Linnet's Blog

I'm Sorry It Didn't Work Out Between Us

2011-05-04T23:59:00.000-07:00

Inspired by the lack of inspiring activities in my life and an NPR "All Songs Considered" podcast I listened to on my afternoon run (in the SUN, no less!!! The sun. O, the sun.) I visit my neglected public musings venue.

The podcast focused on breakups. The breakups we have with favorite bands who, for various reasons, have disappointed us, let us down, changed or even stayed exactly the same while we changed. The first song played was from U2's I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got, "Stuck in the Middle," the album that caused the hosts, along with many folks who responded to their original blog post, to call it quits. I actually really liked that record and stuck with them through the Elevation tour. Didn't go, but would have had I the opportunity. ("Opportunity" did not include breaking down and paying what I considered too much money to sit in shite nosebleed seats at Key Arena. "Opportunity" would have meant being given a ticket. I have limits, even for bands I love.) It was the next record, How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb that I couldn't get behind. Even though I bought it. Did I even listen to it the whole way through? Maybe once. Maybe. And, fine, I admit it, I even bought their last album and am pretty certain that I have yet to listen to it. I wanted it to be good and I knew, instinctively, that it wasn't. I've had a long, steady and what I thought to be true, relationship with U2 since I was a wee thing trying to record "With or Without You" on a barely held together tape player at 2 am, because the DJ had been promising for hours that the song was coming up, soon. Ok, and maybe I had a mild case of insomnia back then and it wasn't really hours, but I distinctly recall keeping my fingers over the "play" and "record" buttons in tense readiness so that I could hit them that crucial second before the song started. (I would be lying if I said I'd been with them since Boy--I was only 13, tops, when "With or Without You" was on the radio and just coming into my own, musically.)

Well, it's time I came clean: U2 and I have broken up. Truthfully, we haven't been getting along together for several years now, and I have to say it was inevitable. I can still listen, with great fondness and enthusiasm, to their catalog up to a point--the one that includes I Do Not Want... I think that's completely likable, though certainly no culmination of years of honing talents of Joshua Tree or the freshness and driving energy of Boy, but it beats the pants off of all that has followed. By comparison, it's brilliant. Though a dull brilliance, I guess.

Along with U2, among others I agreed with, Sting was mentioned on the podcast, and I had to silently acknowledge that it was over between us, as well. I mean, I still like the first three solo albums (don't I?) but, geez louise, he got to be sooooo... soooo... adult contemporary. I'm not ashamed to admit that I have recently listened to Dream of the Blue Turtles--I bought the LP when I saw it at the Goodwill, last year--and "Do the Russians Love their Children, Too" takes me right back to the mysterious world of the Soviet Socialist Republic, the Cold War and fear of atomic annihilation. Ah, memories... But no way do I want to listen to him play a lute and sing jazzy madrigal chants. (I don't really know what he's doing nowadays, but somehow this is the picture of him, musically, that I have.) But if he walked into my yoga studio to take class, or even guest teach, I'd faint dead away. I broke up with musician, not the man.

Death Cab for Cutie and I just drifted apart, I guess. I still fondly recall the good times we had, and retain a mild curiosity about their goings on, but I'm not excited about the new record and have no compulsion to buy it. This is what probably happens more often than not, the drifting apart. Going our separate ways; sometimes it's because I simply cannot keep up. Music is, for me, similar to books. There is so much out there and so much to catch up on that doesn't even include all of the new stuff being produced. Besides being unaffordable to stay current while also embracing the past, there aren't enough hours in a day to listen to everything. And the older I get the more genres I encounter that I'd been closed to as a willful, narrowly focused (I don't want to say narrow minded, because I don't think that's fair. I was a kid, for cryin' out loud.) teenager that I want and need to explore. Unlike books, which can be borrowed for free from the library and then returned once consumed, I want to posses the music I discover and like. (Yes, music can be borrowed from the library but technically it should be returned without transfer of ownership... if you catch my meaning.) The financial aspect of music consumption is insurmountable and so must be more carefully considered--something that can freeze the decision making process.

Wow, life is rough, huh?

Other aspects of the band breakup that can be discussed at a later date were the This Artist Can Do No Wrong Even When They Do, What Was I Thinking/I Can't Believe We Ever Dated, It Ended Too Soon, I Wish You Were My Boyfriend, I'm Willing To Give it Another Chance.

I didn't really give this a ton of thought, didn't go through my CDs, records or iTunes to really look at who I don't listen to anymore or who I really, really need to have move out. I, sadly or no, clicked so much with what the NPR hosts were listing--holy cow, I feel the same way about so and so! I just fixated on those bands.

Some things to think about for next time...

Helpful Advice

2011-01-29T13:31:00.000-08:00

Student Loan Customer Service Rep: What was your degree in?

Me: Library and Information Science.

SLCSR: You should really get a library job, like at a school, or something.

Me: Yeah. Thanks. That's a good idea.

He meant to be encouraging, I think, but I question his knowledge of current events, you know, like the whole recession thing?

Besides not wanting to be a School Media Specialist (as they're called because school librarians need to be multi-useful to justify such a position and an education degree is also required) budget cuts have forced schools all over the country to eliminate these jobs, entirely. After all, what does a librarian do, anyway? They just check out books, right? If I worked as a librarian for a nonprofit, or in a school or a public library, after 10 years of loan repayment, as long as I've been in good standing, the remainder of my loans would be forgiven. While I was in school they added librarians to the list of Public/Community Service Jobs That Don't Pay A Lot So We'll Give You a Break On Your Loans professions. Of course, you have to be working in the field, not just be working, to qualify.

That's alright. My standard response to the question When are You Going to Be a Librarian has been to assure enquiring minds that I'm alright not being one; it also now includes, Hey! I have a masters, which is pretty cool, huh? (Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain. Look over here at my diploma, not my current employment status.)

Current Obsession

2011-01-08T13:19:00.000-08:00

I know I am late to discover him, but better now than never.
Josh Ritter.

(And it's not just because he's from my home state.)

Good Riddance, 2010!

2011-01-01T12:30:00.000-08:00

Favorite Live Shows, in no particular order:

The Walkmen/Helio Sequence
The National/Okkervil River
Built to Spill
Black Mountain (they opened for Black Angels, and though I liked the Black Angels, have seen them before, Black Mountain blew them to smithereens, in my book.)
Yeasayer
Bonnie "Prince" Billy and the Cairo Gang

Favorite Albums that I can think of at this moment; there were a lot of good ones...:

Teen Dream, Beach House
Odd Blood, Yeasayer
Gorilla Manor, Local Natives
Total Life Forever, Foals
Lisbon, The Walkmen
High Violet, The National (this one really grew on me the more and more I listened. I mean, I liked it but now i love it.)
The Monitor, Titus Andronicus
The Archandroid, Janelle Monae (O MY GOSH! Sooooooooooo good.)
Broken Bells, Broken Bells.
The Suburbs, Arcade Fire

Wow. I'm pretty sure I could add some more to this list but I think I'll leave it at that, for now.

Proud Accomplishments:

I graduated from grad school!!!
I started dating.
I can pay all of my bills and still afford yoga every month.
Weekend Silent Yoga retreat. (Mostly mediation and light yoga. I loved not having to talk to people. I didn't necessarily love having to deal with my own head, but it wasn't bad.)

What Kept Me Up at Night, Stressed Me Out, Ruined my Appetite and Gave Me the Blues or Sent Me into a General Malaise:

I graduated from grad school.
I started dating.

Weird Struggles

Reading an entire book--heck, even starting a book was hard.
   Kinda still is, but getting better. The first book I finished after graduating was The Women, by T. C. Boyle. It took me about two months to read. Two. Months. Then I just stuck to my newspaper and tidbits from The New Yorker. It wasn't even like I was surfing the web, or playing boggle online or even playing the XBox. I don't know what I was doing. Listening to music and staring off into the distance, I guess.

Watching a movie.
   Somehow, committing to a full length feature film was really, really hard. I wonder(ed) if it had more to do with being reminded that after Shawn moved to La La Land I watched a lot of movies just for something to do. Once school was done, and I didn't have papers and studying as a distraction, there it was. The break up of Linnet and Shawn. For real. And the weather was so awful. And I was just blue. Watching a movie somehow magnified all of the grey and loneliness and my state of lost. I should have cancelled my Netflix, but I found that I could digest television programs, because they were short, 45 minutes, tops. I took advantage of the streaming and watched both seasons of Dead Like Me and the really horrible two hour movie special made a couple of years after the show ended. Also, lots of 30 Rock. Truly one of the most exceptional comedies.

The Weather
   This is the first year that I can honestly say the Seattle grey/wet got to me. (See above for clues why this might have been.) Spring was cold, damp, grey. Summer, with the exception of a few weeks that were hot, sunny and even fun, was similar to spring. Fall stank, too. I have high hopes for winter. High hopes.

Super Cool Stuff:

I went to Florida, last January, to visit with Holly and her family. Got to spend time with two great nephews, my sister and her husband. In Florida. Where it was mostly sunny and definitely warmer than Seattle.

Blumenthal family reunion, 2010. Lots and lots of nieces and nephews. Siblings. Food. Dishes. Love. The Blumenthals of Delware were sorely missed.

I'm employed. Work too much between two jobs, certainly, but better than not working enough. (See "I can afford yoga every month" accomplishment.)

My mother came to visit me in October. I was very happy to have her here.

Stay Tuned... It's Almost 2011

2010-12-27T23:33:00.000-08:00

(This image in no way is meant to reflect 2010, even if sometimes I felt like it could easily be its mascot, as far as my world was concerned, that is. OK. Maybe I mean it just a teensy, weensy bit.)

I'm about to hit the hay, but I feel compelled to announce that I fully intend to write up a little something about this past year. Not a top 10, or anything--or even bottom 10, though this has been the kind of year where I'm pretty certain I could easily come up with one--but just some important turning points. It's been a doozy.

Oooooo... such a tease...

Gross

2010-10-22T18:15:00.000-07:00

My dear mother is visiting me this week. Except for today, I have been or will be working everyday that she's here, which is unfortunate. Thursday morning, while working the day job, my phone rings and I answer it when I see it's Mommy calling. (Typically, the ringer is off on my phone while I'm working but because she's visiting and she may have--will have--various geographical or household questions, I left it on.) Anyhoo. The phone rings. It's Mommy.

"Hello?"
"Hi. I was just wondering if you have any raisins?"
Pause.
Considering a reply.
Pause.
"Are you seriously asking me this question?"
Pause.
"Oh, yeah, that's right. I guess you wouldn't have any. I just wanted some raisins to go in my hot cereal."
"Uh-huh. Well, I still don't like 'em so I'm not going to have them around, but if you want I can stop at the store and buy some for you."
"No, that's alright."

This was all done with good natured chuckling though I really was taken aback that she actually thought I would have those disgusting, shriveled little bug parts in my home when I have never liked them and studioulsy picked them out of many an oatmeal cookie and steaming bowls of cream of wheat, oatmeal and malt-o-meal. Blech.

I love my mother. And I love her even more because she called to ask such an innocent question. Really.

Do I have any raisins. Sheesh.

Cocoa and Boingo

2010-10-18T21:23:00.000-07:00

Ahem.

Still here; I know it's hard to believe. Still navigating the post-graduation is this really where I'm headed and is it alright that I'm not bothered by it windy road. (Also, enjoying one of my favorite fall/winter dinners lacking much nutritional value... hot cocoa and buttered toast. Oat bran gazillion grain toast, at least.) But that's boring. Not the toast. That's delicious, dunked in the not too sweet cocoa--a pinch of salt really is a must to bring out the fullness of the chocolate. Boring is the I've gotten that higher higher education and am essentially where I was before, career-wise topic. Therefore, at least for the time being, I'll leave that off the discussion board. Yawn.

Instead, let's talk about how funny it is to be sitting at your favorite coffee shop, drinking an Americano, reading a New Yorker and a record you used to listen to all of the time and haven't heard in, quite possibly, 15 years or more is put on and it's as though you never took it out of rotation. Everything about it is so familiar and ingrained in your brain that you know exactly what song comes next, all of the words and even when side 1 ends and side 2 begins. I don't even own a copy, in any format, of this album anymore, though I might need to remedy that. (Oingo Boingo, Deadman's Party, by the way.)

On the rare occasions that I hear something of Boingo's, I always think about the time my friends and I went to see them at, of all places, the Maricopa County Fair (was that what it was called?). A mosh pit had formed and I was trying to get out of the fray but managed to get knocked down anyway, and as one of my friends was attempting to help me up he was thrown out by a security guard who mistakenly assumed that he was the one who shoved me. No protestations from either him or me could convince the guard otherwise and Dave (what was his last name?) had to miss the bulk of the show. I suppose we were seeing Boingo at the end of their career but we were still so excited. The band was as relevant to me--us--then as they had been when I was given a copy of Good for Your Soul while at the U. of Utah's Theatre School For Youth in 1985.

Nostalgia can be sweet.

Master of What?

2010-07-27T22:38:00.000-07:00

I think my diploma came in the mail on Saturday. Haven't opened it. I don't want. Somehow the prospect is... well, it's a little depressing since I'm doing nothing remotely related to what I just spent the past 2 1/2 years, not to mention what feels like a gazillion dollars, studying. I'm not too upset, I think, about how my career--really lack of a career--has shaped up thus far. I'm working at two places I really like; one is a great social outlet and fun and the other has the potential to turn into some very marketable skills. I certainly won't be the first body to go into something unrelated to all of the schoolin' I've been doin'. Still... this 8 1/2 x 11 cardboard envelope, sent first class mail and hand stamped "DO NOT CRUSH"... I'd rather not open it just now.

o dear.

Besides, I totally recognize that my unwillingness to move from the city of Seattle has hampered my ability to get work in my field. It's a failing that I have. Not wanting to move. For work. For a career. I know this and I accept it. Not that I'm absolutely against uprooting myself, but if I don't have to I don't want to. I like it here. I like being able to live in an affordable (so far) city that still offers a great amount of culture and people and food and a temperate climate. Even if it gets a bit unbearable every few years... this past spring was a doozy. And how.

Ok. I opened it. Pretty vellum diploma. Official transcripts, too. 3.898 GPA. (Darn that B in Cataloging and Classification.) Ugh. Kinda wish I'd left it unopened for a few more days. I wasn't ready to see that.

Yeah. Definitely not ready.

Master Babysitter

2010-06-22T09:51:00.000-07:00

In case any few who peek at these musings were wondering about my post graduate accomplishments let me sum up:

I have been babysitting a few hours a week.

I start training at a neighborhood restaurant tomorrow--that'll be a few nights a week.

I applied for umpteen receptionist/secretary/administrative assistant jobs and heard nary a peep from any of them.

Overqualified? Not using enough "key words" in my cover letter/resume? It's a very different world, this job hunting job, than it was a decade ago when I was looking for work. Before, you called a place, you mailed or faxed or dropped off your resume. You called back a week later to check on the status. Now, you email or upload or copy/paste your materials to a website. And you can't call. And you can't check the status. It's unsettling. It's as impersonal as impersonal can be.

Besides, it was discouraging to know that I was applying for jobs that were very much NOT what I want to be doing and trying to convince myself that this would be a way to move up in the company. And maybe it would. But maybe it wouldn't. I don't want to answer phones, make coffee and fill soda refrigerators or office supply cabinets for a living. I prefer to get back into restaurant work, volunteer at my old internship and network within the library/archives community.

I may be the most foolish unemployed adult with looming student loan payments walking the earth... guess we'll just have to see how it all turns out.

Rain, Cold, Sera Cahoone

2010-05-21T23:27:00.000-07:00

Walked into my fave coffee shop for my late afternoon dose and the barista was playing Sera Cahoone. I'd chosen The Jam for my bus ride up the hill (see title for reasons why I opted for the bus over my usual walk) but had removed the headphones to place my coffee order. "Oh. Sera Cahoone is perfect for a day like today." "Yeah, really comforting, isn't she?" "Yeah." Out the door, hot coffee in one hand, spinning the iPod list to Cahoone, "play all" as I walked the rest of the way home. In the door, turn on iTunes laptop, choose Cahoone catalog--two albums--and select the repeat function. Six hours later... still listening.

Melancholy, a little twang (some songs include harmonica and banjo!), slightly reedy alto voice mixed with some smokiness, bit o minor keys (I think), plaintive, achy.

Totally fitting for the weather, my mood.

Yawn...

2010-05-19T22:27:00.000-07:00

So, the first book that I pick up to read as a free, newly minted Master (this is never going to get old. I'm going to irritate friends and family to no end with this one...), was a book recommended to me by a woman that I met during my internship. She had recently graduated from the archives program at Western Washington University and is volunteering while she looks for a job. She is interested in history. She is interested in archives. She reads. She, as of a few weeks ago, was reading a book called The Historian, by Elizabeth Kostova. She suggested that if I like history, archives, reading and vampires that I would almost certainly love this page turner of a debut novel. Anticipating my approaching academic freedom, I put a hold on this book at the library. It arrives just as I am finishing my last week of school. (Ha. Last week. Last week was last week. Still can hardly believe it so I have to keep reminding myself.)

I start this 600 and something page book a couple of days ago. By the end of the first paragraph I am already irritated. You know that forced, or put on pseudo-European sounding formality of speech that writers use when they want to convey a sense of old world in a relatively contemporary character? An American raised mostly in a diplomatic/academic environment, based in some quaint Western European village and traveling to cities, large and small, throughout her formative years? Well, that's the tone of this book. And it doesn't change as the voice of the narrator changes. This worldly--but naturally shy, bright, attractive and resourceful--young woman is supposedly retelling stories that her father told her. His stories are supposedly told in his voice and then shift to her account of how, when and why he recounts the events of his life... his mysterious and foreboding life. I guess. But it all just sounds like that fake, arch, I'm writing like a scholar would speak narration/description/tone/voice. BIG YAWN. Plus, it constantly reminds me of that other supremely irritating novel that caused such a big flurry of conspiracy theories, spin offs, History Channel/Secrets of the insert religious sect/secret society here shows. O, and a movie and another book/movie. (I read it to see what the big hubbub was all about. I felt like I was constantly being patronized as the reader, like I was not cultured enough or smart enough to truly appreciate that author's breadth of world history/art/travel/experiential knowledge. O, brother.)

After 75 pages of "GET ON WITH IT, ALREADY!", knowing that there were more than 500 to go, I realized that I was going to have to do a little interwebs research to see if this was going to be worth the slogging. First review I read was the trusted New York Times. Janet Maslin pretty much summed up my feelings and, by way of her concise prose, gave me permission to just put the thing down and move onto the other book that I got from the library that I've wanted to read since it was published, last year--T. C. Boyle's The Women. I am going to open the cover on that as soon as I finish up this post. Others, however, adored this book and simply couldn't put it down. Even Maslin acknowledges that there are, occasionally, some jolts of excitement within the story. I'll never know what they are, however, because I don't want to spend the next week trudging through various creaky, Eastern European villages in search of this Dracula character for one or two "BOO!" rewards.

Now that I don't have homework, I can also go back to listening to the good ole' turntable in a nice, pay attention type way. This afternoon's listening pleasures:
The Human League--Dare (ahem, gate fold cover.)
Prince--Purple Rain

There were tears.

2010-05-13T21:42:00.000-07:00

I'm still in a little bit of shock. Maybe denial? I just turned in my last assignment, ever, as an MLIS grad student. I keep staring at the computer screen as if I expect something to happen--say, for instance, a hand to reach out with a roll of paper tied with red velvet ribbon and a computer recorded voice exclaiming only as a computer-generated voice can, "Congratulations. You have completed your degree requirements." Or maybe no hand, no diploma (because I assume the rolled up paper was a diploma) and just a voice saying "You still owe UWM 0.40 cents and until we have that, you cannot graduate." I do, apparently, owe 40 cents, and in order to pay that I have to also pay a $6.00 service fee if I use an electronic payment. I am not paying this. I don't even know how it's possible to owe 40 cents. Tomorrow I am calling the Bursar's office and either getting it removed or telling them that I'll send a check for the amount in order to avoid this so called convenience fee. (Hold it. Is there somewhere in here that I can blame Ticketmaster for this? Were there "convenience fees" before Ticketripoff got in the game? I wonder...)

But the denial. I can't believe that starting tomorrow--heck, starting right now--I won't have any assignments due, readings to complete, discussions to participate in... nothin'. Sunday morning, when I wake up, start the water for coffee and head downstairs to retrieve my Times I'll be able to read the entire paper if I want to. No need to impose a time limit on myself in order to ensure that I get started on the week's class readings. I CAN EVEN DO THE CROSSWORD!!!!

This will take some getting used to.

(Notice I said "as an MLIS grad student;" one never knows if I may return for some more o' that expensive book learnin' at a later date. A much later date.)

Ticketmaster is the d-E-V-I-L!!!!

2010-05-01T11:03:00.000-07:00

This is not news. Anyone who has ever had to purchase a ticket from the grossness that is Ticketmaster knows how frustrating it is to not know the real total of your purchase until you've hit the "confirm purchase" button. Knows how infuriating it is to pay a "convenience charge," and that by the time the transaction is completed you've paid 1/2 the cost of the original ticket price in Ticketmaster's web of profit that has nothing to do with anything other than greed. AND, the venues that you think are above using this corporation as the producer/vendor/dEVIL are not and you're at their mercy unless you decide to never ever see some bands play again. AND, AND, AND it's more pervasive than just huge arena shows. Some of these venues are the smaller kind. The kind that I am much more likely to frequent. Stinkerheads.

So this morning I caved and bought my The National/Okkervil River ticket for a September show at Marymoor Park, despite not really having the money for it. But, like Yeasayer, I know that if I don't go to this show I will forever be kicking myself and be haunted by thoughts of having Cheap Tricked me out of seeing this fantastic band again. (I don't care that they are getting more and more popular. I am happy for them.) And who needs that kind of regret?

Have I explained this Cheap Trick thing yet? I feel like maybe I have. But just as a refresher:

Main Entry: Cheap Trick

Pronunciation\ˈchēp\ \ˈtrik\

Function: verb

Etymology: Cheap Trick is an American rock band from Rockford, Illinois, formed in 1974. The band consists of members Robin Zander (lead vocals,rhythm guitar), Rick Nielsen (lead guitar, backing vocals), Tom Petersson (electric bass, backing vocals), and Bun E. Carlos (drums,percussion). On more than one occasion, Shawn (former boyfriend and current friend of Linnet) and Linnet (former girlfriend and current friend of Shawn) noticed that Cheap Trick would be playing at a local music venue and put off buying tickets on the assumption that they'd just get them day of show. They were wrong.

1: To miss out on an event or purchase of a desired object due to laziness, reluctance/waffling, or the assumption that said event will not sell out or said object will be of no interest to anyone else thus affording you all the time in the world to buy the object or a ticket to the event in question only to find out that the event/object is sold out.

Damn! I Cheap Tricked Yeasayer at Neumos because I waited until February to get my ticket for their April show.

Sure wish I hadn't Cheap Tricked that used Replacements album at Wall of Sound. I just didn't have the money and I thought I'd find it again. (I didn't really. I would never Cheap Trick a used Replacements album. They are so rare...)

Stream This

2010-04-23T11:01:00.000-07:00

Positively buzzing with longing--and I don't know what for--but the National just brings it out in me.

Listen to this. Listen every day.

Teen Bedroom/Adult Bedroom

2010-04-22T23:08:00.000-07:00

One of the round table discussions that I went to during the EMP Pop Conference, last weekend, was about girls and their bedrooms pre-Interwebs, or as it was officially called, In the Girls' Room: Pre-Internet Teen Girl Bedroom Culture. So, we're talking the early 90s, and while I'm sure some enterprising early adopters had the means and funds to have some sort of Internet connection, the point of the panel was to discuss life before we were all so technologically linked.

