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In Rotation...

Pony Pants - Till Death Do Us Party Tiny Idols, Vol. 2: Transmissions From the Indie Underground, 1995-1999 Van She EP
Brown Recluse Sings - Black Sunday Soulwax - Nite Versions The Pipettes - We Are The Pipettes












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Welcome to BadmintonStamps. We're Philabuster and SkinnySlim, representing Philly and NYC respectively. We are very good looking. Thanks.

August 31, 2006


Thursday Photo Essay


She's Not The Same, Oh No, She's Different








Thursday Photo Essay


Fasten Your Seat Belts




August 30, 2006


It's Always Linking In Philadelphia


There are podcasts, and then there are Sean-spotting, show-previewing, Tecate-fuelled podcast free-for-alls. Guess which one R5
just unleahsed on the world?

R5 Bonus Link: pictures of the new venue upstairs at Johnny Brenda's, along with line-ups for some of the first R5 shows being held there.

All sorts of good tastes converge over at Pitchfork. Not only do they pay due respek to "The Get Go" from New Young Pony Club, a band that the 'Stamps has been tellin' you about since Nick And Jessica were still together, but they also throw in a trend-spotting mention for our most recent Friday Freakout subjects Pony Pants. The new wolf, you say? Nah, try pony-wave.

If you're concerned that Philebrity lacks a certain objectivity when it comes to The A-Sides, please be reassured: they're currently knockin' on the door of a house called "The Big Time", and when it opens up for them and their new album in Januray, woo boy! Catch 'em for free tonight in Rittenhouse Square, 7-9 PM.

Do you realize that while you've been sitting there watching 2006 just whiz right past you, The Spinto Band have become a huge fucking deal? It's only a matter of time before "Oh Mandy" CD singles replace high quality screen doors as Wilmington's leading export. They're playing at the World Cafe Live tonight at 10 PM, free when you RSVP.




Apocolypse Floss


You can tell a lot about a person by which kind of floss, if any, they use. First we have the non-waxers. They like it rough and wild, unafraid to get up in their mouths with a hard-core attitude. Then there's the waxed floss users. A bit more refined, delicate. Maybe they even like their floss garnished with the smooth taste of mint. It's a more glamorous, elegant method. For example, when flossing their
delicate bottoms, I definitely prefer my ladies to be waxed. I myself use a decidedly fancy-pants method. It's probably cause I'm a bit more, shall we say....aristocratic than the average pleb. That's why I always floss my teeth with crisp dollar bills. As my fellow money flosser Robert Duvall once told me: "Dollar bills, son. I love the taste of ink died, coke stained, dollar bills in the morning. You know, one time I had eaten raw sturgeon and gefilte fish for twelve hours. When it was all over I flossed with a crisp dollar bill. I didn't find one of 'em, not one stinkin' dink food scrap. The taste, you know that crisp bill taste, the whole mouth. Tasted like... victory."



August 29, 2006


A Piece Of Actr-ASS


You call
that a knife? This is a knife! [replace "knife" with "contest"]. Here's the latest chance for us to make you a winner. The prize? A mix cd entitled SkinnySlim: The Best of The Pony. The disc will not only feature the most exclusive compilation of Pony Tracks posted by yours truly, but also one-of-a-kind, personalized artwork! All you have to do is wrap your head around a simple brain teaser. Only three of the following ten actresses have NOT appeared nude on film:

Toni Collette
Kyra Sedwick
Rene Zellweger
Stockard Channing
Laura Linney
Sally Field
Marcia Gay Harden
Marilu Henner
Rene Russo
Diane Wiest

Name one (only ONE!) of those three modest actresses. I will then randomly choose three winners from the pile of correct answers. Email your guess to SkinnySlim@BadmintonStamps.com. Contest ends this Friday. And when you've scrubbed your mind of the image of those ladies naked, you can take solace in Richard Avedon's pubic friendly pic of Miss Chan Marshall (nsfw).




BadmintonStamps Giveaway: MTV $2 Bill - My Chemical Romance


Umbrella choreography. Understood by few, underappreciated by many, it is in fact as important an American institution as baseball, apple pie, and imported Japanese automobiles. Without umbrella choreography,
Gene Kelly would just be some moron jumping in puddles. And if it wasn't for that sharply executed, albeit brief, synchronized parasol work in the opening credits, "Friends" would have been cancelled halfway through the pilot. And that's why, if it has to be somebody (and you know it does), then we nominate My Chemical Romance for the title of quintessential American emo band. The John Cougar Mellancamp of the genre, if you will (has anybody approached these guys about a Farm Aid spot yet?). As if their inspired choreographical use of the ol' Swaine Adeney wasn't enough of a contribution to society, they'll be swingin' through Philly to give our beloved Trocadero some prime time national exposure next Wednesday, September 6th, when they perform for the latest installment of MTV's $2 Bill. Tickets sold out last Saturday like whoa, but you can go ahead and call us the Kula Ring, 'Stampers, 'cause we're gifting a pair of passes upon one of you beautiful people. Just send an e-mail with the subject "I HEART UMBRELLAS, FELLAS" to contest@badmintonstamps.com, and include your name and an address where the tickets can be delivered. We'll give you until 11:59PM Sunday night to get your e-procrastinatin' asses in gear before we pick a winner at random. Any later than that is simply not okay.



August 28, 2006


Irresistible Allen Wrench


If you frequent the on-line home of Philadelphia's NBC 10, then you're familiar with
Irresistible Ella, the virtual anchorwoman introduced earlier this year. Her insightful commentary and playful monotone have even made her a subject of extensive coverage by other local media outlets. But perhaps the only thing more curious than her one independedently mobile strand of hair or the uncanny regularity of her blinking is the fact that, in truth, we know very little about her. So naturally, BadmintonStamps tried to dig up some personal dirt from the best source possible: her mother. Meet Anna, who works as IKEA's Automated Online Assistant here in the US. Anna is mute, which may explain why her daughter grew up lacking a firm grasp on the finer points of vocal inflection. Still, with her impetuous copper locks and affable head tilt, the family resemblence is unmistakable. So why hasn't Ella ever mentioned her before? The silence may have something to do with the fact that Anna is, by all accounts, extremely self-centered. What's more, she seems all too happy to jump on the xenophobic Joe Vento bandwagon, so I can understand how an important community icon like Ella would want to distance herself. Because god forbid anybody should have the nerve order their Swedish meatballs in Swedish, huh mom?




