Tim's probably right. I mean, what female Bichon could resist?
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Leave the Novelist in His Daydream Tune
"I Must Belong Somewhere," Bright Eyes
This year, I'm lucky enough to be making the somewhat treacherous trek to Indio, California during the third weekend in April, to participate in that great migration otherwise known as Coachella. My excitement is immeasurable--for the last month, other than the occasional new album preview (i.e. The Decemberists, Unwritten Law, and Lupe Fiasco) or a Katy Perry single, I've been listening to nothing other than the featured artists of that highly anticipated weekend; most notably: Arcade Fire, Kanye West, Cold War Kids, Brandon Flowers, Jimmy Eat World, Bright Eyes, Mumford and Sons, Kings of Leon, The Black Keys, and one of my new potential favorites, Foster the People. In The Great Gatsby, Fitzgerald discusses the "colossal vitality...of illusion." He mentions the danger in "[throwing oneself] into [an expectation] with a creative passion, adding to it all the time, decking it out with every bright feather that [drifts its] way." According to Fitzgerald, "no amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart." In essence: As humans, we tend to romanticize our intended future efforts and events until they simply can't meet the expectations we've created. With Coachella, however, I disagree...for one, since I've never been, my expectations are chaotic and uncertain. Two, I simply can't fathom a disappointing music festival with these bands (and the friends I get to share the weekend with!)
This year, I'm lucky enough to be making the somewhat treacherous trek to Indio, California during the third weekend in April, to participate in that great migration otherwise known as Coachella. My excitement is immeasurable--for the last month, other than the occasional new album preview (i.e. The Decemberists, Unwritten Law, and Lupe Fiasco) or a Katy Perry single, I've been listening to nothing other than the featured artists of that highly anticipated weekend; most notably: Arcade Fire, Kanye West, Cold War Kids, Brandon Flowers, Jimmy Eat World, Bright Eyes, Mumford and Sons, Kings of Leon, The Black Keys, and one of my new potential favorites, Foster the People. In The Great Gatsby, Fitzgerald discusses the "colossal vitality...of illusion." He mentions the danger in "[throwing oneself] into [an expectation] with a creative passion, adding to it all the time, decking it out with every bright feather that [drifts its] way." According to Fitzgerald, "no amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart." In essence: As humans, we tend to romanticize our intended future efforts and events until they simply can't meet the expectations we've created. With Coachella, however, I disagree...for one, since I've never been, my expectations are chaotic and uncertain. Two, I simply can't fathom a disappointing music festival with these bands (and the friends I get to share the weekend with!)
In discovering new bands through Coachella's setlist and re-discovering old favorites through iPod shuffling, I came upon Jimmy Eat World's "Goodbye Sky Harbor." The final lyrics read:
So here I am above palm trees so straight and tall.
You are smaller, getting smaller.
But I still see you.
When I heard these lines just yesterday, I froze. I rewound the song; listened to the final words again. Googled the lyrics and researched the source of inspiration. Sure enough, the song was inspired by one of John Irving's most impressive works of all-time (and my personal favorite), A Prayer for Owen Meany. The book that, perhaps above all others, made me genuinely attracted to the idea of writing as a profession. Irving's words seeped under my skin and etched themselves into the memory of my hibernated, self-conscious, and confused 17-year-old self. Of course, up until that point in my life I had read a good number of books I counted as "treasures;" small splices of words and paragraphs that came together in harmony and message. I've always loved reading, and I so vividly remember the first real book that had a genuinely lasting effect on me. I was in fourth grade, and Mrs. Callanan was in the process of reading Where the Red Fern Grows aloud to the class. Ever-intrigued by the adventures of Billy and his noble canine friends, I read ahead and finished the book on my own. I distinctly recall the tears streaming down my face as my blurred eyes read over the final page three times. I remember my mom finding me curled on my bed, desperately trying to hide the fact that a book had made me cry. I remember proudly calling that book my favorite for years, and to this day it certainly still ranks as one of the most life-changing books I've ever read. I'll forever love the heartbreaking mix of despair and awe that inevitably arises every time I'm turning the last page of an incredible book. By the time I was in high school, I had had the experience with a handful of novels-- Bridge to Terabithia, A Wrinkle in Time, The Phantom Tollbooth, The Thief of Always, and To Kill A Mockingbird, to name the ones at the top of the list. Today, I've read dozens of books I consider "favorites," and there are too many to count existing on my list of "to-reads." However, I don't believe any book has had the effect on me that Irving's Owen Meany did ten years ago. And honestly, discovering a point at which my favorite book and one of my favorite bands intertwined on their own accord (and not through a clumsy and inaccurate connection forced by me) was one of those rare and perfect moments of cohesive illumination and energy.
