Sunday, February 14, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
The Airborne Toxic Event: Gasoline (Acoustic Series Week 3)
Uploaded by airbornetoxicevent. - See the latest featured music videos.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Sublime w/Rome STP live at the Cantina Sparks NV FEB 28th 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
You may know me from my characteristically long philosophical musings taking up much of the comments section on this blog.
Well, good news! I've been promoted from commenter to blogger. Hmm... nix that, let's call it, "Contributing Editor." That sounds more like something you could put on a resume.
So I'm the new Contributing Editor for this music blog.
The good news for you, our loyal readers, is that in theory, this should increase the frequency of postings.
Without futher adeiu, here is my first post...
Ando esperandoEsperando tantoPor um momento de graçaCoisa que passa?(Ou que ficaMas sóPorque não sabe onde ir)Andei procurando um mar de areiaPro meu corpo pousarQuando dei por mim, madrugada jáQuando dei por mim, madrugada já
"Bia spends a few years sailing around the Atlantic and Mediterranean, learning more about nature, literature, languages, music and politics than she would in any school. In 1995, she decides she won’t be anything else but a musician, and starts going professional. She is living in France and so she sings in French as well as in her mother tongue, Portuguese, or Spanish that she had learned as a child."
Thursday, September 03, 2009
long-time fans will also be aware that i write these blogs nearly stream of consciousness...float w/me for a bit? as always, the music is down below.
as someone who studied (and indeed, wrote) poetry in school, i appreciate and am moved by lyrics. as someone who grew up a beatles fan, i know a good melody when i hear it. this should have a third example for proper crescendoing, but nothing's springing to mind. BUT, for a song to slap me across the thigh and tilt my chin up, and more importantly, to shut my eyes...it's got to feel like something.
this calls to mind 'punch drunk love'. i looked online to find an example of PTA's use of color w/Jon Brion's 600 x brilliant soundtrack (which includes 'here we go' which i just listed as my favorite song of all time on a 'get to know me' newspaper for my fifth graders) but i couldn't find one. PDL is all about tone. sure, it's about a dude who buys tons of pudding, but it's REALLY about tone. i don't care how much you didn't like it (or liked it!) as a popcorn accompaniment... watch it again and pay close attention to sound/color/tone. every color matters! every sound matters. they all cast deep shadows.
it also calls to mind an interview i read way back in the day with john mayer. apparently, the boy sees music as colors (officially, and uncooly, called synesthesia.) how amazing is that?! now, in his case, i wish it would lead to better music (he was asked what the most interesting looking music was and he said dave matthews band) but, what a cool "disease"!
listen to the song...then maybe it'll get clearer.
Andrew Bird. See the Enemy. Lyrics.
this song kicked my ass like none has in i don't know how long. seriously, it's been years since a song took hold like this. i don't even really want to talk about it.
so pretty. i just loops and swirls. words, tucking each other in so tight and then tossing each other into the air. i just want to sway in the front row and pound my head into the power of it all. tight little balls of music and english.
god, i love andrew bird. i hope he's getting rich. songwriters, singers, musicians of all types should have shrines to this man. it's all gold. how could you not love someone who describes himself as a "chicago-based multi-instrumentalist, lyricist and whistler." if you don't know and honor him daily...fix it.
this is a sparse remix of his song 'anonanimal'.
that's it...i told you i didn't want to talk about it. it's been on repeat for the last hour and i could leave it on for 20 more.
Deric, your sporadic music blog posts are always a pleasant surprise. You do an amazing job of stripping away the layers of formality and expressing a feeling that the music inspires in you without ego. It's raw, and really adds insight to music that I might not listen to on paper. I feel it too, and one of my criteria for a characteristic of what I consider to be good art is conveying a feeling or an emotion.
Interesting point about the music-color relationship. I know I certainly associate different musical chords or tones with color. However, when I talk about the color of music, I guess I think more of the traditional definition of Color or Timbre.
A good explanation of musical Color / Timbre can be found here:
Timbre, the Color of Music.
Basically, Color / Timbre describes all of the aspects of a musical sound that do not have anything to do with the sound's pitch, loudness, or length.
My favorite things to do in music is when I've completely learned a song inside and out and I get to play around with the color of the piece, adding in crescendos of brightness and decrescendos into sweeter darker sounds. This can be done conjunction with actual crescendos to accent or in opposition to them. That's the difference between technically and mechanically playing a piece and playing with feeling. That is where the soul is captured and expressed through the music. It is rare that most people even hear the difference, let alone be moved by it, but when another person really gets it and shares in that moment in space and time, that exact sound and feeling and place that is being experienced for the first time and will never be experienced again... that's one of the best feelings in the world as an artist.
I don't remember the last time I felt that.
