New Years Resolution(s)

Commit to a diet.
Lose weight.
Say to myself for the first time, "Damn, you look good."
Figure out how to save money.
Figure out how to earn money.
Combine the previous two resolutions into great wealth.
Donate more money/tithe (so much for that last resolution.)
Learn the stock market.
Avoid the stock market.
Be more helpful for friends/family/employers.
Spend more time with people.
Meet more people.
Stay in touch with past people.
Drum more.
Learn new things on drums.
Figure out how to tune my drums.
Learn new songs on guitar.
Stop playing the same songs on guitar over and over.
Finally write that awesome Number 1 hit that I always swear I'm capable of.
Keep a diary.
Take note of everything going on around me.
Improve my memory.
Combine previous three resolutions into killer essays/books/articles.
Learn new talents.
Commit to new talents I try to learn.
Find confidence.
Be bolder.
Be stronger (physically, spiritually, emotionally...)
Be awesomer.
Create new words like "awesomer."
Find a job.
Find a job.
Find a job.
Define "independent."
Figure out how to say goodbye to Athens.
Do everything I've always wanted to do in Athens.
Cave and finally buy a Blue Eagle t-shirt and Donkey bumper sticker.
Find a new residence.
Figure out my life.

King of the Mountain (Best of 08)

High Fidelity is one of my favorite movies. I feel like so much of my life is represented in it: record collecting, a life defined by music, romance, Chicago (though not the fact that the lead character is a hopeless, depressive music snob. I like to think I'm not hopeless and depressive.) The part of the movie I find I relate to the most, though, is the lead characters' incessant need to rank everything (mostly music) into Top 5 lists, and to spend a countless amount of time arguing the results.

I do this a lot, usually with music. You never know when someone will ask you what your favorite five records of the new millennium are (Sufjan Stevens' Illinois, Arcade Fire's Funeral, White Stripes' Elephant, Coldplay's A Rush of Blood to the Head, and Beck's Sea Change are my current lineup, for the record.)

So now is the time of year when Top 5 lists (or Top 10, Top 50, Top 100, etc.) are most prominent - the end of the year. "Best of 08" lists are everywhere, ranking everything from the past year that we were all supposed to have loved. These lists will have you believe that their tops are the tops of the tops, and explain in convincing (and often arrogant) fashion that you've loved nothing unless you love what they love.

I used to get upset when I read these lists; I couldn't believe certain publications would have the audacity to leave certain things off their list, while putting others entirely too high. I'd argue and argue until I was blue in the face why they were wrong. Nowadays I don't let myself get too hot and bothered about it; their opinion is their opinion, that's fine. I will, however, still argue their selections. (Heretofore everything else mentioned is regarding music.)

For example, Pitchfork was way too obsessed with disco and dance this year. Rolling Stone had no business putting the Jonas Brothers in their Top 50. And Paste? Making She & Him's
Volume 1 Number 1 when few publications even had it on their radar? And putting TV on the Radio at Number 50? No excuses!

As always, I'm left to create my own "Top" list that rights the wrongs of the "professionals" (whose lists have been accumulated here.) And I'm doing it here because I don't get to do it in the newspaper anymore (RIP, Athens Insider.)

This year is an interesting year for me to pick a "Top" list for music, particularly because not a whole lot completely wowed me (except, of course, for this record.) Last year featured a solid batch that was really tough to choose from; of Paste's Top 25 records, I owned 16 of them. This year, I only own 11 of their Top 50. Alas, I shall try.

Without further ado, my 10 favorite records of 2008:

1. Bon Iver, For Emma, Forever Ago - We can all thank the ex-girlfriend of Wisconsin songwriter Justin Vernon for helping produce the best, most beautiful - and painful - record of 2008. As the story goes, after said ex-girlfriend (Emma?) broke up with Vernon, he retreated to a cabin in the woods of Wisconsin for a winter to create this heart-wrenching, epic confession. It's bare - mostly acoustic guitar and Vernon's sad croon - but the double-tracked vocals and layered harmonies build it into a strong stance of faith for Vernon, a proclamation that through the darkness of loss, there is still light on the other side. All I know is that if Vernon's rebound is this gorgeous, I can't wait to hear what he can create once reconciled from the loss.
This choice is particularly bittersweet for me, considering I was supposed to see him live in Chicago tonight. Alas, money/stress/weather prevented that trip, and I'm left to wait anxiously for his next tour.

Best Track: "Skinny Love"
Sample Line: I tell my love to wreck it all/Cut out all the ropes and let me fall
For more: http://www.boniver.org

2. Fleet Foxes, Fleet Foxes - The first sign that the full-length debut from Seattle's Fleet Foxes would be awesome is the album cover art - seriously, whoa. All medieval paintings aside, this 11-song affair harks back to the Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young days of pretty, harmonized folk, as the five dudes (nay, foxes) supply airy, ethereal vocals atop stomping, minimal percussion and bouncy acoustic guitar. All in all it's cheery folk parading lyrics of fantastical imagery - and yet not nearly as jarring and nerdy as that would sound. No, this album is not going to rewrite the books on indie folk, but it is a refreshing take on folk of decades past, when soaring, harmonized vocals were all you needed to hook a listener.

Best Track: "White Winter Hymnal"
Sample Line: Through the forest/Down to your grave/Where the birds wait/And the tall grasses wave/They do not/Know you anymore
For more: http://www.myspace.com/fleetfoxes

3. TV on the Radio, Dear Science - Back in 2006, TV on the Radio topped just about every "Best Of" list with their indie art-rock hit "Return to Cookie Mountain." While that record scored more points with critics than fans with its creative mix of electronics, noise, and rock 'n' roll, "Dear Science" brings it back to the catchy dance-rock we knew they had in 'em. Disguising political, satirical, and all-around down-trodden lyrics with upbeat rock and synthesized melodies, TV on the Radio here further the sexy new chapter of rock they're at the forefront of - indie dance-rock - while bringing it back a little closer to the fans who eat it up.

Best Track: "Golden Age"
Sample Line: Give it up/'stead of grabbing for decay/What we viewed as gold/I believe pollutes this space/And its grace ascending/Like a snake up your tree/Up your happy ending understanding/All your supposed to be
For more: http://www.tvontheradio.com/

4. The Avett Brothers, The Gleam II - While this isn't a popular pick on "Best Of" lists this year (mostly because it's an EP bridging their last phenomenal record, "Emotionalism," with their next, untitled, Rick Rubin-produced effort) the second "Gleam" EP by North Carolina's Scott and Seth Avett had me listening more than almost every other record this year. It's a six-song collection of stripped-bare ballads, veering away from the bluegrass-punk the Brothers specialize in. What you have hear is not a sample of the Avett's down-South acoustic musical wizardry, but rather a showing of their extraordinary songwriting skills. A good sign of things to come.

