Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts

Friday, January 01, 2010

Shows I've seen in 2010

  • The Current's Five-Year Anniversary Party (Lookbook, Mason Jennings, POS, & Solid Gold) - January 29 (First Avenue)
  • The Avett Brothers  - March 5 (First Avenue) 
  • Vampire Weekend - March 22 (First Avenue)
  • Dan and Matt Wilson - March 26 (Pantages Theatre)
  • Rogue Valley - April 10 (Fitzgerald Theater) 
  • Owl City - May 1 (State Theatre)
  • Mumford and Sons - May 25 (Varsity Theater)
  • Basilica Block Party (Rogue Valley, Spoon, and Weezer) - July 9 (Basilica of St. Mary)
  • Josh Ritter w/the Minnesota Orchestra - July 15 (Orchestra Hall)
  • The National - August 6 (First Avenue)
  • Local Natives - October 1 (First Avenue)
  • Benefit for Brad Kern (Semisonic, Mason Jennings, Jeremy Messersmith, Twilight Hours, etc.) - October 8 (First Avenue)
  • Rock of Ages - October 23 (Orpheum Theatre)
  • Spring Awakening - November 7 (Orpheum Theatre)
  • Cloud Cult - November 18 (First Avenue)
  • The New Standards - December 3 (Fitzgerald Theater)


    Wednesday, September 30, 2009

    Take a sad song and make it better

    The radio station I listen to has been celebrating The Beatles all month, in honor of that remastered collection thing that you probably heard about, unless you've been living under a rock or perhaps don't listen to a station that decided to talk about The Beatles all month. Tonight, the whole thing culminated in a countdown of the top 50 Beatles songs, as ranked by listeners. (Or rather, as ranked by the listeners who actually took the time to vote. I did not, but obviously that won't stop me from complaining about the results.) It was a reasonably solid list... not that I am any sort of expert on Beatles discography and therefore qualified to weigh in on this, and maybe the fact that I am not a Beatles expert accounts for my reaction when they played the number 1 song. Hey Jude? Really?? The song that starts out promising enough but then ends with approximately nine and a half gratingly repetitive minutes of "Na, na, na, na-na-na-na! Na-na-na-na! Hey-ay Jude. (JudyJudyJudyJudeJudyJude!)"? That song? Better than all other Beatles songs? OK then.

    It occurs to me that my dad once voiced that exact same complaint about Hey Jude, so now of course I am terrified I may be turning into my father. Next thing you know, I'll be driving as if every other car on the road is invisible, bringing my own spoon to restaurants, and spouting off about how that Rush Limbaugh really knows what he's talking about. Yeesh. Perish the thought.

    In truth, I don't really have a problem with Hey Jude, but best Beatles song of all? Hardly. Of course, now I have to tell you what IS the best Beatles song, which is bound to be a bad idea, because at least 96% of you will disagree with me, and at least half of that 96% will actually lose respect for me because of my disturbingly bad choice. Or so I've been led to believe the few times this topic has come up in the past. Some people are serious about their Beatles cred. It may be on par with the pop/soda divide.

    So I won't tell you what the best Beatles song is. Instead, I will tell you what my favorite Beatles song is. And then I will explain why it is my favorite, in an effort to calm whichever among you will tell me it is not a valid choice.

    My favorite Beatles song is Yesterday. Not because it is lovely and sad (though it is) and not because I have a scratchy old version of it on a tape that my little sister once dubbed for me--a version that ends with Paul saying, "Thank you, Ringo; that was wonderful," which for some reason makes me smile. My favorite Beatles song is Yesterday because every time I hear it, I remember winding my way up the narrow staircase that circles the interior of Brunelleschi's dome in Il Duomo, the Florence Cathedral. I remember climbing to the top of that dome during the spring break of my semester abroad, with two German boys walking the steps in front of me, singing Yesterday to amuse themselves. Wait. Were they German? They may not have been German. All I remember is that English was not their first language, and as such, one of them mangled the lyrics into something entirely unrecognizable as English words. I know I have mangled some Spanish over the years; I once tried to sing the Tortilla Song that I learned in high school Spanish to a bartender in Cozumel, and though I was confident I was remembering all the words just right, he had no idea whatsoever what I was singing about. Mangled English I'm less familiar with. It's hard to imagine mangled versions of a language you know well. So when I heard the German teenager singing Yesterday and injecting words that were not words, my ears perked up in confusion and surprise. So did the teenager's friend's, because he whirled around immediately to correct him. "Half the man! Half the man!" he sputtered, one hand pounding the other for emphasis. After that chiding, the poor kid looked like half the man he used to be. But still, he kept on singing.

    So when I hear Yesterday, I think of Florence. I think of exploring new places and learning new things and realizing the simultaneous fear and exhilaration of being in another country and knowing there is no one on the planet who knew exactly where I was at any given moment. And I think of those two boys in Brunelleschi's dome and I wonder what lyrics they are mangling these days.

    Incidentally, Yesterday came in at #11 on the radio listeners' poll, so obviously I am not the only one for whom that song holds a special place. At #12 was In My Life, which is my second-favorite Beatles song (by a very close margin). I don't have a story to go with that one. I've just always liked it is all.

