The Futureheads - "Meantime" - The Futureheads
[right click the blue stuff]
I really wanted to post a song that epitomizes going out.
I'm not so sure this is the epitome of "going out," however I am certain that it does an accurate job of describing "the game" that people seem to be growing ever more disinterested in.
And you thought that I was joking
When I said you were a moron
When I said it I was smiling
So you thought that I was joking
We waste a lot of time having fruitless conversations with people that we're simply not interested in making small talk with. Let's forget it.
I know it seems rude, but I've taken to simply walking away from conversations like this. I don't mean to offend, but if there's no reason to continue, why stick around? I'm sure there's a better way for me to spend my time, as there would be for the other person. I'm sure we can pick up a conversation at a later time, maybe one that means something to both of us.
I hope, someday, for Mad magazine to release iron-on transfers for t-shirts that exclaim "Down with false conversation!" I'm sure that'll start a riot in a classroom somewhere.
I'd like to know whether that's a trash can that the drummer uses to count off at the start of the song. It's a really cool sound.
The Futureheads use of multiple guitars and off-kilter strumming patterns over a steady bassline is reminiscent of the Built To Spill song from earlier in the week. It's one of the things that The Futureheads do very well, along with harmonizing. Their vocal harmonies are typically in triplicate and tight.
Okay, I'm ready to go and outie like a preggers navel. Look for the disinterested one talking to the hot chick.
Love,
Hoffie
I really wanted to post a song that epitomizes going out.
I'm not so sure this is the epitome of "going out," however I am certain that it does an accurate job of describing "the game" that people seem to be growing ever more disinterested in.
And you thought that I was joking
When I said you were a moron
When I said it I was smiling
So you thought that I was joking
We waste a lot of time having fruitless conversations with people that we're simply not interested in making small talk with. Let's forget it.
I know it seems rude, but I've taken to simply walking away from conversations like this. I don't mean to offend, but if there's no reason to continue, why stick around? I'm sure there's a better way for me to spend my time, as there would be for the other person. I'm sure we can pick up a conversation at a later time, maybe one that means something to both of us.
I hope, someday, for Mad magazine to release iron-on transfers for t-shirts that exclaim "Down with false conversation!" I'm sure that'll start a riot in a classroom somewhere.
I'd like to know whether that's a trash can that the drummer uses to count off at the start of the song. It's a really cool sound.
The Futureheads use of multiple guitars and off-kilter strumming patterns over a steady bassline is reminiscent of the Built To Spill song from earlier in the week. It's one of the things that The Futureheads do very well, along with harmonizing. Their vocal harmonies are typically in triplicate and tight.
Okay, I'm ready to go and outie like a preggers navel. Look for the disinterested one talking to the hot chick.
Love,
Hoffie
[right click, tie dinosaur...]
Listen to the lyrics.
The first time I heard this song, I was getting plastered with my buddy Tyler Snow.
We used to have the occasional party at Tyler's house in high school. During the spring and summer, his parents seemed to be out of town quite a bit. It was a great house for partying. Ample parking, secluded deck, basement with plenty of seating, it had it all.
There were several parties, and one that sticks out most in my mind is one of the Thermos nights.
Thermos nights required the following: pint and a half of tequila, limeade, lemon-lime soda, 1 huge pink thermos, festive paper umbrellas, and my parents' absence allowing me time to make two blenders of margaritas to fill a giant pink Thermos. I'd make the massive dose of margarita, head out to my truck and strap the thermos into the passenger seat. Yes, I actually strapped the Thermos in, though I did stop short of buying it its own carseat.
I'd arrive at Tyler's around 8pm, and we'd begin drinking before people arrived. Most of the time, we'd listen to CDs that we'd recently bought. If there was anyone on the cutting edge of music in high school, Tyler Snow was that guy.
Anyway, we're listening to music, I drinking out of the bendy straw in my Thermos, he from the bendy straw in his flower vase.
Did I mention that at his house parties, Tyler drank exclusively from 18-inch-high flower vases? Oh, well, Tyler always drank from huge flower vases. Usually 3-5 beers per fill.
So, there we are, and he asks if I've heard the new Third Eye Blind. Of course, I hadn't, aside from the first single on the radio ("Never Let You Go"). He tells me that I've gotta hear this track.
We sat there and must have listened to it three or four times, and each time it seemed to get better. That night was also a great party. The Thermos was a hit as always, there were copious cigarettes smoked, and I kissed LaDonna! I ended up getting home around 4:45 that morning. The sun wasn't coming up over the horizon, but the sky was getting lighter.
I really like this song, because it seems like it's going to be a sensitive ballad, then suddenly, the first verse is about shooting the son of his english teacher.
*blinks*
Wait, what'd he say?
From there, it only gets more graphic and glorious. This song is intended to shock, then brings it home with the line "the joke's on you." Listener, this is a fabrication.
Love,
Hoffie
Listen to the lyrics.
The first time I heard this song, I was getting plastered with my buddy Tyler Snow.
