OxyMoron: Hipster Dork

Big Shoulders

2009-07-14T07:59:00.002-04:00

I feel like I'm still putting the pieces back together after an epic conquering of the Midwest. This has been one of my roughest years yet on the wedding circuit and we're not even halfway through it. All I can think of is Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson's exchange on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in Wedding Crashers:

"'Someday you'll look back on all this and laugh, say we were young and stupid."
"We're not that young."

I was on a bachelor party with 12 married guys plus the bachelor; 13 people who insisted on living vicariously through me. When you're in your 30's, your 20's seem farther away than any other point in your life. I guess if you're married with kids AND in your 30's, that distance is even greater. I'm 32, single, living the selfish life (when I'm not working) and it's pretty damn fun. I can see how this appeals to someone who has only recently left that kind of lifestyle behind. And I can understand the desire to snatch a bit of it back by seeing your buddy act like the younger dumber version of yourself. But man it takes a toll.

Having served this past weekend as a rear view mirror reflecting the simpler, carefree days of our now expired youth, it was a blast. It was some of the most fun I have ever had and I am blessed to have been doing it with my boys. Though as the last citizen of Never Never Land I don't think I can keep it up much longer. While everyone went home to their wives and kids I returned to my apartment, my shrine to adolescence, to finalize travel arrangements for the 3 other bachelor parties and 4 other weddings I will be attending this year. I'm a little exhausted just thinking about it.

Anyway, I'm prattling on about this in order to reach some kind of existential revelation. I woke up this morning, took a look in that aforementioned mirror, thought about this past trip to Chicago and came to a few decisions:

1) I don't need to drink quite so much.
2) I need to workout more than 3 times a week.
3) It's time to get off the wedding circuit.
4) I think it's time to settle down.

A few other Chicago-specific notes:

1) Wrigley Field is one of the greatest places on Earth. I almost cried when our trained pulled into the Addison Street station.
2) While I don't miss Midwestern winters, I do miss the friendly people.
3) I like nice girls. The crazy, freaky ones have their appeal but a nice girl will win my attention every time.

Comm Check

2009-06-18T08:44:00.000-04:00

1, 2, 3...

Playing Catch-Up

2008-01-31T07:52:00.000-05:00

It's not easy being a pretentious, posturing, egocentric, and elitist music snob. In part because there is so goddamn much popular music that it is hard to keep up. Every few weeks it seems that the new hipster band du jour is being touted -- and even more frequently than that if you follow the British music press -- while every few weeks I end up asking myself, "who the fuck is this?" (Answer: Arctic Monkeys, Ice Testicles, Tapes 'n Tapes, !!!, Band of Horses, Radiohead)

Now I consider myself an active music listener which by my definition means I actively seek out music. I read of lot of album reviews, I buy a lot of albums, and I attend a lot of shows. (Although the number of shows I see annually diminishes the older I get. Why do these bands have to go on so damn late? I need my rest.) To put it succinctly, I am into this shit. To put it not-so-succinctly, as Chuck Klosterman described himself at the beginning of Killing Yourself To Live, "I have more CD's than 99 percent of America but fewer CD's than 40 percent of my friends." This is an exhausting way to live...especially in the world of indie rock.

If you don't already know this, indie rock fans don't really like one another. They may in fact hate each other. It is the solipsist's genre of fandom, predicated on the breadth of one's knowledge, the obscurity of one's critical references, and the chronological superiority of one's appreciation of something. How much do you know, how abstruse is it, and how early did you know it? There is little room for genuine friendship when every person you meet is a potential reminder of your "academic" inferiority. To wit, I often go to shows alone and see the same people at the Black Cat and the 9:30 Club. I recognize them and they recognize me and we never so much as exchange a "hello." There's the guy with the beard, the guy in the leather jacket who I want to punch in the neck, the guy with the mutton chops and wallet chain, the guy in the thrift store pea coat and knitted scarf, the indistinguishable girls with Betty Page bangs...the list goes on and on and it is hard goddamn work staying hipper than the lot of them.

When it comes to hipster posturing one of my greatest handicaps is that I am always so late to the party (see: chronological superiority of one's appreciation for something). There have been the occasional moments of divine provenance where I was among the early-ish settlers; New Pornographers/Mass Romantic (dumb luck), The Hold Steady/The Hold Steady Almost Killed Me (inside information), Wilco/Being There (my subscription to Acoustic Guitar World). But in most cases I am unfashionably late to the party; GBV/Mag Earwhig, Pavement/Terror Twilight, Dismemberment Plan/Change, The Pixies/Doolittle (which I only bought after seeing Fight Club), etc. I guess I have grown slightly more in tune with "what is hip" since graduating from college those many (many) years ago but I largely remain woefully ignorant.

The most egregious example of my musical tardiness is the fact that all of my Elvis Costello albums (and there are many) are reissues that I purchased in the 21st Century -- it is pretty ridiculous to longingly opine that "few new albums are as awesome as Get Happy!" when said musical touchstone was acquired less than 5 years ago. So, what is the post all about? A confession, really, because I bristled when someone shit-talked the Buffalo Tom show I was at last week even though I thought the band was kind of lame when I heard them on My So Called Life a hundred years ago. I could have been Jordan Catalano...

The Exchange

2008-01-09T07:52:00.000-05:00

You know those prisoner exchange scenes in the movies? The ones where two opposing factions are parked on either end of a bridge, guns drawn, high beams on, and it's midnight. At the appointed time a battered, shaken, and possibly bound individual emerges from each set of headlights and begins making his way to the opposite side. The two pass somewhere in the middle distance and finally make it into the waiting arms of their compatriots from whom they had been taken. Doesn't ring a bell? Go watch the the foreign exchange program episode of The Simpsons from Season 1 and you'll have an idea.

Anyway, I think the closest everyday people ever come to a situation like that is the post-breakup exchange of possessions. That fuzzy time when a sort of calm has settled in and everyone is trying to make a return to his or her antebellum way of life. I had my Exchange Moment on Monday night and it was as awkward as to be expected. She gave me back the book and DVD that had been left at her condo. I gave her the money that I owed her from a plane ticket she had bought for a trip that we were supposed to take before I rather abruptly ended things. It's pretty fucked up...

But the one outstanding possession that lingers in Limbo is my black t-shirt (I know, what a cliche), my black Jimmy Page "Zoso" t-shirt to be exact. The shirt I have owned for over 15 years. My first "band shirt." Do I really want it back? Kinda. Do I really need it back? I don't know. It barely, I mean barely, fits me and she looks 1000 times better in it than I ever did. Perhaps it is in better hands.

Trippin' On A Hole...

2008-01-07T10:49:00.000-05:00

For the last week I have been tangoing with the good people of American Formalwear over at the Ballston Mall. You see they owe me money -- a refund to be precise -- and are dodging me with the usual claims of ineffectuality, "Uh well, we need to talk to the corporate office because as a franchise location supervisor I don't have the authority to yadda yadda yadda." Now this particular stall tactic doesn't bother me too much because I know there is an element of truth to it. I have worked in the Corporate Chain Service Industry and know well that the only thing that lowly employees are empowered to do is collect money, not return it. In fact, I am not so much upset as I am bewildered. And here is why...

Each year my friends and I host a black tie function on New Year's Eve which means that each year I have to go out and rent a tuxedo. This year, after having moved back to Ballston, I decided to rent from the closest location imaginable which turned out to be American Formalwear. The customer service rep was pleasant enough and everything was ready fro me when I picked it up on Dec 30th. I quickly tried the tux on in the store, the fit was close enough for a dark booze-soaked evening, so I went about about my business. Flash forward to NYE and I have just put on my newly rented tuxedo and am looking quite dapper. It's a bit early to head out to my pre-party destination so I sit down on the couch to channel surf and kill some time.

Mind you, this is the first time that I have ever sat down in these pants. I have only ever tried them on standing up. So I am sitting there smelling god, looking good, and feeling good and I glance down at my crotch. I know what you're thinking and what can I say, I check out my junk a lot. Usually to quietly sigh and wonder why there isn't more of it but that's a different post. Anyway, I glance down and notice this gaping hole staring back at me. The seam at the crotch had a hole in it and a tuft of the closest thing to sexy underwear that I own was staring back at me. What the fuck? I guess it was a magic hole because it only revealed itself in a seated position. There was no way I was going out like that so I scrambled to throw something together with the only decent suit I owned, left a voicemail with American Formalwear that I would be in hungover and pissed off the next day, and made my way out into 2008.

So why am I bewildered with American Formalwear? Because the best have come up with so far is to offer me store credit for the money I already paid for an unusable tuxedo. Question, what the fuck am I going to do with $140 of store credit at a tuxedo rental joint? I am not a maitre d', award show host, limo driver, or an agent for Her Majesty's Secret Service so I ask again, what the fuck am I going to do with $140 of store credit at a tuxedo rental joint? I guess it would be one thing if we were talking about Target or Olsson's where I shop all the time but how often do I need a goddamn tuxedo?

Panic

2007-11-26T22:43:00.000-05:00

The panic set in and I pulled the ripcord and as a result my Xmas list just got shorter by one name. (My previous post seems so foolish now.) It's strange to me that immediately afterward I feel compelled to write. I haven't had this compulsion in so long, maybe it's therapeutic. Who knows.

In the end, over the last three months I have set all manner of new personal dating records. I actually dated someone this long. I said "I love you" and meant it. I broke someone's heart. And I don't even know why but what's worse, I don't think she does. It's horribly unfair.

The worst part however is the inescapable sense of Relief that has overcome me. Is it because I ended something I knew could not last or because I am just that addled and unable to sustain? Jesus, I hope it's the former rather than the latter. I thought that I would have it all figured out at 30. Maybe I do but apparently my subconscious and I are not on speaking terms. Why the silent treatment? Whatever the case, 2008 and will begin much as 2007 did; single, ready yet terrified to mingle.

Elizabeth, I don't think I'll be RSVP'ing +1 to the wedding...but I am excited nonetheless.

What Would Miss Manners Do?

2007-11-13T12:30:00.000-05:00

According to the display racks at Target, Starbucks, and my other corporate consumption troughs, Annual Gift Exchange Day will "soon" be upon us. Normally this type of thing has no effect upon me because my Xmas shopping list is the same every year: something for the 'rents, something for my sister, and a few gag gifts for my buddies. Year in and year out this list has remained without variegation...until now. For whatever reason, be it fate or a healthy maturing, I have finally broken a longstanding personal dating record by staying with someone for longer than 4 weeks. Yes, I am 30 and heretofore the longest "relationship" I have been in is 4 weeks. But my debilitating case of Peter Pan Syndrome is for another (several) post(s).

The issue at hand today is, what do I get my lady friend for Christmas? What's the protocol? What's expected? What would Miss Manners do? I am so fucking addled that I have turned to the interweb to solve my dating dilemma. So I ask you, People of the Blogosphere, "got any ideas?" Actually, what I am really looking for is some perspective. How does one approach these "significant holidays" within the context of a new relationship? In order to help you answer this question for me, allow me to set the paradigm:

Length of Relationship: 3 months (to date)
Dating Status: serious
Long Term Potential: high
Themes Conveyed by Gift: fun, bright future, this is a good thing, etc.

Waddayathink?

The Hater

2007-11-05T08:17:00.000-05:00

During my usual check-in with the 9:30 Club's homepage, this little nugget caught my eye:

Jonathan Davis of Korn doing a Unique Acoustic Performance
w/ Godhead
MON. NOV. 19
$35.00

Things that make you go, hmm. Unique is certainly one way to put it but I think that tragi-comic might be the more accurate term to best adjectively describe such an event. Granted, my opinion is hardly objective since I believe Korn to be one of the most useless and a-musical pieces of sludge to litter the airwaves but I do recognize that the band's "music" provided a certain visceral charge for its listener base. In fact, I will recognize that as Korn's only redeeming quality as an entertainment act.

So when you strip away all of the 7-string guitar droning, the dangling atonal bass strings, and the thrashing drum beats, what exactly are you left with?

The raw central essence, the elusive double-helix, the primordial ooze from whence rap-metal came? I doubt it.

A unique acoustic performance? Technically, maybe.

Something gone horribly awry? Yeah, I think so.

A Toe In the Water

2007-10-10T08:42:00.001-04:00

Just feeling things out...the itch to blog is returning although I have nothing much of substance to relay. It always boils down to the same themes and backdrops anyway:

Dating Disasters and Triumphs -- eh, maybe.
Self-Absorbed Witticisms -- there may be a few rattling about.
Musical Minutiae and Life Cross-References -- always.
How Much More Ridiculous Can Radiohead Get? -- definitely.

Random 8

2007-08-15T16:20:00.000-04:00

I got "tagged" by a friend for this and since I have not posted in almost a month, it seems like a good way to get the juices flowing. However, contrarian that I am, I will not be forwarding said virus and tagging others. So without further ado, here are eight random facts concerning moi:

1. I have an alarmingly real man-crush on Hugh Grant.

I know that I have made self-deprecating references to this in the past, largely for "literary" effect, but it could not be more true. I dream of a world in which I wear bespoke-tailored English suits and brightly colored shirts everyday whilst charming atypically beautiful women with my literate and witty chatter. Alas, certain genetic traits prevent me from fitting into slim-cut suits or pulling off a "floppy" haircut so I continue to hold my candle in relatively silent shame.

2. I do not eat anything that involves mayonnaise in any way, shape, or form.

I believe that it is one of the foulest, allegedly edible substances on the planet and it bothers me to no end that it is automatically applied to one of my favorite foods, the club sandwich. Being present when I order a club sandwich is an awkward ordeal as I go through the same routine each and every time. I will make eye contact with my servers and hold their gaze for a few seconds to ensure that I have their complete attention. I then slowly and clearly announce my intentions to eat a club sandwich with NO MAYO. When saying "no mayo" I swipe my hand in front of me to emphasize the negative. I then wait for them to repeat my order, taking careful note that they mention the "no mayo" clause. In order to further embarrass any dining companions, I usually close with "this is very important" and then subtly allude to the temper tantrum that will follow should any mayo make its way onto my plate.

3. I am convinced that all of my friends will be engaged or married within the next year.

And this fucking TERRIFIES me. Given the choice between Fight and Flight, I am leaning towards Flight. As such I have begun some very preliminary planning with regards to moving away rather than sitting around and watching my friends jump the cliff...like lemmings packed in shiny metal boxes. Although there is a Catch-22 here since I am such an attention/compliments whore. I pathetically enjoy having my friends' wives and friends gossip about me and tell me what a "great catch" I am. That's certainly all over if I leave town. I imagine that I will stick around and either actually try having a Real Relationship for once or simply content myself with being crazy Uncle P to everyone's forthcoming offsping.

4. As I write this I am currently on a "family vacation" with my parents and sister.

Hopefully this will be the last of its kind. It would be tacky of me to complain given that I am in Hawaii on my folks' dime, but I will do so anyway. It seems that I am once again 8 years old. My sister and I will be crashing together for the duration of the trip but the issue is that presently, due to a booking SNAFU and a crowded hotel, she and I are sharing a bed just like the last family vacation 20+ years ago. Given the circumstances I have reverted to my old antics of shoving my arm under her pillow, intentionally farting in the bed, and generally being a miserable bunkmate (just because I can). She prefers straight violence and and will full-on kick me when I am least expecting it. And we have both taken to fighting over possession of a stuffed animal she picked up at the gift shop simply because it is there to fight over. It's all very mature.

5. I am a connoisseur of cable soft porn.

I actually find it far more titillating than all of the no-holds-barred filth available to me on the internet. Sadly, I point to this as one of the few signs that I am in fact not completely jaded. Perhaps this is related to my utterly less teenage years (and beyond) as my only sexual release was the masturbatory fodder I could find on late night cable. Having watched years of this stuff and still tuning in even now because hey, free "porn" (well not free but included in my exorbitant cables fees courtesy of HBO, Starz, et al), I can provide quite the objective analysis of any T&A that cable has to offer. If you really want to be shocked and horrified, feed me a few drinks and ask for my oral dissertation on the evolution of HBO original late night programming from Dream On to the Real Sex series to the recent reality fuckfest that is Cathouse: The Series. Scary stuff...

6. I adore the ellipsis.

...

7. I don't own a suitcase.

I travel a good bit but refuse to own a suitcase. When flying, no matter the destination or purpose of the trip, I simply stuff everything I can fit into my in-frame backpack. I like to think that it is some stupid, baseless rebellion against those enormous rolling suitcases I see people dragging all over the goddamn airport but I know that isn't true. It is because I am trying to hold onto this (false) notion that I am a worldly traveller who needs only his backpack and a sturdy pair of shoes...of course I am typing this while sitting in one of the nicest (read: expensive) resorts on Oahu's north shore so any delusions I have need to be stripped away. The ridiculousness of my not having proper luggage reached its apex when travelling to Seattle for a wedding I had a friend pack my suit in his garment bag so I could cram all of my shit into my pack. I am always thinking ahead.

8. I think I should become a wedding planner.

Having been to approximately 342 weddings in the last two years, I think I am absolutely qualified to provide blunt, no-frills wedding planning advice at rock bottom rates. I can tell you:

What a DJ should play -- It doesn't matter as long as there are good grooves, heavy backbeats, and strong melodies.
What a DJ should not play -- Treacly country songs about god, or America, or especially god and America.
How much a wedding band is really worth. -- About a fraction of what they are actually charging you.
How to do your table assignments -- Don't. Have extra tables and let your guests fend for themselves because coworker Bill and cousin Ira have absolutely nothing to talk about.
The number of scripted wedding reception events (speeches, dances, etc.) -- Minimize the shit out of this because they are all awkward and dull moments for your guests who have patiently sat through the ceremony awaiting the promise of free booze.

I've got lots, lots more but I don't want to give it all away for free. Me, bitter? Never.

Post-Independance Day Shout Outs

2007-07-05T09:32:00.000-04:00

Dmitri Young

You were a triple short of hitting for the cycle yesterday and you hit the first Grand Slam I have ever seen in person. Between you and the well-endowed beauty with the loose top who kept bending over in front of me, it was one helluva day at the ballpark. (A special thanks as well to Sweet Lou Pinella for intentionally walking Ryan Zimmerman in order to load the bases and pitch to the number 3 hitter in the National League.)

9:30 Club Email SPAM

Big ups for letting me know that the reunited Smashing Pumpkins (well, 50% of them at least) will be playing the club next week. Legitimately intrigued, I may go if only to relive a little late-90's ennui and loudly argue that Zwan is the greatest Pumpkins album ever.

Flight of the Conchords

Just when I thought that televised comedy could not get any drier, you "swoop" in and make me laugh at the TV for the first time since the inaugural season of 30 Rock ended. "Inner City Pressure" is easily six times better than anything Depeche Mode ever recorded.

Evan Dando

Wondering how you were able to make your guitar sound like J Mascis, I almost wrecked my car on the Toll Road flipping through the liner notes of the so-so "new" Lemonheads album. So what if everything you write sounds like an outtake from It's A Shame About Ray, you still had the wherewithal to have J rip some nasty riffs on a couple of tracks. Well played, sir.

Pabst Blue Ribbon

For a mere $30 you filled my entire batthtub with award-winning fun. I can't quit you.

iPhone

You managed to get hundreds of people to stand in line outside of the Clarendon Apple Store for the privilege of paying $500 for a cell phone. I've done some stupid shit in my life but nothing like that. Shine on, you crazy diamond.

The "Appetite" Rule

2007-07-02T07:42:00.000-04:00

Ah, the differences in age among those who are dating; or what the nerd in me likes to refer to as Age Deltas.

By some coincidental confluence of circumstances (how's that for a nice bit of alliteration?) the topic of age and dating has come up many times in recent discussions with friends. This past weekend someone asked me who was the, relatively, "oldest" person I had ever dated -- I was 25, she was 33. A few weeks ago I caught up with a friend who for well over a year dated a man almost 20 years her senior. And just prior to that I had a very interesting conversation with a female confidant of mine who suggested that if I am going to half-heartedly engage in blase dating situations, I should do so with women younger than me. The point being that due to biological concerns, callously stringing along women my age is tantamount to "wasting eggs" -- a solid point, indeed.

Now being in my 30, I am more conscious of my age and the age of the women that I meet. As the benchmarks of my Pop Culture Baseline remain static and time marches on, I become more and more anachronistic. "Who's Kelly Kapowski?" "That Transformers movie is based on a cartoon?" But you will get no argument from me that the fellas have it far better than the ladies when it comes to getting older and still being out there in the mix. If I "date up" or "down" it is regarded by my peers as some sort of lascivious conquest...not so for my female counterparts.

Anyway, I came up with what I have dubbed The Appetite Rule for determining the appropriateness (or inappropriateness) of the age gap between myself and some young lady whom I meet. You can adjust the metrics of the rule to suit your age, tastes and generation but the key is to pick a significant album from your formative years. Something that moved you. Then ask yourself, How old was this person when album X was released? For me, it's Appetite For Destruction. Therefore I have to ask myself, How old was she in 1987?

Recent application of the rule has induced several "oh, shit" moments for me. Give it a try sometime.

"Fight the Bite"

2007-07-02T07:35:00.000-04:00

I read this on a banner hanging above the Toll Road this morning. Apparently it is Mosquito Awareness Week...the fact that DC is built upon a swamp never seems to go away.

listen to me!
i'm on the stereo,
stereo oh
my baby baby baby baby baby babe
gave me malaria,
hysteria oh

You are what you read?

2007-06-22T14:16:00.000-04:00

Of late I have been cruising through Rob Sheffield's Love is a Mix Tape and getting misty-eyed at the notion of infatuation, geek fetish, and indie rock all colliding into one romantic endeavor. It has made me think about all of my mix-making and I must say, my forays into this realm have been impressively lame.

Like a lot of people, the first time I began recording music onto cassettes was off of the radio. My first radio (and I do mean radio rather than stereo) was a one speaker boombox with a tape deck which I received for Christmas as a 5-year-old living in Germany. When not listening to Walt Disney and Hans Christian Anderson stories on tape, the radio was permanently tuned to the one Armed Forces Radio station we could pick up on base. The two ubiquitous songs at the time were "Saturday Night" by the Bay City Rollers and Joan Jett's cover of "I Love Rock 'n Roll." The year was 1982 and those were definitely groovy days in Stuttgart. Admittedly I wasn't recording anything back then however I wanted to provide some context as to how bad ass I was at that age with my cords, Catholic Jewfro, and ghetto blaster.

So fast forward a couple of years and I am back stateside with my first bedroom I didn't have to share and the world's oldest Panasonic "hi-fi" with both AM and FM as well as a single tape deck. This miracle of 1970's solid state engineering, which currently resides in perfect working order in my parents' garage, is what my mother describes as "the only thing your father had before he had me." By the time we left Germany dad had upgraded to a 100W Pioneer monstrosity and thus the old Panasonic was handed down to me...I was in Heaven.

This was before I hit my growth spurt so the stereo was bigger than me. It had a big black tuning knob and I had to memorize where my favorite radio stations fell on the dial. The capacitors were so far out of spec that 105.1 FM, for example, usually lined up at about 103.7. But the tape deck was even worse. Resistant to change and not wanting to be bothered to do its job, it fought back like a prize fighter whenever you tried to manipulate it. The deck itself required a ton of force to get the cassette to stay seated. You had to slam your tape in there otherwise it would spit back out like Ravage ejecting from Soundwave's chest. And for whatever reason, the rewind and fast forward buttons did not stay down on their own (whether by design or default) which meant you had to stand in front of the damn thing holding a button down if you wanted to hear something again or skip something lame. Like the deck, the buttons required maximum force and I vividly recall crossing my middle finger on top of my index finger, hooking them onto one of the buttons, and practically hanging my entire body weight on the stereo in order to engage the damn thing. But I loved it.

This was when I first began taping the radio. I spent a lot time back then watching MTV and listening to the radio. At some point I had this revelation that if I recorded the radio, I could listen to the songs I like when their videos weren't on. So I stole some of my dad's blank cassettes and started recording whatever station it was I listened to in St. Louis at the time. At first I would just keep it handy and run over to the stereo and hit record when something I liked came on. Unfortunately I wasn't too quick on the draw so I had these tapes with "Jump" from the guitar solo on or the second verse of Scandal's "The Warrior." I was a pretty uptight kid so only having a portion of a song drove me nuts. I switched up my game and would just leave the tape recording for 45 straight minutes. This didn't work out too well either because it seemed like I never had anything but commercials and DJ chatter. I eventually gave up for a few years.

