The Milk Man

and those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music. FRESH MILK, MUSIC, THOUGHTS–DELIVERED DAILY

Month: January, 2014

The Super Bowl Shuffle

If I see one more person post the photo of , “2 States Who Legalized Marijuana are Playing in a Super BOWL lol” I’m going to lose it. The over/under in Vegas on how many high school seniors will pack a bowl, light it, hold in the air, and announce to the entire party, “Oh! Brahs. The Sewpar Bowl has begun!” is currently at 100,000. Doritos is expecting a huge year for snacking, and their not-so-subtle-glory-hole advertisement is perfect.

You ask too many questions Billy.

As for the game—it should be good. Since the playoffs started, I’ve felt like the script has already been written, screaming at homeless men about conspiracy theories. The Sheriff  is riding a stallion named Destiny . He will not lose. He will play with a broken arm, neck, and one leg before he retires with fewer Super Bowls than his family’s pet horse. So when the final horn blows, you’ll see Peyton, a sheriff at sundown, smiling that cheeky grin and lifting the Lombardi trophy. The New York Post will read “PEY DAY; Peyton Manning, Super Bowl MVP, leads the Broncos to victory as advertisers celebrate the most-viewed Super Bowl in the game’s history.”

But the real question here is, why was Bruno Mars picked as the half time performer? I’m not going to be as mean as Tyler the Creator, but he is brutal–everything he’s done sounds like something else. Unoriginal little elf. Did the person in charge ask the entire staff to go poll their middle school kids? Whoever was in charge should be forced to sit in a windowless room for three days straight with a fedora glued to their head, listening to Lazy Song on repeat.

Am I the only one asking, why didn’t the Boss get the call? He just came out with a new CD, he’s from Jersey and he’s more American than an obese person spilling chilly down their chin onto on a bare chest while watching football in yellow-ish underwear. He did the show back in 2009, would be the only argument, but even so–who cares?

Is anyone alive out there!

TEEF and Soul

Take a good look at this man.

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Look at that grin. The flow. Those spectacles.

This man is Allen Stone. Deep inside this man,  who describes himself as, “A hippie with a soul,”  is indeed, something powerful. He sounds like he should look like Aretha Franklin. I’d love to see someone’s face who’s only heard him, go see him in concert. HUH! This Washington-state-white-boy with crazy teef has more soul than chicken noodle soup. Listen, hear. Listen here. (right after the 4-minute mark, it gets loco (Spanish for crazy))

GOODNESS! Don’t say I didn’t warn you! It’s hard to believe. I guess that’s a bit racist in a way, but it’s honest.  Homie is currently working on his major record debut for Capitol, which should be out this summer. And it will be tasty.

Mister Stone is also on the move, letting that soulful bird of a voice fly all over the world.

Feb. 15: Boise, ID (Zion Bank Building)
Feb. 19: San Francisco, CA (The Independent)
Feb. 20: Los Angeles, CA (The Echo)
Feb. 28-March 2: Jakarta, Indonesia (Java Jazz Festival)
March 7-16: Austin, TX (SXSW Music Festival)
March 29: Phoenix, AZ (McDowell Music Festival)
April 12: Blues Festival 2014 (Byron Bay, Australia)
May 16-18: Gulf Shores, AL (The Hangout Music and Arts Festival)
June 11: Chattanooga, TN(Riverbend Festival)
June 14-15: Los Angeles, CA (Playboy Jazz Festival)

Playboy Jazz Festival will be MC’d by George Lopez… for those wanting a good reason to go. Let this powerful voice awaken your soul, and get them toes a tappin’. Here’s one more; a stripped down version of a track that’ll be on the new album.

Let you spirits fly. CAW! CAW!

“Ordinary riches can be stolen; real riches cannot. In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you.”

-Oscar Wilde

Wednesday is Zen’s Day

This video right here–will ease your worried mind. Put  some headphones in your ears, relax your your body and get transported to a magical place. The song is Mike Monday–When the Rain Falls. This might be heaven.

 

Some of the shots are in Iceland from the man Warren Miller’s Ticket to Ride. From what I’ve heard, Iceland is the truth. That video is some serious bait. Good music to shots of skiing/snowboarding  is such a solid recipe for pure enjoyment. I haven’t been that in love with a video vixen since this nibble. (turn down your headphones. It’s a little louddddahhh.)

