Sometimes you run across blog posts you wish you'd written. Carl Wilson's review/personal essay about The Mountain Goats' show in Toronto this week pretty much clinches the prize for the best entry I've seen on any blog, anywhere lately. He hits on the high-level, emotionally involved fandom one has as an adult for a select few artists and the fallacy (?) of Darnielle's autobiographical songwriting. Like I said, wish I'd written it.
I really like Darnielle's quote, as transcribed by Carl, about Get Lonely: "A lot of people are calling it a 'breakup' album. Well, I guess you could say that, but what some of the people in these songs are breaking up with is Almighty God. Or their own DNA." Boy howdy, is it ever; I'll tell you this -- I've had a lot of trouble listening to Get Lonely. The spackle on the new, improved version of myself that I've been building for the past few years isn't dry yet. I still might crack under the pressure. Or, to quote The Format: "When I said, 'I hate what i've become,' I lied, I hated who I was..." Yeah, I've made some big changes.
I did spend one night sprawled on the floor listening to it a few times -- the intimate immediacy of the songs burrowing into the dark corners that I've been hiding from everyone. It's problematic, I don't know what to do with those feelings, other than to hold them up and examine them and hopefully find comfort in someone or something that's not self-destructive. Needless to say, I'm a little panicked about the live experience of the record -- I am the girl, after all, who had to go hyperventilate in the bathroom after the last time I saw Xiu Xiu. Sometimes a really fucking good show renders me an open, gaping wound of confused emotions. You know how it is. Yeah?
I am not one for a large amount of self-reflection, but it's been weighing on me heavily since that night that I've been single for over a year. (Sorry if you've heard this story before...) In August 2005, I trashed and burned a relationship of nearly four years that was extremely serious, except for the fact that I was so emotionally detatched from my boyfriend that it was like I wasn't really there. You know, that kind of serious. People under the age of like 22, or who've never stayed in a relationship about 3 and a half years (or more) past its expiration date won't know what I mean by this -- but maybe the rest of you will. It's been weird, being a single girl again -- I haven't been on a date, but I'm not really the dating type. I've hit on a few people, with mixed results, and vice versa. But what it comes down to is that I've been distinctly, pointedly unavailable in the romance arena for the past year. And the past year has been all about me, and working things out for myself. And really, the process is hardly over. In fact, I suppose this is just the tip of the iceburg, because I can only just now talk about some of this stuff. (I'm kind of weird and reticent like a dude in that regard...) I can only hope that I continue to grow and change and learn more amazing things about myself for the rest of my life at the same rate that I have since I moved out of the evil apartment of doom I shared with my boyfriend and into my airy little retreat that's mine alone. That, my friends, is a lifestyle choice worth making.
And I don't even really think I'm looking to get in a relationship anytime soon, but I'm starting to warm up to the idea -- whereas in the winter and spring and most of the summer, I absolutely dreaded the thought. And for some reason, I've been hooked on listening to these songs lately. Perhaps as a primer of what to long for, and what to avoid.
Yeah Yeah Yeahs -- Modern Romance
TV on the Radio -- Modern Romance
Bloc Party -- This Modern Love
Last night I stopped in at Half-Price to shed some excess material goods, and managed to come out with a bunch of records and a few books. The prizes were two out-of-print Christina Stead titles and some amazing albums, including Deaf School's English Boys, Working Girls. Googling around, I found out a lot about the band in this article about Suggs (the lead singer of Madness), as he married Deaf School singer Bette Bright.
One of my other interesting finds was an EP (After Hours) from a band called Velveteen, which was basically Sal Maida (who played bass for Sparks and Roxy Music in the late 70's) and Lisa Burns and a bunch of session musicians. It's a perfect, danceable little New Wave gem in kind of in vein of Rachel Sweet and The Pretenders, but a little darker. I had no idea what the album would sound like when I picked it up, but the visual cues and the copyright date gave me a pretty good idea. I'm glad it was a good find; Sal currently plays bass for Cracker, and Lisa has a solo album and they have a band called New Randy, a bizzare, rootsy country project. Talk about longevity!
(Oddly enough, before I did all this research, I described Deaf School to Pinkie as sounding like the perfect cross between Roxy Music and Sparks -- very 1978. What a weird coincidence.)
That's all from here for now. Come see A Featherweight Burden and The Black tomorrow night at Mohawk ($5); Pompeii (not as previously noted, Cue -- that would be kind of impossible with Colin playing in his other band!) play Trophy's, M. Ward is at the Parish with Portastatic, and Dr. Octagon is in the Emo's Lounge. We might pop by the Cinema Texas shidig tonight, also at Mohawk: Yellow Fever, Best Fwends and Cry Blood Apache play; Ramesh and Chris man the turntables. The Gossip, Mika Miko, and Swan Island play Emo's; Rogue Wave are also in town @ the Parish. Though, damn, wish I was in NYC so I could see Flin Flon, The Ballet, and Puddin' Tang at the Cake Shop tonight. The past pedigree of those bands alone makes my head spin.
