Hope this hasn't gotten too music heavy, a change in the station is coming soon

Owl City, "Fireflies"

This is a lovely video and he is a lovely boy. And the song is catchy as hell.

Owl City - Fireflies from Carolina Alvim on Vimeo.

An Idiot Savant in Desperate Need of a Good Meal

Let me start off by saying, MY GOD, THE EARLY SEVENTIES WERE SOME GOOD YEARS. I have no idea if it's just a coincidence, but there are many "desirable males" that were born in '72, '73, and '74. That's not to say that there aren't a whole host of men that were born before or after who aren't just dandy, or that there weren't a whole host of jerk-offs that were born those same years, but in my own skewed mind, those years keep cropping up as the birth dates for some dudes I have lady boners for. It isn't relevant to anything, but I just thought I'd mention it.

There are only a handful of musical artists who's entire catalogue I can listen to and go, "Oh man, this is pretty much all so good, not even a strategically placed chocolate truffle could distract me from listening to these rockin' beats." One of the precious few happens to be this lovely young man, Andrew Bird. Even his name has a lyrical quality, it rolls off the tongue, and you hear a twittering in the distance when you say it. And yes, he whistles. Much better than you or I.



I've had the pleasure of seeing Mr. Bird twice in concert; take my advice, listen very closely, in fact, push your face right up to your screen and concentrate very hard: THE SOONER YOU ATTEND ONE OF HIS CONCERTS THE MORE COMPLETE YOUR LIFE JOURNEY WILL BE. At the latest show at the Orange Peel he had a pretty nasty cold, but played and sang like he had just awoken from the most restful and peaceful of naps and had sipped the nectar of the local honeysuckle. He plays multiple instruments (violin, guitar, xylophone, piano, etc.) and uses looping technology to turn himself and two or three other musicians into a full-fledged orchestra.

Know what else I love? He bridges the generational gaps brilliantly, marrying classical music with folk with a quirkiness that appeals to the most snooty of hipsters. I went with my mother and a co-worker some years my junior; we were joined by beret-ed fifty-something intellectuals, twenty-something hipsters in striped shirts and Converse hightops, braced and gawky teenagers with black X's on the backs of their hands, and a few gray-haired ladies waaaaaaaay in the back, as far from the speakers as they could get. It was a veritable melting pot, old and young coming together to fawn over the anemic maestro.

If you need a bit more convincing, that's fine. You apparently don't appreciate my expertise, and need a rough shove into the right direction.

One of my favorite records is Thrills, a stylized concept album that throws back all the way to the twenties and thirties, with a touch of ol' country standards, and is an excellent demonstration of Bird's flexibility and range.


Minor Stab


Eugene


Nuthinduan Waltz



The influence of Thrills is echoed on Oh! The Grandeur, but it swells larger and more grandiose than its predecessor, hence the self-mocking title.


Vidalia, a song about his grandfather


Tea and Thorazine, a song about his autistic brother


The Idiot's Genius


My other two favorite albums are a little more "contemporary," if you could call them that. They also have some of my absolute favorite songs and are a good place to start if the folksy rag-time is going to take you a bit of getting used to.

The Mysterious Production of Eggs

[untitled]


Fake Palindromes


Tables and Chairs



Armchair Apocrypha

Dark Matter


Simple X


The Fiery Crash



You may be thinking, wow, that's a lot of albums for me to take in. Guess what? I've been kind, there are buttload more to listen to. You can go to Mr. Bird's website to take it all in, hop on iTunes and see if there's anything you like. I hope you do like, because he's a musician worth supporting, and my friend Megan will probably cry if you don't, and why would you make such an adorable girl cry, that's like making a kitten cry, you are the goddamn worst.

If I hadn't been listening to Elliott Smith all through high school and had future music listening powers...

...this probably would have been the soundtrack to my very sad teenaged existence.

Like other great Icelandic artists before him, Ólafur Arnalds is more talented than you or I could ever be, and certainly more than your mom (unless your mom happens to be Bjork).

The following are songs from his April EP Found Songs: seven songs, one created each day for a week. You know what's awesome? You can download them for free; if you decide you like them, you can purchase the EP in various formats (it is, after all, the technical age.)

If you enjoy bands like Sigur Rós, I'm sure you'll find an appreciation for this young fellow (born in '87, GAH I'M SO OLD), though you may want to be sure there are no straight razors nearby while listening to this hauntingly, achingly beautiful album.

"Day I: Erla's Waltz"



"Day V: Lost Song"



"Day VII: Ljósið"

Ólafur Arnalds - Ljósið (Official Music Video) from Erased Tapes on Vimeo.

