cost the price of a huge ol’ yacht or whatever. It’s wonderful and torturous at the same time and it’s a damn hard thing to obtain; it’s not a journey, it’s a fucking accomplishment, you’ve slain the dragon. Happiness is great and I love it and I feel it going through my veins but I’m not it as much/often as people may believe. It’s warm and fuzzy, but then it does breed content and complacency. Or maybe I should flip it; I’m not content. Happiness is something I don’t necessarily seek as much as I do necessarily long for it.

I’m not sure what the answer is, really. I fanatically observe the behavior, values and actions of people who I think are happy. Being the cynical person that I am, I’m still hanging on to this notion that all happy people are really just sad folks wearing great poker faces. But you know, the old folks that smile at you, there’s a lot to be learned from that mere act, alone. I don’t know what the lesson is, but fuck I want to know what it was that got them to work all those facial muscles with such natural ease to make them smile. And in comparison, what it was that brings the grumpiness out of the older men. Maybe a lifetime of suppression and emotional restraint? Maybe complacency? Either way, in life one experiences an enormous amount of turbulence and ups and downs and in betweens, but they end up in opposite ends of the spectrum. Surely, it must be more chaotic and way more complex than just a roll of the dice.

But not being content with what you have definitely sucks, too. Maybe I should just accept the imperfections of the world and what’s wrong with life and what can’t be fixed and just say, “fuck it.” Maybe if I released my grip, happiness will fall into the palms of my hands the way autumn leaves fall when there is no more chlorophyll to nourish the tree it came from. But fuck! I’m burdened with this clarity thing, and I’m being held captive by my own unrealistic belief that I can still change the world and make just a world that isn’t just. Happiness is nothing more than a knot in the rope of clarity; but when you’re climbing vertically up that motherfucker, that slight pause can certainly be a welcome relief.

I try to free my mind and it flies like a poorly folded paper airplane; bursting into confetti that falls onto the shoulders of the masses, celebrating joyously with no clue to the tragedy that took place just moments before.

But again, realism never fazed me and I’m full of chlorophyll. And I guess until the tree that is my world dwindles or gets chopped down I’m going to keep on trying to fucking be relevant to it.

"Kidney Thief" - P.O.S.

2007-07-20T10:22:00.001-07:00

July 20, 2007

What up, everyone?

Sitting here in Wicker Park right now just maxing out. You know, just doing some coffee shop contemplating; trying to beat out existing shit. Anyway, Jerico’s on it with the Common and Lily Allen shit:

http://www.rappersiknow.com/?p=82

Another thing. Raleigh, thanks for all the praise on my write ups (and what not) and thanks for forwarding the ones you like to your friends. Jerico, thanks also and all that good stuff. Well, it was only a matter of time, but with you guys helping me build my confidence; I think it’s enough to start blogging my shit for the MASSES! So the thing is, all these shops that I’m showing my book to are a little concerned that I might not be able to form a sentence, so I need to erase any doubt for those cats. And on top of that, they all want to know other creative pursuits outside of advertising that I partake in, and so I need to exploit this list for a second.

Insane, I tell you. All these things that I’ve done for the love of Hip Hop (the street team shit, concert promoting and this email newsletter). I’ve done it all simply for my love for it (imagine if I was a Jesus freak). Now, I think it might come full circle and help me now that I’m in need. If you guys can tell your friends I’d greatly appreciate it. I’ll always to keep it true, always talk to only a few of you guys (my friends), and always send what I send or type what I type for my own self-expression. Any momentum I can get will be great, so that way I can throw it in their faces like, “Yo, I don’t do viral, homie. Muthafucka, I am viral. Now take off your kicks before you come into my house, sucka. Wait, what the fuck do you expect? Just because I grew up Mexican and listen to ‘Black music?’ I’m fucking Asian bitch (I’ll pull down my pants to prove it).”

