She'll Kiss You Like a King and You'll Love It.

A Fine Frenzy: Bomb In a Birdcage
[Virgin Records]



That song says pretty much everything I'd need to say about A Fine Frenzy's (singer/songwriter/pianist Alison Sudol) second release, Bomb In a Birdcage. It's whimsical and terribly sweet, extraordinarily catchy and perfectly executed. I don't generally like to describe music as "cute," but holy crap is that song adorable. I'd like to pick it up and squeeze it lovingly; quite simply, it makes me smile (and press repeat).

Being that it's kinda what we do around here, though, I'll expand a bit. Bomb In a Birdcage is an engaging record from a talented performer and songwriter, equal parts elegant and playful, delicate and confident. Sudol deftly navigates through upbeat, bouncy tunes and more subdued singer/songwriter fare, producing an album that often calms but never bores; her ability to put just the right notes at the forefront of relatively sparse music, coupled with excellent production, prevents even the quietest songs from losing the listener's attention.

Having achieved a fair degree of success with her debut record, A Fine Frenzy expands her musical palette a bit with Bomb In a Birdcage, blending some slightly more daring pop numbers in with her flowing style and showing more power in her vocals. "What I Wouldn't Do," the single "Blow Away" and especially "Electric Twist" really get the first third of the album moving before Sudol settles into a more level feel for a few songs. "Electric Twist" is a true highlight here; beginning with just a bass, a couple low guitar strings and a voice, it slowly adds layers of keyboards and effects, building steam as the riffs meld and the vocals project. Sudol punctuates a number of lines with quick, high-pitched squeaks that might seem obnoxious in description but are totally endearing aurally--sweet and playful and happy. It's these little touches in delivery--like the breath at the 2:04 mark--that make A Fine Frenzy irresistible.



The middle section of Bomb In a Birdcage rolls along a bit more calmly, relying on Sudol's beautifully full piano to carry the elegant melodies, interspersed with bursts of horns and keyboards to keep things interesting. Still, these four or five songs drift along like a lazy river, comfortable and lovely and inviting. "Stood Up" is a bit of a deviation from the rest of the record, albeit an alluring one; its vocals are heavy on reverb and echo, and the song includes a piece where the vocals are backed only by a thumping drumbeat, giving it almost an anthemic feel. This track also includes some of the most powerful vocals on the record, and is rather stirring for an artist like A Fine Frenzy. The album closes out with the pretty "The Beacon;" that is, unless you get the iTunes version--and I recommend that you do--which closes more appropriately with "Coming Around." While it is rather pretty, "The Beacon" ends a bit anticlimactically; "Coming Around" is a more satisfying final track, upbeat and full of lush horns and background vocals.

Overall, Bomb In a Birdcage is an excellent entry into the ever-expanding female singer/songwriter genre. It's a cohesive record despite being quite a bit more dynamic than A Fine Frenzy's debut, and the lyrical content is intelligent, fanciful and literary without being too artsy or inaccessible. It may not draw in those who aren't predisposed to her kind of music, but for those with an ear for the mellow and melodic, Alison Sudol is definitely someone you should meet.

Play Dumb Play Dead Play Straight: The Dead Weather

This album is like a carefully constructed sloppy outfit; a carerected slopfit, if you will. You know exactly what I'm talking about: the kind of outfit that a [insert emo/hipster/etc. stereotype] takes hours to build, but all in an effort to make it seem, well, effortless. It is a just-rolled-out-of-bed, recording-our-band-practice kind of sound.

Not to say that this album is sloppy: it isn't. And not to say that it seems effortless: it doesn't. In fact, it is delicately imbued with an intoxicating kinetic energy. The idea that I'm trying to get at is that this album is meticulous anti-synchronicity. The syncopations are not consistent, but they are sure as hell intentional. Every beat, every dirty chord, is placed exactly where it is meant to go. It is the epitome of "brand new worn out" jeans: broken in so you don't have to.

If this all seems to be a terribly confusing description, then good. Because I'm doing it on purpose. You have now experienced the written equivalent of my listening to The Dead Weather's freshman effort. Maybe it's my mindset, maybe my lack of focus--I honestly don't know--but it took me a good FIVE listens to actually "hear" this album. For the record, this is incredibly untypical for me; usually I can listen to something once and tell you exactly what I like and don't like about it; I'm that kind of opinionated ass. But this...this was different.

