A Creeping Rumble From the Abyss...

Hello my dearest Acid Cats,

We have been on an extended hiatus (re: psychedelic space trip) for quite some time, but that is now coming to a much welcome end.

 Stay tuned for a new+improved (re: less shitty) Cat, we've even got a new logo. 

This kitty gonna purr, and then eat all your Cheez-Its. SEE YOU SOON DARLINGS!!!

GUEST BLOGGER: My Cool Reggae Friend

Half of a phone conversation taking place one fateful Wednesday afternoon...

Dude, like what's goin on? 

U chillen? 

Me 2 man, always chillen.

Oh ur at work? Bummer, I'm just ripping some tubes, watching cartoons, staring at my Rasta colored Christmas lights, burning some Nag Champa so Mom doesn't get pissed.

"Just a colorful vase Mom!"

Yeah I can totes write 4 ur blog man, I don't need to put on pants right?

Sweet, lemme pack this Bart Simpson shaped steamroller and I'll hit these Internet folk with the most groovy, Irie of vibes.

Ok, I'll stop typing my responses as I say them.

HEY INTERNET DUDES

I'm the guest Blog Wizard today, so brace yourself for some serious vibrations. I had a dream one time I was born in Trench Town and had huge nappy dreads and said things like Wagwonn and riddim.

Then, my poser sister woke me up with our fat dog and I was exiled back to Babylon forever.

#Poser

#DolphinSwag

Ever since then, I have become a quagmire (not like Family Guy, although remember that one where Quagmire married Peter's maid and they saw talking dolphins and then he faked his own death by dinosaur and robot ninja? Man, that show is the best. Oh right, lemme get out of this parenthetical…) of
knowledge on the topic of Caribbean music. 

You all have that friend, the stereotypical stoner cliche who listens to mostly reggae and Sublime, owns at least 3 tapestries and whs embedded many a smokeable word into their lexicon. You know, the easily distracted friend who giggles at everything you say and eats all your Cheez-Its. Well I'm definitely not that bro guys, I'm like, pretty high functioning.  One time I even wrote a piece about Caribbean music for my friend's blog My Cat Took My Acid.

Dick move bro

So here is some significantly less rootsy island music from Zion to impress your highbrow stoner friends with. No Bob Marley (although Bob is like, super awesome) or cheesy caricature reggae, just some selections from PRINCE BRETT DA RIDDIM MASTER RUNNIN JAH SOUND SYSTEM FOR I AND I!!!!!!!

(oh shit, can we take that part out? I don't want people knowing my name, in case the government reads this and finds out I downloaded the Snoop Lion album and Jorge Cervante's DVD Collection on The Pirate Bay.)

My cat, Mr. Whiskerbunz

Mighty Chalkdust:::Ah Fraid Karl

Written as a response to the Sedition Act, the Jamaican government's attempt to quell the negative criticism they received from their people, Ah Fraid Karl is a politically charged song with a groovy beat. The name comes from former Jamaican Attorney General Karl Hudson-Phillips and his part in the Sedition Act, with the song effectively dismantling Karl's hopes of becoming Prime Minister [via sticking it to the man.] Even if you have no interest in the political scandal it hints at but won't directly address, you can like totes throw it on and groove out to the island riddims. Irie as fuck.

Niney the Observer:::Blood & Fire

A reggae classic, Blood & Fire is driven by a thick riddim, and is chock full of ganja-friendly Rastafarian lyrics.  The repetitive guitar riff rings in your head for days and the bass wibble wobbles all over the place (but not in a dubsteppy kind of way, obviously) but the rhythmic elemtns unify to create a stellar groove perfect to burn to.  It was also sampled by some chick named PJ Harvey on her allegedly incredible album Let England Shake.  I once rolled a doobie on my sister's copy of that album, she totally vibes to it, but being a reggae connisseur I know nothing of these hipster vibes.