Spaceboy Music: See You (Later) In September


And here you thought corporate mega retailers like Tower Records were the only ones stepping in
fiscal dog doo. Turns out that local establishment Spaceboy Music will be closing its doors for good toward the end of next month. From the horse's mouth e-mail:

After about a decade of life on Philadelphia's South Street, Spaceboy Music has decided to retire and close its doors late-September. We will miss the excitement when bands like Notwist, Godspeed You Black Emperor, Sigur Ros, Belle and Sebastian, Espers, RJD2, Sunn)), Jack Rose and Radiohead were new and we could bring them to you. We were always excited to share what we liked with you and were even more excited when you showed us something new.

The world is different. The music industry has changed, technology has changed, South Street has changed. For Spaceboy Music, its time for a change.

Tower storefronts in Philly have recently begun offering a Buy Four, Get One Free deal on CDs and DVDs. Spaceboy is upping the antee, with 20% off pretty much everything in the store. Meanwhile, R5 Productions says they'll be opening up two new box office locations to offset the loss of Spaceboy's ticket selling operations, which will be running as usual until the close of the store. On a personal note, count the 'Stamps boys among those pouring a little out onto the ground for this unfortunate loss. There were few traditions more emblematic of that indescribeable Philly zen than a lazy Sunday afternoon walk downtown to peruse the racks, followed inevitably by a cheesesteak from Jim's. Via con dios, Spaceboy. And when you get wherever it is you're going, say hi to Zipperhead for us.




The Pony Track Whispers Sweet Nothings


Comin' atcha first thing every Monday morning, it's The Pony Track, a super-fantastic long distance dedication to BadmintonStamps Collective founding member Aaron "Pony" Child. No fancy links, no clever write-ups, 'cause these awesome songs don't need no splainin'. So c'mon, ride the pony!



August 25, 2006


Ridin' Clean


Is it possible that we posted no hip-hop all week? Have we lost our minds? Thankfully, as the last minutes of the week wind down, SkinnySlim is here to save the day. With the end of summer fast approaching, let's post one of the dirtiest songs of the hot season, keeping it clean for irony's sake.




The Friday Freakout Has Huge Matzoh Balls


Comedian Jackie Mason has filed a lawsuit against Jews For Jesus, those duckbilled platypi of the religious world, after his image was used on a promotional pamphlet distributed by the group's recruiters throughout New York. Now, exactly how
this face is supposed to effectively recruit anybody to do anything is a topic of speculation for another day. More troubling is the fact that Jackie seems to have taken this incident not only as an assault on his Jewish identity, but as some sort of attack on his very masculinity. He doth protest, "While I have the utmost respect for people who practice the Christian faith, the fact is, as everyone knows, I am as Jewish as a matzo ball or kosher salami." Salami and balls, eh Jackie? And god forbid they keep using your "shtick" for missionary purposes. Look, it doesn't take a Jerry Seinfeld to see that there's something else weighing on your mind besides the bizarro heebs - not that there's anything wrong with that. All I'm sayin' is, these over-the-top displays of macho phalic language in the press aren't going to bring you any closer to the one person you most need to get in touch with: yourself. If the reporters need a statement on the legal proceedings, then go ahead and explain your position. But the last thing you want to do is drag a private sexual pickle into the middle of a public religious beef.


As previously mentioned, catch Pony Pants this Saturday night at Danger! Danger! House.



The Amoeba Sessions/The Friday Jazzout: Savoy Records


Last week, SkinnySlim jaunted to the West Coast for business meetings relating to a new bunny rabbit painting venture. Between power point presentations, he found time to visit the Mecca of record stores, Amoeba Music. This week he brings you selected winnings from the trip.

I picked up Stompin At The Savoy: Red Hot Blues 1948-51, a collection from Herman Lubinsky's Newark jazz and blues label, because of one song title. The last track is by Miss Sharecropper and is called "I Want To Rock". How could I resist such a racially offensive, sexually suggestive, and potentially bombastic declaration? But the decent "I Want To Rock" (where Miss S. claims to have "just killed a fifth and I'm in the groove") is the tip of the iceberg on a surprisingly strong set. The Beale Street Gang's "Fat Stuff Boogie" is actually the work of Milt Buckner, recording with a pseudonym because he was under contract with Lionel Hampton. Producer Teddy Reig recalled, "We used to get records played by a Jewish wine distributor who sponsored a radio show. Believe it or not, Mogen David wine was really popular in the black neighborhoods, so this could really move records. It created a big stir for the Beale Street Gang. People were desperate to book them." But since Buckner couldn't legally perform without Hampton, Savoy's booking agent hired a vocal group from California called the Beale Street Boys. The Boys sounded nothing like The Gang, were promptly fired after their first show, and everyone blamed the Jews.




Be It House Or Block, That's What Philly Can Rock


Tonight, enter a magical land of unintimidatingly progish wonder and delight at the
North Star with Aloha. Just be sure you keep your grubby little mitts off the Stella.

Early Saturday evening, Philebrity's got the hotness over at their Series 1021 Block Party. The hotness being, of course, Human Television (pic'd) at 6:45.

When you're done rockin' the block, head over to Plain Parade's crazy-go-nuts all ages house party in West Philly. Danger! Danger! House is gonna play host to five different acts, each performing in a different nook or crany, including the incorrigible Pony Pants posse "upstairs" at 10:45. Just five bucks? Hipstah pleeze!

Quick look ahead: Spinto Band is playing a free show at World Cafe Live next Wednesday night. RSVP here. Other recently announced shows of note include Ratatat at the Khyber (10/5), and Philabuster faves Mojave 3 at the North Star (10/22).




I Don't Know Art, But I Know What I Link


Impress Beck with your mad stickering skillz. Submit your adhesively improved
new album cover for October's The Information, and Mr. Hansen himself will select the best entry. At stake: what we can only assume is a spectacular prize.

Tokyo Police Club also want your art, but they're not restricting you to the sticker medium. Send in that oil-on-canvas or pencil-on-napkin masterpiece you've been slaving over, and it could end up on a TPC poster, t-shirt, or album cover. Or, ya know, in the Canadian garbage.

Syringes magically align, and the anti-Christ of rock supergroups is born in a London rehab clinic. Or not.

Fuhgetabout ladies. The final season of "The Sopranos" ain't over 'till the Fat Joe sings.

Festival attendee throws a Bottle! At The Disco.



