How could they have canceled Cooking with Celebrities? Is there no justice? I'm getting Nancy Grace on this . . . pronto. Urgh, I'll bet Thicke is pissed. I missed yesterday's post because it was my daughter's first gymnastics "show," 90 minutes of full-on preschool energy wrapped up in a bug-theme. This girl has someone else's genetics--on both sides. It was so wonderful that I actually teared up at several points. Being a parent is so frequently amazing that one really needs to sit and think about it every once in a while. The children are now engrossed in the underrated and remarkably beautiful, William Joyce-realized Robots, enabling me to quickly blog and then start a top-to-bottom overhaul of the house in advance of visitors arriving this evening. It's not so much dirty as it is laundry-filled. Sigh. Oh well, on to the music, I stumbled on an iMix of songs featured in commercials, so today, I'll be blogging about two. Song 111 is Nikka Costa's "Everybody Got Their Something," the title of course being a callback to Shaw's use of "their" to refer to the singular everybody/everyone (right?). Actually, it's a funky, Sly Stone callback, necessitating much head swaying and rump shakin'. Very catchy, mapping personal empowerment to a synth-y horn section and organ. Think scarves, 'fros, and platforms. Song 112 is Iron and Wine's "Such Great Heights," which I think is from the M&M's commercial and is apparently a cover of some other indie-band-I've-never-heard-of's song. Very breathy, hippy/trippy, Donovan-y. I can completely imagine rocking my baby to sleep to this on an upscale, cool parents lullaby CD (Martha Stewart's Baby anthology was my full-on fav). Seems like just mellow guitar--maybe mandolin--and vocals, and everything does look perfect from far away. Can't argue with that.
253 to go.
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Song One-Hundred and Ten
It's been a long day, like the longest day but without a beach view. But, before retreating to bed with On Beauty (I'm hoping it will pick up; if it doesn't in a couple more chapters, I'm moving on) to await the replay of the Cooking with Celebrities finale, I will dutifully write my blog. Tonight's song, song 110, is "Daft Punk is Playing at My House," by LCD Soundsystem. I dig the synth-y cowbell; also, as mentioned previously, I'm a sucker for the disaffected sneer delivery--especially with reverb. Dance, dance, little techno machine. Plus, the title is awesome.
255 to go.
255 to go.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Song One-Hundred and Nine
After dinner with a friend tonight, I was inexplicably drawn to Payless Shoes where--because of their BOGO promo--I actually purchased 6 pairs of shoes for $60. How is this possible? Oh, unfair labor practices, you do make my feet look stylish. And, I got home in time to give the children a bath while watching Cooking with Celebrities, or whatever it's actually called. Gosh, Tom Arnold sweats . . . a lot. It's the third night for this brain-resting-spot; in the "with celebrities" pantheon, it falls somewhere between "dancing" (high) and "skating" (low). My money's on Ashley Parker Angel in the finals. Go, O-Town! Now, I'm waiting for "Babysitting with Celebrities," starring TomKat, Brangelina, Bennifer2, the Paltrow-Martins, and the Trumps. The show will really pick up when the engrams, tatoos, Starbucks, free trade stickers, and baby combovers start a'flying. Ah, onto the music, tonight's song is Morningwood's "Nth Degree." The would-be-saucy pun in the band's name is really rather lame. The song is cold-perky 80s, sounding like many new wave-y bands--Missing Persons, Berlin, Devo, M, add your own here--with a bit of the Bay City Rollers woven in. There's something cynical in its cleverness that's off-putting.
256 to go.
256 to go.
Monday, April 17, 2006
Song One-Hundred and Eight
Wow, I can still write one more quick post and catch the elimination on Top Chef. I have very pedestrian needs, people. So, let's blog about Matt Pond PA's "Brooklyn Stars." Plaintive, vaguely tired vocals--another victim of the great ennui of the aughts, I guess. This is a pleasant song, but it's of a piece that runs into another like a giant West Elm tone on tone quilt. Where are the Kaffe Fassett bizarro colored vegie-prints? The poison greens and cheddars? The freaky mix of corduroy and wool? We cannot live by Real Simple alone, dear reader.
257 to go.
257 to go.
Song One-Hundred and Seven
Whew, back in the swing of things! Two things since I last blogged. It suddenly struck me whilst driving to work today that I know the "Let Him Fly" song from a Dixie Chicks album. Yep, I own all of them--there's your trouble! Also, Jerry Reed is a big hit with the kids: cowbell = children's joy! So, now onto a new song, O. A. R.'s "Hey Girl." I'd describe this as power-pop-y. Jangly guitars, bouncy. It's fairly commercial and directed. Fun with a summer-song vibe. Oh, and I learned that OAR stands for "of a revolution." I'm not completely sure which revolution comes with a website that lists the band's gear or includes a guy named Benj. Perhaps the OC revolution. It's coming, dear readers. Beware!
258 to go.
258 to go.
Saturday, April 15, 2006
Songs Ninety-Nine to One-Hundred and Six
On my marathon plane flights I got to catch up on my reading, and it wasn't all Program Review Policy drafts or meeting briefs, either. I finally got to read Allegra Goodman's Intuition, majorly great. If Edith Wharton wrote a novel about a cancer research lab, this would be it. Realizing how quickly I was tearing through the book, I picked up a complete trash novel, Gigi Levangie (Mrs. Brian) Grazer's Starter Wife at the airport, way fun; a Judith Krantz for the aughts. At one point, the heroine realizes she's become the Prince-listening version of her mom, sending a shiver of recognition through this blogger. Moms, waxed or unwaxed, we are the world. And, then I started Marilynne Robinson's Gilead, which is achingly beautiful and definitely not the book to read if you've been away from your children for five days--unless you want your row to witness you in tears for 6 hours. So, I switched to People. Apparently, Julia Roberts is unbelievably happy these days, and Matt LeBlanc is a dog. Ah, showbiz. Okay, more songs.
Song Ninety-Nine: Colin Hay, "Waiting for My Real Life to Begin." I hit the celebrity playlist of Ms. Mandy Moore and found this song. (Perhaps inspired by Z. B.'s tastes?) Who knew the Men at Work guy would have a second act? He has a really solid voice, and the openness of the song lets it work clearly. This could be shorter.
Song One-Hundred (enter celebration cake blog right): Elton John, "Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters." One of the times I was pregnant (they were very close together and seem like one continuous two year period), we were obsessed with Untitled, the director's cut of Almost Famous. This is a great movie. And, I became obsessed with this song (and cried everytime it played . . . hormones, dear readers)--but not obsessed enough to buy an Elton John album (being out of junior high and everything). So, when I realized I could buy it on iTunes, yippee!!! A fantastic song and a great 100 milestone. [Elton John? Where'd you park your time machine?]
Song One-Hundred and One: Patty Griffin, "Let Him Fly." Another Mandy Moore cut. (Hey, she was really good in that movie about Christians with Macauley Culkin, Sarandon's daughter, and other marginal celebristars.) I know I've heard this song before but don't know where. It's a good song, and she has a grown-up voice--which is nice for a borderline folkie.
Song One-Hundred and Two: Boz Scaggs, "Heart of Mine." One of the cool things about iTunes is that one can buy just the one or two songs you remember loving in one's feckless youth. On my drive back from the airport last time, I heard another Boz Scaggs song on the radio and was completely transported back to the Southridge Mall. So, given that--as my husband noted--I am in possession of a time machine, I decided to download a couple Boz Scaggs song. You can't go wrong; they are so over-produced that you need a steak knife to slice through, plus killer drum fills, and his smooth, smooth voice. Full on cool!
Song One-Hundred and Three: Jerry Reed, "Amos Moses." I found this on an iTunes Essentials pre-mix entitled (no joke) More Cowbell! Well, it doesn't get more cowbell than this. I actually just flipped through one of those Smokey and the Bandit movies the other night, the one with an elephant. Gosh, the 70s were some time. What other decade could produce such a freaky spectrum of music--and Famolare shoes? This song is awesome. Insert rainbow here!
Song One-Hundred and Four: Low, "Monkey." Very scary opening--like Rob Base crossed with P. J. Harvey. Heavy drums, sonic depth. You can feel this song in your chest. Apparently, according to the lyrics, the "monkey" is dying this very evening. I'm not certain what that means, but it's certainly spooky and reverb-y! Has a very Eli Roth feel.
Song One-Hundred and Five: Ida, "Late Blues." Down tempo remembrance of things past with an organ, I think. Long musical break is pretty, melancholy, but the song is eventually a bit boring. I feel pained rather than feel their pain. Probably not what they're going for.
