The new Mike Doughty album came out this week. I promptly requested that someone else drive me (the roads here are absolutely awful right now) to the nearest Minnesota based electronic store so that I could pick myself up a copy.
It's good stuff. Doughty never ceases to make me bob every part of my body with his melodies and lyrics that always grab my attention with their borderline nonsensical yet somehow poignant tendencies. Pick it up, totally worth the drive.
I also picked up a live podcast of a Bon Iver concert at the request of Tim. It's, as I had to expect, beautifully soulful and wrenching. It also prompted me to check the iTunes-ness of his rereleased album, where I was shocked to find that it included a new track. I proceeded to download, listen to, and thoroughly enjoy it. At this point, I'm ready to declare Bon Iver my new god.
I have this intense craving to road trip, preferably someplace I haven't been for a significant period of time before. I'm thinking Omaha, St. Louis, Kansas City, or Madison. Chris, Amelie, Joe, Brian and I may hit up Omaha in a month and a half or so for a Mike Doughty concert, which would be incredible. I just need to get off campus and preferably out of Iowa for a weekend or so.
Also, I currently crave pizza.
And to catch up on homework.
2.19.2008
Hypnosis
I was sitting in the Writing Center last night, as I have a lot lately. It's become my room now that I spend almost no time in my sleeping quarters while awake. A few of my friends were around and we were occasionally spicing up our homework with conversations on current campus controversy or other mind stimulating topics. As this happened, I found the most enormous butterfly clip I have ever seen attached to the pocket of Chris' bag. I immediately removed it and began placing it on different parts of my body.
At first this did nothing but cause painfully loud reactions, followed immediately by throwing the clip off of my person. After a while I began finding strategically painful parts of my body and testing to see if I could maintain my composure while it latched on. It wasn't masochistic, okay not that masochistic, it was more out of curiosity.
I've always had a really high pain tolerance. The fact that I could clamp this onto my nose or knuckle while simultaneously continuing conversation wasn't wholly surprising.
I think this says something about me. I've been having issues lately with certain people's reactions to the person that I am. I understand that I have faults, large ones, that I need to work on, as we all do. What I founds was that I like to push limits. I have this craving to learn just how far I can go, then try to push past that. This idea of boundaries seems too safe for me (most of them, at least).
It's like those people who opt for hypnosis rather than anesthetics. A higher form of pain aversion.
So there I was, sitting on a couch in a room designed to make people comfortable, pinching myself with this clip and trying to keep my mind clear and ignore the pain. And I could do it.
At first this did nothing but cause painfully loud reactions, followed immediately by throwing the clip off of my person. After a while I began finding strategically painful parts of my body and testing to see if I could maintain my composure while it latched on. It wasn't masochistic, okay not that masochistic, it was more out of curiosity.
I've always had a really high pain tolerance. The fact that I could clamp this onto my nose or knuckle while simultaneously continuing conversation wasn't wholly surprising.
I think this says something about me. I've been having issues lately with certain people's reactions to the person that I am. I understand that I have faults, large ones, that I need to work on, as we all do. What I founds was that I like to push limits. I have this craving to learn just how far I can go, then try to push past that. This idea of boundaries seems too safe for me (most of them, at least).
It's like those people who opt for hypnosis rather than anesthetics. A higher form of pain aversion.
So there I was, sitting on a couch in a room designed to make people comfortable, pinching myself with this clip and trying to keep my mind clear and ignore the pain. And I could do it.
2.07.2008
I'm Going To Do It All Someday
So I'm sitting here at work, minding my own business, and an attractive female wanders in front of the desk. At the same time, a older man, her senior by at least four years of age, walks in the opposite direction. As they pass, this gent literally turns his head as he continues strolling, staring directly at her lower half. It’s actions like these that give my gender the reputation we have.
I’ve been thinking a lot about sex/gender. Last semester I was called out by the faculty advisor for not writing about female artists enough. The article in question was a gauntlet of sorts on five different poetry books. It was thrown together last minute, filled with books I had recently perused or could speed through quickly, and no, none of the poets were female (though one was S√he by Saul Williams, a collection of female centered poetry, though written by a man). I was a bit upset, but the fact is that she had a point. I am lacking in female artistry works.