We used to have the occasional party at Tyler's house in high school. During the spring and summer, his parents seemed to be out of town quite a bit. It was a great house for partying. Ample parking, secluded deck, basement with plenty of seating, it had it all.
There were several parties, and one that sticks out most in my mind is one of the Thermos nights.
Thermos nights required the following: pint and a half of tequila, limeade, lemon-lime soda, 1 huge pink thermos, festive paper umbrellas, and my parents' absence allowing me time to make two blenders of margaritas to fill a giant pink Thermos. I'd make the massive dose of margarita, head out to my truck and strap the thermos into the passenger seat. Yes, I actually strapped the Thermos in, though I did stop short of buying it its own carseat.
I'd arrive at Tyler's around 8pm, and we'd begin drinking before people arrived. Most of the time, we'd listen to CDs that we'd recently bought. If there was anyone on the cutting edge of music in high school, Tyler Snow was that guy.
Anyway, we're listening to music, I drinking out of the bendy straw in my Thermos, he from the bendy straw in his flower vase.
Did I mention that at his house parties, Tyler drank exclusively from 18-inch-high flower vases? Oh, well, Tyler always drank from huge flower vases. Usually 3-5 beers per fill.
So, there we are, and he asks if I've heard the new Third Eye Blind. Of course, I hadn't, aside from the first single on the radio ("Never Let You Go"). He tells me that I've gotta hear this track.
We sat there and must have listened to it three or four times, and each time it seemed to get better. That night was also a great party. The Thermos was a hit as always, there were copious cigarettes smoked, and I kissed LaDonna! I ended up getting home around 4:45 that morning. The sun wasn't coming up over the horizon, but the sky was getting lighter.
I really like this song, because it seems like it's going to be a sensitive ballad, then suddenly, the first verse is about shooting the son of his english teacher.
*blinks*
Wait, what'd he say?
From there, it only gets more graphic and glorious. This song is intended to shock, then brings it home with the line "the joke's on you." Listener, this is a fabrication.
Love,
Hoffie
Built To Spill - "Distopian Dream Girl" - There's Nothing Wrong With Love
[right clicky!]
Inspired by . . . well, a trip to my old station.
So, some may know that I was in Seattle over the past weekend. I didn't have internet access, and in the week leading up to my road trip, well, I's busy. Anyway, I've exhausted all my knowledge of the so-called "world wide web" and completely resolved the "server" issue (fingers crossed, in case we die). It's fucking cold out, I've got my second cup of tea for the evening and a tummy full of buttered toast . . .
So it resumes, crew of the 10,000 Ghost Mystery Machine.
I think I count four guitars during the intro, but it doesn't seem overwhelming like lots of guitar rock. A little jangly, or out of sorts, maybe apathetic . . .
Christ on a cracker. Those are not the descriptors I'm looking for. It'll come to me.
Onward...
Without me, there's nothing
I'm the only thing that dies
If it came down to your life or mine
I would do the stupid thing
And let you keep on living
Okay, set aside the super cool sound of the song, and lend ears to the chorus.
I took a Sociobiology course in my extensive studies at the degree factory on Lake Washington better known to most as the University of Washington. According to my professor, a Dr. Sievert Rowher, and my TA, Daaaan (I always said his name as though I was a stoner reading a fast food menu*), people sacrificing themselves so that another can live, from a strict sociobiological viewpoint is one of the stupidest acts that can be performed. Remember that Friends episode where Phoebe was trying to figure out if there was such thing as a truly selfless act? Well, I think that giving your life so that another may live might be up there. But it's fucking stupid.
Oh, but how romantic! I'm going to steal this quote at some point and see if it belongs in my forthcoming book, Things to Say That Increase Your Chances of Getting Laid. It's only for men though. Women, you have the power to get the sex whenever you want. I'll probably take out the "stupid" part though. As long as it still rhymes, I think I'll win. Here, "win" should be read as "get my dick wet" (substitute the parlance of your time folks of the future).
Okay, so I'm drinking black tea a lot now. Red Rose is cheap, you get 100 bags per box (I hesitate to think how the tea leaves are harvested and processed, or, rather, who is doing those tasks and what their working conditions/wages are like), and let us not forget the ceramic Noah's ark animal in each box. I got a cock in this one. It compliments the Cocklamp quite nicely. Oh, and there's less sugar than soda, so there's a bonus for my enamel.
Point being, I reccommend a lot of tea or coffee ingestion, then listen to this song (or album if you own it).
HAPHAZARD.
That's the word I'm looking for. More on this in a moment.
The tea! Oh, the tea! It's a relatively new experience to me, having caffeine sans sugar (from the Sanskrit sukkar, I did not know this). I've always always always been a Coke drinker, substituting Mountain Dew when the restaurant or eatery has Pepsi products. I like energy drinks, they taste yummy. My coffee drinks are iced and have syrups and milk overloading the bitter flavor. I used to watch Murder, She Wrote and Matlock with my grandparents when I was really young. They'd always offer me tea, but I had to put cream and sugar like crazy in it to make it palatable. So there's this whole new world of feeling what caffeine does for me alone. It's kinda cool, you know, for a drug.
