Thursday, October 28, 2004
the working weak
There's an Arab Strap album called "The Week Never Starts Around Here." I begin to see the problem with that.
My work schedule was shifted around a little, having to work last Saturday and then Monday to Thursday... so it feels a little like having had no weekend. The casualty of this all has been my less-than-Tony Robbins-like motivation at work the past four days. The store, except for a little more clean vinyl and less loose paper, looks today more or less like it did on Monday. I've spent all my computer-sitting time at the lab poking around Bit Torrent sites or playing games at the Pogo.com site.
On the up side, from 10 pm tonight (Thursday) 'til 5 pm Monday I am free free freeeeeeeeee from work. Well almost.
The one "deadline" thing which must be taken care of over the (long) weekend is cobbling together my "best of 2004" lists for Exclaim magazine. Just doing the preliminary work today, though, it looks like it'll be a pretty easy task. I'll post my findings come Monday. Usually a few months after I make one of these "carved in stone" proclamations I come to realize that I don't particularly even like one or more of the albums I've put on my list. It may be a function of music for special occasions. If, like me, you are prone to sometimes latching onto and fostering a mental or emotional state well beyond the biological imperative would necessitate it, then you too might fall victim to music that fits your funk. No, no, no not funky music... which in fact is universally enjoyed by people who are, in fact, funk-less. Funky people usually don't need funky music... they generate a suitable layer of funk which carries them through life like a slipstream.
Rather, sometimes a record... or even just a song... comes along that just suits a mood, a moment. If that moment happens to be proximal to the year end list, by golly it'll likely show up there... and those statements of irreducible aesthetic fact are tough ones to go back and fix down the line.
On the other hand the weekend holds the possibility of re-listening to a lot of good music just to get it cemented in my mind as to how I, now, feel about it. And maybe drink a little beer while I'm doing it? Why not? It helps with judgement.
My work schedule was shifted around a little, having to work last Saturday and then Monday to Thursday... so it feels a little like having had no weekend. The casualty of this all has been my less-than-Tony Robbins-like motivation at work the past four days. The store, except for a little more clean vinyl and less loose paper, looks today more or less like it did on Monday. I've spent all my computer-sitting time at the lab poking around Bit Torrent sites or playing games at the Pogo.com site.
On the up side, from 10 pm tonight (Thursday) 'til 5 pm Monday I am free free freeeeeeeeee from work. Well almost.
The one "deadline" thing which must be taken care of over the (long) weekend is cobbling together my "best of 2004" lists for Exclaim magazine. Just doing the preliminary work today, though, it looks like it'll be a pretty easy task. I'll post my findings come Monday. Usually a few months after I make one of these "carved in stone" proclamations I come to realize that I don't particularly even like one or more of the albums I've put on my list. It may be a function of music for special occasions. If, like me, you are prone to sometimes latching onto and fostering a mental or emotional state well beyond the biological imperative would necessitate it, then you too might fall victim to music that fits your funk. No, no, no not funky music... which in fact is universally enjoyed by people who are, in fact, funk-less. Funky people usually don't need funky music... they generate a suitable layer of funk which carries them through life like a slipstream.
Rather, sometimes a record... or even just a song... comes along that just suits a mood, a moment. If that moment happens to be proximal to the year end list, by golly it'll likely show up there... and those statements of irreducible aesthetic fact are tough ones to go back and fix down the line.
On the other hand the weekend holds the possibility of re-listening to a lot of good music just to get it cemented in my mind as to how I, now, feel about it. And maybe drink a little beer while I'm doing it? Why not? It helps with judgement.
Friday, October 22, 2004
Expertise
Is there a safe and non-confrontational way to tell someone that they're stupid? Out of their depth? Barking up the wrong tree... if they even recognize that it's a tree they're trying to bark up in the first place... y'know?
Here's a Backstreet Moment for your consideration and amusement:
Scene: It's a little before noon and "GUY" comes into to the store. His gait is slightly bowed, as though he's spent a good long time on a fairly wide backed horse. This "GUY" has been in the store on a few occasions previously and things have never really gone all that well with him. He has a knack for asking questions which really can't be answered. So...
"GUY": Do you have the new Dead Beat CD?
Me: I'm not sure what CD you mean...
"GUY": It says on the poster downstairs that you have it.
Me: This is the first I hear of it.
"GUY": Right in the entry way... Dead Beat's First Words.
**note** First Words are a local Hip Hop crew, Dead Beat is the productions name they use... but the guy is thinking "First Words" is a new album by DEAD BEAT... so we work through that.
"GUY": What label is this on?
Me: It's not on a label, it's locally produced.
"GUY": What kind of music is it?
**note** Bear in mind this person came in to ask me specifically if I had this album.
Me: It's Hip Hop.