Friday, I'm finishing Adventures of Huckleberry Finn with my AP English class. It turns out this book wasn't in my own high school curriculum. It also turns out I never was asked or required to read this book in college, even though the words "American Literature and Culture Major" grin sheepishly from my diploma-- (and as a sidenote, is there really any novel out there that, according to the "experts" who "know," encompasses "American literature and culture" more than Huck Finn?) In any case, it also turns out I don't like this book. And the frustrating thing? I want to like it. I want to like it just like I want to like dim sum, Inception, and Coldplay. According to knowledgable and witty people, Twain's use of satire is unparalleled as hemakes grandiose suggestions and social commentaries on mocks human nature. Funnily enough, I'm a big Twain fan-- I love his short stories, think he's hilarious as a person, and have laughed out loud at some of his outrageously accurate and hilarious quotes. And true, this is a great time to teach Huck Finn, as some idiots individuals have chosen to publish censored versions of the novel this year. And yes, I understand the AP test will most likely mention satire, or Twain, or dialect, and all of these are certainly present and relevant in Jim and Huck's arduous and challenge-filled trek down the mighty Mississippi. I understand Twain was a brilliant writer ahead of his time, and I absolutely appreciate Huck Finn for the monumentally daring piece that it was when published. However, it's just not one of those books that makes my heart flutter and my eyes well when I turn the final page-- I'd rather "light out for the Territory ahead" myself.
Friday, I'm finishing Adventures of Huckleberry Finn with my AP English class. It turns out this book wasn't in my own high school curriculum. It also turns out I never was asked or required to read this book in college, even though the words "American Literature and Culture Major" grin sheepishly from my diploma-- (and as a sidenote, is there really any novel out there that, according to the "experts" who "know," encompasses "American literature and culture" more than Huck Finn?) In any case, it also turns out I don't like this book. And the frustrating thing? I want to like it. I want to like it just like I want to like dim sum, Inception, and Coldplay. According to knowledgable and witty people, Twain's use of satire is unparalleled as he
Monday, January 10, 2011
You Only Live Once
The Strokes
One of the best perks of my job is that every year, no matter how many times I teach the same course or grade level, I'm exposed to new material and new insights. For example, this year I'll be teaching Gatsby to my 14th group of 11th-graders, and I'll undoubtedly come across some new gift of Fitzgerald-brilliance I hadn't ever noticed before. While it's exhausting to continually change my syllabus--warranting the creation of at least two new units per year-- I also get to read some of the best books, short stories, and poems in the world. For my job.
I just spent the last half hour reading excerpts from Thoreau's Walden, the inspiring account of the author's two years and two months living in a shack on Walden Pond in Massachusetts. While I've always been a big Thoreau fan, I've been more partial to Emerson for the last ten years of my life, choosing his quotes for e-mail send-offs and wedding cards over any other American transcendentalist's. However, some of the lines from Walden just knocked me off my feet and gave me one of those complete renewals of the human spirit and the vast possibilities readily available to any individual willing to move beyond Safe, Efficient, and Expected. I know my words would never even begin to do Thoreau's justice, so I'll let his wisdom and first-hand experience do the talking...
"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."
"I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life..."
"Our life is frittered away by details."
"Why should we live with such hurry and waste of life? We are determined to be starved before we are hungry."
"The surface of the earth is soft and impressible by the feet of men; and so with the paths which the mind travels. How worn and dusty, then, must be the highways of the world, how deep the ruts of tradition and conformity!"
"...if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours."
"If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them..."
"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away."
"However mean your life is, meet it and live it; do not shun it and call it hard names. It is not so bad as you are. It looks poorest when you are richest. The fault-finder will find faults even in paradise."
I do my best to appreciate this life and do things that scare me, but as everyone knows, it's more difficult in practice than it is on paper. It's hard to go against society's expectations; to risk being judged and looking foolish. Thoreau said: "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation," and I don't doubt that. So many people spend their days caught in a web of worry and mistrust; uncertainty and envy. I see the people I quietly observe, in awe and respect, in this life: The ones who speak their minds even if the response isn't desirable. The ones who work hard--patiently, diligently-- for something they care about, even though the reward and recognition is non-existent. The ones who adopt older animals from the humane society. The ones who fight, every day, for the rights of people and things that matter. The ones who go to restaurants alone because the food's supposed to be good. The ones who travel to unknown places, even if they don't have the money to afford it and they don't quite know where they'll stay when they get there. The ones who swim out, by themselves--at dusk!--because the sunset's just better at the buoy line. The ones who don't worry--better yet, don't care--about the newest designer jeans or the most expensive jewelry. The ones who take the road less traveled not because they're loud, proclaimed "NON-CONFORMISTS!" and they're actively resisting social norms, but because they have an earnest desire to observe and experience where it leads. The ones who, above all else, put the voices of their hearts above the opinions and recommendations of others--which is, in my mind, one of the bravest and most important, yet also the most difficult, things we can do as individuals.
