East Coast Babies, Bye-bye.

I was gone! But I'm back. Hi, I missed you.

Downtown Chicago from Pilsen, thanks to Tabitha Butler
The Fall - Chicago Now

Magnetic Fields Love Forever And Always

AH! Somehow or another, I managed to listen to the upcoming Magnetic Fields album and it is serious love. I am in love! Of course I am. They could cheat on me and have someone else's baby but I'll keep on coming back. My two current favorite tracks are "Please Stop Driving" and "Too Drunk to Dream". Or maybe "I'll Dream Alone" and "Zombie Boy". Love!

They are coming through Chicago in March. Sold out. I don't have tickets. Do you know how bummed I am? So. Very. Bummed.

I have two other posts written up! They're coming soon.

Classics are totally like awesome for real.

Still cold out, still finals week, still sick. Well, not as cold, half way through, and worse. Also, rain. So much rain.

We're oh-so-serious, today! Seriously behind on an essay for Political Philosophy that was assigned three weeks ago. Or four. Or five. What, I'm a bad student, you expect me to count how long I've been procrastinating?

Buzzcocks - Everybody's Happy Nowadays
Leonard Cohen - Famous Blue Raincoat

We Believe In Silent Sound; or, What's Up, Indie Rock?

It's cold outside, it's finals week, and I'm sick. My throat hates me. My nose hates me. I hate me. Everyone hates me. Wah wah wah. Plus, I have to go outside to pick up some more yarn. Bah!

Earlimart - Cold Cold Heaven
Herman Düne - Sunny Sunny Cold Cold Day (I love the way he sings, "This one is prrrecious.")
Times New Viking - Common Cold (From the split with Psychedelic Horseshit--both of whom I'm psyched on right now.)

Better and more posts when I'm not dead or furiously knitting(!) and writing to meet deadlines. Actually, what do you care? Oh, you, the Nobody There!

English Twee Bands Everywhere

Nope, not talking about the artsy drunk in this Hans Namuth photograph today.

I don't know much about Action Painting! other than what crops up on Google and I would assume that they've probably named themselves after, well, action painting. Blah blah blah stuff: they were from Brighton, had a few singles on legendary Sarah Records, Fierce Panda, and Damaged Goods, and they are somehow affiliated with something called Shampoo (I don't know why, but I keep on mixing up Shampoo with Squeeze in my mind). The following is the Damaged Goods release which seems to still be available and I urge you to buy it mostly because supporting indie record labels is good for everyone and the quality of the rips I made is not the best they could possibly be. It's also on pretty white vinyl and the single's not as twee as I am. Really. Not as jangly as you'd expect.

Action Painting! - Alice Power
Action Painting! - Laying the Lodger

ETA: So these links are dead. A few have contacted me about 'em. Feel free to send me an e-mail and I'll see what I can do!

"Could be worse...you could be the lead singer in The Fall."

Have you seen Control, the Ian Curtis biopic yet? You should. It's really very good. We all know what happens in the end and you can figure out the stuff in the middle if there's any familiarity with the band's history and music. The film? Is a looker. A beaut. Surprisingly funny and wonderful to look at. And enjoyable to watch, too. The story moves at the appropriate pace and distance, complementing its subject. One of my faves from the past year. If you've ever seen band photos from the past two or so decades (and who hasn't?), you've probably encountered Anton Corbijn's work. This is such a solid first film for the renowned photographer. LOVE IT. I can write whole essays about this movie but it's late and I have poetry to reread for class tomorrow. Really need to see this movie again. So good!

Ladri di biciclette

Someone stole my bike's back wheel. My bike's back wheel was stolen. Passive voice and all, I prefer the second sentence. Puts the emphasis on the important thing, the back wheel. Never mind the subject. I am all about objects.

C'est moi et ma bicyclette
It's incredible to have my primary mode of transportation fucked with. I found it amusing and disheartening that someone would even consider my bike as something of value, enough to steal--it's rusty and gross and there was an apparent dent in the back wheel where I had kicked it the night before out of sober frustration after deciding that, as a duo, we were over. No more of me and my blue Schwinn. Great timing, Universe. Truly great. A friend told me it looks like there's been a rash of wheel theft the past day or two in the Ukrainian Village/Humboldt Park area. So, if you live in Chicago and had your bikes in those 'hoods, watch out. It's a bummer.

I punched in "bike" and "bicycle" into Itunes and came up with amazing stuff. Here ya go:

Action Patrol - Bike Cop
Deerhoof - Midnight Bicycle Mystery
The Ergs - Bike Shoppe
Lightning Bolt - Bizarro Bike
Oh No! Oh My! - The Bike, Sir
Scholastic Deth - Trust Fund aka No Bike Messengers in Russia

Action Patrol, The Ergs, Lightning Bolt, and Scholastic Deth are bands that few if any of my current friends remotely enjoy. Acquired taste, maybe. They're perennially my favorite shit and I love these tracks a lot.

