In the corn maze of my sad late night brain grumblings is a bird's eye documentary, a voyeuristic half-truth where she is too good and I'm still just a worthless piece of shit who somehow got lucky. Summerteeth came out in 1999 and I didn't even know Tweedy yet but his worries and his wear are mine. "It's for you, I swoon." But is it for you, or is it for me?
Thursday, December 1, 2016
Tuesday, November 22, 2016
Bluesday, November 22: Dreezy
Dreezy hails as the "Princess of Chicago Rap" since 2014 by Vice Magazine. This song's from her debut album that came out last July. I expect big things from this chick. I've been listening to a lot of this new shit to be able to relate to my students, who are just too cool. Self worth, or the lack of it, is generational.
"I wanna give it one more shot / but all he wanna do is take one more shot."
Damn.
Love is not sex is not sustainability is not reality. I'm so happy to finally be in a place where I get it. But damn, the triggers this song pulls that are connected to my heart strings.
"I wanna give it one more shot / but all he wanna do is take one more shot."
Damn.
Tuesday, November 15, 2016
Bluesday, November 15: The Blow
This song hit me hard when I was at the gym, running without stretching, sweating the blues off. The beauty of music, I guess, is that it can have the same meaning over time, but your role as a listener can change.
How can I achieve sustainability without puncturing love's work with the pressure of the depth I have learned to hone in thirty years? Perhaps as a Pisces, I can learn to swim in shallow waters. It doesn't mean I have to stop living in the bluest of the ocean, or that beauty is forfeited. It just means I'm more limber. And maybe that's a good thing.
The Blow will always remind me of a specific summer, with specific people, the messiness of fluidity, and the southside of Chicago. The blues were always there, always vibrant. It's definitely not present in the same way, but perhaps its hues can make themselves more visible, with time and thoughtfulness. I will not re-live heartbreak; I will transform it into a lifeboat. So nobody drowns.
"I still believe in the phrases that we breathed / But I know the distance isn't fair to cross"
The beauty of the additive shines through this song. Sometimes, simplicity accentuates function. It's why art is necessary in the first place.
How can I achieve sustainability without puncturing love's work with the pressure of the depth I have learned to hone in thirty years? Perhaps as a Pisces, I can learn to swim in shallow waters. It doesn't mean I have to stop living in the bluest of the ocean, or that beauty is forfeited. It just means I'm more limber. And maybe that's a good thing.
The Blow will always remind me of a specific summer, with specific people, the messiness of fluidity, and the southside of Chicago. The blues were always there, always vibrant. It's definitely not present in the same way, but perhaps its hues can make themselves more visible, with time and thoughtfulness. I will not re-live heartbreak; I will transform it into a lifeboat. So nobody drowns.
"I still believe in the phrases that we breathed / But I know the distance isn't fair to cross"
The beauty of the additive shines through this song. Sometimes, simplicity accentuates function. It's why art is necessary in the first place.
Tuesday, November 1, 2016
Bluesday, November 1st: Wilco feat. Feist
Funny, how one lyric can direct you to a bridge of a song, then after another listen to the whole thing, realize it's the one you've been looking for all day. It seems a little odd that THIS is the Wilco song for Bluesday. I know their discography (pre 2015) better than any band and this song is not sad. Not at all. But I'm going through a paler shade of blue today. Kinda like fog off a lake right before dusk.
I never truly understood these lyrics before. I think it's because I've never had the love Tweedy is singing about in this song. I never truly understood these lyrics before tonight, and for that, I am grateful.
Also, Feist is adorable.
Sunday, October 30, 2016
some Saturday nights
Don't get me wrong, I like the people here. But some Saturday nights you're missing home real hard and you just gotta yell at the dumbass drunk college kids as they jaywalk in black costumes in the darkness across Commonwealth Ave. on a red light. Sometimes you value your alone time to contemplate why you feel alone when you're far from it. Altered substitutions. The function is the same but this time around, it just sounds different. It just feels different. Sometimes you just gotta stay in on a Saturday night, take off that mask, and learn about Coltrane Changes again.
