Amoeblog

Icky Thump

Posted by Miss Ess, June 21, 2007 04:57pm | Post a Comment
white stripes jack meg whiteIcky Thump, it's a fantastic record.  If you read my blog, you arewhite stripes jack meg white already sick of hearing about the White Stripes, so I'll make my comments brief. 


The songs: I heard 'em, absorbed 'em and immediately felt like I'd already been hearin' and lovin' 'em my whole life.  If that isn't a sign of a great record, I don't know whatall is. 

Jack White knows what's real and he knows about integrity and that's a large part of why the band remains untouchable.

jack white cold mountain

From the Onion, 2003:

O:
  Do you see more people getting turned on to the blues in the future?

Jack White: I hope so. I think it's the pinnacle of songwriting. It's never been topped, and I don't think it ever will be. It sort of accidentally broke songwriting down to its three basic components: storytelling, melody, and rhythm. And that's the way I see it. It's so truthful, it can't be glamorized. If people really love music, they're going to start being drawn toward honesty, and if they're drawn to that, it's a direct line right back to Charley Patton and Son House. I'm very skeptical of musicians who say they love music and don't love the blues. It's like someone saying they don't like The Beatles: It makes you think they're in it for the wrong ideas.

I think I'm in Love!

Posted by The Bay Area Crew, June 21, 2007 11:11am | Post a Comment
I aint sure if this has anything to do with Amoeblog, but when a girl feels that special love for a man, sometimes she don't think straight. 'Specially when she gay and all that.



I know, I know. I spend far too much time blogging everywhere about my man crush of the moment, for there are many. But looka that man up there, GO SAINTS! How can anyone resist ... especially when he has brought the HAHAHAHA into your life week after week? Also, okay okay, I gotta weakness for a gap. A teeth gap, baby.

Maybe he'll come by for some kind of charity auction thing as they do in the Hollywood Amoeba and then, magically, this blog will be justified. Word?

Also? I love you Brently, even though you don't even know my name. Sigh. (It aint no thing, I just wanted to sound like a country song for a second.)

Brently, rawr:
 

A hug for BillyJam

Posted by The Bay Area Crew, June 21, 2007 10:40am | Post a Comment
Grabbing up Billy on the quick, and taking you on the wayback machine: there was a place called Leopold where all folks came together for the MUSIC, and no one played any gang bullshit in them walls. Why not? Not totally sure. Could it happen today? Prolly not. Ten years change a world, ten years can erase a street.

The fun and the cameos from old school Leopold Records employees:

Point is, man they had a lot to say about life. Really pure. So, I wish I could embed Kiss Me and I'll Kiss You Back, cause that also had some wonderful staff in it, but whatcha gonna do. Anyway, a shout out to Daria who brought in Hammer when it was tapes in his trunk for commission, and even more so on the long term Yeh Yeah: bringing in the Digital Underground and help blowing them up as well.

Good times, friends. Good times. For those new to the Bay, the scene, whatever you want to call it? Coolest thing was, when Amoeba Berkeley opened up a few blocks from Leopold? It was all love, baby. No sense of competition or us vs. them. How rare is that?? Now, chunklets of us work at Amoeba (woot, wooooooot!) and maybe even own a piece. (Not me, baby!) Kisses to the joynts that do it all for the right reason, including a little shout out to a store in Austin Texas!

The Last Hunter

Posted by phil blankenship, June 21, 2007 12:47am | Post a Comment
 




Vestron Video VA4202

REDRUM, REDRUM: ALL THIS MURDER IS KILLING ME

Posted by Billyjam, June 20, 2007 02:10pm | Post a Comment

Murder is one those words that I hear every day and have for years and years and years, to the point, I fully admit, that I have become totally desensitized to its real meaning. Yep, to me, the more I hear the word murder, and especially the more I read it in yet another newspaper report, the more and more detached I seem to become from it. It has lost its initial intended meaning to me. In fact, right now as I type this and just think of the word MURDER in my head, I cannot help but hear the refrain from that classic 1993 dancehall reggae hit by Chaka Demus & Pliers, "Murder She Wrote," echoing happily in my skull: "murder she wrote, nah nahnah, murrrrder she wrote." So, to me, murder or that six letter word spelled backwards -- redrum (popularized by The Shining) -- is just another empty, meaningless word, or, even worse, alternately, it is a sexy catch-phrase, repeated in songs I hum, the theme of entertaining movies I watch, video games I play, books I read, and juicy headlines in morning newspapers I read as I sip my comforting coffee. So ultimately murder to me (and maybe to you too?) is just another hollow disposable word -- nothing more, nothing less. Unless, unless, that is, of course, that the word murder is directly connected to me personally or to somethe shiningone close to me.

So as I sat on the BART the other morning reading a small article in the Bay Area section of the San Francisco Chronicle under the heading "Two Murders In Oakland Over The Weekend," about a couple of unrelated fatal street shootings (one of them "gang related"), to be totally honest, it barely registered in my consciousness, just the same ol, same ol to this jaded soul. Until, that is, the location of one of the murders jumped off the page at me ("Fairview Ave. in the 100 block, north of Lake Merrit"). Damn! I realized that this was directly outside the apartment building where I stay. Later that day from talking to folks in the immediate East Bay neighborhood I found out all the killing's tragic details: that the murder happened on Friday night at 9:25PM. That it took place directly opposite the church (ironically) when a car screeched to a halt in the middle of the street with two guys audibly arguing inside. Both got out, still arguing loudly, and one shot the other nine times before hopping back into the driver's seat to speed away leaving the body of a 29 year old man bleeding to death on that chilly Oakland night.

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