The Planet Pluto's first video web-log! Or, vlog for short. Now, that's an alien term if I ever heard one.
It's a tad lengthy, hope you can stay with me for highlights such as earth observations on Michael Jackson, Sarah Palin and Independence Day. Also, there's some comments on the fine dining of this planet, an imitation of Bob Dylan, a new version of Talking Heads' "Psycho Killer", some sign reading and a misquote of Bill Callahan. Oh, you enjoy now!
Trivia: What band shirt am I wearing? What is the mask from at the beginning? What all songs play in the background? And, create your own trivia.
Also, my friend Emily commented that she hopes there are penguin blankets on Pluto since it is freezing. That's a good one, for an earthling.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
April Concerts, and this is June.
Let's talk about concerts. I like them. Hell, they may be one of the only good things I've got going for me on this stupid, stupid planet. That, and of course my blogging. Both of which are costly; concerts cost cash, blogs cost friends.
Well, I never did divulge the details of seeing Flight of the Conchords in Kent, Ohio on April 19th. There aren't many, of course. And considering this was over two months ago, the details are fuzzy. After Kristen Schaal, a regular on the HBO series, opened the set with such antics as depicting the life of a mattress while in a mattress costume. Also, there were key deadpan jokes such as: "If you sent a werewolf to the moon, would it be a werewolf forever?" Overall, her routine was a raunchier reflection of her character on the show, and a fine introduction. It also served to remind the audience that although Flight of the Conchords employ various instruments, mostly acoustic, this is a comedy act, after all. They are not professional musicians by any means. Either way, flubs and missteps aside, it succeeded as a highly entertaining 90-minute set. Bret and Jemaine opened the set with their best Daft Punk impersonation in robot costumes, tampering with electronics and rapping their club track, "Too Many Dicks on the Dancefloor". Then, they discarded the suits and club hits for plain clothed hysterics. There were some altered lyrics like those in "Hurt Feelings" including: "Some people say we're not incredible / We're credible," and after rapping about friends giving the 'out of town' excuse, they find, "All my friends were in town seeing He's Just Not That into You."
As expected from their live shows, there was a plethora of banter and audience heckling. Most of which was comical as they mocked the audience for their unenthusiastic heckles and persistent whistling. They even extended the ridicule to reprimanding one heckler for interrupting another. In an effort to boost their image as heartthrobs, Bret pulled an audience member towards the stage during "Sugalumps" to give the impression that she was rushing the stage. It was a show that left us laughing even as we emerged from the building into the rain outside, where I commented, "look at those savages walking through the wet grass to avoid the crowds on the cement." And, of course, if there's one way to clear a room after the Flight of the Conchords show, it is to play the Ting Tings loudly. Here's the full setlist:
1. Too Many Dicks
2. Most Beautiful Girl
3. Hurt Feelings
4. Stana
5. Carol Brown
6. Jenny
7. I Told You I was Freekie
8. I'm Not Crying
9. Mutha'uckas
10. A Kiss Is Not a Contract
11. Bus Driver's Song
12. Robots
13. Albi, the Racist Dragon
14. We're Both in Love with a Sexy Lady/Sugar Lumps
Encore: Demon Woman, Hiphopopotamus vs. Rhymenoceros, Bowie
And, here's new song, "Stana":
Also, I revisited this clip from the show featuring a FOTC song that was included in my summer mix, and it's still a hoot:
Then, there is The Pains of Being Pure at Heart's April 30th show at Beachland Tavern in Cleveland, Ohio. Some observations based on twitter posts:
The girls up front for opening act, Afternoon Naps, reminded me of Jonathan Richman's song "I Was Dancing at the Lesbian Bar". At one point, the girl on synths pulled the strings on her PeeWee Herman doll to make him talk. The keyboardist responded, "Can I get less PeeWee in my monitor?"
ZAZA, the second act, were a promising act utilizing samples and layers of dense guitar melodies. Surely, they are set to open for Deerhunter soon. A surprising highlight of the night.
For shoegazers, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart sure looked up an awful lot, and played a brief, non-hearing impairing set. My Bloody Valentine would be shamed. And, the rest of us left disappointed. Only a little, though, as they are a young band that just released a terrific debut.
Here's my video of "Come Saturday":
Well, I never did divulge the details of seeing Flight of the Conchords in Kent, Ohio on April 19th. There aren't many, of course. And considering this was over two months ago, the details are fuzzy. After Kristen Schaal, a regular on the HBO series, opened the set with such antics as depicting the life of a mattress while in a mattress costume. Also, there were key deadpan jokes such as: "If you sent a werewolf to the moon, would it be a werewolf forever?" Overall, her routine was a raunchier reflection of her character on the show, and a fine introduction. It also served to remind the audience that although Flight of the Conchords employ various instruments, mostly acoustic, this is a comedy act, after all. They are not professional musicians by any means. Either way, flubs and missteps aside, it succeeded as a highly entertaining 90-minute set. Bret and Jemaine opened the set with their best Daft Punk impersonation in robot costumes, tampering with electronics and rapping their club track, "Too Many Dicks on the Dancefloor". Then, they discarded the suits and club hits for plain clothed hysterics. There were some altered lyrics like those in "Hurt Feelings" including: "Some people say we're not incredible / We're credible," and after rapping about friends giving the 'out of town' excuse, they find, "All my friends were in town seeing He's Just Not That into You."
As expected from their live shows, there was a plethora of banter and audience heckling. Most of which was comical as they mocked the audience for their unenthusiastic heckles and persistent whistling. They even extended the ridicule to reprimanding one heckler for interrupting another. In an effort to boost their image as heartthrobs, Bret pulled an audience member towards the stage during "Sugalumps" to give the impression that she was rushing the stage. It was a show that left us laughing even as we emerged from the building into the rain outside, where I commented, "look at those savages walking through the wet grass to avoid the crowds on the cement." And, of course, if there's one way to clear a room after the Flight of the Conchords show, it is to play the Ting Tings loudly. Here's the full setlist:
1. Too Many Dicks
2. Most Beautiful Girl
3. Hurt Feelings
4. Stana
5. Carol Brown
6. Jenny
7. I Told You I was Freekie
8. I'm Not Crying
9. Mutha'uckas
10. A Kiss Is Not a Contract
11. Bus Driver's Song
12. Robots
13. Albi, the Racist Dragon
14. We're Both in Love with a Sexy Lady/Sugar Lumps
Encore: Demon Woman, Hiphopopotamus vs. Rhymenoceros, Bowie
And, here's new song, "Stana":
Also, I revisited this clip from the show featuring a FOTC song that was included in my summer mix, and it's still a hoot:
Then, there is The Pains of Being Pure at Heart's April 30th show at Beachland Tavern in Cleveland, Ohio. Some observations based on twitter posts:
The girls up front for opening act, Afternoon Naps, reminded me of Jonathan Richman's song "I Was Dancing at the Lesbian Bar". At one point, the girl on synths pulled the strings on her PeeWee Herman doll to make him talk. The keyboardist responded, "Can I get less PeeWee in my monitor?"
ZAZA, the second act, were a promising act utilizing samples and layers of dense guitar melodies. Surely, they are set to open for Deerhunter soon. A surprising highlight of the night.
For shoegazers, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart sure looked up an awful lot, and played a brief, non-hearing impairing set. My Bloody Valentine would be shamed. And, the rest of us left disappointed. Only a little, though, as they are a young band that just released a terrific debut.
Here's my video of "Come Saturday":
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Summer Mix & Midyear Music Lisztomania Fix.
Like last year, I'd like to give you a look into what the future holds. Though, also like last year, there's bound to be some disruption in the listing when the year ends. Until then, this is the halfway checkpoint. This is me taking a moment from my non-writing schedule to provide you with a black&white look at my favorites as-of-late. They will change, sure, but it's something. The other unique phenomena to this year is that I've been contemplating my favorite albums of the decade to the extent that I'm seeking out overlooked albums. Then, listening to them as if they were just released.
So, here's a quick early prediction at 2009's finest albums so-far:
1) Animal Collective- Merriweather Post Pavilion
2) Grizzly Bear- Veckatimest
3) Dirty Projectors- Bitte Orca
4) Phoenix- Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix
5) DOOM- Born Like This
6) St. Vincent- Actor
7) Antony and the Johnsons- The Crying Light
8) Bill Callahan- Sometimes I Wish We Were an Eagle
9) Blackout Beach- Skin of Evil
10) The Antlers- Hospice
11) Tortoise- Beacons of Ancestorship
12) The Pains of Being Pure at Heart- Self-titled
13) Dinosaur Jr.- Farm
14) Super Furry Animals- Dark Days/Light Years
15) Sunset Rubdown- Dragonslayer
16) Bat for Lashes- Two Suns
17) Fever Ray- Self-titled
18) Emeralds- What Happened
19) William Basinski- 92982
20) Casiotone for the Painfully Alone- Vs. Children
Some albums that require more thinking, but could be in the running:
Yeah Yeah Yeahs- It's Blitz, Woods- Songs of Shame, White Denim- Fits, Tim Hecker- An Imaginary Country, Sonic Youth- The Eternal, Neko Case- Middle Cyclone, Dark Was the Night compilation, Mountains- Choral, Mos Def- The Ecstatic, Micachu- Jewellery, Lotus Plaza- The Floodlight Collective, Jason Lytle- Yours Truly, the Commuter, Here We Go Magic- ST, Handsome Furs- Face Control, Condo Fucks- Fuckbook, Circulatory System- Signal Morning, Bonnie 'Prince' Billy- Beware, Bob Dylan- Together Through Life, Sunn O)))- Monoliths & Dimensions, The Field- Yesterday and Today, Future of the Left- Travels With Myself and Another, Japandroids- Post-Nothing, etc.
It's summer, and it's time to forget your folk ditties, unless you're Grizzly Bear. This year is all about the energy, and the ambient after-party.
I’ve always been an album-minded man, but I can succumb to the sweet sounds of singles. Lately, however, there has been a surplus of danceable tracks begging for return visits. So, I've arranged two discs worth of music. The songs will be posted individually in the order I'd have them if you'd like to arrange them as a summer dance mix. After much tampering, the first mix is roughly twelve minutes longer. Don't mind the lopsidedness. Listen for the Planet Pluto shoutout at the beginning of Tanya Morgan's "On Our Way".
Love ‘em, then leave ‘em when you can no longer stand to repeat ‘em:
Dance Mix 2009, Pt. 1:
jj- "my life, my swag"
Air France- "GBG Belongs to Us"
The Tough Alliance- "Hung Up on a Dream" (Zombies Cover)
Toro Y Moi- "Blessa"
Basement Jaxx- "Raindrops"
Micachu- "Calculator"
YACHT- "Psycho City (Voodoo City)"
Super Furry Animals- "Inaugural Trams"
White Denim- "I Start to Run"
Dirty Projectors- "Stillness Is the Move"
Phoenix- "Lisztomania (Classixx Version)"
Animal Collective- "Daily Routine (Phaseone Remix)"
Grizzly Bear- "Two Weeks (Fred Falke Mix)"
DJ Kaos- "Love the Night Away (Tiedye Mix)"
Dance Mix 2009, Pt. 2:
Tanya Morgan- "On Our Way"
Clipse- "Kinda Like a Big Deal (ft. Kanye West)"
Jay-Z- "D.O.A. (Death of Auto-Tune)"
Mos Def- "Auditorium (ft. Slick Rick)"
The Streets- "He's Behind You, He's Got Swine Flu"
Flight of the Conchords- "Hurt Feelings"
DOOM- "Gazzillion Ear (Thom Yorke Remix)"
La Roux- "In for the Kill (Skream's Let's Get Ravey Remix)"
The Big Pink- "Velvet (Gang Gang Dance Mix)"
Tortoise- "Prepare Your Coffin"
The Field- "The More That I Do"
Outtakes: something from the Fever Ray and Incredibad albums, Passion Pit- “Sleepyhead”, Junior Boys- “Hazel”, Burial & Four Tet- Moth/Wolf Cub 12”, Flight of the Conchords- “Too Many Dicks on the Dancefloor” (unreleased so far), etc.