    I wasn't actually planning on talking about the Beatles tonight. I certainly wasn't planning on talking about them for seven paragraphs. No, I was going to talk about my second vacation in the course of a month. Remember? I was so overdue for a vacation that I decided to take two? So last weekend was my long weekend in L.A., where it was ridiculously hot and where I saw more of the highways than of anything else (which, as far as I can tell, is about as accurate a picture of L.A. as one can get), but where I had an excellent time with some excellent friends nonetheless. I went to visit Darren and Heather (who some of you may remember from Look at Me... and Nabbalicious fame). I went with my friend Melissa, who lives in Minneapolis but who I had to meet through another blog friend in California (everybody's favorite tech support and car repair guru, Steve, who is the reason Heather and Darren know Melissa as well). See what a small world it is? Look at the Internet, bringing people together even after their blogs are long defunct. It's almost like... REAL LIFE. Crazy thought.

    Anyway, we had a hilarious time. Seriously, I do not remember the last time I laughed so much in a 72-hour span. We went to the observatory in Rebel without a Cause. I saw the beach club that served as 90210's Beverly Hill's Beach Club. (Or was it the beach club that everyone worked at on Saved by the Bell? Were they actually the same beach club? My memory of them is the same.) I had my first In-n-Out burger. I celebrated Guinness's 250th birthday. I lost a bar fight because I had only one arm. We had Darren's famous Cincinnati chili and Roscoe's famous chicken & waffles. We took pictures of creepy statues. And we made more terrible "That's what she said" jokes than Michael Scott has made on all five seasons of The Office thus far. Also, we learned all sorts of interesting things about each other. I learned that Melissa is an exhibitionist and that Heather hates Colonial Williamsburg. (She has a point: Why do Americans need their history safe and spoonfed, like Applebee's and network sitcoms?) In turn, they learned that I spent $18 on a bottle of deodorant, because the Internet told me to.

    In short, I had so much fun that I don't even mind coming home with a cold that's left me feeling weak and stuffy for days. I probably picked it up on the plane, but since Heather was sick when we got there and Melissa was sick by the time we left, we've decided we must be passing it along to one another in batches, like Amish Friendship Bread. It is the Amish Friendship Cold. Who wants it next, folks? I've got plenty of germs to share, and plenty of Internet friends I'd love to see. Come on over!

    Friday, July 10, 2009

    And I thought the last one would have made a good imaginary "How we met" story...

    People, I have a situation. It's not a pretty one. I am typing at the moment from a chair in my front yard, not because I enjoy putting myself on display for my neighborhood, all, "Hey, look at me! I am a single woman with nothing better to do on a Friday night than sit outside with a glass of wine and a laptop!" but because I am too horrified to tuck myself away unnoticed in my backyard.

    It seems having a squirrel give up the ghost in my backyard wasn't a one-time thing. There must be some sort of anti-squirrel predator or force field in the area between my neighbor's fence and my back walkway, because another dead squirrel is now lying only about five feet away from where the previous one went belly up. This one is on my property, so I don't feel particularly right asking my neighbor to remove it for me. Unfortunately, it's also much more vile than the previous one. Suddenly I'm not sure why I was so terrified to deal with that first squirrel, because I realize now that I would have rather touched that one with my bare hands than scoop the scattered remains of this one up even with a ten-foot-long shovel. I'm really trying to spare you the graphic details. I'm failing, so I'd better just move on.

    And oh, look at that. I left my post for five minutes to duck back in my house, and now there is a bug in my wine glass. Fantastic. Bugs in my wine, crows circling overhead, flies swarming in on a revolting target a mere 30 feet away... Perhaps outdoor blogging isn't as appealing as I thought it might be. Think I'll move this party back inside after all.

    So then. Focusing on more pleasant thoughts. Last night Josh Ritter was in town, so Carrie and I went to the Varsity Theater to see one of our favorite (Carrie went so far as to say "the original") Boy Meets Guitar. Our pal Lisa was supposed to join us, but unfortunately she had a doctor's appointment earlier in the day that unexpectedly ended with a staple being deliberately put in her head (ouch), and I can't particularly blame her for not feeling up to a concert night after that. (Look at me; I have finally veered away from dead rodents and now I am talking about surgical staples. Aren't you glad you clicked this link in your feed reader today?)

    ANYWAY, as usual, Josh did not disappoint. I've already told this story once, but it was two years ago, so allow me to tell you again what's so very special about this boy. The first time I saw him, it was amid a crowd of fewer than 40 people, many of whom had probably wandered into the club having no idea who they were going to see, taking the chance that their $5 cover charge would not be a bust. Lisa and I were there on Carrie's recommendation. She was living in Chicago at the time, and she emailed us to say that a dude worth seeing was coming to our town, and we should go to his show. So we went, and we liked what we heard, and after the show, Josh milled about selling CDs and handing out promotional postcards, so we talked to him for a bit. Despite the small crowd, Josh was thrilled that we were there. "Thank you SO MUCH for coming!" he gushed. "How did you hear about the show?" When we told him our friend in Chicago had recommended it, he wanted to sign a postcard for her. But he didn't just sign it; he thanked her for sending us, and he wrote, "Stefanie is gorgeous, and Lisa is the belle of the ball!" We were both smitten. "I've never been the belle of the ball before!" Lisa said. The boy was just a young pup at the time, but he knew how to charm the ladies.

    Since then, I've seen Josh nearly every time he's come to town, and each time, the crowd is larger and more dedicated. He's now successful enough that there are Josh Ritter tribute bands (in Ireland, apparently), but he's still just as grateful someone's there to listen. That wide-eyed enthusiasm hasn't faded; the grin on his face has only grown wider. I suppose it's possible that underneath that stage presence, he is an insufferable diva, a volatile force I would never want to know in person, but I don't want to believe that is the case. As far as I am concerned, he is a nice boy from Idaho who says "Please" and "Thank you," who, despite his success, is still sort of awe-struck that people will actually pay money to come and hear him play, to see him do what presumably he loves best.