I also love Deerhoof. One of my Favorites of All Time Ever. I can always listen to Deerhoof.

I'm not big on Oh No! Oh My! but I don't mind this track. It's short, it's cute, it's total kitsch indie pop music and that's nice, too.

So, I'm retiring my bike. What's left of it. RIP Blue Bicycle. <3

Okie Dokie

I dig this image very much. I dig the following song very much. Why would I ever put a song I didn't like on here? Many reasons. But tonight is not one of those nights.

Okay - Natural

It's so simple! So sweet. So plain. A perfect little gem in a lovely album that I have bets on will be HUGE. Maybe just big. With a title like Huggable Dust how could it not do well?

I like the song very much mostly because I am forever compiling hypothetical mixtapes for friends, future folk, past acquaintances, and my little sister. Little Sister is the best kid I know and the most receptive to music. I wish I had an older sibling with inconsistent but vast, sprawling taste in music to guide me in my ways. Heh. I'm such an asshole.

I would put "Natural" on the mixtape for the Love of my Apartment Life.

Say What You Will About Public Radio

I love it! I love Ira Glass, too. And the pretty picture below from Scott Olson Photography.
Did you listen to This American Life this weekend? Well, you should've. Then you should've promptly gone to the website and checked out the winners for the Break-Up Song Contest that stemmed from the brilliant story by Starlee Kine on the aptly-named episode Break-Up.

The original song was fantastic and the remakes/remixes are all lovely and heartbreakingly sweet. I love me some cute music.

The Babelfish Babbled Bubbles

Must I really share my thoughts on the new Jay-Z album that everyone seems to be gushing and gushing and gushing over? I guess I should, as I promised I would.

Look, I didn't like the Kanye West album. I, however, was listening to it out of context. I forgot that Mr. West is in the realm of the Top 40 and not the indie underground that I oh-so-very-much cherish because I am l337. After subjecting myself to both the new 50 Cent and the new Jay-Z, I have learned to appreciate him and his latest release. Sure, he's kind of a pompous dolt but he loved his Mom (what a bummer*) and his music is always catchy. I'm going to take back what I said: dude tries. Really, he does. He takes a stab at art.

I can't say the same about the Jay-Z album. It's like dude rolled out of bed, spat some gibberish and called it a Grammy. The album makes even less sense than I do.

Yes, I concede that "American Gangster" is a concept album but it's a hastily made, incredibly boring one. If you're going to make a concept album, MAKE IT. Make something worthwhile and doesn't sound so poorly cobbled together. It's over-rated and lacks that gut feeling of authenticity. Reeks of marketing ploys. And I'm totally not supporting any of my claims because, come on, just listen to the album. It's about as bad as the new Saul Williams. I have a huge freakin' crush on Saul Williams and his work but I'm honest enough to say that I thought Niggytardust is mediocre so...you get it. Right? Yeah, I'm sure you do.

*I think, however, that the biggest bummer is that Donda West's death out-shined, er, over-shadowed Norman Mailer's. NORMAN FUCKING MAILER DIED. Why is it that only Terry Gross cares?

What happened?

Someone please explain to me what happened to all of the time.

I feel like I am always sitting in front of my computer doing something other than updating this blog: typing up journal entries for my Critical Reading and Writing class, looking up pictures of dead babies for my upcoming speech (in mere hours; I am sooo not ready and will be lucky to pull off a B) in Public Speaking, er, I mean Oral Expression and just SCHOOL SCHOOL (and in between, watching Heroes, Ugly Betty, Pushing Daisies, The Office, and Project Runway) SCHOOL WORK WORK WORK SCHOOL SCHOOL DEATH. Scholastic Deth! I love that band! See, music related stuff in a music blog!

I have even more stuff to write in here about. Once tomorrow (today, technically) is over, I'm going to clean my room really well and I'm going to post a bunch of stuff that I've been meaning to and some new stuff. So, this entry is a filler entry just to keep me on track. Things to expect in the next few days:

- My take on Jay-Z's "American Gangster" and why Kanye West is my fave and my least fave mainstream MC
- Vinyl rips! Yeah. For real. Out of print, C86-ish stuff. You'll love it because I love it.
- More vinyl rips! Remember all of those singles I mentioned I had before? Well, I have some on my 'puter now, and I love to share. Because sharing is caring. Yes. That's it.

Gosh. I really need to get some sleep. I have a ridiculously busy day tomorrow and a weekend of catching up on my internet life as well as my school life (who needs a social life?!). Let's hope I hear my alarm clock and don't sleep through the only conference I have this semester. Urgh.

