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The visual metaphor isn’t lost on me; The National are a group of disheveled, middle-aged rockers that look like they could be from any state in the U.S. A major portion of the breaks between sets on September 5th were filled by my friends’ argument on where the National were from. The answers brought back repressed memories of Ms. South Carolina: England was among the first guesses.

Since then, Wikipedia has dutifully supplied an answer and left this poor writer with little more to dwell on other than the overall brilliance of the set of the Ohio/Brooklyn alternative band.

Pharoahe Monch isn’t new to the rap scene, but he might as well be. Monch took a Dr. Dre-esque 8 year break between his first and second albums, with guest spots, mixtapes, and a few record label jumps taking up a good chunk of time. The extra time sure helped. Pharoahe’s latest, the appropriately titled Desire, takes sage rhymes, excellent beats, and a healthy dollop of R&B/soul to make one of the tastiest confections of the year, and one that will surely hold off his fans for another 8 years.