Tuesday, October 25, 2016
Bluesday, October 25: The Wallflowers
This place is old, it feels just like a beat up truck
I turn the engine, but the engine doesn't turn
It smells of cheap wine, cigarettes
This place is always such a mess
Sometimes I think I'd like to watch it burn
I'm so alone and I feel just like somebody else
Man, I ain't changed, but I know I ain't the same
But somewhere here in between the city walls of dying dreams
I think of death, it must be killing me
Come on try a little, nothing is forever
There's got to be something better than in the middle
But me and Cinderella, we put it all together
We can drive it home with one headlight
I don't know if I completely like the piano in this version. Usually I'm a sucker for the additive, but I feel like the automatic drive that happens in the drums right when you hit the gas pedal of the original version better suits the tone and lyrics of this song. Jakob Dylan said the "she" in this represents his band's originality and ideas, and the song is about the death of them.
There's got to be something better than in the middle. I know it's out there. Where is it, though? Am I even on the right road? How long will I be driving with one headlight?
I guess there's comfort in knowing that they make it home.
Oh and P.S. this song won a Grammy two years after it was released. The Nineties: when record sales lasted longer than two weeks. Maybe it'll take that long for me, too. Maybe shorter. Maybe longer. Who knows? NOBODY. SO STOP OVERTHINKING.
I turn the engine, but the engine doesn't turn
It smells of cheap wine, cigarettes
This place is always such a mess
Sometimes I think I'd like to watch it burn
I'm so alone and I feel just like somebody else
Man, I ain't changed, but I know I ain't the same
But somewhere here in between the city walls of dying dreams
I think of death, it must be killing me
Come on try a little, nothing is forever
There's got to be something better than in the middle
But me and Cinderella, we put it all together
We can drive it home with one headlight
I don't know if I completely like the piano in this version. Usually I'm a sucker for the additive, but I feel like the automatic drive that happens in the drums right when you hit the gas pedal of the original version better suits the tone and lyrics of this song. Jakob Dylan said the "she" in this represents his band's originality and ideas, and the song is about the death of them.
There's got to be something better than in the middle. I know it's out there. Where is it, though? Am I even on the right road? How long will I be driving with one headlight?
I guess there's comfort in knowing that they make it home.
Oh and P.S. this song won a Grammy two years after it was released. The Nineties: when record sales lasted longer than two weeks. Maybe it'll take that long for me, too. Maybe shorter. Maybe longer. Who knows? NOBODY. SO STOP OVERTHINKING.
Friday, October 14, 2016
stop surrounding yourself with shitty humans
it's hard to be disciplined
i just gotta remember that it's more than just me nowi have to be better about managing my time
remember what's most important
not these petty little things
not how i feel about the failures of humans
in all different kinds of ways
god they are so terrible
but remember what's possible and remember what i'm here to do
be disciplined
practice my art
do things to make me happy
don't give into stupid shit
take care of my body
all this shit
all of it
i need to raise the standard of my life.
it's time to grow up from this petty bullshit way of life
and reach excellence
i deserve it
and it starts by not being a shitty human being.
Wednesday, August 10, 2016
Bluesday, August 9: Rx Bandits
I couldn't take the fucketry today. And then I saw a tour announcement poster for the 10 year anniversary of ...And the Battle Begun. It's my second favourite Rx Bandits album (behind The Resignation), which had a large hand in shaping my politics straight outta high school. I kinda can't believe it's been 10 years. I remember seeing them at the old Bottom Lounge in Chicago when it was still off the Belmont Red Line station. I'd totally see them again, even without the horn section they used to have. They're remarkably good at painting continuity within the album, stroke by stroke, telling a story that has a beginning, middle, and end. We're transported into a different part of the world, the one we're taught to ignore: the place where we create fantasies, into Matt Embree's optimistic brain.
