I've been going to classes offered at Unity Studio in the lovely Ithaca, NY since senior year started-- classes in Group Voice, Lyric Writing, and Pro Tools-- and they have all been amazing. I absolutely love travelling to I-Town three days a week to hang out at the studio. I mean, who really gets that opportunity? Who has access to free classes at a free recording studio? I love it. And though I am sad that the semester has ended, which means that there won't be any more classes until mid-January, I want to share a piece of awesomeness I worked on this past month.
In the Group Voice class, we decided that our final project would be to cover a song and use our equipment to record it. Because I was also in the Pro Tools class, there was a bit of cross-over, which was cool. I enjoyed mixing separate aspects of music together in this way. And I got to play both the roles of the producer and of the musician.
I decided to cover a Fleet Foxes song (surprise, surprise), my favorite song, titled "Drops in the River." Luckily my favorite song is also in a comfortable range, so I didn't need to do any transposing. Since I am very limited when it comes to playing guitar, we had to find someone more proficient to step in. Thankfully, Dani's (who is the Unity Studio Coordinator) boyfriend Evan stepped in to do the job. For a few of the Group Voice classes, we rehearsed, and then we were ready to record.
In the next Pro Tools class, we first laid down the guitar track. I'll admit there was some trouble-shooting-- this was only the second time we had recorded a musician in class. Some of the M Boxes act up because they're older models. We couldn't figure out how to put a click track on in order for Evan to keep time. And even though we put our "Recording" sign up over the door window, without fail, a group of kids WILL come screaming down the Community Center hallway and pound on the door, looking for Dani. But we got going and made it all go as smoothly as possible.
I didn't really know how long the recording process was going to take, so I was under the illusion that we would have it all complete in our 1.5 hr class-- this was not so. Whenever Evan played an error, we had to cut it out or record over it or create a new track. The guitar recording process took about an hour and fifteen minutes, leaving me only around fifteen minutes to mumble out one shaky take. But it was alright: I just scheduled some time to come into the studio and keep working on it.
I believe that I worked on the vocals for about 4 or 5 days. First, we had to get the main melody just right. Then we decided to add some harmonies, and this took forever. To get my pitches to line up was pretty difficult at times, especially because there are some tricky rhythms in the song. We also doubled my voice in places. Plus, I was a little over critical of my voice, though I suppose this was expected. Dani was encouraging, but she obviously didn't hear the mistakes I heard, regardless of whether there were actually any mistakes or not. As a result, I sang a lot of takes. A LOT of takes.
But then it was done, finished, completed, and I felt satisfied with all I had done... until the effects drew me in. I spent around an hour and a half just putting reverb and flanger and other effects (that I was forced to experimented with because I didn't even know what they did) on every single track to see how it sounded. This experiment was fruitless. I didn't like what any of the effects did to my voice. The reverb made my voice too quiet and muffled, while the flanger made my voice sound spacey (an effect I didn't want on such a folky tune). The other effects just overwhelmed me, so I decided to scrap the effects altogether. And it actually sounds pretty good for my first recorded piece ever.
I'm looking forward to creating other recorded works-- maybe some covers, maybe an original or two...
But for now, please enjoy my cover of "Drops in the River" by Fleet Foxes!
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Friday, December 4, 2009
Track Five- Trani
Allow me to resume my Kings of Leon fandom, for I have grown away from them in the past few months. Alas, this happens with all bands I become rabidly obsessed with. It's difficult to consistently foam at the mouth over the same group forever: breaks are needed once in awhile. Luckily, these breaks don't detract any of the love I have for the band. After a month or two, I pop the CD back into my car and cruise around with the tunes positively blaring, and I am in love again. So, drumroll *ba-dum-pshhhhhhhhh* ...Trani!
This video is actually one of the more amazing Kings of Leon performances I have witnessed on the great world of YouTube. Have you ever wanted to see the Kings of Leon completely lose their shit? Watch this video-- now!
This song is not only beautiful, but also exhilarating. And this performance holds up the recorded version's atmosphere, and probably even adds to it. Caleb's voice always sounds so smooth and achy, in that low drawl of his, and the opening is pretty loyal to the album version. But the boys grow increasingly excited throughout the entire live performance, and completely freak out at the end, which makes it awesome to watch. I'm not sure whether to laugh at them. applaud them, or stand up and freak out in accordance. I would have to make sure I'm the only one in the house if I feel compelled to act on that last impulse, however.
PS.
My dad played some Randy Newman (of Toy Story fame-- "I will go saillllling... no more") in the car when we went on a road trip over Thanksgiving break. Maybe I was still in my Kings of Leon withdrawal period... but Caleb sounds quite like him, in my opinion. Their tonal qualities are similar. Check it out: I'm not crazy.
And for the fellow kids born in '92 and on, who will only associate Randy Newman with Buzz Lightyear's realization that he is, in fact, a toy: he's got a larger repertoire than what appears in Disney Pixar works. And this repertoire is kind of groovy.
This video is actually one of the more amazing Kings of Leon performances I have witnessed on the great world of YouTube. Have you ever wanted to see the Kings of Leon completely lose their shit? Watch this video-- now!
This song is not only beautiful, but also exhilarating. And this performance holds up the recorded version's atmosphere, and probably even adds to it. Caleb's voice always sounds so smooth and achy, in that low drawl of his, and the opening is pretty loyal to the album version. But the boys grow increasingly excited throughout the entire live performance, and completely freak out at the end, which makes it awesome to watch. I'm not sure whether to laugh at them. applaud them, or stand up and freak out in accordance. I would have to make sure I'm the only one in the house if I feel compelled to act on that last impulse, however.
PS.
My dad played some Randy Newman (of Toy Story fame-- "I will go saillllling... no more") in the car when we went on a road trip over Thanksgiving break. Maybe I was still in my Kings of Leon withdrawal period... but Caleb sounds quite like him, in my opinion. Their tonal qualities are similar. Check it out: I'm not crazy.
And for the fellow kids born in '92 and on, who will only associate Randy Newman with Buzz Lightyear's realization that he is, in fact, a toy: he's got a larger repertoire than what appears in Disney Pixar works. And this repertoire is kind of groovy.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Sub Pop steals my heart
Blitzen Trapper is a spectacular band from Portland, Oregon. They are another folky group signed to Sub Pop, and I can already tell that they will be my next obsession. So Fleet Foxes, I am passing on the torch from one folky Sub Pop band to another. I realize that there are just a few similarities between the two bands (they even performed a few shows together earlier this year), and there is no denying that I'm going through a new-folk phase. But it's a phase I'm loving and I'll ride it 'til the end.
The local college radio station, Ithaca College's WICB, first introduced me to Blitzen Trapper by playing a few of their songs off their new album, Furr, over and over again (namely "Fire and Fast Bullets"). A few days ago, I heard "Furr," the title track, and couldn't get it out of my head. The song is amazing. I looked it up on YouTube, of course, and ended up listening to it about 15 times between yesterday and today. And that kind of dedication is surely love-- or at least fanaticism.
I don't know what it is about "Furr" that pulls me in headfirst, but I do know that the song is completely gorgeous. When I play the song, I feel like a wild creature, half-kid, half-animal, out on a romp through the wilderness. I feel like I should run past trees, up a mountain, and on the shore of a lake all while howling into a ghostly moon. Listening to the lyrics helps this vision, for the song is about an who's compelled to join a wolf pack out in the forest and subsequently turns into a wolf man. Then he ends up leaving it all behind to settle down on a farm with a phenomenal beauty and presumably becomes human again. It's a great story to interpret or just to escape in, and this is escapism is echoed in the incredible and relatable line "I still dream of running careless through the snow." Unless you are a snow-hater *narrows eyes* I don't know who wouldn't want to live this song, even only for a day.
It's not all incredibly folky; "Love You" starts off with the angriest power-scream (think a scream of aching desperation, not death metal). You can hear how much suffering is being caused from loving whatever cold individual the singer is trying to love, and this feeling is even emulated in the sorrowful, droopy groove that's playing behind the singer. Oh, and the vocal harmonies are dope, too.
This album just has so much to offer. You've got an easy-going piano ballad on "Not Your Lover" as well as on "Echo/Always On/Easy Con," which turns into this electronic, jazzy breakdown. Upbeat poppy songs are featured on "Gold For Bread" and "Fire and Fast Bullets" while country peeks through in "Stolen Shoes & a Rifle." It's incredible.
Oh, and did I forget to mention that "Lady On the Water" reminds me of Bob Dylan? Actually, I saved this tidbit of information for last because it is what makes me the most happy. (Yeah, I said I'm going through a phase. Will Folk music ever release me from it's stronghold? Not anytime soon, I reckon.)
I was just a bit disappointed to find out that these guys have been making music since 2003-- they have released three albums on the label Lidkercow, Ltd.-- because it makes me feel as though I've missed part of the journey. I always seem to discover great music after the group has been a well-established band for a number of years. But the two, more popular releases they've done under Sub Pop are fairly recent: Furr in 2008 and Black River Killer EP in 2009. Hopefully I'm not too far behind; indeed, whenever I stumble upon a band already with several releases under their belt, I feel the obsessive need to obtain ALL the material they have ever made RIGHT AWAY. This crazy urge I get made me quite poor when I began to love Bob Dylan. Damn you, Mr. Dylan, and your thirty-something studio albums. And damn you, also, Border's, for selling me over-priced CDs.
For now, I will contently listen to Blitzen Trapper's two Sub Pop releases on their Myspace until my internet browser breaks. Or until I feel the need to return to my true loves, Fleet Foxes. <3
Furr-
The local college radio station, Ithaca College's WICB, first introduced me to Blitzen Trapper by playing a few of their songs off their new album, Furr, over and over again (namely "Fire and Fast Bullets"). A few days ago, I heard "Furr," the title track, and couldn't get it out of my head. The song is amazing. I looked it up on YouTube, of course, and ended up listening to it about 15 times between yesterday and today. And that kind of dedication is surely love-- or at least fanaticism.
I don't know what it is about "Furr" that pulls me in headfirst, but I do know that the song is completely gorgeous. When I play the song, I feel like a wild creature, half-kid, half-animal, out on a romp through the wilderness. I feel like I should run past trees, up a mountain, and on the shore of a lake all while howling into a ghostly moon. Listening to the lyrics helps this vision, for the song is about an who's compelled to join a wolf pack out in the forest and subsequently turns into a wolf man. Then he ends up leaving it all behind to settle down on a farm with a phenomenal beauty and presumably becomes human again. It's a great story to interpret or just to escape in, and this is escapism is echoed in the incredible and relatable line "I still dream of running careless through the snow." Unless you are a snow-hater *narrows eyes* I don't know who wouldn't want to live this song, even only for a day.
