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The first time I heard Chumbawamba...

May 2, 2008

It was the summer of 1988. Probably the turning point of my life...or one of them. I was 18 and sitting in the back seat of someone's car. It was probably my car, and I was probably being driven around Chicago by one of my friends, while the rest of the passengers joked and laughed and talked about various things. I had my nose in a book I had just bought at Powell's. I had pulled it at random from the shelves, saw illustrations by Sue Coe, and decided I had to read it. That book was _Narcissism and Death_ by Mariarosa Sclauzero, which is an experimental prose book about the human psyche, love, ethics, beauty, narcissism...and death. ha. It was fascinating to me, because it was written in a sort of ADD skipping from one topic to the next style that seemed to be a salvation in terms of setting an example for a type of novel I could actually write. I have never been very linear...and I am not good at envisioning and bringing to life meticulously accurate story lines from beginning to end with any amount of cohesion.

At any rate, I had my nose in that book when we turned on to Kenmore street. I remember the name of the street because people were talking about Kenmore appliances or something. Maybe the topic of washing machines came up. Maybe someone was talking about duds and suds, the new bar/laundromat that we always talked about going to, but always ended up dragging bags and bags of dirty clothes to my moms house in the suburbs, anyway...on those weekends we would go back for shows at Dirty Nellies and, later, mcGregor's.

So we parked somewhere on Kenmore to visit with my roommates boyfriend Erich "Fish" Blocher, and his roommate Warren "Fish" Fisher. They were two men who shared an apartment and a nickname. Warren was fish for obvious reason, and I believe he played bass for screeching weasel for awhile and was in a band called Ozzfish or The Ozzfish Experience...although I recently chatted with my other old roommate and we can't for the life of us figure out who the Ozz in Ozzfish was. Erich was nicknamed fish for reasons unknown. He was a tall, goofy, John Denvery looking guy with round glasses and a sort of hippie, laid back demeanor. He was living in the other Fish's closet at the time. I remember laying on the pillows on the floor and looking up at the chain that hung from the bare lightbulb in the closet. there was a long string tied to the end of the chain as a means of extension "Because I am too lazy to stand up to turn it off at night." said fish.

And as I lay there, with my nose still in Narcissism and Death, one of the fishes made me a tape of the Chumbawamba lp _Pictures of Starving Children Sell Records_ because I just HAD to listen to it over and over again. And I have. And I still do. It is kind of a masterpiece.

And when I hear Chumbawamba now, I think of that day. I think of being driven, nose in book, refrigerators, washing machines, lightbulbs and fish and fish and fish's closet. And I think of black and white ink drawings and songs about anarchy and I think about Pictures of Starving Children and Narcissism and Death. And the richness and clarity of these memories amazes me always.

Posted at 10:37 AM • Comments (1) • TrackBack

World Leader Pretend Mix

January 29, 2008

I have been in my own little world, so I might as well pretend I am the leader. These are the current songs that compose the soundtrack of my pretend world that I am the pretend leader of:

REM - World Leader Pretend
Grey Matter - Burn No Bridges
Cat Power - Bathysphere
Dirty Three - Deep Waters
Jesus and Mary Chain - Just Like Honey
Eastern Dub Tactic - Brothers and Sisters
Grey Matter - Chutes and Ladders
De La Soul - Held Down (ft. Cee Lo)
Air - The Vagabond (ft. Beck)
Cibo Matto - Le Pain Perdu
The Clash - Bankrobber
Fugazi - Waiting Room
English Beat - I Confess
Jets To Brazil - Resistance Is Futile
The Clash - I'm Not Down

Get the whole mix here: http://www.sendspace.com/file/dsp8oo

Posted at 11:43 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Bird Mix

November 8, 2007

I have finally finished the bird mix. There are so many songs I wasn't able to fit in, I might have to make a bird mix 2. However, my next mix will be songs about or incorporating wind. If you have any suggestions, please send them my way.

Anyway, the playlist is:

Black Wax Machine - Fluttering Free
Low - In Metal
John Fahey & Cul de Sac - Gamelan Collage
Dead Can Dance - Bird
Animal Collective - Tuvin
Dirty Three - Flutter
Wilco - Hummingbird
R.E.M. - King of Birds
Jimi Hendrix - Little Wing
The Beatles - Blue Jay Way
Charlie Parker - Blue Bird
Bob Dylan - Love Minus Zero/No Limit
The Handsome Family - Flapping Your Broken Wings
Coctails - Starling
Spiritualized - Spread Your Wings
Black Wax Machine - Flamingo Sounds

It's available for download, for a limited time, here:

http://www.sendspace.com/file/69000p

If you can't access it there, please feel free to email me: drublood at gmail dot com.

Enjoy!

Posted at 9:50 AM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Low +Charlie Parr @ Mohawk 10/3/2007

October 8, 2007

Went out to see Low last week with my favorite guitar man. It had been a crappy week and I wasn't feeling much like being in public & was worried about bringing guitar man down because he's not fond of being in public either...but LOW. You can't blow off LOW.

So we went, and of course guitar man cheered my ass up because he's so silly and sweet. Or maybe it was the rum and coke...

Or maybe it was the guitar man from Austin, Minnesota on stage hunched over and playing into a box of mics. He explained the invention that aided the muffled quality of his sound by saying he once stuffed a box full of mittens to attain the perfect effect. Some smart ass in the crowd yelled out into the 90 degree air "What are mittens?"

Anyway, he was delightful, and the surprise of seeing a delightful opening act made me squeeze my guitar man's hand in glee and whisper "I LOVE HIM" probably louder than I intended. Just flat out laid back blues slide guitar and grumbled mumbled muffled (mittened) vocals. I love him and I love the irony that his logo appears to be a bear driving a car with a trailer carrying a dead bird attached, since my guitar man is always a bear to me, and our love is like birds.

I have heard that Low often plays to crowds that sit, cross-legged, on the floor. Seemed appropriate to lean and close my eyes through their entire set. I wanted a pillow, but I settled for an arm and even though I was accused of snoring I was wide awake and wide open to the shimmering rhapsody of Low.

For those of you who haven't heard Low...think of the slowest thing you could possibly imagine, then slow it down a notch. My guitar man pointed out to me that it's actually REALLY difficult to play as slow as low. I hadn't thought about it, because I am not a musician and even if I was I would probably play slowly in a bad and untalented way...but with that idea in mind, I have gone back and listened to Low and kind of marveled at the slow and steady and PERFECT rhythm that they keep. That, and the harmonies that made songs about dead people and graves and one-eyed three-legged dogs seem like spiritual hymns. Uplifting.

Was it an understated show? Yes. Was it a quiet show? Indeed. Was it fun? I don't know if fun is the word I would use to describe Low and Charlie Parr. But it was a good way to let go of the tension of the week, and it brought me halfway to recovery, the other half way of which came over pancakes and silly banter with the guitar man, who, as always, was a wonderful companion for another treasured adventure.

Now...if we could only get the guitar man on stage so he could blow people away...but then whose hand would I squeeze and into whose ear would I squeal enthusiastic praise? Meh. I can dream.

Posted at 10:48 PM • Comments (3) • TrackBack

My overabundant twittering of acl fest...