Sometimes I'll seriously just play one guitar lick over and over and over and over again exploring every aspect of musical color that I can.
The synesthesia thing sounds cool, it sounds like basically a strong association between sound and color (that said, John Mayer, good musician that he is, is kindof a big blow-hard so I wouldn't be surprised if he was embellishing in order to seem cool and mysterious to get chicks, which I wouldn't necessarily hold against him).
I think I refer to that as 'sound-space' or the head-space that it puts you in. I don't know if I really have a definition for that.
If I were to describe the sound-space that See the Enemy creates for me I guess it would be mellow at first but then you are thrown just a little off kilter when they switch from 4/4 time in the beginning to 7/8 as they go into the verse (someone can feel free to correct me if that's wrong). It's playful, and the bass line doesn't change that much so it leaves you antsy and thought-provoked. The off-beat rhythm and pace of the lyrics threaten to just leave the song behind, but even when it sounds like they aren't, they are still in time and come back to realign with the bass.
If something could be be chill, chaotic, and playful all at the same time, then that would be this song.
Saturday, September 12, 2009 2:17:00 PM PDT__________________________________________________________________
and.......i'm too busy w/stupid hw to really respond at the moment. however, thank you for not only commenting, but substantially contributing w/a blog of your own. you're the best.
i will say that this particular album by Bird is a reworking of songs from another album. could there be any better subject for a discussion of timbre/color? love andrew. he really does cut to the quick of me.
check it out:
Andrew Bird. Anonanimal.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
since last saturday, all of that spare time was spent sick as hell. i'm still coughing and weak now, but i'm finally feeling human again :)
there are two things that i want to share w/you all today. one is the new Dangermouse project that you MUST download, because it may never be released. the other is a beautiful little poem. the poem is really what drove me to post.
also, DMRC people. seriously, i'm not posting music. i'm posting links to places where music is hosted. seriously. quit trying to cuckold me.
DJ Dangermouse & Sparklehorse. Dark Night of the Soul.
Download Link #1.
Download Link #2 (if you use this one, you'll need to grab the song below, as it's missing from this set.)
DJ Dangermouse & Sparklehorse. Revenge (feat. Wayne Coyne).
geez, this one's a story. not one of my rambling ones either, but it's a whole bunch of grown-up high-school drama. if you're into music news, i recommend the following links:
NPR's story (along w/the entire album to stream.)
DNOTS website along w/some David Lynch (yes, that one) visuals.
here's the gist: Dangermouse and EMI are fighting again. David Lynch (yes, that one) designed an intricate (and i'm sure dark, and odd, and surreal...like the one above) book of visuals to go with the album which Dangermouse is saying will be released with a blank cd and the following message: “For legal reasons, enclosed CD contains no music. Use it as you will.” how great is that?! basically, Dangermouse is asking you, the public, to find the album on the internet. torrent it--download it through the link above--whatever, just so long as you hear his album.
oh, and it's good too. not all of it is something i want to listen to all the time, but there are a few fantastic songs on there.
i don't post poetry very often but i wanted to share the following. i suppose i could start including poetry more often as i have many favorites, but this one is totally spontaneous. i stumbled upon it this morning and this is maybe the second time i've stumbled upon any good poetry (apart from the classics.) it's so american and so contemporary. it's a kind of poetry that i didn't understand when i was studying poetry, but has become my favorite since then. it's a short story, w/o all the junk. simple, matter of fact, grand.
DEATH AND TACOS
Waiting in line at a taco stand for my number to be called
I started talking to a six-year-old kid kicking his little foot against
A curb and waiting for his dad to come out of the bathroom.
And he said, “Why do you cough so much?”
And I said, “Because I have cancer.”
And he said, “Bummer.”
And I said, “Yep.”
And he said, “Does it hurt?”
And I said, “Only when I breathe.”
And he said, “Why don’t you hold your breath?”
And I puffed out my cheeks like Lois
Let him see it and held it for as long as I could
Before exploding into a hacking eruption of
Stupid sounds and saliva.
And he laughed.
And I coughed and laughed.
And he said, “Feel better?”
And I said, “A bit.”
And I showed him how much better with my
Thumb and index finger. And pointed at a green thread
of mucous that had dribbled out onto my chin
He said, “Gross.” And wiping it off
I said, “Yep.”
And he said, “My granddaddy had cancer before he died on the hospital.”
And I said, “You mean in the hospital?”
And he said, “Yeah on the hospital.”
And I said, “Oh, yeah?”
And he said, “He used to give me candy all of the times I ever saw him.”
And I said, “Sorry kid, I don’t have any candy.”
And, deflated, he said, “Are you gonna die on the hospital?”
And I said, “You mean in the hospital?”
And he said, “Yea, are you gonna die on the hospital?”
And I said, “Probably.”
And he said, “OK.”