(Many thanks to my pal Flash Gordon for pointing this out)


Incidentally, this also caught my eye; who doesn't love wispy fellows on a cold beach dancing around in pea coats? BLACK pea coats? No one, that's who.

Codes In The Clouds - Paper Canyon (video teaser) from Erased Tapes on Vimeo.

Brad Neely, you complete me

So I have really fallen down in my duties of informing you of things that are awesome. I'm sorry.

Though many of my readers are close friends and are already aware of the bizarre genius that is Brad Neely, there may be one or two who are sadly groping through the dark, looking for a light switch, but finding only damp, sticky things of varying sizes and shapes.

Well children, let me get that for you.



Brad Neely is a cartoonist/comics artist wrapped in absurdity and mystery. Not much is known about him, and I certainly have no idea how long he's been around, but by God, my life would be much sadder without him. His distinct simplistic, disproportionate, kind of wiggly line style of drawing perfectly compliments his weird sense of humor. His fingers are in all kinds of pies, but here are some of the best ones:

"Wizard People, Dear Reader"
Many years ago, Neely, who had never read the books, nor seen the movies, did a drunken audio narrative of the first Harry Potter film. The first time I watched the film with the narrative track, I nearly peed myself many, many times. I actually had to take a break so that I could relieve myself, just in case that next wave of tear-inducing laughter was the one to break the dam. There are so many quotable lines from this work that for next few weeks you will just be muttering to yourself, "Ta-daa. Ta-daa forever!" or "HP and the Effin' Bear!"

And do you know what's best? The MP3s are free to download (comes in 2 parts)! The joy and laughter are free! How often does that happen? I mean really?

A sample:
the first appearance of "Roast Beefy Weefy"


the heart-stopping "Cribbage Match"


Do everyone a favor and when you've downloaded the tracks, show it to everyone you know. Have a "Wizard People, Dear Reader" party. Just make sure you don't serve soda, as it will, more than once, come shooting out your nose.

ps. This is not for children under the age of 16.

George Washington video
This was the first video of Brad Neely's I was shown, long long ago in the before times, and still remains one of my very favorites. A wonderful fact-filled rap about our founding father, Mr. George Francis Washington.



The Professor Brothers
A series about two professors who share the same office and despite their opposing personalities, learn life lessons and laugh and cry together.



I truly appreciate how Neely's strained, incredulous voice is exactly what I hear in my head every time life doles out another pile of bullhockey, because, despite having lived twenty-five years in this world, I naively still can't believe the things that happen on a daily basis. And videos like this make me smile at the absurdity of it all.

Check out more of Neely's videos chyeah.

Seriously, the talent never stops with this guy. Even his one-panel comics are sincerely delightful (if you enjoy absurd humor like I do).

My favorite is bear balloons:

I love how the image is actually pretty damn precious, but knowing Neely, the imaginary next panel is probably disembowelment and gore. But really, who wouldn't want some big fluffy bears lazily floating overhead? And the two human characters actually look genuinely happy and sweet. Just another lovely afternoon stroll through the sun-dappled fields with your sweetheart and some bear balloons.


So, there's some stuff. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have and share it with everyone you know. We'll see what comes down the pike later this month?



"He'll save children, but not the British children..."

Disney, for serious.

An Open Letter to the Heads of Disney:

Dear Disney,
You and me have had some good times. You've made me laugh, you've made me cry, and you've touched me, right here, in my blood pumpy chambers. Quite a bit of my childhood memories are tied to you Disney, to evenings cuddled with me mam, watching the Disney movie of the week, going to the tiny video rental between the hair stylists and Roses to get Sleeping Beauty for the umpteenth time, or watching DTV's Monster Hits every Halloween. I remember when your animation didn't suck, and you weren't whoring out skinny blonde tweens (I maintain Haley Mills wasn't nearly as irritating as the kids they have now, and Annette was a brunette, not to mention that they had more talent in their little pinkies than most of the youngsters today).

But Disney, it's been a long time since you've been great. In fact, as of late, you've pretty much sucked balls, and the only reason you haven't had to declare bankruptcy is that you've been piggy-backing on Pixar's talent. In an age where nostalgia sells for millions every day, why have you shooed Mickey, Goofy, Donald, Chip and Dale into the dark cobwebby closet of the "Disney Vault"? Disney, you have become that crusty old dragon, muttering to itself, hoarding its gold. It's always collecting more, but never using those sparkling gems and shiny ingots for any kind of purpose other than a very uncomfortable bed.

Disney. For serious. Stop it.

