french eighties ladies

tighty whites

like felipe

For all you fifteen year old guided by voices/os mutantes nerds, and also those who have a fetish for music sung in another language, holy shit! Brazilian label Transfusão Noise Records' website is literally lined with downloads of their recordings (on the right hand side). Internet findings like King Tut. Think it's about high time to restless-leg it down to brazil, check out the situation, lavalier in hand, considering the scrumptiousness. Catch this Mix #6 has one of Transfusão's latest singles, which has (cliche aversion aside) the single greatest 2 and a half minutes of bedroom-dancing accompaniment- there's no helping it. I've only gotten through five album downloads since I read the post by the wonderful Raven Sings The Blues, and they've all been lovely. I think they're all super young. Particularly great is Wallace Costa's Crossing Fields (adolescently velvet undergroundy) and The Fashion Our Club's College Wave EP (like being an aware second grader in seattle mid-90s).

TRANSFUSãO NOiSE RECORdS

their myspace

vacuousness galore!

I really hate this song, and I don't have much respect for the video, but the plethora of these inch-deep indie music videos whose entire purpose is for aesthetic pleasure are so successful that I think I better get down to doing a few. I suppose the infinite introspective silent statement films that I want to be making don't lose any artistic merit if they're side-by-side with flimsy nostalgic bullshit, right? Is that too cynical? Maybe I'm becoming a premature curmudgeon. Music videos have such a power to transform a mediocre song into an integral accompaniment to a visual- how much I enjoy the song itself doesn't need to factor into how much I enjoy the video. So slapping a haze dazey humdrum of pretty girls and boys is just irresponsible filmmaking. What a waste! Anyway, whatever, that chickadee is a modernday Uschi, and examining her bod with a camera is very nice. I can appreciate that. Other recent examples of this I've come across (youth! bangs! running! sunshine! sex! adventure! converse sneakers!):

fringe master

Here's Atlas Sound, cooking up an intimate 4-course internet release of recordings done in the past month or so. They're dubbed Bedroom Databank and are absolutely necessary if you care about the internet, generation y, nostalgia, independent recording or anything Bradford Cox has touched. It's all over the place, so there's no point in breaking down the "vibe" of any particular volume or categorizing according to purpose (dozetime/worktime/walktime/freakouttime/xanextime, etc)- just dive in via whimsy. This man has a beautiful brain, and I'll be first in line when it becomes an experience ride at postmodern disneyworld.

GET THEM HERE

CATCH THIS MIX #6: LIFE IMPROV!

evening, citizens.

the sixth elephantitis mix of this season is dedicated to life improv! what? its what my therapist calls those moments that you are totally wild and all those evil little deliberations are gone and you do weird honest awesome stuff, like do little dances because you just remembered that kitten youtube video you saw last night, or do facial exercises in public, or spontaneously sprint, or ditch class because its perfect whistling weather. it sounds like being drunk but its not, we swear. also for the record, I have always hated the word improv because it reminds me of being a chronically shy 8 year old forced to join the JCC summerstock. but I made an exception in this case. I tried to put songs on here that you might be happy to get stuck in your head or get super excited to try and cover. thus, per usual, tis a mixed bag, and rightly so, as there very well might be something for anyone. they're in no particular order because they're meant to stand on their own. skip around! or whatever.

beep! many snuggles to you.

CATCH THIS MIX #6: LIFE IMPROV!

watch this goddamn film

Watch more free documentaries

"I had become obsessed with Eugene. That's what it was. One drunken car ride with him in the summer of 2004 and I could not get him out of my mind. He was loud and obnoxious but with a passion I rarely saw in men I have known. He serenaded me with Gypsy songs, and enchanted me with his spirit. I needed more time with him but sadly, Eugene did not need me. He was after all the lead singer of New York's notorious Gypsy Punk band, Gogol Bordello, with no shortage of female fans. Like a woman possessed I played my final card, and appealed to the only thing I could: his ego. 'I'll make a film about you' I proposed and to my delight, he agreed" --PAVLA FLEISCHER

I...there's nothing much to say about this. It is so dreamy that I almost can't watch it. He's despicably perfect and she's a genius