gluttony... and other good sins

I probably couldn't handle jet lag. I can't even handle bus lag.

Spent the weekend in Florenceville, NB... and for a toddlin' li'l town there was a go-go-go kinda atmosphere... in the best of all possible ways, mind you.

Worked 'til 5pm on Saturday then raced around returning/renting movies, checking e-mail for possible (and, unfortunately, actual) store cock-ups to affect my inner peace, and peeling through Harvey's for an on-the-run dinner of buffalo chicken and poutine... just want you want in prep for an extended period of sitting down.

The bus atmosphere was dominated by a "sweatshirt mom"... a term I've come to apply to young women who have fairly obviously unplanned pregnancies and are coping with the stress of taking care of a little human and losing their figure beneath the swath of a ROOTS hoodie... trying to placate her toddler with the fun, fun blue lights of her cell phone. I didn't think it possible for children to burst into tears more than 4 time per minute, but this little guy proved me wrong. At the front... sittling in the aisle to the left of the bus driver... was a gentleman in his 50s who, apparently from the unavoidably overheard conversation, worked with the driver's son on a road construction crew. The gentleman, you see, spoke loudly in a manner one assumes has everything to do with working around heavy machinery every day for 30 years. Ergo I've learned of the plans for a: NEW BRIDGE IN FLORENCEVILLE BECAUSE THE OLD ONE IS NO GOOD... CROOKED, and later projects such as going to Fort McMurray in BC to: CHANGE A RIVER... MAKE IT HIGHER... ON THE BANKS... FOR THE LEVEL. Yeah.

Florenceville itself was punctuated by three meals, two by invitation at other folks' houses and one just with Mandy and I trying out a page from the American Sandwich book...

...we made the Conneticut offering... a Cobb Chicken Salad Wrap with a side of Men's Favourite Coleslaw and Fried Sweet Potatoes... both adapted from recipes in an anniversary edition of Gourmet magazine (sorry Mandy, I forget the actual name of the potato dish).

This morning we made a little trip into Houlton to an Organic cafe and a book sale at Marden's (kind of a clearing house for liquidated goods from other retail stores). Had some good coffee, a panini and found cheap fiction from Chuch Palahniuk, Denis Johnston and Jonathan Lethem, amongst others.

We headed back to Woodstock where I had to catch the bus to come back to Fredericton in time... well, actually, about a half hour late... for work tonight. As we arrived at the Irving in Woodstock we saw that the bus had already pulled in and was unpacking it's mail so we parked quickity split and I grabbed my bags and waited to board... bidding Mandy a fond adieu.

Now it's important to note at this point that my bus ticket was a round trip to Fredericton-Florenceville/Florenceville-Fredericton.

I got on the bus and installed my headphones... though it seemed like a much quieter crowd... and planned a drowsy hour and a half of music filled relaxation on the way to F'ton. As I occasionally opened my eyes and glanced out the window at the sun-gilded fields dappled with snow coasting by I had an uneasy feeling... something not out of place at any time during bus travel. I couldn't quite pinpoint the reasons for the uneasiness so I let the feeling go. It wasn't until 10-15 minutes later that I realized what this uneasiness was borne of: I was on the wrong bus. This became evident as I spied the Hartland bridge (longest covered etc.) coming up in the distance... a site I should be leaving behind.

What happened was I hadn't checked the actual departure time of the bus from Woodstock for Fredericton... simply assumed, bus here... get on bus... go vroom. This was the bus that had just left Fredericton and was on it's way to Montreal. The driver seeing Florenceville on my ticket (though as a departure point instead of an arrival) blanked and let me on despite the oppositeness of our paths. When I brought this to his attention at the Hartland Irving he looked not so much peeved as indifferent... but I managed to get my original ticket back from him with an agreement to drop me back off in Florenceville where I planned to try the whole thing again the next morning... figuring I could call and once Dana and Vickie were done laughing at me they could close the lab up, given it's March break and traffic is light. Much to my surprise the driver radioed ahead to the bus I was actually supposed to be on and the two met across the highway between Flo-ville and H-land. I sheepishly crossed over and sat my ass down and headed East... young man.

Tonight's track is from the CD I listened to in an effort to give audience to my chaos... a brand new, 2006 release on Temporary Residence records by a duo called The Ladies made up of Zach, the drummer from Hella and Rob Crow the singer/writer/guitarist/bassist from Pinback and many many earlier projects. The song's title is a tip of the hat to the unseated best picture of the year, Brokeback Mountain.


Nice Chaps, Buddy

You miss me, you really, really miss me

It's been brought to my attention that I didn't update for a whole week. Would you believe I've been in a coma? That I was taken up by the pre-Rapture party planning committee to make sure there were enough tatamis and warm Ovaltines for everyone? That I was so bored that I put my finger into my navel and, finding little to no resistance, kept pressing in and in further until my whole hand was in there... then I wriggled my wrist around and pushed further until I got a firm hold on my spine... which I pulled out and showed to myself just before I fell into the coma.

Actually I was just kinda busy...

...with a bit of writing, bit of reading, bit of editing. Nothing too stressful. The lab has also been more of a hive, too, given March break is next week.

My favourite phone question of this week, you ask?

------

He: Do you buy records?

Me: Yes we do.

He: Do you know the records that were thicker before they got thinner?

Me: We don't buy by thickness, only by title.

-----

Went to The Capital last Thursday to see Sylvie, who were back in town, headlining this time. They got much (deserved) love from the crowd... but I was a little less impressed this time around. I feel like they're splitting into two separate bands... Joel and Riva in a mid-nineties pop/post-punk band (a-la-Jawbox) and Chris (w/ his table o' pedals) in an atmo-rock band (a-la-Radiohead). Not to say these things can't be combined... I just didn't think they always worked together... the wispy wispy parts seemed kinda tacked-on.

