If you have been waiting impatiently, like we have, for a new Beulah record since 2003’s “Yoko,” even though you knew, as did we, that Beulah disbanded, as it were, and that band leader Miles Kurosky was suffering health problems, then good news. Miles has released a solo record, “The Desert of Shallow Effects.” Reader knows how much we admire the Beulah, as their classic CD “The Coast is Never Clear” made our Essential 20 CDs list. Check out the photo page for a Nik Pic with Miles, then go shopping, ya wogs. Stuff ye pockets full of pence and run to the music downloader. In the meantime, here’s a sample:

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Our reader knows that the Low Anthem finished in the Top 20 of our annual best music slash best moustache poll. What you don’t know is that the editorial board decided to pay them a visit disguised as Bad Blake. Yes, the fictional character. “Another McClure’s, please.”

So the tickets read: Doors open at 7pm, show starts at 8pm. Her Mims figured that the opening act would finish up around 8:30pm just as she was making her way from work to the show. She arrived in time to see Bad Blake yelling at the band as they played their final song. Again, I apologize.

In other Low Anthem news, they’ve added a 4th member whom they claim to have met as he hitchhiked in Europe.  Oh, so we’re country dropping now. Is that it? Anyway, I think the newbie throws off the dynamic. I liked watching 3 people jumping around to play 20 different instruments. The 4th guy’s like new Darren. Not a fan.

Etouffe and Planet Roz tried to keep my spirits up by telling me to lay off the McClure’s.  Oh, and also to stop requesting “Dead Skunk in the Middle of the Road.” I don’t see why they couldn’t cover Loudon Wainwright III. I know he’s not Brown material, but then who is?

Ben Knox Miller, apparently. Here he is trying to engage Roz in a staring contest. I told him, “Son, keep your chin up.” And I’m not really sure he knows a lot about Charles Darwin. Plus, why was he wearing a sleep mask? And while we’re on the subject, one of the “instruments” Ben played was his cell phone. Gawd! Now every jack ass with a ring tone and a Cricket account is going to declare themselves to be a musician.

Here I am with bassist/drummer/bassist again/ guitar playing Jeff Prystowsky. He claims to be an amateur baseball historian so of course I had to challenge his knowledge. You’re going down, Prystowsky!

First question: bigger feet – Barry Bonds or Cap Anson?

Next: Indicted in cocaine scandal – Lonnie Smith or Frank “Home Run” Baker?*

Finally: Which pitcher threw out the inaugural pitch for both the Seattle Pilots and the Seattle Mariners.

0 for 3. Take a seat on the bench, Prystowsky. Now buy me another McClure’s.

* Trick question. Cocaine was legal when Baker played.

Do you like being groped by large men at night clubs? Tired of being told “I’m Deon Sanders, bitch!” by every well-dressed black man on the dance floor? Do you need Mel Kiper, Jr. to help you settle a paternity suit?

If drunken bathroom sex is in your future, enter today! Contest not sanctioned by the NFL.  Contest limited to women between the ages of 12 and 20. Trannies not eligible. Remember, he wasn’t going to respect you in the morning anyway.

Scott Raab has been writer at large for Esquire magazine for so many years that his style, his voice, his way of being has become the soul of the magazine, if you will. Gone from the glory days of Esquire are fiction writing (though occasionally they’ll publish an unreadable Stephen King story), in depth profiles, fresh new voices or literary heft.

Instead, the New Esquire likes to feature cheesecake photos of starlets who tell awful jokes, stories about steak and cigars, lists of restaurants that sound like chains, sports writing about has beens and celebrity profiles. That’s where Raab comes in.

The Raab Way TM is to appear simple while ingratiating himself to the celebrity in his midst. However, Raab has become so adept at what he does the stories practically write themselves. And as always, Raab becomes his own subject. He is the feature!

Here now is The Raabwriter: How to Write a Celebrity Profile like Scott Raab.

1) Mention at the outset that you’re Jewish

2) Mention your girth

3) Liberally sprinkle in some Yiddish in case they missed number 1

4) Hey, do you like Cleveland? I’m from Cleveland

5) Never let the celebrity promote their latest project, instead mention your own book about celebrity interviews. Available at Amazon.

6) Ever hear of Lary Doby?

7) Did I mention I was Jewish?

There you have it, young writer. It’s like sitting at the knee of Rilke and getting urinated on.  Now, have at it.

Doug Fieger, the frontman of late-’70s power pop band The Knack, died Sunday, Feb. 14 at age 57. Happy fucking Valentine’s Day. Fieger had been battling cancer for years and died in his home, reported the L.A. Times.

“We’re really going to miss Doug,” said Boyd Zimmerman, lead singer of The Knick Knacks, a The Knack tribute band. “He really inspired us to, you know, play his songs.  Sometimes for money.”

The Knack is best known for the hit “My Sharona,” which sat in the No. 1 spot for six weeks in 1979 until people realized that it wasn’t disco.

Those liberal fatcats on Wall Street who control the Grammys can give as many bonuses as they want to Beyonce and Lady Caca, but damnit our editors have worked their asses off to give you, dear reader, the most comprehensive best of list of 2009 ever. So where the hell is it? Actually, it is on the page marked “Music.” There is some confusion as to how we lay out this humble (in our opinion, “Greatest ever”) publication. Thing is, brah, we try to contain all music related lists to the page marked “Music.” Dig? Well, dig it for real and read our Best of 2009 list. Hope it works you up reading it as much as it worked us up writing it.