High school was when I graduated from making radio tapes to making dubs. My first CD player was a Christmas gift in 8th grade and to this day it is the only "stereo" I have in my home. It is a Panasonic CD player boombox with a single tape deck and (at last) a digital radio tuner. As soon as I got it I began buying my first CD's and dubbing them onto tapes I could listen to in my yellow Sony Sports Walkman. I was so anal retentive; I would only put one album on a cassette no matter the length. The stereo has a program function where you can program whatever tracks you wanted to play from a CD. Want to listen to "Love & Affection" four times in a row? No problem. I would put in a blank cassette and begin programming CD tracks, in order, until I got as close to 45 minutes as possible without going over. I would record that, flip the tape, program the remainder of the album, and finish it off. Many albums are barely (if even) over 45 minutes so I had all of these tapes with only one or two songs on side B (man, I miss "sides"). I never put anything else on those tapes. My dubs had to be clean. It was weird and unromantic and in retrospect, I fucked up.

Technology had to catch up with me and when I at last had access to a R/W CD drive, I began burning "mix tapes" sourced from my collection. And that was key, My Collection. If I am going to make a mix then it should be, no matter the theme, culled from my personal library (with some exceptions of course depending upon the occasion). My CD collection is a big part of my material existence, those things I own which in fact own me. It is something I take great pride in and, sadly, enjoy just staring at from time to time. It is not huge. My collection is substantive, but not yet significant. I enjoy Substance, but I crave Significance. I am not sure what it will one day take to qualify it as being significant but I do know that I am not yet there. I guess it's about the journey...whatever. One thing I do take solace in is that I believe I have achieved a healthy equilibrium between quality and quantity. There are enough to impress the sort of people who are impressed by that sort of thing, and yet not a lot of regrettable missteps from the past. I never participated in any of those Columbia House scams, never collected monthly CMJ compilations, and never plundered the back stacks at a college radio station.

So now I am tight. I have all the tools I need to make the mixes that score my roadtrips, make tolerable my workouts, please my friends, impress my acquaintances, and maybe someday dupe some poor unsuspecting girl into falling in love with me...or completely creep her the fuck out.

Separation Sunday

2007-06-17T14:20:00.000-04:00

I have been sitting in the office all day, sitting on my hands. I have to be here but I don't actually have much to do. Today, this entire weekend actually, is important at work and it involves a lot of convoluted organizing with constant phone calls and running between floors of the building. There are other people here doing the actual heavy lifting, but my job is to simply hold it all together and extinguish the flames when things begin combusting spontaneously.

One the one hand it kind of sucks. Last night I was in the wedding of one of my best friends and was unable to achieve the proper level of drunkenness appropriate for the occasion. Since the wedding was outside of Philly I had to "control myself" knowing that I would be on the road by 6am to drive the three hours straight back to the office from which I departed Friday afternoon. And it is a bright sunny day which means that right now while I scratch myself under the florescent gleam of my office's drop ceiling, all of the Pretty Young Things in my building are crammed around the tiny pool putting on a show for the buff, trucker-hatted contingent of our happy little residence. Not that I sunbathe but I am sure I could have found plenty of time to ogle during the twenty or thirty necessary trips to my mailbox.

On the other hand my comrades have it far worse. They are presently grunting in front of their computer terminals while I engage in pointless typing exercises on my blog. I also sneaked out to pick up a copy of Rob Sheffield's Love Is A Mix Tape to read between bouts of web surfing. Life could be better but it could also be worse...I can't wait to go home.

Getting Used To Disappointment

2007-06-14T08:18:00.000-04:00

"I guess I'll never have any grandchildren."

This is my mother's latest mantra. It is hard to say when this phrase began repeating itself regularly but it is now something that my sister and I hear at least once a week. Usually relayed to her friends (whose children seem to continually shit out offspring) or generally muttered to the heavens in a tone of resigned defeat, I suppose this statement is my signal to "stop dicking around, and settle down."

I had it good for a while. In the beginning (right after college), I was far too surly and self-absorbed to make for decent father material. Having landed a job just a few miles from my parents' house, I moved back in "temporarily" in order to save money to spend on useless consumables. Being the lazy house guest that I was my parents decided to kick me out after having overstayed my welcome by about two years. Given my constant freeloading presence, my lack of progeny was the last thing on my mother's mind during that time.

Then for a couple of years my sister was busy with school and training for a pretty significant career change. As a woman of Midwestern Catholic descent, it is a genetic imperative that my mother have some large overarching "issue" to fret about. Sis's Praxis scores and resume-building fit the bill nicely and I cruised well below the radar. Unfortunately that is all done now which leaves a dangerous "worry vacuum " to be filled by something, or someone, else.

My other countermeasure --my parents' 5-year-old neighbor (and my arch nemesis) -- was doing a good job for a while of squelching the baby talk but even that has turned on me. He used to simply keep my mother occupied with babysitting and little play dates but for whatever reason that does not appear to be quite enough anymore. Of late she has taken to giving the impression that he is going to usurp my spot as the Chosen Child by relaying all of the "cute" things that he does now (which are all just a clever manipulation on his part, trust me). The unspoken suggestion being that were I to simply hurry up and give her some grandchildren then this would all be a non-issue and we could get on with our happy lives.

It's hard to blame her. When you have retired and are approaching 60 it must be natural to want grandkids to occupy the rest of your days, I mean, it's what her parents got. So I am not entirely unsympathetic and try, in my own way, to assure her that things will ultimately work out but I really only seem to make matters worse:

"Mom, relax. The law of averages suggests that my having kids is an eventuality."
"What are you talking about?"
"The fact that techonology is not infallable."
"Are you drunk?"
"Eventually the contraceptive device that I, and whatever woman is goodly enough to perform sex acts with me, are using is going to fail and then 'presto', you're a grandma."
"I'm going to church. Get out."

D-Day

2007-06-06T14:42:00.001-04:00

Today is the anniversary of the D-Day invasion. My grandfather was there. Not at the Normandy landing but soon thereafter in the Ardennes, in the Battle of the Bulge. That part of his life is always sepia-toned to me. It doesn't seem like a real aspect of this real person's history but rather something on film or in pictures -- something iconic of which I can only appreciate and not relate.

My grandfather is lucky enough to not only have survived the war but to return home as part of The Greatest Generation. How cool is that? His generation got to win the the war, build the Federal Highway System, invent the suburbs...essentially lay the foundation for the modern America we live in today. My generation, it seems, will leave behind a legacy of slack and disaffection (if you believe Douglas Coupland). I guess I don't fare too well in comparison to everything grandpa did.

But in some ways, they did have it easier. When thinking about D-Day it occurs to me that his generation probably fought in the last truly righteous war. The last example of classical western warfare. The last time one could effectively point a finger to Good and Bad. We have had our chances (Sierre Leone, Rwanda, Darfur) but instead chose to wade into far murkier waters (Iraq, Bosnia, Iraq) to relive the mistakes of our fathers rather than the glory of our grandfathers. Times are certainly different now.

Here's a nod to my grandfather and his brethren, and here's hoping that things will one day be a little simpler again.

Why don't you love me?

2007-06-01T10:07:00.000-04:00

I take it rather personally when touring bands that I like do not come to town. "What did I do? I thought we were friends." This is the nation's capital which just so happens to be home to two of the finest music venues in the country. So where is the love? I think it is safe to say the no band on tour would ever not play New York, Boston, or Chicago. Why the hell isn't DC on that list?

I bring this up only because I have felt slapped around a bit over the past few months. It all started with The Police. I don't like reunion tours (except for The Pixies, Dinosaur Jr, the first Page and Plant tour, the inevitable GBV reunion, and the day when Uncle Tupelo reunites to play my 35th birthday party) but I am a huge fan of Stewart Copeland and Andy Summers' playing...and Sting's acting. I would love, love, love to see them live just once even if it cost me $75, a trip to the Verizon Center, and some stylistic bastardization of one of their hits. But alas, they are not coming to DC. Yeah they are headlining the Virgin Festival but I don't do festivals and I don't (necessarily) do Balm'r -- I'm high maintenance like that.

The insults later continued when Crowded House decided to reunite (even cooler than The Police reunion) but not come any closer than Philly. Come on, Neil! I buy all of your solo stuff and even have the last Finn Brothers album. Help a brutha out, I can't be driving to Philly on a school night. Anyway, the list goes on with Fountains of Wayne and Dino Jr as other notables but I don't whine much more than I already have.

The point is that I am left to wonder if DC somehow mistreated these bands in the past and now I am paying for it. To exposit upon this theory I present to you the most poorly attended shows I have ever seen in The District.

Signs Point To Yes @ The Velvet Lounge
crowd: 0
I didn't count as an attendee because I was in the band. This is one of the reason why I quit playing indie rock.

The Pernice Brothers @ The Black Cat
crowd: 75
This was when they were touring in support of World Won't End which I consider to be their best album. Why so few people were there, I have no clue but I was not at all surprised when the next time through the are they played IOTA instead.

Josh Rouse @ The Black Cat
crowd: 76
I believe this stop was in support of 1972. It felt oddly similar to the previously listed show.

Grant Lee Phillips, Kristin Hersch, and John Doe @ 9:30 Club
crowd: 120
Paradoxically, this show was dead for both inexplicable and patently understandable reasons. Those not there missed out on a duet where Grant and surprise guest Bob Mould performed "Fuzzy" and "If I Can't Change Your Mind." Awesome.

Life Lessons

2007-06-01T08:08:00.001-04:00

Following my experiences at Wolf Trap last night, please allow me to share a list of what I have learned from Huey Lewis:

1. Back To The Future is one of the fucking greatest movies of all time -- which therefore implies that Robert Zemeckis may be an idiot savant.

2. I am vindicated, so put your 20-sided dice in the air and wave 'em round like you just don't care. Why? Because it is in fact, hip to be square.

3. I very much enjoy watching young girls get drunk and dance.

4. White people cannot dance (except for Gene Kelly and maybe Donnie Wahlberg).

5. Sports still holds up.

6. I will someday be in a band called The Pinheads.

7. People who disagree with item #1 have no soul.

8. Indie rock kids who cannot appreciate the skill of a polished studio musician have no class.

9. I do not care what anyone says, a DeLorean would have been an AWESOME stage prop.

10. "Last night, Darth Vader came down from planet Vulcan and told me that if I didn't take Lorraine out that he'd melt my brain."

On a wildly divergent yet ultimately related topic, I am so glad to have partaken in bachelor party festivities that did not involve any strippers. Perhaps I am maturing (getting old) but I no longer have any interest in the last link of the sex industry food chain -- 1. Prostitution, 2. Cable Porn, 3. Internet Porn, 4. Stripping. Call me prude but I think my dollar bills are far better spent on beer and internet jukeboxes.

Guilt TV

2007-05-30T09:31:00.000-04:00

I define a "guilty pleasure" as something innocuous that you enjoy even though you think (or know) that it is wrong to do so. For example, salivating over the NCAA women's volleyball tournament is a guilty pleasure; tearing the appendages from insects is not. Another point I think it is important to make is that in addition to being innocuous, a guilty pleasure should be absolutely unironic. Now I enjoyed the first season of The OC as much as anyone but it was wrongly described as a guilty pleasure. Most people (myself included) appreciated it in a knowingly ironic sort of way, "I love how the show pokes fun at how trashy it is." That is just way too meta for something one "shouldn't" be enjoying. Guilty pleasures are not allowed to be self aware -- they should be legitimately enjoyed at face value.

To further illustrate my definition and application of the term "guilty pleasure," we shall use myself as a test subject. And let's stay within the medium of television since that is where the notion of guilty pleasures is used much of the time. I think it is safe to say that my taste in television programming skews toward the Pretentious Dickhead end of the spectrum, meaning that I believe the following list of shows to be examples of top-notch TV writing:

Battlestar Galactica
News Radio
The Wire
Arrested Development
30 Rock
Deadwood
The Office (BBC)

Essentially, I tend to like shows with high critical praise and low ratings (see: Pretentious Dickhead). So the way this typically works out is that my guilty pleasures are the inverse of what I openly enjoy, in other words bad television. What is a good, unironic example of this? Designing Women. I actually watch reruns of Designing Women on Lifetime every now and again and what can I say, I like the show. I guess there is just something about four perimenopausal southern white women with an indentured black manservant that speaks to me. However what this really shows is that I view a guilty pleasure as something to be looked down upon. Designing Women is a "bad show" and I therefore "shouldn't" like it because to do so goes against my very self-conscious self-image as an enlightened Pretentious Dickhead.

The reason I bring this up is because I was wondering what a guilty pleasure is from an alternative perspective. What does the average American TV-watcher consider to be his guilty pleasure? Even better, what does the average American anti-intellectual TV-watcher consider to be his guilty pleasure? Yeah, what does Sean Hannity like?

Mssr. Hannity should serve as an excellent test subject if only because I caught a bit of his show a couple of weeks back following the death of Jerry Fallwell. A point-counterpoint segment was featured with Ralph Reed openly fellating Falwell's alleged legacy while Christopher Hitchens went into one of his acerbic screeds accusing Falwell of treason and other high crimes and misdemeanors. Taking offense to Hitchens' statements and with no substantive counterargument, Hannity proceeded to dismiss Hitchens as a "pseudo-intellectual." An amusingly desperate bit of name-calling, I thought, but it nicely sets up Hannity as the straw man in my non-argument.

So let's assume that Sean Hannity is an Everybody Loves Raymond kind of guy. Or maybe King of Queens. OK just about anything on CBS; broadly appealing programming that the harsher critics (those jaded, pseudo-intellectual misanthropes) may dismiss but millions upon millions of Americans enjoy on a weekly basis. What then is this populist Average Joe's guilty pleasure? Now I imagine that there are some people who enjoy the thought of certain conservatives secretly indulging in their repressed, deviant sexual instincts. Perhaps Mr. Hannity does watch Sex & The City if only to see the "chick from Porky's" say cock thirteen times or go down on a gay guy, and perhaps he does feel "guilty" about it. But I don't think this qualifies as a "guilty pleasure" since he really is just indulging in a base desire (allegedly) that for business reasons he is forced to suppress throughout the workweek. No, his guilty pleasure would have to be something he "knows" he "shouldn't" like but cannot help but enjoy anyway. So where does that leave us?

Does this mean that his guilty pleasure would have to be some cynically high-brow pseudo-intellectual crap that he would never admit to watching? Would he secretly watch his DVD's of Arrested Development, snickering at all of the absurdly referential plot lines, or knowingly nod his head at The Wire's illustration of failed American drug policies? Is it possible that a guilty pleasure could be something "so good that it is good?" I think I just blew my mind...

Time keeps on tickin', tickin'...

2007-05-28T08:46:00.000-04:00

I have often been told by a friend or an acquaintance that he or she has "outgrown" something. Whether it be X-Box Live, or Days of Our Lives, or body shots with strangers, when viewed in the condescending light of a new found maturity whatever "it" is, is no longer appropriate. The most frequent application of this phrase seems to be in reference to one's friends, "I don't know, I feel like I've 'outgrown' my friends." The inner analyst in me will always translate this to mean that, "I'm tired of getting fucked up as a source of amusement. I need classier friends."

Fair enough. I can certainly see how a social scheme that involves group drinking and whatever reprobate shenanigans ensue might be found tiresome by a portion of the population.

Fable #1
As a hypothetical, let's say that two friends find themselves somewhat over served at happy hour last Thursday. In a populist attempt to spread the joy, the two begin barraging a third friend with phone calls and text messages to join them on the Carpool patio as he resides a mere one block away. Now let's say that this third person is actually at home but studying for a professional certification exam which was far more important than the recently elapsed happy hour special on domestic draft. Never ones to be discouraged by a failed first charge, the two libertines skittered through traffic across Fairfax Drive to the 7-11 on a mission to bring the mountain to Mohammad. Six dollars later, Number 3 answers the knocking on his door to find two drunks standing in his hallway with bursting bladders and 120 ounces of malt liquor. The End.

The point of that rambling, Aesopian tale is that I do get how people can feel as if they have outgrown a group of friends. But that is usually a look from the top down. What about from the bottom up? Have you ever felt that perhaps your friends were "outgrowing" you?

Fable #2
For our second hypothetical, take the case of a large group of college friends who at one point in the mid-90's (think O.J. Simpson, Rusted Root, and Milwaukee's Best Ice) all lived on the 7th floor of a certain dorm at a certain university with a long name in the mountains of southwestern Virginia. Through the mediums of softball, alcohol, and nuptial after nuptial, these friends managed to stay closely connected up to the present day. Among their group traditions is the annual pilgrimage to a friend's lake home where each Memorial Day weekend for the last seven years there has been much eating, drinking, and merriment. Like any living organism, the nature of this journey evolved over time as evidenced by people entering serious relationships, then marriages, and then child-rearing. As a reflection of this, girlfriends and then wives and most recently children began to join the annual festivities. To their credit, the lake trips remained as light-hearted and fun as ever even while many, well most, actually just about all had moved on to the Next Phase of their lives. With another couple getting engaged at the most recent Memorial Day trip the passenger manifest became firmly locked down with all of the regular attendees being either married to one another, engaged to one another, or "seriously dating" one another. That is of course except for the hero of our tale who is the consummate bachelor and the lone shot of singleness in this largely betrothed cocktail.

While he vainly enjoys the public attention his bachelor status yields at this event, upon reflection of the past seven years (especially in light of the most recent engagement) our hero was left to ponder, "Have my friends outgrown me?" For 99% of the group, the weekend at the lake serves as a respite from the stresses of home, hearth, and family offering an opportunity to imbibe and revel in the days of yore. Our hero on the other hand approaches each year from an opposite route. He looks forward to his weekend at the lake as a respite from the intensity of his constant social solipsism (see Fable #1) which he views as his time to "dial it back" for a few days. Fortunately these two curves intersect at the same intended point but he wonders if this will continue to work out in the years to come. As more conversations turn to marriage and mortgage, will our hero have anything to contribute other than his cynically pragmatic philosophy of The Avoidance of Both? Perhaps no.

As long as he continues to look forward to and enjoy his days at the lake, his presence each year is assured. But it is hard to believe that this will continue on forever. To be 30 and still renting an apartment in Arlington makes a certain statement, whether it be subtle or overt, about how one plans to spend his off-work hours and it does not involve trips to Home Depot or Bed, Bath & Beyond irrespective of how much time you may have. That is not a judgement in the positive or negative but it does point to a future incompatibility with what may soon become your friends' family getaway.

Friday 8-Track

2007-03-23T15:57:00.000-04:00

One of the books I am currently reading is Perfect From Now On: How Indie Rock Saved My Life by John Sellers. Not to slam the guy, because I am enjoying the book, but it basically reads like a second-rate Chuck Klosterman book who just so happens to be a colleague of his at Spin. And if you don't have a pretty serious relationship with the material (i.e. the music he gushes over) then the book is almost unreadable. That being said, I kinda like it. The book originally caught my eye only because of the title which is lifted from Built To Spill's third album -- I have an ongoing debate with a friend who feels that Perfect From Now On is the band's masterpiece while I contend that the follow-up, Keep It Like A Secret, is even better. These arguments involve a lot of incredulity and "Can you believe this fucking guy?" glances to bystanding friends who shrink away and treat us like lepers during these often public moments.

Anyway, I see the title on the spine and guffaw rather loudly in the middle of the store because I think that someone has actually bothered to write a biography on Built To Spill. To be sure, they are one of my favorite bands and I revere Doug Martsch's quirky guitar genius but if I had to guess, I would say that they would make for one of the least interesting biography subjects ever published. Although it turns out that the book is really about one man's obsession with a certain broadly define genre and specifically New Order, Joy Division, The Smiths, Pavement, and the band to whom he devotes the most ink, Guided By Voices. I have now been inspired to offer my own meditation on why I too think that GBV is the greatest band in the world (a band that I have flown across the continent to see on their final tour and who forced me to buy two copies of the same "greatest hits" compilations because one was track-sequenced chronologically and the other was sequenced by GBV mastermind Bob Pollard for maximum effect) but for now, I devote an entire Friday 8-Track to them.

"Bulldog Skin" - Mag Earwhig

The song that started it all for me and the reason I fell in love. I got on the GBV bandwagon late in the game and in retrospect, this album marks a departure from the homemade lo-fi sound of their "classic" era. But I don't think I would have been ready for that if I hadn't first been exposed to the big sound on this album, particularly the playing of then-new guitarist Doug Gillard. The unconventional yet seemingly perfect guitar solo of this tune had me at hello.

"Echos Myron" - Bee Thousand

If someone asked me to describe GBV in about two minutes, I would simply play "Echos Myron" and grin. The songwriting is absolute Bob Pollard and contains a fantastic lyrical juxtaposition between the somewhat poetic line "Man of wisdom and man of compromise. Man of weak flesh in armoured disguise," followed shortly thereafter with one of my all-time favorite Pollard moments, "And shit yeah it's cool!"

"Glad Girls" - Isolation Drills

Want to see 1200 people all jump in unison? The song opens with Bob yelling the intro "Hey-ey Glad..." and the band comes crashing in on "Girls!" and everyone goes insane and it takes you a moment to realize that you are pumping your fist and screaming every word. But when you do it is sublime. I dare anyone to listen to this song (cranked up) and not bob his head.

"Game of Pricks" - Alien Lanes

If you can write a good hook with a great lyric or great hook with a good lyric, you can rule the world. Bob is king. "I climb up on the house, weep to water the trees."

"Cut-Out Witch" - Under the Bushes Under the Stars

I like to think that this song is about a magical witch made of construction paper that sort of "comes to life." Although it sounds a lot spookier than that and rocks way harder than anything I ever made with safety scissors and edible paste.

"Exit Flagger" - Propeller

I am running out of different ways to say, "GBV is the singular exemplar of indie rock and here is another reason why." (And yes, I am aware of how prone I am to making hyperbolic declarations.)

"I Am A Scientist" - Bee Thousand

Now I am getting way too worked up and need to drop everything and rock out in my apartment for at least an hour. (Best New Year's Ever: '01-'02 NYE spent in my basement shit-faced on Iron City with nothing but my stereo and every GBV album I owned. There may still be a collection of voicemail messages documenting that night's descent into madness.) The main reason I flew to San Diego to see their farewell tour was because of one line in this song.

"Motor Away" - Alien Lanes

That's it, time to rock. Enjoy!

Take me out tonight...

2007-03-22T07:32:00.000-04:00

...Where there's music and there's people
And they're young and alive

It's usually the shows about which I am most ambivalent that turn out to be surprisingly good. Last night I went to see Pete Yorn for, I don' t know, the fifth time. He is one of my guilty pleasures which means that he is an artist I enjoy but offers me no hipster/indie-rock cred. (The attendant gaggle of drunken meatheads and soho's at his shows is one reason why.)

Anyway, I wasn't really feeling like going out last night and I was gonna blow off the show but I shook the lazy out of my weary bones and shot across the bridge to the 9:30 Club. And I am quite glad that I did. Not only did I have two pleasant encounters with friends whom I was not expecting to see at the show (this is such a small town) but also, Mssr. Yorn played two juicy covers that were likewise unexpected. The first one dovetails nicely with a thread from the previous post about a cover of "Tumbling Dice" I once saw Son Volt perform at the 9:30. Well last night the man and his band broke out "Dead Flowers" which was spot on excellent since he has added a new touring guitarist who also plays the pedal steel. Joe Kennedy's hot licks got lost in the mix but other than that it was sweet.

The second cover I should have expected since he played it the last time he was in town, and seems to always a Smiths tune at his shows -- "Panic" was the norm for a while. So he declares that "this is one of my favorite songs" and jumps right into the choppy-chorded intro for "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out." I was giddy as a school girl...