September 16, 2007

You have to read from the bottom to the top, because it's reverse chronological...but that was my acl experience in a nutshell.

drublood Monk ended the day as he began it... By farting in the car. about 1 hour ago from txt

drublood the shuttle at last. Ahhhh... Seatedness. I am so thirsty. about 2 hours ago from txt

drublood In a giant line for the shuttle. Monk was such a great companion today. I am happy. about 2 hours ago from txt

drublood I am totally scared that monk will get lost now. Ha ha. about 2 hours ago from txt

drublood Did i mention how much i love them? about 3 hours ago from txt

drublood I was meant for the stage! Monk doesn't like this one, but i do. about 3 hours ago from txt

drublood He is such a crowd whore! about 3 hours ago from txt

drublood I don't think i have ever heard more unabashed sing alonging. about 3 hours ago from txt

drublood Dracula's daughter... But really... Ha ha. Valencia. about 3 hours ago from txt

drublood God they are so delightfully dorky. about 3 hours ago from txt

drublood Perfect crime about 3 hours ago from txt

drublood It's call and response 101... And the chicks behind me can't hold their cheeb... They are giggling uncontrollably. about 3 hours ago from txt

drublood Oh Yay! Witty banter. about 3 hours ago from txt

drublood He started singing rainbow connection and monk said i don't know this one... 16 military wives. about 3 hours ago from txt

drublood Chris funk is rocking the banjo, Duckers! about 3 hours ago from txt

drublood July july about 3 hours ago from txt

drublood Sporting life. about 3 hours ago from txt

drublood I want to ask monk if he knows what a beautiful love song this is, but i don't want to ruin it for him. Hee. about 3 hours ago from txt

drublood The crane wife one. Weep. I love this one. about 3 hours ago from txt

drublood Oh shit. Monk is arms in the air dude. Dimes laid on your eyes is up. about 4 hours ago from txt

drublood It's decembercise! Colin demands we march in place. about 4 hours ago from txt

drublood Landlord's daughter. about 4 hours ago from txt

drublood I just love it when he acts like a rock star on acoustic. Hee hee. about 4 hours ago from txt

drublood Song two is the island. about 4 hours ago from txt

drublood More mandolin rocking! about 4 hours ago from txt

drublood And much singing along ensues. God i love this band. They are having so much FUN! about 4 hours ago from txt

drublood Monk says oh it's the crane wife three. He is so happy! about 4 hours ago from txt

drublood Phew. He made it back. about 4 hours ago from txt

drublood I can't believe we waited this freaking long and NOW monk decides he has to use the freaking bathroom. about 4 hours ago from txt

drublood Just said to monk of impinging crowd: as long as you can see the screen, i won't have to kick anyone's ass. Ha ha. about 4 hours ago from txt

drublood I never noticed before how much my morning jacket sounds like the flaming lips. about 4 hours ago from txt

drublood Monk is happy where we are for decemberists. No wilco for me. about 5 hours ago from txt

drublood @mellemusic we are back a bit... Should we even try to get closer? about 5 hours ago from txt in reply to mellemusic

drublood Maybe i am a fork, but i think spektor's sweetness is sincere. about 5 hours ago from txt

drublood Now She is playing us, and if monk wasn't here i would totally lose it. I love her. I totally forgot how much. about 5 hours ago from txt

drublood Ok... Now i am feeling all emotional while she plays fidelity. I am joining jason and melle in the acl tear shedding club. about 5 hours ago from txt

drublood Monk thinks she's a little cuckoo and her lips are too red. Ha ha. about 5 hours ago from txt

drublood You know what? Duck amy ducking winehouse. It's so much better to see a real rebel girl having FUN playing music. about 5 hours ago from txt

drublood "Someone next door is fucking to one of my songs." about 5 hours ago from txt

drublood Damn... Regina is playing piano with one hand, percussion with the other... And singing. And monk wonders why people are laughing with delight.

drublood Sorry if i am over tweeting, but the camera work here is superb. Makes it easier to deal with the fact that i can't get anywhere near the stage... about 6 hours ago from txt

drublood Regina is either very happy or very high... Or maybe both. Still too quiet, though. about 6 hours ago from txt

drublood I wish they would crank the sound a bit. Regina sounds great, but quiet. about 6 hours ago from txt

drublood If the woman behind me does not stop popping her ducking gum, i am going to pop HER. about 6 hours ago from txt

drublood No luck on the autograph. I feel like the world's worst mom for not leaving devotchka sooner. Heading to regina spektor. about 6 hours ago from txt

drublood Monk just made the boo boo face when he heard he might not get colin's autograph. I am about to start asking if he can cutsies. about 6 hours ago from txt

drublood We are standing in line with stereotypical nerdy decemberists fans...but they are empowered by the nearness of meloy! about 7 hours ago from txt

drublood Is that a freaking MANDOLIN? He is totally rocking the mandolin! about 7 hours ago from txt

drublood Love the wine bottle as a guitar slide then chugging thing. Wee! What a delightful treat! about 7 hours ago from txt

drublood In my mind, there is nothing sexier than an acoustic guitar being played by a tattooed arm. And i thought it was hot out before! about 8 hours ago from txt

drublood I am loving devotchka. about 8 hours ago from txt

drublood I do believe i shall take a nap right here in the dirt. about 9 hours ago from txt

drublood The national sounds pretty, but the monk is hungry. about 10 hours ago from txt

drublood 2 words: duckin a! about 10 hours ago from txt

drublood I am suddenly wishing i could go back in time and see jesus and mary chain circa 1987 again, and i'm glad i brought ear plugs 4 monk. about 10 hours ago from txt

drublood I am so glad that melle is here with me for this. Yo la is yo lovely. about 10 hours ago from txt

drublood I love how yo la look like they just jumped on to the stage from the audience and started playing. Nothing flashy, just good music. about 10 hours ago from txt

drublood Aw... Tears are in your eyes. Lovely. about 10 hours ago from txt

drublood I left my stupid memory card in my stupid computer. No pictures for me. about 11 hours ago from txt

drublood Inappropriate, my ass! It's HOT and you KNOW IT! about 11 hours ago from txt

drublood Heading over to see yo la TINGo, that band with the furrin sounding name. about 11 hours ago from txt

drublood Melle knows how to get me wet! about 11 hours ago from txt

drublood The kids are insane, the house is a mess, I am feeling socially inept...hahaha. It's time to go to acl fest! about 14 hours ago from web

Posted at 11:35 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Wednesday is Tunesday

August 12, 2007

Tunesday chat this Wednesday, August 15th, 2007

Hi everyone...

For the first week of Tunesday, we will be listening to Axis: Bold as
Love by Hendrix.

Here's how Tunesday will work:

1. You should acquire the selected tunage at some point during the
week. If you want to prepare for the discussion, do whatever listening
or research you wish to do prior to our chat.

2. Also, if you do not already have a yahoo id, you will need one to
participate in the chat. We cannot do group chat with non-yahoo
members (as far as we know...if you know differently, please let us know!)

3. Make sure you add me (Lainieoyst) to your yahoo chat contacts list,
so you can notify me when you log on.

4. On the day of the chat, log on to yahoo IM no later than around
10:15 PM CDT (US), send me an instant message, and I will add you to our group
chat room.

5. We will all begin listening to the album at around 10:30 PM CDT (US), and
hopefully a lively discussion will ensue!

Feel free to email me if you have any questions or suggestions. Thanks!!!

livelifelove
lainie

Join the Tunesday Yahoo Group at:
http://launch.groups.yahoo.com/group/tunesday/

Posted at 2:36 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Fluttering Free...

August 1, 2007

Just posted a gorgeous soundscape by my friend Chris on my Vox account. Go have a listen!

Posted at 8:07 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Sir Richard Bishop/Animal Collective

May 28, 2007

I have decided that Animal Collective, almost as much as Neutral Milk Hotel, sounds like falling in love. But I am getting ahead of myself...

The angels of parking were with us as I somehow managed to get myself and my companion to the show in time in spite of having lost all track of it & getting a late start. Thanks to a harrowing U-turn and, if I may say so myself, flawless parallel park, we managed to get a space within blocks of the club and arrived in time to stand around ordering drinks before Sir Richard Bishop made his appearance. We even managed to stand semi-sort of close. Close enough to see, if I hadn't been compelled to close my eyes through most of his set and just feel the presence of the music and the nearness of my companion. There were moments when I felt like we were maybe the only people in the room. It was magical. The playing was amazing, and Mr. Bishop had a delightful sense of humor, which he surely needed, as the crowd was way less appreciative than they should have been...

