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Intellectual House o' Pancakes Webdiary

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2006-07-24 - 1:11 p.m.

Everyone wants to see the snob slip on the banana peel (although watching him slip on any fruit casing is satisfying), and everybody wants to see the "nice" member of The Libertines succeed.

So I'm happy to say that guitarist Carl Barat's new band's album is way ginchy. It's punkier than the Libertines, more akin to the angular antics of the Futureheads or Maximo Park. Barat's voice sounds like a huskier, post-whiskey-bender Paul Weller, and the songs are energetic and anthemic.

Because I take all this stuff way too personally, I am just kind of relieved and glad for the guy.

I watched Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang this weekend--what a fun movie, with an unexpected emotional depth for what is basically a snarky noir pastiche.

Scritti is back! The new album is amazingly catchy and seductive, and holds my attention in a way that the last album (7 years ago, wow) didn't. It is a summer record, the sonic equivalent of wavy heat lines coming off a hot barbecue grill.

Engaged, this weekend, in the time-honored art of forcing myself to sit down and write a bad song in order to get past this can't-finish-anything spell, and was pretty delighted with what came a-spewin'.

I am always open to hearing what creative mind-tricks other people have when attempting to seduce the muse, so if you have any tricks, lay 'em on me.

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