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In the vanishingly unlikely event that anyone is interested, we at Losanjealous are continuing the global search for missing roller derby reporter and comptroller of the El Monte chapter of “Garfield” enthusiasts, DF. (NB: This is not because we are especially concerned about his well-being but because we’d like him to pay back various inanely-placed gambling debts and also to keep us amused with his tendency to imbibe too much Rumplemints and do a regrettable yet hilarious strip-tease to the Revolting Cocks’ cover of “Da Ya Think I’m Sexy?”)

Last confirmed as being in Argentina this July, and since arguably sighted elsewhere throughout the South American continent, DF’s whereabouts remain unclear, though our global private investigator appears to have several leads. Here are excerpts from his latest report:

10/1/11. Tibet. Hirsute, angry gentleman upsets residents of remote Himalayan village by engaging in a loud, several hour long argument with a local yak. The individual was reported to smell worse than the yak, suggesting that it may have been DF. Postscript: all present agreed that the yak got the better of the argument.

10/6/11. Congo. Man alternately described as “frazzled”, “grizzled”, and “frizzled” addresses the Congolese parliament passionately importuning the nation to change its name back to “Rhodesia.” The filibuster failed primarily because Congo was never actually known by that name, which egregious mistake leads us to suspect the speaker may have been DF. NB: the Congolese parliament also rejected the unnamed speaker’s other proposed names for the nation, viz., “McBalls,” “Land of A1 Sauce,” and “Hey, Doods, I Dropped A Contact Lens, Has Anyone Seen It???”

10/11/11. Northern Canada. Shadowy figure visits the relatively new quadripoint where Manitoba, Saskachewan, Northwest Territory, and Nunavut meet. The figure was brandishing an American flag and chanting “U-S-A!!!” whereupon he urinated “American Four Corners Rules! Canada quadpoint drools!” in the freshly fallen snow. The uncanny accuracy of the stranger’s ability to write in the snow with urine suggests that this may have been DF.

What does this mean? Well, very little except that apparently DF is capable of causing socially unproductive havoc in various far-flung parts of the world mere days apart. Hence our suspicion that he may well be on the loose and headed for this weekend’s bang-up LA Derby Dolls bout betwixt the undefeated Sirens (2-0) and the winless-in-2011 Tough Cookies (0-3). A win for the first-place Sirens will put them even farther in the 2011 LADD Championship race, while a loss would scramble the playoff picture like the eggs in your Aunt Tilly’s Denver omelette. And the TCs may be playing only for pride, but one must suspect that the three-time defending LADD champs will not go gentle into that good night and would much savor ending 2011 on the high note of spoiling the Sirens’ perfect season. So wherever the hell DF may be, the important point is that the place to be this Sat eve is la Doll Factory. Tixes are available here but going like the hotcakes in your Aunt Tilly’s … um .. hotcakes, so grab ‘em now and get Eurass out of Eurasia and to el derby this weekend, DF’s whereabouts be damned.

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That I didn’t know much about her or previous band, Gowns, an art rock/folk/lo-fi project with two ex-Mae Shi men, highly regarded by many, in particular for their live show, only enhanced the genuine surprise of Erika M. Anderson’s (a.k.a. EMA) record, Past Life Martyred Saints (Souterrain Transmissions), one of those increasingly rare occasions of coming into something completely fresh, no early expectations formed, and perhaps all the more reason for it to completely blow me away on first listen, on a recent random Spotify encounter.

These songs have a lot going on—guitars, strummed acoustic grunge and electric powerchords, ambient rumbles and bleeps and textures, dense layers of noise as well as pindrop silence, a bit of piano and violin for good measure, stitched together with solid songwriting and arrangements, all done up with some fairly polished production. Her voice is present right up top in the mix, often in self-harmonizing layers and at times artfully fucked with and painfully naked. Genuine sparks of genius flecked throughout this record. Of course, doing the requisite Googling after the fact finds me late to the party; a Pitchfork 8.5 already in her backpocket months ago; raves from the likes of Rolling Stone and Spin, if those rags still mean anything. So the question then, now, as ever, becomes whether the record translates to the stage and at the Echoplex last Thursday, the answer was an emphatic yes. »continue reading Words: EMA @ Echoplex, October 13, 2011

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