I'm determined this year to be done with rampant listamania before the new year, which explains why I'm wasting time before heading to a party by sitting at my desk, listening to sad country songs and banging hip-hop while writing in my blog on New Year's eve. Previously, I've wasted hours on an insanely detailed and well documented music post and it's now time to turn to a couple of my other loves, cinema and uh my blog (more on that later). Last year, I did a top 5 films list and somehow ranked Bewitched and Pride & Prejudice in the honourable mention category. I also did a top blog posts list too. I'd do a books list but it's a sad fact of my life that I don't really read anything new, or at least anything I'd reccomend, anymore. And I definitely don't read for pleasure anymore either. Onto less depressing shit:
Top 10 Films of 2006 (or: "The Top 10 Flicks That I Saw This Year That Were Released Locally in 2006")
I've spoken before on the lack of a true post-9/11 cinema in that, at that point, we hadn't experienced (that's the only applicable verb) a film that truly reflected the super-event of that morning. I think I spoke too soon. Babel effortlessly weaves together stories from Morocco, the United States, Mexico and Japan through the lens of the Babel myth. The Morocco story has the most obvious political focus, savagely denouncing all sides in the conflict, but there are shreds everywhere. Iñárritu makes the film about more than just terrorism (or possible terrorism) but about how we experience each other in the world (through languages, sexuality, violence, love, intolerance, drunkeness, drugs, immigration, etc. etc. etc.). The visual vocabulary of this film is astounding; the sequence in the club in Japan is probably the best and most realistic club scene ever filmed. The acting is off the charts with Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett (pictured above) dominating but the best work belongs to Rinko Kikuchi as a deaf, mute and sexually frustrated Japanese teenager.
Of course, the whole thing is way too symetrical if you think about it for too long but that's the entire conceit (if not the point) of the flick. The body count gets to be ridiculous in the last minute but that's part of the reason why you're watching it in the first place. DiCaprio and Damon are great enough to hold their own against Jack Nicholson, Martin Sheen, Alec Baldwin and a surprisingly amazing Mark Wahlberg. But the thing about this film that struck me so much was its use of sound. Usually, film is thought to be first and foremost a visual medium and many if not all of the metaphors that are used to critique cinema are of a visual nature. But it's also an aural medium and, apart from a key scene near the beginning to establish the film and one very huge one at the end, Scorsese fills every second with some form of music (ranging from Nas to the Dropkick Murphys) so when the music drops out, the silence is shocking, contributing to a further deepening of emotion in the scene. Forget the shit about Scorsese losing it, he's still one of if not the best working today.
Here's another contender for a truly post-9/11 flick. The film works on so many levels because of the performances and writing, yes, but more because of its virtuosic pacing that makes one of its scenes shock you much more than the violence should. I wrote more about this film here.
Michael Mann makes action pictures for the avant-garde set (or vice versa, depending on your point of view). Putting aside Li Gong's interesting take on the English language, this film rules on so many levels it's sick. The cinematography is probably the best of the year, the writing's refreshingly underwritten (in the best sense) and holy fuck did Colin Farrell have some amazing hair. I haven't seen the "unrated version" that was released on DVD but I assume it just adds onto the awesomeness.
This film won the Palme d'Or for a reason: it's simply one of the most devasting films of the year. Loach's class-dominant criticism works surprisingly well in the context of early twentieth century Ireland. I don't believe this has hit North America yet (a rare flick that played in Australia before Canada) but when it does, run to the theatre.
Another film that uses all the vocabulary of film (images and sound) to great effect. But the real crux of the film is how unflinchingly heartbreaking the whole thing is as the film forces us to discover who the title is actually referring to.
There are definitely aspects here that might makes some scoff ("OH, SHIT, THERE ARE GHOSTS NOW!") but the drama here works like gangbusters. Jonathan Rhys Meyers and Scarlett Johansson fill the screen.
When I saw something like the Break Up, I think, someone in front of us was trashing the "Pochantas movie" they had seen the last time they were in a theatre. Keep in mind, this was in Edmonton, but their criticism seemed to amount to the fact that there wasn't much action through the whole thing. But, yes, that's the whole point. Malick creates a texture and an atmosphere and if you're not down with it from the start, you're going to hate the film. The texture of the New World is all about love and desperation and for some reason I really got into it.
The concept was so bad that it took off and became a cult film before it even hit the theatres. Samuel L. Jackson has the line of the year.
