A Clever Swine

The author of that book, Fucked Up and Photocopied, has been putting together these mini-documentaries and iconic band logos like Dead Kennedys, Crass, and Black Flag. You know, all the logos you used to draw on backbacks and stuff. Pretty cool, but when will some brave filmmaker take on the subject of the Limp Bizkit logo? Because that thing is a work of art.

Watch them all after the jump.

Paul Simon and George Harrison play “Homeward Bound", Saturday Night Live 1976

In November 1976, Paul Simon hosted Saturday Night Live and George Harrison served as musical guest. They played a few songs together for the show, including Simon’s “Homeward Bound” and Harrison’s “Here Comes The Sun”.

It’s a real delight to watch two of the most influential musical personalities of the 60s performing together, both strumming their acoustic guitars and alternating verses. In the performance of “Homeward Bound”, hearing Simon’s lyrics, usually sung in his distinctive twang, adopted by Harrison’s quite different singing style and accent is a treat – and when Harrison happily improvises a little guitar ending, the grin on Simon’s face is priceless. It’s clear to see that they enjoyed each other’s company immensely.

Simon said of Harrison upon his passing:

He wrote some of the greatest Beatles songs, but more than that, he had a gentleness and spirituality that made spending time with him a great pleasure. I have been dreading this loss, and I will really miss him.

“Here Comes The Sun” is often still played live at Paul Simon’s solo concerts, dedicated to George Harrison. He raises his guitar in the air at the end of each performance in a salute to his old friend.

Goo, the major-label hello by the ex-indie guitar-rape gods in Sonic Youth, is damn near musical by their standards, a brilliant, extended essay in refined primitivism that deftly reconciles rock’s structural conventions with the band’s twin passions for violent tonal elasticity and garage-punk holocaust. Not that the band ever actually disdained structure in the past, despite its deconstructivist reputation. On howling broadsides like EVOL and Sister, Sonic Youth simply bent melodic convention according to the deviant possibilities of Thurston Moore, Lee Ranaldo and Kim Gordon’s primordial double-guitar-and-bass pool of lava fuzz, buzzing-insect harmonics and harpy feedback. This time, the group hasn’t fallen out of love with corrosion but has merely found new strength in coherence.