Their tour-mates From Fiction got my full attention though. A four piece from Toronto, they combined the instrumental destruction you usually expect from metalcore bands, but with an unscripted looseness closer to (gulp) jazz. Drummer Rob Gordon especially was a man possessed... all hovering cymbals, pounding on walls... only pausing to slam into the audience. I see by their site that Metric is taking them with them through the states! Americans beware!

What else, what else??

Got dates mixed up for the Akron/Family show in Saint John. I mistook Monday March 27th for Monday February 27th!!! Why would two 27ths both fall on Mondays? Only in Canada you say? In any case that's much better and likelier to be visited by me and The-One-Who-Michael-Jackson-Would-Possess (At least his skeleton). Embarrassingly I ended the evening at The Capital by loudly exclaiming to all in my path that they should go to SJ to see A/F on Monday (again the show wasn't on Monday).

Well. I have a few more things to accomplish before I call it a night... so... I'll leave you with tonight's track. Since you went a week without I've made it an extra-long track. Sharks and Sailors is taken from a 1997 e.p. by June of 44 called The Anatomy of Sharks. It bridged the gap between their two best albums, Tropics and Meridians and Four Great Points. JO44 brought together members of many disparate groups, incorporating all their strategies: Guitarists Jeff Mueller (Rodan) and Sean Meadows (Lungfish), Bassist Fred Erskine (Hoover, Crownhate Ruin) and Drummer Doug Scharin (Codeine, Rex). Their last album, Anahata, came out in 1998 and showed signs of a new direction that never got explored, though Mueller continued in a similar vein with The Shipping News while Scharin now concentrates mostly on his dub-based project Him (no, not the crappy Scandinavian goth-emo-metal band).


Sharks & Sailors

no time but the meantime

I just have a second...

Helmet had two indie releases Strap it On and the collected singles Born Annoying before unleashing a post-Nirvana hard rock slab for Interscope called Meantime. It was metal for uptight jazz fans. The 1994 follow-up Betty was not as critically well-received... but I think letting a little air in was good for Page and the boys.

Tonight's track, I Know, contains two excellent and underused euphemisms for masturbation: Shine the Baptist and De-bark the Log. Listen for 'em.


I Know

Hello, I love you, won't you tell me your name...

So I made it through last week... wasn't that hard... busy... good.

Having listened to the little yahoo desktop widget that whispers the upcoming weather to me I knew that the wind was gonna blow, hard, all weekend. I guarded against the cold by stocking up on movies, soup and alcohol (just a little wine, nothing to worry about). Saturday night I was sitting peacefully in my 30 year old LA-Z-BOY (the one my dad won at bingo, or a raffle, or something illegal) with cathode rays hypmotizing me into a stupor and it flitted across my brain: I didn't have any insane people ranting at me in the store all week!!!! While that diminishes my blogable occurances, it certainly is easier on the head. However... moments later my phone rang and...

Me: Hello?

He: Heeeey dude!!! How's it going? What's up?

Me: [not recognizing the voice right off] Ah, not much, not much, just hanging out, taking it easy.

He: Heeeey man... that's good, that's good. You doing anything later?

Me: [still not recognizing the voice... but the voice seems to be recognizing me, so...] I don't think so. It's pretty crappy out. Think I'm in for the night.

He: Duuude!! We should go out. We should drink.

Me: [definitely not recognizing the voice...] Ah, who was it you were calling for?

He: You man!!! You!

Me: No, who do you think this is? Who do you THINK you're talking to?

He: Samuel, man!! You!!!

Me: Ah, no... no... I'm, not Samuel, sorry... think you dialed the wrong number.

He: Oh man!! Well... hey, are YOU drinking right now?

Me: ...ah, no, not at the moment.

He: But... DO you drink, man?

Me: Well, yeah, but not right now... don't you think...

He: Smoke, man!!! Do you smoke!!!

Me: Not for a long time.

He: Ah, man. You SHOULD smoke!!! WE should smoke... TONIGHT!!!

Me: But I don't...

He: Man, I'm so high right now...

Me: That's obvious... the phone seems to be giving you trouble. Don't you think you should try to get ahold of Samuel?

He: Oh, yeah, right, man.

Me: 'Kay. Bye.

----

Tonight's track is from Damien Jurado. A Pacific Northwesterner with a knack for writing songs that sound like the best, darkest and most melancholy of Bruce Springsteen's back catalogue. Like most of my eventual favourites I came across his first album, Waters Ave S., by accident, receiving a playcopy of it from our Sub Pop rep at the time, France.

France was excellent to talk to on the phone... she was enthusiastic about the music, flustered by the amount of work stretched out in front of her... literally from the description of boxes of promo crap stacked in her little apartment. My mental picture of her was a young Jaime Lee Curtis with long hair tied back, hunched over a computer on her living room coffee table... a cat walking over the keyboard... a rubber tree in the corner butting against a chinese lantern... and stale cigarette smoke masked with just-past-useful air freshner.

But, anyway... Waters Ave S was low key, mid-tempo electric/acoustic affair with Jurado's mumbled monotone vocals somehow managing to make everything compelling. It was followed by the old-timey-er, and spookier, The Ghost of David, the title of which referring to a dream Jurado had about David Bazan... his pal and leader of Pedro the Lion. I Break Chairs came out in 2002 and featured band billing for Damien Jurado and Gathered in Song. It was more balls-out in places, but maintained the Darkness at the Edge of Town vibe from the first two albums. There's been a few releases since this one, but a favourite track of mine is Like Titanic from this album. The constant undertone of feedback drone and celeste plinking bang home the innocence and experience duality of the song. Enjoy.


Like Titanic

pitchers

Bonus Blog!!!

