Kasabian: K! I! LL!

And I mean "kill" in the sense of, "wow they're really good! They just KILL, man!" And also, it's a line in one of their songs. I don't mean it in the, "hey everyone, let's ban together and kill Kasabian! Come on, it'll be fun!" kind of way. Just kidding, Department of Homeland Security! Heh heh! Heeeeeeh... oh booooy...

So Kasbian are a bunch of hotties. Well it's true, for godsake. I was going to link to their website so you could all see and judge for yourself, but the site is so poorly designed that I just can't inflict that on anyone. I would like to speak with their web designer, actually, because you know what? No. No no no no. That whole thing is just a BAD idea, and don't. I know you're trying to be all cutting-edge and cool and everything, but you know what? Basic principles still apply there, buddy boy, and they apply for a reason. Because me, as the user, will click off faster than you can say, "K! I! LL!" See what I did there? My GOD I'm hilarious.

AhHEM.

So my friend Kerry got me their self-titled debut for my birthday (which, incidentally, was Feb. 24th. Yes, I know, happy birthday to me. I was 25! 25, dammit! I'll keep saying it until all of us believe it), because she rocks the party. I'd heard "Club Foot" and "Reason is Treason" and "LSF" and "Cutt Off" on KEXP, and well, I loved them all. I tried to convince Kerry of how righteous they were, but she had just had gum surgery, and as we all know, Kasabian and gum surgery just don't mix. Their music requires a uniquely healthy mouth for maximum enjoyment. And what's weird is, after Kerry fully recovered, she began to appreciate them more and more. See? SEE? I was right again.

Aaaaaaaaaanyway...

So Kasabian. Yea, so I popped them into the stereo and was immediately struck by a kind of Primal Scream/Happy Mondays/early-90s-Factory-scene thing, subsequently dipped in a big pool of The Verve kind of vibe. Does that sentence even make sense? It does to me, and I suppose that's really all that matters. Um yea, so there was that vibe. Which is really really cool. There's lots of big sound on this disk, which makes turning it WAY up an experience. A good experience. Not like the experience of, say, gum surgery.

Kasabian are the Next Big Thing(tm) from England. Right now their record is only available as an import... they don't release here until March 8th, I believe. The wait is definitely worth it though... I like the resurgence thing they're trying to do. And while I love the whole 80s revival thing going on right now, it's time for some freshness, and I think Kasabian fit the bill nicely. I would love to see them live, but unfortunately I'm seeing Duran Duran the same week they'll be in town (yes, I said Duran Duran. You heard me. And your problem with that would be...), so that'll have to be a miss for me. But if there's one thing I know about these Next Big Thing(tm) Britpop bands, them little guys tour their kahones off to get known here in the states, so I expect Kasabian to be back in my neck of the woods sooner rather than later.

And that's my little disjointed Kasabian review! I like them! A lot! I will be very interested to see how all this translates live. Until then, whatever you do, DON'T go to their website, but DO pick up their disk when it comes out. Do do do.

Oh and you know what? My new iPod (affectionately knows as Mr. iPod until I can think of a suitable name) categorizes the Trashcan Sinatras new record "Weightlifting" as Easy Listening. They're the only band categorized as Easy Listening out of all the music I've loaded on there so far. I laughed and laughed.

Ok that is all.

I'm getting an iPod

I know I know. Most of the world already has an iPod, and I am way behind the times. But come on people. I work for the state, don't make any money, and have two very demanding cats to feed. It's not like I can afford to plunk down $300 on a piece of electronic gagetry.

Yes that's right, I said gagetry. Have you a problem with that? Didn't think so.

Anyways, the only way someone on my meager income would be able to afford an iPod would be if someone were to buy her one. Luckily, I turn 35 on Thursday, Feb. 24th. And I have two parents who are suseptable to whining and martyr-like activity. So this weekend I will be getting an iPod from my sainted, long-suffering parents. Thank you John and Marilyn. You have no idea what this will mean to me.

I find it ironic that I am the last of my friends to actually get an iPod, when I am the most rabidly and freakishly music-centered of all my friends. Maybe this is Apple's way of saying, "remember that Mac you let your ex-boyfriend have? Your disloyality did not go unnoticed. Now we will make you watch as everyone around you gets an iPod. Ha HA, suffer! Feel like making another crack about U2? Now you get to wait another 6 months before you get the iPod. We are Steve Jobs. We see all."

I have obviously paid my dues, because this weekend's the weekend. Unless, of course, my parents decide that they're going to surprise me with... um... NOT an iPod. But since kicking and screaming will commence, and kicking and screaming by a 35 year old woman could not be LESS attractive, somehow I think they'll stick with the original plan.

I am predicting that my relationship with my iPod will be unhealthy at best. Downright frightening at worst. People, I'm already thinking up NAMES for my iPod. Though right now I have settled on Mr. iPod until I can come up with something better. See, I'll need to meet the iPod and really get to know him before I can think of an appropriate name. Yes, sometimes I scare even myself.

I am also thinking of the upload ritual and how that should go. You know, which music should be uploaded first... a sort of "champagne over the bow" of Mr. iPod. As of today, I'm thinking "OK Computer" will go first. Followed by "The Bends." Maybe then "Amnesiac," followed by "Kid A." Never underestimate the power of a properly christened iPod. He will serve me much better if the right music goes on from the get-go.

Yes, I said get-go. I'm allowed, I'm rambling...

I am envisioning my first night in the small town of Rye in England in late August. I'll be on my own at this point, and wanting to explore the town. I'll walk into a pub, order a pint (hopefully of Killkenny or Smithwicks, if I have my way), have a seat at a table, and put in my earphones. I'll probably opt for some Delays at that point, or possibly even the aforementioned Radiohead, who knows. And I'll write in my journal about what a lovely town Rye is, and how "Pablo Honey" is the perfect soundtrack.

Or you know, something equally as pathetic.

You see, I love my iPod before we've even met. He had me at i...