It's not all incredibly folky; "Love You" starts off with the angriest power-scream (think a scream of aching desperation, not death metal). You can hear how much suffering is being caused from loving whatever cold individual the singer is trying to love, and this feeling is even emulated in the sorrowful, droopy groove that's playing behind the singer. Oh, and the vocal harmonies are dope, too.
This album just has so much to offer. You've got an easy-going piano ballad on "Not Your Lover" as well as on "Echo/Always On/Easy Con," which turns into this electronic, jazzy breakdown. Upbeat poppy songs are featured on "Gold For Bread" and "Fire and Fast Bullets" while country peeks through in "Stolen Shoes & a Rifle." It's incredible.
Oh, and did I forget to mention that "Lady On the Water" reminds me of Bob Dylan? Actually, I saved this tidbit of information for last because it is what makes me the most happy. (Yeah, I said I'm going through a phase. Will Folk music ever release me from it's stronghold? Not anytime soon, I reckon.)
I was just a bit disappointed to find out that these guys have been making music since 2003-- they have released three albums on the label Lidkercow, Ltd.-- because it makes me feel as though I've missed part of the journey. I always seem to discover great music after the group has been a well-established band for a number of years. But the two, more popular releases they've done under Sub Pop are fairly recent: Furr in 2008 and Black River Killer EP in 2009. Hopefully I'm not too far behind; indeed, whenever I stumble upon a band already with several releases under their belt, I feel the obsessive need to obtain ALL the material they have ever made RIGHT AWAY. This crazy urge I get made me quite poor when I began to love Bob Dylan. Damn you, Mr. Dylan, and your thirty-something studio albums. And damn you, also, Border's, for selling me over-priced CDs.
For now, I will contently listen to Blitzen Trapper's two Sub Pop releases on their Myspace until my internet browser breaks. Or until I feel the need to return to my true loves, Fleet Foxes. <3
Furr-
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
JOE'S HEAD
I'll lie and say I waited so long to make my next post because I was preparing to talk about this EPIC Kings of Leon song. EPIC.
But this would be a lie. I've just been incredibly busy. Between pneumonia, school, applying to higher level education, and going to Unity Studio, I've had my hands tied. But I am back and ready to gush about my favorite KOL song, the song that prompted me to find all these Youth and Young Manhood videos: Joe's Head.
Joe's Head is a tale, a journey, and a gnarly bar fight smooshed into one bouncingly energetic song. The bass line at the very beginning intrigues you and pulls you in, and then grooves underneath Caleb's wailing story for the whole song. Upon listening to the drums at the chorus, the listener is considering learning how to ho-down. The guitar lick following it definitely has them convinced, and they are already half way to buying that pair of cowboy boots. And all this is before you realize what Caleb's saying/singing/screaming in his Cartman voice.
This is not a happy song. Though I'm ecstatic every time I listen to it, I wouldn't want to be any of the characters in this song. Just listen to the chorus: "'This is just the way of the world,' Joe said/ 'I had to put a bullet into his head'/ And then lit up a cigarette/ Decided to call his fat friend, Fred/ Well he said 'Fred, I just killed a man/ Caught him layin' with my girlfriend/ And now they're both dead, people can be so cold, when they're dead.'"
Joe is obviously an unlucky fella with some anger issues that he unfortunately hasn't worked out. In his defense, he's been burned by his love and his best friend, and it sounds like whiskey leant his actions a helping hand. Yet he killed two people in cold blood, lit up a cigarette, and called his fat friend (I love that they feel the need to state he's fat) to chat about it. The story is morbidly hilarious when you finally figure out what Caleb, who has the tendency to mutter and mumble, is saying. On the first listen, one might think that a few lines into the song the lyrics go "Rain falls down a freezing/ Ass-kicking like a snow" which makes no sense. What ass-kicks like a snow? Then you have "Ring-a-ling suspicians, streaming in my hair/ Lies all mixed up with a bishop/ Oh welcome home again." The best part of the first few listens isn't even the mistaken lyrics; it's not even having remotely any idea, and just singing along on whatever vowel seems right. When I blasted this in my car shortly after I bought the CD, the chorus probably sounded something like "Ish a shumba wayotta whirl, Joe said, I otta pudding bullet into his head." Which is why it was good that I was driving alone, so no one had to hear my tragic sing-a-long.
I've included the real lyrics down below, and a few more I was mistaken on.
Blistered cracked and bleeding
Cold no one should know
Rain falls down a freezing
And sticking like a snow (Ass kicking like a snow)
Lingering suspicions (Ring-a-ling suspicians)
Screaming in my head (Streaming in my hair)
Lies all mixed up with omissions (Lies all mixed up with a bishop)
Aw welcome home again
It's too late for apologies they're falling at my feet
This is just the way of the world Joe said (I actually had no clue on the chorus-- yeah, I just really couldn't comprehend any words here the first few play-throughs)
I had to put a bullet into his head
Then lit up a cigarette
Decided to call his fat friend Fred
Well he said Fred I just killed a man
Caught him laying with my girlfriend
Now they're both dead, people can be so cold when they're dead
Calling all the neighbors (Calling all the babies)
Time to make amends (Time to make a man)
Whiskey floods the table
Aw good friends 'til the end
They're making silly faces and it's tasting bitter sweet
This is just the way of the world Joe said
I had to put a bullet into his head
Then lit up a cigarette
Decided to call his fat friend Fred
Well he said Fred I just killed a man
Caught him laying with my girlfriend
Now they're both dead, people can be so cold when they're dead
______________________________________________________________________________
Once you are aware of what's being said, the song is just so cool, especially as it progresses. The progression of the song is probably what I love most; the quiet and lazy beginning punches you in the face with the chorus so hard that you think "This can't get anymore exciting!" But you're wrong, because it gets much more exciting, indeed. By the last chorus, Caleb is absolutely shrieking, which only prompts you to do the same (and I do, even though I try to restrain myself every time) especially on the line "And lit up a CIGARETTE!!!" And by this time, you're dancing and doing air-punches and kicking walls and other inanimate objects and wishing you had a fat friend Fred of your own to call up and shriek to. Then the song ends-- at the height of all the hoop-la-- and you're left in awe of the greatness that just slapped you silly. Although you will feel compelled to listen to it three more times in a row, it's not any less awesome. In fact, it may even become your favorite song (says the unbiased critic on this side of the computer screen).
Have a listen and a watch.
But this would be a lie. I've just been incredibly busy. Between pneumonia, school, applying to higher level education, and going to Unity Studio, I've had my hands tied. But I am back and ready to gush about my favorite KOL song, the song that prompted me to find all these Youth and Young Manhood videos: Joe's Head.
Joe's Head is a tale, a journey, and a gnarly bar fight smooshed into one bouncingly energetic song. The bass line at the very beginning intrigues you and pulls you in, and then grooves underneath Caleb's wailing story for the whole song. Upon listening to the drums at the chorus, the listener is considering learning how to ho-down. The guitar lick following it definitely has them convinced, and they are already half way to buying that pair of cowboy boots. And all this is before you realize what Caleb's saying/singing/screaming in his Cartman voice.
This is not a happy song. Though I'm ecstatic every time I listen to it, I wouldn't want to be any of the characters in this song. Just listen to the chorus: "'This is just the way of the world,' Joe said/ 'I had to put a bullet into his head'/ And then lit up a cigarette/ Decided to call his fat friend, Fred/ Well he said 'Fred, I just killed a man/ Caught him layin' with my girlfriend/ And now they're both dead, people can be so cold, when they're dead.'"
Joe is obviously an unlucky fella with some anger issues that he unfortunately hasn't worked out. In his defense, he's been burned by his love and his best friend, and it sounds like whiskey leant his actions a helping hand. Yet he killed two people in cold blood, lit up a cigarette, and called his fat friend (I love that they feel the need to state he's fat) to chat about it. The story is morbidly hilarious when you finally figure out what Caleb, who has the tendency to mutter and mumble, is saying. On the first listen, one might think that a few lines into the song the lyrics go "Rain falls down a freezing/ Ass-kicking like a snow" which makes no sense. What ass-kicks like a snow? Then you have "Ring-a-ling suspicians, streaming in my hair/ Lies all mixed up with a bishop/ Oh welcome home again." The best part of the first few listens isn't even the mistaken lyrics; it's not even having remotely any idea, and just singing along on whatever vowel seems right. When I blasted this in my car shortly after I bought the CD, the chorus probably sounded something like "Ish a shumba wayotta whirl, Joe said, I otta pudding bullet into his head." Which is why it was good that I was driving alone, so no one had to hear my tragic sing-a-long.
I've included the real lyrics down below, and a few more I was mistaken on.
Blistered cracked and bleeding
Cold no one should know
Rain falls down a freezing
And sticking like a snow (Ass kicking like a snow)
Lingering suspicions (Ring-a-ling suspicians)
Screaming in my head (Streaming in my hair)
Lies all mixed up with omissions (Lies all mixed up with a bishop)
Aw welcome home again
It's too late for apologies they're falling at my feet
This is just the way of the world Joe said (I actually had no clue on the chorus-- yeah, I just really couldn't comprehend any words here the first few play-throughs)
I had to put a bullet into his head
Then lit up a cigarette
Decided to call his fat friend Fred
Well he said Fred I just killed a man
Caught him laying with my girlfriend
Now they're both dead, people can be so cold when they're dead
Calling all the neighbors (Calling all the babies)
Time to make amends (Time to make a man)
Whiskey floods the table
Aw good friends 'til the end
They're making silly faces and it's tasting bitter sweet
This is just the way of the world Joe said
I had to put a bullet into his head
Then lit up a cigarette
Decided to call his fat friend Fred
Well he said Fred I just killed a man
Caught him laying with my girlfriend
Now they're both dead, people can be so cold when they're dead
______________________________________________________________________________
Once you are aware of what's being said, the song is just so cool, especially as it progresses. The progression of the song is probably what I love most; the quiet and lazy beginning punches you in the face with the chorus so hard that you think "This can't get anymore exciting!" But you're wrong, because it gets much more exciting, indeed. By the last chorus, Caleb is absolutely shrieking, which only prompts you to do the same (and I do, even though I try to restrain myself every time) especially on the line "And lit up a CIGARETTE!!!" And by this time, you're dancing and doing air-punches and kicking walls and other inanimate objects and wishing you had a fat friend Fred of your own to call up and shriek to. Then the song ends-- at the height of all the hoop-la-- and you're left in awe of the greatness that just slapped you silly. Although you will feel compelled to listen to it three more times in a row, it's not any less awesome. In fact, it may even become your favorite song (says the unbiased critic on this side of the computer screen).
