Top Eargasms of 2012: Hot Listening XXX Action

In case you didn't hear, the year we call "2012" is going to end soon. And we'll either be combusted in some hot apocalyptic mess on December 21 or even worse, we will have to endure something called "2013."

To take your mind off of the incessant guessing of which shitty fate you will soon endure, I have compiled a list of all the best non-shitty music parts of my 2012. These albums and listening moments have really made the year a good one, and it is my hope you will find this interesting to read and hear, or at least more enjoyable than being eviscerated by a Mayan calendar god.

Top Albums of 2012:

1. echolyn – echolyn

After waiting 10 billion years for their follow-up to The End Is Beautiful, I was a bit nervous to hear this release as I wasn't sure if the time between albums (and the time it took to make this album) would either produce an over-worked disjointed mess or a carefully-worked seamless masterpiece. I am so glad the latter is true. Every song is a favorite and this is one of those really rare albums that goes beyond the emotional to the visceral: 7:45 onwards in "Some Memorial" is a silent scream while falling through the center of the Earth. Ray Weston's heart wrenching lyrics and vocals always seem to bring my tiny black heart to the surface, but on this album that beautiful sadness shines brighter than ever. UGH, I'm such a girl. Here is the first track, "Island" which features a very kick-ass bass line by Tom Hyatt which I will be turning into a ringtone very soon:

2. Anathema – Weather Systems 

Anathema was one of those bands I've been hearing about for years and putting on that never-ending "Gotta Check Them Out" list. When I finally did give them a listen this year, my ears punched me in the face for not moving this band to the top of that list sooner. Weather Systems has been in heavy rotation since its release. It is epic and sincerely emotional without being sappy, and just sounds fucking awesome. This is my favorite from the album, "Untouchable (part 1 and 2):"

3. Adam Kromelow Trio – Youngblood 

AK3's debut was another album in heavy rotation throughout the year; which surprised me greatly because I generally do not get along with jazz music, as it has a tendency to make my 3 brain cells very uncomfortable. But Adam and company have been able to go beyond their jazz roots to cultivate a rich listening experience that progressively rocks. They performed in Philly last month and I hope they'll come back again soon and you'll go with me. I'll wear a cocktail dress and we can order grown-up drinks. Here's a video I took of them performing "Black Mambo" from Youngblood: 

4. Marillion – Sounds That Can’t Be Made 

Like with echolyn's latest release, I had the same trepidation about Sounds That Can't Be Made as this was another one with a long wait time. Overall, it is a gorgeous album that has all the drama and power Marillion never fails to deliver, but it is also a very dense album and I am finding difficult to listen to it all at once. (I had the same experience with their album Brave.) The really meaty songs like "Gaza," "Sounds That Can't Be Made" and "Sky Above the Rain" dominate the plate while the lettuce pieces used as dressing like "Montreal" and "Invisible Ink" go untouched. But I know I'll be able to chuck it all down my gullet at once eventually. Really hoping they play all of this album at Marillion Weekend because breathing life into those snack songs usually turns them into the main course. Now I'm fucking starving; here listen to "Power" while I go hunting and gathering:

5. Jason Plumb & The Willing – All is More Than Both 

This album is what I imagine Canada sounds like: poignantly wry, rollocking, endearing and melodic. I just love Love LOVE Jason Plumb's voice. I typically spend my Sunday mornings with it, whether it's with his former band The Waltons or with The Willing. This is the first single from the album featuring a little known Canadian musician named Alex Lifeson:

6. Threshold – March of Progress 

Like Anathema, Threshold was another new discovery of an older band thanks to my friend Jill who is trying to make sure I have enough prog metal in my diet. March of Progress is a strong, solid album and I always think it's too short when it's over. I am really looking forward to them rocking my face off at Celebr8 next year. This is "The Hours"-- a true rock anthem that will kick your ass to the moon, then gently carry you back on the wings of a fire-breathing pegasus:

7. Big Big Train – English Electric Part 1 

This is a really lush album that springs right out of the Shire and finds its way through meadows, low rain clouds, and under your favorite blanket. English Electric Part 1 was my 2012 music comfort food. Very much looking forward to snuggling up to Part 2. Rest ye weary heads on this sick bass line for awhile: 

