Emitt Rhode

Shayne Weinstein hooked it up in the fall of 2006. People talk about Vegan skinny bitches, and Shayne fit the bill, but was actually the nicest person I met the entire time I was down in the Southern hemisphere. Tattoos aplenty; the outline of a sailboat was pretty kickass, but the winged, abstract piece on her back was by far the most outstanding of the body art. Like strings of seaweed in the night sky, her hair was always on the verge of being a mess, but always the most well kept of all the other students. Did it help that she was 26, while the vast majority of us were not even 21? Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. Everything about her was spot on, even her hottie, bartender boyfriend, Adam; another skinny, sinewy twenty something. She hailed from Portland, Oregon, home of countless Indie Pop artists, she herself not a musician, much to my surprise with the sort of rock star like following she received from just about everyone in the program.

While riding a bus up in the high altitudes of the Salta region of Argentina, we found ourselves occupied by our respective iPods. Knowing all I did about her visual aesthetic, I inquired as to what she was listening to. Much to my surprise, she was enamored with Pop from the 1960's and 1970's; an area of music which, at that juncture of my life, knew practically nothing about. So along comes sounds that I had always been hearing in my head, but never knew how many people were trying to achieve; I suppose the major difference is that they so far have succeeded in their endeavor.

So I bring you Emitt Rhodes, the saddest power popper ever. He did it all himself in a home studio built in his parent's garage. Then one day he discovered he couldn't put out records as fast as the record company demanded. They fucked him. So let's all enjoy some pop music, because we're all kidding ourselves for one reason or another.


New plan, less Neil Young, more power pop. Tune in next time for a little Pacific Blue. Basic Cable bike cops that is to say.