What is WITH the kids these days? As the oldest person in the room by far, I wanted to live up to my self-imposed stigma and just SHOOSH everyone. I mean, really...? There is an artist at work on the stage in this medium sized hall, and it is seriously more fun to talk on your phone or loudly to the people around you? Really?

*sigh*

And, while I can't comment on the performance with any amount of technical knowledge, I was delighted by the man. In spite of the background hum, it was such a treat, and I was happy when he cranked it up electric-style and drowned the fucking children out in the end. Score one for the old fart on stage, and the biddy in the audience.

We were busy buying merchandise when Animal Collective took the stage, but we managed to find a spot not too close to a speaker and not too far from the performers. I wish I was taller, but I'm tall enough, I guess. I don't even know how many people were on stage, but I did catch glimpses of the singer dude doing his cute little dance and shrieking, gasping, yelping into the microphone while the computers fucked and moaned samples and beats for our amusement. I saw stars and, yeah, like I said, realized for the first time how much Animal Collective sounds like falling in love. Dunno if my companion would agree, but he smiled a lot and his company was a flawless and necessary component of the evening.

It was really one of those sets that seemed to never end. One song ran into the next and I believe I caught myself dancing at least part of the time, which is rare for me, but ok. Lovely. Also, I caught myself grinning a lot, into the air. Surrounded by all of these sounds and lost, but solidly anchored. I actually didn't recognize a single song until nearly the end when other singer dude said something like "Now we're going to play some old songs" and busted out "Loch Raven" and then, what was it? "Leaf House?" and "We Tigers" and maybe one more that I totally recognized and didn't know the name of. Swoon.

And then it was back to the car in the perfect weather, not a drop of sweat shed all evening in spite of the excitement and thronging crowd and gentle motion. And on home to the best performance of them all as I was serenaded by my favorite musician on my son's cheap and brokeny guitar, much to my (silently) adoring delight...the perfect encore to an understatedly wonderful night.

Posted at 4:57 AM • Comments (2) • TrackBack

Journey to Emoville

May 7, 2007

Rites of Spring was the original emo band. I believe I am 100% correct here. That is my story and I am sticking to it. They were probably the best, too, but that is an opinion and if you disagree...you have inferior taste.

At any rate, I think it was M.K. who told me I needed to listen to Rites of Spring. Back in the winter of 1986? maybe? or 1987? I can't remember exactly when, but I do know that I asked my mom to write a check so I could order the album from Dischord. hahaha.

And when the package arrived, the needle on my record player was broken, and I couldn't listen to it for at least a week. I spent that time memorizing all of the lyrics, which to my 16 year old brain were fucking brilliant works of sheer genius. I'm a little embarrassed to admit that now, but really only a little. They are unabashedly EMO is what they are. Unpretentious, though...not like the crap the kids spew out these days...but maybe that is just me being a crotchedy old lady.

So I was expecting, judging from the lyrics, something that sounded quite a bit like, oh...THE SMITHS. And what I got when I finally was able to replace the needle was a wall of guitar feedback and a vocalist who managed to be both gutteral and screeching in his vocal assaults.

There is a reason why emo is a word that describes (or at least did describe, back in my day) music that is primarily written/sung by men. In fact, I can't think of a single emo band fronted by a woman. If I were to ask my friend Chris the reason, I am certain what he would say is "That's because you bitches are emoing all the damn time." hahahaha. But I don't even have to ask him because A) I know this is what he would say and B) He hates Emo and therefore will never read this and therefore will never know that I put an alleged quote from him in a conversation that never happened in this essay.

At any rate, yeah...there is a reason for emo (or having been) the domain of men, and it's only partially because of what Chris would have maybe allegedly said. It's more because it's the perception of society that emotions are the domain of women, and a man emoting is something that needs to be labeled as such to reinforce it's mythical oddity.

I know I just totally stated the obvious there, but I feel like it must be said, anyway.

But back to Rites of Spring and the caterwauling of the lead singer dude (I just hate it when people put the names of the band members in essays like this...as if anyone really cares what their names are...) My response to the initial listen was much like my response the first time I heard The Jesus and Mary Chain. I had to check and make sure the needle was actually fixed and that I wasn't listening to the sound of my new vinyl being ripped to shreds by a bare tone-arm (that's, you know, a PHONOGRAPH technical term meaning "that little arm-ey thing that the needle rests in") And, in fact, after I realized that what I was hearing was what I was intended to hear...it took me some time to adjust my prediction of what the music would sound like (based on the lyrics.)

That's because it was something totally new. I mean, Saccharine Trust had the same caterwauling lyrics, but they wrote mostly about drugs and, if about love, then in a more obscure sort of way (with, maybe, the exception of "A Human Certainty"...but even that is more of a story than an epic emotional outpouring. Nice fucking crying at the end though! I keep thinking I need to make a mix of music that has good painful crying or shouting or whatnot. "Human Certainty" is on that list, and so is "Drink Deep by Rites of spring...which, oh yeah, is who I am supposed to be writing about right now.) So that is how I KNOW Rites of Spring were the first emo band.

And, like all emo bands worth their salt, they were not long-lived. One album and one 7" and a handful of shows that were, as the story goes, plagued with strange and mysterious disasters...Rites of Spring had a short season. The 7" was a very stripped down affair with none of the assaultive guitar feedback, but I guess a bit of caterwauling. After that, there were a few Emo bands I liked...Moss Icon was good, Jawbreaker. I liked Jawbreaker a lot, but it was more straight-up punk with emo lyrics...already losing that edge of noise. And really I only started to like Jets to Brazil much later and that's just because I have a big crush on Mr. What-see-giggy lead singer and I want him to write love poems about me for the rest of my life. hahaha. Otherwise they would never have interested me.

But, yeah...Rites of Spring were the first. And they are the perfect thing to listen to at the end of a very long, emotionally-charged and riddle week. There is nothing better to keep me from yelping out cries of frustration than listening to that scratchy, pained voice and remembering...fucking a! At least I am not a teenager anymore!

Posted at 1:35 AM • Comments (3) • TrackBack

From the vault

January 17, 2007

I have been iced in here in austin for two days. Today, I dug through a huge bin of zines - transferring them from one storage bin to another. I am hoping to fully organize them this year, for once and for all, and perhaps catalog them so I can at least have bragging rights as having the coolest zine collection on the face of the planet, if not finding a way to scan and make them available online in some form.

At any rate, one of the zines I dug up was an old issue of *my* old zine, bAnal Probe. This one is issue 10 (the penis issue) from some time in 1995 (I guess I went through a spate where I was bad at putting dates on things) and within its pages was a show review I wrote. I thought it would be fun to reprint them here and at the various other places I do such things on the internet...in case anyone is interested in what bands were playing in Austin in 1995, and what I thought about them.

Here goes:

Foetus, Ultra Bide and Halcion

I called the Back Room's answering machine before the show, and the little man in the machine pronounced Foetus (fee-tus) as FO-tus, which sort of cast an ominous pallor on the evening, but the show was only 8 bux, and someone else was driving, so I figured what the hell, I'll go. I sorta sat around in my apartment all day, the first day I've had the place to myself for a long time...and I smoked a bunch of pot because I kept thinking that I needed another hit another hit another hit until I was REALLY hit and could barely stand up much less talk without being reduced to a jello-like giggle machine. It was at that point that Angela knocked at my door and after a frenzied search for my keys, we took off for the show. It felt good to be a passenger.

We got there towards the beginning of Ultra Bide's set. I don't know if it's just Austin or what, but I've gotten in the habit of really not wanting to go to shows until the headlining band or the band I want to see is playing. I haven't seen a decent opening band in a fuck of a long time, so I was sort of disappointed that we got there so far in advance of the time Foetus was due to hit the stage. Boy did I eat my hat over that one.