Lots of caffeine little sugar. Do it, the song will wait.
Time for a call back. The intro guitars seem to be haphazardly thrown together, hastily arranged. But the herky-jerky-osity, a BTS trademark, man, isn't it cool? Okay, haphazardly, hastily, herky-jerky . . . does anyone have a thesaurus with more than just the H's?
Point being, it also tightens up the chorus that much more, the guitars go from a mess of sorts to a steady forceful hammer, driving the chorus home that much harder. The music of the chorus is truly a power stroke, driving the lyrical nail home.
Little in the way of pontificating, even the pompous side of me takes a vacation. Stay tuned, I've started receiving requests and advice on what to do next, I've only watched about four hours of non-competitive sport TV in the last week and I'm reading again. If I start regaining intelligence, fret not, I'll just stab my brain with a Q-Tip. I'll sacrifice my smart self for the good of the people who enjoy reading my stupid self. Tell your friends about the site, since it's running again, oh, and if you google "hoffie," this page comes up fifth! Somebody's egosearching!
Remember to email me suggestions, compliments or criticism: vicstarsky [at] gmail dot com. I only say criticism because it belongs with the compliments request, but I pollute when it comes to criticism.
For those wondering what the fuck that meant, here's the SAT question my mind ran through:
don't pollute : give a hoot :: pollute : don't give a hoot
To quote the great Ben Wilson, "Where am I?"
Love,
Hoffie
* - I saw Dan a couple years after taking that class, and said what's up. He didn't recognize me, so I said it again, What's up, Daaaan? He remembered me right away, priceless facial expression included. I loved torturing TAs.
Inspired by . . . well, a trip to my old station.
So, some may know that I was in Seattle over the past weekend. I didn't have internet access, and in the week leading up to my road trip, well, I's busy. Anyway, I've exhausted all my knowledge of the so-called "world wide web" and completely resolved the "server" issue (fingers crossed, in case we die). It's fucking cold out, I've got my second cup of tea for the evening and a tummy full of buttered toast . . .
So it resumes, crew of the 10,000 Ghost Mystery Machine.
I think I count four guitars during the intro, but it doesn't seem overwhelming like lots of guitar rock. A little jangly, or out of sorts, maybe apathetic . . .
Christ on a cracker. Those are not the descriptors I'm looking for. It'll come to me.
Onward...
Without me, there's nothing
I'm the only thing that dies
If it came down to your life or mine
I would do the stupid thing
And let you keep on living
Okay, set aside the super cool sound of the song, and lend ears to the chorus.
I took a Sociobiology course in my extensive studies at the degree factory on Lake Washington better known to most as the University of Washington. According to my professor, a Dr. Sievert Rowher, and my TA, Daaaan (I always said his name as though I was a stoner reading a fast food menu*), people sacrificing themselves so that another can live, from a strict sociobiological viewpoint is one of the stupidest acts that can be performed. Remember that Friends episode where Phoebe was trying to figure out if there was such thing as a truly selfless act? Well, I think that giving your life so that another may live might be up there. But it's fucking stupid.
Oh, but how romantic! I'm going to steal this quote at some point and see if it belongs in my forthcoming book, Things to Say That Increase Your Chances of Getting Laid. It's only for men though. Women, you have the power to get the sex whenever you want. I'll probably take out the "stupid" part though. As long as it still rhymes, I think I'll win. Here, "win" should be read as "get my dick wet" (substitute the parlance of your time folks of the future).
Okay, so I'm drinking black tea a lot now. Red Rose is cheap, you get 100 bags per box (I hesitate to think how the tea leaves are harvested and processed, or, rather, who is doing those tasks and what their working conditions/wages are like), and let us not forget the ceramic Noah's ark animal in each box. I got a cock in this one. It compliments the Cocklamp quite nicely. Oh, and there's less sugar than soda, so there's a bonus for my enamel.
Point being, I reccommend a lot of tea or coffee ingestion, then listen to this song (or album if you own it).
HAPHAZARD.
That's the word I'm looking for. More on this in a moment.
The tea! Oh, the tea! It's a relatively new experience to me, having caffeine sans sugar (from the Sanskrit sukkar, I did not know this). I've always always always been a Coke drinker, substituting Mountain Dew when the restaurant or eatery has Pepsi products. I like energy drinks, they taste yummy. My coffee drinks are iced and have syrups and milk overloading the bitter flavor. I used to watch Murder, She Wrote and Matlock with my grandparents when I was really young. They'd always offer me tea, but I had to put cream and sugar like crazy in it to make it palatable. So there's this whole new world of feeling what caffeine does for me alone. It's kinda cool, you know, for a drug.
Lots of caffeine little sugar. Do it, the song will wait.
Time for a call back. The intro guitars seem to be haphazardly thrown together, hastily arranged. But the herky-jerky-osity, a BTS trademark, man, isn't it cool? Okay, haphazardly, hastily, herky-jerky . . . does anyone have a thesaurus with more than just the H's?