So here's to 2011. To Henry David Thoreau. Individuality. A complete and utter avoidance of a life full of "quiet desperation."
Onward and upward...
One of the best perks of my job is that every year, no matter how many times I teach the same course or grade level, I'm exposed to new material and new insights. For example, this year I'll be teaching Gatsby to my 14th group of 11th-graders, and I'll undoubtedly come across some new gift of Fitzgerald-brilliance I hadn't ever noticed before. While it's exhausting to continually change my syllabus--warranting the creation of at least two new units per year-- I also get to read some of the best books, short stories, and poems in the world. For my job.
I just spent the last half hour reading excerpts from Thoreau's Walden, the inspiring account of the author's two years and two months living in a shack on Walden Pond in Massachusetts. While I've always been a big Thoreau fan, I've been more partial to Emerson for the last ten years of my life, choosing his quotes for e-mail send-offs and wedding cards over any other American transcendentalist's. However, some of the lines from Walden just knocked me off my feet and gave me one of those complete renewals of the human spirit and the vast possibilities readily available to any individual willing to move beyond Safe, Efficient, and Expected. I know my words would never even begin to do Thoreau's justice, so I'll let his wisdom and first-hand experience do the talking...
"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."
"I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life..."
"Our life is frittered away by details."
"Why should we live with such hurry and waste of life? We are determined to be starved before we are hungry."
"The surface of the earth is soft and impressible by the feet of men; and so with the paths which the mind travels. How worn and dusty, then, must be the highways of the world, how deep the ruts of tradition and conformity!"
"...if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours."
"If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them..."
"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away."
"However mean your life is, meet it and live it; do not shun it and call it hard names. It is not so bad as you are. It looks poorest when you are richest. The fault-finder will find faults even in paradise."
I do my best to appreciate this life and do things that scare me, but as everyone knows, it's more difficult in practice than it is on paper. It's hard to go against society's expectations; to risk being judged and looking foolish. Thoreau said: "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation," and I don't doubt that. So many people spend their days caught in a web of worry and mistrust; uncertainty and envy. I see the people I quietly observe, in awe and respect, in this life: The ones who speak their minds even if the response isn't desirable. The ones who work hard--patiently, diligently-- for something they care about, even though the reward and recognition is non-existent. The ones who adopt older animals from the humane society. The ones who fight, every day, for the rights of people and things that matter. The ones who go to restaurants alone because the food's supposed to be good. The ones who travel to unknown places, even if they don't have the money to afford it and they don't quite know where they'll stay when they get there. The ones who swim out, by themselves--at dusk!--because the sunset's just better at the buoy line. The ones who don't worry--better yet, don't care--about the newest designer jeans or the most expensive jewelry. The ones who take the road less traveled not because they're loud, proclaimed "NON-CONFORMISTS!" and they're actively resisting social norms, but because they have an earnest desire to observe and experience where it leads. The ones who, above all else, put the voices of their hearts above the opinions and recommendations of others--which is, in my mind, one of the bravest and most important, yet also the most difficult, things we can do as individuals.
So here's to 2011. To Henry David Thoreau. Individuality. A complete and utter avoidance of a life full of "quiet desperation."
Onward and upward...
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Here Comes the Music
"Rodeo Clowns," Jack Johnson
2010 was a good year for music. Then again, I don't know I'm the best judge...my musical tastes seems to vary drastically-- day to day, month to month-- and I certainly wasn't genetically blessed with my brother's ear for music (or his instrumental talent, for that matter). However, over the last 12 months, I've gathered an impressively diverse array of new music for my collection. I'll readily admit many of these are single songs from certain CDs (thanks to a recommendation or a top-40 hit I Shazam-ed [new verb, Webster] from the radio), but there are a few full albums I eagerly purchased and which remain on constant rotation in my headphones, in the car, or on the laptop. In no particular order, my ten favorite albums of 2010:
1. Arcade Fire: The Suburbs
Favorite Songs: "The Suburbs" and "Sprawl II"
Most All of the big music magazines, reviewers, record companies, etc. have deemed this CD one of the best of the year. They aren't wrong. I've never been an Arcade Fire fan until this year...not because I wasn't impressed by their music, but just because I wasn't aware of them. I'm a sucker for albums that thread a theme throughout the songs and lyrics, and this one certainly does: While a Pitchfork review claims "the bulk of The Suburbs focuses on the quiet desperation borne of compounding the pain of wasting your time as an adult by romanticizing the wasted time of your youth," there's also a subtle hopefulness and nostalgia for suburban roots within the words. Arcade Fire sound a little bit like The Strokes, but there are also moments of Bowie-esque pitch. They've been the most consistently mentioned band in the headliners-of-Coachella rumor-mill. Fingers. Crossed.
