Mafia Melodies.

So somebody decided to post every Pen & Pixel album cover ever. Aside from setting a trend that would lead hip hop graphic design, especially in the south, P&P created some straight up hilarity. Take 6-one's thong or Lootchasers' A Million Ain't Enough (wonder how they did with a few hundred each). From Weezy to Keke, from Flex to Rascal (grown as man?), if you got a "Lil" in front of your name, odds are good you were on one of these covers.

In other news, I can haz G1? So Android appears to be the truth, and since, I'm stranded on my own personal Death Row, I figured I may as well drop this piece of crap Sidekick ID and do it big soon. That said, in true T-Mobile fashion, they made the phone dorky, with a curved form that no one seems to like much. Dilemmas. Just Blaze needs to weigh in on it.

Well, it's bowling night, and I'm about to raise up, but before I go, I want to leave you with one of my favorite songs off an album with a Pen & Pixel cover:

Chop Steak writes the great American novel.

That's right. As of November 1st, I'm officially in a cave trying to write a 50,000 word novel. I've always wanted to try this, and with relatively little to do in November this year, I think this is it. Anyone wanting to join me, head to nanowrimo.org, and let's rock. Add me as a buddy, username "chopsteak". Also, if any of y'all want to cross promote via blog or whatever, holler. And on that note, goodnight.

Carpet and sponge mops are not friends.

Cleaning that shit was hard, yo.

That said, I'm pretty certain that the next time somebody walks into my bedroom, the first thought that comes to mind will not be "Did somebody run thru here vomiting?"

I'm sending this to the Resolve carpet cleaner company. Hopefully they'll use it as ad copy.

So, I'm officially declaring my spot clean from the flu incident. I know you were all concerned.

In other news, score another one for teen beauty queens!

According to CNN, Miss Teen Louisiana lost her crown due to an arrest that stemmed from walking out on a restaurant tab, and possession of marijuana. She was arrested when she returned to the restaurant to claim her pocketbook, which contained the weed.

I'll say this again, because it bears repeating.

She walked out on her tab.

And left her pocketbook.

In which she was carrying weed.

Ladies and gentlemen, I am no hardened criminal. I do not advocate drug use, nor walking out on tabs. BUT. If you must, please please please do not be stupid enough to leave a bag full of ID and controlled substances behind, let alone go back for it.

People wonder what's wrong with this country.

Sheesh.

Kenny Gamble & Leon Huff on sampling.

Jacked from nodfactor, this is a little snippet of an interview with legendary soul music producers, Gamble & Huff. They masterminded The Philadelphia Sound record label, and produced records for some of the most respected artists of the 70's and early 80's, names such as Teddy Pendergrass, The Spinners, Phyllis Hyman, The Stylistics, and others.

They talk here about their views on hip hop and R&B producers sampling their tracks, and have a positive outlook toward it. Speaking as someone who has chopped up some of their tracks, I'm glad to hear that they welcome artists bringing new vision to their classic ideas.

Guess I should get off my ass and go make a beat...

Adventures in Crate Digging: Urbie Green - The Fox

I found this at Antone's yesterday for $4.99. It's unlikely I would've given it a second look, but for the fact that I happened to notice the CTI logo in the lower right corner. My copy was a white label copy, in pretty good shape. The record was dusty, but a quick listen didn't reveal any skips, and the cover looks fine.

The trombone is not a sexy instrument. Take it from someone who played it in the fourth grade band. It can't create the acrobatics of wild John Coltrane runs or the piercing tones of a Freddie Hubbard trumpet solo. The need to move the slide back and forth over a long distance to change the pitch makes it much more ponderous than other wind instruments to play, and its smooth tone makes it difficult to sound anything but cool and relaxed. In the ego-driven and virtuoso-heavy world of jazz, then, it is no surprise that trombones do not show up much in the post-big band era. Enter Urbie Green, born in Alabama in 1926. He had a string of albums dating back to the 1950's, and continued recording into the late 1990's.

