I don't know how I've made it this long on here without giving this song, possibly the greatest song ever, the proper respect it deserves. Of course I'm referring to Love's "Alone Again Or," first track from the album Forever Changes (one of the best albums, ever).
Take a listen
Downright amazing, isn't it?? You may recognize the song from Wes Anderson's Bottle Rocket, or from the Calexico cover a few year back, or just from it being a goddamn great song.
The flamenco-esque style works so well, with in the trumpet highlights and then the most excellent solo in the middle, accompanied by strings. The vocals are borderline desperate, which creates some tension with the upbeat instrumental arrangement, resulting in awesome. Words fail me. Just listen to the song again, and appreciate all that Love has done for us.
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Post about girls
First off, today's music!
The Flying Machines (site | myspace) are a band of Fender-wielding lads from New York City. To me, they sound like if ELO and Queen's illegitimate daughter hooked up with Rivers Cuomo. They've been tearing it up on XM, and have a great, catchy sound that gets your head a-bobbin'. A great band to listen to during a winter that would have had Les Stroud saying "fuck this!" at least twice a week. (note: Les Stroud deserves, and will get, his on post sometime in the near future. That guy is the fucking man. I wish I had a page on Wikipedia that said my occupation was "musician/survivalist.")
I still have no idea how I have yet to totally wipe out, to have my ass hit the ice while I'm walking around. Of course you know now that it'll happen sometime in the next 36 minutes. But I don't know what a tenant is supposed to do to the sidewalks. Shoveling the snow off is nice, but if it's done too well, then there's just a sheet of ice that requires a blade to cross, as opposed to the traditional rubber tread. If no snow is shoveled, then you're up to your balls in snow. Believe me. Over the past week, I've walked in/on/through it all.
On sidewalks where nothing is done, I glance at the house, and shake my head. Places that have been shoveled down to the ice layer, well, I spend too much time trying not to bust my ass to worry too much about it. There were many times when my foot slipped and I let out a high-pitch "woo!" as I regain my balance, and then chuckled to myself as I imagined what I looked/sounded like. A lot of places had some snow still dusted on the ice patches. Those actually were the best places to walk, there was at least some traction, and not enough snow to coat the cuff of my pants. Somehow, I still haven't figured it out, there were a couple of places that had the sidewalks totally cleared! I wanted to go knock on the doors and shake the person's hand that was responsible, maybe even a hug. And, if they had an attractive daughter around my age, I would probably try to court her, because she comes from a good family.
Which brings me to a different topic altogether. Why is it that there are so many girls my age that are married? Sure, 27 isn't "young" young, it's not like I'm 22 anymore. But still, I hate that I'm to a point in my life where I have to glance at someone's hand for a ring. Like today, the cute girl at the mall who sold me a vanilla cream Italian soda. She was really cute, and really nice. And had a wedding ring on her finger. But, it's not like it would have changed anything if she didn't. I still wouldn't have really talked with her. I'm pretty sure she was being nice because she's a nice girl, and because I was the only customer at the time. For a second, though, I thought there was a connection. I mean, I've been looking good lately, the hair is rockin' out pretty hard, and I had even sort of recently shaved. Is it too much to think that a girl is interested? Besides, she may have gotten a better tip if her household didn't have a second income.
I did get hit on last night, though! I got gas, and stopped inside the station for a Diet Dr Pepper, and decided to get a Whatchamacallit bar. The girl at the counter said "ooh, I love these!" I said, "yeah, they're good." She said, "I try to stay away from them, though, they're not really good for you. It doesn't look like you need to worry about that, though," and smiled at me in a strange way. I laughed uncomfortably and left. She might have been kind of cute if she were a few years older and not working at a gas station. And maybe lost like 10 pounds. And if I had about 7 beers in me. She may have had a chance if all those things happened. (Not that I'm picky or anything. I'm not really desperate either, though.) But still, it was a little confidence boost. Though, I could be reading too much into it, she probably just really likes the peanut flavor crisps, along with the caramel and rich chocolately coating.
Well, that's not exactly where I was planning on this post going today, but hey, that works. I feel good about it. And I"m listening to my music recommendation for tomorrow. Also tomorrow, look for an open letter to J.J. Abrams.
The Flying Machines (site | myspace) are a band of Fender-wielding lads from New York City. To me, they sound like if ELO and Queen's illegitimate daughter hooked up with Rivers Cuomo. They've been tearing it up on XM, and have a great, catchy sound that gets your head a-bobbin'. A great band to listen to during a winter that would have had Les Stroud saying "fuck this!" at least twice a week. (note: Les Stroud deserves, and will get, his on post sometime in the near future. That guy is the fucking man. I wish I had a page on Wikipedia that said my occupation was "musician/survivalist.")
I still have no idea how I have yet to totally wipe out, to have my ass hit the ice while I'm walking around. Of course you know now that it'll happen sometime in the next 36 minutes. But I don't know what a tenant is supposed to do to the sidewalks. Shoveling the snow off is nice, but if it's done too well, then there's just a sheet of ice that requires a blade to cross, as opposed to the traditional rubber tread. If no snow is shoveled, then you're up to your balls in snow. Believe me. Over the past week, I've walked in/on/through it all.