I was perusing a few music blogs and noticed that a Boston blogger had gone to see Sigur Ros at The Orpheum, the show the night after the one Mandy and I saw in Portland. He, unlike us, got some photos, so I thought I'd post them as they capture pretty well what our [visual] experience was.





Thanks to I Guess I'm Floating.

I don't do too much talking...

Investment Opportunity #1

SONNY JAMES TEETH WHITENING PROCESS




There's enough to go around for everyone.

Today's track is from that Siren of the Teutons, Nico. Chelsea Girl came out nearly 40 years ago, the same year she recorded with The Velvet Underground. Songs from her album were written by Jackson Browne and others. Not until the following few years did she start writing most of her own material... notably on the John Cale produced Marble Index (1968) and Desertshore (1970). Those albums hold up against the wild women of today... i.e. Joanna Newsom... for pure otherworldliness. The track I've picked today is featured in The Royal Tenenbaums. It plays as Gwyneth Paltrow arrives (in slow motion) to greet Luke Wilson who has realized he's in love with her (despite being her half-brother). It's a scene that makes me fall for Gwyneth a little... until I remember she married the doofus from Coldplay. Apple my ass.


These Days

The Boy with the Thorn is His Side

Mes amis!!!

I've been logging in some time over on the Backstreet blog the past couple of nights. If you go over there it'll more than make up for the lack of "track a day" action as there is an hour long .mp3 mix called
I Can't Stress This Enough!!!. In addition you'll find notes on what's recently made it's way onto the store's shelves.

I've come to wonder, since I've been posting my clever little stories of the daily twilight zonish 'appenings at the store, if there's been an increase in the level of public insanity or if it just seems that way 'coz I'm remarking of it.

This past Saturday one of "my people," as I like to think of them came in as I was racking some recent used vinyl arrivals. So you picture this 6+ foot man with a ball cap and dirty blonde hair with a wadded up leather jacket under his arm... oh and with a voice halfway between Randy Machoman Savage and The Cookie Monster.

Him: You don't know anyone who'd be looking to buy a vintage WWII leather bomber jacket. would you?

Me: Ah... no, no. We don't deal in clothes and, ah... I don't know of any vintage clothing stores in the area.

Him: This coat is over 50 years old and [flipping it inside out to display the lining] it's been taken care of. It was worn by an aviator... you can tell by this material.

Me: Oh. Well... I'm sure someone would be interested in it... but most clothes around town seems to either end up in the Salvation Army or maybe sold through auction houses...

Him: No. No. I'm not in a position to auction anything [???].

Me: OK? Well, good luck with finding someone for it.

Him: I just thought that, where you sell used stuff you might know... you know... and where I buy a lot of stuff here [first time I've seen the man]... because I'm a fan of the old stuff, like the Creedence and the Revival and Bob Seger... the older Bob Seger stuff like [he starts naming albums but I've stopped listening, preferring to let a fine glaze slide over me... carrying my consciousness far, far away... but then...] I did a lot of Bob Seger songs at karaoke nights at The North Star... and I made it to the finals, but this other guy beat me with a Fleetwood Mac song. Just as well, the regional final were in Moncton and I can't even swear in french.

Me:

Him: OK. Thanks.

I've been thinking lately about this strange duality:
Being a fan of "indie rock" brings with it a certain attitude of pride for being loose from the machinery of rock marketing... that is to say being a fan of a band because a magazine ad/radio station/video channel is co-opted into oversaturating a profile, making it seem incontrovertible that "X" is the biggest best band in the land. Indie bands seem to grow organically and/or virally with whatever actual or electronic equivalent "word of mouth" is spread, usually beneath the radar of mainstream media. That is good. Yes.

However, on the other hand, there seems to be a short, short, short attention span for the very brief history of "indie rock" (if you place it's roots in the late 80s/early 90s). New grassroots acts spring up monthly, seemingly displacing into obscurity artist from a couple of years previous. Does this amount to a "no heroes" mentality fostered within the fandom of the underground... or is it plain old media oversaturation on all of these new playing fields (internet/web radio/music blogs) that, instead of concretizing a bands rep, pushes aside today's successes to make room for "the next little big thing."

Mostly I wonder why people who are "huge fans" of Arcade Fire don't know who people like J Mascis are. Today's track is from this once and still guitarist for Dinosaur Jr. who broke big in indie's first wave with albums on Homestead and SST... the first three of which were recently re-issued on Merge Records, home of the aforementioned Fire. This track is from a solo live acoustic album called Martin and Me, and it is a cover of The Smiths, another groundbreaking outfit from the 80s and 90s. Enjoy.


The Boy with the Thorn in His Side

Just a drink?

Hola!

Nothing much to report. Went to the Back Nine at the behest of JB last night... found out that renovations=high prices (appetizers? or financial investments?). And $7.25 for a glass of Stella Artois? I'll be drinking alone at home, thank you. Sure there'll be a few tears... but the neighbours don't mind.

Here's a quote from an interview w/ David Cronenberg (Uncut Jan06/pg80):

Cronenberg: We no longer are physically responding genetically to pressures of the environment. That has completely derailed the mechanisms Darwin outlined....

Interviewer: But the primal impulses remain?

Cronenberg: The primal impulses remain, and that's the paradox.

Here's something you should try if you like music and not thinking too hard: Pandora

Finally today's track is from David Grubbs. He is probably best known as half of w/ Jim O'Rourke, but he's been involved with a number of underheard yet influential bands... starting with Squirrel Bait, a youthful hardcore band whose membership also included 2 future members of Slint. He moved on to Bastro with SB bassist Clark Johnson and help from future Tortoise member and Chicago producer John McIntire. He has eight solo records since Gastr Del Sol's split... they polarize between avant-gardist minimalist composition and more song-based, folk style recordings. This track is from his 2000 offering The Spectrum Between


Seagull and Eagull

Land of Ports

Back.