I walked into the midst of chaotic hubbub that was Ultra Bide. I was wary, but still managed to be completely floored by their performance. Harold said that they reminded him of late '80's heavy metal, but they sounds MORE than that to me. I mean...I was never inspired by heavy metal, but these guys INSPIRED me. It was artistically beautiful and hell lotta cheesy all at the same time. Lots and lots of SWEAT. Balls out flailing guitar/bass/drum attack on my eardrums. All of the members of the band took turns singing, two of them in broken english that just sounded all the better amidst the mayhem. Who the fuck cared what they were saying in their lyrics, though - their stage presence announced every overly-dramatized emotion thy had ever intended to communicate. They were a FUCKING riot to watch. Rock star mega-mania - the bass player threw his ailing instrument down in the middle of one song and just grabbed the mic and ripped into an onslaught of verbal anguish, then spent the better part of 15 minutes after that trying to hook up another bass while the drummer threw his whole body into his kit POUNDING like nobody's business without showing any signs of fatigue. I mean, this man WAILED. And the last number was concluded by the bass player running up to the front of the stage with his crotch grasped firmly (madonna cum Michael Jackson style) and, collapsing against a pole, he moaned "Love me...love me...FUCK ME...FUCK ME...love me...suck me..." until the end, while the drummer threw his entire body into this huge gong next to his drum kit, and falling all over each other pretending to break shit (they are, after all, not YET rock gods, so they can't afford to actually break their equipment, but you get the idea that they really REALLY want to just smash everything to bits.) and staggering off stage completely drenched in sweat.

I had spent the majority of the 20 minutes they were on stage just smiling at the beautiful comedy of it all...not really noticing my surroundings at all, just grinning at the absurdity and having fun...but when the set ended and I wandered looking for my friends I suddenly felt the urge to run home and change out of my black clothes into something lime green. Strange atmosphere...I hadn't seen so many goths since I was in high school and the "dead" look was the in thing...but I don't recall anyone taking it nearly as seriously as these kids. So many fucking dour, bitter, frowny faces. Goddamn.

We went to get something to eat at a cheesy mexican restaurant rather than stay for Halcion's set...which turned out to be a great plan judging from the last few songs we managed to catch. They seemed to really want to be spokesmodels for kim gordon's new fashion line. An angry females singer adorned with a guitar that she strummed a couple of chords on occasionally (and I'll say this for them, at least now I know that if I ever want to sing in a band and not have that awkward bare look that some singers suffer from, I can just drape a gee-tar over my shoulder and pretend I'm an actual musician.) I mean, it's not that they were actually so much bad as just so much unmemorable...unspectacular. Wholly. And sandwiched, as they were, between two incredible bone-crushing assaults, well...I liked their t-shirts, anyway. They had little cherries on them.

There was an inordinate amount of waiting time before Foetus hit the stage. I had seen Wiseblood about 7 or 8 years ago, but never Foetus. And, to tell you the truth, the only two Foetus records I ever got around to buying were Nail and Hole (two incredible records with tons of hilarious references and word plays that totally astounded me in high school and continue to astound me today. Let's face it, the man is reigning champion master of the english language.) But I was expecting a dirty, writhing man to run onstage rubbing his schlong and tonguing the microphone. Instead, I got a Barry Manilow lookalike. He came out in a white blazer with a red tuxedo shirt underneath. Dark glasses and black jeans rounded out his ensemble nicely to give him that "street credibility." Nevertheless, all I could think about was "Copa Cabana" and "Mandy" until they RIPPED into the first song. And the first assault was teh incredible LOUD intensity of the music. It was literally a wall of sound only it was banging itself into my head rather than the other way around. My ears are still buzzing like there are a million bumblebees in my head. But also the lights were spectacular. At certain moments when the beat was just right they would bathe the entire stage and audience in BRIGHT ungodly BRIGHT while light that Rob compared to being directly in the flightpath with a plane coming straight at the middle of your head. And all I could say to that was YES.

One of the more entertaining aspects of the evening, in spite of all of this, was the crowd. It was an odd mix of old-style goths with black hair, spooky clothing and black make-up; industrial goths with their more modern dress style and piercings galore; and heavy metal dudes. Oh god, the heavy metal dudes. One such dude was kind enough to do that thing where, no matter how much space there is in which to unleash whatever manic energy you've stored up from listening to mom yell at you to clean your room, you still have to push around the fringe crowd who are obviously not in the mood for bodily contact. I mean, it's cool to bump into people when there's noplace else to go, but with five miles of oipen floor real estate, this guy was still crowding me out. I gave him a couple of elbow jabs to the ribs, and I think he overheard Harold telling me to go for the balls, so he laid off. After that distraction was eliminated, I was able to more fully concentrate on the other quirky folks surrounding me. The freak of the night award, I think , would have to go to the Hat Girl who stood simpering on the stage next to the speaker. She was doing as (what she probably thought was sexy, but what actually was downright silly) come-hither-Jim-Thirwell snake dance with that pseudo-sexy pout THE ENTIRE TIME not a single cracked grin or ANY change in facial expression for that matter although she did remove the hat and put it back on a couple of times. I didn't really figure that one out, maybe she had choreographed her little dance, and the hat was an integral semaphore in her elaborate mating ritual or something. At any rate, she wanted to get laid, BAD, by the Barry-Manilow impersonator pretending to be Foetus. Later, Angela noted that she left with an uncle Fester lookalike instead. Hah.

And Foetus himself was king of exaggerated charm and grit. He rocked, he rolled, he crooned, he grinded...but he didn't whip out his dick ONCE...didn't even undo his big belt buckle...much to my amazement. But he did get felt up by some of the guys in front of the stage. they kept poking him. Literally...just POKING him - which was another thing I couldn't quite figure out. I mean, first you worship yr idols, then you kill yr idols...but POKE yr idols? Maybe it was some sort of sexual sublimation - a short foray out of the closet for a couple of young burgeoning goth boys. At any rate, (and I didn't witness this, but Harold related the story to me in such pointed detail (er, pardon the pun) that I could surely envision it happening) at one point, while Mr. Foetus was striking one of his many Peter Murphy-esque poses (arms akimbo, head, nodded to one side and knees slightly bent) a hand slowly rose from the crowd, poking finger straight out like an arrow. It slowly but surely inched its way through the smoky air towards its destination then, squiggle squiggle, it rammed into Thirwell's belly button and shot out again suddenly. Foetus took this penetration like a man, though...didn't even break his pose. It must be tough to be such a martyr. He yelled "HAIL SATAN!" into the microphone before the first encore, then came out and played "I can do any GOD DAMN thing I want" with such ferocity that I forgot how silly the whole spectacle was and started getting a little bleary thinking "Well, gosh darn, I do feel pretty empowered. Ain't that the shit. I CAN do any GODDAMN thing I want!" and remembered high school days writing "Change your mind, mind your change" all over my notebooks and folders.

But I'm still pissed that he never sang "Copa Cabana."

Posted at 7:35 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Winter Mix 2006/2007

January 16, 2007

Liner Notes for Winter Mix 2006/2007

Track One
Yin And Yang The Flowerpot Man
Love and Rockets
“The beauty in the hurricane’s eye.”
I am pretty sure this song kept me alive and moving forward during gloomy high school winter days in Chicago. Reminding me reminding me reminding me to find the beauty in the stark machinery of every day life.

Track Two
Only You
Animal Collective (ft. Vashti Bunyan)
“What’s Going on?”
Was it the third time…or the fourth? Serenaded in my bed. Forehead to forehead. Touching for an instant what I will never hold.

Track Three
The Most Excruciating Vibe
Larkin Grimm
Those sounds – amazing. It took a long time for me to get it, but it came to me while driving one day, with the sun angling down glinting off random reflective objects & me without my sunglasses. I was glad for the brightness and color.

Track Four
The Crown Of Love
The Arcade Fire
“Since you gave me a straight answer…”
I love that part where he gets all dramatic. Well, maybe that kind of describes the whole song, but around about where he hits those (or doesn’t hit those) notes and his voice goes all weepy. This is one of my all-time favorite songs. Of ALL TIME. Sometimes…it’s best not to have a fucking straight answer.

