Filed under: lists, music | Tags: beirut, carousel, iron and wine, mewithoutyou, music, nicole atkins, paper route, videos
once in a while, i’ll become more or less fixated on an image. when some particular imagery burrows itself into my mind, my thoughts become tethered to it. I try to find real-life, tangible replications of the image and, if I don’t see it, I find it in more abstract representations.
right now, the image occupying my brain is that of a carousel. I think I saw a picture of one in a magazine a few weeks ago, and I haven’t been able to shake it since. they’re as beautiful as they are haunting, and its unending rotations provide so much fodder for drawing parallels to young adulthood, aimlessness, and futility.
but that’s besides the point. I just wanted to provide some context to a post featuring five videos of songs titled “carousel” (or some derivation of it), each a song I appreciate in its own right.
Iron & Wine – Carousel
Paper Route – Carousel
Nicole Atkins – Carouselle
Beirut – Carousels
mewithoutYou – Carousels
Filed under: reflection, updates | Tags: about me, books, life, music, non-profit, nonprofit, portland, san diego, work
existence:
yeap, i still exist. this blog still exists. as i wrote in my first post, this blog remains a place to write whatever i feel like, and i’ve taken the liberty to make this blog a virtual place in which i can write whenever i feel like. so here i am on a coldfreezing wednesday afternoon in portland, warming my feet with the warmth of my laptop’s battery.
san diego:
on november 26, i reluctantly broke away from my life in san diego. saying goodbye to my dearest friends one-by-one was perhaps one of the most gut-wrenching experiences i’ve had in my life as a young adult. no matter how much i wished for the contrary, that wednesday saw me cry. a lot. with the apartment mostly clean and wholly devoid of my belongings, i drove northward in a car weighed down by the material crap i deemed slightly worthier than all the other material crap i ended up throwing away. every foot of nondescript I-5 pavement that passed underneath my car was a step away from the life i’d spent six years carefully nurturing. sure, the prospect of moving was reason to be excited and anxious and hopeful, but in all honesty, there was very little, if any, joy in the leaving.
thanksgiving:
thanksgiving weekend in milpitas was wonderfully calm and enjoyable with my family. the older i get, the more i’m able to pick up on the humor of my parents. they’re weird, zany folks and i love them for it. i picked up on the fact that i get my playful self-aggrandizing tendencies from my dad; twice during the weekend he said something along the lines of “i’m always looking good.” from my mom, i’ve inherited a general playfulness that i never noticed until the last few years. more than anything, i think she truly enjoys the act of laughing, and it’s an absolutely beautiful thing to witness.
portland:
after a great but altogehter too-short stop in sacramento, i set out on the long drive up to portland. 11 hours, two audiobooks, seven energy drinks, and one instance of peeing into a bottle later, i made it to the city.
the most common questions i’ve answered over the past couple weeks is “why?” and i’ve resorted to answering with “why not?” i’d been in san diego for six years, and while i simultaneously grew into community as it grew into me, i knew in the back of my mind that i needed to be stretched, challenged, and, hell, broken. if i didn’t do it now, the skeptical/scared voice inside would only have gotten louder, and i would probably have ended up laughing away the opportunity.
in the many nights i spent trying to decide whether or not i should move, i’m afraid that i antagonized the concept of comfort. comfort, i decided, meant stagnancy, a conclusion with which i’m already in disagreement. whereas comfort and being comfortable aren’t bad in and of themselves, i think there are particular times in one’s life to embrace them and particular times to eschew them. for me, it was simply the time to deny them, a difficult decision as i feel as if i’ve been on a six-year journey to create for myself nothing other a comfortable niche in this world.
portland is a good place with good things and (hopefully) good people. i think this place can become home. this, of course, won’t happen overnight, but i like my chances.
as of this entry, i’ve been here for 16 days.
work:
my last day of work at einstein industries was the 17th, and i spent the following week-and-a-half packing up my life and cutting some severe deals on pieces of furniture in an effort to sell them before i left. i could write more about that place, but i think the linked site is sufficient.
i came to portland without a job, but a much clear(er) idea about what i wanted to do and for what i have a passion. for the past month or so, i’ve been applying to nearly every non-profit job for which i’m sorta qualified. no big breaks yet, but i’m praying, hoping, and dreaming that i’ve got one coming on the horizon.
shameless request: if you know anyone in the portland area who is involved in non-profit work, please let me know or pass on my resume/information to him or her. a million thanks!
residence:
through the friend of a friend of a friend, i found a room to sublet through the middle of january. the house is absolutely charming and i’ll be sad to move out when the time comes. i’m starting the process of looking for a new, more permanent place in southeast portland, and am keeping my fingers crossed for something good. in the meantime, i’m enjoying having a basement.
