MOG - really91's Posts

"Stop by anytime, I've got the bookshelves loaded..."

really91 — Sun, 29 Jul 2007 05:10:48 GMT

Usually when I'm enchanted by some new musical discovery, I'll hop on over to this website and discover that MOGsters far more hip and astute than myself have already posted about said artist.

That is not the case with Devon Sproule, which is astonishing to me.

Devon Sproule rocks my world. If the Ditty Bops and Jolie Holland all got together and had a jazzy little baby who was, at birth, sprinkled with her own special Awesome Dust by the Fairy Queen of Folk and/or Americana music, she might grow up to make an album like Keep Your Silver Shined.

I suspect I'm late to the party, but...

really91 — Sun, 29 Jul 2007 04:59:37 GMT

Jenny Owen Youngs is totally my current indie pop girlcrush. That is all.

"Haven't you heard that I'm gonna be okay?"

really91 — Tue, 27 Mar 2007 00:17:20 GMT

Bad music is bad music is bad music. I mean, if we're going to be real, at least 25% of what you'll hear on Top 40 radio doesn't even qualify as music, and what is it doing to 12-year-olds when they listen to that crap?

And yet.

A few years ago, Hilary Duff, in her quest for World Tween Domination, released her first single, "So Yesterday," with these lyrics. Notable lines: Thank you - you made my mind up for me When you started to ignore me Do you see a single tear? It isn't gonna happen here

Not exactly great poetry. But flash back to when I was 12 years old, and one of my favorite songs was "I'll Never Get Over You (Getting Over Me)" by Exposé, with these lyrics. Notable lines: I try to smile so the hurt won't show Tell everybody I was glad to see you go But the tears just won't go away Loneliness found me, looks like it's here to stay

Bad music is bad music is bad music, yeah. Or not even music at all. But there was a change somewhere in the dozen years or so between when these songs were written. I'm just saying - if your preteen daughter, or sister, or whatever, insisted on listening to crappy pop music, as so many of them will, which lyrics would you rather have her memorizing? Even if we're not selling better music to these girls, are we selling them better self-esteem? Sometimes, at least?

(There's another lesson here: I grew up listening to garbage like that, and my musical taste wasn't permanently destroyed. It's not irreversible.)

And I don't care what you say, those lines about how she's gonna keep his jeans and his old black hat 'cause they look good on her, and he's never gonna get them back? I want to go back in time to when I was 14 and be best friends with the girl in that song.

"you're all bad and that's why you've been invited..."

really91 — Mon, 29 Jan 2007 02:11:32 GMT

Think of Eleni Mandell on Country for True Lovers as a young Rickie Lee Jones with an alt-country twist, covering Merle Haggard and Irma Thomas. Needless to say, that one-sentence description is chock full of various different kinds of awesomeness, so you can take it as a hearty recommendation.

I'll have to check out her other albums, which are, from what I gather, more "alt" than "country." Tom Waits disciples are always worth a listen.

"these days we go to waste like wine that turns to turpentine / it's six a.m. and I'm all fucked up..."

really91 — Sun, 21 Jan 2007 02:23:13 GMT

It would not be an exaggeration to say that the single album I am most looking forward to hearing in 2007 is the upcoming release from Brandi Carlile, which was recorded in 11 days and produced by T-Bone Burnett.

Her self-titled debut came dangerously close to being produced and marketed like pop music, even though it really wasn't - several songs have been featured on Gray's Anatomy and one was even included on the soundtrack for The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. (Although, for the record? I fucking love that movie.) I'm not a huge fan of the two most popular tracks, "Tragedy" and "Fall Apart Again," which are way too maudlin and poppy, respectively, for my taste. But even with the relatively simple songwriting, the hookiness and emotional resonance of most of the songs is undeniable. And her style is an intriguing hybrid of influences ranging from Patsy Cline to Radiohead, which doesn't hurt.

But there are a million other girls with guitars who are decent songwriters - if there's one thing that really sets Brandi Carlile apart, it's her rich, powerful voice. A track like "Throw It All Away" might not have been that exceptional, for example, if not for the fact that it has one of the best vocals I've ever heard.

I'd listen to Brandi sing anything, but what makes me really excited about the new release is the raw, rootsy style that suits her much more than the attempts to be pop radio (or even Gray's Anatomy soundtrack) friendly. The best songs on her debut album were the ones like "What Can I Say" and "Closer to You" that sounded like they could have been recorded any time in the last forty years. She may be an emerging new talent, all of 24 years old, but she already sounds timeless.