While the entire conversation was fascinating--Riot Grrrl, Sassy Magazine (and I am honored to say that I did get this magazine when it was first published back in 1988. It was revelatory.), Alanis Morrisette (ugh) and boys in the bedroom or not--the one comment I made in the margin of my conference guide was "Is my apartment an extension of my teenage bedroom because I am single?" Why did I ask myself this question? Because the moderator asked at what point does a teen girl abandon her teen bedroom and move into an adult bedroom? One spectator noted that it happens when she moves into her college dorm and no longer needs to manifest the search for her identity all over her bedroom because at this point she is starting to "find" herself and come into her own. I don't know if I agree with this statement. Admittedly, I never lived in a dorm but I saw a lot of them and what I observed was a lot of bland conformity. Ubiquitous Monet Waterlilies or Klimt's, The Kiss. (There's a funny Buffy episode where a jaded college campus vamp makes fun of this trend.) Not to mention the same-o, same-o mini-fridge/microwave combo. I get the practicality of those appliances, but it did add to an air of sameness. You're sharing a room with someone so there has to be a negotiation, to some degree, of visual representation. Perhaps the only time you really get to splatter the walls with your developing expressive self is when you're a teenager. Provided you have your own room and you are able to do whatever you like, within reason, to the walls and shelf space.

I didn't get my own room until I was... hmmmm... how old was I? Definitely in high school. (Sometimes I wish I had a scanner because I could scan some photos I took of my teen girl bedroom... I was very proud of my wall collage. Very proud.) There is no doubt in my mind that my room was a definitive expression of what I wanted the world to know about me. Though I no longer have a wall collage of my favorite singers and bands carefully composed and constructed from Spin, Rolling Stone (back when I thought it was sort of cool, though I preferred Spin), NME and random music mags I may have stumbled upon, I sometimes wish I did. And I most assuredly have composed my studio apartment into a space that says "Hey! You can learn a lot about me just by looking at all the books, Cd's and records, and wickety-whack knick-knacks lovingly curated all around in nooks and crannies."

Really. You can. It's like an adult version of a teenager's bedroom. It's very different than the bedroom--or any other room, for that matter--that I shared with T. G.; that was less Linnet and more T. More what I believed expressed "mature adult couple"--mature adult couple that would be acceptable to T. (yawn)

So, I go back to disagreeing with the woman who thought that the dorm room didn't have to have all that "me"--but not "me" because, like I said, I never lived in the dorms--stuff because this was the point at which the girl is becoming a woman and no longer needed to prove her individuality. She just is.

I think that when you share a space you have the potential to fall into a trap of suppressing yourself in your own home and though this won't happen to everyone, it's possible. Of course it's not always true, Ready Made has a feature in every issue that entices the reader to salivate all over the envy-inducing creative power of expression as realized by couples and single folks in their amazing homes.

Credit Card Getaway

2010-04-20T23:12:00.000-07:00

As I type this entry, Yeasayer is playing a show at Neumo's, here in Seattle. I would have gladly gotten a ticket and seen them play in my hometown, but waaaay back in early February, when I tried to purchase a ticket, the show was already sold out. What else could I do but try to see them in Portlandia? So I took myself out on an overnight date to Stumptown (not the coffee shop, though that's the reason it's called Stumptown, because it comes from Portland--though it is now taking over the world, literally.) Despite having dear friends who live in that lovely little city--and were super close to the venue--I told no one I was coming. Sometimes you need a little solo time, away from your own day to day world.

Knowing what I know now, I would have been musically devastated had I not made the effort to see Yeasayer play live in a small venue. (I know, I could have seen them every other time they passed through Seattle, but I didn't love their first album and I LOVE the latest album, Odd Blood. LOVE it.) They're the type of band that could explode any minute and the next time they breeze through town they may be at the Moore, or the Paramount. Not too big, but big enough to not be intimate. O, my.

Record Store Day!!!!!

2010-04-15T22:44:00.000-07:00

Saturday is Record Store Day, and anyone who lives in a town that supports independent record stores MUST participate by showing up at the record store and purchasing something; even if it is a used something. Though I'll be attending the EMP Pop Conference, I will definitely find time to drop into Sonic Boom--my favorite independent record store in Seattle--and buy... buy... I'm not sure, yet, what I want to buy. But you can bet that I'll spend my hard earned government student loan money on a great record. And yes, I do mean the vinyl kind. I promise to let y'all know what it is.

Within the last week I have had two different people tell me about manifesting what you want simply by writing it down or even sending the fully formed declaration out into the universe. While I am loathe to believe in astral plane, hippy-dippy mumbo-jumbo I concede that there is something to this. The first person told me of the Intention List that a mutual friend of ours had and how he (the friend sharing the information) needed to start one of those. The other friend explained the notion of thought forms-- like clouds that you send up into the astral (?) plane; these you just have to visualize and don't need to write down.

I am going to do both. You can't see the clouds, but here is the list:

1. I will get a job at the Microsoft Library/Archives in one month.
2. I will move into a two bedroom apartment at the Panorama where my friend's mom lives in two months. (The two bedrooms cost what most one bedrooms in the area cost. Aiming high, here.)
3. I will have a great big party after I move into my new pad.
4. I will wear Jill Sander suits and look a-maze-ing.
5. I will help my mother, financially, live a care-free life.

Not bad, huh? This is what will happen.

G'night!

Happy Pending Graduation to Me

2010-04-10T11:41:00.000-07:00

Saturn Rising

2010-04-07T18:23:00.000-07:00

Today is my baby sister's 27th birthday. (27? Hmmm... is that right? Yeah. 27. I'm goin' with it.) It's a bit sobering to realize that the youngest child in the family is older than some of my friends, and also getting too old to called "the baby." I don't actually call her "the baby," nor do I think does anyone else in the family; I do call her "my baby sister." I suppose that's essentially the same thing and perhaps has been outgrown.

27 was a pretty big year for me. I began my new life at 27 and have never regretted one moment. O. K., maybe there have been some regrets, like not going to see Cheap Trick in 2000 (or was that 2001?), or getting rid of a couple of vintage dresses I thought I was over... but for the most part, it's been a good life. I was told that this was a great year, 27, ideal for big changes and something about Saturn rising. Whatever that means. All that has happened since then would not have been possible without some gigantic risks that may have been shocking to the unsuspecting, but made perfect sense to me. Looking at me now, I doubt anyone who thought they'd just seen pigs fly would disagree. At least, I would hope so. What else would they have wanted for me? Soccer mom in the 'burbs? Wearing pleated khakis and twin sets? (No offense to all you soccer moms and dads living in the 'burbs, but you understand that's just not my style.)

The baby sis is going through a lot of life changes, too, and though they may be difficult and seemingly out of character to many, I know it's going to be good. Feels like she's grown up a lot in the past six or so months. So much so that using the baby monikor just doesn't have the same weight it used to. Youngest sister is probably much more appropriate. Or, just sister. OR, my personal favorite, Paigerella.

Happy birthday, love!

I Authored an Electronic Finding Aid!

2010-03-31T23:26:00.000-07:00

Look at me!!! My finding aid for the Public Information Officer Records of the Seattle Fire Department is an EAD (Encoded Archival Description) on the Northwest Digital Archives website! See for yourself, kids. Naturally, as I look at it I see all kinds of things that probably could have been done better (and it was the first big collection that I processed) but the City Archivist has to OK all EADs and he wouldn't have given the go ahead if it weren't SMA (Seattle Municipal Archives) worthy.

Last few days have been a severe Ryan Adams kick. Over and over and over again with the tunes. He's prolific, so it took me a couple of days to get through everything that I have uploaded to iTunes. The whole of today, since getting home from my internship and after my run, I've been listening to these gems in various shuffled order:

Anybody Wanna Take Me Home
Crossed Out Name
Two
Harder Now That It's Over
How Do You Keep Love Alive
Blue Hotel
Dear John (Live in Studio)
My Winding Wheel
Hard Way to Fall
When Will You Come Back Home?
Sweet Illusions
Please Do Not Let Me Go
Oh My God, Whatever, Etc.
If I am a Stranger (Live in Studio)
Magnolia Mountain
The Hardest Part
Monday Night
My Heart is Broken
Friends
Oh My Sweet Carolina
These Girls
Starlite Diner
Down in a Hole
Born into a Light
If I am a Stranger
La Cienga Just Smiled
When the Stars go Blue
Let it Ride
Cold Roses
Come Pick Me Up
Dear John
Now that You're Gone

I sense a theme... (sweet melancholy, slightly to very lonely, longing, etc., in case you're unfamiliar with the R. A. catalogue.) Can't wait for the metal album. Seriously.

Furniture and The National?

2010-03-30T22:05:00.000-07:00

The National have a new album coming out in May, and there was a free download of one song a couple of weeks ago. This is a band that for whatever magical reason when I hear them my chest tightens and I feel a sort of panicky need or urgency to bury myself in the the music, to cover myself, to roll into the fetal position and stay there until I've reached saturation. I'm not explaining it well, and it is such a strange feeling. I am so disappointed that their spring tour will take them not to Seattle, but to the Sasquatch Music Festival out at the Gorge. I don't want to go to the Gorge (and as of this morning, I guess the whole weekend is sold out because the line up is SO DAMN GOOD!) because it's 1) a looooong drive and I don't have a car, 2) a festival type atmosphere with lots of sweaty, drunken, annoying bodies bumping into me and standing taller than i am so I can't see anything anyway, 3) difficult to arrange a sleeping situation because you have to get a permit to camp or pay for a hotel somewhere in the vicinity and 4) I just don't like those kind of big crowd shows. I don't even go to Bumbershoot anymore because it's so claustrophobic crowded feeling. Still, I am eagerly awaiting the new release and recently made a discovery regarding a possible influence even though it may not be connected, at all, to this band.

A Connection? I've been watching Some Kind of Wonderful--a favorite since it's release waaaaay back in 1987--late at night as I fall asleep. (It takes me weeks to get through a movie because I generally only am awake for about 10 minutes before it is snooze city, zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz... I love the "sleep" function on my t.v. remote...sigh...) I used to have the soundtrack, which I loved and listened to over and over again when I was in Jr. High School. One song, in particular, has stuck out as sounding very National-like, though it would be more appropriate to say that The National sounds very Furniture-like as can be heard in their song "Brilliant Mind." Who knows if there really is a connection, but sonically speaking it sure seems like one exists.

2010-03-29T23:57:00.000-07:00

I went. It was chill. I sat upstairs where the dj spun his magic and read. I liked.

Solo

2010-03-28T20:14:00.000-07:00

There are many activities that I truly enjoy indulging in solo.

1. Live Music
2. Movies
3. Shopping
4. Library Visits
5. Bookstore Browsing
6. Coffee Shop Sitting
7. Eating Breakfast/Lunch/Dinner Out
8. Record Shopping
9. Going to a Museum/Gallery

There are some activites that I don't mind participating in solo, even though a buddy would be a great addition. (Some of these activities may appear on more than one list..)

1. Eating Breakfast/Lunch/Dinner Out
2. Movies
3. An Evening Cocktail at a Cozy Watering Hole
4. Going to a Party

And some activities are rarely done without at least one friend accompanying me.

1. Going Dancing (This one absolutely requires a buddy.)
2. Going to a Party-- Especially When I Don't Know Anyone
3. Going to Some Watering Holes

I am contemplating going to a gallery/bar tonight that has started hosting djs on Sunday evenings who just spin records. No dancing, no raucous crowds. A barista pal suggested I go sometime (he is one of the djs next month) because it's just a big, chill listening party and very fun. I was thinking about taking my Records Management reading and heading over there after I eat some dinner... but I feel a little like this is the kind of activity that would be better with a friend. Only I don't have a friend that I can ask to go with me. I have friends, for heaven's sake! It's just that they're mostly attached and it's a school night and they're not likely to want to wend their way over to the Hill just to sit at a gallery/bar to listen to records with me. Should I stay or should I go? I will probably go, or at least do a walk-by. A part of me feels like this is precisely the kind of activity that I should be indulging in if only, potentially, to make the acquaintance of some other folks who like to stay out past 10pm. Maybe I'd even see people I kind of know already... maybe my barista pal.

A few weekends ago, I met some girlfriends for a little Emerald City Soul Club festivities (after the opera and in high heels and a late 50's vintage cocktail dress no less!!) and ran into (danced into?) a friend of mine on the dance floor. He came alone!! To a dance club!! I was very impressed, maybe a little in awe, too, and told him so. He said that he always winds up seeing people he knows so he doesn't feel like he's there alone. Wow. I wouldn't have that confidence. I don't. No way.

The shield of reading material is always helpful in solo situations, and that's a big reason why the activities that I enjoy on my own never feel awkward. (Yes. I am that girl at the bar, trying to read in poor lighting. But I don't mind...) It's the new territory that makes me nervous. Last night I really wanted to attend another soul night, but couldn't find anyone who wanted to go with me. It just wouldn't do to bring my New Yorker with me on the dance floor. And at a club, even one where the majority of folks are really there to dance there asses off and just have good ole' fashioned fun, having a buddy is, to me, smart.

So. Will I go to the gallery and see what's what? Yes. I've decided to brave the unknown. Will I stick around? Hard to say. All depends on the vibe. If it feels like the sort of place that I can easily pull up a chair or cushion or bar stool, open my book, order my beer/tea/soda/whatever and relax, then I'll stay. If it's too crazy and I feel completely out of place, I'm leaving--after I look at the art.

On the turn table: The Honey Drippers: Volume One ($1.00, rummage sale in the market.)

2010-03-24T23:23:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I have to return a book, Catching Fire, to the library that I'd forgotten I'd even put myself on the waitlist for and there is still a long line so it won't be renewable and it's just mean to keep a book you know someone else is waiting for. (That was even a question/answer in the Sunday Times Magazine ethicist column.) I only started reading it once my break had begun, which conicided with the last few days before its due date and if it were a better book I'd have already finished it. Not that it is a bad book--it's the sequal to The Hunger Games, a book I read for my YA Lit class last fall--it's just not nearly as compelling. 90 pages to go and it has only now begun to get interesting. The first 300 pages were a frustrating, repetative and plodding journey, however. I found myself internally yelling, "Come on, already! I get it; let's get this show on the road." (Perhaps my readers feel the same when reading my prose... but I'm not being paid by a publishing company or charging others to read my possibly plodding text.) I don't care who your target audience is, repeating information that has already been well-established can be an exasperating experience for the reader. I GET IT!!!! Despite thoroughly enjoying the first book of this trilogy (the final book is supposed to come out in August), I would never claim that Suzanne Collins is a great or even an original writer. The Hunger Games had a good sense of pacing, character development and was an exciting dystopic novel for YAs easily enjoyed by older readers and mature younger kids. (I haven't read the sci-fi books that have a similar plot, but I know that her book has been compared to several...) But this second book... a little too much remember when and not enough what's going on NOW! Still, like I said, it's now getting more interesting... 3/4 of the way through the book. Le sigh. Guess I'll be finishing that tonight when I'm done blah blah blahgging about how it's been a bit of a let down.

At least I can enjoy listening to Gunfighter Ballads and Trail Songs! Marty Robbins just washes over a body in warm, dulcet tones, you know? I've got to remember this when I'm feeling irritable, anxious, stressed, overwhelmed... spin a little "Big Iron" or "In the Valley" and all will be viewed in a less tense light.

Last Spring Break (Unless I failed Comps)

2010-03-21T22:04:00.000-07:00

Still waiting on that whole pass/fail comps thing. Yup. Stiiiiiiiiiiiillllllllllllllllllllllll waiting...

Regardless, in honor of this, probably my last, spring break I took the Sunday bus to the Goodwill with high hopes for some 99 cent LP buying fun. 99 cents is an intensely satisfying price to pay for crazy, sentimental, omygoshican'tbelieveifoundthis, sowhatifthere'salittlescratchit'sonly99cents, ireallyonlywantitforthisonesong, mayaswellgiveitatry finds. Not that I had the extra funds for this little trip, but I took the 35 minute bus ride and threw caution to the wind, even ixnayed some of my choices in an effort to be financially responsible. $18 (not including tax) later, and 18 LPs--including three multiple record sets: Bach's Mass in B Minor and a set of Brandenburg Concertos, as well as Beethoven's Complete String Quartets, Vol. II. (At Lifelong, nee, Chicken Soup, they charge for each album, part of a set or no. sheesh.) Favorite find? Peter Schilling's U.S. release, Error in the System. One of those, omygoshican'tbelieveifoundthis coupled with ireallyonlywantitforthisonesong finds. Yes, the Hollister Elementary 4th, 5th and 6th grades combined ski strip to Pomerelle return bus journey remains a vivid, wonderful memory: all 30, or so, of us singing along to "Major Tom (Coming Home)" at the tops of our lungs. Every single kid on that bus. It was glorious. 14 additional fantastic finds, too, but the Schilling album was just random and something I thought I'd never run into for such a deal. I could see thumbing through a record store's inventory and paying at least $6 for it, but certainly not VG+ condition and 99 cents!!!! Now, if I could only be so lucky with some Replacements albums...

Ok, and I admit I bought a couple of records yesterday at the Value Village ($1.99/ea., unless otherwise marked) but I couldn't pass these up. Came home with Rick Springfield's first album, Working Class Dog, because it has "Jessie's Girl" on it, and Bryan Adam's Reckless. Just about every song on that one was a hit single. Holy cow, he was popular. Holy cow, I love pop songs. I like to think that I have a discerning palette and can tell the difference between a great, well-crafted pop song and schlock. Don't we all? But come on!!! Jessie's Girl?!!!! Omigosh it is good. I mentioned my find to an acquaintance and not only did he concur, but he also noted its ideal placement in that lofty tradition of rock/pop songs whose subject matter is longing for your best friend's girl.

This used record buying thing is a bit of a disease. Or an addiction. Both, I guess. I can talk myself out of looking for weeks at a time and then I'll be innocently passing the Village (note that this is said with an arch, pseudo French accent and not to be confused with any neighborhood in that eastern city where the bohemians used to live.) and think, I'll just take a look. Can't hurt. Mostly, it's the same albums I've gone through 50 times. But then there is something new. Something I haven't seen before. Something desirable and in non-scratched condition. Once I am reminded of the thrill of buying a used record, then I want to go around to all the G'wills and Villages and any other second hand store I can think of. Record stores, too, but they tend to be a bit pricier and though I do not begrudge them their price points, it's more fun to pay less for the whoohooican'twaittogethomeandputthison discoveries.

***The links are to You Tube videos of the songs mentioned, but I'm not 100% sure they'll stay active. If not, just search 'em out in that crazy You Tube universe yourself.

2010-01-04T21:41:00.000-08:00

This is just a big tease, writing more than ONCE in a month. Don't get used to it...

I took some duplicate records to Sonic Boom before going to yoga, this evening (Sonic Boom has moved down the hill to a much more convenient location for me. Thank you, Sonic Boom!!) thinking I would sell them for some in store credit. Ha. They were even good titles and not scratched, but the exchange was not worth it and even though they weren't rejecting them I still had that moment of vulnerable embarrassment that my musical tastes were awful and the paltry sum offered was in direct proportion to their dislike for my likes. This is not true. I know this. But it's a familiar feeling when selling clothes or music to resale shops. (I have a friend who has a record player and two albums. I'll donate these duplicates to him. He needs them more than SB, obviously.)

KEXP had their 90.3 best albums of the decade--as voted on by their loyal listeners--today. I caught most of it and had a swell time during the last two hours as I just lay down with the lights off (this matters in Seattle what with darkness closing in around 4:30 during the early part of winter) and had moment after moment of "O! I love that record. I haven't listened to that in ages." Or, "Yup. Definitely should at least be in the top 20."

The usual suspects showed up: Arcade Fire (#1 with Funeral), Radiohead (4 times and I couldn't agree more), Wilco, The Shins, Death Cab, Built to Spill, Beirut, Fleet Foxes, Band of Horses, Beck, White Stripes, Spoon, Interpol, Modest Mouse... no real surprises. There was definitely some local pride going on, too. Many, many NW bands were acknowledged for their excellent contribution to the decade's music riches. It was a very satsifying decade in music, that is for sure.

I have no truck with any of the bands that made it onto the whole 90.3 list... ok, that's not entirely true. There is one band on the countdown that I do not care for, at all, and another that I can take in very small doses. And I may not have agreed that some bands should have every album that they produced on the list, thereby knocking off other very deserving albums, but that's alright. I don't know if I could come up with a list that actually qualifies as "the best" albums of the first decade in the 21st Century, either. They'd just be albums that I think are the best.

So Far, So Good...

2010-01-03T23:51:00.000-08:00

Three days into 2010 and all is well. Mostly. Hm. Perhaps I've spoken too soon? Pshaw. Let us be realistic, other than some emotional instability, a concern regarding rent $$ and a missing favored bracelet, I stand by the previous statement. All is well. And as far as the emotional instability, it's not actually unstable; on the contrary, it has been very stable. Too stable. I'm pretty much ready for it to evolve into a new emotion and/or a less melancholy one. (Though I have made it a rule not to speak of anything too personal on this blog, I think it's safe to allude to this particular episode--as if any two people who might read this blog don't already know... this blabber about emotional stability/instability is in regard to my semi-recent evolution from long-term relationshipdom into singledom.)

2010. The year of Single Linnet. I can dig that. Been a long, long while so it's certainly a novelty and it could be fun. Now, anyway. Leading up to this point, "fun" would be an inaccurate description of the last few months of 2009. Though fun moments were experienced, "fun" was decidedly not the overall tenor of this past fall. Big sigh. Hey! But let's stop this fussin' and cryin', 'cause it's a new year and I've already detangled and separated out my jewelry! Next thing you know, I'll be tidying up that scary closet and maybe even chucking out those things that I really and truly am not going to wear again. Whoa, Nelly! I'm gettin' crazy.

In case you're wondering, today's turntable listening consisted of:

Carmina Burana

Suites for Cello Unaccompanied, Nos. 3 & 4 (Played by Pablo Casals)

Saint Saens & Tchaikovsky cello and orchestra pieces, Paul Tortelier was the cellist. (Side 1 had three Saint Saens pieces and Side 2 had to Tchaikovsky pieces.)

Pippin (Original Broadway Cast)

Godspell (Original Broadway Cast)

2009-12-31T12:48:00.000-08:00

I just spent a week in southern Idaho for the Christmas holidays where I got to be supremely lazy--reading, watching movies, hanging out with my mom, youngest sister and her son. Good times. It was the perfect warmup for the next four weeks of supreme laziness that I get to have until my final semester (providing I pass my comps) begins, Jan. 25. Naturally, there are all kinds of home projects that I could be working on during this period of ease and I am unmotivated to begin any of them. As it it New Year's Eve (yawn), I feel that I should get to spend the day allowing brain rot to set in and have already watched the last three episodes of Battlestar Galactica season 4 (still have 4.5 to see), checked email, FB, exchanged my ticket for Il Trovatore to another night so that I can see Hey Marseilles at the Crocodile on Jan. 30, put on a $.50 album find--Adam Ant, Strip--and made a few "Happy New Year!" phonecalls. All in all, I'd say it's been a very productive day thus far.

Sometimes I have been known to write down some memorable moments of the exiting year. It was kind of a rough one, so I'll skip that but will be happy to make note of several fantastic books that I had the pleasure of reading for my teen lit class. Required reading that always felt like I was sluffing on my homework even though it was my homework; ain't life grand?

In no particular order here are some recommended reading for the new year if anyone is reading this blog:

1. The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing, Traitor to the Nation: Vol. I, The Pox Party, M.T. Anderson

2. Feed, also by Anderson

3. The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, Sherman Alexie

4. Tangerine, Edward Bloor

5. American Born Chinese, Gene Luen Yang

6. Sharp Teeth, Toby Barlow

Happy New Year!

