It is a matter of established public record that I’m a fan of both John Darnielle and wombats. So please forgive this non-musical divergence, but it has come to my attention (via my friend Ann’s twitter feed) that there exists a picture of John Darnielle holding an adorable wombat.
I am convinced that this picture could end war. Seriously. There’s John Darnielle, looking as if to say:
“Why, yes, I’m John Darnielle and this is my wombat. I have no time for you.”
And there’s the wombat looking like:
“‘Sup, bitches? I’m a chubby, adorable wombat.”
Net result? Perfection.
Okay, okay, if you insist on a musical connection, here’s the thinnest and most tenuous one possible. The Wombats, “Let’s Dance to Joy Division”:
Happy now? No? I refer you to the picture above.
Better? I thought so…
Pete Yorn’s got a new single out. It’s called “Precious Stone” and I’m pretty sure it’s already my favorite Yorn tune:
Groovy, eh? It’d produced by Frank Black, though listening to it, it sounds like Black treated it with a pretty light hand. Which is good, because Yorn’s definitely written and recorded a hell of a single.
I have to confess, I’ve always had a gutteral dislike for Malcolm McLaren. But I suppose his recent passing does warrant some comment. Perhaps the best comment, though, is not any direct hagiography or corpse-kicking, but rather a reflection on some small, bizarre part of his life and career. Roger Ebert, who once collaborated with McLaren on an unfilmed Sex Pistols movie, offers this great explication of the project.
“Malcolm McLaren appeared with Russ in my room at the Marquis. He was a ginger-haired, wiry man in his 30s, who wore a “Destroy” T-shirt and leather pants equipped with buckles and straps. These were, I learned, the infamous Bondage Pants he introduced at SEX, the celebrated Kings Road boutique he ran with his romantic partner Vivienne Westwood. The T-shirt was also hers. The pants offered the ultimate on bondage convenience. When the mood struck, you didn’t have to rummage about for belts and braces; all your needs were built in. On his feet he wore what Russ approvingly noted were Brothel Creepers.”
Definitely read the whole thing.