MOG - alev10's Posts

far too long.

alev10 — Wed, 23 Jan 2008 07:45:19 GMT

my lengthy silence isn't due to lack of music listening or mog unloyalty . . . simply just haven't had anything to say. it's funny when your muse decides to join you again during the bleakest of times (or perhaps i'm truly just a moody ass post-high school adolescent).

anyway. band of horses, yay. although i love the singer's vivid, achy voice, i prefer to listen to his assumed inspirations: my morning jacket and/or the shins. i do, however, love "the funeral" and (unfortunately) "no one's gonna love you" resonates well with me.

peace.

wish i could talk that fast.

alev10 — Mon, 14 May 2007 09:08:11 GMT

i have a problem with verbosity, so to keep it concise (and to hide my devastation after the warriors loss) we'll go with a bulleted list.

• coming off a big gsw win, the nas concert was even tighter than anticipated. snoop-a-loop popped in, as did jt the bigga figga. blunts aplenty and patron aflow.

(thought it was hella wack the audience didn't try to get an encore. nas is east coast and a boss--these sf cats were trippin. makes me believe that only half the people there were true fans. not everyone knew ever word. oh well.)

• from what i hear, i'm feelin the bone thugs album. i haven't really listened to the lyrics much, but the production is hella raw.

i believe.

alev10 — Thu, 03 May 2007 20:30:36 GMT

As I mentioned in the tail end of my last post, ima see Nas tonight man. Who cares if I woke up at 4am coughing up a lung! Who cares if I just walked out my last class damn near vomiting! Tonight’s a big ass night and I’m not going to let nature’s defiance hinder life’s luxuries. After my longest day of the week, I’m gonna watch my boys bury Dirk and his wack ass team in the Oak. Promptly after that sweet victory some folks and I will be smashin’ out to the city. (Um, did I mention I’m hella sick? Oh yeah. Anyway, sometimes you just have to go hard.)

On that note, I failed to mention how hard I went on Tuesday. Long story short: the immigration rights protest on campus mobilized and we all shmobbed to Downtown BART. We were greeted by a lovely cluster of police who were not feelin us. Our plan was to take a train to the Civic Center in SF and meet up with the congregation of people that were already there rallying. But, things rarely work out that flawlessly—especially when you’re a fat ass group of (colored) college students. We were threatened with arrest if we boarded. So, the majority of us said fuck it and hopped the gates, while some stayed behind. Above the platform was a flashing sign that read “TRAIN WON’T STOP.” Those unaffiliated with the entourage (and probably unaware of May Day) were mighty pissed—especially commuters .

To get that money and accommodate the needs of our fellow riders, BART administrators stopped the train anyway…at the very end of the platform and with backup police demanding proof of ticket purchases at the door. Being the crafty, intelligent students we are, however, a few of us had old tickets and entered the train. We then collected everyone’s tickets and sent someone off the train to hand them out to our associates. They came on and we repeated the aforementioned steps a few times, until all 30-40 of us played the pigs and kept it moving. Aware that our arrival at the Civic Center stop was anticipated, I suggested we get off a stop early to avoid another altercation, and walk a couple of blocks. It worked out beautifully. We marched past curious faces until we met the mass of fellow peaceful protestors. An energy-consuming adventure, but worthy endeavor no less.

It’s a beautiful thing to watch people come together as an expression of wanting something more. To see change. To let all else know we will not settle for things the way they are. I’ve felt a little discouraged and let down by my peers since entering the over-hyped, over-credited realm of higher education, so this day was a reassurance I, personally, really needed. The institutionalized racism and strife we face today is all too often overlooked. My generation has been too silent, and much of that is attributed to fear. Even at Berkeley, the stomping grounds of some of the most active figures in history, no one wants to open their fuckin mouth. What many fail to realize, though, is that the radical sentiments of the 60’s— powerful in that respective era—aren’t necessarily the only forms of effective protest and resistance. We are in an age where race, class, and gender frame every facet of life. Subtly. Blatantly. Constantly. To allow time to pass us by and to let brilliant minds waste away is self-destructive. Any act of resistance; spoken, written, danced, whatever the fuck it is, is far better than doing nothing. Just as contagious apathy seems to have inundated America, its antithesis, contagious activism needs to emerge. Soon. And from all generations alike.

Anyway, this was not intended to become a half-assed, inarticulate, pipe-dreamy political rant, but I had to throw something in there to complement my go-hard-day-one story. I noticed than most MOGgers are a few years older than me, so I thought I’d interject a little blurb on what goes down with lazy ass college kids today. (Believe me, I’m tryna step my game up.)

All right, with that said: I believe. Go Warriors. Here’s one of my favorite Nas songs off The Lost Tapes.

.paz. y ♥

PS: I always think it's hella ridiculous when folks assume since I'm a female I wouldn't appreciate him as much. People have this weird stigma and they can't seem to a) listen to his lyrics and b) get past his 'hard' exterior. Trippin'. People need to just shut up and listen.

nerds.

alev10 — Thu, 03 May 2007 00:01:54 GMT

Went to the Independent in the SF on Monday night to see Sloan. I have to admit I liked their opener, The 88, more than I liked them. Different energy, however, so all in all they were both enjoyable to watch. The 88 had a more poppy sound and reeked with the potential to “go big.” They had on matching polka dotted ties and collared shirts. Very MTV friendly (kind of a turnoff, but hey).