The album is a 1976 release produced by Creed Taylor, the second of Green's two CTI records in the mid-70's. It's a mixture of mid-tempo disco-influenced tracks, haunting sparse pieces, and dirtier funk numbers. The ensemble varied on the tracks, but it usually included 6 or 8 members, mostly standard rhythm instruments, with the odd soprano sax, yazz flute, or harmonica player thrown in. There is a lot of 70's studio magic used to good effect by Taylor, but the instrumentation itself is all acoustic.

I wouldn't call any of these tracks standouts in the CTI catalog, mainly due to a lack of interesting solos. Green is clearly talented at his instrument, but superimposing 1950's west coast jazz riffs on top of 70's groove-based jazz has limited mileage. It definitely has some sample potential, but it's destined for laid back sounding tracks. The amorphous tracks with no percussion have a few little runs that could make for a decent Black Milk-sounding beat. It wasn't a bad use of $5, but I didn't feel like I'd found anything earth shattering either. From a listening perspective, though, it's worth a spin if you happen to find one in a bin near you.

I'm an hour late on tonight's musical selection, but fuggit.

Choppa here with all the news that's fit to print at 4 AM on Sunday morning.

First of all, Colt McCoy is a Texas legend. And the rest of the gang ain't too shabby either. Kudos to Mack and the boys for handily dispatching Missouri 56-31 at DKR. It's looking like we might have a for real-for real championship run on our hands, provided we can survive the rest of Big XII play this year.

In other play-with-your-balls news, get your shit together, D-Rays. Celtics and Sox in one year. Eff that.

Turning now to the literary department, I picked up a couple books at half price today: Dracula, which I've already started, and The Milagro Beanfield War, which apparently no good New Mexican should be without. Dracula is decent, 70 pages in. It's told in the form of journals and letters back and forth between the main characters, which is an interesting multiple POV take, but a lot of the content seems very superfluous, and until somebody's getting imprisoned by vampires or double crossed by gypsies, it's tough to figure out where he's going with this. It's a good pre-Halloween read though.

And on a cigar note, I smoked half of an Olivia Serie V churchill this afternoon while reading. Spicy smoke, with a nice body to it. Draw was a little difficult, but my cutter didn't fit all the way around the cap, so that may have been the problem. Good first half, but I had to put it out because the game was about to start, and when I came back to smoke the rest, it was mad chilly outside, so I gave up pretty quickly. I dislike temperatures below 60.

And on that note, goodnight, Ned.

Joe the plumber should come fix my toilet.

The flapper is a little loose (that's what she said), and I have to jiggle the handle more often than I ought. That said, I had to wake up way too early this morning, and more or less dozed my way thru the final presidential debate. Sounds like McCain made a little headway though. Bleh.

Anyway, I'm fackin' tired, so that's more or less where this one ends.

Oh, and look out white people.

Wearing a lovely jacket from the Karl Malone collection,

available at K-Mart, TJ Maxx, Rite Aid, and other fine retailers, Charles Barkley appeared on Larry King Live this evening. He dropped some of his trademark folksy, if awkwardly-worded wisdom, but the star of the show was definitely his jacket. It looked like something Gene Autry might have gone roping doggies in before breaking into a heartwarming song. It was navy blue with shiny accents in a giant paisley pattern. Fringes sold separately. I wish I had a picture of this fine garment, but the google is not my friend this evening.

In news no less hideous, apparently alcohol shrinks your brain. Oh wait. That's mostly just women. Phew. Pass the scotch.

Dallas Cowboys management decided to increase locker room confusion today by trading for another Roy Williams. This is great news for the team, if only they had a quarterback. When asked to comment on the story, rapper Cam'ron said, "Pause...no Romo." He then proceeded to push his purple-trimmed shopping cart down Lennox Ave in Harlem.

This is the laziest blog entry in history.

It's not even an entry. Just a link to an article I wrote. On someone else's blog.

You waited seven months for this shit.

Here
.