Hamachi Negro

Hello all,

Just a quick note to announce that the new CD by Baltin is available at long last, and yes it is Volume 30 (for anyone who wonders why the disc numbers might be out of sequence the Volume list includes three mixtapes that are no longer in print and one that is temporarily unavailable).

Here's the track roster:

Disc 1:
Alice Coltrane, Blue Nile
Janita, Let Me Love You (Tamita Mix)
Bird, Game (Jazztronik Triple Headz Mix)
Tre/Molo, Nylon
Democustico, Vaga-Lume
RSL, Inside Looking Out
Reel People + Dyanna Fearon, Washing Away
Kinky, Sol (Batucada) (live)
Monday Michiru, Yellow Light
The Matthew Herbert Big Band, The Audience
Re:Jazz + Ultra Naté, Twisted
Jazztronik, Listen to Your Love (DJ Mitsu the Beats Mix)
Mariah Carey, Stay the Night
Vicki Anderson, What the World Needs Now

Disc 2:
Mavis Rivers + Shorty Rogers, I'm Gonna Live Till I Die
Troubleman, Have a Good Time
Jazztronik + Monday Michiru, Tiger Eyes (English Version)
Everything But the Girl, Corcovado (DJ Marky + XRS Mix)
Patife + Cleveland Watkiss, Overjoyed
Amy Winehouse, Tears Dry on Their Own
Anjali, Asian Provocateur
Reel People + Dyanna Fearon, Butterflies
Mondo Grosso + BoA, Everything Needs Love
Restless Soul + Rasiyah, Time to Fly
Alice Russell, Mirror Mirror on the Wolf (Bonobo Mix)
Skye, What's Wrong with Me? (Nouvelle Vague Mix)
Gustavo Cerati, Beautiful
Swing Out Sister, Will We Find Love?
Peggy Lee, A Taste of Honey

For the full rundown, visit the Hamachi page on the official Liq site, and for anyone who feels inclined to give me any guff about including a Mariah song on a Baltin CD, I say what I've been saying: if Gilles can do it, so f*cking can I, and that track is MAGNIFICENT.

And, yes, that epically sublime boy on the insert is my dream husband P-Rod (Paul Rodriguez Jr.) on the inside cover. For more of his crushingly devastating loveliness, visit his Plan B page, his Nike page (search riders), and the bio on paulrodriguez.com. xo, B.

Still More New (Sonic + Filmic) Loveliness: Brand New Alice R. + Brilliant Monday M. News

I just stumbled on this new bit of jewel-like opulence (I know, I'm feeling back-in-the-day verbose this evening) from the goddess Alice Russell, and while I don't yet know where it's from, I have no problem saying that it's the most radiant dancefloor killer track from her in a long long while.

Also on the goddess front, for anyone who doesn't yet know, the new Monday Michiru cover album – with the title cut being "My Ever Changing Moods" (!!!???!!!) – is set for Japan-only release on Geneon on July 4th. Consult the official Monday site for the occasionally perverse but for the most part characteristically brilliant tracklist. And drench in this other bit of magnificent news culled from the girl's email newsletter:

"NEW JAZZTRONIK COLLABORATION!: You know I'm a fan of Jazztronik; I think Ryota is really talented as both a beat & track maker as well as a musician and composer. So when he asked me if I could sing and write lyrics for a new track, I leaped at the chance – HELL YEAH! We just finished last weekend and it's a fun Latin Jazz House number entitled "Mista Swing." To be released June 27th from Pony Canyon in the album entitled 'Grand Blue.'"

And the gods collide to provide more prescient Technicolor and vivacity once again... (xxooxx)

An Old Sonic Love Who's Turned Out to Be EPICALLY F*CKING EXQUISITE: Mark Ronson (Love + a Litany of Eye-Candy from the Beautiful One)

We all knew well before either Amy album that Mark Ronson was a production genius (as is Salaam Remi), but how I never caught sight of his RIBCAGE-SMASHING EXQUISITE beauty is a true f*cking mystery. Yet the flurry of buzz/hype/what have you surrounding the release of Version has brought tear-inducingly magnificent photo material on him out in tsunami force. And it's a lustrous/effulgent/shimmeringly f*cking beautiful beautiful beautiful thing. Enjoy the above eye-candy–with wistful flashbacks of young Mark Brydon....

In Constant Rotation + Respect to Another Soul-Jazz Empress: London Elektricity + the Mighty Liane Carroll

I've always loved London Elektricity and been despondent that I never got to see the live show while it was still extant, but I did not know about the Live at the Scalia disc/DVD set until I stumbled on it while doing research before Tony Colman's LE US DJ tour in March of '07. Ever since its purchase I cannot seem to stop its constant 24/7 rotation, and have been playing NOTHING else (except for occasional "Love Bug" breaks (see the M-Flo post below)), with this masterwork of live D+B infiltrating my speakers for days on end.