Song One-Hundred and Six: B. C. Camplight, "Richard Dawson." I'm not sure if it's that Richard Dawson, but let's pretend, dear readers. Very peppy song, 70s-style horn breaks--that completely recall Love American Style--and 80s-style drums. The lyrics amount to nothing but purposive rhymes. Quite disposable but fun.
259 to go.
Song Ninety-Nine: Colin Hay, "Waiting for My Real Life to Begin." I hit the celebrity playlist of Ms. Mandy Moore and found this song. (Perhaps inspired by Z. B.'s tastes?) Who knew the Men at Work guy would have a second act? He has a really solid voice, and the openness of the song lets it work clearly. This could be shorter.
Song One-Hundred (enter celebration cake blog right): Elton John, "Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters." One of the times I was pregnant (they were very close together and seem like one continuous two year period), we were obsessed with Untitled, the director's cut of Almost Famous. This is a great movie. And, I became obsessed with this song (and cried everytime it played . . . hormones, dear readers)--but not obsessed enough to buy an Elton John album (being out of junior high and everything). So, when I realized I could buy it on iTunes, yippee!!! A fantastic song and a great 100 milestone. [Elton John? Where'd you park your time machine?]
Song One-Hundred and One: Patty Griffin, "Let Him Fly." Another Mandy Moore cut. (Hey, she was really good in that movie about Christians with Macauley Culkin, Sarandon's daughter, and other marginal celebristars.) I know I've heard this song before but don't know where. It's a good song, and she has a grown-up voice--which is nice for a borderline folkie.
Song One-Hundred and Two: Boz Scaggs, "Heart of Mine." One of the cool things about iTunes is that one can buy just the one or two songs you remember loving in one's feckless youth. On my drive back from the airport last time, I heard another Boz Scaggs song on the radio and was completely transported back to the Southridge Mall. So, given that--as my husband noted--I am in possession of a time machine, I decided to download a couple Boz Scaggs song. You can't go wrong; they are so over-produced that you need a steak knife to slice through, plus killer drum fills, and his smooth, smooth voice. Full on cool!
Song One-Hundred and Three: Jerry Reed, "Amos Moses." I found this on an iTunes Essentials pre-mix entitled (no joke) More Cowbell! Well, it doesn't get more cowbell than this. I actually just flipped through one of those Smokey and the Bandit movies the other night, the one with an elephant. Gosh, the 70s were some time. What other decade could produce such a freaky spectrum of music--and Famolare shoes? This song is awesome. Insert rainbow here!
Song One-Hundred and Four: Low, "Monkey." Very scary opening--like Rob Base crossed with P. J. Harvey. Heavy drums, sonic depth. You can feel this song in your chest. Apparently, according to the lyrics, the "monkey" is dying this very evening. I'm not certain what that means, but it's certainly spooky and reverb-y! Has a very Eli Roth feel.
Song One-Hundred and Five: Ida, "Late Blues." Down tempo remembrance of things past with an organ, I think. Long musical break is pretty, melancholy, but the song is eventually a bit boring. I feel pained rather than feel their pain. Probably not what they're going for.
Song One-Hundred and Six: B. C. Camplight, "Richard Dawson." I'm not sure if it's that Richard Dawson, but let's pretend, dear readers. Very peppy song, 70s-style horn breaks--that completely recall Love American Style--and 80s-style drums. The lyrics amount to nothing but purposive rhymes. Quite disposable but fun.
259 to go.
Songs Ninety-Three to Ninety-Eight
Back again after a hiatus, though I have actually been listening to much music. Taking two 9 hour trips sitting next to odd individuals whom one very much wants to avoid will do that for you. As will buying an iTrip, which is some space age device that converts the notes that come out of my iPod into radio waves and then into sounds that come out of my car radio. All with no cords or connections whatsoever. Very Willie Wonka! I'm looking forward to a similar device that can convert my desire to purchase objects into the cash that's required to buy said objects--or even into the objects themselves. Ah, nirvana! Okay, I'm 14 songs behind, so this here entry starts the full-on catch-up.
Song Ninety-Three: Roisin Murphy, "Ramalama (Bang, Bang)." Nice big, big drums, as might be suggested by the title. The song has lots of texture and layers to it, kind of like a 70s shag cut. The chorus doesn't really kick-in until the last third, which is interesting. Prior to that it doesn't even seem to have a clear throughline outside of the drums (which seem synth-y). Fun.
Song Ninety-Four: The Weepies, "World Spins Madly On." The opening music of the song screams VW-ad circa 2000s. I like this song a lot. It has a melancholy feel (perhaps not surprising given the group's name) with clear, lovely vocals. The melding of the male and female vocalists is quite nice, too.
Song Ninety-Five: Madeleine Peyroux, "Careless Love." I remember reading at some point about her going missing (a la Roddy Frame) then turning up. This is a vintage-y song. If Norah Jones had more depth to her voice, this is what she would sound like. The tune itself is not especially deep, but Ms. Peyroux voice has a warm, smoky feel. But, it also sounds a little too much like a Billie Holiday cover show. Nice, but why not just listen to Lady Day.
Song Ninety-Six: Jamie Lidell, "Multiply." Total blue eyed soul, dear readers. Welcome to the world of Otis Redding if he lived in Notting Hill, ate take-away, and went to boarding school. This is not to say the song is bad; it actually is quite catchy. And, it has some electronica bits thrown in for reasons known only to Mr. Lidell, I think. Could be a little shorter.
Song Ninety-Seven: The Chalets, "Sexy Mistake." The song has a girl group feel with an Elastica sound, down to the backing tracks. Kind of a musical take on girls gone wild--pub version. Peppy, disposable, retro pop.
Song Ninety-Eight: Psapp, "Tiger, My Friend." I think I got this off of a Grey's Anatomy soundtrack. It's been so long since I downloaded this batch of songs. It has a mellow vibe to it, with a kind of liquid sound (difficult to describe, but you'll hear it if you have the song). It could use less repetition of the vocals. The last 40 seconds are literally whispers and rain. I guess this is avantgarde, or else someone left the microphone out in the rain (with that cake that so depressed Richard Harris).
267 to go.
Song Ninety-Three: Roisin Murphy, "Ramalama (Bang, Bang)." Nice big, big drums, as might be suggested by the title. The song has lots of texture and layers to it, kind of like a 70s shag cut. The chorus doesn't really kick-in until the last third, which is interesting. Prior to that it doesn't even seem to have a clear throughline outside of the drums (which seem synth-y). Fun.
Song Ninety-Four: The Weepies, "World Spins Madly On." The opening music of the song screams VW-ad circa 2000s. I like this song a lot. It has a melancholy feel (perhaps not surprising given the group's name) with clear, lovely vocals. The melding of the male and female vocalists is quite nice, too.
Song Ninety-Five: Madeleine Peyroux, "Careless Love." I remember reading at some point about her going missing (a la Roddy Frame) then turning up. This is a vintage-y song. If Norah Jones had more depth to her voice, this is what she would sound like. The tune itself is not especially deep, but Ms. Peyroux voice has a warm, smoky feel. But, it also sounds a little too much like a Billie Holiday cover show. Nice, but why not just listen to Lady Day.
Song Ninety-Six: Jamie Lidell, "Multiply." Total blue eyed soul, dear readers. Welcome to the world of Otis Redding if he lived in Notting Hill, ate take-away, and went to boarding school. This is not to say the song is bad; it actually is quite catchy. And, it has some electronica bits thrown in for reasons known only to Mr. Lidell, I think. Could be a little shorter.
Song Ninety-Seven: The Chalets, "Sexy Mistake." The song has a girl group feel with an Elastica sound, down to the backing tracks. Kind of a musical take on girls gone wild--pub version. Peppy, disposable, retro pop.
Song Ninety-Eight: Psapp, "Tiger, My Friend." I think I got this off of a Grey's Anatomy soundtrack. It's been so long since I downloaded this batch of songs. It has a mellow vibe to it, with a kind of liquid sound (difficult to describe, but you'll hear it if you have the song). It could use less repetition of the vocals. The last 40 seconds are literally whispers and rain. I guess this is avantgarde, or else someone left the microphone out in the rain (with that cake that so depressed Richard Harris).