    It's hard to watch him and not develop a bit of a crush, and Carrie and I are certainly not immune. Last night's show was at the same venue where I met the MPR reporter as a discussion panelist, so Carrie turned to me mid-set and said, "I think you should make a habit of picking up anyone you see on the stage at the Varsity."

    It's a compelling suggestion, but somehow I think asking Josh Ritter out for a drink via email might be even less successful than asking an MPR reporter out turned out to be. Of course, I may not actually have to send such an email, as this is the information age, and I have had a blog and a Sitemeter account long enough to know that even on the smallest and least notable of web sites, any words you type about a celebrity do not go unnoticed. No, thanks to Google Alerts and Technorati, Josh Ritter's publicist, or perhaps even Josh Ritter himself, will likely read this within a few short days of my clicking that "Publish Post" button. I sure am glad I talked about inside-out squirrels and head staples in the same post as the lyrical genius of young Mr. Ritter. (Message to Josh: Hi there! Call me!) Sigh.

    Tuesday, April 14, 2009

    We've come a long way since the Flowbee

    It was brought to my attention on that last post that many of you are not familiar with Mates of State. Let's remedy that, shall we? Yes, yes, I know you all hate video posts, but take a quick look when your coworkers aren't near enough to notice you're not working, OK?



    I had other things I was going to tell you this evening... like that the new-to-me laptop I've been so excited about seems to have become possessed already but that I lack the techno-prowess to know what to do about it and hence, am attempting to solve it like I solve so many problems in my life: by ignoring it in the hopes that the problem goes away on its own. Or that my pal Carrie and I went to an MPR & Citizens League event tonight and both simultaneously developed a crush on the MPR reporter who was a panelist for the event, and that we are considering inviting him to our next party (or even perhaps planning a party solely so we can invite him).

    I was going to tell you these things and possibly more, but I spent the time I would have spent typing that talking to Lara instead, and now it is time for bed. Lara fully supports that party idea, by the way, and even went so far as to suggest we call it an M-P-R-ty. Heh. Lara may have been inhaling fumes from her Ukranian egg decorating supplies when she cracked that joke, but I have to admit I lack any similar excuse for laughing at it.

    Do you remember in old movies, when a long distance phone call was a major event? When people scheduled calls and had operators put them through, and a hush fell over the entire house because "Mr. So-and-So is on the phone, from NEW YORK! LONG DISTANCE!"? I don't want to imply that a phone call from Lara is not an event, but I do appreciate the fact that the air of formality over a long distance call has long since dropped. I mean, while we talked, Lara was dyeing Ukranian eggs, and I decided to read her the questions on Mental Floss's "SkyMall Product or Rejected Invention Patent?" quiz. It was probably exactly what we would have been doing if we were chatting in the same room together, instead of several states away. Ah, the wonders of technology.

    Speaking of technology, allow me to present my favorite answer on the "SkyMall Product or Rejected Invention Patent" quiz. Mental Floss pitted the "Cool Steps" self-cooling footwear against the "The NECKpro over-door cervical traction device," and it nearly stumped both of us. I mean, a miniature air compressor in each shoe does sound a tad ridiculous, but so does an at-home traction device. Aren't there some things that should not be do-it-yourself ventures? I would have assumed cervical traction fell solidly in that category, along with at-home dental work and chiropracty. Alas, no. Behold: the NECKpro...



    It's no personal mini-donut maker, but every product has its niche, I suppose.

    Monday, April 13, 2009

    I wonder if he'd wanna be a manta ray

    So then. I hope everyone had a lovely weekend. I hear there was a holiday of some sort yesterday, but it's hard for me to get particularly worked up over any holiday that does not involve a free day off of work, so it was pretty much just an average Sunday to me. Well, average except for the late morning brunch with friends, which perhaps should be a routine part of every weekend, but is not, given that it conflicts with both my desire to stay in bed as late as I feel like on weekends and my desire not to spend any more money than I already spend on social plans with friends.

    Regardless, I had a fine time yesterday. Our urban orphans and heathens Easter brunch gets a little more top shelf every year. The whole tradition started four years ago when my sister and I were at Nye's Polonaise (best bar in America!) with some friends for my birthday and she spotted the Easter brunch flier on our table. Neither of us planned to go home for the holiday, and we decided it would be fun to gather our friends for the sort of traditional old school supper club buffet we would be partaking in if we were making the six-hour drive to attend church and dinner with our parents. In my mind, it was exactly what a holiday meal should be (or rather, for better or worse, what a holiday meal always has been, and as such, it had a homey and nostalgic appeal), but a certain foodie friend of mine who shall remain nameless (ahem) to this day cannot get past the cheese cubes and deli slices served on the appetizer table, and hence, we've sought out swankier digs in the years since.