2. Passion Pit: Manners
Favorite Song: "Moth's Wings"
There's a line in this album's second song, "Little Secrets," that begs the question: "Have you ever felt so god damn strong?" While I'm 95% sure it's a reference to being on illicit drugs, the listener nevertheless has to hold back a triumphant answer. The "Biography" section of Amazon.com gives the following explanation of the CD: "Redemption. Paranoia. Guilt. And brief glimpses of a better tomorrow, all cloaked in pop hooks that truly help the medicine go down." Because I don't know how to accurately describe musical rhythms, beats, and the aforementioned "hooks," I'll say that's about right. The lyrics and sounds are different, bizarre, and take at least a second listen to appreciate--for me, at least. However, once I'd listened to this album all the way through a few times, the catchy beats are almost impossible not to like.
3. Jimmy Eat World: Invented
Favorite Songs: "Movielike"and "Invented"
I will always have a soft spot in my heart for Jimmy Eat World. Their 2001 album, Bleed American, helped get me through college, and I ended up having to replace the disc due to overuse. I was 22 years old when Futures was released, and the poignancy of the album's final song struck a chord in me like few songs ever had: "Amazing still it seems/ I'll be 23/ I won't always love what I'll never have/ I won't always live in my regrets...I'm here I'm now I'm ready/ Holding on tight/ Don't give away the end/ The one thing that stays mine." In the list of my top 50 favorite songs of all-time, Jimmy Eat World holds at least two spots ("Catch this Light"? Captivating). That being said, I don't think Invented is their best album. Don't get me wrong; it's beautiful, catchy, mellow but not weak...in fact, there are quite a few songs here that sound (almost too) reminiscent of their previous work, just...not as good. However, it's still a solid album from one of (what I believe to be) the best bands out there right now, one whose staying power has not only lasted for over a decade, but will continue to. This CD may be "nothing movie-like; nothing magic," but that doesn't mean it isn't excellent.
4. Eminem: Recovery
Favorite Songs: "Space Bound" and "25 to Life"
This album received, at best, only mediocre reviews; in fact, most critics deemed it muddled and too-familiar, pompous and underwhelming. According to Rolling Stone, this disc's songs "hearken back to [Eminem's] freewheeling early records — rhymes as goofy and imaginative as they are violent and profane." I don't listen to every song when I play it...to be completely honest, probably only half. Yet, those "chosen" pieces, at least to me, are honest, intelligent, and brave; confessions from a drug-addled and highly-criticized lyrical talent. In "No Love," Eminem boasts he's "'bout to spit the greatest verse of all time," claiming he'll "set fire to the mic and ignite the crowd"...overstatement? Absolutely. However, with the exception of Kanye and Jay-Z, I can't think of another modern rapper able to create an album both as controversial or as brutally candid.
5. Ray LaMontagne and the Pariah Dogs: God Willin' & the Creek Don't Rise
Favorite Song: "For the Summer"
What Eminem does for angst-ridden teenagers and bitter, mad-at-the-world audiences Ray LaMontagne does for the mellow members of the Thursday Night Wine Club. This CD is overflowing with rich, summer-evening-porch music, perfect for watching that "big yellow moon risin' up over them old hills." Not surprisingly (given LaMontagne's montrous and James Taylor-worthy talent), listening to this disc varies only slightly from hearing LaMontagne and his talented ensemble serenade live, which I was lucky enough to experience in September. While I hesitate to say so, just because it sounds so cheap and belittling, God Willin' & the Creek Don't Rise is perfect "background music" for dinner parties or lounging beach days; easy to absorb and appreciate.
6. The Dirty Heads: Any Port in a Storm
Favorite Song: "Believe"
I listened to a lot of reggae--namely Rebelution, SOJA, and these guys--this year, but apparently I'm behind the times, since a lot of it wasn't released in 2010. I almost didn't include this CD. I actually had The Black Keys' Brothers here first, which is absolutely and irrevocably a more powerful and impressive musical accomplishment. However, while The Black Keys are certainly a more expected (dignified? correct?) choice, I feel like I'd be doing The Dirty Heads (and, by association, my entire summer) a disservice if I didn't mention this album. I spent a good deal of my June-August blasting this disc; a reggae-infused CD that sounds a lot like a vibrant fusing of Pepper and Slightly Stoopid. They toured with Sublime with Rome and Cage the Elephant over the summer, and it's one of the few shows I was genuinely sad to miss. They also do a pretty killer acoustic version of Coldplay's "Viva La Vida." "Six damn strings [almost] never sounded so appealing."
7. Broken Bells: Broken Bells
Favorite Songs: "The High Road" and "The Ghost Inside"
I remember being really excited when I heard The Shins' James Mercer was coming out with a side project, and I remember being even more excited when I found out the co-contributor was Danger Mouse-- while I like Gnarls Barkley, Danger Mouse is a musical genius in my mind due to his work with and for Gorillaz. While this disc lacks Damon Albarn's pure talent (which may or may not be of my own mind's making) and the pulse-heavy beats of Gorillaz, it's one I can put on from start to finish without skipping a song. The lyrics are poetic but not sappy: "Remember what they say/ There's no shortcut to a dream/ It's all blood and sweat/ And life is what you manage in between." Brilliance.