8. Chiddy Bang – Breakfast 

Breakfast is the 1st full album by Chiddy Bang that follows their completely infectious EP The Preview. This was my go-to "dancing-in-the-living-room-because-I'm-too-old-and-tired-to-go-to-clubs-now" album and I think it will be for a long time. And did you know they are from Philly and met in my hood at Drexel University? Of course you did or maybe not. This track is the first single from Breakfast (because I know you love 90s hip-hop video + Blues Brothers parodies):

And this track is from both The Preview and Breakfast...this is a desert-island song; it's "Philly invincible":

9. RPWL – Beyond Man and Time 

I became familiar with RPWL after seeing them perform at RoSfest a few years ago and although they gave an outstanding performance, I thought their albums were a bit a bit green and that with time, they will just click....well with Beyond Man and Time they have clicked into full bloom. It is a wonderful album that builds on their unique sound but with a greater listening depth. I am excited to see what they do next and happy to keep listening to this album in the meantime. This is the best prog-pop song of 2012; this should be a radio hit: 

10. Gazpacho – March of Ghosts 

This album was on repeat for a long time after its release, then it fell off my musical radar and then just recently I fell back into it again. Like most servings of Gazpacho, it is melancholy and dark at times but there is also a hopeful light. This album is haunting, gorgeous, and imaginative. I want to be this album. Let this one saunter into your ears... 

If you haven't passed out from boredom or have absolutely nothing better to do, I invite you to consider more sexy music from 2012....

Top 5 Albums Released In 2011 But Took Me Until 2012 To Listen To Them:
1. Gosta Berlings Saga – Glue Works
2. Sean Filkins – War and Peace & Other Short Stories
3. Druckfarben – Druckfarben
4. Hello Seahorse! – Lejos, No Tan Lejos
5. Discipline – To Shatter All Accord

Best non-2012 Album Discovery: Rufus featuring Chaka Khan -- how did I not have this album immediately upon birth?! I can't get enough of it; I now usually start my day listening to "Circles"

Best Concert: Amplifier & Anathema at Trix Hall, Antwerp

Best Festival: Celebr8, and not just because it allowed me to escape my un-air-conditioned apartment during the worst Philly heat wave of 2012. I shot this video of Tinyfish strapped to the roof in order to avoid touching the floor:




Best Mix CD: a homemade 1990’s hip-hop mix Kristin found in a rental car while on a business trip.

What My Ears Most Anticipate for 2013 (If We Are Not Eviscerated By A Mayan Calendar God): 

• Amplifier – Echo Street 
• Shineback – Rise Up Forgotten, Return Destroyed (solo project by Simon Godfrey of Tinyfish) 
• Anything being thrown up by Alpha Flood and Boy Pierce 
• Marillion Weekend in Port Zelande 

So there you go -- the soundtrack to my 2012. Let me know what your favorites are before time runs out....Here's hoping for more great music in the next year or the next life. 

Time for a change

The days are getting shorter, the temperature is dropping leaves brown and gold onto the sidewalks and lawns of Philly, and I am dropping *2* Celexas into a double whiskey. What a wonderful time of year, much better than Summer in my humble opinion. So, hello there Autumn and fuck you Summer, you can go migrate up my ass and eat my bile you fucking steampile of rotten vomit juice.

I love many things about this time of year, especially as it signals the beginning of beard season and the end of swoob season. I love the sharp sun during the day, the smell of burnt offerings coming from the fireplaces of pyromaniac Tony Banks worshippers at night, and the fact that all children are being held captive in education-like camps for the next 10 months.  

BUT there is one thing that I really do not love so much about Autumning and that is shapeshifting into a grizzly bear.

See, the combination of my falling serotonin levels with the Earth spinning out of control around our 4 suns triggers this sac of neurons in my ass's brain that makes me to morph into a grizzly. It's really that simple. 

And I know what you are thinking -- that is awesome, I wish I could be more like Beorn! But sadly, I am not awesome like Beorn and my futon doesn't turn into The Carrock, and I don't jam my fists up orc asshole everyday. I know, how fucking lame.

