After years of walking into Tower Records, 26 dollars in my hand (Hey white boy, what you doin’ uptown?). I’m finally clean. I don’t really seem to care as much as i used to. Everything was down to 70% off or better last night when I went in for what (I swear) is the last time before they close the doors and bury the old girl. Only came out with these four records. Seventeen bucks.A small thing, but seemed kind of momentous, after years of stumbling out into the dark Tower parking lot, woozy from flipping through six or eight hundred records and spending a couple hundred bucks...the thrill of ALMOST having everything Monk or Powell ever recorded...while half-heartedly trying to keep up with the latest shit the kids were listening to.
• I had read about this old cat Mudfoot Jones on Rope-a-Dope’s website a while back. A record done with some baltimore DJ guys called the Basement Boys. Listening to it now. A little monotonous—but it’s a good single note. Jones is an old session guy, who apparently got his name when “Elwood” Blues yelled at him in a session,“Hey Mudfoot! Can you turn it down some, son?”
• Rob Swift, from the X-ecutioners, one of the finest turntablists.
• James Figurine, a side-project from Jimmy Tamborello
(who was the musical side of The Postal Service, with Death Cab for Cutie’s Ben Gibbard).
• The Pernice Brothers—have they ever turned out a bad record?
This one proof that most artists—unless they are David Byrne or his visually-gifted ilk—should stay away from doing their own album covers—JOE! stick to writin’ the beautiful music!
