Blood On Our Hands: Dustin vs. Jon on Death From Above 1979

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New Heaving: Flustin vs. Dustin on Dub Trio

Dustin: The new Dub Trio album stinks like a dead fish.

Flustin: Oh, heaven forbid someone changes their style one tenth of one degree, you pompous ass.

Dustin: Hey, their last album was chill and spacey and awesome. How am I supposed to chill out when they're blasting me in the face with double bass?

Flustin: They're doing something creative to a repetitive genre. How many more of the same dub albums can you have? Hey, awesome, another 60 minutes of no vocals and echoing snare shots. Dude, they're giving dub a kick in the ass.

Dustin: I'll give you a kick in the ass. And yeah, those are some really great changes on this album. Let's make a song that sounds like it was written by Incubus and get Mike Patton to sing over it. Mike Patton! Who is more washed up than him? He'll do anything. Give me ten minutes and I'll get him to write the next entry for this blog.

Flustin: I find that hard to believe considering the contents of this post. Anyway, I like that song. It's catchy and it reminds me of Faith No More. And Mike Patton is talented and does cool stuff with Bjork and Rhazel.

Dustin: I like when he plays with Mr. Bungle and does ten minutes of screaming. That's awesome. Almost as awesome as one and a half minute tracks of wanna-be Pennywise rips.

Flustin: That was one track and so what, it's balanced out by the next track, which is seven minutes of your lovely traditional dub. Look, this is a solid album by a trio of talented musicians who are actually trying to innovate. Half of it rocks, half of it is stoner space out music. It's good. Admit it.

Dustin: Nope. I hate everything and I hope you die.

Flustin: Well, tough titties for you then.

Frances The Moot: Chris vs. Dustin on Mars Volta

Dustin: Mars Volta sucks my balls. Okay, their first album was not bad. If they cut a few of the songs down from eight minutes to five minutes, they would have had a really fantastic album. But the latest one — what a crock of pretentious jam band crap. Who can even listen to this shit?

Chris: You are completely wrong. Jam bands in the vein of Phish just play off a singular theme most of the time and riff almost purely to show off the quality of their musicianship, which is usually high. Mars Volta is nothing like a jam band — they don't sit there and masturbate their guitars into a frenzy or give the drummer some for 10 minutes. Can you honestly say that they are a jam band like the Dead, or Phish? Last time I checked, I didn't hear anything in their lyrics about some milk producer (Phish) or dancing hypercolor bears.

Dustin: When I call them a jam band, I use the term to say that they write long, boring songs and sweat their own musical ability to the point that it seems the band's entire focus is proving how talented they are instead of making music that is enjoyable to listen to. Sonically they're nothing like Phish or the Dead, and lyrically, well, they're nothing like anyone. In fact, I believe they get their lyrics from dropping word-of-the-day flashcards on the floor and assembling them randomly.

Chris: I compare their lyricism with that of improvisation in jazz. Improvisation comes purely from the inner workings of the individual, and the expression is what it is. There is inner need for human beings to make sense of words, for them to tell the listener a story, a vision, or a feeling. Yet how accurate are words when it comes to expressing certain things?
Look, it's self indulgent music. By making their lyrics so insensible, they obviously don't care what people think. Yet they have quite a following? Free of the judgment of your personal tastes, what can you attribute their popularity to? You can't purely place it on the shoudlers of MTV airplay, as their songs totally and completely buck the trend of the rest of the absolute shit that they play.

Dustin: "Cygnus... Vismund Cygnus: a. SARCOPHAGI b. UMBILICAL SYLLABES c. FACILIS DESCERNUS AVERNI d. CON SAFO"
Lyric samples:
"A lachrymal cloud" "An abortion that survived a lineage of bastard mastacation" "Chrome the fetal mirage"
Just the fact that they would name a song that name, give it four parts with even more retarded names, and use lyrics like those should prove without a doubt that these guys are douche bags.
Why do people like them? I don't know. I assume people want to rock. At The Drive In rocked, Mars Volta's first album kinda rocked, and this new one has some elements of rock in it. But is it worth it? For the few seconds of cool riffs, do I really need to listen to five minutes of space sound affects made by a guy who just downloaded Acid Pro?

Chris: Oh yeah, I forgot — rock really never had any unitelligible lyrics before Mars Volta. There was this band in the 60's called the Beatles who sang crazy shit like "oh-blah dee" and "octopus's garden."
When it comes to their lyrics, it's just them being self-indulgent. Music translates emotions that are more easily empathized with instead of logically understood. When it comes to De-Loused in the Comatorium, which is about their bandmate who died, you cannot honestly say that even though their lyrics might not appeal to your higher faculties of reason, you have to admit that there is definitely a strain of sorrow that comes through.
And really, you strike me as an individual who could appreciate some prog rock that doesn't fit into radio-sized four minute blocks. Yeah, there are some spacy things on Frances the Mute, but do you have a three-chord maximum or something? Patience, warrior.