Instead, I look like this.

Shhhh...I'm having a lovely dream about eating the insides of a New Jersey Diner

The transformation follows the same pattern every year:

1. Meld long-sleeved shirt onto skin.

2. Eat 3 bags microwaved pop-corn while watching Shawshank Redemption for the billionth time on TNT.

3. Drink hot cocoa out of a mug the size of a fishbowl.

4. Growl at football.

5. Order takeout that could feed a family of 4 and consume it in under 15 minutes.

6. Add a hoodie that is 4x too big to keep only the smallest amount of self-esteem intact. 

7. Swallow every form of carbohydrate in the apartment.

8. Apply yoga pants that will not even be considered for any exercise until January 1 at the earliest.

9. Sleep. Then sleep some more.

10. Hide under blankets stained with carbohydrates.

11. Repeat step 5, 7, 9  and 10 about 15 times a day.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a hot buttery date with Mr. Andy Dufresne.

This Summer Smells Like Hot Trash

Let me get straight to the point here because I've got to change my diaper. I really fucking hate summer. I hate its heat, I hate its humidity and I especially hate how it taunts my reflective flesh covering. But this summer is the biggest steaming shitsack ever, even bigger than my diaper. Allow me to continue verbally abusing you with 3 reasons why:


1. The Phillies have been ruining my summer by doing an excellent job of playing shitty baseball. They have managed to be in last place in their division, and their collective shittiness has been swept into more bins than I care to think about. It's SO BAD that we fans recently whizzed in jubilation over sweeping the Brewers. The fucking Brewers who are tied with the Phillies in baseball shittiness. Fucking hell. But it could be worse, it could be football season already.


2. I am so fucking sick of people talking about boycotting Chick-Fil-A. I don't give a flaming cunt about what you believe in or who you support, EVERYONE should have started boycotting Chick-Fil-A years ago because their food IS BAD FOR YOU, ESPECIALLY if you are Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Tom Cruise, gay, lesbian, man, woman, child, a Christian Tom Cruise, and a lesbian gay.


3. Because it's summer here that means it's not December and that means I can't see The Hobbit. Instead, I have to my choice of regurgitated bile (The "Amazing" Spiderman) and a very sexy man talking like a troll with emphysema (The Dark Knight Rises) to get my epic fantasy on. And The Watch? I'd rather watch a broken watch for 2 hours than see Ben Stiller continue down Adam Sandler Avenue.


So there you go. Hope everyone's having a great summer so far!

London please call me back!

Is everyone having a nice summer so far? You must be if you are not a Phillies fan. Up until recently, I was having the usual summer experience -- wiping the sweat from my knees, drinking iced maple syrup, and hunting spray-tanned sea serpents at the Jersey Shore.

But this summer is a wee bit different...

It all started last week when I had to flee Philadelphia because the Sun broke into my apartment, beat me with my own sweat glands, and drank all my beer. I managed to escape just before it started to spit humidity balls into my hair by jumping onto my American-TARDIS I always keep in my cheap-laughs closet for such emergencies. (Previously used to travel to the Planet Gettysburg).

Good for escaping life-threatening danger & a convenient
way to get from West Philly to Biff's Pleasure Paradise 

I telepathically told TARDIS by screaming to take me somewhere the sun wouldn't find me, and where I could hide under an umbrella at all times for further protection and secrecy. Immediately, it transported me through time, space, and ultimately a glowing cock-ring portal to deliver me unto a land called "London."

Welcome to London! 

After being ejaculated through the portal and regaining blood-flow from the prolonged journey, I was pleased to see this London was indeed a land the Sun does not visit often. I decided to hideout here for a few days since I figured the Suncunt would hopefully drop its sweaty balls on some other town that I don't live in by then. 

My first plan was to find a local resident who could help me quickly get acclimated/drunk. Luckily I didn't have to go far to find a police officer, or as they say in London a "sith lord" who was able to point me in the right direction. 

"Welcome to London, you fat, bearded bitch" 

He directed me to the bloated purple cow behind him for further instructions on how to make the most of my stay in London, and advised me to avoid the large inflatable pink tauntaun down the road. 

