And now, a summary of my week, in free verse:
wake up
go to work
drive 1 0 0 feetthenstopandslamonbrakes
throw numbers
into
the
technocratichypocriticprotofascist well
that is my laptop
phone call for information
goddamn you, voice mail
lunch break
quiet desperation?
but this sandwich is so good
no
escape
but, like I said, it was a pretty good sandwich
finally leave for home
all part of the
glorioussadhappybroken
suburban struggle
eat again
in front of glowing telebox
before i must start again
assuage my pain
rerun of "Cheers"
Sunday, May 23, 2004
Sunday, May 16, 2004
According to Blogger's new profile dealie (see the side for the link), I have written 39,222 words in this thing since I started in February 2003. That's roughly 160 pages, or a short novel full of things that are of interest to me and only me.
Unfortunately, I still trail many of the novels whose word counts are listed here. But did David Copperfield have a ton of stupid pop culture references, or did Charlotte Bronte ever write about Jandek? I think not. So I'm making it my goal to keep on pumping out the entries until I overtake Gulliver's Travels around 2007 or so. Let me warn you, Robert Louis Stephenson: in early 2005, you will be my bitch.
Unfortunately, I still trail many of the novels whose word counts are listed here. But did David Copperfield have a ton of stupid pop culture references, or did Charlotte Bronte ever write about Jandek? I think not. So I'm making it my goal to keep on pumping out the entries until I overtake Gulliver's Travels around 2007 or so. Let me warn you, Robert Louis Stephenson: in early 2005, you will be my bitch.
I saw Mission of Burma last night at the 9:30 Club in DC. I will try to refrain from too much gushing during this recap, but it will be difficult - it was definitely the best show I've ever attended and an incredible evening that even exceeded the high expectations I had beforehand.
The first opening act was The Hiss. If you've ever wondered to yourself, "Would the Strokes be better if they had a lead singer who sounded like the frontman of a third string arena rock group from the 70s and a drummer who overplayed and inserted the same extraneous fills into every song?" the answer is no, no they wouldn't.
The Fiery Furnaces came out next. I already liked them on the strength of last year's Gallowsbird's Bark and their upcoming album Blueberry Boat (the best album I've heard yet this year, by far), but this set gave me a whole new appreciation for them. I had read that they tended to play much faster live than on the albums, but I wasn't prepared for the all-out intensity of their set - all of the arrangements were at least twice as fast (the "I'm Gonna Run/Leaky Tunnel" section sounded like a hardcore punk cover), while Eleanor Friedberger spat out the words to each song with feverish intensity. They played for roughly 45 minutes solid without stopping for space (or breath), incorporating about 15 songs in what was essentially a long medley of their catalog to date. Even the drummer (who looked suspiciously like a young David Lee Roth) breaking a snare couldn't slow them down. It says something about the strength of the Friedbergers' songwriting that the set was just as enjoyable as their albums even with the massive restructuring of the arrangements. And judging from the genuinely exuberant reception they received at the end and wowed reactions of the people around me, they made a lot of new converts last night.
Finally, what we all came for. What more can I say about the greatness of Mission of Burma? The band was in incredible form - just as tight live as on record, and Roger Miller's explosive yet carefully controlled guitar chaos was particularly inspired during the show. The songs from their new album onOFFon were integrated into the playlist well, "The Setup" and "The Enthusiast" were particular highlights of the show. But, let's face it - most of us were there because their classic albums Signals, Calls and Marches and Vs. blew the tops of our heads open and we wanted to hear those songs live. The benefit of Mission of Burma's 20 year hiatus was that they haven't gotten sick of playing the standards - they sounded spirited on every one they tackled, and the enthusiasm of Miller and Clint Conley was infectious. There's something that's still awe-inspiring about seeing a great performance of one of your favorite songs performed live by the original band, and I had that feeling at least six or seven times during the course of the evening. (The only downside was that they didn't do "Einstein's Day," which is probably my favorite Burma song and one of my favorite songs by anyone ever. But they played everything else I needed to hear and a killer cover of the Wipers' "Youth of America" to boot.) Even the usually reserved DC crowds were hopping up and down and chanting along to "That's How I Escaped My Certain Fate" and "Academy Fight Song." All in all, a great experience. I'm not sure how many bands could've taken a 20 year break and then come back and match their old form, but Mission of Burma have managed to pull it off.
The first opening act was The Hiss. If you've ever wondered to yourself, "Would the Strokes be better if they had a lead singer who sounded like the frontman of a third string arena rock group from the 70s and a drummer who overplayed and inserted the same extraneous fills into every song?" the answer is no, no they wouldn't.
The Fiery Furnaces came out next. I already liked them on the strength of last year's Gallowsbird's Bark and their upcoming album Blueberry Boat (the best album I've heard yet this year, by far), but this set gave me a whole new appreciation for them. I had read that they tended to play much faster live than on the albums, but I wasn't prepared for the all-out intensity of their set - all of the arrangements were at least twice as fast (the "I'm Gonna Run/Leaky Tunnel" section sounded like a hardcore punk cover), while Eleanor Friedberger spat out the words to each song with feverish intensity. They played for roughly 45 minutes solid without stopping for space (or breath), incorporating about 15 songs in what was essentially a long medley of their catalog to date. Even the drummer (who looked suspiciously like a young David Lee Roth) breaking a snare couldn't slow them down. It says something about the strength of the Friedbergers' songwriting that the set was just as enjoyable as their albums even with the massive restructuring of the arrangements. And judging from the genuinely exuberant reception they received at the end and wowed reactions of the people around me, they made a lot of new converts last night.