And I want to say right here that I dig it. Really dig it. This album is just downright fucking sexy. If this album was a one-night stand, it would be with that hot fucker from a smoky dive bar that you bang in secret in your tiny college apartment. Sure, it might be good ol' missionary style sex, but it is a deep, intense penetration that you talk about for weeks. And maybe booty call a few times, just for the hell of it. Maybe more than a few times. This could go on regular booty call rotation.

I have been hearing a lot of backlash against Jack White these days, and I can relate to where that is coming from. Yeah, he is in, like, FIFTY different bands. Yeah, he has that whole "I'm a rocker, I'm too cool for skoo" vibe. Yeah, he has the scuzzy black hair, motorcycle jacket, and big black boots. But in spite of any possible comparisons to rocker cliches that you could impose, you cannot deny that the man can CHURN OUT some fucking listenable music. He has a gift: a gift of rock. If Jack White was the little boy Jack Black in The Pick of Destiny, it would have been Led Zeppelin talking to him from a poster on the back of his bedroom door.

I'm going to shy away from a track by track description, other than to leave you with this video. This FUCKING AWESOME video. They call it a short film rather than a video, and I can see why.

The Dead Weather, Treat Me Like Your Mother




AND the behind the scenes. Apparently, it is algebraic.




And for you film geeks: This is YES.



They really are too cool.

Music News: Again

In Minneapolis-based music label Rhymesayers news, P.O.S. just finished up three tour dates on the West Coast with punk band Bad Brains. He is continuing his tour in Europe right now, and will be back in the U.S. in late October with Eyedea and Abilities. Brother Ali also just kicked off a fall 49-show tour to promote his third album Us. The album has a load of guest appearances that include New Standards' musician Steve Roehm, Mint Condition's Stokley Williams and Public Enemy's Chuck D.

Brother Ali: “Us”




My mind has always said no to Scott Weiland, but my lady parts say yes. Weiland had a seizure on a flight from Los Angeles to Miami two weeks ago. The flight had to make an emergency landing in Dallas and Weiland was briefly hospitalized. After a quick recovery, he made it to Miami where he had a scheduled solo performance at the club Mansion. After his performance he did confirm a fall Stone Temple Pilots tour which starts on October 2nd in Mobile, AL. I’m guessing you shouldn’t expect much from it since the reviews for their last recent tour were shit.

Billy Corgan announced Smashing Pumpkins will be releasing their new album called Teargarden by Kaleidyscope this fall. Don't look for a regular old album in stores or iTunes though. Corgan's plans for the album include releasing one song digitally starting on October 31st. He will then follow consistently with single releases until all, get this, 44 freaking singles are released. Oh, and all the digital downloads will be free. He then is going to release eleven limited edition EPs that will contain four songs each. And finally, once all this shit has gone down, he will release one complete box set of all 44 songs. Corgan says that the final box set will not be an exact reproduction of the EPs. Isn't this the same bitch that went to Capitol Hill earlier this year to complain about radio royalties? At least he got with the program and realized his ass probably wouldn't get paid anyway for these songs (since no one in their right mind would buy them with actual money), and just decided to release them for free.

Everyone is being resurrected these days, and that includes the cult-followed band Devo. They recently signed a deal with Warner Brothers Records and are prepping for a 2010 new album and tour. In the meantime, Warner Brothers will re-release the albums Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo and Freedom of Choice in limited edition and deluxe formats in November. Also in the meantime, Devo is going on tour this fall to promote the re-releases. They will be stopping in seven-cities for two nights each performing both albums in full, one per night.

And now, to keep you abreast of what we're listening to, here's your Monday (mini-)Playlist.

Felicia: I’m currently listening to Hot Chip’s “Over and Over” from their 2006 album, The Warning. I had been wondering what they’ve been up to, since their 2008 album Made in the Dark was one of my favorites from last year. According to their official website, it seems the band members have been working on other collaborations and remix albums lately. They are also currently recording a new Hot Chip album, which will be released in 2010.

Sean: I'm following up last week's Buchanan song with a sample from Jay Buchanan's current band, Rival Sons. It's not quite the same vibe as Buchanan, that's for sure. It's straight-up rock; dirty, gritty, and sexy as hell. I'm digging it. From their debut record Before the Fire, this is "Tell Me Something."