"GUY": Is it good?
Me: Yes.
"GUY": How does it sound?
Me: (a little sternly) Good.
**note** At this point the guy takes the disc and puts it back in the Local Artists section and flips through the rest of the discs.
"GUY": [I'm attempting to quote this exactly] In your circle of people or your listening what do you think is considered to be the best sounding of the local recording?
Me: (a little more sternly) I try not to give it too much thought.
**note** I finally remember that the last time the guy was in the store, about a year and a half ago, he was remarking to no one who'd actually care that he was laying out some cash to set up a recording studio because he thought the city needed one, given the diversity of talent and the... etc. etc. etc.
"GUY": How do you find the quality of most local recordings.
Me: I think they're all pretty good, especially now that all you need is a laptop and a microphone instead of a big studio set up.
"GUY": ...
**note** So the guy rambles around the 99 cent vinyl for a little while, still casually asking questions like, and I quote: "Who do you think the best all around drummer in town is?" Which I answer, truthfully, more or less... and this is followed by, "Who do you think is best for everything else?" EVERYTHING ELSE!!! He moves over to the used CDs pick up a couple and then asks: "How do you think what you're listening to [on the stereo in the store] influenced Led Zeppelin?" I tell him I'm listening to a 2004 Vandermark Five album, so I doubt it had much influence on Led Zeppelin whatsoever. Finally he buys his Tracy Chapman and Black Crowes CDs and is off... likely to produce the next Led Zeppelin via modern jazz masterpiece.
And I say good luck to him.
And good night to you all.
Here's a Backstreet Moment for your consideration and amusement:
Scene: It's a little before noon and "GUY" comes into to the store. His gait is slightly bowed, as though he's spent a good long time on a fairly wide backed horse. This "GUY" has been in the store on a few occasions previously and things have never really gone all that well with him. He has a knack for asking questions which really can't be answered. So...
"GUY": Do you have the new Dead Beat CD?
Me: I'm not sure what CD you mean...
"GUY": It says on the poster downstairs that you have it.
Me: This is the first I hear of it.
"GUY": Right in the entry way... Dead Beat's First Words.
**note** First Words are a local Hip Hop crew, Dead Beat is the productions name they use... but the guy is thinking "First Words" is a new album by DEAD BEAT... so we work through that.
"GUY": What label is this on?
Me: It's not on a label, it's locally produced.
"GUY": What kind of music is it?
**note** Bear in mind this person came in to ask me specifically if I had this album.
Me: It's Hip Hop.
"GUY": Is it good?
Me: Yes.
"GUY": How does it sound?
Me: (a little sternly) Good.
**note** At this point the guy takes the disc and puts it back in the Local Artists section and flips through the rest of the discs.
"GUY": [I'm attempting to quote this exactly] In your circle of people or your listening what do you think is considered to be the best sounding of the local recording?
Me: (a little more sternly) I try not to give it too much thought.
**note** I finally remember that the last time the guy was in the store, about a year and a half ago, he was remarking to no one who'd actually care that he was laying out some cash to set up a recording studio because he thought the city needed one, given the diversity of talent and the... etc. etc. etc.
"GUY": How do you find the quality of most local recordings.
Me: I think they're all pretty good, especially now that all you need is a laptop and a microphone instead of a big studio set up.
"GUY": ...
**note** So the guy rambles around the 99 cent vinyl for a little while, still casually asking questions like, and I quote: "Who do you think the best all around drummer in town is?" Which I answer, truthfully, more or less... and this is followed by, "Who do you think is best for everything else?" EVERYTHING ELSE!!! He moves over to the used CDs pick up a couple and then asks: "How do you think what you're listening to [on the stereo in the store] influenced Led Zeppelin?" I tell him I'm listening to a 2004 Vandermark Five album, so I doubt it had much influence on Led Zeppelin whatsoever. Finally he buys his Tracy Chapman and Black Crowes CDs and is off... likely to produce the next Led Zeppelin via modern jazz masterpiece.
And I say good luck to him.
And good night to you all.
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
Flooding out the dry spells
Five hours just crawls by when you have no extra credit work to do.
Backstreet Records is a store I've worked at for a perplexingly large fraction of my life. It is both the wind beneath my wings and the occasional toilet flushing of a commercial airliner from above.
When all is streaming along the new music pours in and pours right back out like the finest homemade tipple you've ever sampled... and with a better soundtrack too. However things occasionally stall... and when they do the tipple turns brackish and rises, subtly first, seeping through the bottom of the boat, then faster until the bailing must begin. Meanwhile the boat is stuffed with names and titles and phone numbers in ink on paper, and you have to keep moving them around so the ink won't wash off, but you have to keep bailing too. You know you're going to lose some of the names... others you will misread and call past the date decided upon... by then you're bewildered, and sodden, and ready to jump ship... arg.