I have since started a weekly three musician review per week in the paper and I’ve made sure to include at least one female per week. This is actually becoming a difficult task for me, as I’m finding it harder (not hard, just harder) to pick out female artists from my library of music. I cross my fingers and hope that this has to due with the industry and the simple fact that there are more male musicians than female. I know there are a lot of females in the biz, and I would like to hear from more.
On that note, I’m not an Ani DiFranco fan. Just not really my style. “Untouchable Face” is a great song, mainly because of memories I have tied to it. Beyond that, I just can’t get into her stuff.
Also, the Vagina Monologues are coming up on campus. Now, I support the Monologues, don’t get me wrong, I just don’t find them to be especially powerful. It’s a mixture of comedic and absolutely tragic accounts of female struggles. Somehow, hearing this is supposed to further the feminist cause. I know that I’m a male and that I can’t understand what it’s like to be a woman, I just don’t see this as what it’s advertised as. I have a feeling one gets more out of being a part of the Monologues than merely seeing them. That makes sense to me.
The paper ran an article on this production as our lead story this week. I have major issues with some of the things that were said. One quote from a student here states, “The men who are most comfortable with themselves and their own sexuality really enjoy the show.” This seems to insinuate that any man who doesn’t enjoy the show doesn’t know themselves as may not have a grasp on their own sexuality. I went last year and enjoyed my time, I can’t lie. But as I said, it didn’t move me. I didn’t feel more empowered or that I needed to fight harder afterwards. I am also very comfortable with myself and my sexuality. Even if this quote doesn’t necessarily apply to me, I still have issues with it. It’s a blanket statement that takes little more than the feminist perspective into view.
I consider myself a feminist just as much as I consider myself an equal rights activist for race, sexual orientation, class, and any other issue. I promote and will gladly fight for equality amongst all people of this planet. It’s the strictness, the anger in some extreme feminists, as well as activists in other fields, that makes me step back and reevaluate the situation. These people (I wouldn’t consider the owner of the above mentioned quotes an extremist, for the record) seem to alienate anyone who isn’t fighting as passionately, loudly, and publicly as they are, regardless of the other’s beliefs.
I am a feminist, but I won’t fight any harder for feminist rights than I will for gay, minority, lower-class, immigrant, environmental, or animal rights. That doesn’t mean I won’t fight, because I will. I simply refuse to step beyond the line of rational movement into the realm of extremism. It’s proven in the past to be nothing by detrimental.
I miss fighting. My poetry class this week had a short conversation about how, back in the 60s, students were in the streets protesting and making their voices heard. This attitude seems to be lacking my generation, replaced by a glaze of apathy and disregard. I want to fight. I want to march down streets and scream for an end to war and genocide and classism and all other -isms. I don’t want to slip into the irrational radicalism I just spoke against, I just want to make my voice known. My generation seems to be missing a lens to focus us. We have more and more issues arising every day and I have a feeling we don’t know where to begin in speaking out against them. I get tempted to stop my studies and take a year to become an activist, hitting the illnesses I see in our society and finding ways to combat them. Realistically, I don’t see this happening for the same reasons that plague all of my generation. I want to fight, I just don’t see how to work it. The rebel, the screamer, the rioter in me wants out.
I’ve been thinking a lot about sex/gender. Last semester I was called out by the faculty advisor for not writing about female artists enough. The article in question was a gauntlet of sorts on five different poetry books. It was thrown together last minute, filled with books I had recently perused or could speed through quickly, and no, none of the poets were female (though one was S√he by Saul Williams, a collection of female centered poetry, though written by a man). I was a bit upset, but the fact is that she had a point. I am lacking in female artistry works.
I have since started a weekly three musician review per week in the paper and I’ve made sure to include at least one female per week. This is actually becoming a difficult task for me, as I’m finding it harder (not hard, just harder) to pick out female artists from my library of music. I cross my fingers and hope that this has to due with the industry and the simple fact that there are more male musicians than female. I know there are a lot of females in the biz, and I would like to hear from more.
On that note, I’m not an Ani DiFranco fan. Just not really my style. “Untouchable Face” is a great song, mainly because of memories I have tied to it. Beyond that, I just can’t get into her stuff.