music:
bands i’ve been listening to the past few weeks include
- band of horses
- thrice
- blitzen trapper
- the snake the cross the crown
- fleet foxes
- colour revolt
- tv on the radio
- bon iver
- ida maria
- denison witmer
- rosie thomas
books:
well, during my drive, i listened to stephen colbert’s I am America (And So Can You!) and david sedaris’ Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim. i guess that sorta counts.
this past week, i’ve been on a wendell berry kick. he’s the author of my favorite poem ever, and is a profound essayist with ideas and convictions that make so much sense that they sound crazy to most. on saturday, i stopped by the ever-amazing powell’s books and picked up three of his works: Standing by Words, What Are People For?, and Sex, Economy, Freedom & Community: Eight Essays. i’ve started reading all three and am blown away not only by his thoughts, but also by his ability to bring biting wit to serious subjects and to inject gravity into humorous constructions.
. . . . . .
so there it is – a part-encompassing update of where, what, and who i am at this time.
’til later.
Filed under: music | Tags: cover, music, r.e.m., rosie thomas, sufjan stevens, the one i love
this song was released a bit over a year ago, but it’s made its way back into my “songs I can’t stop listening to” group. a haunting, breathy, and smoldering cover of the R.E.M. classic.
*edit: updated the song link to an embedded file.
Filed under: music, reviews | Tags: a song for milly michaelson, music, thrice
every now and again, a song enters through my ears and makes a slow, smoldering course through my body, heart, and mind. I’m beginning to embrace more and more the connection between the metaphysical and the physical, the spiritual and the corporeal, and some songs serve as tangible reminders of such a concept.
Thrice releases a new dual-EP album tomorrow, Tuesday, April 15. one particular song off the “Air” EP has quickly established itself as one of the most brilliant and beautiful songs I’ve ever encountered. “A Song for Milly Michaelson,” despite its repetitive guitar and lack of overtly dynamic instrumentation, is captivating, far more engaging than nearly any song I have heard. both title and lyrics are based on the movie “The Boy Who Could Fly”:
After the suicide of her terminally-ill father, fourteen year old Amelia “Milly” Michaelson loses interest in almost everything around her. But before long, she becomes friends with Eric Gibb, a young autistic neighbor who had lost both of his parents to a plane crash. Together, Eric and Milly find ways to cope with the loss and the pain, as they escape to far away places.
the lyrics take the movie’s premise, make use of every emotional avenue, and dig into any corner where affect may lie. it’s a song that I’m compelled to share for its genius, if not for its breathtaking beauty and structure.
Well you know I hardly speak.
When I do it’s just for you.
I haven’t said a word in weeks
‘Cause they’ve been keeping me from you.
There’s a way where there’s a will.
You know I got no need for stairs.
Step out on the window sill,
Fall with me into the air.
So, here we go.
Hold on tight and don’t let go.
I won’t ever let you fall.
I love the night.
Flying o’er these city lights.
But I love you most of all.
Well there’s something you should know.
Girl you should have died that day.
You fell reaching for the rose
Baby I was there to save you.
just something I couldn’t keep to myself.
Filed under: lists, music | Tags: air drum, band marino, band names, cars, driving, grizzly bear, music, spoon, u2
I know a lot of people that hate driving. I guess the thought of being confined in a metal (or, in Saturn’s case, dent-resistant plastic) cage, weaving through mazes crowded with other metal cages, isn’t appealing.
on the other hand, there’s me. I love driving. it’s an opportunity for me to rock out with my engine block out, to air drum shamelessly* and refine my sweet stage moves. driving plays directly into my (not so) secret to be a rockstar, a pied-piper of screaming, adolescent fans. just once I’d like my existence to usher an entire generation into pubescent pandemonium and hysteria. I don’t think that’s too much to ask (but certainly way too much to work toward).
I’ve recorded myself on my mac’s garageband, and I know full-well that I sound awful. go ahead and add my singing as the eighth modern deadly sin. when this unfortunate reality creeps into my consciousness as I drive, I stop the playtime and contemplate about other things. mostly, I come up with possible band names. if I can’t be in a band, I might as well be prepared to suggest a name to friends who have some musical talent.
think about it. band names can make you hate a band (puddle of mudd, the the, hoobastank, U2) or love a band (grizzly bear, spoon, band marino, U2). okay, the quality of their music probably plays the biggest part in your love or hate for said band, but the band name undoubtedly plays some role.
I know that there’s a band name generator out there, and even an entire blog dedicated to suggesting names. but why hasn’t anyone made a career out of providing actual band names? better yet, how about a subscriber-service that matches each band’s genre, personality, and preferences with the ideal band name? a match.com for bands and band names!