Best Track: "Murdered in the City"
Sample Line: Make sure my sister knows I loved her/Make sure my mother knows the same/Always remember there was nothing worth sharing/Like the love that let us share our name
For more: http://theavettbrothers.com/site.php

5. Sigur Ros, Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust - Prior to the release of this, Sigur Ros' fifth full-length (translation of title: "With a buzz in our ears we play endlessly"), the word was out that they'd shifted musical directions. While the their previous work had been electric, ethereal soundscapes of epic proportions (not unusual for songs to wander past the 8 or 9 minute mark), this was to be their "indie rock" effort. While that's no more apparent than on opening track "Gobbledigook," with its acoustic-pop brevity (3 minutes!), most of the rest of the album does slide back into old Sigur Ros ways. Of course, that's hardly a negative thing; the warmth of the Icelandic band's soaring songs is always good for a soothing, introspective calm in my ears.

Best Track: "Gobbledigook"
Sample Line: þú hatta fjúka lætur í loft/þú regnhlíf snú á hvolf allt of oft/ó nei, ekki, ó (don't worry, I don't know what it means either)
For more: http://www.sigurros.com/main/home/

6. Vampire Weekend, Vampire Weekend - These Ivy League dudes were all the rage for about two weeks back in January, when they were ushed to forefront of the indie scene as the "next big thing." Of course, it's a ruthless indie world out there, and they were kicked to the curb shortly thereafter, having been dismissed as "sell-outs" at the hands of the blogosphere even before their superb debut LP was released. It was all very confusing, signaling the potential dangers of the blogging world in creating a monster out of something that shouldn't be. This record also introduced the indie world to the term "Afrobeat," supplying yet another word to the dictionary of overly abused genre descriptors. In the end, Vampire Weekend did make a really phenomenal record, and will probably rise again (with or without the bloggers.)

Best Track: "Oxford Comma"
Sample Line: Why would you speak to me that way/Especially when I always said that I/Haven't got the words for you/All your diction dripping with disdain/Through the pain/I always tell the truth
For more: http://www.vampireweekend.com/

7. M83, Saturdays=Youth - French electronic artist Anthony Gonzalez provided this airy synth-pop addition to 2008, a bit more mainstream than his past works. While it still drowns in synth drones from time to time, it also includes more hooks and catchy melodies, like in single "Kim & Jessie." The sound is much more bright and optimistic than his previous records, but don't let it fool you - the lyrics are still hauntingly depressive.

Best Track: "Graveyard Girl"
Sample Line: Death is her boyfriend/She spits on summers and smiles to the night/She collects crowns made of black roses/But her heart is made of bubble gum
For more: http://www.myspace.com/m83


8. Frightened Rabbit, The Midnight Organ Fight - Though this Scottish band has all of the elements needed to become the next Snow Patrol (full alt-rock sound with catchy hooks), they trash them in favor of self-deprecating laments and pessimistic tales about how poor the hand is that they've been dealt. Alas, with the world crashing down all around them, these Scots still manage to pull off a deceivingly uptempo record brimming even with a few dim signs of potential hope. It's as if no matter how many times they get knocked down, they begrudgingly force themselves to get back up again - if only for the sake of getting knocked down once again.

Best Track: "The Modern Leper"
Sample Line: Is that you in front of me?/Coming back for even more of exactly the same?/You must be a masochist/To love a modern leper on his last leg/On his last leg For more: http://www.myspace.com/frightenedrabbit

9. The Walkmen, You & Me - Mixing low-fi indie rock with garage blues, the latest from NYC's The Walkmen has a sexy sort of soul, passion, and desire rolled up into a burst of rock 'n' roll. Lead singer Hamilton Leithauser's distinct warble wails over the simple instrumentation, driving an otherwise straightforward blues-rock record into classic indie rock territory.

Best Track: "Red Moon"
Sample Line: The red moon is rising behind you/The ocean is pounding away/I held up a light to the smoke but/The redness blows it away/And the night is cold/And the clouds go by/Tomorrow morning/I hope to be home/By your side
For more: http://www.myspace.com/thewalkmen

10. Coldplay, Viva la Vida - Okay, I know this isn't exactly a trendy pick outside of the Grammy's/Rolling Stone/every layman music fan, but you have to hand it to Coldplay - they made a pretty good record to follow up their so-so "X&Y." After that record came across as a much-recycled version of their masterpiece "A Rush of Blood to the Head," Coldplay didn't stick to their over-played guns and keep on with the same; they figured out a way to change it up. Now, I'm still weary of what Coldplay has become (success has gone to their heads; Chris Martin may or may not be turning into a wacko), but "Viva la Vida" was an incredibly fresh and enjoyable record.

Best Track: "Lost!"
Sample Line: Just because I'm hurting/Doesn't mean I'm hurt/Doesn't mean I didn't get what I deserve/No better and no worse/I just got lost/Every river that I've tried to cross/And every door I ever tried was locked/Ooh-Oh, And I'm just waiting till the shine wears off...
For More: http://www.coldplay.com/

Some music for your (happy) Thanksgiving

Yesterday was Thanksgiving Day, and I have a lot to be thankful for. Family. Friends. Beautiful girlfriend. A job (albeit a minimum-wage student desk job.) A forthcoming college degree (though we'll see in seven months how thankful I should actually be for that.)

One thing I am especially grateful for in this world is music. I've said before that there are two things I find constant in life: God and music. I'm not saying that God and music are the only two things worth living for, but they are certainly two things that will never go away (or at least, not until I'm deaf.) When I am down and when seemingly nobody understands what I'm going through, I can always find comfort in them.

So today I honor the music that is defining this period in my life. If you know me you know that my memory tends to work through music; all of the music I own and listen to defines certain chapters in my life. There are the metal stages (high school), folk stages (winters), punk stages (summers), techno stages (long story.) I even keep track on my iTunes individual playlists from the quarters in college, because each one of them tells a story of what my life was like in that time period.

So here we are now, rounding the corner into winter. Athens is dead and will be for the next six weeks, leaving me home alone working and procrastinating on Christmas shopping. This time of year is always very mellow for me, and my listening habits tend to reflect that; slow and melancholy, the only way you can define Athens in the winter.

That all being said, here's a look at what I'm listening to now:

Stars, Sad Robots: Excellent name for this six-song EP, and somehow, when you listen to it, you kind of get the idea why it was named that. Stars tend to create light-hearted indie pop, but this EP is what happens when you drown that in droning synths and sadness. I heard someone say a few months ago it's perfect 'fall music,' but I'd have to argue that the melancholy here demotes it to see-your-breath, leave-less-tree sorts of introspection; in other words, this is good 'winter music.'

Check the album out here.






Joe Pug, Nation of Heat: Another solid EP, this is the debut from young Chicago singer-songwriter Joe Pug. Pug assembles his acoustic-guitar picking, harmonica, and gravelly voice into literary folk music not dissimilar to Josh Ritter and even Bob Dylan (for comparison's sake.) Key track here is "Hymn #101," a sweeping confession of a song that features one of my recent favorite lines: "They say I come with less than I should rightfully possess / I say the more I buy, the more I'm bought / And the more I'm bought, the less I cost."

Check it out here.



Denison Witmer, Carry the Weight: I discovered Denison about a year ago when he played Baker Center here in Athens. I bought two of his records, Safe Away and Are You a Dreamer?, that day, and he has since become something of a favorite for me and Katie. His stuff is the kind of singer-songwriter acoustic pop that you listen to on a cold, quiet day - hushed finger-picking, oft-near-whisper vocals. Though a lot of his stuff is more depressing than I'd usually ask for (there's a reason he's been compared with Elliott Smith) I find I retreat to Denison more than a lot of other artists. His new effort though, Carry the Weight, is something of a change of pace. This album features a full band on nearly every track, as Denison veers more towards indie pop and away from acoustic, maybe in an effort to redefine and recategorize his stuff. It is catchy pop music, but not the Denison I expect. Good stuff, but not necessarily great - and not a good place to start listening to him. (For that, check out this website.)