"At the end of the world we'll all have a big party from sea to sea and into the desert sands / we'll feel comfortable naked, won't need our prescriptions to say we're happy and admit we're all scared of growing old" - Epoxi-Lips
"At the end of the world we'll all have a big party from sea to sea and into the desert sands / we'll feel comfortable naked, won't need our prescriptions to say we're happy and admit we're all scared of growing old" - Epoxi-Lips
Wednesday, August 3, 2016
Bluesday, August 2: La Vie en Rose
At what point in your life do you stop believing in destiny? Does growing-into-this-world mean losing that certain charm, that more than just whimsical attraction, that kind of lustful hope of a bad romance, intensity spilling over the gut of what is supposed to make sense? I re-watched How I Met Your Mother to catch all of the things I didn't catch before, and I guess this time around, I understand human relationships a little bit more. How the aftershock can cause a lasting effect, or doesn't, but how it can leave a mark, or won't. Perhaps I can make a compromise with this world. Perhaps synchronicity is real, and that fate is not always buried beneath a pile of casualties, dead weight one carries along the way. But how to manage mania, especially the kind that toys with the figurines in this never-less-than-romantic head: that's the real growing-into-this-world, I think. Perhaps then... maybe then, you can stop believing in destiny, and actually start living it.
I'll always be a sucker for beautiful, soaring melodies, even when they aren't soaring.
I'll always be a sucker for beautiful, soaring melodies, even when they aren't soaring.
Tuesday, March 29, 2016
Bluesday, March 29: Bruce Springsteen
I woke up like this. What I thought were allergies is actually a fever.
Tuesday, February 9, 2016
Bluesday, February 9: James Cotton
Sometimes when life has you running around New England and you're balancing on the tightropes of instability and you haven't really eaten anything all day and you're worried about where you're gonna live and if you have enough resources to follow through with all your plans and you're tired from shoveling all the snow and your tub's backed up and the Man keeps tryin to bring you down and you wonder if you're working to live or living to work and some bitch who isn't even paying attention doesn't say "thank you" when you give her her god damn vegan gluten-free organic falafel sandwich and you want to hate her so bad...
Sometimes you have to take seven minutes to just stop. Close your eyes. Breathe. Listen to the slow blues. Listen to that blues harp, let it infiltrate those open sores of this material world, and let yourself escape, let yourself have those seven minutes of pure human emotion, remind yourself that this is what keeps you connected, what validates all your plans to begin with. Never end a sentence with a preposition, unless it's a continuation of James Cotton's voice, which he rarely uses because of cancer, and count your blessings, count them all, because in about four days you get to LIVE the melodic line that happens around the 2:30 mark. Slow down, and surrender yourself to the colour blue.
Sometimes you have to take seven minutes to just stop. Close your eyes. Breathe. Listen to the slow blues. Listen to that blues harp, let it infiltrate those open sores of this material world, and let yourself escape, let yourself have those seven minutes of pure human emotion, remind yourself that this is what keeps you connected, what validates all your plans to begin with. Never end a sentence with a preposition, unless it's a continuation of James Cotton's voice, which he rarely uses because of cancer, and count your blessings, count them all, because in about four days you get to LIVE the melodic line that happens around the 2:30 mark. Slow down, and surrender yourself to the colour blue.
Tuesday, February 2, 2016
Bluesday, February 2: Against Me!
Whenever I'm sad about feeling alone in a new city, I think about this quote by Laura Jane Grace in a Rolling Stone interview from 2012.
"The cliché is that you're a woman trapped in a man's body, but it's not that simple. It's a feeling of detachment from your body and from yourself. And it's shitty, man. It's really fucking shitty."
Though punk has its origins from across the pond in the mid 70's, there are definite similarities, structurally, to the blues; rock and roll's roots are the blues, Elvis became King because Chuck Berry was black, etc. etc. etc. Take any 12 bar blues, don't swing the eighth notes, speed it up, like quadruple time, play only power chords, add distortion to the guitar, a couple of snare hits on the offbeats, add lyrics about defying the system and doing whatever the fuck you wanna do, and voilà! You've got The Ramones - "I Wanna Be Sedated."