*Not Well-Written

I thought I had a lot more to say about the show I went to last week, but the cursor's been blinking in this empty field for so long, just blink blink blink and I couldn't come up with anything. There isn't much to say other than I grew up, I stopped listening to Sole, I stopped listening to music that "speaks" to me in a way that I no longer find appealing.

I still love a lot of the things I used to listen to. I used to really love everything associated with Anticon. Why? seems to have progressed in parallel with me by moving from weird whatever to pretty solid but still interesting indie rock territory. If you asked 15-year old me what I'd be listening to as a college senior, I never would've guessed it would largely be the CUTEST POP MUSIC IN THE WORLD--I'm looking at you, Belle and Sebastian. If you also happened to tell 15-year old me that I would go to art school to study writing, I probably would've puked up snot and intestines and laughed and laughed and laughed while wearing my science medals. I digress. What I meant to say is that I still like and listen to a lot of the stuff with the Anticon label slapped on it. Except for, well, Sole. Sole is not something that has aged well with me.



I went to the show partly because I wanted to satiate that younger, idealistic, pimply-er, fatter me who really loved dense music that reaffirmed whatever it was I believed in. Mostly, I went because I said I would as a friend was opening up. The show was good. I had fun. I got bored. I saw things and myself in a different light. However, because that experience touches on things that should be discussed with my BFFs and not a blog not meant for my post-teenage angst*, I think this is where I'll wrap up. At least I saw a cute boy.

Stutter and Stammer Around A Cherry Tree

My friend Jamie has a super good blog that you should read: Oh! How Lovely!. A day or two ago, she asked her readers what their theme songs would be. It took a while but I finally decided on one for myself:

Beat Happening - Youth

I wanted to find a song with pizazz, with pop!, with jazz hands, with flashing lights and zing, but that's just not me. Give me fuzz. Give me simple. Give me skinned knees and Tokyo and songs that clock in under two minutes. Songs that I can play, that anyone can. I love this band. I didn't start listening to them until I first got to college all of those years ago (though not that many but a lot for my short life so far). An aside: I can't believe I can measure the time I've spent in college, in Chicago, in years. Actual years. When I was young, I couldn't pronounce Chicago. My tongue wouldn't bend the right way. Then it happened, suddenly, and here I am.

swiftly sweeping away swift from my titling vocabulary

if you don't see me in the next few days, I've moved to Sweden and bought a horse and a cat. Blame NPR. Seriously. You can also blame the truly wonderful Bob Boilen's/NPR's All Songs Considered for my taste in music. Sometimes Pitchfork (yeah, I said it) but mostly ASC--go to their redesigned site and, most importantly, the new blog. It's great and where I came across the video.

Failing Swiftly

I failed at NaBloPoMo in just a three-day period. Wow. That's okay, because I failed at NaNoWriMo in even less time than that. How embarassing. Oh well. Such is the life of a "busy" person. I JUST HAVEN'T BEEN ON THE INTERNET! Blasphemy, I know. And I broke my favorite pen but that's a different story for a different place if I ever get around to it. AND I've been sick. Look, I have a lot of excuses with varying degrees of legitimacy. Really, though, I have a sinus infection that feels like a squirrel living in my upper left jaw. I didn't know that was possible until it happened! No really. My jaw hurts and I have a sinus infection. Sick or not, I did do a lot of music related stuff since I went missing. I'll parcel those out in appropriate doses in the next few days.

Last Saturday, on the day that I did not post in this here blog, I went to the Sole headlining show at Abbey Pub. There's a lot to write and it deserves its own post. But I will leave you with the following--a Missed Connection for Mostly Certain:

sole (not the fish*) show @ abbey pub

You were by yourself, dark hair, scruffy-faced, glasses, a hoodie/vest? combo thing and a collared shirt? I can't remember. You grabbed a beer at the bar early on in the night and I almost approached you because I thought you were a friend of a friend; a friend of a friend I have yet to formally meet but have an e-crush on because I'm an idiot internet stalker fiend but this whole last bit is not relevant, is it? Anyway, I just wish you weren't into such didactic music. You were totally into it. How endearing.

*Fish pictures? You need fish pictures? You should go here.

A Swift Kick From 1995

Sonic Youth - Little Trouble Girl (m4a, not mp3)

Seriously. Watch the video. Listen to the song. It is delicious. It's like the first time I watched Ghost World. A couple of us gals spent the night in a friend's attic bedroom in a drafty house. We curled into bed and watched the movie and I was completely floored. This is what being a girl is, neigh this is what being a teenage girl is (and even now I'd contend that this is how it is, though I'm not all that far-removed from teenage-hood). This is the isolation I feel. This is how my life and my perceptions are deflating. None of that is wrong, really, but it's just how it is. Recently, I tried to explain to someone why Ghost World is one of my favorite movies (and then one of my favorite comics) and I couldn't without resorting to, "You have to be a girl to understand. It perfectly portrays what growing up as a girl feels like." I really hated myself for saying that because it was inadequate.