King Tubby:::A Murderous Dub

King Tubby was the father of Dub music, a true legend who started out as a studio engineer and had the idea to "re-dub" existing recordings through his 12 track mixer and twist the production around, emphasizing various parts of the music and pulling them in and out of the track, creating something that sounded entirely different than the source material. A Murderous Dub (and all of King Tubby's work really) is good for people who maybe don't like reggae, but listen to bands like Animal Collective and Godspeed You! Black Emperor who make lots of weird noises that hipsters dig. He has a boatload of good tunes, and you can't really go wrong with any of his dubs, so this song should serve as a good jumping off point. Bonus points: sophisticated stoners dig dub over reggae, so play them some Tubby to show off how relevant you are.



Peace out Internet dudes, I'm about to make a T-Bell run, I only need one more punch on my Taco Bell frequent flyer card to get a free Crunchwrap Supreme, #bitchin!

Crunchwrap Supreme [via American Horror Story]

LOCAL PRODUCE: Wry Climate-Radio Tower Pulse EP

New York's Wry Climate is the musical vessel of Brunswick, ME native Dan Nelson.  Serving up a complex blend of hypnagogic shoegaze and noisy nostalgic jangle, Wry Climate makes music that both embraces and transcends its environment.  

What makes them even more interesting is that, despite many a blogger attempting to pigeonhole them into a genre and draw comparisons to other bands, they produce a sound that is uniquely their own. Sure, you might hear a swirling guitar riff reminiscent of Lotus Plaza, and the personal fables may evoke the same heartstring tug as your favorite Real Estate song, but by the time you draw a sonic parallel, the music has drifted off into a different daydream.  

Wry Climate, keeping glowing sheds safe since 2k10

As it progresses, this EP feels an Alice-esque rabbit chase through the mind of someone who simply doesn't want to be found.  The cryptic lyrics tell stories in a hazy way that feels instantly relatable yet frustratingly unattainable, like a drunken fever dream.

Keeping true to his conservatory background, the intricacy of Nelson's compositions rarely leave you enough time to appreciate the beauty of any one particular movement; the songs flow like the Androscoggin River, continuously in motion like Nelson himself. Yet it is this aesthetic that makes Radio Tower Pulse such a rewarding listen: the music is astoundingly multifaceted and presents enough avenues of exploration and interpretation to keep you intrigued with each re-listen.


You don't need a blog to tell you how great this album is, the music handles that fine on its own. Moral of the story? Close your eyes, calm your mind and let it ride.

Check out the band's Tumblr and listen to/download the entire Radio Tower Pulse on Bandcamp 

Christmas Wishes to the Supreme Being

Dear Yeezus,

This year for Christmas/Hannukah/Kwanzaa/Winter Solstice/Chrismukkah/#OtherObscureHoliday, I would really like it if you saved indie.  Since I'm just a wee lad click clacking away on a typewriter in my Midwest bedroom, (p.s. I live at 407 Barnes Lane in Chillicothe, Ohio...come visit me, gosh!)

#Selfie

I know my wishes will fall short of those made by Drake (new iced out wheelchair biddies via Degrassi throwbacks) or North BB, but I really hope that you and Frank Ocean can bring a lil holiday joy to my drooping face.  So to really drive my point home and in honor of Thanksgiving, I share this, a heartwarming holiday tale...

#WheelchairSwag

Once upon a time,

The face of evil

Winner of 47 Emmys

In a world where Ryan Schreiber was never born and Pushing Daisies was sweeping the ratings in their 5th season, a gale force wind of evil was a-brewin. Everything else in the world was riding some serious #chillwaves; people were vibing 2 hot indie records, the Tea Party switched to coffee, things were pretty nice, except for the aforementioned evil breeze.  

Said evil (whom we shall refer to as Chad Kroeger) was hiding far away in his evil lair of icy evil, (located in Canada, naturally) plotting his evil plots, practicing his evil laughs, and waiting for the perfect moment to destroy music as we knew it.   

One fateful day, 

Recent Instagram of Morrissey, with #Inkwell filter

Chad Kroeger looked into his crystal ball (aka the Canadian Internet) and saw that Morrissey and The Smiths were putting out a new album. (In this magic world they never broke up, Moz never went vegan and proceeded to marry a fabulous male hairdresser, ahem, cosmetologist. They also served bangin beefy gyros and almond champagne at the reception, I was there, it was awesome...but I digress...) 

"Best new music ya hoser!"

