DJ Earworm’s 2008 edition of “United State of Pop” was one of the most disturbing, oddly pretty things I’d heard in ages. The pitch-perfect mashup maestro continues his yearly tradition of crafting silk purses from a score-and-five sow’s ears with his 2009 offering:

“United State of Pop 2009 (Blame It on the Pop)” by DJ Earworm. A Mashup of the Top 25 Hits of 2009, according to Billboard.

Oddly uplifting, ne? Ariana puts it well: “100% amalgamated poptimism from a keep-your-head-up year… a ribbon of shiny all rightness pulled off the box of meh that was 2009.”

While this edition doesn’t move me on quite the same level as “Viva La Pop” did (that mournful, menacing homogeny!) “Blame it on the Pop” is still a thought-provoking and highly danceable mashup.

Repeating for emphasis: the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. I can’t bring myself to sit all the way through most of these cruddy pop hits ONCE, let alone listen to them on repeat. But I find myself revisiting DJ Earworm’s yearly Billboard mashups over and over again. They are beautiful, and they frighten me.

Download “Blame it on the Pop” here. Full playlist after the jump.

Rowland S. Howard, [via]

And the hits just keep on coming. Rowland S. Howard –patron saint of stabby, moody, stark, atmospheric, echo-soaked guitar perfection, and an indispensable member of the Birthday Party, the Boys Next Door, Crime & the City Solution, and These Immortal Souls– has succumbed to liver cancer, aged 50.

Howard remained a vibrant, prolific talent up to the very end. Longtime friend and bandmate Mick Harvey says:

Sometimes people are ready to go because they have been sick for a long time, but Rowland really wanted to live. Things were going well for him outside of his health and he wanted to take advantage of that and he was very disappointed that he wasn’t well enough to do so.

Nick Cave and Rowland S. Howard, Birthday Party era, early 80s. Photographer unknown. [via]

It’s already New Year’s day here in Australasia, where Howard hailed from. Last night, in his honor (and on behalf of everyone else who has struggled more than usual this year) me and mine donned our blackest, pointiest, shiniest boots and kicked 2009 relentlessly in the poop chute until the fucker left the building. Soundtrack included “Shivers”, “Hamlet Pow, Pow, Pow”, “Release the Bats”, “Big Jesus Trashcan”, “Her Room of Lights”, “Pop Crimes”, and “Jennifer’s Veil” to name a few.

This is the journey
To the edge of the night…

Rest in peace.

*In the Philippines, online anyway.

Gotta wonder if the amount of celebratory explosive devices (bottle rockets, prescription squibs, ask sparklers) set off between now and Jan 2nd will decrease this year in the wake of airline shenanigans perpetrated by one Mister Sizzly Pants. Doubtful. We do so love to blow shit up.

Please, just play safe with the splodey stuff, comrades. At least try to be self-preserving, eh? Not like these guys:

Da banger in der bunger! (NSFW)

FFFSSHHH KERPOW ZING ARE YOU AWAKE NOW?

OH HOLY NIGHT SHIT:

“Merry Christmas, Queens!”

Just in case you missed it, here’s some lively footage shot by the LGBT activists who crashed Hiram Monserrate‘s Christmas party in Queens on Dec 22. Quote du jour: “Hiram believes marriage should be between one man, one woman and a broken bottle.” YOW.

Tensions have been running extremely high in NYC since several Democratic senators shocked gay civil rights supporters by ensuring the rejection of a bill to legalize same sex marriage. The final vote was 38 to 24.

Understandably, proponents of the bill have been feeling an extra bit of ire toward Monserrate. Convicted of misdemeanor assault charges in October for assaulting his girlfriend (allegedly with a piece of broken glass), the Queens lawmaker had initially voiced support for the bill, but later changed his vote to nay. “Meanwhile he wants to marry his girlfriend and he wants Sen. Ruben Diaz, who has been raging against gay people in New York forever, and who is an ordained minister, to marry him.” (via)

Gay activist Jon-Marc McDonald at a rally for marriage equality in New York City on December 3, 2009.

Watch to the end to see the protesters being congenially escorted out of the building (“thank you very much, brother, appreciate it, have a good evening!”), where they questioned Monserrate’s openly gay chief of staff, Wayne Mahlke, who replied that he did not share the senator’s views.

Photo by Ben McCormick

Singer-songwriter Vic Chesnutt intentionally overdosed on muscle relaxers, lapsed into a coma and died Christmas morning, aged 45, in his hometown of Athens, Georgia. A memorial service was held for him today.

Many are devastated, some are angry, few seem surprised. In addition to his physical impediments (he’d been wheelchair bound since 1983 when a drunk-driving accident left him paralyzed from the waist down with limited use of his hands and arms), Chesnutt struggled his entire adult life with crippling depression. He channeled this anguish into writing raw, unflinching songs that tackle the pain of the human condition head on, often with a wicked sense of humor.

His scrappy authenticity garnered the love and respect of a wide variety of fellow musicians, from Jeff Mangum to Michael Stipe to Patti Smith. His band lineups over the years included members of Fugazi, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Elf Power, Throwing Muses, and more.