Here’s a link to my blog. Share it with friends, bookmark it, masturbate to it:

http://sonnyred.blogspot.com/

Lord, kill me. Anyway, also...Little Brother’s blog on Myspace is funny as hell..Phonte is crazy. That’s the only thing I really check up on. Also, my blog is really more me on a TLC tip. But I swear, soon I’ll stop being full of my own bullshit and start talking about the music again. Alright, fuck, let’s see. For today I need to talk about P.O.S. A few days ago, I emailed Roy and the homie Jay:

Hey Roy,

How you doing? Anyway, fuck...that POS shit is fucking dope. You gotta burn it for Jay. Jayfagski, here’s a sample....

Anyway Roy, big time surprise....i love that shit, big time. Fucking dope ass hip hop. Thanks for the hookup.

-- Roe

Well, whatever. I like the way he attacks the mic. I like it. It’s raw and honest; like Slug...actually kinda sounds like him and bit his style (would you agree/disagree)? That age old,, “I’m better than...” technique of rhyming doesn’t really apply anymore. Besides, I don’t think any artist is going to come out anytime soon and flip that angle in a way that will make me go, “Holy shit. I never heard that metaphor/simile before! Fuck, did you hear that? He said he’s so dope he’s like a Kraft Jet Puft Marshmallow and that other MCs are like the fake muthafucking Swiss Miss ones that only expand when they’re soaked in hot water. That’s gangsta. Next level shit, son! Yes indeedy! No doubt, no doubt. Word is bond, yo!” Well, I think he does sound a bit like Slug and I’m sorry if you disagree, but I might have to argue that to the point where we get all mad at each other and like just greet each other with head nods from now on, instead of the hip hop etiquette dap/rocks style. And then maybe just get drunk and just apologize to you later? I hate it when I argue my self-righteous views, it’s just they’re always wrong. I fucking argue it to death and then when I apologize, often times it’s not even truly an apology-apology. I really do feel sorry, but I have baggage and justification with it. Like when someone apologizes, it should be: “I’m sorry.”

But most of the time, when people apologize they say, “I’m sorry. It’s just that....” or “I’m sorry, but it’s because....”

No, cut that shit. I’m sorry if this cat doesn’t sound like Slug-o.

I only said it because...because motherfucker does sound like Slug! Fuck you, fucking diarrhea breath.

-- Sonnyred

"Books From Boxes" - Maximo Park

2007-07-20T09:24:00.000-07:00

July 19, 2007

Hello All,

Funny chain of events took place over the past 24 hours. As soon as I thought I was leaving New York, I find myself here, at JFK, at 5:47 in the morning (I left the Upper West Side at 3 fucking am, yes it took this long to get here....through all the subways, transfers, airport security, breakfast burrito consumption) waiting to catch a 6:45 flight to Chicago. Told you, so. Somehow the children’s book style sun with its puffy cheeks blew some of those storm clouds a little too hard and my flight got cancelled. I called JetBlue and said, “Shit, that kind of sucks. I sorta have some interviews set up, also.” She apologized and said that I was one of the nice ones and thanked me for understanding. I guess I should’ve lashed out at her like, “What choo mean the flight is cancelled? Get me a damn pterodactyl (hey, that’s how spellcheck said it’s spelled...also a nod to Heidi) and let it sink its talons into my spine and transport me there if you have to.”

Then I hung up the phone and imagined that if I were living in a Disney movie, I’d somehow ride an Indian elephant with ivory tusks down Lexington Ave. with just enough time for me to catch a yellow and red striped hot air balloon. Somehow, after elevating a few hundred feet, for some reason barely escaping the clutches of a clumsy pair of criminals I’d release sandbags onto their heads and they’d sprawl out onto the ground (somehow, managing to escape death from the direct blow).

