MP3 - "War Dance" by the inimitable Jandek. Some critical pieces about Jandek might give the impression that his music is nothing but formless, completely unschooled plonking recorded onto a cheap tape recorder. OK, there's that side of Jandek, but this song in particular shows that the guy (whoever he may be) has an idea of what he's doing. The simple tribal/blues riff (which is repetitive without actually repeating the exact same notes) underneath is driving and ominous, while the angular guitar lines throughout jab and dart into strange neighborhoods - part surf/spy instrumental, part free jazz (of a much less skilled variety, granted). But Jandek hasn't forgotten his roots - the vocals are completely tuneless in that trademark half-spoken, half-yelled-and-moaned style.

You've marveled at the revelatory brilliance of The Grey Album. You've been awed by the striking recreations of The Double Black Album. You've sadly shook your head over the mere existence of The Slack Album. But these are just some of the many mashups featuring Jay-Z's The Black Album that have been created by today's groundbreaking copyright violators. Here are some of the lesser known versions:

The None More Black Album - Jay-Z + Spinal Tap. "99 Problems" has never sounded better than when backed by the riff from "Sex Farm."

The Michael Ian Black Album - Jay-Z + Michael Ian Black's comments from I Love the 80s. Don't miss "What More Can I Say (About Wacky Wallwalkers)."

The Brecht Album - Jay-Z + German cabaret. Coming soon - 50 Cent Opera.

The Blecch! Album - Jay-Z + those old novelty records Mad Magazine released in the mid-60s.

The I Want My Baby Black, Baby Black, Baby Black Album - Jay-Z + the Chili's baby back ribs jingle.

The Black-ack-ack-ack Album - every song on The Black Album crossed with "Movin' Out (Anthony's Song)" by Billy Joel.

I saw the Fall last night at the Black Cat in DC. I may be risking my credibility as a Fall-geek here, but I was a little underwhelmed with the show. This version of the Fall is a competent, professional group, but they lack that certain spark that Craig Scanlon and Brix Smith gave to prior incarnations. Live, you could strip away Mark E. Smith's vocals and they wouldn't sound much different from any number of the post-punk revivalists who have copped from the Fall. And MES was oddly subdued last night, although that could be partly explained by the godawful sound system at the Black Cat (which pushed his vocals way too low in the mix and muddied the sound to the point where you couldn't make out much of the lyrics) and partly due to his recovery from a broken leg. (Mark E. was stationed behind a desk all night, which actually enhanced his oddly compelling not-really-pleased-to-be-there stage presence.)

A lot of people I know who've listened to the Fall and not liked them have registered the same complaint: "every song sounds the same." I don't get that sense at all from listening to the albums, but I could see their point if you judged them solely on last night's show. With a few exceptions, everything was stuck in the same plodding mid-tempo groove without the dynamics that are usually present on their albums. Nevertheless, there were highlights: the version of "Middle Mass" turned the main riff into insane calliope music, "Mountain Energei" actually outdid the album version with a relentless drum-led attack, "Mere Pseud Mag. Ed." was pounded out ferociously at a level comparable (if not superior) to the original, and "Theme from Sparta F.C." worked perfectly as a barroom chantalong. But overall, it was a decent but unspectacular and uninspiring outing.

Ah, well. No one ever said being a Fall fan was easy. And it could've been a lot worse.

I'm currently suffering from post-tax season burnout, the bane of the accounting professional. Updates to this here thing will gradually return to semi-regular over the next few weeks. (Promise or threat, etc.) In the meantime, a few quick things:

- I realize spam found humor is getting played out, but:
Subject: wellbutrin reduces cocaine craving and is much cheaper!
A drug that reduces the craving for cocaine? What an wondrous age we live in.

- "Everything's Tuesday" by the Chairmen of the Board. My parents had Best of Buddah Records on 8-track, so Holland-Dozier-Holland style pop-soul was part of the soundtrack of my earliest years (along with Waylon Jennings' Greatest Hits - I haven't heard either in years, but I can still remember most of the songs note-for-note). This song encapsulates everything I like about the style - a subtly on-the-mark rhythm section, breezily buoyant strings and a vocal chorus that establishes permanent residence in your head.

- Dear whoever is designing the modern suburban office park: Is it your intention to create the most depressingly uniform and bleak landscapes possible? I know you're probably bitter about getting passed over for the downtown highrise project, so you're just halfassing it and inflicting some of your own turmoil on the rest of us, but seriously - windows? Colors besides that drab slightly-lighter-than-brick-red that every office complex I see uses? Building designs that aren't so damn blocky and square? I'm not a big visual aesthete or anything, I'm just looking for something that doesn't exacerbate my light-deprivation-caused irritability. Most suburban commercial zones are only slightly more cheerful looking than East Berlin circa 1977 or so. So let's vary things up a little. Also - windows. Thanks.

I'd just like to point out the two ads that are currently at the top of my blog (at least, the last time I loaded it):

RE-ELECT PRESIDENT BUSH?
GAS MASKS: $11.95 NEW

That's some uncannily well-designed marketing right there.

Opening Day tomorrow. (I realize that there have already been official games played, but I don't consider the Japanese series to be the real live Opening Day. But call tomorrow Opening Day (Observed) if you're a real stickler about this.) One of my favorite days of the year. Now I can start enjoying the White Sox' two months of pseudo-competiveness before they inevitably fall out of contention, poring over EQA and DIPS and support-neutral win-loss records (the real reason mathematics was invented) and planning another season of fantasy baseball glory.

I promise not to pull any George Will-ian rhetorical stunts here; enough has been vomited out about the lyrical qualities of baseball and the sport as a metaphor for life and a reflection of America and bleepblop. I love baseball, but people who have to invent some sort of deeper meaning for watching a game should really work on becoming more secure in their own tastes and interests. On the other hand, the people who always complain about "grown men playing a kids' game" are even more fucking annoying. C'mon, everyone, join us in the overflowing kiddie pool that is cultural relativism. Baseball is what it is - an entertaining way to kill a few hours, a fine meshing of strategy and physical force and a sport that lends itself to geeky obsession through the ability to document every single action through a series of statistics. And for me, Opening Day also serves as a celebration of the end of winter (which, of course, sucks) and a brief renewal of hope until the inevitable season-crushing disappointments of summer. So hurray for baseball, except for the Cubs (who are overrated this year, by the way, and will surely disappoint) and the Yankees.