as we may blog

It was a long weekend, and not really the good type of long weekend. Sorry for the lack of posts. Most of our time was spent with a sick cat. I’ll try to get a lengthier post up later tonight, but in the meantime I’ll offer up these two items for public consumption:

• “Wind Blow,” Bone Thugs n’ Harmony. It’s about time someone remixed Fleetwood Mac. This song doesn’t just define our generation, it defines all generations.
• Hey hey hey, it’s Fat Halpert, Jim Halpert… and that guy from Postal Service, together at last.

Something about David Byrne pushing to the front of a recent Arcade Fire show struck me as funny:

Up in the VIP balcony the sound did indeed suck, so I wormed my way to within a few yards of the stage, in front of one of the PA speakers, and it was wonderful. The new songs are grand, personal, apocalyptic and totally heartfelt. Just to see and hear a band that is so obviously playing from the heart and not making career moves was incredibly moving — but of course the songs and arrangements are good, too. Yes, I could hear little bits of Talking Heads in their earlier material and shows — which was flattering — but now I think most of their influences are pretty invisible. They’ve become what they are.

I can’t speak for the sound in the VIP balcony, but he’s completely right about the songs from Neon Bible. Byrne, being much smarter about these things than I, easily identified what is so great about the new songs: they’re masterfully composed, tightly wound, and, truly, totally heartfelt.

I’m not going to make much of an effort to say more than Byrne did above, but I’ve listened to this album about twenty times already and I can’t recommend it highly enough. If you’ve got a turntable and decent speakers I think 180g vinyl will really showcase the density and delicacy of the sound, more than it might for other rock albums. Go get this.

I couldn’t let this go without a blockquote:

"About halfway through the record I didn’t really know what it was supposed to be about," Mr. Mellencamp said. "I had so many political songs akin to ‘Masters of War,’ that kind of stuff. But then I recorded a song called ‘Ghost Towns Along the Highway,’ and I said that’s what this record is about."

I’ve gotta hand it to anyone who can evenly and honestly evaluate his own greatness and shelve a bunch of songs that are merely generation-defining. Heap all the critical acclaim you want on Dylan, but his songs never sold any trucks.

Now playing: Local H, “Bound for the Floor”

I’m taken back to 2000 or so when Iowa City was abuzz with the news that a MYSTERY BAND would appear at the Union Bar on Thrusday night. The idea was that you paid a $10-ish cover charge, got your beers, and waited around for the unknown to happen. It was, like, the exact opposite of every concert anyone had ever been to!

Presumably (and with the aid of several beers) the false spontaneity of the event would sear memories in your head and you would talk with your buddies about the event in a viral manner.

I didn’t go. But I heard that Local H played and, regrettably, failed to keep it copacetic.

The cat and I have taken to chainsmoking cloves and lounging in the nude with the lady of the manor out of state all week. I’ve also taken the opportunity to pull out some albums that I haven’t listened to in years (perhaps for good reason?) to see how well they’ve aged. Surprisingly, many of the albums I thought I’d no longer have much of an affinity for are sounding pretty good. I’ll list them below. For those curious, there have been two major flops in the reacquaintance process thus far: The Sea and Cake (boring) and Spiritualized (I’m not so spazed out these days, I guess).

Staying up late and meeting deadlines never sounded so good.

Arab Strap, FUKD i.d. 2
Pavement, Watery, Domestic (but only Watery, Domestic)
Autechre, EP7
R. E. M., New Adventures in Hi-Fi
The Smiths, The Queen is Dead