A Review I Did For Jeffrey Lewis And The Rain. To Say I Enjoyed It Would Be An Understatement.
A review I did for Jeffrey Lewis and The Rain. To say I enjoyed it would be an understatement.
More Posts from Emiguess and Others
My top 10 Favourite "End of Year Lists" list
10. My own Facebook statuses and Tumblr posts - Quality, naturally, but back at the end due to my relatively low audience compared to the rest of this list. 9. Rolling Ston...- Ha can't keep a straight face for that one! 8. Stereogum - Premature end of year list happened back in Feburary. 7. Empire On-line- The Empire fails to strike back. 6. The Ticket- Sign o' the Irish Times. 5. Uncut albums of the year -what's the latest Americana release to completely pass me by? 4. Pitchfork - hip hop is the new indie...We swear! 3. Culture Magazine -Camilla Long is the worst film critic I have ever read. 2. Wire - decoder ring to follow in January 2014 edition. 1. Sight and Sound- Both comprehensive and at times incomprehensible.
Review of The Msic Tapes w/ The David Nelligan Thing at Cyprus Avenue in Cork July 12th 2013.
A review I did of Elephant 6 outfit the Music Tapes for wearenoise.com.
Judo Intellectuals
The crowd was going wild as the two combatants social circled each other ready to pronounce, if the chance presented itself. They began to chant the name of the younger fighter, an artist who was given the public tested nickname of Sugar Man Ray Leonard. Thing is he was called that because he was boxing clever. But that would do him no good. This was judo. The more experienced fighter was dubbed the Obscure as he had a plethora of knowledge that served him well in his previous matches. He had swiftly defeated Thesaurus Rex and the Hip-Ocrite was no match for his peerless learned off references and his relentless posturing. He bristled at his nickname, fearing some people would assume a thematic link to the band The Cure, a musical outfit far too well known for this individual to associate himself with. His coach stood on the sidelines, chewing on his stereo-gum mouthing the lyrics from a million Japan only released b-sides. He had prepared his fighter well but you never know where a heated conversation could go. In this world of Wikipedia as the ultimate training tool, fighters had it tough. Everyone was so well informed these days. As Sugar Man Ray unleashed a shaky but compelling treatise on the disestablishment of outdated draconian governmental ideals the Obscure felt his intellectual mettle take a bit of a knocking. Politics was a weak area and he had made the mistake he always did. He wasn't holding a liberal arts magazine in front of his face as protection. He began to sweat and looked towards the timer. Was it really the same round? It had felt like this particular period of time was stretching on as long as a contemporary art installation. The polymath just didn't add up. Following another well timed satirical swipe from Sugar it was clear he was struggling with his topics and lazily slurred a passage from Franny and Zooey in an attempt to steady himself. "That's as deep as you go Salinger-wise buddy? Pathetic!" his opponent taunted him. "Let me introduce you to my little friend Seymour.." Another direct hit. The Judgemental corner began scribbling in their moleskins and this fight seemed to be ready to Finnish like it was Apocalyptica. To be fair, in traditional judo punching isn't allowed but the other fighter had gotten in his punchy prose before anyone was talking about getting punches in. Things hadn't always been this way. He had loved to absorb cultural touchstones as a child for the sake of proper learning but it was when a teenage desire to "take on the system" had mutated into a smug 20-something hubris did he realise he had lost his way. What was once a Scott Pilgrimage for him had now become just another Ghost World of thwarted ideals and expressionistic graphic novels. And the fighting industry wasn't the same either. The "Psuits" had it all sewn up, in both meanings of the phrase. Obscure wasn't ready to just fade into obscurity that easily and with a well planted zinger on his opponents moniker. "You should be called Sigur Ros Leonard!" he got his second wind. But it was probably the first wind most of the crowd had heard of. He stepped up his game, readying his signature move, a complicated maneuver his critics had called "The Pullman". It was just an elaborate name for back-Philip that he'd poetry slam on Sugar but the timing was very important. It was his turn to taunt. "Stop hitting your Will Self! Stop hitting your Will Self as he spun his way around Sugar Man Ray he began spouting film reviews of of French New Wave cinema, adding some bland platitudes about a cultural Renaissance. His mixture of classicist film critiques before a swift super(upper)cut of famous film quotes and insults proved too much for his once formidable foe. "I always said I'd hurt you,"The Obscure said in a moment of faux sincerity to his enemy. " I told you I'm a fuck up who would mess you up in the long run." Sugar Man Ray conceded defeat, reasoning that he had a mean Left Agenda. "But then I lean on my left a lot too," he consoled himself. Retiring to his library just outside the ring he began to lick his wounds and apply for unrealistic environmental drives. The Obscure had won the day and perhaps garnered too much acclaim. He knew his career was over but he was going out in a big cult classic way. The Referee/Lecturer held up his hands to the build of an ecstatic crowd cheer. This was the crowd who had just minutes ago wanted Sugar Man Ray to truimph but they had quickly changed their minds. I think it's called backlash. "Well Educated Ladies and Thoroughly Well Researched Gentleman. I present to you The Obscure who is our new Noam Chom-pion!!"