Well, I wish I could say that there was a more dramatic ending to my stay here. Sorry Roy, I was on my way to Crif Dogs but some steam pipe burst and killed someone and created this gaping hole in the street and suspended subway service for many hours. Though, I’m sure they’re delicious, I’m just not sure if they’re worth the hassle of walking down 80 blocks, having some unlucky guy die and making millions of hurried New Yorkers even more hurried and pissy. But then, I’m sure the hot dogs are good. I’ll just take your word for it. I’m sorry New York.

Also, the person whose place I’m staying at didn’t come home at the usual time from work last night so I was thinking, “Holy moly. The only person I know in New York is the person that fell victim to the steam.” Needless to say....screw it, it’s needless so I won’t say it. Either way, the nerve of me to think that even the most random of events are somehow related to me. Kind of like the way sports fans think their team will lose if they don’t watch the game. Admittedly, I did briefly think to myself, “Wow, this thunderstorm took place because I’m destined to live here. This dude died so that I couldn’t have Crif Dogs! I wonder what would’ve happened if I went there. Maybe I would’ve stepped on gum or run into a drunken Mike Tyson in a dark alley.....(lordy lord).

Well either way, I have written anything too specific about the songs because the way I process them is rather painstaking and meticulous. The way I really like to listen to music for the first time is to hole myself in a wall, throw on some decent headphones that allows me to hear every little sound, pull up the lyrics and turn off the lights. It’s sensory deprivation and sensory emulsion all at the same time. This music thing, I seldom read articles about them, look them up on myspace or anything like that. It’s about me and my intimate relation with the song. I do look up meanings though, just to take a lot of the guesswork out of it. But lately my personal endeavors have seeped through onto my list and I apologize if I don’t paint as vividly as I used to. Whatever, it’s my list but I’ll try to really seek out dope songs. Truth is, I just haven’t been too impressed with anything that has come my way lately. But alas, I’ll try. Well, I think Maximo Park fits in the same pair of shoes as The Kooks, but I think Maxi-mo-betta. I’ll think you’ll enjoy it nonetheless.

(Sigh)...the narcissism of altruism.

Morsels of human truth, free of charge.

-- Sonnyred

"Oh No" - The Concretes

2007-07-18T14:49:00.000-07:00

July 18, 2007

So I guess this is it, my last day in the big “Manzana” (shit, see what ethnic food does to you? It doesn’t only give you smelly breath and make your pores smell like microscopic garbage disposals, it also makes you roll your R’s and shimmy when you pronounce ethnic words). It was kind of peculiar, actually. I’m in amidst of reading this novel on I-don’t-know-what-yet but it takes place during WWII and as I went to bed, bombs were being dropped and stuff. Well, this morning I woke up to a crazy thunderstorm. And when you’re half asleep/half awake it really fucks with your head. I mean, I thought I was in WWII (just out of curiosity, do you guys read that as “WW2,” “World War 2,” or “WW Eleven?”) with bombs dropping! I woke up and was like, “holy shit, where the fuck is the attic? The Nazis are coming. I’ll kick Anne Frank the fuck out if I have to. I have so much more to live for!”

Anyway, guess what? After going on yelp.com to type in “cheap food” I found a bunch of little places that offered good food. There’s a place in Chinatown called “Fried Dumpling” where I got 2 veggie eggrolls, 5 dumplings, 4 pork buns and a cup of soy juice for less than $3.75. Dude, that’s cheap! Then I went on to a falafel spot where I got a pita and cup of tamarind juice for $4. Yesterday, I was walking around Brooklyn and got a beer and a small pizza for $3. Holy moly, no wonder there are so many fat bums in the city. I think I’m returning to LA with 4 stomachs, like a cow. Who knows, maybe in a few years I’ll be successful and type in “food expensivier” and go to those places where people with good credit eat. Or maybe in 10 years, I’ll even type in “food, moexpensivethanamothafucka” and eat like, Mermaid lasagna or Jessica Alba’s toenail clippings. Tell me you’ve never used your toenail clippings as toothpicks and I’ll tell you you’re impractical. Dude, it’s fucking man vs. wild. If I was in the Amazon basin and I just hunted down and roasted a baboon, and its blue-pink cheeks got stuck in between my teeth, first thing I’d do is go for my pouch of toenail clippings and pick the shit out of those fucking teeth.