Honourable Mentions: Jindabyne, Borat, Brick, Nacho Libre, Casino Royale, Game 6, World Trade Center, 2:37, Dave Chappelle's Block Party, The Devil Wears Prada.
I've sorta done this for a couple years now but here's a few posts that were either the best things I wrote or somehow summed up the year:
Even though I don't really remember much of what actually happened, I'm pretty sure that Andrew's year end "gathering" (forcefully highjacked into a house party) was one of if not the most fun nights of the year. I still can't believe I downed 2 forties of St. Ide's (and assorted other stuff). Here's the photographic proof. (Title from Roc C's "Don't Stop.")
The Oilers come within one goal of somehow winning the Stanley Cup. Dudes cry on the street when they lose. I almost do too. (Title from New Order's "Age of Consent.")
Jay-Z touches down in Melbourne!!! Show (and gig review) of the mu'fucking year. I should add here that I got it wrong and Beyoncé did come on stage during the encore but she didn't sing. I thought it was just someone who looked a lot like her. (Title from Hov's "What More Can I Say.")
Looking through my archives, there's boatloads of shit that could be on this list (especially in January through May when everything I would post was somehow gold) which proves that 2006 was actually a really great if bewildering year. Here's to more of the same in 2007.
Listening to: Styles P - This Is How We Live (Produced by Havoc of Mobb Deep)
Today, instead of the devilish sun and heat of a Christmas on the other side of the world, as I was walking to Christmas lunch, it hailed and the temperature was comparable to a slightly warm but still wet holiday season in Vancity. The hail was as close to a white Christmas as this city will ever get and I'd like to think it was harbinger of a(nother?) good year. To get you all in the Christmas (or Festivus or Kwanzaa or whatever) frame of mind, download these gems:
HOLD THE FUCK UP:JAMES MU'FUCKING BROWN IS DEAD. He was, undisputedly, one of the most important figures in the music of the 20th century and somebody who can claim (truthfully) to have changed the world with his sound. I'll be back to eulogize more soon. I don't know what to say right now but here's some classic JBs shit I just pulled from youtube:
I just got word that my paper - on Charles Mingus, his "fictional autobiography" and Afro-Asian American raciness (race/sexuality) - has been accepted by the Association for Asian American Studies (the AAAS not to be confused with AAS) as part of their annual conference whose theme this year deals with interracial encounters and the city ("crosstown connections"). The conference is of course in the Mecca of Hip-Hop, NYC. And better yet the Yankees will be playing the Rays and Orioles at the House That Ruth Built when i should be in town. I know, fuck the Yankees (go Jays!) and the Mets are the more exciting New York team, but it's Yankee Stadium and the Mets will be on the road. The conference should be, um, interesting too.
I meant to post about this a while ago but I got caught up in my outrageous "professional blogging" (to use Jackie's words) exercise in listamania. But, anyways, your boy Thomas Pynchon sent in a letter to the Daily Telegraph awhile ago defending Ian McEwan for some reason, which you can read below:
Also: Also, I should have a special (and silly) Christmas Rap piece (on Run-DMC, Jim Jones and Bill O'Reilley) up on The Tyee at the end of this week but, until then, check out the DOOM promo above. The Supervillain is taking over. How long until he gets a major network Christmas special?
Listening to: Young Jeezy - Streets On Lock (Produced by Cool & Dre)
By any reasonable standard, 2006 was a great year for music. There are people who may say otherwise but they are dead wrong. If I can draw some larger narrative out of music this year, it seems as if we're moving towards a breakdown of clearly defined aesthetics towards something else. I want to say "unified style" or "bricolage music" but that may be putting it either too strongly or way too PoMo. In any case, what I'm thinking about here can be traced in (a) the blurring between so called "serious music" (using Adorno's term, also known as classical music) and pop in examples such as Joanna Newsom or Final Fantasy or even perhaps Bob Dylan, (b) the almost paradoxical loss of distinct "sounds" in hip-hop with everyone sounding like they are from somewhere else and producers working with people from all over the map, and (c) the boundaries between rock and hip-hop (always more than somewhat artificial) losing their coherence and not just in the rap-metal way of the late 90s, as well as dedicated fans of each genre moving towards each other (even if this is more an indie thing e.g. how everyone's into the Clipse and Jeezy now). I don't mean to sound all utopian or anything but it's all very encouraging. We should be looking forward to the day when Joanna Newsom drops harp backing tracks for Just Blaze and vice versa, to pull a possible (and possibly terrible) example off the dome. The other major story through the year, of course, was J Dilla, his life, death and legacy. RIP.
