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!