Welcome to the Sexy Years

2007-03-19T07:30:00.000-04:00

As of March 19^th 2007, this compilation is thirty years in the making. I did not make mix tapes during my awkward teenage years but since it has become retroactively cool to have done so, I am rather desperately jumping on the bandwagon well behind schedule. However unlike most mix tapes where the editor attempts to convey some sentiment via the art of others more gifted than he, usually unrequited infatuation, I am simply trying to score the film that is my life at 30. Some of the songs do have themes to which I am particularly sympathetic at this milestone, but the only real aspiration I have for this endeavor is that I end up with a setlist that still rocks well after my thirties.

Bu before we count it off and kick it in, I want to emphasize that this is me at 30 as opposed to up to and including. This will help to explain such omissions as Crystal Gayle, most of Poison’s back catalog, anything form my college tape-trading days, and a few others from times gone by that would probably make me seem less cool than I like to think I now am. Like I said, I want this thing to age well. So what I have ended up with, hopefully, is something that for everyone I give this to will be a little reminder of me…and possibly the best fucking mix ever. Enjoy. I leave you with the following stolen pearl of wisdom, heed it well:

“This music has been mixed to be played loud, so turn it up.”
- The Cure, Disintegration liner notes

1. "Pounding" - Doves
2. "Tumbling Dice" - The Rolling Stones
3. "Lit Up" - The National
4. "Shut Us Down" - Camper Van Beethoven
5. "Always In Love" - Wilco
6. "Sting Me" - The Black Crowes
7. "I Am A Tree" - Guided By Voices
8. "Song Remains The Same" - Led Zeppelin
9. "Walking To Do" - Ted Leo + Pharmacists
10. "Talk Of The Town" - Pretenders
11. "Bones" - Radiohead
12. "Stereo" - Pavement
13. "Money City Maniacs" [live] - Sloan
14. "This Boy Is Exhausted" - Wrens
15. "You've Got To Pay" - The Bigger Lovers

Beware the Ides+1 of March

2007-03-16T07:15:00.000-04:00

Although it is Friday, the 8-Track will not make an appearance today as I am saving it up for my birthday "mix tape" on Monday. The working title of this fledgling composition is 30: It's Here, Deal With It but I suspect there will be a revision.

(As a random aside, and not that anyone really cares, that Nelly Furtado song will not be included even though I find it oddly compelling in a "Who Let The Dogs Out?" kind of way.)

Anyway, I want to focus this weekend and actually produce as many copies of this thing as possible so I can give them to my friends. A testament to my own awesomeness, it shall stand as my Ode on a Grecian Urn but instead of all that "Beauty is truth, truth beauty" nonsense, something stolen from the liner notes for Disintegration will close out this masterpiece.

Daydreaming

2007-03-14T21:07:00.000-04:00

Rather than write a book, I think about what an interesting premise for a book would be and then do absolutely nothing with it. My greatest moments of inspiration typically arrive when I am supposed to be working but I instead "just sorta space out for about an hour" and follow my wandering mind. Here is currently what I have in the mental hopper:

The first story is a blatant cash grab. The ultimate point of that endeavor is for it to end up as a film but I figure that simply writing a screenplay has a low yield percentage so my odds of success would increase (fractionally) if the story was first published as a marginally successful paperback and then optioned by some Canadian production company with poor taste and (relatively) deep pockets. In an ideal world, the film would be as successful as say, a Van Wilder or some shit. You know, a movie that most people recognize the name as being that of a film and just commercially successful enough to afford me a down payment on a nice condo and maybe an invite to a few Maxim parties. Is that too much to ask? We're not talking about millions in take-home, just a few hundred thousand.

Anyway, the premise for that one is ridiculously dumb. Following the breakup of their semi-well known indie rock band, the two remaining members are in deep financial debt to the major record company which subsumed their independent label and shelled out a lot of cash for the duo's disastrously ambitious and now unfinished next album. But rather than write them off and send the duo spiralling into Chapter 11, the label decides that money can still be made off of them -- or at least they can be used to defer some other external costs.

The label has a problem. It has sunk a lot of money into producing, branding, and marketing a young female singer whose image is as contrived as Britney Spears' or Ashley Simpson's, but they are attempting to present her as some kind of "authentic" rock artist. To date she has achieved marginal success but may actually be on the cusp of a real commercial breakthrough. The label's biggest problem however is that she is an absolute diva and unbearable to be around. She is cruel and critical of her backup musicians, even though she has no real musical taste and no clue what she is being critical of, and subsequently most of the session musicians in the union won't work with her. Her backup band has quit and the label has already committed serious coin to a major tour. No band, no tour. And in come our indie rock heroes.

Rather than trying to cobble together a whole new set of musicians and risk another mutiny, a sympathetic A&R rep at the label (female - potential love interest, perhaps?) has the "brilliant" idea to conscript the two guys into service as part of the touring band for Ms. Pain-in-the-Ass. Because of their debt, the guys can essentially be forced in to slave labor and can't quit midway through for fear of legal and financial repercussions. Double bonus for the label as the two might also lend an ounce of credibility to the image it is trying to construct for its star. Hilarity ensues...

So there's the premise. I figure one of the guys will be the socially awkward yet inventively brilliant guitarist and the other will be the wry and level-headed bassist who also happens to be a pretty talented songwriter (he'll most likely hook up with the A&R chick at some point). There will also be a ridiculous "inside" gimmick where the two guys are always jamming on Pavement tunes between rehearsals, although the band will never be mentioned by name, and always talking about Built To Spill, although the band's music will never be heard. For whatever reason, I find that funny. Now, there are several fatal flaws with this story a few of which being:

There is never any shortage of young session musicians who will suffer just about any abuse if it means they can go on a large corporate-sponsored tour.
A couple of scraggly indie rock guys with a minor cult following will do nothing for the commercial fortunes of a fledgling pop idol.
It's dumb.
I think there might already be a movie about this.
There are only so many times I can use a joke where the guys' cobbled together and well-used gear keeps breaking down in rehearsals.

Anyway, it should be a smashing success and I will be mildly rich sometime soon.

In the meantime I will also be working on my other book which is based on an amalgam of two of my friends and their storied and tragi-comic dating experiences. In it, I get to be the sardonic narrator and third party observer.

The Digital Domain

2007-03-09T13:50:00.000-05:00

(I think I may have blogged about this before but cannot exactly recall. Apparently I am getting old and running out of ideas.)

I don't download music. Shit. I'm not writing an op ed for the Moonie Times so opening with a blatant lie is probably not a good thing. Yes, I do download music - illegally. However I only download crap I would never buy like "You're the Best Around" from the Karate Kid soundtrack which I like to listen to while I am at the gym, or Madonna tracks for Vogueing about my apartment. But the point of this is not a moral rationalization for my rampant use of Limewire (for which I am karmicly in the clear since ASCAP gets a nice chunk of my income per annum) but rather an exposition on why I still buy CD's in light of iTunes.

For starters I want to kill the fallacy that I need to "go digital" with my music collection as has been asserted by some acquaintances. My shit is digital. Long ago the indentions on magnetic tapes that were induced by the wondrous sound waves generated by my favorite musicians were sampled, converted to one's and zero's, and digitally stored on a compact disc. So there, I'm digital. I suppose what they really mean to say is that I should consolidate all of my bits (pun intended) and pieces of music into one compressed and space-friendly storage medium. And that is where this diatribe really begins.

I don't own an iPod or any Apple product for that matter. I can't stand their proprietary format nonsense when it comes to the mp3's they sell and generally, I don't care for the premium they place on all of their products as transaction cost for joining their weird expensive subculture. Yadda...

But I do own an mp3 player of which I am very fond and utilize on a daily basis. However this only occurs in one specific situation; when I am travelling on foot (and yes, running in one place on a treadmill counts). In this instance I do enjoy the micro-sized portability of my music collection without the burden of discs and jewel cases and wonderfully enlightening liner notes but that is only because I am trying to get from point A to point B and am without a cluttered backseat and a combustible engine. Otherwise, I need my collection. I need them all. I need every album divided by sub-genre, alphabetized by artist, arranged chronologically (with reissues sitting next to original pressings), and all consolidated into one monstrous wall-occupying space upon which I can gaze longingly and revel in how cool I am. How cool I am.

I was pretty shocked not too long ago when a friend who has been quite the auteur since high school (a time when I still thought Physical Graffiti was the closest thing to perfection) copied every one of his CD's onto his hard drive and sold them all. I was aghast. He described it as a liberating experience but I am far too bound to my possessions to even contemplate the psychic benefits. I mean, how am I supposed to seduce women in my apartment without a kick ass album collection to peruse?

"Oh, wow. You have a lot of cool CD's."
"Thanks. I have some more in my room..."

Friday 8-Track

2007-03-08T21:11:00.000-05:00

Once again short on ideas and/or inspiration, this week's playlist is a mish mash of songs that have been running through my head lately. Maybe you can connect the dots because I sure as hell can't. At least it makes for an interesting sonic Rorschach test.

Smoking Popes - "Pretty Pathetic" - Destination Failure

Josh Caterer has a knack for sounding absolutely pathetic in the midst of a good rock song. And now in that awful emo kind of way. The guy in this song is indeed "pretty pathetic" but the big kick at the end tells you why. And the song is funny to boot. I caught myself singing it out loud on the way home from the gym yesterday to the amusement of several other pedestrians on Wilson Blvd.

Tommy Keene - "Carrie Anne" - Sing Hollies In Reverse

I can't remember how I first came across this version of the Hollies classic. Covering a song is a tricky thing (not for a cover band -- because they don't really count -- but for a legitimate artist releasing the material of someone else) and I believe you either have to stay absolutely true to the original or go way off of the map. Keene opted for the former on this take and given that his "stylistic legacy" is right in line with the Hollies, it works. The song does lose some of its bounciness as Keene's baritone is heavier than Allan Clarke's and Grahm Nash's lilting tenors, but the drive of the tune is still there. Meta Power Pop. Good stuff.

Concrete Blonde - "Joey" - Bloodletting

Johnette Napolitano's voice has a way of just hanging around for me, and the same is true of Chrissy Hynde. Anyway, I went with the obvious "hit." You know who didn't get enough credit? James Mankey. Good guitar player...

Neil Finn - "She Will Have Her Way" - Try Whistling This

A beautiful pop song about being a sucker. Yeah, I can relate.

The Allman Brothers Band - "Little Martha" - Eat A Peach

Now I know how this one got in my head. I was driving home the other day and it was used as interstitial music on All Things Considered. A pretty song, it is one of the first songs I learned how to play when first discovered open-tunings. I'd be hard-pressed to play it off the top of my head but I think it is tuned in open-E and played in the key of A (capo 5). Now I have something to work on this weekend.

Prince - "I Wanna Be Your Lover" - Prince

This one I heard somewhere recently. I think I was out somewhere, most likely drunk, and ever more likely, falsetto'ing along. This is one of my favorite Prince tunes even though it is from a stage in his career when he was still working out his own style. I mean if you heard someone else playing it, and had never heard the song before but were familiar with Prince's oeuvre, you probably wouldn't think it was a "Prince song." At least I wouldn't. But that doesn't change the fact that it is a nice jam.

Bob Dylan - "Stuck Inside Of Mobile With The Memphis Blues Again" - Blonde On Blonde

"AAWW, Mama, Can This Really Be The End...Down And Out In Vegas With Amphetamine Psychosis Again" What a great chapter title. This song and that book will always be linked in my mind. As far as I am concerned, this album represents Dylan's crowning musical achievement and this song is the standout.

Hollies - "On A Carousel" - any one of a thousand different compilations

More Hollies. I like the fact that this song sort of sounds like a carousel ride and those high harmonies are sweeeet.

Coincidence? I think not.

2007-03-08T07:23:00.000-05:00

Is Wikipedia not the coolest thing ever? It must be. Anyway, a nod to Hey Pretty on this one as I Wikipedia'd my impending birthday to see what people and events share the anniversary of my living greatness. Here are some that I find to be particularly poignant:

1279 - A Mongolian victory in the Battle of Yamen ends the Song Dynasty in China

Sweet, the Mongol hordes. I like the idea of a somewhat id-driven martial culture toppling it's more high-falootin' neighbor to the east. It gibes with my self-notion of being an iconoclast.

1687 - Explorer Robert Cavelier de La Salle, searching for the mouth of the Mississippi River, is murdered by his own men

This one made the list only because it immediately made me think of Greg Neidermeyer.

1915 - Pluto is photographed for the first time but not recognized as a planet

How little things have changed...

1962 - Bob Dylan releases his first, self-titled album

Why couldn't it have been Blonde on Blonde?

1848 - Wyatt Earp (b.)

Oh hell yeah. Tombstone is one of the greatest movies. Ever. "You called down the thunder, well you got it."

1906 - Adolf Eichman (b.)

It's good to have a little bit of shame tied to your birth date. It keeps a man humble.

1928 - Patrick McGoohan (b.)

This absolutely explains those white balloons that have been chasing me around. Just call me Number 6. "Be seeing you."

1955 - Bruce Willis (b.)

I was watching Die Hard and the brilliance that is Alan Rickman the other day, and I shed a little tear when I hit the "info" button to see what year it was in which the film was released. I cannot believe that movie is almost 20 years old. "Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker."

1943 - Fran Nitti (d.)

...because I'm a badass.

1982 - Randy Rhoads (d.)

...because I'm a badass.

2005 - John De Lorean (d.)

...because I gotta get back in time.

I will drink a draught for each of you on our special day.

Point of Parlimentary Procedure

2007-03-05T07:32:00.000-05:00

Is it tacky to bitch and moan about not being able to score tickets to a benefit concert that sold out in a split-second? Most likely, yes.

So I won't go on and on about how irked I am that tickets went on sale at 5pm on the nicest Friday evening in a month and I decided to go out for happy hour and get tickets later that night. D'oh!!

Anyway, it's for a noble cause and I hope a lot of money is raised. And who knows, maybe they will realize that there is still a creative spark and do some more shows. Yes, that is my positive spin on things (however if they were also playing this gig then I would be pulling my own hair out).

Best wishes to J. Robbins and his family.

Friday 8-Track

2007-03-02T09:39:00.000-05:00

Today's list is all about my awkward and formative years, the 90's. It's like high school all over again.

Soul Asylum - "Somebody to Shove" - Grave Dancers Union

After toiling in near-anonymity for several albums, I would say that this was a deserved hit for Soul Asylum. With Husker Du, Soul Asylum, The Replacements, The Jayhawks, and Prince I would say that Minneapolis has had a pretty cool and varied scene over the years. I think "Black Gold" is the better track off of this album but since I dropped the tune yesterday...

Presidents of the United States of America - "Peaches" - Presidents of the United States of America

Is there a better song about cunnilingus (other than the second half of "Put It In Your Mouth)? Very doubtful. I think these guys are unfairly overlooked as just a "gimmick" band because they wrote good pop music. And this filthy little ditty..."I poked my finger down inside, make a little room for it to hide, nature's candy in my hand or can or a pie."

Belly - "Feed the Tree" - Star

This one just screams 120 Minutes. Could Kristin Hersh and Tanya Donelly have gone in more different directions after Throwing Muses? This one is for my boy Jay who always has this disc lying around somewhere.

Pearl Jam - "Animal" - Vs.

A buddy of mine laughs at me because have a habit of abandoning artists, definitively, after their first couple of albums and Pearl Jam is one of those band. Call me crazy but I think they picked with their second album and this is one of the best tracks. I was just blasting this (loudly) in my car the other day and from the intro that drops in as soon as "Go" ends to the screams that Mike McCready digs out of his axe during the outro, "Animal" is a fantastic rocker. Dig it.

Ned's Atomic Dustbin - "Grey Cell Green" - God Fodder

Mix together nonsensical lyrics, Madchester beats, two (!) bass guitars, and a lot of dreadlocks and you get one of the more interesting blips on the 90's radar. I pulled this album out as an experiment yesterday and I have to admit that it hasn't aged too badly. I'm pretty sure that this and "Kill Your Television" will make their way into my next playlist for the gym.

Paul Westerberg - "Waiting For Somebody" - Singles: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack

I could not put this list together without something from the Singles soundtrack. I remember dubbing a friend's CD of this, freshman year of high school, onto a TDK-90 that I could rock on my Sony Sports Walkman (I still have the Walkman and the Panasonic CD Player Boombox that I used to make the dub). This was long before I knew anything about Westerberg or the Replacements.

Seal - "Crazy" - Seal

If I could only ever hear the first 30 seconds of this song that would be enough. That oscillating synth part in the outro that introduces the first verse is sooooo sweet. Remember when everyone had some theory about what was going on with Seal's face? Was it a tattoo or some ritual scarring? I was so gullible.

Big Audio Dynamite II - "The Globe" - The Globe
Soup Dragons - "Divine Thing" - Hotwired

For whatever reason these two songs are inextricably linked in my mind. Similar beats, similar tempo, and from that same mixed-up "alternative" era. I am always surprised that Mick Jones went on to this kind of thing but after you are one of the biggest icons in punk, I can see how one might be in search of a change of pace.

A bit of timeliness from Lake Wobegon

2007-03-01T07:18:00.000-05:00

As I pulled into my local beanery this morning, Garrison Keillor happened to be reading the following poem to me:

A New Lifestyle
by James Tate

People in this town drink too much
coffee. They're jumpy all the time. You
see them drinking out of their big plastic
mugs while they're driving. They cut in
front of you, they steal your parking places.
Teenagers in the cemeteries knocking over
tombstones are slurping café au lait.
Recycling men hanging onto their trucks are
sipping espresso. Dog catchers running down
the street with their nets are savoring
their cups of mocha java. The holdup man
entering a convenience store first pours
himself a nice warm cup of coffee. Down
the funeral parlor driveway a boy on a
skateboard is spilling his. They're so
serious about their coffee, it's all they
can think about, nothing else matters.
Everyone's wide awake but looks incredibly
tired.

I laughed and smirked and then paid $1.76 to have my fancy travel mug filled to the top with the daily, potent brew. This is why I am a "member" of my local NPR affiliate.

The Aftermath

2007-02-27T07:35:00.000-05:00

Having almost finished my move (there are still a few lingering items at the old residence), I have been engaged in some disturbing introspection while attempting to unpack and generally bring the new place together. Two events have caused me to wonder if I need to maybe get into a fight or engage in some salacious drunken encounter this weekend in order to validate my Man Card:

1) I have a lot of shoes. Not Imelda Marcos-levels of indulgence but probably more than a single guy should own. They're all justified and necessary in my mind (running, hoops/v-ball, various states of casual and formal dress, general labor, steel-toed labor, hiking, all-weather, etc.) but when you gather them together and it require two oversize tote bins to transport them all, perhaps it is time to take a step back and reevaluate. I mean, that's a lot of fucking shoes.

2) I may have been heard to refer to my new shower curtain as "fabulous."

Hmm...I need somebody to shove.

Friday 1-Track

2007-02-23T08:30:00.000-05:00

Moving is a bitch. Both my mother and my sister take sadistic pleasure in my everyday procrastination -- knowing that the movers show up tomorrow morning they keep calling me every night to ask how many boxes I've packed. My usual response is, "I've packed enough. Don't worry about it." Then I look around at my remaining possessions scattered everywhere and realize how close to fucked I am. I am standing tits-deep in boxes but I still haven't even considered how I am going to pack my clothes, linens, cooking accessories, dried goods, and cleaning supplies. It's going to be a long night.

So why am I rambling on about this? As an excuse for not having even thought about putting together a playlist for this week. This is the best I could do on limited time and brain power.

Bob Mould - "Moving Trucks" - The Last Dog and Pony Show

This was supposed to be the last album of its kind and the last big electric tour. Included with the album is a 30-minute interview with Bob in which he explains how it has been a long journey and he feels a little too old and ridiculous to keep putting on monstrously loud rock shows. With that in mind he was going to do one last tour with the big rig and then focus on songwriting and performances that were a little less bombastic (hence the album title). Fortunately the notion didn't stick for too long and he showed up to the 9:30 Club almost 18 months ago to put on one of the more exhilarating rock shows I had seen in a while. But back to this album. It almost feels like he was pouring every last bit of his "old style" into these songs to put a close to that period of his career. This track is one of the best on the album with its driving pace, droning open chords (thanks for showing me the chord changes Jawny!), big hooks, and anthemic coda:

Today is the day I forget about it / It's over, don't worry about it
Today I can open the window / Today is the day I can fly
Today I am starting the rest of my life / Today, I can touch the sky
And I can leave that beeping sound of that truck behind

Damn this song rocks! Now I wish I hadn't packed up all of my CD's. I need to download that shit...

Ashes to ashes...

2007-02-21T07:34:00.000-05:00

...dust to dust.

And so begins the most important time of year on the Catholic calendar, Lent. When I was subjugated by the faith during my early years I recall spending a lot of time considering what it was I was going to "give up" for Lent. In honor of J.C., sacrifices were to be made so that His disciples could empathize with all of the suffering endured for our Salvation. Given my young age during my personal bout with the parochial education system I usually came up with the same list each year; soda, 2 hours of cartoons per day (vice my usual 3), and then some form of candy that I didn't really indulge in anyway -- even at a young age I was a master of loopholes. Ahh, youth. Of course I still find my old joke of now giving up Catholicism for Lent to be endlessly amusing. My defense being that while most Catholics only observe Lent for 6 weeks, I on the other hand sacrifice year-round. Again, I am the only one in my family who finds this funny.

So like any good lapsed Catholic I went out and acknowledged the beginning of this period of piety by celebrating Mardis Gras. What a concept. Only the church could have driven its people to prepare for the faith's most important Feast by cramming as much mindless debauchery as humanly possible into a 24-hour period. Then again, in North Arlington the concept of Fat Tuesday is pretty tame.

For the second year I attended the Clarendon-Courthouse Mardis Gras Parade which is as quaint and family-friendly as it gets. Oh there were beads and drag queens and colourful costumes but there was also an absolute dearth of open containers and bare breasts. Really it was just a few hundred people happily lining Wilson Boulevard while kids ran around berserk trying to collect as many beads as possible. After watching the Ballou High School Marching Band process by (the irony not being lost on me that the band from the most underfunded and dilapidated school in Southeast was out entertaining one of the wealthiest school districts in the nation) I experienced the surreal epiphany that I may have at that moment been standing on Main Street, USA. Welcome to Magic Kingdom.

like so much chattel...

2007-02-17T15:51:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I think I have Adult ADD as I cannot consistently do any one task for an extended period of time. I constantly have stop, distract myself with some completely irrelevant tangent, and then eventually psych myself up to return to the task at hand. Hence I am banging out a pointless blog post rather than continuing about the chore of packing up my home, an activity which I have half-heartedly focused on for the last four hours. Progress has been made though I am a long way from being finished. But it is hard to focus right now as all of my worldly possessions are geometrically piling up about my apartment in various, temporary little cardboard homes.

Seeing the tangible product of one's own lifetime of consumerism is mildly unsettling. I have pissed away a lot of lucre over the years with little to show other than an ever-diminishing living space that has been blitzkrieg'd by an unconscious adherence to a life-philosophy of Completism. For the uninitiated, Completism is ultimately the lifestyle that is most antithetical to Utilitarianism. Utilitarian is how most historians describe the life and times of the Spartans, a mere 300 of whom managed to stand down Xerxes's army of 10,000 Persians during the Battle of Thermopylae -- that's a pretty strong endorsement. My lifestyle however, is pretty much the opposite of that. Odds are that 300 minimalist Spartans could never amass the amount of crap presently being packaged by one lone Arlingtonian.

Friends and family have wondered why, during my search for new housing, I have been quibbling over the difference of tens of square feet. As I bundle together my Life's Work, the rationale for my selectivity has evidenced itself. So far I have only packed up the "non-essentials," those items that are not necessary for me to clothe, bathe, feed, groom, or generally take care of myself; nor anything work-related as well. At this point, the ship's manifest reads as follows:

(6) guitars
(2) amplifiers
(2) boxes of guitar effects and music-related incidentals
(5) boxes of books
(6) milk crates of CD's
(1) box of DVD's (and more arcane media formats)
(1) sadly large box of Star Wars shit
(1) oversized Rubbermaid tub of home entertainment equipment

Even during my last move those long nine months ago, I did not stand back and take stock of my possessions. I was so interested in getting out of my little shoebox of a house before the roof caved in, that indexing all of my crap did not occur to me. But this pending move has elucidated much about my state-of-being and I am finally starting to Get It. These things, this chattel, these avatars of my culture-saturated existence, these possessions that possess me...they give me comfort.