Point being, it also tightens up the chorus that much more, the guitars go from a mess of sorts to a steady forceful hammer, driving the chorus home that much harder. The music of the chorus is truly a power stroke, driving the lyrical nail home.
Little in the way of pontificating, even the pompous side of me takes a vacation. Stay tuned, I've started receiving requests and advice on what to do next, I've only watched about four hours of non-competitive sport TV in the last week and I'm reading again. If I start regaining intelligence, fret not, I'll just stab my brain with a Q-Tip. I'll sacrifice my smart self for the good of the people who enjoy reading my stupid self. Tell your friends about the site, since it's running again, oh, and if you google "hoffie," this page comes up fifth! Somebody's egosearching!
Remember to email me suggestions, compliments or criticism: vicstarsky [at] gmail dot com. I only say criticism because it belongs with the compliments request, but I pollute when it comes to criticism.
For those wondering what the fuck that meant, here's the SAT question my mind ran through:
don't pollute : give a hoot :: pollute : don't give a hoot
To quote the great Ben Wilson, "Where am I?"
Love,
Hoffie
* - I saw Dan a couple years after taking that class, and said what's up. He didn't recognize me, so I said it again, What's up, Daaaan? He remembered me right away, priceless facial expression included. I loved torturing TAs.
Peter Gabriel - "In Your Eyes" - So
I think I might go as Lloyd Dobler for Halloween this year.
Peter Gabriel's career may have hit an apex with this album. "Sledgehammer" (and that video!), "Big Time," "Red Rain," and "In Your Eyes" are a murderer's row of classic 80's tracks, and they comprise nearly one-third of this album's runtime. Bonus point, "In Your Eyes" was never a single in Britain, nor did it crack the top-20 in America. This kills me, since, in retrospect, this record is such a gem, especially so in comparison to the other crap which did manage to chart.
Lyrically, this is one of the finest love songs to come of the 80's, perhaps of any decade. It's earnest but without sounding like cheese. It's the credible counterpart to "Take Me Home Tonight" by Eddie Money, which is totally Velveeta.
In your eyes
I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light
The heat I see in your eyes
How incredibly hot. Had I a vagina, or even a sexy pair of underoos, I'd most certainly be bombarding Mr. Gabriel in concert.
The music is fairly simple, four huge-sounding piano chords during the verse, ultimate lack of guitar at the forefront of any portion, synthesizer during the pre-chorus and chorus. Peter Gabriel, known for the implementation of African rhythms certainly employed them well on this track; the cymbal, congas and backing vocals during the chorus, as well as the African sub-lead vocal during the outro sound amazing.
The fact that Cameron Crowe, a man with impeccable music taste, chose this song for Say Anything... lends it that much more street cred. That the song's inspiration was Rosanna Arquette, well, I'm not quite sure what to think. I mean, can you imagine if Peter Gabriel would have had a muse that wasn't fugly? The resulting composition probably would have brought about the peace on earth that only Wyld Stallyns are capable of, that's how good it would have been had he chosen a different member of the female species.
I wonder if it was distracting for him, having images of her in his head while in the studio recording the vocals. And don't give me any of that "she was hot for an 80's chick" jibber jabber. People weren't uglier on the whole in the 80's, more often than not it was the fashion that made a pretty girl less than. In Rosanna Arquette's case, she's just icky, and barely tolerable as an actress. Guh.
Back to the song, it fucking melts my brain. It's amazingly good, I'll go as far as to say "timeless." This is the sound of a man bearing his soul to the woman he's in love/like/infatuation with.
...I get so tired of working so hard for our survival
I look to the time with you to keep me awake and alive...
...Without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside...
Let's clasp our hands below our chins and partake in one big simultaneous "Awwww..."
Love,
Hoffie
I think I might go as Lloyd Dobler for Halloween this year.
Peter Gabriel's career may have hit an apex with this album. "Sledgehammer" (and that video!), "Big Time," "Red Rain," and "In Your Eyes" are a murderer's row of classic 80's tracks, and they comprise nearly one-third of this album's runtime. Bonus point, "In Your Eyes" was never a single in Britain, nor did it crack the top-20 in America. This kills me, since, in retrospect, this record is such a gem, especially so in comparison to the other crap which did manage to chart.
Lyrically, this is one of the finest love songs to come of the 80's, perhaps of any decade. It's earnest but without sounding like cheese. It's the credible counterpart to "Take Me Home Tonight" by Eddie Money, which is totally Velveeta.
In your eyes
I want to be that complete
I want to touch the light
The heat I see in your eyes
How incredibly hot. Had I a vagina, or even a sexy pair of underoos, I'd most certainly be bombarding Mr. Gabriel in concert.
The music is fairly simple, four huge-sounding piano chords during the verse, ultimate lack of guitar at the forefront of any portion, synthesizer during the pre-chorus and chorus. Peter Gabriel, known for the implementation of African rhythms certainly employed them well on this track; the cymbal, congas and backing vocals during the chorus, as well as the African sub-lead vocal during the outro sound amazing.
