It's not sticking, but it's visible: The first snow of the year where I live has arrived on October 11.

That's exactly the point, seems to me. It's a deliberately alienating movie aimed at middlebrow masochists. My impression is that that's Iñárritu's whole deal - making his movies as unpleasant as possible, and implying that enduring them is a way of demonstrating one's elevation and good taste.

I would have bet you a thousand dollars this band was from Australia. (They were not.)

Just packed up close to 80 orders of our newest CDs (and a few old ones). Tomorrow: boxing up CDs for distributors and a couple of selected wholesale accounts. Remember - we only make 500 copies of each title, so if you want one, now's the time to buy it. The Wadada Leo Smith album is going FAST.

Shorter headline: Man Gets What He Wants

If all you've got are jokes, and all your jokes are dependent on a hyphenated string of references to shit no normal person remembers (or should even want to)... you need to get a different job. The function of pop criticism is to make a normal person say, "I think I'd like to hear that song."

I'll tell you who the audience is: Middle-aged shut-ins who remember decades-old pop music trivia. And I'll tell you who the audience *isn't*: People under 40 who might actually want to know whether a new record is the kind of thing they'd want to listen to for pleasure.

Who is the readership for a record review that shoehorns a mention of a one-hit wonder from the early '90s with a slightly memorable name into a writeup of a brand new album, *not* by making a musical comparison ("This song sounds like this other song") but just riffing on the name?

And one of the worst ways this manifests is in references that will only make sense to someone who's spent the last 40 years reading nothing but pop music journalism. Bands and movies and albums that were unsuccessful (and therefore forgotten) in their time are used as shorthand for... what?

I often think, when reading record reviews, about their audience. I feel like a lot of writers accede to the myth that "there's no need for reviews when anyone who wants to hear an album can stream it instantly," and abdicate any responsibility to *educate a potential listener about the music*.

Got my ballot in today's mail. Genuinely not sure whether to vote for Alani Bankhead (who absolutely will not win, and may be insane) just to keep the D flag aloft, or Seth Bodnar (whose independent run annoys me by its very existence, but who mmmmmight win in a strong enough D year) for Senate.

Glad I saw this before wasting even a moment of my time. I have liked other Flanagan shows in the past but holy fuck, what a complete misreading of the story.

I think I'm going to have to unsubscribe from the newsletter that pissed this into my eyes this morning.

There was a time when, if a band became popular, some critics would feel compelled to dig up a superficially similar but less popular band to champion instead. This practice seems to have fallen out of favor, though, and I'm wondering why.

Just got an advance of this book in the mail - Patricia Nilsson's Guilty Pleasure: The Pornification Of The Internet, The Economy, And Everything Else. Out next month.

Look, all I'm saying is if we're setting a precedent for politically motivated public executions, people are gonna start making wish lists.

CDs ARE HERE! Jackets and inner sleeves for Wadada Leo Smith’s CONSTELLATIONS AND HEMISPHERES and Michael Sarian’s IN THIS DESERT (a 2CD set!) have arrived from the printer and look AMAZING! Order your copies now, ‘cause we only made 500 of each!