Hey, remember this blog?

So it's December. I'm sick of the Arcade Fire Christmas EP already. They were just screwing around at a party. Kind of like that time I photographed myself throwing up peanutbutter Shasta all over my Zubaz pants. Except more warbling.

December is a tough month for me, and this one is shaping up no different. I'm trying to avoid an entry ham-fisted with winter-emotion, or which contains the phrase "snowfalls on sleeping pills".

Just a song or sound that I find (and have always found) quite interesting.

The Russian Futurists - A Mind's Dying Verse (You And The Wine)

It's the soundtrack to a tour of Paris courtesy your Intellivision, yet still burning up the McDonaldsland wi-fi at a linger-zone in your near future. Or maybe it's Teddy Ruxpin breaking into interpretive dance, while his tape's being eaten.

Who cares, I just like to cram those pop-culture allusions.

I've been aware of The Russian Futurists for quite some time. Much like nine inch nails, or Bright Eyes, it's essentially one guy. I had the chance to see him several times while I lived in Hamilton, but alas was deeply immersed in the brown waters of Falcon Beach that year. Why was it summer all the time... in Manitoba? Further, how can one not be addicted to a show that has innovated the lost art of the mid-programme wake-board montage.

I regret a lot about that year.

But I digress. I 'discovered' The Russian Futurists back in... 2001? Yeah, my first winter living away from home, adrift in introductory philosophy and Barney Miller. And you know what? When I think of Barney Miller I'm awash in sepia tones as the precinct always seemed so... yellowed.

And this is how I hear The Russian Futurists... muddy, yellow, but damn catchy. As if Wojo, Yemana and Fish busted out the toy keyboards.

-kam

Buy The Russian Futurists' "Method Of Modern Love" here.

This is terrifying to listen to, yet I recommend...