For those women who would like to wake up in the morning with a smile on their faces, then look no further than the Little Rooster the world’s first alarm clock specifically designed to wake you up with slowly increasing pleasure.

The Little Rooster (“The raciest alarm clock in the world”—Glamour Magazine) gets you up by getting you off. According to the website, all you have to do to guarantee a pleasurable start to the day is:

Slip Little Rooster into the front of your panties with its leg nestling between your thighs.

Within seconds you forget it is there. 

Toss and turn - it stays in place. 

No part of Little Rooster is worn internally. 

What makes Little Rooster really special is that delicious semi-conscious state when you are not yet quite awake.

Other alarms tear those precious moments from you.  Little Rooster not only lets you savour them, it makes them even dreamier.

One of these panty-alarm clocks will cost you $64, which includes the following options for using the device:

Snooze: the classic lie-in.

Snorgasm: Little Rooster‘s power falls to a very low level so you fall in and out of “happy” slumber. Then the power slowly increases, waking you as sensually as before.

Travel lock. New Little Rooster vibrates in your panties, not in your purse.

Fully personalisable.  Adjust how gently the sensations start, how quickly they increase, how intensely they peak, the snorgasm level.

Rechargeable.  And built with green PWM technology.

Perfect for couples: you’ll both wake up smiling.

Play. For when it is time to take control.

Sabotage Times have an interview with Little Rooster designer Tony Maggs, who explains that he spent two years working on the alarm clock, during which time he made over 300 prototypes. Dina Murphy who interviewed Maggs also tested out the Little Rooster and you can read her article here.

If this tickles your fancy, then check out the Little Rooster site.
 

 
Via Sabotage Times

 
It’s been a good month for KISS. Earlier this week it was announced that they were nominated for consideration to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, along with 15 other acts, including Nirvana, Linda Ronstadt, Peter Gabriel, Yes, Link Wray, and the Zombies.

Later this week KISS will commence a quick tour of Japan, with one gig in Osaka and three shows in Tokyo, two of them at the legendary Budokan. To celebrate their arrival, the Circle K Sunkus convenience stores yesterday began selling its promotional line of KISS Super-Spicy Chili Tomatoman meat buns.
 

 
As the report from RocketNews24 describes the experience of eating this delicacy:

Mr. Sato purchased the lone dumpling for 100 yen (US$1), and dashed back to the office. When he peeled back the wrapping he was in awe of the stylish Kiss logo branded on the top of the bun. ...

When he broke the black bun in two a glowing red tomato paste could be seen inside. It was so red Mr. Sato’s eyes stung a little. It certainly looked hot, but how does it taste? The display case had said that it contained the habanero chili pepper which once held the Guinness World Record for hottest chili.

After biting into it, tears began to roll down Mr. Sato’s face which he wiped off with his Destroyer T-shirt. It was every bit as hot as the lava like substance it looked like. Probably it was too hot, but anything less just wouldn’t be rock and roll so he accepted the spicy intensity with pleasure.

As an added bonus, the wrapper had the Peter Criss/Eric Singer Catman logo printed on it. There are five wrappers to collect; one for each member and one with all of them and the Kiss logo. Mr. Sato was hoping for a Gene Simmons Demon wrapper but it would have to wait for next time.

 
The eight-year-old me would have done just about anything for one of these wrappers, I tell you.
 

 
Here’s KISS performing “Cold Gin” in Cobo Hall, Detroit, in 1975:

Previously on Dangerous Minds:
1982 news special on Satan-worshiping rockers Kiss
Wonder Woman vs. Kiss

 
Dangerous Minds, meets PENGUINSRISING, a British trio who make psychedelic, punk-tinged electronica/rock that feels like the missing link between the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and the Sneaker Pimps-era of 90s trip-hop. The group have just released their debut single through the “world-tronica” label Generation Bass, with a video featuring some familiar faces from British film and TV.

And yes, amidst all that genre-based word soup you’ve just waded through, I made up the phrase “world-tronica” as a catch-all for global dance genres represented by Generation Bass, genres like Moombahton and Zouk Bass. While making up fake genres is one of my favorite passtimes, both of those are real, I swear I didn’t make them up, and are definitely worth checking out if forward-thinking dance grooves float your boat.

PENGUINSRISING are a very different kettle of fish—or maybe that should be flock of birds—although still roughly falling somewhere in the “rock music” domain, their sound brings together some disparate influences not usually associated with rock. It very much stands out for being from anything Generation Bass has put out before (while, on new single “HateMale” at least, retaining the non-Western musical elements that set the label apart.)

