I've been working on some big plans for 2008. 3 EPs and an LP. The goal is put out a bunch of interesting stuff and hopefully raise awareness for the music over the course of the year. Part of that is finding a good PR agent who can help spread the good word. My other big goal is tp move to a point where when we send out our monthly emails featuring new Lipstik songs we're getting 1,000 people to open it. Based on current open rates, that means a mailing list of roughly 3,000 folks. Considering I'm at roughly 532, there's a ways to go. So send over your email addresses. You'll get free tunes and other interesting giveaways. Self-promotion can be exhausting. Such is life.

Just listened to the new single from the forthcoming Band of Horses album, Cease to Begin. The song and structure are fairly straightforward but the emotion and power of the tune are really moving. I love that guy's voice. Heard it from their MySpace page

I got this message from a friend over the weekend. I chuckled both because it's quite amusing and because I've considered many of the antics he recommends.

• To be a rock star, one must act like a rock star. Hence I submit that we should dispose of all the preconceived notions that steer our proverbial ships in directions we are not even aware of. Of course, as we will readily agree, our collective consciousness has been formed by the familiar Sam Jacobs who is dear to our hearts; the polite (if slightly eccentric) young striver from Northern Virginia who burst upon the UVA first-year scene equipped with a Cyclones baseball hat and a fairly salty tongue. This is the Sam Jacobs who was weaned on the Judeo-Christian virtues and is gifted with a preternatural empathy for his fellow man and woman (especially if it could get him laid). Who then, at that time, could possibly have thought to question whether what you see was, in fact, not what you get? For lo and behold, shazzam! -- lurking somewhere deep down in that burly frame, repressed and brooding, was an inchoate Sam Mason plotting his next move and burning with a desire to unleash himself upon the world.

• How then, can we coax and tease out the wickedest tendencies from the core of Sam Mason, allowing him to soar like the war-eagle he is? First I believe we must start by examining the quintessential rock star virtues – namely boorishness, astonishing acts of hedonism, and sheer and utter recklessness. I’m sure that what I’m talking about it already blindingly obvious, but no matter -- I’ll come straight out and say it – I’m talking about STAGE ANTICS.

• In terms of stage antics, I think we can safely say that one should err on the side of being as aggressive as possible. The first concept I have in mind is antagonism. I think at the start of the show you should pinpoint a random member of the audience – it must be a stranger – and during at least one particular song (preferably not Honey Eyes) you should fix gaze upon this sorry lad with mindblowing intensity, eyes like lasers. Upon the conclusion of the song, start an open dialogue with him, jovial at first then descending into bitter mockery. If the audience wasn’t fully into the show yet, if they haven’t yet gotten with the program, well -- they will now.

• At least once during the set you must storm off the stage. Results will be improved if nobody can figure out quite why you have stormed off the stage. Perfection will be achieved if the expressions of your bandmates can be described as “puzzled” or “bemused”, and your bassist feels compelled to chat nervously on the mike to fill an awkward silence.

• Just a suggestion here -- when you return to the stage it should be with a whiskey bottle in hand. Adopt a staggering gait and a lot of swagger.

• See if you can work in a way to break the bottle without actually hurting anyone.

If all of this seems a bit pre-rehearsed, it’s not. I’ve suggested some things, but the specifics are really up to you, and the decisions should be made “on the fly”. The only truly important thing is the mindset – the critical element is the cult of Sam Mason, and it needs to be free to flourish, unfettered.

I did pick up the album. Got it stuck in the CD player for the entire weekend. The clips I'd heard on the Merge website didn't do it justice. All the more reason to be more insanely jealous of Britt Daniel.

The picture on the cover says it all for me - probably my favorite cover of the last few years. It's a picture of sculptor Lee Bontecou in her studio in the 60s. And I think it's an almost perfect metaphor for the way that they think about making music and constructing songs. Creatively latching on big pieces, carefully editing others. Creating something that is familiar but new, slightly off, a new beast of old parts.

Britt Daniel takes all the old elements - handclaps, guitars, backing vocals, and inverts them. Still melodic, still rock, still eminently hummable, but still stripped, lean, muscular and new. When he hits, it's big. Not every song figures out a way to work in the first couple listens but a few insert themselves so permanently into your brain you find it difficult to ever dislodge them.

For 'Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga', those songs are 'You've Got Yr Cherry Bomb' and 'The Underdog', the latter produced by Jon Brion. Former is this infectious little ditty that zips by in just over three minutes, harkening back to Motown, 60s soul, with a little bit of Phil Spector thrown in. So damn catchy.

As Pitchfork already pointed out, 'The Underdog' seems like the Spoon manifesto. Blustery, ebullient, undauntingly optimistic. Horns dance around the guitar lines, the whole time Britt telling us that those that old rube conformity is the hollow poison that can sink your spirit.

The whole thing is an inspiration to listen to. Would that I had the time work on something so precise, so perfect and so articulate. The new tunes I'm doing with Paul will hopefully have something to do with these ideas -- short bursts of fragmented insidious post-modern melody.

Came out yesterday. Got 8.5 in Pitchfork. I may need to pick it up today.

I had a strange dream the other night about Britt Daniel. We were driving somewhere in a car and his blonde head was sitting in the front seat and I in the back and for some reason I was pretending I had no idea who he was. He seemed pretty nice but much more comfortable in his skin than I.

I've said before that he has the best voice in rock and roll right now. It drips with history.