Sorry I've had a weird week. Had to simultaneously help my (fill in the blank¹) out with something pretty important (that I can't get into here), and then, right afterwards, we had a baby shower, with many guests coming in from out of town. Thanks everyone! It was a blast. Can't believe it all came together.

And now, just getting back to normal and getting really back online tonight, I noticed from emails from Thom Donovan - and can see obviously looking back on it - that we had most of Paul Chan’s captions out of order.  They all got shifted somehow. Of course, originally I did have the final image correct, Baghdad in No Particular Order, 2003.  Oh the irony. Well it's all fixed now.  Refresh each page on your browser and reread!  It's a good excuse to, and if you missed it, well read for the first time now - all the better. <sub><sup>-Casey

1. The cross out is a nod to Mr. Chan. But then again, I also do need to keep that private.</sup></sub>

Patrick Wensink, the author of the short story collection Sex Dungeon for Sale! is having an interesting contest over on his site. It's a coloring contest featuring scenes from stories in his book, including "Jesus Toast," "My Son Thinks He's French," "Chicken Soup for the Kidnapper's Soul." To make things more interesting, he's offering as awards a few of his favorite books of 2009, autographed, not by him like Vincent Gallo would offer, but by the author's themselves. Break out those crayons and hi-liters and win autographed copies of Fool (Christopher Moore), Tales Designed to Thrizzle (Michael Kupperman), AM/PM (Amelia Gray), and Help! A Bear is Eating Me! (Mykle Hansen). —mkl

Our Noise: The Story of Merge Records, the Indie Label That Got Big and Stayed Small - I took this book on the airplane over to Art Basel in Miami. Not finished yet, but so far it's a rocking, coffee table-slash-fanzine-esque chunk of a beaut. A good story with a pile of great pics, flyers, 7 inch and LP art to boot.

Needless to say, Superchunk is a pretty important band to me. When I used to work (alone), cleaning up construction sites, burning pink insulation, 2 x whatevers, shingles, and plastic plumbing tubing for $5 an hour, I'd bring along a boom box and a mixed tape of all my favorite Superchunk songs. Mac McCaughan's lyrics would inspire me to either quit what I was doing and/or begin again every so often throughout the day… I'd quit on ethics (the environmental waste) and start again on ethics (well fuck, it's my job, someone has to do it, and this was the way it was done back then) hmmm how can I better explain this?

I guess I mention that association only because the book is as much about work ethic as it is about a great band and label. Superchunk has been around 20 years now and around 18 years ago I broke my own nose at my second Superchunk show (while briefly in school at the New School in NYC). It was a show with Mudhoney and I'd gotten so close to the stage that at some point, after all the pushing from behind, i just ended up sort of crouched on the stage itself, head in knees. And I think it was during "Slack Motherfucker," the band's first "hit," that I headbanged my own nose into my own knee. Crushed it. Not much of a mosher by then but I had to stage dive to get out of there, spraying the audience with my blood. The lyrics of the song that got me so roused went: "I'm working, but I'm not working for you, Slack Motherfucker!" Well I soon walked to the nearest hospital and waited in the lobby where someone was handcuffed to a gurney (bad "trip"- the Dead was in town that night too). The doc finally looked at me and was like "yeah it's broke, what do want me to do?"  Then he sent me packing, after slightly hand adjusting my nose (I should call this blog "My Nose" rather than "My Noise" if I don't stop the personal rambling). In the end my sniffer wound up more hooked than Roman. It had more character, but what a hell of an embarasing way to achieve that.

The band rarely played this song later on in their careers. And why should they? It was at first inspirational, an indie anthem similar to Ian MacKaye's (of Fugazi) "Repeater," which goes: "You say I need a job. Well I got my own business. You want to know what I do?  None of your fucking business!" And you see Mac and Laura, the founders of Superchunk and Merge Records, weren't slack motherfuckers at all, nor had they a reason to bitch about others not pulling their weight (the twist in the line). After 20 years of hard work, dedication, and a lot of pogoing to powerpop ballads (the cover of the book appropriately just shows Mac and Laura Ballance's feet in midair) they've not only spawned some of the best rock tunes of my generation, but they've also had a hand in giving rise to so many other great bands, from Polvo to Neutral Milk Hotel to the Arcade Fire that… well... anyway, author John Cook relates it all in rollicking style and if I get another sec I'll stop being such a Slack you-know-what myself and finish the book and my coverage of the art fair.  It's 3:45 am.  Gotta get Robin up for the plane ride back in a sec...(and will nap first though when I get back, and that ain't slack, but necessary. After all the art I've just experienced... need a breath to make coherent sense of it all)  _{^{-Casey McKinney}}

Look at the book here - http://www.ournoisethebook.com/  - then grab a copy. It's a steal, a textbook in both a business and historical sense, and a photo album of such an important niche of my generation. Smash your head on the punk rock...Gimme indie rock, whatever, watch for the package thieves when you order it, and then just love it, yes.

Mac's noise: "it's dangerous [he's] told," and that's a good thing.¹

_{1. brilliant from the very beginning, eh?}
 

_{artist Patrick Jackson stands beside his - the most fragile piece I've seen so far at NADA, and one of the loveliest. The sculpture of grandmaesque fire mantle figurines is balanced by boxes of mirrors and glass, the weight distributed and adjusted by coins inside the boxes (unseen of course). "Like balamcing a needle on a record player?" I asked.  "Yeah that is how that is done, isn't it, what is it taped?" I think Jackson said, as I didn't tape (in the other sense) our talk yesterday.}


So this is just a quick bookmark note to say I'm not gonna write too much while I am down here; there is too much art to look at in a short time.  But expect more pics and the rest of scoop upon return. Oh and btw (just another tidbit) I almost backed into Jackson's sculpture above (I'm joking, that would'a been the faux pas story of the whole event) trying to take this picture below of gallerist Kate Werble and Christopher Chiappa across the way. A true lady and gent, those two are.



_{Kate Werble with artist Christopher Chiappa}