…to ME. Today I am celebrating my 2 year anniversary to my beautiful wife, Nikki.
To my Scully, I love you. Two years is just a drop in the ocean of my love for you. I look forward to eternity…le melin, my bride.
It’s been a while, I know. Yeah – I missed you too. What do you mean “how much?” I said I missed you; isn’t that enough? I came back, didn’t I? Well…I don’t remember you making my phone ring either. I was busy! I have a life outside of this, you know! Why are you making such a big deal out of this?!?! We should be using this time, now that we have been reunited, to catch up – make the moments mean something. So stop acting like I owe you an explanation and let’s just make the time apart disappear. Why? Because we’re both here now. Okay? I’ll tell you what I have been doing lately…
I’ve been listening to a lot of music. I’ve been all over the place musically – I’ve been jamming to Plastic Little ever since they tore March’s Friction wide open to “Spring And By Summer Fall” by Blonde Redhead (that track is my current favorite), while still dancin’ with myself to Young Love (make sure you check out the acoustic version of “Find A New Way”), Cobra Starship, “Dirty Laundry” by Bitter:Sweet, Gym Class Heroes, and Back to Black by Amy Winehouse. Somewhere along the way, I found out that the Kaiser Chiefs were releasing a new album to follow up the fun pub smashing Employment. The new CD, Yours Truly, Angry Mob, is not a rehash of the infectious pub anthems that populate their debut. Instead, it is an all new infection – it is more of a rock album. It feels larger but retains those same hooligan rallying rhythms that make you want to rip the dance floor up. Then I found out that they were coming to NYC’s Roseland Ballroom. I guess you can figure that I was going to be there. After my first introduction to hooligan antics when I caught the Arctic Monkeys at Irving Plaza, I was intrigued. Plus, if nothing else…the music would kick ass.
The UK band doesn’t disappoint live. They sound as energized as they do blasting through my headphones. And blast they do. Opening with “Saturday Night” from Employment, the crowd was still a bit cold – no drunken antics to report. Things started warming up by their second song of the night, “Everyday I Love You Less and Less.” Despite the title, “Heat Dies Down,” we were just starting to get things cookin’. Ah yes, the hooligan contingent was starting to find its legs…right before the beer took the springs right out of them. There was plenty of unbalanced stumbling that some would argue as dance (using the loosest interpretation of the word possible). The Kaiser Chiefs kept the set pretty well balanced between the 2 albums. The crowd even got to pretend they were the 6th member of the band by singing along to “Heat Dies Down,” “Ruby,” “Born to Be a Dancer,” “Modern Way” (which, if you want a deliciously cool version with some Cuban flavor, track down the version the Kaiser Chiefs did with Buena Vista Social Club on the charity album Rhythms Del Mundo), and the bar breaking “I Predict A Riot.” My favorite song they played was “Try Your Best” off Yours Truly, but with an extension on the ending guitar riffs which I so wish was on the CD. I will admit that I was disappointed that neither of my favorite songs from either album didn’t make the set (“Time Honoured Tradition” and “Love is Not a Competition (But I’m Winning)”), but the encore renditions of “The Angry Mob” and “Oh My God” kept me satisfied. I guess seeing a tall, slender, sexy as **** lesbian lift her shirt all the way up to her chin for a fun photo taken by her friends right in front of me may have added a couple of points to the night’s overall score. Waiting in the cold of night was well worth the show…did I mention that the lesbian chick was hot to the point that it might make you outright drool in public? And for those dirty pervs out there (I raise my pint to you all), her bra was beige and the only flat body part was her stomach. *grins wickedly*
Yeah…so that is pretty much what I’ve been up to. Anything new going on with you? You know Sanjaya finally got kicked off Idol; I’m really going to miss watching his sister enthusiastically applaud for him on national television. I guess that’s what YouTube is for, right?
Let me start off by saying that I consider myself to be a music junkie. To that, let me add that I am a very mellow, laid-back, don’t really give much of a damn kinda guy. So it should come as little to no surprise that I LOVE electronica, ambient, chill-out, shoegaze, or any other number of the sub-genres that exist. Some of my faves? Thanks for asking and taking an interest – it makes me feel special. I thought that Ulrich Schnauss‘s A Strangely Isolated Place was the best album of 2004. And I do mean the best of all albums put out that year. I carry it with me everywhere I go. Another one that I always have on me is Talkie Walkie by Air. Their newest offering, Pocket Symphony, is slated for a March 5th release. Let me share how I first encountered this duo.