Speaking of Best of Performers, here’s a snappie of our friend, Lloyd Cole, jamming on a banjo. Etouffe took the pic from his Apple device so I can’t vouch for it’s authenticity. This was the 4th time Her Mims and I have seen LaLloyd, and by far his best performance ever. On earth! He and 2 mates switched off on a variety of stringed instruments (no lutes, sadly) and played all the hits. Awesome job, Lloyd-O. One sour note, though. I picked up the set list and waited for Lloyd to autograph it. He asked me where I found it and I said, “on stage.”

“Is it ours?” he asked.

“Well, yeah.”

“Oh, I need it. We don’t have access to a copier and it’s our only copy. Sorry.”

“Cheers.”

In fairness to Lloyd, it was neatly typed and formatted like a spread sheet. Plus, since he performed “Undressed,” I was willing to give him a break. Hopefully, he’ll be coming to a hamlet near you. If he does, don’t steal his set list. You’ve been warned.

Finally, as we urge you again to visit the “Music” page to view our Best of 2009 list, we must announce some already great releases of 2010. Spoon’s new album, “Transference” might be their best since “Girls Can Tell.” Also, don’t pay your heating bill and instead check out new stuff from Vampire Weekend and Midlake.  You’ll be glad you did.

And finally, for real this time, we are sad to report that Franz Nicolay (friend of the show) has left the Hold Steady to pursue a solo career that may involve, among other things, tap dancing and joke telling. Oh, and he has a collection of short stories coming out. So he’s not sweating it. Good luck, Franz.

As always, remember: “Wildcat” was written in a kind of obsolete vernacular.

J.D. Salinger, the legendary author of at least one book that everyone has read, has died. He was 91 if he was a day.

Having had lived for decades in self-imposed isolation in a small, remote house in Cornish, N.H., Salinger decided that he was still too close to humanity to be thoroughly left alone. Salinger died of natural causes at his home on Wednesday to pursue his dream of even greater isolation.

Jerome David Salinger was born Jan. 1, 1919, in New York City. His father was a wealthy importer of cheeses and meat and the family lived for years on Park Avenue badly in need of perfumes and colognes.

Salinger became famous for not wanting to be famous. In 1982, he sued a “man” who allegedly tried to sell a fictitious interview with the author to a “national” magazine. The impostor, who turned out to also be a work of fiction, agreed to desist and Salinger dropped the suit off at the cleaners.

Everyone else is doing their Best of the Aughts (and trying to come up with really clever nicknames for the past 10 years like the Aught No’s or the Naughties), well, we thought we’d post the Worst of the Past 10 years.

The first worst thing is this stupid belief that the decade ended in ‘09. Which is like saying, hey remember your tenth birthday when you turned nine? Moronic, but I’ll buy in. So, here we are then:

The Soul Patrol
Hummers
Terri Schiavo’s Fan Club
Air travel
Yankees/Red Sox
Heckuva job, Brownie
freedom fries
TMZ
Swift Boaters for Truth
Dan Brown
The American Pie Franchise
overuse of the word “franchise”
Piper Palin
the story arc of “Lost”
Enzyte
Lady Caca, er, Gaga
Autism v. Obesity
Literacy
Leno
Heath Ledger’s pharmacist
The Levy’s of New Orleans, Bernie and Barbara
The levees of New Orleans, also
Social networking
Men ordering appletini’s
The Recount
Teabaggers
Terror
Auto-tune Evo Pitch Correcting Plug-in
Bill Engvall
Tyler Perry Presents Racial Stereotypes
more….

Welcome back from the break! Wow, we closed out the decade by taking the philistine show on the road. On ice!!! Which probably means we drank too much. Hey, how about those Aughts? Guess I won’t be retiring this century either. Don’t forget to tip your waitress…over.

Seriously, though. Avatar? Greatest movie ever? Take that to the gut, “Citizen Kane!” James Cameroon, who already has the highest grossing movie and a country named after him, has outdone himself. He’s taken the plots of “Dances with Wolves,” “Dancing with the Stars,” “Ben Hur” and “The Smurfs” and made a stunning visual mish-mash of delight. When the crippled guy becomes Brainy Smurf, you weep, laugh and pee all at the same time.

And for a few more dollars you can see the entire thing in 3D! Believe me you’ll be ducking and dodging enough to throw up your $7 popcorn. (Editor’s note: my popcorn was free because I take my own popcorn popper to the theater! Along with my own gin!)

So run like you just received new legs to a cinemaplex near you so you too can tell everyone you saw the biggest spectacular since “Titanic.” Special bonus points if you can figure out which blue creature is actually actress Helen Mirren. Hint: she’s kind of old.

What do you get when you mix vodka, gin and scotch with vicadin? My Christmas Eve punch! (If serving to ladies, you may want to add grenadine. Wink!)

This comes from Robert Smigel’s short-lived but brilliant “TV Funhouse.” For an Old Testament guy, Smigel sure gets Christmas. Enjoy.