8. LCD Soundsystem: This is Happening
Favorite Song: "Dance Yrself Clean"
It kills me that it took me until this month to discover this CD. According to LCD Soundsystem, "There's lights and sounds and stories/ Music's just a part." True, but it's a big part, and This is Happening should be proud to join the ranks of some of the most memorable and risk-taking modern music makers. I'm not usually a fan of techno/electronic type music, and this is probably the closet I've come to embracing the genre. In my mind, the songs on this CD are a little too long and contain too many open spaces of dance beats and blank verse, but that could very well be because I'm not used to listening to much lyric-free music. LCD Soundsystem sounds a little like Daft Punk (which is ironic--or perhaps purposeful--seeing as how "Daft Punk is Playing at My House" is the title of one of their previous songs), however this disc seems less like the TRON soundtrack and more like an appropriate homage to David Bowie.
9. Gorillaz: Plastic Beach
Favorite Songs: "On Melancholy Hill" and "Superfast Jellyfish"
Pure. Genius. Arguably the most notable CD of 2010. I realize that might be a little dramatic or pretentious, but I'm fascinated by the entire arrangement and force of even the concept behind the world's first animated band. The not-so-subtle message behind this album (America is not disposable, folks) is well-dressed in calculated but not patronizing lyrics, and the frontman, Damon Albarn, just can't seem to make a musical misstep. Plus, impressive collaborations with nearly a dozen other artists (i.e. De La Soul, Snoop Dogg, Little Dragon) provide for a brilliantly executed musical canvas--not only does Albarn utilize his own musical talents, he also knows when to step back and allow his "cast" to shine. I saw them live in October, and don't plan on missing a tour of theirs again. Ever. Buy this CD.
10. Kanye West: My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy
Favorite Songs: "All of the Lights," "Runaway," and "See Me Now"
I don't like Kanye West: The Person. Granted, I've never actually met the guy, but the persona put forth to the media seems highly-arrogant, selfish, annoyingly flashy, and entitled-- (from his own mouth: "[I'm] young, rich, and tasteless"). Kanye West: The Artist, however, is a different story. Whether I think his diamond teeth and twitter over-shares are obnoxious and unnecessary or not, this adept rapper has a way with words and harmonies. According to Paste Magazine, West's 5th studio release is "perhaps this century’s definitive portrait of torment, vanity, self-delusion, and pathos." The title of this disc is pretty self-explanatory: Dark? Yes. Twisted? Definitely. Beautiful? Absolutely. The rhymes are catchy and truthful, the beats are memorable and varied, and the collaborators are highly skilled (Kid Cudi, Jay-Z, Beyonce, Elton John, Bon Iver, John Legend, Swizz Beatz...the list goes on). Like it's creator, there are certainly times this CD feels self-centered and boisterous, but I can't deny it's a masterpiece.
And the winner for most anticipated album of 2011...Unwritten Law: Swan.
Disclaimer: This album won't win any awards. The members of Unwritten Law won't be invited to the Grammys, let alone be asked to perform there. And while their previous CDs have contained (some) impressively dark and meaningful lyrics, the leaked mp3s I've heard from Swan seem relatively tame and--dare I say it--"mainstream." But it doesn't matter. I'll follow this band to the ends of the earth and back. Cheers to the next effort...
2010 was a good year for music. Then again, I don't know I'm the best judge...my musical tastes seems to vary drastically-- day to day, month to month-- and I certainly wasn't genetically blessed with my brother's ear for music (or his instrumental talent, for that matter). However, over the last 12 months, I've gathered an impressively diverse array of new music for my collection. I'll readily admit many of these are single songs from certain CDs (thanks to a recommendation or a top-40 hit I Shazam-ed [new verb, Webster] from the radio), but there are a few full albums I eagerly purchased and which remain on constant rotation in my headphones, in the car, or on the laptop. In no particular order, my ten favorite albums of 2010:
1. Arcade Fire: The Suburbs
Favorite Songs: "The Suburbs" and "Sprawl II"
2. Passion Pit: Manners
Favorite Song: "Moth's Wings"
There's a line in this album's second song, "Little Secrets," that begs the question: "Have you ever felt so god damn strong?" While I'm 95% sure it's a reference to being on illicit drugs, the listener nevertheless has to hold back a triumphant answer. The "Biography" section of Amazon.com gives the following explanation of the CD: "Redemption. Paranoia. Guilt. And brief glimpses of a better tomorrow, all cloaked in pop hooks that truly help the medicine go down." Because I don't know how to accurately describe musical rhythms, beats, and the aforementioned "hooks," I'll say that's about right. The lyrics and sounds are different, bizarre, and take at least a second listen to appreciate--for me, at least. However, once I'd listened to this album all the way through a few times, the catchy beats are almost impossible not to like.