For Seamus
Upon the eve of the darkening hue While the greens deepen and the deprived insects rustle, There is now a figure featureless set against a slanted sky. I noted a steady breeze as it was thread through the horizon-less cloud and the air transmuted to a single voice. Its nervous quality borne of surprise Knowing there is no silence rich enough. The shoreline rests upon an empty seabed We will fill the space with the right words, Before returning to the interrupted paths he knew well. the sweep of thorns, When daily toil brushed up against eternal question. A shifting landscape stands still in a soft dusky ardour over the wordsmith, gone on ahead. We peer in from outside immortality.
N. E. W. S. Conference
The four of them were sitting uneasily around the conference table, eyeing each other up. Two men and two women. It was obvious from the body language that none of them wanted to be there but were compelled out of duty...and also...a geomagnetic field was keeping them in place. There was a heavy silence but a mumbling could be heard outside the door. One of the men piped up, "That Sun of a bitch. I have things to be doing. I just want this meeting over with." One of the women sighed. A bookish fair haired man entered the room looking at a clipboard. His hair was bright gold and despite his well kept official appearance, it seemed to want to escape the pony tail it had clumsily been tied up in. It seemed that any second this man would go supernova and shed his accountant-like guise and go up in flames. He sat at the top of the table and was humming as he flicked sheets over on his board. "Hmmm...I see...Yes...Yes...." He warmly smiled as he looked up and in a jovial tone began "So...How are we all doing today?" The four figures looked at each other with a mixture of boredom and incredulity and said nothing. "Fine. We'll get straight to business. I'm happy to report that your yearly reports have been filed and totted up and you've all compassed with flying colours! You must be all very relieved and proud!" Another beat of heavy silence. "Of course it's only regulation that I'm here for a final look see. And to make sure you're all happy in your current positions and well directions...ha...in life." One of the men shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The blond haired official noticed this and said "Ok, East. Tell me what's wrong?" East began first addressing the fair haired man before generally looking at his three other colleagues. "Well Mr. Sun, I'm not happy for a number of reasons. As the direction the Earth rotates on it's axis...I feel I should have more...well...axis in general. Certain levels of clearance are being denied to me and I have to wonder why. I can't help but wonder do people have a problem with my...orientation?" North scoffed at this. East continued. "You know Mr. Sun, we do the morning shift together and I really enjoy our working relationship but as the day goes on I feel frozen out." North interrupted. "You don't know anything about being frozen.." "Mr. North," The Sun chimed in, "You'll get your chance. Go on East." "That was pretty much all I had to say." "Ok...How do the rest of you feel?" North was a cool customer and assumed a leadership role as soon as he began work. "Look, I say it like it is, I mean I'm not called "true north" for nothing and I think East is overreacting. We all get our jobs, and some are better than others. I'm sorry if you're not a morning person but that's just the way it's gone.I mean back me up here South..." South didn't know if she agreed with North but could understand his point of view. She had once been attracted to him but chalked that up to his magnetism. "Well..." she muttered, "I do think as positions go, East gets sort of the short shrift and it's only now...dawning...on him..Ha. Sorry, couldn't resist!" East looked generally unimpressed but was at least grateful South seemed to side with him a little. She spoke on "Let's give him some latitude here to air his grievances." West grimaced. She picked up a glass as if to drink from it but instead used it to motion while she made her point. "To be honest, I'm with North and I usually don't like what he has to say but come on! We all studied our ass off for our 90 degrees and came to work here and we knew what we were getting into. Let's not deviate too far off course!" North took charge once more."I know I'm not that popular with the rest of you because of my fame. And for working on a fixed scale, "he smugly said, "Look I don't need to map it out for you. I'm the name here and I know it." "What is wrong with you?" East spluttered. "Do you not hear yourself?" South took the chance to comment "I think it's some times a case of 'the northern lights are on but nobody's home'." West groaned. South added. "I know conversations always go...South...when I get involved." She giggled.
