the quivers

so a while back i recommended the heavy for that feel good, vinyl-esque dirty rock and roll with lots of funk and plenty 'o' fun.
i hope that [insert readers here... *crickets*] everyone got their copy of the house that dirt built because without this essential building block of epic dirty rock, my next recommendation will fall flat.

for the month of august i'm prescribing a healthy dose of the black keys. now, don't mock, i never used to like them. they were kind of... eh when i was younger and less of a filthy hipster. i was a hipster, but not to the outrageous level that i am today. if i knew then what i know now... i don't even know what i'd do with that plethora of information.
i'd definitely start snorting coke... i'm too old to develop a classy habit like that. i'll stick to my g&t.

whoa, off-topic. bear with me, it's been a trying day hocking shitty jewellery to the entire immigrant population of calgary.

i'm digging the reverb heavy vocals and the driving beats, the rocking guitar and the... suggestive lyrics. there's nothing i like better than a clearly stated double entendre in my dirty rock and roll.
i guess i should attempt to describe what i think is 'dirty rock and roll' since i keep waxing poetic on the definition:

anything you wouldn't hear on top 40 radio; it's gritty, like you're listening to it through your dad's fabric covered speakers he got with his paper route back in 1967, the 'stereophonic' sound coming through muffled and scratchy just like it was intended. it sounds like vinyl-- dirty, scratchy, pops and cracks but it's intentional instead of poor record maintenance (not that i've ever been neglectful of the massive collection of 45s we have. i think my father would rip out my heart with his bear hands if he ever found i'd been a dickbag to his precious'). it simultaneously makes you want to dance, fuck, smoke hash, drive a vw van across the country, smoke more hash and fuck while on hash, protest everything and fuck everything.
okay... heavy on the fucking.

the black keys, fronted by dan auerbach (guitar/vox) and patrick carney (drums) is remniscent of the white stripes' set up.
it makes me giggle when i think if they ever toured together it'd be the white stripes/black keys PIANO SOUL tour. baaahahahahahahahahahaha ohhhhhmyfcuk.
[A/N: aaaaaaaaaaghhhhhhhhh brain melt... stanley krubrick marathon on tv while i wrote this and eyes wide shut demands my full attention to understand what the fuck is going on].  some dirty journalist described the duo's sound as old-soul, but i'm going to describe it in my own eloquence as dirty fucking rock. you can remove the cuss word if you're sensitive. i should put a disclaimer on these...

i understand that this kind of sound isn't typical to a summer playlist. it's a heavier sound, not poppy and airy and fluffy and 'oh-my-god-katy-perry-is-a-fucking-twat' [cal-i-forn-ia gurls we're un-dee-ni-a-ble suck-my-balls-bikinis-on-top]. i'd like to point out that i can see anyone driving down a major hi-way/interstate in a land shark [my apologies to anyone who doesn't know of the works of the late and amazing hunter s. thompson and BOO ON YOU] grooving out, a fatty dangling while someone jacks/jills your off as you cruise.

this is the perfect theme music for driving and for screwing; for being the most base form of yourself that you can become. i'm truly digging the sounds that eminate from my speakers when i'm listening to the black keys. [A/N: FUCKING STANLEY KRUBRICK MUSIC SCARES THE LIVING FUCK OUT OF ME. just thought i'd share that with ya'll].

so without further ado, my recommended recommendations.

next girl
10AM automatic
psychotic girl
got mine
tighten up
nothing like you (mos def)
girl is on my mind
strange times