July 16, 2004



Wondering if maybe if this is the greatest band of all time. The odds are good. (POSTSCRIPT: The album is surprisingly adequate. It's Courtney reorganized along Brodyist principles, with the sexuality normalized and aimed outwards on a predictable path, a la Leather Tuscadero.)

I get hella CDs. I don't have time or room for most of them, even some of the good ones. (The bad ones, as a matter of principle, still get a walk-in appointment with Mr. Glad.) Email my lazy ass and I will send you CDs of my choosing, at my convenience. (PLEASE INCLUDE YOUR ADDRESS SO I DON'T HAVE TO EMAIL YOU BACK ASKING YOU TO "PLEASE INCLUDE YOUR ADDRESS.") If you are a friend, don't email me: I hope that in the day-to-day business of being friends, we help each other already. I am looking for kind strangers long on love and short on paper who need some candy. Police yourselves, citizens, and let your conscience be your Happy Shopper. Motherfuckers who work for Cargo, the Death Star or some other oligopoly should spend their per diems on the muzik and let a shorty get on instead.

You absolutely must get Theodore Unit's 718 when it drops. This makes two essential mixtapes from Ghost in one year, and I might like this one best. (There are some overlaps and redunndacies with other Ghost tapes but, like, who cares.)

For no good reason, though of obvious sequence, the intergalactic hotness.

Posted by Sasha at July 16, 2004 11:51 AM | TrackBack