The fact that Cameron Crowe, a man with impeccable music taste, chose this song for Say Anything... lends it that much more street cred. That the song's inspiration was Rosanna Arquette, well, I'm not quite sure what to think. I mean, can you imagine if Peter Gabriel would have had a muse that wasn't fugly? The resulting composition probably would have brought about the peace on earth that only Wyld Stallyns are capable of, that's how good it would have been had he chosen a different member of the female species.
I wonder if it was distracting for him, having images of her in his head while in the studio recording the vocals. And don't give me any of that "she was hot for an 80's chick" jibber jabber. People weren't uglier on the whole in the 80's, more often than not it was the fashion that made a pretty girl less than. In Rosanna Arquette's case, she's just icky, and barely tolerable as an actress. Guh.
Back to the song, it fucking melts my brain. It's amazingly good, I'll go as far as to say "timeless." This is the sound of a man bearing his soul to the woman he's in love/like/infatuation with.
...I get so tired of working so hard for our survival
I look to the time with you to keep me awake and alive...
...Without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside...
Let's clasp our hands below our chins and partake in one big simultaneous "Awwww..."
Love,
Hoffie
Pixies - "Gigantic" - Surfer Rosa
I have seen this performed live on, um, three occasions, I think.
Only one time was I fortunate enough to see Kim Deal sing and play this sexiest of sexy ditties. It's very voyeuristic, this song.
You see, it's about watching two people, you know, do it. Specifically, a black man and a white chick. I'm left wondering if this was Kid Rock's inspiration for the seminal closing track from Devil Without a Cause, "Black Chick, White Guy."
Kim Deal just sounds super hot, purring over the steady bassline, and the jammy guitar bits toward the end are spectacularly huge in sound.
My favorite part, instrument-wise, is the guitar bridge, with the single notes. Damn that's funky.
Oh, back to the part about seeing this song. I saw it once a long time ago, and for the life of me cannot recall which band did it. Accoriding to wikipedia, Reel Big Fish covered this for a tribute album, so there's a good chance they covered the song one of the times I saw them. That's why I think I've seen it three times.
The second was when The Frames, opening for Damien Rice, covered it at the Commodore Ballroom in Vacouver, British Columbia. I was with Jenne and Joel. We learned from a sign in Vancouver that it is a "Nuclear Weapons Free Zone." I wonder if that's talking about the city as a whole, or just the park by which we saw the sign. Always nice to see a fusion-free swingset. Anyway, good times, fun trip.
The last time I saw it was at the 2004 Coachella Music & Arts Festival. Ryan was there, and we made sure to get to the main stage early in order to have prime viewing for the Pixies/Radiohead back-to-back sets. We ended up with our backs against the sound booth, dead center, leaning over a railing. On the other side of the railing? Nothing, just a long walkway directly to the stage that afforded us a perfect view of the entire event. Fucking. A.
I thought my head was going to explode when I heard it. Seriously. Kim still sounds great.
Anway, I dropped her name yesterday in the Mon Frere post, so I thought I could probably see my way to posting something featuring the ever-lovely Kim Deal.
And, yes, I know she has a kid and is married and is a little older than me, but I still totally have a crush on her. Maybe I'll leave this one up for a while in the hopes that a Cease & Desist order would bear her phone number...
Love,
Hoffie
I have seen this performed live on, um, three occasions, I think.
Only one time was I fortunate enough to see Kim Deal sing and play this sexiest of sexy ditties. It's very voyeuristic, this song.
You see, it's about watching two people, you know, do it. Specifically, a black man and a white chick. I'm left wondering if this was Kid Rock's inspiration for the seminal closing track from Devil Without a Cause, "Black Chick, White Guy."
Kim Deal just sounds super hot, purring over the steady bassline, and the jammy guitar bits toward the end are spectacularly huge in sound.
My favorite part, instrument-wise, is the guitar bridge, with the single notes. Damn that's funky.
Oh, back to the part about seeing this song. I saw it once a long time ago, and for the life of me cannot recall which band did it. Accoriding to wikipedia, Reel Big Fish covered this for a tribute album, so there's a good chance they covered the song one of the times I saw them. That's why I think I've seen it three times.
The second was when The Frames, opening for Damien Rice, covered it at the Commodore Ballroom in Vacouver, British Columbia. I was with Jenne and Joel. We learned from a sign in Vancouver that it is a "Nuclear Weapons Free Zone." I wonder if that's talking about the city as a whole, or just the park by which we saw the sign. Always nice to see a fusion-free swingset. Anyway, good times, fun trip.
The last time I saw it was at the 2004 Coachella Music & Arts Festival. Ryan was there, and we made sure to get to the main stage early in order to have prime viewing for the Pixies/Radiohead back-to-back sets. We ended up with our backs against the sound booth, dead center, leaning over a railing. On the other side of the railing? Nothing, just a long walkway directly to the stage that afforded us a perfect view of the entire event. Fucking. A.
I thought my head was going to explode when I heard it. Seriously. Kim still sounds great.
