Dealer’s Choice – Ghost Gum / Boys in Stilletos / Wild Books Dealer’s Choice – Ghost Gum / Boys in Stilletos / Wild Books

pokerI don’t feel good, but I’ve sure felt worse so I’m going to go ahead and count this morning as a kind of win because there ain’t a damn person in the world interested or awake enough to stop me which – I guess – could be construed as some manner of…what’s the word for it? Who cares? Let’s just leave this moment between you and I with the rakish assertion that everything and everyone is just fine and will be forever because if you can’t rest your Oprah hopes for eternity on these temporal pieces of half-pleasantry, just how in the fuck are you going to form your layman’s understanding of the great big endlessness of space, time and the universe without being Neil Degrasse Tyson? Seriously. Rockit.


a1551804122_2Ghost Gum
“Ghost” from Demos 2014

When I was fourteen, I got to see Velocity Girl play at CBGB’s on the Sub Pop press list (because, even then, I was full of shit and Nils Bernstein was the coolest). Sunny Day Real Estate opened as did Sleepyhead and some band called Saturnine 60. I bought the latter’s 7″. Sarah Shannon wore silver pants. It was one of the best nights of my life. All loud, weird feelings and innocent fun. I didn’t smoke yet. I certainly didn’t drink. All I did was love the fuck out of punk popping the reverberations of rock and roll which might’ve been one of the umpteen reasons I didn’t have a girlfriend. Now I wear a tool belt with a Bud hat and pink panties, pogoing like Ahab on the promise of Ghost Gum.


a4155006710_2Boys in Stilletos
“Reckless Youth” from Holly Days

For the longest time, I’ve been trying to make a mix for my cousins (second cousins, actually…Peg calls them “The Vowels”) populated solely by female artists that I enjoy and who I think they might find empowering compared to the pop rot pablum and unrealistic visages their teenage years are currently inundated them with but the more I try, the more I fear my masculinity slipping into the equation and I start feeling weird about it. I mean, who the fuck am I to tell three young girls what to like when I can so easily direct them to Boys in Stilletos whose Francosurf postpunk electric pop dream comes described as “music made by girls, for girls”? Just some dude who loves Glass Candy, I guess.


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“Waterproof” from Wild Books

I suppose it’s obvious to say that – most nights – DC is a selfish endeavor. A reason for us to dig and delve through the great stinking mire of the internet looking for bands so much better than the rest of the rabble, the inexplicably unheralded by the hegemonic grifters who make the taste that makes gigging in any major city such a demeaning kink in the proverbial dick. A little spite. A little light. And then there’s Wild Books and their S/T closer “Waterproof” whose simple jangle to fuzz truth wet cigarette right rain riff love song is just about perfect.

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