Have a listen and a watch.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Wasted Time
Wasted Time-- I do waste a vast amount of time on the internet, but this is not what I am discussing today. 'Wasted Time' is indeed track number three of the one and only Youth and Young Manhood. I was reminded of my project upon hearing 'Notion' on the radio today. While I chortled a dry laugh of sadness for the Kings of the past, I was still able to thank whatever higher being that is out there for the existence of recorded music, and Youtube to boot, for I can revisit this far-off era whenever I please. For instance, whenever I go driving and feel like blasting my ears with what can only be unhealthy decibels of music.
Wasted Time is in the same vein as Red Morning Light and Happy Alone. The similar tempos and lyrical themes along with the beat Nathan pounds out in the background cause me to refer to these songs as "the opening trilogy." Regarding the lyrics, you may notice that the Kings have gone from being tucked in between the dirty sheets to prancing around in high, high heels and cherry red lipstick; now, they've moved on to the fruit innuendo ("shakin' your apple right in my face) and have followed in the footsteps established by Steve Miller Band ("I really like your peaches/Wanna shake your tree," yadda yadda). Classifying myself as a feminist, I wonder if I should be offended or appalled at the Kings' use of women as sex objects or the mention of women getting taken advantage of, comparing them to apples, etc. etc. But I am not outraged in any way, shape or form, for the the tunes make me dance, the energy gets me excited, and the lyrics make me laugh. Imagining Caleb in high heels let alone prancing in them is kind of hilarious. Plus the fruit thing is miles better than, say, lady-lumps, or anything of that ridiculousness... Fergie. If I ever met that woman... but that should be saved for another post althogether.
2006 Big Day Out (Australia) performance, likely sometime in between Aha Shake Heartbreak and Because of the Times, judging solely on Caleb's hair.
Yes, you are seeing real, live, unaltered video, as far as I can tell. I mean, at first, I was nearly convinced that the vid must have been sped up, but then I decided they just chose to play an already ridiculously uptempo song at double time. Really, this is breakneck speed here. I'm expecting little whirlwind tornadoes to just pop up in between all of them and float around the stage for awhile. If I were the guys, I would want to turn around and punch Nathan right in his rhythm-driving face, yet none seem to mind.
Listening to the studio version, the speed is actually a hair slower, but I suppose that seeing the live performance just makes you appreciate how hard it must be all the more. I get out of breath just singing along.
What's the most exciting about my search is how I stumbled across a music video I never knew existed: the Wasted Time video seems like its the first video KOL ever made, and it basically involves the guys outside, playing in the woods, accompanied by some women as well as some half- and three-quarters- naked women running through these woods at night. It may be just a party gone wild and awry, but it could also be a homicidal-rape chase; it's all up to the interpretation. I'll let you decide for yourself.
Wasted Time is in the same vein as Red Morning Light and Happy Alone. The similar tempos and lyrical themes along with the beat Nathan pounds out in the background cause me to refer to these songs as "the opening trilogy." Regarding the lyrics, you may notice that the Kings have gone from being tucked in between the dirty sheets to prancing around in high, high heels and cherry red lipstick; now, they've moved on to the fruit innuendo ("shakin' your apple right in my face) and have followed in the footsteps established by Steve Miller Band ("I really like your peaches/Wanna shake your tree," yadda yadda). Classifying myself as a feminist, I wonder if I should be offended or appalled at the Kings' use of women as sex objects or the mention of women getting taken advantage of, comparing them to apples, etc. etc. But I am not outraged in any way, shape or form, for the the tunes make me dance, the energy gets me excited, and the lyrics make me laugh. Imagining Caleb in high heels let alone prancing in them is kind of hilarious. Plus the fruit thing is miles better than, say, lady-lumps, or anything of that ridiculousness... Fergie. If I ever met that woman... but that should be saved for another post althogether.
2006 Big Day Out (Australia) performance, likely sometime in between Aha Shake Heartbreak and Because of the Times, judging solely on Caleb's hair.
Yes, you are seeing real, live, unaltered video, as far as I can tell. I mean, at first, I was nearly convinced that the vid must have been sped up, but then I decided they just chose to play an already ridiculously uptempo song at double time. Really, this is breakneck speed here. I'm expecting little whirlwind tornadoes to just pop up in between all of them and float around the stage for awhile. If I were the guys, I would want to turn around and punch Nathan right in his rhythm-driving face, yet none seem to mind.
Listening to the studio version, the speed is actually a hair slower, but I suppose that seeing the live performance just makes you appreciate how hard it must be all the more. I get out of breath just singing along.
What's the most exciting about my search is how I stumbled across a music video I never knew existed: the Wasted Time video seems like its the first video KOL ever made, and it basically involves the guys outside, playing in the woods, accompanied by some women as well as some half- and three-quarters- naked women running through these woods at night. It may be just a party gone wild and awry, but it could also be a homicidal-rape chase; it's all up to the interpretation. I'll let you decide for yourself.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
I have returned, in full(ish) health!
Finally over my nasty, disgusting flu-- yep, I caught flu, according to the doc, though she didn't specify whether I had caught regular or swine flu. This disappointed me for some reason. But anyways.
On to the project-- which I DO aim to continue. I need to get up all the tracks, seriously, I've just been so swamped what with coughing up phlegm and whatnot; BUT, I want to take a quick diversion from the project, because this can't wait. Really. It takes full importance at the moment, pushing all of my attention aside.
What I am talking about is Karen O and the soundtrack for Where the Wild Things Are.
Ever since I learned about the movie Where the Wild Things Are, I was aware that Karen O was involved on the music side. I believe this excited me more than the movie itself (and I was one of those kids who read this book nightly, it seemed) because I love love love love LOVE Karen O. LOVE! Got it?
I saw Yeah Yeah Yeahs perform in August of this year, which was pretty rad. That's an understatement, as it was actually the best show I've ever seen. The energy of the performances was just so heightened, all the way through; the small venue (it was a tiny club that had been made out of renovating an old Rite Aid) probably helped the audience connect with the band even more. I completely love the band so when I found out about her new project, I couldn't wait.
Today I had begun my usual activity of browsing Youtube and stumbled across this wonderful "Making of the Soundtrack" vid featuring Where the Wild Things Are director Spike Jonze, along with the lovely Karen O herself and a few crazy kids who sing on the songs.
This video had me giggling like a fan-girl (which may or may not be contributed to the fact that it was 11:30, I'd just woken up, and was extremely giddy) over the Karen O interview; plus, seeing her work with those kids was hilarious, just because she is so child-like herself (she always dances around onstage like a 7-year-old and it's not out of place for her to break out into random laughter mid-song). Yet the short glimpses of the beautiful new songs were what really made me smile; tracks such as "Hideaway" and the peek at Max howling. It's just so cool what they encouraged those kids to do, and it almost made me wish I was 10 and lucky enough to be invited to Karen O's studio...........................*envious*
I'd heard "All is Love" a few days ago on another Youtube binge, but it hadn't hit me until watching this interview that the soundtrack had already been released on Tuesday of this past week. This led me to another search. And of course, thanks to my superior scouring skills, I easily found half of the soundtrack. Amazon tells me there are fourteen songs in all, but you can listen to the first seven which have been posted by some kind soul (although part of me HATES this kind soul, just a little bit, because he neglected to post songs 8-14...). But here's the first song; click on it and it should take you to a Youtube playlist of what's available.
It all sounds quite childlike, probably helped by the kids recruited to make the soundtrack so. Standout tracks include Capsize (don't let the handclaps fool you... this song is awesome and could be mistaken for a Yeah Yeah Yeahs song, perhaps if they made a concept album about going to outerspace or something). Worried Shoes is soft and mindblowing as well, and it's apparently a cover of Dan Johnston. Karen O's voice sounds beautiful and amazing as always, yet it's obvious that she's taking a different approach than anything she's ever done before for YYYs. For one, her voice emits a crystal clear innocence that emulates the message of this story; before I've only seen her as sexy, wailing about cold lights and hot nights and heaters and lovers and doing it to each other. Secondly, she's accompanied sounds I've never heard before. There's no Brian Chase banging drums behind her or Nick Zinner swinging with his guitar beside her (although I read somewhere that they were also recruited to help on the soundtrack). Instead, she's backed by vibes, windchimes, sounds of the sea, children's voices, and even some dialogue from the movie (Rumpus, for example). It's magical, to say the least, and I can't even imagine how magical it will make the movie.
Needless to say, I'll be purchasing this soundtrack SOON. I could listen to the seven currently available tracks all day, and seven more will likely do my head in. I now love Karen O even more, and I didn't know that was possible. CHECK OUT KAREN O AND THE KIDS. Out now. You'll love it.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Track #2
If it seems as though I've given up on my project, fear not! I've just had an incredibly busy/yucky week-- busy in that I started going to free classes at a local recording studio, and yucky in that I've been sick since Wednesday. It hasn't been one of those "skip school and screw around at home" types of illnesses. It's been more along the lines of me passed out on the couch, exhausting my DVR while coughing up both my lungs into a bowl. So yeah, this week's been a blast.
I am back now, giving my blog a hearty hello (although I don't get anything in return because nobody ever leaves me any pretty comments) and continuing what I said I'd do. So now, I post the second track off Youth and Young Manhood, titled Happy Alone, in Youtube form.
It's a swell video. Shot in a studio in London, in 2003, when the boys were still grungy, young and manic, this high quality video gives a glimpse of the boys when they were unknown nobodies, just starting out on the road. In fact this era of Kings of Leon is still relatively unknown to those individuals who only know them by "Sex on Fire" and "Use Somebody." Sure, now the boys are becoming megastars, and though anyone listening to the Top 40 could claim to be familiar with KOL, it doesn't mean they remember where it all started.