Sunny Day Real Estate: Grown Up Emo Kids and Car Seats

"One day, we're going to be 40. And it's going to happen like that," my fiancee said with a snap of her fingers as we surveyed our surroundings this past Wednesday evening at First Avenue here in Minneapolis. She brought it up because we were on the younger side of emo kid nostalgiafest 2009, aka the Sunny Day Real Estate reunion show, and it was quite obvious by a quick glance around the room. We discovered the venerable emotive rock institution known to fanboys and girls as simply SDRE toward the end of their first go-around together. It was 2000 and the band's fourth (and what would have been thought to be final) album, The Rising Tide, was meant with derision by many, but whole-heartedly embraced by us high schoolers that were obsessed with indie guitar music that was catchy but filled with angsty pain.



But it was obvious that as opening act The Jealous Sound played through this very kind of music capably and honorably, we (for the first time in a long time) were the youngins ogling the old people that didn't seem into the music, but were oddly silent and contemplative. It was fitting, though, that we were in the minority, because the lineup consisted of the band's original four members, including Nate Mendel and Williams Goldsmith, who originally left SDRE in 1995 to pursue careers as bassist and drummer in some band called the Foo Fighters. So Mendel and co. stuck to largely that foursome's discography when they took to the stage, which are arguably the ones that SDRE will be remembered for anyway. It started off big, with mostly tracks for Diary, the band's debut from 1994. One in particular that managed to get me from analyzing the crowd to dive into the beauty of the music was their live rendition of "Song About an Angel". With gut-wrenching dynamics that haven't been in anything Jeremy Enigk's written (as a solo artist or in his other band, The Fire Theft) since his breakthrough songwriting year, it was certainly an early apex of the night.



As the band started intertwining more songs from 1995's LP2, including "Grendel" and "Iscarabaid", nothing caught hold of me as intensely as anything they played from Diary, but I knew I had never given most of these songs from their sophomore outing the fair shake they deserve, which is one of the magical things about surprise reunion shows, whether just a money-grubbing last ditch effort in a musical recession or not. When SDRE broke up shortly after the release of The Rising Tide, just after I had started obsessing over them, I immediately accepted the fact that I would never see them in concert. It's a completely different feeling listening to a record of a band you love when you know it's a possibility you'll see them someday, or if you know they're coming to town, or if you know they will never show up in your hometown. So hearing these songs in a light I didn't think would ever be possible truly was special. It makes me want to forgive the fact that the song "8" from that record was on the Batman Forever soundtrack, go back, and listen to it all in a refreshingly new and exciting context.



And despite their connections to commerical success such as this that broke out for the SDRE guys throughout the years both before and after the band's demise (lead singer Enigk also experienced marginal glory as film composer for the deservedly forgotten film The United States of Leland), I really didn't see this reunion as a primarily financially-fueled decision. And I say that as someone who finds a lot of these reunions nowadays completely financially-fueled. And I totally thought the same of SDRE up until the night of the show because there seemed no other reason to do it other than to jump on the bandwagon and see where their mark in emo history lay. Now the show was not sold out, but it was pretty packed. Their comments to the crowd were not necessarily enthusiastic, but they didn't sound forced either. And ultimately, at some point around the middle of them venturing into territory from their 3rd album How it Feels to Be Something On (and Pitchfork's favorite of that year, mind you) with "Guitar and Video Games", I realized they were not doing this for a quick buck. I had completely decided that between their new song that Jeremy (an otherwise sadsack sullen guy) murmured afterward he looks "forward to recording that one" and the pure ardor that propelled Mendel and Goldsmith through "Guitar and Video Games", that this was for real. These guys loved playing music together again.

So while not every song filled my veins with the kind of vitriolic fervor I felt as a pained teenager in a suburban wasteland (wee-ow, that sounds lame, who was I?) and as I came to the treacherous realization that soon I too would be 40 and might not want to "get into it" at a show, that at least the music remains. And thankfully, due to the spirit and genuine love between four guys who had a good run back in the day, both they and I and the hundreds of others that filled First Avenue wouldn't have to settle for just casually listening to an old record to get our nostalgic rocks off. We could get together again and while we can't recreate the past, we sure can come close. And as the mild giddy high weared off as I exited the parking ramp Wednesday night and I witnessed a 40-ish guy with black-rimmed glasses pulled out of his spot and readjust a car seat in the back of his Honda, I thought to myself, 40's not going to be too bad at all. If I can get away on a weeknight when I have a kid of my own to go and relive the glory of emo music when I'm 40, it's not going to be too bad at all.