And, upon giving that gracious consent, the boy’s dad came out and
The boy said, “Well, bye!” And I said, “See ya.”
And he ran off.
And, for a while, between the two of us,
Dying became so very ordinary, like candy or tacos or semantics,
And death itself suddenly just this obnoxious third-wheel
A pitiful nuisance with nothing better to do with his time
Than to tag along with me and this six-year-old kid.
And I sat smiling in the sun and imagining death at the moment,
A sad sack of lonely-self slumped somewhere in the distance,
As I waited for my number to come up.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Ben Sollee (god i hate flash websites...musicians, please knock it off with that crap...i don't want you opening up all sorts of windows...frick). lyrics.
i've posted ben before. in fact, i've posted two of the below songs before.
[deal with it.]
it's been a long time since i've found anything that jacked me up this much.
[i love the cello.]
i'm going to let some other blogs do some of my work for me here and post a few links in addition to the direct links to songs.
i can't find his album online, and i'm unwilling to upload anything, so you'll just have to buy it. or, you can spend a little bit of time pouring over the hypem link below and piece together some of the best tracks that way. the hype machine rocks.
it was the daytrotter version of "a change is going to come" that made me want to post, so that one goes first. so good. i'm not going to steal traffic from that site, so you'll have to go there to hear it. it's worth it.
the video below is a trip...i've never heard anyone play a cello in exactly that way. his album is really clean, but a lot of his live stuff is much grimier, in the best possible way. i'm not unique, nor am i completely normal, in that i often have problems with music sounding too clean/sterile. i recommend that you take the time to listen to at least the daytrotter and the album versions of "a change is gonna come" (yes, this is a cover of a sam cooke song...lord knows i'll get an email from someone if i don't say that.)
1. daytrotter session.
2. hype machine links.
3. bonus (w/a couple vids and an f apple cover...loves me some missus apple).
Ben Sollee - A Change Is Gonna Come - Luxury Wafers Sessions from Luxury Wafers.
songs (album versions):
a change is gonna come.
how to see the sun rise.
only a song.
hey ben...come to town, wouldja?
Saturday, December 27, 2008
this meanders. i haven't posted in so long, that i'm just going to go with the flow here. there is a main theme, but the "structure" of this thing is going to be tangents inside of schisms of asides. it'll be tender buttons w/far less repetition...or homosexuality...and with nouns and no sex (mmmm...i could go for some alice b toklas ice cream from Marianne's)
seriously, this one goes all over the place and as always, it's easy to see where the music sits...feel free to scroll down unless you've got a few minutes and like me an inordinate amount.
i had taken to listening to my ipod on completely random.
normally, i use my playlists to filter an insane quantity of music down to something manageable. not too many months ago, i got a new computer....a beautiful, beefy laptop on which i'm writing now. in the xferring of music from old computer (still up and running...though solely for dangerous/chancy surfing) to new, i managed to lose my playlists. now, many of you know that i am an enemy of apple, and a self-loathing owner of apple products (including my new iphone, which is pure sex.) the primary reason for this hatred isn't geek posturing, but the s-load of proprietary roadblocks that apple stacks in their very shiny products. some of you may know that it is impossible to remove files from ipods and put them on your computer through apple-approved methods. this is a pile of horseshit (i love that firefox doesn't correct the spelling on horseshit!) when one pays a ton of money for an external drive that can play music, once should be able to use it like an external drive. period...end of story. eff you apple...right in your stupid a.
in order to be truly happy, i need my playlists, so i couldn't sync my ipod for the last few months (the old ones would have been deleted upon syncing...effing stupid crap...the music is MINE, regardless of the fact that i stole most of it), which gave me little reason to surf for new music. of course i could manually put the new songs on the ipod, but every time i thought about how apple was cramping my style, i just got angry.
a few weeks ago when joanna abandoned me for a day, i decided i was going to solve my problem through any illegal means necessary. super-duper-over-long story short, i finally came upon yamIpod, which appears to be the greatest freeware out there for hijacking your ipod. specifically, it is the only one i found that allows you to remove playlists themselves. awesome. these playlists that i need to be truly happy.
however, i had taken to listening to my ipod on completely random.
since i am constantly listening to music, tons of forgotten songs popped up, until i had a nice list, sufficient for a blog.
however, as you may have noticed, i don't really blog anymore.
but, apparently, i do.
a few things have led me back to blogging.
i may have mentioned, in paren, that i got a sexy new phone. if i hadn't already named my snowboard vera, then i guarantee that the iphone would get that name. well, now that i have internet at my fingertips all the damn time, i have started reading cvjm's blog again. thus, i started commenting and bouncing to other blogs as well (as a former blogger, i know how rad those comments feel.)
