Kablammo!
On the verge of death.... Nightmare!
It feels alright, as long as something’s happening
August 22, 2007It’s kind of funny that, despite my computer dying on Monday and my iRiver H140 (my constant companion for over 3 years) showing signs that it will do the same, and despite the pervasive rain this week, I’m in the best mood I’ve been in for ages.
Yes ma’am, I will do what you tell me
August 21, 2007I just realized the horrible situational irony inherent in sitting in a windowless office, a drone working for the Man, and blasting Rage Against the Machine on my headphones.
Vendredi
August 17, 2007-
The Stooges — “Gimme Danger”
I can’t help thinking how hard this song would be to do well as karaoke. Over the course of the song, Iggy goes from ‘regular’ singing (as regular as he gets, anyway) to a full-bodied howl, to gentle crooning just above a whisper. (Of course, I also can’t help thinking I’d really like to see the karaoke parlor that has this song as a selection.) The beginning is dark, but still almost mellow, since the acoustic guitar is so prominent. You know where it’s going, but it’s not there yet. As soon as the electric kicks in after the first verse, though, it brings with it a tremendous sense of inevitability—you know it’s just a matter of time before all hell breaks loose. -
The Traveling Wilburys — “Handle With Care”
It’s hard to imagine a collaboration between George Harrison, Bob Dylan, Roy Orbison, and Tom Petty (I know I’m forgetting someone…) being any less amazing than this. I assume they each had a hook or a verse or whatever lying around unused, and they decided just to toss ‘em all together and see what came out. And thank god they did so. Unfortunately the George parts are a bit flat compared to the rest, but the bridges (both of them, but especially Roy’s) are just sublime. -
Sublime — “Caress Me Down”
For years, this song’s lyrics constituted the bulk of my Spanish-language vocabulary. (Nowadays I have some Manu Chao lyrics as well.) -
Hawksley Workman — “Dirty and True”
This is the point where Hawksley goes from ‘charming’ to ‘excessive’. The constant changes in the song are less ‘clever’ than ‘jarring’, and the extended spoken passage in radio-announcer-voice just sounds ‘trite’. -
Beethoven — Piano Sonata No. 15, 2nd Movement ‘Andante’
I can’t say enough good things about this piece—it (and to a lesser extent, the 2nd movement of his sonata no. 13) is the composition I’d consider selling my soul to be able to play. I love the minor-key opening, and the steady and staccato left-hand part that makes it feel almost like a march. I love the upbeat, major-key interlude, happy and free, with the quiet-quiet-LOUD dynamic reminiscent of Haydn’s ‘Surprise Symphony’, and the floating and lyrical right-hand part that sounds as gay and unburdened as laughter on a summer afternoon. And above all, I love the return to the minor key, and the way the ‘laughter’ motif returns, recast in a decidedly more sinister tone. -
Teppo & Kõrre — Garmoshka popurii
Whoever came up with the idea of combining Russian and Latin-American songs into the same medley was a goddamn genius. -
The Beatles — “I Want to Tell You”
As with essentially every Beatles song, it’s absolutely unfair how good this is. Of course, it’s hard to tell how much of that is a result of the songwriting itself, and how much is due to having John and Paul on backup vocals and magnificent production values. After all George, despite his many talents, was never the greatest of melodists (cf. “Handle With Care” above). Compare, for example, the next track on Revolver, “Got to Get You Into My Life”. Both songs have similar vibes, similar tempos, but Paul can get away with nothing more than [double-tracked] lead vocals, since the melody is so much stronger. That’s not to say one song is better than the other, just pointing out a difference in songwriting styles. In any case, though, whoever is responsible for the piano part in “I Want to Tell You” deserves a goddamn gold medal. -
Giant Robot — “Petro’s Bells”
It’s only a minute long, a throwaway track between ‘actual’ songs, but it almost sounds like it could have been the basis for a Flaming Lips song. -
The Rolling Stones — “You Can’t Always Get What You Want (live,
Flashpoint)”
They sound like they’re playing for a bunch of housewives, and it’s because they are. -
Dire Straits — “Setting Me Up”
This song doesn’t seem to do anything all that original—and I’m convinced there’s a crank somewhere on Mark Knopfler that you turn if you want a solo—but Dire Straits are masters of this form. -
Robert Johnson — “Malted Milk”
It really is impressive just how different from one another he could make his various songs. -
CMX — “Kuolemattomuuden ääni”
Don’t get me wrong, I like their early stuff fine, but CMX got a lot better when they moved away from hardcore, if for no other reason than that A.W. Yrjänä sings a lot better than he growls.
Indeed
August 17, 2007All things considered, yesterday was a very nice day, in many ways.
But seriously
August 10, 2007It just occurred to me that what I miss most about college—or school in general—is resolution: finishing one thing, and beginning another. Pass a course, great; you’re on to the next. Flunk it, it’s not even the end of the world; start over next semester. In moderation, at least, it’s no big deal.
This goddamn interminable sameness at work is, I’m pretty damn sure, what I really don’t like about it. I have coworkers who have been doing their job—my job—longer than I have been alive, and that’s terrifying and horrifying and unfathomable. Those people are obviously a hell of a lot better and faster and more efficient than I am, and they’ve been practicing for a hell of a long time, so more power to them. But if I’m going to spend a lifetime—a goddamn lifetime!—practicing a particular skill, I want it to be because it’s something I enjoy doing so much I want to do it for its own sake, not because getting better will let me go on ratrace-autopilot for 40 hours a week until I retire.
Or maybe I’m just making excuses.
Of course, the other nice thing about school is winter and summer breaks. Which are nice for their own sake, but also serve to reinforce the episodic nature of the experience—again, unlike the sameness of work.
Seven months ago I came down with pneumonia. It was a miserable ordeal, but I loved it. Why? It gave me a plausible, undeniable excuse to do absolutely nothing for a week. Not a care in the world, other than the sickening feeling of drowning in my own lungs, and wishing the bathroom were closer because walking 20 feet made me winded. On balance, though, I’m almost wistful for it, because it was a nice interlude. And that’s all I really want.
Recursive dreaming
August 9, 2007I’ve had this recurring dream, or perhaps more of a recurring setpiece, that’s never exactly the same but always involves some kind of trek through a gargantuan and entirely disorganized library, really more just a building full of books than a library in any meaningful sense. The architecture is always vaguely forbidding with a sense of former glory — the kind of thing that wouldn’t look out of place on some kind of Very Prestigious University campus — with lots of coffered ceilings and magnificent staircases, and walnut paneling everywhere. And, of course, books all over the goddamn place, with not a shelf or a card catalog to be found. Books in every nook and cranny, books filling corridors almost to the ceiling so you have to climb up the pile and crawl across if you want to get through, books of every shape and description. Sometimes the point of being there is to try and find one particular volume, other times it’s just to get out the other side of the building, but in every case it’s more about the journey than the destination — going through, over, around, under, past these enormous stacks of books.
Anyway, last night it showed up again, and I mentioned to somebody in the dream that it reminded me of a recurring dream I get.
(Super?) power
August 1, 2007I can travel through time, but only in one direction.
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