I’ve been slowly listening to Random Access Memories over the past week, and I just got to “Get Lucky,” and I REALLY like the extended guitar intro.
This has been a pretty good album so far, I’m not sure if it’s great but it’s quite enjoyable when it’s not trying to be a perfect replication of disco or gets incredibly, unbelievable cheesy in a bad way (or both of those things, for that matter).
This is probably the longest it’s taken me to actually get through an album. I blame reading Energy Flash for the first time and my constant YouTubing of whatever deep house track I absolutely need to listen to.
For the mushers of the Iditarod, the Farewell Burn, as the region became known, was a nightmare…Now dog teams were forced to navigate through blackened stumps and fallen limbs, along a trail that was often impossible to follow. Many years, the Burn accumulated little precipitation. Sleds intended for snow and ice had to be dragged across hardened mud and gravel. Runners broke; tree shards snagged tug lines; speeds dropped to 3 or 4 miles per hour.
In 1984, the Alaska Bureau of Land Management cut a swath for a better trail. But even then, a seasoned musher could need 12 hours or more to cross from Rohn to Nikolai, the checkpoints on either side of the Burn — a passage that would frequently be made in darkness, through heavy wind and extreme, subzero cold. The novelist Gary Paulsen, who ran the Iditarod twice in the 1980s, describes the Burn as a place where mushers literally go mad. “It was beyond all reason,” Paulsen writes in his Iditarod memoir Winterdance. “I entered a world of mixed reality and dreams, peopled with the most bizarre souls and creatures …” At one point he thinks he’s on a beach in California; at another he pulls out a real ax to fend off an attack from an imaginary moose. When he comes to, his dogs have vanished; he’s alone in the landscape. He stumbles across them 100 yards away. He has built a fire and bedded them down without knowing it.
The Iditarod Trail runs across the Burn for around 35 miles of its total length. The total length of the Iditarod Trail is more than 1,000 miles. The Burn is not the most difficult section."
Brian Phillips, Out in the Great Alone
this is the best article I have read all year. it came out a few weeks ago and I forgot to post about it. go read it.
Some people like a little mystery in their show names. They want to draw the viewer in with uncertainty, guaranteeing nothing but obfuscation, offering nothing but the sublime wonder of the unknown. Mysteries will be left unresolved. Characters’ motivations will remain obtuse. Indeed, the viewer may never be truly sure what the show is even about.
Then there are the creators of “Sandwiches that You Will Like.”
I might write about this on a more substantial level next weekend, but I’ve been listening to A Grand Don’t Come For Free for the first time and goddamn is this a record. I’m not even sure if Mike Skinner is actually a good rapper or not, but his voice and his sort of casual flow turn some really boring life stories into unbelievably great tracks, and he manages to spin a captivating narrative out of a story that amounts to “guy loses money, meets girl, breaks up with girl, deals with that.”
Some of it does make sense, because love and loss make for compelling subjects (wasn’t I posting about Jawbreaker today?), but there’s something different about the way this album does it. Maybe it’s the intrinsic Britishness of it.
It’s kinda funny, because I’ve spent most of today making yet another attempt to get into UK bass music (I love literally everything I’ve heard, but as someone who is used to albums, keeping track of lots of singles—some only released on vinyl—is hard to do in a convenient way), and I plan on finally reading Energy Flash when I finish with school, but here I am going on about a concept album.
Related tangent: label logos are mesmerizing, and I think Tempa has my favorite.