The strong udder juice from the purple cow combined with the cock-ring portal aftershock proved to be a bad idea in that it made me do a really shit job of painting lines in the street, but I was relieved later to find out it didn't matter that I did it wrong since no one drives on the right part of the street anyway. 

Not the good kind of white lines

I was really enjoying my time in London. Everyone was so friendly and always willing to lend a hand, even hold back your hair while you vomit up excess purple udder juice while they are poppin' a squat at the same time.

   Like, OMG, I like use the SAME tampons!

While using one of these royal thrones--just to update Facebook and play Angry Birds of course--a London woman on the toilet next to me told me I should definitely get "Vajazzled" or as the kids now call it, "The Queen's Jubilee" if I wanted to be able to use the most exclusive public duo-toilets in London.    

Hollywood Bikini includes 3 free taint Botox treatments

After I got all vajazzy, I decided to hit the town again and fuel up on some more London juice. I found a cozy little pub perfectly hidden in a swath of rain-swollen clouds. Luckily earlier that day I purchased a traditional potato jacket, as sometimes London get tater-tot hail. But after settling down for my first bushel of ale I noticed in horror that the Sun had sent a not-so-sectret detective to find me. Nice try Mr. Bloke-man, but I see through your camouflage! 

The Sun was clever, but not clever enough. After slugging several ale bushels down my neck, I quietly escaped through a trap-door in the floor and used a former orc tunnel that ultimately leads to the Misty Mountains to safely return to the smial I was being let to rent. 

By this time, my vacation was coming to a close and the affects of living in the future were starting to wear me down. I decided to just spend the rest of my last night quietly in my room. Little did I know that I would also solve one of the greatest London mysteries I am making up. At first I thought the sinks in this town were designed to frustrate instead of wash, but then when turning on my TV for my relaxing night in, I realized they aren't sinks AT ALL...

...they are, in fact, bath tubs for the tiny race of people who work in TVs to very subtly communicate the dialogue in scenes for deaf TV viewers. I felt really stupid for not figuring that out in the first place!

Well sadly, it was time for me to go back to Philadelphia to buy more beer for my fridge. I wanted to stay in this magical Londontown longer...soak up more beautiful rain, bask in outdoor temperatures that don't make me cranky, slurp udder juice, and show some vajazz in the sharing-is-caring ladies room. Hopefully someday soon I can return and explore more of this wondrous metropolis....if I'm allowed back....

(Insert something to read here please)

Let me just begin by saying this should be the end because what follows will insult your well-developed abilities to look at words and enjoy pretending to know what they mean (some people refer to this as "reading" or "showing off how smart they are").

Simply put, this crusty pile of word bile is not worth looking at because I have nothing for you to look at. I swear this on the made up words I think I am typing right now. But I am determined to attempt to fill this page with pre-selected words since you paid to be here (you DID send $49.99 to my PayPal account, correct?)

I've never had this problem before for this long...Maybe I used up all the words. Maybe I am lazy and Pop Up Video is on. But most likely my word bowels are backed up by my brain cheese. As I'm sitting here shoving Senokots in my ears, I am reminded of a brilliantly talented author who in the real world was a community college English teacher tell me that when you have nothing to write, or to use the term he invented during a book signing in his mind "writer's block, you should just kick that block right in the taint and just write, Write, WRITE!

What a cuntard. I kicked his taint instead.

But maybe I should try his advice...oh wait that's what I've been doing so far. FUCK! Triple roundhouse drop-kick!!!

So frustrating.

Anyhoohaadoodahh, maybe it's time to just quit, and sell this so-called bloggity blog blog on eBay or feed it to a breeder pig.

Oh by the way, if you were lucky enough to read this instead of watching the EURO 2012, you're welcome.

"It was today, it's died away and now it is forever gone.."

Over the years, I've been blessed with many opportunities to meet some of my favorite artists, but nothing compares with the experience of your first...In May 1988, Davy Jones made an appearance at the Cherry Hill Mall, and this 10 year old starstruck nerd with a VERY BAD perm somehow managed to have him sign a copy of More of the Monkees which was handed down to me by my mother and easily one of the albums that truly changed my life. This album made me want to listen to more albums by The Monkees and other bands; it spurred my music appetite which I still enjoy trying to satisfy to this day.