With that in mind, I have also always loved the flawless vocal phrasing of Liane Carroll, and while I have to continue to stew in my jealousy that my girl – and the other true soul-jazz goddess – Tessa Souter got to see Liane at Ronnie Scott's while she herself was in London to kill it at Pizza on the Park, I now at least have the LE live set and this sonically miraculous take on "Dublin Morning" to content myself with. Though it should go without saying, the bit of loveliness that is "Dublin..." has that radiant, sun-kissed Style Council-via-Terry Callier lustre that nothing else can rival, or tarnish. And yes, the other reason for my loving her is clearly her penchant for maintaining a vocal elegance to rival Nancy W. and Cleo L.... even while belting coral-reef-collapsing dancefloor killers with Tony Colman and co., as on this gorgeous take on "My Dreams," with Liane aptly covering for (the great) Robert Owens to say the f*cking LEAST. And as for any other thoughts on Liane you might have while watching these clips, she clearly has a beautiful spirit and my directive is to just close your eyes and soak in that mighty voice.

Much–Needed Color + Light Pt. 2 (The Godly Beautiful Nickodemus + Quantic for Apple)

More on the effulgent color + beautiful boy tip, it's lovely to see the most beautiful DJ in America – Nickodemus (see above) – + the also brilliant + lovely Quantic getting love via the new iTunes clip. I haven't always loved Apple's ad campaigns (including every other iPod commercial to this point), despite my swearing by Mac as a religion, but between their employing "Mi Swing es Tropical" for this commercial and their continual employment of the perenially magnificent and utterly sublime Justin Long – I miss Ed – as the proverbial face of Apple, they're sure as f*ck doing something right. See bonus Justin below... and for blurry but still lovely shirtless Justin visit here.

Much–Needed Color + Light Pt. 1 (The Inevitable Swing Out Redux)

After a sad-ass 35th birthday and a weekend of carnage in San Francisco that was meant to help me find an apartment – a futile plan without a triple-digit income or a recently deceased relative it would seem – I'm pressing on to where to move in Texas, the logical choice being Austin. The chief appeal of Texas is of course that it's closer to Mexico, which I hope means the promise of many beautiful Mex boys. Don't start forwarding my mail yet, we'll see.

In the meantime, I need some radiantly unnatural Technicolor and vivacity to keep me up, as it where, and for that I turn back to my loves Corinne and Andy and my favorite Swing Out Sister clip: the ambigulously tropical spot for "Somewhere in the World." This is, once again, before Corinne got her hand gestures in check even to a point, but she looks lovely and Andy of course looks lovelier.

Also on the tip of lustrous color and flawless art direction, I occupied my birthday week with Bachelor in Paradise, a miraculous feat of Eames/Koenig/Neutra-derived aesthetic sublimity – even with the grotesque handicap of starring Bob Hope as a lethally dangerous lothario let loose in a suburban tract development!?! If ANYONE ON EARTH can overlook the presence of Bob Hope and still call it aesthetically immaculate ANYBODY can. That said, art direction aside, Lana Turner's 90mph Afro-Cuban fire dance in a polynesian nightclub, the presence of the oddly compelling Janis Paige (see also the equally essential 1959 Please Don't Eat the Daisies), the ever-miraculous Reta Shaw in her usual busybody bulldagger role (only diverted from in her staggeringly brilliant nightclub singer turn in 1962's Made in Paris)) – and a script that only the goddess Vera Caspary could pen. Dig these jewels:

"It would be pink."
"That's not pink – it's California coral."
"Who thinks up the names for colors in this country – Tennessee Williams?"

"Isn't it a little early?"
"Early? It's April!"

"A shrimp cocktail and 5 gibsons – not the most balanced diet."
"I shouldn't have had the shrimp cocktail."

"Hey, if your mascara runs you're gonna discolor your vodka!"

Genius.

M-Flo Loves Boa + I Think They're Both F*cking Adorable (In a Completely Non-sexual Way Of Course)

I love that there's such a disconnect in J-pop that disposable (but adorable and engagingly infectious) pop artists like M-Flo and Boa can keep on with their pop grind and still work with the gods Jazztronik and Shinichi Osawa (respectively). That said, I cannot for the life of me get the "Love Bug" out of my head, and don't really have a desire too. For much much much more sublime Boa, click here.

Kinky Loveliness Redux (Part 5—The Godly Ones in Bali Circa '03 – Nothing More Beautiful... and Uli Shirtless!?!)