Check out Carry the Weight here.


The Innocence Mission, Now the Day is Over: I stumbled onto this gem from folk quartet The Innocence Mission while browsing around eMusic. When I played it for Katie, she suggested I don't tell my friends I got it. Why? Because it's an album of 13 lullabies, including classics like "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," "What a Wonderful World," and "Edelweiss." Here they're stripped down about as much as they can be, perfect for the sleeping children this album was intended for - and for the mood I tend mellow into during break. Can't wait to watch the snow fall while listening to this stuff.

Check it out here.



More chill music to come!

Josh Ritter - Literary Folk Genius

Just as I find myself more and more fascinated with words and the various combinations in which we assemble them, I realize that I'm falling more and more for music with a literary edge. Used to be I just liked music that sounded good; now I'm drawn to the stories artists portray through a combination of lyric and tune (I think I just didn't give enough of my attention to the words of songs when I was younger. My mistake.)

I post on Sufjan Stevens a lot because he is so amazing at this sort of craft. He grabs my initial attention with a gentle hook or a lovely orchestration, but then he wrenches at my gut with soul-stirring revelations and beautiful tales of real, human emotion. This stuff usually captivates me so intensely because it is stuff I can relate to; I see the beauty in the world that some artists sing of. I feel the hope, the longing, the joy, the pain that they sing of.

That being said, I think Josh Ritter is one of the most brilliant songwriters of this generation. His music is wonderful - I think it can be dubbed 'folk,' though musical genre descriptions are way too broad these days - but the real kicker in his music is his words.

My personal association with Ritter began last year, when I bought his latest album, The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter (which I bought, interestingly, because some critics compared him to Sufjan.) I liked it a lot but probably didn't give it the proper attention I should have. Then, this April, I was fortunate enough to meet and talk with Josh after his show in Athens. The guy was so genuine and kind (the dude hugged us all), and his show so incredible, that I started digging deeper into his work.

The more I listened to Ritter, the more I realized that he is a genius (which very well could be true considering, according to his bio, both of his parents are neuroscientists.) His lyrics are mesmerizing, complex tales of hope, loss, love, and so much more, but the words don't get you on first listen; as with poetry, you really have to dissect what he is trying to say. When you do this, you find some startlingly profound stories drenched in raw, human emotion.

I could go on and on about how captivating literary music like Ritter's is for me, but you probably get the idea. It kind of goes back to my theory that the defining characteristics of our world are love and beauty; some artists seem to have figured this out better than others.

I'll leave you, though, with lyrics and a video of one of Ritter's songs, 'Girl in the War,' from his album The Animal Years. I have my own theories on what it's about, but feel free to craft your own; after all, as with poetry, figuring out what it all means is half the fun.

"Peter said to Paul you know all those words we wrote
Are just the rules of the game and the rules are the first to go
But now talking to God is Laurel begging Hardy for a gun
I got a girl in the war man I wonder what it is we done

Paul said to Peter you got to rock yourself a little harder
Pretend the dove from above is a dragon and your feet are on fire
But I got a girl in the war Paul the only thing I know to do
Is turn up the music and pray that she makes it through

Because the keys to the Kingdom got lost inside the Kingdom
And the angels fly around in there but we can't see them
I got a girl in the war Paul I know that they can here me yell
If they can't find a way to help her they can go to Hell
If they can't find a way to help her they can go to Hell

Paul said to Peter you got to rock yourself a little harder
Pretend the dove from above is a dragon and your feet are on fire
But I got a girl in the war Paul her eyes are like champagne
They sparkle bubble over and in the morning all you got is rain
They sparkle bubble over and in the morning all you got is rain
They sparkle bubble over and in the morning all you got is rain."

Smells

I am fascinated by how smell invokes memory. For instance, just now I was walking across my office and caught a scent that reminded me of a concoction I made with a toy chemistry set when I was a kid. I probably haven't thought of that chemistry set for ten years or so.

And I can't tell you how many times I've smelled something and thought, "This smells like Gak." Remember Gak? Crazy stuff.

*sigh*

This was on CNN.com today:

Palin: God will do the right thing on election day
FINDLAY, Ohio (CNN) –- In an interview posted online Wednesday, Sarah Palin told Dr. James Dobson of “Focus on the Family” that she is confident God will do “the right thing for America” on Nov. 4.

Dobson asked the vice presidential hopeful if she is concerned about John McCain’s sagging poll numbers, but Palin stressed that she was “not discouraged at all.”

“To me, it motivates us, makes us work that much harder,” she told the influential Christian leader, whose radio show reaches tens of millions of listeners daily. “And it also strengthens my faith because I know at the end of the day putting this in God’s hands, the right thing for America will be done, at the end of the day on Nov. 4.”

Dobson praised Palin's opposition to abortion rights, to which the governor affirmed that she is “hardcore pro-life.”

She said giving birth to her son Trig, who has Down syndrome, has given her the opportunity “to be walking the walk and not just talking the talk” in her long-standing opposition to abortion.
Dobson — who has never been warm to McCain — asked Palin if her “private conversations” with the Republican nominee had revealed a true commitment to the Republican party’s pro-life platform.

Palin assured Dobson: “John McCain is solidly there on those solid planks in our platform that build the right agenda for America.”

She also thanked her supporters — including Dobson, who said he and his wife were asking “for God’s intervention” on election day — for their prayers of support.

“It is that intercession that is so needed,” she said. “And so greatly appreciated. And I can feel it too, Dr. Dobson. I can feel the power of prayer, and that strength that is provided through our prayer warriors across this nation. And I so appreciate it.”

The interview was taped on Monday by phone while Palin was campaigning in Colorado Springs, where “Focus on the Family” is headquartered.

My words but not

I like words. It's why I write a lot and am a journalism major. I like the way they fit together and I like thinking of various combinations of them.

But I don't think that all of my words are from me. Ever had a random sentence stuck in your head for no good reason? One that sounds really good or just makes a lot of sense to you? Maybe it's just me, since I tend to think in abstract sentences a lot, but oftentimes deep thoughts seem to pop up out of nowhere.

Anyway, sometimes when I get thoughts in my head like that - ones that pop up seemingly out of nowhere - I like to grab a pen and write them down because I figure they may be important or at least noteworthy. And sometimes I just keep adding to them other words that come to my head, other things that seem to make sense to me.

It's called journaling (journalism? Hmm...)

So here's some stuff that I wrote down in my journal this past (particularly good) Monday... intriguing enough that I felt like sharing in case anybody else feels the same way. I really feel these words and live these words, and I'm thankful for them.

~

"I'm alive right now. Like, living and loving life... In my heart, in my mind, in my very being I love and am loved.

I like to feel. I like to live. I like to love. And I love life. A life granted and blessed by Jesus Christ. It is beautiful.

Sometimes I think the concept of beauty is the very meaning of life. It is at least the most wonderful thing I can think of.

