Some of you guys may know Austin Meek, for those who don't, this is his and three of his friends upcoming movie that they made during the road trip through the U.S.
Needless to say, I'll be viewing it, and hope you guys will to. Here is a link to their site. It should come out sometime this spring, but they're a bunch of good ol' boys at Texas A&M and Baylor so don't expect too much in the on time department.
15 February 2009
SEC reps get grilled!
I stole this from Mike's blog. It's amazing to see an elected official... doing their job? Or at least doing a damn good job of pretending. Also has great entertainment value for those not interested in politics, especially America's.
11 February 2009
Anti-Folk
Most of any one who has read this blog has heard me rave at some point over the years regarding the music genre known as anti-folk. Welp today I'm gonna BS, as usual about a subject I don't know much about but love to discuss. Most of you are familiar with some of the singles from this genre such as "Loser" and "Satan Gave Me A Taco" by Beck, "Anyone Else But You" by the Moldy Peaches thanks to the movie Juno, and "Samson" and "Oedipus" by Regina Spektor. Some names you might not (or might, what the hell do I know) may be Jeffrey Lewis and the Creeping Brains, Billy Bragg, and Ani Difranco.
The genre is generally a fusion of folk and punk, with other forms such as classical and rock having their influence. The albums themselves have little coherency even within themselves switching between post-punk and folkish/country styles. They are however highly experimental and eccentric and raw. The anti-folk scene though in the Lower East Side of NYC when Lach got the boot from Folk venues cause he was too punkish. Naturally, he started something new, and others joined in that scene. It's the artist who played in this scene that are associated with this form.
The lyrics "tend" to be contained within a voice of a defeat and anguish. Except the overtly punk ones. Some are even playful or whiney or both. Again, the genre tends defy any general characteristics, which is part of the beauty of it. One of my favorite quotes is by Jeffrey Lewis who said in an interview, "I think it’s a cool title (anti-folk). The fact that no one knows what it means, including me, makes it kind of mysterious and more interesting than saying that you’re a singer/songwriter or that you play indie rock." The lyrics content tends to vary greatly amongst artist, while they share a form of anti-pretentiousness and enjoyment through making fun of themselves (and others who take themselves too seriously, like many folk snobs, another dimension of "anti"-folk). Often times the songs are political or satirical or plain social commentary. Some nonsensically fun. Introspective ones have a strong presence as well. Again, oftentimes all within a single album giving them a disjunctive feeling. The textures of the words themselves and the imagery varies greatly, but are never simplistic and highly engaging in my opinion.
Most of the albums are produced via independent record labels, Rough Trade being by far the main one, but not necessarily. Many of these artist have also left the scene and explored other genres, like Beck obviously. As mentioned, it started as getting rejected by the Folk community. I don't know for sure, but... "anti-folk," coincidence? As it's so closely associated to a scene, my guess is that rather than trying to consciously compose music within a genre, it was more groups of like-minded people with similar taste indirectly influencing one another for the similarities in styles. This helps explain the continuities yet differences.
So, how 'bout a little less words and a lot more music?
A live recording from a song off the album The Moldy Peaches
From the album Mellow Gold
From the album Dilate
The genre is generally a fusion of folk and punk, with other forms such as classical and rock having their influence. The albums themselves have little coherency even within themselves switching between post-punk and folkish/country styles. They are however highly experimental and eccentric and raw. The anti-folk scene though in the Lower East Side of NYC when Lach got the boot from Folk venues cause he was too punkish. Naturally, he started something new, and others joined in that scene. It's the artist who played in this scene that are associated with this form.
The lyrics "tend" to be contained within a voice of a defeat and anguish. Except the overtly punk ones. Some are even playful or whiney or both. Again, the genre tends defy any general characteristics, which is part of the beauty of it. One of my favorite quotes is by Jeffrey Lewis who said in an interview, "I think it’s a cool title (anti-folk). The fact that no one knows what it means, including me, makes it kind of mysterious and more interesting than saying that you’re a singer/songwriter or that you play indie rock." The lyrics content tends to vary greatly amongst artist, while they share a form of anti-pretentiousness and enjoyment through making fun of themselves (and others who take themselves too seriously, like many folk snobs, another dimension of "anti"-folk). Often times the songs are political or satirical or plain social commentary. Some nonsensically fun. Introspective ones have a strong presence as well. Again, oftentimes all within a single album giving them a disjunctive feeling. The textures of the words themselves and the imagery varies greatly, but are never simplistic and highly engaging in my opinion.
