WSPC's Weekly Music BashFest

Dear Devoted WSPC Blog Subscribers (Sweet Pete, Teacher Jason, Alicia?),

We are embarking on a beautiful new journey into the realm of... music critique! Now calm down, calm down. Put out your torches, return your pitch forks to the barn, and march right on back to your computers... Obviously, musicians and music critiquing go together as good as, ice cream and low fat, coffee and decaff, nazis and challah bread, and/or sushi eating japanese mother fuckers and soul music. Point taken. BUT! Lend me yourears for a moment here. Allow me to quote the esteemed musician/producer/composer/lay, Maximillian Keene. When it comes to music (genres, artists, (D) all of the above), *"it is better to like too much, than to like too little." As(s) is with life, there is always a negative, a positive, and a psychadellic lense with which we can look.

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Heres a real life example:
Yesterday, I was at my local West Seattle Uptown Espresso having my usual Grande drip with room for cream, and doing my usual whimpering (imagine a 5'11" (5'10") japanese bearded cat with fauxhawk wearing turquoise shirt 3 sizes too tight, drooling and pawing his whiskers) because the barista is such a fox, I found myself in a sticky situation. My hipster cutoff pants had a rather long runaway strand of indie-string that reached all the way down to my consciously beat up vans. So I get my coffee, drool a bit at the counter, over tip la barista, give her googly eyes, and while walking over to the bar to get some cream, i trip over my emo-strand from my hipster pants, start to fall (in slow motion with mouth gaping open silently saying "konichiwa mother fucker watashi wa sake ga arimasen soshite kono oshiri wa oishii"), somehow pour the coffee all over my crotch and my darling barista, and finally land with not one, but two slo-mo face bounces onto the floor. Five feet away lies the gold tooth that was installed in the 70s by George Clinton. Now I coulda chosen to be all pissed/embarassed/ashamed and clumsily scampered outta there snivelling and whispering to myself how stupid i am... stupid stupid stupid. Instead, I got took off all my clothes, Sang "525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear..." did an Irish Jig, skipped home and called it good."

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Henceforth... the idea behind the WSPC Weekly Music BashFest is to have a music critique forum where we write about what we find wicked awesome about music, because Max is right, especially when it comes to his views on the liberation of African Muddy Water Gazelle from the PitchFork refuggee camp.

So HEY! Check out our weekly Album pick and review!

Oh and feel free to comment with your own thoughts on the albums.



Love and Butternut Squash,
Teacher Jason
(who is currently listening to Jamie Lidell - Game for fools)

*quotation not applicable to heroine, or methamphetamines...