by carl wilson

Only Connect ... Better
(Plus: Neko revisited)

How did you spend your Friday night? Me, I spent it finally doing the long-planned renovation of Zoilus's LINKS page. It took time, but I think you'll find a much more useful and sleek and comprehensible resource than it was before.

If your reaction on scanning through it is, "Where the fuck is my site! Carl and I have been corresponding for ages and he's linked to it before and, and, and ..." (or if you're an active Toronto music blog/site I haven't linked, because I am trying to be fairly all-inclusive on that level), please email. I'm sure I've forgotten some crucial ones. Please also get in touch about any errors or broken links. Now, on to updating the "In Print" page, and the whole site will be in proper New Year's fettle.

Meanwhile, on a less self-centred note, allow me to direct you to this nice page of lyrics and illustrations relating to Neko Case's upcoming album Fox Confessor Brings the Flood. I saw Neko's show at the Rivoli in Toronto this week (and chatted with her for a future Globe piece, the day before) and can only second Frank's and Chart's accounts of it as a superb set, despite Neko's woozy flu. Music aside, backup singer Rachel Flotard is the best banter partner Neko's ever had, even beyond Kelly Hogan or Carolyn Mark, and way better than Carl Newman, owing largely to Flotard's matchless comic deployment of the word "dude", and that giraffe-scalps-man anecdote that Frank mentioned is in fact the most amazing-horrific-hilarious story I have ever heard anyone tell at a concert. (It should be on a This American Life episode.) The crush of bodies in wintercoats in the packed, packed club compromised my enjoyment (and my oxygen) just slightly. And hearing the new songs live just confirmed how enchanted and well-calibrated they are. It's going to be tough to wait till March to start discussing this album with everyone. But meanwhile it's holding a mirror up to my grim January mood... such as these lines from Dirty Knife (not nearly so narcotic without music, but):

So suddenly the madness came,
with its whiskered, wolven, ether pangs.
He locked the door and he shut the blinds,
he lay down on the floor and he slept like iron,
while the dirty knife worked deep
into his spine.
The blood runs crazy ...
He sang nursery rhymes to paralyze
the wolves that eddy out the corner of his eyes,
but they squared him frozen where he stood
in the glow of the furniture piled high for firewood,
and the blood runs crazy ...


| Posted by zoilus on Friday, January 06 at 10:03 PM | Linking Posts | Comments (5)



Thanks for the linkage! And congratulations, by the way, for placing so high on Kinsella's "Most Hated" list...for someone who made a career out of bashing other people, he has remarkably thin skin.

Posted by matthew on January 13, 2006 12:12 PM



Typo alert: Nate Patrin, not Petrin

Posted by Matos W.K. on January 10, 2006 08:48 PM



I'm really surprised at the linkage but thanks.

Oh, and Cadence Weapon is from E-Town/Edmonton ("Yo, it's corrupt where I'm from / Ed-mon-ton") and not CowTown/Calgary. Day and night.

Posted by Graham on January 8, 2006 08:23 PM



Carl, I was standing very near Frank & took plenty of photos of the Neko Case show, in case you'd like to relive the event via photos.

It was a splendid show, and Neko & Rachel's banter was quite beguiling indeed!

- Beth Hamill

Posted by Beth on January 7, 2006 10:24 AM



Thank you very kindly for the linkage. Flattering, as it comes from one of my favourite sites on the whole Internerd.

Posted by optimus on January 6, 2006 11:32 PM




Zoilus by Carl Wilson