1. Dear Rick Moody,
Hi. I like you a lot. I like your writing — no, scratch that– I really love your writing. I think you’re tops, and I’d like to say mazel tov on your forthcoming book, The Four Fingers of Death.
I need to let you know (not that you care) that I’ve already read one really long book (Witz by Joshua Cohen), and I’m starting another (The Instructions by Adam Levin). Those books are really fricken long — as is your newest, at 700+ pages. The point of me telling you this is so you know that I need to take a break from really long books for a few months, so when I do get around to reading The Four Fingers of Death, it might not be as fresh, but I swear that I will get to it soon.
Here’s the real problem: I hear that you might be putting out a book of music essays this fall on Little, Brown. This might make it a bit more difficult for me to pick up The Four Fingers of Death, because, frankly, you’ve become one of my favorite music writers over the last few months. Your “Swinging Modern Sounds” column on The Rumpus is always (excuse the expression) sick as shit, and I think your essay in the latest music issue of The Believer, “The Gospel of the Drum Machine,” was also incredibly thoughtful. It was probably my favorite part of the entire issue, and I thank you for that.
2. If I had heard Young Man in May, I might have had to leave some room next to Beach Fossils and Avi Buffalo on my “Summer Jams” playlist. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d think the songs created by Colin Caulfield and Co. were the lost tapes of Bradford Cox (Deerhunter/Atlas Sound) and Panda Bear jamming together on a tropical island.
The band just signed to French Kiss, and their first EP, “Boy”, is due in October.
3. Frankie Rose and the Outs are putting out the record that Vivian Girls and Dum Dum Girls wish they were talented enough to make. Funny thing is, Frankie was a member of both of those bands, so I wonder if she took notes on what she could do better when she finally started her own band?
4. I can’t really write a music column a few days after the Pitchfork Music Festival without making some mention of it, so here is my breakdown from what I witnessed on the free broadcast, and from various other eye-witness accounts:
- Titus Andronicus proved they were the best little rock ‘n roll band on the planet.
- Big Boi was nasty.
- Freddie Gibbs was filthy nasty. He’s my favorite rapper.
- Panda Bear was so boring that I have almost lost all interest in his upcoming release.
- Pavement didn’t want to be filmed. I’ve pretty much lost all respect for them at this point. L Magazine explained what the deal was, and I still don’t care.
5. “My Body” by Young the Giant is my newest guilty pleasure. If I ever pick up a nasty coke habit, steal a 1987 Porsche Carrera, and cruise through the mountains, I want this to be the band that’s playing on the radio the entire time.