267 to go.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Songs Eighty-Eight to Ninety-Two
I'm blogging ahead as we're leaving for the weekend in celebration of many things: I passed my oral exam and am admitted to candidacy (now I'm ABD twice! time to start a new degree); it's our anniversary; and it's our son's birthday. Yipee!!! I've actually pre-celebrated in the manner of all self-respecting academics--mani/pedi. I had a really intriguing conversation earlier this week with the newish provost of my illustrious alma and continuing mater in which she posited that one could track the influence of merit based aid in the rise of spa services for college students. We both agreed that we never thought about getting spa services as undergrads, yet every coed at the big U certainly sports some fine looking nails and toes. Intriguing. There is definitely a funded research study in there, and blog-america do not even dream of stealing my intellectual property. So, onto a slew of new songs.
Oh, first, I saw the Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs last night on Letterman. Still don't get it. As I told my husband, I was there for Siousxie--and she played with a guy named Budgie. What's this band bringing to the party? Okay, now new songs.
Song Eighty-Eight: Deadman, "Brother." It's a bit of a downer and sounds like one of those acoustic cuts they used to tack onto the end of Fleetwood Mac albums. The male vocalist has a Bono-ish feel to his voice. I'm thinking I meant to download something else as this is not really "me." But, carry-on modern day folkies, I feel your pain--and gave you my buck-minus in sympathy.
Song Eighty-Nine: Beulah, "Popular Mechanics for Lovers." I broke down and sought out an OC mix. Amazing how many songs I've bought are OC-features; I'm clearly down with the young people. This has a kinda updated Herman Hermits feel. Jangly, sing-along pop for the post-ironic spa set. Fun and disposable (like the OC, I guess).
Song Ninety: Cobra Verde, "Get the Party Started." Had to buy this. I used to dance my baby daughter across the bed every day to the Pink version. She loved it and has been getting the party started ever since. This version starts with a nice (I hope) "Raspberry Beret" cough allusion. It has more an ominous, Oingo Boingo party feel than a full out BMX party with Pink and Carey feel. Interesting. (According to its website, this band was also on the OC. Good gracious, is that show taking over the musical planet? Be afraid, dear reader. Avoid any stick figure wearing distressed Keds.)
Song Ninety-One: Transplants, "Gangsters and Thugs." A fast-paced punky-pop tune; has a kind of mod-Jam feel with a bit of ska-intonation thrown in. Catchy. The chorus has a nice "seen it all" feel and delivery: "some of my friends sell records, some of my friends sell drugs." Lots of mix-it-up in a moderated drum-and-bass way. Fun debauchery. (Hey, from the website I learned this band features that guy from Meet the Barkers.)
Song Ninety-Two: The Perishers, "Trouble Sleeping." Maybe a bit too slowly paced and MOR. Every once in a while, there's a nice musical counterpoint, but otherwise it drags on in a too familiar way. One would have little trouble sleeping through this (get it?).
273 to go.
Oh, first, I saw the Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs last night on Letterman. Still don't get it. As I told my husband, I was there for Siousxie--and she played with a guy named Budgie. What's this band bringing to the party? Okay, now new songs.
Song Eighty-Eight: Deadman, "Brother." It's a bit of a downer and sounds like one of those acoustic cuts they used to tack onto the end of Fleetwood Mac albums. The male vocalist has a Bono-ish feel to his voice. I'm thinking I meant to download something else as this is not really "me." But, carry-on modern day folkies, I feel your pain--and gave you my buck-minus in sympathy.
Song Eighty-Nine: Beulah, "Popular Mechanics for Lovers." I broke down and sought out an OC mix. Amazing how many songs I've bought are OC-features; I'm clearly down with the young people. This has a kinda updated Herman Hermits feel. Jangly, sing-along pop for the post-ironic spa set. Fun and disposable (like the OC, I guess).
Song Ninety: Cobra Verde, "Get the Party Started." Had to buy this. I used to dance my baby daughter across the bed every day to the Pink version. She loved it and has been getting the party started ever since. This version starts with a nice (I hope) "Raspberry Beret" cough allusion. It has more an ominous, Oingo Boingo party feel than a full out BMX party with Pink and Carey feel. Interesting. (According to its website, this band was also on the OC. Good gracious, is that show taking over the musical planet? Be afraid, dear reader. Avoid any stick figure wearing distressed Keds.)
Song Ninety-One: Transplants, "Gangsters and Thugs." A fast-paced punky-pop tune; has a kind of mod-Jam feel with a bit of ska-intonation thrown in. Catchy. The chorus has a nice "seen it all" feel and delivery: "some of my friends sell records, some of my friends sell drugs." Lots of mix-it-up in a moderated drum-and-bass way. Fun debauchery. (Hey, from the website I learned this band features that guy from Meet the Barkers.)
Song Ninety-Two: The Perishers, "Trouble Sleeping." Maybe a bit too slowly paced and MOR. Every once in a while, there's a nice musical counterpoint, but otherwise it drags on in a too familiar way. One would have little trouble sleeping through this (get it?).
273 to go.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Song Eighty-Seven
My husband and his friend the talented orange from television have become obsessed with buying Macs on eBay, so I'm cutting into their BrokeMac adventure for a few moments to blog my tune o' the day. Oh, and what a day! I cut a heart out with a thermal plasma cutter (well, not a real heart, an aluminum one). But, this visit to a welding-environment allowed me to pick up some kicky faux-Timberlands to protect my dogs from the flying sparks. It was super cool! Then, I got to finish off the heart with some kind of mega-power tool edition dremel-y thing. Also, cool. Though, I can now say from experience that no one wearing a welding helmet would wind up with Jennifer Beals's hair at the end of the day. Still, what a feeling! Song eighty seven is by Goldfrapp, "Ooh La La." An angry electronica rave up. It really reminds me of another song, but I can't place it exactly. Her voice is slightly processed with a backing track that would not be out of place in a Final Four arena-setting. Oops, I've just been told he's on a deadline to look at the computer of his dreams (remember Lenny Von Dohlen?). So, I'm out.
278 to go.
278 to go.
Sunday, March 26, 2006
Songs Eighty-Three to Eighty-Six
There's a big article in the NYT Style section today about "life coaches." (I'll pause for a second to let that sink in. Life. Coaches. Yep, we're all up against the wall, dear readers.) It mentions the recent send-up of life coaches on The Daily Show. Shortly after seeing that piece, I had to work up an article on buzz marketing for an anthology, and every time the article mentioned trends, I heard the beat boxing noises that accompany the "trend spotting" hand drawn logo with its perfect Kiss Army lightning bolts. It's going to be tough to talk through that one with an editor without cracking up. Blogging of trends, I had to take a break one morning last week when the feathered hair and long scarf guy from Love Monkey turned up on Good Morning America as, like, a real recording artist singing the same ultra-sensitive long-scarf guy song he sang over and over in the show. It turns out his name isn't Wayne, like in the show, but Teddy something with a G (although I don't think he's related to Warren G or Ali G). Teddy. Stuff like this makes me long for the straight-up manufactured and we know it era of the Backstreet Boys. You just know that Teddy has a life coach.
Song Eighty-Three: Nine Black Alps, "Cosmopolitan." I think I got this on a SXSW iMix. It's English white boy regulation alterna-rock with just enough head banging to "keep it real" without slipping over into Darkness territory. There's a nice staccato quality to this song. Although a card-carrying Kiss Army (shout out #2) member in junior high, I gave up rock with a capital R by the 80s, so I'm probably not the best judge. But, this seems like a pretty good song.
Song Eighty-Four: Minus the Bear, "Puchaca Sunrise." Perhaps they dropped the bear because of its omnipresence on the Threatdown. This is a very non-threatening song. It has kinda new wave feel in the breaks that contrasts nicely with the smooth, emotive, now-standard alterna-guy feel to the rest. The change-up adds a level of spice to the song that's missing in a lot of other alterna-pop that seems like masquerading MOR blahness.
Song Eighty-Five: k-os, "Crabbuckit." Sometimes you can judge a song from its title. This is a fun rap romp, kinda like an updated Louis Jordan tune. Very dance-y with cool juke joint jazz breaks, clapping percussion, and an ultra-old school feel. The video for this song is on his site, so it was interesting to find it afterwards and see in images pretty much what I heard. The vocals transition several times adding another layer of interest.
Song Eighty-Six: Guillemots, "Trains to Brazil." This is the current free iTunes download, so how can you not love it? It begins with drums, whistles, and yowling, then somehow moves into something akin to standard Britpop. Intriguing mix of textures throughout. There's a lot of instrumentation in here, and it kind of reminded me of the big mid-80s Waterboys sound at points. The song bops along and is pretty catchy, actually, and it was free!
279 to go.