    This year took us to Vincent (sorry; Vincent: A RESTAURANT! That subtitle is obviously important, as it is everywhere, including in the outgoing voicemail message that plays when you call to modify your reservation), where I correctly predicted all of the choices the aforementioned foodie friend would make from the prix-fixe menu, while I, on the other hand, thwarted the efforts of anyone who might have attempted the same guessing game for my selections by choosing both eggs(!) AND fish(!) with my meal. If only I had ordered the mushroom-heavy buckwheat crepes as well, my entire table might have passed out from the shock (or at the very least, examined the base of my skull for evidence of some type of alien implantation). Alas, let us never assume I am always a creature of habit, too set in her ways to entertain the idea of trying new things. Despite my life-long hatred of eggs, I discovered last summer that Eggs Benedict is actually quite tasty, so I chose that over the fruit-topped waffles for my second course yesterday. And for my third course, I bypassed the safe-sounding spring vegetable risotto and went out on a limb and ordered the pan-seared skate wing instead. Skate is a fish, in case like me, you didn't know that. And no, fish don't have wings, but apparently skate is a member of the ray family, so essentially I ate something akin to the wing-like fin of a stingray or manta ray for brunch. According to my friends, it was spectacular, but apparently eggs and skate in the same meal is a bit too far out of the comfort zone for me, because for the rest of the day, my stomach felt a bit off. You know, sort of like I'd just eaten runny egg yolk and rubbery manta ray. No long-term harm done, of course. We'll call it a learning experience. Yesterday I learned I don't like skate wings. Knowledge is power, friends.

    All that said, for the most part, our entire brunch was delicious, and I really should revisit Vincent (A RESTAURANT!) for their much-hyped happy hour sometime soon.

    A few hours after brunch, I was off to the Varsity Theater to cap off the final part of my three-concert week. Both Lily Allen and Mates of State put on an excellent show, by the way. I still sort of can't believe the latter played to a sold-out crowd in a respectably sized venue. I am about to sound like one of those high and mighty music fans who says "Well I saw Nirvana back when they opened for... [whoever Nirvana opened for when no one had heard of them yet]" (See? Totally not that kind of music snob at all. And yet...) The first time I saw Mates of State was over another Easter weekend, probably close to ten years ago now. I'd made plans to go out with my friend Kristina that Saturday evening. If I remember correctly, we were headed to First Avenue for a Mason Jennings show. (Mason Jennings, by the way, married a girl who was at several of the same parties I attended my senior year of high school. That would be a more impressive bit of trivia if it were Mason himself and not his now wife, or if there were actually any chance whatsoever that said wife might actually remember who I am, and yet for some reason I bring it up anyway.) We were headed to see Mason Jennings in First Avenue's main room, but the band playing later in the much smaller adjacent 7th Street Entry was one Kristina had heard on a new music sampler that came with a magazine she subscribed to at the time, and she decided that for an extra five bucks, we should check out that show while we were there as well.

    I remember an inordinate number of strange details from that evening. I remember Kristina bargaining with the door man, who insisted we were not allowed to leave and re-enter once we'd paid, and yet who let us leave for an hour to visit The Saloon anyway. The Saloon is a gay bar, for those of you not in the Twin Cities and therefore not aware, and I remember that while at The Saloon, we saw a promotional performance by the Twin Cities Gay Men's Chorus of their newest production, which was an all-Abba review. I also remember using The Saloon's computers and free Internet access to drunk-email the friend who would later become my boyfriend, because I thought he would find the whole evening entirely amusing. And after we'd done all of that (and likely also used the completely empty women's restroom at the gay bar), we went back to the 7th Street Entry, where we saw Mates of State perform in a room barely larger than my living room, to a crowd of fewer than 30 people. They were good, and I wondered if I'd ever hear of them again, and lo, here I am, years later, spending another Easter weekend with the Mates of State, but doing so with a whole lot more company than last time. Also, doing so entirely more sober than last time, as one more thing I remember about that evening was crashing on Kristina's futon and waking up on Easter Sunday very glad I didn't have to rally myself off to church with my family that day.

    Another thing I remember about that Easter Saturday so many years ago is that I received a birthday gift from Kristina that night. She bought me a house plant that, in the tipsy ridiculousness that followed three gin and tonics (which were also a new introduction to me that night--I insisted that gin tasted like pine needles, and Kristina insisted that I give it a chance anyway), we decided should be named Menos. Menos. As in, the Spanish word for "minus," which I believe came up only because Kristina asked me what time it was, and for some reason, I decided to answer her in Spanish. "Son las diez menos quarto," I said. And suddenly, "Menos" was the funniest word in the world to her. "Menos! Menos!" she cried. "You should name your plant Menos!" And so I did. And because not too long after that, Kristina moved away and essentially fell out of my life, that plant is still alive and growing atop a shelf in the corner of my kitchen today. I've realized, you see, that plants from friends who aren't particularly important to me are the only plants I can successfully keep alive. The peace lily from my good friends Dale and Jenny (the one that came with a Last Will and Testament, such is my reputation for bad luck with plants) died within a matter of weeks. The flowering plant my former good friend Julie gave me? It met a similar fate. But the mish-mosh of breeds in a planter from an old coworker of mine? (The strange many-in-one plant that I aptly named Clusterfuck?) That one is still thriving, as is Menos, even though sadly, my friendship with Kristina is not.

    I had to mention Dale and Jenny by name in that last paragraph, by the way, because I sent Dale an email last week, wherein I was hesitant to rattle on about any stories from my life of late because I knew there was a chance he'd already read those stories himself. I don't know how regularly he checks in on my blog, but I know he stops by from time to time, and I wasn't sure how recently he'd done so. "I still read your blog," he said in his reply. "But mainly I'm just looking for stories about me or your dad's snack cabinet." No snack cabinet in this post, obviously, but at least you got your mention, Dale.