I've written heaps of material on this LP during the past year, from personal reflections to pseudo-academic pieces, so I'm unsure of what new insight I can come up with now. In short, though, this rekkid has been the soundtrack to 2006 for me. I picked it up a week before its actual release at the HMV on Yonge (they accidentally put it on the shelves early) and I remember listening to it for the first time on the subway, heading back to the University of Toronto for class. I was amazed and I could barely contain my absolute joy. I listened to it constantly for a week and then Dilla died abruptly. And it was then that, like the shirt says, I realized that J Dilla had changed my life. Donuts never left my headphones for the next half year and still, 10 months later, it holds a strange and incredible power due to its intricacy, virtuosity and heart.
I tried explaining the poetic conceit of "Monkey & Bear," while on a recent road trip, to my friends who were not down with Newsom and it didn't go well. They laughed and it all sounded so very ridiculous and lame. But the thing is this album is such a beguiling and strange and touching experience that the poetics or stylistics of the album seem deeply embarassing at times and seriously engaging at other moments. Ys' tendancy to toe this line (between lame and moving) is its greatest feature and, ultimately, the source of its triumph.
I didn't believe in the Clipse for a long time. Lord Willin' had "Grindin'," one of the top singles of its era, but little else and then they were caught in serious label-hell for so long that I wrote Pusha and Malice off as "washed up." Oh, how I was wrong. Hell Hath No Fury is the very definition of an instant classic and it's one of the best street hip-hop LPs of all time, at a level probably just below Illmatic. The rhymes are the essence of dope with every syllable deployed for impact and Pusha dropping quotables in every verse and Malice doing his best to keep up. And the beats are the best work the Neptunes have pumped out in seemingly forever - so harsh, claustraphobic and stylish enough to nearly reinvent the genre.
Scroll down an entry to read my thoughts on Ghostface's year but, as for Fishscale, it's probably his best album top to bottom he's put out (so far). The scariest (and best) thing about the Wally Champ is that he's getting better as he gets older. If he continues like this, he'll be the best 75 year old rapper ever.
Opinions are pretty divided on this rekkid and I tend to fluctuate between complete obsession and absolute disgust at it. But I'm back on the side of the former and I'm pretty sure that my positive gut reaction was probably more than true. Liars may be wankers or assholes or pretentious twats in real life and on stage but they sure do put out interesting albums. Drum's Not Dead is one of the best albums of the year on the strength of its drums and overall soundscape and not the concept or lyrics.
Quite simply, the best Destroyer album of all time (lyrically and musically). Basically, on Rubies, Dan Bejar (aka Destroyer) finally got around to hiring a band to match his poetry.
The most surprising rekkid of the year from the most compulsively interesting rapper in the, er, game today. Who knew that the Game could come up with a better LP than the Documentary without Dr. Dre?
We need to accept that Nas will never make Illmatic again. Hip-Hop is Dead though is an impossibly ambitious album which attempts to recaptulate the entire history of the culture while simultaneously attempting to move rap further into the future. Lots of rappers talk about changing the game but only Nas would go out and singlehandedly correct the entire course of hip-hop history.
Lupe is the dream of (a) any hip-hop head, (b) many lapsed hip-hop fans from the so called Golden Era, (c) any A&R man worth his or her salt, (d) skateboard kids who think Pharrell is a phony, (e) indie kids, (f) rap lyric nerds, (g) nerds, (h) the MySpace generation, (i) you, and (j) me.
Even though it's really great, you wonder how J Dilla would've finished The Shining himself if he got the chance. Karriem Riggins (the producer who completed the project) and all the guests do Dilla proud.
12. TV on the Radio - Return to Cookie Mountain (4AD/Interscope)
Personal reasons kept me from probably engaging in this album as much as I should have but, even so, it's pretty clear that TVOTR is one of (if not) the best bands working today and that this album is even more proof of that assertion. A great LP from a great group.
For a day or so, I thought that More Fish was actually better than Fishscale. I soon realized that I was wrong but More Fish is still pretty great. Producers are top notch and the rest of Theodore Unit are at least somewhat decent. GFK kills it as per usual.
17. Soul Position - Things Go Better With RJ and Al (Rhymesayers)
Since RJD2 has apparently said "fuck you" to hip-hop, this album will probably be the last rap related thing he'll do until he realizes that his new material kinda sucks. Blueprint continues his development as an emcee, mixing the conscious shit with the funny material in a way that most rappers who do either cannot.
