So, I don't have anything in particular to review--no more concerts until next weekend, and no new albums to review. At work today, in a down moment, I started thinking about the music I grew up listening to. My parents, as I've said before, are music fiends with excellent taste. They raised me to be able to identify the Beatles, U2, Rolling Stones, etc, in the first seconds of music. But what is my favorite song from each of these bands? It seems nearly impossible, from the outset, to choose a favorite from the music that you grew up with, particular my generation, whose parents listen to the epically amazing music from the late 60s-early 70s. So I went through my iPod and chose several bands that I deemed the most influential on my childhood, and then chose my favorite song from each. I then asked my parents to contribute their favorite songs from each of the bands. Though I thought this would be a fairly simple thing, my parents both needed a good hour to go through each band's catalog for their favorite. It turned out to be really cool, and I was introduced to a lot of songs that I didn't actually know, and in that brief period of time, some of my favorites change. It's also interesting how much you learn about people when you start discussing your favorite songs. And I'll leave it at that before I wax more lyrical than I already have . . .
Beatles: "Norwegian Wood" (Mom and me) My Dad can't choose a favorite Beatles' song.
Little Feat: "Easy to Slip" (Mama Historian) "Fat Man in the Bathtub" (Me)
Robert took off his round wire-rimmed glasses and his shoes. He climbed into the bed, careful not to disturb Elspeth, and folded himself around her. For weeks she had burned with fever, but now her temperature was almost normal. He felt his skin warm slightly where it touched hers. She had passed into the realm of inanimate objects and was losing her own heat. Robert pressed his face into the back of Elspeth's neck and breathed deeply.
Elspeth watched him from the ceiling. How familiar he was to her, and how strange he seemed. She saw, but could not feel, his long hands pressed into her waist--everything about him was elongated, his face all jaw and large upper lip; he had a slightly beakish nose and deep-set eyes; his brown hair spilled over her pillow. His skin was pallorous from being too long in the hospital light. He looked so desolate, thin and enormous, spooned around her tiny slack body; Elspeth thought of a photograph she had seen long ago in National Geographic, a mother clutching a child dead from starvation. Robert's white shirt was creased; there were holes in the big toes of his socks. All regrets and guilts and longings of her life came over her. No, she thought. I won't go. But she was already gone, and in a moment she was elsewhere, scattered nothingness.
-Her Fearful Symmetry, Audrey Niffenegger
The newest novel from Audrey Niffenegger, author of The Time Traveler's Wife, is page after page of beautiful writing, that weaves a beautifully haunting tale. It's like a photograph that mysterious comes out altered--an exposure in the roll of film, some strange accident--that is all the more stunning in its strangeness. It has a dry, sly humor that is at times light and teasing, yet (as that sort of humor so often can) has a macabre edge that can make you wonder just what it is they're holding back. Set for the most part in London, next to the Victorian marvel, Highgate Cemetery, it has a gothic element without being drab and dour (a skill that it seems only the British have). It reminds me of some of my favorite British things, like taking tea . . . and the odd ability Brits have for answering your question and telling you absolutely nothing at the same time.
The above excerpt is from the beginning, because the story is too important in its chronology to pluck something out of the middle. It's difficult to read at times, as the passage shows, but it's truly a splendid read. In a further bid to try to entice any readers to give it a go . . . I love Martin, and I hope you do, too.
Oh, and as a voracious reader, I pride myself on deductive reasoning. But I didn't see it coming. At all.
Today I thought I'd give a little review of Stars' new album Five Ghosts and a Seance, which came out June 21st, 2010. Now, until I started really looking into the band, I could have sworn up and down that Emily Haines was in this band. I was horrifically incorrect. I knew that members of Stars were also in Broken Social Scene, and Emily Haines was in BSS . . . . I have no excuse. I was wrong, I stand corrected. That being said! There are definite parallels between Emily Haines and the REAL singer-guitarist of Stars, Amy Millan: they're very good friends and its not surprising that they're musical styles coincide. Anyway, onto the real review.