Against Me! came out with Transgender Dysphoria Blues in 2014, three years after announcing a new album, two years after Laura Jane Grace came out as trans, and one year after the most fucked up year of my life. It's true punk rock; she says everything that needs to be said in ten songs under three and a half minutes, and the entire album itself is less than 29 minutes long. Yet its effects are everlasting- it's the most personal release Against Me! has ever had- as Laura sheds all armour protecting the burdens of her repressed spirit and, literally, body, behind that gritty, raspy, unabashed voice. While super-politicized previous releases like Searching for a Former Clarity and As the Eternal Cowboy dealt with the woes of being "different" and rising up in a capitalist political system, Laura Jane explicitly and courageously talks about her struggles of transitioning, no metaphor, of being a woman in both an aggressively male-dominated punk scene and in this transphobic country. This is her every day life.
"You want them to see you like they see any other girl / They just see a faggot / They hold their breath not to catch the sick"
I remember listening to this song in the front room of my dusty Pilsen apartment, buried in snow and freezing cold. Acidic tears ran down my cheeks after the title track played. While I think it's inappropriate to compare being gay with being trans, I related to the... desolate loneliness... of her struggle. Though I didn't have gender dysphoria, I had dysphoria of the soul, feeling completely dissatisfied of a situation I thought would never change. Feeling stuck in mud, but eventually making pillows out of quicksand. At least it seemed like someone was holding me, sucking me down six feet under the dirt. It's like someone threw a blanket over my head after my heart had already stopped beating from hypothermia. It's feeling detached from your body, being completely unaware of your self, going through the motions just to fill up space. It's the most lonely feeling in the world.
Transgender Dysphoria Blues received crazy good critical acclaim in 2014, and rightfully so. Musically, it might not be the best Against Me! album ever released. But Laura Jane Grace lifted her veil of insecurity, revealing her true beauty, explaining to us all what it actually MEANS to be transgender, and doing it flawlessly. This is her. Finally.
It's nice to see her giggle, too:
"The cliché is that you're a woman trapped in a man's body, but it's not that simple. It's a feeling of detachment from your body and from yourself. And it's shitty, man. It's really fucking shitty."
Though punk has its origins from across the pond in the mid 70's, there are definite similarities, structurally, to the blues; rock and roll's roots are the blues, Elvis became King because Chuck Berry was black, etc. etc. etc. Take any 12 bar blues, don't swing the eighth notes, speed it up, like quadruple time, play only power chords, add distortion to the guitar, a couple of snare hits on the offbeats, add lyrics about defying the system and doing whatever the fuck you wanna do, and voilà! You've got The Ramones - "I Wanna Be Sedated."
Against Me! came out with Transgender Dysphoria Blues in 2014, three years after announcing a new album, two years after Laura Jane Grace came out as trans, and one year after the most fucked up year of my life. It's true punk rock; she says everything that needs to be said in ten songs under three and a half minutes, and the entire album itself is less than 29 minutes long. Yet its effects are everlasting- it's the most personal release Against Me! has ever had- as Laura sheds all armour protecting the burdens of her repressed spirit and, literally, body, behind that gritty, raspy, unabashed voice. While super-politicized previous releases like Searching for a Former Clarity and As the Eternal Cowboy dealt with the woes of being "different" and rising up in a capitalist political system, Laura Jane explicitly and courageously talks about her struggles of transitioning, no metaphor, of being a woman in both an aggressively male-dominated punk scene and in this transphobic country. This is her every day life.
"You want them to see you like they see any other girl / They just see a faggot / They hold their breath not to catch the sick"
I remember listening to this song in the front room of my dusty Pilsen apartment, buried in snow and freezing cold. Acidic tears ran down my cheeks after the title track played. While I think it's inappropriate to compare being gay with being trans, I related to the... desolate loneliness... of her struggle. Though I didn't have gender dysphoria, I had dysphoria of the soul, feeling completely dissatisfied of a situation I thought would never change. Feeling stuck in mud, but eventually making pillows out of quicksand. At least it seemed like someone was holding me, sucking me down six feet under the dirt. It's like someone threw a blanket over my head after my heart had already stopped beating from hypothermia. It's feeling detached from your body, being completely unaware of your self, going through the motions just to fill up space. It's the most lonely feeling in the world.