Sometime in the early part of this century, before I was smart enough to ask a very important question on February 29, 2004, my then girlfriend made me a mix CD. On that CD was a curious little ditty entitled “The Word ‘Hurricane’” from the soundtrack (ok, the score if you want to be all nitpicky about it) for The Virgin Suicides. It was an intriguing number but didn’t really resonate with me. Fast forward to waiting in a theater for a movie to start in 2004 (yes, I do remember the movie – it was Harry Potter & the Prisoner of Azkaban *sticks out his tongue*). You know those annoying “segments” before the previews where you, the audience, are assaulted by ads for new musical artists and upcoming TV shows and commercials trying to make the armed forces look cool? During one of those, the announcer introduced me to Air’s “Cherry Blossom Girl.” I was smitten instantly. I turned to my friend’s husband (who is a music lover of all genres as well) to see his thoughts. The song didn’t even register on his radar; it was background noise. But not for me. It was the start of a journey to absorb, to take in, to breathe as much Air as I could…
I’m not going to entertain you with my thoughts on every Air CD that I have been able to listen to, but I will tell you this – Talkie Walkie is my favorite. I was wondering when I’d hear something new from them…and in the form of an email, my question was answered. There is an organization that is artist run called Art For Progress that has put together an album release/listening party for Air’s latest, Pocket Symphony, in addition to showcasing indie artists of the electronica, downtempo, ambient, chill-out vibe. The event, Tripnotica, is being held at The Delancey this Sunday night. There’s only a $10 admission, but for that $10, I get to not only listen to the new Air CD, but I also get to check out some unknown talent and just lounge in the vibe. I haven’t even put my cash in the hands of the cashier, but I consider it money well spent already. I plan to be out for the whole shebang since I am lucky enough to have President’s day off. You’ll probably be hearing all about it sometime after I return from my chilled out stupor. But I’m ready for a hypnotic trip…no narcotics here, baby. What am I high on? I’m going to be getting high just off the Air that I breathe…
It was cold. No, seriously – it was insanely cold as I waited outside the Hiro Ballroom for almost an hour. Why did I wait? Well, when you look online and see that “doors open at 7pm,” you kinda expect the doors to open at, well, 7pm. I’m the type of person who likes to get to a venue early for a show so I can optimize my viewing and listening position. To move on…the doors didn’t open till about 7:30. But, I’d sit in that cold 20 mph wind tunnel called W. 16th St. again if I had to. Emily Haines & The Soft Skeleton, together with Tall Firs, were worth the loss of feeling in my fingers.
Sometime between 8 and 8:30, the lights dimmed in the Hiro Ballroom. Three rather ordinary looking guys (one of whom I saw shivering out in the cold, talking on his cell) climbed up onto the stage. Looking totally at ease, Tall Firs began their set. If you are familiar with them, what I am going to say will probably make little sense. For those of you who do not know of them, well, just sit back and follow along. These guys were clearly born for the wrong era. Their music, very slow and melancholy, reminded me of something out of the late 60′s/early 70′s. At several points, I heard a little of the moodier vibe of The Doors mixed with some experimental sounds (mainly thinking of Tall Firs’ song “The Woods”). I’d even say that I felt that I was listening to the improvisational stylings of Miles in the Bitches Brew electronic jazz phase of his life. Closing my eyes, I imagined the trio (Dave Mies, Aaron Mullan, & Ryan Sawyer) in some dimly lit, psychedelic scene. Hookah smoke filled the air and everyone in the joint was just letting the vibe of their sound wash over them. The setup at the Hiro had all of that…except the hookah smoke. And damn it! I like myself a little hookah smoke when I am going to be taken on an aural journey with the likes of Tall Firs. Their music is perfect for sitting in a hookah bar, on a huge cushion on the floor. If you can get one of your hottest lady friends to throw on a blue gingham dress (the shorter, the better…for you, you dirty perv), a blond wig, and some sexy Mary Janes, you can act like you’re the Caterpillar, on your fungal throne, and she’s poor Alice who has lost her way in Wonderland. Now, for any of you who actually manage to pull this off and have photographic evidence, you and the lady get drinks courtesy of yours truly. I’m a man of my word. Back to the point (I get on tangents sometimes), I really enjoyed the relaxed vibe of Tall Firs. Watching them perform…it looked as if all three of them went into a trance, only to return when the music was over. It reminded me of listening to “Eight Miles High” by The Byrds. And let me say that the drummer, Ryan, is AMAZING. The man used a bow (like for violin or cello) on a cymbal while ringing a bell held between his teeth. And at many points during the set, he was actually using his hands instead of drumsticks. He’s more than a drummer; he’s an all-out percussionist. The triad of fellows called Tall Firs? I give you an A; you have earned it. I’ll be getting the CD.