They give me love. And I love them.

Friday 8-Track

2007-02-16T11:10:00.000-05:00

Pitchers and catchers have reported to camp and Spring Training is officially underway. In honor of the birth of Spring, the Boys of Summer, and the impending Fall Classic, it's baseball week on the Friday 8-Track. The Nats are already looking to resemble the Indians of Major League so all we can do is hope for the best. "This guy's dead! So cross him off the list."

Randy Newman - "Burn On" - Sail Away

The lilting, sardonic gait of this song (both lyrically and musically) was the perfect theme for the opening sequence of "Major League." This dry recounting of the night the Cuyahoga caught on fire was an apt metaphor for the hopelessness of the Indians team portrayed in the film. And unfortunately will, in all likelihood, be equally appropriate for what looks to be the longest season in the history of Washington baseball. "Burn on, big river, burn on."

John Fogerty - "Centerfield" - Centerfield

I bet nobody saw this one coming. (Yeah, right.) Yes indeed it is a song about baseball, a great song about baseball, and it even references The Mudville 9. But the real charm of this tune, and why I always hum it at the ballpark, is its use for the montage in Bull Durham when the Bulls and Ebby Calvin "Nuke" LaLoosh go on their big win streak. In my humble estimation, this is the definitive movie about America's Pastime capturing all of the overly-romanticized metaphors of the game and its simple joy. "I believe there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing Astroturf and the designated hitter."

Dropkick Murphys - "Tessie" - Tessie [EP]

I wish my team had a rally song this awesome. It's got some great history behind it and the Murphys' revved up punk version definitely captures that Boston Southie spirit. Maybe Bad Brains can write something for the Nats.

Dire Straits - "Walk of Life" - Brothers in Arms

I always associate this song with ball because of the outfield bloopers that were used for the video. Plus its got a boogie beat similar to "Centerfield" so I guess I often recall the songs in tandem. What this song has over "Centerfield" is that Mark Knopfler can play rings around Fogerty. The guy has got technique out the wazoo and the tone coming off his Strat on this track is sweeeeet.

Alabama - "Cheap Seats" - Cheap Seats

This has got to be one of the cheesiest bands ever but they nicely summed up the minor league experience in this tune. Although nowadays I have been to minor league parks that put RFK (and others) to shame, there is a romance that comes with shitty beer, a shitty park, a shitty team, and shitty seats that roller coasters and between-inning gimmicks can never top.

The Allman Brothers Band - "Jessica" - Brothers and Sisters

Remember that scene in Field of Dreams when Costner is cruising down the highway in that VW bus (I think it was a VW)? "Jessica" was playing during that scene and it was then that it became one of my cruising tunes in the ol' Millennium Falcon (that would be my black '87 Chevy Celebrity) -- Sony Discman with the tape cassette adapter flopping around on the 2/3 split bench, windows down, Allmans cranking, and me thinking I was born about 20 years too late. And oh yeah, I think that movie was about baseball.

The Outfield - "Your Love" - Play Deep

I'm really reaching here; it was tough coming up with eight songs today. Anyway, it is a little interesting that this British band used baseball terms/metaphors for the names of their band and their first album. (Although they could also be cricket references.) Here's a random aside, did you know that the bridge to this this song and the bridge in "Jessie's Girl" are almost identical? So similar are they that when we rehearse the medley we do of these songs, that I constantly get dirty looks from my band mates for singing the wrong middle 8. Of course the parts are interchangeable so you would not notice unless you were really listening for it. Fun facts from the 80's!

Bruce Springsteen - "Glory Days" - Born in the USA

I think that this was the first album where The Boss dropped the and The E Street Band moniker. The ultimate song about your best days as a stud on the diamond having long passed since passed. My buddy and I joke about this song when we work out because he was a really good pitcher in high school but admittedly couldn't really "throw that speedball by you." I guess he was more of a finesse pitcher. In a few years, I wonder what my tales of Glory Days will be about. Hopefully something cool...

A reunion even bigger than The Police?

2007-02-14T15:49:00.000-05:00

Probably not, from a commerical standpoint, but I have a feeling it might be a little more satisfying. A little more organic. G-d I hope they come to DC.

V-Day

2007-02-14T07:38:00.000-05:00

Best Valentine's Day ever. Why? Snow day.

I should probably use the time to start packing but I haven't picked up any boxes yet, so I imagine there will be a lot of goofing off instead. However I'll need to watch at least an hour of Saved By The Bell this morning before I can begin making any decisions about the rest of the day. Maybe I'll go hunting through the icy streets of Courthouse for a Valentine. I can't be the only slacker dodging work this morning. Who knows, it could be a wintry wonderland in Arlington today.

Question: Which one is better, Valentine's Day or Sweetest Day?

Oh the weather outside is frightful...

2007-02-13T13:21:00.000-05:00

...but in Viera, Florida pitchers and catchers report to camp. All 37 of our invited pitchers. It's gonna be a looooong season.

An Open Letter to Chicken Little

2007-02-13T07:32:00.000-05:00

Mssr. Little,

It appears as if the sky is not yet falling. My morning commute was the same as it ever was ("same as it ever was, same as it ever was...") save for a few snow flakes here and there. Imagine my surprise when I woke up this morning to find the world having not ended, the heavens still intact, and the ground not covered in a hazardous brew of ice, snow, and frogs. And I cannot help but feel a little duped.

What a fool I was to actually stop at the Teeter yesterday and purchase items such as milk, eggs, and bratwurst (for what is a snow day without beer and brats) alongside the thousands of cautiously optimistic Arlingtonians all quietly hoping for a legitimate Sick Day. But alas, you were wrong and I am right -- right here at work, that is. So I ask you Chicken, why do you lie? Why do you taunt? Why do you so consistently fail in your prognostications? And why did I believe you this time?

Now I am aware of the dangers of tempting Fate, and calling you out like this may in fact curse we with a wretched eastward commute home. There is still plenty of low pressure left for something nasty to yet to occur and the day is young. But until that happens, I call you a punk and a liar and I shall no longer be subscribing to your newsletter.

Sincerely,

HD

Fun Facts

2007-02-12T07:29:00.000-05:00

Thanks to Garrison Keillor and The Writer's Almanac, this morning I learned that Abraham Lincoln and Charles Darwin share a birthday -- the same day and year. Two men with lasting and controversial legacies, I think this makes for an interesting little coincidence for a Monday morning.

There is grandeur in this view of life, with its several powers, having
been originally breathed by the Creator into a few forms or into one; and that, whilst this planet has gone cycling on according to the fixed law of gravity, from so simple a beginning endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful have been, and are being, evolved. -- Charles Darwin, Origin of Species

Fondly do we hope, fervently do we pray, that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, if God wills that it continue, until all the wealth piled by the bondman's two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said "the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether." -- Abraham Lincoln, Second Inaugural Address

Friday 8-Track

2007-02-09T07:37:00.000-05:00

My buddy has a coworker who each year around this time puts together a mix CD entitled Valentine Schmalentine. In honor of that and the most complicated of Hallmark holidays, is this week's installment of the Friday 8-Track.

Gus Black - "Don't Fear The Reaper" - Scream: Music From The Dimension Motion Picture

Yeah, yeah "more cowbell." Go ahead and get it out of your system. Cool? OK. Given a lot of B.O.C.'s other material, I doubt that the lyrical intent of this song was to be a creepy ode to love and a suicide pact, but that sure as hell is what it sounds like. Now take Gus Black's slow, brooding cover from the Scream soundtrack and the cringe factor is almost unbearable. "Came the last night of sadness and it was clear we couldn't go on..." Yikes.

The Smiths - "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out" - The Queen Is Dead

Desperation confused for love. A character so desperate for escape from his home that he falls in love with his savior and opines that "To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die." Could such a sentiment come form anyone other than Morrissey?

The Replacements - "Valentine" - Pleased To Meet Me

Yesterday I sent an email to a friend proclaiming "Johnny Reznick wishes he was Paul Westerberg." She had posted her thoughts on the Goo Goo Dolls concert at the 9:30 Club and how it transported her back to her college days. Like a prick I had to make a little dig about how the Goo Goo Dolls are nothing more than an ersatz version of The Replacements -- that's how I roll. Anyway, this is how you write a pop song and the best part is, I have no idea whether this is pro- or anti-Valentine. Either way it's great. "If you were a pill, I'd take a handful at my will. And I'd knock you back with something sweet and strong."

Gram Parsons (w/ Emmylou Harris) - "Love Hurts" - Grievous Angel

I don't know why it is that the cheesiest version of this song, ever, became its most recognizable. Nazareth? Come on. But for the definitive version, a real painful torch song, Gram Parsons hit this one square on the head. Talk about suffering, this one really burns.

Squeeze - "Another Nail For My Heart" - Argybargy

I feel like I'm still discovering this band after all these years. Probably too eclectic for their own good, from a commercial standpoint, the irony is that a song like this will probably end up covered by some whitebread female act on the soundtrack to a Renee Zelwegger movie and it will have none of its teeth. One of those classic upbeat pop songs that's all about a love gone away, Glenn Tilbrook has the enviable talent of being able to put a really good hook to a story.

Liz Phair - "Fuck and Run" - Exile In Guyville

This song depresses the shit out of me. That stupid "White Hot Cum" song was titillating just for the sake of being shocking and had no real substance. This tune from her first album however, is the real thing. Talk about an unhealthy pattern.

Bob Mould - "Black Sheets Of Rain" - Black Sheets Of Rain

Angry songs don't get much angrier than this one. Never one to spend much time looking on the bright side of life, Bob opens his second solo album with a scorcher. It has got his trademark huge, droning guitar and some of his most miserable lyrics ever. "Slag heap keep growing higher, every morning the sky it's on fire. And it's only 9 AM again."

Josh Rouse - "Ugly Stories" - Under Cold Blue Stars

This album, my favorite of his, is supposed to be a pseudo-concept album. The lyrics (and track sequence) following the story arc of a young couple in love up through marriage, infidelity, and reconciliation -- guess which theme this song addresses. I'm always amazed how pretty sad songs can be. To incorrectly paraphrase Nick Hornby, "Did I listen pop music because I was miserable, or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?"

-- Bonus Track --

So I thought I should add one, un-ironic, non-bitter track selection for this week's theme.

Wilco - "California Stars" - Mermaid Avenue Vol. I

When it comes to pop music, sometimes the simplest songs are the most resonant. I've never been in love with a woman (real love, not infatuation) but I have fallen in love with a song. Woody Guthrie wrote the words over 40 years ago but Jeff Tweedy brought them to life with a simple melody, three chords, and a sparse arrangement. This song never gets old and it is one of the prettiest ways I could imagine saying, "I love you."

Best Halftime Show Ever

2007-02-06T07:26:00.000-05:00

Is there any doubt that Mr. Prince Rogers Nelson is one of the greatest performers alive? In the rain, in high-heeled boots, with the Florida A&M marching band and the man didn't miss a beat. I was a little suspicious when I heard he would be doing the show and half-expected to hear some awful new material or maybe witness a stunt to one-up Janet, Ms. Jackson If You're Nasty's nip slip. But instead he followed the old adage and gave the people what they wanted. Here are my notes as I recall the performance:

"Let's Go Crazy" was an obvious but still excellent opener. It was a bit sloppy and rushed but given the environmental elements at play, I thought it was as good as it could be. Nice to see the Hohner model "Telecaster" with the leopard-print pick guard. I doubt that was the original from the Purple Rain era but visually, it took me back.

Three covers, "Proud Mary" -- which worked great with the FAMU band and who better than Prince to rival Tina Turner, "All Along the Watchtower" -- sort of by-the-numbers but I thought a fitting homage to half of his stylistic legacy, and the completely out of leftfield cover of the Foo Fighters' "Best of You" which was AWESOME. It sounded fantastic and I was digging the teal American Strat (unless it was a copycat model) with the floating tremolo bridge and the two-pickup scheme (Lace sensor single coil and humbucker). I would have to think Dave Grohl was feeling pretty excellent when he saw that.

And of course the majesty that is "Purple Rain" with that "symbol" guitar of his and the suggestive shadow puppet show. That song still holds up after over 20 (!) years with the big outro and falsetto wail. All in all I thought it was one of the best halftime shows ever (no doubt) and it was great to see Prince shred a little on his axe. Sometimes I wonder if most people know what an incredible guitar player the man is so it is always cool to see him showing off his chops. Well done.

So you wanna be a rock 'n roll star?

2007-02-05T07:41:00.000-05:00

As unpredictable as the weather is Arlington nightlife in the winter. One of the coldest nights of the season on Staurday and yet everyone in the municipality seemed to be out at one of three or four bars. My band played The Clarendon Grill that night and I haven't seen the place turn into a zoo like that since our Cinco de Mayo show there last year. It is amazing what plenty of alcohol, close quarters, loud music, and an excuse to rub up against one another will do to people. Anyway, it was a great time but I do have some points of etiquette that I would like to share from the band's perspective. So here are a few tips from Stage Left:

1) Stay off the fucking stage. I know it's hot and crowded and everyone is having a good time, but stay off the fucking stage. I know how awesome it would be for your friends to see you and take some pictures of you wiggling up here, but stay off the fucking stage. I know everyone tells you what a lovely voice you have and that you should be in a band, but stay off the fucking stage. You see your drunk, wobbly, high-heel'd ass climbing onto the stage with a drink in your hand makes us very nervous as there is a lot of expensive, hard-to-get, boutique equipment up here so pretty please, with sugar on top, stay off the fucking stage.

2) We don't want your money. The club pays us and you pay the club. So when you throw cash at us on stage, that makes us feel dirty. Besides which you should probably hold onto that money as a) your Members Only jacket was looking a bit worn and b) I am pretty sure those bills were in some stripper's crotch at one point or another -- no thank you.

3) I am sorry, but that is the only Journey song that we play. Why are you taking this personally? It's not that we know any others and are choosing not to play them just to piss you off. What I mean is, we only know one Journey song. Why are you yelling at me?

4) Yes, I will gladly wish your friend a Happy Birthday and no, you do not have to buy us a round of shots for a simple shout-out.

5) I swear to g-d, that is the only song by Journey that we know.

6) OK, OK we will "play some fucking Skynrd" if you just please stop yelling that at us between songs. We've got a lot of material we want to perform for you but if you really want to hear "Sweet Home Alabama" then we will capitulate if only to keep the dance floor grooving. But you have to promise that you won't ask for any more Southern Rock. Please.

7) He's not that into you. From my perch four feet above the crowd I have had a good view of the entire room all night. Earlier I saw him grinding up against that girl, and that girl, and that girl, and that girl. Your (sober) friend is not being a bitch/prude, that dude is in fact a scumbag. Listen to the person who actually cares about you and do not have another shot.

8) First of all, thank you for waiting until between sets to request a song. And thank you for being polite rather than drunkenly screaming out your request in my face -- I know that we are the hired help but it is still nice to get a bit of courtesy. I am sorry that we don't know that particular song but perhaps there is something else you would like to hear that we do know.

9) Yes, I love talking about gear. Ask away.

10) I am very flattered and would like to meet your friend but I only have 15 minutes until my next set starts and many, many, many of our friends and family made a special point to come out and see us tonight and I have barely said five words to them. Maybe next time.

Friday 8-Track

2007-02-02T10:15:00.000-05:00

Well it looks like it is almost a lock that The Police will be embarking on a huge reunion tour. When I was in high school and going through my Classic Rock Phase, I though that these were the coolest things in the world because I could see the bands that I had missed by a generation. As a I got older and my tastes refined, I began realizing how expensive, contrived, and cheesy these shows really were. However The Police have remained at the top of my list of bands I always wished I could see -- along with The Pixies who I finally saw and they absolutely blew me away, and Uncle Tupelo which will probably never happen. This Police tour has the potential to be great (if they decide to really rip into it and get interesting with their set lists) or a positively boring run-through-the-numbers. Either way I will plunk down my $100 to see it just in case I get the former, all the while expecting the latter. So this week's installment is in their honor. Here's hoping for a great show.

"Truth Hits Everybody" - Outlandos d'Amour

So, whenever you hear The Police on the radio it's always the same old thing and you never get a feel for how hard they could hit it (no pun intended). Well here's a good example. I hope they can bring this kind of energy to the tour and not just sit on their vanilla laurels a la the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame performance.

"Message in a Bottle" - Regatta de Blanc

OK, obvious choice but it has got one of my favorite Stewart Copeland moments. In high school my friends and I spent an inordinate amount of time talking about -- arguing about -- things like who was The Best Drummer. There were the usual suspects like Moon, Bonzo, Ginger Baker, Mitch Mitchell (Steve Gadd and Jeff Porcero if you wanted to be a real obscurantist), and of course Copeland. My buddy and I still joke about a this guy in our school who loudly declared during one of these bull sessions that "You can't even begin to talk about drummers without mentioning Stewart Copeland in the first fucking paragraph!" Indeed. Anyway, I love that shuffling snare and hi-hat fill right before the outro vamp.

"Synchronicity I" and "Synchronicity II" - Live!

These two tracks make a great opening pair for the second disc of this album which is from a 1983 show in Boston. It's not as raw as the '79 show on the first disc and the band is at the top of its game live. In a way it sounds like over time they traded some of that wild energy for an increased level of musicianship but they certainly found a nice balance. I like the way that the frenetic and slightly scattered rhythms of "I" give way to the straight-ahead driving pulse of "II."

"King of Pain" - Synchronicity

This is perhaps my favorite Police tune as I think it is so very well written. There are two major character traits which I associate with Sting; 1) he is a megalomaniacal prick and 2) he is one of the finest songwriters of the last 30 years. Some people just have a gift for melody and lyric and although there is a lot of throwaway shit that he has written over the years, even after that the resume stands strong. The great thing about this song is the way the tension builds from the sparse intro up to the big hit of the first hook -- it just opens up into that beuatiful circular chorus. Another nice aspect is that arrangement-wise, this could have ended up as a pretty and lilting mid-tempo song wihtout any real teeth. But the drive is also there with the thumping 8th-notes on the bass and those tight snare snaps. All-in-all it makes for a great song that I have heard thousands of times and never grow tired of.

"Walking on the Moon" - Regatta de Blanc

Personalities may clash but there are some musicians that are just meant to play together. "Walking on the Moon" is one of the best examples of how well the individula members' talents melded together; Sting's voice and songcraft, Stewart Copeland's tight syncopated grooves, and Andy Summers. Summers probably gets the least amount of credit for his contributions but this guy could play, and so tastefully. On the live disc, you can hear how flexible he is on a track like "Can't Stand Losing You" but here it's very laid back and just right. I always liked Andy because he was a Telecaster man and his signature delayed, chorus-drenched tone still does not sound dated like so many other players from that era.

"Spirits in the Material World" - Ghost in the Machine

This track has dark vibe to it with a looping sort of "up-down" beat. It's got those syncopated reggae rhythms that really influenced the band but with their own pop spin to it. Definitely one of those songs to put on at the end of the night as you sink into your intoxicated haze before punching out.

"So Lonely" - Live!

This appears on both the '79 (disc 1) and '83 (disc 2) shows and is another good example of the contrasts from when they were starting out and when the band was the biggest thing in the world (and in only 4 short years). I love this song and have always wanted to play it live, especially at the raucous tempo from the '79 show. Dynamic contrast is so important in a good song and this one's got it in spades. The verses are mid-tempo and again have that syncopated reggae beat, but in the chorus the tempo feels like it doubles (not quite) and rips into a driving 4/4. The fact that the song does this again and again until it just explodes on the outro (for the live version at least) makes for perfect live fodder. Plus, if you're going to sing about having nobodt you might as well rock while you're doing it. "In this theatre that I call my soul. I always play the starring role, so lonely!"

A Pin Drop's Echo

2007-01-30T07:55:00.000-05:00

No matter how many times I go to the Birchmere, at every visit I am amazed by the quality of sound in that room. The venue mainly treads in singer-songwriter acoustic-types and the room is perfectly suited for it. When plugged in, the vocals are clear and true and sound as if someone is singing in your ear. And the acoustic guitars are warm and bright yet don't have those tinny, abrasive high-ends that are the hallmark of every MTV Unplugged episode. But here's what's really special. When a performer is truly "unplugged" (unamplified) and sitting on the front of the stage strumming and singing into the air, as Josh Ritter did last night peforming the Everly Brothers' "I've Been Cheated" with an acoustic guitar and his opening act singing harmony, you can still hear every tone, every warble, and every word. That room got deathly silent and as they repeated the closing lyric, ever softer each time, it was still clear as crystal. Amazing.

To say that I simply enjoyed the show last night would be an understatement; there's something about the lone singer-songwriter. I've gone back-and-forth on my apprectiation of the One Man Act over time. On the one hand, I love the sound and the fury of a rock 'n roll show. I play the electric guitar and adore it for its flexibility and variability; the way its tones can be variegated by complex electronics or simple touch. The creamy sound of an overdriven vacuum tube or the howling whine of the Larsen effect that can actually be "pushed" to resolve into a scale tone, these are some of the most exciting things about music for me. Yes it is Freudian, yes it is phallic, and yes (at times) it is all about the size of my soundwave. But isn't that what rock 'n roll is about: the id unleashed.

However there is something to be said for stripping the entire facade away until it is just wood, steel, and the human voice -- and of course the song has to be there as well. So when it is, it gives me pause to think that maybe there is something to be said for the notion of one man, one guitar, one song. That is probably why generations less cynical than ours believed that Springsteen could change their lives or Dylan could change the world. It's silly and naive, but I can empathize. Good show last night.

Friday 8-Track

2007-01-25T20:34:00.001-05:00

I'm running short on themes of late so this week is yet another random mix. I'm open to thematic suggestions for next week.

Camper Van Beethoven - "Sut Us Down" - Camper Van Beethoven

A truly weird band that is all over the map, stylistically, but had some really cool moments. I caught one of their reunion shows shortly after Joe Strummer died where they did a bitchin' countrified version of "White Riot." Excellent. But this tune is one of my favorite songs of theirs that is their own punk~ish anthem. "You better shut us down."

Radiohead - "Bones" - The Bends

I'm gonna save a little energy here by not repeating my Radiohead screed for the umpteenth time -- but here's the Reader's Digest version. Is this their best album? Yes. Is it a crowning achievement in loud shoegazer rock? Absolutlely. Is it...you get the point. As for "Bones," it's got the chimey guitars and huge hits that put this album in my all-time Top 5. "I used to fly like Peter Pan!!"

The Pretenders - "Talk of the Town" - Pretenders II

Oh Chrissie Hynde. You wreck me baby, yeah, you break me in two. Before I wander off to take a cold shower I will say that this is my second-favorite Pretenders tune. Hynde is a really great songwriter who came up with some great hooks coupled with strong lyrics. I remember a Pernice Brothers show at IOTA where they had just finished a tour in support of The Pretenders. In honor of that they played a great cover of this song that capped off a really intimate show. Good stuff.

Doves - "Pounding" - The Last Broadcast

A song that starts in your gut, moves up your body, and ends in an absolute head rush. After you hear it, you become addicted and like Pavlov's dogs will immediately respond to the crashes in the intro. I love the fact that the song is called "Pounding" and its drum part is a straight pounding downstroke on every beat. Ahh, simplicity.

Ted Leo & The Pharmacists - "Walking to Do" - Shake the Sheets

I cannot wait for this show in March. Talk about a release. This album took a few listens to grow on me and now I am convinced that it is his best to date. Yes, even better than Hearts of Oak. This particular tune is a nice closer to the album and has some great sing-along moments live. "Rock Creek Park, to The Ave. and on past the zoo..."

Guided By Voices - "I Am A Tree" - Mag Earwhig

Doug Gillard, you are the man and I bow to your wailing Les Paul. The one song that you wrote that actually made it onto a GBV album and the song (well, second song) that hooked me on the band. Thank you for being one of the coolest musicians I have ever met. And what a fucking solo!

Rolling Stones - "Tumbling Dice" - Exile On Main St.