Stop It.

Muse, The Resistance [2009]
[Warner Bros./Helium 3]

A true resistance movement, in the classical sense, does more than just overturn the status quo. A truly influential resistance is one that stands for something greater, that meets traditional wisdom with fierce internal power and clashes with the establishment in such a meaningful way that, in the event of their failure, future generations can still look to their example for strength. If a resistance is truly important, it will ring throughout history and impact even those who oppose it simply through the strength of its ideals.

Whatever resistance Muse is attempting to mount with their new album will probably be forgotten before the last song is finished playing.

Muse has always been a fairly well-respected band for their musical ability and for singer Matthew Bellamy’s stirring, if divisive, voice. They’ve been significantly less respected for essentially being a rip-off of early Radiohead and Queen. All the musical talent in the world can’t make up for derivative songwriting. Their “Guitar Hero”-powered hit single, “Knights of Cydonia” (from their previous album “Black Holes and Revelations”) was basically a cowboy’s version of “Bohemian Rhapsody.”

Unfortunately for the band (and for the listener), this trend of style-biting has continued with surprising vigor. The cheese-laden, piano-ballad-to-hard-rock jam “United States of Eurasia (+Collateral Damage)” should have Brian May considering litigation. The guitar solo in the equally grandiose “Guiding Light” even has May’s classic guitar sound, and bears such a close resemblance to his work it made me check the liner notes to see if it had been sampled from “A Night At The Opera.”

Everything about “The Resistance” is big, big, big, with no thought to what it’s really all for. Clearly, Bellamy is trying to make a point or, more accurately, a million points at once, but they’re so vapidly basic, one would have to wonder if he’s even seen a newspaper in the last two years or if he simply watched John Carpenter’s satirical “They Live” and decided that would be enough information to write his lyrics around.

The lyrics are, if you’ll forgive me, beyond stupid. The most interesting line on the whole album comes on “Unnatural Selection” (a title so clever it can only be considered with absolute reverence and awe): “Counterbalance is commotion/We’re not droplets in the ocean.” Pretty good. If only there was one more phrase on the entire album that was evocative in any way.

Just try to wrap your brain around the sheer poetry of their lead-off single “Uprising”: “Rise up and take the power back/It’s time the fat cats had a heart attack/Their time’s coming to an end/It’s time to rise up and watch our flag ascend.” You’d be forgiven for having to read it more than once. It’s super confusing. It’s, like, totally abstract and deep and junk.

He is right about one thing: fat cats are probably more likely to have a heart attack. Check your feline’s cholesterol before it’s too late.

On every song, Bellamy howls about wanting truth and fighting back against the lies that “they” are feeding us. He belts ad nauseam about power and right and wrong and victory. But, aside from being alarmist nonsense, his blathering results in absolutely nothing. There are no solutions offered other than “rising up,” whatever it is he thinks that means. Let’s say he gets what he wants. Let’s say that everybody bands together and decides to revolt against whoever or whatever. Great. Then what? Is that going to be explained on the next album?

Basically, it’s all problems, no solutions.

Even if you can ignore the nonsense lyrics, the music is hardly inspired or original. After listening through the album several times, I still can’t tell which song is which unless I’m looking at the track listing. And it’s not like Muse isn’t trying. If anything, they’re trying too hard. The production value of each song is so cavernously huge there is no gravity; if music traveled in the vacuum of space, it would sound like “The Resistance,” and everything would be too huge to be discernable.

What makes “The Resistance” so unpalatable is not simply its awful wordplay and bloated song structures, but the pretentiousness that has gone into its every detail. Muse clearly believes they’ve made something Earth-shattering, and every gluttonous minute of music feels more like three men paying homage to their own greatness rather than a band simply making a good sound.

The second half of “I Belong to You” is an excerpt from the opera “Samson and Delilah.” “Exogenesis,” the album’s three-part finale, is treated, and labeled, as an epic “symphony.” Rock bands that aspire to something more can be great. But rock bands that aspire to more and fail simply come off looking foolish, especially when they try to pass themselves off as leaders of some great movement.

And in the end, that’s what it’s all about. Muse is trying to lead some form of revolution, to affect some sort of musical or political transformation. But to anyone who’s actually paying attention it sounds like what Muse is resisting most strongly isn’t the voice of power, but rather the voice of reason.