And, to convince you that this stuff is danceable, here's a lo-fi clip of me doing some 'Daily Routine' dancing to the remix:
So, here's a quick early prediction at 2009's finest albums so-far:
1) Animal Collective- Merriweather Post Pavilion
2) Grizzly Bear- Veckatimest
3) Dirty Projectors- Bitte Orca
4) Phoenix- Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix
5) DOOM- Born Like This
6) St. Vincent- Actor
7) Antony and the Johnsons- The Crying Light
8) Bill Callahan- Sometimes I Wish We Were an Eagle
9) Blackout Beach- Skin of Evil
10) The Antlers- Hospice
11) Tortoise- Beacons of Ancestorship
12) The Pains of Being Pure at Heart- Self-titled
13) Dinosaur Jr.- Farm
14) Super Furry Animals- Dark Days/Light Years
15) Sunset Rubdown- Dragonslayer
16) Bat for Lashes- Two Suns
17) Fever Ray- Self-titled
18) Emeralds- What Happened
19) William Basinski- 92982
20) Casiotone for the Painfully Alone- Vs. Children
Some albums that require more thinking, but could be in the running:
Yeah Yeah Yeahs- It's Blitz, Woods- Songs of Shame, White Denim- Fits, Tim Hecker- An Imaginary Country, Sonic Youth- The Eternal, Neko Case- Middle Cyclone, Dark Was the Night compilation, Mountains- Choral, Mos Def- The Ecstatic, Micachu- Jewellery, Lotus Plaza- The Floodlight Collective, Jason Lytle- Yours Truly, the Commuter, Here We Go Magic- ST, Handsome Furs- Face Control, Condo Fucks- Fuckbook, Circulatory System- Signal Morning, Bonnie 'Prince' Billy- Beware, Bob Dylan- Together Through Life, Sunn O)))- Monoliths & Dimensions, The Field- Yesterday and Today, Future of the Left- Travels With Myself and Another, Japandroids- Post-Nothing, etc.
It's summer, and it's time to forget your folk ditties, unless you're Grizzly Bear. This year is all about the energy, and the ambient after-party.
I’ve always been an album-minded man, but I can succumb to the sweet sounds of singles. Lately, however, there has been a surplus of danceable tracks begging for return visits. So, I've arranged two discs worth of music. The songs will be posted individually in the order I'd have them if you'd like to arrange them as a summer dance mix. After much tampering, the first mix is roughly twelve minutes longer. Don't mind the lopsidedness. Listen for the Planet Pluto shoutout at the beginning of Tanya Morgan's "On Our Way".
Love ‘em, then leave ‘em when you can no longer stand to repeat ‘em:
Dance Mix 2009, Pt. 1:
jj- "my life, my swag"
Air France- "GBG Belongs to Us"
The Tough Alliance- "Hung Up on a Dream" (Zombies Cover)
Toro Y Moi- "Blessa"
Basement Jaxx- "Raindrops"
Micachu- "Calculator"
YACHT- "Psycho City (Voodoo City)"
Super Furry Animals- "Inaugural Trams"
White Denim- "I Start to Run"
Dirty Projectors- "Stillness Is the Move"
Phoenix- "Lisztomania (Classixx Version)"
Animal Collective- "Daily Routine (Phaseone Remix)"
Grizzly Bear- "Two Weeks (Fred Falke Mix)"
DJ Kaos- "Love the Night Away (Tiedye Mix)"
Dance Mix 2009, Pt. 2:
Tanya Morgan- "On Our Way"
Clipse- "Kinda Like a Big Deal (ft. Kanye West)"
Jay-Z- "D.O.A. (Death of Auto-Tune)"
Mos Def- "Auditorium (ft. Slick Rick)"
The Streets- "He's Behind You, He's Got Swine Flu"
Flight of the Conchords- "Hurt Feelings"
DOOM- "Gazzillion Ear (Thom Yorke Remix)"
La Roux- "In for the Kill (Skream's Let's Get Ravey Remix)"
The Big Pink- "Velvet (Gang Gang Dance Mix)"
Tortoise- "Prepare Your Coffin"
The Field- "The More That I Do"
Outtakes: something from the Fever Ray and Incredibad albums, Passion Pit- “Sleepyhead”, Junior Boys- “Hazel”, Burial & Four Tet- Moth/Wolf Cub 12”, Flight of the Conchords- “Too Many Dicks on the Dancefloor” (unreleased so far), etc.
And, to convince you that this stuff is danceable, here's a lo-fi clip of me doing some 'Daily Routine' dancing to the remix:
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
A Birthday Rap and a Cheap Tweet Recap.
It's been a-whole-fuckin'-month since I last blogged, and here's some of what you've been missing:
A recent birthday rap with all the meat & cheese, whatever that means:
"yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yoy yoyoyoy yoyyo. this is a tune for deframe, spittin' it fast while i'm still at the top of my game, another birthday retread where you're re-fed the same chocolate cake with the minimal icing to your liking, this is a birthday jam from a fan of your band, you know, the one with just you and one mic, total effulgence, that means the state of sheer brillance, and i'm sure the rest of your constituents would agree with my birthday wishing persistence, the listing of such silly hip-hop pandering, the territorial pissing on june eighteenth, that's twenty-five for you who grinds your teeth about being a geezer on the hard Defiance streets, living with the feeling of slowly enveloping your surroundings, merging with the aging universal dating between the sun, the moon and wherever else you've been, the dirty places you've looked straight through, shot clean like a turtle shell disappearing into pixelating mario kart racing, the 64 version, nothing more pure than."
2nd facebook post:
"...and now that you're aging like the original playstation, there's no goin' back. there's no goin' back. might as well accept that. and put in another 2 minute mile, flat. that's another race, game, match. 25, and a few more shots of whiskey down the hatch. now what you got to say to that?"
I really do have a lot of blogging planned. I don't know what I've been doing. Oh, yeah, well, first, I was watching Cleveland Cavaliers lose the playoffs. And, of course, I was listening to a lot of music.
Here are some tweets to prove it:
Spencer Krug, I cant get into the new Sunset Rubdown just yet. Its all recycled lyrics, ideas and even a Swan Lake rehash sans Carey Mercer.
1:22 PM May 21st from txt
I finally listened to MGMT's album recently and realized why I ignored it initially. This year's MGMT is Passion Pit- only slightly better.
6:23 PM May 21st from txt
Cleveland, you are the only hope to convince Sufjan Stevens to record an Ohio album, and you're not being very convincing.
11:31 PM May 22nd from txt
Sorry, but I just don't get the major appeal of this Dan Deacon stuff. I feel hoodwinked or snookered or whatever by the indie gods.
10:17 AM May 23rd from txt
I am the Lebron James of short poetry and long essay assignments; always coming through in the final seconds.
11:32 AM May 23rd from txt
Save for the single, this new Jarvis Cocker is a pretty fine record. What's with old rockers and lackluster singles?
12:53 PM May 25th from txt
Too cold for the Cleveland Zoo, so I'm listening to my Animal Crack Box vinyl; each of the six sides has an exciting, wild sound to explore.
3:00 PM May 26th from web
I'm listening to Here We Go Magic, but I want the Cavs to win. C'mon already.
9:19 PM May 26th from txt
I must censor myself. For a casual fan, I've been twitting too often about the Cavs. Erm, Tortoise's new album is still killin' it for me.
12:34 AM May 29th from web
Listening to DOOM's Born Like This vinyl. Born like this, into this, double LP for these critics, where 40-minute albums are mini-epics.
10:19 AM May 29th from web
WHY?'s Yoni Wolf announces new album, Eskimo Snow. MY new album is tentatively titled Snowed-In Eskimos & Hoboken Outlaws Gone Ice Fishing.
10:57 AM May 29th from web
You know I already graduated, and you could live through anything if Magic made it- easier on the Cavs to make it to Game 7.
10:24 AM May 30th from txt
Let us hope I'm not cursing the Cavs by inadvertently listening to all these hip-hop hits referencing Magic. Now, it's Jigga's "Blue Magic".
9:28 PM May 30th from web
Then, there's the contemplation of life and its inhabitants:
I think I've met, heard word of, or brushed shoulders with every remotely hip person in the Youngstown area. Time to move on soon, I gather.
12:31 PM May 23rd from txt
@danieljsimpson Salem Police honor Christina Miller, who smashed your mom's rear car windshield with a large rock to free her from the pond.
11:37 AM May 29th from web
Spotted a liscence plate made in Ontario. I hear it's a beautiful place; bet they really know how to live in Ontario. Could they teach me?
12:46 PM May 31st from web
Marriages are when big boys leave their blow toys in the attic. Congrats Graber, old friend, that I've no contact with, and won't see this.
6:56 PM Jun 1st from web
Rite Aid is the home of expired things: Circuit City gift cards and a liter of Coca-Cola. Both expired back in March.
9:17 PM Jun 2nd from txt
Did I just see Heraldo in a car strapped with mountain bikes to the back? What great adventures is he cooking up?
12:29 PM Jun 4th from txt
Critics will say Dinosaur Jr.'s Farm is the cream of the crop. Cynics will say it is a dry season. I dont care either way; I like the cover.
10:56 AM Jun 6th from txt
A friend promised to eat cake every day from now on. I will listen to Cake every day... Fatty food & lame bands. Neither are good for you.
2:51 PM Jun 6th from txt
I'm sick of seeing dishevelled Yankee Doodle dudes in uniform schlock, guns cocked with the left hand, yanking their doodle with the right.
3:48 PM Jun 7th from web
Why, as human beings, are we programmed to perform menial tasks for meager pay? My name is Michael, and I am a PC, indeed.
11:48 AM Jun 10th from txt
The Ecstatic is Mos Def's most worldly ambitious venture since hitchhiking to other galaxies.
12:25 PM Jun 11th from txt
Sellout tweets to trending topics are the lowest sort. I won't resort to lexicon violence. This is death of auto-tweet, moment of silence...
11:54 AM Jun 12th from web
I don't trust anything nuclear- be it bombs or families. Thats why I dont trust the North Korea family by extension of explosive expansion.
3:54 PM Jun 13th from txt
Every kid in the world is crying simultaneously in the Eastwood Mall, Niles, Ohio.
3:55 PM Jun 13th from txt
While everyone else is off shaking their bon-bon in Manchester, Tenacity, I'm here getting my work on, and reading Breakfast of Champions.
12:42 PM Jun 14th from txt
If I perish in an airplane crash into the ocean or any stretch of land within my stretch of imagination, my last words would be a tweet.
12:47 PM Jun 14th from txt
A stark scrub even resulted in shampooing my chest hair. Also, why are my eyes like sunken treasures six foot under in their sockets?