And this beautiful world deserves more appreciation from me. Satan keeps throwing the pitfalls and despairs of normalcy and simplicity in the way of my path towards life, towards love, towards righteousness. I long to stride across these things and continue to pursue a more perfect being.

I am in love. And I am loved. If this world offered me nothing else, I would still have love, and this love would still offer me joy.

Celebrate the life you live, for there is beauty and there is love.

Praise be to God."

(One result when you type "beautiful" into Google Images)

Red America

I have seen Red America. And it exists in Lima, Ohio.

I went to Katie's hometown this past weekend to enjoy a relaxing weekend away from the craziness of school. It was a great weekend - albeit rushed - celebrating Katie's mom's birthday. Except for the parts when I was incredibly disturbed.

Lima is northwest of Columbus, south of Toledo - Republican country. I knew this, but I guess I didn't really expect to see what I did, especially coming from a town like Athens. McCain-Palin signs outnumbered Obama-Biden signs probably 100 to 1. Some yards had 4 or 5 McCain signs.

Ok, I thought to myself, so they like McCain more than Obama. They have that right (even if I disagree with them.)

But then I saw one of the scariest things I've ever seen before.

At the Christian book store Katie and I stopped at looking for a devotional to do together (turns out there aren't too many of those for pre-married couples), there was a best-seller shelf right at the front door.

And right on top was the biography of Sarah Palin.

Now, I've resisted from talking about politics here, mostly because I get way too hot and bothered when I talk about politics and I'd rather not have to type it all out. I could write a whole manifesto about what is wrong with our country (hmm maybe manifesto is the wrong word...) but I just don't have the time. And I will continue to hold back here - if you want to know my opinion, feel free to call me or visit me and we'll have a chat.

Suffice it to say, I find the McCain-Palin ticket - and for that matter, the Republican party - incredibly terrifying and divisive, and I find even more terrifying the Chrisitian response to it all. The right-wing, Evangelical sentiment right now is, I believe, the opposite of Christ-like.

Jesus Christ did not teach hate. He did not teach divisiveness. He did not teach what is happening right now in our country.

Did Jesus Christ teach the Democratic platform? Well, duh, of course not.

But I believe He would expect more from the United States of America right now.

OK that's all I'll say now, but like I said, I can go on and on if you feel like debatin'. Just message or e-mail or call or whatever.

I'll leave you with a satisfying clip.

There are better days

Some days are better than others.

In the days that seem to hold you down and suffocate you - those days where life's cruel sense of humor gets the better of you - you try to claw your way out by distracting yourself, denying that fire of stress, anger, and sadness that burns at you from within.

But that fire can only be suppressed by confronting it. And usually you can't confront it alone.

It's the constants in life that will fight the fire with you. Those things in life that show you nothing but love and peace, tranquility and purpose.

I'm not trying to wax philosophical here, just saying I'm having one of those days. By recognizing the humanness and worldliness of what I'm going through and by turning to my constants (God and music), I was able to turn a miserable 25-minute walk to work into a therapy session.

This song did a world of good to me this morning:

"Oh God, hold me now
Oh Lord, hold me now
There's no other man who could raise the dead
So do what you can to anoint my head

Oh God, where are you now?
Oh Lord, say somehow
The devil is hard on my face again
The world is a hundred to one again

Would the righteous still remain?
Would my body stay the same?

Oh God, hold me now
Oh God, touch me now
There's no other man who could save the dead
There's no other God to place our head

Would the righteous still remain?
Would my body stay the same?

There's no other man who could raise the dead
So do what you can to anoint my head
Oh God, hold me now
Oh Lord, touch me now."

- 'Oh God, Where are You Now?' by Sufjan Stevens

Here's a video of the song, only for the purpose that you can hear the song (not entirely sure what the graphic is all about.)

It's ok, I know you're jealous

As Democrats and Republicans waged war against each other over the right to be patriotic, the right to be religious, and the right to be a woman or a black man, one group smote the strategists and the naysayers, rising from the ashes of a fallen America, conquering the minds and the hearts of its people while rocking the socks off the children and the elderly. They dazzled common citizens with a dizzying array of ear-splitting guitar riffs, thundering bass notes and crushing machine-gun drum solos. And through it all they delivered their tropical bretheren into the promise land of a hope-filled future.

That group was Bananarchy.


B-A-N-A-N-Archy from Ryan Schlagbaum on Vimeo.

Mama, I'm comin' home

Never really read the lyrics to this song, so I now realize how terribly twisted it is. Anywho, here it is for you, by the great Ozzy Osbourne.

To all my friends in Athens, I'm comin' home.

"Times have changed and times are strange
Here I come, but I aint the same
Mama, I'm coming home
Times gone by seem to be
You could have been a better friend to me
Mama, I'm coming home

You took me in and you drove me out
Yeah, you had me hypnotized
Lost and found and turned aroound
By the fire in your eyes

You made me cry, you told me lies
But I cant stand to say goodbye
Mama, I'm coming home
I could be right, I could be wrong
Hurts so bad, its been so long
Mama, I'm coming home

Selfish love yeah were both alone
The ride before the fall
But I'm gonna take this heart of stone
I just got to have it all

Ive seen your face a hundred times
Everyday weve been apart
I dont care about the sunshine, yeah
cause mama, mama, I'm coming home
I'm coming home

You took me in and you drove me out
Yeah, you had me hypnotized
Lost and found and turned around
By the fire in your eyes."

Oh, but it gets better!

Haha oh man...

God. Have. Mercy.

Just venting

Thoughts on life:

Sometimes I hate being a journalist. And now I hate architects (forgive me, Mom; I strongly dislike architects.)

I've spent this summer completing an internship in Chicago, writing for an architecture magazine. Prior to this summer, I didn't know anything about the industry; everything I wrote was a new learning process. Over the course of the last 10 weeks, I've learned plenty (know the difference between an open plenum ceiling and a suspended one? I do), but maybe the most important thing I've learned is that I do not like this industry. And I do not like architects.

The big reason I do not like this industry is that the finer details - which are the details I write about - are just not interesting to me. There is a lot about architecture that is very interesting, and I've had the pleasure of learning all about Chicago architecture in particular. But the little stuff (ceiling systems, glass use, heating/ventilation systems, etc.) is just not that exciting. So I get bored - and distracted - easily.

As for architects, maybe I've just had bad experiences. Either way, every time I've encountered an architect this summer, they seem to look down their nose at me. They think they're something special because they're designing these multi-million-dollar skyscrapers, and apparently I'm nothing but a measly journalist with nothing better to do than to write about what they're doing.

The breaking point was yesterday. I had an interview with two architects that was awkward and embarrassing. The architects acted so perturbed that they had to waste their time with me, and they were so pompous. They made me feel so small, so inferior. And I hated it. Every second of it.

Well I have news for you, architects: I don't give a rat's patoot about what you do. I don't care how many skyscrapers you've designed. You're nothing to me but another Joe Schmo. All I ask is that you look at me the same.

This, on a broader aspect, is the big thing I hate about journalism. There have been so many times that subjects of mine have made me feel like so much less than them. They make me feel so worthless, as if I'm nothing more than an annoying little bug worshipping the ground they walk on by publishing a story on them. I am a waste of their time.