But this is a cycle you see. Like the rain cycle. All that evaporation and condensation and reseeding. Next week I'll feel better.
If everyone will promise not to make me feel worse in the meantime.
I have to write down a plan. With out the extra credit work to do, at least IT will pass the time.
Yeah, suggestions... ideas... a plan.
A drier one.
Backstreet Records is a store I've worked at for a perplexingly large fraction of my life. It is both the wind beneath my wings and the occasional toilet flushing of a commercial airliner from above.
When all is streaming along the new music pours in and pours right back out like the finest homemade tipple you've ever sampled... and with a better soundtrack too. However things occasionally stall... and when they do the tipple turns brackish and rises, subtly first, seeping through the bottom of the boat, then faster until the bailing must begin. Meanwhile the boat is stuffed with names and titles and phone numbers in ink on paper, and you have to keep moving them around so the ink won't wash off, but you have to keep bailing too. You know you're going to lose some of the names... others you will misread and call past the date decided upon... by then you're bewildered, and sodden, and ready to jump ship... arg.
But this is a cycle you see. Like the rain cycle. All that evaporation and condensation and reseeding. Next week I'll feel better.
If everyone will promise not to make me feel worse in the meantime.
I have to write down a plan. With out the extra credit work to do, at least IT will pass the time.
Yeah, suggestions... ideas... a plan.
A drier one.
Friday, October 15, 2004
soup IS good food
...but when the bowl is empty and you still have half the night (2.5 hours) to kill in front of the computer, what do you do??
Well if you're me, though you're so clearly NOT, you head over to nena.de to see what is new in the world of post-99 luftbaloons German song.
If you're unfamiliar, Nena was the name of a German band that formed in the early 80s and had a monster hit in 1983 with the song "99 Luftbaloons." The lead singer, named Nena Kerner, was sexy due in large part to her sheer German-ness, all the more exotic in this era of pre-Berlin Wall demolishing, late Cold War malaise. The original video for the song was a cheap and easy "live performance" of the song in its original German. The only visual effect, other than Miss Kerner cavorting on stage in her sweaty t-shirt and black leather pants, was (if I remember correctly) a slow motion shot of a balloon rising, slow motion, in the air at the end of the video. Despite its rickety construction and because of the baffling popularity of the song the video rotated more heavily than a Richard Simmons aerobics class. This may also have much to do with the fact than seemingly only two dozen videos existed on the planet at the time.
The song was translated into an (inferior) English version meant, I suppose, to capture the hearts of music fans who harboured deep anti-German feelings... for whatever reason. A one-side German one-side English full length followed but failed to spawn another hit of the same caliber. The next English album "It's All in the Game" came out in 1985, with English translated lyrics supplied by Canadian Lisa Dalbello. It wasn't terrible, but the potential for a quirky, slightly awkward New Wave band to further ride the novelty of a foreign language hit was very slight, and they disappeared off the North American radar...
...which isn't to say they stopped. Nena is still going strong 20 years later, scoring a recent minor hit in the form of a duet with fellow 80s sexpot/light pop-rocker Kim Wilde. You can find it on the internet. It's easy.
There really isn't a moral to this story... if it's even a story.
Maybe it's that the 80s weren't terminal after all... or...
...some German comebacks are harder than others... or...
...well, it's o.k. to like Nena, long after you should've forgotten...
...some of us have an infinitely number of back burners.
I am one of those.
Well if you're me, though you're so clearly NOT, you head over to nena.de to see what is new in the world of post-99 luftbaloons German song.
If you're unfamiliar, Nena was the name of a German band that formed in the early 80s and had a monster hit in 1983 with the song "99 Luftbaloons." The lead singer, named Nena Kerner, was sexy due in large part to her sheer German-ness, all the more exotic in this era of pre-Berlin Wall demolishing, late Cold War malaise. The original video for the song was a cheap and easy "live performance" of the song in its original German. The only visual effect, other than Miss Kerner cavorting on stage in her sweaty t-shirt and black leather pants, was (if I remember correctly) a slow motion shot of a balloon rising, slow motion, in the air at the end of the video. Despite its rickety construction and because of the baffling popularity of the song the video rotated more heavily than a Richard Simmons aerobics class. This may also have much to do with the fact than seemingly only two dozen videos existed on the planet at the time.
The song was translated into an (inferior) English version meant, I suppose, to capture the hearts of music fans who harboured deep anti-German feelings... for whatever reason. A one-side German one-side English full length followed but failed to spawn another hit of the same caliber. The next English album "It's All in the Game" came out in 1985, with English translated lyrics supplied by Canadian Lisa Dalbello. It wasn't terrible, but the potential for a quirky, slightly awkward New Wave band to further ride the novelty of a foreign language hit was very slight, and they disappeared off the North American radar...