8:59 PM Jun 15th from web
Monday was full of formless silence rolled out on a red carpet, trumpeted as being worth marveling; or, to me, another day without writing.
about 23 hours ago from web
I can't wait until I just go mad, and leave it at that. Much easier than being sane, and dealing with a consistently disappointing humanity.
about 12 hours ago from txt
News ticker says 'Ohio teen who killed over video game gets 23 years.' This is precisely the society I mean. Unless the game was Mario Kart.
about 12 hours ago from txt
Visitor name tag & a duct taped X on their plaid button-up shirt. I wonder which planet this robot is visiting from, and if its nicer there.
about 9 hours ago from txt
And, the self-referencing obscurities:
Did you hear? The new Planet Pluto album title's a mouthful: Every Time I Turn Around You're Drinking Something from the Side of Your Mouth.
6:52 PM Jun 1st from web
So, yes, that's it. I've lately read Bukowski's Slouching Toward Nirvana, Ham on Rye, Where the Wild Things Are, and I'm finishing Vonnegut's Breakfast of Champions soon. I'd still like to talk about concerts, write some poetry, post some mp3s as a mix-of-sorts, and you know- prove that I am, in fact, a writer.
A closing conversation:
"What would life be without decisions?"
"Death."
"What would death be like without incisions?"
A recent birthday rap with all the meat & cheese, whatever that means:
"yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yoy yoyoyoy yoyyo. this is a tune for deframe, spittin' it fast while i'm still at the top of my game, another birthday retread where you're re-fed the same chocolate cake with the minimal icing to your liking, this is a birthday jam from a fan of your band, you know, the one with just you and one mic, total effulgence, that means the state of sheer brillance, and i'm sure the rest of your constituents would agree with my birthday wishing persistence, the listing of such silly hip-hop pandering, the territorial pissing on june eighteenth, that's twenty-five for you who grinds your teeth about being a geezer on the hard Defiance streets, living with the feeling of slowly enveloping your surroundings, merging with the aging universal dating between the sun, the moon and wherever else you've been, the dirty places you've looked straight through, shot clean like a turtle shell disappearing into pixelating mario kart racing, the 64 version, nothing more pure than."
2nd facebook post:
"...and now that you're aging like the original playstation, there's no goin' back. there's no goin' back. might as well accept that. and put in another 2 minute mile, flat. that's another race, game, match. 25, and a few more shots of whiskey down the hatch. now what you got to say to that?"
I really do have a lot of blogging planned. I don't know what I've been doing. Oh, yeah, well, first, I was watching Cleveland Cavaliers lose the playoffs. And, of course, I was listening to a lot of music.
Here are some tweets to prove it:
Spencer Krug, I cant get into the new Sunset Rubdown just yet. Its all recycled lyrics, ideas and even a Swan Lake rehash sans Carey Mercer.
1:22 PM May 21st from txt
I finally listened to MGMT's album recently and realized why I ignored it initially. This year's MGMT is Passion Pit- only slightly better.
6:23 PM May 21st from txt
Cleveland, you are the only hope to convince Sufjan Stevens to record an Ohio album, and you're not being very convincing.
11:31 PM May 22nd from txt
Sorry, but I just don't get the major appeal of this Dan Deacon stuff. I feel hoodwinked or snookered or whatever by the indie gods.
10:17 AM May 23rd from txt
I am the Lebron James of short poetry and long essay assignments; always coming through in the final seconds.
11:32 AM May 23rd from txt
Save for the single, this new Jarvis Cocker is a pretty fine record. What's with old rockers and lackluster singles?
12:53 PM May 25th from txt
Too cold for the Cleveland Zoo, so I'm listening to my Animal Crack Box vinyl; each of the six sides has an exciting, wild sound to explore.
3:00 PM May 26th from web
I'm listening to Here We Go Magic, but I want the Cavs to win. C'mon already.
9:19 PM May 26th from txt
I must censor myself. For a casual fan, I've been twitting too often about the Cavs. Erm, Tortoise's new album is still killin' it for me.
12:34 AM May 29th from web
Listening to DOOM's Born Like This vinyl. Born like this, into this, double LP for these critics, where 40-minute albums are mini-epics.
10:19 AM May 29th from web
WHY?'s Yoni Wolf announces new album, Eskimo Snow. MY new album is tentatively titled Snowed-In Eskimos & Hoboken Outlaws Gone Ice Fishing.
10:57 AM May 29th from web
You know I already graduated, and you could live through anything if Magic made it- easier on the Cavs to make it to Game 7.
10:24 AM May 30th from txt
Let us hope I'm not cursing the Cavs by inadvertently listening to all these hip-hop hits referencing Magic. Now, it's Jigga's "Blue Magic".
9:28 PM May 30th from web
Then, there's the contemplation of life and its inhabitants:
I think I've met, heard word of, or brushed shoulders with every remotely hip person in the Youngstown area. Time to move on soon, I gather.
12:31 PM May 23rd from txt
@danieljsimpson Salem Police honor Christina Miller, who smashed your mom's rear car windshield with a large rock to free her from the pond.
11:37 AM May 29th from web
Spotted a liscence plate made in Ontario. I hear it's a beautiful place; bet they really know how to live in Ontario. Could they teach me?
12:46 PM May 31st from web
Marriages are when big boys leave their blow toys in the attic. Congrats Graber, old friend, that I've no contact with, and won't see this.
6:56 PM Jun 1st from web
Rite Aid is the home of expired things: Circuit City gift cards and a liter of Coca-Cola. Both expired back in March.
9:17 PM Jun 2nd from txt
Did I just see Heraldo in a car strapped with mountain bikes to the back? What great adventures is he cooking up?
12:29 PM Jun 4th from txt
Critics will say Dinosaur Jr.'s Farm is the cream of the crop. Cynics will say it is a dry season. I dont care either way; I like the cover.
10:56 AM Jun 6th from txt
A friend promised to eat cake every day from now on. I will listen to Cake every day... Fatty food & lame bands. Neither are good for you.
2:51 PM Jun 6th from txt
I'm sick of seeing dishevelled Yankee Doodle dudes in uniform schlock, guns cocked with the left hand, yanking their doodle with the right.
3:48 PM Jun 7th from web
Why, as human beings, are we programmed to perform menial tasks for meager pay? My name is Michael, and I am a PC, indeed.
11:48 AM Jun 10th from txt
The Ecstatic is Mos Def's most worldly ambitious venture since hitchhiking to other galaxies.
12:25 PM Jun 11th from txt
Sellout tweets to trending topics are the lowest sort. I won't resort to lexicon violence. This is death of auto-tweet, moment of silence...
11:54 AM Jun 12th from web
I don't trust anything nuclear- be it bombs or families. Thats why I dont trust the North Korea family by extension of explosive expansion.
3:54 PM Jun 13th from txt
Every kid in the world is crying simultaneously in the Eastwood Mall, Niles, Ohio.
3:55 PM Jun 13th from txt
While everyone else is off shaking their bon-bon in Manchester, Tenacity, I'm here getting my work on, and reading Breakfast of Champions.
12:42 PM Jun 14th from txt
If I perish in an airplane crash into the ocean or any stretch of land within my stretch of imagination, my last words would be a tweet.
12:47 PM Jun 14th from txt
A stark scrub even resulted in shampooing my chest hair. Also, why are my eyes like sunken treasures six foot under in their sockets?
8:59 PM Jun 15th from web
Monday was full of formless silence rolled out on a red carpet, trumpeted as being worth marveling; or, to me, another day without writing.
about 23 hours ago from web
I can't wait until I just go mad, and leave it at that. Much easier than being sane, and dealing with a consistently disappointing humanity.
about 12 hours ago from txt
News ticker says 'Ohio teen who killed over video game gets 23 years.' This is precisely the society I mean. Unless the game was Mario Kart.
about 12 hours ago from txt
Visitor name tag & a duct taped X on their plaid button-up shirt. I wonder which planet this robot is visiting from, and if its nicer there.
about 9 hours ago from txt
And, the self-referencing obscurities:
Did you hear? The new Planet Pluto album title's a mouthful: Every Time I Turn Around You're Drinking Something from the Side of Your Mouth.
6:52 PM Jun 1st from web
So, yes, that's it. I've lately read Bukowski's Slouching Toward Nirvana, Ham on Rye, Where the Wild Things Are, and I'm finishing Vonnegut's Breakfast of Champions soon. I'd still like to talk about concerts, write some poetry, post some mp3s as a mix-of-sorts, and you know- prove that I am, in fact, a writer.
A closing conversation:
"What would life be without decisions?"
"Death."
"What would death be like without incisions?"
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Dwarf Poetry, the Art of Brevity.
Naturally, the longest offering of this collection of poetry is about longneck dinosaurs, and the shortest is about cauliflower. Logic, you know.
“On Sharks”
She’s a shark
and I don’t want to be one of those people:
a human model of an underwater shipwreck
with shark bites in Morse code on my stomach
as a souvenir of our time together.
“On Necks”
“Man,
she has a big thyroid,”
thought I,
upon our first meeting.
Turns out,
it’s enlarged,
hyperactive.
She can turn
every direction.
Some people
call me the thyroid master,
I am never wrong about necks.
Only,
when I was a little lizard,
necks were more deceptive
and it was Brontosaurus,
not Apatosaurus.
Thus,
as the fossil dust settled
on the “bone wars”,
the Thunder Lizard,
symbol for
a major
petroleum supplier
and figurehead
of the Post Office,
was dead.
A casualty
of the race to discover
the most extinct species.
So,
long or short,
even before dinosaurs
were bones in the earth,
I was never wrong about necks.
For more on longnecks and "bone wars", please visit this link.
“On Insomnia”
I’m tired of hearing
about insomniacs,
so let’s just put that subject
to bed already.
“On Small Towns, Pt. 1”
Do police
in farm towns
have slow-speed chases
with tractors
or even horses?
“On Small Towns, Pt. 2”
How do you
start successful
ice cream shops
in small farm towns?
Don’t call it
an ice cream parlor;
call it a Dairy Bar.
Closing time
is last call for dessert.
Brain freezes
are the new hangovers.
“On Civilization”
Look at those
savages
dragging feet
through
the wet grass
to avoid the crowds
on the cement.
Glad we’re not them,
but we admire their regression.
“On Cash 4 Gold”
Raccoon-eyed
old men
fawn over
fool’s gold
at the empty
Cash 4 Gold display
during their daily
mall walk.
Is it time already,
this early into
a poor economy,
to cash in
on their
pocket watches
and gold cross necklaces?
The reverse-Gold Rush:
“Quick.
I need cash.
Take it all back.
26 bucks?!
Why I oughta…
I’ll take it.”
These men grew
eyebrows to the fullest
their pathetic lives promised.
How can they still be so stupid?
“On Good Ideas”
Good ideas
only arise
during menial tasks
like mowing the lawn
or
taking a shit.
“On Cauliflower”
What’s wrong with this broccoli?
It’s white…
“On King Kong and Cocaine”
If snow were King Kong’s blow,
I wish he’d insufflate it already.
He’ll fall from dizzying heights
without air aid
in the form
of fighter planes,
or
dying for
the love of a woman.
“On Sharks”
She’s a shark
and I don’t want to be one of those people:
a human model of an underwater shipwreck
with shark bites in Morse code on my stomach
as a souvenir of our time together.
“On Necks”
“Man,
she has a big thyroid,”
thought I,
upon our first meeting.