For whatever reason, this week's list is being somewhat inspired by a number of covers I have had the pleasure and surprise of hearing done by some of my favortie bands. During the encore from the only time I saw Son Volt, they performed a rollicking version of this song along with The Continental Drifters. Just a good straight rock song with those classic open-G riffs and a deep, deep juke-joint groove. Dig that lazy backbeat.

Sloan - "Money City Maniacs" - 4 Nights at the Palais Royale

I have no idea what this song is about. "And the joke is, when he awoke his, body was covered in Coke fizz." But that don't matter because it straight rocks -- especially this live version. Who doesn't love to shout along? "Hey you!!!" Rock and roll can save your life.

--- and as promised, the make-up track from last week ---

Tower of Power - "What is Hip?" - Tower of Power

Here is a track that will definitely get your ass moving. I wonder why it is you don't here really good songs with horns anymore? Lenny Pickett of SNL fame breaks out on this album but what gets me most i sthe double-stop sixteenth notes of Rocco Prestia. I have never heard anything so tight yet with clear tone. Between the bass and the drums, the rhythm section propels this tune into some hardcore funk. (Bonus points if you know in which sitcom this song was used for a musical montage.)

The Domesday Book

2007-01-25T19:57:00.001-05:00

What the fuck?!?!

No thank you, Alex...

2007-01-23T20:14:00.000-05:00

...I didn't want to be on your show anyway.

Immediate reaction after taking the Jeopardy Online Challenge -- I think I performed as I typically do in an test/academic environment; above average, even great at times, but never among the stellar upper ranks. The site doesn't give you your score but I would guess that I was somewhere around 35 out of 50. Above average, even pretty good, but definitely not going to get me on Jeopardy.

In retrospect, this little endeavor has been a nice metaphor for the entirety of my scholastic career which was marked by three things; great potential, constant underachievement, and a strong slacker ethos; all of which were present at an early age. In first grade I moved back to the States after living overseas for three years. At my new school I had to take a reading and comprehension test to determine what level "reading group" I would be working in for that year. I had no interest in such a test. There were three groups (low, middle, and high in terms of aptitude) and I predictably scored right on top of the bell curve. My grandmother, an education professional of 40+ years, was incredulous as she believed that while precocious and obnoxious, I was also pretty advanced. As always, Grandma was right and after two weeks I got bumped up. I moved two more times during elementary school and this same situation happened twice again. I am a waste of SCANTRON.

For whatever reason, I didn't really become the slacker that I am today until around 4th grade. In Fairfax County we all had to take IQ tests back then and I scored two points under the threshold that would qualify me to go to the special smart kids school. The school asked my parents and my parents asked me if I wanted to take the test again to see if I could place into the magnet program:

"What do they do there?"
"The classes are different and the kids do a lot of special assignments."
"Sounds like more work."
"Don't look at it that way."
"No, I think I'll stay at Herndon. It's easy."

My parents were less than thrilled but to their credit, they never pushed me into anything I didn't want to do (except every fucking aspect of Catholicism). A similar scene played out again just before high school where I got guilted into taking the test to attend the county's magnet high school. Now my eye were wide fucking open this time and I knew that a) it was a looong bus ride, b) it was full of social retards and while I was not the coolest kid, I wasn't suffering any abuse at the hands of my peers, and c) the classes were way hard with all kinds of extracurricular work. So I took the test but let's just say that I did not try very hard and lo and behold, I went to my regular high school with all of my friends. To this day however my mother insists that I went in and intentionally threw the exam. Explanations to the contrary still fall on deaf ears.

Themes of this nature continued to play out throughout college and grad school where I would do fair to good but consistently fall short of some "greater potential" that my family alleged I was squandering. In my defense, I worked my ass off in some of my harder courses because I refused to be beat down by topics such as Complex Math & Vector Analysis or Solid State Physics II or Electromagnetic Field Theory. But in my parents' defense there were several others that I punted by actually calculating (seriously) the minimum amount of effort required to get a B or in some cases, simply pass. Yeah, I could have worked a little harder but I also could have had more fun too.

But here's what is different about last night. There is no ambiguity. There is no slacker indifference this time around. I really, really, really, wanted to be on Jeopardy. C'est le vie, we can't all be Ken Jennings -- otherwise we would all wear strange undergarments and not drink. No thank you, Alex...

Once more unto the breach...

2007-01-23T07:30:00.000-05:00

Tonight is the night I take the Online Jeopardy Challenge. In preparation I have been watching the show every night and eating a lot of brain food; chicken, asparagus, broccoli, et cetera. And I gotta tell you that other than my pee smelling bad (love that methyl mercaptan) and a little Seinfeld withdrawal, I don't think I have much to show for it. In fact I think I have been doing progressively worse each night. Of course it cannot be all my fault as there have been a number of distracting competitors of late. There was Creepy Ponytail Guy, Black Comic Book Guy, Wrong Answer Lady (she kept buzzing in with the wrong answers over and over again), and a few others all of whom managed to take me off my game with their idiosyncrasies.

But that's really just a rationalization and not an excuse. My confidence was shaken to the core last night after mediocre Jeopardy and Double Jeopardy rounds, I couldn't even muster a guess to the Final Jeopardy question which in retrospect was so obvious that it must have disturbed the neighbors to hear such an odd profanity screamed aloud in the building:

"Alexis de Toqueville, son of a bitch!!"

Friday 8-Track

2007-01-19T07:00:00.000-05:00

Appros pos of nothing and everything, this week we have yet another random mix tape. Phoning it in? Just a bit.

Josh Ritter - "Wolves" - Animal Years

This album has really been growing on me and I am looking forward to Ritter's solo acoustic show at the Birchmere. As for this particular tune, it's got a nice mix of simple songcraft, atmospheric production, and cool imagery. The hook has been running through my head for over two weeks.

Steely Dan - "My Old School" - Countdown To Ecstasy

Perhaps my favorite Steely Dan tune, there is just a little bit of everything in this killer song. You've got a rockin' beat, those sly jazz changes here and there, an absolutely great horn arrangement, and (what else, of course) blistering guitar work that still makes my hair stand up everytime I hear it. Jeff "Skunk" Baxter is the man, but people always laugh at me when I make wild claims that this is the best guitar solo put to wax. Whatever, if I could play like that...

Jurassic 5 - "Quality Control" - Quality Control

I own very little hip hop, mostly because much of the genre doesn't move me. However if I do happen to pick up a a hip hop album, it is because I think it is the top of its class. As was the case with Quality Control. There was something about the beats, the samples, the rhymes, and the delivery that weaves in and out like Run and D in the dayz of old. The title track is a standout.

Bob Mould - "Wishing Well" - Workbook

Bob's first album following the breakup of Husker Du, halfway through this track shows he still wanted to wail. There's a lot of anger in this song but when the acoustic verses give way to the big electric solo and the screaming bridge; HUGE. It must have been intentional the way the volume in the mix practically doubles when the solo starts. Hell yeah.

Led Zeppelin - "The Song Remains The Same" - Houses of the Holy

In November of '94 I slept on a very cold sidewalk (OK, in my car) in front of a Kemp Mill Records in order to buy tickets for the Page and Plant reunion tour which at the time I thought was the closest thing to Second Coming. Of course rhings went awry the following morning when the dipshit working the ticket computer forgot the password to log in to the system. Ten of the most excruciating minutes of my life were lost while everyone else in the metro area started snappin up tickets. We ended up in the nosebleeds at the Cap Center but all was made better when I heard this song. Dig that 12-string drone.

Ash - "Kung Fu" - 1977

Without question, the greatest pop-punk ode to Jackie Chan ever penned. Period. And I quote, "Oh Daniel san, made in Taiwan, come on Jackie Chan, uh-uh uh-uh-uh uh uh uh." Pure poetry.

Cyndi Lauper - "Time After Time" - She's So Unusual

For a time (no pun intended) I used to think of this song as firmly ensconced within the 80's as a specific piece of pop kitsch from the era. I was such a fool. A while back I heard this song on the radio and it really hit me; this is a fantastically well written pop song. Co-written by Rob Hyman of The Hooters ("And We Danced"), they hit on a great melody. I really like the synth and subtle guitar and the sparse harmonies. And that fade out at the end is sooooo sweet. I'm so glad I came around on this song.

OK...I'm sleepy and not feeling it this week. Seven it is. Nine next week.

Reflections

2007-01-15T21:28:00.000-05:00

I have begun making preliminary plans for my forthcoming 30^th birthday celebration and can’t help but reflect on where I was at the various stages of my life. Fortunately I have been blogging throughout my entire existence so I was able to go back through entry archives for the various decades of my life. Here are a few selections.

12 February 1977 (Age: -1 month)

I’ve been thinking about moving but you know, for a uterus this place isn’t half bad. Maybe I should have signed more than a 9-month lease. On the other hand, the accommodations have been a major strain on my sex life. Floating around in amniotic fluid all day has permanently raisin’d my budding digits and this fetal position has completely wrecked my posture, neither of which are gonna help me with the ladies. Plus my mom is ALWAYS around either fussing over me or complaining about what I am up to. I’m pushing on her kidneys, I give her high blood pressure, I instigate food cravings, etc. Yeah right, I don’t even like tuna salad so there’s no way that casserole was my idea.

Besides, it probably is time to move on. Geez, it seems like just yesterday that I could count on one hand how many of my cells had divided and now my head has almost completely turn toward the birth canal. But I think getting out and growing will be a good thing. This Star Wars movie that’s coming out sounds like it’s gonna kick serious ass and I can’t wait to figure out what this thing between my legs is for. (I’m definitely gonna stick it in something and see what happens.) Yeah, growing up is gonna be cool.

21 June 1987 (Age: 10)

Swim practice was crazy, it was so cold this morning that all the girls were smuggling raisins (that what James said it’s called when girls’ nipples stick out). Man, I had such a boner! I think once fifth grade starts in the fall I should probably start dating. That’s when we get to take sex ed. so then I’ll know what to do.

Dude! I was trying to fit one of my GI Joe’s (Flint) in the cockpit of an X-Wing Fighter but I snapped one of his knee joints. It sucked. Anyway, I’ve been thinking that I need to start taking control of my life and I am going to start by taking better care of my Joe’s. I’ve already lost Storm Shadow’s bow and Zartan’s facemask, and the Crimson Twins are so scuffed up that I can’t even tell which one is Tomax and which one is Xamot anymore. I need to make a change.

Oh yeah! I was talking to Eddie the other day about our ideas for a new Star Wars movie. That would be so awesome, there is no way it could suck.

14 April 1997 (Age: 20)

Fucking Christ will this semester ever end?!? I haven’t even started my goddamn final project for Electronics lab yet. I can’t believe I was stuck with this hick from Big Stone Gap as a lab partner. He barely understands something as simple as Ohm’s Law and he lost the 10x probe for the oscilloscope. What a dumbass! I was so pissed when I got out of class today that I started flaming some newbie on alt.news.music.davematthewsband.tapetraders who was trying to trade a 2^nd gen audience (!) tape from some Floodzone show for a 1^st gen soundboard tape of the ’95 Roseland show with Trey and Popper. Are you fucking kidding me? People are such losers. (This dorm dial-up is so slow! I can’t wait to move off campus and buy a 56kb modem. That thing is gonna smoke!)

Anyway, I am so stressed out that I am definitely getting fucked up tonight. I’ve got at least five Beast Ice’s in my mini-fridge and I think Scott still has half of that bottle of Goldschlagger we stole from that shitty frat party last week. There’s supposed to be a party out in Foxridge that the girls from the sixth floor are going to and I am all over that. I think that chick Julia with the huge juggs that everyone calls Top Heavy is going as well. I was behind her in the breakfast line at Dietrich yesterday, oh my God! Everyone tells me I need to be a dick if I am gonna hook up with one of these chicks, so tonight is the night. I’m gonna talk to her at the party and be a complete dick…I hope my roommate isn’t home tonight.

Oh yeah! There was an article online about the new Star Wars movie. It’s gonna be so sweet! A young Obi-Wan Kenobi, how could it not be awesome? There is no possible way this movie could suck.

Huh. It seems like very little has changed over the years -- save for the naivetee regarding the new Star Wars films. Perhaps turning 30 will bring on a bit of a maturation process.

Circle The One That Doesn't Belong

2007-01-14T15:20:00.000-05:00

A belated "Happy New Year!" from Local 16. I had intended to post some thoughts about my first year as one of the hosts of the annual New Year's party but the Johnnie Walker Black in my hand blurred many of the evening's plot lines. Suffice to say that Phil J. wins the award for Most Excellent Attire and that a good time was had by all.

Friday 8-Track

2007-01-12T07:27:00.000-05:00

Yet another one I "think" I have done before, but Blogger says otherwise so we shall proceed. This week I ran into one of my former students who is well on her way to becoming a very fine concert flautist, so I thought I might shake it up a bit this Friday and do something a little more highbrow -- orchestral/symphonic music.

Dmitri Shostakovich - Symphony No. 5 - "Allegro non troppo"

John Williams is often accused of being derivative via claims that he has taken a lot of Romantic classics and sort of mashed them up into his epic film scores (kind of like Puffy). Shostakovich is one composer where you can almost immediately hear where Williams' work came from. This fourth (and final) movement from his fifth symphony is so much fun and you would think, as you listen, that there is a film splashed on a screen somewhere in the background. It is very Russian at times (read: intense, brooding) yet the Romantic backdrop persists throughout as the main theme pops up several times including the end with a lot of tension and majesty. Good stuff.

Hector Berlioz - Symphonie fantastique - "March au supplice"

This piece is very, um, French -- you can hear where a lot of Bizet's inspiration came from, I think. The March to the Scaffold is the fourth of five movements and is about the main character's opiate-induced nightmare where he sees himself being led off for execution. When I say it is very French I mean that for such a harrowing theme, the piece is still somewhat light and fanciful. If it had been Wagner doing it, g-d only knows how terrifying it would have sounded. Anyway, I remember doing a watere-down arrangement of this in 8th grade but the full orchestral arrangement is really cool, and a classic.

George Gershwin - Rhapsody In Blue

I think that this is one of the most "American" pieces of music ever written. The collision of Western European classicism, the proto-pop of Tin Pan Alley, and jazz styles is something that could only have come form the Land of the Free. It moves all over the place, in and out of time and key, but I love that big classic ending the most -- you know it, the one from the airline commercials. I saw a saxophone quartet perform this in odd chapel in Prague once which was really cool but nothing compares to the complete orchestration.

Modest Mussorgsky - Pictures at an Exhibition - "The Great Gate of Kiev"

This is so enjoyable. Composed as a piece for solo piano, it was teh Maruice Ravel arrangement for orchestra that truly displayed the song's potential. As I have mentioned before, my high school band played this and it was one of the most exhilirating performances I have ever been a part of it. Thankfully we had an incredible trumpet section which is so necessary throughout but especially during this final movement about the Bogatyr Gates in Kiev. The movement preceding it is this odd Russina fable known as "The Hut of Baba Yaga" and the end of it crescendos into the first huge chord of "The Great Gate of Kiev." These looooong legato brass chords are so big and so regal...chills. I love it.

Giuseppe Verdi - Requiem - "Dies Irae"

Fucking awesome. Seriously. I can't think of a better way to describe this movement of Verdi's Requiem. It is so terrifying and compelling and loud that you can absolutely get drawn into it. Elements to note are the huge percussive hits that work in a call-and-response with the orchestral hits as well as the frantic high strings (similar to Wagner's darkest and angriest moments) that sound like the heavens are being burned form the sky. I don't know if even a Marshall stack turned up to 11 could compete with these 2 minutes.

Franz Liszt - Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2

OK, not an orchestral work but one helluva piano piece. Of course I like it for the same reason everyone else does, its use in both Rhapsody Rabbit and The Cat Concerto. Essentially the same movies, Bugs Bunny attempts to play the piece while chasing a mouse around inside his grand piano (and in the other film Tom chases arround Jerry). The song is perfect for an animated movie because of its lilting beginnning and subsequently furious moments throughout. Both of these movies still make me laugh.

Dmitri Shostakovich - Symphony No. 10 - "Allegro"

Darker and more sever than his fifth symphony, the tenth has a lot of cool percussive moments. In the "Allegro" the basses and cellos shine with heavy bow strokes in which you can almost visualize the right angles. Syncopated percussion hits against the low-string bow strokes, like in the Verdi Requiem, give this piece the terror of Stalin's high-stepping footsoldiers. Very cool.

Pytor Tchaikovsky - 1812 Overture

OK, waaaay obvious. But I love the fact that it was referenced in Calvin & Hobbes strip where Calvin, whose parents own only "classical" records, discovers the great Overture and surpsingly enjoys it.

Calvin: "Interesting percussion."
Hobbes: "Those are cannons."
Calvin: "And they perform this in crowded concert halls?? Gee, I thought classical music was boring!"

Oh, and the bell chimes at the ned kick ass.

Brain Drain

2007-01-09T19:38:00.000-05:00

Be it a result of ageing, watching too many VH1 clips shows, or a consistent upswing in alcohol intake over the years, I am afraid that I am getting dumber. Not that I do dumb shit, I mean I do but that has always been a character trait, but rather I think I may be losing my vast reserve of wholly useless knowledge. I don't know how you determine something like that or how practically appreciable it really is but, well, I don't think I am as good at Jeopardy as I once was.

You see, I used to watch a lot of Jeopardy. A lot. In high school I watched just about everyday, which was a bit of a problem only because I would have to flip back and forth between that and reruns of Star Trek: TNG. Obviously sex, outside of self-abuse, was pretty much a non-option for me during my pimply youth -- which is surprsing given how handsome I looked in my marching band uniform...according to my mom. Anyway, I could kick fucking ass on that show. I would sit in my room shouting out answers in the form of a question (in retrospect this explains so much) and I had a very high percentage. Especially when the high school challenge was on because let's be honest, those questions are always cake.

My senior year of high school during the beginning of my epic tenure at the local Blockbuster, I worked with a girl who actually went on the Jeopardy High School Challenge that year. She was your typical type-A overachiever; going to Penn, no personality, uppity, had never seen Star Wars, not good at common sense tasks, etc. I had watched the entire tournament that year and she made it to the final rounds. Now playing at home, I was doing phenomenally well. I even recall batting 1.000 during one of the episodes. (No revisionist history at work here.) So, Ms. Hot Shit makes it to Final Jeopardy of the final round and blows it. She could have won the whole damn thing but she couldn't recall the name of the epic poem that represents the largest example of Old English text -- which I of course knew: What is Beowulf. Damn I am awesome. Now this all went down months before she started working at the 'Buster, my 'Buster, so when she showed up for her first day I knew exactly who she was and like any New Fish in The Yard I needed to put her in her place. The withering stare I got when I greeted her with one word, Beowulf, was absolutely priceless.

But I digress, we are talking about ME here. Why is it that I believe I am dumbing down? Because I have taken to watching Jeopardy on the regular again (perhaps because my sex life of late resembles that of its secondary school self) but my skills are weak. I've gone soft. I'm hanging in there but my dominant years are gone, like an old ballplayer with bad knees. Shit, last night I only got two (!) questions right in the "Hawaii" category which is at least a little bit pathetic. This is a crisis. If I don't have my useless trivia knowledge, what do I have left? If I can't beat people at stupid fact-based board games, how will I justify my solipsisitic sense of superiority? If I can't kick ass on Jeopardy, what will I do from 7:30 until 8pm? (Another Seinfeld rerun?)

Unacceptable. I am going back into training. It is time to renew my subscription to The Economist. I will daily memorize dictionary.com's Word of the Day, randomly surf Wikipedia for at least 20 minutes, read at least 40 pages of whatever book I am in to, and do 1,000 pushups. I am taking the online Jeopardy challenge at the end of the month!

Another Roadside Attraction

2007-01-08T07:21:00.000-05:00

The side of the highway is always an interesting place for the collection of, well, things that don't belong on the side of the highway. I have seen a Don Jon, a burning mattress -- it didn't speak to me in Charlton Heston's voice, several of those stupid Calvary crucifixtion "monuments," an aquarium, and a few other odds an ends. And I once sat riveted in my car listening to a Radio Lab story about someone who found a box full of letters from hundreds of GI's all written to the same woman during WWII. They were found on Rte. 101 in Northern California after the guy pulled off to the side of the road to observe a goat standing on a cow's back. Seriously.

The reason this story comes to mind is because I saw something just a little bit odd -- although not nearly as awesome as a goat standing on the back of a cow -- on my drive in this morning. If you make the east-west commute from 66 to the inner of the outer counties (Fairfax and Loudoun), then you are familiar with the looping merge-way where 495, 66, and 123 all dump off onto the Toll Road. Tearing around that large bend this morning, in the dark, I happened to notice a Big Wheels bike/thing/whatever sort of capsized just off of the left lane. I almost rear-ended the car in front of me as I begin laughing hystericaly thinking about how this damn thing ended up there.

The likely scenario is that it flew out of the back of some pickup taking the turn a little too fast. Less likely is that some pissed off father pulled over his minivan, ripped the thing out of the back, and to make a point to his misbehaving child, hurled it off to the side of the road where it now lies. That's a little more interesting but to be honest, the first thing that came to my mind is that someone was riding the damn thing along 66, "exited" onto the Toll Road, was seriously hauling ass, and then wiped out into the ditch going around that big bend. Which is highly conceivable as those Big Wheels have a narrow wheel base and little to no traction. Plus they're probably only rated up to about 3.5 mph and this hypothetical rider must have been doing at least 20 times that speed.

Now I know that is in all likelihood not what happened, but honestly, it was the first scenario that crossed my mind. I need coffee.

Friday 8-Track

2007-01-05T08:02:00.000-05:00

In honor of the reissue of Wowee Zowee I just picked up (a.k.a. the Sordid Sentinels Edition), today's 8-Track is posted in honor of the crowned heads of college radio (no, not R.E.M.), the sovereigns of slack, the imperators of indie rock...Pavement. If any one band had to be chosen as the avatar of all musical things GenX~y and hipster chic, it would have to be Pavement. But that is all bullshit anyway because they straight up rock. Let's get to it.

"Rattled by the Rush" - Wowee Zowee

If you asked me to describe Pavement I would probably just play this song. It's got all the elements of their own style with the sideways guitar parts, lazy grooves, frenetic rock outs, and Stephen Malkmus' stoner gibberish. Fucking awesome.

"Stereo" - Brighten The Corners

Perhaps my second-favorite Pavement tune, I never ever grow tired of hearing it. It defies both description and comparison but I can say with confidence that it poses one of the greatest interrogatives in the history of rock, "What about the voice of Geddy Lee, how does it get so high? I wonder if he speaks like an ordinary guy." I know him, and he does.

"Silence Kit" - Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain

This makes my list of Top 5 Side One Song One's (album openers). The contrast on the intro is just fantastic with Malkmus "fumbling" through the opening guitar riff until the sloppiness just ends, the count off, and then...honey-smoothe overdriven guitar with a cowbell on the downbeats. Sublime.

"Speak, See, Remember" - Terror Twilight

This is a good album but it's a bit overreaching and it just felt like it would be their last. And it was. This is a album is not a definitive one for the band because it is full of a lot of good but not great songs. What I like about this tune is that it serves as the "weird groovey" tune (of which there is one on every album) but it also kicks into a straight ahead piece of rock in the last third. I believe all of that creamy breakup on the guitars is courtesy of the Hot Cake Overdrive pedal -- niiiiiice.

"Kennel District" - Wowee Zowee

Other guitarist and contributing songwriter Spiral Stairs (Scott Kannberg) was definitely caught in the glare of Malkmus' ever brightening talent and he only had one or two not-so-good songs per album (in my opinion). However this is one of my fave Pave tunes because of its drop-D simplicity and the guitar atmospherics in the background. It is pretty simple but has got a great hook.

"Father To A Sister Of Thought" - Wowee Zowee

Another cool tune with contrasting parts and good imagery. I like the country vibe with the steel guitar and then it's just obliterated by fuzz and big drums.

"Cut Your Hair" - Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain

So, this is it. Hands down my favorite Pavement tune (I think). It is noteworthy that their most commercially successful song -- it appeared in the Brady Bunch movie -- is also, lyrically, their most straightforward. It is a great rock song about "selling out" in order to be a rock star. Which is at least a little ironic seeing as the rights to the song were licensed for use in a very cheesy studio film. But nonetheless I will always have a little place in my heart for this tune which a couple of my bands have covered over the years, "Face right down to the practice room where attention and fame are a career. Career! Career! CAREER!"