As Tall Firs ended their set, people were still making their way into Hiro. They were here for the same reason I was: the delicious scoop of musical dessert named Emily Haines. Only a handful of us, however, got to devour the cherry on top by being there for the local boys, Tall Firs. Emily Haines went on at about 9:20…and I was heartbroken when she left. She played through the entire album, Knives Don’t Have Your Back. It was a haunting, ethereal experience to be sitting 3 rows from the stage. She is a magnificent performer – her voice is crystalline, her band is tight, her sound lingers in your mind, waiting for you to go to sleep to be the soundtrack for your dreams. My favorite song is “Doctor Blind,” and to be there to hear her sing it, it was like hearing it through my headphones only clearer. She sounds exactly as breathy and mysterious in person as she does on CD. It was an immaculate performance. The set was bathed in a dim purple light. She recruited a local string quartet. She sat at her keyboard. You would think that you were just invited to sit in on the recording of the album. Every 3 songs or so, she’d take a break and talk us. She told us about having talked about her father, late “jazz poet” Paul Haines, on the radio. She even shared some of her father’s poetry with us. Yeah…she read it to us like we were her friends finishing a bottle of wine together. Emily (speaking like we hang out or something) even told us about how she never even noticed the fact that the album of her father’s that she mimicked Knives‘s cover art from (Escalator Over the Hill) had a song called “Detective Writer Daughter” on it until after she had already written her song, “Detective Daughter.” She shared that “indie rock…is like high school” socially – someone always hating the cheerleader. And she drinks Guinness; I never would have figured her for a beer type based on her sound. The album is perfect for sitting at a cafe on a cloudy day sipping the reddest wine they have. The most haunting performance was easily “Crowd Surf off a Cliff.” I got goosebumps. Once the set ended, she gave us two little bon-bons to take with us – a cover of Buffalo Springfield’s “Expecting to Fly” and a cover of “The Woods” by Tall Firs. The Brooklyn trio returned to the stage, and together…beautiful, haunting, moody music was made. Emily, not that you will ever read this, but if you do, I went to the show because I was such a fan of Metric, but I would return again and again…for you. Emily Haines & The Soft Skeleton get an A+.
Notice that it wasn’t just an ordinary A+…it was gold. And that is exactly what the show was – the proverbial slice of fried gold. *gasps in exasperation* First, you missed the Family Guy reference…now you can’t even get the Shaun of the Dead one? Well, ****-a-doodle-doo! Why do I even bother?
*cracks neck* It’s been a while since I was last here. And certain individuals, whom shall remain nameless but happen to have a penchant for lewd acts and even lewder fashion, have been encouraging me to be a tad bit more vocal. I have decided to make them feel that they have a purpose after all…despite what evolution said to the contrary.
This blog is going to be a little different – a bit off the beat and path. Kinda what Borat looks like dancing. What am I babbling on about? A little time consumer that I have been involved in – it’s called Gears of War. For those who happen to have had their heads stuck in places that often haunt me in the darkness of night, it is a video game for the Xbox 360. Yeah, I still play video games. Yes, I have a wife. Any other mundane, irrelevant questions? No? Good.
The game is a violent, visceral thrill. Running around as part of what little remains of the human forces trying to save what little is left of the planet from a horde of FUGLY SOBs called the Locust Horde. And if they are ugly, they are at least 3 times as ornery. This is NOT a game for the young’uns. This is big people fun here. There are guns, guts, glory, gratuitous grossness, and an overall middle finger prominently displayed for politicians, slack-jawed parents, and whiny ninnies who have nothing better to do than to complain about America’s laziness and moral decay. I have a good time playing Gears of War and I recommend it. Why? The game is gorgeous – if you want to see what “next generation” graphics look like, take a gander. When you have tactfully picked your jaw up off the floor and wiped away the drool, try picking up the controller. *shakes head* I said pick up the controller after you wipe off the drool. The control scheme is tight and intuitive – left analog stick moves you around, right analog sticks lets you look around, right trigger does what, class? It shoots – it is called a trigger after all. The movement is fluid; the intensity ramped up. I play quite a few games, and I was violently violated more than once so far. It is dirty, mischievous fun…like watching your sister’s hot friends when they come to sleep over. Plus it relieves stress.
