new in

A massive perk of interning at a record label = free vinyl. Free vinyl!! Yeah!! I mean, a girl's gotta be rewarded after long days of individually bubble-wrapping egg-shaped maraca shakers to promote The Young's new LP. (Buy it here!! You may even get some maracas with it, lovingly wrapped courtesy of me. I actually don't know what those maracas are for. I'm just an intern.) 

So what better way to reclaim my humanity/rediscover that I am not, in fact, a system-serving robot (albeit with some admirable tape gun skillz), put on this earth with the sole purpose of packaging 500 Sigur Ros albums (Listen here!! Then buy it here!!) than FREELY lifting the new Ceremony album? And then, after lovingly unwrapping (these wrapping skills go both ways, you guys) said album, being able to proudly proclaim that, WAIT, PUNK MIGHT NOT BE DEAD! 

Granted, the Bay Area quintet began as a hardcore act - they first called themselves Violent World - but their new release, Zoo, presents a sound streamlined enough to be accessible to non-punks, while maintaining enough of their snarlingly authentic, belly-churning raw power to appease the headbangers.

Nothing makes me feel more human than the sound of hysteria. (Or "Hysteria," the album's first track.)

Like it? Buy it here!!

big nothing

Leon Levinstein

Street Scene: Man in Boots Walking and Adjusting His Collar, New York City 

aright, mate?

Now that the semester is over, I've chosen to spend my newly-freed time very unwisely: by engaging in marathon viewings of the most remarkably inane British reality television show, The Only Way is Essex. Call it Rubbishfest '12.

The "real people" on the show are basically a British translation of the vacant stares and pancake makeup of those chicks on The Hills; except that these Essex girls and boys audaciously flaunt the stereotypes they endorse, rather than pretending to be smarter and classier than they really are. They're real brain-cell killers, these birds and geezers; they're the recklessly spray-tanned, boob-jobbed foremen of the New World cultural wasteland. And I'm telling you, they're bloody brilliant to watch.

Anyway, this show is rather taking over my life, and I am dangerously close to adopting my very own Estuary English accent. So in celebration of those charming T-glottalizations and Yod-coalescences, here's a very small selection of my favourite full-on English choons.

Blur - "Parklife"

An exquisite, hyper-literate satire from the masters of hooky Britpop. Apparently, Damon Albarn took inspiration from Martin Amis's incredibly dense novel London Fields. So, probably not a TOWIE fan? 

Wiley - "Can I Have A Taxi Please"

A user's guide to London accents. (Thanks to the lovely LILWHY for showing me this gem!)

Sham 69 - "Borstal Breakout"

Obnoxious aggro intensity always sounds better from the mouth of a Cockney boy. Always.

The Streets - "Don't Mug Yourself"

Oi, Mike Skinner in a Fred Perry polo! Right fit, innit?

Ian Dury - "Billericay Dickie"

Mulleted weirdness from Essex's resident court jester. I'm not a huge Ian Dury fan, but Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll is probably something you should see before you die.

happy mother's day!

Lots of love to all the brilliant mamas, mums and Muttis today (Satan-worshipping or otherwise) -- especially to my own, decidedly non-hellish Mom. Love you!

duality

Harsh realms, indeed. Goodbye, Tom, my very first punk crush; you will be missed.

Hello, Laura Jane Grace!

synesthesia

The sound of soul-crushing perfection. When I see something beautiful, reflective, melancholy, hopeful, I sometimes hear this song.

I think it looks like this:

Or this:

(david bellemere)

This, too:

(jacky wong)

(david prince)

But mostly, this:

Listen to it loudly, and often.

RIP adam yauch

So shocking, and so incredibly sad. This video of the 19-year-old Beasties on Joan Rivers is a gem; were we all as guileless and carefree as MCA & co. have so delightfully been, the world would be a much more beautiful place.

Rest in peace, Adam.

on passive delinquency

Playing this game > studying for finals. Up the punx!