Anway, I dropped her name yesterday in the Mon Frere post, so I thought I could probably see my way to posting something featuring the ever-lovely Kim Deal.
And, yes, I know she has a kid and is married and is a little older than me, but I still totally have a crush on her. Maybe I'll leave this one up for a while in the hopes that a Cease & Desist order would bear her phone number...
Love,
Hoffie
Mon Frere - "Y.M.M.W.D.S.B." - Blood, Sweat & Swords
Seattle has found it's newest Kim Deal (good looking, great voice, plays a sexy instrument), and I'd say she is more than a little pissed off.
Okay, let's begin with the ridiculously addictive synthesizer. Holy cow. I still remember the first time I previewed this track in the RainyDawg studio. I needed nothing more than the introduction to know that I wanted to play it on my show IMMEDIATELY. Throw Nouela's killer mic control into the mix with the cool-as-hell single string guitar during the verses and it's a hit.
Winners of EMP's SoundOff competition in 2005 (all bands must be under age), this three piece was presented with a lot of cool stuff, including studio time. They recorded a rad EP, recipient of lots of well-deserved hype at the ol' station. Cake Records said, hey, let's do business, bubbie.
This is the lead track from their Cake Records debut, and all I know is that I'm glad to be sitting on my couch in Spokane, assured of the fact that I'm not the target of Nouela's venom. I assume I'm not, since this song was written before I had a chance to meet her.
Not only is she pissed, she wants to die. Either he goes, she goes, or she goes home and sledgehammers some Littlest Hobo figurines. Somebody did a number on this lip-ringed cutie.
I'll say it once, I'll say it again:
I wanna watch you beg
I wanna hear you cry
I wanna watch you die
It's that last line (and that she's willing to say it multiple times), the way she wails it that really, I mean REALLY, sold me on this record. The way she squeezes the very last of her lungs onto the tape during the last chorus is damn cool too. Did I mention that she plays the keys on this track too? Hot damn.
Cool points: Mon Frere has no bassist. Keys, a huge guitar sound and driving drums. Simple and effective.
Bonus cool points: Mon Frere played the RainyDawg Radio Birthday Bash this past year. Free shows are THE BEST!
Love,
Hoffie
Seattle has found it's newest Kim Deal (good looking, great voice, plays a sexy instrument), and I'd say she is more than a little pissed off.
Okay, let's begin with the ridiculously addictive synthesizer. Holy cow. I still remember the first time I previewed this track in the RainyDawg studio. I needed nothing more than the introduction to know that I wanted to play it on my show IMMEDIATELY. Throw Nouela's killer mic control into the mix with the cool-as-hell single string guitar during the verses and it's a hit.
Winners of EMP's SoundOff competition in 2005 (all bands must be under age), this three piece was presented with a lot of cool stuff, including studio time. They recorded a rad EP, recipient of lots of well-deserved hype at the ol' station. Cake Records said, hey, let's do business, bubbie.
This is the lead track from their Cake Records debut, and all I know is that I'm glad to be sitting on my couch in Spokane, assured of the fact that I'm not the target of Nouela's venom. I assume I'm not, since this song was written before I had a chance to meet her.
Not only is she pissed, she wants to die. Either he goes, she goes, or she goes home and sledgehammers some Littlest Hobo figurines. Somebody did a number on this lip-ringed cutie.
I'll say it once, I'll say it again:
I wanna watch you beg
I wanna hear you cry
I wanna watch you die
It's that last line (and that she's willing to say it multiple times), the way she wails it that really, I mean REALLY, sold me on this record. The way she squeezes the very last of her lungs onto the tape during the last chorus is damn cool too. Did I mention that she plays the keys on this track too? Hot damn.
Cool points: Mon Frere has no bassist. Keys, a huge guitar sound and driving drums. Simple and effective.
Bonus cool points: Mon Frere played the RainyDawg Radio Birthday Bash this past year. Free shows are THE BEST!
Love,
Hoffie
Rage Against The Machine - "War Within A Breath" - The Battle Of Los Angeles
If your speakers are not dangerously close to blowing, your eyes not dangerously close to tears, your ire not close to full, you need to re-evaluate how you listen to this song.
Every official that come in
Cripples us, leaves us maimed
Silent and tamed
And with our flesh and bones
He builds his homes
Ostensibly, this song is about the struggle for immigrant rights in the area surrounding Los Angeles. Zach De La Rocha is inciting those who are oppressed by the policy levied against them to rise up and take back a city that is built upon their efforts. Cripes, it's the final track on an album titled The Battle Of Los Angeles. You thought it was going to be chocolate chip cookies and handjobs?
Speaking as though from a podium in front of a rally at the Lincoln Memorial, De La Rocha is pissed. Like that's a big departure, but he seems especially angry here.
The distorted vocals that open the track from the left channel contrast with the heavily effect-laden guitar part in the right channel. The guitar is harsh and relentless, reminiscent of a Public Enemy beat, for this you can thank the folks at DigiTech for producing the Whammy pedal. Timmy C's wah-wah bass line smoothes out the song during the verses. Tom Morello's insane ability to structure riffs around simple progressions of thirds and fifths lends a heavy weight to the choruses.