Also, the Vagina Monologues are coming up on campus. Now, I support the Monologues, don’t get me wrong, I just don’t find them to be especially powerful. It’s a mixture of comedic and absolutely tragic accounts of female struggles. Somehow, hearing this is supposed to further the feminist cause. I know that I’m a male and that I can’t understand what it’s like to be a woman, I just don’t see this as what it’s advertised as. I have a feeling one gets more out of being a part of the Monologues than merely seeing them. That makes sense to me.
The paper ran an article on this production as our lead story this week. I have major issues with some of the things that were said. One quote from a student here states, “The men who are most comfortable with themselves and their own sexuality really enjoy the show.” This seems to insinuate that any man who doesn’t enjoy the show doesn’t know themselves as may not have a grasp on their own sexuality. I went last year and enjoyed my time, I can’t lie. But as I said, it didn’t move me. I didn’t feel more empowered or that I needed to fight harder afterwards. I am also very comfortable with myself and my sexuality. Even if this quote doesn’t necessarily apply to me, I still have issues with it. It’s a blanket statement that takes little more than the feminist perspective into view.
I consider myself a feminist just as much as I consider myself an equal rights activist for race, sexual orientation, class, and any other issue. I promote and will gladly fight for equality amongst all people of this planet. It’s the strictness, the anger in some extreme feminists, as well as activists in other fields, that makes me step back and reevaluate the situation. These people (I wouldn’t consider the owner of the above mentioned quotes an extremist, for the record) seem to alienate anyone who isn’t fighting as passionately, loudly, and publicly as they are, regardless of the other’s beliefs.
I am a feminist, but I won’t fight any harder for feminist rights than I will for gay, minority, lower-class, immigrant, environmental, or animal rights. That doesn’t mean I won’t fight, because I will. I simply refuse to step beyond the line of rational movement into the realm of extremism. It’s proven in the past to be nothing by detrimental.
I miss fighting. My poetry class this week had a short conversation about how, back in the 60s, students were in the streets protesting and making their voices heard. This attitude seems to be lacking my generation, replaced by a glaze of apathy and disregard. I want to fight. I want to march down streets and scream for an end to war and genocide and classism and all other -isms. I don’t want to slip into the irrational radicalism I just spoke against, I just want to make my voice known. My generation seems to be missing a lens to focus us. We have more and more issues arising every day and I have a feeling we don’t know where to begin in speaking out against them. I get tempted to stop my studies and take a year to become an activist, hitting the illnesses I see in our society and finding ways to combat them. Realistically, I don’t see this happening for the same reasons that plague all of my generation. I want to fight, I just don’t see how to work it. The rebel, the screamer, the rioter in me wants out.
1.23.2008
Sniffles
Ahhh...my favorite mid-winter friend has returned yet again. In the past we have grown close, cuddling next to each other when the wind blows to coldly. We have found solace in the fact that, no matter what the snow tried to cover, it cannot hide our bond.
I have a sinus infection.
There are countless reasons why I get sick every year. They are the exact same things that doctors warn you about. I don't get nearly enough sleep on a nightly basis, I have a terrible diet, I am (at least this semester) far too stressed for my own good, I have no free time to make relaxing good use of, and I rarely exercise.
On the whole, this doesn't bother me.
I have grown accustomed to my yearly reunion with this little fellow. We take naps together, sip tea and orange juice while wrapped in fleece blankets, and collectively moan every time a breeze tries to push us apart.
This, however, does not excuse Mr. Infection's rude behavior. I don't enjoy having to skip class because my head is too heavy to lug around. My nose has become sore and blushed from the countless amount of nasal tissue (or toilet paper for the collegiately challenged) that has scraped
against its soft exterior. More than anything, I despise it keeping me awake at night. The last few nights have been accompanied by constant stirring, waking up at almost hourly intervals, and, my assumption would be, a less than ecstatic roommate.
So this is my plea. As close as we have grown, I am now asking you, Mr. Sinus Infection, to vacate my body. Pack up, eviction notice has been posted.
Now...where's my Sudafed?
I have a sinus infection.
