Out Hud has broken up. Funtime Ok has tracks. I’m not so crushed, although I did enjoy a live performance I caught at the Knitting Factory, right after S.T.R.E.E.T. D.A.D., a likeable and unclassifiable dub-punk must-have. But Let Us Never Speak of It Again was tinny sounding and too infrequently anything other than a boring dance record. I’ll go to Missy Eliot if I want stuff like “How Long” done better.
I always thought they were trying and failing to do the 808 State thing on Let Us Never Speak of It Again.
And while we’re on the subject of all things bloopy bleepy (although this track features realstuff, bloopy and not) I can only give my soul to 1/3 of Herbert’s new album Scale. Thus far. As I previously mentioned, I like how it variably reminds me of late 80s Wendy and Lisa, especially their “Waterfall.” Herbert’s also got topicals politicals on the mind.
On Monday, a former client came to visit me in his fresh US Army fatigues. Few experiences count as weirder than walking through Tribeca on a hot afternoon with a soldier — people sneering, others interrupting us to commend him; old guy said “we appreciate what you’re doing.” Kid thanked him, turns to me a moment later and says ‘I haven’t done anything yet, ‘cept lose weight.” I try to remain non-judgmental; he’s come a long way from when I worked with him, but I do allow myself to tell him I wished he’d found a way to fight his poverty, and make 18K, that didn’t involve the high possibility of death.
And he’s only one of five former clients turned soldier; two others over there, one back, and two others on their way. Two of these guys have major felonies, but these days recruiters don’t even blink, they’re so desperate for fodder.
The piano makes this song.
Tomorrow, and I can’t decide, for lost oughts: John Cougar Concentration Camp? Changes vs. Prefab Sprout? or Long Fin Killie/Bows/Music AM?