I miss who you were, and abhor who you've become. While I'll never forget the good times, I don't think we can see each other anymore. Good luck with your future endeavors; I wish you the best.

Sincerely,

me.

In Case You Were Wondering...

Girl Names

• Madison
• Cora
• Coraline
• Magda
• Matilda
• Harriet
• Zoe
• Alice
• Agatha
• Aurelia
• Ava
• Eva
• Emma
• Hazel
• Elinore
• Isabel
• Juliet
• Olivia
• Margaret
• Madeline
• Clementine
• Marjorie
• Mavis
• Phoebe
• Piper
• Amelia-Jane

Boy Names

• Rowan
• Malcolm
• Jasper
• Horace
• Horatio
• Holden
• Harvey
• Edmund
• Aric
• Ezra
• Felix
• Forrest
• Jack
• Arthur
• Vincent
• Aidan
• Adelai
• Harlan
• Bailey
• Rupert
• Brock
• Byron
• Calvin
• Clive
• Clark
• Curran
• Dagan
• Drake
• Duncan
• Heath

I'm a baby-makin' machine

So I recently turned 25 years old, which officially kicks off my quarter-life crisis. I'm pretty excited about this, y'all.

I have been discussing with my lady friends, and we agree that as we get older, it's not just a cute face that turns our heads, but mmmmm, he has a job that pulls in more than twenty thousand a year? Oooh, he has health insurance, his own car, and isn't paying off a mountain of debt? Uuuuuggghhhnnn, did you say HOMEOWNER, OH MAN, I'M DONE.

I had always thought that we had evolved beyond those base instincts that drive us to find the most virile and suitable mate, but, and don't tell anyone, I think I may have been wrong, just a bit.

I suppose it's the result of living paycheck to paycheck for the last five years, but personally, I'm ready to get a "real" job, one that has a regular weekly schedule, weekends off, benefits, health insurance, and nets me more than the $17,000 a year I make now (which, really, after taxes? Maybe $15,500. That's a depressing thought, innit?). A lot of folk I know who graduated college have tried the real world and gone running back into the warm bosom of school life because it was just too effin' hard trying to make it in this economy. The rest are still grinding out a sad existence working jobs they hate that have nothing to do with what they went to school for. But, before I get off on a tangent about how craptastic the school system is, and how for the thirty thousand bucks you shell out for an education, they fall very short of actually preparing you for the transition to adulthood and marketing yourself to employers, let me get back to the original topic.

You know what else has invited themselves to the crisis party? My biological clock. Oh, hey ovaries, you mean you serve a purpose other than torturing me five days out of the month? You also quietly, but insistently, whisper fantasies and elaborate storylines involving BABIES, ME AND BABIES, ME HAVING BABIES, ME RAISING BABIES, CHRIST HAVE YOU SEEN THOSE BIRTHING VIDEOS, ARE YOU TRYING TO REND ME ASUNDER?

You want to know how bad it is? I've started a list. A list of baby names. For boys and girls. And you know what? I'm not the only one. Your girlfriend? Is she of a certain age? Does she often get a faraway look in her eyes when there are cute babies about? During conversation does she interject with the phrase, "(Blank) would be a great name for a boy/girl, don't you think?" Then guess what. She's got a list. She's got a list, and it won't be long before she's evaluating your ability to PROVIDE and contemplating your FUTURE together, your FUTURE with BABIES.

Do you see all those capital letters? This is serious business. Have you seen Look Who's Talking? Brilliant film. Is still my reference for sperms and eggs gettin' together and baby-makin'. Do you remember that scene where Kirstie Alley has day-mares about her biological clock, the thunderous ticking, and clinging to the clock face hand miles above traffic like she was Harold Lloyd?



Yup. That's about right. I imagine it's going to get worse the closer I get to thirty, not to mention complicating the emotions I have about getting married, pregnant, being a mom, etc. Just typing this now, I'm feeling pretty overwhelmed.

You know what embodies nearly all of this post?



The one thing that comforts me during these times is that I know I'd be a great mom, thanks to my own wonderful mother and having EDUCATION and knowing about OPTIONS. I also have to admit that the years I've been living vicariously through Heather Armstrong's blog as she lives in Salt Lake City raising her daughters and dealing with postpartum depression and anxiety disorders has been a fantastic tutorial. It's a feeling that if she can deal with the amped up insanity of raising a very particular four year old and a newborn along with her own health problems, then I will be totally okay because I've been privy to WOMEN SECRETS that aren't really discussed until you are of a certain age. Now that I'm of that certain age, I find that I've learned a lot, but that there is still a ways to go.