21. Oh No - Exodus Into Unheard Rhythms (Stones Throw)
Oh No (Madlib's little brother) digs through Galt McDermot's extensive back catalogue to craft one of the most unnervingly inventive hip-hop albums of the year.
Jeezy's not a rapper, as he tells us repeatedly, he's a motivational speaker. He can barely ride (or be dragged along by) a beat, his words aren't really all that new but he does everything with such conviction and spirit that he makes us believe in himself and ourselves. Young Jeezy has a 50/50 shot at either being the future or death of hip-hop as an artform.
In the battle between Swedish pop bands, I'm From Barcelona might have the better song but punctuation-challenged Peter Bjorn & John definitely put out the better album. Plus, "Young Folks" is a pretty great pop number.
25. Madlib - The Beat Konducta Vol. 1-2: Movie Scenes (Stones Throw)
Bound to be overshadowed by Dilla's Donuts, the Beat Konducta LPs (eventually collected and released as one CD) were pretty weird and great in their own right. The concept here is that each instrumental is supposed to be the score to a imaginary film.
Mastadon - Blood Mountain Roc C - All Questions Answered E-40 - My Ghetto Report Card Styles P - Time Is Money Psalm One - The Death of the Frequent Flyer Thom Yorke - The Eraser The Black Keys - Magic Potion Cansei De Ser Sexy - CSS Xiu Xiu - The Air Force Swan Lake - Beast Moans I'm From Barcelona - Let Me Introduce My Friends Beirut - Gulag Orkestar Islands - Return to the Sea Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins - Rabbit Furcoat Hot Chip - The Warning Jolie Holland - Springtime Can Kill You Mr. Lif - Mo' Mega Masta Killa - Made In Brooklyn P.O.S. - Audition Prince - 3121 Georgia Anne Muldrow - Olesi: Fragments of the Earth AZ - The Format
Biggest Disappointments, or, How to Underperform (Artistically)
Jay-Z - Kingdom Come OutKast - Idlewild Pimp C - Pimpalation Pretty Girls Make Graves - Elan Vital The Rapture - Pieces of the People We Love
Notable Omissions
These are the albums that got massive love from various people but did nothing (positive or negative) for me:
Beach House - s/t Sonic Youth - Rather Ripped Grizzly Bear - Yellow House The Roots - Game Theory The Knife - Silent Shout
I Hate This Shit
Girl Talk - Night Ripper
Best EPs
Frog Eyes - The Future Is Inter-Disciplinary Or Not At All Georgia Anne Muldrow - Worthnothings Black Dice - Manoman/Gore/Toka Toka J Dilla - Jay Love Japan (released in Japan in 2006, rest of the world in 2007) Laura Barrett - Earth Sciences (if it counts for 2006)
T.I. - What You Know I'm From Barcelona - We're From Barcelona Nas - Where Are They Now? Rick Ross - Hustlin' Clipse - Ride Around Shining J Dilla - Two Can Win J Dilla feat. Common - E=MC2 J Dilla - Nothing Like This (not new but rereleased on the Chrome Children comp) J Dilla - U-Love J Dilla - The Twister (Huh, What) (also, the version of this featuring Roc C & Oh No on the fan-club only 45) Xiu Xiu - Hello From Eau Claire Georgia Anne Muldrow - New Orleans Mr. Lif feat. Murs - Murs Iz My Manager (produced by Edan) Murs - Dark Skinned White Girls Sunset Rubdown - Us Ones In Between Swan Lake - The Freedom Lupe Fiasco - Kick, Push OutKast - Morris Brown Saigon - Do Your Thang OutKast - Life is like a Musical Nas feat. Jay-Z - Black Republican Jay-Z - Minority Report (Produced by Dr. Dre) The Game - Remedy (Produced by Just Blaze)
"Hot Chip were, by any standard, pretty fucking dope. As I said to former Hot Chipper and good dude Chris the next night, HC seem to be attempting to cross Kraftwerk and Prince. On record, for the most part, they lean towards the Kraftwerk but live they definitely emphasized the Prince. This approach is a great decision (I wish their records were like this too) and it made for such an energetic live show (or as energetic as a bunch of dudes behind a row of keys could be (see above)). With charm and earnest joy, supernerd Alexis and crew quickly got the dancefloor heaving. The show, halfway through, just turned from a headnodding, smile inducing good time into a giant dance party."