August 24, 2006


The Amoeba Sessions: Guitar Slim


Last week, SkinnySlim jaunted to the West Coast for business meetings relating to a new soil drying venture. Between power point presentations, he found time to visit the Mecca of record stores, Amoeba Music. This week he brings you selected winnings from the trip.

Some things I learned about Guitar Slim from liner notes written by somebody named Almost Slim (seriously guys, slow your roll on stealing my style):

- He dyed his hair red or blue to match his sharkskin suits
- He would strap chartreuse coats to his station wagon
- He often performed while swinging from the club's rafters
- He would frequently jump onto the shoulders of a large valet and be carried through the club and into the parking lot where he would complete his solos
- He fancied obese women

What I learned from listening to Guitar Slim's Atco Sessions is that the cat could play the blues with Girlfriend Track worthiness. Check it.




Thursday Photo Essay


Girls Could Not Resist His Stare





Thursday Photo Essay


Mrs. Peter Doherty?





You Ready To Get Harlem Shook?


If somebody asks you what you're up to this fine Thursday night in Philadelphia, just remember that there's a right and a wrong answer. The right answer is "I'm going to see
BadmintonStamps Showcase alums The Harlem Shakes at The Khyber!" The wrong answer is anything else. Now seriously, y'all know that it ain't the 'Stamps style to bust out lots of told-ya-so's, but just listen to the tunes, people! That's all I'm sayin'. As if catching the magicians behind our unanimously selected Best EP of '05 wasn't enough, you can also get your scene card punched with a headlining set from spring blogsation Beirut. $10, doors at 9PM. There is no good excuse.




Snakes In A Snakes On A Plane


Who knows what's getting into people in the nation's
soon-to-be 5th lamest largest city of Phoenix, AZ. Maybe it's the relentless desert heat. Maybe it's the monotonous lack of allergens. Maybe it's the state-mandated fake french fries they force upon their young. In any event, here's what we do know: Two venemous rattle snakes were released inside a crowded theater screening Samuel Jackson's magnum opus, caused a panic(!), and were eventually "wrangled". A nerd brings it:

"That to me is very scary," herpetological association representative Tom Whiting said. "I would hate to be watching a movie about snakes and have a rattlesnake bite me."

Yeah, not the deepest of analyses, but just how much brillant insight do you expect from an expert on herpes? One thing is clear, though: these Phoenixers (Phoenicians? Phoenies?) get way too into their movies. Showing up to the cineplex in a Darth Vader or Frodo Baggins costume is one thing, but sacks of black mambas represent a level of cinéma vérité with which I'm just not comfortable.



August 23, 2006


On Motherfucking Language: Horses


In this feature, inspired by William Safire's New York Times Magazine column "On Language", SkinnySlim explores the etymology of popular off-color words and phrases.

"Fuck you and the horse you rode in on" - Currently used to reprimand a rude individual with a superiority complex, the actual sentiment is quite vulgar. Some maintain it first appeared in a 1917 "midnight blue" song entitled "Hi-Tootin', Pig Shootin' Boogie", performed by Patches McPhingers and His Merry Dumpsters. "Midnight blue" songs were riffs on vaudevillian numbers known for their blatant use of profanity. In the aforementioned tune, Patches sings, "Iz luvs you baby, but Iz don't know what to do/Cause if youin't gonna get off your high horse ima gonna fuck you and that pretty mare too." The phrase's origins date back even further, however, to 17th Century Russia and Catherine the Great. Catherine is infamously known for her predilection for bestiality, particularly with the equine species . As legend goes,
Grigori Potemkin, Catherine's former lover and Russian field general, returned from a poor showing in the Russo-Turkish War. Instead of showing modesty, he literally rode into the Palace on his horse, named Bernard. As servants took Bernard away, Potemkin bragged of his courage and how he had saved Russia from an even worse fate. Incensed, Catherine summoned Bernard from his stable and proceeded to engage in sexual relations with the animal. She then demanded the General "engage" with her, but due to his disgust and humiliation, he was unable to perform. Catherine dramatically proclaimed, "I planned on fucking you and the horse you rode in on, General Potemkin, but yet again you have failed Mother Russia!"




The Amoeba Sessions: Sonic Youth


Last week, SkinnySlim jaunted to the West Coast for business meetings relating to a new miniature tennis venture. Between power point presentations, he found time to visit the Mecca of record stores, Amoeba Music. This week he brings you selected winnings from the trip.

Be My Sister In Death is a live bootleg primarily recorded at a show in New York in 1987. Performed around the time of Sonic Youth's seminal Sister album, the set features mostly songs from the album, played with expected intensity. Someone (Thurston?) introduces the first song as "Sister", although it is actually titled "Schizophrenia" on the album. Sonic Youth dorks unite!




Rage, Rage Against The Closing Of The Bar!


Philly: Why did I get yelled at by the entire staff of the Northstar bar at the end of the night? Because when the place was closing and all the bartenders left I took it upon myself to tend bar. Look man, if all you have to do is pull a giant unattended lever that says 'Stella Artois' on it to keep the party alive for you and 5 of your friends consider it done.

Shame on you, North Star staff. Take away a rock-n-roller's beer, and you take away his dreams. What was the rush? Did you have to wake up early the next morning to go tell a class of kindergartners that none of them will ever be astronauts? The children are our future, people, and I want these kids dreaming big and drinking bigger. Not since The Great Diamond Nights Radio Riot have we seen evidence of a band with this much unadulterated - and downright fuckin' admirable - partyonitude. Note to self: get both these acts together for a 'Stamps showcase some time down the road. They seem like they'd get along with eachother, and us, just swimmingly.



August 22, 2006


The Amoeba Sessions: Bandera Blues and Gospel


Last week, SkinnySlim jaunted to the West Coast for business meetings relating to a new plexiglass animal sculpture venture. Between power point presentations, he found time to visit the Mecca of record stores, Amoeba Music. This week he brings you selected winnings from the trip.

Blues and Gospel from the Bandera, Laredo, and Jerico Road labels of Chicago is not only a long-assed album title, it's also a treasure trove of late fifties and sixties blues and gospel from the Bandera, Laredo, and Jerico Road labels, located in the heart of Chicago. Run by mother/son dynamic duo Violet Muszynski and Bernie Harville out of their own house, the labels were strictly small potatoes (Bernie worked as a bus driver to help support efforts). Still, they managed to release an impressive stream of well recorded songs highlighting their hometown. Part Indian (N. American), part Black, Jimmie Lee Robinson was nicknamed the Prince of the Blues and apparently sometimes performed wearing a turban. According to the liner notes, he recently went on a hunger strike at the age of 70 to try to save legendary blues block Maxwell Street from destruction. The spare, airy production and Robinson's somewhat squawky voice work to perfection on the haunting "All My Life". Elder Samuel Paterson, a reverend known for his raucous preaching style and rhythmic guitar playing, laid down an upbeat number for Muszynski and Harville's Jerico label in 1963.