Track Five
New Clear Days
The Ex
Who cares what they are saying. This song IS anarchy, wonderful. Chaotic and beautiful. The perfect The Ex song.

Track Six
Baptism
Black Wax Machine
I wish I could find the chat where Chris sent this to me where he goes, all casual like “Oh, I just found this buried in my hard drive.” That man has more talent in his little finger…I swear. What a truly lovely and delightful song.

Track Seven
The Lotus Eaters
Dead Can Dance
mmmmmmm…the perfect accompaniment to lotus eating. I love the drums & rhythm of this song. Moving me towards…who knows what, but somewhere good.

Track Eight
Miles From Nowhere
Cat Stevens
“Lord, my body has been a good friend, but I won’t need it when I reach the end…”
Some might hate me for this selection, but I do still love Cat Stevens. This song reminds me of Harold and Maude, and all of the hundreds of watchings of that movie, trapped indoors for long winter nights.

Track Nine
The Winner Is
Michael Danna/DeVotchKa
Queue up this song, put on your headphones, walk around your neighborhood looking at stuff, pretend like you are in a movie. Remember that life is so fucking sweet, in spite of the melancholy. Or maybe because of it.

Track Ten
Crowning of a Heart
...And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead
“Crescents in her eyes as we gazed away”
Not sure why this song gets to me, but it does. I think it’s the bridge. Why question it? Sorry it’s so loud.

Track Eleven
In The Aeroplane Over the Sea
Neutral Milk Hotel
“And when we meet on a cloud
I'll be laughing out loud
I'll be laughing with everyone I see
Can't believe how strange it is to be anything at all”
Perfect. I played this song over and over and over the day after I last saw my love flash before my eyes.

Track Twelve
Verdant
Black Wax Machine
The Song Formerly Know As “13” is, as I have said, thundering and wincing. Of all of the Black Wax Machine songs I have heard and loved, this is the one that I think best describes it’s creator. And I love it so.

Track Thirteen
Leave
R.E.M.
“I suffer the dreams of a world gone mad
I like it like that and I know it
I know it well, ugly and sweet,
That temper madness with an even extreme.”
This just randomly popped up on my player one day. I think it is a collaboration of R.E.M. and Radiohead, but I am not sure and I have no idea where the song came from. It’s just lovely, though. Especially on headphones. Different, I think, from other R.E.M. tunes. Or maybe I just haven’t been paying enough attention.

Track Fourteen
Leave Me
Kleenex Girl Wonder
“Night always fades into day
But some things don't go away
You can't leave me no matter how hard you try”
Even though it’s a crappyish seque, I couldn’t resist following up “Leave” with “Leave Me.” The first time I heard this song, I was on one of my late-night walks. I was so totally delighted by it (yes, I overuse that word, but for some reason it is the only word that fits in so many cases) I literally fell on the ground I was laughing so hard. Not that I think the song is humorous. It tickles me. I love any song song in which the artist exposes vulnerability – whether it’s the vulnerability of out of range singing or lyrics that are painfully personal. This one just takes the cake in all sorts of ways.

Track Fifteen
Another Song for a Blue Guitar
Red House Painters
“and I barely can play, I don’t like to sing…”
Imagine my surprise when this song first popped up on my random shuffling. Simple, stark…and a Led Zeppelin reference that I never would have recognized on my own. Proving (once again) that the best musicians (and the best people) introduce you to things you never would have discovered on your own.

Track Sixteen
Rain
Tones on Tail
“she said, time to crush this feeling
writing very long letters as soon as it rains”
Another one that reminds me of grey school bus rides to school in my youth. Tracing rivulets streaking the windows looking out on lack of, yet somehow bursting with, color. I am pleased to discover that Tones on Tail have withstood the test of time in my heart and do not sound overly dated.

Track Seventeen
Snowflake
Black Wax Machine
The perfect endcap. Enough said. It’s snowing today in Austin as I write this. It’s a wintery mix.

Download here

Posted at 2:24 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Everything's Fucked

January 15, 2007

I was just listening to Everything's Fucked, and man. Only Dirty Three can make a song called Everything's Fucked so fucking beautiful, you know? What they have done is they've captured that perfect moment when you realize everything's fucked, but you also realize that the fuckedness of everything cultivates a certain freedom...a particular expansiveness. It's that crystal moment in fuckhood where you realize, shit, you got nothing to lose. It's time to start over, and all things are possible.

Just an amazing song. They are such inspiring artists. Like photographers of sound - novelists of music. So much said without a single fucking word.

Posted at 11:37 AM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Collaborations in Sound

January 11, 2007

I got myself an mp3 player for my birthday and am slowly becoming fascinated with the sounds I can create with the voice recorder. When I gave my humble bleatings to my friend Chris Lilly (a solo artist who works under the name Black Wax Machine) he created something amazing and, I think, kind of beautiful. If you can ignore the fact that I sound like a pre-adolescent boy. He is such an amazing artist, that Christopher Lilly. I am glad to know him.

Anyway, here it is. Enjoy.

Posted at 9:46 PM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Love letter

January 11, 2007

I still think this is the most beautiful video ever made:

Posted at 11:54 AM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Flux of Pink Indians

December 30, 2006

I am really REALLY wanting to listen to The Fucking Pricks Treat Us Like Cunts right now, but I only have it on vinyl and no phonograph, so I am settling for Strive To Survive, Causing the Least Suffering possible.

FLUX OF PINK INDIANS "Some Of Us Scream, Some Of Us Shout"
we're all conditioned to think ten tellies are better than one
and to blow this world up ten times is better than to blow it up once
billions spent on destroying the world while millions starve, where did we go wrong?
where did we go wrong? maybe you don't think that this is wrong?

we as one are saying
feed starving people
fuck your bombs

all through our lives we are shoved about
some of us scream, some of us shout
some of us complain, protest
while others smile in ecstasy
why is it accepted as the way to live
our bodies falling through one big sieve
we're sorted out, brushed and combed
some smile, some frown
some reject this way to live
and pay the price to how they exist

who are you?
what are you?
what do you do?
what are you doing?
what are you doing it for?
what are you doing it for?

we can't accept their disrespect
their eyes and bombs that watch over us
their systems creating war
while society breeds hate
and they make out that it's normal
for people to fight and hate
they shove toy guns on impressionable children
their future soldiers of war?
is it too late for us all to change?
have we gone too far?

we as one are saying
we don't want your life no more
fuck off

Good old anarchopunk. Simple. Straight up. No frills. And loud, noisy, angry, and energetic as a good fuck. Well, maybe a good fuck isn't angry...but still...it's totally what I need right now. I got more anger than love right now, anyway. In fact, I'd say a good fuck is lower on my list of priorities than a bunch of pissed off yelling and shouting. And, you know, bitching about the government is a valid and worthwhile method of absolute avoidance.

Posted at 3:11 PM • Comments (1) • TrackBack

Stiff Little Fingers

December 12, 2006

It has been awhile since I last listened to Stiff Little Fingers. Can it be that I haven't really listened to them since I lived in Chicago?

They remind me of my first apartment on Clifton Street, shared with 3-5 other people, the numbers varying according to who among our friends happened to be in need of a place to crash.

And it's not just that I listened to them a lot back than, although I did. It's also the quality of the music. The crisp guitars like the icy air that always managed to penetrate our thin walls, and the vocals, tinny as the neighbors who argued in the apartment underneath ours, muffled as attempts at conversation with chattering teeth bundled in thick scarves iced over from breath condensation.

This is why it makes me shiver to listen to Stiff Little fingers this morning. This is why it warms me.

(Sample Track: Wasted Life)

Posted at 11:02 AM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

This song perfectly describes my mood.

December 3, 2006

I am in love with Neutral Milk Hotel...