In 1996, Garbage, Smashing Pumpkins, REM, Sparklehorse, the Indigo Girls and others covered Mr. Chesnutt’s songs for Sweet Relief II: The Gravity of the Situation, a tribute album benefiting a foundation that raises funds to help pay the medical bills of uninsured musicians.

(via)

It was, needless to say, a cause close to the decedent’s heart. There can be no doubt that Chesnutt’s ongoing struggle to pay off Sisyphean medical costs contributed to his despair. He’d recently been served with a lawsuit filed by a Georgia hospital after accruing surgery bills totaling over $70,000. He couldn’t afford more than hospitalization insurance, and was no longer able to keep up with the payments. From an interview with the LA Times earlier this month:

I really have no idea what I’m going to do. It seems absurd they can charge this much. When I think about all this, it gets me so furious. I could die tomorrow because of other operations I need that I can’t afford. I could die any day now, but I don’t want to pay them another nickel.

What a nightmare. Now is not the time to get into a political discussion about health care reform in the United States (actually, no, strike that– it’s probably the perfect time… I just don’t personally have the stomach for one at the moment) but it’s worth at least acknowledging that the horrific plight of the uninsurable is one faced by untold millions of far less luminary –and conflicted– Americans than Vic Chesnutt.

Chesnutt’s good friend Kristin Hersh has set up a tribute page accepting donations. 100% of that money will go to his family.

RIP.

Chances are good you’ve already heard tell of Mike from Milwaukee and his 70 minute long YouTube video review of The Phantom Menace. But have you actually taken the time to sit down and watch this vitriolic magnum opus?! I’m not gonna say “you haven’t lived” or anything, but this has got to be one of the funniest, most devastating blockbuster smackdowns in the history of cinema, let alone the internet.

Post-holiday depression can be a bitch. Let heathenish laughter cure what ails you, and pass the pizza rolls.

(Sorry, yeah, it’s a rerun. But it never gets old! Merry xmas, naughties of the aughties.)

Morning already? Fuck… I’m think I’m still drunk.

It’s the most wonderful time of the year… for watching holiday fare with lapsed copyright. Betcha can’t channel surf right now without stumbling across earnest ol’ Jimmy on his existential quest for redemption. Many of us know this movie by heart by now.

Or do we?

Not that you really need context, but this is a scene from 976 Evil 2. Despite featuring astral projection and Brigitte Nielsen, it’s a borderline unwatchable film. But this bit is pure genius: a busty sorority babe’s up late watching TV, trying to choose between Night of the Living Dead and It’s a Wonderful Life, when a Satanic, co-ed stalking college dean turned serial murderer possesses the remote and somehow traps her in the most horrific public domain mashup imaginable.

Zuzu, NOOOO!

“We remember it well now, our younger days, when we got the cassette deck for the car. The windows always rolled up, closing us off to the outside world. We moved steadily as things rolled by, always with the cassettes playing at the loudest possible volume.” [via]

Joshua Z-P (of Roadside Picnic Podcast and A Room Forever fame) and his friend Adam Helms were recently asked by Type Records (home to Svarte Greiner, Deaf Center, Grouper, and Koen Holtkamp, among other phenomenal bands) to compile a mix for their Typecast series. “So a mix we did – one of epic and biblical proportions which we now share with you. This isn’t your older brother’s black metal – there’s no Dungeons & Dragons posturing while wearing corpse paint. Just pure, brutal, lo-fi nihilism full of tape hiss and vinegar.”

Cirrhus, Horrid Cross, Haxan.

All tracks were transferred from cassettes, save the Akitsa song. There’s Bone Awl and Ash Pool and freakin’ Ancestors and a bunch of even more obscure shit I don’t recognize at all. Holy balls, this mix is awesome. Sadly, the vast majority of our readers will find it unlistenable. So unless you enjoy making your eardrums hemorrhage with tinny, shrieking, blood-gargling KVLT AS FUCKNESS, please back away slowly from this post without making direct eye contact, and click here instead.

Tracklist after the jump.

See also:

• Backyard Metal Jamboree/Scream-Along
• To Build a Fire (A Most Grim and Epic Fire)
• Mix It, Mix It Good
• The Black Oven: Tasty, Tasty Doom
• Nothing is Sacred, Everything Is Terrible

O’Bannon as the legendary Sgt. Pinback in John Carpenter’s 1974 cult classic, Dark Star. (O’Bannon also wrote the screenplay.)

Dan O’Bannon –the screenwriter who penned Alien, Total Recall, Dark Star and wrote/directed The Return of the Living Dead– has died, aged 63, following a brief illness.

Think about it for a second: without this man, we wouldn’t have Ellen Ripley. For that contribution alone, Dan O’Bannon is ensured the eternal adoration and gratitude of everyone here at Coilhouse.

In honor of the departed, here are a handful of scenes and previews from just a few of the fantastic sci fi and horror films O’Bannon worked on over the years. Requiescat in pace.