Too Young


As we've discussed before on BadmintonStamps, there are certain rites of passage that almost any celebrity aiming for the "rock star lifestyle" will have to undergo. In an effort to clear up any confusion over said rites, let's examine the recent missteps of several rock star wannabes. Now, engaging in sexual relations with multiple young women is obviously a crucial element of any legitimate bad boy image. Unfortunately, MTV's Vincent "Don Vito" Margera overshot the target by just a wee bit (
er, six years). Right idea, Don, but if their vote doesn't count, neither do they. New York Mets catcher Paul Lo Duca demonstrated much better execution, with legal, 19-year old booty calls apparently lined up in every city he frequented. Problem here is, when you're married to a Playboy model (nsfw), these kids on the side don't make you look pimpin'; they just make you look stupid, a little desperate, and probably prone to beer goggles. Of course, abuse of alcohol and drugs is another key aspect of rock star mystique. But it's far from a panacea, and Tom Chaplin, lead singer of Keane, would do well to remember that. Cancelling tour dates and going into rehab is an admirable effort in most cases. But when you look like an overgrown toddler, all the addictions in the world won't make you seem any harder than Haley Joel Osment. Actually, I take that back. 'Cause for a youngster, Osment's puttin' on a fucking clinic.




Unlucky Number


Luck is a tricky thing, open to interpretation. In current indie hit Little Miss Sunshine, Greg Kinnear claims "Luck is the name losers give to their own failings." In Titanic, Mr. Billy Zane takes a more proactive stance, saying "I make my own luck." Woody Allen offers a different view; "Talent is luck. The important thing in life is courage." Inspiring words, especially coming from the man who said, "Life is like a concentration camp... you can't leave without dying." But whether luck is an excuse, an opportunity, or ultimately irrelevant, we can all agree that lucky numbers are real. If you're a follower (7), a devil-may-care vagabond (13), or an unpredictable individual (429), your lucky number defines you. I'll never forget the time in middle school when I told the Local Chapter of Bullies that my lucky number was Pi. I thought I was being real clever, what what with my "decimal points" and "infinite chain of digits". They didn't see it that way. The LCBs proceeded to beat the crap out of me, holding me upside down and making me recite as many Pi numbers as I could (forty two!). Then they poured chocolate milk down my corduroy shorts. And in a final insult, I was brutally wet willied nine times in each ear. "Why nine?", I pleaded. "Cause it's our lucky number, Pi-hole."



August 21, 2006


The Amoeba Sessions: Sue Records


Last week, SkinnySlim jaunted to the West Coast for business meetings relating to a new fish weighing venture. Between power point presentations, he found time to visit the Mecca of record stores, Amoeba Music. This week he brings you selected winnings from the trip.

Soul of Sue Records chronicles Henry "Juggy Murray" Jones' New York City R&B label. Founded in 1957 and sold in '68, Sue Records was distinguished by it's rough and sexy urban sound and the striking orange and black labels on their 45's. Sue's breakthrough act was Ike and Tina Turner, who recorded several hits during their years with Juggy, including "A Fool In Love". Featuring a funky-assed back beat, Ike's expert production, and Tina's stunning raw howl, this is one hot rock song. Ike's influence on the label extended beyond his own group. He produced and wrote many other tracks for Sue, including the saxilicious "My Man Rockhead", recorded by Ikette back-up singer Eloise Hester (recording under "Eloise Carter"). Finally we have The Blenders with their "funny cause it's true", over-the-top story song about the perils of making romance in the graveyard with a lady friend.




The Pony Track (Track! Track! Track!)


Comin' atcha first thing every Monday morning, it's The Pony Track, a super-fantastic long distance dedication to BadmintonStamps Collective founding member Aaron "Pony" Child. No fancy links, no clever write-ups, 'cause these awesome songs don't need no splainin'. So c'mon, ride the pony!



August 18, 2006


The Friday Freakout's At A Rolling Boil


Used to be that any chef could dream of hitting the gastronomical big time. You could step up the the stove looking like a
Nick Nolte mugshot and sporting four different speech impediments. If your demiglaze dazzled and your bouillabaisse was bomb, none of that mattered. A 400-page hardcover recipe book, perhaps even a signature line of cookware or bottled marinades was yours, as well as the paycheck and pseudo-celebrity status that accompanied them. But in the age of Food Network, sex sells, and faces made for a closed kitchen need not apply. Granny and her apple pie just aren't going to draw in as many viewers as the fresh faced girl with the perky fritatas, so today's hosting hopefulls have to kick it up a notch in the beauty department. Some will argue that the quality of the food has suffered as a result. The sincere but quite mannish Julia Child would devote hours to a single elaborate pièce de résistance. Today, shows hosted by knockouts like Rachael Ray, Sandra Lee, and the truly incomparable Giada De Laurentiis all focus on quick, simple recipes, many featuring canned ingredients or store-bought short cuts. But, as Swedish new wavers Marble are quick to point out, it takes time to look good, maybe even more than it does to cook good. And if these baking beauties want to spend more time in front of the mirror than the oven, I'm certainly not going to complain about the on-screen results.

Download: Marble - "BAM!"



Cause They Needed The Money


Some celebrity ads from Japan to get you through the day...

Travolta dances for
Tokyo Drink.

Brad Pitt sings for 503 Jeans.

Sean Connery drives for...a large house made of yogurt? This one permanently scarred me during my childhood years living in Japan.

Nice laugh, Governor. And a more zen-like Arnold sips Cup O' Noodles.

George Lucas and those kooky Storm Troopers shoot the film the Star Wars prequels should have been.

Open your eyes, Andy-san! Mr. Warhol manages to make his ad a bizarre work of art. Classic.

Does Ewen McGregor count as a celebrity?