-Christian H.
This review appeared (in a heavily edited form) in the Minnesota State University Reporter.

Atyipcal

Mute Math: Armistice
[Teleprompt/Warner Bros.]

The first thing you need to know about Mute Math is that lead singer Paul Meany plays the keytar in concert. Don't even try to tell me that's not awesome.


Armistice, the second album from this New Orleans rock band, lives in a very nice middle-ground. Mute Math's overall sound--a blend of alternative rock and electronic, almost psychedelic music--and Armistice in particular sit comfortably between Bloc Party and U2; more melodic and pop-sensible than the former, and utilizing the kind of lead riffs and echo-chamber sound of the latter in ways that are infinitely more interesting (and without the stupid sunglasses, silly monikers and general obnoxiousness).

From the opening track, "The Nerve," we can tell that there's something just a little different about this Mute Math record. The foundation is the same: funky beats, swirling keyboards, strong bass lines and effects-laden guitars. But "The Nerve" seems injected with a bit of soul that never made itself known on Mute Math. The whole of Armistice feels a bit more "loose" than the band's debut; I put that particular word in quotes because I don't want to give the impression that Mute Math is any less technically proficient in their performance here--they aren't. There is, however, just a slight change in the overall tone of the music. Mute Math was--and is--a fantastic record in every aspect, but even the most uplifting songs on it felt deadly serious; not necessarily cold or lacking emotion, but very tightly focused. Armistice, on the other hand, feels a touch more playful; relaxed, perhaps. The difference is subtle, but it's there. To better illustrate my point, I'd point specifically to Paul Meany's vocals. He is, of course, still an excellent singer, powerful through his entire range and tonally right-on. He sounds more natural, though, this time around; there's a lot less reverb put on the vocals, a lot more harmony, and--apologies for the repeated use of this word--a little more soul. His transitions are just slightly more drawn-out but still smooth, giving the songs a warmth that was often missing from their debut.

To be honest, I'm kind of nitpicking here in pointing out these subtle comparisons. The important thing is that Armistice is really a good listen. As I said before, the Mute Math hallmarks are still here: keyboards and computer effects swirl and splash throughout the album without totally dominating the soundscape. The songs are still full of funky rhythms and off-beats that manage to keep toes tapping. Several of the reviews I've read of Armistice lament the absence of U2-ish songs like "Collapse" and "Typical," the arena-rock standouts of Mute Math, pointing to the more ambient sound and complex melodies of this record as a departure from the band's originality and pop sense. That complaint, however, ignores the fact that--the aforementioned two songs aside--the remainder of Mute Math was hardly pop music. I'd counter that Armistice leans ever-so-slightly more in the direction of pop (perhaps alternative, more aptly) by retaining the experimental ambiance of the band's debut while cutting down on the "open spaces," as one might say; those periods on Mute Math where the vocals dropped out and for a minute or two we were left with just the rhythm section. That isn't to say that there aren't impressive instrumentals here; the gorgeous string interlude of "Clipping" is a highlight. The quick piano that tiptoes through this tune, the pulsating keyboards and the high harmony makes this one of my favorite songs on the record.



Armistice, while often unconventional, is not always mid-tempo and cerebral. "Spotlight," "Electrify," "Goodbye" and the title track can all hang with the best dance-rock you're likely to find, especially the latter with its groovy funk, frenetic bass and killer horn section. Fans of the band's debut will dig "Pins and Needles," with its relatively sparse instrumentation and jazzy percussion. And U2 themselves--along with a number of other lame pop bands--could learn a thing or two from the ballad "Lost Year," which drops the synths in favor of a piano and strings, and manages to lay a beautiful track over a still-interesting beat, not sacrificing Mute Math's identity.



Though I seem to be in the critical minority with this opinion, I think that Armistice is a step forward for this talented band. They've added a subtle new dimension to their sound while maintaining their uniqueness; essentially, they've held on to their originality without re-hashing their debut. As I said, it's a nice balance between the experimental and the accessible. I've never understood the thinking of critics who pine that a new record is not the old record. It seems counter-intuitive to hope that a band never progresses or tweaks their sound as they mature as songwriters and musicians; that maturation what makes a momentarily great band into a reliable favorite. My dad used to tell me that to consider a band great, each of their albums had to be better than its predecessor. It may be to early to state whether Mute Math will achieve that level of greatness, but Armistice is a worthy notice of intent.