you may have noticed that my last post was actually a repost. (oddly, i've never received so many comments before...maybe i should just cycle through my best posts every few months?) the cause of that repost should be fairly clear from the (now censored) rant its beginning. however, despite my displeasure, i enjoyed revisiting that past post, and i LOVE that, through no further work of my own, i was able to hit a few souls who missed it on the first time around. that post is one of the few that is close to my heart, and one of the very few that strays into anything but pure frivolity. for those that didn't catch it, or don't feel like taking the step back, it was largely concerned with memory.
i used to meditate a good deal on memory, i think in large part because mine is so poor. i physically hold on to absolutely everything. every time i cleaned my room as a kid, i found new places to squirrel away junk. you should have seen it circa the end of high school....probably half of my 12x12 room was filled with random shit. because i've never had to move everything out of here, i've never done the massive filtering wherein i toss all of the childhood crap, though i've certainly pared down over the years. i still have a few big boxes--at least--of flotsam that connects me to moments/feelings from my childhood (i wonder if the exes would be flattered or creeped out by the scrap piles.). you see, i don't think everyone out there can relate to having an atrocious memory for the past: i legitimately CANNOT dredge up a lot of these memories without the trinket that sends me there.
the other day, i inherited a new desk which led me back to blogging.
now, the one i had was truly an inheritance: it belonged to my grandfather. i believe, though we've talked about my memory, that he was a salesman of office furniture when he brought his family here from holland. it was a nice desk. however, it was too big for my little room, and when my sister was tossing her little ikea number, i did the switcheroo. i knew that the (giant) top drawer of the old desk had served as a catch-all for years, but i had no idea what i was dipping into. i'd had that desk for maybe 17 years, but there were items in there from well before that time period. there was a pencil that i won in cub scouts. there were micro machines from third grade (yes, i remember specifically which year that was because we played with them every day for a while there, out in the sandbox, making marble madness style runs for them to go down.) there was a small section of my rock collection; a stone cross i wore in my devout (more like passing) days as well as a yin-yang i wore for a spell in between (not to mention a playboy pendant that i probably bought at the fair and wore far far before i ever kissed a girl); my ex gf's high school id along with a bracelet and shoelaces from my hs gf; years of gifts in the shape of pigs which my mom gives me to "celebrate" my chauvinism. there was a paper from gamestop on which i wrote up my manager for using *CENSORED* and faxed it to his gf (whom i had never met.) KOME stickers. KSJO keychain. my charcoal pencils from the period when i wanted to be an artist like my mom. years and years of STUFF, none of it junk...all of it important enough to save for one reason or another.
this kind of drawer makes me melancholy. always. these happy memories are rendered sad by their distance. i'm totally old. all this stuff that was so important. all this stuff i've forgotten. i don't relish it, or celebrate it, i mope about it...but i'm completely unwilling to chance the alternative: forgetting.
so, a few things have led me back to blogging.
Ted Leo. Timerous Me. Lyrics.
the song i most wanted to share is one that i used to sing along with, w/o really listening to the lyrics. i admit to doing this shamefully often...especially given my snobbery surrounding words.
today, when i finally decided that i was going to write about it, i did some digging for an online mp3 of the song so the DMCA butt-puppets wouldn't erase my post (i was warned not to post more music or my blog would be shit-canned.) while digging, i circuitously found that i had even less of a handle on the topic of the song than i thought. while searching for "timory", i came upon the story of an OK Go song called "return" about a girl named timory hyde (lyrics of return. the end of that thing is pretty sad.)
this rabbit hole goes on and on, and it's getting more daunting to write this every time i stray away to look for more. song after song is written in remembrance of this girl, but the short version is that timory hyde died while at brown university, on her bday, when a friend hugged her and the window she was leaning on gave out, sending the pair three stories down to the driveway below. she was an artist and musician herself, and appears to have been beloved by all who knew her, and even a few who only knew the twinkle in her eye, as is evidenced by this song.
of all the random things i came across about this girl's death, this post moved me the most. i don't know if roberta is a mom, or a sister...but, talk about cleaning out a desk:
I don’t know what made me do a Timory Hyde search but I found this. Thank you, Elliot, for writing it. I’ve finally been cleaning out Timory’s room because I know what I want to do with it and I know she would like it. I’ve tried to reach you through emails but they must all be different. I haven’t written but I should. Laziness overcomes me. Maybe emotion as well. I miss hearing from you. I’m going to try to find Leo’s cd. I’m looking forward to being “frozen” and also to the nice feeling that Timory drove another to song. She’d like that….. R
Wednesday, August 13, 2003 at 5:43 pm
i rarely print lyrics in their entirety, but, it's just such a perfect end to the post, and poses all the right questions. deep and melancholy food for thought...that's what my blog is.