Turns out,
it’s enlarged,
hyperactive.
She can turn
every direction.
Some people
call me the thyroid master,
I am never wrong about necks.
Only,
when I was a little lizard,
necks were more deceptive
and it was Brontosaurus,
not Apatosaurus.
Thus,
as the fossil dust settled
on the “bone wars”,
the Thunder Lizard,
symbol for
a major
petroleum supplier
and figurehead
of the Post Office,
was dead.
A casualty
of the race to discover
the most extinct species.
So,
long or short,
even before dinosaurs
were bones in the earth,
I was never wrong about necks.
For more on longnecks and "bone wars", please visit this link.
“On Insomnia”
I’m tired of hearing
about insomniacs,
so let’s just put that subject
to bed already.
“On Small Towns, Pt. 1”
Do police
in farm towns
have slow-speed chases
with tractors
or even horses?
“On Small Towns, Pt. 2”
How do you
start successful
ice cream shops
in small farm towns?
Don’t call it
an ice cream parlor;
call it a Dairy Bar.
Closing time
is last call for dessert.
Brain freezes
are the new hangovers.
“On Civilization”
Look at those
savages
dragging feet
through
the wet grass
to avoid the crowds
on the cement.
Glad we’re not them,
but we admire their regression.
“On Cash 4 Gold”
Raccoon-eyed
old men
fawn over
fool’s gold
at the empty
Cash 4 Gold display
during their daily
mall walk.
Is it time already,
this early into
a poor economy,
to cash in
on their
pocket watches
and gold cross necklaces?
The reverse-Gold Rush:
“Quick.
I need cash.
Take it all back.
26 bucks?!
Why I oughta…
I’ll take it.”
These men grew
eyebrows to the fullest
their pathetic lives promised.
How can they still be so stupid?
“On Good Ideas”
Good ideas
only arise
during menial tasks
like mowing the lawn
or
taking a shit.
“On Cauliflower”
What’s wrong with this broccoli?
It’s white…
“On King Kong and Cocaine”
If snow were King Kong’s blow,
I wish he’d insufflate it already.
He’ll fall from dizzying heights
without air aid
in the form
of fighter planes,
or
dying for
the love of a woman.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
I should be writing, not sleeping, and I am.
“A Bird in the Basement”
there is a bird
in the basement,
but I’m on
my way to work.
presumably,
the best way.
no time
to net it now,
the bird can wait.
while I gloom through
Girard, Ohio,
and by a beggar
with a dog.
consider paying him
to extradite
the bird
from the basement.
then reconsider
at the thought
of his archaic
street techniques:
igniting childhood
memories
for sake of bat-fowling
in the basement.
drawn to the flame
of forgotten things,
the bum will entrap
the bird in a fishing net.
and bash its bird brain
with a bat.
my bat
that lost me
Jesse’s
backyard World Series
some summer
in the nineties.
the dog and bum
will then feast
from the fridge.
and toast
their fine slay
with my fine whiskey.
I can’t drink to that.
it is a nice day,
not to be alive,
but it is nice.
this verse could be
one of the many
Jib Jab Hot Dog Shoppe
sign philosophies.
exactly,
as if the extra
P and E
can save you now.
recent wisdom read:
“envy is the enemy
of happiness.”
and,
each day
a new philosophy.
does anybody
still
read poetry?
enraged and likely
envious
of their delicious
hot dogs
and famous
chili sauce.
I become their enemy,
setting fire
to the building,
waiting
as if bat-fowling
for the fat, wise prophets
to rise from their roost.
and they do.
which is
precisely when
I sneak in.
stealing the chili
sauce recipe,
giggling with glee.
then,
working to begin
my own Hot Dog Shop.
leaving out
the excess
P and E.
dedicating the energy
to only the finest
chili sauces.
not to mention,
the most enlightened
sign
Philosophies
and
Expressions.
my own P and E,
if you must.
“Hot Dawg!”
being one of
my latest
masterpieces.
of course,
it is possible
none of this
ever happened.
all this
sleeping upside-down,
like the bats
and bat-fowling
tactics,
is getting to my head.
Lately, I've been reading late-era Bukowski poetry from a collection entitled Slouching Toward Nirvana (2006). I'm not sure you can cite him as an influence for the previous poem, but as my friend Danny works the kinks out of his songwriting (not the band), he wrote this blog:
"i wish i were mixtures of nick drake, daniel rossen, ashcroft, buckley, noah lennox, stephen jenkins, win butler, stipe, the greenwood's, fiona apple, hamilton leithauser, james jimes, miley cyrus and selena gomez.
sometimes."
still in a poetic mood, I commented:
"all i thought of,
is 'shades of'.
you know,
instead of mixtures.
i'd like to be shades of.
a shadow artist.
following you,
but keeping my distance.
the stalker
that calls these names
my inspiration."
and apparently he didn't feel fit to include Yorke; I find that strange. also, jim james is now 'james jimes' and the 'greenwood's' could be any of these people, ranging from Jonny and Colin of Radiohead to Chester Greenwood, the American inventor of earmuffs. ha.
there is a bird
in the basement,
but I’m on
my way to work.
presumably,
the best way.
no time
to net it now,
the bird can wait.
while I gloom through
Girard, Ohio,
and by a beggar
with a dog.
consider paying him
to extradite
the bird
from the basement.
then reconsider
at the thought
of his archaic
street techniques:
igniting childhood
memories
for sake of bat-fowling
in the basement.
drawn to the flame
of forgotten things,
the bum will entrap
the bird in a fishing net.
and bash its bird brain
with a bat.
my bat
that lost me
Jesse’s
backyard World Series
some summer
in the nineties.
the dog and bum
will then feast
from the fridge.
and toast
their fine slay
with my fine whiskey.
I can’t drink to that.
it is a nice day,
not to be alive,
but it is nice.
this verse could be
one of the many
Jib Jab Hot Dog Shoppe
sign philosophies.
exactly,
as if the extra
P and E
can save you now.
recent wisdom read:
“envy is the enemy
of happiness.”
and,
each day
a new philosophy.
does anybody
still
read poetry?
enraged and likely
envious
of their delicious
hot dogs
and famous
chili sauce.
I become their enemy,
setting fire
to the building,
waiting
as if bat-fowling
for the fat, wise prophets
to rise from their roost.
and they do.
which is
precisely when
I sneak in.
stealing the chili
sauce recipe,
giggling with glee.
then,
working to begin
my own Hot Dog Shop.
leaving out
the excess
P and E.
dedicating the energy
to only the finest
chili sauces.
not to mention,
the most enlightened
sign
Philosophies
and
Expressions.
my own P and E,
if you must.
“Hot Dawg!”
being one of
my latest
masterpieces.
of course,
it is possible
none of this
ever happened.
all this
sleeping upside-down,
like the bats
and bat-fowling
tactics,
is getting to my head.
Lately, I've been reading late-era Bukowski poetry from a collection entitled Slouching Toward Nirvana (2006). I'm not sure you can cite him as an influence for the previous poem, but as my friend Danny works the kinks out of his songwriting (not the band), he wrote this blog:
"i wish i were mixtures of nick drake, daniel rossen, ashcroft, buckley, noah lennox, stephen jenkins, win butler, stipe, the greenwood's, fiona apple, hamilton leithauser, james jimes, miley cyrus and selena gomez.
sometimes."
still in a poetic mood, I commented:
"all i thought of,
is 'shades of'.
you know,
instead of mixtures.
i'd like to be shades of.
a shadow artist.
following you,
but keeping my distance.
the stalker
that calls these names
my inspiration."
and apparently he didn't feel fit to include Yorke; I find that strange. also, jim james is now 'james jimes' and the 'greenwood's' could be any of these people, ranging from Jonny and Colin of Radiohead to Chester Greenwood, the American inventor of earmuffs. ha.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
The Birthday Poem, you know him?
Since last year's birthday post, I've acquired both my favorite 1985 album, Tom Waits' Rain Dogs, and Radiohead's Kid A on vinyl. Not only am I celebrating siete de Mayo, but I'm celebrating the anniversary since I ordered my first turntable.
Plus, I've reached the end of my second Chinese 12-year-cycle. Once again, it's the year of the Ox, and I'm celebrating my favorite 1985 albums again.
Some additions to my favorites include The Fall's This Nation's Saving Grace (which really needs more listens), Kate Bush's Hounds of Love (which has been receiving plenty of love on the listening side), and Mekons' Fear and Whiskey. Oh, and I downloaded LL Cool J's Radio, which I couldn't apparently live without, but have done fine without listening to. I loved his Greatest Hits as a kid; that's enough, isn't it?
I'm up for half-assing a poem while I finish another Red Stripe (which is not, contrary to a local bartender's joke, a fish).
It's the next morning as I type this; I had the poem finished, pondering the title. Shortly in this consideration of the title phase, I passed out on the couch before 2am, listening to The Smiths' Meat Is Murder (also, 1985).
“The Neighbor’s Advances”
“Coming home from work again, are we?”
A young boy leaned
near the entrance
suspiciously close
to the moment she arrived
to give her a look.
“Watch your side mirror while backing out, won’t you?”
The young boy,
let’s call him Beau Slate
for the sake of not knowing,
not caring to go further into investigating,
was watching her like a driver’s instructor
as she left for her big girl job.
“Come watch a movie with me, will you?”
He beckoned as she bargained
for another early night,
early morning.
“I’m 17 now; I can rent rated R films.”
And he did,
her seventeen-year-old neighbor,
living with his sister and her kids,
the product of her first marriage,
frequenting the same
apartment complex
in Las Vegas.
Delivering fliers for restaurants
for 45 cents
per paper,
making sure to avoid
the dumpster
in case they checked his work later.
"If you’re lonely by yourself still, you can visit, you know?”
It’s too easy to say Beau
dropped from high school,
let’s say he has had
one felony too many.
And she,
let’s call her Madame Penny,
for the sake of her being overly friendly
and receptive to newcomers,
far from her college boyfriend;
the other has-been.
“Yes, why don’t we?”
She said finally,
returning from her big girl job,
her being on the final level
in Super Mario World,
putting her savings into
a new construction home,
Beau portraying the princess in need of saving.
“Thank you Madame, but the enemy is in another castle, you see?”
Both of them pretending:
Beau, the failing,
unchanging kid,
and,
Madame, the one that seeks this
for de-emphasis on her own
shortcomings;
a way of becoming
a nurturer rather than
the self-torturer.
“I’m glad you gave in to my advances.”
Beau says,
and he dances
in his tank top
and marijuana leaf necklace,
after a long day
of delivering fliers
and pamphlets.
Plus, I've reached the end of my second Chinese 12-year-cycle. Once again, it's the year of the Ox, and I'm celebrating my favorite 1985 albums again.
Some additions to my favorites include The Fall's This Nation's Saving Grace (which really needs more listens), Kate Bush's Hounds of Love (which has been receiving plenty of love on the listening side), and Mekons' Fear and Whiskey. Oh, and I downloaded LL Cool J's Radio, which I couldn't apparently live without, but have done fine without listening to. I loved his Greatest Hits as a kid; that's enough, isn't it?
I'm up for half-assing a poem while I finish another Red Stripe (which is not, contrary to a local bartender's joke, a fish).
It's the next morning as I type this; I had the poem finished, pondering the title. Shortly in this consideration of the title phase, I passed out on the couch before 2am, listening to The Smiths' Meat Is Murder (also, 1985).