Davy Jones appearance or mullet convention?

Davy Jones had an amazing voice that just smacked with honesty and made you really believe in a love song. He was funny as fuck and appeared to never take himself too seriously. All in all, he always put stars in my eyes.

Thank you Davy for letting me always sing along with you....you always have and always will be part of the soundtrack of my life.

 

"Early Morning Blues & Greens"

by Diane Hilderbrand & Jack Keller

A distant nightbird mocks the sun,
I wake as I have always done,
To freshly-scented sycamore,
And cold, bare feet on hardwood floor.
My steaming coffee warms my face,
I'm disappointed in the taste,
But, there's a peace the early brings
The morning world of growing things.

I feel the moments hurry on,
It was today, it's died away,
And now it is forever gone.
And I will drink my coffee slow,
And I will watch my shadow grow,
And disappear in firelight,
And sleep alone again tonight. 

Shoot this up your Intertubes. Look smart.

What the Funk and Wagnalls is up with all these memes being posted on Facebook? More importantly, what the FUCK is the point of a meme?? My mom, my friends, and I all know what I do, which is of course spend my days downloading prog porn (I just received my Director's Cut BluRay "Slutty Larks Tongues in Asspic") and napping in my bed of Peanut Chews wrappers. There is only 1 picture for all that and it ain't pretty.

I think it would be more valuable to post something that truly informs and educates the astute Facebookers of the world, such as they are -- thought-provoking and insightful findings of evidence-based research with meaningful outcomes and statistical significance. Not this memememe horseshit. Fortunately, I have decided to do this for you, so you can stop crying now.

Below is the result of 5 seconds of intensive research and 5 hours of trying to figure out how to make a chart in PowerPoint, and is the a first in a series of data reports that you can to share up your Intertubes. You're welcome.

n=everyone on Facebook

My C Dropped

The following is a true story.

Maybe.

The other night, God was either pissing down or crying down rain all over the city of Philadelphia, most likely due to seeing all of the Joe Paterno tributes flooding his Facebook newsfeed.

In a strange coincidence, I live in said Philadelphia which--in another strange coincidence--is one of the oldest cities in America, and I happen to live inside one of the oldest buildings in this city. It was built during the days we were being sodomized (or was it colonized? I always get those 2 words mixed up!) by the British Empire, so all buildings were made out of pheasant bones and trifle.

Pheasant bones are strong, but they don't last forever, so the weakened condition of my shelter combined with the torrent of God piss pouring out of the sky made my bedroom ceiling weep like someone being colonized with a Toad-in-the-Hole.

In fact, piss damage has been increasing in my ceiling since I've moved in and this was the wiz that finally incinerated it. I was devastated, and since I am a woman who lives alone and happened to have ovulated approximately 48 seconds before this leak occurred, I too wept along with my ceiling into the arms of one of my Pillow Pets. I am just one woman against a giant flood of oppressive cloud wee-wee juice from above -- what could I do???

But like the Sodomists of early America, I knew I had to fight back using the resources I had. I had no maize and tobacco crops to shove into the ceiling's gaping crevice, but I did have this:

The wings of Freedom!

My defensive move worked, and I was so proud of myself I celebrated with sweatpants, "Dirty Dancing" and a pint of Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey. But alas, like at the Battle of Brandywine, when the Hobbits of Britain defeated our Amish Sprites, this was a very heavy flow of abuse and not even the wings of Stayfree® could free me from this raging storm.

So I did what any solider woman living alone in America would do in such a situation -- I put an empty Chinese food takeout container underneath the leak, stuck a tampon in each ear to drown out the drip noise, and went to bed.

I am happy to report that the sky has dried up and I can now go back to using tampons to plug-up mouse holes in the baseboards.

I hope it doesn't rain again for awhile, but if it does I will be ready.

Like some bell says, we must always "proclaim liberty throughout all the land unto all the single-living inhabitants of shoddy housing thereof."