I hate feeling worthless.

I know that part me is just stressing about finding a job that I like and all, but it's legitimately scary that what I want to be when I grow up sometimes makes me feel so...sad. I see a lot of other journalists, and I see that they've just formed a shell to this sort of stuff. They play the role of bully or lapdog and they get the story they need, no big deal.

I don't like being a bully or a lapdog.

Sorry to vent, but this is stressing me out today. And I don't like to stress.

(How I) celebrate our world

Upon reading over my last post, I guess I should probably clarify in case someone finds it insensitive...

I'm not trying to say that nobody can worship to 'Christian music.' And I'm not trying to say that I've never worshiped to 'Christian music.' AND I'm not trying to say that 'secular music' is always healthy and worshipful. I'm just saying that I usually find God more often in music that is not necessarily considered 'Christian.' That's just how I roll. I'm not trying to say it's fact that 'secular music' is more worshipful than 'Christian music,' I'm just saying that more often than not I turn to certain 'secular music' to connect me more fully with God.

Here are lyrics to another Sufjan Stevens song - in fact, if someone were to ask me what my favorite song were, I'd say it's this one. It's another song that I can find God in, full of hope and beauty.

"I have called you children, I have called you son.
What is there to answer if I'm the only one?
Morning comes in Paradise, morning comes in light.
Still I must obey, still I must invite.
If there's anything to say,
if there's anything to do,
If there's any other way,
I'll do anything for you.

I was dressed embarrassment.
I was dressed in wine.
If you had a part of me, will you take you're time?
Even if I come back, even if I die
Is there some idea to replace my life?
Like a father to impress;
Like a mother's mourning dress,
If you ever make a mess,
I'll do anything for you

I have called you preacher;
I have called you son.
If you have a father or if you haven't one,
I'll do anything for you.
I did everything for you."

- For the Widows in Paradise, for the Fatherless in Ypsilanti

How to celebrate our world

I don't like 'Christian music.'

I put it in quotations because I don't think there is a such thing as Christian music. A lot of people call certain stuff 'Christian music,' but I don't think there is any kind of music that has a special claim to being Christian. Sure, some artists give a shout-out to God a little more directly than others, but that doesn't mean it's any more Christian than other stuff. It just means they're trying to tap into an existing wealth of 'good' Christians who listen to 'good' music, and by doing so relegate themselves to specific record store sections and radio stations.

But the music we have defined as 'Christian,' to me, too often forgets that you don't have to just regurgitate worship songs to really celebrate God, and you don't have to beat a dead horse by making it all sound the same. We don't need every song to be, 'God is great, God is good.'

Sometimes we can celebrate God simply by suggesting their is hope in this beautiful world, and by crafting beautiful, unique music to support that message. And that's why I love 'secular music.' I find that 'secular music' often celebrates life more than 'Christian music' by creating songs that remind you how wonderful God's creation is.

Mind you, I don't think it's wrong to listen to 'Christian music.' And I don't believe that all 'secular music' is good. I just find that I can worship God more through 'secular' music than I can through 'Christian.' And I think that Christians too often believe that 'secular music' is from the devil, or that the only music that is worthy is the stuff they've been told is 'Christian.'

So, that being said, here are some of my favorite 'secular' records that offer a message of hope - records through which I find myself connecting with God more than I ever could through any 'Christian' record:

- Michigan by Sufjan Stevens
- Seven Swans by Sufjan Stevens
- Cease to Begin by Band of Horses
- Joshua Tree by U2
- Emotionalism by The Avett Brothers
- Legend by Bob Marley
- A Rush of Blood to the Head by Coldplay

There are more that belong on this list, but for now, this is what I've come up with. These albums are full of hope but also love, beauty, justice, glory, and redemption, and celebrate God even if they don't always credit him directly.

I'll dwell on this topic more in the near future, because I know there is a lot that I'm missing. These are just my thoughts right now. I want to close, though, with the lyrics of a song by Sufjan Stevens. Stevens is, as many folks know, my favorite artist, because he creates songs that are immense and powerful even when they are gentle and vulnerable. He uses entire orchestras of instruments to celebrate life, but his music does not blatantly say, "Hey God, you rock." Rather, Stevens explores the beauties of life through mostly ambiguous messages, because he is trying his best to explain God's glory in the most humanly way possible.

"I'd swim across lake Michigan
I'd sell my shoes
I'd give my body to be back again
In the rest of the room

To be alone with you
To be alone with you
To be alone with you
To be alone with you

You gave your body to the lonely
They took your clothes
You gave up a wife and a family
You gave your goals

To be alone with me
To be alone with me
To be alone with me
You went up on a tree

To be alone with me you went up on the tree

I'll never know the man who loved me."

- To Be Alone With You

Lollapalooza Part 3 (and final reflections)

Sunday
Sunday was much more chill than Friday and Saturday, as Ben and the gang had gone home and I was left to wander alone among the festival's final acts. I really only had two bands that I cared to see that day - Iron & Wine and Flogging Molly - and was planning to go home before the final headlining acts, Kanye West and Nine Inch Nails, took the stage.

So I took the train in (God bless the weekend passes that let you ride an unlimited amount for $5) and made it to Grant Park just before Iron & Wine took the stage.

Iron & Wine - I&W is a moniker for songwriter Sam Beam, a small man with a lumberjack (or Viking?) beard whose recordings gained popularity because of their uber-hushed, gentle tones (rumor is he recorded his early stuff in a room next to that of his sleeping child, thus the hushed-ness.) Beam's last record, 'The Shepard Dog,' was a change of pace from his previous work, employing more percussion and instrumentation that gave it almost a Mediterranean feel, a move that was neither selling out nor overachieving - it was just good. And proof that the man is one of the best modern songwriters. His live show, I found, must be a change of pace from what he used to do as well: his set at Lollapalooza, as best I can describe it, was jam-band-ish. Which isn't a bad thing, but it also wasn't the greatest. I realize it was Lollapalooza, and a festival of that caliber requires something with a little more pep than your recorded material, but I found that I got kind of bored with the set from time to time (of course maybe I was just distracted by the annoying stoned dude next to me who kept writhing around in some sort of way that I'm sure he considered dancing.) Either way, I was glad to see it, and in all honesty, was impressed that Beam had more tricks up his sleeve than what his early material may have implied. Can't wait to see what he does with it next.

Thankfully, Flogging Molly was playing on the stage closest to Iron & Wine, and right after them (literally right after the last note of Beam's set, Flogging Molly took the stage and kicked off their set) so I didn't have to go far to catch my next desired show.

Flogging Molly - Ah, Flogging Molly - proof that sometimes music is meant to be nothing more than just a ton of fun. These dudes - nay, in the Irish spirit, these bastards - throw one heck of an Irish rock (or Celtic Punk, as it's been called) jamboree, and I was happy to be a part of it. They ripped through a set of fast-paced, fiddle-and-accordion-and-banjo-laced rock tunes, with lead singer Dave King expertly handling the crowd between songs. The crowd was digging it, as I could especially tell following the show, as fans departed literally drenched in sweat. Honestly, I probably would have enjoyed it more if I'd had friends their to dance with (and if I'd put a few back before the show) but I still had a blast, and will happily see them again next time they swing through Ohio. As for their recorded material, I strongly recommend it for those times that you just want to celebrate life, dance, and pump your fist in the air.