50 years after the dawn of the psychedelic era, sitars and tablas may seem a bit passé, but in these hands they are pleasingly funky, nicely weaving in and out of the almost housey rhythm, while front woman Sshh’s awesome voice swings from Karen O rasp one minute to Kelli Ali croon the next.

Not that anything less than briliance would have been expected from PENGUINSRISING; the trio also counts among its members sometimes-Stereophonics drummer Javier Wayler, and Zak Starkey on guitar. The name Zak Starkey seem familiar? It might be, seeing as he’s drummed for both Oasis and The Who in the past, and counts a certain Mr Ringo Starr as his dad. So, you see, the connection to top-quality, boundary pushing pop for these guys isn’t just an idea or an aspiration, it’s literally in their blood:
 

 
You can find out more about PENGUINSRISING on their website, and you can download “HateMale” right here:
 

 
“On what would have been Nico’s 75th birthday, we revisit that 1972 Velvet Underground “reunion” with Lou Reed and John Cale” - MOJO

France’s highest court on Wednesday upheld several convictions for “organized fraud” against the Church of Scientology - The Local

The Weirdest Things Recently Found on Mars - Wired

Artist draws nine portraits on LSD during 1950s research experiment - Open Culture

Why did YouTube pull Anonymous’s warning to Maryville? - The Daily Dot

Russian men beat up Dutch diplomat in his apartment, scrawl heart and “LGBT” in lipstick - BuzzFeed

Kenya to microchip all rhinos’ horns to beat poachers - Phys.org

74-year-old NYC woman to her rapist: ‘Rot in hell’ - AP

Cockroach farms multiplying in China - LA Times

Scientists have discovered the best-preserved nervous system in an ancient fossil - BBC News

Kim Deal ‘welcome to rejoin Pixies’ says drummer Dave Lovering - NME

Couple aged 92 and 88, married 68 years, die holding hands after car accident - KTVB

Every Day Counts: Yoko Ono Interviewed - The Quietus

Pregnant women have been urged to avoid food and drinks heated up in plastic containers after a study found certain chemicals can increase the risk of miscarriage by 80 per cent - The Telegraph

Only 8.01% of money spent on pink NFL merchandise is actually going towards cancer research - Business Insider

Accused Silk Road boss just hired a high-profile national security lawyer - The Verge

Bats use ear trumpets for social calls - Nature

Los Angeles County Sheriff’s sued for $50 million for killing 80-year-old man in “meth raid” that found no meth - Boing Boing

Activist rescues sheep from Brooklyn butcher, but it’s the wrong sheep - Gothamist

Below, Nico performs “Genghis Khan” in 1979:

 
Big Mouth’s autobiography is published tomorrow by (can you believe it?) Penguin Classics. This even before a word of it has been read or considered worthy of inclusion amongst such writers as Aristotle, Virgil, Plutarch, Jane Austen, Christopher Marlowe, Charles Dickens, etc, etc. Admittedly Penguin Classics also include Philip K. Dick, Kurt Vonnegut, Carson McCullers and Ross McDonald—but at least these authors had already been published, and earned their place to be included in the list by being “read by generation after generation.” I wonder if Morrissey’s Autobiography will be read by anyone ten years from now, let alone a hundred?

The Guardian newspaper recently asked readers to send in their alternative designs for the cover to Morrissey’s Autobiography, here are a selection of their favorites. View more here.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 
Via The Guardian.

 
Recently, when I posted about the Public Image Ltd.-related rarity, Steel Leg Vs. The Electric Dread, DM reader “Mr. Clam” left the following comment:

While Richard is right when he said First Issue was “thee line of demarcation between punk rock and post punk music”, the reality was that post-punk was inevitable. Indeed, it may have paradoxically predated punk itself (see Pere Ubu). Also, Joy Division/Warsaw was already heading into post-punk territory.

That’s a pretty interesting point. Pere Ubu’s Ohio mutant compatriots DEVO also come readily to mind in that way, and so do Suicide. The band that I feel illustrates his theory best though, are Tuxedomoon. When Tuxedomoon formed in San Francisco, punk was at its 1977 height in London and in New York, but the Sex Pistols were still copping Chuck Berry riffs while the Ramones were aping surf rock and Phil Spector. The evil-sounding avant gardists of Tuxedomoon were in many ways closer to prog rock than to punk, stylistically speaking, if not in attitude. Certainly they were “postpunk” before the era began or the term was ever coined. Check out this early video recording of Tuxedomoon produced when they were doing a week-long “artists residency” at The University of Colorado in 1977 and see if you don’t agree.

