That 70s Mixtape

Back in August, I made a mixtape for Justin's 70s-themed Arcade Fire - The Suburbs listening party and had a blast in making it. I don't think a lot of people paid much attention to the mix since everyone was talking, but in case if you were interested in listening to it again, here it is available via download. It's a .rar file, so you would need a program like winrar or winzip to unpack the file. There's also an exported itunes playlist, so all you have to do is click file-->library-->export playlist. Enjoy


That 70s Mixtape

1) The Beatles - Two of Us
2) Badfinger - No Matter What
3) Brian Eno - St. Elmo's Fire
4) David Bowie - Life on Mars
5) Curtis Mayfield - No Thing on Me (Cocaine Song)
6) Joni Mitchell - Carey
7) Big Star - Thirteen
8) Lou Reed - Satellite of Love
9) David Bowie - Starman
10) The Ramones - Judy is a Punk
11) Big Star - Kangaroo
12) Kraftwerk - The Model
13) Sex Pistols - Anarchy in the UK
14) The Buzzcocks - Orgasm Addict
15) Joy Division - No Love Lost
16) The Specials - Rudy, A Message to You
17) The Clash - Lost in the Supermarket
18) Kate Bush - Wuthering Heights
19) The Undertones - Teenage Kicks
20) Talking Heads - Heaven
21) Fern Kinney - Together We Are Beautiful
22) Joy Division - Atmosphere
23) Kraftwerk - Franz Schubert
24) Kraftwerk - Endless Endless

Losing Haringey

"In those days, there was a kind of fever that pushed me out of the front door, into the pale, exhaust-fumed park by Broadwater Farm or the grubby road that eventually leads to Enfield: turkish supermarket after chicken restaurant after spare car part shop. Everything in my life felt like it was coming to a mysterious close: I could hardly walk to the end of a street without feeling there was no way to go except back. The dates I’d had that summer had come to nothing, my job was a dead end and the rent cheque was killing me a little more each month. It seemed unlikely that anything could hold much longer. The only question left to ask was what would happen after everything familiar collapsed, but for now the summer stretched between me and that moment.

It was ferociously hot, and the air quality became so bad that by the evening the noise of nearby trains stuttered in in fits and starts, distorted through the shifting air. As I lay in the cool of my room, I could hear my neighbours discussing the world cup and opening beers in their gardens. On the other side, someone was singing an Arabic prayer through the thin wall. I had no money for the pub so I decided to go for a walk.

I found myself wandering aimlessly to the west, past the terrace of chip and kebab shops and laundrettes near the tube station. I crossed the street, and headed into virgin territory - I had never been this way before. Gravel-dashed houses alternated with square 60s offices, and the wide pavements undulated with cracks and litter. I walked and walked, because there was nothing else for me to do, and by degrees the light began to fade.

The mouth of an avenue led me to the verge of a long, greasy A-road that rose up in the far distance, with symmetrical terraces falling steeply down then up again from a distant railway station. There were four benches to my right, interspersed with those strange bushes that grow in the area, whose blossoms are so pale yellow they seem translucent, almost spectral; and suddenly tired, I sat down. I held my head in my hands, feeling like shit, but a sudden breeze escaped from the terraces and for a moment I lost my thoughts in its unexpected coolness. I looked up and I realised I was sitting in a photograph.

I remembered clearly: this photograph was taken by my mother in 1982, outside our front garden in Hampshire. It was slightly underexposed. I was still sitting on the bench, but the colours and the planes of the road and horizon had become the photo. If I looked hard, I could see the lines of the window ledge in the original photograph were now composed by a tree branch and the silhouetted edge of a grass verge. The sheen of the flash on the window was replicated by bonfire smoke drifting infinitesimally slowly from behind a fence. My sister’s face had been dimly visible behind the window, and -yes- there were pale stars far off to the west that traced out the lines of a toddler’s eyes and mouth.

When I look back at this there’s nothing to grasp, no starting point. I was inside an underexposed photo from 1982 but I was also sitting on a bench in Haringey.

