Visit their website here:
http://www.johnnyamerica.net/
And stop by the Pig tonight from 6:00-9:00 where they'll be celebrating the release of their eightth 'zine."
And enjoy this excerpt from a piece called "The Antietam Whore" by Shawn MADDEY, which Chip has pronounced the sexiest thing he's read in ages:
"Her sex was what I found most sexy about her. The way her sex glistened her eyes; the way she would sex all her sextences into a sextion at the end; how she would sex up in the middle of the night after sexing sexmares and need to be sexed and have a lullaby sexed to her before she could sex back to sexleep; even the way she would sex all the blanketsex in bed."
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Do you love it when pretentious bands do pretentious things? We do, so we're closing a keep eye on Matt Friedberger (of The Fiery Furnaces), who is "releasing eight solo albums exploring the "Cretan-Lacedaemonian principle" (AV Club). Here are the details from the official press release:
"His 6+2 record set, Solos, in which he plays only a single given instrument per album (though not necessarily the same actual individual example of the single given instrument), is designed to illustrate the following Cretan-Lacedaemonian principle. Every group of instruments against every other group of instruments; every instrument against every other instrument; and especially, every instrument against itself, all alone."
You can download the first single, "Shirley," from the piano album here:
http://thrilljockey.com/assets/freedownload/Matthew_Friedberger-Shirley.mp3
But we think you'd be better off downloading the much-less pretentious LC theme song from our sidebar.
5 comments:
Yes, yes, all this self-satisfying hipsterism is great and all. I'd like to take my turn now, though.
Though it started off simply enough, last night was incredibly fucking hip for me. On a night where the only premise was for the Captain to sneak off to hip Williamsburg to drink whisky until he couldn't feel feelings, the Captain decided to set up shop in a new, hip spot called The Legion.
After a handful of shots and a couple 3$ Atomic Lagers (the Captain guesses this is old, poured-out Budweiser repackaged as a cold, refreshing draught with a weird aftertaste--very hip), the comfortably-numbed Captain noticed a star in his presence. C. Michael Hall had made an appearance at the bar and was currently standing within inches of our hero.
Momentarily stunned, the Captain gave him an ocular patdown. In real life, C.M.H. isn't a midget like Tom Cruise, is pretty broad-shouldered and he tends to wear about the same thing he wears on "Dexter." Yes, his celebrity aura was as intoxicating as the Evan Williams. Nonetheless, despite the Captain's better judgment, he asked to take no photos with his phone (though he tried in vain to snap one before dropping the goddamn thing and missing the opportunity) or autographs like the rest of the starry-eyed, starstruck wastoids.
Rather, the Captain enjoyed another libation (or four) and watched from afar as Mr. Hall picked out the hottest girl in the bar, bumped and ground (grinded?) to two songs then wisped her away into the night--probably to fuck her then tie her down and murder her in deliberate, methodical fashion before cutting her up, placing her (dis)members in trash bags and dumping them in the East River.
Yes folks, the Captain and Dexter himself were good company last night to many hip individuals. Though we ended up in different places by eve's end, the Captain thanks C.M.H. for being a hip sideshow for the night. The Captain also thanks White Castle for pumping him full of chemical sliders that undoubtedly dampened an immense whisky hangover. Finally, the Captain thanks himself for this wonderful opportunity to experiment in third-person self-reference: Now that's hip!
Yes, we are huge fans of third-person here at the LC! Great story. But you should have asked Mr. Hall why this season's Dexter is not as good (aside from the presence of the great Peter Weller). I blame the casting of Julia Stiles. And isn't Mr. Hall married to the woman who plays his sister in the show? Too bad she wasn't around, and you could have bumped and ground with her!
I guess it's Michael C. Hall. Which is not as hip as having a letter as a first name.
Listening to the Larryville Chronicles themesong was truly one of the most painful music experiences of my life...thank you.
Try to make it through a Wayne Pain and the Cum Draculas tune!
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