Finally, what we all came for. What more can I say about the greatness of Mission of Burma? The band was in incredible form - just as tight live as on record, and Roger Miller's explosive yet carefully controlled guitar chaos was particularly inspired during the show. The songs from their new album onOFFon were integrated into the playlist well, "The Setup" and "The Enthusiast" were particular highlights of the show. But, let's face it - most of us were there because their classic albums Signals, Calls and Marches and Vs. blew the tops of our heads open and we wanted to hear those songs live. The benefit of Mission of Burma's 20 year hiatus was that they haven't gotten sick of playing the standards - they sounded spirited on every one they tackled, and the enthusiasm of Miller and Clint Conley was infectious. There's something that's still awe-inspiring about seeing a great performance of one of your favorite songs performed live by the original band, and I had that feeling at least six or seven times during the course of the evening. (The only downside was that they didn't do "Einstein's Day," which is probably my favorite Burma song and one of my favorite songs by anyone ever. But they played everything else I needed to hear and a killer cover of the Wipers' "Youth of America" to boot.) Even the usually reserved DC crowds were hopping up and down and chanting along to "That's How I Escaped My Certain Fate" and "Academy Fight Song." All in all, a great experience. I'm not sure how many bands could've taken a 20 year break and then come back and match their old form, but Mission of Burma have managed to pull it off.
Thursday, May 06, 2004
Short CD reviews are a semi-regular feature on this blog. However, I haven't been paying much attention to new music this year and I'm very lazy. So I've asked Today Show movie critic Gene Shalit to contribute a guest column of music reviews. (Please note: Mr. Shalit was awakened from an afternoon nap to write this column, plus he hasn't liked a new album since REO Speedwagon's You Can Tune a Piano, But You Can't Tuna Fish back in 1978, so please excuse any crankiness.)
Kanye West - The College Dropout
Kanye? The answer, after listening to this album: he kant. The title of his debut may be The College Dropout, but I doubt that even a vocational school would take this clown after releasing this report-card-with-4-Fs-and-a-D of an album. West's career is headed south, so dropout this CD from your stereo and put on something better.
Franz Ferdinand
Archduke Franz Ferdinand's assassination helped set World War I into motion, and we can only hope the same fate befalls these Scottish snots. Even four years of global bloodshed would be worth it just to never hear another note from these haggis-chomping hipsters. Glasgow away before I have the whole lot of you kilt.
The Magnetic Fields - i
i hated this tuneless pile of crap. The Magnetic Fields are the polar opposites of quality music, and I am positive that you'll be negative after hearing this CD. And the vocals! There is no Merritt in Stephin's endless droning. Hopefully someone will be killing Fields in the near future so we never have to suffer through another one of these albums.
The Streets - A Grand Don't Come For Free
A grand may not come for free, but even if you get this CD for free, you'll feel like you overpaid. Mike Skinner should be skinned alive for making this grand sham of an album. Even Principal Skinner has better lyrical flow than this Cockney cockhead. The US Air Force should be called in to bomb these Streets to oblivion like the streets of Tikrit.
Kanye West - The College Dropout
Kanye? The answer, after listening to this album: he kant. The title of his debut may be The College Dropout, but I doubt that even a vocational school would take this clown after releasing this report-card-with-4-Fs-and-a-D of an album. West's career is headed south, so dropout this CD from your stereo and put on something better.
Franz Ferdinand
Archduke Franz Ferdinand's assassination helped set World War I into motion, and we can only hope the same fate befalls these Scottish snots. Even four years of global bloodshed would be worth it just to never hear another note from these haggis-chomping hipsters. Glasgow away before I have the whole lot of you kilt.
The Magnetic Fields - i
i hated this tuneless pile of crap. The Magnetic Fields are the polar opposites of quality music, and I am positive that you'll be negative after hearing this CD. And the vocals! There is no Merritt in Stephin's endless droning. Hopefully someone will be killing Fields in the near future so we never have to suffer through another one of these albums.
The Streets - A Grand Don't Come For Free
A grand may not come for free, but even if you get this CD for free, you'll feel like you overpaid. Mike Skinner should be skinned alive for making this grand sham of an album. Even Principal Skinner has better lyrical flow than this Cockney cockhead. The US Air Force should be called in to bomb these Streets to oblivion like the streets of Tikrit.
Sunday, May 02, 2004
Yeah. Well. I'm currently in the throes of another debiliating case of writers' block. So while the half-finished blog and online web magazine pieces taunt me in my Recent Documents folder, let's stall for time by listening to another MP3, shall we? This is "I Lost My Dog" by the Fiery Furnaces from their upcoming album Blueberry Boat. The album mostly consists of longish (seven to ten minutes) pop-psych-English music hall pastiche mini-epics, but this is a short, jaunty old-fashioned pop song that's reminiscent of their debut album. Charming, clever and oddly catchy. And please don't miss the surprise ending, with a groaningly awful pun that serves as the song's punchline.
More later this week. Really. Probably.
More later this week. Really. Probably.