Strongest of all was the feeling of 1982-ness: dizzy, illogical, as if none of the intervening disasters and wrong turns had happened yet. I felt guilty, and inconsolably sad. I felt the instinctive tug back - to school, the memory of shopping malls, cooking, driving in my mother’s car. All gone, gone forever.

I just sat there for a while. I was so tired that I didn’t bother trying to work out what was going on. I was happy just to sit in the photo while it lasted, which wasn’t for long anyway: the light faded, the wind caught the smoke, the stars dimmed under the glare of the streetlamps. I got up and walked away from the squat little benches and an oncoming gang of kids.

A bus was rumbling to my rescue down the hill, with a great big ‘via Alexandra Palace’ on its front, and I realised I did want a drink after all."

Godspeed Alex Chilton

from the NY Times:
"Alex Chilton, the mercurial if influential rock musician, whose work spanned an eclectic gamut from the soul songs of the Box Tops to the multiple incarnations of his pop band Big Star, has died, The Commercial Appeal of Memphis reported. He was 59. The cause of death is believed to have been a heart attack.

The Commercial Appeal said that Mr. Chilton, who lived in New Orleans, had recently been complaining of health problems, and was taken on Wednesday by paramedics to an emergency room in New Orleans where he was pronounced dead. His death was confirmed to the Commercial Appeal by Jody Stephens, his longtime band mate in Big Star. The group was scheduled to perform on Saturday at the South by Southwest Festival in Austin.

Mr. Chilton, who grew up in Memphis, was just 16 years old when the Box Tops, in which he sang and played guitar, had a No. 1 hit with “The Letter” in 1967. When that group broke up in 1970, Mr. Chilton formed Big Star with Mr. Stephens, a drummer, and the musicians Chris Bell and Andy Hummel. The band’s first album, “#1 Record,” in 1972, did not come close to fulfilling the commercial promise of its title, nor did the followup releases “Radio City” and “Third/Sister Lovers.” But their music – gentle and introspective songs like “The Ballad of El Goodo” and “September Gurls,” and exuberant anthems like “In the Street” – had a profound impact on generations of pop and indie acts that followed.

Perhaps the surest measure of the tug that Mr. Chilton exerted on subsequent artists can be found in the lyrics of the Replacements – another malleable rock act that moved more hearts than retail units – who sang in their song “Alex Chilton”: “Children by the million / Sing for Alex Chilton / When he comes ’round / They sing,







I will write a piece on Alex Chilton sometime this week.

David Byrne and Fatboy Slim's "Here Lies Love"

from Pitchforkmedia:
"Here Lies Love, David Byrne and Fatboy Slim's long-in-the-works concept album about Imelda Marcos, is finally here! And wow, does it sport an impressive guest list. Contributing vocals to the song cycle about the former Philippines First Lady (and her childhood servant, Estrella Cumpas): Santigold, Tori Amos, Cyndi Lauper, Sharon Jones, Steve Earle, Florence Welch of Florence and the Machine, Shara Worden of My Brightest Diamond, Róisín Murphy, Nellie McKay, Kate Pierson of the B-52s, and many more. Byrne himself only sings on two of the project's 22 songs.

On February 23 April 6, Todomundo/Nonesuch will release Here Lies Love as a box set that includes two CDs, a 100-page book, and a DVD, which you can see pictured above. More info about the project can be found here."




“The story I am interested in is about asking what drives a powerful person—what makes them tick? How do they make and then remake themselves? I thought to myself, wouldn’t it be great if—as this piece would be principally composed of clubby dance music—one could experience it in a club setting? Could one bring a ‘story’ and a kind of theater to the disco? Was that possible? If so, wouldn’t that be amazing!”
-David Byrne

I had family members that had suffered political persecution back in the Marcos regime. Quite frankly, I do hope this work is a snub of sorts. Judging from the 30-second samples, this is something I'm bound to like.

"It is always good to try new things"; random encounters with Taken By Trees (Victoria Bergsman)

Photos by Sung of LosAnjealous

Last Wednesday, I went to see the Taken By Trees/El Perro Del Mar show at the Trobadour. I went alone this time around as I don't know any of my friends willing to go to a show on a weeknight. I left my house around seven with minimal traffic to West LA. Luckily, I managed to find street parking by the venue without having to pay bullshit street prices.