Five Ghosts and a Seance is, in my opinion, a very welcome return to their sound from Set Yourself on Fire (2004). In our Bedroom after the War was, for whatever reason, not my cup of tea at the time, and with this new album they've returned to producer Tom McFall, to their benefit, I think. The album has a fantastically ethereal, elegant sound, yet at the same time is very much grounded in terrific percussion beats. The first song off the album, "Dead Hearts," evokes nostalgia, the seed of aruined/lost/unrequited love that has planted itself deep in your heart's atrium. The open harmonies and shimmering synth and strings create a sound for summer. Or maybe that's just the sheen of damp sweat that makes my shirt stick to my skin as I enter my sun-baked car.
The dance-y, beat-driven "Wasted Daylight" sounds a bit Metric-like (Emily Haines, I'm telling you!). But the song seems more rooted than some of the others, in something real and concrete. Millan's lyric imagery is excellent, and more realistic than other songs on the album. See also: "I Died so I could Haunt you" lyrics:
i was only a girl when i wore widow's clothes i was unfaithful, i lived as i chose i want only to haunt you, but you're never there
i died so i could have you i died so i could haunt you
Overall, this latest album has similar overtones to Set Yourself on Fire, but is not by any stretch of the imagination a repeat. There is a continued gothic image, in songs like "Five Ghosts," "The Black House, the Blue Sky," and "The Last Song Ever Written," which also has an MGMT-esque sound. Stars is clearly evolving as a group, with a distinct musical style. And even though it's been three years since their last album, thanks to a renewed focus on Broken Social Scene, I don't feel like they've completely lost their essence as a band (yes, I'm talking about a specific band, and yes, I could go into it. But it's not positive at all, and I'm not sure how I feel about being so purposefully negative).
Anyway, I give this album 3 1/2 out of 5 stars, and a pair of purple pants for being indie-tastic.
*sidenote: the "making of" video series on their youtube channel "starmontreal" is a really interesting peek into how an album comes together, for them at any rate*
Tuesday, a part of my life was fulfilled. I slashed an item off my list of things to do before I die. The wanna-be rock star inside me gave a great happy dance with arms flung out and feet tapping wildly, then died of sheer happiness.
Tuesday, my friend from school came to visit. I rushed home from work, picked up another college friend, changed my clothes, and drove us to the metro station. We rode the metro into the nation's capital. We ate at Pret-a-manger (I had egg salad sandwiches and lemonade). We got back on the metro. We stood in line (the most yuppie looking of the entire crowd, and I'm not that yuppie looking). We got to the door (sweet air conditioning!), my bag was thoroughly checked, my right hand was stamped a bold "8:15."
We dashed up the stairs, and stood for what felt like ever against the iron railing, the decorative knob shoving further into my cleavage (ouch) as the venue grew fuller and fuller. We stood on the balcony, at the edge of a mass crowd five rows deep, and watched those below us crowd closer and closer, stretching back past the sound booth and towards the bathrooms. And then, a great blue eye lit up the projection screen at the back of the stage. A cheer went up that reverberated through the railing and into my ribcage. The frequency grew more intense--Jack White took a seat behind his massive drum kit, and Alison Mosshart's hand reached out to form a white-knuckled fist on the front microphone.
The Dead Weather had come to town.
Alison Mosshart is a hero of mine--possibly the biggest one I have. She seems so sweet and funny in interviews, and shy, then comes onstage and dominates with this amazing physical presence and dynamite vocals. She pulses around the stage like a mix between Mick Jagger, Stevie Nicks, and some undefinable factor that makes her performances totally her own. She squawks and chirps in certain songs, screams and yells in others, and still sounds beyond cool. Her Jack Skellington legs lift and bend at amazing angles, clad in everpresent black denim. Gold boots glint as she stands precariously on the edge of the front speakers. I couldn't blink, could barely breathe as I tracked her movements across the stage and was still only when she perched on an amp to beat a tambourine while Jack White took the main vocals.
A reviewer for the Washington Post stated that the show was essentially a showcase for Jack White. I thoroughly disagree. Jack White is immensely talented, a fact that is accepted by the entire music community. He plays the drums with a precision and ferocity that is commanding, but not showy. He does not take away from any other member of the band. They are all immensely talented musicians who blend together incredibly well (the whole reason why the band formed so organically in the first place). He leaned into the mic to sing his songs, and duet with Alison Mosshart, but nothing over the top. Towards the end of the show there was a moment of switching around, and Jack White came forward to play the guitar. And it was good. An amazing experience-he really is like few (any) I've ever seen on guitar. His duet with Alison, "Will there be enough water?" is an experiment in sexual tension and the power of the opposite sex in one band. Dean Fertita and Jack Lawrence, guitar and keyboards, and bass, respectively, are so integral to the process. Without Fertita's rip-roaring guitar, the intensity would not exist in the music. And many of the Dead Weather songs open on bass, and Lawrence's bass lines are always innovative, never tired and boring.