"SHUT UP!" shouted the other three in unison, peeved at all the punning.
"That's another thing." East was angry now. "He not only gets all the fame, he gets perks like the Northern Lights and he's an aurora boring-ass as far as I can see." North was incensed."Hey! You get sunrises, you get majestic beauty on a daily basis. My perks are seasonal!" "I know I'm seen as the 'Wild' one, here" West announced "But may I make a suggestion. Maybe we should do something where we all like I don't know...switch around jobs or something..."
Mr. Sun looked very worried at this. "I was just talking to Mr. Earth outside this room and I don't think he'd sign on for such a major overhaul like that. Things like that require polls...and well poles. It's very complicated." "So what can we do then?" North sneered as he sat back slovenly in his chair. The Sun looked back down at his clipboard. "I will take all of this under advisement and you all know just how fair I am." East still looked unhappy but after having made his point conceded that there was no immeadiate solution. Mr. Sun stood up. "But now it's time to leave. We're way over time here. The Seven Days of the Week are eager to get in to this conference room and work on their various scheduling conflicts!" North sauntered out giving a mocking wink to East as he left. He and South soon filed out behind him leaving West and Mr. Sun in the room. "So.."Mr Sun whispered, looking around to ensure they were indeed alone, "Your place again tonight?" West smiled, "Of course, no-one has ever gone down on me quite the way you do. Well...maybe South..." "Sssh...no-one can know about our relationship! They'd think it was awfully inappropriate!" Somehow she had made the Sun go even redder in his cheeks. West wrapped her arms around the bookish star "Actually boss, that reminds me. Can I get a rays?" "Sigh...Fine, I'll see what I can do." He leaned in for a sun-kiss before saying "Oh the things I do for some Wild West action..." (Authors note: This piece was inspired by the Song No Aurora by The David Nelligan Thing. Check it out here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FwwlSATDJUQ&list=PL898AB4410575448E&index=6 and their tumblr here: http://davidnelligan.tumblr.com/)
Chatter
a clipped message
man to boy
and back again
im not sure
if i even want to touch you
but i ll know again
tonight when the chatter
dies down
and im helped by the forces
and cogs of age
in the drawn out years
ive avoided the answer
some twisted leg chairs
and the onset of winter
Well, for Starters...