Sloan, on the other hand, put on a longer show than I had anticipated (seeing as they had to drive down to LA the same night). The lead singer epitomized the whole nerdy-kid-with-good-music-taste appeal. Although he was probably like twenty years my senior, he was reminiscent of my not too far-gone high school classmates that played Magic still. I think it was his really corny jokes that did it, but I like when the artist speaks to the audience a lot—shows that they’re present and not simply on stage to emulate their music videos.

They often switched instruments. At some points the drummer got up to sing. Wasn’t a huge fan, but I appreciated his more punkish presence. The bassist, though, was my favorite. He has this high little voice and a demeanor that automatically caused you to like his songs the most. It wasn’t really sympathy, he just wasn’t obnoxious/trying too hard nor was he attempting to be a bad ass.

Overall, ‘twas an enjoyable rocker evening. In spite of the older crowd and occasional wafting smell of shit, the venue was tight too.

…up next on the entirely different end of the spectrum is Nas at the SF Mezzanine. HELLA juiced.

transcending first impressions.

alev10 — Thu, 26 Apr 2007 08:11:05 GMT

prior to joss stone's newest album, i have to admit, to me she was one of those chicks that has a raw ass voice, but after two or three songs you just want her to shut up. (at times the same sentiment goes with the lovely goapele...) introducing joss stone, however, was indeed an introduction to a new person. the songs are unique enough for me to even listen to the whole cd in one sitting. crazy.

what tickles my fancy the most is that she dragged ms. hill onto "music"-an accomplishment that more or less makes the cd worth listening to-for an ethereal breakdown of our greatest love. the queen has surely spoken.

oh, and common's track ain't to shabby either.

Colours of sound Scales and beauty Audio scenery Electric love and Rhythmic symmetry Written in memory Beautifully crafted scenery Complex or simplicity Sonic energy Piercing insensitivity Sympathetic poetry For some even identity Collective entity Something to belong to A source of energy The possibilities Wave lengths and bandwith Higher vibration Energizing entire lands with Something to stand with Or stand for Lovers to walk hand in hand with Then plan for Sanctuary chords Harmony, melodies, even riffs can be Disguised human essence Sonically bottled ecstasy Or melancholy Agony blues angst Exercising anxieties Fueling entire societies Making economies Stimulating, generating Inspiration synonymously Entertaining, expression Intangible, invisible but undeniable Plays the language of excitement on survival Some call it tribal But perspective is everything Connected to everything Some say collectively Everything

for the sake of my current mood, though, ima hand some audible kudos to proper nice. pretty exemplary of her artistic maturation.

Figure it out man.

alev10 — Fri, 20 Apr 2007 02:57:11 GMT

"Relax and let the sugar love flow… AND THEN POP LOCK N DROP IT. And then come inside and check lo… ‘CUZ IN THE BAY WE GET HYPHY, STUPID DUMB N HYPHY."

Schizophrenia. Not on the human brain tip. I’m talking about people’s mixes. While everyone likes to have the occasional all-encompassing mix—across genre lines, tempos, moods, etc.—some folks just do not have a knack (or a clue) for creating mixes. Generally speaking, I’m a pretty open person and I try not judge people by their musical taste. Aesthetics, on the other hand, is something completely different and can project someone’s personality. It’s almost like acting with conviction. How are you about to put “Wish I Could” by Norah Jones as #3 and then “Overnight Celebrity” by Twista as #4? I have both of those songs and I honor eclecticism, but come on man, don’t expose yourself as a totally and utterly inept listener. (And definitely do NOT act like you’re actually juiced about how “assorted” your mix is.) Crappy compilations usually indicate a lazy listener. A passive, submissive sheep who’s just listening to music because it’s obligatory. Lame.

This disability can be remedied though. The trick, is transitions and continuity. Everyone has their own mix-making-steez, but if you have a jumble of random ass shit, this is a subtle way of making a somewhat cohesive lostandfoundbox of a mix. Whether it’s lyrics, a particular instrument, an intro from a movie, whatever; make the songs fit for your potential listener. Basically, if a dude gives me a wack mix—it’s a wrap. Don’t be that dude and hone this relatively easy skill.

On another note: The Ron Carter Quartet was fuckin fabulous. He was quite charming. His pianist was a spitting image of Cee-Lo, and the percussionist seemed like he was on uppers. Collaboratively, they ended my birthday evening on a perfect note. It left a jazzy taste in my mouth, so I’ve been eating a lot of Eddie Palmieri, Etta James and Sarah Vaughan. (Speaking of Sarah Vaughan, I hadn’t heard “Lullaby of Birdland” in a while. It threw me back to childhood. I vividly remember my mom hitting the high notes, and in spite of her thick Japanese accent, she sang the words quite well.)

[deuces, love, and good music.]

it's my birthday. i'll kick it if i want to.

alev10 — Thu, 12 Apr 2007 19:10:28 GMT

ron carter. april 15th. sunday. yoshi's (oakland). birthday. fam. food. love.

left, but not gone.

alev10 — Tue, 10 Apr 2007 04:49:34 GMT

met this song a bit ago. i was in the midst of papers, caffeine, and an internet connection that was hella detrimental to a long attention span. (thank god, though).

my first reaction was to turn this shit up. my eyelids fell shut and i couldn't stop sighing. i mean, i love music with every cell in my body, but it's not often i just shutdown and have a moment where i lose the majority of my motor skills. instead, it moved me internally. and for the first time since his passing, i felt the heavy void of a human loss.