I [heart] Wilco

2007-01-04T08:47:00.000-05:00

Does your favorite band always seem to sum up your mood, or are they one of your favorites because they so often express your mood? Chicken, egg.

I'm Always in Love

Why I wonder, is my heart full of holes?
And the feeling goes but my hair keeps growing
Will I set the sun
On a big-wheeled wagon?
Oh I'm bragging
I'm always in love

When I let go of your throat-sweet throttle
When I clean the lash of your black-belt model
Will I catch the moon
Like a bird in a cage?
It's for you I swoon
I'm always in love

I don't get the connection
If this is only a test
I hope I do my best
You know I won't forget

When I fold the cold in my jet-lag palm
When I soak so long I forget my mother
Will I set the sun
On a big-wheeled wagon?
Oh I'm bragging
I'm always in love

It's a drag I sang
Oh I'm always in love
I'm worried
I'm always in love

Oh I'm worried
I'm worried
I'm worried
I'm always in love
I'm worried
I'm worried
I'm always in love
I'm worried
I'm worried
I'm always in love

Laziness Is Not Pretty

2007-01-03T07:32:00.000-05:00

I hate to start the new year off with a bit of "hate" but unfiortunately, that is how I roll. What's my beef, you ask? Sheer laziness.

9pm Monday night marked the end of a 24-hour bender which translated to me needing all of yesterday off to recover. That's what vacay is for so I might as well use it to better my personal health. Anyway, for the last several weeks my fridge and cupboards have been stocked in true bachelor fashion: beer & hot sauce and stale Triscuits & Skippy. Finding myself somewhat upright and mobile after noon yesterday, I figured the rest of my free day would best be spent returning my soiled tuxedo and buying some fresh groceries.

Sidebar: The white dinner jacket is a fantastic tuxedo option for standing out in a crowd (although I did get more compliments from men than women which is scary -- flattering, but scary). However the major drawback is that it is white. In the light of day I could not believe some of the damage done with the flotsam and jetsam of the NYE bacchanal smeared from sleeve to sleeve. A bit of shocked investigation on my part turned up dirt, grime, makeup, lipstick, wine, scotch, and champagne stains in various locations. Had a CSI unit come across the thing it would probably look as if some sex crime had occurred even though I woke up alone in my soft, warm bed on January 1st. Suffice to say, I walked into the rental place rather sheepishly yesterday.

But back to the lecture at hand; grocery shopping. Upon returning my tux I continued west on Wilson Boulevard towards Ballston to hit the Harris Teeter (a.k.a The Hottie Teeter). All went well as my weary body rejoiced at the mere sight of fresh fruits and vegetables having rightly assumed that the self-abuse of prior days was finally coming to an end -- well, one form of self-abuse at least. Unfortunately my little trip to the store was spoiled on the way out as I followed a attractive young lady pushing her cart out to the parking lot. We were parked near one another and I watched her finish loading her groceries into the car and then commit one of the tackiest sins on my list of Things One Does Not Do. She parked her now empty shopping cart in the stall adjacent to her car and drove off. Abandoned.

The goddamn entrance to the store where the carts are stacked was easily, 20 yeards away. 60 fucking feet but she could not find the energy to return her borrowed item to its home as the rest of society does daily. I don't know about you, but I blame her parents. And gay marriage.

Friday 1-Track

2006-12-29T07:42:00.000-05:00

I have been on absolute cruise control this week and therefore had no motivation to put together an 8-Track. But that does not matter because it's almost New Year's and there is only one NYE-themed song that anyone ever need concern him/herself with.

"Pop open a bottle of bubbly, yeah. Here's to another goddamn New Year..."

The Dismemberment Plan - "Ice of Boston" - The Dismemberment Plan is Terrified

Jesus, I miss this band. I really do. Anyway, this is the ultimate NYE song because it is actually about that night rather than any metaphorical themes surrounding the notion of a "new year." Plus the tune f'ing rocks and it's got one of the greatest audience shout-out-loud lines if you were seeing them at the 9:30 or especially The Cat, "Oh, I'm fine mom -- HOW'S WASHINGTON?!?!" Spend $0.99 from one of the many iTunes gift cards you received and obtain this song. Then go out and buy all of their albums. And then have a very Happy New Year.

Gerry and Henry

2006-12-27T07:50:00.000-05:00

I thought this was an interesting snippet from Henry Kissinger regarding the temperament, so to speak, of the late President Gerald Ford:

"The modern politician is less interested in being a hero than a superstar. Heroes walk alone; stars derive their status from approbation. Heroes are defined by inner values, stars by consensus. When a candidate's views are forged in focus groups and ratified by television anchorpersons, insecurity and superficiality become congenital. Radicalism replaces liberalism, and populism masquerades as conservatism."

There is no denying Kissinger's brilliance, however it is a shame that he will leave behind a legacy that could at best be described as controversial. While I sympathize with (and "endorse") the pragmatism of realpolitik, I think Kissinger brought a dangerous fatalism and misanthropy to his practice of it which directly led to US-backing of some of the more despicable regimes of the late-twentieth century.

Like Ford when when he pardoned Nixon, perhaps Kissinger thought he was doing what was best for the country. Something about "the road to hell" springs to mind...

Shoulder To The Wheel

2006-12-26T07:29:00.000-05:00

Shortened by a day and firmly lodged between two major holidays, this is probably the oddes work week of the year. For one, the office environment is a bit askew when you come in each day and I wonder sometimes if I am in the right place or right time. Traffic is light to nonexistent, the days are inevitably short, the vibe is super casual, and it is almost if we are getting paid to do nothing at all. Unsettling. I would not be at all surprised to find cellophane flowers, tangerine trees, and marmalade skies when I step back outside.

I would take it all in stride and enjoy this long strange trip if I did not have so damn much that needed to be done. Contracts funded by federal tax dollars never go unworked and I have a lot of shit to do irrespective of the slack-induced haze of the holday season. Eating non-stop for the last two days (and thinking about drinking non-stop in the coming days) has made me bloated and unfocused. As I suck down my morning coffee and and attempt to mentally compile the list of things that I will fail to accomplish today, my mind keeps returning to thoughts of a heavy lunch and an even heavier nap.

Of course adding to the difficulty are the extracurricular social "burdens" I have put on my back to carry around between now and the end of 2006. In addition to my daily paycheck-justifying activities I somehow ended up with a gig to play, a wedding to attend, and a black tie New Year's Eve party to host. All within a 72-hour period. Fortunately I know how to prioritize everything on my To Do List:

Learn how to tie a bow tie before Sunday.
Try to return to the office after lunch each day.
...

Fuck it.

Bats, Christmas, Acrimony

2006-12-22T12:59:00.001-05:00

I thought I had Christmas shopping down to a simplified science of Spartan efficiency. Outside of one gag gift, I was only going to buy gifts for my immediate family. My sister and I brilliantly decided to divvy up the ‘rents this year with her buying something for my mom and me shopping for my dad and both of us taking credit for everything. Cake. I got online and ordered one big box item that was delivered to my door. Then I went to Williams Sonoma, bought one big box item for my sister and with very little sweat or aggravation was done shopping. Or so I thought.

It turns out that I have one more present yet to buy, here on one of the worst shopping days of the year. And were it not for some sense of social obligation I would not be shopping at all for this person. I typically reserve gift-giving for friends and family but this individual I consider to be one of my arch-nemeses. He is my parents’ neighbor and he is 5 years old.

Our families are good friends and we have spent the last several Christmas Eve’s together with this year being no different. It is somewhat awkward because everyone feels compelled to do the gift exchange, with them usually giving me some well-intentioned gift for which I have absolutely no use -- last year was a CD by some female “jazz” vocalist which may still be somewhere in my parents’ house bound in its unopened cellophane. (Yes, I know that I am not a very good person.) Gifts to them, on the other hand, are usually just gifts for their little boy with whom I have a sometimes genial but often adversarial relationship.

For the longest time he was the apple of both his mother’s and my mother’s eye. She often babysat him and as an infant he seemed to be a very loveable little guy. It was cool as I though he could serve as the ersatz baby brother I never had. Well as he’s gotten older he has grown a lot more precocious and moody. The frightening irony is that he is growing to be more and more like me each day and we can therefore never be pals. I think there is some theory or phrase about people not liking other people who are most like themselves (is that self-loathing?). Anyway, that nicely characterizes our relationship.

When we are together there will usually be an argument of some kind. He is too smart for his own good and feels the need to interject his nascent opinion (usually about how badly or wrongly I am doing something) regarding everything. As a person with the nasty habit of correcting people’s grammar and always needing to trump the anecdotal knowledge of others, this fucking drives me nuts. Accusations of being a jerk or “meanie” are hurled about, when his mother is not looking I will knock him over (I think he has some inner ear issue and is therefore easily toppled), he in return has punched me in the junk on more than one occasion, use of my parents’ computer has been fought over (he always wants to play some stupid game on the Nickelodeon website -- a site for which I get in trouble for blocking), I have gone into long diatribes about how the Power Rangers suck and would shit their pants at the mere site of The Autobots, he has only seen the awful, awful Star Wars prequels, and so on. Obviously this feud is intractable and will no doubt end in a “pistols at dawn” scenario.

But, he is 5 and I am not which means that I must somehow be the bigger person. And this year that entails me getting him a present so I am leaving work early today to find something kid-appropriate that has anything to do with bats. Bats. He is in a bat phase and loves shooting his mouth off about all the bat facts he knows. “Did you know that bats sleep during the day?” No shit? I have a Master’s Degree and that somehow escaped my knowledge. “What’s a masterz pee?” Nevermind.

So fine, I’ll buy him a picture book or something and have my sister wrap it. I’m gonna make a great dad one day.

Friday 8-Track

2006-12-22T07:19:00.000-05:00

It's Christmas time kids, so today's theme was yet another no-brainer. I only wish I could have come up with a Festivus-themed selection. I got all nostalgic with this week's installment and it came surprisingly easy. Enjoy.

Run DMC - "Christmas in Hollis" - A Vey Special Christmas

Hearing this song is always one of the more sublime holiday moments for me. Sampled from Clarence Carter's "Back Door Santa" (itself a fantastic Xmas tune), Run, D, and Jam Master Jay add their own chapter to the Christmas Legend. An illin' reindeer indeed.

Mariah Carey - "All I Want For Christmas Is You" - Merry Christmas

I am seriously "gay" for this song. There are a number of reasons for this but even the pseudo-anonymity of the internet will not get me to go into detail. I think it is safe to say that this song is from the waning days of Mariah's pre-skank era which is a shame because she could have been a very classy performer. Honestly, this is a really well-written song. It's got the feel of a Phil Spector or Brian Wilson-produced classic and you can't beat those sleigh bells. Plus, who wouldn't want to hear that sentiment from a woman?

The Chipmunks - "The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Don't Be Late)" - Christmas Wih The Chipmunks

Perhaps my favorite holiday tune, with enough booze in me I can do a pretty accurate take on this song. Maybe it's the "childish" timelessness of this song but everything about it always seems perfect. From the lilting syncopation of the piano, to the chattering in the intro ("Alvin? Alvin? ALVIN!?!?"), the simplicity of their Christmas wish list, and of course that minor chord turnaround at the end of the chorus, Ralph Bagdasarian hit this one out of the park.

Bruce Springsteen - "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town" - Christmas of Hope

I'm pretty sure this recording well pre-dates the album it appeared on becasue it defintely has the sound of those live E Street glory years. I could probably do without the Boss's little talky parts that he is so fond of but if that is the price to pay, then so be it. I love those huge hits on the chorus and Max's big drum breaks on the "you better be good for goodness sake" part. This is a prime example, and sadly one of the few, of a rock version of a holiday classic done right.

Vince Guaraldi - "Christmas Time Is Here" - A Charlie Brown Christmas

Last weekend I went to the Kennedy Center to see a friend who performs with the Washington Master Chorale. They do a holiday concert each year and it is always enjoyable. This year's very pleasant surprise was Vince Guaraldi's "Christmas Time Is Here." It has become a cliche at this point, but this song is just so damn pretty. What I think is really brilliant about this song though is how Guaraldi very subtley captures some of the underlying sadness of the Peanuts cartoons within the melody. The way that first line drops a whole step and adds that 9-chord, it's very moving.

Arthur Fiedler & The Boston Pops - "Sleigh Ride" - Pops Christmas Party

This song will always be significant for me. I was very fortunate to have moved to the school district in Herndon where I spent my formative years because we had one of the finest high school band programs in the country. Some of the pieces we played over the years were absolutely incredible and rivaled anything most college symphonic bands were capable of. Anyway, every winter we did a holiday concert and this arrangement of the Leroy Anderson classic was one of the main features. When I hear those performances in my head they sound just like the Pops' classic recording -- perhaps it's a bit of revisionist history on my part. I met one of my best friends in 6th grade band and we are lucky enough to still be playing music together almost 18 years later. He is a drummer and I was always jealous that he got to play the wood slap part in this song. You know the part, just listen for the big "THWACK."

Nat King Cole - "The Christmas Song" - Nat King Cole Story

The moments when I actually think there might be some kind of Higher Power are often when I hear a voice that is seemingly handed down from on high. Neil Finn and Grant Lee Phillips are two people who come to mind and without a doubt, Nat King Cole. The man had a voice that was so honey smoothe you would swear it was otherworldly. I like this song because of the strong imagery and it is just so damn beautiful.

King's College Choir - "Gloria In Excelsis Deo" - King's Christmas Collection

Catholicism does weird things to you. This song will be forever burned into my mind during Christmas time because of all of those damn midnight masses. But that's cool because the Eccard composition of the Roman Catholic doxology is pretty badass. Not quite up there with the "Messiah" but powerful nonetheless. Yet another part of my youth that I will never shake.

Happy holidays!

Sir, You Make Me Laugh

2006-12-20T08:10:00.000-05:00

I've always been a little jealous of Post writer David Segal. Mostly because he got to interview GBV and play with them on stage at a show in Philly, and because he gets to publish things like this in a national newspaper:

Donald Trump's business acumen and net worth have been fervently debated
for as long as he and his inexplicable hairdo have preoccupied this city. But
there can be little question about the guy's hunches as a publicity-ravenous
egomaniac and preening huckster. In that department, the man is an artist -- and
Tuesday, quite frankly, he made his masterpiece.

And here's a blast from the past. I was at this show and recall it vividly (especially the part about Nate begging for a joint).

Holidays On Ice

2006-12-19T07:32:00.000-05:00

Tonight is the annual Fellas Night Out in honor of the holiday season. Stretching our heterosexuality to the limit, a group of me and my buddies get together each year for the Double Secret Santa Gag Gift Exchange followed by a Caps game (Jesus I hate hockey, why can't Christmas be in the spring?). I'm rather proud of the gift I picked up this year as it has everything to do with my buddy living across the hall from his ex -- check that -- twice ex'd girlfriend. Stupendous.

However, it is a bit of a bummer since this year could be the last year that we do something like this. One recently married friend is moving away in the spring, another we suspect will soon get engaged and move away, a third is engaged and already relocated to the suburbs...you know how it goes. So hopefully we can make the most of it and we'll get a repeat of last year when a group of sorority sisters was sitting near us at the game and they all had, swear to g-d, lollipops. I'm serious, they were sucking on lollipops for the entire first period. My lascivious thoughts alone warranted at least a misdemeanor charge.

Friday 8-Track

2006-12-14T20:38:00.000-05:00

Happy Hannukah, kids! This week's 8-Track is dedicated to some of my favorite Hebrew rockers.

Rush - "2112" - 2112

(Gary Lee Weinrib a.k.a. Geddy Lee) A seven movement prog-metal suite about a galactic revolt in a far away and future world -- fuck yeah. One day Rush will get their full due.

Jane's Addiction - "Three Days" - Ritual de lo Habitual

(Perry Bernstein a.k.a. Perry Farrell) While Dave Navarro is mostly a C-list reality TV celebrity these days, this 10 minute masterstroke will remind you what a badass guitarist he was. And if you also forgot, what an incredibly layered band Jane's was.

Kiss - "Shout It Out Loud" - Destroyer

(Chaim Witz a.k.a. Gene Simmons) The amazing thing about this song, is that you know this song. Even if you've never ever heard it before, trust me, you know this song. They were corny as hell, but man could they write an anthem. When the chorus kicks in I dare you to try and not..."Shout it, shout it, shout it out loud!"

The Cars - "Magic" - Heartbeat City

(Elliot Steinberg a.k.a. Elliot Easton) Well after their classic new wave period and smack dab in the middle of their MTV heyday -- I love this video. I was young enough to think that I could somehow rig up a way to walk on the water at my pool. Oh well. Good song, cheesey, but good.

T-Rex - "Get It On" - Electric Warrior

(Marc Feld a.k.a. Marc Bolan) A dirty track from one of the kings of glam. This song has got a great groove and aged much better than a lot of its contemporaries.

Van Halen - "Everybody Wants Some" - Women and Children First

(David Lee Roth) This song, for me, will be forever linked with the hamburger claymation scene in Better Off Dead. Plus this tune just f'in rocks. Dave's dirty talk at the end is alwys a nice touch but seriously, could any other band ever touch these guys at their peak? Probably not.

Guns n' Roses - "Nightrain" - Appetite For Destruction

(Saul Hudson a.k.a. Slash) "I drink my Molotov cocktails with a match to go, I smoke my cigarette with style." If I could make a Les Paul sound the way Slash does, I would be a very happy man.

Robert Zimmerman - "Hurricane" - Desire

(Bob Dylan) The true story or Rubin "Hurricane" Carter, this is one of my fave all-time Dylan tunes. Considering the wordiness of the story it is amazing how well he shapes it into lyric prose. But what I really dig is how he marries the bitterness of the story to the odd, off-beat, and angry score he wrote for it. Great song and used for a great sequence in Dazed and Confused.

I Wrote A Letter

2006-12-13T13:23:00.000-05:00

Shipped 'em. 27 Christmas cards and counting. I don't even like Christmas that much but I always do Christmas cards. It must be one of those nature-nurture things that you just cannot stamp out. The list is the usual mix of friends, family, and friends' family...save for one. One card for which I wrote at least four revisions. One card that I honestly do not know why I am sending. Alright, that's a blatant lie.

So, how does one say "hey it's been a while and I was thinking of you but don't worry about me because I am nonchalant and cool and could really care less that you switched coasts and this really has nothing to do with my desperate need to be desired?" Easy. You buy a Shoebox Greetings card with a picture of two pigeons about to shit on a kid in a Santa hat. Now that is fucking classy.

Alphabetical - Chronological - By Genre

2006-12-11T19:57:00.000-05:00

Today's WaPo had an obit of sorts for Tower Records, the currently liquidating and soon to be out-of-business music store chain. I will miss their Fairfax store that although pricey, always had a pretty decent selection where one could find back catalogue albums not typically stocked at Borders, Best Buy, and the like. While the article reported on the impending closure the main thrust of it was a lament over the impending death of the tangible, physical album due to the multitudinous legal and illegal music downloading mediums. And I sympathize. I wonder how long it will be before market forces make it no longer feasible for labels and distributors to pour resources into the manufacturing of CD's. Even worse, will consumer demand for the physical album dry up altogether?

Not too long ago a friend of mine emailed me stating that he had "just made the leap." He had cashed a check for $1200 given to him by a local record trader in exchange for the entirety of his somewhat substantial collection of CD's. Being a devout member of the Apple/Mac cult and having transferred every piece of music he owned to his hard drive, he no longer felt the need to suffer what he saw as the "burden" of an album collection. I just don't get it. I could believe he did it as it was a long time coming but I could not empathize with his rationale. It seemed wasteful. It seemed betraying. It seemed as if he had somehow lessened the music that he owned.

I love my albums (disturbingly so). I love that with a single look I can absorb with my eyes what would take hundreds of hours to do with my ears. Their presence makes my home complete. I need the ability to reference lyrics, credits, release dates, labels, etc. without having to turn on my computer. And to be quite honest, I foolishly believe that I will marry the woman (or at the very least take her out for a steak dinner) who is seduced by my albums. "What a great collection, you have such incredible taste. Hey, can I get your opinion on this I underwear set I just bought at Victoria's Secret?" Yes it is true, all of my sexual fantasies involve ego-stroking, the validation of my cred, and of course frilly underthings.

So you see I must maintain my albums. I am chained to my compact discs because without them I would doom myself to a life of solitude. Of course some have intimated that it is in fact my weird obsession with such congeries that keeps me single. Paradoxes abound...

I, Concede

2006-12-11T07:22:00.000-05:00

I hated Titantic. I never even saw the entire movie but I just thought it was a lot of overwrought blokbuster swill. Seeing Kate Winslet semi-nude was kind of awesome (I think there was a bare-ass shot but that may be a bit of revisionist fantasy on my part) but I mostly thought the movie sucked. And because of that, I never bought into the hype about Leonardo Dicaprio. I thought he was good, fine, passable, whatever but all of the talk of his brilliance and depth as an artist -- I didn't see it. Not in any of his films.

However yesterday I finally got around to seeing The Departed. For starters, it was fun seeing Jack Nicholson in a way reprising his Joker role from Batman. And Matt Damon is really good. I was already sold on him because of the "Bourne films" and the Kevin Smith cameos (and his lip-sync'd performance of "Scotty Doesn't Know" in Eurotrip) but this was yet another reminder of why he is more than a pretty face. Dicaprio though, finally won me over. This movie was so good and he was so convincing in it, even more convincing than Depp in Donnie Brasco, that I am giving in. Is Leonardo Dicaprio the "actor of our generation?" Not definitively but I am putting him in the running.

Grammys Shmammys

2006-12-08T10:37:00.000-05:00

The nominations for this year’s Grammys are out and it is of course time for me to chime in with my quickly-depreciating 2 cents. Lest you think I am some cranky contrarian obscurantist tilting at Establishment windmills, let me be clear that I bear no grudge against the Academy of Recording Arts & Sciences itself. Its members get together annually to categorize and rank the year’s musical releases and then celebrate their choice. That is their trip and that’s cool.

What does irk me however, is the general public perception that this award show is somehow, I don’t know, true. As if the Grammys actually mean anything or even deign to acknowledge noteworthy artistic achievements. I enjoy list-making as much as the next hipster poseur, but I would never assume the activity to have any real import. The opposite, I think, is true of the Grammys. Here is my wholly subjective and unsubstantiated argument:

The Colour and the Shape. Like any organization of its size and influence, the Recording Academy has a shape and feel to it. Collectively it cannot help but possess certain political and social proclivities. Fro example, the Bush-whacking pop of the Dixie Chicks earned three nominations while Toby Keith’s waaaaay right-leaning jingoism got zippy. (As a corollary, the Country Music Association opted to not recognize the Dixie Chicks at all this year.) Style- and talent-wise, I think it is fair to say that the Chicks and Keith operate within the same stratum of Corporate Country fluff but it seems as if it was their politics that distinguished each of them this year.

The lady doth protest too much, methinks. The Grammys love volume, as in quantity. Be it awards or nominations, if you are going to do it, do it with gusto I suppose. Mary J. Blige gets the most love this year with 8 nominations (one of which is for her horrible U2-collaborated retread of “One”). Eight. That seems excessive to me. John Mayer and the Dixie Chicks each got 5 nominations while the Red Hot Chili Peppers got a whopping 6. And again, really? I guess it just raise my eyebrow (either Shorty or Kevin) when I se the Academy dole out honors in chunks.

Bring out your dead. Speaking of which, Mary J. Blige? The Chili Peppers? Neil Young? F’ing Dylan? Come on. Is it really necessary to continue recognizing artists who are well past their artistic prime? It is much like the old broken down veteran occupying a spot on the roster. Remember the Mary J. collaboration with Method Man after 36 Chambers was released? That was cool. Mother’s Milk and Blood Sugar Sex Magic were albums that caught my ear. But all of that was a long time ago.

Safety first. One of the hallmarks of a Grammy list of nominees is that it is unchallenging. It’s safe. James Blunt, Corrine Bailey Rae, the Chili Peppers, Carrie Underwood; for all of their merits none of them are taking any chances. The listener is not going to be challenged by these artists which I would think would be a contributor to a major artistic award. Gnarls Barkley is this year’s token “edgy” selection but would they be here if “Crazy” was not a huge Top 40 hit? Doubtful. Very doubtful.