The Kings began in Nashville, with Caleb and Nathan, who had moved away from their preacher father and were trying to make it with music. They had to call up their sixteen year old brother Jared and the not-much-older cousin Matthew to help out, but in making it, they succeeded. And then the boys started making the nasty rebellious country-rock that dominated Youth and Young Manhood.
Happy Alone fits right in at spot number two. It's got that chugging groove and the sleazy lyrics and the rawness of a band that's just come together (they really just had; I believe a few instruments had to be studied and learned before the band really took off). It alerts the listener that the sexiness/borderline raunchiness isn't going to disappear and that a testosterone tsunami is going to be unleashed in the next nine tracks (if you count Caleb singing about dancing around in high heels and cherry-red lipstick as manly). Regardless, it sure brings on a load of excitement.
Give this track a listen. It embodies the spirit of KOL back when, before all the fans who originally purchased this album and listened to this song 806 times began whining about Only By the Night. We get it. They sound different now. But I dare you to listen to Revelry, Manhattan and especially Cold Desert, and argue with me that these aren't gorgeous, chilled-out southern-rock grooves Caleb wails to in that drawl of his (and I say especially Cold Desert, because that must be the saddest, chillest, wailing, lazy groove). What am I getting at, you ask? Shush and appreciate, please. I love these fellas.
I am back now, giving my blog a hearty hello (although I don't get anything in return because nobody ever leaves me any pretty comments) and continuing what I said I'd do. So now, I post the second track off Youth and Young Manhood, titled Happy Alone, in Youtube form.
It's a swell video. Shot in a studio in London, in 2003, when the boys were still grungy, young and manic, this high quality video gives a glimpse of the boys when they were unknown nobodies, just starting out on the road. In fact this era of Kings of Leon is still relatively unknown to those individuals who only know them by "Sex on Fire" and "Use Somebody." Sure, now the boys are becoming megastars, and though anyone listening to the Top 40 could claim to be familiar with KOL, it doesn't mean they remember where it all started.
The Kings began in Nashville, with Caleb and Nathan, who had moved away from their preacher father and were trying to make it with music. They had to call up their sixteen year old brother Jared and the not-much-older cousin Matthew to help out, but in making it, they succeeded. And then the boys started making the nasty rebellious country-rock that dominated Youth and Young Manhood.
Happy Alone fits right in at spot number two. It's got that chugging groove and the sleazy lyrics and the rawness of a band that's just come together (they really just had; I believe a few instruments had to be studied and learned before the band really took off). It alerts the listener that the sexiness/borderline raunchiness isn't going to disappear and that a testosterone tsunami is going to be unleashed in the next nine tracks (if you count Caleb singing about dancing around in high heels and cherry-red lipstick as manly). Regardless, it sure brings on a load of excitement.
Give this track a listen. It embodies the spirit of KOL back when, before all the fans who originally purchased this album and listened to this song 806 times began whining about Only By the Night. We get it. They sound different now. But I dare you to listen to Revelry, Manhattan and especially Cold Desert, and argue with me that these aren't gorgeous, chilled-out southern-rock grooves Caleb wails to in that drawl of his (and I say especially Cold Desert, because that must be the saddest, chillest, wailing, lazy groove). What am I getting at, you ask? Shush and appreciate, please. I love these fellas.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
New Project
Back in 2003, a little band by the name of Kings of Leon dropped their first album and made their presence known to the world. I, at the time, was eleven, so their presence was still unknown to me as I was likely listening to Avril Lavigne or some other atrocity. But I caught on eventually and fell in love with the band of brothers and that cousin of theirs, along with the four albums they've released to date. Looking back, though, it is surprising how I first regarded Youth and Young Manhood, the stellar debut from the boys; I was indifferent. It didn't rub me the wrong way but I didn't fall in love with it either-- not upon the first listen anyways. Now it has grown on me so much that it's made its way into my top 5 CD rotation, a coveted spot all the CDs in my car WISH they could be in. And nothing is better than driving down the road singing in your best "Caleb voice" to Joe's Head. Nothing.
I come to you now, ready and willing, if not eager, if not frothing at the mouth, to share with you Youth and Young Manhood. This is when the boys were hairy; before they were superstars screaming about fiery sex; before they played The Today Show; before they grew up. I still love them now, but oh my, were they hot when they first started out (in the musical sense.. though in the physical sense, as well). So, I'm going to scour youtube (my favorite hobby) and find, track by track, the best live performances of these songs. It'll be fun. And it will help me kill so much time I could spend doing something progressive. But here goes...
Everybody loves Jools Holland.
Red Morning Light is the staunch, dirty, southern, energetic opener and a classic example of the boys' style 6 years ago; Caleb's mumbling and growling almost incoherently through the lyrics, not allowing you to hear how dirty they really are; Jared's about 16 and always seem to be brimming with energy and excitement; Matthew gives facemelting solos; Nathan's singing just as heartily as Caleb in his southern drawl. The boys were brand new to bandhood-- it seems that Matthew was a little rusty on guitar, and Jared didn't even know how to play bass, yet they certainly came together pretty quickly. The haphazardness of their Youth and Young Manhood songs only add to the excitement, really, and these songs really wouldn't work if they were clean. I mean, Caleb's talking about an individual who "couldn't take it on the tightrope, no you had to take it on the side," and then they apparently give all their cinnamon away. You can't see that music being crystal clear and snazzy and sharp; although they are pretty sharp, in the sense that their music is so tight (seriously, they are amazing amazing amazing live performers... and I would like to see them sometime SOON).
So please, take some time, watch this three minute segment; remember this is only a sample for there is much more dirtyness yet to come.
I come to you now, ready and willing, if not eager, if not frothing at the mouth, to share with you Youth and Young Manhood. This is when the boys were hairy; before they were superstars screaming about fiery sex; before they played The Today Show; before they grew up. I still love them now, but oh my, were they hot when they first started out (in the musical sense.. though in the physical sense, as well). So, I'm going to scour youtube (my favorite hobby) and find, track by track, the best live performances of these songs. It'll be fun. And it will help me kill so much time I could spend doing something progressive. But here goes...
Everybody loves Jools Holland.
Red Morning Light is the staunch, dirty, southern, energetic opener and a classic example of the boys' style 6 years ago; Caleb's mumbling and growling almost incoherently through the lyrics, not allowing you to hear how dirty they really are; Jared's about 16 and always seem to be brimming with energy and excitement; Matthew gives facemelting solos; Nathan's singing just as heartily as Caleb in his southern drawl. The boys were brand new to bandhood-- it seems that Matthew was a little rusty on guitar, and Jared didn't even know how to play bass, yet they certainly came together pretty quickly. The haphazardness of their Youth and Young Manhood songs only add to the excitement, really, and these songs really wouldn't work if they were clean. I mean, Caleb's talking about an individual who "couldn't take it on the tightrope, no you had to take it on the side," and then they apparently give all their cinnamon away. You can't see that music being crystal clear and snazzy and sharp; although they are pretty sharp, in the sense that their music is so tight (seriously, they are amazing amazing amazing live performers... and I would like to see them sometime SOON).
So please, take some time, watch this three minute segment; remember this is only a sample for there is much more dirtyness yet to come.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
not having followers
Eeek, the good thing about having no followers on this blog is being able to log on the next day and fix all that was appalling about my grammar the night before. Edit, edit, edit.
New Sleep Schedule
It is September- that time of the year when you sharpen your pencils and organize your folders and head back to school (if you happen to be a student). One of the many unfortunate things about the new school year is that I can't be up, say on a Wednesday night at 3:42 am, internet browsing. This is due to the fact that I must pry my eyes open and detach myself from my wonderful bed at 6:20 in the morning in order to get ready for the day. Basically, my browsing sessions are now limited to the weekends.
Tonight, I'm checking out songs from my favorite new guy who happens to be covering my favorite classic guy. I am listening to two renditions of It Ain't Me Babe, interpreted by Robin Pecknold and penned by Bob Dylan. The first is a recording that Robin put together (with majestic voices from above, whatever it is that you believe above to be) under his pseudonym "White Antelope." Accompanied by only a guitar, he fills the song with what I am guessing are three swirling vocal harmonies, but he's captured such an echo-y sound that it makes sense to think that there are thirteen Robin Pecknold voices stuffed into that song. All is breathtaking until you come to the chorus and hear the "no, no, no!" part that Dylan is well-known for shouting; well, Robin's done his own wacky version of these three words. At first, you think maybe he's out of tune. Maybe his falsetto quivers during this part. Maybe the chords were harmonized wrong. But all the choruses are sung the same. So I started to wonder if this was maybe a homage to Dylan's wild vocal contortions at this part of the song. Or maybe Robin just decided to pen a funky chord here, to make it interesting. There's no arguing that it doesn't stand out. The oddness even grows on you; "no, no, no!", that point where you're violently pushing the subject of the song away, almost sounds manic, so I guess that the climax of the song is indeed delivered.
Here is the vid- scroll for the next.
What I then listened to was an apparently live version (according to youtube) that occurred at a BBC session. Robin again performed solo, yet this version was much more true to the original; though I do recognize that his throat cannot emit 2 pitches at once. It is a lovely cover; there is no doubt that he can sing perfectly in tune, and the cover is a bit more subdued than his recorded version. Nothing sounds frenzied during the chorus, only tired.
It was actually Robin Pecknold's love for Bob Dylan that posessed me pick up Freewheelin', The Times They Are A-Changin', and Bringing it All Back Home while walking through my local Border's. Back when Robin was briefly a Twitterer (the only reason I joined and remained on Twitter for around 3-4 months) he would rant and rave about his favorite artists, including Dylan. I remember one time when he linked to a duet of Joan and Bob singing It Ain't Me Babe and stating how he loved It's Alright Ma, I'm Only Bleeding. This prompted me to check out both Dylan and Baez and fueled me on my journey of going broke buying old CDs.
People often ask why I got so into Dylan, because now I rant and rave about him, and I even got the chance to see him in August. To these questions, I rarely respond. I feel like such a stalker talking about how I, well, stalked Robin Pecknold's twitter for several months and ended up enjoying what he recommended. I feel as though I may be accused of liking what the frontman of my favorite band likes just because he is the frontman of my favorite band. Twitter also just made me feel so skeeved out; it's purpose really is to just "follow" (stalk) celebrities. It must have made Robin feel skeeved as well because he promptly quit one day, later joining under a new account only for a select number of family and friends (and this is when I quit, because I really WAS stalking the guy.. oh no..). But I'll still be grateful and always remember how it was a person I idolize who turned me onto another person I idolize. I'm not going to say it changed my life because that phrase always sounds so cheesy to me, but music does touch you in ways that are indescribable. Bob Dylan's music certainly did this for me, shortly after the much younger artists of Fleet Foxes had. And somehow, I've seen Dylan live before my introducer, though I would very much like to get a move-on on seeing the latter. Fleet Foxes have got to come back from Europe, first.