Flashback: One year ago, Tulsa. Cain's Ballroom, possibly the best rock show of the year, and a surprise at the hotel elevators. (Bedhead is way cute and is surprisingly indicative of real humanity.) Cat-calling over ripping guitar solos. PBRs in an empty bar and 4:20 Pizza delivered to the room and impossibly distinguished night auditors and hot Okies in eyeliner. It was a good night, and believe me when I tell you we looked fiiiiine.
I really like Darnielle's quote, as transcribed by Carl, about Get Lonely: "A lot of people are calling it a 'breakup' album. Well, I guess you could say that, but what some of the people in these songs are breaking up with is Almighty God. Or their own DNA." Boy howdy, is it ever; I'll tell you this -- I've had a lot of trouble listening to Get Lonely. The spackle on the new, improved version of myself that I've been building for the past few years isn't dry yet. I still might crack under the pressure. Or, to quote The Format: "When I said, 'I hate what i've become,' I lied, I hated who I was..." Yeah, I've made some big changes.
I did spend one night sprawled on the floor listening to it a few times -- the intimate immediacy of the songs burrowing into the dark corners that I've been hiding from everyone. It's problematic, I don't know what to do with those feelings, other than to hold them up and examine them and hopefully find comfort in someone or something that's not self-destructive. Needless to say, I'm a little panicked about the live experience of the record -- I am the girl, after all, who had to go hyperventilate in the bathroom after the last time I saw Xiu Xiu. Sometimes a really fucking good show renders me an open, gaping wound of confused emotions. You know how it is. Yeah?
I am not one for a large amount of self-reflection, but it's been weighing on me heavily since that night that I've been single for over a year. (Sorry if you've heard this story before...) In August 2005, I trashed and burned a relationship of nearly four years that was extremely serious, except for the fact that I was so emotionally detatched from my boyfriend that it was like I wasn't really there. You know, that kind of serious. People under the age of like 22, or who've never stayed in a relationship about 3 and a half years (or more) past its expiration date won't know what I mean by this -- but maybe the rest of you will. It's been weird, being a single girl again -- I haven't been on a date, but I'm not really the dating type. I've hit on a few people, with mixed results, and vice versa. But what it comes down to is that I've been distinctly, pointedly unavailable in the romance arena for the past year. And the past year has been all about me, and working things out for myself. And really, the process is hardly over. In fact, I suppose this is just the tip of the iceburg, because I can only just now talk about some of this stuff. (I'm kind of weird and reticent like a dude in that regard...) I can only hope that I continue to grow and change and learn more amazing things about myself for the rest of my life at the same rate that I have since I moved out of the evil apartment of doom I shared with my boyfriend and into my airy little retreat that's mine alone. That, my friends, is a lifestyle choice worth making.
And I don't even really think I'm looking to get in a relationship anytime soon, but I'm starting to warm up to the idea -- whereas in the winter and spring and most of the summer, I absolutely dreaded the thought. And for some reason, I've been hooked on listening to these songs lately. Perhaps as a primer of what to long for, and what to avoid.
Yeah Yeah Yeahs -- Modern Romance
TV on the Radio -- Modern Romance
Bloc Party -- This Modern Love
Last night I stopped in at Half-Price to shed some excess material goods, and managed to come out with a bunch of records and a few books. The prizes were two out-of-print Christina Stead titles and some amazing albums, including Deaf School's English Boys, Working Girls. Googling around, I found out a lot about the band in this article about Suggs (the lead singer of Madness), as he married Deaf School singer Bette Bright.
One of my other interesting finds was an EP (After Hours) from a band called Velveteen, which was basically Sal Maida (who played bass for Sparks and Roxy Music in the late 70's) and Lisa Burns and a bunch of session musicians. It's a perfect, danceable little New Wave gem in kind of in vein of Rachel Sweet and The Pretenders, but a little darker. I had no idea what the album would sound like when I picked it up, but the visual cues and the copyright date gave me a pretty good idea. I'm glad it was a good find; Sal currently plays bass for Cracker, and Lisa has a solo album and they have a band called New Randy, a bizzare, rootsy country project. Talk about longevity!
(Oddly enough, before I did all this research, I described Deaf School to Pinkie as sounding like the perfect cross between Roxy Music and Sparks -- very 1978. What a weird coincidence.)