Was back yesterday... but the old skull sponge was only receiving blurred signals, not in any kind of shape to output anything.

Mandy and I rented a car for our excursion since hers had an extreme case of heartburn. We got off early out of Woodstock and had breakfast at the Denny's in Bangor. Our waitress' name was Sunshine. Diner food is cheap in Maine. Plus you can get stuff like country fried steak (essentially battered beef) with biscuits and gravy, two eggs and a stack of pancakes... for $5.99!!! I couldn't bring myself to risk the possible cardiac arrest/gastrointestinal meltdown that kind of excess would bring, so I stuck to the Pepperjack Scramble with hashbrowns and a short stack.

Portland was great. Had never been before. The only downside to visiting cool little towns is the invariable, "Why don't we have ______ in Fredericton?" questions. Like, "Why don't we have... a dozen cool little coffee shops? ...a choice of Thai restaurants? ...a converted theatre that brings in current touring bands instead of Pink Floyd karaoke?"

Sigur Ros were phenomenal. It was rush seating (the show was in a venue called the State Theatre, which, despite its name, didn't feature assigned tickets... mainly because its main floor has the front two rakes of seats yanked out to make room to stand at the stage's edge) so we stood in line for a little under an hour to get good seats. The temperature dropped to torment us but it was worth it. A helpful soul told us the best course of action was to head straight for the balcony... which we did and scored front row seats. If you've ever been to Memorial Hall in Fredericton the distance from the balcony to the stage was only slight greater at The State.

The unbilled openers were a quartet of Icelandic ladies called Amina. They played as a string quartet (three violins and a cello) before scattering out to various posts across the stage to play everything laptop and marimba to water glasses and admission bells. A scrim was drawn across the stage front during the turnover and when Sigur Ros began (playing the intro and first track from Takk...) they played behind the sheeting which served as a projection screen from the front and a screen for silhouettes of the band thrown by the backlighting.

Their entire set was material from Takk... which might've been a little disappoointing had the performance not been so intense. All four members played different instruments and Amina returned to the stage after the first few pieces to further flesh out the sound... which was simultaneously delicate and intense. The sound in the Theatre was just perfect... enormous, but not overwhelming or distorted. The sold out crowd brought them back out for an encore, the second half of which was played once again from behind the scrim with a build to a crescendo as tumultuous, terrifying and beautiful as anything I could've hoped to hear.

The rest of the night was dinner and the drive back (to return the rental) punctuated by some breaks to sleep in shopping mall and truck stop parking lots. If you're going to see America... do it right I say.

Today's track is from Amina's four track e.p. called Animamina they were selling at the show.


Hemipode

Bonus Blog

Since I'm going to be away on Monday, thought I'd provide you with a bonus weekend blog. Thoughtful, no?

I'm kinda behind (esp. since the hot turkey sandwich I scarfed at the Zellers seems to be running through me like a grease free range... er... turkey) so I'll skip ahead to today's track(s)... now featuring bonus track!!!

First up is a track from Sigur Ros' most recent release Takk... As you read this, probably I'm either on my way to or in Portland, ME getting ready to see them. This is their current single.


Hoppipola

Up next is a track from the upcoming Mogwai album called Mr. Beast due out on March 7th. The album is killer killer killer.


Folk Death 95

Caughwrf

I've got a headache right here:

...and pains and aches in places too awkward to photograph. I don't want to do anything... not even this. But it still feels good to be alive.

I'm going to see Sigur Ros in Portland on Monday night with Mandy... I just had a pretty good bowl of soup (Beef Barley) and I posted a new edition of Surgery on my radio blog. You can listen by clicking this.

But now my energy is gone. Time only for today's track. This time it's a preview. Julie Doiron has been the most prolific alumni of Eric's Trip. During their post-break-up decade (almost) she's released 6 solo albums... with a 7th on the way later this fall. This time around she's joined by the three other members of her former band... but don't call it a reunion. The album is as yet untitled, but will be released on Endearing in Canada and Jagjaguwar in the U.S. This track is an unmastered demo.



No More

Hot for... bank teller??

There's something about a woman in uniform. How else to explain the seeming proliferation of websites/Yahoo groups/etc. dedicated to female news anchors and weathergirls... er... Gender non-specific Meteorologists (who are hot). These women seldom dress provocatively, often are only seen from the chest up, and usually only from one camera angle. Yet apparent teams of shut-ins with Tivo hooked up to laptops spend hours making grainy screen grabs and putting them up to share with fellow meals-on-wheels recipients.

And bless their obsessions.

Some of the slightly less single-minded among us have fallen into the WIU (woman in uniform) undertow. How else explain the raptures and adorations heaped upon Gillian Anderson during her stint as Scully on The X-Files. Chris Carter, the show's creator, seemed to have tapped into a dormant gene in male viewers that reacted to a "less-is-more" trigger. True, Sci-fi fans have a certain affinity for uniforms... but even on the flagship Star Trek series the female uniforms were essentially go-go dresses and all the alien women were swathed in togas and bathed in soft-focus lighting.

The current crop of CSI/FBI/CIA shows perhaps owe their success to this template as well. Or maybe I'm thinking about Without a Trace's Poppy Montgomery too much. But if your name is Poppy I'll think about you too. Promise.

In the meantime today's track is from the 1996 musical tribute to The X-Files, Songs in the Key of X. It's a compilation that collects seemingly disparate artists like Sheryl Crow, Nick Cave and Danzig... yet somehow manages to sound cohesive. Some versions of the CD sported nifty-keen hidden tracks you could only get to if you pressed stop as soon as the disc started then backed up to before Track 1! If you did you were treated to Dirty Three's rendition of the theme song.