Dustin: If the music was good, I wouldn't care about the lyrics. I only reference them because the music is annoying and pretentious mishmosh as well. The lyrics are just the most obvious expression of how obnoxious this band is, not too mention the funniest.
This band is best summed up through the sixth song on Deloused. At least I think it's the sixth song — it's hard to remember looking at titles like "Eriatarka" and "Cicatriz Esp." Anyway, this song starts off awesome — just kicks major ass. Sick riff, everything about it is dope. The end is the same way. But what's in the middle? Three minutes of bleeps, then at one point total silence! Total silence! Why? WHY?!
For every cool minute of rock on a Mars Volta album, there's five minutes of nonsense, beeps, clicks, chirping birdie sounds, droning crap and pointless noodling. They're wasting my time – and that's like murdering me, just a teeny tiny bit.

Chris: Mostly anybody can write a sick riff — and it seems that Mars Volta can do it without even thinking. But let's get a little post-modern about the contrast between those boop-ity, bop-ity bits and the awesome parts of the song. Obviously they aren't writing show tunes where there has to be a couple of refrains from the coda. Why do it? I think they are doing it BECAUSE those early bits are so easily digestible. There are elements of epic house that they are bringing to the table — which probably is the reason for their wide success. Yet it's a pretty interesting thing to do with rock. They maintain space between their pop-sensibilities (their hooks) and their possible motivations for deconstruction.

Dustin: Deconstruction, epic house, blah blah blah. Frances the Mute is one hour plus of guitar nerd crap voiced over by a whiny screaming baby with a stupid afro. Do you really like it, or do you just want to like it?

Chris: Yes I like Frances the Mute, yes I would wear their silly fucking T-shirt and yes I like guitar nerd crap because I was reared on Rush, Judas Priest, and Yngwie Malmsteen. Fuck music nazis who secretly want everybody else to like what they like so then can turn around and diss it and feel superior.

Dustin: Fuck music nazis? Hey buddy, who the hell do you think you are. If I can't go online and write about how much someone else's favorite album sucks, then the terrorists have already won. This is what freedom is all about — I get to tell you Mars Volta sucks, then you get to tell me I'm an asshole. Then you go home and listen to them and I listen to something good and we're both happy. Everyone wins!

Chris: The terrorists have already won if people like me can't listen to music that makes me want to jump off of the Tri-bizzle without the smirks of the chronically undepressed and whose judgement is serotonin-ally free.

Dustin: Kiss me.

Beef At Turnpike House - Ravi vs. Dustin on St. Etienne

Dustin: This album is like curling: it's catching on with some people but it's still extremely boring.

Ravi: I like the curling metaphor. You might say that curling is boring, but to me it's strangely hypnotic. Just like curling, a game with limited appeal to the masses, St. Etienne's has a style is that's peripheral to most. They're like the Canadians of curling in whatever musical subgenre they fall into. Each track on this album is like a strategically thrown stone on the bullseye that is the listener's ear. And, it's a concept album about real estate! Buy! Buy! Buy!

Dustin: Well, they do say to buy low. As for the album, it alternates between being a bad Stereolab imitation and a soundtrack for emotional porn for married couples.

Ravi: Buy low. Exactly, with the hope of an appreciation. Look, how many albums have you heard immediately and been like "oh fuck that's awesome!"? If it's more than a handful, then we should be debating your musical taste, and not albums. But to the album, what particular songs do you no likey? Do you not like the beats on tracks 2-3-4?

Dustin: Track 2 is nice safe music for Moby fans. The people who listen to Norah Jones when they fuck can listen to this when they dance. Track 3 could have been the music for that weird sex scene in the second Matrix movie. It's like a watered down version of the new watered down Goldfrapp. Track 4 is aight.
I don't know man, it's hard to find anything I like on here. How about track 6 – that's some cool jazz for wack herbs. How can you rock that without thinking of the lounge singer in Lost In Translation?

Ravi: Name one person you know that listens to Norah Jones when they fuck, and I will concede this entire battle to you.

Dustin: Your mom.

Ravi: Dad?