Let me put it simply. The house rocked. My ears didn't stop ringing until about 3 pm the next day. All the favorites off both albums were played, as well as a bit of a surprise-"Rollin in on a Burnin Tire" featured on the Eclipse soundtrack. They are epic, a powerhouse. They are the modern blues, they are an odd grouping of Tim Burton-esque misfits that make the best fit together. Stylish, incredible, incendiary. I will see them every chance I get, and you should, too.
It's been quite awhile since I've written anything remotely style related--mostly because I've been unsure of what I like. It's starting to level out a bit though. And I hate to say it, but these sweltering days have left me pining for the crispness of fall weather. I can't wait to wrap myself in plaids, corduroy, and thermals.
When summer comes around I'm a real jeans-and-tee type girl, which is making finding work-appropriate clothes that don't make me cringe from discomfort, sweat buckets, or feel like I'm playing a Stepford wife really difficult. On the other hand, having a job and making money means that I can buy myself clothes semi-whenever I want for the first time in my entire life. My mom has gotten behind my whole 70s with a modern twist vibe 100%, which is really great. So here are some of my recent/favorite summer purchases, and some dream items for fall (one of which is within my grasp, the other is in all probability utterly impossible. but a girl can dream, right?)
Summer 2010 Plus #1: Madewell goes viral!
Madewell is one of my favorite shops. Their rail straight jeans fit me the best, gripping my backside without being too roomy or too tight in the legs (my caboose is totally flat, which I don't have a problem with . . . it just makes jean shopping a trial. My best friend has the opposite "problem", and she also wears Madewell jeans). Plus, they don't wear out as quickly as their big sister, J.Crew's jeans do. I also highly recommend the jean shorts, which are cutoffs that have that "oh these? I just cut an old pair of jeans" look without being too raggedy, and short without my buttcheeks hanging out (MAJOR plus). I'm also digging their shirts, which I wear pretty much all the time.
They also are the proud purveyor of my graduation present to myself: a brown leather slouchy purse that I may feature in a rare personal photo post, of my purse and its contents, a la . . . every other blogger ever.
Summer 2010 Plus #2: Etsy. Etsy. Etsy. I've watched Etsy forever, and frequently received birthday presents and christmas present from the fantastic sellers that shop at that site. But recently, I've begun purchasing there in my own right, and I can't be happier to personally support independent craftsmen/women. Thus far, I've purchased this shirt from the amazing Thief and Bandit, who create amazing tee shirts and accessories. And though the photo is a dude, I promise it fits me great!
The look of the shirt goes along really well with the Western influence that's been creeping into my brain recently. I'm trying to save up for some cowboy boots and/or moccasins, but it's a bit difficult when I see things like the incredible (but not on etsy) Spool No. 72's Little Chief tee that make me super impulse buy while writing a blog post (literally ten minutes ago. kid you not) but it's so amaaazing!
This has nothing to do with style, but many sellers on etsy make beautiful terrariums. I just re-did my room (which I may also post pics of) and I want to fill it with all sorts of terrariums and (humane) butterfly specimens.
Fall 2010 Plus #1: J.Crew, duh.
Like everyone else on the planet, I love the new styling that's been going on a J.Crew. I think they're freshening up their image in the best way, and the new fall collection is just genius, really. Other bloggers have said it ten times better than me, including Joanna Goddard of A Cup of Jo (whose newborn baby is just about the cutest thing I've ever seen, and honestly the first baby I've ever just completely melted over).
Fall 2010 Plus #2: Lauren Moffatt's Fall 2010 Collection
This is just so unbelievably stunning to me--it's feminine without being frilly and over the top. It uses pattern without being too busy, and is reminiscent of vintage without being stuffy. Now if only I could afford it.
"Piece of my Heart" (Mama and Papa)
