March 23, 2005

TRIPPIN BALLS

I am indulging heavily on this new Oneida album that JagJaguWar sent. It's fascinating. I cannot tell whether they are down the rabbit hole for real and if so, if the mandolin death trip/Riders on The Storm is a statement against or a statement for. For/Against what? Braided leather wall hangings, moral gravity, forgetting your dealer's pager number are my best guesses.

It sounds like hippies in the forest coming down off of speed heavily cut with Borax. Ripping on early Spirit, but with lyrics copped from Dennis Cooper's office-use-only blog, with eeiry howling about watching someone you care about piss in Prospect Park (for the first time), braiding pubic hair and keeping yr drugs close at hand, foggy movement, unreality. It's a fragged, jammy mess that tries for "feeling good, infinte now, vibes" but is "bad trip, Death Valley, fucked a flaming skull and the skull was God." They could also be mocking the Brooklyn reclaimative beard-o neo-hippie school, or they might be trying to join in it, but overshooting it entirely with this morbid sizzlean Gentle Giant leather vest intent to deal vultures with marimbas shit. There is no glamour, no sex appeal, not enough wink wink nudge nudge to get any bearing - it's crisis making if yr trying to get the Oneida true north. The feel bad record of the spring, or the soundtrack for the week that finally sends you off to rehab. Well done Oneida!

Anyhow, what are you doing tonight? Are you living in Chicago? GOOD! You in posession of 5? EXCELLENT, cos I am djing 10:30-11:30 at Sonoteque, 1444 Chicago, for the Version fest benefit. See you there. I'll be the one with cat hair on my sweater and the crate of german minimal techno and Ashanti 12"s.

Posted by Jessica at March 23, 2005 03:58 PM | TrackBack