There are countless reasons why I get sick every year. They are the exact same things that doctors warn you about. I don't get nearly enough sleep on a nightly basis, I have a terrible diet, I am (at least this semester) far too stressed for my own good, I have no free time to make relaxing good use of, and I rarely exercise.
On the whole, this doesn't bother me.
I have grown accustomed to my yearly reunion with this little fellow. We take naps together, sip tea and orange juice while wrapped in fleece blankets, and collectively moan every time a breeze tries to push us apart.
This, however, does not excuse Mr. Infection's rude behavior. I don't enjoy having to skip class because my head is too heavy to lug around. My nose has become sore and blushed from the countless amount of nasal tissue (or toilet paper for the collegiately challenged) that has scraped
against its soft exterior. More than anything, I despise it keeping me awake at night. The last few nights have been accompanied by constant stirring, waking up at almost hourly intervals, and, my assumption would be, a less than ecstatic roommate.
So this is my plea. As close as we have grown, I am now asking you, Mr. Sinus Infection, to vacate my body. Pack up, eviction notice has been posted.
Now...where's my Sudafed?
1.18.2008
Re:Search
I turn my mind, occasionally, to love. At this stage in my life, as for most people of my age, I have established the fact that I know nothing about love. I have had experiences with the word love: my family, my friends, and a couple of the people I spent large amount of time holding hands with when I was younger. This idea of a romantic love, something so deep it cannot be explained, is still foreign to me.
That I do not understand this does not concern me. I'm a sophomore in college, and I have no plans for settling down. At the same time, I adore being in a relationship. The euphoria, camaraderie, excitement, and insecurities that ring-around-the-rosy and encapsulate budding romance thrills me to no end. I also feel a bit more like myself when there’s that special person, one who exceeds regardless of how slightly, the title of friend.
I am single, happy, but definitely keeping my eyes open.
I have also found, through keeping a skeptic eye on myself, that I can establish an idealistic crush in an instant that can trail me for ages. These can be focused on friends, acquaintances, coworkers, performers, baristas, secretaries, or essentially any girl I pass who is singing. A friend and I had a conversation through letters a few months ago about how she had a tendency of developing harmless crushes an a heartbeat that could easily dissipate when needed. I see this in myself.
Perhaps I am confusing infatuation for admiration or a simple want to converse. I’ve seen Too Much Light Makes The Baby Go Blind in Chicago three times now, and each time I have been mystified by the strength, forwardness, honesty, and pride that I have found in one of their members. Does this mean that I would like to become in someway romantically involved with this person? No. I simply want to sit down with her and two cups of coffee and absorb everything she has to say.
There are others that fit into this category.
I say all of this because my relationship status has been the subject of conversation lately. Times it has been brought up by myself, times by others. I’ve been asked why I find it so hard to find a girl on a small liberal arts college campus where I am one of few males known for being extremely outgoing, humorous, and (to a degree) confident (I hate myself for even typing that). One person even brought to my attention that a lot of what girls look for is in facial expressions, so I should watch how I position my features while speaking.
All of this has me very aware of myself, something I find completely unnerving.
The facts are: I am loud, somewhat obnoxious, eccentric, liberal, radical, socially deviant, creative, overweight, near sighted, passionate, eager, supportive, sarcastic, demeaning, introspective, brutally honest, often dishonest, judgmental, uncaring, apathetic, devoted, regretful, loving, confused, isolated, out of place, teddy bear-ish, masked, serious, lazy, completely insane, logical, satirical, disrespectful, stubborn, argumentative, begrudging, hopeful, optimistic, a Johnson, a Bobst, a Smolinski, and many more. I wear brightly colored button down shirts or baggy, earth toned sweaters, knit “newsy” caps or trucker hats, skate shoes or blue and yellow basketball shoes. I’m an English and Creative Writing major who is finding it increasingly difficult to read and write for class. I second guess almost everything I do while rarely thinking it over first, and I constantly let the people closest to me know both how much I love them and how easy I find it to tear them down. I try harder than I know. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.
I have not typed this out of loneliness, sorrow, self deprecation, or to be told by anyone that “there are plenty of fish in the sea” or that I “really am a good person.” I said this merely because I wanted to.
I find solace in the fact that I will never stop examining myself.
I hope you can too.