...which isn't to say they stopped. Nena is still going strong 20 years later, scoring a recent minor hit in the form of a duet with fellow 80s sexpot/light pop-rocker Kim Wilde. You can find it on the internet. It's easy.
There really isn't a moral to this story... if it's even a story.
Maybe it's that the 80s weren't terminal after all... or...
...some German comebacks are harder than others... or...
...well, it's o.k. to like Nena, long after you should've forgotten...
...some of us have an infinitely number of back burners.
I am one of those.
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
downsizing the turkey
Last week inexorably skidded into Thanksgiving... as it usually does this time of year. Bus travel north meant sharing space with those students who are homesick enough to take advantage of the first long weekend of the school year. They're an ok bunch (except maybe the cartoonishly disgruntled young man with the exceedingly mis-angled baseball hat... Campbellton doesn't have a ghetto, really... it mostly just IS one) and perhaps due to my long-practiced sphere of neutral/negativity (keep you headphones on and your nose in a book) I only had to make a tiny smidgen of small talk.
Campbellton and Matapedia (where my folks live now) insidiously makes me feel nostalgic, what with the pretty leaves and the miniaturization of society within the macro nature of the ...er ...nature. It simply feels like pressure is constantly being released from the geography up into the atmosphere.
The turkey was a chicken this year. No complaints. And I got to wax a floor... something I seldom happen upon in my day to day here.
Back at Backstreet the boxes and crates were waiting.
They are my constant companions.
Thanks for listening.
Your are not at all like the wind, which is cold and damp.
Campbellton and Matapedia (where my folks live now) insidiously makes me feel nostalgic, what with the pretty leaves and the miniaturization of society within the macro nature of the ...er ...nature. It simply feels like pressure is constantly being released from the geography up into the atmosphere.
The turkey was a chicken this year. No complaints. And I got to wax a floor... something I seldom happen upon in my day to day here.
Back at Backstreet the boxes and crates were waiting.
They are my constant companions.
Thanks for listening.
Your are not at all like the wind, which is cold and damp.
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
Flickr of Recognition
Growing in leaps and bounds... Learning to put pictures to the thousand (or less) words...
This is M. from last winter in a frozen quarry outside Durham in New Brunswick.
You can't see it really well but she's wearing her big, big toque.
We're both Canadians.
We {heart} our toques... and sometimes we {toque} our hearts.
30 poets, no waiting
Writers must be germy types. Two days of shaking hands and leafing through books have left me achy and throat-tickly. Although it could be hot day/cold night flip flop. Although it could be the french fry diet. Although it could be bad sleep punctuated with another 7 poets, another 5 poets, another 8 poets.
The cavalcade of readings at the end of Alden Nowlan festival revealed that gender, age and race are not the only subsets you can use to divvy up the poets of the world... we have the superfast/nervous readers... the supersoft/eyes-always-down readers... the make-a-joke-or-two-in-the-intro-then-get-super-serious readers... the high-pitch-high-volume-to-low-pitch-low-volume readers... and so on.
It was good to see Matt, Steve, Shane and Sue, and to meet Charmaine. It was also a little bit of ego-rattle to see everyone doing such excellent work when I've been so absent from this world for the last few years. Still... much pride for my peeps.
The work part of the day is ending. That has to be a good thing. I get to see M. in a bit. That is is is a good thing.
I want my head to work right again.
I want words that soothe bruises.
I want to do what I know I can do... until it's all done... and for the right reasons.
yes.
The cavalcade of readings at the end of Alden Nowlan festival revealed that gender, age and race are not the only subsets you can use to divvy up the poets of the world... we have the superfast/nervous readers... the supersoft/eyes-always-down readers... the make-a-joke-or-two-in-the-intro-then-get-super-serious readers... the high-pitch-high-volume-to-low-pitch-low-volume readers... and so on.
It was good to see Matt, Steve, Shane and Sue, and to meet Charmaine. It was also a little bit of ego-rattle to see everyone doing such excellent work when I've been so absent from this world for the last few years. Still... much pride for my peeps.
The work part of the day is ending. That has to be a good thing. I get to see M. in a bit. That is is is a good thing.
I want my head to work right again.
I want words that soothe bruises.
I want to do what I know I can do... until it's all done... and for the right reasons.
yes.
Friday, October 01, 2004
back to it, then
How long can you put a thing off???
What exactly brings about critical mass???
Is it forever... shorter? Is it many little things... one big one?
Let's say...
Let's see...
Let's go.
What exactly brings about critical mass???
Is it forever... shorter? Is it many little things... one big one?
Let's say...
Let's see...
Let's go.
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