    Speaking of Dale, he really should get his own blog, as I'm certain he has ample fodder for it at home. The other day, his two-year-old apparently proclaimed, "I don't wanna be a robot!" That's a story I'd want to hear the rest of; wouldn't you?

    Thursday, January 01, 2009

    Shows I've seen in 2009

    • Rhett Miller - February 8 (Fine Line)
    • Morrissey - April 6 (State Theater)
    • Lily Allen - April 11 (First Avenue)
    • Mates of State (w/Black Kids) - April 12 (Varsity Theater)
    • Neko Case (w/Crooked Fingers) - April 26 (State Theater)
    • Dan Wilson - April 30 (Whole Music Club)
    • Cloud Cult - May 2 (First Avenue)
    • Bob Schneider - June 10 (Varsity Theater)
    • Local Natives & Blind Pilot - June 17 (400 Bar)
    • Solid Gold, Yeasayer, Calexico, & The Decemberists - June 20 (Rock the Garden, Walker Art Center)
    • Josh Ritter - July 9 (Varsity Theater)
    • The National - July 16 (First Avenue)
    • Old 97s - July 19 (First Avenue)
    • Halloween Alaska - July 20 (Loring Park)
    • Jenny Lewis - July 21 (Fine Line)
    • Fleet Foxes - August 9 (First Avenue)
    • Dar Williams (w/Haley Bonar and Stephen Kellogg) - August 21 (Minnesota Zoo)
    • Mark Mallman - September 5 (First Avenue)
    • Regina Spektor - September 11 (State Theater)
    • Phoenix - September 22 (First Avenue)
    • They Might Be Giants - November 3 (First Avenue)
    • The Swell Season - December 5 (State Theater)
    • Andrew Bird - December 10 (St. Mark's Cathedral)

    Sunday, August 03, 2008

    Sunday Six Musical Mix

    Hello, friends. It goes without saying, of course, but how about one more round of applause for our pal NPW and her mad creative vision and organizational skillz? By presumably all accounts, CYOB 2.0 was a rousing success. Wasn't that fun? I thought so. Bravo. Energetic golf claps all around to all involved.

    It's been a busy weekend here, and I have a busy week ahead, but I did want to post something to keep you occupied for the next few days. Unfortunately, both my mental and physical energy are a bit drained at the moment. Seems like a good time for a "just post a link" sort of thing. And since Friday's CYOB adventures meant no Friday Five around these parts, how about a Sunday Six instead?

    Six Songs I've Been Digging Lately

    1. Haley Bonar - Something Great
      Do those of you not Twin Cities-based know about Haley Bonar yet? She is spritely and adorable and is the songstress behind the latest "I simply must dance around my living room right now" song. Unfortunately, the available videos of this one are scarce, but you can check out her MySpace page for more and clearer photos and clips. Meanwhile, here's the song that's got me bopping wherever I am whenever it comes on.



    2. Billy Bragg - M for Me
      I have been digging the whole of Mr. Love and Justice, actually, but this one in particular is one of my favorites.



    3. Fleet Foxes - White Winter Hymnal
      Um, do I need some sort of commentary for all of these? I'm gonna go with "No." Just enjoy this song in its loveliness, OK?



    4. Aimee Mann - Borrowing Time
      Aimee Mann is one of those artists I very much enjoy seeing live and yet, for whatever reason rarely queue up on my iFraud or listen to on CD. In person, however, she is smart and funny and seemingly very comfortable building crowd rapport, and I highly recommend you check her out the next time she is in your town. Her latest single Borrowing Time might not have struck me significantly, had I not heard her launch into a nearly ten-minute story about the birth of the song when I saw her at the Minnesota Zoo earlier this summer. I can't find an embeddable video of the song online, but a similar version of that ten-minute story is here...



      As for the song itself, click through and listen to a brief advertisement here, and the song should begin momentarily.

    5. Feist - I Feel it All
      What's that I said about no commentary on some of these? Same goes for this one, I guess.



    6. Mika - Grace Kelly
      Like a few others in this list, this song isn't new. I first heard it on a compilation CD my boss got as a holiday gift from a client. She perused the track list and said, "I've never heard of any of these songs," and promptly offered the disc to me. This track was one of my favorites. I'm remembering it lately because my favorite radio station has been playing another Mika song in regular rotation. You should check that one out as well. Perhaps this should be a Sunday Seven. First, Grace Kelly...



      Next up, Love Today...





    All right. I'll be back later in the week... after a few more social outings, including maybe or maybe not a neighborhood block party. See, that's the problem with asking the Internet if I should attend some particular event. The Internet says "Go!" and yet wallflower me isn't so sure she has the nerve. We shall see.

    Friday, January 04, 2008

    More than a day late, more than a dollar short

    I am well aware that all my end-of-year sum-it-up posting should have been done last week. Christmas trees are down (well, mine isn't, but I am a week behind, after all*) and we are solidly into January, so I really should move on to 2008 already. But since last week was one of those spans where I temporarily forgot I had a blog (and also because CenterPoint Energy actually came early for my scheduled meter inspection today, meaning I really should do a very brief post and get myself to work rather than leisurely wile away what I thought would be a few hours waiting for them), I am going to do one more end-of-'07 post anyway. And then maybe I'll talk about something equally timely--you know, like LiLo's** stint in rehab or Paris Hilton crying on her way to the pokey.

    That said, on to a one-week-late Friday Five.