Think of this more like a call to arms for everyone. I personally can't relate to the struggles of the average migrant in America. I can relate to the feeling of struggling for that which seems unattainable.
Everything can change on a new year's day.
Not the holiday, specifically, but tomorrow, or the next day. Whenever you strike out against a struggle, that's your new year's day. All it takes is a single breath to effect change.
Next time you're taken to task, will your next breath be the catalyst of change?
Love,
Hoffie
PS - Server issues have prevented me from posting the past two days, so I'm making up for it. This was to be Monday's song.
If your speakers are not dangerously close to blowing, your eyes not dangerously close to tears, your ire not close to full, you need to re-evaluate how you listen to this song.
Every official that come in
Cripples us, leaves us maimed
Silent and tamed
And with our flesh and bones
He builds his homes
Ostensibly, this song is about the struggle for immigrant rights in the area surrounding Los Angeles. Zach De La Rocha is inciting those who are oppressed by the policy levied against them to rise up and take back a city that is built upon their efforts. Cripes, it's the final track on an album titled The Battle Of Los Angeles. You thought it was going to be chocolate chip cookies and handjobs?
Speaking as though from a podium in front of a rally at the Lincoln Memorial, De La Rocha is pissed. Like that's a big departure, but he seems especially angry here.
The distorted vocals that open the track from the left channel contrast with the heavily effect-laden guitar part in the right channel. The guitar is harsh and relentless, reminiscent of a Public Enemy beat, for this you can thank the folks at DigiTech for producing the Whammy pedal. Timmy C's wah-wah bass line smoothes out the song during the verses. Tom Morello's insane ability to structure riffs around simple progressions of thirds and fifths lends a heavy weight to the choruses.
Think of this more like a call to arms for everyone. I personally can't relate to the struggles of the average migrant in America. I can relate to the feeling of struggling for that which seems unattainable.
Everything can change on a new year's day.
Not the holiday, specifically, but tomorrow, or the next day. Whenever you strike out against a struggle, that's your new year's day. All it takes is a single breath to effect change.
Next time you're taken to task, will your next breath be the catalyst of change?
Love,
Hoffie
PS - Server issues have prevented me from posting the past two days, so I'm making up for it. This was to be Monday's song.
Voxtrot - "Long Haul" - Raised By Wolves [EP]
Currently, my favorite song to hear when I wake up.
In an earlier Ghost, I noted that Al Green's "Love and Happiness" was my ringtone for non-related callers bestowed with two X-chromosomes. Currently, and for the foreseeable future, this is the ringtone which serves that purpose. As a guy, who is single, it's nice to receive calls or text messages from the females. Ladies, this song is currently yours.
Check the guitar. Backed by a simple bass line, the instrument tells its own tale through two double-upstroked guitar chords followed by a snaking lead line. It's so glimmery and shiny that I feel like putting on some aviators. Throw in the xylophone lightly backing it; great googly-moogly, we're experiencing quite the twee-gasm.
There's a very 60's-esque quality about the recording itself; with the reverb-drenched rhythm guitar, the plain and effective bass, the xylophone and acoustic guitars hiding in the sheets, and overall dreamy soundscape harken to the hits found on local oldies stations. There's a reason the ratings for oldies stations are consistently among the top stations in every market. Hits!
And how about those hand claps in the outro?
There's a very earnest quality to Ramesh Srivastava's tenor. Not as "thin and breathy" as the voice of his contemporary Ben Gibbard, Srivastava's voice comes through extraordinarily clear, and seems very original.
The singer sounds like a man baring himself, laying it on the line for the target(s) of his affection. I am of the opinion that this song is intended for a general target audience, that being women. Employing "you" in the later verses would make many a listener think that this ditty is directed at a single person.
Look at the statement, "I wanna catch a love and make it stay." The target of certain lines may be a past love which did not work out, but the overwhelming message from above is "Ladies, Ramesh is on the prowl, and he wants 'forever.'"
Give the poor man a chance, he's bursting at the seams with love to give! I'm sure he'd sing you songs, maybe even write one about you. Or include one of your inside jokes in the liner notes. Or a picture of you, but just in the background.
Love,
Hoffie
The Von Bondies "C'mon C'mon" - Pawn Shoppe Heart
A simple and addictive surf rock-inspired riff.
The thing that is most often overlooked is the buried guitar playing fills in the background. This is one of my favorite production tricks. As a fan of el guitado and Mr. Spector's "Wall of Sound," I love it when there's more to the song's guitars than just the rhythm, solo and obvious fills.
With my teeth locked down I can see the blood
Of a thousand men who've come and gone
I can't say for what reason, but I really like these lines. They just seem cool, and make sense, ya'know?
I love that it's so short. It gets the job done and does so quickly. Listen to it a couple of times and expect an earworm in the next day or two.