In the Aeroplane Over the Sea

What a beautiful face
I have found in this place
That is circling all round the sun
What a beautiful dream
That could flash on the screen
In a blink of an eye and be gone from me
Soft and sweet
Let me hold it close and keep it here with me

And one day we will die
And our ashes will fly from the aeroplane over the sea
But for now we are young
Let us lay in the sun
And count every beautiful thing we can see
Love to be
In the arms of all I'm keeping here with me

What a curious life we have found here tonight
There is music that sounds from the street
There are lights in the clouds
Anna's ghost all around
Hear her voice as it's rolling and ringing through me
Soft and sweet
How the notes all bend and reach above the trees

Now how I remember you
How I would push my fingers through
Your mouth to make those muscles move
That made your voice so smooth and sweet
And now we keep where we don't know
All secrets sleep in winter clothes
With one you loved so long ago
Now he don't even know his name

What a beautiful face
I have found in this place
That is circling all round the sun
And when we meet on a cloud
I'll be laughing out loud
I'll be laughing with everyone I see
Can't believe how strange it is to be anything at all

Posted at 3:13 PM • Comments (1) • TrackBack

The Girl Who's Moving On.

November 15, 2006

Sometimes, you just have to wake up in the morning and play Valentine by Old 97's over and over and over and over again.

It's not the most cheerful song to begin the day with, but it is quite effective.

*****
Valentine

Heartbreak, old friend, goodbye it's me again.
Of late, I've had some thought of movin' in.
Of all the many ways a man will lose his home,
Well, there ain't none better than the girl who's movin' on.

True love, I knew some thought of, some thought of leavin' you.
Bad thoughts I had, when valentines were due.
Of all the many ways a man will break his heart,
Well there ain't none meaner than he pulls his own apart

CHORUS:
Valentine, the destroyer, Valentine, you belong
In the stars, where you are, always rollin' on.
Cried, I've cried till I couldn't carry on.
It's a lonely, lonely feelin' when your Valentine is wrong.
It's a lonely, lonely feelin' when your Valentine is wrong.

Of all the many things that you were countin' on,
Well, there ain't none better than the girl who's movin' on.
No, there ain't none better than the girl who's movin' on.

Posted at 9:06 AM • Comments (2) • TrackBack

Sue's Last Ride

October 14, 2006

Lainie (10/13/2006 10:44:27 PM): this Dirty Three song is so freaking sexy.
Lainie (10/13/2006 10:44:33 PM): ouch.
Lainie (10/13/2006 10:45:04 PM): it like goes
Lainie (10/13/2006 10:45:06 PM): and then it stops
Lainie (10/13/2006 10:45:13 PM): and then it lingers for a bit
Lainie (10/13/2006 10:45:17 PM): and then it goes again
Lainie (10/13/2006 10:45:24 PM): and builds and builds and builds
Lainie (10/13/2006 10:45:26 PM): and, well.
Lainie (10/13/2006 10:45:32 PM): Then it explodes.
Lainie (10/13/2006 10:45:50 PM): in a million different directions.
Lainie (10/13/2006 10:46:25 PM): and then it comes back together again, only faster.
Lainie (10/13/2006 10:46:28 PM): and more intense.
Lainie (10/13/2006 10:47:11 PM): and it actually screeches to a halt.
Chris (10/13/2006 10:47:52 PM): yeah, the thing I don't like about dirty three is that sometimes there is this overly sweet/country esque folk ballady thing that takes over
Chris (10/13/2006 10:47:56 PM): and ruins the good stuff
Chris (10/13/2006 10:47:59 PM): then it goes away
Chris (10/13/2006 10:48:02 PM): back to the good stuff
Chris (10/13/2006 10:48:03 PM): hehe
Lainie (10/13/2006 10:48:19 PM): Well, this one doesn't really have any of that.
Lainie (10/13/2006 10:48:30 PM): maybe it starts off sentimental at the beginning.
Lainie (10/13/2006 10:48:44 PM): But the guy has total violin sex all over the place about 15 seconds in.

Posted at 11:25 AM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Daniel Francis Doyle

September 8, 2006

Well, boobs to all of the stupid stupidheads who didn't want to come out to see Daniel Francis Doyle with me last night. Undeterred, I made my way down to sixth street by myself, found a reasonably good (if a bit secluded for my liking) parking place, and marched my ass over to Emo's.

I kept trying to quell my late-for-things anxiety by repeating the mantra "It's a rock and roll show...those NEVER start on time." and although I did manage to quell my anxiety, I was WRONG.

It was 10:10ish when I arrived, and Mr. Doyle had already worked up a frothy sweat. The sparse crowd was all standing 20-30 feet away from the stage. I think they were somewhat taken aback...although they did applaud enthusiastically.

Let me describe DFD to you. The man...is amazing. He basically plays a guitar loop, maybe a few of them. Records it. Then seats himself gingerly at his drum kit, with one shoe off and one shoe on, and proceeds to pound the living shit out of his drums, moan and yell and emote into his microphone, and every once in awhile, with precision accuracy, cues the guitar loop with a foot pedal operated by his unshod foot. I guess he needs extra sensitivity in that foot because the sounds he produces are quite amazing. It is difficult to believe that one person can accomplish what he accomplishes.

But more than the musicianship is the fucking raw sincerity of this man who is sitting there nearly falling over himself with the energy that eventually gets transferred to the drums. And his words. And the sweat. And the heavy breathing. It is sexy and honest and I don't even care whether or not you like the music you cannot ignore this artist.

People in the audience were at times even uncomfortable. During some of the more raw moments in one of the songs, some people laughed. I don't believe Daniel Francis Doyle is joking around, but sometimes you have to smile at someone who is spilling himself all over his drum set, trying to get a point across. I get that. I can relate.

And then, it is over. The set ended a little before 10:30. I paid 8 bux to see a 15 minute performance, and I couldn't have been happier. Mr. Doyle transformed into a regular guy and I stepped out to walk down 6th street for a slice of greezy pizza from the punk rock pizza stand (or heavy metal, depending on the mood of the pizza slinger, I suppose).

When I got back to the club, DFD was selling records as if he hadn't just bled all over the stage, and some dumb band called the Czars or something were dressed up in caftans or something playing some weird combination of ska and something else. I'm afraid it was a bit too gimmicky for me (yes, Christopher...if you are reading this...there IS such a thing as too gimmicky for Lainie) so I left around the middle of their first song, traipsed off to my car all aglow with appreciation for musical artistry and genius and flat out balls out sincerity.

I mean it. Daniel Francis Doyle is an experience not to be missed. You have never seen anything like him, and it is unlikely that you ever will again.

As an aside...I am finding that as I get older, the angstier the music is, the happier it makes me...provided it is honest angst. At some point, I stopped empathizing with the angst so much, and began to really appreciate the expression. Nothing fills me with love of life more than a good, honest musician telling a tale of absolute misery and woe. Getting it out there. Applying some sort of artistic integrity to it. Sharing. It makes me grin and grin and grin. And so it is that I ended yesterday grinning. Spent the rest of the evening taking silly pictures of myself and going for a walk and smiling from the inside out.

Posted at 9:40 AM • Comments (1) • TrackBack

Holy shit fuckin' a, do I ever love this band.

September 4, 2006

I want to marry them.

Posted at 11:27 AM • Comments (1) • TrackBack

youtubin' - dirty three and mission of burma edition (w/bonus camper van!)

August 19, 2006

The Dirty Three, I think, have become my favorite band of all time. This live performance of theirs makes my heart all full with loving life:

And...does this mean there's a mission of burma movie coming out? fuck! So much good music, so little time...

Oh, life is fucking grand!

Oh, and just because I'm thinking about the fiddle...

Posted at 5:45 PM • Comments (2) • TrackBack

Nick Cave

June 23, 2006

I have this inexplicable urge to acquire all of the Nick Cave releases on CD (I have all of them, but half of them are on vinyl) and listen to them in chronological order over the course of a day or a weekend.