“The Neighbor’s Advances”
“Coming home from work again, are we?”
A young boy leaned
near the entrance
suspiciously close
to the moment she arrived
to give her a look.
“Watch your side mirror while backing out, won’t you?”
The young boy,
let’s call him Beau Slate
for the sake of not knowing,
not caring to go further into investigating,
was watching her like a driver’s instructor
as she left for her big girl job.
“Come watch a movie with me, will you?”
He beckoned as she bargained
for another early night,
early morning.
“I’m 17 now; I can rent rated R films.”
And he did,
her seventeen-year-old neighbor,
living with his sister and her kids,
the product of her first marriage,
frequenting the same
apartment complex
in Las Vegas.
Delivering fliers for restaurants
for 45 cents
per paper,
making sure to avoid
the dumpster
in case they checked his work later.
"If you’re lonely by yourself still, you can visit, you know?”
It’s too easy to say Beau
dropped from high school,
let’s say he has had
one felony too many.
And she,
let’s call her Madame Penny,
for the sake of her being overly friendly
and receptive to newcomers,
far from her college boyfriend;
the other has-been.
“Yes, why don’t we?”
She said finally,
returning from her big girl job,
her being on the final level
in Super Mario World,
putting her savings into
a new construction home,
Beau portraying the princess in need of saving.
“Thank you Madame, but the enemy is in another castle, you see?”
Both of them pretending:
Beau, the failing,
unchanging kid,
and,
Madame, the one that seeks this
for de-emphasis on her own
shortcomings;
a way of becoming
a nurturer rather than
the self-torturer.
“I’m glad you gave in to my advances.”
Beau says,
and he dances
in his tank top
and marijuana leaf necklace,
after a long day
of delivering fliers
and pamphlets.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
And now another...
I've been sitting on this review, so, here, let me stand up.
Junior Boys/Max Tundra at the Grog Shop in Cleveland, OH
March 31, 2009:
When Junior Boys entered my consciousness in 2006 with their sophomore effort, So This Is Goodbye, they were the perfect travelsick electropop with woozy, lovelorn lyrics and airy vocals. They floated in on a beautiful midtempo high horse after the high come down of their debut. Of course, they threatened to take the act out of the bedroom and onto the dance floor with “In the Morning”, before recessing back into music better suited for the ride home. Yet, back in ’06, they were the better for it. So This Is Goodbye’s shifting tempo adopted something of a story arc with personal favourite, “Count Souvenirs”, standing as the rising action before the resigned depression of Frank Sinatra cover “When No One Cares” and the resolution of leaving this beat scene on album closer “FM”. This may be a bit of a stretch to imagine it as a narrative, but compared to the meandering Begone Dull Care, it felt as epic as Lord of the Rings. Or, at least as developed as countless movies with indie dork meets cute girl and shares playlist plotlines.
It’s already been explored by countless music websites, but their latest effort lacks much of the drive of their previous albums. Highlights like “Hazel” are less affecting than previous highs, and the lows are even lower. If not for some of their best technical work and Jeremy Greenspan’s lovely, lilting vocals, this album would’ve been a complete toss-off. Yet, it does have some draw, and most of that may stem from the simple desire for new material. Plus, in the live setting, the album’s flaws were less evident, though it’s always a bad sign when you haven’t spun the album weeks after you saw them live. It’s like, okay, that’s the best those songs will sound with live drumming and sporadic guitar work to flesh out these tracks.
“Hazel” functioned as a brilliant opener to match wits with the couple of So This Is Goodbye's slinkier tracks that followed: “The Equalizer” and “Double Shadow”. “Work” even threatened to work out some of the track’s unreleased tension. “Parallel Lines”, however, was just as underdeveloped as the minimalistic album implies. Afterwards, they played another relative new album highlight, “Bits and Pieces”, followed by two of their career best: “Count Souvenirs” and “Birthday”. “The Animator” served merely as a welcome mat for the engaging “In the Morning”. Their work-it method clearly extends to their live personas as my meager interpretation of their live set mirrors the show. As in, they rarely stepped out of their musical shell to embrace the audience. Instead, they just hoped the audience would embrace them. They did warn the half-stepping eager to dance audience that the encore would begin with a ‘slow one’ before they returned to the dance mold. And, after the hushed encore starter, “FM”, they played “Under the Sun” as the evening dragged on.
You’d think they’d take note that their audience was eager to dance, and perhaps they’d work on putting out something more willing to stretch their limits. Unfortunately, their performance doesn’t seem to suggest anything of the sort. Seeing them perform midday at the Pitchfork Music Festival in 2007, “Under the Sun” was an obvious set closer. This time, it was all mixed feelings and muted excitement. This is a band that is already maturing, and may unfortunately have their highs behind them. Superb production quality oozes from their latest, but the travelsick band have made a wrong turn somewhere. As we approach a new decade, it’ll be a matter of whether or not they still matter after the projected three year wait for a new album. While their new album certainly isn’t outright disappointing, they also aren’t exactly moving forward and it is probable that their musical warmth will be reduced to a fuzzy nostalgia.
As my twit response to Tiny Mix Tapes’ review went on April 8th: “No unfurling” or “climaxing”? New Junior Boys album sounds like most of my dates, only smoother and glossier. This is fitting, too, considering I attended the show alone. As a date, Junior Boys had plenty of confident charm, but I’m not sure the chemistry is really there. It’s okay, it may be a long wait, but just ask me out again in three years when you’ve put the finishing touches on your next album, and I’ll return to see if there’s any of that old spark.
Setlist:
Hazel. The Equalizer. Double Shadow. Work. Parallel Lines. Bits and Pieces. Count Souvenirs. Birthday. The Animator. In the Morning.
Encore: FM. Under the Sun.
It should also be noted that Max Tundra's frantic, exuberant set was a sure highlight. I may have spent most of my writerly energy on Junior Boys, but that's only because they've meant more to me over the years. Max Tundra, like Junior Boys, has two solid albums to his name. Although, unlike Junior Boys, they are his last two, not his first two. Here's a glimpse at Max Tundra's brilliant perfectionist set as he performs a cover of Rogers and Hammersteins' "So Long, Farewell" from The Sound of Music, which I recorded:
For an idea of what Junior Boys are capable of at their very best, here's a video I recorded of "In the Morning":
At the Grog Shop, I've become somewhat of a spectacle for the doorman and possibly part-owner of The Grog Shop. He remembers me as the guy from Washingtonville, Ohio. Since he's lived in Cleveland his entire life, it is impossible for him to imagine life in a small town, and as I discussed my intent to move on soon, he imparted this wisdom/slam on his hometown: "If you’re going to pick a city, pick one that’s not on life support."
And now, here are some photos:
Junior Boys/Max Tundra at the Grog Shop in Cleveland, OH
March 31, 2009:
When Junior Boys entered my consciousness in 2006 with their sophomore effort, So This Is Goodbye, they were the perfect travelsick electropop with woozy, lovelorn lyrics and airy vocals. They floated in on a beautiful midtempo high horse after the high come down of their debut. Of course, they threatened to take the act out of the bedroom and onto the dance floor with “In the Morning”, before recessing back into music better suited for the ride home. Yet, back in ’06, they were the better for it. So This Is Goodbye’s shifting tempo adopted something of a story arc with personal favourite, “Count Souvenirs”, standing as the rising action before the resigned depression of Frank Sinatra cover “When No One Cares” and the resolution of leaving this beat scene on album closer “FM”. This may be a bit of a stretch to imagine it as a narrative, but compared to the meandering Begone Dull Care, it felt as epic as Lord of the Rings. Or, at least as developed as countless movies with indie dork meets cute girl and shares playlist plotlines.
It’s already been explored by countless music websites, but their latest effort lacks much of the drive of their previous albums. Highlights like “Hazel” are less affecting than previous highs, and the lows are even lower. If not for some of their best technical work and Jeremy Greenspan’s lovely, lilting vocals, this album would’ve been a complete toss-off. Yet, it does have some draw, and most of that may stem from the simple desire for new material. Plus, in the live setting, the album’s flaws were less evident, though it’s always a bad sign when you haven’t spun the album weeks after you saw them live. It’s like, okay, that’s the best those songs will sound with live drumming and sporadic guitar work to flesh out these tracks.
“Hazel” functioned as a brilliant opener to match wits with the couple of So This Is Goodbye's slinkier tracks that followed: “The Equalizer” and “Double Shadow”. “Work” even threatened to work out some of the track’s unreleased tension. “Parallel Lines”, however, was just as underdeveloped as the minimalistic album implies. Afterwards, they played another relative new album highlight, “Bits and Pieces”, followed by two of their career best: “Count Souvenirs” and “Birthday”. “The Animator” served merely as a welcome mat for the engaging “In the Morning”. Their work-it method clearly extends to their live personas as my meager interpretation of their live set mirrors the show. As in, they rarely stepped out of their musical shell to embrace the audience. Instead, they just hoped the audience would embrace them. They did warn the half-stepping eager to dance audience that the encore would begin with a ‘slow one’ before they returned to the dance mold. And, after the hushed encore starter, “FM”, they played “Under the Sun” as the evening dragged on.
You’d think they’d take note that their audience was eager to dance, and perhaps they’d work on putting out something more willing to stretch their limits. Unfortunately, their performance doesn’t seem to suggest anything of the sort. Seeing them perform midday at the Pitchfork Music Festival in 2007, “Under the Sun” was an obvious set closer. This time, it was all mixed feelings and muted excitement. This is a band that is already maturing, and may unfortunately have their highs behind them. Superb production quality oozes from their latest, but the travelsick band have made a wrong turn somewhere. As we approach a new decade, it’ll be a matter of whether or not they still matter after the projected three year wait for a new album. While their new album certainly isn’t outright disappointing, they also aren’t exactly moving forward and it is probable that their musical warmth will be reduced to a fuzzy nostalgia.
As my twit response to Tiny Mix Tapes’ review went on April 8th: “No unfurling” or “climaxing”? New Junior Boys album sounds like most of my dates, only smoother and glossier. This is fitting, too, considering I attended the show alone. As a date, Junior Boys had plenty of confident charm, but I’m not sure the chemistry is really there. It’s okay, it may be a long wait, but just ask me out again in three years when you’ve put the finishing touches on your next album, and I’ll return to see if there’s any of that old spark.
Setlist:
Hazel. The Equalizer. Double Shadow. Work. Parallel Lines. Bits and Pieces. Count Souvenirs. Birthday. The Animator. In the Morning.
Encore: FM. Under the Sun.
It should also be noted that Max Tundra's frantic, exuberant set was a sure highlight. I may have spent most of my writerly energy on Junior Boys, but that's only because they've meant more to me over the years. Max Tundra, like Junior Boys, has two solid albums to his name. Although, unlike Junior Boys, they are his last two, not his first two. Here's a glimpse at Max Tundra's brilliant perfectionist set as he performs a cover of Rogers and Hammersteins' "So Long, Farewell" from The Sound of Music, which I recorded:
For an idea of what Junior Boys are capable of at their very best, here's a video I recorded of "In the Morning":
At the Grog Shop, I've become somewhat of a spectacle for the doorman and possibly part-owner of The Grog Shop. He remembers me as the guy from Washingtonville, Ohio. Since he's lived in Cleveland his entire life, it is impossible for him to imagine life in a small town, and as I discussed my intent to move on soon, he imparted this wisdom/slam on his hometown: "If you’re going to pick a city, pick one that’s not on life support."