August 17, 2006


This Weekend Is The End Of Rock As Philly Knows It


When you were younger and more naive (read: May '06), you saw The Subjects open up for Guillemots over at the WCL, and were instantly wrapped up in the musical equivalent of a feverish teenage summer camp fling, wildly passionate yet oh so brief. Now, three months older and lifetimes more experienced, fate has brought you back together again. You've both seen other people, sure, but the chemistry you shared was singular and unique, and you both know it. Rekindle the flame, tonight at
The Fire.

Friday night, The Foundry Field Recordings (pic'd) bring their business and their pleasure to the stage at the Millcreek Tavern. If there's any other show in Philly this millenium on which fans of new school Yeah Yeah Yeahs and old school Built To Spill will be more in agreement, I sure as fuck don't know what it is.

Saturday at The Khyber, after a stretch of time that feels as much like ten years as it does a decade, This Radiant Boy extend their middle fingers in the classic rock n' roll salute one last time, then bid a fond farewell to the whole "band" concept, which, truth be told, is getting pretty dated itself. Seriously, fuck bands. Bring on the second glorious age of the player piano, I say. The world is ready.




Thursday Photo Essay


The Bambi Sequel? Direct To Video.





Thursday Photo Essay


Welcome...To The Rock




August 16, 2006


Macaca 'Tis Of Thee


Last night, the world bid a teary, sappily-scored goodbye to seven more strangers picked to live in a house and so on and so forth. Once more, friendships were formed, lessons were learned, and flamboyant homosexual stereotypes were reinforced. The show's producers would have us believe that the main throughline was blonde basketcase Paula Moronek's magical transformation from punching bag
to glove, but damned if there wasn't an underlying "little fake tanning salon that could" morality play in there as well, an optimistic affirmation that, hey, it's O.K. to be dark skinned. Of course, you and I know that MTV's carefully edited vignettes don't truly reflect the world at large. Thank goodness Virginia Senator George Allen was man enough to stop being polite and remind us that the real real world starts and ends south of the Mason Dixon, a world where flashing your melanin-advantaged skin is only going to earn you the scorn and contempt of your peers. About the only thing the two real worlds have in common, it seems, is the abundance of soundtrack opportunities, this latest one courtesy of ex-Art Brutster Chris Chinchilla's new outfit, Macaca Mulatta. Thanks to the Senator's penchant for nicknames, these agreeably pale rockers can expect a whole bunch of errant Google searches ending up on the doorsteps of their MySpace page. And when you're just trying to get some attention in the world of indie rock, it don't get much realer than that.




The Girlfriend Track Gots The Power


The Girlfriend Track is song that SkinnySlim deems sexy for a lady to feel. We're talking about songs where, if my girl said "Yo, turn this up", I would be turned on.

This one speaks for itself.



August 15, 2006


ScoopBack


Vacations are a double-edged sword at Pitchfork. On the one hand, they allow the review staff to do what they love most: answer questions nobody was asking, like "hey, so what was really the 186th best song of the 1960's?" On the other hand, plastering this listurbation on the welcome page cuts down on their precious page views. Instead of clicking an additional (sixth? seventh?) time to reach the news items or track reviews they want, people just temporarily abandon the site altogether. It's a shame, too, because then the truly deserving content on the main page goes unappreciated. Like
yesterday's scoop about Interpol signing to Capital Records. The 'Stamps likes this story, if for no other reason than the now excellent chance that Carlos D. will run into label mate and Decemberweenie Colin Meloy in the office halls and decide to totally freak the dude out. Maybe cough on him and rub his ass on Meloy's laptop keyboard, germ-ridden Elaine Bennes style. Also doomed to be overlooked: a four-star track review for Philly's own A Sunny Day In Glasgow, a sibling-heavy quartet who blast this glitched-up, fuzzed-out jangle in a way that would make both Fennesz and cover subjects Guided By Voices proud. But the absolute best summertime scoop getting ignored on P-fork this week? No doubt, it belongs to the blonde in that American Apparel ad. No matter. If Justin can bring back the sexy, then go ahead and call me Timbaland, 'Stampers, 'cause I'm gonna bring back the Scoop.




The Wedding Singer


Our dear friend Kayne West recently announced his
engagement. BadmintonStamps was lucky enough to intercept a transmission of this phone conversation between West and his "special friend", Jamie Foxx, discussing plans for the big event

K. West: James?
J. Foxx: West Village! I heard you gettin married, bro. Congrats.
K. West: Thanks, James. This is a once in a lifetime female. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find an upstanding, attractive women, willing to sign an air-tight non-disclosure agreement, who'll marry a homosexual?
J. Foxx: Dude, I've so been there.
K. West: True! Anyway, the theme of the wedding is "doves", cause, you know, I like totally love doves.
J. Foxx: Doves are hot.
K. West: At the end of the ceremony, we're going to release three hundred doves.
J. Foxx: Class.
K. West: Then, at dinner we're going to serve roasted dove infused with this sublime boysenberry essence. It's totally delish! For dessert we've got a whole doves dipped in white chocolate, but the chef is going to take out of their eyes and replace them with two sparkling diamonds, freshly ripped from the tender, amputated arms of Sierra Leone slaves.
J. Foxx: You know Pharrell ain't got that shit.
K. West: Please bitch, Pharrell would replace their eyes with cubic zirconium or something.
J. Foxx: (cackling) You didn't just say cubic zirconium!
K. West: Oh, I did. Then we're going to usher in the ice sculptures. Other rappers talk about their ice, but they ain't got ice sculptures.
J. Foxx: Ice sculptures are the new Bentleys.
K. West: There's gonna be like the hugest ice sculpture of me and Jesus playing golf and we're surrounded by doves. The way that the ice melts, it looks like the doves are crying. And that's where you come in.
J. Foxx: I totally know where you're going with this. I guess it's time to brush off the purple tux.
K. West: So you think you can sing it?
J. Foxx: Sing it? West Village, I'm gonna own it.



August 14, 2006


The Pony Track Has More Fun


Comin' atcha first thing every Monday morning, it's The Pony Track, a super-fantastic long distance dedication to BadmintonStamps Collective founding member Aaron "Pony" Child. No fancy links, no clever write-ups, 'cause these awesome songs don't need no splainin'. So c'mon, ride the pony!



August 11, 2006


Don't You Wish Your Girlfriend Was Linked Like Me?


Plane tickets to Micronesia: 900 Ringgits. Exhibiting "gross indecency": 10,000 Ringgits. Inspiring a whole new batch of Zoolander jokes:
Priceless.