Our Favorite Album Covers

Much like a musician who is part of a band but also releases solo material, I'm sort of glad we saved this post for this site as opposed to Pajiba. Of course, maybe if we woulda posted this on Pajiba, we'd still be on Pajiba. Right. Because this post is going to be that important.

I also want you to know that this post is totally NOT SUITABLE FOR WORK! You have been warned.

Anyway, here are each writer's (who cared to participate) Top 3 covers:

Sean

Buchanan, All Understood

It's not graphic or even all that provocative, but it always struck me as amusing. We know what's going on in there, guys. Maybe not the specifics, but...we get it. Lotta steam, too; somebody's good.

Faith No More, Songs to Make Love To

Rhinoceros humping. Indeed.

Rush, Power Windows

Alright, so my musical tastes don't really lend themselves to controversial cover art. You'll have to deal with what I think is cool, then. Hugh Syme has been producing excellent, thought-provoking cover art for decades, and this is one of my favorites.

I'd also like to make a brief mention of another prolific cover-artist: Storm Thorgerson. Not necessarily because he's produced a number of iconic covers, including Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon. But because the man's name--his GIVEN NAME--is STORM fucking THORGERSON. I dare you to find me a legit birth name that's more rock 'n' roll than that.

Jez

Dwarves, Blood, Guts & Pussy

Yeah, it's totally misogynist, but there are naked women covered in blood and a dwarf acting like he's having sex with a rabbit. It's totally an affront to your sensibilities.

Black Crowes, Amorica

Umm, so yeah. I kind of like the low-brow covers.

Zipgun, Baltimore

A guy dressed up in a bunny suit giving an easter egg to a poodle. Folks, I dare you to find a more fucked up cover than this. Not necessarily a big smack in the head like the first two, but more like "What the fuck?"

Chris Polley

STNNNG, Dignified Sissy [Modern Radio; 2005]

I already knew the Minneapolis spazz-punk outfit STNNNG were awesome when I saw them live. It just so happened that an album cover featuring a polar bear viciously attacking armed men cinched the deal for me when contemplating whether to purchase their music. Also, every song sounds like the gruesome act depicted in the detailed illustration, so they get bonus points for appropriately complementary iconography.

I Am David Sparkle, This Is The New [Kitty Wu; 2007]

Okay so the actual visual, especially in JPEG form, of this album is nothing notable. But what makes holding the album cover in your hands so special upon purchasing the glistening and climactic instrumental guitar music of Singapore's I Am David Sparkle is that in order to get to the CD, you have to at least partially destroy its paper casing upon which the artwork is printed. Sewed together on all four sides with black thread, it is impossible to remove the disc from the packaging without ripping its cover, forcing you to work, to undo, to disassemble the art in order to hear the music. Call me a sucker, but I love pretentious shit like this.

Owen, At Home With [Polyvinyl; 2006]

Maybe I'm just an idiot, but I owned this album for a good two months before I noticed the item of mystery behind its cover's photographic composition. There the record sat, in my car's passenger seat, every single day for weeks as I listened to it obsessively on repeat, until one night I parked in my garage, picked it up to bring inside as the dim overhead light helped me catch a new found glimpse of its front side. Suddenly, as I stared, crickets chirping and the engine finally whirring down to a slight whine, I noticed it. Behind the fog, lying on the grass amongst the intimidating sprawling tree and foliage I finally saw it. If you're like me and don't see it right away, look closer. Hopefully when you notice it, it won't be as the automatic light in your car and garage turn off simultaneously and freak you out to the point of smacking your head on the door.

Boo

Nirvana, Nevermind

This is probably one of the most iconic album covers of my generation. I mean, you have the triumvirate of power, all captured here in a perversely simple image: money, penis, and swimming pools. (I could get all pretentious here, and talk about the imagery as symbolism for the delicate balance between life and death, but honestly, it's been a long day and I really just want to give this bottle of wine a blow job.)

Ween, Chocolate & Cheese

I had to add my own boobage. Ween and a pro-wrestling reference. I'm Southern. Need I say more? Oh yeah: blowjob.

Aphex Twin, Windowlicker

Jez: I see your Zipgun cover and raise you an Aphex Twin.

Sleep tight, kids.