Oh, Right, I Have A Blog

It's been a long time; I should'n'a left you/Without a dope beat to step to

It's kinda funny - well, okay, it's not really funny at all, but editing is for pantywaists: At the beginning of the year, I had between three and five writing commitments, depending on who wanted what from me when; now I have one, you're reading it, and as you may have noticed I kinda sorta suck balls at updating it at this point. I have no excuse; this is simply all I have, and I beg of you not to use your chloroform. All I can offer in recompense is a post full of absolute, insouciantly insistent motherfucking BANGERS. To wit:

Breakbot, "Happy Rabbit"
Isosceles, "Get Your Hands Off"

I'm certain that I'm not the only American left who still buys stuff from Rough Trade, which therefore means that I'm also not the only American to run into the legendary shop's seemingly-Sphinx-like attitude towards responding to emails. It's hard to hold it against them - years and years of record-store patronage have taught me nothing if not to expect anything other than palpable indifference on the part of the store clerks - but it's still a somewhat galling experience to wait around for like fifty bucks' worth of records coming your way without even the most basic information about the sale (like, say, which records are actually coming - although I'd probably be a lot less sensitive to this had I not been spoiled by Piccadilly's order-reporting system) in your possession. Recently, however, Rough Trade came through in a monumentally huge way with one of those customer-service experiences which damn near gets you excited to spend money with a business again, and today, we shall all gather around and bear witness. This will probably be a boring read for most of you, but as a noted poet and scholar once pointed out, "I don't give a fuck about these white people."

A few months ago, I had a birthday (it happens), and my friends decided to get me an assload of gift vouchers from Rough Trade, an outstanding idea for a present marred only by the fact that Rough Trade's gift vouchers can't actually be redeemed online. After placing a rather substantial order, I went through literally months of agonizing over how to get these things spent, at one point even contacting D. Wreck during his London excursion to see if I might be able to mail him the vouchers and have him redeem them onsite, until I eventually just kinda sighed, gave up, and made a note to myself to visit London again someday so that I could actually get these consarned vouchers out of my apartment. And then a few weeks ago, without any prompting on my part, I got an email from a RT honcho informing me that not only had they been putting my order together for like three months waiting for a few straggling items to show up, but that they'd actually gone ahead and combined it with another order I'd placed to save on shipping, and that I could expect a ludicrously overstuffed pack of records in the mail in the coming weeks. To say that this worked out well would be a heroic understatement; miraculously, even though I'd figured my earlier order had gotten lost in the mail and had reordered some items from other shops, there was only one instance of overlap in the whole order (the rather lamentable single by the Sigma - o Young & Lost Club, why hast thou forsaken me?).

More to the point, it worked out in fantastic fashion thanks to the huge-box-o-stuff format, unequivocally my favorite way to receive stuff in the mail. Call me a crazy-ass pleasure-delayer ("YOU'RE A" oh fuck it), but if you're someone who's affected by the context in which you hear a record, I just can't believe that a better option exists - after all, given the relative age of some of the singles in my order, they might as well have flown in from Neptune. Breakbot's "Happy Rabbit"/"Summer Party" disc, for instance, probably would have sounded downright egregious had I received it during the summer - pleasant, mind you, but pretty strikingly derivative of songs like "Phantom Pt. 1" or "DVNO". By getting them now, however, all that context has been stripped from the songs like bark off a tree; now the aspects of the Ed Banger set onto which everyone seems to have glommed is the abrasive noisiness of the affair rather than the mellifluous poppiness (which, having spoken directly to Certain Folks Who Would Know this morning, is as critical an aspect to Justice' craft as whichever other aspect seems to be most violently fashionable at the moment), leaving "Happy Rabbit" as a nigh-unto-relic of this summer's theme of abrasive prettiness. And really, "Happy Rabbit" is kinda hysterically pretty in a summer-jam way - if anything, I wish it had more of the dur-dur-durrrrrr theatrics that have dominated Banger-a-like tracks for the last few months just to give it a little extra dynamism, but I can have a hard time taking a song to task for simply and steadfastly following its melody through to its logical conclusion.

The Breakbot track, however, only made an ancillary point about how anticipation and context (and, I guess, more concrete phenomena like "shipping") really work - a fine point, to be sure, but one which pales in comparison to the main point made by the Giant Box-O-Stuff format, namely an elegant illustration of the extent to which Rough Trade has their stock situation in check. It's not just a matter of them having two copies of everything - although boy do they have everything; thanks to them I'm one of an ass-few people with a hard copy of that Hercules & Love Affair single (complete w/ misprinted "33 RPM" label; clearly my future will include a Scrooge McDuckian swimming pool full of gold coins once I flip it on eBay) - so much as them having a level of insight as to their stock which vastly outstrips that of most folks who aren't trying to get you to pay them for stuff. I mean, every major indie record store in England made a point to stock the Isosceles si