Me and Johnny sittin' in the green grass -
I don’t remember too much from that far back in the past,
But man, oh man, was Johnathan a laugh
In those days.
Apparently he was my very best friend -
We spent warm summer days wishing they would never end -
But I only know from photographs I look at
Every now and again.
And J-J-Johnny -
Ooh, ooh, all he left us was an apple tree,
And ooh, where'd he go, and ooh, why'd he leave,
And ooh, why do I grieve?
Now I don’t ever see Johnathan no more,
But my life rolls on just like it did before,
And I only wonder what it is
That I even miss him for.
Me and Timory holdin' hands -
I was shakin' hers, ‘cause she said she was a fan,
There was an awkward pause, and something that should’ve began
Just passed us by.
But I watched her sing along with every word,
In the prettiest voice that I never heard,
And I still see her dancing, wearin' my shirt:
And t-t-timorous me -
All Timory left me was a memory.
And ooh, I was blind, and ooh, now I find
That I can’t see.
Now me and Jodi spend a lot of our time
Just sittin' in silence, driving late at night,
And maybe even wonderin' what’s on each other’s mind
But I know she’s like me, so I let it ride -
She’s dwelling in that quiet space left behind,
Where only peace can answer why,
And you abide
The birds must fly.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Monday, September 17, 2007
(new ed note: since people are too effing stupid to read my note on the side column about asking me to take down any copyrighted material, and instead thought it would be cool to report me to the DMCA effers, i am having to repost this w/o the links. i will HAPPILY send these lists to ANYONE who requests them. if i knew who complained in this courageless and disgusting way instead of contacting me, i would do everything possible to mess with them and their band in the future. grow a spine dickhead.)
(new new ed note: geez. i was pretty pissed. i have now replaced every "u" in effs with an asterisk in order to soften the blow. i think it does the trick. yes, i realize that in writing this note, i increased the number of effs by four and i only augmented [didn't remove] two effs to begin with, but these are much happier and less caustic effs.)
(new new new ed note: now that i'm a teacher, i've gone back and replaced all the f***s with "effs". enjoy.)
so, when i was in, like, FOUR foreign countries, i got a chance to catch up with a TON of listening i have been planning to get to.i had this great idea that i would earmark a whole bunch of songs for the blog and that this would make it way easier to be good little blogger. however, since i have been feeling pretty anti-blog recently, i have decided to handle this a little differently. i am posting the entire list (copied out of the back page of my battered copy of "the book of laughter and forgetting" that i read for what must be the 15th time) all at once. this makes for a pretty schizophrenic playlist, but i'm listening to it right now, and it is actually quite good. since most of this playlist was assembled while i was actually traveling (meaning, in a car/bus/train/airplane) i was a in a pretty similar mood for most of the picking. public transportation always makes me introspective and a little sad.
these links will only be good for 7 days or 100 downloads, whichever comes first. this means that those loyal readers who follow the blog closely will be rewarded with a very fine assortment of songs. the rest of you will have to beg if you want them. though the order of the songs was all mixed up, some of you might notice that all of the artists have names beginning with one of the first 9 letters of the alphabet. this is not by chance. that's as far as i made it through the 900 song playlist i was working from.
Seabear - A.R.C.
Daedalus - Just Briefly
Bishop Allen - Flight 180
Belleruche - Minor Swing
Flanger - How Long is the Wrong Way
General Miggs - Broken Hoof
Hollowpaw - Cinders
Grizzly Bear - Knife
Feist - Mushaboom
Bowerbirds - In Our Talons
Benoit Piolard - Patter
Caribou - Melody Day
Harlan T Bobo - Stop
Goyte - Heart's a Mess
Detektivbyrån - Nattöppet
Gavouna - Three
Doveman - Cities
Beirut - Postcards from Italy
Bibio/Richard Roberts - Marram
The Coral - Dreaming of you
Irma Thomas - I Need Your Love So Bad
Flying - Minors
Dispatch - The General
DJ Shadow - Organ Donor
Clue to Kalo - The Just is Enough
Chris and the Other Girls - Let Go
Frankenixon - Impasse
Fischerspooner - Kick in the Teeth
Casey Dienel - Tundra
Four Tet - Spirit Fingers
Hot Springs - Gotta DJ
CocoRosie - Ohio
Deceptikon - Sometimes You Hear it Coming
Chris Thile - Laurie De'Tullins
Cloud Cult - Chemicals Collide
Skip this if you don't want to hear a pretty sizable ramble:
i love my copy of "laughter and forgetting." it's this old translation that i prefer to the newer one. anyone who has read kundera will love the following and understand the perfection of the following:
when i bought it, it had an inscription in it, signed with love. whoever received this book traded it into a used book store where i bought it and wrote an inscription in it, signed with love. when i broke up with the girl i gifted it to, i kept the book (not only is it my favorite translation, it has an essential interview w/kundera in the back.) so here's this kundera book with two different pledges of love, at least one of which has totally been rescinded.
