Amoeblog

New "What's In My Bag?" Episode With ODESZA

Posted by Amoebite, June 10, 2015 11:04am | Post a Comment

Odesza

Harrison Mills and Clayton Knight are the duo behind indie electronica project ODESZA. Founded in 2012 prior to graduating Western Washington University, the pair released their debut LP, Summer's Gone, only a short time later to great acclaim. In 2013, ODESZA released their My Friends Never Die EP and opened for Pretty Lights on his Analog Future Tour. A year later, Mills and Knight were back in the studio finishing up their sophomore LP, In Return (Counter Records), before heading out on a U.S. tour that would culminate in a live performance at Coachella. That summer they toured Australia, and returned to the U.S. for a string of dates prior to their second album's release in September 2014. This summer, ODEZSA is set to tour North America and Europe.

ODESZA recently stopped by Amoeba Hollywood to shop around and hang out with our What's In My Bag? crew. Harrison gets things started with a copy of Ain't It Funky by legendary soul man James Brown on vinyl. We at Amoeba are happy to have supplied Harrison with his very first James Brown LP! For Clayton's first pick, he opts for a copy of Dragging A Dead Deer Up A Hill by psychedelic folk musician Grouper. If you're ever in the mood for some ambient-dream pop jams to remind you of Portland, this is the album for you! Harrison also picks up a sweet re-issue of renowned Brazilian singer-songwriter Marcos Valle's self-titled release. If you dig Brazilian artists like Sergio Mendes and Os Mutantes, Marcos Valle needs to be in your record collection. Clayton manages to dig up a vinyl copy of Sam Cooke's Ain't That Good News, which contains his favorite song to listen to, "A Change Is Gonna Come." The guys of ODESZA dig for an array of great music, including electronica classics Daft Punk and French band AIR.

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The Vinyl Frontier #4 - Collecting Black Gospel Music

Posted by Joe Goldmark, March 10, 2015 07:02pm | Post a Comment

Head to the Vinyl Beat website to check out extensive LP label guides and wild cover galleries!

A friend said that gospel music was soul music for black folk and that mainstream soul music was music made for a white audience. The implication being that if you wanted to hear music with real soul, listen to gospel.
 

The Fantastic Violinaires with an incredible live version of “Children Are You Ready.”


Generally speaking, gospel reflected whatever musical trend was happening in R&B music. Gospel music was a little rougher and less polished than secular music, and of course the theme was religious, but otherwise it was relatively easy for artists to cross back and forth between the two styles. And besides, most black pop and soul artists grew up singing in the church.
 

Dorothy Love Coates and the Gospel Harmonettes Dorothy Love Coates and the Gospel Harmonettes, "Thats Enough."


 


The Staple Singers, Mavis Staples The Staple Singers with Mavis Staples on lead vocal, “Sit Down Servant.”

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Record Store Day 2014 A Big Success, And There's Still Hours Left To Shop For Exclusive Record Store Day Releases

Posted by Billyjam, April 19, 2014 05:03pm | Post a Comment

Diggin' in the Hip-Hop 12" Crates At 18 Months - Record Store Day 2014 Amoeba Berkeley

 

"It's been the busiest Record Store Day ever!" reported Amoeba Berkeley employee Gail at 4pm today during Record Store Day. People were lined up outside hours before the 10:30am opening of the Telegraph Ave. store this morning, and once those early shoppers got inside they gravitated towards the sections where they knew their desired RSD releases would be. Then they had to line up to buy them.

"Boy, there was this very long line that started in here and snaked all the way around, up and down those isles, and then on over to the cash register," said Gail, pointing all the way across the store from the world music section, not far from where DJ Inti was spinning some Afrika Bambaataa at that moment, while many shoppers were busy digging in the crates. These shoppers included the little 18 month old girl with her pops in the above video. One happy record shopper I ran into earlier had copped the special Record Store Day clear vinyl three-record set reissue of the Notorious B.I.G.'s Life After Death while another had picked up the RSD reissue of Sam Cooke's final album Ain't That Good News on vinyl. While many titles may already be gone there are still a lot left and several hours of shopping remain on this Record Store Day 2014. So head over to your local record store, especially if it is Amoeba. Amoeba San Francisco closes at 8pm, Amoeba Hollywood closes at 9pm, and Amoeba Berkeley closes at 10pm today.
 

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Four Inch Focus- Foodstuffs

Posted by Mr. Chadwick, March 17, 2012 11:30am | Post a Comment

Check out my collection of fruit labels from 2009, click HERE

(Which sees our author recovering.)

Posted by Job O Brother, March 21, 2010 12:55pm | Post a Comment

Whew! Am I glad to see you! Because it means that it’s a new week, and let me tell you – I used last week until it was nothing but a grey and tattered rag. So I can’t wear last week anymore, but I can use it to clean my car.

But I don’t have a car.

Life is complicated.

Since I arrived in Hollywood five years ago, a young and vibrant crackerjack of a kid with high hopes and boundless dreams, I have used my wit and spunk to cultivate a lifestyle wherein which I spend most of my time hidden away in my spooky study, hunched over my laptop and writing scripts about young and vibrant crackerjack kids which I ceased to resemble about five years ago. It’s a circle of muthuhfuggin’ life.