2009-12-01T17:34:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I like to take study breaks while I eat. Sometimes I like to watch a 30 minute episode of something while I take a study break and eat. Lately it's been Sex in the City. This particular episode, from the first season, Carrie is whining about the sex drought she and Mr. Big are in (o, the horror, I know) while she and her friend, Samantha take a yoga class. They are having this conversation using regular volume voices, DURING CLASS. I realize that this program is full of fantasy and matching ultra expensive handbag and shoe combos, and I can forgive all that. But the talking during the class (and every other "excercise" class they take throughout the seasons) without anyone noticing or seemingly caring stretches the limit of my suspension of disbelief threshold.

Synchronicity

2009-11-06T17:00:00.000-08:00

It's thunder/and it's lightening/and it's all things/too frightening/I could barely see outside

Just as this We Were Promised Jetpacks song began to play, and those lyrics were sung, outside was thunder, lightening--all things too frightening. I can barely see outside.

Ok. The frightening stuff is my own school angst, but that's nobody's fault but my own. (Someone should write a song with that line, "nobody's fault but my own". O. Wait. Someone did.)

Talk about Pop Music

2009-04-18T20:54:00.000-07:00

The EMP Pop Conference was this weekend--technically, it continues through tomorrow--and I was able to spend the WHOLE day attending various panel discussions, today; wish I could have done so on Friday, too. But I did get to hear the key note speaker, Nona Hendryx, on Thursday night. Tomorrow, well, tomorrow I just can't make it.

Last year was the first year I had the pleasure to attend--also for only one day. As long as I am living in Seattle, and the Pop Conference happens and it's free (yes, it is FREE!!!), I'll be getting my music egg-head fix. Admittedly, I don't understand a lot of what is being referred to, or the inside jokes among the music scholars, critics and various members of academia who attend. But I don't care. I love it. I jot down names of writers that I will look into, musicians, songs, albums... My head buzzes with new ideas and excitement about music. I got to speak to Charles Cross for a brief moment to gush about how helpful his book, Cobain Unseen has been as I write a final paper for my Archives Admin. class on Cobain's published journals, If You Read This You Will Judge. I'd had some questions about dates and truth, etc. while reading the journals (which are really about an nth of what he actually wrote) and Cross' book was incredibly helpful in clearing up a lot of those questions. So, I thanked him. He was very nice and confirmed some of the other suspicions that I had surrounding the publishing of this bit of his journals. I plan on reading his biography on Cobain this summer to round out my Cobain focus. Which, when I think about it, is kind of funny for me to have. I mean, I like Nirvana. I have liked them more as the years have progressed and I've listened more closely; but they are not my end all be all favorite. And Cobain's sad, frustrating and destructive life (what I know of it, which is as much as anyone who didn't know him does--that is to say, what the media has given us and what Kurt, himself, wanted us to believe about him) is painful to contemplate. Not because I feel so personally hurt by his decision to end his life, not because I feel sorry for him, but because wasted lives are really, really, really sad. Sorry. Can't come up with anything well-crafted for that. It's just sad. Ian Curtis. Sad. Elliot Smith. Sad. And they were all sad, in their own ways, and self-destructive, in their own ways, and supremely talented. So I, like many, shake my head and think, "what a waste" while at the same time thinking, "how could they be so dumb?" I know it is not that simple. But I don't know them. Didn't know them. Won't ever. Not really.

But I digress, as I am wont to do... By the end of today, I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open, which had something to do with the dim lighting of the space where the last panel was presenting mixed with my usual 6 hours of sleep (that many?) the night before and a healthy dose of an interesting, yet lacking in vocal variety/energy speaker. It's a good thing the Seattle grey, cool and damp that I know and love was waiting for me outside to wake me up a bit.

Today was also national record store day. Did you visit your local shop? I hopped on over to the nearest Easy Street (not my local store, but it would be if I lived on Queen Anne) purchased Nevermind because my version is scratched and rendering it unlistenable--it wouldn't do to write this paper without my Nirvana catalogue in tip top form--as well as a Smith's single on 45. Re-issued, I believe, by Rhino. ("The Headmaster's Ritual" and "Oscilliate Wildly").

2009-03-25T23:28:00.000-07:00

While in New York I participated in the following activities:

1. Visited with many friends but did not have nearly enough time with them: Niamh and her brother John; Matt and Diana (she was also visiting); Michael, Calvin and Vivian; Jenara, Mitch and Alafair; Ali.

2. Enjoyed the Neue Galerie, Japan Society, Metropolitan Museum of Art, three small galleries in Chelsea featuring Ellsworth Kelly pieces (large paintings in two and small drawings in one), the Chelsea Art Museum, a couple of other random galleries in Chelsea showing artists that I don't know but would like to except I didn't make any notes and I can't remember any names.

3. Ate. A lot.

4. Walked. A lot.

5. Rode the subway.

6. Saw Moises Kaufmann's new play, 33 Variations. The best elements were the Eugene O'Neil Theatre (gorgeous and the perfect size) the set, lighting, pianist, Jane Fonda and the company (Ali). The script was eh.

7. Did I mention that I ate? A lot.

8. Drank many cups of marginal coffee in the form of lattes, americanos and regualr ole' joe.

9. Drank a few really good cups of coffee.

10. Avoided the St. Patrick's Day Parade but not the drunk crowds which bore a striking resemblance to frat boys and sorority girls. And some people way too old to be that drunk and that green at 11am on a Tuesday.

11. Wrote a short literature review for class that required a minimum of 15 cited articles as well as working on another essay for a different class.

12. Shopped. A little.

13. Spent money. A lot.

14. Loved being there. A lot.

2009-03-08T22:58:00.000-07:00

Huge, fat, white flakes are drifting--make that dumping, now.. no, wait, driftinnnnnnnng...--anyway, it's snowing. Pretty. But I'm over it now that we're into March.

Two things:

1. Adam, you're future jokes are great! How did you do that? Teach me. Please.

2. I saw the most amazing production of Schoenberg's Ewartung on a double bill with Bartok's Bluebeard's Castle at the Seattle Opera, last night. The soprano who sang The Woman was not only a beautiful, gorgeous, pitch perfect, expressive singer, but she could act, too! Really. A-maze-ing production. Amazing. This was originally directed by Robert LePage, in 1993, and I can't believe how lucky I was to get to see it. Expressionistic, Freudian, Magritte-like images. Dancers crawling out of walls, sideways. Like watching a stark, frightening and beautiful dream. Bluebeard's was also wonderful, (minor point: despite the thunderous, yummy voice, Bluebeard was a bit stiff, physically. Luckily there was so much to take in visually and musically that I could easily let that go.) The best, most magical staging took place near the end as his three wives rise from a pool of water, as if they were on some kind of hydraulics that lifted them straight up, dripping and red with the trains of their dresses trailing behind them like viscous pools of blood. (Only the trick is that it's wasn't deep, and they had to swim horizontally until they reached the spot where they could rise. Which they did with such seamless grace and foreboding.) I wish everyone could have seen it.

Future Jokes

2009-03-06T00:04:00.000-08:00

Hey! It's just after midnight and I should be in bed, but I'm all amped up because I think that I found a topic for the literature review that I have to write for my Indexing and Abstracting class. Indexing music terms--genres, moods, titles, lyrics... sounds good, huh? O, yeah, baby.

On another note, I was just laughing to myself about some jokes I heard last Saturday. I'd gone to the French Kicks show, solo, as is my wont. Ran into a friend who was with some of his friends. Afterwards (gosh this is taking a while to get to the point...) friend that I knew and one of his friends--the one who was visiting from Vancouver, BC,--went to Linda's for a drink where these two funny gentlemen proceeded to introduce me to the world of future jokes. Yes, you read that correctly. Future Jokes. Basically taking the format of any past or present joke--guy walks into a bar, etc.--and peppering it with made up sci-fi sounding words. I sense that I am not able to convey the hilarity of the situation. That's alright, you'll just have to take my word for it. Once they started telling these jokes, I became obsessed--in between cracking up at this new genre of humor--with contributing my own future joke. But of course, I came up with nada. I have a hard enough time telling present jokes. Worse, I haven't stopped thinking about how to compose a really hi-lar-ee-us future joke of my own to slay 'em with next time we should meet. sigh.

3 in a row

2009-03-04T23:06:00.000-08:00

I'm stuck on an Iron and Wine, M. Ward, Andrew Bird, Rocky Votolato, Pela and The National heavy rotation. This, despite the excitement of my tiny vinyl collection, has been going on for a few months now. I try to break it up, but I keep going back to the same dozen, or so, albums and eps. Even as I press play on my ipod, or itunes, or cd player, I think "I must be tired of listening to these guys"; and I kind of am in that I want to want to feel a desire to listen to something else. But I don't, so I don't. Must be the weather...

2009-03-03T22:48:00.000-08:00

I bought a record player at the end of January. I'd been wanting one for quite some time and took advantage of the money coming in from my temporarily permanent temp job to purchase this fine, vintage, all-in-one Rheem Califone music listening device. I'd forgotten what it was like to listen to a record. It takes a bit more patience--you have to flip it over, after all--a bit more attention. My speaker is pretty durn good, but it's not the best, and still... IT'S TRUE WHAT ALL THOSE CRAZY AUDIOPHILES SAY ABOUT VINYL!!!! I love it. (The Walkmen's You & Me album was my first vinyl purchase. I bought it at the show. Very good show, by the way. One of their best that I've had the pleasure of seeing.) Mostly I've been buying used records and have only had a couple of "Darn. That song is scratched," moments. I figure if I'm paying a few bucks--like $1-3--for an album and there's one scratch, it's o.k. One of my favorite finds was nos. 2 and 3 of Bach's unaccompanied cello suites. Released in the late 60's. (or early 70's? I'm too lazy to get up and look.) If you thought that those cello pieces warmly resonated in your bones on a cd, give yourself a treat and listen via the old analog method. Whoa. I get it. I do. It sounds like someone is playing the cello inside my apartment, inside of me. Another great find? (thank you , Shawn, for this treasured discovery) One Voice. Barry Manilow. The very first album I ever got that was mine and mine alone. (Christmas, 1979.) Ask my mom how much I loved that record. When I told her of this gem, she inquired if I'd gotten out the vacuum cleaner. har, har. She is referring to my childhood microphone. My vinyl purchases tend towards classical, albums I remember that my parents had, bands that I really, really love--I'm on a mission to find all of the U2 catalog from Joshua Tree on down--and quirky 78s. I'm in no hurry. So, if you are out and about and you see something that you think I might like, and it isn't very expensive or scratched, feel free to purchase it for me. You can come over and we can lay on some pillows while we listen to the textured sounds of the vinyl experience.

a list

2009-03-01T22:36:00.000-08:00

it feels kind of strange to be composing an entry. my sister-in-law asked me when i was going to post something again and i replied, wistfully, probably not until summer. but then, i'm sitting on the couch version of my futon, half reading an article for my archives administration class and i'm absolutely not paying attention--even though it's interesting--and it pops into my head that i miss my blog. really. i do. i miss a lot of things, right now. shawn. video games. reading that doesn't involve answering questions based on the aforementioned reading. listening to music while doing nothing else. practicing the guitar. waking up after the sun comes up. going to bed late because want to, not because i'm doing school work. putzing around the 525 square feet i call home. a quiet neighbor below me--one not aspiring to be the next zach condon. (i like the musical stylings of condon. of condon.) going for a run on a regular/semi-regular basis. doing one crossword puzzle after another after another after another. watching an entire season of a television series in one sitting. eyes sans dark circles. eating a pint of ice cream with no repercussions.

A girl walks into a bar...

2008-09-10T21:23:00.001-07:00

I found Sarah Combs.

My street smells like hot dogs...

2008-09-06T11:40:00.000-07:00

This is weird. And true. The cool breeze blowing in through the windows in my little home is bringing with it the smell of hot dogs. Not sausages, not kielbasa, hot dogs. Like convenience store hot dogs. It's been like this for at least the last hour.

The second round of the U. S. Open semi-finals are on: Nadal v. Murray. Because of pending storms on the East Coast, the planes have been rerouted and, like in the old days of the U.S. Open, they fly overhead every minute or so. Kind of funny, because I'd forgotten that used to happen. (My mother has loved watching tennis for as long as I can remember and therefore I saw many grand slams played in my yute.)

Random thoughts day, I guess. No music postings, I'm afraid. I've got some school work to focus on, and some tennis to watch. I like to think of it as doing something with my mom, even though it's not physically together. Keeping up with her interests, and all.

By the way, just say "no" to instant replay in baseball.

No Music Here...

2008-08-29T23:12:00.000-07:00

That's not true. There is plenty of music, just not being listened to in a way that lends itself to an iTunes music post. Too busy for that, right now. Hey. This is my blog and if I want to have an entry that isn't about a specific album then that is my right. Right? Right.

So I've been in Long Beach, CA, visiting Shawn for the past two weeks. It's been sunny. It's been warm. It's been fun. Here is a list of some of the entertaining adventures we've had:

We saw Radiohead in Chula Vista. Wow. Wow. Wow. I don't know of any other band that is worth seeing in such a venue. (HUGE. Annoying. Potentially a nightmare to leave, traffic-wise, though we lucked out, somehow, and were just fine. Unlike when we saw them at a similar venue in Washington 4 or so years ago. We waited in the parking lot for close to two hours before we were able to get in line to slowly leave. Miserable.) Gorgeous all around show. And we didn't have to resort to buying the $5 water or $7 pizza slices, either.

We have gone to the beach. Shawn surfed in San Diego, where we spent a couple of days since we were seeing the Radiohead show out there, anyway. I watched and tried to figure out which bobbing head was his.

We saw a fabulous documentary, Man on Wire. Go see it if you get the chance. Quite enthralling even if you are familiar with the story and know the outcome. It's like watching a thriller unfold.

We went to LACMA. We went to the Getty. Art is cool.

We have eaten food. Food is good.

I have read several books. Reading rocks.

We have drunk coffee. Coffee is manna.

I bought The Gaslight Anthem's new CD. This band is fantastic and all should hear them.

We bought tickets to Mexico, in October, for our friends' wedding. Get some, 2008!

We have four more days of who knows what before I go back to Seattle, where it has apparently been raining since I left.

Black Celebration

2008-07-28T17:45:00.001-07:00

Black Celebration-Depeche Mode

Released: March 17, 1986

Mute (UK)/Sire Records (US)

How much do I love this album? A lot. Nostalgia reigns supreme when I listen to Black Celebration. What happens when I hear it? I remember being blown away with how profound I thought this band was. How much deeper and relevant than the bubblegum pop of the top 40 charts it was. Beginning to notice that the British pop charts were better than the US and looking to the Brits to guide me in my music development. (Golly, they're so lucky. They have bands like Depeche Mode and The Smiths and we've got Tiffany and Debbie Gibson.) How this album resonated in my young teenage soul. These weren't songs that I heard on the radio, by golly. They were too good for that. Sure, others knew "People are People", but did anyone know "New Dress"? No! Just my friends and me at TSFY!!!! (One of those friends made a tape of the album for me, which was how I was able to listen to it in the first place. THANK YOU, WAYNE!!!!!) Sitting in Miyo Sakashita's bedroom, listening to the very dark (and sexy) lyrics and thinking we were so deep, too. Exploring the justifications for a God who could allow such horrible things to happen in our world. Love. Will anyone ever love me? Why doesn't Justin see how much I love him and love me back? You know. Stuff like that. Oh yes, profound, my friends. Absolutely.

And I still think this is a great album. For Depeche Mode, fondly dubbed Depressed Mods-- either by me or someone else and I just thought it was me-- this one might just be my favorite. Oh sure, Catching Up is great fun because it comprises the hits from the first 5 years, but Black Celebration wasn't a hit. Not then. It wasn't the same as the others and it is black, my friends. Bleak, black, dark... a downer you can dance to. Wonderful stuff. And, despite one of my favorite songs feeling stuck on at the end and therefore seeming very out of place, it still delivers a very cohesive start to finish journey. ("But Not Tonight" was, indeed, stuck on at the end for the US release. It's not on the UK album.) The choice to end one song and begin the next, almost seamlessly, carrying you from one to the next without interruption creates a very cool effect and, according to something I read, was kind of a new trick back in the mid-80's. Very melodic and Martin Gore and David Gahan both have solid vocals, never overtaken by the instruments. They're clear and strong. And you can sing along real nice. It's fun that somewhere in the back of my brain I have retained the lyrics. I bought this CD, I don't know, 8 years ago? And I still knew all the words. Maybe they're not as profound, but they're still interesting and relevant. Not much has changed in the world. Ugly destruction and greed continues to drive governments, we're still fed lines of crap about how it's all getting better. And by golly we love to know what our celebrities are up to! (Or, another interpretation would be that the world's going to pot and Laura Bush just bought an SUV.)

Jet airliner shot from sky

Famine horror, millions die

Earthquake terror figures rise

Princess Di is wearing a new dress

You can't change the world

But you can change the facts

And when you change the facts

You change points of view

If you change points of view

You may change the a vote

And when you change a vote

You may change the world

In black townships fires blaze

Prospects better premier says

Within sight are golden days

Princess Di is wearing a new dress

I mean, really, has anything changed that much?

(the best of) New Order (US Version)

2008-07-26T21:37:00.000-07:00

(the best of) New Order-New Order

Released: March, 1995 (US Version)

Qwest

I've been searching on the internet for information related to this album, and it's been fascinating. Originally released in 1994, in the UK, the track listing is a bit different; but on iTunes, it's different than either the UK or the US releases. Less tracks and some that aren't on either of the other CDs. Weird. Anyway, I have learned a heck of a lot more about New Order than I knew before--which was minimum, though I've liked them for eons, now--and have had moments of "ooooo....well that explains that". The US version of this compilation features singles and tracks from albums released 1981 through 1993, including new versions/remixes of some. It's, aside from one or two tracks, a great listen and showcases the evolution of New Order from Joy Division. My favorite New Order song, "Ceremony", is not included on this album--it was written during the days of Joy Division (Ian Curtis penned the lyrics)--nor are a few of my other favs, but they are on Substance and so it's not as though I don't ever get to listen to them. Favorites that are on this album are "Age of Consent", "Dreams Never End", "Regret" and "Bizarre Love Triangle".

"Regret" sounds like older N. O. and isn't. Originally released in 1993, on the album Republic, it carries this full band sound, so Modern Rock, which by this time was called "alternative", I guess. I love the guitar, it's rather anthem-like and contrasts with the keyboard electronica so well. It rides along with the melody during the chorus, boosting the gorgeousness of the song. Though I like the electronica of "Blue Monday" and the songs that go along with that (Many which are not on this comp.), I do prefer the tunes that include the live instruments and have a, to my ears, distinctly modern music sound. The songs that we danced to at The Blitz back in high school... "Age of Consent" and the like. We think we are so unconventional, so wise in our music likes, so different and, I'll say it, superior to all those top 40 and hair band kids. We know the real depth and talent of musicians and bands. We have the sophisticated taste. Good grief, pretentious much? Well, is it any different now? Really? Sure, I have a better appreciation of genres I may have scoffed at in jr. high and high school. I'm more ready to admit to liking sugary pop songs that aren't necessarily good, but they make me smile. (Though I have never, and I never will back down from loving Barry Manilow, so don't even try to mock me on that. It won't work.) But I still like music that isn't on the top 40 charts (unless it's a fluke) or the commercial "alternative" stations. I listen to the indie pop, primarily, and believe myself to like better music than the conventional stuff most people hear. Things haven't changed that much. Though, I like to think of myself as not getting on the "oh, well, now they've sold out so I don't like them anymore" complainer wagon. Rather, I am happy they get to make a living as artists and hope they continue to put out great records. If not, well then I can listen to the older stuff and remember when...

ANYWAY that's all blah blah blah which I'm sure I've already blahed about on this blog. Boring.

I'm not a big fan of "1963", it's cheesy. Narrative lyrics, verse, chorus, verse structure, which isn't a bad thing. I like songs written in that way, however, I find it very Movie of the Week/After School Special. The tune's fine, but nothing that grabs me and makes my musical heartstrings sing and get all fluttery. Maybe if they'd chosen a name other than Johnny? I dont' know, it's just cheese to me. Apparently, the band had wanted to release it as the single with "True Faith" the B-side, but the smarty pants execs suggested swapping the two. Well, "True Faith" was a HUGE hit so I guess it was a good move. Remember the video? Wow. That was a cool one. I think that was the year we got cable so I actually got to watch Mtv and they showed that in regular rotation, not just on 120 Minutes. I can also do without the UK World Cup football (soccer) team's theme song, "World in Motion". Call it the "Super Bowl Shuffle" of it's sport. Eh. I could do without that one, too. (My oldest sister, Gina, she bought that single. I think she was in love with Jim McMahon.)

They wanted to get away from the Joy Division, post-punk sound and they succeeded. It's great to hear that growth, and I'm glad that it wasn't gone, entirely, since some of my New Order favorites carry that with them. But "Fine Time"--come on! Bleeting sheep at the end? Very cool--and "Blue Monday" are wonderful examples of the handle they had on dance music, and those tunes are six years apart. I think they are innovative and are also probably why I associate techno with the Brits. (Well, I'm sure I was told that's where the dance beat came from, but N. O. is one of a few bands that I can name who I like and listened to on a regular basis.) Good job, guys!

The Best of The Songbooks (Discs 2 & 3)

2008-07-25T11:20:00.000-07:00

The Best of the Songbooks (Discs 2 & 3)-Ella Fitzgerald

Released: Polygram

September 24, 1996

Remiss I have been in my entries... and I have nothing to say except I was busy reading. Now, as the summer marks it's half way point (for me, anyway) I find that I actually have to WORK for two weeks before heading down to Southern Cal to visit Shawn. I mean, what kind of nonsense is this (she says with a wink and a smile)?! Phew! Temp work rocks!

So, let's get to it. We'll finish up with Ella--though she'll be back, I can assure you--and move forward to some New Order. Later. Tomorrow. Probably.

Discs 2 & 3 of the box set have titles: "Love Songs" and "Ballads", not in that order. What I find amusing about the grouping of love songs, is that they are all love songs. Were any popular tunes written in the hey day of dinner and dancing not? Most likely, but it seems that the majority that play on the perpetual juke box of nostalgia are, indeed, about some kind of love. Happy love. Sad love. Mad love. Silly love. Old love, new love, every love but true love... I love it. We should have more dinner and dancing in this world. The real kind. The kind where it's not for a lark and wouldn't it be fun if we got all dressed up like in the old days and pay for a steak dinner, some low lights and some dancing? But for real. A regular night on the town. Wonder what happened? I'm sure there are books about it, describing the rise and fall of the dining dancers. We're too busy. We're too lazy. We're too strapped for cash. High heels were shunned. (though they came back, left came back and now are back and with a vengeance...) Was it disco?

Well, if we all listened to Ella (Or Chet, or Dinah, or Etta, or Billie, or Sarah) we'd all be inspired to head out and trip the light fantastic with our lover, cheek to cheek and humming love songs into each others ear/shoulder/hair--where ever you happen to reach when dancing with said lover/date/stranger/friend. I'd definitely have to be wearing heels to reach Shawn's cheek.

The Best of the Songbooks (Disc 1)

2008-07-14T22:26:00.001-07:00

The Best of the Songbooks (Disc 1)-Ella Fitzgerald

Released: September 24, 1996

Polygram Records

(Now, this is strange... these songs were recorded when Ella was with Verve Records, recorded in the 50's and 60's, primarily; and here the box set is attributed to Polygram... well, not really that important, just something to note. Moving on...)