Perennial Loves/Happy Birthday to a Beautiful Man: Andy Caldwell

I've been meaning to post these exquisite photos of Andy Caldwell for some time – and to say that both the title track of Universal Truth and the shimmering bossa of "I Can't Wait" were among the loveliest of '06 by far – and an email invite to his birthday gig next Thursday at the newly renovated Boardners, with a live PA by the newly reunited Soulstice that should likewise be gorgeous, seemed the ideal time. Enjoy these sublime pics, and let me send best birthday wishes to this fine as hell/epically beautiful man.

Shinichi O. in NYC Tonight!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I just got word via a MySpace bulletin from the brilliant and beautiful Jeff—a.k.a. ex-porn boy Damon DeMarco, writer of the legendarily gorgeous Naked City Boys blog, and now manager of NYC superclub Mr. Black—that the almighty sonic deity that is Shinichi Osawa is spinning at Mr. B. tonight. I'm having a bit of a catalespy in response as I listen to "Everything Needs Love" at deafening volume and trying to salve myself with the above aesthetically superb photo from an article on the Japanese online mag site Air. Needless to say, if you're in NYC and have any prayer in hell of making it, GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If not take solace in one of the Mondo Grosso clips elsewhere on this blog.

Lovely Return: 4Hero

I always miss the gods Marc and Dego when they take years between proper 4Hero discs, but it is ALWAYS worth the wait, and the gorgeous Play with the Changes proves that indefatigably once again. Of course I miss the d+b a bit, but this one is nowhere near as excessively broken as fools had made out. Not remotely as sublime as Two Pages but most definitely lovelier than Creating Patterns, the most shimmeringly beautiful here are the blissfully careening "Look Inside" (+ Face) and "Something in the Way" (+ the goddess Bembe Segue), along with the first single, "Morning Child," with Carina Andersson once again doing her best Minnie Riperton over Charles Stepney strings, in a mode that improves on the boys' exquisite but far too literal take on "Les Fleur." Gorgeous, essential, and much much much needed at the moment.

Even More Sonically Sublime: The True Reigning Mightiest Soul Queen, Alice Russell

The utterly exquisite live clip of "Hurry On Now" that I had here previously has been deleted, but this clip of "Seven Nation Army" (shot in Paris) is, if less miraculous, still the bearer of lovely things to come – via a new Alice R. live DVD due for release in June '07.

More Miss Winehouse: Loveliness with Paul Weller, Tears Dry..., and Drunken Hilarity with Loathsome Charlotte Church

While I wait anxiously to finally see the brilliant Miss Amy (and if all is right with the world, the Dap-Kings backing her up, as they did at the sold out Joe's Pub shows in NYC) on March 19 at the Roxy and again on March 20 at Spaceland, I stumbled upon the above-cited absolutely fucking hilarious video of the girl drunk on the (hideous) Charlotte Church show as the two mangle a song that was dismal to begin with. No fault of Amy on the mangling—if I had to be onstage with Charlotte Church I'd need to get lit first in kind. And to balance the scales, I had intended to include this lovely version of the shimmering Motown magnificence that is "Tears Dry on Their Own," but then I made the even more gorgeous discovery of the girl with Paul Weller on a slightly lopsided take on "I Heard It Through the Grapevine" and a breath-defying take on "Don't Go to Strangers." Dig...

Death of a Sonic Goddess: RIP Alice Coltrane

Love from the Sun for 07 Via Classic Shinichi Osawa: Happy New Year and All That Sh*t

Merry Xmas: Kinky Loveliness Redux (Part 5—Gil Wet and Dripping Radiance)

Death of a Beautiful Man Redux (R.I.P. Rocky—We Love You)

I walked into MJ's last night for Rimjob (mightily sad that I'd missed godly Adam Killian the week before) and was glad and astonished to see Mario Cruz (who I spent several years in love with) on one of the go-go pedestals. That happiness quickly dissipated when he told me that Rocky had died last week. I first met Rocky cruising outside a certain scaggy-ass Silverlake Latin fag dive (that I used to frequent) 2 or 3 years ago, but I had been in love with him for years before that via his porn work. He never got his due, but as far as I'm concerned he was always a godly, sublime, awe-inspiringly beautiful man (and his boundlessly beautiful dildo sessions in the archive on Live and Raw will always bear that out). One of the only good things I can see about my time as Ed.-in-Chief at Cybersocket was that I had a magnificently lustrous time speaking to and hanging out with him for the better part of 2 hours one day when he came in on a Rentboy matter. When I told him that I loved seeing him get pummeled by Rod Barry in Getting It Straight, he told me that that hadn't been a good shoot because Rod fucked him as if "he were fucking a pussy," but that Jeff Palmer had given him the most beautiful fuck of his life. I knew that he was a tweaker, but I didn't know that he was positive. Either way, I had always hoped that I might someday get to lick that sublime hole of his. That might sound trite considering, but the fact is that he was a sweet, beautiful, incredible man that I'm so glad I had the pleasure of knowing, and to say that I'll miss him is an understatement of horrific proportions. Rest in peace lovely. We do and will always love you here. xxooxx, B.