Now that I think back on this morning’s thunderstorm, it now seems to be more than just shitty New York weather. This morning, I heard the city cry for the first time…perhaps for me not to leave. I can only hope so.

-- Sonnyred

"Subbing for Eden" - Pinback

2007-07-18T14:42:00.000-07:00

July 16, 2007

Hello All,

Hope you had a good weekend. Unfortunately, I just couldn’t afford to get drunk. However I did get a chance to get my photography on. I was walking around the West Village and was like, “holy shit, I can smell the salt in the air.” I swear, this overwhelming of familiarity just came over me; and in between blinks, I swore I could see Andrew and Go snaking all my waves again. Yes, it was like a strobelight nightmare.

Well, fuck, I miss the ocean. I feel a little bad — knowing that I’m going to return as a different person. Yes, I now have a vagina and my name is Roberta. Just kidding (but can’t all guys use some vag at their disposal)? I also think I’m going to quit smoking weed, which is insane because, well, because I fucking love smoking weed.

Well, my time is running out in New York and I see how big and vast and monster truck it is; and I do like it. I’ve never eaten so much bomb ass, ethnic food. I won’t miss being cramped on the subway in rush hour though -- you have no idea how many crotches I’ve sniffed while riding the 6 downtown. Some were even unintentional and I couldn’t help but feel like I was on “To Catch A Predator.”

Anyway, so the shops here all want to know other creative pursuits I’m in and I was like, “holy shit. Other than ads, I guess I have this music thing. So I think I might go public with it and set up a blog? I don’t know, do you think posting this stuff with the songs will buy me any favors to showcase my writing/personality/pain/anguish? I’d greatly appreciate the feedback. Either way, today’s song is a depiction of the beautiful ocean that awaits me back home. It’s dope here, I can’t stress it enough..but fuck, a public pool as your only option? That’s, I don’t know...it’ll be hard to accept that the weird thing I just felt wasn’t indeed, seaweed.

Well, here’s a pic I took of the Hudson. I never saw so many guys, sprawled out on grassy knolls, with thongs on and Rollerblades. It was great. The courting process was like a Bee dance. Single guys would be at the edge of the pier. Guys would cruise by on Rollerblades (and thongs....lord knows where the bowties were) and do some spins and twirls in front of the single guys to impress them and see who would take notice. Then it’s like, one quick look and BAM!!!! They swoop in on then and hit them up. I tried imagining what the Rollerblader would have said to the bait, but I would only think that it’d include the word “sailor” in the first sentence and somehow end with a snarled upper lip and a “purrrrrrrrr” -- the kind that would send chills down anyone’s spine. ANYONE’S spine.

On a related note, here’s a pic of a Plastic Company. Peculiar name for the business...

(Maybe for the aforementioned Rollerbladers to slip by airport security undetected?)

Ok, well, since a few of you now don’t know/remember how gorgeous of a person I am, I’m going to end this email with a self-portrait I took with my camera phone. Here I am in the Flatiron district, confirming the “best” Cuban restaurant in Manhattan (Café Habana). And yes, the diarrhea from this restaurant will still taste a million times better than Versailles. I wish I had my camera, camera. It would’ve turned out a lot cooler, and I would’ve been able to Photoshop Vin Diesel’s arms on me.

Either way, enjoy.

-- Sonnyred

"Twinkle Tune" - Eberg

2007-07-18T14:39:00.000-07:00

July 13, 2007

Hello All,

So I’m wrapping up my first full week at New York and so far so good. I was eating “the best burger” in town tonight in the East Village and I must say that I’d rather inhale someone’s In-N-Out burp over this self-proclaimed best burger. I really like the city, yes. And NYC is better than LA in many aspects (art, culture, music, drinking, insanely beautiful women with that somewhere to go persona, etc). But I’ll tell you right now, LA is the bomb when it comes to burgers, sushi, autonomy and Mexican food.