for those of you who aren't familiar with kundera: a) fix it. b) sorry that the irony, and the reason for my joy, are lost on you. here is an explanation:
this book has gone backpacking twice and has been in 6 countries. at some point during it's most recent trip, the cover actually fell off, erasing my note. it's only a matter of time before kevin's note to bessie meets with a similar fate. so, two different boys used this book, which is largely about forgetting, as an artifact showcasing their eternal love. both of these specific pledges were likely voluntarily forgotten, but didn't vanish with this act of forgetting; there was still a record of these words and sentiments. there is a chance that these inscriptions are the ONLY record left of these words and sentiments (in my case, they aren't) and that all proof of this love will disintegrate with the book.
we all have things and periods in our lives that we would like to forget. have you ever thought about the artifacts and records that remain, or did you burn all their photographs? what about the times in your life that were beautiful and priceless: have you ever thought about the incomparable sadness of those memories slowly leaving you? as kundera says in the interview, "what terrifies us about death is not the loss of the future, but the loss of a past." it is our past that makes us us, and every thing we forget is a small kind of death. or not.
i could easily write a good paper on this subject (as opposed to an unfocused ramble, i suppose) but i'll shut up now. if any of you made it this far and would like to read what i consider to be the second greatest book i have ever read, feel free to contact me for a copy.
i hope you like the songs...there is an awful lot of good music there to be had.
sharks season tickets kick in tomorrow and soccer starts soon!!!
discussion continues below and in comments both!
1. adam. 9/17/07
I burned all the photographs. With the letters.
Good memories fade on their own; I've found I have to forcibly purge the bad ones from my memory. Songs I associate with a particular memory are played on repeat while doing something new and interesting, or otherwise noteworthy.
In the end, the memories come back no matter what you do, but this way they're shadows of their former selves. Which is one step away from oblivion.
The antithesis of love (and hate) is apathy, and apathy begets forgetfulness.
Okay, enough being bitter... Hook me up with the second-greatest book you've ever read. I'll download the music tomorrow after class.
And woot for season tickets!
okay, the music is safely stowed on my computer. Thank you for that.
I've kept photographs, letters, ticket stubs. To any prospective beau, I'd have to say fooey on you if you didn't respect and acknowledge the fact that those are the relationships that have made me who I am today. You can love me more today because they loved me [and maybe hurt me] before. I keep everything. I'm still not quite sure what to do about the music though. The ones that are specifically tied to memories of someone else. I've tried not to play them, but I find that just makes me sad, since the music was so wonderful at the time. For others, I've listened back on the music and realized there was nothing inherently special about it except for the memory attached to it. I've noticed that my music collections are heavily influenced by the person that I'm dating. not good. not bad. just interesting.
I don't think it's coincidence that Kundera has played such a role in each of our perspectives on love. For me, it was "The Unbearable Lightness of Being." I haven't read the one you wrote about. I haven't read a lot of good books. Maybe its because I don't have time for it. Maybe it's because I don't make time for it. The only thing was that ULB affected me to such a high degree, and left my ex-beau so un-fazed that he couldn't focus on reading past the 6th chapter. oh well. ULB sits safely on my self of favorite books. Maybe I'll read it again.
yay for hockey.
2b. response to ali.
i'm totally a packrat. i have an embarrassing amount of swag from my serious relationships. as for people getting butt-hurt about keeping this stuff: there are guys (and girls) out there who like to pretend that they are boldly going where no man has gone before, but i think most of them grow out of it...i know that all of my jealous tendencies that reared their heads when i was a youngster have long since gone the way of the buffalo.
as for the music: there isn't much that i associate with anyone anymore. since i was in a five year deal, there was a time that EVERYthing could be tied to her in one way or another, but that has long since faded. even when i listen to mixes that i made specifically for her, there is hardly any residue (those are some fantastic mixes too!) it's also worth noting that i am usually the one in any relationship who does the introductions to new music, so i think that also helps with the lack of associations.
as for kundera...one of my life goals that has not been accomplished yet is to read UBL and LAF in prague. i absolutely love UBL. the first time i read kundera was in the most brilliantly crafted course i have ever taken. i ordered it offline and it arrived the day i had a paper due. i had to read it cover to cover (there shall be no skimming of kundera, please!) and write an essay in one night. luckily, it was one of the best books i've read.
i could very easily speak or write for hours about kundera. since that shotgun reading of UBL, i have read all but two of the remainder of his library, with LAF emerging as the most shockingly brilliant (ok...i managed to mistype both shockingly and brilliant, which feels ironic.) it is a lot harder to swallow than UBL, but it is so daring and awesome and put me there, in prague, in a magical way. i also believe that it can change lives.