Not Pictured: 2Pac, Selena

This frustrated ChadBroChill and so he logged onto Canadian Pitchfork (aka a large moose) and much to his chagrin saw that Taylor Swift (who in this world is a prominent indie songstress a la Laura Marling/Jenny Lewis and makes #relevant albums that blogs drools over. Also, we're married and have 6 children, all of whom are already Internet famous. We also have a dog, his name is Marmaduke and he is a cartoon) was doing a sweet collab with 2Pac and John Lennon (who are also not dead and play cricket with Selena), a bleep bloop chiptune concept album praising the philantropic work of President Betty White. Since Chad Kroeger is evil and Canadians hate 'Murricans, he swore his revenge and pledged to make indie rue the day they pissed off ChadBroChill. (who was def being super unchill)

In a Canadian bedroom,

#LeagueofDarkness

ChadBroChill brought together his minions to form a menacing team of evil (are you getting the whole evil thing now?) to take down indie and all of its sweet vibes.  He called upon creatures from the darkest pits of Hades, gruesome figures like Celine Dion (before she got hot post-puberty); Chris Brown (pumped on mad steroids and harboring a MEAN insecurity complex, so essentially the Chris Brown you know); Internet music destroyer Patrice Wilson and everyone in that awful bro-club-nonsense band #KREWELLA. 

"Don't forget me y'all!"

This League of Darkness and all of their Twitter followers stormed into the World Indie Headquarters (Williamsburg, but a cool version with free open bars and bitchin spaceships) and demanded the heads of all #relevant indie artists.  Since everyone was busy riding #chillwaves and getting 10.0 Best New Music's on AntiPitchfork, they never had the time to strike back and Chad's League of Darkness took over the airwaves, both digital and terrestrial, blasting vomit inducing Bro rock and lamestream EDM all across the land.  They stormed into the record stores, stole all of the fantastic vinyl and made them into tacky arts & crafts projects, like ashtrays for their Canadian weedz, or bowls for their Dorito's Locos Tacos or cups for their Mountain Dew Code Red Bull. Oceans wept, skies crumbled and people jumped off bridges in terror. Basically, shit was pretty weak.

St. Yim Yames & Friends

Until the sky opened...

And down floated a Heavenly army.

The mysterious bearded angel spoke in a voice that drowned out the thumping bass and awful singing.

"I AM ARCHANGEL YIM YAMES AND BY THE POWER OF YEEZUS, I DECLARE THIS EARTH #IRRELEVANT!!!" (He said the word hashtag too, I thought that might be important.)

Archangel Yim Yames (who follows me on Twitter) raised a fiery sword that looked like a 1976 Gretsch Broadkaster and smote (smited?) the #KREWELLA kids and their #KREW, which calmed the oceans thrown so asunder. Celine Dion opened her mouth and let out a glass shattering wail that blew the archangel's majestic hair asunder, but his great mouth opened and swallowed it.  So stunned was the hellish She-Devil by his resilience, her head exploded and sent assorted penny candies flying across the world.

Aw man, Jelly Nougats again??

But the King of these lamestream nether beasts was not so easily deterred.  Kroeger's hair grew endlessly and shot towards St. Yim, trapping him in wicked streams of greasy Top Ramen.  But right before Chad Kroeger took the head of St. Yim for his Canadian mantle, a beam of light shot down in from the Heavens and a great stallion rode across the horizon.  The being on that noble horse was none other than Saint Jack White (who didn't become a sellout, never met ICP and ended the White Stripes on a far better album than Icky Thump), who raised a peppermint striped staff and plunged it through the heart of the nether being.

Artist rendering

Stunned, Chad Kroeger vomited up every Nickelback CD ever made (far more than were sold), and drowned his tone deaf fans in sorrowful plastic death.

Yet to every holiday story, there is a happy ending:

So being the benevolent being that he is, Yeezus descended from his platinum cloud crib and waved a righteous hand, cleaning up the mess made by the League of Darkness, forever ridding the world of their sinister sonic suffering.  

Then, in a final act of kindness, Yeezy dropped Obama's bangin holiday album and the world could celebrate once more.

Thanks Yeezus!!!

THE END.

I hope this heartwarming tale will open your heart enough to grant my Christmas wish (my Pa says I'm not financially savvy enough for Hanukkah and ahve too many freckles for Kwanzaa. I think he's just scared of the Menorah burning down the house [via David Byrne]), and that we can save indie together, and that waiter can hurry up with our damn croissants.

Love,

Little Timmy Brown

Thanksgiving Miracles

My dearest digital comrades,

Family holidays <3

Thanksgiving (aka pre-Christmas brunch) is almost upon us, which means millions of families will be gathering around tables of assorted shapes and sizes, where mom and Aunt Melissa will drink too much wine and proceed to slur their words before starting controversial conversation about their daughter's sex life or (heaven forbid) their own.  

Good thing the kids are all baked as the pie and don't care, since every good young American knows that smoking 'mad dank' is part of the Thanksgiving sacrament. I can't wait to be a drunk Aunt and embarass all the youngins.

The real reason I bring up Thanksgiving though is because this guy Jack White III has this lil record shop in Nashville called The Third Mans and they're offering sweet vinyl goodness for turkeys to donate to a charity. No joke, you can bring a turkey in and Maestro White will transform it into the Third Man 7'' of your choice! 

From what I've read on Fox News and Christwire, this basically means Jack White is Jesus so we should all bow down and give him all of our holiday fowl. 

TOLD YOU, bitches.

[Editors Note: Due to the all of the Chtulu business during the Times Square Rapture of 2k13, I did not have time to confirm this allegation with St. Jim James when he descended to Earth, but we can just assume it is true, Fox News never lies.]

Well sexy Internet I'm off, I gotta go burn up all my food stamps on a barrel of turkeys so I can be the proud owner of some #relevant vinyl! Until I return, here are some fantastic White Stripes rarities (a relative term in this overwhelmingly connected age) for your vibetastic pleasure:

SMALL FACES/HAND SPRINGS

A lo-fi gem with a rapid fuzzy heartbeat, Hand Springs tells a tale of love lost in a bowling alley. Gentlemen take note: never try to make up with your girlfriend at a bowling alley with a country pinball machine called Stand By Your Man: you'll only drop her Coke before causing some serious property damage and leaving broken hearted. Pretty sure that's in the Bible somewhere, probably in the Gospel of Jack (now available as an Amazon E-book, download straight 2 yr Kindle!) 

Also, fun fact: I was at this show, you can kind of see my bobbing head in the shadowy front.

Relevancy Note: Record Store Day 2k12 officially made this not so much of a rarity, but that's ok, Tumblr Jesus forgives their indiscretion and lack of 'cred' waves. 

LORD, SEND ME AN ANGEL

The White Stripes covered a multitude of classic blues songs throughout their career, but this rendition of Blind Willie McTell's pining ballad is notably intriguing. The studio version is great, but this live version from an outdoor New York shows the more playful nature of the often abrasive Mr. Jack White, changing the words to fit the NY crowd and bringing his charismatic vibes to the forefront, something that came over time with this song as he got more and more comfortable and relaxed with his own renditions of it.

RATED X

Almost uncomfortably appropriate, this cover of Loretta Lynn's ode to divorce was a live staple for the band in their first few years. This version is taken from an early performance at the Detroit Institute of the Arts. The most interesting part of this early video is seeing Jack & Meg nowhere near as tight and in tune as they would grow to be, yet they still hold their classic charm and the creative chemistry between the two is blatantly visible.

THE UPHOLSTERERS:::PAIN (GIMME SYMPATHY)

And as an added bonus, here is a song from Jack White's pre-Stripes band The Upholsterers. Started with Brian Muldoon while Jack served as an upholstery apprentice, the group recorded three songs that share a similar sound to another Jack White two piece act...

 According to Jack White's expansive apocrypha, he and Muldoon used to slip 45's into the furniture they'd upholster, some of which have probably never been discovered but would be a vinylphile's wet dream/holy grail/etc. This unconventional method of distribution makes a lot more sense when put into the context of Third Man's 'unique' approach to record packaging.

VIRAL INFECTION: Under the Covers Edition

re: All (Bigotry) In The (Patriarchal) Family

Has anyone told you how goddamned attractive you look today?

I'd holla, just saying.

As some of you more loyal (re: attractive) readers may recall, previous installments of Viral Infection have dug up some nifty covers from the depths of the Internet, but these were mostly poorly recorded live versions in a video quality only your (also attractive) mother would love. Nevermore.

This time, we've decided to give you some more incestuous covers of indie bands covering other indie bands, since we like to keep it all in the family. So hop in bed with your cute sister or 3rd cousin twice removed cause we're about to get tender.

SUN KIL MOON:::CONVENIENT PARKING

For those of you too young in your relevancy to remember this interesting experiment of a cover album, Sun Kil Moon aka Mark Kozelek attempted to do a spanning revue of the Modest Mouse back catalog in his ethereal acoustic style. While his dedication is applaudable, the songs kind of end up sounding the same and most are pretty watered down versions of fantastic source material. (something Sun Kil Moon had no issue with on their John Denver covers since fuck John Denver) However, this version of Convenient Parking is pretty nice and the accompanying video is not too bad either, like a light mushroom trip to Banner of Youth.

 

DR. DOG:::HEART IT RACES

Make no mistake, Dr. Dog is not a band that needs to rely on kitschy covers to prove themselves: although their studio albums are rarely flawless cover to cover, all of them contain at least several truly brilliant pieces. I could wax poetic ad nauseum on the genius of 100 Years or Die, Die, Die or That Old Black Hole but I'll save that for another post.  [Note to self: actually do that.] 

Yet here we have a cover of a band that most artists would have trouble covering, Australian darlings Architecture In Helsinki. Dr. Dog takes a firm grasp on the material, maintaining its integrity while adding their own signature sound to the song. Also, all the surfers are nice to look at, I must be feeling the contact high of our GUEST BLOGGER [note to self: actually don't do that. ever again.]

DEER TICK:::ALL APOLOGIES

Although Nirvana doesn't technically count as any sort of indie band anymore, the curious inception of Deervana certainly does. Deer Tick recently ended their tour as Deervana where they would play Nirvana albums in their entirety, this time around it was In Utero, and this is an acoustic rendition of All Apologies full of grit and flaws that would make Kurt proud, right down to the cigarette in the headstock.

Viral Infection: Unicorn Sandwich Edition

This week has been filled with nonsense work that has fried by brain and forced my attention span to narrow so much that I can only consume the most mindless of media.  I decided this meant I should watch warped versions of songs that have become Internet memes.  [Note: Rebecca Black will not be featured] amongst other ridiculous shit.  So here are some audio treats (generous term) best served with a blank mind, a burning nostalgia, and maybe a bong.

Gimme Pizza ('Chopped & Screwed')---Mary-Kate & Ashley Olsen

This song has been haunting me the past few days.  A selection from the You're Invited video series, which incited a smorgasbord of envy from me as a child, Gimme Pizza explores the childhood dream of putting every weird thing you can find on your pie, a fantasy brought to life once people watching this video start smoking pot and making poor sexual decisions.  The slowed down version also has a bangin Kitty Pryde feeling beat; (in fact, this could be a Kitty song, maybe she'll cover it...In fact, for comparisons sake, listen to
 Okay Cupid)

Anywho, so beware of watching either of these videos because they'll be stuck in your head ad nauseum and you may commit Internet suicide aka not update your Tumblr for a week or tweet n00dz.

Jonny McGovern:::The Gayest of All Time

K. Urbz & Adele stood, but Chris Brown was too tired from beating his current flame

Basically the most fabulous song ever written, about a massive dance party with every queerfolk in the universe coming together on the dancefloor with an open bar...essentially, Heaven. Plus side: everyone knows how to dance and is dressed fabulous. And Chris Brown isn't invited. 

[Frank Ocean totally is though]

Eddie Noack:::Psycho

A song written by Leon Payne, this tune has been covered by many an artist, (Elvis Costello being one of the more famous ones, although Amanda Palmer & Neil Gaiman did a cute married couple version) Noack's version is by far the most unsettling. Another Internet bro made an 'edgy' video to go with it, chock full of found footage and other weird shit that serves merely as a moving pastiche of visual stimulation.  You can also close your eyes and draw the pictures Noack paints in yr skull, they're more terrifying anyway.