Song Eighty-Three: Nine Black Alps, "Cosmopolitan." I think I got this on a SXSW iMix. It's English white boy regulation alterna-rock with just enough head banging to "keep it real" without slipping over into Darkness territory. There's a nice staccato quality to this song. Although a card-carrying Kiss Army (shout out #2) member in junior high, I gave up rock with a capital R by the 80s, so I'm probably not the best judge. But, this seems like a pretty good song.
Song Eighty-Four: Minus the Bear, "Puchaca Sunrise." Perhaps they dropped the bear because of its omnipresence on the Threatdown. This is a very non-threatening song. It has kinda new wave feel in the breaks that contrasts nicely with the smooth, emotive, now-standard alterna-guy feel to the rest. The change-up adds a level of spice to the song that's missing in a lot of other alterna-pop that seems like masquerading MOR blahness.
Song Eighty-Five: k-os, "Crabbuckit." Sometimes you can judge a song from its title. This is a fun rap romp, kinda like an updated Louis Jordan tune. Very dance-y with cool juke joint jazz breaks, clapping percussion, and an ultra-old school feel. The video for this song is on his site, so it was interesting to find it afterwards and see in images pretty much what I heard. The vocals transition several times adding another layer of interest.
Song Eighty-Six: Guillemots, "Trains to Brazil." This is the current free iTunes download, so how can you not love it? It begins with drums, whistles, and yowling, then somehow moves into something akin to standard Britpop. Intriguing mix of textures throughout. There's a lot of instrumentation in here, and it kind of reminded me of the big mid-80s Waterboys sound at points. The song bops along and is pretty catchy, actually, and it was free!
279 to go.
Saturday, March 25, 2006
Songs Seventy-Eight to Eighty-Two
I'm still rushing through to catch up on my blog-gap. I forgot to mention that this morning in a fit of cleaning pique I decided to give much of my former grad life away. My current grad life relies nicely on data and electronically-available sources--much less dust. There's great liberation in letting loose a sneering snort whilst saying "Heidegger" or "Glas" or "subaltern" and throwing books into a box. And, as a way-working, grad-student mom of two, I find surprisingly little time to read feminist theory. (Though, I still held onto my Lacan. I'm telling you, that guy was onto something! What, I'm not sure, but something.) Plus, I've netted miles of bookshelf space for the much-lauded return of literature--and the movement of that literature out of my bedroom and living room. Now that theory is dead, I'm totally prepped for neo-new criticism; plus, novels have more beautiful covers, and I can finally lose myself in them again. Here's some music to read by . . .
Song Seventy-Eight: Saturday Looks Good to Me, "Meet Me by the Water." Another 60s-vibe tune. Wall of sound effects with sweet girl-y lead vocals. Lots of odd percussion, an out of nowhere saxomaphone. There's a nice echo effect on the lead vocals at points, as well. The song kind of deconstructs itself a bit preciously toward the end, though. I get it, you can work the studio equipment.
Song Seventy-Nine: Shout Out Louds, "Never Ever." The song has a whirling instrumental start that rolls up and down. Plaintive lead vocals that fit well with the driving guitars and percussion. They sound like a band that would be really good live; lots of random, head-bobbing dancing would ensue. There are lots of instrumental breaks that can get a bit repetitive--very much a musician's band, I think. Good song overall.
Song Eighty: Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, "By the Skin of My Yellow Country Teeth." Another alterna-critical fave. I remember hearing this song on the All Songs Considered year end review. Lead singer has one of those intentionally bad voices that grow on you. I've seen comparisons to David Byrne, but there's not the same cool distance here. It's more "deal-with-it" bad than "I've-really-been-working-on-this . . . a lot" bad. The music draws you in and sounds comfortingly familiar. I like the big drums! It is a little long. To quote Marianne Moore, concision is a virtue, boys.
Song Eighty-One: Stars, "Ageless Beauty." A wonderfully updated shoegazer type of tune. Lovely lead vocals streaming into a wash of sound that leaves me surprisingly uplifted. I like this very much and would definitely listen to more of the Stars, whom I'd never heard of before. Well done.
Song Eighty-Two: Dead Prez, "Radio Freq." The lasting influence of Dave Chapelle's Block Party. I'd heard of Dead Prez but never listened to them. This is a great song--a bouncing, raucous, clever condemnation of radio. Lots going on, but it never loses control. Short and to the point. I think Dead Prez will be among those sending me to the wall when the revolution comes, but I'll be bobbing my head the whole way.
283 to go.
Song Seventy-Eight: Saturday Looks Good to Me, "Meet Me by the Water." Another 60s-vibe tune. Wall of sound effects with sweet girl-y lead vocals. Lots of odd percussion, an out of nowhere saxomaphone. There's a nice echo effect on the lead vocals at points, as well. The song kind of deconstructs itself a bit preciously toward the end, though. I get it, you can work the studio equipment.
Song Seventy-Nine: Shout Out Louds, "Never Ever." The song has a whirling instrumental start that rolls up and down. Plaintive lead vocals that fit well with the driving guitars and percussion. They sound like a band that would be really good live; lots of random, head-bobbing dancing would ensue. There are lots of instrumental breaks that can get a bit repetitive--very much a musician's band, I think. Good song overall.
Song Eighty: Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, "By the Skin of My Yellow Country Teeth." Another alterna-critical fave. I remember hearing this song on the All Songs Considered year end review. Lead singer has one of those intentionally bad voices that grow on you. I've seen comparisons to David Byrne, but there's not the same cool distance here. It's more "deal-with-it" bad than "I've-really-been-working-on-this . . . a lot" bad. The music draws you in and sounds comfortingly familiar. I like the big drums! It is a little long. To quote Marianne Moore, concision is a virtue, boys.
Song Eighty-One: Stars, "Ageless Beauty." A wonderfully updated shoegazer type of tune. Lovely lead vocals streaming into a wash of sound that leaves me surprisingly uplifted. I like this very much and would definitely listen to more of the Stars, whom I'd never heard of before. Well done.
Song Eighty-Two: Dead Prez, "Radio Freq." The lasting influence of Dave Chapelle's Block Party. I'd heard of Dead Prez but never listened to them. This is a great song--a bouncing, raucous, clever condemnation of radio. Lots going on, but it never loses control. Short and to the point. I think Dead Prez will be among those sending me to the wall when the revolution comes, but I'll be bobbing my head the whole way.
283 to go.
Songs Seventy-Four to Seventy-Seven
Well, everyone is napping, and I just found an old box of remnant Mike and Ikes in the cabinet, so that's motivation enough to blow off the laundry for a few more minutes and push on with the tunes. As I write, in front of me is my non-winning Georgia "megamillions" ticket. While in Atlanta last week, I bought a non-winning Tuesday ticket and then a non-winning Friday ticket (I just checked the site). Oh, the humanity. But, the blog must go on . . .
Song Seventy-Four: Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs, "Gold Lion." I got this one from EW. I know they've been darlings for a while, but I'm coming to this song a tabula rasa. There's more than a bit of Sinead O'Connor in the lead singer's voice in the yippy parts. This is a fine song, but nothing spectacular. It seems like a pastiche of a lot of 80s/90s rock, but clearly, it takes itself very seriously. Eh. As with the Strokes, I don't seem to get it.
Song Seventy-Five: Jem, "They." A welsh songstress who has nothing to do with the 1980s Jem action heroine, who was "truly outrageous" and also a songstress. Song has nice layering effects and processing. I like it--electronica regret theme with a tinge of oppression. Some of the backing tracks have a very-70s movie background feel to them. There's a nice sense of overwhelming sound when she sings of "them" that adds to the ambient suffocation.
Song Seventy-Six: Architecture in Helsinki, "The Owls Go." Okay, this song is awesome!! You'd need another blog just to catalog every instrument and human noise in here. It took about three listens just to pay attention to what the diverse vocalists were saying--which is kinda twins in the hallway Shining creepy/cute at least to my ears. The "four, three, two, one" speaker alternation is so cool (and happens twice), and when they finally got to the "owls go, hoo, hoo," I was so oddly excited to finally hear the song title. Everyone needs to own this epic. You go, Architecture in Helsinki!
Song Seventy-Seven: Apollo Sunshine, "Today is the Day." Apparently, Apollo Sunshine is the next big thing. This is a fun song. Very upbeat, music-man feel. One of those bounce in your chairs or do a hippie-dance songs. Short, driving. I can definitely see it in a Gap ad, that's for sure. Worth 99.
288 to go.
