I am not a Red Sox fan in any sense, but I appreciate any baseball situation, if it’s good, and sometimes even if it’s in Fenway. I also like it when the sick android who replaced Mel Gibson, following The Road Warrior, gets a Denis Leary-wielded bat planted up his splinter-sect-Christian sphincter.
In other news, I’m saying John Mark Karr didn’t do it. He was dressed up, coiffed, and wearing eye makeup for his arrest. He also seems slightly nervous. Guilty men fall asleep, if left alone in holding long enough. David Simon’s book Homicide (from which sprang the quickly deteriorated tv series of the same name) charts this phenomenon well, and I’ve seen it firsthand.
In music news, I’m a new victim of blog promotional tactics, at least by a homespun PR effort,(by all appearances), by Chicago band The Interiors. I’d say maybe fellow ChiTowners The Changes put them onto me, but I see they’ve hit a few other select blogs, by result of checking the Hype Machine.
Thassokay, though. Their work isn’t half bad, and certainly doesn’t sound like the ‘demo’ each track purports to be; hence my suspicions. I could do without the vocal affectations on “I’m So Happy,” (despite content maybe requiring it), because the vocals on the other two tracks I received echo Thurston Moore in an ohso good way. These pipes also sound rrrrrealllly familiar, in that I think I’ve heard this dude sing somewhere else recently, maybe on a Broken Social Scene record? They have what, 28 people in the band …
And I like the topical stuff that doesn’t get preachy. “The Bug” might be referencing HIV/AIDS – that’s certianly the street title for the virus — and “I’m So Happy” sounds like a comment on white collar crime. Stylistically, it’s just guitar rock, carefully placing nicely played leads that never flourish beyond what’s needed. The abstract “You Should Have Known” allows its soft start to evolve into a bouncy ditty, and “The Bug” reminds me of a neurasthenic, mooning Dinosaur Jr, and not just because of the title.
But it all leaves me with a cautious heart. I cannot count the myriad debut singles I received for review, going back to 1990, that contained the wild promise and excitement of a fledgling band that either disappeared or couldn’t sustain such quality (Avis O’hara, Sunday Puncher, Ellery Jett, et etc etc).
Please don’t hurt me, Interiors. I’m vulnerable.