Archive for the ‘Carrie Waite’ Category

By Carrie Waite

I like to think I’m a pretty connected person. What with MySpace (is anyone on there any more?), Facebook, RSS feeds, the “blogosphere”, Twitter and even good old fashioned email, one would assume that one would have heard about ones favorite band, Wilco, having announced news of an upcoming record, before today. One would be wrong. Somehow the news, that Wilco has nearly completed their next as yet to be named album, slipped through the matrix on it’s way to me. Until now. It’s expected to be available round June. Just in time for my birthday. Thanks, Jeff!

wilco2

This new record is stated to feature a guest appearance by Feist on at least one track, titled “You and I”, which makes me hope for more of the loveliness that kept my ears glued to their last record, Sky Blue Sky.

Rumored tracks, in no particular order and subject to change:

Deeper Down

Conscript (aka I’ll Fight)

One Wing

Solitaire

Wilco (the song)

Country Disappeared

Everlasting

Bull Black Nova

Sonny Feeling

You and I

 

Wilco performed their title song back in October on The Colbert Report, (Check it out here).

And if you’re not sick of Wilco yet, my pal Tracy and I are also heading down to the Sarasota Film Festival to pal around with Steve Buscemi (not really, but they say he’s going to be attending) and catch a screening of the upcoming Wilco documentary, Ashes of American Flags: Wilco Live  directed by Brendan Canty (Fugazi) and Christoph Green. Canty and Green are the creative force behind the gorgeus Burn to Shine DVD series

Here’s my wishlist, just in case they decide to make a Burn to Shine here in Tampa Bay and need suggestions (in no particular order):

Dumbwaiters

Pink Lincolns

Ronny Elliott

Will Quinlan and the Diviners

Rebekah Pulley 

Blast and the Detergents

Mosley

Have Gun Will Travel

The Weapons of Ass Destruction

Giddy-Up, Helicopter!

Magadog

Car Bomb Driver

 

Who else should be on the list?

By Carrie Waite

Growing up as a little one in the 1970s, my father ALWAYS had a beard. Always, in some form, in some various stage of growth, he was hairy and scary. I had this photograph of him that I was slightly obsessed with because you could actually see his bare face in it. It was either a mugshot or one of those photo booth pics. Let’s go with mugshot.  And I really hated his beard. Every time he’d pick me up for one of those “Dad Weekends”, he would insist on kissing my delicate little face and it felt like sandpaper ripping my skin off. But now, I seem to surround myself with the very thing that frightened me as a little girl. Hairy scary men.

So, tonight we started talking about how all the bands that are popping up in my iPod mix freaking have beards (maybe we’ll cover the ironic mustache trend in a future post, but don’t get me started on that right now). Half the magazine covers at Borders sport a beard (either a beard or Obama this week).

Death Cab For Cutie on The Big Takeover, Fleet Foxes on Under The Radar and even Zach Braff was all sorts of fuzzy on the cover of Geek Monthly. I heard your band must have at least one bearded member to get signed to Sup Pop nowadays and the New World Brewery is like a gang, no make that a secret club for boys with beards most nights. It makes me jealous that I can’t grow one.  

I admit it.  I think beards are pretty sexy, now. Even the scraggly, unkempt ones can have a certain Grizzly Adams charm to them. What is it about the beard? Is it simply a fashion accessory? A resurgent cultural phenomenon? Just plain laziness (this one gets my vote)? Damn manly though, if you ask me.  

Perhaps it’s a sign that my beloved indie-rock has become a “mature” genre. God forbid, are we getting old? Why do all my favorite men look homeless?

Carrie’s favorite hairy bands

The Dirtbombs
Lucero
Drag the River and Cory Branan
Band of Horses
TV On The Radio
Fleet Foxes
Turbonegro
Jeff Tweedy has had some adorable ones
and some really scary ones.
Most iconic beard goes to Lemmy
Sexiest beard has to be Dave Grohl’s

Some Blogs about beards:
John McNicholas even participated in a beard contest a few years back. He still has the stinkin’ thing. It’s adorable, John. 
And I hear jojoba oil is great for when you’re finally ready to rid yourself of the hairy beast on your face and shave it off.

But don’t.

By Carrie Waite

Best Albums:

Beck, Odelay (Re-issue w/ Bonus Disc)
The Black Keys, Attack & Release
Calexico, Carried To Dust
The Dirtbombs, We Have You Surrounded
Dr.Dog, Fate
Fleet Foxes, Fleet Foxes
Flight of the Concords, Flight of the Concords
Have Gun Will Travel, Casting Shadows Tall As Giants
The Magnetic Fields, Distortion
Rebekah Pulley, Back to Boogaloo
Will Quinlan & the Diviners, Navasota
Sun Kil Moon, April
Lucinda Williams, Little Honey
Wye Oak, If Children

By Carrie Waite

Monet   Monet (last sold for $80.4 million)
Stradivarius (last sold for $3.5 million)

Stradivarius (last sold for $3.5 million)

Crusty Ass Sex Pistols T-Shirt (last sold for $375)

Crusty Ass Sex Pistols T-Shirt (last sold for $375)

I’ve been obsessively mulling over the sales from the Punk/Rock Auction at Christies last Monday. Note that’s Punk/Rock, not Punk Rock. The majority of the auction was your typical Beatles/Elvis memorabilia. And does a violin signed by The Three Tenors classify as either Punk or Rock? Um, no.