Sounds like a project! I'm going to get on the acquisition bit. Anyone wanna join me for the listening bit? Maybe I should get all of the videos, too.

Posted at 8:49 AM • Comments (2) • TrackBack

Bring it On

June 8, 2006

Remember a couple of weeks ago? I had that arm-wavey conversation with JM about Dirty Three & "Low & Dirty Three - Down By The River" and all things Nick Cave?

I remember, too, during the course of that 15-minute conversation, we discussed our mutual initial aversion to Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Nocturama. I mean, it was bad enough that there was a 37 and a half hour song that consisted of the words "Babe I'm On Fire" and little else (OK, it's actually not lyrically that bad, but I can't listen to anything that repititious for more than, say, 5 minutes, without wanting to bash my head THROUGH a wall) but there was also a song called "Bring it On." BRING IT ON, folks. And this was, I believe, AFTER GW's ill-fated invitation to terrorists. It was definitely after the cheerleading movies of the same name had moved from theater to DVD. The next thing you know, the man will be singing about Frappacino's for god's sake!

Bring it on! The nerve!

So, that is why when I went for my walk last night, I was surprised by my desire to pop Nocturama into my walkman. Maybe I was setting myself up for some torture. No pain no gain. That kind of thing.

But no. I mean, yes...Nocturama is by far my least favorite of Nick Cave's offerings. I'm sorry, I don't buy that "Going back to my roots" crap, either. I think Cave phoned this one in, for the most part, and I see little redeeming value in a "Dead Man In My Bed" when I can have a Real Live Devil "Bucking and Braying and Pawing at the Floor" in such sexy tracks as "Loverman" (a is for any-old-how, darlin' - n is for n-e-old time!)(Ouch.)(I would say "Hurt me" but "V is for virtue, so I ain't gonna hurt you, and E is for even if you want me to.)(again...ouch, I say!)

But anyway, there is some redemption in Tracks like "Still in Love" - which appears to be another one of those "Who did Nick kill THIS time...or is it the man himself who has died?" songs. As well as the subtle simplistic sentiment of "Right out of your hand." And even though I cringe every.fucking.time. I hear the line about the trip to MALTA (really, nick? MALTA?) I gotta love the sappy star-crossed sentimentality of "Rock of Gibraltor." What can I say? I am kind of a sap.

Additionally, Warren Ellis' violin tremors tie the whole package together with a nice heaping helping of shimmering wistfulness. Like a vulture rising up from a carcass. And any good nick cave fan would understand that I mean that in a Good Way.

As I neared the end of my walk last night, though, "Bring it On" came on. I rolled my eyes, but then I quickly remembered how powerful that song really is. Ellis puts the punctuation at the beginning of the sentence, and from there we are led into a beautiful lyrical exploration of the true meaning of a phrase which has been made trite by popular culture. Cave, accompanied by Chris Bailey, sing to us about the starkness and raw power of laying yourself naked before the possibilities, both good and bad, inherent in loving someone. They remind us that we all carry "shattered dreams" and "useless fears" and we (at least *I*) yearn for someone to stand before me, unafraid of all of that, and tend my ordinary flowers as they scatter my sadness into the sea. And I yearn to do the same in return.

It's meeting nakedness with nakedness. Raw with raw. It's a declaration that is only made stronger by the cliche nature of it's declarative statement. Perhaps that was the point...perhaps it was not. But I returned from my walk last night, alive with possibility, understanding and hope that I did not have when I began.

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Bring It On
This garden that I built for you
That you sit in now and yearn
I will never leave it, dear
I could not bear to return
And find it all untended
With the trees all bended low
This garden is our home, dear
And I got nowhere else to go

So bring it on
Bring it on
Every little tear
Bring it on
Every useless fear
Bring it on
All your shattered dreams
And I'll scatter them into the sea
Into the sea

The geraniums on your window sill
The carnations, dear, and the daffodil
Well, they're ordinary flowers
But they long for the light of your touch
And of your trembling will
Ah, you're trembling still
And I am trembling too
To be perfectly honest I donï¿½t know
Quite what else to do

So bring it on
Bring it on
Every neglected dream
Bring it on
Every little scheme
Bring it on
Every little fear
And I'll make them disappear

So bring it on, bring it on
Bring it on
Every little thing
Bring it on
Every tiny fear
Bring it on
Every shattered dream
And I'll scatter them into the sea

Posted at 11:29 AM • Comments (0) • TrackBack

Summer Mix

May 30, 2006

Here's the summer mix - please let me know if you would like a copy:

Indian Thing (take one) - Black Wax Machine
Forces At Work - the Feelies
Mouth Wooed Her - Animal Collective
The Killing Moon - Echo and the Bunnymen
Run Run Run - Velvet Underground
Le Pain Perdu - Cibo Matto
No Love Lost - Joy Division
Rise - Public Image Limited
Give the Anarchist a Cigarette - Chumbawamba
Information - Numbers
Good Woman - Cat Power
Late May - Black Wax Machine
Anna - KUKL
The Chain - Fleetwood Mac
Germfree Adolescents - X-Ray Spex
Mean Machine - Chant - The Last Poets
We Tigers - Animal Collective
Gutless - Jawbreaker
Now We're Even - Smart Went Crazy
Spread Your Wings - Spirtualized Electric Mainline

all in all, a really good mix. I especially like the Black Wax Machine songs and the Animal Collective stuff that is new to my playlist and so, so, so good! I am not so sure the Echo and the Bunnymen and PiL stuff fits, but I have been in touch with old friends, and those songs are from that era...so I'm putting them on there anyway.

Posted at 10:46 PM • Comments (4) • TrackBack

Friday Random Ten: Perfect Weather Version

May 12, 2006

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The joys of working with youth.

April 18, 2006

This kid I work with just walked into the office, where I was listening to Beauty Pill. He says to me "Hey, have you ever heard Muse?"

I answer "Nah. Never heard them."

He says "Oh, because they're really good. You might like them."

"Yeah," I say. "What do they sound like?"

"Oh...they sound a lot like some of those OLD rock bands..."

"Old rock bands isn't descriptive...gimme a clue here."

"Oh, you know," He says..."Like RADIOHEAD. You know, like music from the NINETIES."

"Ouch!"

Thankfully, he at least had the presence of mind to realize how funny that was.

Ugh, though. Just...ugh.

I am an old fucker. I am. It's sad, but true.

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Another reason why last.fm rocks my world

April 17, 2006

Can I get THIS made into a freaking POSTER? How hot is that?

Seriously. Last.fm blows this "sliced bread" shit out of the fucking water.

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I am so obsessed with last.fm

April 15, 2006

It's not even funny. Now I have endless scores of people to gush about music with. It's an amazing project. Wow. Thank you, creators of last.fm! If I ever meet you, I will make you soup!

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Last.FM

April 12, 2006

I have finally joined the Last.FM revolution. Please be my friend in music.

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DMBQ Video

April 11, 2006

I finally found a video that seems to really bring the DMBQ experience fairly accurately to a tiny little screen on your computer. Are you ready for this?

oh, and here's a video of the drum set destruction at sxsw...but I'm not sure when this happens. I don't know if it's an effect that makes it appear to be at night, but either this happened at the FXFY show, which was in the daytime, or it happened at yet another DMBQ performance that I didn't know about.

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Chaotic Collective Cacophony

April 9, 2006

Anyone who reads this blog with extreme regularity might have heard me mention a song called "Hope" by the Dirty Three. I mention it a lot, and I play it even more than I mention it. I've never quoted the lyrics, because it has none. The song consists of sparse drums and guitar, and rich strings, and one lone caterwauling stringed instrument that sounds like it's being bowed by a metal ruler.

In all of this talk lately about harmony, and different voices/many voices, which was the sermon today at the UU church, this song comes to mind. I think I finally understand why I love it so much, and, too, why I have been a fan of caterwauling, disharmonious music throughout my life.