Soul Sounds Supreme + The Best Album of 06—The Brilliant Miss Winehouse

I had long been pining for a new Amy Winehouse album, but I could NEVER have anticipated the sublime kaleidoscopic soul killer that is Back to Black. Yes, Frank was lovely (as was Seiji's mighty rethink of "Take the Box"), but it is nothing next to its successor. From the miraculously lustrous and epically pure Tamla/Motown bliss of "Tears Dry on Their Own" (my pick for song of the year, alongside DJ Mitsu the Beats and Ivana Santilli's "Living Love Song" from the other album of the year, Inspiration Exclusives, and quite possibly (don't hate me for saying this—if Gilles has made peace with loving an occasional track of hers, I can too) Mariah + Kanye's "Stay the Night.") to the pensive Shangri-La's melancholy of "Back to Black" to the gently effulgent Scepter snap of "Love is a Losing Game" to the gruff locomotive blues-drenched Stax flavor of "Some Unholy War" to the rapturous cascading Brunswick shimmy of "He Can Only Hold Her," BTB is absolutely, indefatigably fucking ESSENTIAL, plus she admits to having a lifelong dream of becoming a butcher. (And what is it about her makeup these days that keeps reminding me of Adult Net-era Brix Smith?)

Perennial Loves (Part 1): Milo Ventimiglia

While keeping in faggy pop culture mode and reviewing miraculously brilliant quips, I found this list of quotes from the better days of Gilmore Girls. Yes, last season and the current season have been dull and inane, but if you're not willing to admit from these past lines that it was once pure genius, you're a bit of an idiot. It also gives me an excuse to post several old photographs of the perennially beautiful and godly Milo Ventimiglia from back in the day. As for his Heroes, there is something ineffably remarkable about it in a lovely Mai the Psychic Girl sort of way, and I am most certainly addicted to that at the moment as well (even aside from the loveliness of Milo, Santiago Cabrera, + (to a lesser extent) Sendhil Ramamurthry (I do still love my South Asian boys)). It might be true that only I could segue that to a list of verbal bitch-slaps from Gilmore Girls, but dig:

"You're special."
"Like 'stop eating the paste' special?"

"Drink me. I make life more fun. Everybody from a high school kid to a bum on the street knows that."

"I even put a little wine in the pan to keep it from drying out."
"Well who died and made you Sara Moulton?"

"I don't watch that much television. I don't find forensic work as fascinating as the rest of the world."

"I just hit F4 and the num. lock key and the one with the little Apple on it, and it's freakin' out, like it's on acid or something."

"It's times like these that you realize what is truly important in your life. I'm so glad I had all that sex."

"Well who died and made you Hayley Mills?"

"She's so excited."
"She's brainwashed. She's Patty Heart and my mother's the SLA."

"I was Ricardo Montalban's receptionist for six months and he never complained."
"Who?"
"Don't make me hit you."

New Loves (Part 2): "It's Like Betty Crocker + Charles Manson Had a Lovechild, And He's Cooking For Me."

My other new reluctant penchant of late has been a gnawing/begrudging addiction to Bravo's Top Chef—and the lovely-in-an-obvious-white-boy-way Sam Talbot (don't worry I'll get back to my foremost true love for all Latin boys briefly). I'll hold off on my food-culture as aesthetic wallpaper/ideal for living till an imminent other post, but will say that TC is still a sub-par take on Food Network's Next Food Network Star—whose godly Andrew Schumacher was robbed last season, but at least had his spot taken by the occasionally entertaining Guy Fieri. That said, I will briefly divert from my ramblings on Seijun Suzuki, Jazztronik, Roni Size, and such, to be an obvious fag for a moment and say that Sam is rather fucking hot, the competition has gotten hilarious and on rare occasions culinarily vibrant (though not fucking half as much as it should be), Padma Lakshmi always seemed like a bitch back in her days of hosting FN's Melting Pot, and still does, and tonight's taking out of Marisa + Josie was a nice blow (no, I don't get like this over that Bravo sibling moronic fashion reality fagfest). To have that chased by a preview with my sage source for vitriolic, perverse, and fuck-all brilliant wit, Tony Bourdain, spouting the psychotropically ingenious line that gives this post its subtitle left me anxious for next Wednesday (which I'll have to tape because I'll be going back and forth from Andy Caldwell (more to come on him) and Brasileiro sonic god DJ Marky, but that's another story elsewhere along my obtusely disconnected synapses...). In the meantime, I posted this screen-grab of Sam rather than the actual clip because it's just more aesthetically sound. Feel free to visit YouTube for it.