It’s been a long while since Stormy Monday has featured a single, long track, so this week we have a special treat I’ve been hanging on to for a while.
On again, off again, on again funk-groovesters the Greyboy Allstars have been in the midst of a career renaissance – touring relentlessly and even releasing their first new studio album
It’s been more than a month since I abdicated my daily editorial responsibilities at the helm of this here rag, and in many ways I miss it terribly, as I miss you all terribly down in my loins. But these days I’ve been busier than an indie rock band’s PR team, and I can’t have you right nobs bringing me down (Brrrrruuuuce).
Hidden Track has sprung me to great heights since my disappearance. In the past month I’ve won a Tony for writing and producing roles on my off-Broadway one-man show called Once Upon a Belding: From Principal to Vice President, a 237-minute comic romp starring acting and karaoke genius Dennis Haskins; I’ve written the world’s only known social commentary on Vampire Weekend’s education, appearance and historical significance (seriously, haven’t seen anything like this out there); I’ve gnarfled the garthog; I’ve played stellar goalkeeper for second-division Barnsley FC in their giant-killing victories over Liverpool and Chelsea on the way to the FA Cup semifinals; and just last night I had my head exploded by the series finale of The Wire. Busy as fuck, mang.
So there hasn’t been much time for love, Doctah Jones. I managed to catch a power poppy short set from Favours For Sailors at a cool little East London rock club that had Pete Doherty on the docket. It then hit me that I have never heard a note of this supposedly famous rock star’s music in my life. I can’t even name the genre of music he plays. Is it me? Have I just missed it? Fuck it; I’m ’bout to start smoking crack rock on video, possibly on a sex tape. It’ll be hot, I pinky swear. Then I’m putting drugs in your drinking water.
I also managed to catch up with Levon Helm and his friends at the Beacon Theatre on Friday night. It wasn’t nearly as good as last St. Patrick’s Day’s unbelievable throwdown hoedown, but it still had its world-class moments (horn section = total sickness!). Among my observations: Jimmy Vivino came dressed as Stevie Ray Vaughan in the Hamburglar’s get-up, and Levon at this point in his life could probably pass for Willem Defoe’s great aunt. One thing is for sure-as-shit — it doesn’t get better than The Band’s catalog.
I’ve not got a point to all this. But Scotty’s returning from Langerado and I’ve been called upon to stall you lot until he lands safely and securely. So after the jump I’ve embedded some fantastic videos, and I urge you to take a few moments and check out the pickings while they’re still going good…
Pictures by Chad Anderson of Medeski, Martin & Wood at the Klein Theater, Bridgeport, CT 2/23/08
Four Tet returns with four tracks of techno (not techno). The Ringer mini album is a 32 minute, four-track excursion into the kind of wide-open spaces you might find if
A few years ago, my long distance friend and fellow music-obsessed freak set me up on an aural blind date. Considering that Andy had introduced me to and received frank feedback from me on a number of potential gentleman suitors (Joseph Arthur, Mason Jennings, Jesse Malin) by that point in time, he had a right to be confident – alright, overly confident – that this blind date would result in a long lasting relationship.
