Super Fun E-mails: Y33BA

Your 33 Black Angels

Your 33 Black Angels writes:

Greetings from Brooklyn!

Last year, Your 33 Black Angels released its debut album, “Lonely Street,” to rave reviews, which you may have heard, or most likely, wrote yourself! Thanks!

NOW, the band is back with the release of its second full-length album, “Tales of My Pop-Rock Love Life,” which is available NOW! The double-LP is once again pressed on limited-edition vinyl and comes complete with a hand-printed cover. It is also available on non-limited-edition CD. The official release date is a week from today.

The album can be purchased at independent record stores across the country, or through the band’s website, Y33BA! It is also now available through iTunes, starting today!


The band recently completed its second national tour of the year, once again going to coast to coast across this wide country. If we didn’t see you, we’ll see you on the next tour! Let us know if you’d like to preview some tracks, some of which can be heard on our myspace.

Most sincerely,

Benji John JR Josh Steve
Your 33 Black Angels


Last year I gushed all over Y33BA and their debut record, Lonely Street. So when I got this e-mail, I decided to post it right away. The problem is “right away”, cause I think it’s been about a month now, and I’m such a Big Fat Loser I kinda lost track of time with everything I’ve been doing and I spaced posting this…or even writing this reply.

Until now.

I just walked in the door from Thanksgiving with The Peeps.

“The Peeps” would be my parents, not the super fun (and now long defunct) All-GRRRL punk rock band from my hometown — Phoenix AZ.

Speaking of Phoenix, that’s where I went. I did what you did, which was lay around and load up on turkey and watch movies and spend Quality Time with The Peeps.

Oh! I love my Peeps. Know why? They accept me even though I make filthy, dirty smut. I think it’s the one thing I was so very thankful for this year.

I make the world’s best interracial sex movies and my parents are OK with it.

Well, at least to my face. I don’t think they’re 100% cool with it all the time, and sure, my mom wishes I woulda got that mighty fine tenure-track position at the local community college. Sometimes, I wish that, too. Just sometimes. In fact, thinking about it right now, I would just about be tenured.

No, I would be tenured. I think being tenured is just about the silliest thing a teacher can earn, mainly cause they can’t fire your ass — at all. I mean you could just about walk into class naked with a raging boner and start jacking like a monkey in the zoo and sure, that would be your last day in the classroom, but, with a semi-decent lawyer, you’d be reassigned to some bullshit desk job in the middle of nowhere on campus for the rest of your days.

Pretty sweet, huh?

You’re probably not wondering this at all, but I scored the following fine slabs o’ black-as-coal vinyl on Black-As-Coal Black Friday:

1) music from the motion picture Black Snake Moan: I love Black Cock Sluts. Really, I do. I know quite a few of them, too, mostly cause what I do for a living…which is employ them and point a camera at them while they’re doing their thing. Christina Ricci is the penultimate BCS in Black Snake Moan, and this record is pretty damn cool.

2) William S. Burroughs’ Break Through in Grey Room: So it’s 1997, and I’m living in San Francisco, and going to grad school, and selling books on the side to make some extra scratch. I don’t really talk too much about this here, cause it’s none of your business, and it has nothing to do with porn, but here I am blogging about non-porno shit, so might as well tell you this story about a Speed Freak who shows up the day I’m at the Buying Desk with a handful of letter Burroughs wrote to him a decade earlier, when Burroughs was still (somewhat) approachable and not too world famous…yet. Anyways, they were great letters, and I paid the dude $150 for all six, which I sold minutes after he left for $300, and I was patting myself on the back thinking how great I did doubling my money in about a minute and a half. Of course I was The Dope, as the dude I sold them to turned about about got $300 per for them, and now they’d be worth way more than that. I thought about that story when I plopped this record on the counter to pay for it. Oh — it’s pretty cool, too. Some kooky juxtapositions and Burroughs reading over them, and Burroughs just reading. Grab one while you can. I hear they only pressed 800 of these.

3) Fight On, Your Time Ain’t Long: I’ve got a whacky Ex who lives in Portland, OR, a town I love very much. Portland proper. Fuck Gresham, and Beaverton, and all those silly places…but Portland is a great town cause it’s very liberal and very, very non-corporate. Which is to say when I go there me and The Ex eat breakfast at Joe’s Place, drink a beer at Mary’s Place, buy a book at Mike Powell’s place, then watch a movie at one of many, very cool, very hip art houses that sell you pizza by the slice and beer by the mug. Anyways, there’s a cool neighborhood called The Mississippi around a street called — you guessed it — Mississippi Street, and now there’s a label called Mississippi Records out of Portland, Oregon’s own Mississippi neighborhood, right on Mississippi Street, and they’re putting together old, obscure blues compilations with tunes like “Wouldn’t Mind Dying” and “Your Enemy Cannot Harm You” by musicains with names like Bukka White, Mamie Forehand, Willie Mae Morris, Bo Weevil Jackson, and Kid Prince Moore. Doesn’t get much cooler than that, huh?

4) Jimmy Radway & The Fe Me Time All Stars Dub 1 — Pressure Sounds ’61: An impossible-to-locate dub record that was issued around 1975 and is now readily available for less than 20 clams. Not too bad, considering an original copy might set you back a grand. I’m still learning about Roots, and Dub, and Ska, and Rocksteady, and Trojan (the label, not the rubbers), and Prince Buster (what a great porn name for male talent!) and Duke Reid and Coxsone Dodd, so don’t expect much from me here, ok?

Oh! Shit! I almost forgot!! I logged into iTunes and grabbed Tales of My Pop-Rock Love Life by the very talented, very hip Your 33 Black Angels and I fucking dig it. But before I get into that, I kinda owe the band an apology. Last Spring I talked to those guys about playing a gig in my porno studio, and I totally dropped the ball. They were down to do it, and I was down to host it, and then, suddenly, a month past, and I was so caught up in work and shit that I totally spaced their SoCal appearances, and the next thing I know it’s too late.

I’m such a tool box.

One thing I’m not is a music critic, or a music writer. I know what I like, and I like these guys a lot, for a number of reasons, none of which I feel like talking about now, cause a pal just phoned me and said Holly Golightly is playing a gig at Spaceland.

Spaceland is a total dump and the last time I was there — hanging outside before a Frank Black gig with my pal Adrianna — they were so rude to me I swore I’d never return.

But it’s Holly Golightly, and she’s got a new band called The Broke-Offs, and she hardly ever plays the U.S. — at least that I can recall.

Holly used to run around with Billy Childish, for whatever that’s worth; I’m sure if you asked her she’d say something like, “not much.”

I dunno. I should go. I guess it depends on how good these new records are, and whether or not I feel like dealing with the dopes at Spaceland.

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