Sometime when I was a freshman in high school, my boyfriend, John Moreau, and I fell in love with Ella Fitzgerald. Maybe he was already enamored with her and he passed it along to me. Or maybe we discovered her at the same time. Doesn't signify. The point is that we loved her. Did it happen after my mom gave me The Cole Porter Songbook, full of his tunes that I could plunk out on the piano and sing to, because she knew how much I adored Kiss Me Kate? Or did that happen after the Ella infatuation? Perhaps it was after buying Red Hot and Blue, a tribute album to Porter with songs sung by the likes of David Byrne, Sinead O'Connor, Iggy Pop and Debbie Harry, whose proceeds went to HIV/AIDS funding? (That's a fabulous record, by the by. Annie Lennox's version of "Ev'ry Time We Say Goodbye" just broke my heart.) How, when and where is less important than that it happened at all. No one sings like Ella Fitzgerald. No one sounds like her. Her catalog is immense, but the songbooks are my favorite. The ones dedicated to Cole Porter are my all time favorite, but I'd be happy listening to her sing anything.

I just read that she has a three octave range. Wow. I knew it was big, but wow. Three octaves. That explains a lot, don't you think? Isn't the average 2 1/2? I particularly love her "Miss Otis Regrets" because she brings a true sense of regret and sadness to the song. I sympathize with Miss Otis, feeling awfully sorry for the poor, wronged woman. I also read that this was a favorite for many and she often sang this song during her encores. That darn mob, they should have had more sympathy for her. How moved she is by Miss Otis' plight.

With these songs--"standards" I think they call them nowadays--fans have their favorite singers and renditions. Trying to describe why one is better than another isn't the point of this entry, nor do I feel like I could do so. I don't have a bunch of versions, I have a few. I enjoy most of those singers--the old fashioned ones, primarily-- who sang the cannon of great American songwriters of the early part of the first half of the 20th century. But Ella's voice is velvet and silk. Her take on the songs is unique and completely intuitive. I am not an authority; I can't say how much of the arrangements are hers versus the band leader's, but I bet she's very influential. Listening to her is summer. It's cocktails and hors d'oeuvres. Dancing with your love, or falling in love with someone new. Drifting along on her smooth vocals, you don't even have to be doing anything at all. Not a thing. Humming along, swaying a little... whatever makes you feel good.

Beneath the Country Underdog

2008-07-07T14:28:00.000-07:00

Beneath the Country Underdog-Kelly Hogan and the Pine Valley Cosmonauts

Released: April 4, 2000

Bloodshot Records

The first time I listened to this album I thought that many of the songs sounded familiar, but I just couldn't put my finger on where I might have heard them originally. Except one song. The song that made me want to borrow the album from the library years ago. (I don't know why I never looked at the liner notes...) Hogan covers "Papa Was a Rodeo", by Stephen Merritt; the original can be found on one of the greatest albums made at the end of the 20th century, 69 Love Songs. After much searching around the internet, today, I was able to confirm that all but four songs were written for this album, three by Hogan and guitarist Andy Hopkins, and one by guitarist John Langford. The best songs are the covers.

Of the new songs, Langford's is, to my ears, preferable to the other three. I wanted to like "Crackers Rule" because I liked the tune, and have chuckled trying to figure out what "practicing drunkard's etiquette" could possibly look like. Many ideas have crossed my mind, all of them ridiculous in a silly way. But I lose my like at the title and at the refrain "Crackers rule this place, where we hide. Suckers long for yesterday, just let this day be mine." Maybe it's a Georgian thing? Maybe I'm a stick in the mud too proper for my own good gal? Her slavish devotion to this drunk, depressingly pathetic lover is a bit much for me, as well.

Enough about that. What I do like are Hogan's vocals. They are clean, solid and can be very pretty. Her versions of "Easy Loving" and "Whispering Pines" (by Freddie Hart and The Band, respectively) show a strength for phrasing and connection to the material. Her voice slides neatly on a note, lingering for effect when appropriate. Sort of like the slide guitar (or is it a lap steele?) and the fiddle playing in the background of "Easy Loving". This in contrast to letting go on "Wild Mountain Berries" (Conway Twitty and Loretta Lynn sang this one). It's cheesy, but fun. Frolicsome and cute. Pitchfork called it campy and not in a flattering way. Sure it's silly, big deal. Cheese can be very appropriate sometimes. I like that she lets loose a little more on this song, too. Growls, yips and whoops it up. There is still control, however. And maybe that's why I'm not super wild for Kelly Hogan and she'll just be a singer that I like enough to listen to but I doubt I'll crave her album. For me, she is missing an edge, which I think is partly what separates her from the likes of Neko Case.

I don't know much more about the Pine Valley Cosmonauts than I do Hogan, and I'm afraid I haven't much to say about their presence on this album. They play perfectly nicely, as far as I can tell, but there isn't anything about them that makes me stand up and take notice. I listen to this album because I like Hogan's singing and her take on the covers. This may say a lot more about the Cosmonauts talents as a backing band, as they meld well with the singer and it's all one enjoyable sound. Plenty pleasant to listen to but doesn't leave me with a need to listen to over and over again. That's a funny side affect of this project. When I listen to something that I love, it's so easy to sit through it at home, and then on my iPod as I walk around town doing whatever it is that I do. With a few albums, so far (I'm sooooooooooooooooooooooo barely scratching the surface...) I've been reluctant to get through them. The first time I tried to listen to Beneath the Country Underdog the day after I got back from Idaho, last week. I was going to Trader Joe's and Madison Market, which is a lot of time round trip on foot, plenty of time to hear it through a couple of times. I started it, I thought: Ok. That's right, this is a fun album. But by the time I got home I really couldn't imagine listening again, and I put in Pet Sounds for about 18 rotations. I was excited about that one and I couldn't get enough for three days. What is it, what is it, what is it? That thing that makes something so much better than something else?

Ben Folds Live

2008-06-23T21:33:00.000-07:00

Ben Folds Live-Ben Folds

Released: October 8, 2002

Sony

The only song that I knew by the band Ben Folds Five was "Brick". When I acquired this album, it was because I liked that song and I thought maybe there would be some more that I could like, too. Of course, he ditched the other folks that had made up the five, so on this he's just Ben Folds. I don't know the story of where they went, and I'm sure I'll find out from Wikipedia, at some point.

A man and a piano. And an audience, or two, or three. I still like "Brick", and it doesn't really sound any different on this live album than I remember it sounding when I heard it on the radio. Nowadays, when it pops up on shuffle, or I've put it on my singable songs playlist, I think of riding around in my mom's car on visits to Idaho. Maybe it was only one visit, hardly matters. In my memory, there are four of us in the car--Dana, Paige, my mom and me. We're listening to the radio station out of Sun Valley with it's mix between commercial "alternative" music and a smattering of not so commercial bands, like Built to Spill and Death Cab. (This is before Death Cab was playing Key Arena and huge amphitheatres, and still playing places like the Showbox...) Anyway, in this memory, it is also wintry outside. We're probably driving Paige to a school activity, or something. I like this memory. Even if it's not exactly accurate. I'll take it. The other thing I like about this song is that I think Folds has done an admirable job capturing an experience that I haven't had, and giving it emotion, texture. It's so grey. It brings to mind grey weather, grey washes over the song right down to the nature of the actions taken in the song. Nothing is clear or easy or finite. It's all grey... (Of course, the Pitchfork review had a good negative point about this song, which was that the high school girlfriend who he'd gotten pregnant and had the abortion probably doesn't appreciate being immortalized as a "brick"... touche and now I feel kinda bad for liking the song. Except that I'd had another interpretation of the term. That she was a lot tougher than he was. Laugh at my naivete if you wish...)

I could be happy to only ever listen to this song on the album, except that it's kind of fun, in general. It's pop. Good 'ole, sing-a-long pop. I read on iTunes that that particular reviewer didn't feel that this album added anything to any of the songs recorded in the studio. Rather, he missed the rhythm section and the harmonies that Folds created with additional band mates. Well, not having ever heard any of those, this one works for me. I don't feel a need to buy anymore Folds, solo or otherwise, as Ben Folds Live is plenty of Folds for me. This live album definitely showcases a talented pianist with a decent singing voice and acceptable lyricist. I can't help but picture frat boys and sorority girls fawning over him, though. Some of his songs possess a youthful exuberance that are a little too collegiate for me to really cross the threshold between good and great. (I'm not sure what I mean by that, but it makes sense somewhere in my critical brain.) Friends climbing up trees while tripping on acid and finding god. Buddies who can't let college go once they've gone, (we all know someone like that, sigh... and I like that song, too, "Silver Street", it's called.) Unwanted teen pregnancy. Dude, I love yous. I'm oversimplifying to make a point. He never says "Dude, I love you." But I wouldn't be surprised if he had in "The Luckiest", my least favorite song on the album. It's just too cheesy--perfect for the overly ernest youth falling in love--maybe he is trying to capture that? Hard to say. Well, at least he's more amusing than schmaltzy.

"Tiny Dancer" is a great cover, though. I will give him that. He does nothing to it but sing it and sing it straight. Yeah, yeah, yeah... after Almost Famous it was hard to ever hear that song, again. But it's nice to hear a sweet version. Suits him well.

Well, my loyal readership... I'm headed to Idaho, tomorrow. This means that I'll be taking a little break from my project. Sorry. I know you are all VERY disappointed. But since two or three of the five people that read this are going to be enjoying my company, I think I'll be forgiven. Take this opportunity to explore your own cd/record/tape/iTunes collection.

Being There (Disc 2)

2008-06-22T22:17:00.000-07:00

Being There-Wilco (Disc 2)

Released: Oct. 20, 1996

Reprise Records

Funny thing about setting myself a goal, or task, of sorts. This iTunes album by album thing. Yesterday, I didn't have a chance to listen to disc 2 of Being There, and I felt guilty. I felt like I'd forgotten to do something important, like turn off the iron, or brush my teeth. Today, another day of activities--yoga, interminably long bus out to Ballard to meet a friend, hang out with said friend, come home in the late evening--I had a restless need to just sit on my couch/futon and put on the record. I was going to let myself down if I didn't get this listening party for one completed, tonight. This is not the kind of personal pressure I need. I'm on VACATION!!!!!

Disc 2. Not as good as disc 1. I like some of the songs and I could do without others. Begins well enough, and then just sort of peters out...

The second version of "Outta Mind (Outta Sight) starts out like the "Sesame Street" song, in a way. It's not the exact same notes, but the rhythm and count is very close. I like this version, too. It's very jaunty, fun; the tempo has been straightened out a bit. The sentiments are neither jaunty nor fun, not in the literal sense. (Maybe they are for the guy who's getting over the girl, though. A bit tongue and cheek, perhaps?) "I know you don't love me. I know you don't love me anymore, alright." Well, whataya gonna do? My favorite song on this 2nd disc is "Someone Else's Song". Right combination of melancholy longing, tender melody, pretty guitar and great sound on the vocals--an echo, as if he's using one of those old crooner mics. You know the ones, right? They're very 1940's/50's; a singer can seductively cup his/her hand around it or do tricks with the base while swinging the whole thing around. After that song, which is the fourth track, I lose interest. I'm not a big fan of The Grateful Dead (who am I kidding? I'm not a fan at all.), and while I was listening to the rest of the album, with the exception of one song, that's who I was thinking of. Honestly, I couldn't say the remaining songs sounded anything like The Dead, but that's what got in my head. I did like "The Lonely 1". Again, it's got that melancholy thing going for it and Tweedy's vocals are wistful and a bit strained on the high notes, something sweet about that sound. I like the narrative structure of the lyrics as well as what I get from them. Public v. Private self.

It's not like I'm not going to delete the songs from my computer, or anything. If I decided to have a Wilco day and listen to all of the albums I have of theirs (well, aside from this, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and a live album, that's it) I wouldn't skip over these four or five songs. However, if I was just sitting at my computer with shuffle going on, I'd skip 'em if they came up. The review I read on Pitchfork wondered why they didn't just put out a single disc record and leave off some of the songs. Wonder if he was thinking of the same songs I am....

Being There (Disc 1)

2008-06-20T22:35:00.000-07:00

Being There (Disc 1)-Wilco

Released: Oct. 20, 1996

Reprise Records

Today is the longest day of the year. It got dark in Seattle around 10pm, as my friend, Marcus, and I were ending a walk we took, tonight, as we both had nothing in particular to do and live so close to each other. O. And it was SUPER nice out. A really lovely, long walk that took us through posh Capitol Hill nooks and crannies. It really was a great way to welcome the onset of summer. Marcus offered three questions for me to put on my blog, prior to talking about this album and here they are:

1. People still litter? Who does that?! (Because we saw litter on our walk and were really incredulous that there are people in this world who still think this is ok.)

2. Who uses styrofoam anymore?! (Because he was telling me about being at some place where they actually served him a drink in styrofoam.)

3. What guy thinks a lone female in a desolate area is actually going to go over to his car and "give him directions"?! (Because I related a story where this happened to me and my response was an indignant "no" as I continued the run I was on, but at a much faster pace until I was safely ensconced by apartment buildings and houses, again.)

Summer. Wilco. Being There. A double album and sold at the price of a one disc album. According to Wikipedia, this was an agreement made between Jeff Tweedy--lead singer and song writer--and Reprise records. Today I listened to only the first disc, and it seemed really appropriate for the weather and the time of year. It sounds like a good summer album, perfect for sitting out on your deck--if you are so fortunate as to have one--drinking a nice cold beer, or other cold beverage of your choice. I layed on my couch/futon and imagined that I had a deck. I did not drink a beer, though, I suppose I could have.

I don't know where to put Wilco. They're rock 'n roll. They're alt country-ish. Songs on this album, in particular, bring to mind The Rolling Stones, John Cougar Mellencamp (or John Mellencamp, or John Cougar, whatever he's going by these days...) and even a hint of The Replacements. Also some good ole' honky tonk twangin'. They are their own genre, in many ways. I'd used the term "roots rock" in my journal, today, wondering if that is where they'd be classified and the original review on Pitchfork used the same term. What, exactly, does that mean? American roots rock? Anyway, I think this band is well worth a listen and this album has many singable tunes. I'll tell you now that Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is, by far, my favorite Wilco release... but those "Y"s ain't coming for a loooooooooong time.

"Misunderstood", the first track, starts out with this strident sound of instruments--the band members all playing something other than their own--before easing into a much more melodic tune of a misunderstood fellow and then falling apart, in a way, with another noise assault and Tweedy's strained vocals "I know you've got a God-shaped hole, leanin' out your..." something or other, I'm not sure what he says. Anyway, the screaming of "Nothin', Nothin, Nothin" and that whole breakdown bit is my favorite part of the song.

I like Tweedy's love songs, such as they are, too. There is tenderness, there is longing and there is a romantic sentimentality to them; I wouldn't accuse him of being a mushy sentimentalist, thankfully. "Far, Far Away" and "Say You Miss Me" express similar ideas, longing to see the object of his affection, but in different circumstances. Both capture that feeling of love. One is waiting for you, though you might be on the road, or something. And the other aches with heartbreak and loss. Tweedy's raspy, too many cigarettes vocals carry that loss in them. They have that been there, seen that and that and that, post all nighter scratch. He's not necessarily jaded, but he certainly has been around the block many, many times.

If you haven't had the chance and if you're a Wilco fan, I recommend the documentary about their departure from Reprise, I Am Trying To Break Your Heart--one of my favorite song titles, ever, by the way. It's a fascinating look at a band as it learns that they're being dropped by their record label AND making an album at the same time. It's intimate and surprising. A glimpse into the music world and all its trials and tribulations.

Next up... Being There (Disc 2)!!!

Before the Dawn Heals Us

2008-06-19T22:50:00.000-07:00

Before the Dawn Heals Us-M83

Released: Jan. 25, 2005

Mute Records (US)

French band, M83, creates crazy cinematic landscapes for this album. The songs are grandiose, broad and, as one reviewer put it so aptly "baroque". Gold gilt is all over this puppy, my friends. It's a pretty great record to listen to, even when it seems to be a giant cacophony of instruments and voices. Lay back, close your eyes and let the movie begin...

For Before the Dawn Heals Us, M83 became a band of one, Anthony Gonzalez. He recruits a female singer, an actress and a host of celestial voices for back up. The sounds sweep, burst, lull and urge you along. This is electronica, and there are live drums and I'm pretty sure I hear some guitars in there, too. Though I wouldn't classify this as a concept album, I definitely listen to it like a story; it has an arc--really feels like there is a beginning, middle and end, complete with climax and denouement. It can be thrilling at times, such as when "Don't Save Us From the Flames" lunges at your ears, and creepy/exciting during "Car Chase Terror"--here, the text is read by the actress (Kate Moran, I don't know who she is but what a gig, huh?), I presume, and the fear in her voice has the ability to muster an unease in this listener. I think the text is written by the brother of Gonzalez, or so I read. Anyway, maybe the one song that kind of grates is "Can't Stop" with it's repetitive lyrics, "I can't stop. I can't stop, yeah.", over and over and synthesizers that are almost as repetitive. It's not horrible, by any means. This is not a perfect album. It's good. I enjoy listening to it. It wouldn't accompany me onto the proverbial desert island.

"I Guess I'm Floating" incorporates a pretty, light sound accompanied by the voices of children laughing and playing. What is it about that sound, echoey and distant, that makes one nostalgic? This song might be my favorite, or one of them, anyway. I do really like the previously mentioned "Don't Save Us From the Flames". Oh, yeah. "Safe" is terrific because it begins with a piano, a real one, and remains grounded through that instrument. Gonzalez's airy singing floats in and around and is joined by a synthesizer (or keyboard. I can't tell the difference, I'm sorry to say.) Even when the synth takes over the piano, volume-wise, the bass notes of the piano continue to keep the song tethered to the realm in which it started. Lovely. Continuing with my cinematic theme, I'm keen on how "A Guitar and a Heart" acts as the song that hits right after the climax, letting us know that things are about to wrap up. We're not through, yet, but soon. The final track, "Lower Your Eyes to Die with the Sun" is the synthesis of the entire album. Elements from all that came before find themselves in this nearly 11 minute song and bring things to a close.

I've heard really good things about the latest album, Saturdays=Youth, and even heard a song, or two, on the radio. (I adore the cover and the homage to John Hughes' teen flicks.) I'd like to get that and we'll just have to wait until the summer penny pinching is over.

Bang Bang Rock & Roll

2008-06-18T16:00:00.000-07:00

Bang Bang Rock & Roll-Art Brut

Released: May 30, 2005 (UK) and 2006 (US)

Fierce Panda

The first songs I heard on the radio from this album made me laugh. I thought it was pretty fun new punk rock and not overly serious. Simple and even, at times, sweet--"Emily Kane" is about as sweet as they come. I downloaded it from eMusic and hear songs pop up while the iPod or iTunes is on shuffle, but I'd never listened to it from start to finish. Not once.

I've now listened all the way through about five times and though the 15 songs in a row is beginning to grow on me, I still prefer to hear them at random, mixed among other songs. It's just too much the same--it's punk rock with a sense of humor, and not very complex. This is part of the charm of the band, of the album. I wouldn't want it any differently, but even nonstop Ramones can be a little much without some kind of a break; and I adore the Ramones, truly. (Have I just committed blasphemy?) Still and all, super fun songs and I wouldn't get rid of the album. "My Little Brother" is a reminder of my little brother, not because he went through a hoity-toity rock & roll phase in his early 20's, but from the first time I heard the song I just pictured Jess. (Remember when you "borrowed" my U2 tapes, little brother?)

Eddie Argos, frontman of the band, has a knack for declarative statements and my favorite by far is from "Good Weekend": "I've seen her naked, TWICE! I've seen her naked, TWICE!" It's the caesura (two beat pause the second time) between "naked" and "twice", combined with the emphasis of "twice" that never fails to bring a smile to my lips. (I was going to say exclamation of "twice" and then I realized that most of the songs are mostly sung with capitol letters and exclamation points...) He's so bloody excited while being totally floored by the experience; as if he can't believe it happened to him. There's a word for this, and it completely escapes me...

I enjoy the easy narrative that accompanies the songs, but wish for a little more elaboration, once in a while. "Fight" is one of those songs... it doesn't seem to go anywhere, lyrics-wise, and maybe that's the point. Fighting doesn't tend to get you anywhere, either--though I might be giving too much credit to the writer OR over thinking the lack of lyrics. Hmmm... that's kind of the same thing. Also, I will plead ignorance as to why the song "These Animal Menswe@r" is called that. I just haven't been able to get it. Regardless, I think that Art Brut was a refreshing band to bust out of the indie music scene back in 2005. Something totally different than what was happening and what had been happening. The band provides a good chuckle with some bouncy punk guitar and a respite from introspective, moody tunes--tunes that will always have a special place in my music lovin' heart.

Bachelor No. 2 (Or, the Last Remains of the Dodo)

2008-06-12T13:00:00.000-07:00

Bachelor No. 2 (Or, the Last Remains of the Dodo)-Aimee Mann

Released: January 25, 2000

SuperEgo Records

This album was on my personal rotation when I worked at the little antique jewelry/vintage clothing shop. Seemed perfectly acceptable. Mann's voice is never harsh and the melodies couldn't be construed as offensive or too loud for a retail shop. A couple of days ago, when I was listening to this in the background to prep for my official listen-through, I realized for the first time that track one, "How Am I Different" contains the line "When you fuck it up later do I get my money back?" A line that repeats throughout the song. I never noticed at the store because she sounds so pleasant while she's singing it. Even when I listened at home, I think I thought she was saying something like "muck it up"--the "f" bomb somehow slipped by. No one else seemed to notice, either, as there were never any shocked faces or complaints. Except from my boss, who simply didn't care for Mann. To each her own, n'est pas?

I enjoy listening to this album. I like singing along to it, and it's great tidying the apartment music. I've decided that her voice sounds kind of like an oboe. It's unique and has a very easy quality, which I like. She may sing about soured relationships, lost chances and mucking along through love, but she's not angry and she doesn't whine. Intelligent lyrics that don't shy away from examining herself (the singer as character) and making pithy observations. "It Takes All Kinds" includes, to this listener's ears, a little tongue and cheek nod to doo-wop with it's erroneously idealized image of the 1950's. Hardly congruent with the subject of this song. It makes me laugh a little. Clever little monkey...

Bachelor shares song writing credits with Elvis Costello, on "The Fall of the World's Own Optimist"; and Mann's partner, Michael Penn, offers his talents as guitar player and back up vocalist. I can hear Penn's influence, especially on "Susan". The opening guitar is very Penn; and I only know a few of his songs. Of course, it's entirely possible that I have no idea what I'm talking about--but we've established that already. Hmmmm... I suddenly have this vague recollection of seeing Michael Penn in concert... did I really? I think I'll have to ask my pal, Matt, because I sort of think he might have been there with me... or else I'm making this whole thing up. Also entirely possible.

On another note... I recently discovered--yes, a late bloomer almost always--a podcast of a radio program out of Chicago, that talks about music, called Sound Opinions. Two Chicago rock critics are the hosts, and they are pretty durn interesting to listen to. I listened to one, yesterday, that had been broadcast in April. They were discussing sound quality and the lack of it on cds, and especially mp3s. They lack depth, a three dimensionality, apparently. Vinyl is the way to go and that's just not an option for everyone. Vinyl is more expensive (just about twice, if not more, than what you'd pay for a download or cd) and not all artists have the time or money to invest in getting that kind of quality out of a recording session. Slightly disheartening, but super interesting nonetheless. I recommend checking out the podcast, if you have the time. They do air the show on my local NPR station, but I'm not consistent with television or radio series; I get distracted and find I have something else I'd rather do. Besides, what with podcasts and tv networks providing online viewing... well, I don't feel like I'm missing out. 'Cause I'm not.

Bach, in general...

2008-06-10T23:05:00.001-07:00

Look, kids, I've made an executive decision regarding this listening adventure. I have several albums of music composed by good ole' J.S.B. I don't feel equipped to really delve into what's good about them. It's Bach, for pete's sake!!! It's wonderful and momentous and gorgeous and I love it. He wrote for God. Whether you believe in that higher being, or not, a man that has that kind of faith and that kind of talents produced some astonishing work for his big guy in the sky. And there are, like, 4 albums right in a row. Look, believe me when I tell you that of all the music I own, J.S.B. does not get neglected. Either on my iTunes or my cd player. So, rather than going over each by each, I thought I'd just share with y'all what I did, today and tonight as I listened to hours and hours of Bach.