3. Jimmy Eat World: Invented
Favorite Songs: "Movielike"and "Invented"
I will always have a soft spot in my heart for Jimmy Eat World. Their 2001 album, Bleed American, helped get me through college, and I ended up having to replace the disc due to overuse. I was 22 years old when Futures was released, and the poignancy of the album's final song struck a chord in me like few songs ever had: "Amazing still it seems/ I'll be 23/ I won't always love what I'll never have/ I won't always live in my regrets...I'm here I'm now I'm ready/ Holding on tight/ Don't give away the end/ The one thing that stays mine." In the list of my top 50 favorite songs of all-time, Jimmy Eat World holds at least two spots ("Catch this Light"? Captivating). That being said, I don't think Invented is their best album. Don't get me wrong; it's beautiful, catchy, mellow but not weak...in fact, there are quite a few songs here that sound (almost too) reminiscent of their previous work, just...not as good. However, it's still a solid album from one of (what I believe to be) the best bands out there right now, one whose staying power has not only lasted for over a decade, but will continue to. This CD may be "nothing movie-like; nothing magic," but that doesn't mean it isn't excellent.
4. Eminem: Recovery
Favorite Songs: "Space Bound" and "25 to Life"
This album received, at best, only mediocre reviews; in fact, most critics deemed it muddled and too-familiar, pompous and underwhelming. According to Rolling Stone, this disc's songs "hearken back to [Eminem's] freewheeling early records — rhymes as goofy and imaginative as they are violent and profane." I don't listen to every song when I play it...to be completely honest, probably only half. Yet, those "chosen" pieces, at least to me, are honest, intelligent, and brave; confessions from a drug-addled and highly-criticized lyrical talent. In "No Love," Eminem boasts he's "'bout to spit the greatest verse of all time," claiming he'll "set fire to the mic and ignite the crowd"...overstatement? Absolutely. However, with the exception of Kanye and Jay-Z, I can't think of another modern rapper able to create an album both as controversial or as brutally candid.
5. Ray LaMontagne and the Pariah Dogs: God Willin' & the Creek Don't Rise
Favorite Song: "For the Summer"
What Eminem does for angst-ridden teenagers and bitter, mad-at-the-world audiences Ray LaMontagne does for the mellow members of the Thursday Night Wine Club. This CD is overflowing with rich, summer-evening-porch music, perfect for watching that "big yellow moon risin' up over them old hills." Not surprisingly (given LaMontagne's montrous and James Taylor-worthy talent), listening to this disc varies only slightly from hearing LaMontagne and his talented ensemble serenade live, which I was lucky enough to experience in September. While I hesitate to say so, just because it sounds so cheap and belittling, God Willin' & the Creek Don't Rise is perfect "background music" for dinner parties or lounging beach days; easy to absorb and appreciate.
6. The Dirty Heads: Any Port in a Storm
Favorite Song: "Believe"
I listened to a lot of reggae--namely Rebelution, SOJA, and these guys--this year, but apparently I'm behind the times, since a lot of it wasn't released in 2010. I almost didn't include this CD. I actually had The Black Keys' Brothers here first, which is absolutely and irrevocably a more powerful and impressive musical accomplishment. However, while The Black Keys are certainly a more expected (dignified? correct?) choice, I feel like I'd be doing The Dirty Heads (and, by association, my entire summer) a disservice if I didn't mention this album. I spent a good deal of my June-August blasting this disc; a reggae-infused CD that sounds a lot like a vibrant fusing of Pepper and Slightly Stoopid. They toured with Sublime with Rome and Cage the Elephant over the summer, and it's one of the few shows I was genuinely sad to miss. They also do a pretty killer acoustic version of Coldplay's "Viva La Vida." "Six damn strings [almost] never sounded so appealing."
7. Broken Bells: Broken Bells
Favorite Songs: "The High Road" and "The Ghost Inside"
I remember being really excited when I heard The Shins' James Mercer was coming out with a side project, and I remember being even more excited when I found out the co-contributor was Danger Mouse-- while I like Gnarls Barkley, Danger Mouse is a musical genius in my mind due to his work with and for Gorillaz. While this disc lacks Damon Albarn's pure talent (which may or may not be of my own mind's making) and the pulse-heavy beats of Gorillaz, it's one I can put on from start to finish without skipping a song. The lyrics are poetic but not sappy: "Remember what they say/ There's no shortcut to a dream/ It's all blood and sweat/ And life is what you manage in between." Brilliance.
