Showing posts with label Mgmt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mgmt. Show all posts

September 3, 2008

NOW That's What I Call Music! (Special Kooks edition)


The Kooks have proven to be a prolific, if not discerning cover force these days, most notably revisiting a classic standard from international pop juggernauts Ace of Base. They owned November 1993-April 1994 son! (No word yet if the Gothenburg, Sweden-based A of B crew has plans to collab with neighbors Air France, the union of which cannot be spoken aloud but would produce an ethereal Scandinavian pop catalogue only audible to unicorns and the ghost of Robert Goulet).

Back to the Kooks - here's a collection of their latest coverage:








Kids (MGMT cover)








Violet Hill (Coldplay cover)








Young Folks (PB&J cover)








All That She Wants (Ace of Base cover)

Who will get punk'd next? Is there a suggestion bin? Would love to hear a contemporary take on The Neverending Story.

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May 2, 2008

Coolest Video of Early 2K8?



MGMT have been popular for so long now (several months) that you might think it's no longer cool to discuss them, or Judge Reinhold. However this video for "Time to Pretend" is incredibly wig scrambling as it includes pixelated rainbow zebras, Lord of the Flies shenanigans, campfire chants, hipsters riding owls and cats et al. YouTube can't do it justice so check it hi def here.








MGMT - Time to Pretend (from Oracular Spectactular)

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December 11, 2007

Shake That Gingerbread Latte












You don't plan on joining the corporate cog, you're above that of course, but hand stamps and Stellas must be financed. Bigger dreams and all. So but right now you're a contemptster intern at a law firm. On Wednesday mornings, like most others, you sort mail.

At the risk of appearing like a total wad, you've chosen to make a personal statement by wearing earbuds during these sorting hours. Time goes by more quickly, you avoid awkward social interaction, everyone wins. And even if your snickering, conformist coworkers can't actually hear the music, they can read it in your face; in your cocksure swagger and adept three-handed shuffling of interoffice memos and presorted spam. Hallway or runway? No difference here. You think they think you're projecting cool, when in fact you are most certainly a total wad.

Virgins - Rich Girls
Mgmt - Electric Feel

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