I went through stuff. Papers and photos and such. This is another one of my summer projects. To go through the boxes stuck up on the shelf in my closet and determine what I actually want to keep versus what I've been holding onto because I feel guilty about tossing out that hallmark card signed, "with love, Jenny". Who's Jenny? Catch my drift? And, as is expected in these situations, I got all caught up reading things and laughing at things and crying over things. Happy to report that I did not shed one tear over the person in my previous life. Just a little sigh out of respect for and a bit of "gee, glad I got outta that one!". Still, what does one do with the photos and the letters? Keep them? Chuck 'em? Any thoughts on this are welcome...

I have to say that I am more than a little impressed with my letter writing habits of the past. I have so many letters from friends and family. I am in the habit of making copies of the letters that I sent, as well, so it's like I have the WHOLE story!!!! When I read in one letter, "I can't believe you were able to get through the gate", I don't have to wonder what gate is being marveled at. I have the other side of the story right in front of me!!! (There was no story about getting through a gate. I was just trying for a little dramatic flare.) I'm floored by the amount of emails I wrote and printed while "working" at my corporate job stint. I guess once I got the hang of sluffing off at work, I was super good at it. Why do I keep all of this correspondence? I don't know. I'm a sentimental sap, that's all... I have journals starting from when I was eight years old, too. I'm not the most consistent journal writer, but I do keep one. (I admit that I have never gotten over the one that disappeared... summer 1988-1990, sometime? I try not to think on it, too much... it's so sad.) Some of the content is very difficult to read over, and so I don't. Some of it is terribly embarrassing--but it's for my eyes only, so it who cares, right?--Some of it is really fun. I had to call my baby sister and read to her a bit I wrote regarding her tonsillectomy. Good times.

The next step would be to organize the letters, emails, postcards, etc. in some kind of loose chronological order. Hey! I could be my own first archival project! Though, I think I'll hold off on that for a little while. This was a pretty big day and somewhat emotionally draining, despite the pleasant moments--of which there were many.

All the while Bach's glorious creations were the soundtrack to my day. I only left the house to go to yoga, tonight, and was right back at it when I returned. And, yes, I did manage to throw out a couple of boxes worth of gen-u-ine garbage as well as another box for the goodwill. (I've quite a collection of stuff to donate, at this point. Thank goodness Shawn's renting a car, again, when he gets here on Thursday...)

Bach rocks. Got it? Good.

Avalon

2008-06-09T22:34:00.000-07:00

Avalon-Roxy Music

Relased: 1982 (rereleased 2000)

Virgin Records, US

Avalon... the island where King Arthur mythically frolics, awaiting the day that he will return to rule over England. Excalibur was forged there... and it's also the name of a dreamy, new wave, jazzy album by Roxy Music. This is a band that I feel like I should, for the sake of my musical education, know more about than I do. The most important thing I know about Roxy Music is that Brian Eno was in the band, at first. And Eno is--well, he's a legend. Producer extraordinaire. Other than that and a couple of songs, they are one of those bands that I pretend to have a goodly knowledge of. Don't roll your eyes at me. You've done it too, when someone talks about a book or a movie that you feel as though you should have read/seen, but haven't. So, rather than admit to not having done this, you just nod your head and say, "Oh, yeah. That's a great one. Uh-huh." All the while thinking to yourself that you really should make the time to watch/read that one. Well, I just have enough huzzpah to admit to you, my loyal readership, that I haven't listened to as much Roxy Music as I should have, and that the only album I own is not even one of the early ones. It's the palatable, accessible and good Avalon. (Were there any after this one? Not counting the "we've gotten back together to make a new album" release from a few years ago.)

Bryan Ferry is the New Wave crooner. He's the singer who makes the girls and boys swoon as he dips and spins you through songs on his smooth vocals, crooning sweet nothings in your ear. What a guy. I do not say this in any kind of disparaging way, quite the contrary, but this album is SO 80's! Well, duh. I'll bet when it came out, though, that it was pretty innovative stuff. Synthesizers of this era have such a distinct sound. I have a special place in my heart for that sound--Depeche Mode, Yaz, Erasure, Thompson Twins, Howard Jones... sigh... I just can't get enough, har har har.

The melodies on Avalon, sometimes makes me think of 80's movie montages. The saxophone, the instrumental break in a song. I'll put this one in a noir-ish film, though. Remember how there was that 1940's revival in the early 80's? Well, that's where this belongs, stylistically. It's raining. Our hero, a private dick with a taste for whiskey and the ladies, is looking for one of the latter that's gone missing. Los Angeles? I know they say it never rains in LA, but I've seen it happen. And this album is particularly appropriate for a grey, drizzly day, but not a cold winter rain. Summer gloomy rain, or early fall. A lot like Seattle, lately.

"Is it raining in New York/on 5th Avenue/

and off Broadway, after dark/

You love the lights, don't you?/I could walk you through the park/

if you're feeling blue/or whatever."

("To Turn You On": at least I think that's what he sang...)

"or whatever"--isn't that great?! He's just so cool about it. Oh, he likes her. But he's not going to beg; wants her to know that he's available for her. There's just a hint of his deep desire, but it's not overdone. Later, he gets a little more intense, but it's not a down on your knees, pleading kind of tone. And the music backing him up isn't overly dramatic. It's cool, man. I like you. I'll do whatever to get you into me. Whatever.

The song I'm most familiar with, "More Than This", is really terrific. Ferry's vocals are melodic, caressing you as he carries you with him. Breezy and lyrical. The whole album is really composed, very clean and deliberate. Sophisticated. I kind of want to have a cocktail party--in shifts, I do live in a studio, after all--and play this album, along with other soft new wave hits. Maybe some Spandau Ballet? Haircut 100? Yeah. We'll drink Pimms cups and sit around talking about the music. A listening party. Hmmmm... that kind of sounds fun... maybe I'll actually go through with it... don't hold your breath, but I'll let you know.

Anytown Graffiti

2008-06-07T23:47:00.000-07:00

Anytown Graffiti-Pela

Released: April 23, 2007

Great Society Recordings

Right now, this is my favorite album. Not kidding. I actually have to stop myself from listening to it all of the time. Pela is, without question, one of the absolute best new bands (even though they've been around a few years...) of this decade. No question. I believe that they will be around for a very long time. I hope they will be around for a very long time. Recently, I geeked out and after seeing them at the Tractor Tavern, hopped on a train a couple of days later to see them play at the Doug Fir in Portland, OR. On a whim. Something completely uncharacteristic of me. But they were just so damn GOOD! They played like no band I've seen in a looooooooooong time. They played with love and joy and energy and heart and soul and generosity. The sold out Tractor folks couldn't get enough. When they were done, we were all wishing they would play more and more. It was such an intensely, singular and amazing experience that waking up a couple of days later and realizing that I could hop on Amtrak and see them play that night, I felt that I simply had to. A three hour-ish train ride later and I was checking into the hotel adjacent to the Doug Fir. Met most of the band as they were entering the restaurant--part of the Doug Fir; very inclusive kind of place to stay and see a show, if you're ever in the area--and I was exiting to get the wallet I'd left in my room.

"O. Hi."

"Hi."

"I just wanted to tell you guys that your show at the Tractor was so amazing that I had to take the train down to see you play tonight!"

"Really?!! Wow. I'm Billy. This is Tom, Nate and Chris [the tour manager, not the keyboard player.]. Thank you! That's so great. Gosh, I'm blushing." Handshakes and hugs. (Even if those weren't Billy's exact words, they're pretty darn close, and he did say that it made him blush.)

That's the other thing... they are so nice. Genuinely nice. Sincerely and wonderfully nice and grateful for the support and energy the audiences give. It's such a reciprocal relationship and I really believe it's uncanny. I see a lot of live music and even though I often enjoy the show and, if I'm paying to see them, I really like the band, I haven't seen this kind of show. I saw them play for a sold out crowd and two days later a not even 1/2 full house. They played with equal intensity and abandon. All out. No sluffing off because the crowd wasn't there. These guys love what they do and want to share it. That's really not as common as one might think. They are a rare gift to rock n' roll. BUY THEIR MUSIC. SEE THEM PLAY LIVE. You will not regret it.

Every time I hear this album, now, I still feel some of that thrill from their live show. They're the real deal. As Shawn said, via a text after seeing them at Spaceland, in LA, "Ok. They are 4 real." And how!

Listening to Anytown Graffiti is, even before I saw Pela's live shows, a unique experience. I get excited about what I'm hearing as I'm listening. Every time. The commitment and emotion is visceral. The intensity, palpable. In some ways, this album hints at early--like Boy early--U2, especially "Tenement Teeth". A song that also contains one of my favorite passionately sung/screamed lyrics "I kissed her lips of ruby red and this is what was said: LAND! LAND! LAND! LAND!" How about hearing that played, live, and a crowd of hepped up folks crying "LAND!" with you, huh? It almost can't get any sexier... "Calvary", less than 4 minutes long, was an emotionally powerful audience sing-a-long of 10 minutes, maybe even 15, at the Tractor. It's pretty powerful on the record, too. With the exception of track one, "Waiting on the Stairs" and the title track, "Anytown Graffiti", these songs come in at four minutes or less. They have a tendency to leave the listener--at least this listener--wanting more, but also knowing that had they gone on, it would have been too much. Pretty smart, lads. The talented McCarthy's powerful and emotionally charged vocals ride along with the playing of his fellow supremely talented band mates. Readers of this blog will already have noted that I'm a sucker for resonating-beats-in-your-chest drumming and Pela's Tom Zovich is among the best drummers working, today, in my humble opinion. Wow.

As a whole, this album is gloriously not over produced. You know how that can happen. It can sound too perfect. Too crisp. This record, for me, sounds like they're all playing in the same room together, like in the old days of recording. Not laying down individual tracks, with musicians in separate rooms. There is a rawness and alive quality to this album. Lyrics that evoke lost loves and hard living, while not getting stuck in morose, self-pitying mush. No, too much passion for that. The final track, "7th and 17th" is an acoustic guitar accompanied by the sounds of children playing--a city pool?-- and a thunderstorm's arrival quietly ends the album. Summers past, when life wasn't so complicated by heartache and desire... lovely.

I gush. I know. I probably blabbered on too much when I met them at the restaurant, too. I can't help it. They make me excited for the future of music. They're inspiring. I feel compelled to spread the word that is Pela. Even if I wind up sounding like a silly groupie. I'm not. It's not like that at all. I believe in this band and their talent. These guys are special. Rare.

Antics

2008-06-06T19:42:00.000-07:00

Antics-Interpol

Released: September 28, 2004

Matador Records

I don't know how the KEXP djs do it. Especially John Richards and Cheryl Waters. During the pledge drives, they basically dj for 8 hours (from 6am until 2pm) while encouraging, cajoling, begging, cracking up and cracking listeners up. For five days--except in the case of this drive because they started early. Maybe they even showed up on other people's shows over the weekend. I don't know. I was working, so I didn't listen. But my goodness! I answered phones during the 10-2 slot on Wed. and Thurs., and then today did the 6-10 followed by the 10-2 shift and I'm EXHAUSTED!!!! I got fed and got to laugh and enjoy the wonderful sense of community and camaraderie and take some pledges. I had a script to follow. I didn't have to actually think of new and interesting ways of asking for money and pick out great music to play.

I can barely keep my eyes open. I kept taking mini naps as I was listening to Interpol's excellent 2nd album. This music is perfect for laying back and absorbing. It's richly layered and fits in very nicely with the whole post-punk music genre. (RIP Joy Division...) An aspect of the entire album that I just love, love, love are the bass lines. They are so clear and not simply used as.... well, as a bass line. In each and every song the bass hovers above and is, quite frankly, easy to follow. Not easy because it's not interesting, but I can HEAR it. "Evil", which seems to be the favorite iTunes download, leads with the bass. When the guitars join in, they're complementing the bass, not taking over the song, entirely. Sometimes I think the bass is relegated to a less important role in music, simply there to dum, dum, dum along under all the other instruments. Not with this band. Carlos D. is not your average bass player, that is for sure. And, having seen them perform, I can attest to his captivating stage presence. Very intriguing. When I saw them, he was done up all in black, with high lace up boots, suspenders... yeah, he looked a little apocalyptic military, but it was pretty coo-ul...

A dreamy sound, for Interpol, in "Public Pervert" as Banks sings near the end "Swoon baby, starry nights, may our bodies remain", only to then attack with the guitars reinforces the many musical surprises within the record. I wouldn't call the songs negative, nor the sentiments necessarily downers, but there is definitely a sense of resigned loss. "C'mere": "It's way too late, to be this locked inside ourselves/The trouble is, that you're in love with someone else/It should be me, oh, it should be me". But it's not. And that expresses a lot of the sentiments, as well as the overall sound, of Antics. It's just not going to happen for "him" and so there's a little frustration, a little despair... a little edge to the voice. But it's a lush despair.

Ancient Melodies of the Future

2008-06-03T22:27:00.000-07:00

Ancient Melodies of the Future-Built to Spill

Released: July 10, 2001

Warner Bros. Records Inc.

Having nothing to do with Ancient Melodies and everything to do with the world, Barak Obama is the Democratic nominee for president!!!!! I'm so excited and pleased and awed that I just had to say, "Right on, Obama!!!" Congratulations. Wow. Less exciting news and also little to nothing to do with the aforementioned album, I learned three guitar chords today! G, C and F. My ring and middle finger tips feel a little numb, right now. I learned these guitar chords over the phone, while being talked through them by Shawn. What a guy, huh?

Okie Doke. Built to Spill. Love 'em. Fabulous live shows; they have so much material and you never know what they're going to play. Do outrageous covers. Play with an intensity and focus that even infects shoe gazers with the urge to nod their heads in equally focused time to the music. I vowed that next time they play in Seattle, I would get tickets for two shows, not just one. They usually play two or three nights at the Showbox and they always sell out. "Going Against Your Mind" is one of the all time best songs ever to start a show, that I have had the pleasure of seeing/hearing--but that's on You in Reverse, so we won't be getting to that album for a looooooooooong time.

So, Ancient Melodies of the Future. Catchy tunes. Short tunes, especially for this band. Rockin' guitars and steady drums. "In Your Mind" is a swirl of hypnotic simmering anger with the fantastic flourishes of an Eastern flavor perched above the guitars via a keyboard. A steady acoustic guitar accompanied by subtle drums and bass. When the electric guitar takes over, the underlying sounds of the other instruments don't skip a beat or soften, they keep going and it's all so very, very good. There are even some ballad like songs on this album. Martsch's vocals aren't quite as insistent, he takes it down a notch and there's more of a gentleness to the singing and playing. And yet, those songs--"The Weather" and "You Are", in particular--aren't what a traditional ballad would be. They have a definite edge and would hardly be something you'd want to dedicate to your loved on the night time airwaves. (Do people still do that? My friend, Marni, and I used to do that in 5th grade. Only I'd call in and say that Marni wanted to dedicate "Crazy for You" to our mutual crush, Cory, and she'd do the same using my name. We would huddle over the radio waiting to hear if the dj actually said the dedication and then secretly hope that Cory was listening but feign mortification to each other... aaahhhh... good times.)

"Fly Around My Pretty Little Miss" is the closest, I believe, that Built to Spill ever came to having a commercially played pop song. Of course, I can't swear to that. Since I don't listen to commercial radio (THANK YOU, POWERS THAT BE, FOR KEXP!!!! You, too, can listen from your very own computer...) I have no idea what kind of air time it may, or may not, have enjoyed on corporate-owned "alternative"--gack--radio stations. I remember walking into the Gap, downtown, and suddenly this song comes over the in store speakers. ??????? I have a distinct memory of looking around to see if anyone else noticed--or even recognized--the song and then, for just a second thought, "It's all over. Next they'll be playing at Key Arena and I'll never get to see them at the Showbox again." Well, that didn't happen. Even if they had the opportunity to play such a venue, I get the sense that they would decline. And, despite it's "cross over" appeal, it's a fun, catchy little number. Even a shoe gazer would have to look up to bounce up and down to this one...

Amnesiac Clarification

2008-06-03T17:55:00.001-07:00

When I said that this album wasn't thought to be as good as Kid A, I hope y'all got that I didn't mean it wasn't well-received. I was just looking at yesterday's post and I suddenly got worried that someone else might read it and think I was dissing Amnesiac; I wasn't. I'm not. It's good. Darn good. Just not as good.

Radiohead could sing the telephone book and it would be good.

Amnesiac

2008-06-02T22:04:00.000-07:00

Amnesiac-Radiohead

Realeased: June 2001

Parlophone, Capitol

Hmmmm... Amnesiac was released the same year as Kid A, and is widely believed to be not quite as good. Well, that may be so. I still like it. I just got done reading one reviewer's opinion that this album lacked cohesion. In the strictest sense, he's right. The songs do rather jump from one style to another without making a lot of sense. However, I hear this record as the soundtrack to some sci-fi flick that takes place post nuclear holocaust in a vast wasteland that was earth. I can see this movie running through my head as the tracks move from one to the other. And, despite Yorke's reassurance, in "Pyramid Song", that "There is nothing to fear, nothing at all", I don't believe him. In the world that these songs conjure up in my brain, there is a lot to fear. Robots are making slaves of the leftover humanoids and there ain't no hope for humanity. Run, if you can...

Radiohead has made better albums than this one, true, and if this is as bad as it gets, well, we should all be so lucky. It doesn't really sound like their previous albums; I think that they were experimenting on this one. Trying out new toys and ways of producing sound. My favorite tune is "Life in a Glass House", with it's 1920's speakeasy jazz trombones. The clarinet and horns talking to one another... It's the end of the night and everyone's tight on moonshine and whiskey. Smoke so thick you can't see who you're dancing with--hell, you can barely stand up anyway. But it's still in the futuristic movie. See? I don't have a lot of sci-fi, as a genre, experience, but I LOVE it when there's an element of the past in futuristic movies. And I mean decades in the past. Like Blade Runner is a 1940's film noir and Cowboy Bepop is the 60's version of the wild, wild west. So, in the movie that is this album, the humans go to speakeasies and the women wear kohl black eyeliner, and it's smeared and they're tired. O, so tired.

Alligator

2008-06-01T20:45:00.000-07:00

Alligator-The National

Realeased: April 11, 2005

Beggars Banquet

Mmmmmm....The National. This album is stellar. Their 2007 release, Boxer, is even better. And this one is soooo good. It's intelligent. It's melancholy. It's poetic. It resonates. It's solid. I picture these environs that I have never really lived in, but imagine to be what drunken, tired love looks and feels like. Not falling down, sloppy drunk. Smoldering, functioning drunk. Kind of like a Romantic poet drunk--tragic and beautiful. You don't want to live like them and yet part of that capital "R" is wrapped up in the ugliness that contributed to the work.

"Daughters of the Soho Riots" incorporates the piano like a thought floating in the air. A chord lingering here. A note hanging there. Never overwhelming. Like the lyrics, it just leaves you contemplative and thoughtful. Berninger's voice is a mellow instrument, in itself. Smooth (with a hint of a rasp) and tuned like a cello. It's as if he's talking to you, really confiding these thoughts--so personal and not always flattering--and I feel a little sorry for the "guy". Whether Berninger is really such a sad boozer, or not, I don't know. Not important. (For his sake, I hope not.) But wherever these words come from, the connection to the material, it works. The band plays beautifully. Driving some songs, lifting up others. Though I can't tell you why, I know that they're not your every day rock band. They are very, very talented. Every time I listen to this album, I hear something new that adds to the layers of great that are there. The way the drums and strings come in after the first verse of "Val Jester"--the steady build from the snare to the bass drum softly taking over. These songs are orchestrated, they are composed; it's all very deliberate and evocative. The sadness (which isn't of the boo-hoo-hoo variety, but the deep, tired and sort of resigned kind) appeals to me on so many levels. And then, when they bust out with the insistent, repeated screaming of "My mind's not right, my mind's not right!", well, I'm right there with 'em. Sometimes my mind's not right, either. The thrumming bass line underlining the guitars and drums which share that desperate quality of the vocals...yeah. They rock.

Other favorite lyrics/moments from Alligator:

"I had a secret meeting in the basement of my brain"--ummm... I have those almost every day. ("Secret Meeting")

Who is Karen? I don't want to be Karen, but I want to be a Karen in some musician's lyrics. ("Karen" and "City Middle")

"We'll run like we're awesome, totally genius"--dude. ("The Geese of Beverly Road")

Total road trip music, night time driving. Summertime at night in the park on the grass star gazing music

The reference to Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, only she's the one waiting for the "click"... ("City Middle")

All That You Can't Leave Behind

2008-05-29T15:09:00.000-07:00

All That You Can't Leave Behind-U2
Realeased: October 23, 2000

Universal-Island Records, Ltd.

Sometimes I surprise even myself. When I listen to these albums and make my notes, I want to hear the whole thing through a couple of times before writing anything on the blog. Only after I've jotted down my own observations do I then like to look for reviews of the particular album or band to see what others have said. Out of my own curiosity as well as to make sure I've got an idea of the chronology of the the release, etc. I read someone else's review, a writer practiced in music-speak, and I think "gee, that was well-put." Or, "gee, I never would have noticed that, myself."

Here is what I wrote, verbatim, after listening to this U2 album several times:

This U2 album was not a disappointment when it was released. First album they put out in the 21st century. Two decades of U2. Wow. Anyway... I liked it immediately--Shawn had bought it--and we listened to it a lot. What I find interesting is that, despite the depth and emotional quality, it's a pretty laid back record. The drums seem light and easy, not a lot of hard (read "raw") guitar riffs. The musical arrangements are excellent and provide variation and surprises; but with the exception of "Beautiful Day" and "Elevation", they're taking you on a walk. An important, serious, thought-provoking walk. The influences of all they've done musically have come together and produced this older, wiser record.

I'm not saying I've written anything especially profound, here, but I read a review from The Guardian and, basically, he said something along the same lines. Of course, he said it really well and intelligently and much better than I did. Still, I am a little pleased with myself for making similar observations. I've never been much of an album review reader. Not until lately, and mostly waaaaaaaaay after the fact. I like going about it backwards. If I hear a band on the radio that I like and I buy the album (or download it from emusic.com, which is buying it, but not physical ownership of the disc... i miss liner notes) I want to hear it without the words of a reviewer in my head at the same time. I don't like to read film reviews of movies that I'm going to see, either. I wait until after I've seen the movie and then I go back to read it.

Back to the record...

This is a much simpler album than their previous releases of the 90's. Back to their roots, so to speak. Listening to it, I'd put it much closer to The Joshua Tree than Pop or Zooropa--especially the guitar--are they called "hooks"?--on "Walk On". Adam Sweeting, of The Guardian, called it "vintage Edge" when he wrote about "Beautiful Day". I say vintage Edge is all over this album. Bono's vocals are particularly emotional and aching, especially on "In a Little While". The way his ragged, tired voice cracks makes my knees a little weak. And I know that it means that he's not treating his vocal chords very well, but gosh... A completely singable bunch of songs. There is something very solid about this album, too. I truly get the sense that these musicians have been doing this for such a long time, together, (in a good sense) and the fluidity of the collaboration is evident. It's hard to make music this good, this clear. It's rare. (Am I going to wind up saying that about many bands/records on this journey? hmmmm... Perhaps I should avoid such statements in the future. Well, without a doubt, U2 deserves such accolades, that I know.)