8. LCD Soundsystem: This is Happening
Favorite Song: "Dance Yrself Clean"
It kills me that it took me until this month to discover this CD. According to LCD Soundsystem, "There's lights and sounds and stories/ Music's just a part." True, but it's a big part, and This is Happening should be proud to join the ranks of some of the most memorable and risk-taking modern music makers. I'm not usually a fan of techno/electronic type music, and this is probably the closet I've come to embracing the genre. In my mind, the songs on this CD are a little too long and contain too many open spaces of dance beats and blank verse, but that could very well be because I'm not used to listening to much lyric-free music. LCD Soundsystem sounds a little like Daft Punk (which is ironic--or perhaps purposeful--seeing as how "Daft Punk is Playing at My House" is the title of one of their previous songs), however this disc seems less like the TRON soundtrack and more like an appropriate homage to David Bowie.
9. Gorillaz: Plastic Beach
Favorite Songs: "On Melancholy Hill" and "Superfast Jellyfish"
Pure. Genius. Arguably the most notable CD of 2010. I realize that might be a little dramatic or pretentious, but I'm fascinated by the entire arrangement and force of even the concept behind the world's first animated band. The not-so-subtle message behind this album (America is not disposable, folks) is well-dressed in calculated but not patronizing lyrics, and the frontman, Damon Albarn, just can't seem to make a musical misstep. Plus, impressive collaborations with nearly a dozen other artists (i.e. De La Soul, Snoop Dogg, Little Dragon) provide for a brilliantly executed musical canvas--not only does Albarn utilize his own musical talents, he also knows when to step back and allow his "cast" to shine. I saw them live in October, and don't plan on missing a tour of theirs again. Ever. Buy this CD.
10. Kanye West: My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy
Favorite Songs: "All of the Lights," "Runaway," and "See Me Now"
I don't like Kanye West: The Person. Granted, I've never actually met the guy, but the persona put forth to the media seems highly-arrogant, selfish, annoyingly flashy, and entitled-- (from his own mouth: "[I'm] young, rich, and tasteless"). Kanye West: The Artist, however, is a different story. Whether I think his diamond teeth and twitter over-shares are obnoxious and unnecessary or not, this adept rapper has a way with words and harmonies. According to Paste Magazine, West's 5th studio release is "perhaps this century’s definitive portrait of torment, vanity, self-delusion, and pathos." The title of this disc is pretty self-explanatory: Dark? Yes. Twisted? Definitely. Beautiful? Absolutely. The rhymes are catchy and truthful, the beats are memorable and varied, and the collaborators are highly skilled (Kid Cudi, Jay-Z, Beyonce, Elton John, Bon Iver, John Legend, Swizz Beatz...the list goes on). Like it's creator, there are certainly times this CD feels self-centered and boisterous, but I can't deny it's a masterpiece.
* * * *
And the winner for most anticipated album of 2011...Unwritten Law: Swan.
Disclaimer: This album won't win any awards. The members of Unwritten Law won't be invited to the Grammys, let alone be asked to perform there. And while their previous CDs have contained (some) impressively dark and meaningful lyrics, the leaked mp3s I've heard from Swan seem relatively tame and--dare I say it--"mainstream." But it doesn't matter. I'll follow this band to the ends of the earth and back. Cheers to the next effort...
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Some Times I Wouldn't Change for the World
"Swing Life Away," Rise Against
Things I should be doing:
* Grading hundreds (literally) of papers
* Returning phone calls
* Laundry
* Re-reading the last four chapters of The Scarlet Letter and planning the end of the unit
* Cleaning out my car
Things I am doing:
* About to start my third Stella of the day
* Sharing new music with my brother
* Admiring my dad's three beautiful horses
* Listening to my husband butcher "Like a G6"
* Deciding which sides go best with tri-tip
It's so perfect.
Things I should be doing:
* Grading hundreds (literally) of papers
* Returning phone calls
* Laundry
* Re-reading the last four chapters of The Scarlet Letter and planning the end of the unit
* Cleaning out my car
Things I am doing:
* About to start my third Stella of the day
* Sharing new music with my brother
* Admiring my dad's three beautiful horses
* Listening to my husband butcher "Like a G6"
* Deciding which sides go best with tri-tip
It's so perfect.
Vaya Con Dios...
Saturday, November 13, 2010
You Look Like You've Seen a Ghost
"Sometime Around Midnight," The Airborne Toxic Event
I've always liked Halloween: The decorations, the candy, the scary movies. Growing up, my family always embraced the holiday. It was more than the fake cobwebs on the front patio gate or the trick-or-treating. Most years, my parents both dressed up. Most years, my mom made my costume weeks before, spending hours covered in superglue and diligently working over a sewing machine. Most years, my brother and I recruited our neighborhood friends to construct an elaborate haunted house, meticulously weaving our "victims" through the spookified backyard in a decorated coffin-esque dolly.
This year, Tim made a surprise trip to San Diego. Ill-timed costumes aside, we had an amazing night.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Two Chairs, One Empty in the Corner
"Two Cups of Coffee," Josh Kelley
Living apartis more difficult than I initially anticipated is really hard sucks.