..and this is why I’m no businessman (“I’m a business, man”).
anyway, here it is, an abridged list of band names, in no particular order:
- the quintessential petting zoo
- your permanent record
- the dermis band
- 8-leg salute
divide by zero(band exists – thanks Sophia)- flo and the rescent
- rest ye merry gentlemen
- wide rule paper vs. all
- high time for mr. mackey
- bullet point
- my mother, the fish
- my favorite alloy
- upside down rock cake
- rodney carney asada
- the plastic lanyards
- dentured servanthood
- crossbar
- hollywood, nova scotia
- i feel blank when you blank / the “i feel” statements
- license bowl
- hester and the whores
- guppy showtime
- tube sock your face
- debbie’s got some uppers
- sucks to our assmars
- fight, flight, or stall
- the corner ofs
- nashua
- goodbye, balloon
- the oh hell no’s
- support beam
- norse code
- 5am bathroom break
- creep what you sow
- lysdexic all-stars
- toolbox betty
- neat
- best-laid planes
- internal request
- man against men
bear vs. shark(band exists)- basil and toast
- push broom mafia
- temper the egg
- the hints
- gertrude
- hopescotch
- bringed and brought
- the prep clause
- the soapbox offering
- good morning, tom tancredo
- gold medal podium
- thanks for calling and the please holds
*one thing I have learned is to never air drum when there is an actual drummer in your car. it’s super embarassing and you KNOW that they’re judging you in all your drum-massacring glory.
Filed under: music, reflection, reviews | Tags: alison krauss, music, the acorns, wilco
no, not stuff I’m listening to at this very moment. if that were the case, you’d be reading a few-hundred-word write-up about an extremely pretentious, grunge-hip mandolin/spoken word duo playing on the stage of rebecca’s coffee shop (come on, the “my mother was a drunk” line is a tad overplayed, no?). two 30-minute sets. two.. 30-minute.. sets. no lack of effort or prolificness here.
“prolificness” is an ugly, ugly word. ugly, but real. I’d much rather use something like “prolificity” or “prolificism.” alas.
rather, here’s just some stuff that I’ve been listening to lately. most of these artists/albums aren’t upcoming releases (GASP! music stuff on a blog about things that have already been released?!). yeap, just stuff you’ll find on the “Recently Played” list of my itunes and last.fm page.
Wilco - Sky Blue Sky
in terms of daring and innovation, this is the most timid, subdued wilco album so far. I guess that’s a little bit like saying “the pyramids are the least impressive of the world wonders” or “between the wheel, fire, and agriculture, fire was the least daring of prehistoric innovations” – take that as you may. anyway, if I may use music critic language for a moment, Sky Blue Sky is the safest album Wilco’s put out. (heh, put out. bro-tastic!)
regardless, it’s a wonderful 12-song album that picks me up and carries me through various moods and mental landscapes in a 50-minute span. I can easily picture myself walking through uniquely hued, individually themed backdrops at various paces: a brisk elbows up strut in the sun during “Walken,” a head-down, foot-dragging mope in a soft mist during “Please Be Patient with Me,” and a glazed-over, emotional zombie walk through the rooms of a small, sparsely decorated yellow house during “Hate It Here.”
anytime I want to be reminded that it’s okay to feel eighteen different emotions, this is the album to which I turn.
“Walken”:
“Please Be Patient with Me”:
“Hate It Here”:
The Acorn – Tin Fist / Blankets! / The Pink Ghosts / Glory Hope Mountain
equal parts whimsy, musicianship, and restraint, the acorn have become one of my favorite bands. each of their songs – as well as every movement, stanza, crescendo, and hushed whisper that each song consists of – seems to have a deliberate path and purpose. I’ve never been the biggest fan of classical music, but I’ve always appreciated the beauty and power of distinct, yet cohesive, movements. this band definitely takes advantage of the raw emotional push-and-pull behind musical and lyrical dynamics. the end result is a flood of comfort in and adoration for their music. lyrics are sophisticated in their simplicity, and the music is able to move me because it flows with conviction in the direction for which it was designed. even songs without words (like “Do You Not Yearn, At All?”) are constructed to dig into your musical heart and pull you along for the ride.
“Dents”:
“Plates and Saucers”:
“Do You Not Yearn, At All?”:
Alison Krauss and Union Station – Lonely Runs Both Ways
if it’s possible for a songstress to possess a voice that’s both heartbreaking and uplifting with every note she sings, alison krauss is it. the clarity and crispness of her voice makes those few instances where emotion trumps technique all the more noticeable and compelling. the songs allow alison to narrate loss, longing, and lament in the most angelic of ways, which makes for an incredibly bittersweet listening experience. sometimes, I’m in a place where, for one reason or another, I can’t take in something entirely happy or entirely sad, and I need something that attenuates both the best and worst of each quality, kinda like a jack and coke. how appropriate.
“Goodbye Is All We Have”:
“Doesn’t Have to Be This Way”:
“Restless”:
