Friday, December 26, 2008

Jeff Wall, Burrow, 2004

Patrick Faigenbaum, Ch√Ętaignes, grenades et pommes de pin. Santulussurgiu, 2006

Merry Boxing Day.

Anyone who wants to obtain a copy should get in touch.
Karen Dalton's In a Station, snow still falling outside through the orange lamplight, heaped up four feet high at the curb.

Once upon a time leaves me empty
Tomorrow never comes
I could sing the sound of your laughter
Still I don't know your name
Must be some way to repay you
Out of all the good you gave
If a rumour should delay you
Love seems so little to save.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Though my problems are meaningless, that don't make them go away

It's a Thom Bell evening over here at Anodyne HQ in the snow:

The Stylistics -- I Can't Give You Anything (But My Love)

The Spinners -- Could It Be I'm Falling in Love

The Delfonics -- Trying to Make a Fool of Me

The Spinners -- I'll Be Around

The O'Jays -- The Back Stabbers

& etc.

Mid-70s soul in thickly blowing snow. Store full. Random House order not in evidence. Drifts avalanching off the awning at regular half-hour intervals. The scrape of a Duchamp readymade out on the sidewalk.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

(Updated to reflect the "Demo" -- and to my mind, superior -- version on high repeat all day in the shop. Slower drums; slower, more teased-out and carefully enunciated vocals. And that haunting piano at 0:22; 0:43; 1:11-12)
Tuesday, December 23, 2008

(Via Alex Morrison, with thanks)
Monday, December 22, 2008

Jean Shepherd, The Man Who Told A Christmas Story -- long, well-written appreciation by Donald Fagen

"Listening to Shep, I learned about social observation and human types: how to parse modern rituals (like dating and sports); the omnipresence of hierarchy; joy in struggle; 'slobism'; 'creeping meatballism'; 19th-century panoramic painting; the primitive, violent nature of man; Nelson Algren, Brecht, Beckett, the fables of George Ade; the nature of the soul; the codes inherent in 'trivia,' bliss in art; fishing for crappies; and the transience of desire. He told you what to expect from life (loss and betrayal) and made you feel that you were not alone."


"Not long ago, in the absence of any books, films, music, etc., that seemed to give off any light, I started looking back at some of the things that used to inspire me as a kid, including some of Shep's old shows, now available on the Internet. Hearing them almost a half-century down the line has been a trip. Despite the tendencies I've already mentioned (plus the gaffes one might expect from a wild man like Shep ad-libbing before the age of political correctness), much of the stuff is simply amazing: The guy is a dynamo, brimming with curiosity and ideas and fun. Working from a few written notes at most, Shepherd is intense, manic, alive, the first and only true practitioner of spontaneous word jazz."

Overheard in the shop:

"Robin Bougie gets money every time you masturbate."

(viz. Bougie's "XXX flick of the year" pick, Massive Asses)

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