That's all from here for now. Come see A Featherweight Burden and The Black tomorrow night at Mohawk ($5); Pompeii (not as previously noted, Cue -- that would be kind of impossible with Colin playing in his other band!) play Trophy's, M. Ward is at the Parish with Portastatic, and Dr. Octagon is in the Emo's Lounge. We might pop by the Cinema Texas shidig tonight, also at Mohawk: Yellow Fever, Best Fwends and Cry Blood Apache play; Ramesh and Chris man the turntables. The Gossip, Mika Miko, and Swan Island play Emo's; Rogue Wave are also in town @ the Parish. Though, damn, wish I was in NYC so I could see Flin Flon, The Ballet, and Puddin' Tang at the Cake Shop tonight. The past pedigree of those bands alone makes my head spin.
Flashback: One year ago, Tulsa. Cain's Ballroom, possibly the best rock show of the year, and a surprise at the hotel elevators. (Bedhead is way cute and is surprisingly indicative of real humanity.) Cat-calling over ripping guitar solos. PBRs in an empty bar and 4:20 Pizza delivered to the room and impossibly distinguished night auditors and hot Okies in eyeliner. It was a good night, and believe me when I tell you we looked fiiiiine.
posted by cindy hotpoint at 3:20:00 PM
10 Comments:
cue at trophy's?
duh, it's pompeii, not cue! thx for catching that. (:
and sometimes you come across a blog entry that your BFF wrote and wish that you'd written one as well. i think i'm kind of done with confessionals for now, because of the fucking drama-with-a-capital-D i was pulled into by groupies, girls too young to have had real life experiences, my own belief that women with experiences common to mine would have learned the same things that i have, and men who don't know how to say "no" unless everything else is telling them "yes." like i told the collective bartender: i should have listened, even though the power of the bedhead compelled me.
i know too much about myself after a year alone in tandem, and i'm not really at a spot that i'm willing to relive high school, or even college, so i'm sort of enjoying my spot on the sidelines watching the dumbshow play out. but i'll let someone else be ophelia to hamlet, and maybe he'll morph into a real orpheus someday and after the maenads finish with him he'll head (no pun intended) toward the isle of heterosexual boston marriage non-lesbos where you and i are living so that i don't have to be fucking eurydice. sorry, once was enough in that ballgown and is worthy of some statement like D's conviction to have the nubian dance-troupe rather than being part of one. god, that was convoluted. i'm also tempted to quote my ex and say "fuck it all to hell," but if i said it, i wouldn't mean it.
so, instead, i say "whatevs" and admit that i have no idea what's going to happen. i've got so much on my plate right now that i don't have time for the compromises that are necessary for the kind of relationship i want. now is neither the time nor the place...literally, and i'm really not sure how far i can currently trust men. and i'm finally aware that that's more about me than them.
too fast for love. or something. i think i'm a willing spinster. rad, huh?
It was a good night, and believe me when I tell you we looked fiiiiine.
totes, but we looked better that night in the old lady seats at northsix.
i need a campari and soda. stat.
This is true, we looked FIIIIIIINE that night. Please note the textual difference.
Do you have any campari at your house? I have a bran-new bottle of Topo Chico I can bring over.
I know I say this all the damn time, but I am SO GLAD you are my BFF. Hooray for spinster-hood. Or something.
And, um, yeah. No more Eurydice-ing for you. Or me.
I've been once into the heart of that particular darkness and have no desire to go back.
i've got so much on my plate right now that i don't have time for the compromises that are necessary for the kind of relationship i want. now is neither the time nor the place...literally, and i'm really not sure how far i can currently trust men. and i'm finally aware that that's more about me than them.
exactly. exactly. exactly.
I couldn't have said it better.
do i have campari? no, but if you and i get out of our respective houses before 9, i will totes invite you to accompany me to warehouse liquors where they most certain do have campari?
yeah, i know. i think you're neat too. and i'm glad you threaten to bean me in the head with your shoe every so often. ;)
look everyone, it's mutual admiration society! you too can become a member...ask us how.
Oh, girl. You know I am totally always up for a trip to the magical Warehouse Liquors.
I'll call you later!
two things. first, thanks for pointing the way to that incredible article about the mountain goats. that was well worth the read.
and second, i was touched by what you wrote about yourself. i would encourage you to really treasure this time by yourself. soak it up, because more than likely some time down the road you will be so committed to other people's lives and concerns that it will seem highly unlikely that you'll ever get another moment to yourself, let alone time to explore who you are and really be yourself. i speak from experience!
i was also touched by what you wrote here, alone time is necessary and its good to let yrself understand the meaning.
be good to you and relax, something right will come along :)
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