My Bush is For Kerry
Like it or not, Noah and I are voting for the 'lesser of 2 evils'.

BUSH Coalition Collage
Mood:  caffeinated


This one goes out to Da Prez. From me 2 you, big guy.

5 Spot Photos



A few photos from our last show in Philly.

There are also a bunch of photos of Philly girls going crazy in bathrooms across town in this photo journal courtesy of Michelle

http://public.fotki.com/michiban/

Night Thoughts
Nothing is better than scrambling under some stranger's desk and trying to uncoil a great many-headed snake of wires only to see that your laptop has found a remote wireless connection on its own-without even needing help. I have to say that the best feature of OSX is the ease of networking!

I am in Philadelphia again working for a very nice photographer.

I am staying with Snee in his rented 3 bedroom apartment in West Philly now 2/3 vacant until the school year resumes. I am staying in the bedroom of a seemingly rich Swedish guy who has a fondness for collaged snapshots of himself with friends (I thought only girls did this as a way to remember who their friends were last semester). There is also an overall IKEA decor in this whole place, including a very pleasant blue plastic lamp which I have just turned on.

I have to admit that when I turned the lamp on and saw the bed lit up I couldn't help imagining having sex under this pale underwater light. It seems to be a sci-fi sexual lighting- Gibsonian.

I also imagined the room's regular tenant, whoever he might be, touching a firm collegiate bosom and giving himself a silent high five for the nice 5 dollar IKEA mood lighting. I tried to capture this idea with my camera phone but it didn't work. I need to start carrying my real camera around.

Tonight I'm going to watch the Olympics until my eyes fall out. Go Romania! You'll see us rocking those snappy Romanian jackets in 2008. I can't get over the vapid, blank looks on the American Women gymnists- at least that Texan girl.

Gentle Footnote
As a gentle footnote to these reviews: Rainbow Panda, that latest Mixel Pixel sonic and lyrical jaunt, was recorded in a room the size of your standard bathroom. This 'studio' often referred to as "pappy's back room" and "radioshack for presidente" also made home to a massive clothes drying machine called "chuckles". Sometimes when roommates did laundry "chuckles" sung back-up. Rain sounds were also very likely to make guest appearances as were steam heater sounds. Most of these got edited out. This album cost about 150 dollars to record (if you consider the mastering cost). In short, whenever I read a review of our new album I can't help but think of that little room with the 7 foot ceiling and those crappy speakers and that stupid "chuckles" and think, I wouldn't have changed a thing.

Plenty more reviews to be found. (Some of the best weren't on the internet.)

Reviews Compiled: The Good, The Bad, The Ugly

http://www.lostatsea.net/LAS/archives/reviews/records/mixelpixel.htm

http://www.montrealmirror.com/ARCHIVES/2004/061004/disc.html

http://www.ottawaxpress.ca/music/spin.aspx?iIDDisque=2189
http://www.dustedmagazine.com/reviews/275

http://www.filter-mag.com/reviews/interior.239.html

http://www.adequacy.net/review.php?reviewid=4270

http://www.splendidezine.com/review.html?reviewid=1079140460360820

Siren Festival Be Damned
Once again we've been forsaken by the Siren Festival. What the Siren festival organizers don't understand is that we are the shit. Besides the fact that we are the shit, we are also MADE of and for Coney Island. Mappy Land takes place on the Parachute Ride, and well, the Cyclone did take my baby... for a few rides on her unforgiving tracks before she dumped me off in 1999, broke and broken. OK OK.

To Siren Festival organizers: all we wanted was a back room stint in the OLD TIME BAR or an off stage gig in the Haunted Devil Shack (that evil Satan thingy). How many times do we need to see Sonic Youth writhe around on gold and platinum heels? The Industry Darlings of Modest Mouse- might I start a Silver Jews cover band as well- you might give us a shot. Hello Siren Festival lady. Your cold shoulder is killing me. I know who you are.

Momus Cover Song 'What Are You Wearing?'

http://www.mixelpixel.com/mp3index.html

http://www.livejournal.com/users/imomus/2004/07/14/

Next Show

Dream (I'm back)
Mood:  not sure

I am Satan in the movies. In a peacock feather hat strutting from bar stool to card table. Poker chips fly up and stick to the ceiling. Satan as a Dancing Girl.

I am at once the Dancing Girl and the Marine watching with wide cornstarched eyes from behind his magazine. I am reaching for the ceiling. I am pretending to pluck an armful of invisible chips. I am shaking in my hands and feet. My toes shake the opposite way as my fingers. My hair is a big puff of blonde with white roots.

It is afternoon. I am drinking a very tall beer. The glass grows deeper as I sip. I realize that the more beer I consume the longer the glass grows. The glass is green like shards of glass from a cardboard box in my Uncle's glass blowing studio.

Thick green oceanic mess of glass. Running my hands through the jagged pool.

I am Satan as a silver age flapper. I am a long legged dancer in the burlesque show but I am getting older. My shoulders are rounded and my posture is poor. I feel that I am collapsing into myself. Gravity is shutting me up. My bones are rubber bands pulling me tighter. My reflection in the bathroom mirror looks like my mother staring out from a movie reel beyond the grave. I am hiding in a pancaked smear of foundation and rouge until the cards reshuffle. Until the ceiling opens its wide brown teeth and sucks me into the stratosphere.