"this was a fucking Spank Rock show and when Naeem (aka Spank, pictured above rocking the 40) jumped up on stage when the BBC dropped "Backyard Betty" the crowd exploded. They ran through most of their best shit (although "What It Look Like" was strangely absent) and, instead of just a show, this night was more like a giant ass shaking dance party. Everyone, including myself, just danced our asses off and shouted/sang along to all of the songs which just absolutely kill live."
"Unfortunately, the tribute night was the wankish equivalent of a Leah MacLaren book reading without the fawning 50 year old virgin high school English teachers to ask questions that would never end. Never had I seen such an ugly side of "Torontopia" which, for the most part, has acquitted itself well since I moved out here (emo complaining from late 2005 notwithstanding). This night though was like a circle jerk where after getting tugged and fucked by the stillepost hipstas [sic] before they would even play, the bands would then proceed to pat each other on their backs while making mockery of the corpus of Sloan and then turn around and proclaim how much fun we were all having because they were the best wankers of all fucking time."
"Shipp played one continuous hour long set without breaks which, I think, roughly divided into two sections with a slight transition between the two. The first was much more in the "serious"/"classical" vein and the final part was more jazz-ish. I should pause here to say that the division wasn't so black-and-white: Shipp would often throw in jazz phrases into his modernist improvisatory passages and vice versa. His performance was virtuosic, so technically demanding and intense. The music definitely did not fit with a sunny Sunday afternoon and most of the people there had, I think, their moment where they just about nodded off. In a sense, it was too much to handle. Shipp might have been better off taking slight breaks to warm up the crowd, give them chance to clap and get into his show. One of the most striking elements of Shipp's playing was his sheer ferocity, the cacophonous nature in which he would strike the piano as if he was doing punk-rock jazz with serious musical knowledge and expertise behind the agression."
It's pretty much an indisputable fact that Ghostface Killah is the man of the year. Who else rejected the design for his own doll? Who else released not one but two potentially classic albums? Who else makes random shit (see below) sound so damn great? (J Dilla might qualify, if you replace "doll" with "New Era cap," but dude, as I've eulogized so much before, is dead.) The way that Ghostface dominated this year (well, critically if not actually commerically) gave us all hope for the Future of Hip-Hop and, furthermore, the return of truly dope shit to the forefront of the culture. By "truly dope," I'm thinking of Pete Rock's production on "Be Easy" which should have been released as a summer and not fall/winter single or Just Blaze's ferocious and oh-so-confident stewardship of the NY Sound (tm) on "The Champ" or Dilla's posthumous involvement in Fishscale or the presence of Madlib and MF DOOM on More Fish and Fishscale.
In a sense, Ghostface represents a bridge from the so called underground to the mainstream. Those are nebulous (and perhaps meaningless) terms (like the old conscious-ignant divide) and, as so many people have said, the true dichotomy should be between dope and wack. (The dualities though still have currency in the discourse about hip-hop, both internal and external.) But, in any case, what I mean to say when I invoke those words is that Ghostface, through Def Jam, is bringing subterranean dudes like Madlib and DOOM and Dilla in touch with listeners who might otherwise ignore or avoid them, for whatever reason. And, it seems as if Ghostface is only doing this because the dude wants to make the dopest shit possible and stuff that needs to be heard - otherwise, why would he be putting out an album (tentatively, after hearing one song, I've already pencilled in as the best album of 2008) with MF DOOM on Lex (Warp Records' subsidiary)?
Of course, all this has been a trope running through much of the Wu-Tang Clan's decade-plus history. That is, sure they put out a bunch of hits and sold a lot of fucking rekkids in their prime, but their music was always anti-pop (and not in the Beans/Consortium manner) if you consider the RZA's claustrophobic, sample-heavy (and what weird samples too) textures and the 9 super-emcees climbing over each other to spit the best verses possible. We should think here about Ghostface's epic stuggle with Raekwon for lyrical supremacy in the mid 90s onwards, Inspectah Deck's curious penchant to consistently steal tracks, the GZA's impossibly great flow, Method Man's charisma and hunger at his peak, U-God's anger, Masta Killa's I'm-trying-really-hard-to-keep-up ethos, the RZA's off-time falling-behind-the-beat cadence, and ODB's absolute genius. All of these talents and drives battled each other in a sort of tangled fellowship of dope art that can be found in abundance on 36 Chambers, Wu-Tang Forever (yeah, dudes, this was the best double LP in hip-hop history) and even the supremely underrated The W.