And so I leave you with this.
*EDIT: Oh man, copyright laws, you tear at my heart. Why must you take down my favorite videos? Well, I'll post two more that will more than make up for what's missing.
Oh Mr. Dylan, you're a wonder. How do you reinterpret YOUR OWN SONGS so successfully? Excuse me while I gush.
Tonight, I'm checking out songs from my favorite new guy who happens to be covering my favorite classic guy. I am listening to two renditions of It Ain't Me Babe, interpreted by Robin Pecknold and penned by Bob Dylan. The first is a recording that Robin put together (with majestic voices from above, whatever it is that you believe above to be) under his pseudonym "White Antelope." Accompanied by only a guitar, he fills the song with what I am guessing are three swirling vocal harmonies, but he's captured such an echo-y sound that it makes sense to think that there are thirteen Robin Pecknold voices stuffed into that song. All is breathtaking until you come to the chorus and hear the "no, no, no!" part that Dylan is well-known for shouting; well, Robin's done his own wacky version of these three words. At first, you think maybe he's out of tune. Maybe his falsetto quivers during this part. Maybe the chords were harmonized wrong. But all the choruses are sung the same. So I started to wonder if this was maybe a homage to Dylan's wild vocal contortions at this part of the song. Or maybe Robin just decided to pen a funky chord here, to make it interesting. There's no arguing that it doesn't stand out. The oddness even grows on you; "no, no, no!", that point where you're violently pushing the subject of the song away, almost sounds manic, so I guess that the climax of the song is indeed delivered.
Here is the vid- scroll for the next.
What I then listened to was an apparently live version (according to youtube) that occurred at a BBC session. Robin again performed solo, yet this version was much more true to the original; though I do recognize that his throat cannot emit 2 pitches at once. It is a lovely cover; there is no doubt that he can sing perfectly in tune, and the cover is a bit more subdued than his recorded version. Nothing sounds frenzied during the chorus, only tired.
It was actually Robin Pecknold's love for Bob Dylan that posessed me pick up Freewheelin', The Times They Are A-Changin', and Bringing it All Back Home while walking through my local Border's. Back when Robin was briefly a Twitterer (the only reason I joined and remained on Twitter for around 3-4 months) he would rant and rave about his favorite artists, including Dylan. I remember one time when he linked to a duet of Joan and Bob singing It Ain't Me Babe and stating how he loved It's Alright Ma, I'm Only Bleeding. This prompted me to check out both Dylan and Baez and fueled me on my journey of going broke buying old CDs.
People often ask why I got so into Dylan, because now I rant and rave about him, and I even got the chance to see him in August. To these questions, I rarely respond. I feel like such a stalker talking about how I, well, stalked Robin Pecknold's twitter for several months and ended up enjoying what he recommended. I feel as though I may be accused of liking what the frontman of my favorite band likes just because he is the frontman of my favorite band. Twitter also just made me feel so skeeved out; it's purpose really is to just "follow" (stalk) celebrities. It must have made Robin feel skeeved as well because he promptly quit one day, later joining under a new account only for a select number of family and friends (and this is when I quit, because I really WAS stalking the guy.. oh no..). But I'll still be grateful and always remember how it was a person I idolize who turned me onto another person I idolize. I'm not going to say it changed my life because that phrase always sounds so cheesy to me, but music does touch you in ways that are indescribable. Bob Dylan's music certainly did this for me, shortly after the much younger artists of Fleet Foxes had. And somehow, I've seen Dylan live before my introducer, though I would very much like to get a move-on on seeing the latter. Fleet Foxes have got to come back from Europe, first.
And so I leave you with this.
*EDIT: Oh man, copyright laws, you tear at my heart. Why must you take down my favorite videos? Well, I'll post two more that will more than make up for what's missing.
Oh Mr. Dylan, you're a wonder. How do you reinterpret YOUR OWN SONGS so successfully? Excuse me while I gush.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Expanding on my assessment
Have you ever played to an audience before? Have you ever tried to recreate a song for tens, hundreds, or thousands of individuals sitting in the dark room in front of you?
It is terrifying. It is not like recorded music; you cannot make it perfect and consider yourself done, because live music is not that simple. Live music is a beast of its own; you can drill and drill and drill and yet it well never reach the level of perfection you want it to be at. It will never sound like the recording you are attempting to embody, and it will never leave you one-hundred percent satisfied. You will always nervously scan the audience after the performance is finished, searching their eyes for judgement and dissatisfaction. The feeling is as if you have just plummeted through the floor yet your stomach has remained in your chair, left to fend for itself. It's not pleasant.
Sure, you experience that rush of excitement when you hit all the right notes in a sixteenth-note run; when you nail the syncopation; when you and your partner play in unison and in tune; and then you fudge one accidental, which ruins the whole night for you.
Is it crazy that performers are so hard on themselves? Surely it would be more crazy if they weren't; how can anybody be pleased after the ordeal that is a live show? The night is a tight knot of stress, anxiety, frustration, and sweat that remains with you for those thirty to forty-five minutes. The only thing to look forward to is the surprise that someone actually enjoyed the show; that somebody actually connected and applauded and smiled at you. Somebody actually came up and shook your hand, congratulated you and left pleased. And yet performers are at home the next day, drilling and drilling and drilling.
I don't know how music could ever get recorded, what with musicians being such perfectionists. I guess that's why it takes years for a new album to become complete. All that fine-tuning must be agony. But it would also be quite satisfying, to achieve exactly what you are envisioning. It's entirely different from that dark world where pairs of eyeballs stare at you across a dimly lit room. It's just you- your band mates- your producer- and your equipment. Don't worry, nobody's watching. We're here all day. You can have as many takes as you want. Don't sweat it if it's not perfect just yet. We can fine tune it until it sounds TOO good.
Recorded music is a completely separate being from the world of live music. It's perfection in 10 to 14 tracks. It's a beautiful story told from beginning to end through an album. So why do we still insist on seeing our favorite musicians perform live? We have all we need. We have all the songs they will play for us at the show on our CDs, our vinyl, our iPods, our computers, our internet... what more are they going to give us?
I must say, I simply believe us consumers are a cruel brand of individuals. I know that whenever I see a show, the biggest criteria I judge is if they put on a good live performance. Does it sound like the record? Is the band in sync as well as in tune? Can they pull off the solo note for note, beat for beat? Will they add in anything that wows me? Will they blow me away? Will I still love them after this?
We put a lot of stock into our favorite musicians, artists, performers and bands. We want them to succeed, but not for them: for us. If they fail, our taste has failed. We will no longer see them in the same light. We will be disappointed. While this can turn unfortunate, it does serve the purpose of adding the element of sheer excitement to a show. If the artists CAN wow us, if they CAN pull off anything and more, well, then we're screaming at the top of our lungs. We're going hysterical. We can't believe it. It's extraordinary; out of this world; an impossible feat. This intensity is what we go to see. We want to be exhilarated in a way that only live shows can exhilarate us.
The consumer needs this excitement to keep pulling them to a concert. The musician needs the consumers to keep buying their recordings so they can continue to escape to the world of musical perfection. The concerts need to happen to convince the consumer that this is an artist worthy of their support. The circle goes 'round and 'round, leaving the consumer the judge and the musician beggar. Each night, the lights go off and the spotlight appears-- the musician takes his or her place, looks into the darkness, and prays that they hit each cruel sharp that was added in the bridge; that their voice doesn't crack when they aim for that reach; that they don't come off as too nervous, even though their palms are too sweaty to hold their instruments steady; and that finally, the crowd is actually congratulatory and leaves for home with a smile plastered upon their face, now truly pleased that their music choice has been justified.
It is terrifying. It is not like recorded music; you cannot make it perfect and consider yourself done, because live music is not that simple. Live music is a beast of its own; you can drill and drill and drill and yet it well never reach the level of perfection you want it to be at. It will never sound like the recording you are attempting to embody, and it will never leave you one-hundred percent satisfied. You will always nervously scan the audience after the performance is finished, searching their eyes for judgement and dissatisfaction. The feeling is as if you have just plummeted through the floor yet your stomach has remained in your chair, left to fend for itself. It's not pleasant.
Sure, you experience that rush of excitement when you hit all the right notes in a sixteenth-note run; when you nail the syncopation; when you and your partner play in unison and in tune; and then you fudge one accidental, which ruins the whole night for you.
Is it crazy that performers are so hard on themselves? Surely it would be more crazy if they weren't; how can anybody be pleased after the ordeal that is a live show? The night is a tight knot of stress, anxiety, frustration, and sweat that remains with you for those thirty to forty-five minutes. The only thing to look forward to is the surprise that someone actually enjoyed the show; that somebody actually connected and applauded and smiled at you. Somebody actually came up and shook your hand, congratulated you and left pleased. And yet performers are at home the next day, drilling and drilling and drilling.
I don't know how music could ever get recorded, what with musicians being such perfectionists. I guess that's why it takes years for a new album to become complete. All that fine-tuning must be agony. But it would also be quite satisfying, to achieve exactly what you are envisioning. It's entirely different from that dark world where pairs of eyeballs stare at you across a dimly lit room. It's just you- your band mates- your producer- and your equipment. Don't worry, nobody's watching. We're here all day. You can have as many takes as you want. Don't sweat it if it's not perfect just yet. We can fine tune it until it sounds TOO good.
Recorded music is a completely separate being from the world of live music. It's perfection in 10 to 14 tracks. It's a beautiful story told from beginning to end through an album. So why do we still insist on seeing our favorite musicians perform live? We have all we need. We have all the songs they will play for us at the show on our CDs, our vinyl, our iPods, our computers, our internet... what more are they going to give us?
I must say, I simply believe us consumers are a cruel brand of individuals. I know that whenever I see a show, the biggest criteria I judge is if they put on a good live performance. Does it sound like the record? Is the band in sync as well as in tune? Can they pull off the solo note for note, beat for beat? Will they add in anything that wows me? Will they blow me away? Will I still love them after this?