And now, here are some photos:
Attempting to mystify or demystify the live experience of The Mountain Goats.
In my first attempt at regaining a self-imposed feeling of accomplishment, here are some thoughts on the Mountain Goats/John Vanderslice show.
Embarassing Truths:
The first time I listened to one of the lo-fi albums by The Mountain Goats, also known as one John Darnielle, in my car was not unlike the first time I decided to play Brian Eno’s Ambient 4: On Land. Concerning Eno, I found myself frustrated that nothing had happened yet, and began fast-forwarding towards the end of my drive through the tracks to see when things would pick up. Obviously, it has to be building towards something, right? It wasn’t until later, as a late night soundtrack playing softly in the background at home, that I discovered the muted, yet moving majesty of Brian Eno and ambient music. Similarly, a listen to lo-fi had me puzzled as to whether it was my car speakers producing the feedback, or if maybe I just had a bad copy. Eventually, I realized the tape hiss is part of the recording.
Since those early discoveries, ambient has proved a powerful genre, and I’ve seen The Mountain Goats perform twice. The first was a couple years ago with (gasp!) a bassist. The second, however, was part of his Gone Primitive tour with John Vanderslice. Although I certainly love his newer output, so much as to listen more readily than his plethora of earlier material, I understand the purists’ preference of solo performances. Phew. That was more P’s and S’s than most handwritten letters have post-scripts. His solo sets are ripe with immediate potency of fervent guitar strumming and vocals bursting off the page, compared to Brian Eno's self-described 'sharp as a pencil' voice.
March 29, 2009:
The journey to the free show at Kenyon College, performed at the Horn Gallery (more like a barn that is typically used for displaying the students' most-likely pastoral art), was enough to fund lyrics for another Mountain Goats' "Going to..."-style tune. This particular event was in the heart of Amish Ohio. It was a near-three hour drive that turned ugly towards the end with sleet and darkness getting comfortable with the countryside. We took a different route on the way home to discover there really isn't any good way to travel to or from that area, as we passed lighted carriages on the road, towns full of antique stores and even more carriages that appeared to be returning from their dates in popular Amish towns such as Wilmot.
The show was boosted by a collaborative performance between the two men playing some of their shared Moon Colony Bloodbath EP that saw a limited vinyl run during their tour, though it wasn't available when I saw them. The EP is loosely based on a concept surrounding organ harvesting on the moon, which John Darnielle prosed up as expected, and as John Vanderslice previously touted his ability to during his opening set. Stuffed into the 'gallery' like cattle, we watched with utter (or, is that udder? -ah, I hate myself) delight as Darnielle kept to his lyrical guns. He attempted to 'demystify or remystify breakup songs' as he played one of Get Lonely's most uplifting numbers, "Woke Up New". Yet, he quipped, a breakup is like a flesh wound that leaves you without arms or legs, and still technically is a flesh wound.
However, my favorite non-musical moment likely came from a fan exchange, and I've stolen his recollection of the night from his last.fm journal. It was easy to find as he had posted all over the event page.
John Darnielle: (Glancing at setlist written in small notebook) Oh! Good! This one's, um... This one's a song I haven't played for a while, I think you guys'll like it.
Fan: (Standing about ten feet away) It better be 'Song for an Old Friend'.
JD: (Turning, staring directly at him) Well, it's not.
Fan: (Saddened) You're breaking my heart!
JD: That's actually the only reason I came here.
(Pause)
Guy to the left: It's obviously 'Golden Boy'!
SCENE
To their dismay, it wasn't either, but I had a laugh. Now, The Mountain Goats have such an extensive catalogue that I'm unsure how fans can pinpoint the songs he performs at a whim. In fact, in roughly three years since I began using last.fm, The Mountain Goats have become my fifth most-played artist with over 1,500 tracks scrobbled, as they say. There was a week or so that I had spent listening to almost nothing but his albums as I worked my way from the beginning to the end with everything I had. After all of these studies, it still is a challenge to know even a large percentage of the songs by name, or even recognize having heard them before. Granted, I hadn't heard the set opener, but this sort of vast musical expand is certainly beguiling.
The setlist went something like this according to some obsessed fan on a message board somewhere:
"I've Got the Sex"
"Collapsing Stars"
"Dance Music"
"Cobscook Bay"
"Woke Up New"
"How to Embrace a Swamp Creature"
"Minnesota"
"Masher"
"Ontario"
"You or Your Memory"
"Grendel's Mother"
"Cotton"
Craters of the Moon
"Surrounded" (w/ John Vanderslice)
Another New Collab. Song (w/ JV)
"This Year" (w/ JV)
fake-encore of "No Children"
The encore element was stifled by the fact that a barn fails to provide a backstage, so Darnielle feigned ending the set after prompting us he'd do so, only to return declaring, "I've no idea what to play!" I'd regret not hearing fan-favorite "Going to Georgia" if he hadn't played it when I saw him two years ago in decidedly Amish-free Pittsburgh.
I had written the breakup intro from memory, and what I typed as a text draft into my cellphone, but here's a video an audience member recorded:
And, also, the pseudo-encore:
Embarassing Truths:
The first time I listened to one of the lo-fi albums by The Mountain Goats, also known as one John Darnielle, in my car was not unlike the first time I decided to play Brian Eno’s Ambient 4: On Land. Concerning Eno, I found myself frustrated that nothing had happened yet, and began fast-forwarding towards the end of my drive through the tracks to see when things would pick up. Obviously, it has to be building towards something, right? It wasn’t until later, as a late night soundtrack playing softly in the background at home, that I discovered the muted, yet moving majesty of Brian Eno and ambient music. Similarly, a listen to lo-fi had me puzzled as to whether it was my car speakers producing the feedback, or if maybe I just had a bad copy. Eventually, I realized the tape hiss is part of the recording.
Since those early discoveries, ambient has proved a powerful genre, and I’ve seen The Mountain Goats perform twice. The first was a couple years ago with (gasp!) a bassist. The second, however, was part of his Gone Primitive tour with John Vanderslice. Although I certainly love his newer output, so much as to listen more readily than his plethora of earlier material, I understand the purists’ preference of solo performances. Phew. That was more P’s and S’s than most handwritten letters have post-scripts. His solo sets are ripe with immediate potency of fervent guitar strumming and vocals bursting off the page, compared to Brian Eno's self-described 'sharp as a pencil' voice.
March 29, 2009:
The journey to the free show at Kenyon College, performed at the Horn Gallery (more like a barn that is typically used for displaying the students' most-likely pastoral art), was enough to fund lyrics for another Mountain Goats' "Going to..."-style tune. This particular event was in the heart of Amish Ohio. It was a near-three hour drive that turned ugly towards the end with sleet and darkness getting comfortable with the countryside. We took a different route on the way home to discover there really isn't any good way to travel to or from that area, as we passed lighted carriages on the road, towns full of antique stores and even more carriages that appeared to be returning from their dates in popular Amish towns such as Wilmot.
The show was boosted by a collaborative performance between the two men playing some of their shared Moon Colony Bloodbath EP that saw a limited vinyl run during their tour, though it wasn't available when I saw them. The EP is loosely based on a concept surrounding organ harvesting on the moon, which John Darnielle prosed up as expected, and as John Vanderslice previously touted his ability to during his opening set. Stuffed into the 'gallery' like cattle, we watched with utter (or, is that udder? -ah, I hate myself) delight as Darnielle kept to his lyrical guns. He attempted to 'demystify or remystify breakup songs' as he played one of Get Lonely's most uplifting numbers, "Woke Up New". Yet, he quipped, a breakup is like a flesh wound that leaves you without arms or legs, and still technically is a flesh wound.
However, my favorite non-musical moment likely came from a fan exchange, and I've stolen his recollection of the night from his last.fm journal. It was easy to find as he had posted all over the event page.
John Darnielle: (Glancing at setlist written in small notebook) Oh! Good! This one's, um... This one's a song I haven't played for a while, I think you guys'll like it.
Fan: (Standing about ten feet away) It better be 'Song for an Old Friend'.
JD: (Turning, staring directly at him) Well, it's not.
Fan: (Saddened) You're breaking my heart!
JD: That's actually the only reason I came here.
(Pause)
Guy to the left: It's obviously 'Golden Boy'!
SCENE
To their dismay, it wasn't either, but I had a laugh. Now, The Mountain Goats have such an extensive catalogue that I'm unsure how fans can pinpoint the songs he performs at a whim. In fact, in roughly three years since I began using last.fm, The Mountain Goats have become my fifth most-played artist with over 1,500 tracks scrobbled, as they say. There was a week or so that I had spent listening to almost nothing but his albums as I worked my way from the beginning to the end with everything I had. After all of these studies, it still is a challenge to know even a large percentage of the songs by name, or even recognize having heard them before. Granted, I hadn't heard the set opener, but this sort of vast musical expand is certainly beguiling.
The setlist went something like this according to some obsessed fan on a message board somewhere:
"I've Got the Sex"
"Collapsing Stars"
"Dance Music"
"Cobscook Bay"
"Woke Up New"
"How to Embrace a Swamp Creature"
"Minnesota"
"Masher"
"Ontario"
"You or Your Memory"
"Grendel's Mother"
"Cotton"
Craters of the Moon
"Surrounded" (w/ John Vanderslice)
Another New Collab. Song (w/ JV)
"This Year" (w/ JV)
fake-encore of "No Children"
The encore element was stifled by the fact that a barn fails to provide a backstage, so Darnielle feigned ending the set after prompting us he'd do so, only to return declaring, "I've no idea what to play!" I'd regret not hearing fan-favorite "Going to Georgia" if he hadn't played it when I saw him two years ago in decidedly Amish-free Pittsburgh.
I had written the breakup intro from memory, and what I typed as a text draft into my cellphone, but here's a video an audience member recorded:
And, also, the pseudo-encore:
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
If there's rain, there's flu season.
“Racing the Rain”
Counting the tiny headstone mile markers
on the Little Beaver Creek Greenway Trail
Bicycling over wooden bridges
and by a wetlands’ worth of as many
water lilies as Monet’s oil painting series
Padding the quiddity of those that saw
ten-foot wide blacktop
pave the backyards
of farms, trailers, two-room homes
trash spilling over valleys into streams
neglected tires left still
on each side of the Greenway trail
Rusting farmers’ equipment,
abandoned, decaying Ford vehicles
from early in the 20th century
damaged beyond the ken of the mechanic’s hand
Listening to Animal Collective’s
Merriweather Post Pavilion
when the clouds begin to come together
adopting a darker colour
like a bastard child born
of a stranger’s labor
fed to another family
told to support your brother
Fearing what the shifting shy
and the susurrus of the wind
in the woodlands portends
Clearing fields for power lines
providing electric company
for electric neighbors
to quiver like the yellow finch
over the seed of the morning paper
Learning to make the utility payments on time
and orderly, avoiding reading promises
of disconnection notices
Remaining few headstones left
forced to race the rain
sunflower pollen
can overpower lesser lung passages
practice breathing
keep pedaling
Walking up the hill on Washington Street
back to Washingtonville
and away from the trail
the electric company it keeps
resigned to the rain
and defeat
Listening to Jonathan Richman’s “That Summer Feeling”
and though, safe at home, still
we’re always racing, and
it’s always raining.