That’s for real. I bet the tacos here use like Velveeta cheese or something. Either way, tonight isn’t one of those long, drawn out prose nights for me. I’m just too lazy. The weather has wisened up a lot, though. It was beautiful today. The laundry here costs $2.50 a load. That’s pretty insane. And the toilets here don’t believe in those paper ass gaskets, either. Even the Chiat New York office doesn’t have it. And a roll of paper towels costs $2. That’s for one roll. And it’s not 700 thread count pima cotton either. Just plain ol’ coniferous I imagine. But tonight at the bar, I heard Cat Power. Cat Power!! What the fuck is that magical creature of a coincidence? My favorite artist in a random joint? It’s like going to get a pack of smokes and running into Clay Aiken. Dream come true. And that’s that. I’m fucking tired of beach culture. Ok, I love beach (intentional bad grammar), I love beach activities, I hate beach culture. I hate wearing board shorts just because. I fucking hate those drinking games that place at those bars near the beach (don’t make me rant about drinking games, I hate them all and I’m sure I’ll lose a lot of friends if I were to go on an unadulterated rant about them...yes yes...just because I don’t like it doesn’t mean blah blah...blah...ok here goes a little blip). You play games to drink a lot? Yet you win by making the opponent drink more than you? Why can’t we just sit around on some milk crates with some music and talk about music and drink? Tell you what....tonight I think I’mma order the friend combo with extra drinks, but let’s substitute the finger pointing, hoorahs and chest bumps for some actual engaging conversations that delve into each other’s souls and further solidifies the bond between all of us? Or let’s get drunk and massage each other and see where the night takes us? Or let’s go cut tags off mattresses or club some baby seals for shits and giggles?]

Either way, today’s song is the result of what happens when My Little Pony writers go on acid trips and a piece of dental floss gets frayed in their teeth and they can’t get it out (no matter how hard they try). That parenthetic comment is called “playing up the drama.” The quotation marks was the verbal, witty equivalent of wearing black, plastic framed glasses and salt and pepper colored hair.

Enjoy

-- Sonnyred

Oh yeah, other things I hate about beach culture is fucking JIMMY BUFFET! And I have to admit, I used to love them, but FUCK SUBLIME. And I have to admit, Like, fucking jukeboxes at home have fucking Jimmy Buffet, Sublime, all those classic rock joints, and like Bob Marley Legend (fuck that album too, now). You seriously going to tell me that good music hasn’t come out since then? Fuck you! You’re telling me music hasn’t been the same since “Cheeseburger in Paradise?” Fuck you! You going to tell me that “Santeria” is the only song you can sing along to? Fuck you! That shit was good when it was relevant; but sorry, it doesn’t deserve the longevity that Beethoven or Bob Marley or even Elvis has. And if it does, I don’t think SWEET CAROLINE would be conducive to a good time. Like, I never heard DESPERADO by The Eagles and automatically wanted to get all freaky or wish I could do the splits like Jean Claude Van Damme. But here, out of nowhere I hear Cat Power, Wolf Parade, Tribe Called Quest, and Bob Marley’s Songs of Freedom, like what??!?!?! I must say, this place has dumps like a truck truck.

Thighs like what, what.

-- Sonnyred

"All Fires" - Swan Lake

2007-07-18T14:37:00.000-07:00

July 12, 2007

My relationship with the big, Granny Smith apple is slowly turning into my relationship with the big, Fuji apple. It’s getting better with each passing day. It was weird today. It was super hot again (I’m thinking I should just wear a suit made of sponges) and very humid, and then I’m just hanging out and all of a sudden a ginormous (by the way, that word just got added to the dictionary) thunderstorm breaks out and people are running around like cockroaches with the lights turned on.