All For Nothing (Disc 1)

2008-05-26T09:04:00.000-07:00

All For Nothing-The Replacements

Released: October 28, 1997

Reprise Records

This is actually two discs, but the second disc comes up as Nothing For All on the 'ole iTunes, and so I'm not going to mess with the order. The first disc features songs from the major label releases on Sire Records: Tim (1985), Pleased to Meet Me (1987), Don't Tell a Soul (1989) and All Shook Down (1990). A couple of months ago I heard an interview on KEXP with Jim Walsh, whose book about the band, The Replacements: All Over but the Shouting, was published last year. I do want to read it, and hopefully I'll get to it this summer before school starts in September. He and Kevin Cole (the dj interviewing him) talked about how they just never took off in the way they should have. I have read and heard, before, how the band kinda shied away from the spotlight when they had the opportunity; and when they were ready (and sober, I believe) to dive in, they just didn't make quite the splash anticipated. Too, too bad. I remember when Don't Tell a Soul was released and everyone I knew loved the single, "I'll Be You". I was a freshman in high school and had heard of the band, but didn't own any music. (I didn't own a lot of music, period, unless I could get it used from Zia and it was $2.99. Can you believe that? Used tapes used to be $2.99... did I just do one of those, "When I was your age music used to cost a nickle!" things? Ouch.) Even then, among those who had followed the band there was talk of "selling out" on that album. Well, others claimed the same thing when they signed to a major label after Let it Be. Am I talking out of my ass, here? Probably.

In college my boyfriend at the time owned lots of Replacements cds. Hurrah! I became a much bigger fan and sans the "they've sold out" baggage. Not that I haven't been a curmudgeon in that regard. And some bands really do. They get big and they get lazy and they lose something. Not everyone. Not every band that can sell out Wembly Stadium has signed a contract with the corporate devils and lost all artistic integrity. Now in my 30's, I've tried to let go of the whole "ahhh... That band I like had a successful record and play concerts at Key Arena now. They've sold out." Bull. Great bands should make money. Good for them. The bummer in that is the inability to see them in a small venue and for less dollars. Otherwise... as long as the music is still good, back off naysayers! I digress. The point of the boyfriend/Replacements catalog is that when we were no longer together I no longer had a steady supply of their albums. It's taken me quite a while to acquire some more, and that's till not much. What with the Rhino Records reissue of the first four (?) albums and the future release of the rest of 'em, I plan to remedy this situation. Until then...

"Left of the Dial" starts out this compilation album. Outstanding, and appropriate, first choice. That guitar intro thrills me every time I hear it. A declaration. An anthem of underground music. "Here Comes a Regular" always makes me think of my friend, D., and a letter he wrote me from Seattle when I was still living in Phoenix and we did things like that. Write letters and miss each other. He wrote that he'd seen Westerberg play at the Crocodile and when he sang that song, tears happened. I don't hear this song without thinking of that letter. Of D. Of our friendship.

Besides the lyrics and the guitar, what I love about the Replacements is the DRUMS! It's the exact kind of drumming that makes me giddy when I hear it and too bad for me that I never saw them live. Bands with infectiously great drums I am a sucker for. I don't know how to describe it or what the precise quality is that gets me, but there is definitely a certain something and that je ne sais quoi remains a theme in my music likes. The Walkmen, U2, Pela, The National... o so many others, but those immediately come to mind (probably because that's what I've been listening to, lately). One day, I'm going to come across a writer who articulates that quality that resonates all over me, and I'm going to copy it down and then I'll be able to say why.

What I like about the set up of the album, in general, is listening to the maturation of the band. I don't mean to say they grow up, though they do--we all do, hopefully. (I realize that the band went through some lineup changes and that the final album was essentially a Westerberg solo project without officially calling it that.) Maybe it's that despite never having the commercial success that they deserved--above many other bands who did--they never sound like they gave up. They still believed in making music and making it good and not being stuck.

Aladdin Sane

2008-05-25T07:52:00.000-07:00

Aladdin Sane-David Bowie

Release Date: April 13, 1973

RCA Records

I'm reading a biography of Sam Cooke, and have been impressed with the writer's ability to talk about the singing styles of the gospel quartets that are discussed. How a song is interpreted and what made one group's lead more skilled than another. Specifically, he articulates the nuances of Cooke's own voice and style as it is developing. (He's still a young man singing around the country with the Soul Stirrers, at this point in my reading...). Anyway, I wish I had that knack.

I have listened to this album many, many times over the last few days. My first try at the "listen-through" was back on May 8, but I was interrupted and then I was just too sleepy to bother. Then I had a paper to finish, a final to complete and a trip to NYC to take. Aladdin Sane was put on hold. I started again on May 22, but I got so hungry while I was listening that I put down my notebook and pen and picked up a knife and cutting board instead. Still listening to the album, mind you. This morning, jet lag seemingly having taken over my sleeping pattern--except that I manage to stay awake until midnight-ish--I decided to give this one another go after unsuccessfully trying to go back to sleep. (Quelle introduction, n'est pas?)

OK. I wanted to be really clever and insightful with my thoughts on this album; Bowie is a long time favorite of mine and I still live in hope that I'll manage to see him in concert before he stops touring, forever. He is one of the few musicians that I would be willing to spend much more than is sanely necessary to see perform live.

Wikipedia, an always handy--if somewhat questionable--source says that Bowie described this album as "Ziggy goes to America", and there is a very American feel to the songs. Blues, doo-wop, boogie-woogie... it's all there. I'd even say there are some Spanish hints (emphasis on hints, mind you) in "Lady Grinning Soul", it only lacks a trumpet declaring itself at the start. He uses the piano, instead, to trippingly light effect. This is, no question in my mind, a great album. I've read that it's considered one of his best, though I'll have to admit it's not one of my favorites. But when you like them all, that's not a bad thing. I find it interesting that the vocals seem to be secondary to the music. Or maybe it's just the recording I have. Or maybe I'm crazy and that's the point. I'd like to be able to comment on the lyrics, but I have to be honest and say that for all the times I've listened to this record (even before my little project) I hear the music first and foremost. The words are an afterthought. O. Yeah. What's that he said? I think I'm missing out on some great fun, as the lyrics have been called "audacious". Really? How intriguing...

As my first exposure to Bowie were his Let's Dance, mod years, I feel like I'm always working backwards with him; trying to understand how he's evolved and not get stuck only listening to what I heard on the radio. I loved the skinny tie, skinny man sexiness of him during the early 80's and, unfortunately, compare all to that. Though, many of his earlier songs are favored above that particular incarnation. Plenty of time to get to those...though, not for a while. The alphabetical thing, and all.

There is one song on this album that I remember hearing when I was a young thing, and I'm pretty sure that I thought I was soooooooooooooo cool because I knew of this early David Bowie song. Remember the television program Friday Night Videos? We didn't have cable, therefore no MTV. We wee Blumenthals stayed up late (or tried to, anyway) to watch music videos on this program. I have a memory of seeing the video for "Let's Dance" or "China Girl", one night, and then the host--was there a host?--showing a little retrospective of Bowie's work. Whether this was real, or not, I cannot say. But I have a distinct memory of watching a video for "Jean Genie", which to this day makes me think of blue jeans, though none are to be found in the song or the "video" I believe I saw. A genie, in big genie pants and a painted face...a runway stage? I don't know. Maybe it was footage from a concert.

Across the Borderline

2008-05-07T23:59:00.000-07:00

Across the Borderline-Willie Nelson

Release Date: March 23, 1993

Sony BMG Music Entertainment Inc.

Willie Nelson will always conjure memories of listening to Red Headed Stranger on the silver stereo in the living room with the green carpet back in Idaho. One of a handful of tapes/records that the whole family seemed to like--Best of Simon and Garfunkel was another one. Who was this red headed stranger? So mysterious...

This lovely glimpse into Americana and the highs and lows of simply being is a gem. Duets, covers, originals... it's all here. The first song, a cover of Paul Simon's "American Tune", is a strong start as it begins with vocals. I found myself surprised, every time I played it. Oh. No instrumental lead in. And Nelson's easy, breezy singing leaves me feeling a bit sad about the state of affairs in America. (duh... that's been going on for nigh onta eight years now...) His duets with Bonnie Raitt--"Getting Over You"--and Sinead O'Connor--cover of Peter Gabriel's "Don't Give Up"--are beautiful. Aching and sad. Unlike the original of the latter, Nelson's phrasing and low key singing make one think that he has, indeed, given up. And what a great contrast in vocal styling with Bonnie Raitt. She has more tension--not the bad singing technique type--in her sound while his is loose.

Speaking of phrasing... I've always loved the way that Willie offers up the pause. He has this way of singing a line, pause, singing another line, pause, sing, pause, sing, pause. It informs the song in a way that is unlike most singers. I read somewhere that he's like Frank Sinatra in that way. I can see that... So much happens in those pauses. Where Sinead will sing "we don't need muuuuuuuch of anything", Willie would say "we don't need much/(pause)/of anything". Very different. Though, she does sort of mimic his phrasing on their duet. I really like to hear a cover that has something new to give, rather than a copy of the original. This cover is fantastic.

This love fest can recognize faults of Nelson's, too. Particularly on track 11, "I Love the Live I Live" (written by Willie Dixon), where the vocals are strained and reminds me that as lovely as he sings, he doesn't have much of a range. Call me crazy--heh, heh, one of the greatest songs ever written, thank you Willie--but I still really like the song. Maybe all the more because it's not the best for his voice. I'm just blinded by my nostalgic love of him, I guess.

Goodness, he just makes it seem effortless. His guitar playing completely matches his singing, both have an easeful quality that is so quintessentially Willie Nelson. Shawn and I saw him at the Emerald Queen Casino in 2001 or 2002... he was totally cool. And I mean that in the calm and collected sense. Sold out show. I thought it was funny that he was at a place that generally showcases has been talents (sorry has beens, no offense). He had this gimmick where he'd tie a bandana round his head, take it off and toss it into the crowd, one after another. I was much too far back to even think about getting one, but it was fun to see. Sing, wrap, tie, toss. Repeat. Wouldn't that be keen? To have a red bandana tied and briefly worn by Willie Nelson? I'd totally wear it all the time and tell anyone who'd listen where I got it.

Achtung Baby

2008-05-06T21:40:00.000-07:00

Achtung Baby: U2
Release Date: November 19, 1991
Universal-Island Records, Ltd. (but was it still just Island back then?)

Where shall I start? U2 is one of my all time favorite bands, EVER. Has been. Is now. Will be. I am ashamed to say that I'd kind of forgotten about this album. WHAT WAS I THINKING?!!!! I started the first play through at 5pm, today, and have been listening to it non stop since then, except for the time I spent in yoga this evening. The first of the 90's U2 and it's this wonderful, driven, sexy, painful, pleading, damaged, seductive, grinding journey. I love that it begins with "Zoo Station", which has a bright, heady anticipation to it. He's "ready". Ready for this. Ready for that. "Ready for the laughing gas/Ready for what's next." And throughout the rest of the album, it's like this character is going on these different adventures and finding lots and lots of pretty and not so pretty people; but there is still love, even when it hurts. Hell, love in its pretty and not so pretty state. By the end, "Love is Blindness" is just exhaustion. Beautiful exhaustion. Even at the end of the song, he kind of rallies, only you can tell he's still really, really tired.

"love is clockworks and cold steel/ fingers too numb to feel it/ squeeze the handle blow out the candle/love is blindness"

The single was "Mysterious Ways", and when I was listening to that song, I thought of Phoenix and sun and driving with the windows down--and that crappy "alternative" radio station that was by my account only an alternative to the other crappy stations on the dial--At first I assumed it must be because there was no air conditioning in whatever car I was riding in. Now I realize that it was because it was "winter" and, well, you could drive with the windows down. Was John Moreau still my boyfriend? He was a HUGE U2 fan. He ditched 1/2 a day at school so he could buy Rattle and Hum when it was released (so cool in my 14 year old book); and, unless I've got my memories mixed up, I think he picked me up from school to give me a ride home anyway. What a guy... but, we may not have been together by the time this one was released. It went back and forth there for a little while. If I could write out the sound of a chuckle I would, because I just got a vision of John M., Thom...what was his last name?..., Brent someoneorother, Ben Brittain, and other folks that I can't recall, going to see the movie version of Rattle and Hum in the theatre and dancing in the aisles, we were all so excited by it! And, naturally, because it opened with the Sun Devil Stadium shows we felt a special thrill. Was it the night that I was there? Or was it the second night? No. I'm sure it was the first night...

Absolute Torch & Twang

2008-05-05T12:42:00.000-07:00

Absolute Torch and Twang, by k.d. lang and the Reclines

Released 1989 by Warner Bros.

(This is going to take me a loooooooooooong time, this listening to every album on my iTunes.)

I really like k.d. lang. Her voice is rich and expressive. She can growl, yee-haw and lull you into a smokey nightclub reverie. That said, I'll have to say that I'm not a big fan of this album. According to iTunes, it's a "consistently great album". Yeah. It probably is. Rolling Stone gave it a favorable review when it was released back in 1989, as well. But what I've decided after one full listen and another 1/2 way (it plays now, as I type) is that I'm kinda bored. I'm not drawn into wanting to listen to it...if one or two songs popped up during a shuffle rotation, I probably wouldn't skip them, but I wouldn't put them on a playlist, either. Except for one song, track 6, "Wallflower Waltz", which I could easily hear re-imagined by Margot Timmons on another Trinity Sessions like recording. (High praise since I truly love that album and wish I had the new version.) The longing trill of the mandolin is a sound that appeals to my own melancholy chords and lang's smooth lower register evokes the sad ache of a gal watching others invited to dance as she is passed by.

I can easily picture the PBS special shown during pledge drives. k.d. lang croonin' with her easy, breezy vocals. The mostly white, mid-40's audience in a place like Gammage Auditorium (sorry, I don't know where else to say that might be more universally recognized), sitting in their seats, politely tapping their toes or keeping time with their hand on their knee, smiling and bobbin' their heads from left to right in a nice one-two, one-two. Some people happily singing along, because they know all the words...

If someone told me that this was one of their favorite lang albums, I wouldn't knock 'em. It's probably a great record and I'm still going to delete it, with the exception of track 6, from the ole' iTunes. There are at least two other albums of hers on here that I like a whole lot more and have listened to numerous times--even before I had a computer or iTunes.

15.5 Days of Music and Counting

2008-05-02T18:11:00.000-07:00

OK. So I had this idea while I was getting ready this morning. What with "summer" coming and everything--sort of unemployed and no summer classes--i wanted to give myself a project of sorts. Now this in addition to the other projects I've already decided I'll be doing. This one will be fun and perhaps even illuminating.

You know how on the bottom of your iTunes library there is a number that tallies how many songs you have and how many days worth of uninterrupted music you can listen to should you so choose? Well, every time I look at that number I think to myself "Really? Hm. Wonder what's on here?" So, here's my plan. When I get back from NYC, I am going to listen to one full album a day. Maybe more than once. Or maybe two albums a day. Maybe I'll start before I go and just take a break while I'm gone, resume when I return. I don't know. I'll decide next week. Anyway, I'm going to keep a little notebook next to me and just let myself go... jot down whatever comes to mind as I listen. My very ambitious plan would be to post some daily album thoughts/reviews on the blog, but I can't promise that. Maybe a weekly summary. It will just depend on what I'm doing that day and how I'm feeling. I'm sure my tiny readership is on pins and needles now, waiting to read how this will all turn out. Ha. We'll see...

I'm stealing this idea from Sarah Vowell. She kept a radio listening diary and published her pithy musings. I entertain no such ambitions. I just want to listen to all this music that I have, supposedly because I like it. Who knows if I even do. I already know that the collection on my iTunes does not reflect all the music I like or wish I owned. My physical CDs don't, either.

There is much missing from my collection and perhaps I'll be inspired to fill in the blanks. For that I'll have to save up some dough, because the budget is going to be tight. Tight I tell 'ya. (My rent just increased, beginning in July, by a LARGE dollar amount. Welcome to "market value". Ugh.)

I can promise no great prose or insight regarding this journey. I make no claims on being a probing, thought provoking, uncanny observationist. Read if you please. Ignore if it suits you.

Stay tuned....

I hope I'm not one of those old, white girls dancing on the dance floor..

2008-03-28T01:18:00.000-07:00

I just got back from going dancing. Yes, DANCING. At a club. In public. It's a club that's been in Seattle, on Capitol Hill for ever. You know... for EVER. Neighbors. If you're from this neck of the woods, if you have/had been around for a while, you've probably heard of this place. I haven't been there in 9 years. I'm not kidding. I have a picture from that night. My friends, Jesse and Erin... the summer of '99. Erin is holding a butterfly shaped (and decorated) balloon over her chest because she lost her shirt. Honest to goodness. She's wearing a sports bra, but she has no shirt. It was very hot and crowded in there that night. The picture isn't very good, taken at night and w/out the fancy dancy digital settings of today's cameras. Still, I love that picture. It so perfectly captures a very clear memory of that entire night.

I was enticed out tonight by a friend who apparently goes there a lot on Thursdays. Thursdays are, just like they were way back then, '80's Night. That means, as you may or may not know, Depeche Mode, The Cure, New Order, The Go Gos, Duran Duran, Flock of Seagulls, Aztec Camera, Modern English, Billy Idol, Dead or Alive, Yaz, The Communards--your basic pop 40 of the '80's modern rock and lots of those one hit wonders. Well, I had fun and EVERY song that came on, including the Madonna that I didn't like and the not my idea of the 80's Dee-Lite song was accompanied by a completely fun, specific memory--even when it was about the boy who didn't like me when I liked him (story of my adolescence). Those of you who have read my previous entries don't need to be told how much I love to associate memories with songs.

I had a great time, despite taking a while to warm up to the idea of dancing in public when it has been sooooooooo long. I thank my pal, Kim, for nagging me to join her and her friends, tonight.

What really makes me chuckle about this whole '80's Night thing, is just how LONG it's been going on. When I was in undergrad my friend, K., and I would go to Anderson's 5th Estate in Tempe, AZ, for their '80's Night. 15 years later and it's the same. Same music. Same crowd, essentially--including the younger set who just think it's so fun to dance to those retro tunes. Granted, for much of the 1980's new wave, I was but a little kid. But I knew it existed and I loved it even then...Ahhhh... when we requested Billy Idol at the 7th grade dance and the DJ said "You guys are as cool as the High Schoolers", well, we were pretty excited. Ride your pony...

yum

2008-02-20T10:56:00.001-08:00

We stood in line for a minimum of an hour and a half for a hot dog. Hot damn, it was good!!! By the time we sat down with our treasure, we were STARVING and the line was as long as when we started. It just never ends... hot dogs rule.

OMG

2008-02-13T22:45:00.000-08:00

I can't believe my luck. It's like there was something watching over us, guiding us to the South Coast Plaza in Costa Mesa, CA. Something... or Someone...

You know how when you live some place that doesn't get good television reception without a cable subscription? And you know how even when you have those funny, outdated rabbit ears and you try and try to get Masterpiece Theatre, or Mystery! to come in clearly, or at the very least with a mostly watchable picture and you can't? But lo and behold do you know what station will always come in crystal clear, no matter what? Oh, yeah. You know which one I'm talking about... can we just say "hallelujah!"?

Please share with me in this moment of divine grace as I present...

That's right my loyal readers... I saw the actual, REAL life Trinity Broadcasting Network's Home... complete with...

PEARLY GATES!!!!!

I took these photos from the dentist's office next door. And next to that little office building? A housing enclave called "Lifestyles". Shawn and I wondered if they were choosing to live next to such a holy and blessed compound, or if they woke up every morning saying "G-dammit! When is this behemoth of a tax shelter going to get torched for the insurance money, already?"

Praise the lord.

Well, At Least I Can See The Sun

2008-02-10T11:53:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting at a Starbucks in the airport in Phoenix. Sky Harbor. I'm supposed to be thinking of a discussion question to present to my class for the week's pontifications. I am having a hard time coming up with one. Sort of true. I have the idea of what I want, I just can't seem to articulate it in a competent manner. Oh. And the sun is distracting. It's warm. I'm also grumpy about my food choices for a three hour lay-over. Fried, soggy sandwiches, greasy "cheap"-only compared to the not cheap-, fried, frozen sugar, non-frozen sugar, or fried. I opted for the soggy sandwich, threw away the bread and ate the damp meat and cheese. yum. May I just say that this airport is lame? At least at Sea-tac there is a wide choice of overpriced halfway decent food. (ewwww... somebody is grouchy!) Anyway, here I am. At least it's not dark and rainy and cold.

I wonder if I'll randomly see someone that I know here? In a city of a gazillion people, plus snowbirds, I doubt that. Besides, who's to say I'd recognize someone from my past in Phx. if I did? It's been a loooooooooooong time. Joanna's the only person I've seen who still lives here, and as far as I know, she has to teach tomorrow, so I doubt she's headed out via el aeroplane.

Pretty much looks the same out there, only more developed.

I don't know why I get this nervous sense of... I don't know... it's not dread, not really... more like discomfort when I come here. Not that I come here all that often, the last time must have been five years ago. And those were actual visits. This is sitting in an airport for a few hours. But I do. Even if I have a pleasant time. Something about this state just makes me nervous and I can't quite put my finger on it. Silly, I'm sure.

Adventures on Cap. Hill

2008-02-05T00:28:00.000-08:00

This was the scene in front of my building upon my return home from the Editors show (with Louis XIV and Hot Hot Heat). I was walking home from the bus stop on B'way and I heard lots of siren action, had the thought "gee, hope my building's not on fire" and then saw all these red flashing lights as I approached my street. There were actually more firetrucks than the those in this picture, an aid car--or two-- a fire chief's car along with a couple of police cars. I'm not really a gawker when it comes to things like this, but my goodness! Four firetrucks are sitting on the street you live on and it's kind of wild. Luckily, it seems that there wasn't any visible damage or injuries. No aid cars left with people. There definitely was a smell of something burning, maybe a kitchen fire? Anyway, seems all were safe and after about 20 minutes the flashing lights and the idling engines were gone, leaving the 'hood in peaceful midnight silence once again.

The show, by the way, was excellent. The bands were full of fantastic energy and charisma; really good performers all around, which isn't always the case. All three bands had an obvious love for what they were doing and the mutual energy between musicians and audience was palpable. If anyone who reads this blog has an opportunity to see them, especially the Editors or Hot Hot Heat, I say GO!

An Open Love Letter To Ryan Adams and The Cardinals

2008-01-29T14:43:00.000-08:00

Dear Boys,

Wow and wow and wow. I saw your show at Seattle's Paramount theatre, last Saturday and I was not prepared for what ensued. I think I expected a similar show to the one in July, with all of you sitting in a semi-circle on the stage, handsomely outfitted in dark suits and cowboy boots. A melodic, poingent show that only served to emphasize the underlying--and darn right obvious-- sadness in so many of your songs. A quality that I love, and keeps me coming back for more. Well, the sorrow was there on January 26, but it ROCKED. And you were charming and funny and silly and, Ryan, your modesty in always referring to "we Cardinals" was not lost on me. I'm excited for your new album, too. When do we get to hear it? Neal's song was such a teaser...I want more! Thank you, boys, for never failing to reach the entire audience and playing for nearly THREE HOURS!!!! No one does that anymore. At least, not anyone I've seen in recent years. It went by so quickly...
Ryan, thank you for giving an ass-kicking performance, despite feeling under the weather. Even though I was in the first balcony, I'm thrilled that the show is immortalized in your movie. So you may not have been able to see us all up there, I know that you know that we committed to our zombies. Thank you, too, for having the inexplicable talent and heart to share such sorrow. It is a rare gift to be able to write a song that so viscerally penetrates--you write so many. I can listen to your songs over and over for hours and hours, . My heart lies bleeding on the floor and I can't get enough. I don't want to pick it up--I don't mean that in a wallowing, self-pity kind of way. Oh, and thank you for singing "Come Pick Me Up"!

