Marc Weidenbaum

And a friend managed to identify that "GP L FM" book. It's Gilles Peterson's Lockdown FM: Broadcasting in a Pandemic.

Getting some work done at a small library branch. There is nothing like the sheer glee in the voice of a kid who just realized they can take all these books home with them.

I easily identified several, including ones by Thurston Moore and Kim Stanley Robinson, but many are more difficult, like that one on the top shelf with "GP" (or "F"?) "L FM" on its dark spine.

Much as there are Reddits that dissect the tracks in live sets and mixes, I wonder if there's one itemizing the books in Thom Yorke's Rome apartment.

www.dezeen.com/2026/02/19/s...

Disquiet Junto Project 0738: Speak Not This post is a placeholder until the project goes live. Instructions should pop up at disquiet.com/0738 (powers of automation willing) shortly after 12:10am Pacific Time on Thursday, February 19. (I’l...

Also, disquiet.com is lagging this morning. As a backup the project is also at:

llllllll.co/t/disquiet-j...

This shows an ancient individual, in a line drawing, orating — plus the name and number of the project

Disquiet Junto Project 0738: Speak Not

The Assignment: Saying something without saying it.

Deadline: Monday, February 23, 2026, 11:59pm (that is: just before midnight) wherever you are.

Details: disquiet.com/0738

#DisquietJunto

A new #DisquietJunto music community project will appear at 12:10am Pacific tomorrow (February 19, 2026) at disquiet.com/0738, and go out at the same time to the email list (juntoletter.disquiet.com). The theme explores not speaking. Join in.

And me to you!

Shows Tom Noonan in Heat talking to Robert DeNiro

RIP, Tom Noonan

DeNiro/McCauley: How do you get this information?

Noonan/Kelso: Just comes to you. This stuff just flies through the air. They send this information out. I mean it's just beamed out all over the fucking place. All you have to do is know how to grab it. See, I know how to grab it.

And no, not condoning vandalism. Just pondering the potent emblems incorporated in otherwise mundane electronics.

In my imagination, the shape somehow begins to map to the "house" sigil of the band Negativland, and to the twin snake heads of Christopher Gadsden's "Don't Tread on Me" and Benjamin Franklin's "Join, or Die."

Shows a busted surveillance camera

Today in everyday cyberpunk reality: exposed ethernet cable connectors suggesting themselves as symbols of civilian surveillance pushback — both for the disabled device, and for the implied privacy of wired communication.

We had a murder of hail

Me, young: When I'm an adult I will face unique challenges.

Me, now: Ooh, can I reconnect my laptop to the project-required VPN before the computer alerts me I've been disconnected?

The Feldman one is for our classical magazine at the time (aka the 1990s).

A drawing of the composer Morton Feldman

Nice reminiscence by great artist/writer/creator David Lasky (@davidlasky.bsky.social) about work he did when I edited the comics at Tower Records' Pulse! magazine. Click through for his full-page Beethoven story. Plus a little illustration of Morton Feldman he did.

www.patreon.com/posts/sunday...

Temperature reading says it's 49ºF but "feels like" 31ºF

We don't get snow in San Francisco, but occasionally we're allowed to feel like it could snow

That is cool. I saw them once at a small club on the East Side, but at the moment I'm not quite sure where.

Not present, unfortunately: the great Scott Tuma, whose music has largely drifted away from "songs" (notably, for a spell, as part of Boxhead Ensemble), much as my own listening preferences have. I can’t wait for this concert.

Now, 30 years after their last album, 1996’s Notes Campfire, they are returning with a new one, titled Sanctions — and come mid-May they’re playing just a few blocks from where I live (at the 4 Star Theatre). It looks like “they” is Adducci and Chris Grigoroff.

I fell instantly for their debut, and to this day I will occasionally just erupt into “Soldier’s Joy" based on their cover. More often, the deep swampy bass riffs of band co-founder Joe Adducci will run through my head.

Shows a poster for a Souled American concert on May 18, 2026

Souled American wasn’t the first band I interviewed, as I did a lot of that in college. And they weren’t the first musicians I interviewed professionally. Those were rap metal group 24/7 Spyz and cellist Hank Roberts. But Souled American was, in 1989, my third professional interview gig.

Soon! (thanks, @brucelevenstein.bsky.social!)

[there is no trombone emoji]

Q94 fm in Winnipeg boasted 'ten in a row' but only told you the first and last songs

This sticker is an elegant bit of semi-astroturf (if by no means wrongheaded) propaganda from a less digitized if no more civilized age.

The plays of course were tracked for payments to songwriters, but the “Say It!” matter was an admonition meant to encourage record sales by keeping audiences informed about what precisely they were listening to.

If the phrase isn’t familiar, “When You Play It, Say It!” was a push by record labels the RIAA (Recording Industry Association of America), beginning in the late 1980s, for radio DJs to always identify, on air, the songs that they have been playing.

I was reminded of this particular ancient rallying cry when I saw the sticker on an old LP, dating from the early 1990s.

A sticker that reads "When You Play It, Say It!"

From payola to P2P sharing to digital-era royalties to AI fakery, there’s never been a moment in recorded music without its period-specific business and distribution brouhaha, and varying degrees of resulting professional and public concern.