As a result, I haven’t ever actually developed a circle of friends. I’ve just kind of Yoko Ono’d my way into my boyfriend’s social circle, hoping no one would notice. People from my hometown find this hard to believe.

“Job, how is it that a young and vibrant crackerjack like you hasn’t been surrounded by fawning admirers?” they collectively ask.

“Well gang,” I answer as I mix up a batch of my famous celebrities, “I’ve just been so focused on my writing career. I’ve already met the person I want to be in a relationship with for the rest of my life, so unlike my single friends I’m not driven out to socialize in order to find a mate; plus there’s something about fun and laughter and good times that gives me a tummy ache.”

But it’s 2010, the year I make contact. I’m done with being a reclusive writer. A writer, yes – I’m that by nature more than choice – but reclusive, no. While I love Virginia Woolf’s books more than I love most people, I don’t want to end up like her. I will rise from her watery grave! (metaphorically speaking) I will walk the Earth and meet it’s people! I will… well, I guess I’ll be a Virginia Woolf zombie? (metaphorically speaking)

A zombie needs a room of her own and brains if she is to write.

Ugh… I hate it when I lose control of these blogs. I’d take medication for my ADD but I always get distracted.

Anyway, last week I uncharacteristically went out for St. Patrick’s Day. Like, to a bar. Where people were.

I know, right?

And here’s the kicker: I had a great time! It turns out that fun and laughter and good times are as enjoyable as they say. Who knew? I still got a tummy ache, but that didn’t come until the next day, after consuming more beer than I had blood in my body.


Did you know if you drink too much beer you get drunk? No one tells me these things! And it gets worse: the next day you feel awful. Like… like… (I’m searching for words to describe how it feels.) Like you've been hung… over some… thing. I don’t know. Hung over something. Hung? Forget about it. It feels gross – let’s leave it at that.

I suppose I should have anticipated this would happen considering that the MC of my evening was my new friend, Señor Danger. The name’s a tip off, I suppose.

Señor Danger picked me up in his truck, which is roughly the size of the state from which he came, and we spent the next two hours looking for parking (I didn’t realize we were looking for parking until about an hour in; I just thought we were taking a really complicated route to his house).

We relaxed in his apartment, drinking some preparatory bruskis, and waited for a taxi. It was my first time at his place, so I quickly snooped his book and music collection, which is always the best way to discover who someone is. Titles like How to Win Friends and Influence People into the Back of Your Windowless Van and The Holy Bible, King’s African Riles Version, would perhaps prompt lesser people to question Señor Danger’s character, but I perceived a diamond in the rough.

No, really. There was this rough patch in his linoleum, and stuck inside it was this perfect, glittering diamond. I showed it to Señor Danger and he said I could keep it! I was so excited. He muttered something more about some curse or something: “…life around me… crumbling into ruin… monkey’s face… etc…” I was too hypnotized by the beauty of the gem to pay attention.

His music library consisted of a lot of country and Latin jazz, and that’s something to be proud of.




The taxi came, and after a classic verbal exchange with a heavily accented driver wherein which each party repeated directions – with neither driver nor passenger fully understanding the other – until everyone gave up and assumed it would all work out (which it usually does), we cruised into Boys Town. All the while the taxi radio blared…


...Which is a song that always makes me kind of sad, because they played it at my Grandma's funeral. But I digress...

We met up with a couple of Señor Danger’s pals, St. Andrew and The Nurse.

“Who names their kids these things?” I wondered to myself, until, and to my relief, I remembered that these were just pseudonyms I was making up for my blog.

After a meal of ground beef patties served on rolls of baked bread, garnished with vegetables, melted cheese and various sauces, plus a few more preparatory brews (see a pattern forming here?) we set out in search of a party.

We ended up at some cantina where beers were $1.00 each, which sounds like a great idea until about $20.00 later. Señor Danger and I were accused of being brothers on a few separate occasions (us white people all look alike), and we alternately answered that we were brothers, or that we were lovers, or on at least one awkward occasion, combined these two answers into one.

Time passed. The bars in West Hollywood seem to match the volume dials on their sound systems with their clocks, so with each passing hour the music grows louder, until about one o’clock ante meridiem, when you can feel the music more than you can hear it. Señor Danger noticed a slight trickle of blood dripping from my ear, so we decided to call it a night.

We walked back to his home in Beverly Hills, all the while discussing what was most broken about us, both emotionally and spiritually – a topic that, as a man of Swedish decent, feels as natural to me as discussing weather.


After safely seeing him home, I set out for my own abode on the Miracle Mile. It was a pretty straight-forward route; from Beverly Hills you head east on Wilshire. Even so, and even with the aid of Google maps, I managed to set forth for what would have eventually been Santa Monica, had my compassionate boyfriend not intervened with a late night car rescue. Did you know that when you’re drunk it makes you more likely to make poor decisions? No one tells me these things!

The next morning I had to go to work at Amoeba Music Hollywood. Here’s where working in a record store has a real advantage: if you show up looking hung-over, you pretty much look like everyone else. I spent the day begging my co-workers to select headache-friendly music choices, such as these:






...All of which is stuff you can find in the back room at Amoeba Music.

My search for new friends and experiences outside my home continues. If you’re interested in being rad with me, do drop me a line. (metaphorically speaking)
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