One standout track was by The Foo Fighters, not especially a favourite band, however they do a slightly muscled-up version of Gary Numan's Down in the Park... a track that appeared on his 1979 album Replicas.



Foo Fighters-Down in the Park

Today's Horrorscope

"I'm a naturally happy person and she's not. I'm an Aquarius and she's a Libra... it's not a good match. Besides, her perscriptions were $300-$350/month!"

The dimming of love in the post-chemical age.

Today's track is from Public Image Ltd. Flowers of Romance. Fourth studio album by John (Rotten) Lydon's post Sex Pistols project. Where the early efforts featured minimalist white funk and incantatory post-punk Flowers stripped things way way back to Martin Atkins' stark and edgy drum patterns plus Keith Levene's chordless guitar atmospherics with Lydon's keening vocals parked on top. Not an easy listen, but a haunting one at least.



Go Back

Lazy, hazy... er, Macy Gray... no, no.

Just a second. The weekend in point form:

Friday: Katherine, Andrew, Andy and John... Snooty Fox... 3 dozen baskets of finger food, each one hotter than the preceding. Then John, Andy and I... Phoenix. Drunk pretty girl comes in... gets drink... sits alone drinking drink... gets up... leaves.

Saturday: Howard's... Howard, Linda, Michael, MK... Beer. Peat Whiskey. Spiced Rum. We Are Scientists. Walk home... fall backwards onto my elbows behind City Hall. Drink one more beer. Go to sleep watching the old The Fog.

Sunday: Smitty's... John and James. Breakfast Much choice. Much expense. OK food. Not great. Return? Probably no. EB Games... Outlaw Golf 2 for PS2.

Sunday afternoon: Outlaw Golf 2 for PS2:



Today's track:

Mike Doughty was the lead singer of Soul Coughing. A favourite of mine. Live shows of his started showing up on Archive... at first mostly acoustic versions of SC songs, but eventually new tracks by the man himself... solo and with a variety of new friends and players. Got signed to BMG/ATO... re-issued two previously self-released e.p.s Skittish and Rockity Roll, and eventually a proper full length called Haughty Melodic. Check out his blog, as linked in my sidebar... and the track below which is a bonus live track added onto the double e.p. release.

Some say he sounds like Dave Matthews. But that could just be playful cruelty.




The Only Answer

Ahh, the Twofer.

Psychic flash of the week... 2009:

Prime Minister Belinda Stronach


Right?

Cabbie quote of the day:

"I have no problem with women; I just wish they'd do a little more."

This is by the same driver who laid down the deer hunter/car insurance rap.

The store has been fairly free of bizarre shenanigans over the last couple of weeks, but today there was some fun. I'm on the phone leaving messages for people whose special orders have come in when I catch movement at the door out of the corner of my eye.

For those of you who don't know, Backstreet Records is on the second floor of a building... you have to come up a flight of stairs and we're back and to the left at the top... just follow the clever indie music sounds.

Anyway, standing in the doorway are a woman with stringy grey/blonde hair cascading limply onto her faded powder blue ispo jacket. Her mouth is an open, puffing "O" denoting simultaneous astonishment and lack of breath. Standing with her is a slightly stooped 6+ foot man with a complimentary slack jaw beneath a thick unwatered -grass-brown tangle of moustache. He is wearing a toque in the peculiar way you sometime see... barely perched on the very top of his head with the bulk of it completely empty. I think maybe these people take to heart the assertion that 90% of the body's heat escapes through the top of the ol' noggin. Whatever.

I'm on the phone for about 30-40 seconds and they just stare at me from the doorway like I'm some sort've exhibit. When I finally put the phone down they lurch forward together as one and I can see they're each carrying grocery bags of records. I brace myself.

Woman [breathing heavily, for effect]: Hooo. Those stairs... hooo.

Me: Yeah there's more than a dozen of them.

Woman: Hooo. We have... hooo... these records to sell. We went into to the record store next door [note: there is no record store next door, so I figure she means either Tony's, a musical instrument store, or The Owl's Nest, a used book store] and they sent us over here. We took them into Digital World [pawn shop further uptown], but they only took 3 of 'em.

Me [already peaking inside the first bag]: If Digital World couldn't use these it's unlikely we'll be able to take them either. [Looking through the water and nicotine damaged offerings] I don't see anything we'd have much hope of selling here. They're in rotten shape, plus all the titles are either bad easy listening or country... we don't have anyone looking for stuff like that, ever.

Woman: So, nothing? We carried these all the way over from Fraser Ave

Directions from Fraser Ave to Backstreet Records:

Start address: Fraser Ave
Fredericton, NB
End address: Queen St
Fredericton, NB
Distance: 3.6 km (about 6 mins)

Head northeast from Fraser Ave - go 50 m
Turn right at Hickory Ave - go 0.1 km
Turn right at Fulton Ave - go 0.7 km
Turn left at Main St/Rue Main - go 0.8 km
Turn right at Devonshire Dr - go 0.2 km
Take the ramp to Fredericton Centre - go 0.4 km
Bear right at Westmorland Street Brg - go 0.5 km
Continue on Westmorland St/Rue Westmoreland - go 0.3 km
Turn left at King St/Rue King - go 0.4 km
Turn left at Carleton St/Rue Carleton - go 0.1 km

Me: Sorry. If you're just looking to get rid of them so you don't have to carry them back, you can drop them off at the library.

Woman: The LIBRARY?!?!

ME: On Carleton St.

Luckily just then someone came in I knew so I could strike up a conversation and not draw out the litany of huffing and whining that follows a full-on refusal of merchandise.

So.... That was that, right? No.