as for his views on love...i'm surprised to hear that he has so profoundly affected your's, but i suppose that, in all truth, i don't know you very well. he usually offers such a clinical, often bleak, view of love and i guess i always pegged you as a romantic. but, one of the wonderful things about kundera is that he writes truly philosophical novels. by this, i mean that he rarely offers answers when he can offer a question. what i think of his take on love can not be objectively correct...he doesn't allow for it. as the man himself says, "The stupidity of people comes from having an answer for everything. The wisdom of the novel comes from having a question for everything." he never paints tereza as stupid or truly weak, regardless of what she and tomas think...that decision is left up to the reader.
i have to go to school (before i look over what i wrote...i hope it makes sense...i usually do) but thank you for the response ali. if you send me your address, i'll send you a copy of LAF.
and yes, yay for hockey.
how can I obtain a copy of these discs, the arists are awesome! once again, your blog is awesome and so insightful to music that I love, but can never find it.
3b. response to Nick.
i only have a handful of those complete albums.
i was actually working from a playlist of songs that i downloaded from other blogs, so i only have one or two songs from many of them.
amazon is always a pretty good place to start when looking for music, but for many of these artists, the record label is going to be the only place that has the discs for sale.
How exactly does one maneuver with a .rar file? I'm sitting here wondering when I'll get to peek into the sounds of each song and enjoy their momentary realism but I cannot find where the big red button should be that let's you play .rar.
If you haven't noticed by now, I'm lazy as a life
I'm in love with my artifacts though, because without them my memories take on silly personas and start acting out- without them I have no evidence of my humble origins, with them I can connect to the "then" and I can sense it "now"
900 songs !! love your playlists btw, consistently divine thanks so much
4b. Response to Moneer.
here is a list of downloads for unpacking .rar files. ignore the fact that they say "trial"...i've had mine for a couple of years now. if you are on windows, use winrar, if not: good luck and buy a real computer ;)
what on earth is a "bag" memory?
4c. reply from Moneer
hmmmmm....wish I knew.
Maybe it's like the bag that you put your garbage in or something...should be a heavy duty bag though...wouldnt want it to rip if you put a razor-sharp memory in there (like a can of worms tossed in it or so)
gotta have the heavy duty bags...
4d. and back again.
i have a couple that no bag could hold...
I like to think of it as my own personal 'love metric'... from the two relationships that have meant the most to me, I have an amazing collection of memories captured in words (letters, notes, emails, book notations)... from those that passed leaving little trace... well. That about says it!
So funny that I haven't visited your venerable blog for many weeks and the one day that I do is the day that I'm both re-reading UBL and struggling with the increasing ambiguity of love and past and willful forgetfulness. It makes me happy to know that others (you) are reading this and getting the same heartbreaking truths out of it. God, I love Kundera. I am dying to go to Prague, in fact. I loved your story of the BLF, I think it's so apt to everything he's saying. Isn't it funny when life parallels art, perhaps because of what it is. Truth. Plain and simple. Another really strange coincidence (or maybe not) I just picked up a new copy of Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters, and I thought of you.
Also, on the music side of things, are you an Alexi Murdoch fan? I'm listening right now. The song, I think, is just called "12" and it is wonderful, but there are many more where that came from on this album. Hope you're well:)
I know this is a bit of a delayed response but this is the first time I've sat down and really read/listened to your music blog so here goes... (Comparatively sizable ramble ahead)
I am coming to terms with the fact that I am now very much in love in the new sense that the end game of our relationship is a question mark. I should explain... With every relationship I've ever been in, me being a calculating man (which is considered contemptible by the samurai code for those of you who have read Hagakure), I have always almost immediately envisioned the point where the relationship would inevitably end. With some I came to this realization with greater accuracy than others... I have even been surprised and caught off guard a couple times with timing of the end. Nevertheless, the relevant fact is that I always envisioned it ending.
I don't know if 'scared' is the right adjective to use to describe the fact that I am currently with the woman who I could maybe someday hypothetically perhaps potentially be able to commit to spending the rest of my life with but it's something close to that word. For those of you who don't know me very well, the previous sentence should be a pretty huge indicator that I have commitment issues. I do know right now she is the only one I want and I am very happy with that.
Maybe it is that I'm afraid that it will go away like so many other failed declarations of love that I have witnessed or experienced, or maybe I'm more afraid that it won't go away which is usually my easy resolution of any adverse issues that may arise. I keep being reminded of the impermanent nature of love and human beings in general. If you are into Zen philosophy, like the cherry blossom, impermanence is an integral part of love's beauty. On the other hand, Yuko Mishima would argue that true beauty, to be preserved throughout all eternity, must be struck down at its height, because time inevitably deteriorates everything.