---
Now that that's over with, Edward Droste's (of Grizzly Bear) twitter brought this little youtube to my attention:
Of course, I don't want my grandparents' friends with health problems to die, but this all seems like government propaganda and scare-mongering to me.
Ahem, excuse me while I fix myself up a nice tinfoil hat.
How to Make a Tinfoil Hat - The most amazing videos are a click away
Counting the tiny headstone mile markers
on the Little Beaver Creek Greenway Trail
Bicycling over wooden bridges
and by a wetlands’ worth of as many
water lilies as Monet’s oil painting series
Padding the quiddity of those that saw
ten-foot wide blacktop
pave the backyards
of farms, trailers, two-room homes
trash spilling over valleys into streams
neglected tires left still
on each side of the Greenway trail
Rusting farmers’ equipment,
abandoned, decaying Ford vehicles
from early in the 20th century
damaged beyond the ken of the mechanic’s hand
Listening to Animal Collective’s
Merriweather Post Pavilion
when the clouds begin to come together
adopting a darker colour
like a bastard child born
of a stranger’s labor
fed to another family
told to support your brother
Fearing what the shifting shy
and the susurrus of the wind
in the woodlands portends
Clearing fields for power lines
providing electric company
for electric neighbors
to quiver like the yellow finch
over the seed of the morning paper
Learning to make the utility payments on time
and orderly, avoiding reading promises
of disconnection notices
Remaining few headstones left
forced to race the rain
sunflower pollen
can overpower lesser lung passages
practice breathing
keep pedaling
Walking up the hill on Washington Street
back to Washingtonville
and away from the trail
the electric company it keeps
resigned to the rain
and defeat
Listening to Jonathan Richman’s “That Summer Feeling”
and though, safe at home, still
we’re always racing, and
it’s always raining.
---
Now that that's over with, Edward Droste's (of Grizzly Bear) twitter brought this little youtube to my attention:
Of course, I don't want my grandparents' friends with health problems to die, but this all seems like government propaganda and scare-mongering to me.
Ahem, excuse me while I fix myself up a nice tinfoil hat.
How to Make a Tinfoil Hat - The most amazing videos are a click away
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
I'm a die-hard fan of Die Hard.
Where've I been? Oh, right, that. Well, for one, I discovered twitter. Yes, I'm still thinking about a novel, and anytime I think of a good line to toss into the fiction pit, I reassure myself "that's a novel idea!" It's not as hard as it looks, really. And some of these toss-off ideas have been churned out in the form of the twitter-machine. Okay, pretty much all of them. In fact, this blog is a half-baked afterthought, considering I'm not at all baked on this 4/20. Either way, I've used it as an outlet for random jokes, observations, current music obsessions and witticisms to varied effect.
Here are some highlights you might've missed (yes, I'm doing the work of filtering for you):
(to promote my last blog):
Chevy Cobalt sales drop 42%. Thanks to theplanetpluto.net, hovercraft sales soar. The future floats like my hope for a new Avalances album.
11:46 AM Apr 2nd from txt
I missed the 'H' in Avalanches. These are the sacrifices of texting twits, and learning to be legit.
7:19 PM Apr 2nd from web
This is when I begin to experiment with rhyming twits.
I'm doing twitter on the shitter; and it should also be mentioned that sleeping on the couch isn't so glamorous either.
10:17 AM Apr 3rd from txt
I saw a profound bumper sticker from a handicapped car that read "Bush... It". Also, My Morning Jacket's "Golden" is still just that.
12:36 PM Apr 3rd from txt
Carlos Santana wants Obama to legalize pot. Carlos, just because we have a cool black president doesnt mean he's in charge of your next fix.
8:06 PM Apr 3rd from txt
I had a dream where I was wearing metallic blue crocs and had become a lamer version of an already lame person.
9:39 AM Apr 4th from txt
I should've submitted this dream to the 'dream bank'. I hope they approve me for a loan tonight.
Now that I'm conscious, I'm listening to the Antlers and feeling a little bit cooler already.
9:40 AM Apr 4th from txt
When exactly is the 'golden age'? For my sake, I hope I reach it in a month at 24: the age they first published Bukowski, so why not me?
12:51 PM Apr 4th from txt
I'm being told that in literary works, the Golden Age typically ends with a devastating event which brings about The Fall. I'm OK with that.
7:48 PM Apr 4th from web
Like the other post-Unicorns project Islands, Clues feels like the fun has been stripped from the affair despite mythical speak of dragons.
11:33 AM Apr 5th from txt
If you work at a bowling alley, would you still go on strike? And if you do, would it be misconstrued as a good thing?
1:57 PM Apr 5th from txt
I like the eerie self-preserving feeling of a sabre-toothed tiger preening in the evening.
11:20 PM Apr 5th from web
So, what's the tweet on the streets? What little twittle makes you giggle while you piddle? And, which is your twit favourite?
11:35 PM Apr 5th from web
Countryside kids trade city conveniences for travelling long distances. Make trade fair, invent a teleport & I'll go anywhere outside Ohio.
2:54 PM Apr 6th from txt
New White Rabbits album produced by Britt Daniel of Spoon is the kick in the teeth that I need and didn't realize I needed.
3:01 PM Apr 6th from txt
If snow were King Kong's blow, I wish he'd insufflate it already. Forget the fighter planes, he'll fall himself and not just for his woman.
8:18 AM Apr 7th from web
And now same-sex marriage has spread to Vermont. It's only a matter of time before it drops down to the phallic region of the US: Florida.
5:35 PM Apr 7th from txt
In my youth, I played Sonic games and read the comic. In my golden years, I listen to Sonic Youth and I've been to a Sonic restaurant once.
5:48 PM Apr 7th from txt
I wonder if submarine sandwhiches taste better below sea level. Oh well, bottoms up.
5:49 PM Apr 7th from txt
@tmtzine "No unfurling" or "climaxing"? New Junior Boys album sounds like most of my dates, only smoother and glossier.
12:09 PM Apr 8th from web in reply to tmtzine
Microblogging is the best thing since Micro Machines.
1:31 PM Apr 8th from txt
Creepy Old Navy mannequins talking about making the beast with two backs makes me go Micro-soft
3:44 PM Apr 8th from web
There's a house on top of the Fort Pit Tunnel, but all I did was walk under a restaurant's funnel to the garbage can on the south side.
1:10 AM Apr 9th from web
What is wrong with this broccoli? It's white...
4:09 PM Apr 9th from txt
Good ideas only arise during monotonous acts like mowing the lawn and using the restroom.
4:59 PM Apr 10th from txt
So, I wonder which filthy restroom Dirty Projectors, Canadian slang for penis(?), wrote their pretty new album in.
5:01 PM Apr 10th from txt
'Text' should never be a verb, so for the next "text the cellie" request I hear, I'll tell them to verb off & find a proper noun that cares.
9:50 AM Apr 11th from txt
(On Easter Day)
For the purpose of themes, listen to Patti Smith's Easter, Man Man's Rabbit Habits, and Dirty Projectors' Bitte Orca only 'cuz it's great.
11:55 AM Apr 12th from web
If "Stillness Is the Move", then this is the groove to set myself in motion in the morning.
9:51 AM Apr 14th from txt
Also, a notable antithesis to Chad VanGaalen's slacker anthem, "Inside the Molecules", that reads: 'I wake up early in the afternoon...'.
9:55 AM Apr 14th from txt
What did one bloodthirsty vampire say to the other in tune to Animal Collective? "When the sun goes down, we'll go out again."
7:28 PM Apr 15th from txt
What do you call yourself if you're a die-hard fan of Die Hard?
6:09 PM Apr 16th from txt
There's a resurgence of bedbugs, but I should be OK. I purchased a surplus of bug-sized beds to set up a bedbug & breakfast & turn a profit.
3:11 AM Apr 17th from txt
What exactly is the mass appeal of an exhibitionist biker band mixed with 80s hair & synth? Gil Mantera's Party Dream: as bad as it sounds.
12:58 AM Apr 18th from txt
Which album from this decade would Somali pirates place at #1? My guess: Original Pirate Material- you're listening to the Streets.
9:13 AM Apr 18th from txt
Raccoon-eyed old men fawn over fool's gold at the empty Cash for Gold stand on their daily mall walk.
10:07 AM Apr 18th from txt
Is it time already, this early into a poor economy, to cash in on their pocket watches and gold cross necklases?
10:09 AM Apr 18th from txt
I wonder if Lincoln gave his favourite floozy a prostitution ring to prove his continued interest in purchase.
2:01 PM Apr 18th from txt
I'm going to see "New Zealand's 4th most popular guitar-based digi-bongo accapella-rap-funk-comedy folk duo" in Kent. Who rocks the party?
3:45 PM Apr 19th from web
Since when was The Streets (Mike Skinner) good again? Recently, on his twitter posted mp3s. Please believe, I didn't expect much from these.
5:03 PM Apr 19th from web
How do you start a successful ice cream shop in a small farm town? Find out next Twit.
6:51 PM Apr 19th from txt
...don't call it an ice cream parlor; call it a Dairy Bar. Closing time is last call for dairy dessert. Brain freezes are the new hangovers.
7:01 PM Apr 19th from txt
Look at those savages walking through the wet grass to avoid the crowds on the cement.
9:55 PM Apr 19th from txt
If theres one way to clear a room after the Flight of the Conchords show, its to play the Ting Tings loudly.
9:56 PM Apr 19th from txt
How long is a 'jiffy'? BW3's pamphlet claims it is 1/100th of a second. I am wasting jiffys by typing this. I will twit again in a jiffy.
11:19 PM Apr 19th from txt
(And then I discovered thieves' cant...)
How dost do my buff. Twittered my noddle off at two dry boots yest. Now, I quibble in the scotch-mist.
about 6 hours ago from web
Synthesis of April: Twitter lowers my writing standards, the Antlers are cool, Age 24 is the Golden Age, Clues aren't quite as cool as the Antlers or White Rabbits, Junior Boys lose some of their cool on their latest album, Dirty Projectors are awesome and I'm projecting them at placing 3rd so far this year (behind Animal Collective and Grizzly Bear, respectively, yet ahead of Phoenix and many great others), Die Hard fans are at a loss for words, perfect rhymes are lame and so is Gil Mantera's Party Dream, old men love shiny things, Flight of the Conchords rock the party.
Fair?
Until next time, make sure you're listening to Dirty Projectors and others. And hopefully I'll post reviews of the shows I've seen lately: Mountain Goats/John Vanderslice, Junior Boys/Max Tundra, Gil Mantera's Party Dream and Flight of the Conchords. The latter of which opened their set with this tune:
Here are some highlights you might've missed (yes, I'm doing the work of filtering for you):
(to promote my last blog):
Chevy Cobalt sales drop 42%. Thanks to theplanetpluto.net, hovercraft sales soar. The future floats like my hope for a new Avalances album.
11:46 AM Apr 2nd from txt
I missed the 'H' in Avalanches. These are the sacrifices of texting twits, and learning to be legit.
7:19 PM Apr 2nd from web
This is when I begin to experiment with rhyming twits.
I'm doing twitter on the shitter; and it should also be mentioned that sleeping on the couch isn't so glamorous either.
10:17 AM Apr 3rd from txt
I saw a profound bumper sticker from a handicapped car that read "Bush... It". Also, My Morning Jacket's "Golden" is still just that.
12:36 PM Apr 3rd from txt
Carlos Santana wants Obama to legalize pot. Carlos, just because we have a cool black president doesnt mean he's in charge of your next fix.
