Courtney settles; Strokes and Stripes split; plus more.

Gosh, Love really is a many splendored thing! We never thought we'd say this, but a TV date with the Queen of the Damned herself—that would be Courtney—almost brought us over to the dark side. Due to the fact that a long, wet winter is coming (and we are hopelessly, helplessly addicted to The Sopranos), DOON went ahead last weekend and got ourselves digital cable—and damn if we weren't rewarded for our anti-social behavior straight off: 24 hours of Love taking over the reins at MTV2. The Artist Formerly Known as Mrs. Cobain took time out from the Litigation Olympics to play an assortment of great videos—some of which we hadn't seen since their original airdates (A Hsker D, Puffy Ami Yumi, and Samantha Fox sandwich? Yum!); bizarre mutual strokefests between Love and celebrity BFFs like Ryan Adams and Michael Stipe, and some fantastically gossipy, self- absorbed ramblings were but the cherry on top. Maybe Courtney had some spare time because she's finally been freed from one hefty legal obligation: The Nirvana battle is officially over. Yep, Love announced last Friday on Howard Stern that she and Krist Novoselic and Dave Grohl are not only no longer battling over the band's posthumous box set, but that they are actually "getting along." When asked what finally brought an end to the long-running battle, she replied with customary delicacy, "lots and lots and lots of money." Either way, you can hear the much-beleaguered "lost" track "You Know You're Right" at //leet.paradoxi.net/nirvana-you_know_youre_right.mp3 if you've got a computer, but they're saying you'll only have to wait till Christmas for the real deal. . . . Not that we completely hermited out this weekend: DOON found ourselves shopping at Capitol Hill's vintage cubby hole Atlas Sunday alongside a number of shaggy young men with suspiciously excellent haircuts, and finally recognized actor Jason

Schwartzman of Rushmore fame among them. Our companion was far quicker, instantly pegging Schwartzman's shopping posse as his bandmates in the indie-rock boy band Phantom Planet, who were in town to open for Elvis Costello. Alas, we missed the show, but were rewarded by the crazy action down at Graceland, where guitarist Jay had a reported technical difficulty tantrum during Pretty Girls Make Graves' final song, and threw his guitar into the drum set. Who says rock is dead? . . . Apparently, the Brits do. They gave the much-esteemed Mercury Prize to dark horse Ms. Dynamite. What's that giant sucking sound? Hmmm—most likely the collective black hole of total nonrecognition. In case you're wondering, she's a garage/ house/hip-hop MC. Yep. . . . Speaking of strange noises, how about the collective orgasmic howl emitting from overexcited music journalists everywhere, upon receiving the news of a possible Strokes/White Stripes joint single? Good god. According to Jack White, both bands have discussed splitting a 45, and they all agree it would be "cool." . . . Now, for the requisite odd-couples section of DOON, please pick your favorite: Is it (a) Chris Cornell and Rage Against the Machine, together again, but this time under the very Trent Reznor-ish name Audioslave? Or (b) Chrissie Hynde and Russell Crowe? No, they're not getting sexy, silly—at least not yet—but they will be sharing a tour bus. The Pretenders have a new record due out on Artemis Nov. 12, and when they hit the road to support it, they'll be accompanied by labelmate Russell's band 30 Odd Foot of Grunts. Says Chrissie, "I heard their record the other day and I said, 'That's fucking great! Let's take them on tour.'" And her band's own record? Chock full of reggae, she promises. No joke. . . . Here's one artist we can really get behind. Everybody's favorite cranky

canine puppet, Triumph the Insult Comic Dog, is dropping his own album, Songs in the Key of Poop, sometime this winter. According to the New York Post, song titles include "Benji's Queer" and the track "Doggie Style," with the lyrics "Lady left Tramp for a taste of my G/I got the Westminster poodles lining up for me/Lassie even gave me her IUD/As a keepsake, I got Toto's brassiere/ I humped Mary Hart's leg on the ET set/ I got Phil Jackson's crotch on the Lakers team jet." Love it. . . . The battle between the newly major-labeled Hives and their smallish hometown label Burning Heart has taken another turn. Where we once reported that the BH's supposed three-album contract with the band would prevent them from releasing a follow-up to Veni Vidi Vicious on Universal, it now turns out that the Swedish rock tarts either (a) believe in their own version of the disputed contract, (b) have blind faith that somehow things will be worked out, or (c) don't give a shit now that they're getting played on MTV and have a multinational conglomerate behind them, because guitarist Nicholaus Arson publicly claimed Burning Heart had no rights to a third album and that the matter will be resolved to the band's own satisfaction soon enough. . . . We hear Stone Roses guitarist John Squires recently claimed the band just might re-form to add some tracks to a greatest hits album and possibly even tour. We'll believe that when we see it. . . . If you feel like getting the heck out of Dodge this weekend—and you're looking for a gay old time—take the short trip for Homo a Gogo, a music and film festival running Sept. 26-29 in ever-open-minded Olympia. Even folks straighter than a Lady Schick razor still can enjoy excellent acts like the Gossip, Mirah, Tracy + the Plastics, Sarah Dougher, and Fagatron, but homo-ness sure won't hurt.

Send news flashes, sightings, and bitchy bits to nights@seattleweekly.com.

 
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