Most of the albums are produced via independent record labels, Rough Trade being by far the main one, but not necessarily. Many of these artist have also left the scene and explored other genres, like Beck obviously. As mentioned, it started as getting rejected by the Folk community. I don't know for sure, but... "anti-folk," coincidence? As it's so closely associated to a scene, my guess is that rather than trying to consciously compose music within a genre, it was more groups of like-minded people with similar taste indirectly influencing one another for the similarities in styles. This helps explain the continuities yet differences.
So, how 'bout a little less words and a lot more music?
A live recording from a song off the album The Moldy Peaches
From the album Mellow Gold
From the album Dilate
Sober Since Sunday
Actually I was sober Saturday too, which was part of the problem. The night before (Friday), Curt and I had gone to McNellies after pre-gaming. He recognized a friend of his, John Doe. So we went over, and three hours later, we and the women folk had hardly said anything as we listened to stories between John Doe and a friend about water balloons and who was fucking who (especially when they were involved) and all sorts of miscellaneous douche-bag things that I'm positive you have to take classes and do practice drills in order to adequately perform in such manners. Don't get me wrong, they were nice enough. It was a waste of a perfectly good night though, and we should have left and gone and visited his hipster friend Seth. Next night, we went back...
At first everything was good, I particularly enjoyed hanging with Shane. Made a new friend at the bar, I was just smoking minding my own business. The guy over at the other end had done a friendly but insecure head nod that I didn't think anything of. All of a sudden "Time to Pretend" came on, and he got up. He asked, "WHO IS THIS?" Without blinking or turning my eyes from the London Porter tap, I reply Management. All of a sudden he banged his hand on the table startling me, his friend, and the bartender. He's like, who is this? I mumble, "Management or MGMT." He then proceeds to tell him how relieved he was cause he heard it on the radio for 6 months when his alarm clock goes off, had even called the radio station and couldn't figure it out. He was glowing like... well I don't know but he was glowing all get out. Told the bartender his hand hurt, and she replied he probably shouldn't have hit the counter so hard (he actually wasn't drunk at all).
Anyways, things were going well, we eventually left our group to go hang out with Annie and Marie, who never showed up. I had had two beers at this point over well an hour. Annie shows up and is immediately immersed in her favorite subject, herself. I listened and over the next half-hour tried to engage politely, but she was oblivious to my existence. At one point I dismissed myself to go to the rest room, and decided it was time to leave. I was planning on walking back and checking out the time and politely excusing myself. Got back and it was 9:30. Shit, I had been there only 30 minutes, and it felt like hours. Already having an extreme bias against her as a person, I decided to revert to my natural asshole-self to salvage my time. I then proceed to spend the next hour engaging more proactively by throwing out incessant jabs. Curtis acted like he didn't notice. Annie was oblivious to most of them. (I did find out later that even he thought it was amusing when she was trying to explain to me that she was intelligent cause she could bs and that they're essentially the same thing.). When she did, she seemed to give me the benefit of the doubt that I actually wasn't attacking her. It actually wasn't that hard, since she basically dismisses me as a drunken idiot. Okay, so she's right on with that assessment, except while not less than also not just that. Moreover, she seems to be incredibly un-self-aware and overcompensates for her insecurities with a shallow facade of having a higher opinion of herself that she wants to convince you of. Over the next hour I went home. I felt like myself, full of hatred and disgust and proud of myself. I had enjoyed attacking her thoroughly; it had not been the boring event I dreaded. As the night progressed though, I felt horrible about who I was reverting to. The next day I went to church and repented. Curtis and I talked a little about it, he was surprised she picked up on them as little as she did. He was also shocked I could act like that sober. I told him there's a lot about me he doesn't know.
Something clicked though, and I haven't been drinking for some reason, and been reading a lot more and deeply pondering some directions... like what it means to be more fully human.