That reason is...Fuck Harmony. Like the screeching strings in Hope and Nick Cave's plaintive wails in any Birthday Party song, my affinity lies in those who refuse to harmonize with everyone else. Why would I insist on harmony from others when I so rarely can muster the wherewithal to live in sync with myself? There are times when I, too, rise like the squeal of the misbowed violin, only to fall like the calm and gentle guitar. What's so great about "Hope" is that it's always sandwiched between these incredibly anchored atmospheric pieces that breathe music in and out like the winds that breathe in and out the tide...or more profoundly, like the gravity that perpetuates it.

Instead of longing for an unachievable state of harmony, why not embrace the din? The din of other voices, and that of my own voice, telling me fifty different ways to do the right thing at any moment. My thoughts like a zoetrope, spinning in seeming disconnection and only when it gets spinning fast enough does the picture become whole and unified...and yet there is beauty in those fragmented, still images. There is a strange sort of harmony in that disconnection, like guitars and violins - making combinations of things previously discombobulated. This puzzle I am trying to put together, and all my missing pieces - this puzzle we all are trying to put together, and all our missing pieces. We fill them in with light, air, waves, mist, rocks. We yell in different keys, we sing softly out of tune, we drift, and we return...and in the midst of all of the chaotic collective cacophony, we may find bits of melody to string into a song, or we may seek comfort in the tangible disarray around us which reflects that within, or we may sit in silence, humming with life.

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I'll never see you this way again

April 3, 2006

Iâ€™ve been listening to a steady diet of nothing but the Cure (The Top and Pornography), Echo and the Bunnymen (Ocean Rain)â€¦and thatâ€™s it. I just donâ€™t want to hear anything else right now. This music is so amazing, and it opens up back huge floodgates of memory. Last night, a friend and I were talking about music and when we stopped listening to certain bands, and I told him that the Head on the Door was the last Cure record that I spent any money on, and I remembered then that I saw them on tour that year. I remember it really well because it was the first and I think last time I went out with the object of my crushy Freshman year desires.

Iâ€™m not even sure I know why it was the last time we went out together or even if there was a reason. I think he was just a painfully shy guy, and I didnâ€™t have a car. But I am not sure how to place the context of his shyness. Was he painfully shy and therefore did not know how to ask me out somewhere? Or was he painfully shy and therefore afraid to tell me that there was no way he ever wanted to go out somewhere with me, so he ended up taking me out once in hopes of never having to do it again? Neither one of those would be a surprise to me, and kind of I wish I could find out. Ha! There are lots of relationships I feel that way about. Like years and years down the road, I want to ask the person what, exactly, that was aboutâ€¦and listen to their interpretation in the moment removed from whatever had occurred.

At any rate, this crush of mine actually had its own honest-to-god cheering section. Seriously. It was my friend Matt who designed the whole thing. We would all meet to have breakfast in the cafeteria, and Matt figured out that the object of my crushy desires would always buy something at the refreshment stand, and wouldnâ€™t it be a good idea for me to approach the refreshment stand at the same time and maybe sneak a smile in there, or a little wave? Or whatever dorky new-wavish on-the-verge-of-goth girls do to get the attention of cute crushworthy males.

This is how I became addicted to ho-hoâ€™s. For weeks and weeks I would go to the counter at the same time as the object of my crushy desires (who, hereafter will be referred to by his real name, which was Tom.) trying to build up the nerve to, like, look at him. But, instead, I learned to really seriously become familiar with the smooth, brown, chocolateyness of Hostess Ho-Hos.

One day we all decided that THIS WOULD BE THE DAY I would finally look Tom P. in the eye and say â€œHello.â€ That would be it, and it would justify all the money I had spent on junk food those months and months it had taken to build up to this. This. Was. The. Day. And as Tom moved toward the refreshment stand, I reached into my pocket to fumble for my change and realizedâ€¦I didnâ€™t have any money.

Panic ensued at the breakfast table, but all was quickly resolved by Matt, who slapped a precious coin on the table and YELLED OUT â€œHEREâ€™S A QUARTER, LAINIEâ€¦GO! GO! GO! GO!â€

Dude, it is SO uncool to run up to a refreshment stand to stand in line next to the object of your crushly desires. But it's TRIPLE uncool to do so with a group of ten of your friends cheering you on. I saw Tomâ€™s ears redden in front of me. A-ha! Proof that he knew I existed!

A few days later, with the same level of encouragement backing my movement, I actually approached his table to introduce myself. He looked up as I approached, and blushed. I was probably blushing, too, but I sat down across from him and told him my name and probably shook his hand and after that we officially "knew each other" so I could wave to him in the hallway and he could smile at me from the stage when his band played and we could call each other, and maybe even hang out together.

But we never did really hang out much. I think we talked on the phone a couple of times. He embarrassed himself at one point because he started talking about the film â€œCarnal Knowledgeâ€ and then he was all â€œWhat does Carnal Knowledge MEAN, anyway?â€ and I was like, â€œfuck! Iâ€™m just a freshman celibate virgin, and even I know the answer to that question.â€

I could hear him turning red over the phone.

But he did take me out to see the Cure. I donâ€™t even think I hung out with him at the show. What was up with that? It was the one and only outward gesture of possible datinghood, and after that summer, he was supposed to go off to college in Arizona, and I chose to run up and roll down the hill at poplar creek with a friend of mineâ€¦leaving Tom with his other friend he had brought with him.

Ah, well. Youth! You know?

I do know that Tom wrote me letters when he went away to college, but that stopped, too. And then there was nothing. And I havenâ€™t seen him or heard from him in about 20 years. And I can't remember the last time I ate a ho-ho.

Shake Dog Shake
The Cure

Ha ha ha
Wake up in the dark
The after-taste of anger in the back of my mouth
Spit it on the wall
And cough some more
And scrape my skin with razor blades

And make up in the new blood
And try to look so good
Follow me
Make up in the new blood
And follow me to where the real fun is
Ha ha ha

As stale and selfish as a sick dog
Spurning sex like an animal of god
I'll tear your red hair by the roots
And hold you blazing
Hold you cherished in the dead electric light

Your face
I'll never see you this way again
I captured it so perfectly
As if I knew you'd disappear away

Shake shake shake shake
Shake shake shake shake
Shake dog shake
Shake shake shake shake
Shake shake shake shake
Shake dog shake

You hit me again
You howl and hit me again
The same sharp pain
Wakes me in the dark
And cuts me from my throat to my pounding heart
My heart
My shaking heart
My howl my shake dog

Oh shake dog shake
Shake shake
Shake dog shake

But we slept all night in the virgin's bed
And dreamed of death
And breathed like sick dogs
We slept all night in the virgin's bed
And breathed like death
And dreamed of sick dogs

Shake shake
Shake dog shake

Wake up wake up wake up
Shake dog shake
Wake up wake up wake up
Shake dog shake
Wake up in the new blood
Make up in the new blood
Shake up in the new blood
And follow me to where the real fun is
Shake dog shake

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December 30, 2006

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December 12, 2006

This song perfectly describes my mood.

December 3, 2006

The Girl Who's Moving On.

November 15, 2006

Sue's Last Ride

October 14, 2006

Daniel Francis Doyle

September 8, 2006

Holy shit fuckin' a, do I ever love this band.

September 4, 2006

youtubin' - dirty three and mission of burma edition (w/bonus camper van!)

August 19, 2006

Nick Cave

June 23, 2006

Bring it On

June 8, 2006

Summer Mix

May 30, 2006

Friday Random Ten: Perfect Weather Version

May 12, 2006

The joys of working with youth.

April 18, 2006

Another reason why last.fm rocks my world

April 17, 2006

I am so obsessed with last.fm

April 15, 2006

Last.FM

April 12, 2006

DMBQ Video

April 11, 2006

Chaotic Collective Cacophony

April 9, 2006

I'll never see you this way again

April 3, 2006