Show him some video of Angus hopping across the stage while rocking out.
'Serenity'
Buffista Music III: The Search for Bach
There's a lady plays her fav'rite records/On the jukebox ev'ry day/All day long she plays the same old songs/And she believes the things that they say/She sings along with all the saddest songs/And she believes the stories are real/She lets the music dictate the way that she feels.
Show him some video of Angus hopping across the stage while rocking out.
I did already. That's how he knows Angus is a maniac. Actually his first question was, "Is he drunk?"
Ha!
Incidentally, we have an admittedly inconclusive answer to the haunting question, "Piazza, New York Catcher / Are you straight or are you gay?"
Piazza, Oakland DH, has a new baby. (And by "baby" I mean "infant child")
I now have four, count 'em FOUR Hecubot mix CDs in my hot little hands.
This is a good way to start the day.
I now have four, count 'em FOUR Hecubot mix CDs in my hot little hands.
Right on, Priority Mail!
Aaaaaaaah, Countdown. An institution for Aussie kids throughout the 70s and 80s. Unfortunately, it was only the rare occasion that a band got to play live.
Ironically, last Friday I just missed an interview with Dave Evans on TripleJ. Dave was the original singer with AC/DC.
Pitchfork says that Arthur magazine is ceasing publication. That bites! It was free and had interesting stuff! I've got a cool photo spread on Tav Falco in the 80s that I saved. Alan Moore interviews, Byron Coley reviews and all the freak folk you can shake your freak flag at.
Hatto's husband is now admitting that he faked his wife's recordings:
In the letter, Mr Barrington-Coupe said that as the compact disc superseded the cassette, he tried to transfer his wife's recordings on to the new format, without success. So the couple made the decision to re-record her work.
But Hatto was suffering from the late stages of cancer, and the recording sessions were marred with her involuntary grunts of pain.
Inspired by the story of Elisabeth Schwarzkopf covering the high notes for Kirsten Flagstad in the famous EMI recording of Wagner's Tristan und Isolde, Mr Barrington-Coupe found a solution that would enable his wife to keep working. He started by inserting small patches of recordings to cover his wife's grunts of pain, but then began using longer sections of borrowed music, sourcing recordings that had similarities with his wife's style of playing.