After the masses scattered following Flogging Molly's rollicking set, I made my way over to the stage for Girl Talk, a DJ who is huge on the indie circuit and who specializes in mashing up hundreds of popular songs into dance tunes. When I got to the stage, however, I realized it was surrounded by maybe 10,000 ecstatic fans (the stage was set up in an area for maybe half that) so I didn't stick around for long. I heard people danced around stage and had fun though. Oh well.
So I walked back over to the stage Flogging Molly had played on and waited for the next band, The National, to start. The National is a group out of Cincinnati who had their 15 minutes of fame, receiving rave reviews for their album 'The Boxer,' which really is quite good, if you're into that piano-driven alt-rock kind of thing.

The National - Another set that just didn't translate well from record to Lollapalooza stage; these guys are good at what they do, but I got really bored. Maybe it was because I was exhausted from the three-day weekend. I don't know. Either way I just lost interest. They're a great band, but I need a little energy to keep my attention; I need a little something different than what I'm expecting.

And that brings me to my final reflections on my Lollapalooza weekend. Basically, my ticket was paid off from seeing Radiohead and Rage Against the Machine alone. Like I said before, that crossed two bands off of my 'see-before-I-die' list, leaving only U2 left (though I'm sure I'll add more; for instance, I know I have to see Sufjan Stevens live someday.) So I don't regret spending $200 for the weekend, not in the least (though my bank account is aching right now; darn you Perry Ferrell for charging so much!) But I couldn't help but think about Athens as I went from stage to stage last weekend.

You see, I saw a lot of great bands at Lollapalooza, sure, but I guess I found myself expecting to be more impressed by the bands I was excited to see. It wasn't the bands' faults, though; rather, I think it was the fact that I was seeing the bands with 75,000 other people, most of whom were drunk or stoned. It was the fact that the shows weren't personal in the least because every single one of them was crowded by thousands upon thousands of folks, many of whom were there for other bands (or to just get stoned in public without getting in trouble for it.)

For me, a concert is an experience. It's about connecting with the band and all of the other people surrounding you, who are witnessing what you're witnessing. It's about an energy, be it a adrenaline-fueled one or a toned-down emotional one. It's about the setting - the way you feel crowded in with the sound and surrounded by it. And honestly, I just couldn't really get those feelings at Lollapalooza. It had it's moments, but I just couldn't connect with the bands in the setting I was in. I couldn't feel that energy that I love to feel at shows. Like I said in this post and others, I really did enjoy a lot bands. But I would have rather seen them all play in a bar.

Which brings me to my point on Athens. Lollapalooza reminded me how truly great the Athens scene is, and how much more appreciation it deserves. Great bands play at several bars every weekend. They cost a couple bucks to attend, and you crowd into a small venue with other people who came to catch a good show. Not all of the bands are great, but you usually can find an energy to feed off of, be it from the band or the crowd. Every show you go to is an event, not just a performance. And that's where Lollapalooza lacked.

Plus, in Athens, you don't have to run 2 miles to try to catch another band. Everything is right there for you.

Ultimately, as I said, I don't regret going to Lollapalooza. But it has helped me appreciate how lucky I am to have Athens. It's a mini-Lollapalooza in my own backyard, only for way cheaper.

May I take advantage of it all the more this year.

Lollapalooza Part 2

Saturday (remember that bit about almost not surviving? Yeah...)
Following the crazy bliss of Friday night's Radiohead show (and the 2 a.m. arrival back at my place, having missed the proper train back) my friends and I slept in Saturday. Ben and I were to be the only ones heading back that day - a ticket mix-up left me with both a three-day pass and a Saturday pass, so I gave him the Saturday pass - and we decided to head downtown later in the day, meet up with some other friends, and tour the city a bit.

Ben and I eventually made our way into Lollapalooza on Saturday around 4:30 in the afternoon. We were both pumped - Rage Against the Machine was scheduled to hit the stage at 8:30 that night, and we were both anxious to experience that show (because we're huge fans and because we didn't know what to expect, considering they are a bit, well, heavy.)

The afternoon and evening preceding RATM was a blast (and again, these are not my pictures, just some I borrowed from Lollapalooza reviews on the web.)

Explosions in the Sky - The first band we saw Saturday. These atmospheric prog-rockers are one of my favorite bands; their instrumental tunes are absolutely beautiful, ranging from gentle melodies to heavy riffs. When I think of the term 'soundtrack to my life' literally, these guys come up - their songs often seem to be the perfect musical accompaniment to life's simple moments (and of course, they actually have done a soundtrack, the gorgeous one for 'Friday Night Lights.') Their live show translates their sounds well, which means a lot of head-bobbing and swaying - then the occasional head-bang when they burst into a heavy jam. The great thing about this band, I believe, is that they are universal; they're simple yet complex, and their music can impact literally anybody.

Following Explosions in the Sky, Ben and I sprinted to the other end of the park (maybe 2 miles?) to try to catch Brand New, but apparently they had wrapped their set 20 minutes early. So we ended up trekking back to the North end to catch Okkervil River.

Okkervil River - I really don't have a ton to say about these guys. I have some of their material, and I'm guessing I'd like it better if I gave it more attention, because they're what I would describe as literature-indie-folk-rock. They're live show was good, but nothing ground-breaking. I bet if I saw them in a bar they would really rock.

Battles - We hauled it back to the other side after Okkervil River to catch Battles, a band that many describe as 'math-rock.' I guess that's pretty appropriate; they combine complex rhythms and synthetic beats to create a sort of rock-techno amalgamation. I got their record last year when it came out because critics went gaga over them - and it's pretty good stuff. Some more stuff to bob your head to. These dudes are some kind of talented though. Those rhythms and beats are way over my head.


Following Battles, the only other act Ben and I really cared to see was Rage Against the Machine. So we wandered around during sets by rapper Lupe Fiasco and old Texan rockers The Toadies. We wanted prime position for RATM - somewhere close to the exit so we could make it to our train, away from the mosh pits, but still fairly close - so we about an hour before the set we hit up the porta-potties in preparation for the show. And we waited. And we waited. Ever waited 20 minutes in line to pee? I have now. It ain't fun.
After we relieved ourselves, we managed to get the perfect spot for Rage: about 100 yards from the stage, stage right, away from the mosh pits, with a decent view if we stood on our tip-toes. The people around us seemed chill, too, which is a huge factor for me at a concert, so my neighbors won't distract me.
I should preface with my relationship with Rage Against the Machine, the rap-rock foursome who ruled politico-airwaves in the 90s before breaking up in 2000 (seriously, if only they had been a band for the Bush administration...bad timing I guess.) I had heard their stuff and knew what they were all about back in high school (I even wrote a paper about them in 9th grade), but didn't really ever get into them. Then I started listening to their song 'Guerilla Radio' for whatever reason, and it became my 'pump-up song.' As in, play it and I go wild, adrenaline pumping, air-guitar in full glory. My friends all know this; sometimes they play it just to mess with me. Anyway, I started getting more of their stuff, and they became my go-to band when I really needed some energy. Plus, because of their crazy-awesome ways, I declared them a 'must-see' live band.
And I got to see them!