The numbers performed here are “Litebulb Overkill,” “New Machine,” “Lili Marlene,” “Pollo X,” “Cybernetic Cowboy” and “Joeboy The Electronic Ghost.” This is included in the truly astonishing 35th anniversary Tuxedomoon box set 77o7 Tm that was released in 2008.

Superior Viaduct is reissuing Tuxedomoon’s early EPs on vinyl this fall.
 

 
Previously on Dangerous Minds:
PiL rarity ‘Steel Leg Vs. The Electric Dread’ is the missing link between ‘First Issue’ & ‘Metal Box’

 
Today’s announcement of Link Wray’s induction nomination into the 2014 Rock and Roll Hall of Fame seems like a good time to share this terrific live performance by Wray shot at Winterland in 1974. With a guest appearance by John Cippolina of Quicksilver Messenger Service.

It’s a shame Link Wray isn’t alive to enjoy the recognition he so justly deserves. Wray gave birth to a style and sound—ominous riffs played through an overdriven amp with holes punched into the speakers—that influenced everything from Keith Richard’s “Satisfaction” riff to The Ramones, The Cramps, Jimmy Page and beyond. 
 

 
Part two after the jump…

 
I’m a big fan of HBO’s Game of Thrones. So when I watched this recut trailer depicting Game of Thrones as a Medieval theme park comedy, I almost peed myself a little. Especially at Peter Dinklage’s character “Terry.” Oh my dear god, this is good stuff.

“Ooh girl, you taste real good.”

Brilliant!

 
Nerdcore

 
Sting Of Death is a Z-grade monster flick directed by Florida schlockmeister William Grefe. It’s good campy fun for fans of such things (of which I am one) and features a never was dance-craze dance called “The Jellyfish” sung by Neil Sedaka to a ska-like beat.

Monkey, don’t be a donkey.
It’s nothing like the Monkey.
It’s isn’t funky or anything that’s junky.
It’s something swella!”
The jilla-jalla-jellyfish!”

Turn it up and dance the Jellyfish!
 

Sick burn, New Yorker!

Recently, British guerrilla artist Banksy has taken up “residency” in New York, meaning his stencils randomly pop up, only to be immediately tagged over by local graffiti artists. And then there’s been a few performance pieces he pulled, like selling his work to unwitting buyers from a streetside stall for $60 (had serious art buyers been in the know, the pieces would have gone for about $31,000). But you know what’s kind of awesome about New York? We really don’t give a shit. Sure, there’s perpetual 24/7 Banksy media coverage, but the average Joe probably gives a Banksy stencil the same attention as he would a bodega mural mourning the death of a local drug dealer.

I’ll admit, it’s almost always nice to see public art. Whether it’s your taste or not, it’s usually better than an empty lot or a crumbling wall. But it seems like the city’s sentiment was summed up nicely in The New Yorker cartoon. There’s something extra stinging about a flippant dismiss from a New Yorker. It’s like having your white grandma inform you that your twerking is sub-par, or being told by a local beat policeman that your Captain Beefheart collection consists of only his “Tragic Band” material.

Take the latest Banksy performance piece, wherein a meat truck of stuffed animals is animated to, I don’t know, show the horrors of factory farming? There’s a presumptuousness to that piece—“Hey, did you know that factory farming is really inhumane?!?” “Why no I didn’t! At least not until I saw that really earnest and heavy-handed social commentary rolling down 8th Avenue!” Plus, I saw a drag queen do something similar (but better) two years ago.

And that shit had glitter.

When so much of your hype stems from your anonymity,  it makes perfect sense that New Yorkers would be largely unimpressed. It’s a city full of anonymous people, so that whole supposedly edgy anonymity novelty just doesn’t move us. You don’t want to be seen? Awesome, ‘cos we don’t have the time to look. There’s dog shit on the sidewalk and bike messengers and taxis to dodge. There’s so, so, so much going on. Why would we pursue a coy “anonymous celebrity,” when we have tons of artists in the minor leagues, desperate to get their real names out there? It was tourists who bought those Banksy originals in Central Park, and I have to wonder, if Banksy revealed his identity, would his fans (and the media) continue to be so enthusiastic about his work?

Perhaps we Banksy-shruggers just don’t “get it”—I never claimed to be cultured. But I really do think that his brand of “spectacle” simply doesn’t translate very well to our fair city. Below, you can see his venture into short film, wherein Syrian rebels shoot down Dumbo the elephant with a rocket launcher, shrieking “Allahu Akbar!”. It’s ironic, it’s political, it’s vague, it’s Banksy. It’s a another brand in a heavily branded city, and we have shit to do.