But that's the way I would attempt to describe "Little Trouble Girl", too. I can't succinctly write about why this song encompasses and opens up everything ever about my gender as I've experienced it any better than how I attempted to explain why Ghost World is just so good. "Little Trouble Girl" may be a little bit more on the surface but it's the sing-songy repetition, the general malaise (fancy word alert) that really does it. Plus, Kim Deal! Kim Gordon! Perfection, those two.

The Decade-And-Some of Repetitious Band Names

Gang Gang Dance like Die! Die! Die! and whatever, sixty-four more Something Something bands that are no where near being as good as those two and all of the stellar bands I know I'm not thinking of.



Dance Party Earthquake Riot Volcano. WHY HAVEN'T I BEEN LISTENING TO THIS BAND THE MOMENT I HEARD ABOUT THEM? Why must I dismiss everything because of a dumb band name and because it is "cool" when it actually is cool? Or hot. Hot like things that which are so cool that it defies all logic and simultaneously exists in both ends of the spectrum thus being HOT and COOL. Not smoking hot because I am asthmatic and that would be a bad scene, man. Really bad. Why must I be this way?

Je parle français, mais un peu

I've never been to Paris in April. I've been there in October, November, December, January, June, July, and August. Once in the colder months, twice in the summer. Perhaps I should've stuck it out for April.

Charlie Parker - April In Paris

Parker's Paris is: catching the Metro just in time and carrying a black umbrella. Lunch dates with someone whose eyes wrinkle in the corners before he smiles. Swapping stories about "back home" with fellow ex-pats with only a glint of nostalgia and not that overwhelmingly thick coating. Dusk walks around the neighborhood in heeled shoes that click or tap or click-tap. Some other Paris that I may still find if I ever wind up back there.



I'll admit it. When I was in France, I listened to a lot of the same things. Feist and Dizzee Rascal videos aired a lot on M6 in the early morning hours and I was totally into it. It's not so much a secret, but I love marionettes and puppets. So grotesque and whimsical. "Dream" is a bit kitsch and kind of silly and a few years later, I'm not sure if I like Dizzee Rascal or if I just buy into critical hype.



...

I'm computer dumb so bear with me as I try to figure out how to use, er, build? a flash player. Maybe by the New Year, yeah? I bet it's all sorts of simple. For the time being, I'm using Bleep for flash since I'm not 1337 enough to listen to horribly obscure stuff.

I Am Not Hungry, I Just Think About Food and French A Lot

Almost a year ago, I procured about a dozen (maybe more. What, you expect me to count?) Franco-Canadian 45s via an internet auction site everyone is familiar with. It was one of those late night, impulse bids. I'm totally into it.

This is my favorite of the set, thus one of my Favorite of All Time Ever.

Les Sinners - Les Disc-Jockeys.

...like I should be wearing better clothing and living in a city with far superior public transit and friends I see more often. Like I should be packing a picnic lunch and dancing at dance parties. Like I should mail out the letters I write and listen to the radio in the park.

Les Sinners - Ne reste pas sous la pluie

Cute, right? Don't stay under the rain is pretty solid advice, too. I like their garage-y stuff best but this is so nice. It makes me want to play with my hair, jump into puddles, and use the proper accents when writing en francais. I would like to get my hands on their earlier LPs but they are $$$ and I am spending too much $$$ as of late. This month should be good on the cash flow, though.

Both tracks from the same 7" put out by Jupiter Records. Apologies for the crap quality; it's the old vinyl, the mostly plastic record player, the cheap cables, the lack of editing. More of 'em to come. Maybe.

I obviously didn't flip the image because I am laaaazy (also, heeeey, that's part of my kitchen where culinary delights no longer occur on a nightly basis now that school and work and internship is in full swing). Did you know a flip, according to Barron's Food Lover's Companion (I finally bought a copy) is a "concoction of rum, beer, sweetener, and spices" that you mix together by "plunging a hot fireplace poker" into it? Sounds great! Except the whole putting a beaten egg in it part that the hip kids are doing now. In the words of the elf of over-zealous, pseudo-cooking who happens to be on my box of whole grain, wheat crackers, "YUMM-O!"

I have never been to Brazil nor have I ever seen the movie.