Rage Against the Machine: The show started with the wail of a siren, which relayed into their bombastic opener 'Testify.' As soon as that electric guitar kicked in (guitarist Tom Morello is quite literally one of the best at what he does) the crowd went nuts, jumping up and down and shouting. I expected it; like I said, they're really heavy, and fans have been waiting years to see them play live again (they're on a reunion tour.) Since folks around me were pretty chill, I didn't realize just how crazy the crowd really got, but at the end of the second song, singer Zach de la Rocha cut it short, and pleaded with fans to step back because people up front were literally getting crushed. This was the first of three times he made the plea; apparently it was some pretty serious stuff down front. Throughout the show streams of people were passing us as they made their way towards the back, and it was kind of creepy to look at them - a distant look in their eyes suggested it was truly wild up front (or they just had a concussion.)
Funny thing is, as the show went on, Ben and I were probably going the craziest amongst the people around us (given the circle they formed around us). Like I said, RATM pump me up, so I my adrenaline was really kicking (especially during 'Guerilla Radio.')
Rage's set was awesome, and considering I was in the comfort of a fairly laid-back section of the crowd, I was able to appreciate just how rocking it was to be there. But alas, Ben and I had a train to catch, so we decided to leave a little early.
Problem was, when we left just so happened to be the end of Rage's regular set. So thousands of other fans decided to leave too. And when we reached the exit, we discovered that hundreds of people were blocking it. So push came to shove.
Remember the bit about not knowing if I was going to survive? This is where that came into play; it wasn't from some dangerous mosh pit. It was from exiting the show. Basically, you had thousands of people pushing on one side, and hundreds - maybe thousands - pushing back on the other, waiting for the encore. And what's worse, we were going up steps. And Ben and I were in the middle. I kid you not when I say I wondered if I would make it out alive. I was crushed between people, couldn't budge. I felt claustrophobic. And I kept wondering what would happen if this mass became panicked.
In the end, my side pushed harder. Ben and I came out the other end alive, and as soon as we tasted free air, we bolted, hardly stopping before we reached the train station (on time, I might add.)
So the show was a crazy experience. And I had a scary moment, but when I read the news reports the next day, maybe not as scary as others had. The dangerous Lollapalooza crowd at the Rage show made national headlines, with many reports of people going to the hospital, as well as reports of boneheaded fans making the show a hostile environment. Even the bottleneck I got caught up in is in some of the reports. Click here to get a report and pictures of the insanity.

Overall, my experience at the Rage Against the Machine Lollapalooza performance was exhilarating, and the scariness of the end didn't ruin it at all - just gave me an interesting story I survived to tell my kids some day.

Also, here is some video of the night. The first is of the beginning of the show, the second an idea of what the streets of Chicago became after each night (this particular night being after the Rage show.)

Lollapalooza Part 1

So I survived Lollapalooza 2008. Act surprised, go ahead - there was a time when I didn't think that first sentence would be true. It's a long story. So I'll tell it.

A blow-by-blow of my three-day weekend in Grant Park, Chicago (in three parts to break it up a little; and these aren't my pictures, just ones I stole off the internet - wasn't willing to bring my camera with me):

Friday
I ditched work early in the afternoon so I could start my Lollapalooza weekend early. Upon meeting some friends back at my place, the four of us took a train into the city and hauled it over to Grant Park, about 10 blocks east of the train station. We passed through the front (and only) Lollapalooza gate around 5:30, joining roughly 75,000 other people at the glorified county fair (call me a cynic but the only thing separating Lollapalooza from the Athens County Fair is the band lineup...haha ok, couldn't say that with a straight face. And I guess it was a lot more than a glorified county fair. But you get the idea.) We shuffled through the masses to the north end of the park to catch a few bands before Radiohead went on at 8.

Cat Power: I'm not a huge fan of Chan Marshall aka Cat Power, but I've been known to listen to her stuff from time to time, and I bought her CD for my Mom for her birthday. It's alternative-indie-soul, and in the right mood is the right stuff. Lollapalooza is no place to set that right mood. We only caught about half of her set, but it was uninteresting, mostly because there were several thousand (drunken beligerent) people crowded around the stage waiting to be impressed. Cat Power gave her all, but there was nothing much more to it than what you could find on her CD.

The Raconteurs: Following Cat Power's set, we pushed through to get a good spot at a nearby stage for The Raconteurs, Jack White's band that isn't the White Stripes. I have their two CDs, and listen to them from time to time (another mood thing; they're good for the energetic need-something-in-the-background mood) so I was excited to see them play. They didn't disappoint; their set was energetic and rocking, mostly because Jack White is an absolute beast. We left early though, because Radiohead was playing at the exact opposite end of the park, about 2 miles away, and we wanted good positioning.

Giving ourselves a full hour before Radiohead took the stage, we abondoned The Raconteurs with 20 minutes left in their set, assuming we were ahead of the game by heading to the other stage early. Well, we weren't alone. As we left, the mass exodus had already begun. Everybody wanted a prime position for Radiohead.
The stage Radiohead was playing on was at the head of Hutchinson Field, which is a huge lawn filled with baseball diamonds, surrounded on each side by a small mound. As soon as we crested that mound, I was astonished; people everywhere. Literally a sea of people.
Lucky for us, the sea of people didn't stop us from getting close to the stage. By rounding the outside of the crowd and sticking with an off-center position, we managed to get within about 50 yards or so of the stage. I was pumped.

Radiohead: If you've ever asked me who my favorite band is, my answer was probably Radiohead. My history with them started begrudgingly; I used to hate them in high school, but upon reading so much great acclaim about them, I decided I should give them a shot, buying OK Computer and Kid A. I figured I'd force myself to like them. In the end I didn't need to force it; they quickly became my favorite. If you've never listened to them, do so. Anyway, the show was incredible, despite my being pressed tightly against the sweaty bodies of strangers, loud talking from uninterested fans, and the constant waft of weed smoke. I wasn't about to let any of that bother my witnessing one of the greatest bands ever.
The band ended up playing, I think, 24 songs, one regular set and two encores. The set featured material from nearly all of their albums, and included some of my favorite songs: 'Idioteque,' 'Fake Plastic Trees,' and 'Paranoid Android.' A six-by-two grid of screens displaying the band flanked the stage, and long pillars of light hung from the stage roof. Thom Yorke wailed in all his glory, Johnny Greenwood bobbed his head toward the floor the entire time, and the rest of the band played accordingly. It was beautiful. Fireworks even erupted during 'Fake Plastic Trees,' a novelty that I thought would ruin the song, but which was surprisingly fitting in the end. A wonderful concert experience (though next time, I'll hope to see them play a smaller venue.)

The rest of Friday didn't go as well. Because we filtered out with 75,000 other people, we missed our train, and had to spend 2 hours exhausted in Union Station waiting for the next. But the day was well worth it, and the ticket price ($200 for a weekend pass!) was pretty much paid off in my eyes. But there was much more to come! More on that (and pictures, not that I took, but some to give you an idea) in another post...

Headed to the 'Palooza

I once established that there are three acts I want to see perform live before I die: U2, Radiohead, and Rage Against the Machine. This weekend I'm going to knock out the latter two at Lollapalooza, held at Grant Park downtown.