We put a lot of stock into our favorite musicians, artists, performers and bands. We want them to succeed, but not for them: for us. If they fail, our taste has failed. We will no longer see them in the same light. We will be disappointed. While this can turn unfortunate, it does serve the purpose of adding the element of sheer excitement to a show. If the artists CAN wow us, if they CAN pull off anything and more, well, then we're screaming at the top of our lungs. We're going hysterical. We can't believe it. It's extraordinary; out of this world; an impossible feat. This intensity is what we go to see. We want to be exhilarated in a way that only live shows can exhilarate us.
The consumer needs this excitement to keep pulling them to a concert. The musician needs the consumers to keep buying their recordings so they can continue to escape to the world of musical perfection. The concerts need to happen to convince the consumer that this is an artist worthy of their support. The circle goes 'round and 'round, leaving the consumer the judge and the musician beggar. Each night, the lights go off and the spotlight appears-- the musician takes his or her place, looks into the darkness, and prays that they hit each cruel sharp that was added in the bridge; that their voice doesn't crack when they aim for that reach; that they don't come off as too nervous, even though their palms are too sweaty to hold their instruments steady; and that finally, the crowd is actually congratulatory and leaves for home with a smile plastered upon their face, now truly pleased that their music choice has been justified.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
An assessment of my time here, so far.
At this point and time, the wall I have been blogging to has likely realized that I'm a bit of a music nut (if walls can come to realizations such as this one). Well, if it has, it is correct, and if it has not, it must be a very thick wall.
It is true. Music is my favorite hobby, for a lack of a better word, because it is a hobby I hold near and dear to me and could not imagine living without. I wake up to music. I get ready for the day with music. It's my favorite part about driving. I spend all day with songs and melodies flowing through my head while I eagerly await the time I can get away and listen to more of it.
Music has such a powerful attraction. Even if a person knows zilch about music, they will still find a small pebble of entertainment in the larger work. Understanding it, however, is an entirely different matter.
Music is complex. How could it not be? Musicians need to create a parallel between themselves and the song; they must transfer an element of immense importance into music, whether the element is important solely to themselves or important to the whole world. This is a talent which cannot be learned; otherwise the performance is fake, copycat, or a joke.
This is why I believe the art of music is so special; it requires work from both sides. Yes, the artists works immeasurably hard in order to create their masterpieces, but the listener has to put in the work of listening and relating to them. It's no secret that the listeners get the easy job. We are the consumers, while the musicians must provide.
I'm grateful for every single provision I've ever come across, and take solace in the fact that they will always be there for me. Recorded songs never change. Every listen is exactly the same as the first time it was heard, and offers the same elements each time. Whenever I need to listen to a song that makes me feel a certain way, I can find it time and time again. Yet the magic of songs is that even though every listen is identical, the experience is still fluid. New elements can appear upon the third, fourth, or seventieth listen; new meanings can be discovered, new feelings come forth, new experiences can be made. Though even as the song evolves, there will always be that coziness, that familiarity, that nostalgia. It will always be there to do what you want it to, and that is a great offering that can never disappear.
It is true. Music is my favorite hobby, for a lack of a better word, because it is a hobby I hold near and dear to me and could not imagine living without. I wake up to music. I get ready for the day with music. It's my favorite part about driving. I spend all day with songs and melodies flowing through my head while I eagerly await the time I can get away and listen to more of it.
Music has such a powerful attraction. Even if a person knows zilch about music, they will still find a small pebble of entertainment in the larger work. Understanding it, however, is an entirely different matter.
Music is complex. How could it not be? Musicians need to create a parallel between themselves and the song; they must transfer an element of immense importance into music, whether the element is important solely to themselves or important to the whole world. This is a talent which cannot be learned; otherwise the performance is fake, copycat, or a joke.
This is why I believe the art of music is so special; it requires work from both sides. Yes, the artists works immeasurably hard in order to create their masterpieces, but the listener has to put in the work of listening and relating to them. It's no secret that the listeners get the easy job. We are the consumers, while the musicians must provide.
I'm grateful for every single provision I've ever come across, and take solace in the fact that they will always be there for me. Recorded songs never change. Every listen is exactly the same as the first time it was heard, and offers the same elements each time. Whenever I need to listen to a song that makes me feel a certain way, I can find it time and time again. Yet the magic of songs is that even though every listen is identical, the experience is still fluid. New elements can appear upon the third, fourth, or seventieth listen; new meanings can be discovered, new feelings come forth, new experiences can be made. Though even as the song evolves, there will always be that coziness, that familiarity, that nostalgia. It will always be there to do what you want it to, and that is a great offering that can never disappear.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Christmas talk already- this time concerning... Bob Dylan?
For the past few days, I've been sitting on the information that Bob Dylan will be releasing a Christmas album on October 13, trying to take it all in. My first thoughts were "Woah, so he's Christian again?" and then "WOAH, how are Bob Dylan's rough-as-nail vocals going to sound to little Jimmy on Christmas Eve as he bops to some 'Must Be Santa?' Grinch-like?"
I never expected Bob Dylan to follow in the footsteps of artists such as Mariah Carey or Amy Grant and make a Christmas Compilation, so I did a quadruple take when I first heard this. Though I shouldn't be surprised, because Bob Dylan is the type of artist who always launches an atomic-bomb sized surprise and then acts like it was just a hiccup. Just another thing Bob can pull out of thin air and pull off flawlessly. Sure, it might not resonate with his entire audience, but that's millions of people isn't it? And Dylan's no people-pleaser.
Oh, and by a simple twist of fate, all royalties will go to the charity Feeding America, so if you're hungry this holiday season, don't think twice, it's alright. He's gotta serve somebody and he might as well sing his Christmas ballads for all those thin men out there who need some shelter from the storm, the hurricanes and the buckets of rain. Dry your tears, sad-eyed lady of the lowlands.
I'm sorry.
http://www.bobdylan.com/#/news/christmas-heart-be-released-october-13
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Some brand-spanking new music.
About 5 minutes ago my facebook sent me a message from The Fall of Troy's fan page, alerting me that if I signed up on the mailing list on http://www.thefalloftroy.com/ then I could download their new song for free. So of course I signed up and downloaded.
The new song is called "Panic Attack!" off the album In The Unlikely Event, out October 6. I've been a fan of The Fall of Troy for awhile, ever since a few boys I used to hang out with ranted and raved about them and harassed me until I listened to them. I'll be frank; I hated them at first. The lead singer, Thomas Erak, was very screamy, and I wasn't into that at all. Yet some inexplicable quality led me back a second and a third time, and I began to dig Thomas's shrill scream, and more than that, the amazing layers and layers of guitars. Seriously, what is done with a guitar on The Fall of Troy songs is unbelievable. The notes whip around at break-neck speed with a carnal energy that makes you want to punch a wall. If you were ever to get into any kind of "screamo" at all, this would be the band to do it with. And hey, sometimes Thomas even sings, and his voice isn't half bad.
Within a few months I'd bought Doppelganger, their second full-length album, and played that to death. I even downloaded a few of their other songs, like the demo version of Macaulay McCulkin (a song which follows a stalker/murderer storyline... it's quite creepy, intense, and crazy) and Reassurance Rests in the Sea (which has a break down in the middle that really does sound like you're scuba diving in the middle of the ocean).
Then their next disc came out, Manipulator, and this release brought forth whining fans with it. Me being only a slightly-more-involved casual fan enjoyed Manipulator. The guitars still slapped you in the face and everything sounded a bit more experimental; different elements of sound were used, including electronic, synth, and jazz. And Thomas stopped shredding his vocals and carried a damn good tune throughout most of the songs (screaming was still of course in existence). But fans moaned and complained that The Fall of Troy is now "soft," they've "changed," blah blah blah whimper. "Caught Up," a jazzy, stripped down little number, featuring Thomas almost crooning, probably didn't help, but every other track still sounded like it would punch every baby and grandmother that it came across in the face, and it would enjoy it. I mean, the band refers to themselves as "progressive" and "experimental," and they were surely progressing and experimenting at an alarming rate; they just brought together many musical qualities that old fans were in no way familiar with.
But back to the new record. The song has just been released early by the band today though it's no surprise it's already on youtube. Thomas's vocals sound pretty incredible, in my opinion, and halfway through he's joined by another beautiful woman's voice. And if you've never heard The Fall of Troy before, take a listen and you'll get what I'm talking about with the guitars. Seriously, if you aren't even blown away by how much talent it takes to play that way... you don't have to enjoy it, but at least appreciate it.
The new song is called "Panic Attack!" off the album In The Unlikely Event, out October 6. I've been a fan of The Fall of Troy for awhile, ever since a few boys I used to hang out with ranted and raved about them and harassed me until I listened to them. I'll be frank; I hated them at first. The lead singer, Thomas Erak, was very screamy, and I wasn't into that at all. Yet some inexplicable quality led me back a second and a third time, and I began to dig Thomas's shrill scream, and more than that, the amazing layers and layers of guitars. Seriously, what is done with a guitar on The Fall of Troy songs is unbelievable. The notes whip around at break-neck speed with a carnal energy that makes you want to punch a wall. If you were ever to get into any kind of "screamo" at all, this would be the band to do it with. And hey, sometimes Thomas even sings, and his voice isn't half bad.
Within a few months I'd bought Doppelganger, their second full-length album, and played that to death. I even downloaded a few of their other songs, like the demo version of Macaulay McCulkin (a song which follows a stalker/murderer storyline... it's quite creepy, intense, and crazy) and Reassurance Rests in the Sea (which has a break down in the middle that really does sound like you're scuba diving in the middle of the ocean).
Then their next disc came out, Manipulator, and this release brought forth whining fans with it. Me being only a slightly-more-involved casual fan enjoyed Manipulator. The guitars still slapped you in the face and everything sounded a bit more experimental; different elements of sound were used, including electronic, synth, and jazz. And Thomas stopped shredding his vocals and carried a damn good tune throughout most of the songs (screaming was still of course in existence). But fans moaned and complained that The Fall of Troy is now "soft," they've "changed," blah blah blah whimper. "Caught Up," a jazzy, stripped down little number, featuring Thomas almost crooning, probably didn't help, but every other track still sounded like it would punch every baby and grandmother that it came across in the face, and it would enjoy it. I mean, the band refers to themselves as "progressive" and "experimental," and they were surely progressing and experimenting at an alarming rate; they just brought together many musical qualities that old fans were in no way familiar with.