Song Seventy-Four: Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs, "Gold Lion." I got this one from EW. I know they've been darlings for a while, but I'm coming to this song a tabula rasa. There's more than a bit of Sinead O'Connor in the lead singer's voice in the yippy parts. This is a fine song, but nothing spectacular. It seems like a pastiche of a lot of 80s/90s rock, but clearly, it takes itself very seriously. Eh. As with the Strokes, I don't seem to get it.
Song Seventy-Five: Jem, "They." A welsh songstress who has nothing to do with the 1980s Jem action heroine, who was "truly outrageous" and also a songstress. Song has nice layering effects and processing. I like it--electronica regret theme with a tinge of oppression. Some of the backing tracks have a very-70s movie background feel to them. There's a nice sense of overwhelming sound when she sings of "them" that adds to the ambient suffocation.
Song Seventy-Six: Architecture in Helsinki, "The Owls Go." Okay, this song is awesome!! You'd need another blog just to catalog every instrument and human noise in here. It took about three listens just to pay attention to what the diverse vocalists were saying--which is kinda twins in the hallway Shining creepy/cute at least to my ears. The "four, three, two, one" speaker alternation is so cool (and happens twice), and when they finally got to the "owls go, hoo, hoo," I was so oddly excited to finally hear the song title. Everyone needs to own this epic. You go, Architecture in Helsinki!
Song Seventy-Seven: Apollo Sunshine, "Today is the Day." Apparently, Apollo Sunshine is the next big thing. This is a fun song. Very upbeat, music-man feel. One of those bounce in your chairs or do a hippie-dance songs. Short, driving. I can definitely see it in a Gap ad, that's for sure. Worth 99.
288 to go.
Songs Sixty-Nine to Seventy-Three
Still in catch-up mode. Went straight from tooth pulling to a conference to pulling something in my back to encouraging some folks to pursue other opportunities to trying to determine if a package of Backyardigans fruit snacks qualified as food-to-take-with-medicine-as-directed. Ah, the glamorous life of the working mom. But, it's a lovely day, I got a cute floral cardigan on sale at Old Navy, and the laundry's a-spinning, so it's time to play rush review on the blog to burn off my remaining unblabbed about songs before I go find more tunes and delve into my Daniel Boulud for dinner ideas.
Song Sixty-Nine: Ben Folds, "In Between Days." Yep, it's the Cure song. Ah, the Cure--so perfect. A neat take on the song that captures its essence but runs in a new direction, a very piano-y direction (natch). Mr. Folds's voice works well with the song, and the arrangement adds a tumbly, rushed feeling that is different from the paranoid, rushed of the original. Worth 99 cents for sure.
Song Seventy: The Derailers, "Then She Kissed Me." I knew nothing about the Derailers other than that Rory once went to a Derailers concert with Jess on the Gilmore Girls, enough to prejudice me against them. Plus, honestly, I always confuse them with the Reivers, whom I once saw and liked. This is a bit too retro-close, so it doesn't seem worth the bother. Very much Everly Brothers in two-toned puppies kind-of feel. There's a Dwight Yoakum feel here, and while I like Mr. Yoakum for many reasons, I didn't like this song much.
Song Seventy-One: Rosie Thomas, "Crazy." I can't remember why I downloaded this song. For a while I was thinking it was a cover of an N*Sync song (the one with the video where they're all in a padded room). My kids like it and say it sounds like it's from Shrek 2. Maybe it is; I only remember that opening Counting Crows song that we always dance to. Anyway, I like this song, also; her voice has a nice warm, calming timbre that plays against the "sinking into isolation and insanity" theme of the song--as does the instrumentation. Short and sweet.
Song Seventy-Two: Tricky, "Dear God." Okay, this is definitely a cover of the XTC tune. It is ur-Tricky--hushed, threatening, ominous. When I played it, my daughter told me to turn it off because it was scary. There's a nice but expected counterpoint of Tricky's processed voice with a little girl-y voice (definitely someone Euro). Playing up the dark side of the song kind of diminishes the power of the original, which puts such a nice sheen on it that you don't hear the darkness at first.
Song Seventy-Three: Jean Yves-Thibaudet, Music from Pride and Prejudice. Well, I downloaded the whole album, so I thought I'd blog it. I absolutely love this soundtrack and the movie, too; I'm such an Anglophile Austen romance-sucker--windswept, surging, sparse, thoughtful, enveloping. This is perfect "listening to my iPod reading and studying" music, and I recommend it to all with a heart and soul. There's a great moment in the director's commentary when Joe Wright talks about how we tend to undervalue the wish-fulfillment aspect of movies. Embrace that wish, dear reader, the heath awaits!
292 to go.
Song Sixty-Nine: Ben Folds, "In Between Days." Yep, it's the Cure song. Ah, the Cure--so perfect. A neat take on the song that captures its essence but runs in a new direction, a very piano-y direction (natch). Mr. Folds's voice works well with the song, and the arrangement adds a tumbly, rushed feeling that is different from the paranoid, rushed of the original. Worth 99 cents for sure.
Song Seventy: The Derailers, "Then She Kissed Me." I knew nothing about the Derailers other than that Rory once went to a Derailers concert with Jess on the Gilmore Girls, enough to prejudice me against them. Plus, honestly, I always confuse them with the Reivers, whom I once saw and liked. This is a bit too retro-close, so it doesn't seem worth the bother. Very much Everly Brothers in two-toned puppies kind-of feel. There's a Dwight Yoakum feel here, and while I like Mr. Yoakum for many reasons, I didn't like this song much.
Song Seventy-One: Rosie Thomas, "Crazy." I can't remember why I downloaded this song. For a while I was thinking it was a cover of an N*Sync song (the one with the video where they're all in a padded room). My kids like it and say it sounds like it's from Shrek 2. Maybe it is; I only remember that opening Counting Crows song that we always dance to. Anyway, I like this song, also; her voice has a nice warm, calming timbre that plays against the "sinking into isolation and insanity" theme of the song--as does the instrumentation. Short and sweet.
Song Seventy-Two: Tricky, "Dear God." Okay, this is definitely a cover of the XTC tune. It is ur-Tricky--hushed, threatening, ominous. When I played it, my daughter told me to turn it off because it was scary. There's a nice but expected counterpoint of Tricky's processed voice with a little girl-y voice (definitely someone Euro). Playing up the dark side of the song kind of diminishes the power of the original, which puts such a nice sheen on it that you don't hear the darkness at first.
Song Seventy-Three: Jean Yves-Thibaudet, Music from Pride and Prejudice. Well, I downloaded the whole album, so I thought I'd blog it. I absolutely love this soundtrack and the movie, too; I'm such an Anglophile Austen romance-sucker--windswept, surging, sparse, thoughtful, enveloping. This is perfect "listening to my iPod reading and studying" music, and I recommend it to all with a heart and soul. There's a great moment in the director's commentary when Joe Wright talks about how we tend to undervalue the wish-fulfillment aspect of movies. Embrace that wish, dear reader, the heath awaits!
292 to go.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Songs Sixty-Five to Sixty-Eight
Good gravy. I am so far behind. There must be some eleventh law of thermodynamics that says when one is off work--even for non-vacation, entirely worthy reasons--said work will compound in the manner of an inflationary interest rate. So, after returning from my quals break and wading through that quagmire, I spent the Monday of my official week off having minor dental surgery that turned less minor part way through. (Don't ever opt for vanilla-scented nitrous; it seems like a good idea at the time, but it isn't. At all.) (Oh, and I've learned that when you get stitches in your mouth, it kind of feels like you've got some permanently stuck floss in there somewhere. Incredibly irritating!) (Plus, one tires of pasta salad, rice pudding, and yogurt. Very quickly.) Thus, I spent most of this week thinking, "What is wrong with Kelly Rip. . . zzz," then "The View really is awf. . . zzz," ending with "Oprah wears a lot of eye makeu. . . zzz"--courtesy of my doctor prescribed meds. I never got to read Intuition, never got to sew, never got to rake leaves, and just this afternoon pulled together a presentation for a conference next week. Though, I should admit that I plowed through 5 TIVO'd Gilmore Girls episodes; I so dislike Logan, he is the new worse-than-Jess; America needs more Lane. And, I did get my landscape guy (who has an incredible Bachman Turner Overdrive affinity) to create a beautiful raised-bed herb garden. So, Martha of me!
I'm now going to take swats at the blogolapse a few songs at a time, to help engender a much needed feeling of accomplishment. So be prepared for a slew of short, punchy reviews after this.