So maybe I'm afraid of the loss of love, or worse, the slow deterioration of love. I agree with Kundera when he says that it is the loss of our past, not our future, which terrifies us about death. I am terrified of losing what I have right now. I have an amazing group of close friends, an amazing relationship with an amazing girl who wants nothing more than to be with me and live our lives together, an awesome home, ultimate potential to pursue anything I want, and go anywhere I want.
I'm not necessarily in agreement with Mr. Mishima about the best course of action; however he does pose an interesting philosophy. I hope that Mishima is not correct in his assertion that I should end this before it becomes something less than perfect. I prefer to think of love as evolving and growing, sometimes dying, but ever continuing.
Anyways, I've been doing a great deal of thinking about the philosophy behind and nature of love lately and I happened to read this particular blog at this particular moment and it really spoke to me. I desperately want to read Kundera now, however I cannot promise to do so before I graduate in December because so much of my efforts are concentrated on school right now.
Deric, I don't know if I've told you this but I love and appreciate your
P.S. To those of you reading this who are my close friends, seriously you guys are awesome. I've hung out with other people's groups of friends, and they suck by comparison.
4b. Response to Ronnie.
there is certainly a certain amount of wonderful fear involved in that sort of love for us analytical folks. it is easily the best and worst thing in the world. i recommend that you just hold out your arms and float in it, enjoying the simultaneous lightness and heaviness of it all (gotta keep the kundera thread alive)...like when you are drunk and you close your eyes and the wold starts spinning and you have the choice to fight it or hang on for the ride.
as for zen philosophy, i am woefully ignorant. i can't remember what movie it is in (and i can't even find it using google, which i can't understand, unless i'm actually thinking about a dream of mine, in which case it would make sense that it's not on google...if it turns out to be a dream, then i am even smarter than i thought...especially since i may actually be paraphrasing MYSELF!!! how smart [or narcissistic] do you have to be to start paraphrasing yourself?) when they quote some philosopher's view that the perfect love affair would involve being madly in love with a girl in the peak of her beauty and having her die so that all of the piss and shit and lies never have a chance to appear (it sounds existential...perhaps sartre?) i take it that this is pretty similar to what mishima is saying. for my money though, there are so many different sorts of love, each of them triggered by such disparate situations and i'd like to believe that i will one day get to wade through many of them with someone amazing. like you, i manage to be some weird sort of jaded romantic.
send me your address and i will mail you a copy of BLF.
also, i've always dug your writing too. i've thought many times how lucky it was that chas managed to land such great roommates and how i have completely reaped the benefits as well. i'm for it. i would absolutely list you and mike among my best friends. being as i don't even refer to most of my acquaintances as 'friends', the term 'best friends' carries an awful lot of weight from me...here's to ssu!
also, the mesh on my golf bag looks scarily like olmec and i can't stop staring at it.
Extra kudos for the Spanish guitar music. Especially Stairway. That is the first and only cover of Stairway that I've ever heard that I will endorse.
rodrigo y gabriella are awesome. i tried to show them to you at your house one time, but you were too drunk to focus.
4e. Ronnie 1 year, two months later.
It is ironic that my post to this blog has become a sort-of sad tribute the last blissful shred of my ignorance, at least with regards to that situation. Particularly given the topic of saving old pics, ticket stubs, mementos, etc. It also seems to tie in with Kundera, The Book of Laughter and Forgetting. Maybe it's time I revisit Kundera, or read some of his other books.
It would be easy to look at myself at the time of the above post and call myself stupid. However, I don't think that was necessarily the case. I was apparently aware of the risks, and the outright probability that things wouldn't work out. I suppose the fact that the risks of living are great and that life can be scary should not deter one from experiencing everything that life has to offer. The good and the bad.
"True beauty, to be preserved throughout all eternity, must be struck down at its height, because time inevitably deteriorates everything.
So maybe I'm afraid of the loss of love, or worse, the slow deterioration of love."
The slow deterioration of love was definitely the most painful part now that I think about it. Perhaps my desire not to be serious about anyone but myself for the next decade really stems from my fear of being hurt again. I know that it's going to be years before I can trust anyone that much, at least among those who haven't already earned it.
A wise music blog proprietor recently said, "How sad would it be to get to the end of your life and not have any scars to show for it?"
Now that is probably paraphrasing, and I know it is taken out of context. However, sometimes those little random bits of wisdom stick out and resonate with you even if that's not how they were originally intended.
I'll end with the following quotation that also has resonated very well with me lately.
"It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat."
Yes, it would be a terrible shame to reach the end of your life and not have any scars.
Do not count me among those who have never / will never taste victory or defeat. I strive to achieve victory, I will accept and overcome defeat, but I will not settle for leading a mediocre life.