Swizz Beats = World Peace

Jaguar - the car for men who want handjobs from beautiful women they hardly know. Now with Diamond Nights! (video, via coolfer)

Geoff Barrow pussies out: "It was purely a response to a message that suggested he should produce our album. And to be honest I'm a grumpy old fuck who hates everything, cheers." And that, kids, is how you gingerly back out of a beef.

Big ups to the 'Fork for BNM-ing So This Is Goodbye, the forthcoming LP from 'Buster faves Junior Boys. Philly peoples can grab tix to their September 8th show at North Star here.

This weekend in the 2-1-5: Dave P. does the [click] thing at Fluid tonight. A-Sides at the 13th & Christian pool party tomorrow. Black Hollies at the Khyber tomorrow night.




The Friday Freakout's Trying To Make A Point


There's not much worth seeing inside the First Unitarian Church this evening, but there may very well be some entertaining activity outside. Last night's hardcore
Pointless Fest kick-off drew the ire of community and law enforcement alike after pervasive loitering, innumerable crimes of fashion, and one old-timey stick 'em up store robbery made residents in the neighborhood a wee bit uneasy. Consequently, the 21st block of Chestnut saw more bacon than an ultrasound machine, and now the R5 posse is on serious notice. Papa Agnew confirms: "The police gave us a day to 'get rid of your trouble makers' or you'll never have shows here again..Weeeee!" A beefed up security presence for the remainder of the festival will hopefully solve the problem of violent hold-ups and general scumbaggery, though it seems unlikely that any of the attendees will be talked out of their mohawks or grease paint. On the bright side, this fest still looks like a basket full of kittens compared to the fest of '04. And if the police do roll in once again? Well, a good siren can do wonders for a rock song. UK's nu-rave standard bearers Klaxons pretty much had to include one in this week's Friday Freakout. Otherwise, unsuspecting crowds (like the one they'll be playing for at Making Time this November along with Hot Chip! Scoop!) would have no warning of just how incredibly hard they were going to be rocked. Heed the sirens, 'Stampers, for your safety and everyone else's.




A Link To The Far East


Japan, Testicles, and Tongue Twisters. Just
check it out.

YouTube Classic: Watch Crispen Glover, presumably tripping on acid, freak out David Letterman, definitely a douchebag.

Vanessa Chien Ming Lan writes in: "it's my birthday today, but i'm stuck in heathrow airport because of the terrorists. they took my blistex. can i please get a song in my honor to cheer me up? don't let my name fool you by the way, i'm only half asian." Here's hoping all your birthday wishes come true. And may I say that you write very good English, considering.


Gimme more Half Japanese! I'm on a huge Charmed Life kick and I'm digging the Clarence Clemons-esque horns on their sweet ballad. I guess that makes this track Half Jap's "Secret Garden".


Janet F. emails: "Can you please dedicate a Girlfriend Track to me? Sadly, I know it means I'm not your Girlfriend, but I can dream, can't I? I have a soft spot for country if you would be so kind to oblige." As Janet clearly knows, I have a soft spot for flirtation and would be more than happy to oblige.


Oh, what the hey, it's Friday. Here's the E Street Band mimicking Half Japanese.



August 10, 2006


Thursday Photo Essay


Coulda Had A Bentley But I'd Rather Ride Chevy





Thursday Photo Essay


Spies Like Us




August 9, 2006


Le Copine Chanson Est Libre Oiseau


The Girlfriend Track is song that SkinnySlim deems sexy for a lady to feel. We're talking about songs where, if my girl said "Yo, turn this up", I would be turned on.

During the courting process I'll inevitably tell a lady about the 'Stamps. Then I imagine them actually reading this crap. Besides the corny jokes, I've encouraged children to
sell crack, dedicated songs to hot girls, relayed stories about exes, and dropped quotes like "Fuck the fucking Jews." Still, the cool girls understand. Which brings up another delicate courting/website situation: The Girlfriend Track. The Gee-Tee is a hit with these "cool girls", but I fear they can use it to tie me down. Take, for example, this French chick I've been seeing. Let's call her Charlotte Rampling. This past weekend Charlotte and I jaunted upstate to a Bed and Breakfast. When this sultry number came on my speakers, Charlotte exclaimed, "Oh, it's zee Air! Wery pop-u-larr in Franz. Wery sexy muzik. You shoul make dis a Gurrlfriend Track on your lit-ile vebsite, the Badminto Stamphs [sic]." I like Charlotte, but she's not my one-and-only. And I don't want her to think she has free reign over the Girlfriend Track, lest you be inundated with Édith Piaf, Jordy, and Jerry Lewis soundtracks. Just as I was about to counter with a, "Slow yo' roll, Froggy", Charlotte read my mind. She smiled coyly, "Jon't think just cuz I request Gurrlfriend Track dat I am gurrlfriend, ho-kay?" Then she put the song on again, did a cute can-can, and I went downstairs for some warm scones (if ya know what I'm saying!*) Ahh, the French; so cowardly yet so progressive.


*I'm saying that I actually went downstairs for some warm scones.



How Solo Can You Go?


It's been a tough year for televised marriages, let me tell you. While the general divorce rate for American marriages is standing pat at around 50%, MTV has seen every single one of its celebrity couples call it quits in just the past few months. Back in July, while the nation was still reeling from the end of Nick and Jessica's Newlywed fairytale, Carmen Electra and Dave Navarro announced that they, too, would be parting ways long before death
had any say in the matter. And now we can add Travis and Shanna Barker's sacred union to the wedding vow scrap heap. With a track record like that, it's no wonder that Laguna Beach sweethearts L.C. and Jason decided to nip things in the bud before a walk down the aisle was even discussed. Yep, it seems like 2006 is all about going solo. The year's legacy of independence continues in the world of non-televised music, as a steady stream of solo projects from established indie rock luminaries hits the shelves. Jenny Lewis kicked off the trend back in January, and has been followed by the likes Thom York, Emily Haines, and now Strokes guitarist Albert Hammond Jr. Hambone (as he's known here at 'Stamps headquarters) sees his debut album, Yours To Keep, drop in the UK this October. Make your first acquaintance with the new material by clicking thusly.


Of course, we couldn't do this blog thing all alone, so big thanks to our boy Dave over at wDMO for the hook-up. Blog Etiquette 101 dictates a link back to his site, as well as a mention of the two additional AH Jr. tracks awaiting your download once you get there.