Life is pretty hectic as it is. We have lives, loved ones, responsibilities, occupations – we can all use some distraction every now and again. Some people have alcohol…some people have porn…I have killing monsters that are trying to kill me and anyone else within their reach. It keeps me happy – it keeps me level. And I think all of us need that. Where we find it is up to our own idiosyncratic nuances. Sometimes, I get that from music (I am planning on writing something about one of my new faves, Cobra Starship, soon). As I have recently gotten a device that allows me to listen to mp3s, I feel able to spend more time with music. And I have missed that. But when I get home after a hard day, I fire up the 360, grab my Lancer assault rifle with the chainsaw (yep, there’s a chainsaw ON on the gun!), and forget that I have a responsibility to be morally upstanding. And there’s nothing wrong with that.
Wow…it’s hard to believe that I’m really here. Lo and behold, here I be. I guess a small introduction is in order. For those of you playing the home game, I am the latest addition to the roster of misfits destined to overtake the globe known as Crackers United. You may address me as Ric. *bows humbly* Now to why we are all here…
I had the joy of experiencing my first outing as a “Cracker-on-the-scene” by heading out to a pretty sweet concert Wednesday night at Irving Plaza. I guess I never had anything to post on the blog, so I got out there and found something to do worth taking up virtual space and your valuable reading time to write about. The bill: Action Action, Morningwood, and the headliner, The Sounds. Overall, the show was pretty rockin’. But that tells you nothing; let’s get down to specifics.
Action Action started the show off with a rather explosive set. They were pumped, playing to a half to 3/4 filled scene as though the room was wall-to-wall with hot, nubile hipster goddesses ready to claim the band as personal slaves for goddess lovin’. Oh, there were some in da house; make no mistakes. But I digress… This is my first time seeing the quartet, but they did a good job of impressing me. The set lasted about 40 minutes. Even though I was not familiar with their catalog, I liked them. They reminded me a little of a toned down, more up-beat version of Panic! at the Disco. But hey…that could have been the effect of the earplugs. What? I’m old so I value my hearing; shut up. I give them a B.
Next up to bat, the main reason I wanted to go – Morningwood. All giggling about the name aside, their self-titled CD gets heavy rotation in my player (I’m working on getting an iPod – the going rate for a male gigolo is marginal at present so it’ll take some time). Plus I heard that they put on a mean show. Give it all up for the delicious buxom bombshell, Chantal Claret. This hair-whippin’, horse-ridin’, breast-bouncin’ ball of thunder thighs and wild rock girl sexiness bent the crowd to her every whim. The band even explained how they rate each crowd: good crowds are “T*ts”, super good crowds are the “T*t’s Nipple”, and the creme de la creme earn the title of the “Bead.” Orlando, Fl got the “Bead” so we had to get it. “Bead of what,” you ask? Bead of sweat. “Bead of sweat where, ” you say? Um…I think you can figure that out (hint: notice how the super crowd title built on the foundation of the good crowd grade? Do the math). We earned each letter of the “Bead” one at a time. And when they did “Take Off Your Clothes,” as an audience member was stripped to her now-mentioned unmentionables by Chantal, we knew the “Bead” was ours. Besides…we had home field advantage.
Overall, Morningwood gets an A-.
After a brief change of equipment, The Sounds took the stage. Hot damn, Maja Ivarsson is crazy fine! I mean, I bobbed my head to “Mine For Life” on quite a few occasions, but I never thought about how incredibly hot the package the voice was coming from would be. She should be nicknamed “The Blond Bullet” – she was ricocheting all over the stage; she even dived into the crowd, rode a massive people wave, and continued rocking. Did I mention that she was wearing a slinky black dress and “I’m-a-dirty-girl” stilettos? She sounded great, even through the earplugs, and the band was tight. I give many props to the keyboardist. Man, he got into tickling the ivories and ebonies. I had heard that some people, not naming names this round Tex, say that The Sounds were not good in concert. Nay, my faithful friends; out of the 3 bands featured, The Sounds cranked the crowd up the most, whipping them into a frenzy of sing-a-long bliss. The two L.I. hotties next to me were singing and dancing, continuously bumping me while I was trying to snap off pitiful shots like the one you see here. But the one closest and chattiest with me did dedicate a few minutes of her tantric state to lusciously grind against me – yeah, I guess that made us even. Running through classics (“Mine For Life”, “Living in America”) and tracks off the latest (“Painted By Numbers”, “Queen of Apology”), The Sounds put on one hell of a show. I’d so go see them again.
The Sounds – no question – get an A.
Well, that’s it, kiddies. I’m done here – you can go home now. And just in case I wasn’t clear – Chantal? Maja? Oh yeah, I’d wreck those chicks… *shakes his head in disappointed negation* Don’t you filthy apes watch Family Guy?!?