But back to the new record. The song has just been released early by the band today though it's no surprise it's already on youtube. Thomas's vocals sound pretty incredible, in my opinion, and halfway through he's joined by another beautiful woman's voice. And if you've never heard The Fall of Troy before, take a listen and you'll get what I'm talking about with the guitars. Seriously, if you aren't even blown away by how much talent it takes to play that way... you don't have to enjoy it, but at least appreciate it.
Here's the mind-numbing new track.
Recorded Music Purists
You may listen to this lovely song while reading, if you wish. I would recommend it.
Today I woke up to a seemingly ordinary day; yet, when I arrived downstairs, I did a double take when I noticed my dad's record player in the living room. Now I've seen his record player before, it's not like he keeps it hidden. However, it's always hooked up to his laptop. It is there where he takes his enviable collection of vinyl and burns them onto his iTunes. He's even burned a few (crackly and prone to skipping) CDs of The Doors for me. But this was the first time I'd seen the record player hooked up to speakers, and man, did I eyeball that thing like it was a shiny piece of candy.
Never before have I played an album on a record player. It was quite a novelty: setting up the needle and hearing the fuzz before the boom of the music comes in through the speakers excited me as much as a child gets excited on Christmas morning. I've always heard the protests that vinyl sounds so much better than everything new and shiny and digital, and though maybe my excitement over-hyped the experience, I'm not saying it wasn't incredibly enjoyable. It was charming, really, from the presentation to the performance. As a person who only briefly got into the iPod era (one iPod Mini, very few downloads, and a revert back to CDs) I was enthusiastic about the tangibility of it all, the bigness, the artwork, and the feeling like I was touching a preserved artifact.
I first listened to The Jukes by my dad's favorite Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes. Woah blues, woah vocals, woah horns. And that crackling sound that vinyl makes as background noise? More mysterious, really, than anything.
Then I pulled out The Jimi Hendrix Experience's Electric Ladyland. Oh my. I swear I sat on the couch for all of side B staring at the ceiling. My mother came in and asked me if I was high. "Only on Jimi," I thought. The crackling here gave way to a more psychedelic feel; character, I suppose, is a word to describe it. The highlight for me was of course All Along the Watchtower- it's what had to compensate for my dad not owning any Dylan records.
Next came the Stones' compilation album "Made in the Shade." I had fun trying to imitate Jagger's wail on "Aaaangie. Aaaaaaaaan-geh." I failed.
After my Stones sampling I found the debut album from The Cars which pleased me immensely, and didn't disappoint. Holy man do the synths (or whatever it is they're using- some keyboard settings? I don't know) shine through. I just wanted to get up and dance the Molly Ringwald 80's dance, but refrained because I was not by myself in the house.
Last but not least I popped in (is this the right terminology for records? It is for CDs, but you can't really "pop" a record in anywhere. I guess I just set it down and spun it.) Elvis Costello's debut, My Aim is True. This was the only record where I hadn't really heard any of the songs (though I recognized Blame it on Cain in the first few notes of the verse) and I didn't really know what to expect. But I was pleasantly surprised. These songs rocked. This album rocked. Elvis Costello rocked (he still does). This is just great rock and roll music with a great energy. The opener got me going from the start, really hyping you up for what's to come. Oh, and the vocals. AND THE VOCALS. They were not diminished by vinyl, that is for sure. Can't really say much more about them, though, to be honest, though I might compare them to a punch in the gut. The best punch in the gut of your life.
So that was my day. The only disappointment I have is that my father hasn't hooked this up before today. Playing the vinyl for real far outshines burning them onto CDs or smooshing them into mp3s to stick on your iPod. The downfall is that I'll waste an immeasurable amount of time trying to go through 4 crates of classic vinyl records; ha, if that's my biggest downfall, then I have no downfalls at all.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Woodstock; Forty Years
So two weekends ago, I believe, marked the fortieth anniversary of the famous and legendary festival at Bethel Woods (just under 3 hours from my home.. I really should make the trek out there one of these days) and the History Channel had a special to commemorate it. Of course I taped it (if you haven't noticed by my other posts, I have an ever-growing love for the 60's) but I didn't get around to watching it until today.
It was certainly interesting, but if you'd already sat through the 3 hours of the actual Woodstock movie there is not so much new information; most of the footage is taken right from the movie, minus the full performances (the best parts!). The documentary really tried to examine the culture that surrounded 1969, focusing on individuals such as the "famous Woodstock couple" as well as interviewing a gaggle of ex-hippies (though some of these folks hadn't really outgrown the hippie stage-- I am referring to the man with flowing grey hair wearing tie-dye and John Lennon sunglasses) about the Woodstock experience. There were also many up close and personal interviews with Michael Lang, the man behind the whole festival, and it was great to hear his account of how the project actually morphed from idea to reality. I loved the story about how it was funded (basically they hooked up with two young guys who just had money they didn't know what to do with) because I'd always wondered how they must have spent at least 17 inheritances and then put the show on for free.
The most annoying part of this whole segment was the interview with a random group of kids who were attending the real life "School of Rock," as it was actually called. For whatever reason, the show opened with these kids talking about what Woodstock meant to them and ended with them performing Woodstock's hits, and included interviews with the group throughout the show. I understood that the point was trying to be made that Woodstock's music was still relevant today. However, it was a bit disheartening for me to watch a young singer wishing so badly to emulate Janis Joplin's wild vocals, then watching a copycat performance at the end. Take it from someone who's grown up in the 2000's; we have nothing to call our own. This entire decade has gone through an identity crisis, honestly. I can't remember a year where fashion or music hasn't been referred to as "retro," "vintage," et cetera, et cetera. Take a look at the trends since 2000; 70's (flares and things), 80's (spandex is back), 90's (grunge buffalo-check plaid?) and now we're experiencing peace-sign-covered graphic t-shirts and flowy hippie tops reminiscent of the Woodstock scene itself. As for music, this whole "indie music trend" is a bit laughable as well, because an indie band is now any band that sounds like they're right from the new wave period of the 80's regardless of whether they are signed or not.
The only thing we can really claim as ours is the whole digital movement; garage band, auto-tune, techno-dancy beats... though really they're only glorified versions of the synthesizers of the past. I am still holding out hope that some innovation will come in the fast-approaching decade in front of us. The Woodstock-era, that period of the late 60's-- that sweated individuality. No movement that crazy had ever happened before, as it did with the hippies. I do see similarities between today and then; for example, the past and the present are defined by controversial overseas wars (Vietnam/Iraq and Afghanistan), shaky political circumstances (death of RFK, enter Nixon/Bush and Cheney and the chaos they left for this presidency) and the fight for individual rights (gay individuals are still fighting against many right-stripping propositions). Maybe the past is repeating itself; maybe there is a link. Unfortunately, this generation seems to lack the creativity and invention that the past seemed to emit, albeit emitted in a drug-clouded haze. Are we just not as politically motivated or moved to action during trying times? Have we simply just stopped trying? Maybe Nixon really did achieve something, and the War on Drugs subdued most of the adolescents from turning wild and crazy (if you believe that it worked).
Or maybe we just really, really admire the past.
Here's my favorite video from the original film. Enjoy.
It was certainly interesting, but if you'd already sat through the 3 hours of the actual Woodstock movie there is not so much new information; most of the footage is taken right from the movie, minus the full performances (the best parts!). The documentary really tried to examine the culture that surrounded 1969, focusing on individuals such as the "famous Woodstock couple" as well as interviewing a gaggle of ex-hippies (though some of these folks hadn't really outgrown the hippie stage-- I am referring to the man with flowing grey hair wearing tie-dye and John Lennon sunglasses) about the Woodstock experience. There were also many up close and personal interviews with Michael Lang, the man behind the whole festival, and it was great to hear his account of how the project actually morphed from idea to reality. I loved the story about how it was funded (basically they hooked up with two young guys who just had money they didn't know what to do with) because I'd always wondered how they must have spent at least 17 inheritances and then put the show on for free.
The most annoying part of this whole segment was the interview with a random group of kids who were attending the real life "School of Rock," as it was actually called. For whatever reason, the show opened with these kids talking about what Woodstock meant to them and ended with them performing Woodstock's hits, and included interviews with the group throughout the show. I understood that the point was trying to be made that Woodstock's music was still relevant today. However, it was a bit disheartening for me to watch a young singer wishing so badly to emulate Janis Joplin's wild vocals, then watching a copycat performance at the end. Take it from someone who's grown up in the 2000's; we have nothing to call our own. This entire decade has gone through an identity crisis, honestly. I can't remember a year where fashion or music hasn't been referred to as "retro," "vintage," et cetera, et cetera. Take a look at the trends since 2000; 70's (flares and things), 80's (spandex is back), 90's (grunge buffalo-check plaid?) and now we're experiencing peace-sign-covered graphic t-shirts and flowy hippie tops reminiscent of the Woodstock scene itself. As for music, this whole "indie music trend" is a bit laughable as well, because an indie band is now any band that sounds like they're right from the new wave period of the 80's regardless of whether they are signed or not.
The only thing we can really claim as ours is the whole digital movement; garage band, auto-tune, techno-dancy beats... though really they're only glorified versions of the synthesizers of the past. I am still holding out hope that some innovation will come in the fast-approaching decade in front of us. The Woodstock-era, that period of the late 60's-- that sweated individuality. No movement that crazy had ever happened before, as it did with the hippies. I do see similarities between today and then; for example, the past and the present are defined by controversial overseas wars (Vietnam/Iraq and Afghanistan), shaky political circumstances (death of RFK, enter Nixon/Bush and Cheney and the chaos they left for this presidency) and the fight for individual rights (gay individuals are still fighting against many right-stripping propositions). Maybe the past is repeating itself; maybe there is a link. Unfortunately, this generation seems to lack the creativity and invention that the past seemed to emit, albeit emitted in a drug-clouded haze. Are we just not as politically motivated or moved to action during trying times? Have we simply just stopped trying? Maybe Nixon really did achieve something, and the War on Drugs subdued most of the adolescents from turning wild and crazy (if you believe that it worked).
Or maybe we just really, really admire the past.
Here's my favorite video from the original film. Enjoy.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Weekend Entertainment
Being the recluse I am, I spent this weekend seeking entertainment on YouTube yet again. Being the lazy person I am, I refused to run out to my car to grab The Kinks Are the Village Green Preservation Society and just looked up my favorite songs on the interweb.