Song Sixty-Five: big Sir, "Sarah Smile." Yep, still on the covers. This one starts with what my husband calls the ur-trip hop electronica loop. It is true that they're all pretty much the same; someone should be raking in the dough. Still, the vocals on the song work really well against the random electro-synth-tracks in the background. The lead singer has a nice voice that goes breathy rather than high and brings a new life to the song. I've always liked this song--total 8th grade prom!
Song Sixty-Six: Wyclef Jean, "Wish You Were Here." I saw Dave Chappelle's Block Party last week. Awesome! Big up for the Fugees. (Actually, everyone's good in it. And there's a nice rivalry angle between Jill Scott and Erykah Badu centered on the fantabulous Badu/Roots collaboration "You Got Me"--one of my favorite songs ever. And, Lauryn Hill made me cry. ) This is a typical Clef-cut. Clever, island-y, multi-layered with anthemic qualities. It's interesting in that he's somehow kept the essence, the throughline of the song, but really made it a new song to my ears. The paranoid distance has become physical distance to be traversed. Nice!
Song Sixty-Seven: Jonatha Brooke, "God Only Knows." Again with the synth-loop! I don't like most Beach Boys songs, but this is one I do. (Though Brian Wilson makes me so sad now. And, what is his beef with Johnny Cash?) This version kind of reassembles the studio layering and then contrasts it with Ms. Brooke's starker though clearly processed voice. The song also replicates the 60s/70s alternate speaker mixes, giving it a hipster retro-electronica feel. More emotion would have helped.
Song Sixty-Eight: chao, "Lay Lady Lay." I (truly) grew up in bars, and this is a total bar jukebox song to me. So, it's interesting to hear a version that sounds so much more like a Serge Gainsbourg duet (e.g., Bonnie and Clyde). The music holds remarkably true, complete with strings. Chao is actually a one-woman outfit, Regina Chellew, and on this song she duets with someone I've never heard of from a band I've never heard of (one-two punch). It's worth a listen, and I'm tempted to find the original to compare. My remembrance of things past makes me think they'd be quite similar. Maybe that's just the beer nuts talking.
297 to go.
I'm now going to take swats at the blogolapse a few songs at a time, to help engender a much needed feeling of accomplishment. So be prepared for a slew of short, punchy reviews after this.
Song Sixty-Five: big Sir, "Sarah Smile." Yep, still on the covers. This one starts with what my husband calls the ur-trip hop electronica loop. It is true that they're all pretty much the same; someone should be raking in the dough. Still, the vocals on the song work really well against the random electro-synth-tracks in the background. The lead singer has a nice voice that goes breathy rather than high and brings a new life to the song. I've always liked this song--total 8th grade prom!
Song Sixty-Six: Wyclef Jean, "Wish You Were Here." I saw Dave Chappelle's Block Party last week. Awesome! Big up for the Fugees. (Actually, everyone's good in it. And there's a nice rivalry angle between Jill Scott and Erykah Badu centered on the fantabulous Badu/Roots collaboration "You Got Me"--one of my favorite songs ever. And, Lauryn Hill made me cry. ) This is a typical Clef-cut. Clever, island-y, multi-layered with anthemic qualities. It's interesting in that he's somehow kept the essence, the throughline of the song, but really made it a new song to my ears. The paranoid distance has become physical distance to be traversed. Nice!
Song Sixty-Seven: Jonatha Brooke, "God Only Knows." Again with the synth-loop! I don't like most Beach Boys songs, but this is one I do. (Though Brian Wilson makes me so sad now. And, what is his beef with Johnny Cash?) This version kind of reassembles the studio layering and then contrasts it with Ms. Brooke's starker though clearly processed voice. The song also replicates the 60s/70s alternate speaker mixes, giving it a hipster retro-electronica feel. More emotion would have helped.
Song Sixty-Eight: chao, "Lay Lady Lay." I (truly) grew up in bars, and this is a total bar jukebox song to me. So, it's interesting to hear a version that sounds so much more like a Serge Gainsbourg duet (e.g., Bonnie and Clyde). The music holds remarkably true, complete with strings. Chao is actually a one-woman outfit, Regina Chellew, and on this song she duets with someone I've never heard of from a band I've never heard of (one-two punch). It's worth a listen, and I'm tempted to find the original to compare. My remembrance of things past makes me think they'd be quite similar. Maybe that's just the beer nuts talking.
297 to go.
Sunday, March 05, 2006
Songs Sixty-Three and Sixty-Four
Whew, my written quals are over! Thank goodness for Cabrera's explanation of applied logistic regression, which included a lovely graph that one could cite and then recreate from memory in WordArt. My two days of mega-studying were broken only by short bursts of Pride and Prejudice (2005) viewing, what a wonderful damp and mucky wish-fulfillment world. My Mr. Darcy bought me a new 4GB iPod, which helped create a lovely cocoon of sound before and inbetween my exam sessions, and 54 cans of Tab, which helped throughout the entire process. Still, I am completely filled with untapped knowledge about the Dartmouth Case, Hopwood v. Texas, the Yale Report, and the like--and would be willing to answer any questions you have about such matters, dear reader, since my committee did not deign to ask. Now, that's over, I can move on to serious pursuits, like watching the Oscars whilst cleaning the bathroom!
I'm still on the covers jag, so here are two more Oscar-themed ones to bring me current.
Song Sixty-Three: Elaise Piper, "Ring of Fire." Much more upbeat than the original. Rather than burning, I this ring slightly singes. Ms. Piper's voice is pleasant, and the song still has a driving push throughout, but it isn't really tortured. Stick with the original--and see Walk the Line. Oh, and the only thing I could find on the Internet about Elaise Piper is a picture of her with Brad Pitt, which may explain this song.
Song Sixty-Four: Nouvelle Vague, "I Just Can't Get Enough." Yep, it's the old Depeche Mode tune and my tribute to Brokeback Mountain. I haven't really seen the movie (it seemed too noble and enriching for my escapist ABCFamily made-for-tv-romance-movie soul), but I have, of course, seen just about every parody--good and bad. Brokeback to the Future is my fav. As for the song in question, it improves on the original about 1000x. Admittedly, I am no Depeche fan; DM is a band that seems like a self-parody. The Nouvelle Vague version is perfectly upbeat continental-loungey, with a universal euro bossa-vibe. It has a brushy percussion production, complete with whistles, that is enveloping. Fun!
I wish I could quit you, cover songs--but there will be more next week.
301 to go.
I'm still on the covers jag, so here are two more Oscar-themed ones to bring me current.
Song Sixty-Three: Elaise Piper, "Ring of Fire." Much more upbeat than the original. Rather than burning, I this ring slightly singes. Ms. Piper's voice is pleasant, and the song still has a driving push throughout, but it isn't really tortured. Stick with the original--and see Walk the Line. Oh, and the only thing I could find on the Internet about Elaise Piper is a picture of her with Brad Pitt, which may explain this song.
Song Sixty-Four: Nouvelle Vague, "I Just Can't Get Enough." Yep, it's the old Depeche Mode tune and my tribute to Brokeback Mountain. I haven't really seen the movie (it seemed too noble and enriching for my escapist ABCFamily made-for-tv-romance-movie soul), but I have, of course, seen just about every parody--good and bad. Brokeback to the Future is my fav. As for the song in question, it improves on the original about 1000x. Admittedly, I am no Depeche fan; DM is a band that seems like a self-parody. The Nouvelle Vague version is perfectly upbeat continental-loungey, with a universal euro bossa-vibe. It has a brushy percussion production, complete with whistles, that is enveloping. Fun!
I wish I could quit you, cover songs--but there will be more next week.
301 to go.
Sunday, February 26, 2006
Songs Sixty to Sixty-Two
Wow, there's gold out there in them thar iMixes, dear reader! I hit two supercool ones devoted entirely to covers. Hence, my theme this week (and next, I went a bit crazy with the downloads): everything old is new again. In some way, this theme was suggested by the process of my qualifying exams: tell us in some new way everything you've learned in the past few terms; oh, and do it while we have you locked in a room for a day and a half because this is likely to happen often in your career. Thank goodness this week is bookended by two fantabulous pop culture rituals: the Dancing with the Stars season finale and the Oscars. As always, spectacle saves the day by dulling the mind. Tonight, my money's on Drew Lachey because, in a weird coincidence, at this exact time last year, I spent a week in a hotel in NYC that directly overlooked a gigantic poster of Drew as some character in Rent. So, clearly, this is an omen. Plus, I really feel badly for his brother, so I'm sure a win for Drew would be a pick-me-up for the whole family.
Anyway, I'm frontloading this week since I know the backend will be a bit stacked. So, onto the first three covers . . .
Song Sixty: Ryan Adams, "Wonderwall." I don't know much about Ryan Adams beyond what I can pick up through much the general press--he's a confused manchild who should never leave home without his antidepressants or some enabling retinue to mind him. But, I do know that I could listen to the Oasis version of this song all day and still feel dreamy. So, I gave it a shot. There's an essential snottiness about Liam Gallagher's voice that Mr. Adams doesn't have. He's so earnest in his rendition; he kind of trails off with hopefulness everywhere the original had a taste of resentment. The production is sparse, and what's nice is that the beauty of the song is so plain. I would say it might be undeniable even to those who find the drunken brawling and grandstanding of the Gallaghers a bit much. (I find it to be all part of the road show.)
Song Sixty-One: Stina Nordenstam, "Purple Rain." My husband was once in a band that covered PR as kind of an alt-country tune--but you could still easily tell it was the Prince song. It takes quite a bit of time into Ms. Nordenstam's version before you even realize what song this is. This is not bad. She's got a classic little girl muffled Nordic delivery (think mid-Cardigans) with a real industrial gone emo backbeat. It's all slowed down, glacially paced, and in the process, it picks up an undertone of lost hope pleading that isn't really as present in the original. In this version, Fifth Avenue is located beneath about 10 feet of hard-packed surface snow, and each member of the Revolution is wearing a chunky knit hoodie and fingerless gloves. A truly original cover.
Song Sixty-Two: Supersuckers, "Hey Ya!" Again, I could listen to Outkast's song a thousand times, and probably really have. So, trust me, this version rocks!! The first time I ever encountered the Supersuckers, we were driving from Minneapolis (where my husband bought The Sacrilicious Sounds of the Supersuckers used based entirely on its title) to the UP. We listened to it several times on the long--though lovely--drive. And, you never forget a band with a song title like "The 19th Most Powerful Woman in Rock." So, I had to download this. They've kept all the joy, humor, and shimmy plus added a raw edge. You can hear the wear and tear of a rock life on the road in their voices and less-than-precise handclaps. Again, as with "Wonderwall," this covers lets the essential song-ness of the tune shine it's beauty through. Way fun!!!
303 to go.
Anyway, I'm frontloading this week since I know the backend will be a bit stacked. So, onto the first three covers . . .
Song Sixty: Ryan Adams, "Wonderwall." I don't know much about Ryan Adams beyond what I can pick up through much the general press--he's a confused manchild who should never leave home without his antidepressants or some enabling retinue to mind him. But, I do know that I could listen to the Oasis version of this song all day and still feel dreamy. So, I gave it a shot. There's an essential snottiness about Liam Gallagher's voice that Mr. Adams doesn't have. He's so earnest in his rendition; he kind of trails off with hopefulness everywhere the original had a taste of resentment. The production is sparse, and what's nice is that the beauty of the song is so plain. I would say it might be undeniable even to those who find the drunken brawling and grandstanding of the Gallaghers a bit much. (I find it to be all part of the road show.)
Song Sixty-One: Stina Nordenstam, "Purple Rain." My husband was once in a band that covered PR as kind of an alt-country tune--but you could still easily tell it was the Prince song. It takes quite a bit of time into Ms. Nordenstam's version before you even realize what song this is. This is not bad. She's got a classic little girl muffled Nordic delivery (think mid-Cardigans) with a real industrial gone emo backbeat. It's all slowed down, glacially paced, and in the process, it picks up an undertone of lost hope pleading that isn't really as present in the original. In this version, Fifth Avenue is located beneath about 10 feet of hard-packed surface snow, and each member of the Revolution is wearing a chunky knit hoodie and fingerless gloves. A truly original cover.
Song Sixty-Two: Supersuckers, "Hey Ya!" Again, I could listen to Outkast's song a thousand times, and probably really have. So, trust me, this version rocks!! The first time I ever encountered the Supersuckers, we were driving from Minneapolis (where my husband bought The Sacrilicious Sounds of the Supersuckers used based entirely on its title) to the UP. We listened to it several times on the long--though lovely--drive. And, you never forget a band with a song title like "The 19th Most Powerful Woman in Rock." So, I had to download this. They've kept all the joy, humor, and shimmy plus added a raw edge. You can hear the wear and tear of a rock life on the road in their voices and less-than-precise handclaps. Again, as with "Wonderwall," this covers lets the essential song-ness of the tune shine it's beauty through. Way fun!!!
303 to go.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
February iMix
The February iMix is now up at
http://phobos.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/
wa/viewPublishedPlaylist?id=723864
I've determined that iTunes must batch process entries into their database, so it will be a day or so before you can actually search for the list by its title: SAFTBRC February.
http://phobos.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/
wa/viewPublishedPlaylist?id=723864
I've determined that iTunes must batch process entries into their database, so it will be a day or so before you can actually search for the list by its title: SAFTBRC February.
Songs Fifty-Eight and Fifty-Nine
I have off next week to study for my quals but have, of course, already been called into work on Monday to chat with a visiting state official, so I'm going to jump ahead in my blogging. My chicken soup is simmering (new recipe!), the children are watching Stuart Little 3 (which really looks bad), my husband is hooking up our new DVD burner (so we can have a copy of Barbie: Mermaida for all eternity)--all meaning I've got a good 15 minutes to knock this puppy out.
Song Fifty-Eight: Graham Coxon, "No Good Time." Right off the bat, this song made me think "why did I download this?" Which is not a particularly good sign. I wonder if I hit the wrong "buy now" button. I wonder what I meant to buy. Hopefully something better than this. Ick. Pseudo singer/songwriter rock that sounds fairly sloppy. The guitar solo in this song actually made me do a half-laugh, as in "is he serious." When I found his website, it turns out he was in Blur, which completely explains my antipathy. I was totally on the Oasis side in the big Blur/Oasis slugfest that was mid90s britpop. Sorry, Graham. (Though, I do like Gorillaz.)
Song Fifty-Nine: Snowpatrol, "Spitting Games." Okay, this one I meant to buy. It jumps right in with both feet rocking. I like the driving beat, the obsessive teen-love lyrics, and electronica-chorus. There's just enough distortion to balance the pop. The song ends in a really nice, recorded-through-a-tin-can effect. Well, done, lads!
306 to go.
Song Fifty-Eight: Graham Coxon, "No Good Time." Right off the bat, this song made me think "why did I download this?" Which is not a particularly good sign. I wonder if I hit the wrong "buy now" button. I wonder what I meant to buy. Hopefully something better than this. Ick. Pseudo singer/songwriter rock that sounds fairly sloppy. The guitar solo in this song actually made me do a half-laugh, as in "is he serious." When I found his website, it turns out he was in Blur, which completely explains my antipathy. I was totally on the Oasis side in the big Blur/Oasis slugfest that was mid90s britpop. Sorry, Graham. (Though, I do like Gorillaz.)
Song Fifty-Nine: Snowpatrol, "Spitting Games." Okay, this one I meant to buy. It jumps right in with both feet rocking. I like the driving beat, the obsessive teen-love lyrics, and electronica-chorus. There's just enough distortion to balance the pop. The song ends in a really nice, recorded-through-a-tin-can effect. Well, done, lads!
306 to go.
Songs Fifty-One to Fifty-Seven
Another SAFTBRCAITD megapost coming at you. This has been a nightmarish week with parental health concerns and work surprises broken only by figure skating, eBaying, and a lovely few days of my own wicked stomach virus--which began, of course, on my birthday (a day on which I also got soaked in the rain twice and was regifted by a close family member. I mean, really, people!). That last parenthetical reminds me that I forgot to buy an umbrella at Target today, though I did get a cute silk throw pillow for $2.48 on clearance. And, we finally bought a garden gnome, which my son insists on calling a Wiggles Scarecrow; none of us are asking why. I am certain this gnome will make my life complete on some WereRabbit level. Though, as the virus is still a bit with me, I'll skip the cheese, Grommit, and settle for a glass of finely-aged Gatorade. Now, on to the entertainment.
Song Fifty-One: Onion Creek Crawdaddies, "Too Much Blood." This is a hootenanny hoot and a half. The remainder of the title lyric is "in my veins where the whiskey ought to be." I believe we have all had those days, dear reader. The song is a true knee slappin', sing along romp. Lots of jangly strings, including the requisite banjo. It's a bit of a poke at all the "O, Brother" bluegrass holiness, which is nice; OCC is from Austin (natch) and call their brand of fiddlin' beergrass. I just got an odd sideways glance from my husband as he wandered out the door to the store, so maybe it's not for everyone. Still, I say, YEE-HAW, y'all!
Song Fifty-Two: Phoenix, "Everything is Everything." Very, very catchy chorus. This is a well-polished pop song with every corner full of bouncy sounds, all of which sound a bit synthetic. Even before reading the band bio, I could tell they were some kind of Euro (turns out they're French); the song has that very Limited Express late 80s soundscape feel to it. Think banquettes and mirrored balls. The lyrics suggest a song heavily influenced by literary theory, which given its frenchicity is not unlikely. Extremely listenable.
Song Fifty-Three: Mates of State, "Goods." Apparently Mates of State is a fairly well-known indie band, reinforcing my out-of-itness as I've never heard of them. This is a fairly classic kind of indie pop song. Slightly annoying male lead singer, peppy female background vocals, organ/keyboards, shushy drums, distinct song parts (the overloaded-with-sound, the break-it-down, etc.). All that said, it's a decent song, though there's so much going on that I realized about the third listen that I consistently stop paying to the lyrics until the break-it-down part near the end (that also features an incongruous flying saucer sound that I initially ascribed to my clothes dryer). It does go on a bit, though.
Song Fifty-Four: Alexi Murdoch, "Orange Sky." I guess this is another OC discovery. Maybe I should start watching that show, though I can't help wax nostalgic for the Peach Pit AfterDark when it comes to teen music spotlights. Mr. Murdoch is a "singer/songwriter" (probably should be in all caps) like that guy on the now canceled Love Monkey. This song has a slow build and is inexplicably so soft at the beginning that you really can't hear him very well until about two minutes in. It virtually defines sparseness. Still, as much as I would prefer not to like this song--since I have a feeling Mr. Murdoch may eschew footwear and possess either a ponytail or aggressively sideways bangs, I do like it, surprisingly so. You might, too.
Song Fifty-Five: The Stills, "Lola Stars and Stripes." Definitely not sparse! This is a wall of sound from the get-go. Has a very Lush-vibe about it initially, but then the wall kind of peels away for the vocals, then re-emerges. This is a neat structure, you can almost see the music part for the lyrics to come center stage. You can also hear the longing in the song, which is nice. Overall, a quality, updated shoe-gazer tune.
Song Fifty-Six: The Thrills, "Big Sur." Rhymes with the Stills, but the similarity ends there. Any song that namechecks the Monkees is A-OK in my book. This is a bounce along, retro funfest. The chorus, "Just don't go back to Big Sur" is super catchy, as are the "doo-doo-de"s, as is the "baby, baby." All around goodness, I think, with weird zippery noises in the background. Music this authentically super charged-America 60s could of course only come from the UK, and the Thrills are from Dublin, it turns out, though they now seem to find their thrill in Montreal.
Song Fifty-Seven: Super Furry Animals, "Hello Sunshine." Okay, I picked this one completely for the band name, which seemed quite comforting in my virus-y state. The song itself is a bit narcotic-ly paced and, indeed, comforting in a drowsy way. It starts out with a little section that seems disconnected from the main song but serves as an entry point, kind of like its portico. There's something appealing about the way the lead singer says "m'life" for my life. The band is from Wales, which made me think of some fantastic vegetable soup I once ate in Aberystwyth that cleared up a vicious cold overnight. See, very comforting!
Note to this post. Look, I've tried to become interested in dropping a buck-minus for an Arctic Monkeys song, I really have. I know they are everywhere on both sides of the Atlantic. But, they are boring! So, clearly, though I'm a britpop sucker (I actually own a Robbie Williams cd and like it), I can't buy into this next greatest thing.
308 to go.
Song Fifty-One: Onion Creek Crawdaddies, "Too Much Blood." This is a hootenanny hoot and a half. The remainder of the title lyric is "in my veins where the whiskey ought to be." I believe we have all had those days, dear reader. The song is a true knee slappin', sing along romp. Lots of jangly strings, including the requisite banjo. It's a bit of a poke at all the "O, Brother" bluegrass holiness, which is nice; OCC is from Austin (natch) and call their brand of fiddlin' beergrass. I just got an odd sideways glance from my husband as he wandered out the door to the store, so maybe it's not for everyone. Still, I say, YEE-HAW, y'all!
Song Fifty-Two: Phoenix, "Everything is Everything." Very, very catchy chorus. This is a well-polished pop song with every corner full of bouncy sounds, all of which sound a bit synthetic. Even before reading the band bio, I could tell they were some kind of Euro (turns out they're French); the song has that very Limited Express late 80s soundscape feel to it. Think banquettes and mirrored balls. The lyrics suggest a song heavily influenced by literary theory, which given its frenchicity is not unlikely. Extremely listenable.
Song Fifty-Three: Mates of State, "Goods." Apparently Mates of State is a fairly well-known indie band, reinforcing my out-of-itness as I've never heard of them. This is a fairly classic kind of indie pop song. Slightly annoying male lead singer, peppy female background vocals, organ/keyboards, shushy drums, distinct song parts (the overloaded-with-sound, the break-it-down, etc.). All that said, it's a decent song, though there's so much going on that I realized about the third listen that I consistently stop paying to the lyrics until the break-it-down part near the end (that also features an incongruous flying saucer sound that I initially ascribed to my clothes dryer). It does go on a bit, though.
Song Fifty-Four: Alexi Murdoch, "Orange Sky." I guess this is another OC discovery. Maybe I should start watching that show, though I can't help wax nostalgic for the Peach Pit AfterDark when it comes to teen music spotlights. Mr. Murdoch is a "singer/songwriter" (probably should be in all caps) like that guy on the now canceled Love Monkey. This song has a slow build and is inexplicably so soft at the beginning that you really can't hear him very well until about two minutes in. It virtually defines sparseness. Still, as much as I would prefer not to like this song--since I have a feeling Mr. Murdoch may eschew footwear and possess either a ponytail or aggressively sideways bangs, I do like it, surprisingly so. You might, too.
Song Fifty-Five: The Stills, "Lola Stars and Stripes." Definitely not sparse! This is a wall of sound from the get-go. Has a very Lush-vibe about it initially, but then the wall kind of peels away for the vocals, then re-emerges. This is a neat structure, you can almost see the music part for the lyrics to come center stage. You can also hear the longing in the song, which is nice. Overall, a quality, updated shoe-gazer tune.
Song Fifty-Six: The Thrills, "Big Sur." Rhymes with the Stills, but the similarity ends there. Any song that namechecks the Monkees is A-OK in my book. This is a bounce along, retro funfest. The chorus, "Just don't go back to Big Sur" is super catchy, as are the "doo-doo-de"s, as is the "baby, baby." All around goodness, I think, with weird zippery noises in the background. Music this authentically super charged-America 60s could of course only come from the UK, and the Thrills are from Dublin, it turns out, though they now seem to find their thrill in Montreal.
Song Fifty-Seven: Super Furry Animals, "Hello Sunshine." Okay, I picked this one completely for the band name, which seemed quite comforting in my virus-y state. The song itself is a bit narcotic-ly paced and, indeed, comforting in a drowsy way. It starts out with a little section that seems disconnected from the main song but serves as an entry point, kind of like its portico. There's something appealing about the way the lead singer says "m'life" for my life. The band is from Wales, which made me think of some fantastic vegetable soup I once ate in Aberystwyth that cleared up a vicious cold overnight. See, very comforting!
Note to this post. Look, I've tried to become interested in dropping a buck-minus for an Arctic Monkeys song, I really have. I know they are everywhere on both sides of the Atlantic. But, they are boring! So, clearly, though I'm a britpop sucker (I actually own a Robbie Williams cd and like it), I can't buy into this next greatest thing.
308 to go.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
January iMix
In response to no demand whatsoever, I have created an iMix of all the January songs. Wasn't that thoughtful and proactive of me? You can find it on iTunes under "SAFTBRC January."
In so doing, I learned that if you forget your iTunes password, you are actually sent to a page entitled "iForgot." At that point, iThrewUp.
PS--I've heard folks can't find the iMix on iTunes. This link should work:
http://phobos.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/view
PublishedPlaylist?id=713918
In so doing, I learned that if you forget your iTunes password, you are actually sent to a page entitled "iForgot." At that point, iThrewUp.
PS--I've heard folks can't find the iMix on iTunes. This link should work:
http://phobos.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/view
PublishedPlaylist?id=713918
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