8:06 PM Apr 3rd from txt
I had a dream where I was wearing metallic blue crocs and had become a lamer version of an already lame person.
9:39 AM Apr 4th from txt
I should've submitted this dream to the 'dream bank'. I hope they approve me for a loan tonight.
Now that I'm conscious, I'm listening to the Antlers and feeling a little bit cooler already.
9:40 AM Apr 4th from txt
When exactly is the 'golden age'? For my sake, I hope I reach it in a month at 24: the age they first published Bukowski, so why not me?
12:51 PM Apr 4th from txt
I'm being told that in literary works, the Golden Age typically ends with a devastating event which brings about The Fall. I'm OK with that.
7:48 PM Apr 4th from web
Like the other post-Unicorns project Islands, Clues feels like the fun has been stripped from the affair despite mythical speak of dragons.
11:33 AM Apr 5th from txt
If you work at a bowling alley, would you still go on strike? And if you do, would it be misconstrued as a good thing?
1:57 PM Apr 5th from txt
I like the eerie self-preserving feeling of a sabre-toothed tiger preening in the evening.
11:20 PM Apr 5th from web
So, what's the tweet on the streets? What little twittle makes you giggle while you piddle? And, which is your twit favourite?
11:35 PM Apr 5th from web
Countryside kids trade city conveniences for travelling long distances. Make trade fair, invent a teleport & I'll go anywhere outside Ohio.
2:54 PM Apr 6th from txt
New White Rabbits album produced by Britt Daniel of Spoon is the kick in the teeth that I need and didn't realize I needed.
3:01 PM Apr 6th from txt
If snow were King Kong's blow, I wish he'd insufflate it already. Forget the fighter planes, he'll fall himself and not just for his woman.
8:18 AM Apr 7th from web
And now same-sex marriage has spread to Vermont. It's only a matter of time before it drops down to the phallic region of the US: Florida.
5:35 PM Apr 7th from txt
In my youth, I played Sonic games and read the comic. In my golden years, I listen to Sonic Youth and I've been to a Sonic restaurant once.
5:48 PM Apr 7th from txt
I wonder if submarine sandwhiches taste better below sea level. Oh well, bottoms up.
5:49 PM Apr 7th from txt
@tmtzine "No unfurling" or "climaxing"? New Junior Boys album sounds like most of my dates, only smoother and glossier.
12:09 PM Apr 8th from web in reply to tmtzine
Microblogging is the best thing since Micro Machines.
1:31 PM Apr 8th from txt
Creepy Old Navy mannequins talking about making the beast with two backs makes me go Micro-soft
3:44 PM Apr 8th from web
There's a house on top of the Fort Pit Tunnel, but all I did was walk under a restaurant's funnel to the garbage can on the south side.
1:10 AM Apr 9th from web
What is wrong with this broccoli? It's white...
4:09 PM Apr 9th from txt
Good ideas only arise during monotonous acts like mowing the lawn and using the restroom.
4:59 PM Apr 10th from txt
So, I wonder which filthy restroom Dirty Projectors, Canadian slang for penis(?), wrote their pretty new album in.
5:01 PM Apr 10th from txt
'Text' should never be a verb, so for the next "text the cellie" request I hear, I'll tell them to verb off & find a proper noun that cares.
9:50 AM Apr 11th from txt
(On Easter Day)
For the purpose of themes, listen to Patti Smith's Easter, Man Man's Rabbit Habits, and Dirty Projectors' Bitte Orca only 'cuz it's great.
11:55 AM Apr 12th from web
If "Stillness Is the Move", then this is the groove to set myself in motion in the morning.
9:51 AM Apr 14th from txt
Also, a notable antithesis to Chad VanGaalen's slacker anthem, "Inside the Molecules", that reads: 'I wake up early in the afternoon...'.
9:55 AM Apr 14th from txt
What did one bloodthirsty vampire say to the other in tune to Animal Collective? "When the sun goes down, we'll go out again."
7:28 PM Apr 15th from txt
What do you call yourself if you're a die-hard fan of Die Hard?
6:09 PM Apr 16th from txt
There's a resurgence of bedbugs, but I should be OK. I purchased a surplus of bug-sized beds to set up a bedbug & breakfast & turn a profit.
3:11 AM Apr 17th from txt
What exactly is the mass appeal of an exhibitionist biker band mixed with 80s hair & synth? Gil Mantera's Party Dream: as bad as it sounds.
12:58 AM Apr 18th from txt
Which album from this decade would Somali pirates place at #1? My guess: Original Pirate Material- you're listening to the Streets.
9:13 AM Apr 18th from txt
Raccoon-eyed old men fawn over fool's gold at the empty Cash for Gold stand on their daily mall walk.
10:07 AM Apr 18th from txt
Is it time already, this early into a poor economy, to cash in on their pocket watches and gold cross necklases?
10:09 AM Apr 18th from txt
I wonder if Lincoln gave his favourite floozy a prostitution ring to prove his continued interest in purchase.
2:01 PM Apr 18th from txt
I'm going to see "New Zealand's 4th most popular guitar-based digi-bongo accapella-rap-funk-comedy folk duo" in Kent. Who rocks the party?
3:45 PM Apr 19th from web
Since when was The Streets (Mike Skinner) good again? Recently, on his twitter posted mp3s. Please believe, I didn't expect much from these.
5:03 PM Apr 19th from web
How do you start a successful ice cream shop in a small farm town? Find out next Twit.
6:51 PM Apr 19th from txt
...don't call it an ice cream parlor; call it a Dairy Bar. Closing time is last call for dairy dessert. Brain freezes are the new hangovers.
7:01 PM Apr 19th from txt
Look at those savages walking through the wet grass to avoid the crowds on the cement.
9:55 PM Apr 19th from txt
If theres one way to clear a room after the Flight of the Conchords show, its to play the Ting Tings loudly.
9:56 PM Apr 19th from txt
How long is a 'jiffy'? BW3's pamphlet claims it is 1/100th of a second. I am wasting jiffys by typing this. I will twit again in a jiffy.
11:19 PM Apr 19th from txt
(And then I discovered thieves' cant...)
How dost do my buff. Twittered my noddle off at two dry boots yest. Now, I quibble in the scotch-mist.
about 6 hours ago from web
Synthesis of April: Twitter lowers my writing standards, the Antlers are cool, Age 24 is the Golden Age, Clues aren't quite as cool as the Antlers or White Rabbits, Junior Boys lose some of their cool on their latest album, Dirty Projectors are awesome and I'm projecting them at placing 3rd so far this year (behind Animal Collective and Grizzly Bear, respectively, yet ahead of Phoenix and many great others), Die Hard fans are at a loss for words, perfect rhymes are lame and so is Gil Mantera's Party Dream, old men love shiny things, Flight of the Conchords rock the party.
Fair?
Until next time, make sure you're listening to Dirty Projectors and others. And hopefully I'll post reviews of the shows I've seen lately: Mountain Goats/John Vanderslice, Junior Boys/Max Tundra, Gil Mantera's Party Dream and Flight of the Conchords. The latter of which opened their set with this tune:
Thursday, April 2, 2009
How the Hoverkraft-werks.
Well, March 32nd is over (chalk that one up to Canterbury Tales, where in the Nun's Priest's tale of two fools, Chanticleer and the fox, took place on March 32nd), but not without some of the best Antics since this.
Of course, I began the day by hearkening back to my Rufus Wainwright fandom years with his self-titled album (1998) containing one of his finest tunes: "April Fools". Sure, I would've unwrapped Neutral Milk Hotel's On Avery Island vinyl to spin some "Avery Island/April 1st", but I didn't get to it, okay? I did, however, listen to the track by itself on Hype City Soundtrack.
I have some concerts I've attended lately to report on, but until that develops, it should be reported that I reported false information to gullible Radio-friends. Not to mention that I sent an ill-formed text informing some that "My water just broke. Eep." Most couldn't comprehend that I was on my way to St. E's for being a sleaze (Saint Elizabeth's Hospital, that is), and to deliver my baby. Alas, Mr. Mom, this is not.
I fared better with these texts:
There you have it. As far as I know, he still believes me. I assumed more folks would fact-check on a day of foolishness. Pitchfork rounded up some of the music-related tricksters. Though I'm not a NIN fan, I do agree with Ed Droste and the rest of the geeky universe that this is the cake-topper. And, I admit, I'd listen to it.
Well, I'm off to catch South Park reruns and see if they pulled another Not Without My Anus-sized prank, then sleep. This blog may seemingly only be promoting old favorites in the music realm, so please note that new Balmorhea and Phoenix kick some ass. And I must listen to DOOM, Woods, Harlem Shakes and Super Furry Animals' respective latest albums more. I'm just so captivated by this whole favorite 100 albums of the decade notion that I'm spending more time delving backwards than forging forwards. The Glow, Pt. 2 never quite struck me like it has lately, and shoot me if Mount Eerie isn't a fine follow-up, thematically and otherwise.
Of course, I began the day by hearkening back to my Rufus Wainwright fandom years with his self-titled album (1998) containing one of his finest tunes: "April Fools". Sure, I would've unwrapped Neutral Milk Hotel's On Avery Island vinyl to spin some "Avery Island/April 1st", but I didn't get to it, okay? I did, however, listen to the track by itself on Hype City Soundtrack.
I have some concerts I've attended lately to report on, but until that develops, it should be reported that I reported false information to gullible Radio-friends. Not to mention that I sent an ill-formed text informing some that "My water just broke. Eep." Most couldn't comprehend that I was on my way to St. E's for being a sleaze (Saint Elizabeth's Hospital, that is), and to deliver my baby. Alas, Mr. Mom, this is not.
I fared better with these texts:
"No way... have you been to greenplastic? There's a new Radiohead album expected in spring 2010... I saw the link from another blog. P4K should be on it soon."
"Thom says some new songs were inspired by a book about overpopulation in third world countries, and they collaborated with Liars on a track for a primal sound."
Dan's Reply: Yeah. Thom said something about a collab and new material in a recent interview with Billboard, I believe. First I've heard of a date or album news though."
"Now there's a tentative album title: Exit Strategy. It's a chapter title from the novel. Could this be the best album of the, uh, 10's? The adolescents?"
Dan's Reply: "Maybe this time they'll just put the album on MySpace. Completely free. No vinyl. No cost. Nothing."
"Maybe they will hand-deliver them on earth friendly hovercrafts."
Dan's Reply: "As opposed to those anti-earth crafts I've been hearing about. Yes."
"Well, they are anti-gravity, but pro-earth. Let's put it that way."
There you have it. As far as I know, he still believes me. I assumed more folks would fact-check on a day of foolishness. Pitchfork rounded up some of the music-related tricksters. Though I'm not a NIN fan, I do agree with Ed Droste and the rest of the geeky universe that this is the cake-topper. And, I admit, I'd listen to it.
Well, I'm off to catch South Park reruns and see if they pulled another Not Without My Anus-sized prank, then sleep. This blog may seemingly only be promoting old favorites in the music realm, so please note that new Balmorhea and Phoenix kick some ass. And I must listen to DOOM, Woods, Harlem Shakes and Super Furry Animals' respective latest albums more. I'm just so captivated by this whole favorite 100 albums of the decade notion that I'm spending more time delving backwards than forging forwards. The Glow, Pt. 2 never quite struck me like it has lately, and shoot me if Mount Eerie isn't a fine follow-up, thematically and otherwise.
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