Cansei De Ser Sexy - Poney Honey Money

I'm not sure what's going on in this song. I like it. The simplicity. The filtered twangy twinge. The contrast between this track as a closer for the Brazilian release and the dance-party-friendlier "This Month, Day 10" that closes the International release. Here is a word that had a similar effect and reaction when I looked it up:

Candid, as taken from Merriam-Webster.com:

can·did

Pronunciation: \ˈkan-dəd\

Function: adjective

Etymology: French & Latin; French candide, from Latin candidus bright, white, from candēre to shine, glow; akin to Welsh can white, Sanskrit candati it shines

Date: 1606

1: white <candid flames>

2: free from bias, prejudice, or malice : fair candid observer>

3 a: marked by honest sincere expression candid discussion> b: indicating or suggesting sincere honesty and absence of deception candid face> c: disposed to criticize severely : blunt <candid critics>

4: relating to or being photography of subjects acting naturally or spontaneously without being posed

synonyms see frank

— can·did·ly adverb

— can·did·ness noun

I Ought to Send One to Her

Jens Lekman - A Postcard to Nina

In high school, I had friends. One of my best friends then was Nina. She was and is wonderfully intelligent and beautiful. I often wonder what she's up to now but I am not good at checking in.

I have a crush on Jens Lekman. Look at him. I mean, just LOOK at him. Also, the gorgeous pop music. Also, the simple, biting, and sweet lyrics. Also, he blogs. Also, we share a birthday. Be still, oh heart.

...

I have a new idea for this blog, one I like very, very much but it means a full revamp and actual time and dedication but jesus what am I, some kind of blogging machine? No. No, I am not. I am a student-worker-crazy-hours-keeper machine. I have little time for this but it's my favorite corner of the internet. If I can figure out how to budget my time better, this blog will be bangin'.

Steel and Whiskey.

Lately, I've been taking long walks after work thinking about a lot of things that do not matter in the long run. It was a gorgeous day on Monday; not humid and sticky or filled with torrential rains. Pleasant. The weather was pleasant.

It was Iron and Wine's Carousel. If the sounds of that song existed as Environment (trees, sidewalk, grass, bikes, cars, houses, cars, more cars), it was splayed out on Monday, filtered through my government-issued glasses that refract the sunlight in a way that makes the artificially sharpened edges glow. Lens flares, all of the time, I see them with these glasses in such bright daylight. Out-of-reach orbs of light.

So pleasant and deceptively serious. The song, I mean.

Quick, Speedy, Fast

Three Things:

1) Using my iPod's standard earphones is a pain. I bought headphones imported from Japan. I probably shouldn't've.
2) The past week or two, I listened to Cap 'n Jazz when I walked to and from work. Why?
3) I'm listening to Orchid right now. Yes! I played them a few times during my short venture into radio during high school. Weird. I was a lot happier in high school.

Night Windows

I'm broke. Been buying too many CDs and records and junk. Not enough time to sit down and ramble about how much I still love the Colleen album that came out earlier this summer. Because I love it. I love Colleen. I love how I hope, really hope, that it becomes hip shit because I'm sort of maybe tired of irony. Irony is exhausting. I love Colleen and I don't want to like Clipse 'cause I don't and I wore hot pink and neon green leopard print sneakers today. Oi.

Today I found my copy of The Weakerthan's Left and Leaving. My taste in music during my teenage years was far superior than the mess it has been since. Next thing you know, I'll be listening to cLOUDDEAD again. Speaking of teenage taste, Daitro and Ampere (!!!) are coming through soon. Teenage!Me would've been all over it. YoungAdult!Me hasn't gone to a show since May, let alone one like the Ampere/Daitro show which will be filled with people who know each other. I don't know anyone. On a vaguely related note (that is, if you clicked the link), Times New Viking came through town last Friday and though I am now a Young Adult, I am not yet old enough to go to bars. I'm sure it was amazing because they were stunning in the sort of fuzzy way I love when I saw them. Anyway, about half a year until I get to fully realize the alcoholic that I am. Yessss.

This Is Not What I Want to Write About

Kanye West, you are killing me. Serious. I am quite behind in the world of music (and blogs, too--months, maybe years) and recently heard the new Kanye West single, "Stronger". It's pretty much the Daft Punk track, "Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger", with West rapping over it. Well no. Borrowing heavily from. Or samples. I mean samples, right? I feel like a sample shouldn't be so blatant but what should I know (there are, of course, exceptions, i.e. Girl Talk's spastic samples are earth-shatteringly obvious yet deceptive and brilliant that it's a work to behold). Anyway, I disliked it when Busta Rhymes sampled Daft Punk's "Technologic" for his single, "Touch It", last year. Same French duo, different song, different artist, and I still dislike it. The a cappella version floating around on the internet last year is more interesting than West's take. It feels more sincere. Dudes actually try and appear to care.



I'm not quite sure how I define sincerity, but I don't hear it often. Music or anything. It's the sort of thing one recognizes when it's there, and if it's not present, everything seems shallow and pointless. "For fun" is not a good enough excuse to make crap.

With that said, I find the track with West rapping over Peter, Bjorn, and John's "Young Folks" to be lackluster. No pop for a pop song. And let's not delve into the mess that is Lupe Fiasco, Pharrell (an aside: I have a cousin who is the spitting image of this dude), and West sampling Thom Yorke's "The Eraser". Ick. Granted, I find it the best of the three latest tunes. But that's not saying much, is it?

I really want to like Kanye West. Really, I do. I liked that first album that made him ridiculously famous. I even somewhat liked the one that came after--Jon Brion did work on it and Brion is a darling in my musically-illiterate universe. Hearing these recent tracks, however, I have a feeling that the drop out from my school is going to do like most Columbia (or any college) alums--he's going to get boring and coast.

...

I have a lot of posi stuff to write about. Swears! It's just taking some time to collect my thoughts. Or pretend to. I don't really collect anything.

An Office Job To Do

I loved it when RJD2 decided to speak up, um, I mean sing in "Making Days Longer" off of Since We Last Spoke. Yeah, that's right. I didn't mind his sing-speak. I liked it. I loved it. If I were in a band, I would sing-speak. I also loved the idea of him departing from his norm and doing a more pop-oriented album (though, if this were a Serious blog, I would contend to say that everything he's done is Pop. Alas, I am not Serious nor is this blog and it's not like I thought that out before I started typing).

There's the problem: the idea is great. Full of promise. The actual manifestation of it is really not what I hoped he would accomplish. Accomplish is not the word. "Come up with". Listening to it straight-through the three times that I have so far in the past month or so, I feel like Rjd2 could've pushed and then pushed some more to get something not necessarily more polished, but something that's much more focused, more of what we all know he's capable of.

If the breeziness of "Making Days Longer" carried over into The Third Hand, I wouldn't've disliked the album so much. Yes, I disliked it and no one is surprised. Good job at trying, but it just didn't work out. If you're going to sing-speak, do it right. Make it the focus. Make the lyrics, the vocals punchier. Sure, stay restrained but let something peek out. Anything. I bought the album out of sheer curiosity. I listened because I wanted to hear him. But where did he go?

I wholeheartedly believe that one can be timid and present at the same time. He showed us with one breathtaking track and it's there, you know, inside of all of the crud, there's a breathtaking album. The Third Hand feels like a collection of afterthoughts or maybe a rough draft for something that Rjd2 is trying to develop. I'm not sure if the album is, in the grand scheme of his career, a step backward or forward. Maybe it's not a step at all. Maybe it's an extended jump straight up into the air but so far up that the world continued rotating and the poor guy just landed in the middle of the ocean.

...

No mp3 but the randomly found YouTube video is magnificent. Beautiful and minimal. Much like the song, I thought to myself, "I can't believe I actually like this." You could also watch the related videos where Rjd2 performs the song. With a band. And an acoustic guitar. I'm sorry. Really. I apologize. I just can't seem to dig that because I'm a close-minded asshat.

Grey, Gray Sky Is Still Raining

It's dark but it's daytime still. I've just gotten out of the bath and I've dried off and dressed now, but I'm coiled up on my bed, my knees tucked in, my sheets pushed at the end of the bed. I'm listening to Lavender Diamond's "Garden Rose" (mp3 via yousendit) and it's not at all how I'm feeling, contrary to what's going on, to the lights having been turned off, to the heavily sad humidity.

I'm feeling more like "Here Comes One" (ditto); a continuation of something, a readjustment, another variation of an already existing deviation in the whole. Look, I'm gonna smile once in a while if I don't mean it. It happens, you know?

An aside: "Like An Arrow" on the same album as the two provided tracks, Imagine Our Love, reminds me of Heart. Yeah, that band. I don't know why.

Justin Long Is a Beautiful Man Who Shares My Last Name

I have given tons of money to Apple. I have an iPod now. I held off for a long time when it came to purchasing one, but I decided to just do it, gosh darn it, just get on that bandwagon already when I bought my new laptop.

So now I'm the owner of an 80GB iPod. How sweet is that?

You know what would be even sweeter? If my external hard drive with the roughly 60GB of audio files worked. That would be sweeter than the season's ripest fruit. Mango. Berries. Compound fruits are awesome.

What's Your Favorite Record?

This is me. Hi.

In greater detail, this is me with three days unwashed, straightened hair holding on to a copy of one of my Favorite of All Time Ever records in beautiful yellow vinyl with white and pink marbling. This copy of Beat Happening's You Turn Me On cost me a bit more than I would like to admit to having spent on a record seeing as I am not exactly in the financial state to be spending any money at all on anything other than rent and bills and possibly food and tampons, but I essentially am an irrational young adult whose priorities are mixed up. All said and done, this record cost me a pair of quarters shy of $25 and, let me tell you, it was worth it.

The record, physically and audibly, is simple and beautiful. The embellishments are subtle and fuzzy. I want to laze around the apartment with the love of my life (not just summer love, I mean apartment love, love love) while listening to this record. Maybe not lazing but doing an activity that isn't much of anything like, say, rearranging books.