Yours Truly,

Linnet

Lynksys = Bad/DLink = Good

2008-01-23T18:12:00.000-08:00

As a Mac user, I often come across programs and websites that aren't very apple friendly. With Firefox as a web browser, thankfully, most of that frustration can be circumvented. HOWEVER, when trying to set up a wireless router... well, let me just tell you that Lynksys is the devil and I think that no one should buy stock in that company, if there is stock to be bought. Oh, sure, you can go to their website and try to figure out the mumbo jumbo tech speak that tells you how to manually set up the irritating machine; but if you are like me and really, REALLY need someone to hold your hand when it comes to this kind of thing, then the website is no help. The "technical" support is very sorry, ma'am, but unable to assist you with this problem. Please refer to our "help" pages. Help my eye.

All is well at l'bird's wireless nest, now that I've found DLink. The nice young man walked me through the entire set up process and now I'm free! I'm free! No longer saddled to the confines of my little desk. Sitting comfortably on the couch while I await my dinner date, Erin. (Noodles, anyone? I'm starving.) She can call up to my apartment without fear of a busy signal because I don't have dial up anymore!!! Wow. School rocks.

O. Except the "I have no idea what I'm doing I must be insane" feeling that I've had since yesterday. School does rock. Librarians are the best.

These Are the People in My Neighborhood

2008-01-09T16:33:00.001-08:00

Draw your own conclusions from this... I'm only sorry that I didn't have a camera at my disposal when the window sill also displayed music box innards looking somewhat like a little bomb, tick tick ticking away our certain demise... There's another sign on the other side of the spiral tree (added to the lineup sometime in the fall) that just reads "Time Is Running Out". I walk by this everyday, just about, and have enjoyed watching its evolution. The Mary was a constant, as were the two signs. But the offerings--or examples of man's greed and destruction, as it were--come and go.

Is that fools' gold in the box? Why, I believe it is!

The curtains are always drawn, sometimes a warm yellow light peeps through the crack in the curtains behind the blinds. Who is this person? A true religious zealot or just a guy/gal with an apocalyptic sense of humor? His/her life is o so mysterioso.

wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!

2007-12-29T19:04:00.000-08:00

The Wii is fun.

It's not that I want one for myself, but knowing someone who owns one is good. Someone who lives a lot closer to me and wouldn't mind me coming over to play from time to time would be even better. Just look at the grin on that girl's face. Doesn't she look like she's having fun?

Wouldn't trade in my xbox for one, though.

Another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody...not in Seattle, anyway. Shawn's back in the land of sun and I am back to my solo routine. Very sleepy tonight, however, and will probably hit the hay a little earlier than usual. Just sitting at Top Pot--freezing in here--and taking advantage of the wireless for a quick moment before heading back home to read my silly mystery novel or watch a movie. You know, what with school starting in a few weeks, I figure I should get in as much gluttonous reading and movie viewing as I can. Who knows when and if I'll have time to do that again for the next semester. (Ooooooo...how thrilling! I'm back in semesterville! Where time is based on the academic calendar and "next year" starts in the fall!)

Oh, blah, blah, blah. Apparently, I haven't much of interest to write. So, go forth and play a Wii, if you can. I recommend a warm up of your playing arm--the wrist, elbow, EVERYTHING--first as I heard a number of folks complain of aches and pains after playing. Not a substitute for actual exercise, I don't think...

Another One Bites the Dust

2007-12-19T16:02:00.000-08:00

Bummer....

And even if it hasn't been officially confirmed that condos are on the way, you can bet your sweet music lovin' self that they are. I actually read some people's comments on the closure that said it's the fault of the smoking ban. Ummmm...so, you'll only see live music if you can smoke? Well, then you must really love to see live music. Sheesh.

Depressed Mods on Memory Lane

2007-12-05T16:02:00.000-08:00

I've only had two--well, technically three, keep reading-- things stolen from me (not counting personal items gone "missing" from my bedroom...) which is pretty good, I'd say. Both instances were completely my fault due to momentary lapses in brain activity: A bicycle when I was at ASU and an even more prized possession back in the good ole' days of Jr. High. Please give a warm round of thanks to John Richards for bringing it all back this morning, as I lay in bed, not wanting to get up and knowing that I didn't even have to! (Day off for Linnet with no scheduled engagements...ahhh, sweet life.) It went something like this: Music, music, music...nice to listen to the music...hey, that sounds like Depeche Mode...it is. It's from that album I had in 8th grade that was kiped with my walkman from my backpack...
Sudden clear memory of taking the cellophane wrapping off of the tape after I purchased it. Not where I bought it, or what the day was like--most likely sunny, this was Phoenix, after all--not even what it was like to listen to the very first time I put it into a tape deck. No. Taking that thin, clear, crackling wrapper off. A whiff of plastic smell, particular to that synthetic material. The purchase of this tape was a big deal. I rarely bought music, so I must have had birthday money burning a hole in my pocket. Any other DM albums I owned had been copied for me by friends back in Salt Lake. I wouldn't discover the wonders of used records and tapes until the following year, thanks to a boyfriend and Zia Records.
This, Music for the Masses, was constantly in my walkman. (I use the word generically, I doubt I actually had the Sony version). I dared to bring it to school in my backpack--not listen to it during class, or anything, I wasn't a complete fool. I Just liked knowing I could put on my headphones while I waited for my mom to pick me up after school, listen to those heavy synthesizers and that deep, mellow voice. The feeling that I was in on something exclusive. That I was my own brand of cool, even if it didn't mesh with the rest of Palo Verde Jr. High. Listening to music that, with a couple of exceptions, none of my other jr. high pals liked was my version of surpassing the Joneses. They had better clothes, better hair, probably even had lots of tapes to listen to in their walkmans. But I had Depeche Mode. Until I set my backpack, complete with walkman and DM tape inside, beneath a bench and I left it there. Just for a minute! I swear!!
Funny, I don't have any recollection of why I set it down unattended. Was I still so naive to think that no one would take someone else's stuff from a school? We're all such good mannered kids? Why leave it under the bench, what was so immediately important? My attention called away to do...what? Giggle with some girlfriends? Say goodbye to my crush of the moment? Drink from the water fountain? When I returned to my seat, the pack was still there but unzipped. Walkman and tape gone. The tape case, however, was still inside. I remember thinking "Why couldn't they at least have left the tape? They probably don't even like Depeche Mode!" I'll bet I'd barely had it a month when that happened.

I have a sudden urge to repurchase this album.

Someone Else's Camera

2007-11-29T18:18:00.000-08:00

I went to Eastern Washington for Thanksgiving, and someone had a camera. Someone who takes good photos and has a website. Click here to see the photos for yourself, in case you ever wanted to know what I'm talking about when I say "the farm". The guy in the black t-shirt w/ the white star is Karl, the chef. After eating amazing food for 5 days, it was a little disappointing to come home to an empty refrigerator, save for a package of Trader Joe's frozen tortellini. No sauce.

P.S. to the family: thanks for all the well wishes regarding the audition. I guess I should have mentioned that I was not cast. Oh, well....it was nice to be asked.

Why It's Dangerous to Listen to TAL Podcasts On the Bus

2007-11-15T16:03:00.000-08:00

You may think I'm being over dramatic, or just too worried about what the outside public world thinks of me as I walk down the street and/or sit on the bus, but I have to tell you, listening to This American Life podcasts while doing one, the other or both of these activities can be an embarrassing, unwanted way of calling attention to yourself. Exponentially worse if there is anything on the episode written and read by David Sedaris and. Do I have to tell you how much of a work out I get clenching my stomach muscles so that I don't erupt into belly laughter of the deepest, sincerest variety? And if you don't know what I'm talking about, then I encourage you to visit this website and find out for yourself! In a 55 minute program, I can ride the roller coaster down the slope of out loud laughter and the slow climb up the track of openly weeping. At home, that's fine. The tears can flow and my mascara stained cheeks scare no one but me. The bus--especially a full one where you are forced to sit next to someone-- isn't exactly the most convenient venue for being ambushed by some writer's ability to pull at my insides, squeeze them until it smarts and make my eyes water because, goshdarnit!, i get what s/he is saying! How did s/he know that I'd felt that way, too? And the laughing--well, there are enough people spontaneously bursting into laughter on the buses who aren't listening to anything that anyone else would be able to hear, if you catch my drift.

Ah, but then don't listen to the podcasts when you're walking or taking the bus. Easy for you to say. A long bus ride out to Northgate is the perfect opportunity to hear an episode, makes the trip more enjoyable. They're called PODcasts for a reason, yes? To be listened to on the iPOD? Assuming that's your mode of mp3 delivery. I try listening at home, but I get distracted by things. The crossword puzzle. The dusting (ha! right. As if I actually have done that in months! Ahhh...I kill myself....)

Check out the episode called "In Dog We Trust" to see what I'm talking about...it's probably not available as a podcast anymore, but you can listen for free on TAL's website. (I think you can just put the title in the search function and find it that way....) Go forth and listen to some radio!

10pm-ish naps are not good for going to bed, later...

2007-10-11T02:20:00.000-07:00

First of all, I have the sweetest baby (not so much a baby now) sister in the world.

Secondly, I am wide awake and have another day of work in a marathon schedule so I really should be in bed. However, I wound up taking a nap, late tonight, and was then too wide awake and wired to go to bed, so I decided to take my little book and head to my favorite little neighborhood bar to drink a little sparkling water. Just to read and observe the people and chat with my pal, the bartender, in between drink making. (He was making drinks. I was reading. Observing. Chatting.) It's nice to have this right around the corner watering hole, even though I don't really use it for the purpose for which it exists. I do, in a social context. Just being around other people is nice, especially since Shawn moved to Southern Cal. I find myself really craving something other than sitting in my apartment, alone, night after night. Sun Liquor is a cooling salve once a week, or so. Tonight I got to talk about Radiohead and their new album (freshly downloaded today) how much I LOVED the essay I read while sitting at the bar and commiserate with some other ladies about one guy who is a total jerk and I've watched/listened to as he tried to pick up girls, on more than one occasion. He uses the same lines EVERY time. It is kind of comical. Kind of. At least once you've given him the clear brush off, he leaves you alone.

But that essay...Joe Pernice writing about The Smiths' Meat is Murder, only it wasn't really about the album. It was about the experiences surrounding his discoveries of that band, and that record. It made me giddy. (That's how I felt when I first heard The Smiths. Omigosh! My mom said the same thing about their morbid, depressing sound!!) Only, he heard them when they were still a band and I only stumbled upon them after they were done and Morrissey was already recording his first solo album. But, gosh, I got that feeling back. I love writing that can take you to that place--that first kiss, first crush, heartbreak, first Smiths' song. I told Will that if I were a writer, I would want to write like that. It can happen in fiction, and it seems like the personal essay--the well written one--can have a true knack for succinctly distilling a moment that you, as the reader gets to say, "that happened to me, too!". Perhaps because I know that it's a retelling of a personal experience rather than the added element, in fiction, that even if it comes from an actual circumstance, ultimately it is part of a made up story. And I heart fiction. Truly. But a great personal essay...well, that just makes me happy.

Cross Your Fingers

2007-10-09T15:15:00.001-07:00

Last week I had my first, since moving to Seattle, professional theatre company audition. No, really. The first one. I thought, "Wow! I'm so flattered to be asked that I don't even care if I get a call back. I just don't want to embarrass my friend who got them to call me in in the first place." Then, I read the script. And the sides. And I had the audition. And I said, "Holy crap, batman! I WANT to be in this show and I WANT to get called back." Today, I went to the call back.

I WANT this part. I have not doubt that I could do this role, and give to it fully and honestly.

It's out of my hands, I realize. It's down to looks, I imagine, type, chemistry...stuff like that. Hopefully not down to whom they've worked with before because, well, in that case, I'm a no go. I've never worked with any of them before though I know the two other women called back have. What are ya gonna do?

Of course, the true irony of this is that it should happen just as I've decided to go to graduate school and make a commitment to debt and study. Though...as I see the rehearsal/performance schedule, I believe I'd be able to swing it. Financially, I don't know and I'm going to choose not to worry about it since I haven't even been offered the part, yet, so all of this may be moot. Let us all cross our fingers, however, that Linnet is cast and DOES get to worry about it all!!!!!!

Regardless of what happens, I'm still completely thrilled that I had the opportunity to read for this company and perhaps it will lead to more invites and an eventual role.

Words, Words, Words

2007-07-18T23:04:00.000-07:00

Against my better judgment, I actually cleaned (sort of) my apartment, today. I've been putting it off and putting it off because 1) I don't like to do it, especially since it usually has to occur on one or two of my two days off. Quelle drag. And 2) It just gets dusty again, and the stacks of library books and the New Yorkers and Vanity Fairs continue to lay one on top of the other in precarious towers. Heck, I even did laundry. A thorough job, in my own way, was done. I even cleaned out my desk and the piles of paper and what not piled up underneath and beside it. I was on fire, I tell you. In putting away letters and notes from family and friends that had been lovingly shoved into the desk, I got caught up in reading old correspondence. That, my friends, is the highway to the danger zone. Very difficult to come back from there. I could read old letters for hours, lose complete track of time and look up to find it is Friday, and time for me to go to work. What happened to Thursday?

I used to work in a cubicle, and that is where I truly discovered the wonders of e-mail. I knew it existed, but I hardly used it and felt sure it would be the downfall of human communication (I think the jury is still out on that one). Well, at my little cubicle job, I suddenly got the whole notion of sluffing off at work while appearing to be o-so-very-busy. I wrote a lot of e-mails and received a lot, too. I printed most, if not all, of these electronic communiques out. I have a large binder with all of those and, so I see today, a box of them to boot. I don't really print my e-mails anymore. I find that I rarely write lengthy ones or have lengthy ones written to me. Wonder what happened? I also think that I have convinced myself that I don't need to print them. They will always be there for me to read whenever I want to sit for some hours and meander through my past thoughts and those of my friends on my computer. Perhaps I am naive.

All that ink. All that paper.

Come to think of it, printing them at the cubicle farm was a hell of a lot easier since it wasn't my ink or my paper. Maybe that's when I stopped? When the output was costing me, personally. Ahhhhhh ha.

For Gina

2007-07-12T20:41:00.000-07:00

I received a phone message from my sister, Gina. She left it yesterday and I only listened to it today. (Sorry, Gina. I just wasn't checking my phone...). Well, Gina has discovered this here blog (the first family member to do so...how, I wonder?) and mentioned that I have given some misinformation in a previous post. Therefore, I shall make amends by correcting this earlier misrepresentation of my dear sister. Gina, this one's for you.

In the old post, I said that she didn't like a certain genre of music. Well, though she did not, in fact, like Tears for Fears, she did like some U2, Oingo Boingo--this I can attest to, I remember she had the 12'' of "Weird Science"--and even the Thompson Twins. (Specific bands listed on her phone message.) And now, come to think of it, she also had Men at Work's Cargo way back when we lived in Idlyhoo. But she will have to admit, to me and the world that she looooooves Bon Jovi more than any of the aforementioned bands. Right, Miss Gina Lynn?

So, I would like to present a list of songs and/or bands that remind me, specifically, of my oldest sis!

Bon Jovi. (duh! She hearts Bon Jovi.) Especially the entire Slippery When Wet album, which we had to listen to umpteen MILLION times while driving to and from the dance studio. Really loudly, too.

Gina works the diner all day/
Working for her man, she brings home her pay/
For love - for love

"Sister Christian", by Night Ranger.

"We're Not Gonna Take It", Twisted Sister.

Guns 'N Roses--I think she had a crush on Slash, which I couldn't understand. I mean, how could you tell what he looked like?

Poison--I don't even know what to say about this. I still find it difficult to believe.

Brian Adams--Her phone ring--not a ring at all-- is "Summer of '69"and I laughed with nostalgic glee the first time I called her and heard it play.

Van Halen--the David Lee Roth version. Was it Eddie that she crushed on? She seemed to have a thing for guitar players. Richie Sambora might have been one of those rockers she liked, too....Gina? Can you help me out here?

Come to think of it, I recall her liking David Lee Roth's solo efforts, as well.

Def Leppard, Ratt (I might be making this one up.), Quiet Riot...that's all off of the top of my head. But you can see why I might have jumped to the conclusion that my little underground (at the time) music listening wouldn't have been much to her liking. I hope I have set the record (ha ha ha...record. get it? like those old round, flat discs with grooves on them people used to play?) straight regarding Gina and her eclectic music likes. And really, I have her to thank for introducing me to the music that made such an informative impression on my life, and continues to do so. Thanks, Gina!

Fire Jump Street With Me

2007-07-11T19:22:00.000-07:00

In a constant effort to avoid doing the "things" I'm supposed to be doing (self-imposition), I have gone back to some of my favorite television shows from way back when. Back in the day, as some folks like to say. Let us start with that crazy David Lynch classic. It was by total accident that I even saw the pilot episode when it first aired. I was babysitting and the little rug rat had gone to bed. Sophomore year of high school and all my pals were watching that insipid teen soap opera. Poor things. I was hooked from the start. Called my then boyfriend and said you MUST watch this show. (We'd seen Blue Velvet, so we felt well-versed in Lynchism.) I don't know if he did, but I was sure thankful that I was babysitting and had control of a television. I'm sure I would have missed it if I'd been at home. The rest of the series was watched on a little black and white television (I don't even know where I got it) in my bedroom with crappy reception. It's been astonishing to actually see the show in color. On to season two, which I only saw a few episodes of due to my growing irritation with Lynch's wacky symbolism and the whole "Who killed Laura Palmer" mystery. I really could have cared less who did it by the time the show ended. Happy to report that I am anxious to borrow season two and watch the rest of the story unfold. And who couldn't love Kyle M. as Agent Cooper? I do believe it's my favorite role of his, to date. Though, I am as afraid to see the movie as I was when it came out...

The second trip meanders the path down the 7th grade memory lane and this rush home after school so as not to miss a single episode series. I was afraid this one would be VERY bad. Isn't it great to aim low, sometimes? And, with such expectations I can safely say that I don't find the show terrible. I always knew Depp would be a star...sigh... Wary that it would be a painful reminiscence, I only netflixed the first disc of season one. I'm ready for more. I think I stopped watching once I was in high school, so I guess I only made it through the first two seasons.

Side note. It is odd to use Netflix as a verb. Just like Google. Or Xerox. Proper nouns into verbs. Weird, yet part of the ever changing language lexicon.

Eeny Meany Miney Moe

2007-06-30T21:56:00.000-07:00

How do you choose which grad school to go to? Besides the obvious enticements of which one will give me more money? A or B? Both have advantages and both are so 100% on line that the coolness, or lack there of, of the city just doesn't matter. I'll be sitting in Seattle, with my UWM or Drexel Dragon sweatshirt on, staring at my computer or a book and being studious. What I really love, though, is that I have choice. Even if I don't know what to do with it.

Panther or Dragon.... both very good mascots.

A Perfect Day For A...

2007-06-27T21:33:00.000-07:00

...Ballgame!!! I was given two tickets to the third game of the Mariners v. Red Sox series. 5th row back along the left field foul line. It was sunny, 70-ish degrees, cool breeze blowing...PERFECT day game weather! The Mariners swept the series. I wish I could say I was excited about their win, but, as I have discussed with other baseball fan friends in Seattle, it's really difficult to become a fan. This is the first baseball town I've ever lived in, and I imagined that I would care about the Mariners and watch the games on t.v., or listen on the radio. Really keep up to date on the goings on. It's been 9 years since I moved here, and I've yet to really care. I love the ballpark. I love to watch baseball. I don't love to watch the Mariners. (Except maybe Ichirio. He is so FAST and graceful and refined in his playing.) I could watch just about every game on television, but I have to fiddle too much with the rabbit ears so I don't bother. That about sums up the kind of fan I am. I mean, I'd sure be happy if they did really well. And unless they're playing a team that I like more (NYY, Boston, the Angels...probably a couple more if I really give it some thought...and I already know that a "true" Yankee fan hates Boston and vice versa. I have been a fan of the Yanks since I was a wee little tyke and Reggie Jackson played for them. I have not, however, harbored resentment towards Boston. So unless they're playing each other, I am perfectly happy for Boston to win. I'm an old fashioned baseball girl when it comes to teams. I like the old teams. I like pinstriped uniforms. Go Tigers! Sue me.), than I definitely will root root root for the home team. It's kind of sad. I have never gotten the feeling that the owners care much about the team, either. They're not concerned with winning. They're concerned with money. So, they trade the best players and that's that.
Though, after today, I did feel a little more inspired to make an effort. Especially after hearing from the friend that I took along with me how lucky Seattle is to have such cheap game tickets. $10 to sit in the bleachers. And these games rarely sell out. I was surprised that this game wasn't full. I got to thinkin' that maybe I'd take in a few more day games. I have Wednesdays off, after all, and summer in Seattle is a dream, for the most part. Baseball. Sunshine. Hot dogs. How great is that?!
I miss the world series on NBC. I miss Bob Costas.

All I Wanted Was a Movie...

2007-06-22T21:49:00.001-07:00

Where's my damn movie, Netflix?!!!

The movie I sent back seems to have gotten lost in the mail, as they say they haven't received it, yet. Well, I distinctly remember sending it back on Tuesday and it is now Friday. Very suspect. Come to think of it, our regular mailman was not on his route, Tuesday. We had a sub... Highly suspect. On their website it says that if the movie has not been received 6 days after mailing it to them, then I can file a "movie was returned and Netflix hasn't received it" complaint. But I want the other movie that was supposed to come after it NOW, dammit! I don't even know anything about it except that it was recommended to me for the costumes and because it looks likes a good ole sexy, though not necessarily great, entertaining film with pretty people being all Italian and alluring in their Venetian dress, making goo-goo eyes at each other behind fans. Sometimes a girl just needs a little innocent costume drama sexual tension plot. Besides he's in it and I have always been a fan. Speaking of frivolous sexy plots, I think I should start renting the Henry VIII series that aired this year... absolute cotton candy it's supposed to be. Yum.

Home Sweet Home

2007-06-21T19:15:00.001-07:00

It's the first day of summer, and to Seattle's credit, the sun shines. The whole day has been beautifully blue, warm with a cool--not too cool--breeze. Oh, yeah, I think...this is why I love it here. Well, there are other reasons, but days like this are in the top three. In honor of the event, I sit outside at Top Pot, eat a donut and drink a decaf (yawn) iced latte...sigh...a good evening treat to be sure. Many years in a row, Shawn and I would find some place cozy to sit and watch the sun as it set far, far in the west. Sometimes we went to Discovery Park, or Golden Gardens. Even staying here, on the Hill. From my perch on Capitol Hill it looks to set behind Queen Anne, which is darn near north. I'd say it's a northerly sunset. By winter it will be dropping down near Magnolia, very westerly.
VERY early this morning, suffering from a bout of insomnia, I caught a bit of the national weather report. 112 degrees in Phoenix. Ugh. Do not miss that. Haven't missed it since the day I left. Never even missed it when I was living there and I'd be on vacation, blessedly, somewhere else.
Funny to think about the place that one considers home. I have two places, actually. One is "home" in the sense of where I grew up. Except that I only lived there 10 years and no one in my family actually lives in that spot. Twin Falls, 30 minutes north-ish of where our home was, isn't technically my childhood home. Yet, it is so familiar, despite all the changes occurring at an ever increasing rate, that my sentimental attachment to it makes it home. Going home for Christmas? Nah... I like to go back home in the summer or the fall. Arizona is unquestionably not home. Yes, I lived another large portion of my life there; 11 highly formative years, and I couldn't wait to get O-U-T, OUT! Going on 10 years in Seattle (gee, I'm at equal parts in these places...) and I can truly say that almost from the start, this was my home. Is my home. I feel very home-like here. I'm a happy homebody in this town. Home, home on the range. How lucky is that? I could have moved here and been sorely disappointed. Hated it. Gotten bored with it. I'm not bored. Are you bored? People get bored with Seattle. Several of my friends have left this boring town, or want to leave this hum drum burgh... O. like my boyfriend. : ( But I really like it. Really.