    My top five movies of 2007
    (in no real particular order and bearing in mind that I didn't see half the movies I should have seen in '07, so Oscar will most certainly disagree with me on these)
    1. Once
    2. Juno
    3. Waitress
    4. Knocked up
    5. The Simpsons Movie
    6. Superbad
    OK, that is actually six, but I can't decide which of those last four to switch to a tie or honorable mention spot, so six it is, I guess.

    Next up, I was going to list my top five books of 2007, but I actually only read a sad, measly 11 books during the year, so it hardly seems fair to highlight damn-near half of them. So I'll just say the top spots go easily to Eat Pray Love and Tolstoy Lied and leave it at that. (Incidentally, I realize neither of those books were actually published in 2007. Everything about this post is late, so why should that matter?)

    And finally, let's talk music. I could spend hours agonizing over my top five songs of the year, but that would defeat the purpose of knocking out a quick post and getting my ass to the office already. Also, it would put me in the same sad category as that guy in Nick Hornby's High Fidelity, and really, nobody wants to be that guy. So off the top of my head, with the request that you please not hold me to all of these indefinitely, here are...

    Maybe my top five songs of 2007
    1. Band of Horses, No One's Gonna Love You
    2. Feist, 1234
    3. The National, Start a War
    4. Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova (from the Once soundtrack), Falling Slowly
    5. Lily Allen, LDN

    See, now I'm already trying to revise my list, because frankly, much as I loved Lily Allen earlier this year, I'm feeling sort of done with her now, and I just heard Gomez's See the World on the radio and remembered how much I really, really liked that one, too (even if it did maybe come out in 2006 and not 2007, actually). And Rilo Kiley! Breaking up! I still dance around my living room whenever that one comes on, so how can I leave that out? Sigh. This is why I don't make Top Five lists. I give up.

    All right then. Off to work. Happy Friday (and, of course, again, Happy 2008) to you all.



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    * Also, I was raised Catholic, which means I can leave the little tree up until the Epiphany on January 6 and say it's for religious reasons.

    ** Note to Carrie, Jamie, and anyone else who lives in a world void of trash pop culture: LiLo = Lindsay Lohan. You're welcome.
    -----------------------------------------------------------------



    Wednesday, January 02, 2008

    Shows I've seen in 2008

    • Avenue Q - January 6 (State Theater)

    • The Bird and the Bee - January 10 (Varsity Theater)

    • Super Diamond - January 24 (Fine Line)

    • Bell X1 - March 20 (Varsity Theater)

    • Bob Schneider - May 2 (Fine Line)

    • Devotchka - May 7 (First Avenue)

    • Old 97s - June 4 (First Avenue)

    • Iron & Wine - June 11 (First Avenue)

    • Aimee Mann & Ben Kweller - June 12 (MN Zoo)

    • Romantica - June 19 (Mill City Museum)

    • Rock the Garden (Bon Iver, Cloud Cult, New Pornographers, and Andrew Bird) - June 21 (Walker Art Center)

    • She & Him - August 7 (First Avenue)

    • Romantica & Haley Bonar- September 5 (Mears Park - Concrete and Grass Festival)

    • Chris Koza - September 5 (Mears Park - Concrete and Grass Festival)

    • They Might Be Giants - September 12 (First Avenue)

    • Dar Williams (and Shawn Mullins) - September 22 (Guthrie Theater)

    • Mason Jennings - October 18 (The Orpheum)

    • David Sedaris - October 19 (State Theater)

    • Ingrid Michaelson w/David Ford and Newton Faulker - November 17 (Pantages)

    • Dan Wilson - December 13 (Pantages)

    Tuesday, January 01, 2008

    Tuesday, November 27, 2007

    T, a drink with jam and bread

    ----------------------------------------
    For an explanation of this alphabet theme, see my first NaBloPoMo post.
    ----------------------------------------

    So I was thinking that T was going to be for technical writer. I was going to talk about what I do and how I ended up not hating technical writing and editing even though it was the one thing I was not going to do with my English degree. (Scratch that. Teaching was the one thing I was not going to do with my English degree. But tech writing was in the list as well.) I was going to write about that, but then I remembered that the whole reason I started a blog in the first place was to encourage myself to write non-technically more often, and just thinking about technical writing in my non-technical forum seems counterproductive. Not to mention boring. To me and all of you.

    Besides that, I have already told you what I do. Remember? I make fake flow charts and explain to grown adults how time zones work. Good times, right?

    Instead then, T is for They Might Be Giants. Why? Because they have consistently ranked as one of my very, very favorites ever since my friend Zoey introduced me to them seventeen years ago. (Remember the opening bars of Flood? "A brand-new record for 1990?" I had that album in 1990. Lordy be, among a lot of you whippersnappers, I am old.)

    Zoey, by the way, is the friend I ran into at the Andrew Bird show I was very late for several months ago, and I am still a little hurt that he apparently didn't want to follow-up and rekindle our long lost friendship. I cannot hold a grudge, however, because without Zoey, I might never have discovered the awesomeness that is John and John--the original (for me) smart and funny nerdy boys. And I do love me a smart and funny nerdy boy.

    I'll admit I have not really kept up with everything Linnell and Flansburgh have done in recent years, but they still make the short list whenever anyone asks that "desert island" question, and they will always have a place in my head (and my music collection). Besides that, the classics are all I need anyway.

    Check it: my very first embedded YouTube clip! Maybe I am a whippersnapper after all. (And speaking of young whippersnappers, check out the baby face on Linnell!)