You know Beat Happening. Everyone knows Beat Happening. It's that warm tingle in the bridge of your nose when you've met a cute somebody who has a skinned knee and squints a lot and just wants to walk quietly in a park with you, but you both end up on the beach instead, digging your toes into the sand, past that warm layer and deep into the more compact, water-cooled layer while your bikes are resting nearby somewhere and you don't even mind that it's getting late and there's sand in your trousers because that tingle* in your nose bridge is lasting for more than a moment. This is it. Everyone knows that, right? Some of us could pretend to and ache for it until it happens, oh god, if it ever happens, this deceptively simple kind of love, and really, Beat Happening is it. This band, this record, is one of the few that breaks and reassembles my feeble, little heart.

*Or it may only be allergies.

Rejoice. Oh Glory, Rejoice.

I have a shiny MacBook Pro now. Lovin' it. Lovin' it real good. Lovin' it so much that I almost shed a tear when I plugged my external hard drive in and figured out what I knew all along: I have corrupted files. I'm working on it but haven't had the time to try and salvage the bulk of my digital music collection. There are two reasons for this:

One. The new-ish El-P record, I'll Sleep When You're Dead. It's so good. And different. And not disappointing. It's rather dark and not summertime music in the way that the usual indie-pop fare I gravitate towards to is what with the lack of sunshine of the over-exposed variety and hand-claps and vanilla ice cream and it being, well, not jangly pretty music. Dark but not angst-riddled. None of the malaise I often attribute dark things. Dark and pulsing. Dark and alive. Dark and Dark. Dark. Dark. Dark. But fun. I can listen to this album and hear something different each time. The truth is, I've spent the bulk of the past month holed up in my room trying very much to get writing done. What I have accomplished, however, is the fine art of reading in bed whilst listening to records in their entirety. This is one that I'm mostly certain will stick with me beyond summer. Oh, hey, I listen to something other than guitars and drums and all of things like that?

Two. I learned how to ride a bike. Sort of. I have no time for computers and music what with slimmed-hipped boys distracting me. I also bought a U Lock so no more lugging it up and down three flights in a very narrow stairway. Music. Pfft.

Reckless Lots

I find record stores as uncomfortable as book stores. I love these places, but I am under-qualified to be there. I know nothing of music or books. I played the violin for a little while when I was younger but what kid didn't play the violin? Sure, I'm a writing student. That doesn't mean a thing if I can't focus to write what I need to write.

Record stores make my guts open up and let my heart dive into an acidic bath. I get so nervous. I bite my nails. I end up buying some album, any album. Please don't judge me, I think. Please be my friend and think that my selection means that I am an inviting and interesting person.

Admittedly, that's stupid. Pathetic. No one cares about what album I am buying, about what album I'm listening to, what song I'm obsessed with. No one really cares about much of anything, least of all some dippy girl who is clutching on to a Leonard Cohen album she already owns but will probably buy again anyway because she's forgotten her Ever-Growing List of Records That Should Be Bought. She's forgotten it because she's walked into a dim record store where everyone else knows everyone else and she's starting to bite her nails, really bite them, and goodness, that's the sound of a heart splashing and writhing inside of another organ, isn't it?

Cooling Effects of Summer Solstice Felt

Though having lived on the same floor for a couple of semesters in college (which, by the way, I still have three semesters left to get my thrilling BA in Fiction Writing !), I don't know The Armchairs (Myspace) too well. Not much at all besides that they were directly across the hall, one-half of the duo hails from the same state I do, and there had been a passing hello once in a while between us. So when one morning I awoke and there was a Myspace friend request from their band, I hesitated before I listened. I knew, somewhat, their taste in music but had no ideas about their music-making abilities. It could've been crap but I enjoy their fledgling project. The influences are pointed out then explored and exploited to the point where I am, well, impressed by the (this is a phrase I loathe) pop sensibility (Mantra #1: "Whatever That Means"). I like the band name as I'm a sucker for plush single-seaters (good for "reading", i.e. passing out after being consumed and then spat out by the new Don Delillo and Haruki Murakami--summer reading is great!) and really, starts with a "The" and ends with two easy-on-the-tongue syllables. What a name!

It's nice. Vanilla ice cream nice. Single scoop in a cup with a wooden tongue-depressor type of spoon. You know what I'm talking about. I liked the strawberry syrup topped best but chocolate was the one I always chose. I would hazard to say the choice was made because it was standard and comfortable. When I was back in Pennsylvania earlier this month, I stopped by H Mart and bought nougat ice cream bars dipped in the thinnest coat of chocolate. New standard of comfort. It's how The Armchairs will taste like if they're still around to be stumbled upon in the next few years. Who knew they were across the way for all that time?

...

Melt Banana are playing tonight. I am stoked. But not enough to go to the ATM, get out cash, and make the (probably) hour-long trip on the CTA to see them. I need to learn how to ride a bike and carry cash.