Amy and Mark had several reservations as they entered the establishment. A tray of champagne glasses bubbling over with resentment glided by them as they were approached by a well dressed man. "We have smoking or non-smoking seething. Which would you prefer?" Mark looked at Amy. "Well her constant smoking is a factor so put us there in smoking. We wanna make a real meal of this." The well dressed man smugly added. "That's our job, Sir. Welcome to Bickerings, known throughout the country for it's fine quizz-ine." "We could have just had this out at home, Mark," Amy sternly said. The couple were being led to their table. "If we're going to have a proper argument we might as well do it in a five star row-staurant which is what Bickerings is, "Mark retorted. "Let's just try and have some fun here." Amy sighed as she pulled up her seat. Looking around she noticed a number of sobbing couples and a few others completely in silence. "Spend all this money to just sit in silence. That's a good thing?!" Mark didn't reply as he was already perusing the menu. Amy picked up hers and began to scan it. "Hmm...infidelity is never rare...that's sort of funny..." Mark saw a chance for first blood. "But it can be well done!" Amy glared at him. "I'm not sure I have the right appetite tonight. Destruction doesn't look all that appealing," Mark was wondering aloud, not really addressing his dinner date. "I'm going to have the salad," Amy flatly said. "I hear they use some of the finest olive vitriol around for it." A waitress walked over to them. "Hi, my name is Tiffany, Tiff for short. I'll be waiting on you this evening. If you'd care to look at our specials. We have fresh recriminations, chicken bones of contention and of course our famed Fracas bar which is located to my left or if you wish to argue with me, to your right." Mark addressed her. "I know revenge and all that serving cold stuff, but I'd rather it hot. Any suggestions?" "Well, we could bring it out when your conversation is getting more heated or we could have the meat roasted on a spat!" "Hmmm...I don't know," Mark mulled. "I do have a real beef with this woman but I don't want it overdone. Ro-Misery cooking doesn't do it for me. I'll stick with plain revenge. Straight up." Tiff smiled and handed another menu. "The resign list?" Mark took it while Tiff looked at Amy. "Salad was it?" "Yes, with some rude barbs." Tiff corrected her, "Do you mean Rhubarb?" Amy nodded. "Just a pint of Bitter for me then." "And a drink for you Miss?." "Faultless to a tea, thank you." Their first (dis)course were some insults they skewered each other with. Amy was unhappy with the belittle portions but didn't make any more of a scene than the two were already making. Their main coarse was intense. Mark had to send back his first piece of revenge as it was raw. He settled with the second piece even if it was a little undercooked. Tapping a nearby table he asked. "We got some wounds here, but no salt. Could we trouble you for some of yours?" Over the meal a lot was aired but this was no mere food fight. This was Dinner breaks all. The sort of argument that chews up a couple and then spits them out. They scoffed at one another before they scoffed down some more food. During a break in the hostilities and as a palate cleanser they decided to engage in perfectly civil chat. Mark laughed."I've heard such good things about this place. It's way nicer that that old dump we'd go for a little bite, I mean fight. What was that placed called?" "Oh yeah Quarrels. I don't know, it had a nice in your face quality. The Anger-biance there was second to none." It wasn't long, though it felt like an eternity like most arguments do, before they had im-gibed enough drink and devoured enough food for thought and were onto their just desserts. Having had their fill of each other they got up to leave Bickerings and as they were making their way out, Mark noted, "It's a bit steep. But we've had too many disagreements tonight. We won't dispute the bill." Amy replied, "I hear they like when people do that though!" As they neared the door they came across the well dressed man once again. It was clear he was the Haître d' of the place. "Finest fight we have ever had! Thank you! My compliments and complaints to your staff." The Haître d' just sneered. "Well, what else would you expect from a 5 Star location such as Bickerings? We're hardly Fast Feud!"
2 + 2 = 5 stars! Radiohead on TV!
New to the Spotify Channel While on tour with his band mates Thom Yorke is in a tour bus crash. Fortunately an Airbag saves his life but his bones are still seriously inured. Using the newest advanced technology a mysterious organisation known as the Karma Police rebuild him with bionic technology. Is he the new Six Million dollar man or just dollars and cents gone to waste? Lucky to be alive and assigned a plucky female partner, the earnest Ms. Honey Pablo, Thom uses his new senses to solve crimes while touring the world. Enhanced abilities, such as climbing up walls, innumerable calculations in his scatterbrain and with a new iron lung the melancholic singer fights for what is right and Just. This is: NEW YORKE, NEW YORKE Created by Donald P. Bellisario & Glen. A. Larson While generally fitter and happier this new agent codenamed, the King of Limbs, must face a plethora of new threats, bodysnatchers, the mysterious spy (over)dubbed the Creep and a criminal kingpin known only as Mr. Magpie. Has Thom become a super enhanced human or is he just a Paranoid Android in a shaky House of Cards? "Bullet Proof I wish I was." HE IS NOW! Episode 1: "Everything in its right place" Newly re-built and operating at pitch perfect levels Thom's first case involves protecting a child prodigy known only as Kid A from the clutches of assassin The Eraser. Episode 2: "Hail to the Thief" A case involving corporate espionage as an Electioneering process goes awry for a high up political leader plagued by a campaign informant. Thom and Ms. Honey resolve to not let down their newest client. Episode 3: "How to Disappear Completely" People are going missing at Radiohead concerts and Thom is optimistic he can solve the case. Will he need to call on his OK Computer hacker friend Idio-Tech to help him out? Episode 4: "Life in a Glasshouse" Abducted by a foreign government, Thom is forced into gladiatorial contests against Hunting Bears to test his feral abilities. (Part 1) Episode 5: "You and Whose Army?" Concluding part. Thom is liberated by army forces and must discuss his time in Limbo with a new psychiatrist a Ms. Sarah Treefingers. (Special guest star Bjork) Episode 6: " Fake Plastic Trees" The band find themselves in a mysteriously perfect town while promoting their newest album. What dark secrets are concealed in this town when the band go to sleep? Episode 7: " We Suck Young Blood" A Halloween Special as Thom faces an industrious vampire cult who are mass-producing victims in a warehouse packt Like Sardines in a Crushd Tin Box. Episode 8: "Amnesiac" Following an Amp explosion Thom loses his memory and joins Muse as a backing musician. Can the band convince him that anyone can play guitar for Muse and that he certainly doesn't belong there there?