    Friday, October 19, 2007

    It's late, and I'm title-less, and all I can think of is "Ritter-rific." I'm sorry.

    Well, that poll didn't yield a lot of results, but that's OK. You'll get brain lint another time; right now I want to talk about Josh Ritter.

    First though, I have a grievance to air. Mapquest? You are dead to me. DEAD, I say. Enough of you and your useless, confounding directions, your ridiculous attempts to draw the shortest distance between two points as a jagged diagonal line across side streets and small alleyways instead of taking me down well-known roads that create a more logical route. I know that missing piece of Interstate where a bridge used to be makes your job a bit more complicated these days, but do you really think the best way to get me to the West Bank is on tiny, poorly marked streets on a University campus that were never intended for through-traffic? Because if you ask me, that's just plain dumb, and I think the many pedestrians carelessly meandering about in the area would agree.

    I can't hold myself to this, of course. I know I will continue to take the abuse, to circle near the river aimlessly, to be Mapquest's bitch. Why? Because when I use the alternative, my directions invariably begin three miles from the start point I've identified and/or include roads currently closed for major construction. I can't win, dammit. I'm forced to remain with Mapquest or resort to an old-school paper atlas. No thank you.

    This rant is my way of getting to the fact that I did find my way to the Cedar Cultural Center on Wednesday night, no thanks to Mapquest and whatever useless and evil hamsters keep it running. And luckily, it was a show worth the frustrating and convoluted journey. Thank you, Josh, for that.

    I first saw Josh Ritter back in 2003 (2002? 2004? Frankly, it's all just one big long year). I went over to Fine Line for his set on the recommendation of an out-of-town friend who said, "I'm a sucker for 'boy-plus-guitar,' and he's one of the best I've heard lately. He's coming to your city, and you should go." So my friend Lisa and I went, where we joined a lackluster smattering of attendees, many of whom had likely wandered in sight unseen with no clue what they were paying a cover for that night.

    We each bought CDs and then stood in a rather short line to have them signed. And Josh Ritter was, hands-down, the friendliest, most grateful and enthusiastic musician I've spoken to before. That might mean more if I'd actually met more than a handful of musicians in post-show signings, but I think it holds true nonetheless. "Thank you so much for coming!" he gushed. "How did you hear about the show?" "Thank you for coming!!" he said again. He had promotional postcards for his album on hand, and we had him write one to the out-of-town friend who'd sent us there. "Stefanie is gorgeous," he wrote, "And Lisa is the belle of the ball."

    "I've never been the belle of the ball before!" Lisa mused. Frankly, we were both smitten.

    The next time I saw Josh play, it was in the same venue, but a year or two later. In that time, he'd become big enough abroad to inspire Irish tribute bands and apparently respected enough here to warrant drunk frat boys belting out lyrics on a significantly more crowded dance floor. But through all that, the man seems as enthusiastic about playing, as genuinely thrilled to have an audience, as self-deprecating in his amusing stories as he did in that sparsely attended show as an unknown. And for that, I have to sort of love the guy, in a "he's like your friend's adorable little brother" sort of way. The music industry has far too many jaded, self-important assholes. I refuse to believe Josh Ritter will ever be one of them.

    Anyway, this is supposed to be a Friday Five, so I'd best be getting to the enumerating, I suppose. For lack of any "Five Fun Facts about Josh Ritter" or "Five Annoying Things about the Josh Ritter Show," I'm just going to go with five of my favorite lyrics from his songs. He is a soulful lyrical genius, after all--a Lyrical Gangsta, I suppose, if a nice boy from Idaho could ever qualify as a Gangsta in any way.

    These are almost all from Hello Starling, simply because that's what I listened to on my way to work this morning, but you should check out all his other fine work as well. And you should see him live at your next opportunity. Guinness Girl agrees with me.


    1. From Kathleen: "All the other girls here are stars--you are the Northern Lights." I've always loved this line, as well as another one from this same song: "Every heart is a package tangled up in knots someone else tied."

    2. From You Don't Make It Easy Babe: "Trying hard to love you; you don't make it easy, babe." It's not so much this line I love, but the memory of the story Josh told to precede this song at the first show I saw. He'd been driving across the country, through the flatlands and miles and miles of boring landscape, and he told the crowd that at one point, somewhere in Nebraska (sorry, -R-), he couldn't help but start singing that line to the state. I think of it every time I hear this song. Incidentally, I also really like, "Oh the heart has no bones you say so it won't break, but the purpose of loving is the pounding it takes," which has nothing to do with Nebraska, but is poignant anyway.

    3. From California: "I'm alone, but I'm not lonely." This is sort of my mantra... you know, along with that whole kayak thing.

    4. From Snow Is Gone: "It's been a long time coming but now the snow is gone." My affinity for this one is more about the vibrancy and enthusiasm in this song than about the lyrics themselves. Anyone in Minnesota or Wisconsin surely appreciates the sentiment. "Play this song and you will really believe spring is upon us," one reviewer at Amazon wrote. True, sure, but I think it's also not just about snow clearing and spring coming. Dusting off the old and breaking way for the new goes beyond that, I think, in this case.

    5. From Come and Find Me: "You don't know it's right until it's wrong; You don't know it's yours until it's gone; I didn't know that it was home 'til you up and left." I don't really have anything more to say about this; it just resonates in some way, I guess.

    So. Josh Ritter. Check him out, particularly live. This isn't a music blog for a reason (namely, that I suck at describing music or musicians in any meaningful way), but I just thought I needed to share that with all of you.