About half an hour later another tall, lurching, toqued and bearded man shambles into the store carrying three grocery bags. I recognize him as a fairly loud voiced panhandler from the greater downtown area.

Man [slurring]: I'll give you all these records for five dollars.

Me: Did a couple just give you those in the street? I told them I had no use for them... to take them to the library and get rid of them.

Man: Get rid of them? Oh.

So he stumbles back out, dropping the bags in the hallway, down the stairs and outdoors in search of other more lucrative ventures.


Here are two tracks to get you through the weekend. During the summer and fall of 1992 there were two album that seemed to get more play by me and mine than any of the others... Automatic for the People by R.E.M. and It's a Shame About Ray by The Lemonheads. It's not that they were the best albums of the time, though they were and are both fine albums, but both seemed to find their way onto the stereos of everyone I knew. R.E.M. was great for early evenings with a beer on the sun porch and The Lemonheads was great for... well, anytime really. R.E.M. continued their upward trajectory in the decade+ that followed, but Evan Dando and The Lemonheads burned brightly and briefly before slinking off into the wings of indie rock.

The track Into Your Arms was written by Tom Morgan of Australian band Smudge and first appeared as a B-side to the single, Mrs. Robinson from It's a Shame About Ray... that single is also, obviously, a cover... of the Simon and Garfunkel classic... though the cover was not originally on the Lemonheads album, only added later after it's appearence on a soundtrack. Another version of Into Your Arms was also included on the 1993 follow up to Ray, Come On Feel the Lemonheads.

The second track, Ride With Me, is also a CD B-side, this time to the double A-Side single Confetti/My Drug Buddy... two tracks also from Ray. This is a live version of the track that originally appeared on their 1990 album Lovey.



Evan Dando Where Are You?

Into Your Arms
Ride With Me

...and finally I realized...

It's the subconscious that's in control, you realize that right?

Or maybe you don't. And that's the point.

In the case of deciding what your likes and dislikes truly are, sometimes you can fool yourself... initially preferring the outwardly obvious, quick fix things... but coming around to realize that the more subtle, perhaps backgrounded, of things is what you're actually drawn to:

Example:

Outward

Subtle


Not so similarly there are occasionally songs or albums that I like and can't quite figure out why. One example of this is Bows and Arrows by The Walkmen. It made it up quite high on my list of favourite albums for 2004... but there wasn't any definable reason I could point at to explain. There's a barnburner of a song called The Rat, but there was something else going on...

Today I was listening to a second hand copy someone had brought in... and on track five, My Old Man, it struck me: This is a song with a single note, unchanging bass line! That's the way to go, man! Have a listen:


My Old Man

Sorry.

I didn't get a track for today.

But here is an Ivan Brunetti cartoon:

Election

Back in 1973 Alice Cooper's very fun Billion Dollar Babies album featured a song called Elected. The lyrics went thusly:

I'm your top prime cut of meat, I'm your choice
I wanna be elected
I'm your yankee doodle dandy in a gold Rolls Royce
I wanna be elected
Kids want a savior, don't need a fake
I wanna be elected
We're gonna rock to the rules that I make
I wanna be elected, elected, elected
I never lied to you, I've always been cool
I wanna be elected
I gotta get the vote, and I told you about school
I wanna be elected, elected, elected
Hallelujah, I wanna be elected
Everyone in the United States of America
We're gonna win this one, take the country by storm
We're gonna be elected
You and me together, young and strong
We're gonna be elected, elected, elected
Respected, selected, call collected
I wanna be elected, elected

In the run off of the track there was an improvised rant about the "creation of a new party, a third party... THE WILD PARTY!!!" Well it's 33 years later and maybe, just maybe the wild party did win out after all. We went from the Clinton sex scandals to the Bush Beer Bong Blow-Up Fest over the last 10 years. I can't help but think that Alice didn't have this in mind exactly. But you can ask him yourself when you go and see him at Harbour Station in May (with Helix!!!).

Here in Canada it's election day... and whether there is a Wild Party (outside of the Marijuana Party, who likely bust out more of a mellow party than a wild one) is debatable. The sponsorship scandal supports a claim of the Liberals being pretty lame in their wildness... giving kickbacks to Quebec companies to downshift the sovereignist support system (possibly, allegedly)... it actually is somewhat patriotic in a real underhanded way (which is the best way arguably). The NDP is wild in a lets get together and responsibly enjoy each other's company and strive for communal betterment. Wild? No. Good idea? Yeah... if you like communal betterment (it's a new concept and maybe not grammatically sound). And the Conservatives? Well the name is a give away isn't it? If your idea of wild is Republican-lite then Wooooo and also Hoooo!!!

Well by now it's too late anyway... polls have just closed. And if you're poorly like most of the folks I know then life will continue to suck in the same mildly variable way... and be joyful in the same old ways... I mean ALICE COOPER!!! HARBOUR STATION!!! HELIX!!! AVIAN FLU!!! Errr... maybe not the last one so much.

Today's track is another cover. Sylvain Chauveau is a French artist with a great back catalogue of works from minimalist solo piano pieces to drone based works in a duo called ON, and more. One of his recent works is with the Ensemble Nocturne, billed as "An Acoustic Tribute to Depeche Mode" and titled Down to the Bone:


Enjoy the Silence [taken down]

Now Hiring.

If any of you are experts in the ENGLISH LANGUAGE you may want to write to this company, based out of Quebec, and offer your services in translation and grammar checking (click on picture to enlarge):



I especially like it when they mis-spell quality as "quaility." The distro itself seems pretty well run, so don't hold their enthusiastic linguistic reconfiguration against them (at least not to the detriment of commerce).

In the spirit of translation, today's track is a cover of Japanese metal moppets MELT-BANANA by DISCORDANCE AXIS from their recent release: Our Last Day.