Now, let me just warn you, (are you sitting down??) that this wonderful Kinks album may just be THE BEST concept album ever. It's truly great. It's something to strive for, even though it's utterly unattainable by any other artist. Seriously. Elements of humor and sarcasm (found on the track The Village Green Preservation Society where Ray Davies touts "God save Donald Duck" and different jam varieties) as well as emotions of longing while reminiscing over the past (like the track Do You Remember Walter; "I knew you then/ But do I know you now?") are pepperred throughout the album. It's an album where people in the present (the present being 1968) remember times that are long gone-- the good old days. The track I sought out first, however, was Big Sky.
This song packs a punch even though it barely plays for 3 minutes. However, it keeps you captivated from the first few notes of 60's-intro-greatness to the positive reassurance given at the last "Don't let it get you down!" chorus. It might be the most philosophical track of the album, making you wonder whether God doesn't exist or if the existing God just doesn't care.
Then, after you're done figuring out what you believe in, go listen to Phenomenal Cat. It may just seem like a joke upon first listen, but there is some brilliant poetry on the inside.
I'm just kidding; it's about a cat that is fat. Could be a Dr. Seuss poem.
So there you have it; the greatness of this album in all its YouTube glory. What? You're saying you want hits? You don't like these random songs you've never heard in your life? Doesn't do for you what The Beatles did? Here, take your stupid Picture Book, and like it!
Now, let me just warn you, (are you sitting down??) that this wonderful Kinks album may just be THE BEST concept album ever. It's truly great. It's something to strive for, even though it's utterly unattainable by any other artist. Seriously. Elements of humor and sarcasm (found on the track The Village Green Preservation Society where Ray Davies touts "God save Donald Duck" and different jam varieties) as well as emotions of longing while reminiscing over the past (like the track Do You Remember Walter; "I knew you then/ But do I know you now?") are pepperred throughout the album. It's an album where people in the present (the present being 1968) remember times that are long gone-- the good old days. The track I sought out first, however, was Big Sky.
This song packs a punch even though it barely plays for 3 minutes. However, it keeps you captivated from the first few notes of 60's-intro-greatness to the positive reassurance given at the last "Don't let it get you down!" chorus. It might be the most philosophical track of the album, making you wonder whether God doesn't exist or if the existing God just doesn't care.
Then, after you're done figuring out what you believe in, go listen to Phenomenal Cat. It may just seem like a joke upon first listen, but there is some brilliant poetry on the inside.
I'm just kidding; it's about a cat that is fat. Could be a Dr. Seuss poem.
So there you have it; the greatness of this album in all its YouTube glory. What? You're saying you want hits? You don't like these random songs you've never heard in your life? Doesn't do for you what The Beatles did? Here, take your stupid Picture Book, and like it!
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
This may become a hard routine to keep up
Seriously, I'm dying here. Not really, but somehow I'm managing to type this out with my eyes half closed and my mouth eternally yawning. Yet I feel the need to resist sleep; as if laying my head on my soft, fluffy pile of pillows would be giving in. And so I am here, determined to surf the web until the wee hours of the of the morning, until my family members awake and find my face plastered to the keyboard.
It will be exciting.
So earlier today I found this link which I found pretty humorous. Mainly I chuckled at the imagery of Bob Dylan just deciding on a whim to take a stroll through a Jersey town in the pouring rain. Just 'cause he was bored before his show; just 'cause he felt like it. And then the image of him being apprehended by clueless young police officers who think he's a mental patient; and then him nonchalantly humoring them by having them perform their duties and take him back where he belongs (really, he just bummed a free ride off these cops back to his concert location, no?).
Maybe Dylan was thrilled at this anonymity, though. Isn't it something he's been trying to achieve for 5 decades? Well, maybe it's really more of a mysterious air that he's after, but nonetheless when I read this I imagine him as more amused than angry or upset. Hopefully he wasn't upset.
But who really knows. It's Bob Dylan. I only wish I could know...
It will be exciting.
So earlier today I found this link which I found pretty humorous. Mainly I chuckled at the imagery of Bob Dylan just deciding on a whim to take a stroll through a Jersey town in the pouring rain. Just 'cause he was bored before his show; just 'cause he felt like it. And then the image of him being apprehended by clueless young police officers who think he's a mental patient; and then him nonchalantly humoring them by having them perform their duties and take him back where he belongs (really, he just bummed a free ride off these cops back to his concert location, no?).
Maybe Dylan was thrilled at this anonymity, though. Isn't it something he's been trying to achieve for 5 decades? Well, maybe it's really more of a mysterious air that he's after, but nonetheless when I read this I imagine him as more amused than angry or upset. Hopefully he wasn't upset.
But who really knows. It's Bob Dylan. I only wish I could know...
Monday, August 17, 2009
Yawn
I wonder how these posts would sound if I wrote them while the sun was shining.
Meh, I can't be bothered during the daytime.
Night is more exciting; it's more surreal. It's a time where creaks and shadows crawl out of the darkness to create this new world. Sometimes it feels as though I'm dreaming while awake.
So maybe I'll continue depriving myself of sleep. All that time where thoughts turn rampant and wild might serve to be somewhat interesting.
Goodbye until shadow-time.
Meh, I can't be bothered during the daytime.
Night is more exciting; it's more surreal. It's a time where creaks and shadows crawl out of the darkness to create this new world. Sometimes it feels as though I'm dreaming while awake.
So maybe I'll continue depriving myself of sleep. All that time where thoughts turn rampant and wild might serve to be somewhat interesting.
Goodbye until shadow-time.
Day 2
I've returned; maybe this place will take hold of me after all. I don't really know what to do- I don't even know what I'm doing. But it's all become satisfying, so perhaps I'll keep it up.
Blogging might also become a good time-slayer for when I don't want to fall asleep (which is 24/7), so here I am, at 3 in the morning, getting out thoughts. The thing is, I'm tired as a racehorse (after a race, surely). I just can't seem to bring myself up to bed.
The media of the internet is usually what captures me. Tonight, I played with Youtube, which resides in my top 3 list of internet media. I wonder how many videos Youtube can actually provide- millions? billions? trillions? But I digress; no matter how many videos exist, I found what I was looking for tonight.
Recently, I've been listening to Fleet Foxes, ever since I discovered their debut album around December (?) of last year. Since, I've pretty much spiraled into Fleet Foxes addiction, though I go through this with much of the music I listen to. Anyway, I've done my research, and was once directed to this gem of a myspace from the Foxes' own page. It is what I assume to be Robin Pecknold's (Fox frontman) solo work, though his "False Knight On the Road" appeared on Fleet Foxes' "Mykonos" single. But to get to the point, I was on this site, listening to "Silver Dagger." http://www.myspace.com/awhiteantelope
The cover doesn't disappoint. I can argue this because I must have listened to the song five times; after I got restless with the myspace page I ventured to youtube to prod this song around some more. It was there that I found this, the very same song but with a smashing photo of Robin included. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uVcdhUptwDY
It wasn't till I was directed to this next video that I became so so excited. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OXFfBGND4iQ
Yes, that is live footage of the cover! It was a great find of a pretty recent show on 7.11.09 where a copious amount of covers were experimented with and OLD SONGS were played (Icicle Tusk!!). I could have watched the whole concert (I likely will at some point) but instead I clicked on yet another video on the right side of the page: the famous Joan Baez version, in all its glory.
Joan Baez: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pjBpH1pGylM
This was the first video I watched; there are no pictures, only lyrics included, but with Joan's melodic heaven you don't really need anything else to distract you.
Then I travelled here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FdQ8s8K8A2g
This is a great live version of, again, "Silver Dagger." Different key, different feel, though I was seriously envying her amazing voice yet again. How can a person achieve that perfection while performing live? I cannot answer this.
We are rounding out my internet adventure now; only one last video to run through. I clicked on it because Bob Dylan's face was the thumbnail (Bob Dylan and Joan Baez videos seem to be eternally associated, naturally) and it turned out to be yet another live Joan Baez version, the one off Bob Dylan's "Live" 1964 album: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VDXtxSVSEmk
Bob does no singing though he accompanies a soulful Joan on a mean harmonica; the effect on the ears made me, a musician, feel incapable of achieving any remarkable contributions to music at all. But that's why Dylan and Baez are greats.
So that pretty much ends my Youtube joyride. I hope you enjoyed the six links to the same song (it kept me occupied for an hour or so). Good night now. I will be sleeping- alone, I've decided, after getting those six identical warnings.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Hello
Let me be the first to welcome myself to this long-established blogging web-community; I'm pretty sure no one else is planning to step in and do the honors. For at the moment (or maybe a few months or years) I imagine I'll be blogging to a blog with no followers; to empty airspace; to a cyber-wall; to a blank screen. Maybe it will become lonely, but in the meantime, I suppose I'll just use this place to get out a thought or two.
I wonder how people gain "followers" anyway. I would guess they tell their friends who tell their friends and a small base is established. Then, if the blog is more interesting than a pet rock, perhaps the base slowly continues to grow until the blog is a credible source of information/online procrastination. But what if you wish to stay relatively anonymous, like me?
I don't know why I would feel more comfortable posting to random strangers than to my friends and family; I guess because if a person is closer to you, the more critical they can be. Though, really, any person can be just as critical as the next; so, I guess you worry less about what strangers think than acquaintances. At least this is what I reason.
So, maybe a few of you here and there will tune it. All I'm really relying on is random viewers happening upon this little midnight project and choosing to return a second, fifth or seventy-second time. Hey, you never know; sometimes reading nonsense can be fun. Until then, I'll just continue to use this as my public-internet-journal. Works for me.
I wonder how people gain "followers" anyway. I would guess they tell their friends who tell their friends and a small base is established. Then, if the blog is more interesting than a pet rock, perhaps the base slowly continues to grow until the blog is a credible source of information/online procrastination. But what if you wish to stay relatively anonymous, like me?
I don't know why I would feel more comfortable posting to random strangers than to my friends and family; I guess because if a person is closer to you, the more critical they can be. Though, really, any person can be just as critical as the next; so, I guess you worry less about what strangers think than acquaintances. At least this is what I reason.
So, maybe a few of you here and there will tune it. All I'm really relying on is random viewers happening upon this little midnight project and choosing to return a second, fifth or seventy-second time. Hey, you never know; sometimes reading nonsense can be fun. Until then, I'll just continue to use this as my public-internet-journal. Works for me.
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