Wednesday, December 20, 2006

dude...seriously, this isn't better than watching scrubs in the hot tub

i have yet to decide what music to post, so that will come after the following rant:



caption: "I'm sorry!"

worst movie i have seen in i don't know how long. five minutes of complete boredom followed by some random piece of violence followed by ten minutes of boredom...rinse, repeat. it was like being jabbed in the eye with a dull spear...dulled from stabbing so many eyes accross the nation.

only the second time in my life that i tried to fall asleep during a movie.

top ten things that apocalypto taught me (besides the 'fern gully' moral):

1) human sacrifices are gross.
2) jungles are dangerous (in the most deus ex machina ways imaginable.)
3) mayans can run fast...all of them...except the women who only give birth   and cry.
4) scalping is gross.
5) mayan balls are gross.
6) impotence is funny in all cultures.
7) mel gibson likes gore.
8) throat slitting is gross.
9) jaguar mauling is gross.
10) mel needs police officers in front of him to say anything of interest.



music you say? how about something from the isles?




fionn regan.   put a penny in the slot.

i know what you're thinking (maybe)...an irishman with a guitar, time for sadness. not so! in addition to having my favorite name in the world, he posseses a sort of folky, wag your head side-to-side, joy--mixed with a bit of sadness.

i don't often quote other talented music writers, because they make me look like a public school kid (wait...), but this write-up on fionn is fantastic:

"Just a boy with an acoustic guitar. Not a man: a boy. A lad. A kid. And it's a very subtle thing that makes a given boy-with-guitar a something-special. Something I can't quite put my finger on: something about character and wit and voice and lightness of touch. Something about, it seems to me, corduroy and jeans, bright apples, brick, pussywillows and the colour green. What separated Elliott Smith from ten thousand imitators? Dylan from ten million? It's hard to say.

But I kind of, like, genuinely think Fionn Regan might have it. It's not the guitar-playing - though he's truly capable. It's not the voice - though it's got a bluebottle ring that recalls The Weakerthans' John K Samson. It's not just the lyrics - though these make me think of John Updike. It's all these things, and none of them. It's the way he is meditative without being slow; wry without being clever; sad and glad. I can almost, actually, imagine Elliott Smith doing a music like this - had he not been so deep in his own sorrows, had he been a little more indebted to "Eleanor Rigby" than "Dear Prudence"."

-Sean from Said the Gramophone




Alasdair Roberts.   River Rhine.

I don't really feel like writing this one. this is who i really really wanted to see with joanna newsom, but he left the tour three shows before i saw her. lame. even those of you who liked 'smog' (only one person in the whole world, i'm thinking) would rather have seen alisdair.
i suppose i could just crib Sean at StG again, since that's where i heard this track. hmmmm....i really recommend that you check out Said the Gramophone...it is one of the most consistent mp3 blogs out there.

"There are madrigals, rounds, quatrains, sonnets, all sorts of names for songs and poems. And I want to add another name to this list: "a kindness". I'm not sure I can put into words what a "kindness" is, but for examples please look at the work that Alasdair Roberts has been recording for years. The Glaswegian sings traditional folk songs in a coaxing, asking, gentle voice - and he plays his guitar in colours gold and copper. This song is taken from his upcoming album The Amber Gatherers, which is very good, and one of the most special things therein is the use of drums. Brushes, claps, hits, hushes - a splash-and-slap undertone to the softness of the other sounds. "River Rhine" is no exception: the only thing better than the drums is the rest. It's one of the sweetest love-songs i can remember, hewn in rhymes and finger-picked guitar. When Alasdair says "...she sees The Clyde in mine," another guitar coming to life, my heart rolls over in my chest to stare wistfully up at clouds."



wow...that was probably the easiest blog ever. i should always just make fun of movies and plagarize the music stuff.

i'm pretty bored a lot.

tomorrow is my bd. hm.