Finally: Ghostface soldiers on in this tradition while the rest of the Wu either have disappeared (where the fuck is Rebel INS or the RZA's beats or U-God?) or died (RIP ODB) or lost confidence (Method Man) or are now working along the same path but in obscurity (Masta Killa, Cappadonna). Thus, Ghostface is the Man of the Year because he has taken on the legacy of the Wu without being weighted down by it. Instead, he has taken it further and carried it past its possible irrelevance and now into the future. Will 1993 ever come again? You would have to think that the RZA's disappearance (at least beat-wise) would seem to signify a return to the basement and perhaps the birth of a new and revolutionary sound. We can only hope he drops the revolution before snap (or whatever) develops into something meaningful.
Listening to: Ghostface Killah - Block Rock (Produced by Madlib)
The conference is over and I'm back from Canberra. I don't really do "I-did-this-I-did-that" blogging anymore so I won't go through a play by play. But, overall, the trip was pretty fun involving (in no order) bad papers, good papers, wonderful keynote lectures, meh keynotes, a Six-Feet-Under-esque Irish bar in the mall that sells pitchers (nb: I still hate SFU), Canberra's cool bars, a somewhat mediocre bluegrass band, karaoke, a rad and quaint club called Toast, fries-and-gravy at 3 AM, bad donair, a restuarant straight out of Southeast Asia, drama, a near fight with the owner of the hotel, too many bacon and egg rolls, the Frow-glow, much Three Pillar Theory discussion, John Frow's wine, the Clipse on the stereo on the way there, an English collapse during the second test of the Ashes, cocktail parties at Parliament House and the National Museum, Joanna Newsom on the stereo the way back, late nights, huge fires in rural Victoria and the resulting smoke enveloping Melbs when we returned, early mornings and American Popular Lyric with Andrew DuBois class-esque dancing (I'm not sure if we got to that level, Andrew et al. but apparently photos are on the way). Oh, and I nearly lost my voice yelling along to mu'fucking Rick Ross' "Hustlin'" (see above) at the club on the dancefloor. Read takes from Melissa Gregg (aka Mel G) or Glen Fuller (aka Glen) for more details.
Also: Year end lists are coming but I think I should wait for Nas' Hip-Hop Is Dead which, from the 6 tracks I've heard so far, promises to be one of the best albums of the year. In the meantime, check Saelan's Top 50 albums list (and more) for a selection that is (a) shockingly throrough and (b) so very different than what I'll come up with eventually. Oh, and the new PYNCHON (see above) is also out and I'm actually going to pick that up tonight. It's nearly 1100 pages will either be a really functional doorstop or an amazing achievement. Either way it's pretty clear that Pynch needs an editor.
Listening to: The Clipse feat. Roscoe P. Coldchain - Chinese New Year
I'm off to Canberra (aka C-Town) for the (rest of the) week. We are officially going as the department's (postgrad) delegation at a big Cultural Studies conference but ostensibly most of us will be there for the road trip. I'm back on Saturday, hopefully in time to check out Edan, who I may miss even if I'm back home by then due to probable fatigue from the trip. You should probably download the new Young Jeezy, which is pretty much as great as Jeezy slowly weezing over epic-rad beats could be. (In other words, it's fucking dope.) Or buy the new Clipse because Pusha and Malice should outsell everybody not named J Dilla or Ghostface. Or, you can read about the triumphs of Stéphane Dion (HOLY FUCK) and Kevin Rudd (less surprising) in the progressive-party leadership contests in respectively Canada and Australia. Or you can read the latest SAIGON interview (less crazy than before but still unfuckwitable) and download the new Sai mixtape from Clinton Sparks and Kay Slay (dope!). Or, you can watch these clips of Michel Foucault debating Noam Chomsky in 1971, apparently in Holland. That's right, INTELLECTUAL BEEF!:
My heart wants Chomsky to be right and he's certainly got the the less nihilistic and more utilitarian position. In other words, Foucault may be right but Chomsky offers us a way to actually, you know, do something.
Blogging from C-Town is highly unlikely, so I'll be back next weekend probably with some enormous fucking year end list for you to destroy. If you've been reading me for more than 3 days, you probably know what my #1 album of the year will be. Later.
Listening to: Saigon - Saigon Sings The Blues (from the Return of the Yardfather mixtape)
