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artist, mother son, fuckinggirls, motherson, festival, robotics, stories, online music promotion, wordssong lyrics ja rule i'll f___ u girl (skit) unknown, mom and son sex., the traveller, mysql, Album opener "Assessment," a gently rolling rocker, culminates with a concise but convoluted freak-out driven by guitarist-vocalist Steve Mason's sticky-fingered rhythm songs and a wall of horns that simultaneously evokes Sam & Dave's "Soul Man" and "Tonight," by Supergrass. The interlude is so packed with stop-start surprises and whimsical flourishes that its songs anticlimactic ending only makes you wince a little songs bit. Same for "Liquid Bird," a dubby micro-epic that runs on Mason's gated-delay guitar mindfuck and drummer Robin Jones' fluid variable-tempo breakbeats. As with most of the album, the song's meaty means justify its clunky end: Heroes maintains such a ferocious level of synaptic activity that you can't help but wonder if the Betas are simply saving the compelling conclusions for touring time, like Luscious Jackson in reverse. ROD SMITH MARTHA WAINWRIGHT Bloody Mother Fucking Asshole (Querbes Service) After opening Rufus Wainwright's Moore Theatre performance last winter with her sometimes smoldering, sometimes shy folk/pop cabaret songs, Martha Wainwright spent the rest of the evening accompanying her brother on acoustic guitar and singing her heart out—on backups.
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The mom and son sex. same ones, too, both of them: a single, mildly ringing chord, delivered out of nowhere with even less authority than drama, and a simple, abrupt halt. Such lazy exit strategies seem natural for mom and son sex. L.J., who had the depth of a tortilla chip and an air of psychic inertia so vicious that you couldn't help but marvel at their ability mom and son sex. to start songs, let alone finish them. But the fizzlefest tainted Jackson's live shows alone; someone (producer? engineer? janitor? Beastie Boys?) had the presence of mind to fade them in the studio. Not so for the Betas, a puzzling lapse in light of the fact that Heroes to Zeros—the Edinburgh-based quartet's third album and their first since 2001's Hot Shots II—crackles with spectacularly crafty arrangements. (Clarification: For once, they don't sound like Dire Straits remixed by Beck.)
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