 

And for those of you who can’t put headphones in–peep this.

Assist goes to Ms. Cassetta, on the first vid. If you’d like to see anything posted, or have some tasty tips, shoot me an email at robert.m.summerlin@gmail.com

Zen on, sweet creatures.

“It’s being here now that’s importnant. There’s no past and there’s no future. Time is a very misleading thing. All there is ever, is now.” -Mr. George Harrison

The Weekly Nibble

It’s always tough to root for a Yalie, from Brooklyn, whose name is Ellis Ludwig-Leone whose band classifies itself as Baroque Pop, and recorded their album in the woods of Canada, but San Fermin, is delicious (I’m also happy to learn of something that can rhyme with vermin—one of my favorite words).

Named after the Spanish festival most famous for the running of the bulls, and the plot of Ernesto Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises, this 8-piece troupe is a tasty mix of Noah and the Whale, Sarah Bareilles, and Beirut (who I recently heard on the trailer for Mitt Romney’s new documentary on Netflix originally called Handsome Robots in Politics but was renamed to Mitt. He comes off very much human in the trailer. Likeable even.)

These hip kids know how to make a song, and a music video. Here’s my favorite of theirs.

I’ll fall for you soon enough, I’ve resolved to love / Now I know it’s just another fuck cause I’m old enough / Sell lies like they’re only drugs, here to pick me up

Mmm! Lord! Those are some words.

When she busts into Oh, don’t be scared / But it’s a harder kind of fear –I want to throw a chair through a window, out of happiness. It’s got a SOUL you can taste.

Here’s another. The voice of Allen Tate, the featured vocalist on this diddly, is like cold chocolate milk. Or a strong, rich coffee. Or a very pulpy orange juice, freshly squeezed. I want to bottle it. Save it for a rainy day.

Nothing like kids painting their faces, jumping into water in slow motion.

These hip kids will be playing in NYC on February 7th at the Bowery Ballroom—for their full tour—peep here.

And one last video—them perusing the streets of Paris, while filming a Take Away Concert. Enjoy!

January 26, 2014: A G’Day for Music, Australia

No, it wasn’t great because of the Grammys, which I missed because I was fast asleep, but apparently the big story there, is Pharrell’s hat. It was a great day for music because it was Australia Day, or “STRAYA DAY c*nt,” as any Aussie would tell you. For those not aware of it’s significance, ‘Straya Day, is the country’s 4th of July, their national day, the government made this PSA for the uninformed—nationalism, glass some pooftahs. Basically, everyone gets loaded, the word c*nt  rings throughout the country, everyone sports yellow and green, but most importantly the whole country turns on Triple-J, the world’s best radio station, and listens as they count down the 100 best songs of the year as voted by the people—in true democratic style. This year they celebrated their 20th anniversary.

Previous winners:

2012: Macklemore and Ryan Lewis: Thrift Shop

2011: Gotye ft. Kimbra: Somebody That I Used to Know

2010: Angus and Julia Stone—Big Jet Plane

2009: Mumford and Sons: Little Lion Man

And so forth. Though the winners tend to be predictable,  the beauty is that all 100 songs are usually milky, sneaky treats, with a lot of Aussie products in the mix. You can find the whole list on Spotify—a service I’d highly recommend, for $10 a month it’s worth it, you gotta believe me, I don’t work for them, but I digress.

AND this year’s winner is….

 

The closest thing to Michelle Pfeiffer that you’ve ever seen–A happy jam with a mediocre music video, a local product from Melbourne and a graduate of Monash University, off the EP with a phenomenal name, God Loves You When You’re Dancing. PREACH. For the full list—peep here. And for a milky infographic—peep here.

As for the Grammy’s… woof. I love Daft Punk, probably the best concert I’ve ever been to (2007 Randal’s Island), but I thought Random Access Memories, was insanely average… Album of the year? No. Get Lucky record of the year? Ok.

The fact that Kendrick walks away with nothing, is silly (even though I was pulling for Yeezus, “In a French-ass restaurant / Hurry up with my DAMN croissants,” is the best lyric of the past decade). And why didn’t Timber win every award? And shouldn’t Pitbull be receiving a lifetime achievement award?

Alas, no one will ever be happy with people telling them what music is best, so we might as well just accept it. Happy Straya Day… kahnts.