August 8, 2006


Killing Nemo


Back in '89, Faith No More unleashed "
Epic" on unsuspecting teenagers everywhere. The video features a land-locked goldfish flipping wildly on a piano, only to be blown to bits when the piano explodes. Dramatic, sure, but the poor treatment of marine life caught the ire of animal rights activists, creating controversy for the group. The struggling fish in question belonged to none other than the Reykjavik Rebel herself, Bjork. As she told CNN several years ago, the singer/actress/artist/oddball brought said fish, whom she named Linear Soul Child, to a party at FNM keyboardist Roddy Bottum's house. But after an epic night of cavorting, frolicking, and hobnobbing, she thoughtlessly left without her beloved pet. The next time she saw Linear, he was flapping helplessly on top of that piano. This is yet another example of Bjork causing the World's problems (see also: Katrina, Mel Gibson, Lebanon, Don Knotts). If only she would stop her weather disturbing, anti-semite inducing, missile launching, Don Knotts bludgeoning ways, we could live in peace and cute fish wouldn't worry about being used as a death prop in rap metal videos. The time has come for our fellow men to stand up and demand this out-of-control Icelandic imp take responsibility for her loved ones and stop being so immature.




'Cause Nobody Links Me, It's True


Phoenix's live show is all about the schtick, and when it works, brother, it works. But seriosuly guys, what was up with that atonal, avante-garde, totally vibe-smothering guitar solo? If you were there Saturday night, then you know exactly what I'm talking about. What the fuck was that?

Geoff Barrow comes correct: "I'd rather poo in my mum's Sunday roast than have Danger Mouse produce a Portishead record. No offence." And
that, kids, is how you start a beef.

Guitarist Johnny Marr turned down an offer of $5M to reform The Smiths for one show, but has accepted Isaac Brock's offer of a signed Wolf Parade EP and some cheese doodles to join Modest Mouse full time.

Supernatural raps for eight hours and 45 minutes, setting a new world record for longest freestyle. Impressed audience member exclaims "Damn!" during the performance, matching the world record for shortest freestyle.

Etherial Finlandian pop purveyors Husky Rescue make it all so much easier tonight at The Khyber, with a set that promises to include enough ear and eye candy for everyone.




She's Just Talking...To The Kids


Over the past few days, attention has
slowly been gathering around the suspicious practices of supposedly indie podcast Bands Under The Radar. The podcast is produced by Kami Knake (pic'd), a humble electrical engineer from the University of Iowa who parlayed her brief mid-90's notoriety as the hot girl in Steel Ring into a job as New Media Coordinator at Warner Brothers Records. Kami's critics accuse her of covertly pedaling Warner propaganda under the guise of independent music, citing her frequent inclusion of songs from high profile artists on Warner's roster like Chris Isaak, Tom Petty and Better Than Ezra, as well as pointing out that her files are hosted on Warner's server. Recently, she fired back with a lengthy and detailed post, maintaining her indie status and explaining her choices. Some of the highlights:

- "Not every artist on my podcast or website may be ‘indie’ by your definition but the fact of the matter is every artist I feature is flying under someone’s radar."
- "how many baby boomers even know Chris [Isaak] has a new ‘Best Of’ record out with new songs on it?"
- "The kids don’t know about Petty and they need to know!"
- "Plus people are talking on their cell phones when they are in the car and not listening to radio!"
- "Who knew bandwidth was so expensive?!"

Ya gotta admit, the girl's argument holds water. Mobile phones are single-handedly (and sometimes even hands-freely) ruining the music business. And seriously, who among us could be expected to know about the high costs of bandwidth? Certainly not a New Media Coordinator with an engineering degree, that's who not. And that shit about Petty? Jesus! This woman should campaign for public office, 'cause she fucking gets it! The kids DO need to know about Petty! And who better to drop that knowledge than a red blooded, blonde-haired, All-American girl like you, Kami. So keep on keepin' on. If there's something better than Ezra, I haven't heard it yet. At least, not on your podcast.



August 7, 2006


Garden State: The Derrrty Version


Please peep the latest BadmintonStamps original creation. It's a most romantic scene.



Major props to DJ Ben Ha Meen and A. Finklestien for making it all possible. Watch the very not safe for work
Tip Drill video, featuring Nelly paying for a stripper's services by swiping a credit card through her ass. Our next original project? Making that technological dream a reality.




The Pony Track Rules Everything Around Me


Comin' atcha first thing every Monday morning, it's The Pony Track, a super-fantastic long distance dedication to BadmintonStamps Collective founding member Aaron "Pony" Child. No fancy links, no clever write-ups, 'cause these awesome songs don't need no splainin'. So c'mon, ride the pony!



August 4, 2006


The Friday Freakout's Always An Ultra Sound


Finally, a group of scientists that has their priorities straight! While the brain trust over in Taiwan is still geeked out over the
pig-as-nightlight concept, our good ol' American nerds are hard at work improving the one facet of a pig's character that you and I actually care about: the taste. Ultrasound, the same technology that's used to give expecting parents a first glimpse of their children, apparently doubles quite effectively as a futuristic pork flavo-meter, sorting through the ranks of visually indistinguishable swine and identifying which animals have juicier, tastier meat. I applaud the efforts of this crack research team, especially since their discoveries could have applications that reach far beyond the dinner table. If properly miniaturized (we could call in the Taiwanese for this part), ultrasound devices could become a huge part of everyday culture. As most men will attest, the advent of high-end, cleverly designed jeans has made it almost impossible to tell whether a woman has juice in the caboose, or merely junk in the trunk. We might think a woman is fit, but there's know way of knowing. But what if, instead of being potentially mislead by our eyes, we could just casually walk up and "scan dat ass". 'Cause when it comes to marbling, ya either got it or you don't. That, fellow 'Stampers, would be a bright future indeed, like the light of a million pigs bioluminescing all at once.




Give Us Your Tired, Your Poor, Your Delicious


As the immigration debate heats up this summer's political landscape, it's good to see the powers that be take a moderate, even forgiving position. For example, the manpower starved U.S. Armed Forces is now allowing illegal immigrants to serve
in exchange for citizenship. Even Dubya is taking a stance against his hardline conservative brethren and calling for a compassionate, comprehensive guest worker program. Unfortunately, Major League Baseball is not as forgiving when it comes to the wetbacks. Last week at the famed Milwaukee Brewer "Sausage Race", the team introduced a new mascot: The Chorizo. However, after just one illegal dash for the right field border, racist Commissioner Bud Selig nixed The Chorizo, because it was not properly registered as a new "character" or "promotion". Look Selig, this Chorizo is doing the work that other American mascots won't do, namely coming last in a Milwaukee sausage race. But never fear, sweet Chorizo; if the MLB won't take you, there's a front line in the Middle East that will. And I heard they love sausages over there.