She's Not My Type

2007-06-10T18:38:00.000-07:00

My friend, Adam, is funny. He left a comment for my previous post which has brought a chuckle to my throat, escaping out through my mouth and ending with a smile on my lips. Thanks, Adam. And in response to his response I say, "She's not my type", and here is why: She was kinda mean. She even said she was mean, which came out more so on the second day than on the first. Not mean like, "Wow. She's down right cruel." But she had an edge. I'd forgotten to mention that, previously. Ahhhh... but isn't that classic? In 5th grade, Tay Roberts decided that she didn't like me and was horribly cruel to me in front of anyone who was around--and we had the same friends. She was the queen bee in my 5th grade circle of friends and, though no one else was out and out mean to me, no one stuck up for me, either. It didn't help that my family had no money, wore used clothing and were Bountiful, Utah's version of hay seeds. Her daily doses of "Where do shop, at Kmart?" insults--because at the time, there was no greater insult than being accused of owning anything from the big, blue "K"--did not, however, stop me from including her in the big slumber party/pizza eating/toilet papering extravaganza I hosted in the late spring. And she came. I have a picture to prove it. She was still mean to me and I still wanted her to like me. She never really did. Though my fellow pledge room buddy wasn't mean like Tay, I can see how she had the potential to behave in such a way in a grade school environment. So, no, Adam. She is not crushable. Maybe another day I'll tell you about my friend, K., whose approval I craved, was good friends with AND for whom I had a big, whoppin' crush...

Dorkdome Strikes Again

2007-06-07T17:24:00.000-07:00

Clever folks impress me. Sometimes they even cause me to feel small and shy in their presence. It's not their fault; I recognize that it's my own insecurities bubbling up, making my laugh a little more emphatic, my eyes darting to meet Mr./Ms. Clever's, more than necessary to check in during the conversation. Especially in a group. Did he/she like what I said? Was that other person's comment as silly/smart as I thought it was? All very middle school, I know. What can I say? I doubt my own cleverness and ability to be liked in a new group setting. Oh, Linnet! You three or four, shake your heads with a chuckle, What are you talking about? You get along so easily with others. Yes, with people I know. I've addressed this issue before and have apparently not resolved it, yet. Once I get more comfortable, however, I'm fine. I think I've honed in on the most obvious scenarios in which Insecure Linnet arrives on the scene in place of Confident Linnet: 1. at a party of strangers; 2. in a forced group situation where you are all sitting together in a room for a number of hours. Frankly, I prefer the latter. It's a bit easier for me to gain my comfort zone and relax. It's when someone clever gets put in the mix that I get a little gerghidlkn;alghaoi. (Yes. I said gerghidlkn;alghaoi. I don't know how to spell a gurgling, tense and throaty noise that best illustrates my inhibitions.)
Like today, for instance. (Ah ha! Now she comes to it.) And it had to be today, right? Otherwise why would I be writing about it? Well, there was this girl. And she and I were both on the same phone shift for the KEXP pledge drive for the last two days. I see her around the hill and downtown, quite a bit, as one does in a city like this. She has cool and unique tattoos. she dresses in an individually stylish way without being too much. She's cute. Oh, and now that I've sat in the same room with her for 8 hours, I know she's smart with original ideas and ways of expressing herself. And clever. And I felt like such a goober when I realized that I was laughing at her comments more than I would have, if I wasn't feeling like a dork. And that I caught myself actually thinking, Does she think I'm as big a dork as I think I am right now? I hope not. In all likelihood, I wasn't even a blip on her radar. I mean to say, once I left the room, at the end of our shift, I doubt she gave me a second thought. Not in a mean way. Just in a That was a productive 4 hours. We answered a lot of phones and everyone seemed nice way. Whereas I continue to think about her and her cleverness. Yesterday she showed us a 64 second animated short she made for a class. It was great. That's what really got me. Though, if I hadn't seen her again today, I don't know that I would have cared as much as I seemingly do now. I guess I was reminded of my initial impression of her, and we were fewer today than yesterday. Oh. I also sat across from her today. Yesterday, we were a livelier group and there were many conversations going on. Today, we were a bit quieter so perhaps she just shined a little more...what on earth did I want from her that caused this wacky doubting, fumbling version of me?
APPROVAL! That's what I wanted from her. Good god, I am in middle school.

Forgot to mention that, did I?

2007-05-30T19:33:00.000-07:00

My friend, and fellow Sight Nine company member, was driving me back to work this afternoon following a short rehearsal for Mrs. Klein. Just a simple read through. We're chatting about this and that, the MLIS program and how long will it take me? etc., etc., etc. "...and blah blah blah, now that Shawn's living in California...blah, blah, bla-" "WHAT?!" (that was Heather.) O. Didn't I tell you?

This is not the first time that changes of a sort of monumental proportion have occurred in my life and I have neglected to tell those that might be interested. I think it's because I'm lazy. I get tired of telling the same story over and over again. And, generally, I find it's not the good stories. My boyfriend has moved to California. My sister died. I'm getting a divorce. I mean, how many times does anyone really want to repeat the details of that particular kind of life changing news? At some point, I hope that enough people have been told so that they can start telling other people and save me the trouble.

Maybe whenever there has been a shift in our fortunes (be they good or bad), we should write up a little summary, including an FAQ, and print it out for distribution. Then, whenever someone asks the inevitable "What's new with you?" all you have to do is hand over the already prepared tale of joy/whoa. You might even add a "Feel free to distribute as you like" hint. It's like that Christmas Letter people write and David Sedaris makes great sport of in one of his books--I think it's Barrel Fever--only you don't have to wait until Christmas. And you don't have to mail it. Keep a few copies on your person whenever you're going to be out and about; especially if you're likely to run into folks you know.

Assignment

2007-05-28T18:38:00.000-07:00

My oldest sister, Gina, has asked me to write a little remembrance about my very first dance teacher, Willa Dean Nilesen. I was about five years old when I started taking dance class at Nielsen's school of Dance and the only reason I was there was because my sister, Holly, was taking class with her friend, Emily Youngman. With my mother, I sat--or tried to--and watched from the sidelines. Apparently, as Blumenthal legend has it, sitting was just too much for me and, standing near my mom, I would copy the dance steps that my sister was learning until they finally decided I should be taking the class, too. This isn't really a story about Willa Dean. In fact, I can't really recall a story about her, particularly. My memories tend towards events that involved her, but only as a figure at the front of the class. Or, sitting behind her desk as we practiced our dances. Her sadness when her daughter, Pam, died tragically in a senseless motorcycle accident. Doesn't seem right to talk about how she always seemed too old to have a teenage daughter, that she seemed more like a grandmother than anything else. Her hair cut, colored and set. Painted eyebrows and red-pink lipstick. My childish ideas of her weren't meant to be disrespectful or mean-spirited. I liked her a great deal, looked up to her. My own grandmother died around the same time that I'd started the dance classes, at least my memory is that it happened within the same year. And Willa Dean looked more like my grandmother than she did my mother. So it wasn't with malice that I thought her old; it was a youthful syllogism long before I knew what the word meant. Shocking 20 years later when during a visit with my mom, living once again in Southern Idaho, we run into her at a store and she's even older than she was the last time I'd seen her, in 1984. My goodness, I remember thinking, she was old when I was 7!
So, what story can I write for Gina, in celebration of 50 years of Nielsen's School of Dance? 50 years, really?! How excited we were when the Stargazers dance class got to have the matching, white and blue "v" striped leotards so that she could see better if someone wasn't doing the same dance step that everyone else was doing? The silver tinsel Christmas tree that was in the upper right corner of the studio, every year, with empty wrapped boxes stacked festively underneath it? How she hated ballet and how anyone who wanted to take it had to do so on the sly at another studio? I always thought that was so funny. Strange funny. When we moved to Utah, and I took my first ballet classes, I couldn't understand what all the fuss was about.
I see her so clearly, in her tan colored jazz shoes, black dance pants of that parachute-like material, rolled down at the waist, leotard and accessorized with a skinny belt. Demonstrating a dance step. I see her sitting behind that desk, counting and clapping on the down beat. I just can't come up with a single moment that translates to a story of guidance. Something that has stuck with me all these many years. The kind that you tell your own children--nieces and/or nephews in my case--when they're feeling blue. "Someone once told me..." it begins. I remember her presence. And her love for the dance studio and the students. The long and strenuous preparations for the annual dance recital held on the stage of CSI (College of Southern Idaho). Always a theme. Always a beautiful, lyrical solo for Pam. A family dance for all the Nielsen's. The supporting cast made up of the rest of the students. When Michael Jackson's Thriller was released, that was our theme. The older students recreating the graveyard zombie dance. Our own Footloose for another recital, as well as a Rainbow Connection the year the Muppet Movie came out. For that year's finale, sung by Kermit the Frog, we were a rainbow of dancers. Each class a different color. Was that the year, while waiting to rehearse in one of the college's classrooms, I toppled over in a heavy, metal desk that sliced my right hand middle finger requiring an emergency room visit and stitches, though not missing the recital? Dancing with my right arm bent, but upright the entire time? Maybe that was the Footloose year...

Hellooooooooo Debt!

2007-05-26T21:42:00.000-07:00

I did it. I got into grad school!!! My acceptance e-mail arrived last Wednesday, with the hard copy to follow in the mail. That I received today, and holding it in my hand, reading that first line "Congratulations on being accepted...", well, it felt real somehow. As though I was afraid that the e-mail wasn't going to count if they suddenly decided they'd made a mistake. But the paper. The printed word. Now, that is tactile and can't crash or magically disappear or get accidentally erased. The paper I can place on my refrigerator, using one magnet for each corner. Every time I walk by the 'fridge, or open it, or stand in my kitchen I can look at it. Peruse the positive affirmation that is acceptance.

I'm waiting to hear from U of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, too. They're about 1/3 less expensive than Drexel... though Drexel's program is highly rated. I don't know. Maybe I'm being greedy and only want to stroke my ego a little more. (Sing it with me, I got into grad school. I got into grad school...). Speaking of ego... a few people that I've mentioned my good news to have responded in such a way that implies that they don't think I got into a real school. That I'm doing some kind of correspondence course. Like the kind you see advertised late at night. "You too can have a career in the transistor radio field. Simply send for your free catalog and you'll be on the road to choosing a career int he exciting world of short wave radio repair. We'll even send you the tool kit!" No, I explain, this is a university. With a campus in Philadelphia. They have some degrees offered online. That's the only difference. I could there, too, but I don't want to live in Philly. "Ohhhh. Sure. Good for you." They don't look convinced. I want to convince them. I need them to be convinced. (I'm a little sensitive right now what with my my boyfriend moving two states away---one VERY long sate which may as well make it three states away--and though the first month wasn't so bad and I spent a lot of time this last month actually seeing him, these last few days I have missed him terribly. Enough to want to go across the street and buy several pints of Ben & Jerry's to eat for dinner. Thank goodness for sheer laziness.)

So, come January 2008, I will officially be enrolled in Drexel (or UW-M, we'll have to wait and see) and on the road to being a librarian. I can't wait to do my first show as a librarian so I can write in my bio "Linnet is excited to be working with the cast of insert play here. Last seen in insert another play here, she embraces the challenge of a completely opposite role for this current production. Linnet received a BA in theatre from Arizona State University, and has a Masters of Library and Information Science from Drexel University. You can see her in insert month several months in the future here when Sight Nine Theatre opens their production of third play here, please."

Bratz and Cats

2007-04-25T16:41:00.000-07:00

I'm not exactly sure how I got hooked into watching a show about girls who want to wear skimpy, sexy outfits and slither around poles as they sing covers of songs in de riguer pop girl vibrato, but I did just that last night. My old Tuesday night 9pm standby, Law & Order CI was a rerun, that had only aired a month ago. So, after returning home from yoga, and settling down with a bowl of pasta, I flipped until I saw the finale of a reality tv show whose purpose was the search for the next sexy addition to an all girl group. Oddly enough, the name of the band seemed so appropriate since the three finalists all reminded me of those weird toys-- popular with the tweens--called Bratz. Unusually large heads and teeny tiny bodies. (Is this our new ideal body, ladies? Almost makes me nostalgic for Barbie...) Only, these three girls weren't called Bratz, though they were trying out to be dolls. Pussycat Dolls, to be precise.
I didn't know it was a real group. I can honestly say that I never need to see anything like that again. I'm not clear if this is truly an expression of feminism: embracing one's sexuality while thrusting, gyrating, grinding and spanking one's own ass as we celebrate women's ability to be sexy and liberated, meanwhile singing such empowering lyrics as "Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me?" This is what teenage girls aspire to? Or, are we being hoodwinked into believing that this is the new feminism, and if we're not on board to overtly put our freedom of feminine sexiness on display, then we are some kind of staid, prudish old lady who just doesn't get it. If I look at women, young girls, who wear their thong underwear as outerwear, and think "ick", am I not really a feminist? Am I trouncing on someone else's experience and negating their freedom to express themselves? In my head. Naturally, I wouldn't actually say something to one of these women/girls. In my head I pass judgment, or form an opinion. In my head I say "This is where what we're raising? Girls who wear t-shirts that say 'I slept with your boyfriend' in girlie pink and sparkles?"

I read an interview on Salon.com that discussed these issues, and I thought I'd check out the website that the author contributes to, and read some more about her views. Feminism for younger women. (I guess I fall into the older women category.) I'd like to be the sort of person who can look at a woman's choice of expression and confirm and support it. And yet, I have to be honest, I am not impressed with a lot of what I see in the magazines, television, etc. It doesn't look any different to me than it did when it wasn't cool to dress like hookers (Women who would probably rather be doing something else besides selling their bodies--I'm making an assumption here.) I'd almost rather be called a prude. Don't get the wrong idea--that I think being sexy is "bad" or anti female power. Not at all. I do believe that there are healthy ways to be sexy and that there are ways that women are being duped into thinking that they're the ones in power. Do these girls have power? And if so, at what price?

Break Out the Summer Clothes!

2007-04-19T16:54:00.000-07:00

Guess who's going out to southern California for a little holiday? That's right, c'est moi. Headed down south for a visit with my lovely in only a week and a half. So looking forward to it. I get to see Shawn. I get to see sunshine. I get to feel warm air. I get to breathe smoggy breezes, but I get to come back for some fresh air, so I think I can handle it.

Other than that, well, not much going on chez Linnet. I have tried not to put my pajamas on at 7pm on the weekends. I know they're not my weekends, seeing as how I work on those days, but they are the traditional weekend days/nights nonetheless and I have never gotten over the training my brain received regarding Fridays and Saturdays. Even though all I want to do after work is go home and relax, there is a nagging feeling that I'm supposed to be doing something. Going somewhere. (This was no different when Shawn was here, either, it was just easier to ignore.) Last weekend, I gave myself the task of going to the grocery store at 8pm, just so I could prolong the p.j.'s donning. I know, it's all in my head. Self-imposed musts that matter to no one but myself. Besides, have I mentioned that it's expensive to go out? I just spent $60 on groceries --for one person!--and am taking 3 days off of work pretty shortly. Do i really need to go out just to make myself feel less like a recluse? I'm in the market for the free entertainment. Easy enough to find during the day... The Frye Art Museum is free--love it--though not open late on weekend nights. SAM (rather SAAM, for now) has late night Thursdays. Why not a late night Friday museum? Elliott Bay Books is always good for author readings, though I confess to knowing nothing about the writers scheduled for this weekend.

Whine, whine, whine. Maybe I should change the name of this blog to Whiner, or Whine Fest. My apologies to all 3-4 of you. No more whining. Honestly, being solo hasn't been that bad. Just gets a little lonely sometimes and so I sit on my couch, in my pajamas, with a blanket and pillows, at 7 o'clock in the evening feeling a little unenthused (apparantly, unenthused is not a word. And yet, it sounds so right...) about my entertainment choices. Heck. I haven't even played my xbox since shawn left. Now, is that ridiculous, or what?

All Done

2007-04-11T13:52:00.000-07:00

Sent in the supplemental materials to the two schools that I have applied to, thus far, on Monday. Big day for me. Now I don't have to hem and haw and avoid eye contact when someone asks me how my applications are coming along. (On June 1, I'll send in to the third school.) What an uplifting experience. Here I am, missing Shawn, feeling little to no energy to do much of anything, and I can check that off of my list of things I've been, for no reason in particular, putting off. Made for a better answer to the "What's new with you" question that came up, several times, that same evening at my friend Marcus' birthday soiree. Had a chance to see lots of friends that I rarely see anymore, now that we don't all live in the same building. Well, we didn't all live in the same building, but enough of us did so that it sometimes felt as if we had the same address, what with all the comings and goings and drop ins. Anyway, it was more fun to announce that I'd applied for grad school AND that Shawn had moved to California, then just the moving to CA part.

Things To Do When You're Scared Of Silence

2007-04-07T22:37:00.000-07:00

1. Watch television
Lots of television. This is particularly useful when you don't have cable and you live in an area where the reception is for crap. You can spend hours flipping through the 7 channels, 3 of which actually come in, waiting for the Law & Order franchise reruns-very likely to occur on every night of the week and Saturdays! If you get tired of the 3 channels, simply adjust the rabbit ears for the next 20 minutes to get 3 different channels. Besides, you can always count on the God channel to come in crystal clear, no matter how the ears are positioned.

2. Play Solitaire while listening to iTunes on shuffle
I'll bet you didn't even remember that you'd downloaded that album! You can play guess the song title/artist/album/release date/band members, too. And, if you're like me and have lost that youthful ability to know the answers to all of those questions, you can exercise that atrophied muscle and be able to flex it at the next social function you attend.

3. Increase your Netflix subscription so there is a constant flow of movies in the
mailbox
Perhaps you don't want to spend that extra $2 plus applicable taxes? Never fear, you can watch all the movies your lovely mother recorded for you on those old fashioned VHS tapes. So what if some of them have been viewed so many times that the picture is a little wobbly and causes you to feel the onset of motion sickness? You've seen most of those movies so many times you don't have to concentrate too hard on the actual watching. After all, it's the noise that's important.

4. Play Xbox until you're bleary eyed
This one works really well, since it is easy as pie to wile away the hours without even noticing how many you've lost forever. However, should you get stuck on a particularly gnarly section that you just can't seem to advance from, this option does become less appealing.

5. Surf the internet
Here's another opportunity for the name that band/album/singer/song game exercise. And, if you're like me and refuse to cough up the extra dough to have a high speed internet connection, you'll really have some serious noise-filled hours while you wait for that Ryan Adams website to fully load.

Happy Silence Avoiding!!!

I heart Wong Kar Wai

2007-04-05T20:36:00.000-07:00

If you haven't had the divine pleasure of seeing films by this graceful, intriguing, sexy, thoughtful, smart, melodic, moody, stay with you long after they're over, AMAZING FILM MAKER, then you must run to your local video store or move to the top of your Netflix queue movies by this man. Go ahead, start with As Tears Go By and see how he is not just any Hong Kong director. Of course, as I am notoriously a late bloomer, you may already know the greatness that is Wong Kar Wai, and I'm not telling you anything new. However, if you haven't...RENT THEE Chungking Express, or In the Mood For Love if nothing else.

The Lowdown...

2007-03-28T17:49:00.000-07:00

I know it's hard to believe, but I am still here. Simply haven't felt like writing, that's all. Quick update for my loyal readership of...ummm...four? Three? Five? Whatever. Here's a sum up of Linnet:

1. I've actually sent in applications to two of the four grad schools that I was interested in applying to. The third one doesn't accept applications for the winter quarter (or spring semester--whichever they do) until June 1st. The fourth prefers that you begin in their summer session, which I just wouldn't be ready to do this summer, so I'll wait to see how the other three go before applying to start there in summer '08. All four programs are 100% online, distance learning, fully accredited MLIS programs. Please, won't one of you accept me into your school so that I can go into debt for upwards of $50,000?

2. Shawn is transferring to California for longshore work. He'll be driving crane out there (which is what he wants to do as long as he's a longshoreman.) We will be doing the commuting thing. Neither of us has done a long distance relationship before, so it'll be new for both. Ideally, he would like to be 2 weeks down there and 2 weeks in Seattle. I'm a bit blue, I won't lie. However, with him gone for a little while each month I'll finally have that quiet, alone time to write my novel. O. Wait. I'm not writing a novel. Well, I'll have some quiet, alone time to do whatever it is I would do if no one were in my apartment distracting me with his charming, loving ways...Given a choice, I'd rather have the distraction. I fear I may delve into a hermit like lifestyle, the xbox my only companion.

3. I received my tax refund. A whoppin' $130. Damn that 1099 form. Gee, what to do with my riches...perhaps save it towards a digital camera? My favorite film developer is closing up shop for good. I just can't go back to the Bartell's to have pictures developed. Not after being spoiled by the styling glories of Film Stop. Time for me to join the digital camera band wagon?

4. Sight Nine (my still existing, yet quietly so, theatre company) is in pre-production for Mrs. Klein, which will open in September. I predict great things. It is such a yummy play.

That's all folks!

One Voice, Singing in the Darkness...

2007-01-28T20:31:00.000-08:00

I'm half watching this reality tv program about casting the next Danny and Sandy for the Broadway revival of Grease. I'd seen lots of advertisements for it and heard two guys talking about it on the bus, last week. I thought, "Gee, that could be interesting. Watching auditons for Grease. Scenes from the show, some choreography and some singing... sounds fun." Well, it's not. Or, tonight it's not. They just sing. It's like watching American Idol--of which I've seen about 15 minutes, once--except they're singing pop songs sans the vocal gymnastics. Well, it's not what I expected. I was talking with my friend, Maia, who called after it had been on long enough for me to watch two contestants, and I mentioned the American Idol comparison. We came up with the idea that for the public, the singing aspect is the most accesible. It's viceral and can be emotive and hits us on those levels in a way that watching a scene, out of the context of the whole play, probably would not. o. and it's being cast out of LA, not New York. Call me old fashioned. Call me naive. Broadway is to New York as Film is to LA. (Yes, I know they are not mutually exclusive. I'm just sayin'...it's for a BROADWAY SHOW!!! Why can't the auditions be in New York? If they'll fly to LA LA land, they'll fly to NYC. They have television stuios and stuido audiences there, too, don't they?) I really don't need to get all worked up over this. I doubt that I am going to watch it again.

The inspiration for this entry came not from the actual television program, but from my conversation with Maia. From the notion that music can be so tactile, emotionally. So, I'm going to share a little secret with you. About me and singing. When I am alone.

I love to play solitaire on my computer and listen to/sing along with sappy, silly, sad and happy love songs. For hours. In a row. At a fairly full volume. I have an ever expanding playlist that is added to and subtracted from, depending on my mood, of songs that I sing, aloud, with feeling while playing single player card games. The criteria is that the songs be very melodic, I have to know the words pretty well, melancholy themes are a plus and that it clicks in some way for me emotionally. Heartache, loveache, longing, earnestnest and sometimes even bliss--those are big winners. And isn't that the fun of music, anyway? You hear a song and somehow it precisely conjures up feelings you, yourself, have experienced and singing that song or even just hearing it puts you exactly in that place again. That connection is strong, it is immediate and it is full. I do like the singing. In the pseudo privacy of my apartment. I wonder what, if anything, my neighbors hear? In my version of reality experienced in my apartment, I have a good, solid singing voice. Not magnificent, but in tune and even interesting. Outside my apartment, I don't know. I'm too self concsious if I think someone can actually hear me sing which leads to not so good singing. I only want to be a pop star in my living room. And sometimes a broadway singing sensation, when i'm cleaning. Then it's Chess, City of Angels, Into the Woods and Les Mis all the way. Just for me. Audra MacDonald, watch out! Linnet's got the broom and she means to sweep.