At first everything was good, I particularly enjoyed hanging with Shane. Made a new friend at the bar, I was just smoking minding my own business. The guy over at the other end had done a friendly but insecure head nod that I didn't think anything of. All of a sudden "Time to Pretend" came on, and he got up. He asked, "WHO IS THIS?" Without blinking or turning my eyes from the London Porter tap, I reply Management. All of a sudden he banged his hand on the table startling me, his friend, and the bartender. He's like, who is this? I mumble, "Management or MGMT." He then proceeds to tell him how relieved he was cause he heard it on the radio for 6 months when his alarm clock goes off, had even called the radio station and couldn't figure it out. He was glowing like... well I don't know but he was glowing all get out. Told the bartender his hand hurt, and she replied he probably shouldn't have hit the counter so hard (he actually wasn't drunk at all).
Anyways, things were going well, we eventually left our group to go hang out with Annie and Marie, who never showed up. I had had two beers at this point over well an hour. Annie shows up and is immediately immersed in her favorite subject, herself. I listened and over the next half-hour tried to engage politely, but she was oblivious to my existence. At one point I dismissed myself to go to the rest room, and decided it was time to leave. I was planning on walking back and checking out the time and politely excusing myself. Got back and it was 9:30. Shit, I had been there only 30 minutes, and it felt like hours. Already having an extreme bias against her as a person, I decided to revert to my natural asshole-self to salvage my time. I then proceed to spend the next hour engaging more proactively by throwing out incessant jabs. Curtis acted like he didn't notice. Annie was oblivious to most of them. (I did find out later that even he thought it was amusing when she was trying to explain to me that she was intelligent cause she could bs and that they're essentially the same thing.). When she did, she seemed to give me the benefit of the doubt that I actually wasn't attacking her. It actually wasn't that hard, since she basically dismisses me as a drunken idiot. Okay, so she's right on with that assessment, except while not less than also not just that. Moreover, she seems to be incredibly un-self-aware and overcompensates for her insecurities with a shallow facade of having a higher opinion of herself that she wants to convince you of. Over the next hour I went home. I felt like myself, full of hatred and disgust and proud of myself. I had enjoyed attacking her thoroughly; it had not been the boring event I dreaded. As the night progressed though, I felt horrible about who I was reverting to. The next day I went to church and repented. Curtis and I talked a little about it, he was surprised she picked up on them as little as she did. He was also shocked I could act like that sober. I told him there's a lot about me he doesn't know.
Something clicked though, and I haven't been drinking for some reason, and been reading a lot more and deeply pondering some directions... like what it means to be more fully human.
07 February 2009
New folk music...
One of the benefits of living with someone new is the cultural exchange of one of civilization's greatest gifts, music. Living with Curtis is no exception, and two folk bands in particular have caught my attention: Sherree Chamberlain and The Tobasco Donkeys.
The Tobasco Donkeys are a fun cover-band. They only do a bluegrassy, folk style, but their songs can be originally from other genres, especially blues. They all were staff at Philmont. They have some free downloads from their rejects on their site.
Here's an example of a song they might do:
I don't have the dl for Sherree Chamberlain yet. She's a local Oklahoman, went to school with Curt. In comparison to The Tobasco Donkeys, much more melodious music though. Some of the singing reminds me of Norah Jones, some Regina Spector, but it still is better quality music than Norah Jones. Some of her songs have a spiritual theme, so if you do check her out, be wary. Apparently her new stuff is less so, and more folky. Here is her myspace page which has some music to sample on. I'll probably go to two of her shows in March.
The Tobasco Donkeys are a fun cover-band. They only do a bluegrassy, folk style, but their songs can be originally from other genres, especially blues. They all were staff at Philmont. They have some free downloads from their rejects on their site.
Here's an example of a song they might do:
Here’s another song for all you ladies
Well, I’d much rather have a bug in my ear,
Then a porcupine stuck to my face.
Well, I’d much rather have a frog in my throat,
Than a dog makin’ love to my leg.
A girl asked you home to meet momma and daddy
She says she thinks you’re nice. Ya, right!