Dustin: Yeah right. No son of mine would ever listen to this:
"Lets build a zoo and fill it with animals
Let's build a zoo, we'll ride on a camel
With a gnu at the end of the queue (here they come!)
Two by two by two by two"

Ravi: Well, Pop, each song from "Barnyard Brouhaha" onward is St. Etienne's take on English kids songs. They have nothing to do with the album — they were tacked onto the U.S. import version as "Bonus Tracks." Unless you want to take the reading of this concept album as one about moving to a new house and making it a home, and therefore these last songs are to be played when you and mom settle in and have babies.
And Dad, I've been drinking your booze and smoking your cigarettes. But you wouldn't know about that would you. Or care. Go ahead, stay there all day in your office, drinking your haterade. Of course you hate St. Etienne. What, oh, you listen to music for lyrics now? Should I call you Papa Buckley? Yeah? Of course, you'd only focus on lyrics that you would consider immature for your "adult" tastes. I hate you!

Dustin: Son, I’m only teaching you these things for your benefit. Remember the time I told you not to run by the pool holding all those scissors? You were in the hospital for three years after that. Bah, you kids will never listen.

The Sun Is Whining: Jay vs. Dustin on DT8 Project

Dustin: This is the most typical club crap I've ever heard.

Jay: To each his own.

Dustin: I'll battle you on this right now.

Jay: "Sun is Shining" is an affirmation of all that is positive in our brief life. A critical reading:
"I'm walking down an empty road, and I don't know, where it's leading to, my heart is beating faster and I'm searching, for the truth, gravity keeps pulling me and time is standing still, golden rays are shining, on you."
We know not where our journey goes in life or where it will end, but this song exemplifies the fact that as long as there is true love in the world (and for the narrator), it doesn't really matter which direction your life takes. Any nervousness or fear about the future unknown is quelled by the narrator's knowledge that "golden rays are shining" on his love. A beautiful statement.
"The sun is shining down on me, now I feel you, the rain is falling over me, and I feel only you... The sun is shining down on me (the sun is shining down on me) now I feel you (now I feel you) the rain is falling over me (the rain is falling over me) and I feel only you... (and I feel only you...)"
No weather can deter the narrator's love for his one. Sweltering heat? Torrential downpour? It matters not.
"Spinning round i feel the heat, rising up, deep inside of me, look around and soon you'll feel the very air, that I breathe, your mind and soul is all around, I sense you are so near, now golden rays are shining on me"
As if you weren't happy before?!?! Now because his true love is close to him, the golden rays are now on him! See, the chorus had rain on him, a negative symbol. But now, now that his one feels his air, he is in a state of total bliss.
Musically, the beat echoes the author's mood brilliantly. Starting off minimal and moody during the narrator's self-reflection, the track explodes in exuberant enthusiasm to match the narrator's realization on the proximity on that which makes him most happy. It is a burst of sonic life. It is a shaman, acting as a vessel between the mind + soul. It accomplishes what all good house music strives for: the celebration of movement, dance and life.

Dustin: First of all, let it be known that this song came from a CD called Ultra Dance Vol 5, Disc 2. That right there pretty much says it all, but I will add more because it's rare to find such an easy target.
Here is my interpretation of this track. As you can tell from the music, it's clearly the theme song to the Pokémon cartoon. Now let us reconsider the lyrics with this in mind.
In the first verse, we are introduced to the main character Jay, a Pokémaster in training. He has no Pokémon of his own, but he's looking to capture one in the forest, and can feel that he's on to something.
In the second verse, it's sunny out, yet it is raining, so we can only assume Jay has encountered a wild Pokémon with some sort of water-based power.
In the final verse, Jay is hit by a powerful blast of hot air that sends him spinning through the air, where he is assaulted by golden rays. Clearly he has enraged a sleeping Pikachu with his awful spring break house anthem and is about to be deservingly electrocuted.
The moral of this story - you are a pussy.

Jay: I've never seen Pokémon so that entire thing is lost on me. I will accept your moral though. You are all yin, no yang. I balance my musical palette. Closed mouths don't get fed.

Dustin: I've never seen Pokémon either. I just know that it's for little kids and so is this song. Dude, you used to make fun of people who listened to this stuff. What happened to you?

Jay: When did i ever make fun of people who rock this?

Dustin: Every time some loser rolls down the street pumping KTU. That's what this is, you just don't realize it for some reason. This isn't Daft Punk or Basement Jaxx - this is what they play at the gym.

Jay: Okay, let me give full disclosure. This was the jam I was listening to in The Hague just before I bungee jumped into the North Sea. The music fit the mood nicely as I envisioned myself jumping in slo-mo with this playing in the background. I make no excuses. It's still great. But that might contribute to my enjoyment.