    Friday, March 23, 2007

    Friday Five: Five songs I cannot stop listening to*

    There's a music meme going around lately, wherein you're supposed to list seven (or more, if you're Poppy) songs that you're particularly into right now. I honestly cannot think of seven songs on my must-hear list, mostly because aside from when I'm at the gym, I am primarily a radio gal, and the radio station I listen to** makes a deep and concerted effort to avoid frequent repetition of the same songs multiple times a day (or even a week). With that sort of variety, it's hard to fixate on any one thing too much. That said, however, here are five songs to which I currently cannot stop listening.


    1. Another Train (The Poozies) - I had never heard of The Poozies (They do not even have a Wikipedia page! Even my neighbor has a Wikipedia page! But that's a story for a different time...), but my good friend Guinness Girl included this song as the lead track on the famous GG mix she wrote about a while back, and I immediately fell in love with it. I have memorized all but approximately three words of the lyrics (which are awesome, by the way... not just the three words I keep forgetting, I mean, but all of the lyrics combined), and I routinely belt them out in my car, onlookers be-damned. I am a terrible singer, and yet, this is such an easy song to sing along with, I can actually fancy myself (briefly, anyway) a pitch-perfect harmonizer. Also, I cannot listen to this song just one time through. I am entirely incapable of that sort of moderation. Instead, I wait for the final note and then immediately hit the "Back" button on my CD player to start it over again. Yes, I drive alone 99% of the time. Why do you ask?

    2. Pull Shapes (The Pipettes) - This one was also on the GG mix, but it's in regular rotation on the radio now as well. Each time I hear it, I feel like teasing my hair into a bouffant and going to a sock hop, and for some reason, that makes me smile.

    3. Party Hard (Andrew W.K.) - I know. I KNOW! Andrew W.K.? Really?? Yes, really. I am not a 19-year-old frat boy, and I wouldn't ordinarily pay any attention to someone who names his album I Get Wet (Ewww!) nor who includes on that album three (yes, three!) songs with the word "Party" in the title (one of which also includes the word "Puke," no less... again, ewww). But this song? How can you listen to this song and not move your body immediately? I am not a runner... If I go for the treadmill rather than the elliptical at the gym, it's generally for a brisk walk with maybe some brief jogging intervals mixed in (no more than four minutes at a time, and no faster than 5.2 mph). With this song on my not-iPod last week, though, I made it up to 5.8 mph, just so I could pound my feet with the fast and steady beat of the song, and I kept it at that pace for the full duration of the track. This is seriously my new favorite workout song. I don't care what anyone else says. Also, the fact that I am currently in love with this ridiculous song brings me peace in some strange way... It's a song I completely forgot about, because it's included on a "Rock mix" that I stopped listening to because my ex-boyfriend made it for me. That I can now listen to that mix without any hard feelings or sad associations is progress, I believe. And the fact that Andrew W.K. is who got me thinking about this? Well, hey, maybe he is a deep and serious thinker after all.*** Who knew?

    4. How to Save a Life (The Fray) - I hadn't listened to this album in a while, but when I called it up again the other day, I found that, much like the song in #1 above, I can't listen to this track just once without immediately backing up and hearing it over again. Yes, it's a little old by now. Yes, I still love it. So what.

    5. LDN (Lily Allen) - I don't even know what the hell "LDN" means (someone fill me in, please?), but every time this song comes on when I'm at home, I have to stop whatever I'm doing and dance around my living room. And not even good dancing. Not dancing that is in any way fit for public viewing. It involves a lot of ridiculous bopping. There may even be some kicking and leaping. Remember the infamous Elaine dance on Seinfeld? Yeah, she's got nothing on me.

      ---------------------------------------------------
      Edit: OK, apparently I should do some research before I ask questions for which the answers are readily available. LDN = London. Duh.
      ---------------------------------------------------

    OK, now it's your turn... What song do you have on constant rewind/loop these days?


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    * Yes, I know I am risking having my Poppy Award revoked for ending a post title with a preposition, but we'll call it artistic license, OK? (Much like the topic itself is artistic license, as I am not literally playing any of these songs over and over with the sort of irrational insistence on repetition usually reserved for three-year-olds...)

    ** Oh, how I heart you, The Current. Whatever did I do before you came along? Please don't ever leave me.

    *** Credit to Malia for pointing me to this in her sidebar-blog a while back.




    Tuesday, January 02, 2007

    Bands I've seen in 2007


    • Mates of State (w/Ira Glass This American Life tour) - February 28 (Orpheum Theatre)

    • Badly Drawn Boy - March 11 (Fine Line Music Cafe)

    • Mason Jennings & Alexi Murdoch - March 30 (First Avenue)

    • Bob Schneider - April 6 (Fine Line)

    • Neko Case - April 7 (First Avenue)

    • Peter Bjorn and John (w/Au Revoir Simone and Fujiya & Miyagi) - May 9 (First Avenue)

    • Andrew Bird - May 11 (First Avenue) (Does it still count if I missed almost all of it?)

    • The Pipettes - June 8 (7th Street Entry)

    • Rilo Kiley - September 14 (First Avenue)

    • The National - September 20 (Fine Line)

    • Ani DiFranco - September 21 (The State Theater)

    • Arcade Fire w/LCD Soundsystem - September 30 (Roy Wilkins Auditorium)

    • Josh Ritter - October 17 (Cedar Cultural Center)

    • Bob Schneider - December 2 (Varsity Theater)