So what is the point of my bitter, old man, Andy Rooney-like rant, you ask. It is that I just wonder sometimes, I just wonder what the uninitiated music listener who enjoys the kinds of albums and songs recognized by the Grammys, would think of the albums that the proactive music-obsessive gushed over this year. If you came in neutral and sat down with James Blunt’s album and Tommy Keene’s, would you really that “you’re beautiful, you’re beautiful” song is that great? I gotta believe not.

Friday 8-Track

2006-12-08T07:36:00.000-05:00

It's 80's Movie Soundtrack Day!

John Parr - "St. Elmo's Fire (Man in Motion)" - St. Elmo's Fire

I think I've seen this movie more times than I have actually hung out at Third Edition. Not the best Brat Pack film but perhaps one of the best cheesy tunes to come from one. This song has got L.A. Big Studio Production all over it and I love it. Dig those synthesized bass and horn parts.

Kenny Loggins - "Footloose" - Footloose

Seriously, this song kicks ass -- that frenetic walking bass groove is excellent. My old band used to play this and the crowd always got into it; unironically so. Probably one of many movies where the theme song was better than the film, I still can't help but get down with the big dance scene at the end. Did my friends and I used to breakdance in the basement? Yes. At 7 was I a better dancer than Chris Penn? Yes.

Huey Lewis & The News - "The Power of Love" - Back To The Future

I guess "Back In Time" would be the choice more lyrically germane to the film but this was by far the better of the two songs and it was what the Pinheads played in their dance band audition before abruptly being cut off by a cameo-ing Huey Lewis because they were "just too darn loud." Huey Lewis et al will probably always be thought of as "80's artists" but they were a real band with serious chops. The songs were often corny as hell but they could play their asses off. And what a good movie.

Ray Parker Jr. - "Ghostbusters" - Ghostbusters

Speaking of Huey Lewis, he ended up sueing Ray Parker Jr. for allegedly ripping off "I Want A New Drug" for this song. Whatever, it spawned one of the most ridiculous videos of my MTV-addled youth. This song has not held up well over time but not matter because the film has. As outrageous as it was, the humor was brilliantly dry. "Janine, someone with your qualifications would have no trouble finding a top-flight job in either the food service or housekeeping industries."

Psychadelic Furs - "Pretty in Pink" - Pretty in Pink

This might be the only song in today's 8-track that isn't cheesy schlock. For starters, no John Hughes film from his glory years could ever be considered that and neither is this tune. Social D did a pretty rockin' cover of this song but the original is always the best. And if you are going to the original, then go to The Original. The song helped to inspire Hughes' film and was subsequently re-recorded for the soundtrack. But the original session off of Talk Talk Talk, that is the one for the money. Richard Butler's voice says it all.

Harold Faltermyer - "Axel F" - Beverly Hills Cop

Remember when music stores (I'm talking musical instrument retailers) used to be in the mall? Every one of them had some big electronic keyboard display and this was the song I would rather weakly play everytime I was in the vicinity of one. Of course sometime after I saw Big and it was all "Heart and Soul" from that point on. Can you still buy those gigantic floor keyboards?

Limahl - "The Never Ending Story" - The Never Ending Story

The dance-mix version of this song has tried to ruin my youth but I shall not let it win. Me and my Luck Dragon are damn-near invincible. I had a crush on the princess of Fantasia when I was 8. I figured that if I could come up with a better name than Bastian did, she would be my girlfriend. (How could I possibly still be single?) "Bastian, I need a name!"

Kenny Loggins - "Danger Zone" - Top Gun

The king of the 80's soundtrack gets to do double-duty today. I don't know why, but my most vivid memory of this song is listening to it in 6th grade gym class while doing shuttle runs. IT might have even been a 45 we were listening to. While I think it is pretty clear why K. Loggins gets top billing (Caddyshack, Footloose, Over The Top, and Top Gun), as to why I have chosen the theme song to the most homo-erotic "action film" of all time, well that I'm not so sure about. "You can be my wingman anytime." It's a good thing I didn't pick "Playin' With the Boys" -- yup, the volleyball scene.

Santa is early...

2006-12-07T10:28:00.000-05:00

...and god bless him for that. I love shopping for myself.

BTW - Hats off to Joe Pernice and company last night. A great show and a perfect mid-week night out. What a good songwriter; listen, learn, fall in love.

Growin' Up

2006-12-06T07:39:00.000-05:00

On Saturday my friends and I celebrated the 30th birthday of one of our good friends. As he is the first in our circle to watch the odometer roll over he is a little anxious about being alone in near-middle age. Of course in three months the remainder of the Class of '95 will begin to topple like dominoes so we can all together wallow in abject wheredowegofromhere. Which is very appropriate since, like everyone else in this little digital realm of ours, I constantly focus on four things:

Me.
The lack of sex in my sex life.
The lack of female persons in my personal life.
And, the recession of my youth.

The last item being something that a few of my cohorts and I enjoy talking about regularly since we are all suffering from the some condition; aging. It's not as if some switch is thrown the instant one turns 30, but there are noticeable changes (whether they be sometime before or sometime after that day) that are ultimately associated with one's third decade. I have recently discovered, at least for me, some important rules to the new 30 Paradigm.

Exercise. If you work out and are not doing it four to five days a week, you are wasting your time. Yeah, it takes twice as long now to recover from serious physical strain but it also takes three times as long to metabolize all of the carbs I can't stop eating. Listen to Yoda, "Do or do not. There is no try."

Running game. 30 is approcahing something like mature sexy. At least that is what I hear (or depserately hope for). The point is that at around 30 you can confidently get away with things you could not as when you were younger. Specifically going in dead cold, no introductions, to a group of women at a social event and simply saying "hi, my name is ----" actually works. At 23 you didn't have the ocnifdence to pull it off. At 30 you don't give a fuck anymore, you know what you want.

Owning property. You either do or you do not. If you haven't bought anything by now you are not going to unless circumstances drastically change for you. And that's just fine. Sign another 12-month lease and let everyone else sweat the interest rate hikes.

Mug Night at Whitlow's. It 's out of the question, just let it go. There are plenty of other options.

Work. If you are at all career-oriented, these are your Hall of Fame years. You are experienced enough to do just about anything but young enough (corporately-speaking) to keep accelerating your advancement. Now's the time to make your name and then you can ride it out through your 40's into early retirement.

Rock. You still can.

Friday 8-Track

2006-12-01T08:05:00.000-05:00

For no particular reason, this week's theme is The British Isles...but not England (too easy). I was going to include any and all fromer British provinces but could not think of any cool bands from the Faulklands.

Thin Lizzy - "The Boys Are Back In Town" - Jailbreak
[Ireland]

A few weeks back I mentioned something about starting a power pop band. Well, scratch that. Now it's going to be a hard-rocking band with lots of twin guitar leads. It seems like this is one of those "classic rock" songs that never waned in its badassedness. Great tune. Now, there are some people who would suggest that Thin Lizzy helped to usher in the "New Wave of British Heavy Metal. " If someone you know ever uses the term "New Wave of British Heavy Metal," you have my permission to punch that person in the face.

Big Country - "In A Big Country" - The Crossing
[Scotland]

"Everybody Wants To Rule The World" may be my favorite 80's song (the 80's as a genre, that is) but "In A Big Country" might be my favorite song from the 80's, period (except for maybe every track on 1984 but other than that...). It's amazing what you can accomplish with a couple of guitars, endless studio hours, and an MXR Pitch Transposer 129. The guitar work on this record is really quite an achievement.

My Bloody Valentine - "Blown A Wish" - Loveless
[Ireland]

If "In A Big Country" was an "achievement" then Loveless was a triumph. Often referenced as one of the "greatest albums of blah blah blah...", I don't find it as gripping as many of the albums I consider to be among the greats but as far as creating a truly unique sonic landscape it is unparalleled. I can't think of another album that actually reachs out from the speakers and envelops the listener.

Mclusky - "Lightsabre Cocksucking Blues" - Mclusky Do Dallas
[Wales]

Need I say more?

The Frames - "Star Star" - Dance the Devil
[Ireland]

This is a really pretty tune. A cool band with a varied set of styles I would liked to have seen them live. They suffered from comaprisons to U2 (is every Irish band compared to U2?) but I think were a lot edgier and thankfully lacked some of that overwrought earnestness.

Catatonia - "Road Rage" - International Velvet
[Wales]

Cerys Matthews is a hottie and that mumbly Welsh accent of hers just kills me. That's pretty much it.

The Pogues - "Body Of An American" - Rum Sodomy & the Lash [2005 Reissue Bonus Track]
[Ireland]

Shane McGowan resented Elvis Costello's methods as a producer but I think this album turned out pretty damn well. And what a great title. This song is a good example of the Pogue's Irish Folk-Punk which is a terribly reductive term for their unique brand of music but unfortunately I can't think of a better descriptor right now. It's good stuff.

Teenage Fanclub - "Alcoholiday" - Bandwagonesque
[Scotland]

They're giving the Wren a run for the title of Most Appearances In A Friday 8-Track, but what list of British Isles bands would be complete without Scotland's greatest pop band? "Went to bed, but I'm not ready. Baby I've been fucked already." Indeed.

Quote of the Weekend

2006-11-28T07:48:00.000-05:00

"So we've got a new album out. It's pretty much like the other two; these guys play a lot of music and I talk a lot of bullshit."

Craig Finn of The Hold Steady
Black Cat, Washington DC

It seems I have discovered that the basement bar at Cafe St. Ex is, for all intents and purposes, the Black Cat's new green room. For the second "show in a row" I have avoided the opening acts by hiding at St. Ex -- trying to comprehend silent and un-subtitled anime while slugging beers and losing at eyeball tag -- and saw the headliner hanging out. If this happened twice to me alone, then I would guess that people playing shows at the Cat, especially on a weekend, often choose to hang out before the show at St. Ex rather than linger backstage. St. Ex in particular because it is a good bar and practically next door, but generally because backstage at the Cat isn't all that exciting.

I've had the good fortune of spending time backstage at both the 9:30 Club and the Black Cat and there are a few appreciable differences. Backstage at the 9:30 is your more typical Rock 'n Roll experience. There is a lounge area with weird furniture, a nice food spread, more booze than you can shake a stick at, drugs, and a lot of general wastedness -- although this was GBV so this could have been an in-store at Borders and there would still have been a lot of "general wastedness." Now this wasn't Behind the Music or anything and by and large the scene was pretty nonchalant but the point is that at the 9:30 there are some elements of the sterotypical Backstage Experience.

The Cat, on the other hand, is a somewhat different beast. Perhaps in keeping with its indie cred, the accomodations are pretty straightforward. A few doorless rooms (although maybe they have doors now, it's been a while), cobbled together furniture pieces, and except for the noise bleeding in from the Red Room, it's pretty quiet. Not exactly the bacchanalian environment one might envision. Now there is the one semi-scary bathroom up half a flight of stairs that looks like a convenient place for doing blow off of the sink or something shadey in the shower but I doubt that is a common occurrence. In reality I think there is something of a common strain that runs among many of the acts that come through the Black Cat and that is that they are not looking for any of that attendant rockstar bullshit. So it does make sense to show up to the club, drop off your gear, and stroll down the block to have some wine and food with friends before hitting the stage. Not a bad life...

Friday 8-Track

2006-11-17T08:00:00.000-05:00

Since the Friday 8-Track will be off for the holidays next week, I'm gonna go ahead and do a Thanksgiving list this week. Jesus, I am definitely reaching on these tracks. They really have little or nothing to do with Thanksgiving but I had to give it a shot. So, as a bonus I am will incorporate a little contest into this week's installment. The first person to identify each of the alleged Thanksgiving thematic elements for all 8 songs will be the proud winner of the two Friday 8-Tracks of his or her choice which will be made avilable for download. Good luck.

Dave Matthews Band - "Tripping Billies" - Remember Two Things

I was waaaaay into DMB in college. I traded tapes, slept in the student center for tickets, and spent a lot of time trying to learn every song they ever played. This is one of the songs that completely hooked me on the band. Still in my jazz and jam band phase I was captivated by the mix of energy, strong pop hooks, and improvisational playing. As the band got stale I grew out of that phase, I guess, but this song still takes me back.

Paul Simon - "American Tune" - There Goes Rhymin' Simon

This one should be a gimme. Not one of my favorite Paul Simon tunes but it is an appropriate fit for the Thanksgiving mix. Can you believe he married Edie Brickell? What I am...

R.E.M. - "Begin the Begin" - Life's Rich Pageant

Peter Buck's jangley Rickenbacker 360 is probably one of the most identifiable sounds of 80's college radio. I think he deserves more credit for taking his somewhat limited guitar skills and stretching them across a great run of albums, including this one. "Begin the Begin" is a perfect example of Buck's mix of Byrds-y jangle and post-punk wail.

They Might Be Giants - "Istanbul (Not Constantinople)" - Flood

One of the coolest covers ever just happens to be one of the geekiest songs performed by the geekiest of bands. Birdhouse is definitely the best song on this album, but Istanbul runs a close second. I still chuckle when I hear it.

Steely Dan - "Black Friday" - Katy Lied

This song kicks ass. Dig that keyboard intro and shuffle beat. " Gonna let the world pass by me. The Archbishop's gonna sanctify me. And if he don't come across I'm gonna let it roll."

Built To Spill - "Cortez the Killer" - Live

20 minutes of indie rock guitar wankery. This song is absolutely brutal live but you gotta appreciate Doug for going for it. This wouldn't have been my first choice of Neil Young tunes to cover but that's why Doug's the man and I am not.

Sly & the Family Stone - "Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)" - Greatest Hits

I would be hard-pressed to come up with another band that grooved as hard as Sly & the Family Stone. I would rank their performance along with Alvin Lee's (Ten Years After) and Santana's as the best of Woodstock. Larry Graham slaps and pops his bass all over this track. I dare you not to dance.

Rush - "Tom Sawyer" - Moving Pictures

I love Rush. They are every dork's favorite rock band and you can see it at a show where the crowd is comprised mainly of Trek fans and metal-heads who like to play D&D. Seeing them play the entirety of 2112 live is up there as one of my top concert experiences. Anyway, this is one of my least favorite songs of theirs but I am desperately reaching for Thanksgiving "themes."

Well that's all of 'em. Some references are obvious while the others are ridiculously thin. Enjoy.

R.I.P. Milton Friedman

2006-11-16T14:28:00.000-05:00

Milton Friedman passed away today.

To say that he was a giant in the field of political economic theory would not be an understatement. The influence of his ideas and the theories he supported could certainly be felt within the economics department at George Mason University (a program that is home to not one, but two Nobel laureates). One of his achievements/honors not mentioned in the WaPo (AP) obit is having written the introduction to the fifitieth anniversary edition of F.A. Hayek's The Road to Serfdom. This is a text that had a great impact on my political outlook as Friedman and Hayek were both great proponents of economic and individual liberty.

Parents Just Don't Understand

2006-11-16T07:13:00.000-05:00

I cannot believe that I had to call my parents and scold them yesterday. Scold them for not being more considerate. Scold them for not being more discreet. Scold them for not...not...not just resigning to old age and turning in their libidos. My poor sister; I'm just glad it wasn't me.

Yesterday afternoon my sister called me wondering aloud if her county health insurance would cover psychotherapy. These sort of dramatics are a little over the top for her so I had no idea what she was talking about. After informing her that I was not in the mood for this kind of crap, the worst story I have ever heard came pouring out.

"I called mom. I told her I was coming over. They knew I was coming over."
"Yeah, so?"
"So, I went over."
"So what? I really don't have time for this."
"They were going at it."
"Shut the fuck up! You walked in on them?"
"No. I could hear them from the kitchen!!"
"What did you do?"
"I started banging on the wall and told them to stop."

Eww. They are not supposed to be doing that, right? I mean my parents were only supposed to have sex twice. Once to conceive me and once for my sister. Done. Stictly for procreational -- not recreational -- purposes. Confused and mildy traumatized I called my mom at home and demanded that she explain this lascivious behavior.

"You know that she and I come over unannounced all the time. You shouldn't be doing that."
"Doing what?"
"You know what. She called me."
"Do you two just play telephone all day?"
"You. Shouldn't. Be. Doing. That!"
"Why not?"
"You're old."
"I would think that you would be happy that your father and I still love each other."
"Yeah, but you don't have to love each other."
"This is none of your business. I don't probe into your personal life."
"You do everyday!"
"Hmm. Yes, and while were on this subject, are you running around with loose women?"

Fucking derailed. This is my mom, she can turn a conversation on a dime. I am the one who is supposed to be on the moral high horse and without even knowing it she trapped me within the walls of my own glass house. Interestingly, this is one of the very few conversations I have ever had with my mother about sex.

Throughout my adult life we have been engaged in this delicate dance where she gets to convince herself that her once-Catholic son, being unmarried, leads a very celibate life. Not unlike how I once naively sold myself on the idea of my parents having retired the sexual aspect of their relationship. Well since that illusion has been shattered it is time for a little tit-for-tat.

That's it. I'm shaggin' someone in my old bedroom.

Too Much Free Time

2006-11-14T21:01:00.000-05:00

I was watching a bit of The Wizard of Oz on TV the other night. Almost everyone knows about the eerie coincidence of playing Dark Side of the Moon along with film and all of the thematic synchronizations that occur. But one of the lesser well known analysis topics surrounding the film is Frank L. Baum's original intention of his book (The Wonderful Wizard of Oz). Some scholars believe that the story is an allegory for the political and social issues of the time, most notably the debate regarding the US's adherence to the gold standard and a populist movement for a "bimetallic" monetary standard where the Dollar was backed by both gold and silver.

I know, it's pretty fucking out there but we studied it a bit in my Monetary Economics class in grad school and there are some good arguments in support of the theory. Here are the supposed characters inspirations, you be the judge:

Dorothy: traditional American values
Toto: Prohibitionist party (also called Teetotalers)
Scarecrow: western farmers
Tin Woodsman: industrial workers
Cowardly Lion: William Bryan
Munchkins: citizens of the East
Wicked Witch of the East: Eastern business and financial interests Grover Cleveland
Wicked Witch of the West: William McKinley
Wizard: Marcus Alonzo Hanna (chairman of the Republican party)
Oz: abbreviation for ounce of gold
Yellow Brick Road: gold standard
Cyclone: the free silver movement
Emerald City: Washington D.C.
Emerald Palace: the White House
Silver Shoes: the silver component of a bimetallic standard

At the end of the story, the Wizard cannot help Dorothy but it is rather her silver slippers that allow her to return home.

[note: In Baum's book, Dorothy's slippers where made of silver rather than rubies.]

Holiday Marketing Haiku

2006-11-13T10:53:00.000-05:00

CVS Christmas
They too have windows with lights
Thanksgiving not yet

Snowmen on display
No respect earned Thom Turkey
All sales are final

Rudolph and Santa
Homes have they already left
To shill shitty wares

Haikus are good fun
For Yoda I can talk like
Monday Monday blah

Friday 8-Track

2006-11-10T07:58:00.000-05:00

No particular theme today. A random smattering of good stuff.

Joseph Arthur - "Slide Away" - Nuclear Daydream

I just got turned on to this album. I need a few more spins before I give it a good mental review but so far, this track is the standout. Sructurally it's a pretty simple song but the atmospheric production really adds a lot. The background vocals are fantastic. Download it.

Matthew Good Band - "Hello Time Bomb" - Beautiful Midnight

Remember MTV2? At one time it was a really cool channel that showed a lot videos you would never see on TV. That's where I first discovered this album. This is a tight performance with cryptic and angst-ridden lyrics, good guitar tones, and a lot of straight-up rock.

Kathleen Edwards - "Westby" - Failer

A great songwriter with a lot of attitude and a filthy mouth. I love it. This is a really good album especially considering it was her first. The band can really play and Edwards' stories are funny, painful, and heartbreaking. This particular track is about an affair with an older man and a very knowing female lead:

Got your little secret no I will not tell
You're trying to sober up in the highway motel
And my hands are covered with your smell
You begged me to stay and sing you a song
I dance dirty for you cuz it turns you on
And I'm a little bleeder with white pants on

And if you weren't so old I'd probably keep you
If you weren't so old I'd tell my friends
But I don't think your wife would like my friends

I've got a hit for everyday of the week
I gave you something of mine that was so sweet
That I've been holding on to since I was sixteen
You call me Danny and I call you Mable
You passed out so I flicked through cable
And I stole your gold watch off the bed-side table

The Beatles - "With A Little Help From My Friends" - Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band

I heard this song for the first time in a long while just the other day. When you stop and think about it, it really is amazing how wonderfully advanced their songwriting was in the midst of a lot of "straightforward" pop music. The way that the end of "Sgt. Pepper's" modulates into the intro, the multi-layered vocal parts, and that ending...so sweet.

The Refreshments - "Banditos" - Fizzy, Fuzzy, Big & Buzzy

This song kicks ass. Plenty of rockin' guitar with a Star Trek TNG reference, what more does a boy need?

Electric Light Orchestra - "Do Ya" - A New World Record

I'm not much of an ELO fan but Jeff Lynne is a solid songwriter. I mean, the guy got to be a Wilbury so that's gotta mean something. I do find it amusing that this song and Sweet's "Fox On The Run" are somewhat interchangeable but what the hell. The guitar intro is real nice and it's got a great hook. While this track is littered with 70's Big Production flair, at its heart it's still just a plain ol' rock song.

The Wallflowers - "Angel On My Bike" - Bringing Down The Horse

Drunk in a shitty motel room in Dewey Beach last weekend (loooong story) I came across the Wallflowers performing on god knows what channel (it was 2am and my bunkmates were crashing through the door). I hadn't even thought about this band in years so when I got home I pulled out this album and you know what, it's just about as good as I thought it was 10 years ago. I never thought it would hold up but, waddayaknow. Little Boy Dylan got all of the press but he did have a top-notch band. The guitar playing on this album is really good and done with a lot of taste. This is one of my favorite tracks from the album.

Drive-By Truckers - "The Day John Henry Died" - The Dirty South

Is this a repeat? I feel like it is, but fuck it. Awesome tune. The song is waaaay better than the "John Henry was steel driving man" songs we used to sing in elementary school music class:

It didn't matter if he won, if he lived, or if he'd run.
They changed the way his job was done. Labor costs were high.
That new machine was cheap as hell and only John would work as well,
So they left him laying where he fell the day John Henry died.

Who doesn't love their rock served with a bit of commentary regarding the impact of industrialization on the 20th centruy American labourer? I sure do. Anyhorse, this song is a good introduction to what the Truckers are all about -- definitely worth downloading.

Things To Do Before You Die

2006-11-09T22:11:00.000-05:00

Punkin' Chunkin'

Gettin' Our Redneck On

Pumpkins + Booze + RV = Good Times!

Oh, come on.

2006-11-09T19:32:00.000-05:00

I just saw a commercial for Chili's. The baby-back ribs song was performed by the Old 97's. Come on!!

It Has Already Begun

2006-11-09T07:31:00.000-05:00

I am going to be extra Scrooge-y this year. November fucking 9th. Remember that date. That was the day that the holiday marketing blitz began in the '06. A new record, an all-time low. Why can't I just consume in peace?

I wrote off yesterday as a blip. A spurious data point, perhaps? Strolling through the aisles of Target stocking up on light bulbs (I think my apartment is poorly wired) I began experiencing a buzzing sensation deep within my inner ear. That sort of pain is typically brought on by holiday music but that couldn't haven't been the case yesterday. Not this early in November. Right? Wrong. I have already repressed most of the memory so I cannot even recall what song it was but then again, all those Muzak abominations sound the same to me. I did survive however and was not yet ready to condemn society as a whole. Giving the benefit of the doubt, I assumed that it was perhaps a programming mistake. Wrong again.

This morning at my local corporate beanery I was treated to even more holiday schlock on the speakers. Further dismaying me was the sight of snowmen cookies in the pastry case and a rash of holiday gitf crap on display. As I type this rant, I am drinking this morning's "Christmas Blend" out of a red and white decorative cup. To reiterate, it is only November 9th.