Ulterior [taken down]

Synchronicity 2

I had this quicktime movie from the group Sad Little Stars tucked away in a folder for a few weeks now... Mandy hipped me to the website... and I kept meaning to post it so everyone could take a look, but just as quickly intention fronted and forgetion locked it up old school...

Then just now I was perusing a few other blogs I read on occasion and noticed that Sasha Frere-Jones had a link to it too. So now is the upside of never for us, friends.

Sad Little Stars Quicktime Movie

Rappie Pie Blues

It's raining buckets in Fredericton right now and the new fallen snow on the sidewalks downtown has taken on the glutinous appearence of Rappie Pie. I guess you had to be there on Sunday night at James' place. If you were, you know.

In other news I believe I may have found the most hardcore blues song of all time. None of your Robert Johnsons with "Hellhounds on My Trail." None of your Blind Lemon Jeffersons with their "See That My Grave is Kept Clean." I'm talking about a track from this classic album:



And this is the track I'm talkin' 'bout:



When you consider it most blues songs rest upon the existential crutch of things not possibly getting any worse. Here Grover takes a slight step backwards from the abyss and considers his fate: Things obviously have gone wrong. Who done bad by who is not clear... but... BUT, "Still, We Like Each Other." I mean, what a kick to the nads!!! He's obviously not going to get his CDs back from his girl/guy/mop/whatever. He's never going to see the sweater he forgot at her/his/its place. If she/he/it starts dating someone new they obviously wouldn't find it inappropriate to hang out in the same bars Grover goes to... not worried if he sees them because, "Still, We Like Each Other." I mean... that's the friggin' blues, man.

Our song today comes from a late 2005 release by Bonnie "Prince" Billy. A Kickass live album called "Summer in the Southeast."


Death to Everyone [taken down]

More things.

It's not that I'm obsessed with cab drivers...

I take 4-7 cab rides a week... that averages out to just around $100/month... so I figure if I derive occasional entertainment from their quirks and peculiarities it still works out to be exceptionally expensive entertainment. Thankfully there's transportation included.

Yesterday's driver picked me up at Sobey's on Regent as I was getting my week's worth of dinners for the lab. He began the conversation with:

CD: What do you do at the University.

ME: I work at the media lab. I sort've manage it at night...

CD: Media lab? What's that?

ME: Computers. Video editing. People doing Power Point... er, you know... computers.

CD: Ah. Listen. You wouldn't know anyone up there who works in Human Rights, would you?

>>>Now I have to break in here and explain that this particular driver is quite an adept mumbler. Not only does he mumble, which he does, but he seems to have a selective mumbling pattern which is compounded by his tendency to jump into and out of sentences without warning<<<

ME: Human Rights... the nearest I could suggest might be checking out the Sociology department. Maybe?

CD: MMmmm. Yeah... [mumbles] some advice about theft and property.

ME: Theft?

CD: Yeah... The government, not only... [mumbles]... kind of a make work... [mumbles]... but at the end, about 6 or 7 years of livelihood, or you could... [mumbles]... really my life.

>>>Had I been a little brighter I would have let things rest there, but...<<<

ME: How did they take your livelihood?

CD: Well... [mumbles]... in Moncton, and they had it all drawn up, but... [mumbles]... in the end it was just make work for the highway guys... do you know the scandals in Ottawa? The sponsorship... [mumbles]. Anyway the companies were all in Quebec and... [mumbles], so they'd keep them IN. And the highway companiew are all from, in Moncton, Quebec... and... [mumbles]... just sold my gravel pit recently, but then the evaluator charged me based on his evaluation... [mumbles]... but my paperwork was already IN! And the lawyers are a protection agency, all work for the same people... [mumbles]... and my neighbour was told 43 thousand, but on the books it worked out to 143 thousand! But... [mumbles]... just a make work for the highway, the Quebec company, keep them in Canada. So I need someone... [mumbles]... not, like the lawyers, not a protection agency for the government. So if... [mumbles]... let me know. OK?

ME: Yes.

Today's song is from Tricky's 1996 side project Nearly God.


Tattoo [taken down]

I should have noted earlier but each song will stay up for one day only.

Brandon Lee

My theory now is that UNB is dead.

How else do you explain the hundreds of crows in the trees behind the SUB and in front of the LBR every night around sunset. It's eerie. Not all but some of them stay in the trees in front of the Old Arts Building all night. When I walk under them on the way home their wings sound like dozens of old leather straps flapping against the branches in the wind... in the dark. AAAAIIIEEEE!

I should also mention... as others have before me... that the one and only Ja Born has an important performance at Memorial Hall tomorrow evening. The details are outlined as such:

GroundBeat #1: John Born Drum Performance at Memorial Hall January 13

GroundBeat is a showcase series highlighting the eclectic character of our community's art, music and performance. Challenging prevalent conceptions, GroundBeat is set to change perceptions, delight, and inspire everyone with eyes to see, ears to hear and senses to be tantalized.

Born to Reincarnate: Undivided Man – John Born Drum Performance
"Without music, life would be a mistake" F. Nietzsche
Memorial Hall
Friday, January 13
$5
8:30 pm

It starts with a message, embodied and organic, and the need to connect with others, to create allegory through music and have the rhythm of life awaken in all hearts that hear. It is as basic as it is polyphonic - the experience of the spirit as it crosses the line into the afterlife and meets itself - and is as rudimentary as the equation which connects the drumkit and the bloodstream pounding out our often taken for granted days.

Performance sets aside time: time to reflect and interpret, orchestrate meaning and arrange sound. Born to Reincarnate: Undivided Man is a measured and studied exploration of five international pieces of music and one original score - though, as in all musical interpretations, once reworked a version is more homage to the original (voice) than direct copy.