Today, I went downtown and ordered my MacBook Pro. I'm frugal but when I spend money, I spend enough to get me to the other side of the world and back one-and-a-half times. Should be getting it within two weeks. Look forward to consistent updates and a better variety. Better is subjective. Aren't you psyched? Aren't all three(?) of you readers psyched? I am.

I Know I'm Not Wrong

I didn't intend for an almost month-long hiatus from this blog. Not at all. I had listened to a fair amount of my digital music collection and made lists of what I thought would be interesting to put here so that I can show the great big wide world of the Internet that I do have taste, really, I do. Not particularly good taste or bad taste but taste still the same.

I didn't intend for my computer to die (shot motherboard). The death of a very important technological apparatus somehow sparked the idea in me that perhaps I can go a summer without a computer of my own. I can't. I'm going to purchase a MacBook (Pro?) by the end of the month.

I didn't intend to stop listening to music. I haven't stopped. I've listened to loads, actually. I've bought CDs and I'm going to suck it up and go to a record store and buy actual records soon. Record stores frighten me. I don't feel adequately interesting enough to patronise one.

I don't intend to keep this blog on the sickly sweet indie pop side of the musical spectrum, but here I am about to ramble on about a band from Brooklyn who make mildly folk-tinged pop songs with a spark of technology hovering over top (a big surprise, any of this?). I'm not going to tell you who's in the band (I have no idea) because you can find out on your own, but Mossyrock is pretty darn sweet in the way that my kid sister is sweet. So not sweet but another vague word: charming. Or maybe fresh. It's how my pores feel from a well-rested night of sleep and I wake up in the springtime. Full and content but not bloated. Whatever that means.

I like it best when no one sings, by the way. Reminds me too much of Shop Assistants when a warm voices creeps in to fill the gaps if Shop Assistants were more inclined toward Spring and not Autumn (and again, I have no idea what I'm talking about). You can hear a few tracks from Mossyrock on their Myspace (the first track, "I Know I'm Not Wrong", is great, singing and all). They're also currently on tour with James Apollo as part of the Big Art Show summer tour. Big Art Show is all sorts of fun. It'll be in Chicago tomorrow, June 13 at well-loved South Union Arts.

Picking Locks With Footprints From The Snow

I wanted to find the perfect song to start off this blog. I wanted to mention how I had gone to see Screaming Yellow Zonkers, Times New Viking, and The Ponys all by myself at Subterrenean last weekend. I wanted to write about how guts react in an acidic goo of exhilaration and joy when a show is really good, standing around all awkward-like or not.

The problem, however, is that I couldn't find the right song to start off. I didn't fully enjoy the show simply because I felt so lonely in such a crowded place and gee, how representative of my life in Chicago. Anyway, the bands were all amazing and Times New Viking floored me, absolutely floored me, but that's not what this post is about. This is about a song.

"Libraries" by Seabear (mp3 via yousendit) is a good choice for just putting iTunes on shuffle and clicking play. I've only listened to it just now for the first time and really, it should've been sooner because, c'mon, I love libraries! So much so that I'm thinking of doing postgrad work in library sciences but that's a different subject altogether. Anyway, I enjoyed the self-released Singing-Arc EP that preceded this, back when Seabear was just some guy in Iceland and not an actual band. My roommate had purchased it and paid an exorbitant amount in shipping costs to get the handcrafted gem of a CDEP. It was what I would listen to on cold nights in a sterile room just having walked in from the blustery climate of a Chicago winter. The full-length, The Ghost That Carried Us Away, is brighter, warmer, and poppier than Singing-Arc. "Libraries", in particular, is fuller yet lighter than any of the other tracks I can remember from the EP. Have I mentioned that Seabear is a whole band now? It sure sounds like it. It's music that twinkles. This could be a problem but that aching feeling I was so familiar with from the EP flirts around the corners of the lovely little tune and the album as a whole. Lovely indeed.

No Need for an Introduction

Thank vodka, a balcony in Chicago, and a couple of friends for the inception of yet another blog from me. This just isn't any blog, though. This is Mostly Certain. This is a music blog. It's pretty typical. Under Goodness are music blogs or review sites that I read off-and-on and whose opinions I may not agree with, but I trust anyway. It'll be a growing list.

So, how exactly am I going to go about this? I'm thinking of two basic types of review posts: individual songs and whole albums. I'll probably lean towards more single song reviews as those will most likely include an mp3 download. I learned pretty early on to share. Anyway, album reviews will come around once in a while. I'll maybe discuss somewhat relevant things (my newfound desire to be in a twee pop punk band) and perhaps not so relevant things (how about that A.M. Homes memoir?).

This may not last and I won't be surprised if it fails. However, this is the first good idea vodka gave me in a long time, perhaps ever.