That I do not understand this does not concern me. I'm a sophomore in college, and I have no plans for settling down. At the same time, I adore being in a relationship. The euphoria, camaraderie, excitement, and insecurities that ring-around-the-rosy and encapsulate budding romance thrills me to no end. I also feel a bit more like myself when there’s that special person, one who exceeds regardless of how slightly, the title of friend.
I am single, happy, but definitely keeping my eyes open.
I have also found, through keeping a skeptic eye on myself, that I can establish an idealistic crush in an instant that can trail me for ages. These can be focused on friends, acquaintances, coworkers, performers, baristas, secretaries, or essentially any girl I pass who is singing. A friend and I had a conversation through letters a few months ago about how she had a tendency of developing harmless crushes an a heartbeat that could easily dissipate when needed. I see this in myself.
Perhaps I am confusing infatuation for admiration or a simple want to converse. I’ve seen Too Much Light Makes The Baby Go Blind in Chicago three times now, and each time I have been mystified by the strength, forwardness, honesty, and pride that I have found in one of their members. Does this mean that I would like to become in someway romantically involved with this person? No. I simply want to sit down with her and two cups of coffee and absorb everything she has to say.
There are others that fit into this category.
I say all of this because my relationship status has been the subject of conversation lately. Times it has been brought up by myself, times by others. I’ve been asked why I find it so hard to find a girl on a small liberal arts college campus where I am one of few males known for being extremely outgoing, humorous, and (to a degree) confident (I hate myself for even typing that). One person even brought to my attention that a lot of what girls look for is in facial expressions, so I should watch how I position my features while speaking.
All of this has me very aware of myself, something I find completely unnerving.
The facts are: I am loud, somewhat obnoxious, eccentric, liberal, radical, socially deviant, creative, overweight, near sighted, passionate, eager, supportive, sarcastic, demeaning, introspective, brutally honest, often dishonest, judgmental, uncaring, apathetic, devoted, regretful, loving, confused, isolated, out of place, teddy bear-ish, masked, serious, lazy, completely insane, logical, satirical, disrespectful, stubborn, argumentative, begrudging, hopeful, optimistic, a Johnson, a Bobst, a Smolinski, and many more. I wear brightly colored button down shirts or baggy, earth toned sweaters, knit “newsy” caps or trucker hats, skate shoes or blue and yellow basketball shoes. I’m an English and Creative Writing major who is finding it increasingly difficult to read and write for class. I second guess almost everything I do while rarely thinking it over first, and I constantly let the people closest to me know both how much I love them and how easy I find it to tear them down. I try harder than I know. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.
I have not typed this out of loneliness, sorrow, self deprecation, or to be told by anyone that “there are plenty of fish in the sea” or that I “really am a good person.” I said this merely because I wanted to.
I find solace in the fact that I will never stop examining myself.
I hope you can too.
1.09.2008
Top Ten Albums of 2007
Rolling Stone? Pitchfork? Spin? Sure, these publications rake in millions of dollars due to their well established knowledge of the music industry, but what do they really know? I have a blog, which is free to operate, and earns me a meager income of absolutely nothing. However, it does afford me the opportunity to publish my thoughts with alongside those of the big boys (thank you net neutrality). Thus, I present unto you, my version of the top ten albums of 2007.
10) Elvis Perkins – Ash Wednesday – February 20
The debut album from this bicoastal folk-rocker did not take the world by storm (a common trend for this list). However, it did stamp the college scene for a good portion of early ’07. Maybe it’s because Ash Wednesday sounds like a cross between late John Lennon and Neutral Milk Hotel’s On the Aeroplane Over the Sea. Maybe it’s because Perkins’ voice grasps the sorrow that clutches at the insides of anyone in earshot. This album is the honest soundtrack to one of the most tragic events in a person’s lifetime: the death of a parent. With the first half of this album written prior to the passing of his mother and the second half coming after, this record takes a sudden turn in mood. This shift feels skillful and real, avoiding any awkward compilation. For those who have already absorbed and enjoyed this album, Perkins has rerecorded the lead single, “All the Night Without Love” with his band, Elvis Perkins in Deerland, and producer Chris Shaw (of Bob Dylan, Lou Reed, and Public Enemy fame), and the new version is available on iTunes.