Transgender Dysphoria Blues received crazy good critical acclaim in 2014, and rightfully so. Musically, it might not be the best Against Me! album ever released. But Laura Jane Grace lifted her veil of insecurity, revealing her true beauty, explaining to us all what it actually MEANS to be transgender, and doing it flawlessly. This is her. Finally.
It's nice to see her giggle, too:
Tuesday, January 26, 2016
Bluesday, January 26: Dustin Kensrue
When you think blues, you probably don't think "lead singer of screamo-post-hardcore-rock band Thrice." Nonetheless...
In terms of form, this is a perfect blues song. In terms of content.... this is a perfect blues song. If anything, it demonstrates the malleability of the origins of rock and roll. Dustin first released solo stuff on Myspace (lol) under the name Ursus Veritas around 2004. His first studio album, Please Come Home, produced by fellow bandmate Teppei, was released in 2007 and features eight songs, including this one. Someone once described Dustin's voice as a "drunk Chuck Ragan," whom he actually toured with when Please Come Home was released. I like that he sings entirely- no screams, no wails, no crazy electric guitar work, no experimentation- though arguably, not screaming is an experiment and departure from Thrice in itself. His voice has transformed throughout the years; this is a feeble reminder of his gritty rawness before he became a pastor and wrote a bunch of Christian rock songs.
How do you get back to where you were after you've been tainted with blood? Do you ever get back to where you were? Is the point to grow, whether or not it's for the better or worse? Can you surrender yourself to softness after you've been forced to grow reptile skin? These are all things I'm thinking about today, Bluesday, as I sip on (metaphorical) wine, wondering if its alcoholic content was ever fulfilling to begin with. Never end a sentence with a preposition. Whatever, I cure original sin.
Thrice is reuniting this year with a new album. Let's get real though- it was more of a hiatus than a breakup (four years?). I'm excited to see where Dustin's coming from, lyrically, with his band. After finding real love, getting married, having kids, growing up, living life, making realizations that can only be made with time... will he still be punx as fuck? We'll see, I guess.
In terms of form, this is a perfect blues song. In terms of content.... this is a perfect blues song. If anything, it demonstrates the malleability of the origins of rock and roll. Dustin first released solo stuff on Myspace (lol) under the name Ursus Veritas around 2004. His first studio album, Please Come Home, produced by fellow bandmate Teppei, was released in 2007 and features eight songs, including this one. Someone once described Dustin's voice as a "drunk Chuck Ragan," whom he actually toured with when Please Come Home was released. I like that he sings entirely- no screams, no wails, no crazy electric guitar work, no experimentation- though arguably, not screaming is an experiment and departure from Thrice in itself. His voice has transformed throughout the years; this is a feeble reminder of his gritty rawness before he became a pastor and wrote a bunch of Christian rock songs.
How do you get back to where you were after you've been tainted with blood? Do you ever get back to where you were? Is the point to grow, whether or not it's for the better or worse? Can you surrender yourself to softness after you've been forced to grow reptile skin? These are all things I'm thinking about today, Bluesday, as I sip on (metaphorical) wine, wondering if its alcoholic content was ever fulfilling to begin with. Never end a sentence with a preposition. Whatever, I cure original sin.
Thrice is reuniting this year with a new album. Let's get real though- it was more of a hiatus than a breakup (four years?). I'm excited to see where Dustin's coming from, lyrically, with his band. After finding real love, getting married, having kids, growing up, living life, making realizations that can only be made with time... will he still be punx as fuck? We'll see, I guess.
Tuesday, January 5, 2016
Bluesday, January 5: Natalie Cole / Ahmad Jamal
I didn't grow up listening to jazz. I didn't grow up listening to the blues. I didn't grow up listening to old records. I discovered Miles Davis at a library in Virginia when I was in middle school. The first time I heard Buddy Guy was in undergrad, and mostly because I was in a big band and we were playing at his venue on Wabash (the original location, on 8th St). Nonetheless, I've always been fascinated with the blues, how a music's function can change over the course of history, how some stuff stays the same, how its melodic and harmonic and rhythmic structures are based on one thing: emotion. The interplay of rawness and finesse. The cutting yourself open on stage with only three chords. The begging, the longing, the synesthesia of it all. How a feeling can be bounced around various artistic mediums and still be one color.
