"...feather by feather."
What.a.voice.
"...what we became."
Odd visual accompaniment to a little ditty by Deer Tick. Because you can't not give a chance to a guy with a gee-tar who goes by Deer Tick.
"... and dreamed of the way that we were and the way that we wanted to be."
Often a difficult distinction, I daresay.
This video fails to capture the best bits of this song in all their glorious glory... oh me oh my, the dissonance, the horns, the strings, the chorus, the deliberate frenzied plucking at about the 2 minute mark... but *as is usual* it'll have to do. In my desperately unsuccessful search for a more detailed version (really, you must hear the plucking), I did find covers by both Jeff Buckley and Starsailor.
I still declare that when I finally win the lottery I will commission a ballet to Astral Weeks in its entirety. Oh yes. I will. I am so certain the songs on that album were just made for ballet choreography. It would (I mean, it WILL) be gorgeous.
"...of a colorful year... which makes me smile inside."
I could have taken one of two directions with these lyrics, and I went with the positive. Well looky there. This hasn't come up on my iPod, because it hasn't yet made it on there, but it's been turning pretty nonstop on my cerebral turntable for days now. Days. I like to attach too much meaning to such things, so I wonder what story it is, exactly, that I plan on ending. I'll keep you posted.
The Dior commercial that introduced me to this song ("Moi Je Joue") makes me dry heave. And yet there's a crooked smile I can't quite suppress when I hear those first few beats. My body goes into a freaky auto-pilot foux da fa fa mode where I want nothing more than to prance around and do a white girl jig. And so the song stays and the commercial goes. And all is somewhat right with the world.
On a less gloomy note, I'm all sorts of revved up to hear the new Veils album, coming out April 7th. Here's one of the new songs, which feels more reminiscent of songs from the former albums than some of the other new tunes I've heard. But we shall see... I'll resist voicing any opinions 'til I get the full effect from the complete album.
"... we fall but our souls are flying."
It's only fitting that in this time of working so damn much I feel totally disconnected from the world this morose little ditty would be worming its way through me noggin. Not to worry, though, I'm not planning anything drastic involving cliffs or the like. I am, however, beginning to feel much like a veteran driven to numb the pain with a little vino. And I mean that quite literally, as every bodily issue related to my ergonomically incorrect office is flaring something terrible. And on that note, a pretty song... and a live version, if you like (and I think you will).
"...let me know you think about me too."
Ever since Neko performed at the Hideout Bloc Party last summer I've been waiting for her album to come out to track down this Harry Nilsson cover. I do believe this is the point in the concert when I looked over to find even B's eyes a little tearful. Though we all politely blamed the beer.
Here's another song just introduced to me by D (spasiba!). It's by Jason Lytle (formerly of Grandaddy), and it's real nice. His new album, Yours Truly, The Commuter, comes out May 19th. Sold, to the girl who can't stop playing this song.
Still wading through a swamp of work over here, but here's a tune I was happy to hear this morning. It had been awhile and it sure was lovely making its acquaintance again.
I'm slammed with work over here, but here's a song that looped a couple times during this morning's commute. I never got into TV on the Radio's Cookie Mountain album, but I'm fond of Dear Science so far. This is "Family Tree."
People are strange from Denis Fongue on Vimeo via AS.
The Doors always remind me of my brother. He had a mild obsession with them back in high school, right around the time I too was discovering music as sanctuary. Never before had our outlets allowed for this bit of bonding. His preceding obsessions with things like tornados and the holocaust never managed to synch up with my focus on horror movies and the sinking of the Titanic (despite the clear common thread). What can I say, we're a morbid bunch.
"...everyone now believes is you. Originality was never big on your list of things to be."
The grammar's a little off and so is the quality of the sound on this vid, but this song is great in a simple old school kind of way. I heard it for the first time last night on the commute home, and it's been on repeat ever since (only to be interrupted by "She Goes To Bed," another good one). D's only recommended Falkner to me, oh, TWENTY times, but I just kept thinking "my mother is a fish" and generally don't latch on to a recommendation until one bops me over the head. Or comes through the speakers attached to my head. Good thing I'm still discovering music already in my possession whilst simultaneously binge-buying new stuff on the cheap. I've been in one of those manic search and rescue phases, which means I'm already set on new bands and albums to explore for at least 6 months. And yet I continue to seek and acquire. It's an addiction, but one I can live with and have every intention of feeding.
But it's snappy and has nice vocals, so it will do just fine for me today, thankyouverymuch.
"... if the sun doesn't shine, the sea doesn't care if you're lonesome tonight."
It's not the most interesting Bachmann tune, but I haven't heard anything from him since Crooked Fingers disbanded (tear), and it's nice to hear his voice again (tear two). He performed in Durham, NC several years back in the basement of the now defunct Bully's Cheeseburgers and Cheesesteaks, one of the many establishments that fell victim to my awkward waitressing "talents." I totally forgot there was a small poorly run music venue in the basement of that dump, and Crooked Fingers actually played there. Very random in retrospect. I met Mr. Bachmann after the show, shook his giant hand, and went generally speechless like I'm want to do in such scenarios. I think I muttered something about loving his music. Because I'm cool like that and very original. And that, my friends, was the beginning and the end of yet another passionately imaginary love affair.
I stayed in tonight in an attempt to make waking up early tomorrow a little easier. But here I am, clearly not sleeping. Instead I'm finally making my way through a foot-tall stack of stockpiled magazines and using this here blog to remind myself of a few interest-peakers. I'm very intrigued by this Shugo fellow. Here's another video that's visually right up my alley, and it looks like he's not too shabby live either.
"...life is just a lullaby."
I often find this song winding through my head. It's sort of become the musical accompaniment to gg's suggestion that I "be like water" when an inevitable descent into overanalysis strikes again.
"...who speaks with perfect diction
as he orders my eviction
as he acts with more conviction
than I."
Hear album version here.
And here I thought Foo was bad with all his sleep-twitching and pawing. But he's got nothing on Bizkit. I think Bizkit's got PTSD. Maybe he fought in 'Nam.
"...but you can't when you're laughing."
Here's another personal favorite (and then I'm moving on) from the Dark Was The Night compilation. This one's "So Far Around the Bend" by The National, the guys who made it happen.