Monthly archive for August 2012

Meadownoise Record Release


Matt Glassmeyer, townie and Meadownoise, will be releasing his record, It’s 4:00 – which we can only assume is an NPR reference, which is not cool – at the locally owned and operated record store The Groove this Saturday (8/25). It’s good. We’ve heard it. So should you. He made it in his room with all of his own stuff, no money, and lots of time (his words). You can peep it at his band camp below, as well as with the video for the song “This Machine and Me” which has railbikes in it. Matt’s a grownup badass.


The State of Kuwait: Pussy Riot 4eva

What Pussy Riot has done over in Russia is of no small importance and cannot be understated by everyone the world over. Even this small thing I (Richard) am typing here is justified and should be done by all. No facades, all praise.

I don’t read many blogs. One I return to frequently is The Quietus out of the UK. They always have fascinating records that I know nothing about and write fantastic pieces on a variety of subjects, almost none of which pertain to the current spin cycles of the surface or the underground. I did, however, expect to read an article on the Pussy Riot verdict, but I did not, however, expect to read this one. I can’t agree with it enough and have no interest in deferring any of the language or tone. I’m posting it here because it’s somewhere close to the heart of us here around Blacktooth, and because it is articulate about subjects that don’t get held together often (in my opinion), and because Pussy Riot rules for what they did. Add them to the pantheon, from Guthrie to Bombino.

“And the Pussy Riot case does remind us – religious or not – of a very worrying truth: that when faith gets too cosy with the centres of power and social control, it risks betraying itself.”

READ: Why Jesus Would Have Been a Pussy Riot Fan

S. Jones

She positions herself as asking a question but she’s really questioning the answer and more importantly: how do the Dap people make everything sound like the best thing on the planet? No one does it better than these folks and can’t complain about that content. It’s the same intentions as those behind the Whirling Dervishes, in my opinion.  She could also be joking, I don’t know.

click the d/l link below:

What If We Stopped Paying Taxes?

Hairpin’d & Coquettish

Back on the scene!

Now available from the Blacktooth Store and soon in all local Nashville record stores, the new EP from Hepatitties, ‘Balanlity Winkin” featuring the new EP in both stereo and mono, 3 remixes, and every demo they’ve ever done! The complete collectors edition indeed. Peaches would be proud with this crowded horse race.  Get your copy today. Yes.

Random: Fly Golden Eagle is back from their tour with Clear Plastic Masks and Banditos (it was awesome, so the legends go). Chrome Pony flexed a bit, both in town and out. More news from them soon. Majestico has a record coming out that’s not on us but that’s OK and they are working on an awesome video that holds the final resting place of some lovely ladies that we’ll show you all soon. Square People went on a little show-jaunt and watched a promoter get socked by a heroin-addict, Russel roofied himself in Mobile and came back from it more wise than we thought possible, giving us great advice which we’ll put into practice soon. Jeff gave us VHS footage, and Bill Rowe got Fly Golden Eagle to open up for Big Freedia.

In short: things are awesome. And we hope things are awesome for you, too. See you in the future primitive.

Ace Rock Delay (Where We’re At)

It was less an act of hubris,
More a lonely hearts club at the helm of a magic bullet.
Away on a relentless bid for rarefied inertia,
Rattletrap forks married to the patchy Terra Firma
Ursa Minor – getting warmer.
I crowbar into the pecking order,
The dreck between the whores and Betty Ford-ers
Hug a double yellow spine,
Knobby rubber like a rat on a rope:
Those little fuckers run on passion alone.
This is the product of a D.I.Y. inadequate home,
Grabbing a cabin in the-fuck-outta-dodge,
Actin’ a savage in the shadows of Rome.
Traffic amassed against insufferable odds,
Fashioning gallows out of plastic and bone.
I got the motordrome walls of death splintering under me,
All-city galvanized bikes white knuckling
Bright light, tunnel kings tuck in the devil.
PS – I wrote this on a self-destructing memo…