If you know me well then you know I tend to clam up around big crowds. This weekend I'll be shoving in with 75,000 other people who have come from across the country. So it should be a good time.

I'll have more to report on Monday I'm sure. For now, I have to devise a way to leave work early. I can't believe I'll be watching Radiohead live tonight...

Old-timey

Ok, I like to brag about this girl a lot. So sue me.

I mentioned in an earlier post how I've recently begun a foray into photography. The reason for this is that I came into possession of my mom's old Nikkormat camera, from the early seventies (if you're reading this mom, sorry for aging you.) When Katie was in town back in June, we were able to play with the camera and see what it could do.

We got a lot of great shots (on the rolls that worked; unfortunately, I'm still learning how to load the film, and two rolls turned up blank) and a lot of shots that proved I'm no expert photographer. I am, however, learned on the Photoshop, so I managed to save a handful (like the one above; originally really bright, but I restored it to its rightful greatness.)

Anyway, the thing that has struck me the most about playing with a nearly 40-year-old camera is how cool the pictures look. The pictures actually look like they're from the seventies. And to me, that makes them better.

Why do I think this? I don't know. I don't have a super-awesome-modern digital camera, so most pictures I usually take with my digital camera are pretty basic.

But I think there is something about nostalgia that makes things cooler. There's something about that old-timey feel that brings out a joyful sensation, like, 'ah, those were the days.' Sure, you can look at any picture and feel nostalgic for the memories, but when the pictures are older (or look older, in this case), you almost feel transported to a whole new world, a whole new time.

Some random thoughts, maybe it's just me that thinks that; anybody else get that sense?
Oh, and here's another for good measure :)

Where we tend to vent

Last weekend I went to the Art Institute of Chicago with my parents while they were in town to visit. I like museums, but I don't actively seem them out - I was glad to have a reason to go.

The Art Institute is a fairly famous museum, home to such paintings as Grant Wood's 'American Gothic' and Georges Seurat's 'A Sunday on La Grande Jatte,' and our trip was pretty fun, especially considering I took an art appreciation class in spring and recognized some of the work.

The part about our trip to the Institute that caught me off guard was how much my mom knows about art. Maybe I'm just a terrible listener, or maybe it was just never brought up, but apparently she studied art in Paris when she studied abroad there. (Who knew?) As we walked the halls of the institute, she went from painting to painting commenting on the artist or movement each piece of work reflected. I was impressed.

No work at the museum excited my mom more than those from the Impressionist period. She happily described how the movement was a change from the clear-cut, hard-edged depictions of life to softer, looser, more expressive depictions (from this to this.) It gave her great joy to go from piece to piece detailing her thoughts on each, and I found myself sharing in that joy.

The joy I found mostly stemmed from discovery - as I viewed each painting, I searched the canvas for some sort of deeper meaning, some lost emotion that the artist was trying to share with me. It was fun, it was refreshing, and it reminded me why I love music - and for that matter, most art.

You see, the way I see it, art is a reflection of the collection of thoughts, emotions, pains, joys and wonder that we all experience within ourselves. Art is a reflection of what makes us each unique; it is our representation of what we can not put simply into words, of those things that constantly weigh on us and excite us and drive us to live life. Every being experiences love, joy, pain, anger, humility, sadness - it is how we handle those experiences that sets us apart from each other. And in art we have a way to vent, to organize those experiences and create something physical, something real out of them. By doing this we are able to make sense of our feelings, and we are able to connect with others who can relate.

Artists like Seurat and Monet and DaVinci have done this. So have Lennon, Dylan and Hendrix. Same with Hitchcock, Scorsese and Tarantino. For some it is painting, for others film, for others maybe Play-doh.

For me, I find solace in writing, and I find solace in music. I try to vent through the writing, and I try to connect through the music. And if you're reading this now then you know how bad I am at keeping up with the writing.

So I usually clasp to music. There are songs that describe my every emotion - whether I'm sad, happy, angry, or simply in love with life, there is music that I can turn to that does a better job describing that emotion than I could ever do. Music takes the weight of my pent-up emotions and releases it by making form of it.

I find it in music in two forms that so beautifully intertwine with each other: in the musicianship and in the lyrics. The musicianship is what tends to catch my attention first; be it tender guitar picking or killer riffs, the right tempo and right melody set the mood for the story a song will tell. And the lyrics tell that story through words big and small, through sentences long and short. When these two elements are put together, they transport me to another place and help make sense of this life I'm living.

Mind you, I don't just listen to music that describes exactly what I'm feeling. For example, I still listen to sad break-up songs, even though I am so much in love with Katie that I could never understand the pain those songs describe. Denison Witmer is one of my favorites, but his songs are clearly influenced by at least one painful break-up. And a lot of stuff I listen to doesn't even have sensible lyrics; Sufjan Stevens, my favorite artist, usually sings of imagery I can relate to, but his state albums have a lot of lyrics that come across as nonsense. Not all of the music I listen to perfectly describes my life, but there is something in the way they create it that makes me understand what they are feeling, that transports me to their shoes, and I am able to find joy in discovery.

Kind of like when I was looking at the paintings at the Art Institute.

There is much more I could say about this; I've written about it in the past and I'll write more in the future. It was the reason I started this blog - to talk about the music that is describing my life. But for now, I'll sign off with the lyrics of one of my favorite songs. It's one of those songs that rocks you to your core because you understand it; you can feel it, you have lived it. The song is called "The Ballad of Love and Hate" by The Avett Brothers. The last verse has brought me to tears more than once. I could tell you what the song is about, and what I think it really means, and why I am so moved by its tale, but I'll let you discover that for yourself (and I highly recommend listening to the song as well.)

~
Love writes a letter and sends it to hate.
"My vacation's ending, I'm coming home late.
The weather was fine and the ocean was great
and I can't wait to see you again."

Hate reads the letter and throws it away.
"No one here cares if you go or you stay.
I barely even noticed that you were away.
I'll see you or I won't, whatever."

Love sings a song as she sails through the sky.
The water looks bluer through her pretty eyes.
And everyone knows it whenever she flies,
and also when she comes down.

Hate keeps his head up and walks through the street.
Every stranger and drifter he greets.
And shakes hands with every loner he meets
with a serious look on his face.

Love arrives safely with suitcase in tow.
Carrying with her the good things we know.
A reason to live and a reason to grow.
To trust. To hope. To care.

Hate sits alone on the hood of his car.
Without much regard to the moon or the stars.
Lazily killing the last of a jar
of the strongest stuff you can drink.

Love takes a taxi, a young man drives.
As soon as he sees her, hope fills his eyes.
But tears follow after, at the end of the ride,
cause he might never see her again.

Hate gets home lucky to still be alive.
He screams o'er the sidewalk and into the drive.
The clock in the kitchen says 2:55,
And the clock in the kitchen is slow.

Love has been waiting, patient and kind.
Just wanting a phone call or some kind of sign,
That the one that she cares for, who's out of his mind,
Will make it back safe to her arms.

Hate stumbles forward and leans in the door.
Weary head hung, eyes to the floor.
He says "Love, I'm sorry", and she says, "What for?
I'm yours and that's it, whatever.
I should not have been gone for so long.
I'm your's and that's it, forever."

You're mine and that's it, forever.