Look, I am not a completely horrible person. There are many things I enjoy about Annual Gift Exchange Day. Shopping for tasteless Christmas cards, new sweaters, and the annual ritual of my parents serving Lil' Smokies with the hors d'oeuvres and me bitching about the missing "mini hot dog buns." It's all good stuff but let's give it a little bit of time. A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving hasn't even aired yet.

Voyeur

2006-11-08T07:26:00.000-05:00

I happened to be staring longingly into my fridge last night when one of the young ladies in the building across the street was being dropped off by a gentleman caller. I keep my kitchen window open and for whatever reason, you can hear every little thing that goes on on my street. I heard a lot of nervous laughter and looked out and saw what had to be the conclusion of a First Date.

It's funny how obvious the signs are. They were standing a good two feet apart in front of the door. He was nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. She kept fiddling with her handbag. There was an awkwardly loud conversation with a lot of gesticulating on his part and you could tell they were both buying time to see what would happen. "Do I make a move?" "Is he gonna kiss me or what?"

I finally realized that I was blatantly staring out the window at the two of them so I shamefully closed the refrigerator door and went about my business. From the way things looked, I'm guessing that he didn't get any. But I do love those awkward moments. They're kind of exhilirating and it's all part of the chase.

Just Under The Wire...

2006-11-07T22:24:00.000-05:00

...well, I banged out my self-imposed piece of ficiton just like every other school assignment; shabbily and at the very last minute. This was more of a typing exercise than anything else, but this is the first piece of fiction I've written since high school. Base on the quality of content and razor sharp focus of the writing, I'd say it's as if no time has passed at all.

the wrong pants

“Maybe I left it in my other pants. Shit.”

Standing in a Trailways terminal in downtown Columbus is no place to be having a Missing Items crisis. My immediate future had become reliant upon a scrap of paper with a city and bus number written on it which had apparently walked off sometime between its inception and my current need for it. Sticking with the only investigation strategy I had, my hands took another desperate lap through the pockets of my pants in case it had been missed during the previous four searches.

“Sir, can I help you?”
“Yeah. Uh…I’m sorry, what?”
“Can I help you? Where would you like to go?”
“Yeah…”

There is no official diagnosis, but I’m pretty sure that alcohol greatly affects my short-term memory. The fact that I was on the wrong end of a daylong bender couldn’t even remember what city I was supposed to be going to had to be related. Generally aware of this affliction I’ve sort of taken to behaving like Guy Pearce in Memento and write down everything on Post It Notes when drinking. A popular point of application for this stenograph technique is my refrigerator which only ever contains beer, yellow Gatorade, hot sauce, and leftover containers -- mostly Tupperware containers pilfered form my parents’ house and Thai food boxes. The labels read either “EAT” or “DO NOT EAT.”

Scenario: I come home from a long night of drinking and need food before passing out; leftovers are in the fridge. I reach for the nearest container and dig straight in. If delicious, I label the container “EAT” and return it to the fridge. If however my first bite of beef panang causes me to throw up in my mouth, I label the container “DO NOT EAT” and return it to the fridge. I know it’s ridiculous that I don’t just throw away the spoiled food items, but that’s not the real flaw in the system. The greater issue is that anything I label as “EAT” will assuredly be mislabeled by the time I come around to it again. Therefore just about everything in my fridge is inedible when I need it. I spend a lot of time vomiting in my kitchen and it’s not the wasted food (or the stomach sickness) that bothers me but rather the process inefficiencies. The current solution theory is that I need to get rid of my fridge.

This is how I ended up trying to buy a bus ticket to nowhere; booze and bad bookkeeping. At some point in the last 24 hours I had drunkenly worked out that a) my job sucked and b) my talents were of better use elsewhere. I work as an invoice clerk, which involves using an old computer with an even older operating system (read: no transferable skills). My only real talent is my aptitude for the guitar and that assessment is based strictly upon the platitudes of family and well-meaning friends. But so be it, so given those two factors I somehow worked out that I could make more money in two days busking on the streets of ____________ than I could in a week at my shitty job. And that was pretty much it. Drunk and encouraged by my drinking buddies I whipped out a Post It and wrote down my plan to catch the next bus to ____________ where I would spend the waking hours playing songs on the street and surely pocketing several hundred dollars from entertained passersby. I knew the best place to do this was, as I recall, either Memphis or Nashville. One of these cities had a long and successful tradition of busking and I made up my mind to go there. So I wrote the my destination down, convinced it was one or the other, and four hours later was at the Trailways station with only my guitar, $132, and a missing piece Post It Note. Where the hell was I was going?

“Sir?”
“Hang on.”

I’m not kidding about that short-term memory thing. For the life of me I can’t recall which city I decided was the one I was to be heading off to. I know that I had told myself I should visit Graceland while I was there, but again, is Graceland in Nashville or Memphis? That I definitely did not write down. There’s an irony to living your life according to rash decisions that you cannot recall only hours later.

“Uh, Nashville. Yeah, that’s gotta be it.”
“Excuse me?”
“Nashville.”
“You want a ticket to Nashville, Tennessee?”
“Um, yeah. Yes. That’s where Graceland is, right?”
“Oh, I love Paul Simon.”
“Me too. One ticket to Nashville please.”

Poll Tax

2006-11-07T07:36:00.000-05:00

Maybe I will vote more often.

My stock argument for not voting is rational abstention; an admittedly ambiguous and near-meaningless term. I often feel unrepresented by the available candidates and as a proponent of limited government living under an enormously bloated State entity, believe that the differences between individuals elected from my district are ultimately a wash when it comes to my day-to-day. This year's Senate race in Virginia has added to my voting malaise where I was presented this morning with a choice between two equally graceless buffoons. What would motivate me to involve myself in a debate where "the lesser of two evils" and "...the devil I know" are apt metaphors? Nothing, so I voted for neither.

Local election are the ones that can have the greatest impact on my life but I live in Arlington County where the issues most often revolve around education and public works. As a childless renter, I don't really have a horse in that race. So I left the bond issues and school superintendent decisions to better motivated and educated voters.

But nonetheless I did go out and vote this morning. I checked one box and one box only. Today I became a One Issue Voter and I felt surprisingly good about it. There is still a little charge that I get from participating in the system -- even if it is flawed -- and wearing my "I Voted In Arlington" sticker today. It was a good morning...I hope my one vote mattered.

Friday 8-Track

2006-11-03T07:19:00.000-05:00

I've been on a power pop kick of late so that should do nicely for today's theme. If I ever got into playing original music again, this is most likely the songwriting vein I would be mining. There is something really exhilirating about this little sub-genre with its strong melodic structures, fun if not even complex harmonies, big hooks, and lots and lots rock guitar.

Cheap Trick - "Surrender" - At Budokan

One of the masters of the "genre," Cheap Trick just plain f'in rocks. "I Want You To Want Me" would be the obvious example but for whatever reason I've gone with "Surrender." One of the cool things about this song is that it is somewhat anti-rebellious, reminding kids that their parents were once young too and probably a lot cooler than they think, "Mommy's alright, daddy's alright, they just seem a little weird. Surrender, surrender, but don't give yourself away." And the live version explodes off of the Budokan album.

Teenage Fanclub - "Star Sign" - Bandwagonesque

I once stood in a half-empty 9:30 Club watching these guys play as if it was 10 years ago and those of us that were there (lots and lots of single dorks milling about by themselves) just ate it up. So, when Kevin Shields (My Bloody Valentine) and Bobby Gillespie (Primal Scream) were each driving Creation label head Alan McGee insanse -- quite literally -- with their long overdue magnum opi, this little pop gem came along to suppress the demons in McGee's head. They should have been one of the most popular bands in the world. Oh well.

Gin Blossoms - "Til I Hear It From You" - Empire Records: The Soundtrack

I think this band was way too unfairly maligned. Their only real sin was being a pop band at a time when everyone thought they hated pop music. They really are a good bunch of songwriters and this song is a strong example of that. I was working at a Blockbuster the summer after I graduated high school (and for several years after) and this video was on a trailer for Empire Records that would play in the store constantly. I miss that job.

Tommy Keene - "Places That Are Gone" - Showtunes

The original EP that this song was first released on in 1984 is pretty tough to find but the live version off of the Showtunes album will suffice. A hometown guy who was supposed to be the Next Big Thing has pretty much been ignored his entire career. Hell, I didn't know who w=he was until he opened up for GBV on their final tour. But man can this guy write and play. He's still cutting albums and his last one, Crashing the Ether, is definitely worth checking out. This song is a good aural definition of power pop.

Fountains of Wayne - "Maureen" - Out-Of-State Plates

Perhaps the current reigning kings of power pop, the Fountains are great. This song would have been the B-side to "Stacey's Mom" but they decided not to release it. This record takes off from start to finish with loud guitars and high harmonies. "I know you think I'm just a friend, but can we please just put on aned, to all the Catholic imagery that you insist on feeding me?"

The Bigger Lovers - "Peel It Away"- This Affair Never Happened...And Here Are Eleven Songs About It

Here's an example of a cool band that just never made it commericially and subsequently disbanded. All I can say is this is a good album, a great song, and I wish I could have found out where they would have gone next.

Velvet Crush - "Drive Me Down" - In the Presence of Greatness

I am sure you find yourself in a lot of pretentious conversations about power pop so this is one of the bands you want to name drop (avoid the obvious Big Star references). Discovered (sort of) by Norman Blake of Teenage Fanclub and featuring as producer and unofficial fourth member a young Matthew Sweet, Velvet Crush is yet another band that should have been really successful but instead wallowed in obscurity. Whatever, the music is great. Which leads us to...

Matthew Sweet - "Where You Get Love" - Blue Sky on Mars

This song kicks ass. When I first heard it I was kind of still hung up Girlfriend and was pleasantly surprised by this pop-y gem. I believe this was the first album after he parted ways (in the studio) with post-punk guitar legends Robert Quine and Richard Lloyd. Not that this means anything other than the fact that I want to seem cool.

...and we're off.

2006-11-02T10:30:00.000-05:00

I couldn't resist. The first sentence is:

Maybe I left it in my other pants.

The Not-So-Great Blogger Challenge

2006-11-02T08:16:00.000-05:00

Via Irish Red's blog, I discovered this interesting challenge. Although intrigued, I am somewhat terrified by the notion of writing a 50,000 word novel in only a month's time. I can barely string two or three cogent thoughts together so the thought of pulling together many chapters of god knows what in such a short period of time is rather daunting.

But I like the idea; the idea of being forcibly creative under the gun. So I have come up with my own writer's challenge open to anyone and everyone. Consider it a cheap amalgamtion of National Novel Writing Month and the Project Greenlight auditions. Later today I will post one sentence. One opening sentence as great as Melville or Dickens could have ever penned, and from there I will write some rambling fictional very-short-story/post. I have no idea what the sentance will be or what I will write about. And there is no pre-determined length that said story needs to be. It will be posted by Tuesday afternoon~ish and I encourage others to try their hand and participate.

I think that one of things that draws people to this medium is that perhaps, as writers, our "skills" are better suited to the essay and short form. Here is our chance to be fictionally creative within our respective wheelhouses. You know, I don't think Dickens had any idea where his stories were going when he wrote them in installments. He just kept spinning his yarns and after 30 or so chapters he had a Great Expectations. Who knows, this could be the first chapter of your own Bleak House. That book made no damn sense to me but I am told -- by people much, much, much smarter than me -- that it is brilliant. So there you go.

Stay tuned...

He did the mash...

2006-10-31T07:09:00.000-05:00

...He did the Monster Mash.

Happy Halloween, kids. For a person with a bah humbug attitude regarding just about every "holiday," Halloween is one that I can still get down with. It was the one night each year where as a kid you were allowed to be out running aorund in the dark and causing trouble. If I had actually thought about it when I was 11, it probably would have upset me to realize that for some odd reason I was essentially given carte blanche to scare little kids and roll houses but had I behaved like that the other 364 days of the year I would have been "on resrtiction." Whatever, childhood and ignorance are bliss and I certainly made the most of it.

I still wish I could participate in some capacity. Yeah there are the Halloween parties and such but they have very little to do with Halloween itself. Those are mostly an excuse for my friends and I to get fucked up and oggle our female friends hopefully costumed as Slutty Fill-In-The-Blank. The only grown-up roles left are those of candy distributors but after a little intelligence gathering, I have learned that no one comes around to our building. I do live in a neighborhood of sorts but I would not be surprised if many of the potential trick-or-treaters living in the co-ops across the street have been made to feel unwelcome in years past. So candy distributing is out. Although, I had actually considered going out to one of the Family-Occupied Territories of North Arlington (the suburban equivalent of Vichey France) to hand out candy but I would probably get arrested.

I am sure I'll come up with something more than just sitting around drinking beer and watching The Great Pumpkin which I recorded on Friday. Halloween is like reverse Social Security. I drew on huge dividends when I was a kid so now I have to contribute in my pseudo-adult life.

Fanboy

2006-10-30T07:15:00.000-05:00

Sometimes when you have a few too many drinks before you even leave the house, things get a little intense. And when you have a few more drinks at your second pre-gaming location well, now it's gonna get interesting. And then, while occupying space at your favorite pre-concert spot, the man behind the band you are about to see walks in for a drink and you send your chair screeching out from under you to go shake his hand and pump him for info about the new album, that's the gravy.

What an incredible show on Saturday night. There's something about the Wrens that elicits this crazy fanboy reaction form their fans. Everyone was once again so thrilled to have them in town they just freak out from the moment they hit the stage until the amp tubes go cold -- myself included. I'm pretty sure that everyone who was a newbie that I talked into coming to the show had a good time. The Wrens are not the easiest band to get into live if you are coming in cold but their passion and the depth of their songwriting talent is always apparent. I am glad that one of my buddies who is also a big fan and has seen them before was fist-pumping and screaming lyrics along with me. I believe I more than mildly disturbed some people who had never seen me in full-on fanboy mode before so at least I was not the only one. Great night.

-- New definition of cathartic --

cathartic: when the biggest moment in your single favorite song arrives, live, and you jump up screaming "Greener grasses fade from where you wind up!!!" and do not come back down for at least an hour.

Friday 8-Track

2006-10-27T07:43:00.000-04:00

OK, I need to put a check on my giddiness. Screw it. Today's 8-Track is honor of Saturday's Wrens show at the Black Cat. Beers at St. Ex followed by rockin' at the Black Cat, I can't think of a better night out. So today's theme is, loosely, indie rock that rocks. Or something. Let's get jiggy.

Built To Spill - "Out of Site" - Perfect From Now On

What a hook. And from out of nowhere, too. Doug is a genius.

Rogue Wave - "You" - Descended Like Vultures

This album is kind of all over the place. I think Zach Rogue sometimes has difficulty sorting out all of his influences but it is nice to hear varied songwriting. This track is one of the best on the album. It has got a overproduced 70's thing going on but it uses a lot of space and a simple theme very well.

Kitchens of Distinction - "Sand On Fire" - Cowboys and Aliens

The first time I heard this song -- thank you Jawn -- I could not have been happier. For an instant, this was everything I wanted to make an electric guitar sound like. A simple blog post could not fairly describe how wonderfully cool this song is. Download it. Know it. Live it. Why can't that outro last forever? [ed. note -- more readily available on the collection Capsule: The Best of KOD 1988-94]

The Hold Steady - "Stuck Between Stations" - Boys and Girls in America

Tad Kubler's riffing may the best sounding thing to happen to The Rawk since Angus plugged in and sold his soul for our salvation. I cannot get enough of this damn album.

Liz Phair - "Never Said" - Exile In Guyville

Liz, what happened? Three good albums (although some only claim one or two) and everything went out the window. Whatever, this is a great song. Simple, straight-up, and a killer hook. The little breakdown in the middle is why hipsters once fantasized about being her love slave -- now they fantasize about making her their dirty, dirty love slave.

Modest Mouse - "Trailer Trash" - Lonesome Crowded West

I love the way this song swells. The first time I heard it I was only half paying attention. It kind of creeps up on you. At one point I just said to myself, "Holy shit this song is good." Plus the end has got some good trashy jamming that sounds like a BTS outtake.

Guided By Voices - "Motor Away" - Alien Lanes

Is Bob Pollard the godfather of indie rock? I won't argue against it. While the intelligentsia may claim that Bee Thousand is the definitive GBV album, contrarian that I am, I prefer Alien Lanes. When Bob decided to shut it down and retire GBV, this song was something of an anthem at those final shows. I did some serious fist-pumping. "You can't lie to yourself that it's the chance of a lifetime!"

The Wrens - "Everyone Chooses Sides" - The Meadowlands

Surprise, surprise, surprise. Come on, you knew it was coming. If I could only write one song. One song that everyone would base their opinion of me -- as a musician -- upon, this would probably be it. I would be hard-pressed to think of another song that so fantastically musically matches its lyrical content point-for-point and rocks like hell. Great story. Great guitar playing. Great band. Is it Saturday night yet?

--Bonus Track--

The National - "Mr. November" - Alligator

A really good show last night. I'm draggin' ass this morning but it was well worth it. I must say that I was very impressed with how well they translated the album from wax to the stage. They are a really tight band and play well off of one another. This is also a band that knows how to utililze dynamic contrast, something sorely lacking in a lot of shit out there today. It makes me want to go home, whip out the DL4, and try and make a little magic. "I won't fuck us over, I'm Mr. November, Mr. Novemeber, I won't fuck us over!"

Nick The Lounge Singer

2006-10-26T07:47:00.000-04:00

In my next life I am going to tour around a bunch of shitty eastern resorts doing lounge versions of my favorite indie rock songs. The old people won't know the difference and I could probably make a killing. Of course that means I will be spending most of my days in places like the Poconos, the Catskills, the Finger Lakes, and Asheville, but what the hell. It beats working for a living.

Nothing makes a man like a rented suit. So obviously this is my getup from this past wedding weekend -- which was fantastic. I hate wearing ties. I loathe them. As soon as the ceremony concluded I ripped off my tie and opend the collar of my shirt. I always complain that the ties I wear (on the rare occasions that I am forced to put one on) are choking me. The last time I was wearing a tux, my parents were at the wedding. Since I love to bitch, and I love bitching to my parents the most, I was complaining to my mom how uncomfortable my tie was. She grabbed my collar and slipped her whole hand between my neck and the collar and said "Jason, you could fit another head in there. Stop making a scene." I love it.

Last Saturday was no exception so as soon as the reception started the tie was off and put away for good. And this did not go unnoticed. I am a professional shit-giver and I love people who like to give shit right back. My buddy's new mother-in-law is a special kind of shit-giver because she doesn't even know she's doing it. I was on the grill most of the weekend and just eating it up. She would give me little quips here and there but one of the best was because of the tie. "Oh, you took your tie off...it looks sharp." And that was that. My cue that I probably should have left it on. Fantastic.

She got me again the next day. Don't invite me into your home because I will make myself at home. Immediately. It's a terrible habit but I will right away open the fridge or the cupboards and just help myself. I can be a very tacky guest. So after inviting myself over to the in-laws home the next day, tired and hungover, I immediately flopped on their huge sectional sofa, grabbed a couple of pillows, spread out, and took a nice nap. Just on the brink of slumber, mother-in-law was heading out on some errands and told me, "Jason, I was going to tell you to make yourself at home but I guess I don't have to." Two of her daughters were lounging as well and almost pissed themselves trying to keep from laughing. I love a shit-giver. It makes me feel at home. And it was a great nap.

Semantics

2006-10-24T21:18:00.000-04:00

If you could only have one of the following attributes, would you rather be smart or clever?

smart [smahrt] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation verb, adjective, -er, -est, adverb, noun
–adjective

7.	quick or prompt in action, as persons.

8.	having or showing quick intelligence or ready mental capability: a smart student.

9.	shrewd or sharp, as a person in dealing with others or as in business dealings: a smart businessman.

10.	clever, witty, or readily effective, as a speaker, speech, rejoinder, etc.

clever [klev-er] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–adjective, -er, -est.

1.	mentally bright; having sharp or quick intelligence; able.

2.	superficially skillful, witty, or original in character or construction; facile: It was an amusing, clever play, but of no lasting value.

3.	showing inventiveness or originality; ingenious: His clever device was the first to solve the problem.

Dictionary.com seems to be of the opinion that the two words are essentially the same but I disagree. Smart often implies sensibility; making the sound decision or taking the right course of action. Mental aptitude is also a component of the definition but I always tend to think of "smart" in terms of processing data. You have to be smart in order to understand topics like Differential Equations and Moral Relativism. It takes smarts to finish your sudoku in less than five minutes. Smart people are often their own bosses. All good things, I concede, but kind of fucking boring.

I prefer clever. Clever is how you get out of doing things you do not want to do. Clever is issuing pencils rather than spending thousands of dollars on the development of a pen that will write in space. Clever is what allows you to make fun of people to their faces without them knowing it. And clever leads to thinking up such postulates as The Michael Seaver Theory.

The Michael Seaver Theory

The theory that public opinion regarding an actor's real life persona directly impacts the marketability of his body of work. To wit, if Kirk Cameron weren't such a douchebag Growing Pains would be much more widely syndicated than his sister's Full House which both time and a really bad Beach Boys video have shown to be the vastly inferior of the two programs.

The Doctor Recommends...

2006-10-24T07:14:00.000-04:00

If all of your friends are telling you how great it is and you want to believe them.

If you think a Les Paul plugged into a Marshall stack is a warm creamy slice of heaven.

If you thought the first two albums were OK but not melodic enough.

If you thought the first two albums were great but you just need more, more, more.

If your definition of "to rock" has grown old and stale.

If you want to be cool.

If you think you're cool but wish to prove it.

If you want people to like you superficially rather than for who you really are.

If you want an excuse to spend $13.99.

If you need another excuse to oggle the girl that works at Olsson's.

If your dog died, boyfriend/girlfriend dumped you, car broke down, cable went out and you are looking for a reason to live.

If you want to knowingly nod your head when you read Jason's Top 10 Albums of '06 post this December.

If the first 30 seconds of the "We're Not Gonna Take It" video sums up everything you want out of life.

If you want to know why you will be at the Black Cat on November 25th.

...then go out right now and pick up The Hold Steady's new album, Boys And Girls In America.

Rock 'n Roll Ain't Easy

2006-10-20T08:06:00.000-04:00

The suburban rockstar lifestyle can be a grind. I am beat after a gig last night and now get to drive 5+ hours to cosmopolitan Youngstown, OH. I hope I can keep awake on the road.

Anyway, the Friday 8-Track is taking a week off so I can get my Griswald on but shall return next week with something juicey -- I'm thinking a pretentious indie rock theme in honor of next Saturday's forthcoming Wrens show. Hallelujah.

Non Sequitur

2006-10-19T07:34:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I think about the most random shit before I fall asleep and topics usually involve recall of weird memories from any point in my life that have absolutely nothing to do with the ending day's events. Perhaps it is my unconscious mind doing a bit of housekeeping. Anyway, last night I was laughing in the dark for a good two minutes because for god know's why I was thinking about one of my favorite movie scenes.

I am a huge fan of comedies, especially the dry, dark, and sardonic variety. But one of my favorite comedy moments is so lame and so juvenile that I cannot believe I still think of it regularly. For whatever reason, I fell asleep last night thinking of The Great Muppet Caper. For you philistines out there unfortunate enough to have never seen this masterpiece, the film obviously stars The Muppets but also Charles Grodin as a suave diamond thief. I know, I do not get the Charles Grodin thing either but apparently he was well-regarded in the 70's and 80's. Anyway, Grodin ends up stealing the famed "Baseball Diamond" and framing Miss Piggy for it. She gets thrown in the clink and the Muppet gang plot to break her out -- or maybe try and steal the diamond back; it has been a while.

So, the Muppets are strategizing how to pull of the eponymous caper and Fozzie is running through a checklist of items for which individuals are reponsible. When he gets to "frisbee," that one is Zoot's reponsibility -- as an aside, Zoot was my original insppiration for playing the saxophone which eventually lead to my current rockstardom. Zoot replies that he doesn't know where the frisbee is. When asked if perhaps it is in his "other pants" he replies in his stoned 50's beat-jive manner, "Man, I don't have any other pants!"

That shit kills me every time.