As an investigation of music, this piece intimately understands how sound makes meaning; as performance, it believes in our time on this earth; and as rhythm, this piece speaks from heart to heart.

For more information contact Andrew Titus, Program Development Officer, UNB Art Centre 452-6360 or atitus@unb.ca

This is my artist's rendition... knowing nothing of the details of the show... of what you can expect:



SEE YOU THERE!!!!!!!

Back dans le Saddle encore

Ah friends...

Sorry to have left you to your own battery powered devices at the end of the year.

For me it is a time of worry and fret... of stomach acid tides rising and lapping at the very back of my throat. Who amongst us likes waking up three or four times a night coughing because there's a brush fire just below their uvula? Not I, you say, not I.

But we made it through another holiday season. Here are some things I've seen and/or learned.

1) On one of my last nights of work at the lab I left a little later than my usual 10 pm knock off time and heard what sounded like the all-too-usual high voiced yelping of drunken idiots outside the Social Club in the SUB. When I noticed it was coming from behind instead of in front of me I turned in time to see two foxes dart out of the woods and up to the door of the building I'd just exited... not 25 feet away. Fun.

2) There are some questions you have to question... long before you can ever hope to even try to answer. Example: Young man with the skittish movements/expression of one either picked on too much or not enough comes in the store and has the following query: "I'm interested in listening to music on vinyl. Is there anything you'd recommend?" So, how do you approach this? Does he think music on vinyl is different from music on other formats? Does he just want me to stack up a bunch of records for him to buy? Before I could begin to help he follows with, "and this may be a silly question, but do you know where I could buy something to play the vinyl on?" Oh well.

3) The door locks freeze. Everywhere.

4) If you need to travel by bus it will snow hard. Even if the forecast 2 days earlier called for 4 degrees celsius and a 30% chance of rain. Snow.

5) Coupons will always be the best thing you receive.

6) If you have a choice between 3 things you can spend a Xmas bonus on always pick the least useful one (for me it was a PS2).

7) One thing you should find out when asked to take care of someone's cats while they're away for the holidays is what their names are. Although big gray kitty and little gray kitty worked out fine.

8) #1 album of 2005 Sufjan Stevens-Illinois (Asthmatic Kitty). For a list of my Top Fifty you can go over here.

I'll bring you more news of wonderment and discovery soon. For now I leave you with this:

ah, synchronicity

So how much of it is actual stress and how much of it is stress made up to keep things sizzling?

One sure way to tell that I'm not quite right is that I can't seem to sleep properly through the night, but neither can I seem to make it through the day without a series of naps (not always possible).

I'm feeling a little less negative about the seasonal disaffect. The possibility of being around people and not feeling like pole-axing them into a waiting mote is rising in my field of view. Though my weekend plans of laundry and shopping being pushed to next weekend may change my p.o.v. right back.

Two fun store things from yesterday:

Putting posters out into our floor display rack I'm trapped out in the middle of the store when someone comes up the stairs. I hate being out from behind the counter when a customer comes in... feels like being caught pulling up your zipper for some reason. Anyhow this gentleman looking a little like this...



...comes right up to me, within about, seriously, a foot and a half and says... not asks... says, "Birdcalls."

So, yeah.

Couldn't help him.


The next incident involved someone I know who works at another record store, of the mall variety. He'd just gotten done explaining how some genius on Sunday had shoplifted a bunch of stuff from his store... Since they're hi-tech they have beepy sensors and all... but the power of the dash is still a force to be reckoned with. He'd just finished telling me the sad tale when a heavily parka'd and back pack'd individual wanders in right next to my friend who says, "Hey man!!" Now this guy knows a lot of people so I figured this must be an acquaintance of his. Parka man asks, "Do I know you man?" To this my friend says, "Yeah you're the guy who robbed my store on Sunday. Are you here to sell what you stole?" There was much redness of face, cover banter about Nazareth vinyl, then slow, sauntering dashing... through the snow, probably

It's beginning to look a lot like...

...the slow clubfooted slouch towards Bethlehem v.6.0

As the Americans struggle to keep their biases cleverly masked under the guise of de-Christing xMas... (it's the HOLIDAY season y'all)... in order to, I dunno, prevent someone from blowing up nativity scenes in Akron... I, myself, bemoan the secular holiday. I mean, who do you complain to if you don't want to participate in the reindeer games yet still need to buy toilet paper occasionally? I shouldn't have to punch babies in the face to get people to move faster through the narrow aisles... I really shouldn't.

I propose an xMas-free supermall. It would entail each store to be equipped with, instead of greeters, interrogators... so that if Lardy McMomstein tries to sneak out with non-gift tube socks in hopes of making them in to a present the staff would crack down on her faster than Brad Woodside on anti-family values at BOOM! on a Saturday night.

Maybe there are some wrinkles in the idea need ironing, but that's someone else's job, not mine.

I may just be a little cranky because I'm working on no sleep. I had a cup of coffee a little too late in the evening last night and found myself still up at 6 a.m. watching DVD special features in order to break down my braiwaves. I finally got to sleep around 6:30 a.m. and had a weird dream about wandering into my old high school to pee only to be caught up in some sort of group trivia/scavenger hunt nonesense involving dumpsters behind Chinese restaurants. At 9:30 a.m. I woke up rested, sort've, and allowed myself an extra half-hour... that unfortunately turned into an hour that turned into a blur of pants and toque yanking-on to make it to work on time. The rest of my day involved McDonald's, dry shaving in public washrooms and deflecting Pitney Bowes offers.

Ho, frigging, Ho.

Hey

It's really cold out.

Do you want to drive me home?

I'll give you these:



OK?

Favourite instore quote of the week

"He's a genius, he knows how to do things..."

-anonymous