You're a falling star, You're the get-away car.
You're the line in the sand when I go too far.
You're the swimming pool, on an August day.
And You're the perfect thing to say.
The days are vibrant and scurrying-beetle-busy. The nights go by too fast and the phone isn't enough. To hear the inflection and the tone in a voice is one ladder rung better than an e-mail or a text, but there isn't a voice beautiful or powerful enough in the world to compare with the physical contact and affection of a simple hug. I miss him and I know it. Some days I don't know how to get those words out in the way I want to, and instead it comes out in frustrated and unwarranted anger.
You're a carousel, you're a wishing well,
And you light me up, when you ring my bell.
You're a mystery, you're from outer space,
You're every minute of my everyday.
We fight because it's late and we're exhausted and we have to get up in a few hours. He's not here and I'm not there and I can't talk for long because I have at least two more hours of work before I go to bed. And the power's out and Bailey needs more Advantage and the laundry needs to be done and can we really afford that this month? And then, we spend too many hours not talking, allowing our stubborn natures to entangle like a disease, infecting the already too little space we do have to talk and laugh and share. Because it's more important to be right and to win then it is to apologize and retract. Or so it seems, then.
Whatever comes our way, ah we'll see it through,
And you know that's what our love can do.
Sometimes we say things we don't mean and it hurts and I wonder if the effects run deeper--longer-- than any visible scars. Because the truth is, there aren't instructions for living 300 miles away from your best friend and husband. There isn't a guidebook or a script or a magic band-aid that takes away the confusion and the loneliness. Not that I'd want it necessarily if there was-- life's intricate mystery and beauty is often masked and indecipherable before the lesson or the "product" is revealed. But until then, this metaphorical ocean will inevitably be full of both calm and high seas. And truth be told, I haven't navigated these particular waves before. Some days, then, the tranquility must come from what we know and where we've been rather than where we currently are.
And in this crazy life, and through these crazy times
It's you, it's you, You make me sing
You're every line, you're every word, you're everything.
They say strong ships always come back to safe harbor. The weathered vessels-- the ones full of creaks, rust, torn masts, barnacles-- are perhaps the most powerful, as their strength has been tested and proven amidst even the harshest stretch of sea. It makes sense relationships would follow the relatively same logic, and while the figurative passages without land in sight are isolated and scary, the end reward is so rich and sweet and gratifying...
You're every song, and I sing along.
'Cause you're my everything.
Living apart
You're a falling star, You're the get-away car.
You're the line in the sand when I go too far.
You're the swimming pool, on an August day.
And You're the perfect thing to say.
The days are vibrant and scurrying-beetle-busy. The nights go by too fast and the phone isn't enough. To hear the inflection and the tone in a voice is one ladder rung better than an e-mail or a text, but there isn't a voice beautiful or powerful enough in the world to compare with the physical contact and affection of a simple hug. I miss him and I know it. Some days I don't know how to get those words out in the way I want to, and instead it comes out in frustrated and unwarranted anger.
You're a carousel, you're a wishing well,
And you light me up, when you ring my bell.
You're a mystery, you're from outer space,
You're every minute of my everyday.
We fight because it's late and we're exhausted and we have to get up in a few hours. He's not here and I'm not there and I can't talk for long because I have at least two more hours of work before I go to bed. And the power's out and Bailey needs more Advantage and the laundry needs to be done and can we really afford that this month? And then, we spend too many hours not talking, allowing our stubborn natures to entangle like a disease, infecting the already too little space we do have to talk and laugh and share. Because it's more important to be right and to win then it is to apologize and retract. Or so it seems, then.
Whatever comes our way, ah we'll see it through,
And you know that's what our love can do.
Sometimes we say things we don't mean and it hurts and I wonder if the effects run deeper--longer-- than any visible scars. Because the truth is, there aren't instructions for living 300 miles away from your best friend and husband. There isn't a guidebook or a script or a magic band-aid that takes away the confusion and the loneliness. Not that I'd want it necessarily if there was-- life's intricate mystery and beauty is often masked and indecipherable before the lesson or the "product" is revealed. But until then, this metaphorical ocean will inevitably be full of both calm and high seas. And truth be told, I haven't navigated these particular waves before. Some days, then, the tranquility must come from what we know and where we've been rather than where we currently are.
And in this crazy life, and through these crazy times
It's you, it's you, You make me sing
You're every line, you're every word, you're everything.
They say strong ships always come back to safe harbor. The weathered vessels-- the ones full of creaks, rust, torn masts, barnacles-- are perhaps the most powerful, as their strength has been tested and proven amidst even the harshest stretch of sea. It makes sense relationships would follow the relatively same logic, and while the figurative passages without land in sight are isolated and scary, the end reward is so rich and sweet and gratifying...
You're every song, and I sing along.
'Cause you're my everything.
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