You know, I love the idea that the entire overarching conceit of "River of Brakelights" appears to be Julian Casablancas getting, just, way, way too into spinning the actuality of bonkers NYC traffic into some quasi-poetic, philosophical/omniscient treatise about Darwinian societal ratraces and urban sprawl, to the extent that he unknowingly exasperates whoever's supposed to be squiring him back from whatever party they're trying to escape, and that person just up and bolts while Casablancas is obliviously belting out this rhythmically-exacting observational epic on a Brooklyn (or Williamsburg, maybe) street corner, I guess. And then at the end of the song, Julian's all "Where did you go? You were my ride home!" Sometimes you've just gotta know when to shut up.

ILL UTENSIL TANGENT: WE LOVE SPORKS, AND WE DON'T CARE WHO KNOWS

Please: stop whatever it is you're doing, and download the live Lotus Plaza track you can find after clicking here, which is about 58.98% better than everything else he's done and maybe 20% better than whatever it is you're listening to right now. For real. I mean, just some seriously tender, string-section drrrrrrrrrrrrrone that goes from mournful to autumnal to blissed to avant-limbo.

ILL MIXTAPE: STAYCATION JAMS AHEAD OF SCHEDULE

My staycation doesn’t start for another week and a half or so, but I thought I’d hook you up with a bitchin' commemorative online mixtape full of recent faves, like, right now, because I’m good like that.

ONEIDA “What’s Up, Jackal?”
WYE OAK “That I Do”
CAROLINA LIAR “Show Me What I’m Looking For”
HEARTS OF ANIMALS “Maybe”
GUCCI MANE “Gorgeous”
HALFLINGS “Keep Holding Hands”
WHITNEY HOUSTON “Million Dollar Bill”
WHITE SUNS “Exposable Income”

Hear it here.

And, yeah, this site has been quiet of late - I’ve been dealing with some real world issues. Stay tuned.

ILL BUMPER STICKER: "My Other Hatchback Is A Hyperlaureate/Hypertextural Stallion I Ride"

HT: Cecilia Rivas. Anyone got a link for a site where these are for sale? (Have you ever seen one on a car? If so, where and when?)

ILL REVISIONISM: Jess Harvell Updates Ellis' "American Psycho" for the Aughts

I mean, I could (in keeping with the formatting of this site thus far) Google for appropriate artwork, but why bother? Really, just lick - I mean, click - this link and bear witness to the efforts of a talented scribe who - in my opinion, anyway - has got a wee bit too much free time on his hands. Have a safe weekend, everybody. This is not an exit, etc.

ILL AUDIENCE-PARTICIPATION: "What's Up?"

No, really! What's on your mind? Are you picking up what we're laying down in our not-so-spare time? Or laying down what we're picking up? Let us know - we're not going to be updating Ill With The Composition again for a week or so, and we'd love to hear from you. All of you! Seriously.

ILL RE-BRANDING PANGS: Is It Too Late to Rename This Blog?

This song should be paying rent in my mind, this week; it's got me seriously wondering whether I should re-christen this blog "Ballin' Ain't A Problem." (HT to Nah Right.)

ILL AMERICAN IDOL FOLLIES: Kara DioGuardi Survives to Judge, Annoy for Another Fucking Season of "Idol"

It's possible that someone, somewhere, reading this post really enjoyed Kara DioGuardi's stint as an American Idol judge, earlier this year. You - the royal "you" - felt that she brought a touch of gravatas and sassy spice and music-biz insider heft to a judges' panel consisting of a curmudgeonly (if consistently on-the-money) grump, a vapid, catchphrase-recycling fool, and a pop has-been whose diction is increasingly labored and robotic, at best. Perhaps you were charmed, during the eighth season finale, when she got on stage with Bikini Girl and ripped off her dress. (We were not charmed. Rather, we were chagrined. Perhaps we're just old.) It's possible that you were driven to sympathy as audience shenanigans and between-judges sniping in the press rattled the former aspiring songbird and songwriter. Maybe you said some prayers because you'd heard that Kara wasn't coming back to Idol; more likely, you popped open a bottle of Carlos Santana champagne. Well, she's back, snitches - and, meanwhile, Paula Abdul hasn't re-uped her contract. Which pretty much portends a totally unwatchable American Idol Season Nine, in our (admittedly jaundiced) view.

ILL E-LIST INFLATION: Kevin Federline Is Crazy Huge

Hugely popular, that is! Among TMZ reporters, the delusional, and back-up dancers who aspire to knock up pop princesses. Wait, what did you think we meant?

ILL AUDIENCE-PARTICIPATION: What Song Could Be Your Life?

So, clue us in, folks: what song(s) best describes the state of your life at present?

(Personally, we're in the weeds on this one. Hard to pin things down with just one tune, though we kinda can't get enough of Trey Songz "LOL :)" right now despite the fact that we're neither literally smiling or laughing out loud as we type this.)

The floor – er, the comments section, rather - is yours, dear readers.

*Kudos to my wife, Alecia, for finding the Hasselhoff picture. Dude is bonkers.

ILL COMPOSITION NOTEBOOK DEFACEMENT: PART 3 IN A SERIES ("A Composition Composition")

THOM HAWKINS

ILL COMPOSITION NOTEBOOK DEFACEMENT: PART 2 IN A SERIES

RAYMOND CUMMINGS

ILL COMPOSITION NOTEBOOK DEFACEMENT: PART 1 IN A SERIES

RAYMOND CUMMINGS

ILL REDUNDANCY: Harvey Danger Would Like To Remind You That They Exist To Announce That They're Breaking Up

Really, Harvey Danger? Seriously? You couldn't have just pulled the tried and true "slow fade ever deeper into one-hit wonder obscurity"? No, you couldn't have, because 90 percent of the potential audience for your alt-rock pep isn't even aware that you exist in 2009, let alone that you tour. So you went and wasted your poor publicist's time - girlfriend had to cobble together and fire off an email press release that I can't even believe I bothered to read - not to mention unfathomable nanoseconds and amounts of energy that might have been more profitably spent switching CDs or emailing friends or doing actual work that scores of music writers (and didn't some of you used to be music writers? Thought I read that somewhere) wasted absorbing, deleting, and forgetting said missive. I mean, yeah, I still heart "Flagpole Sitta" as much as, like, anyone. But, c'mon. Everybody already wasn't missing you. Now we're still not missing you, but most of us kinda think you're tools.