Favorite Tracks: “All the Night Without Love” and “May Day!”
9) Sage Francis – Human the Death Dance – May 8
The pride of
Favorite Tracks: “Good Fashion” and “Going Back to Rehab”
8) Panda Bear – Person Pitch – March 20
I’ll be honest, I got this album after reading about in on a music blog (Colour Me Impressed, check the “Procrastination Relievers” section for a link), listened through it, and didn’t touch it again for months. Then, in research for a top ten I have to put together for the campus newspaper, I saw it topping many a list. That sparked a re-listening, which subsequently sparked a renewed interest. This definitely wins the award for the most experimental record on the list. Panda Bear, a founding member of Animal Collective, and known to his family as Noah Lennox, has now released three solo albums under his stage moniker. This is, by far, the most accessible of his releases, which is saying something. The album starts off with a clapping backed, echo ridden track that suddenly drops into a digital drone, which then takes listeners into the foggy, unsettling mood that carries through the remainder of the album’s seven songs. While this is far from an easy listen, it is worth every second.
Favorite Tracks: “Comfy in Nautica” and “Good Girl/Carrots”
7) Bright Eyes – Cassadaga – April 10
Though one of the most highly anticipated albums of 2007, this record seemed to drop from the public spectrum quickly. This should come as no surprise. Though Bright Eyes has maintained constant alternative attention (even debuting at number four on the Billboard 200 with this release), Conor Oberst and company have never been able to step into mainstream light. Cassadaga is, like every release before it, nothing like its predecessors. The first album since the dual release of Digital Ash in a Digital Urn and I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning was thought to be a reunion of the electronic and acoustic elements of Bright Eyes’ music. Those expecting that were handed quite the surprise with the first single, “Four Winds,” which widely represented the new record’s sound: alt-country western. Packed with fiddles, organs, and enough vocal contributors to make the Polyphonic Spree look understaffed, Cassadaga, more country western than alt-country, helped restore college radio’s faith in roots music. But don’t fret, there is no doubt that this is still Bright Eyes. Though the overall feel is very western, there are constant, subtle electronic undertones that allow this record to breathe as a unique piece.
Favorite Tracks: “Four Winds” and “Middleman”
6) Dan Wilson – Free Life – October 16
How Dan Wilson found the time to record a solo album while also producing Mike Doughty’s 2005 release Haughty Melodic and his upcoming release Golden Delicious is beyond me. Oh wait, he’s been working on it since before 2005? Oh, so that’s how he found the time. Anyways, completely worth the wait. Former Semisonic frontman,
Favorite Tracks: “Free Life” and “Cry”
5) Against Me! – New Wave – July 10
I know, it isn’t like Against Me!’s old stuff. I don’t care. I picked up New Wave after being told to by, essentially, everyone whose musical taste I trust. They earned my trust. This is far from the grit and grime that overwhelmed their classic, Reinventing Axl Rose. As Ausie singer/songwriter Ben Lee said on his blog when he decided to cover the entire album, “it’s unmistakably a pop masterpiece.” It’s still edgy, it’s still angry, and it’s still as wordy as everything else Tom Gabel has written. The song structures hint, and the story telling lyrics point towards, what Gabel calls a more optimistic view of the world. “Sell-out!” criers can scream all they want, but Gabel will still sound better doing it himself.
Favorite Tracks: “The Ocean” and “New Wave”
4) Brother Ali – The Undisputed Truth – April 10
The Twin Cities hip-hop scene knew it would have a good year the instant Brother Ali announced he had a record to release. The Undisputed Truth is, without question, the most candid, lingering, sincere rap record I have ever heard. I’ve heard people claim this record as the very definition of underground hip-hop: soulful, truthful, and with a flow that could make the
Favorite Tracks: “Truth Is” and “Ear to Ear”
3) Aesop Rock – None Shall Pass – August 28
Welcome back, Mr. Rock. Four years since his last full album, Aesop Rock comes back with an album that crushes anything else he’s ever touched. “Keep Off the Lawn,” the album’s opener is the reintroduction fans have been waiting for. Producer extraordinaire Blockhead returns, crafting half the album including, winner of best beat of the year award, the title track. Aesop’s voice is, as always, hypnotizing, and the higher production value only adds to that entrancement. What really gives this album the push over Brother Ali is the final track. “Coffee” features John Darnielle of the folk project The Mountain Goats, a collaboration no one saw coming. As outstanding as the song is, the hidden track “Pigs” is equally impressive. Backed by a kazoo, Aesop Rock wraps up his best work in a style that only works for him.