Which led me to ask, who exactly was Ahmad, and why does he have the blues? These kind of blues? I'm paying my dues kinda blues because of the life I chose kinda blues and I'm trying my best but god damn these food stamps don't renew until the 14th kinda blues and I don't know where my next buck is coming from but I'ma just cool it and listen to the music that understands me better than any room mate ever could kinda blues?
The answer led me to how I spent my Tuesday: listening to Ahmad Jamal.
The original:
Miles Davis listed Ahmad Jamal as one of his stylistic influences and actually featured a version of the song on Workin' with the Miles Davis Quintet in 1956. The quintet turned into a trio sometimes to show off Miles' sick rhythm section (Philly Joe... Red Garland... Paul Chambers, who plays bass with a bow on this track!).
I love the space, the the rhythmic contour, and most of all, the twinkling piano in the right hand. How can something so light, so... disciplined, carry so much weight? It's freaky how the original track, with no lyrics, can give me the same EXACT feels as Natalie Cole's version. The minimalism despite his virtuosity is what gets me- the explosions become that much more explosive. It's apparent why some think the Ahmad Jamal Trio pioneered the way for cool jazz... I mean, this track is fucking cool. And the fact that Jamal is alive is pretty fucking cool, too. I'm gonna go ahead and say it's because he did Muslim prayers instead of heroin.
Happy Bluesday!
The first time I heard "Orange Colored Sky" was at a high school pep rally. Some girl named Morgan sang it and I remember sitting at the top of the bleachers, alert for the first time, because fuck pep rallies. I could not get the bridge out of my head- what was she saying?- but was too timid to ask Morgan what the name of the song was. The internet was an already raging bull behind the bars, so I did an AOL search of "I was walking along, minding my business," and after fifteen minutes, found the song, downloaded in Napster, and tried to learn it.
This is why I thought Natalie Cole wrote and sang "Orange Colored Sky." Fucking Napster.
I've been on a Natalie Cole kick since her untimely death a few days ago. Something about her voice is nostalgic and warm, a counterpart to this freezing cold Boston weather. Listening to Stardust on shuffle, "Ahmad's Blues" came on the rotation and I shed a little tear. I always thought I was too urban for my suburban friends, too.
"Speakin' 'bout a bag of blues / mister, I'm payin' dues / listen I'm changin' shoes / I'm gonna make me some changes"
"Speakin' 'bout a bag of blues / mister, I'm payin' dues / listen I'm changin' shoes / I'm gonna make me some changes"
Which led me to ask, who exactly was Ahmad, and why does he have the blues? These kind of blues? I'm paying my dues kinda blues because of the life I chose kinda blues and I'm trying my best but god damn these food stamps don't renew until the 14th kinda blues and I don't know where my next buck is coming from but I'ma just cool it and listen to the music that understands me better than any room mate ever could kinda blues?
The answer led me to how I spent my Tuesday: listening to Ahmad Jamal.
The original:
Miles Davis listed Ahmad Jamal as one of his stylistic influences and actually featured a version of the song on Workin' with the Miles Davis Quintet in 1956. The quintet turned into a trio sometimes to show off Miles' sick rhythm section (Philly Joe... Red Garland... Paul Chambers, who plays bass with a bow on this track!).
I love the space, the the rhythmic contour, and most of all, the twinkling piano in the right hand. How can something so light, so... disciplined, carry so much weight? It's freaky how the original track, with no lyrics, can give me the same EXACT feels as Natalie Cole's version. The minimalism despite his virtuosity is what gets me- the explosions become that much more explosive. It's apparent why some think the Ahmad Jamal Trio pioneered the way for cool jazz... I mean, this track is fucking cool. And the fact that Jamal is alive is pretty fucking cool, too. I'm gonna go ahead and say it's because he did Muslim prayers instead of heroin.
Happy Bluesday!
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