So I went in line to buy my tickets and was surprised to see how short it was. Anyway, I felt like I was the only person from among these people who went alone. There were two other lone wolves like myself who really wanted to see the show and didn't feel so isolated. I really hate it when people say that you need to go with someone to see a show or a movie, because nothing should ever hold you back on what you want to experience. Seriously. Shows are fun regardless of friends. And since we three loners wanted to see the show that night, we found camaraderie amongst ourselves. We bonded together with music, Hurricane Katrina (since Liz was from New Orleans), beer, indie boobs, etc. Loneliness brought us together.



Taken By Trees opened the first half of the show. The show started off with Pakistani music played as a background for clips of Pakistan. By the time the film ended, the band entered the stage and performed a lovely version of "To Lose Someone". I was always envisioned Victoria Bergsman to be incredibly shy and quiet. On the contrary, she was in good spirits that night. Commenting how she loves LA and all the wonderful people who came to see her on Hump Day. She mostly played tunes off her recent album although she performed "Lost and Found" off her first record. Thank god I caught her set that night, as she rarely plays in the States.



After Taken By Trees played their set, I went to the merch stands to purchase her new record on vinyl. $15 for a record...and I only had $8 in my pocket. By some strange twist of faith, Victoria Bergsman showed up at the merch. As I try not to squeal like some fanboy, I kept my cool and introduced myself. She was surprisingly friendly and nice, although I felt my English was too fast for her Swedish ears. The conversation was fairly short as I did not want to seem so forceful. I mentioned how I first saw her in New Order's Temptation video but later discovered she was the same girl who sung "Young Folks" and was part of The Concretes. I ended our talk wondering why she grew out her hair. She wrote a note in reply.



I felt embarrassed as I bombarded her with random comments and questions. Instead of treating her like any normal person, I was in absolute adoration. I just can't seem to help myself with the musicians that I have great respect for.



After having a random encounter with Victoria, I caught the following set with El Perro Del Mar. She started the set with "Let Me In" off her recent EP "Love is Not Pop; which basically set the tone for the rest of the night. Gone are the days of happy-go-lucky Sarah Assbring with her French-influenced pop. Instead, the set is full of somber, contemplative dream pop pieces from her recent EP. At times, the set reminded me a lot like Cocteau Twins since there was a whole lot of shimmery guitars. While she did not play anything off her first two records, but I was glad that she performed "Gotta Get Smart". She told the crowd how she had her heart broken in LA and she wrote that song. Assbring was incredibly friendly that night, although a bit moody whenever she talks.

Sarah also did a cover of The XX's "Shelter". I didn't really care much for the original, but Sarah's band brought the song to a whole another level. As the set was nearing the end, a lot of people were expecting a bit more. Fortunately, she ended the set with a Big Star cover, "Blue Moon". I couldn't believe that she played my favorite Big Star song and take it a whole new direction. What was originally a simple quiet piece, Sarah made it into a dream pop song about lost love. I could never be any more happier with this set.


After the show, I ran into Sarah. I told her how much I love her rendition of that Big Star song and erroneously described it as cover of some folk singer (I was thinking of "Nature Boy" off their "Third/Sister Lovers" album). Funny enough, Sarah actually believed me. Echoing the note that Victoria wrote to me earlier, "you always learn something new each and every day".


That night reminded me of how I shouldn't let simple things hold me back. Life should always be a new experience each and every day. Whether it be meeting your favorite artist, foolishly telling a lie to said artist, or going alone and meeting new fellow loners. Life is enriched with the many possibilities out there.


A couple of days later, I ran into Victoria at another show. Only this time, she was the one waving to me. We talked as if we were old friends.

So I'll try to make this a habit.

I've been on hiatus for a while due to laziness. This post-undergraduate life has been a misery, as I've become more tepid than I was before. I blame my current job and lack of social life that led to this dreary affairs.


Despite my sordid lifestyle, I plan on blogging more. I see this blog as a therapy of sorts, to vent my frustration, joy, bad habits, etc. Besides, I need to get back with writing, as I've slacked off since turning in my last term paper for sexuality and courts class.

Without further ado, I welcome you all back to the nonsense I write.