Coincidental Factoid: Concrete Blonde drummer Paul Thompson returned to the group on their Mexican Moon album after sitting out their previous effort due to...immigration problems.


August 3, 2006


Where There's Smoke, There's Hot Philly Shows This Weekend


Tonight, take your pick. Oppenheimer bring their fuzzy-wuzzy electronipop all the way from the emerald isle to our very own
Khyber Pass. If sunny, psuedo-psychadelic guitars are more your speed, you can't afford to miss Brown Recluse Sings (pic'd) at Tritone, still all loosey-goosey from their Swedish massage last month. And what was that? Did somebody just say "half price"? Lordy!

Friday night at The Fire, Adam Arcuragi will make you forget all about how Will Sheff is totally blue-balling Philly this fall.

Saturday night, Phoenix at the Troc, supported by the French Kicks. Smokers welcome.




Thursday Photo Essay


Yes He Is





Thursday Photo Essay


Tight Squeeze, Great Song





Ain't It Amazin' How Crazy The Links Done Made Me


Both members of Michigan-based Skanbino Mob are murdered within days of eachother. Widowed fiancée Turquoise laments
the lemming-like nature of hip-hop fans. Result: album sales skyrocket.

Texas rapper and mule enthusiast Z-Ro disappears from the public eye for weeks. When it eventually surfaces that he's in jail, nobody has any idea why. Result: album may not be released.

Developers of New York's planned hip-hop museum in the Bronx offer some very stupid reasons why they refuse to include gangsta rap. The Source's Adam Matthews responds with some very stupid reasons why they should.

Download: G-Unit - "G'd Up"


August 2, 2006


Ned Beatty Just Missed The Cut


As
previously reported, me and a longtime lady friend have split. I've recently learned that said lady has a new paramour. While I'm certain the new man cannot live up to "The Legend of Skinny Slim" (soon to be a perfectly cast major motion picture; please check the teaser poster here), it did get me thinking about which men could challenge my dominance. In other words, excluding friends, what man would I least want an ex-girlfriend to date? After a lengthy round-robin preliminary, followed by a bracketed tournament filled with elite studly suitors, I have narrowed it down to two finalists. My "least want them to date an ex" contenders are... New York Yankee rookie sensation Melky Cabrera and Ghostface Killah. Why? Well, mostly cause I love the Yankees and I love the Wu. The loss of companionship I can deal with, but associating Melky or Ghost with an ex would make it difficult to enjoy the Bronx Bombers or the Staten Island Crew, and that's just too much to bear. Thankfully I can sleep easy, not only because the chances of this happening are small, but also because I know that most men's two finalists go by the names Philabuster and SkinnySlim.




Blogging There Is Half The Fun


Besides "open bar" and "
nude Fanning", there's just no sexier pair of words than "on location". A quick scan of some other prominent blogs here in the city of not the 2016 Olympics gives you all the evidence you need. Philebrity has taken off for parts unknown somewhere in the great uncharted wilderness of Northeast Philly. Given the questionable availability of high speed connections and wifi hot spots in that uncivilized region, we've produced this sketch of what we think editor Joey Sweeney may currently look like. Not to be outdone, our boy D-Mac at PWD is spending this week on location down at the Jersey shore...figuratively speaking. Here at the 'Stamps, we lack the funds necessary for a travel budget or even, sadly, a virtual travel budget. However, when I listen to this peppy little good-time jam from local boys Shout Magic, I totally feel like I'm right there, on location in good ol' Paisajungh, picnicing next to Lieutenant Swen's tomb, eating a cheesesteak I ordered in perfect English while gazing longingly across Pinneys Creek. Music is my news van, 'Stampers. Who's ready to roll?



August 1, 2006


I Think I Will Have Another Grape


Everybody knows that U2 lead singer Bono is a modern day messiah, what with his whole "save the world one cool wrap-around
pair of shades at a time" mission. What fewer people know is that guitarist The Edge is an accomplished philosopher in his own right. Take his stunning lyrical turn on "Numb". Less concerned with global issues and focused more on everyday existence, it's nothing short of a treatise on self improvement. Sure, it's heavily influenced by Timothy Leary's "Turn on, Tune in, Drop out" viewpoint, but it ultimately surpasses the original with the addition of a step-by-step guide to living a fulfilled life. Chicken Soup For The Soul be damned; this is the Tao of Edge. The text is extensive, but here is a selection of particularly wise words:

Don't fish; Don't work; Don't think; Don't move; Don't travel by train; Don't fill out any forms; Don't fall on your sword; Don't try; Don't breathe; Don't eat; Don't teach; Don't talk; Don't piss in the drain; Don't try and make sense; Have another grape

And of course, don't not listen to this song or watch the video. His sly comic performance would make even Plato proud.

Download: U2 - "Numb"



Ignorance Is Bliss


So often in life, we are tempted to give attention to things that, in the long run, we're better off ignoring; a mosquito bite, Terrell Owens, global warming. But breaking the habit is easier said than done. Looking left when there's a train wreck on the right doesn't come naturally to anyone, and Paul Anka can only repeat himself
so many times before he risks damaging those golden tenor pipes of his. Thank goodness Lindsay Lohan is picking up the slack for all of us. Just when hoards of twelve year-old girls in England were threatening to be mildly distracted by the release of her debut album, the so-called "party girl" seriously stepped it up a notch. According to record execs at Island, she ignored that sucker longer and more intensely than anything she's ever ignored before, including eating and the road in front of her. And sure enough, the problem has now disappeared. Album release cancelled, disaster averted, god save the queen. And Anka.



Music posted on this site is for sampling purposes only. If you enjoy the songs posted here, please go out and buy the records! If you are the copyright holder of any material posted here and would like it taken down, please contact Philabuster, and your request will be honored immediately. Please do not direct link to any of these songs. Thanks for your cooperation, and enjoy the sounds.

SkinnySlim's List



In Rotation...

Mama's Got A Bag Of Her Own Hot Chip - The Warning Panama: Latin, Calypso and Funk on the Isthmus 1965-75
Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Show Your Bones The Pipettes - We Are The Pipettes Benny Carter - 3, 4, 5: The Verve Small Group Sessions