Favorite Tracks: “None Shall Pass” and “Coffee”
2) Iron & Wine – The Shepherd’s Dog – September 25
Sam Beam outdoes himself every time he steps into a studio. This record, however, takes a leap of immeasurable height from anything in his previous catalog. Iron & Wine’s third full release sounds nothing like the last, but a clever listener could see this coming from their last EP, 2005’s Woman King. The heavy reliance on unique percussive elements and dense instrumentation returns hear, with Beam’s effortless, floating vocals resting on top. His guitar playing has improved dramatically, this album being laden with alternative tunings and picking patterns. The motif of dogs only serves to further unite this already beautiful stream. There isn’t a miss anywhere near this record. From the opening of the welcoming “Pagan Angel and a Borrowed Car,” to the soul emptying closer, “Flightless Bird, American Mouth,” Beam breathes with nature’s lungs.
Favorite Tracks: “Boy with a Coin” and “Wolves (Song of the Shepherd’s Dog)”
1) Bon Iver – For Emma, Forever Ago
The diligent reader will notice that there is no release date listed for this record. That’s because it was self released by Mr. Justin Vernon himself, aka Bon Iver.
Favorite Tracks: “Skinny Love,” “Re: Stacks,” and “Blindsided.”
Runners Up:
Wilco – Sky Blue Sky
The opening to this record is gorgeous and saddening at the same time. Jeff Tweedy and company released their simplest album to date, but Elvis Perkins was just a little more cohesive. I still say that I liked these guys best on the Mermaid Avenue albums.
Rilo Kiley – Under the Blacklight
Though it has its moments, too many misses keep this record off the list. Jenny Lewis and friends are still incredibly talented musicians, I just don’t understand a couple of these songs.
Atmosphere - Sad Clown Bad Summer/Fall/Winter #8/9/10They're good, but they're EPs. Check 'em out. New one comes out in Spring '08 as well.
Biggest Disappointment:
Say Anything – In Defense of the Genre
My close, personal friends will tell you how I feel about double disc releases. Don’t release them! They’re called b-sides. Cut them, release one solid disc like 98% of albums ever. Max Bemis clogged this record with guest appearances (of practically everyone in the genre of pop-punk) and this album never got to breathe.
Looking Forward To:
New Doomtree Releases
These five Twin Cities rappers are the best collective I’ve ever heard. Their full crew album should hit shelves in the spring, followed by an avalanche of solo efforts.
Mike Doughty – Golden Delicious
This guy’s incredible. End.
New Mountain Goats Record
It’ll be great. Fingers crossed.
Atmosphere - When Life Gives Lemons, You Paint That Shit Gold
It's gonna be sooo good.
1.05.2008
There's a Room Where the Light Won't Find You
I had a somewhat massive amount of dental work done a few days ago. By somewhat massive, of course, I mean three fillings. This caused my teeth to scream in reaction to the small bit of ice cream I just attempted to devour. Some may call me unintelligent for complaining about the pain that my teeth cause me while eating ice cream when they were only drilled into because of my assuredly overly sugary diet and my acknowledged poor dental hygiene. Trust me, I know this is my fault. I simply felt it was a good way to start of this post. By the way, I go in for two more fillings (yea, five total) on Tuesday. I brush twice daily now. And floss.
iTunes may be, in my opinion, the greatest invention of all time. Hear my out, I know there are a lot of Mac haters out there, but...it categorizes my music so efficiently! I love the ease with which I can travel from jazz to hip hop, create playlists (or allow the genius the program is to create one for me!), listen to podcasts (podcasts!), as well as purchase, for a fairly decent price, some rather hard to find albums. For a music whore such as myself, how could I not love this? Sure, it takes up a lot of RAM on my laptop since I'm not running it on a Mac, but it's so many eons past Windows Media Player that I don't see why I wouldn't prefer it. Also, it is the only thing that works with my iPod, which literally never leaves my side.