Episode 9: "Jigsaw Falling into Place" The identity of the Mysterious Mr. Magpie is revealed at last as...Phil Selway!? Yes Radioheads most underestimated member has his knives out and attacks our hero. Episode 10: "Blurring the Lines" Part of Spotify Channel crossover week. The band tour with secret agent act Blur. An Al-barn storming action packed episode. Episode 11: "Where I end and you begin" Having long denied his feelings for Honey, Thom must find a way to serenade his beloved or be left high and dry when she settles down with her mystery fiance. Episode 12: "Exit Music (for a tv series)" The season finale sees Ed O'Briens career hang in the balance as Thom and Phil have a bitter fight that culminates in a Punch Up at a wedding... Honeys wedding to Johnny Greenwood!! Will Thom stop whispering his feelings for her and tell her the truth before it's too late? "No Surprises this is a show that won't make you sulk, as pleasant as a (nice dream) but with enough bends in the plot to keep you guessing. True love waits and it was worth the wait in this case!"- Tuning(in)fork (not affiliated with Pitchfork) Authors Note: This is a dedicated to Paula Larkin for her birthday! one of the biggest Radiohead Heads I know!
by Emmet O’Brien Khan Noonien Singh opened the curtains of his modest hovel. It h...
A short piece I did to celebrate the life of Khan Noonien Singh.
without title There's something brutal and special, beautiful and brittle about such a restorative rebuttal. it's not subtle, and it's not supple but it is super suitable to that of the more malleable millennial. and i guess it's just the perennial and the parental the supplemental instead of the fundamental and the more cruelly critical if deemed considerable well that's just atypical, anatomically analytical of the abominable and the abysmal why be miserable in the denial of any sort of miracle when the possible and the palatable are positively powerful and it's not tyrannical to demand change, be vocal champion local, detest bigotry and the unhelpful be hopeful, I dread to think of the dreadfully incapable You can't argue with a fanatical the odds of changing their minds is astronomical and I've never been all that mathematical but we shouldn't need a funeral to become spiritual, communal It's sad that such a grim ritual has become so habitual maybe these things will change in steps that are gradual and be wary of awful views that can border on the cusp of the casual Be mindful of plights around you that could be invisible. Signs in protests don't need to be grammatical or practical they can hang with questions rhetorical they can talk about topics regrettable With truth don't take a morsel Consume the mouthful believe me the respect will be mutual they can also blaze with power irrevocable and words wilfully wise could be deemed unpractical or whimsical Be the well read and readily available rascal Goodness should be commonplace not something special.and it should be placed alongside the cerebral and the celestial. I suspect anyone who boasts about being a radical gentle condescension lacking in truer comprehension a gent in a monocle lecturing the man in a shackle. Ideas of course are critical but hey let's just spitball and make sure we are never cynical, I want to look back from death inevitable and know from the break of the umbilical I was moral and I was ethical and that vicious things when all is final do die out and virtue is the thing that is cyclical