On sidewalks where nothing is done, I glance at the house, and shake my head. Places that have been shoveled down to the ice layer, well, I spend too much time trying not to bust my ass to worry too much about it. There were many times when my foot slipped and I let out a high-pitch "woo!" as I regain my balance, and then chuckled to myself as I imagined what I looked/sounded like. A lot of places had some snow still dusted on the ice patches. Those actually were the best places to walk, there was at least some traction, and not enough snow to coat the cuff of my pants. Somehow, I still haven't figured it out, there were a couple of places that had the sidewalks totally cleared! I wanted to go knock on the doors and shake the person's hand that was responsible, maybe even a hug. And, if they had an attractive daughter around my age, I would probably try to court her, because she comes from a good family.
Which brings me to a different topic altogether. Why is it that there are so many girls my age that are married? Sure, 27 isn't "young" young, it's not like I'm 22 anymore. But still, I hate that I'm to a point in my life where I have to glance at someone's hand for a ring. Like today, the cute girl at the mall who sold me a vanilla cream Italian soda. She was really cute, and really nice. And had a wedding ring on her finger. But, it's not like it would have changed anything if she didn't. I still wouldn't have really talked with her. I'm pretty sure she was being nice because she's a nice girl, and because I was the only customer at the time. For a second, though, I thought there was a connection. I mean, I've been looking good lately, the hair is rockin' out pretty hard, and I had even sort of recently shaved. Is it too much to think that a girl is interested? Besides, she may have gotten a better tip if her household didn't have a second income.
I did get hit on last night, though! I got gas, and stopped inside the station for a Diet Dr Pepper, and decided to get a Whatchamacallit bar. The girl at the counter said "ooh, I love these!" I said, "yeah, they're good." She said, "I try to stay away from them, though, they're not really good for you. It doesn't look like you need to worry about that, though," and smiled at me in a strange way. I laughed uncomfortably and left. She might have been kind of cute if she were a few years older and not working at a gas station. And maybe lost like 10 pounds. And if I had about 7 beers in me. She may have had a chance if all those things happened. (Not that I'm picky or anything. I'm not really desperate either, though.) But still, it was a little confidence boost. Though, I could be reading too much into it, she probably just really likes the peanut flavor crisps, along with the caramel and rich chocolately coating.
Well, that's not exactly where I was planning on this post going today, but hey, that works. I feel good about it. And I"m listening to my music recommendation for tomorrow. Also tomorrow, look for an open letter to J.J. Abrams.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
A couple videos, sandwiched around some words, and love
This video is for Captain Crab, who sent me the link this morning. It's awesome, truly hilarious!
Last night I apparently decided that I wanted to sleep on my futon in the living room. My room just felt too warm, the living room was much more comfortable. But while I was laying there, I really felt like falling asleep watching television, which presents a problem: we don't have cable, and can't receive any channels very well through an antenna. And it's worked out pretty well, there are very rarely any times where I "need" to watch TV, and not having anything to watch made me actually do stuff. If there's ever anything I have to watch (the World Series, Hawkeye away games, etc), I can just go over to my brother's place and watch it on their gigantic plasma-screen TV. There are the times, however, like last night, where having the Food Network or ESPN or the History Channel or the Discovery Channel would've been pretty amazing. Then again, I'd probably have to pay for it, and I'm not sure how I fell about that.
Something else happened last night that may have changed my life. At work, I found out that there is an ice cream flavor (I think Ben & Jerry's) called something like "Cinnamon bun batter" or something similar. This, when added to apple pie, has the power to bring about world peace, I'm convinced. It made me feel like life isn't so bad. I'm pretty sure when I took a bite of the ice cream and pie together, I saw love visualized, appearing before my eyes in the form of colors, and birds, and shooting stars, all on top of a grass-covered hill in the middle of a meadow. This combination made me want to cry. It seriously made me weak in the knees. I can't explain it, you must try it for yourself. Preferably with a warm, homemade Dutch apple pie. But if you fall into a love-(or sugar-) induced coma, don't say I didn't warn you.
And now, for a musical interpretation of love, ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Chet Baker!
Last night I apparently decided that I wanted to sleep on my futon in the living room. My room just felt too warm, the living room was much more comfortable. But while I was laying there, I really felt like falling asleep watching television, which presents a problem: we don't have cable, and can't receive any channels very well through an antenna. And it's worked out pretty well, there are very rarely any times where I "need" to watch TV, and not having anything to watch made me actually do stuff. If there's ever anything I have to watch (the World Series, Hawkeye away games, etc), I can just go over to my brother's place and watch it on their gigantic plasma-screen TV. There are the times, however, like last night, where having the Food Network or ESPN or the History Channel or the Discovery Channel would've been pretty amazing. Then again, I'd probably have to pay for it, and I'm not sure how I fell about that.
Something else happened last night that may have changed my life. At work, I found out that there is an ice cream flavor (I think Ben & Jerry's) called something like "Cinnamon bun batter" or something similar. This, when added to apple pie, has the power to bring about world peace, I'm convinced. It made me feel like life isn't so bad. I'm pretty sure when I took a bite of the ice cream and pie together, I saw love visualized, appearing before my eyes in the form of colors, and birds, and shooting stars, all on top of a grass-covered hill in the middle of a meadow. This combination made me want to cry. It seriously made me weak in the knees. I can't explain it, you must try it for yourself. Preferably with a warm, homemade Dutch apple pie. But if you fall into a love-(or sugar-) induced coma, don't say I didn't warn you.
And now, for a musical interpretation of love, ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Chet Baker!
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