It's because the whole song repeats itself twice over a catchy riff, kind of like a jingle. The vocals could be described through music patterning as [A1-B C-B D A2-B C-B D D E]. There's the chorus (D), actually repeated three times. That's to be expected though. There's a second part (C), repeated in each verse, that functions more like a pre-chorus than anything else. The verses each end with the part labeled B. The coda has different lines, perhaps as a means to stress their importance.
Since the A1, A2 and C parts are so short and very simliar in vocal patterning, we can essentially eliminate them from the bracket. The song goes from the above (look up between the brackets, then look back here) to [B B D B B D D E]. Throughout the song, there is little variation between the intro riff, the verse and the chorus, all having the same chord progression. The melodies remain constant as well. Under this assumption, that the verses and choruses are so similar, the song could become [A A A A A A A B], where A is the B's and D's and, here, B is the coda (E from above).
Deductive logic shows that this song is a jingle. Repetition of slight variations on a theme beat into your brain that you enjoy it. Kind of like a Bill Simmons column. The major difference between this song and the Sports Guy is that I haven't grown tired of it in the past two years. It's great!
But don't be fooled by the repeated lines of:
Now we grieve cause now is gone
Things were good when we were young
Because the end, the emphasis, is on the following
...a million lies that speak no truth
Of a time gone by that now is through
This song is about looking to the future and fretting not about the past. What's done is done folks, so C'mon C'mon.
Love,
Hoffie
A simple and addictive surf rock-inspired riff.
The thing that is most often overlooked is the buried guitar playing fills in the background. This is one of my favorite production tricks. As a fan of el guitado and Mr. Spector's "Wall of Sound," I love it when there's more to the song's guitars than just the rhythm, solo and obvious fills.
With my teeth locked down I can see the blood
Of a thousand men who've come and gone
I can't say for what reason, but I really like these lines. They just seem cool, and make sense, ya'know?
I love that it's so short. It gets the job done and does so quickly. Listen to it a couple of times and expect an earworm in the next day or two.
It's because the whole song repeats itself twice over a catchy riff, kind of like a jingle. The vocals could be described through music patterning as [A1-B C-B D A2-B C-B D D E]. There's the chorus (D), actually repeated three times. That's to be expected though. There's a second part (C), repeated in each verse, that functions more like a pre-chorus than anything else. The verses each end with the part labeled B. The coda has different lines, perhaps as a means to stress their importance.
Since the A1, A2 and C parts are so short and very simliar in vocal patterning, we can essentially eliminate them from the bracket. The song goes from the above (look up between the brackets, then look back here) to [B B D B B D D E]. Throughout the song, there is little variation between the intro riff, the verse and the chorus, all having the same chord progression. The melodies remain constant as well. Under this assumption, that the verses and choruses are so similar, the song could become [A A A A A A A B], where A is the B's and D's and, here, B is the coda (E from above).
Deductive logic shows that this song is a jingle. Repetition of slight variations on a theme beat into your brain that you enjoy it. Kind of like a Bill Simmons column. The major difference between this song and the Sports Guy is that I haven't grown tired of it in the past two years. It's great!
But don't be fooled by the repeated lines of:
Now we grieve cause now is gone
Things were good when we were young
Because the end, the emphasis, is on the following
...a million lies that speak no truth
Of a time gone by that now is through
This song is about looking to the future and fretting not about the past. What's done is done folks, so C'mon C'mon.
Love,
Hoffie
Nirvana - "On A Plain" - Nevermind
It's all about me.
Not the song. This song is obviously about the man who wrote it. But there are certain truths which we can glean from its words.
I love myself better than you
I know it's wrong so what should I do?
Let's just straighten this out from the get go, there's nothing wrong with a little bit of narcissism. It's healthy. After all is said and done, who's going to be there for you in the end? If a person doesn't hold themself in high esteem, why should anyone else?
There's a vast difference between being cocky and confident; both, though, involve elements of self-love.
A cocky person is one who is narcissistic and cares little for the welfare of others. Their perspective is skewed to a degree which makes them socially less-acceptable.
The confident person is narcissistic, yet cares greatly for the welfare and feelings of others. Love of self, yet compassion for others. Often times, people make the mistake of calling someone cocky due to jealous motives. There is a typical misunderstanding of the "cocky" person's confidence by persons who have less than stellar self-esteem.
I'm fine with being called either, cocky or confident, for I care little about how I am judged or perceived by persons who do not closely know me. Nearly all who do know me well would call me confident. It's true, I love myself, and after this point in the lyric is where Mr. Cobain and I diverge. Narcissism may have been his downfall, but narcissism keeps me on the path which I need to follow. It's not wrong.
I'm on a plain, mmmm
I can't complain, mmmm
I'm on a plain, mmmm
It's still my 25th birthday for just a shade over an hour. For the duration of October 6th, it's all about me.
It's been a damn fine day, with promise left.
I don't even care that you weren't here to enjoy it with me. But if you were lucky enough to spend time with me today, or any other day, con-grat-u-freakin-lations.
How much of this is how I really feel and how much of it is simply for shock or contemplative value? I'll leave that to the reader to figure out.
Love,
Hoffie