Anyway, I just came back from a bar where I had three Guinesses and the bartender treated me to the fourth. The city just doesn’t front. They know how much it costs to live and drink here and they’ll subsidize you if your intentions are virtuous. That’s pretty great. I’ve frequented Abbott Kinney and all that jazz for many years now and ran up $150+ tabs and never once had a drink on the house. Well, I think it hit me last night, cruising for some cheap, ethnic eats around the East Village (I settled on Roman cuisine in the form of a Chicken Caesar Wrap) that I am surely falling in love with the city (could it be true, could it?). Sure it’s sweltering hot; I cannot stress it enough, it’s hotter than an Arizona rooftop (ok, I stole that from a hip hop line). It’s actually more like those movies, actually. Like New York is this badass person (Avril Lavigne, perhaps?) and I’m a little nerd. I hate it and what it stands for (like....HEAT for example...I fucking hate it...I want to gouge out the eyes of the sun). But just like the movies, you kind of just see it and accept it for what it is -- and there’s this pulsating feeling in your head; what used to be the stressed out vein on your forehead slowly becoming the pulsating feeling in your heart) and you have to acknowledge it...you want to be a part of it. Every day, riding on the train I feel like there’s a movement taking place and I want to be a part of it. God, New York is great. And a friend once told me, “If you can make it in New York you can make it anywhere.” I totally agree, but in my head, I always countered with, “Shit, if you get all of those New Yorkers, 99% of them wouldn’t make it where I’m from.” In fact, 99% of people from my city don’t make it out. New York is its own race, sure, but I’ve shown up in shackles and I’m ready to bring the heat. The heat in terms of determination, not in terms of moist testicles.

Either way, like the badass that New York is, there is a rumbling in my heart for the city. And perhaps before I leave, I’ll get the chance to fuck the shit out of it. But at least for this night (tonight), it did end with a sweaty, slobbering kiss.

-- Sonnyred

ALL FIRES

You have a father
There is another
You have a sister
There are no brothers.

You have good friends
You have a lover
When friendships end
You will still love her
But it’s Teresa they love the best.

There was a flood
A world of water
The mason’s wife
Swam for her daughter.

One thousand people
Did what they could.
They found the steeple
And tore out the wood.

Five hundred pieces
Means five hundred float.
One thousand people means
Five hundred don’t.
And it’s Teresa they love the best.

I’ve said it before,
And I’ll say it again.
All fires have to burn alive.
All fires have to burn alive.

From near his heart,
He took a rib.
All fires have to burn alive to live.
From near his heart,
He took a rib.
All fires have to burn alive to live.
So it’s Teresa that I love the best.
------ End of Forwarded Message

"Heinrich Maneuver" - Interpol

2007-07-18T14:31:00.000-07:00

July 10, 2007

So, being in New York now for my fourth day, and experiencing “the grind” for two of them, I have mixed feelings about the city. First of all, it’s fucking hot. No two ways about it. The weather is Freddy Krueger and it’s really such a bitch for me. Last night, I stayed up till 3:00 in the morning. Not because I was out partying with East Village hipsters or doing lines of coke off their butts, but because it was sweltering hot (and I would imagine those East Villagers’ butts would have smelled like rotten eggs.)

Last night, I learned a new sleeping technique--for the next few weeks I’ll have to surrender my usual “sleeping on your belly with your arms spread over your head like you just got caught stealing a VCR.” I’ll also have to abort my much loved fetal position (pun intended). So, my last resort is what I call the, “Gimme an X” position. It helps if you’re a cheerleader, you simply lie on your back and expose every possible nerve ending: armpits, palms of hands and bottoms of feet. I would imagine it’d be even more effective if you could do the splits so that your asshole gets some nice ventilation. I would imagine that Jean Claude Van Damme wouldn’t have a problem living in New York. Hell, he probably evolved into the position from living in New York; kind of like the way roaches adapt to nuclear fallout.