The cultural implications of this type of auction didn’t really register when I first read about it last week in the New York Times.  Then the headline came across my RSS feed reader again today and I was curious just how much someone would pay for an original Clash Poster ($2,750 apparently).  I mean, Christies Auction House symbolizes the tippity top of the upper-echelon, right? Who else could afford to pay $13.5 million for a Basquiat that used to belong to the drummer from Metallica?

If the hippies became the yuppies, then what have the punks become? The puppies? Yeah, I know, that’s stupid.  I think we need a new term for the former anti-establishment. Any ideas?

As it turns out, after looking through the lots, it’s obvious that the upper-crust isn’t ready for the filth and the fury. Most of the “Punk” items sold for far less than their estimated value, except for the photo of Debbie Harry which sold for more than 5x the estimate.

A few highlights:

The highest selling “Punk” item of the auction, an autographed photo of Debbie Harry , sold for $8750 (estimated value $1,000 – $1,500).

The first two issues of “Bomp“, sold for $63 (estimated value $500 – $700).

Limited edition signed photo of Lou Reed from the cover of Transformer by photographer Mick Rock, sold for $1875 (estimated value $2,000 – $3,000).

The lot I wish I’d been there to purchase, a pair of rare Patti Smith poetry books, sold for $125 (estimated value $300 – $500). 

By Carrie Waite

Every Thanksgiving, after we gorge ourselves silly on turkey (or Tofurkey) and pumpkin pie and make our way to the bottom of the mashed potato mountain, we sit around and watch Christmas movies. Usually it’s Ralphie.

Sometimes it’s Rudolph and Hermie. Once in a while we’ll go with a more adult themed flic like Badder Santa (only the unrated version will do).  

But this year, we now have the ultimate Christmas movie for music nerds. It’s finally here. That movie you’ve been waiting for just like you waited for Return of the Jedi  when you were a kid. The Flaming Lips have released Christmas on Mars. And it’s freaking awesome. What else can I say? There’s a living space station partially made out of Cool Whip containers, super aliens and babies incubating outside of their mother’s wombs. And speaking of mothers…there’s quite the symbolic display of female body parts in there too. 

It does get a little gross once in a while, but it is really quite amazing for being filmed in Wayne Coyne’s back yard. The soundtrack’ll give you the best addition to your holiday mix tape, since the children singing from A Charlie Brown Christmas.


Go play the game if you haven’t gotten your copy of the Mega Deluxe Edition yet.

(from the Christmas on Mars Message Board )

WTF?!?!?!?!
Nov 22, 2008 / Joel
“That is really, really aggitating that I might have to wait another 30 DAYS!!!!! Every day since it was suposed to have been shipped has been the longest day of my life. And knowing that I might not have it for another month is just the worst feeling ever……..”

Don’t end up like a Joel. Order yours now!

By Carrie Waite

Rock n’ roller. Music geek. Audio file. I’m not really any of these things.  And don’t you ever fucking call me a hipster.  Scenester is nearly as criminal a term.  I’m just looking for a little inspiration, ya know?  That’s all.  Just a little.  I get it from music.  From my friends.  It’s cliche to say but it is my church.  The music,  the spirit,  the communal feeling.  And it’s got to be live music.  It’s got to be organic.  I’m sorry but your sorry ass MP3s and IPODs just don’t cut it for me.  I want the real thing.  

These moments of inspiration come in such small doses and oh so infrequently, that I had to figure out a way to capture them, put them in my pocket and take them home with me.  How can I make these little morsels of actual living last long enough, so as to get me through the cold, lonely, day to day rat race?  I’ll take a picture of it.  Make it last longer. Har. Har. 

As my introductory blog, I’ll give you a little sampling from when I first began taking pictures.  This picture of one of my all time favorite rock/punk bands, Nutrajet, was my first ever published photograph. It was Feb or March of 2002 for Weekly Planet aka Creative Loafing. Nutrajet were drummer, Jeff Wood, on the left, and guitarist/singer, Greg Reinel, aka Stainboy, on the right.  Their shows were raucous and rebellious and never ever predictable.  Jeff passed away last year after an agonizing struggle with brain cancer.  He gave it all, every show.  We miss you, Jeff.  You were THE Jeff Wood.  The only one.  

These are Jeff’s hands after a Nutrajet show at the Copper Rocket in Orlando.

So happy to be a sweaty bitch,
Carrie