The Bad Plus have so thoroughly invaded my life that I can no longer run from it. I do not mind. I blame it on their covers, mainly of "(Them from) Chariots of Fire" and "Everybody Wants to Rule the World." As previously mentioned, and in all likelihood, previously known, music is one of my strongest passions. This results in me constantly having music stuck in my head. I hum it, I imagine the lyrics scribed onto my eyelids, I dissect every part of the song I can wrap my mind around. This usually results in a bit of deconstruction, leaving me with skeletal forms of songs masquerading through my synapses. This is what Bad Plus covers sound like to me. They take (usually) rock songs, and form them into jazz songs through what I can only imagine is days of menacing and acute tweaking and turning until the song can breathe again in its new form, while still existing as its original self.
I've noticed that I write this blog as though the people reading it are people I have never come into contact with in my life, when in reality the only people reading it are, probably, the people who know me best. I don't care, though. I have hopes that one day, many people who know nothing about me will become as addicted to this blog as I have become to, say, PaperGirl or Super Special Questions Blog. True, these blogs are owned by people who are, to an extent, in the public eye (a playwright/poet/actress and a musician/poet) and I am still a student, but I can dream, right? Is that egotistical of me? Probably.
By the way, Mr. or Ms. Reader, please do peruse the blogs listed to the right of this one. These are my friends and my drugs, the pages I turn to when I need to think about someone's life other than my own. These people tell their stories in unique, engrossing, and completely addictive ways. I literally cannot stop reading them.
Four more Vonnegut books to go, all four of which I have already ordered online and should be arriving shortly. Goal of 17 Vonnegut books has been achieved. Does it count as a goal if it's required for a course? Eh, don't rain on my parade.
The beard is making a comeback. Be prepared.
iTunes may be, in my opinion, the greatest invention of all time. Hear my out, I know there are a lot of Mac haters out there, but...it categorizes my music so efficiently! I love the ease with which I can travel from jazz to hip hop, create playlists (or allow the genius the program is to create one for me!), listen to podcasts (podcasts!), as well as purchase, for a fairly decent price, some rather hard to find albums. For a music whore such as myself, how could I not love this? Sure, it takes up a lot of RAM on my laptop since I'm not running it on a Mac, but it's so many eons past Windows Media Player that I don't see why I wouldn't prefer it. Also, it is the only thing that works with my iPod, which literally never leaves my side.
The Bad Plus have so thoroughly invaded my life that I can no longer run from it. I do not mind. I blame it on their covers, mainly of "(Them from) Chariots of Fire" and "Everybody Wants to Rule the World." As previously mentioned, and in all likelihood, previously known, music is one of my strongest passions. This results in me constantly having music stuck in my head. I hum it, I imagine the lyrics scribed onto my eyelids, I dissect every part of the song I can wrap my mind around. This usually results in a bit of deconstruction, leaving me with skeletal forms of songs masquerading through my synapses. This is what Bad Plus covers sound like to me. They take (usually) rock songs, and form them into jazz songs through what I can only imagine is days of menacing and acute tweaking and turning until the song can breathe again in its new form, while still existing as its original self.
I've noticed that I write this blog as though the people reading it are people I have never come into contact with in my life, when in reality the only people reading it are, probably, the people who know me best. I don't care, though. I have hopes that one day, many people who know nothing about me will become as addicted to this blog as I have become to, say, PaperGirl or Super Special Questions Blog. True, these blogs are owned by people who are, to an extent, in the public eye (a playwright/poet/actress and a musician/poet) and I am still a student, but I can dream, right? Is that egotistical of me? Probably.
By the way, Mr. or Ms. Reader, please do peruse the blogs listed to the right of this one. These are my friends and my drugs, the pages I turn to when I need to think about someone's life other than my own. These people tell their stories in unique, engrossing, and completely addictive ways. I literally cannot stop reading them.
Four more Vonnegut books to go, all four of which I have already ordered online and should be arriving shortly. Goal of 17 Vonnegut books has been achieved. Does it count as a goal if it's required for a course? Eh, don't rain on my parade.
The beard is making a comeback. Be prepared.
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