Well, there’s trouble ahead, you’ll wish you were dead
If you don’t take this friendly advice,
* CHORUS *
Don’t pet the dog
Don’t pet him whatever you do
‘Cause he ain’t been fixed, and he knows some tricks
That’ll sure make a fool out of you. Ya, you!
* CHORUS * second stanza
Don’t pet the dog
He gets you confused with romance
Just leave him alone, or the next thing you know
He’ll be askin’ your ankle to dance.
Well, you say it’s OK, try to push him away
You ask, “What’s his name? Does he sit up and beg?”
Well, you try to stay cool, but you look like a fool
With a dog makin’ love to your leg.
* CHORUS *
* CHORUS * second stanza
Everybody now
Don’t pet the dog.
I don't have the dl for Sherree Chamberlain yet. She's a local Oklahoman, went to school with Curt. In comparison to The Tobasco Donkeys, much more melodious music though. Some of the singing reminds me of Norah Jones, some Regina Spector, but it still is better quality music than Norah Jones. Some of her songs have a spiritual theme, so if you do check her out, be wary. Apparently her new stuff is less so, and more folky. Here is her myspace page which has some music to sample on. I'll probably go to two of her shows in March.
06 February 2009
"Of course, the shalomic dreams of the Hebrew prophets are visionary: the literal coursing of Chardonnay through mountain streambeds is not an essential feature of everybody's picture of an ideal world." - Cornelius Plantinga, Jr. from Not the Way It's Supposed to Be: A Breviary of Sin
My response? Fuck hell it's not.
My response? Fuck hell it's not.
The next day.
We had two couchsurfers over, and my thoughts were running, oh shit we don't have alcohol, what if they want some? So being the good host, did a quick drive and grabbed a handle of gin. Then ran to the store and bought some tonic and other necessary groceries. As I got out of my car, they were pulling in. Perfect timing. While as they were still in the car, I heard Michelle yelling how great it was going to be to get out. I shook Ian's hand, went to shake Michelle's but she was going for the hug. I shook it, and then we hugged. It was obvious they were hipsters, and not a moment too soon if you ask me. I needed to have a good time, and these were people I actually fit in with (I had spent the last week in a college town with L'Abriers.).
Not going to bore you with the details. But they left at 2 the next afternoon. Curtis stumbled in, "so did you realize that Michelle crawled in bed with me?"
"No, I didn't."
"Yea, she was in there for five minutes or more. She started kissing my face."
"HA."
Later...he's trying to make a pizza. Smoke comes flaming from the oven. "Oops, sorry bout that. I had tried baking those globe chips last night," (fresh potato chips and blue cheese. a delight I discovered in Athens with Joy and her friends) "but forgot about them. Must of spilt the oil when I took them out."
A few minutes later... "Did you throw up in this drawer?"
"Me? No. But Michelle had said something about Ian having gotten sick last night, and he was definitely hungover today."
"YOU DON'T REMEMBER?! You guys must of been sloshed, if instead of going for the sink, Ian goes for the drawer, and none of you guys remember."
We had between the three of us: 1 handle of Vodka and 1/2 handle of gin. We had tons of fun.
Good times, although as Modest Mouse would put it, "are killing me."
Not going to bore you with the details. But they left at 2 the next afternoon. Curtis stumbled in, "so did you realize that Michelle crawled in bed with me?"
"No, I didn't."
"Yea, she was in there for five minutes or more. She started kissing my face."
"HA."
Later...he's trying to make a pizza. Smoke comes flaming from the oven. "Oops, sorry bout that. I had tried baking those globe chips last night," (fresh potato chips and blue cheese. a delight I discovered in Athens with Joy and her friends) "but forgot about them. Must of spilt the oil when I took them out."
A few minutes later... "Did you throw up in this drawer?"
"Me? No. But Michelle had said something about Ian having gotten sick last night, and he was definitely hungover today."
"YOU DON'T REMEMBER?! You guys must of been sloshed, if instead of going for the sink, Ian goes for the drawer, and none of you guys remember."
We had between the three of us: 1 handle of Vodka and 1/2 handle of gin. We had tons of fun.
Good times, although as Modest Mouse would put it, "are killing me."
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