I also came up with another theory about New York and New York pizza and what makes it so delicious. It’s the sweat and hard work of New Yorkers. Literally. It’s actually a great filtration process. The sweat from the people that live here roll of their bodies and trickle down into the groundwater. In turn, the reclaimed sweat water used to make the pizza dough is actually what makes it so delicious. It’s kinda like slow drip coffee, only you start with sweat and end up with a peetzuh pie.

I had a lot of time to do a lot of thinking since I’m sick, running round the city and lame. Most of you might not get this one but I’ll say it anyway. If you don’t want to read it, skip this paragraph and breathe in some of that ocean air for me. Ok, well I also devised a plan to settle all the East coast hip hop beef. You know, Queens is like “Hip hop started here.” Bronx is like, “No, it started here.” Brooklyn is just kinda all peace about it. Well instead of bickering about what borough is harder or tougher or more original. They should address the heat here. Like, if that was the foundation of the argument, they’d all be winners. Queens can be like, “Yo sun, it’s hotter than Jean Claude Van Damme doing the splits here.” Bronx can be like “Yo kid, it’s hotter than the rotten egg butt smell of an East Villager out here.” And Brooklyn can be like, in the most peaceful way possible, “It is indeed hot.” And then all of a sudden Bin Laden will appear like, “I just played a round of golf with Dick Cheney in Arizona and it is indeed hot.” Oh well, at least it’s not Las Vegas. Shit, I think I’d rather live in Orange County than Las Vegas.

What else? Oh yeah, I’ve been sleeping on Matt’s floor because his couch gets hot easily and my body plays hot potato all night (after playing couch potato all afternoon). I think tonight I’m going to rub Vick’s Vapo Rub all over the bottom of my feet and place it in front of a fan and see how that goes.

"Gold In the Air of Summer" - Kings of Convenience

2007-07-18T13:20:00.001-07:00

July 8, 2007

Hello All,

Hope you all had a good weekend. This is going to be more self-serving than usual because this will actually supplement my journal entry tonight. How is it so far? I must say, the weather here sucks (95 today with 30% humidity). It’s so hot here you feel like an Ironman triathlete without even moving. I have no idea how I’m going to do it tomorrow, on the subway with all these packed people wearing wool suits. Lord, hang me. I miss the ocean, I would rather spend a day surfing with my friends than going to a concert/farmers market/bar/etc). But I see the forest through the brick and mortar, and I have to say I love it and a few chapters of my life should be written here. If only I can bring with me the prevailing winds of the west and maybe a handful of you guys, also.

Last night I had dinner with Matt, Libby and Jen (both on this list) and a stranger I met on my flight and it was all good and stuff but I couldn’t stop thinking, “Never would I have thought fate would have it that we’d be eating here, together thousands of miles away (especially with Libby living here, and Jen and I in LA).” And that’s the thing about New York. It’s a place where destinies manifest. Like, we witnessed some poor guy suffer a seizure a few tables over and I had a slight revelation. I’m starting to figure out that the beauty of New York is that it’s so condensed. And with millions of souls occupying such a small space, fate visits — far more frequent and drastic (or subtle) than anywhere else in the world. Needless to say, we got super trashed. The shower pressure this morning was insane and sobering; with the might of the water serving to scold me for my antics the night before.

-- Sonnyred

GOLD IN THE AIR OF SUMMER

Without giving anything away,
I can say it's by the sea.
It's a house that used to be the home of a friend of mine.
Without giving anything away,
you'll find ships inside of bottles,
and the garden's overgrown,
the house is white but the paint is coming off.
I didn't know if you wanted to,
when I came to pick you up.
You didn't even hesitate,
and now you and me are on our way.
I think I've brought everything we need,
don't look back,
don't think of the other places you should have been
it's a good thing that you came along with me.
Gold in the air of summer,
you'll shine like gold in the air of summer.