"And you think you're alone..."

really91 — Fri, 19 Jan 2007 15:23:22 GMT

Here's why I've always loved Imogen Heap's song "Goodnight and Go." The first verse and chorus starts with a perfect description of the way all of us have felt about someone at some point:

Skipping beats, flushing cheeks, I am struggling Daydreaming bed scenes in a corner cafe And then I'm left in bits recovering Tectonic tremblings You get me every time

Why'd you have to be so cute? It's impossible to ignore you Must you make me laugh so much? It's bad enough we get along so well Say goodnight and go

So far, so good, right? You can completely relate. I know you can. But here's what happens next:

Follow you home, you've got your headphones on and you're dancing Got lucky, beautiful shot, you taking everything off, watch the curtains wide open Then you fall in the same routine, flicking through the TV, relaxed and reclining And you think you're alone...

BOOM! You're a stalker!

Love it. To me, that transition to the second verse is akin to some of the all-time great film fakeouts. She sets you up to identify with the lyrics, thinking, "Oh yeah, I know exactly how that feels," and then a moment later you realize you're sympathizing with a psychopath. If you're even paying attention. That's the best part. This song was on one of the soundtracks to The O.C., so I'm sure dozens of 15-year-old girls wrote in their diaries, "omg, this song is like exactly how I feel about Tommy."

Tommy might want to start closing his curtains.

"Oh maybe I'm a poor girl, but I don't worry about it none..."

really91 — Fri, 19 Jan 2007 15:04:33 GMT

Someone from the MOG team has kindly promised that my digital music collection will be wiped out at some point soon, so I can start fresh, which I appreciate. Coming back soon, automated widgets - better! than ever! Well, kind of the same, without duplicates. Tom Waits and Lucinda Williams will still be king and queen of the forest, that much I can assure you.

Anyway. Since I've finally managed to come up with a decent job, I'm saving for a new iPod. (I'm also lobbying people to contribute to the fund and/or flat-out buy me one for my birthday at the end of March, so we'll see how that goes.) Here is my dilemma. My workplace sells iPods, which means I should have a 10% discount, which is already a pretty damn good deal. Ever since I got my last iPod, in the fall of '05, I've been planning for an upgrade sometime in the spring of '07 in which I would go as big as I possibly could. Which, at this point, means the 80gb. (The iPhone can fuck off. I hate telephones.) My store currently has the 80gb priced at $348 and the 30gb at $248 - pretty standard, from what I recall.

But now I'm wondering if I really need the 80gb. My current music and video collection is closer to 20gb, though now that I have all that new storage space for my computer, I'll probably pass 30gb in the near future when I get around to ripping the rest of my CD collection and downloading episodes of The Office I've been waiting on buying. But maybe I can live without having my entire collection on my iPod. My biggest problem with my current iPod - which M. (very sweetly) bought me on eBay without knowing exactly what he was doing - is that it's a refurbished 3rd gen that loses battery power quickly, instead of recharging, when connected to the computer. I can't load more than 150 songs in one shot, which is a huge pain in the ass. But if that wasn't an issue, I wonder if I could deal with having limited space. I mean, clearly the 4gb mini I got in the summer of '04 is just ridiculous, but 30gb would give me a lot more flexibility and even have room for a few episodes of The Office. And save me some money.

On the other hand, for an extra $100, I'd have more than twice the space, and it would probably be quite a while before my digital collection caught up. Does seem like more of a long-term investment.

On the other hand, I'm poor.

Thoughts?

What a pain in the ass

really91 — Mon, 15 Jan 2007 00:43:04 GMT

I've (temporarily?) gotten rid of all my automated widgets on this page because I changed the location of all my music files on my computer just after Christmas. My mom bought me an external hard drive, which was majorly necessary because my computer had taken to shouting, "I don't have anymore disk space, motherfucker!" every time I tried to download music, or rip a CD or, like, launch Windows at all.

The nice thing is that disk space is no longer a concern, the sucky thing is that I can't figure out how to erase all the old mog-o-matic info (particularly when it comes to my digital music collection) so that the new/current info will be accurate. Any ideas? Should I maybe look for some sort of FAQ before I whine in a blog post? Or can it not be done at all?

EDIT: Wait, or should I just uninstall mog-o-matic and reinstall and that will fix everything?

"Well it struck me just this morning, I haven't got a single thing to do."

really91 — Thu, 14 Dec 2006 16:40:51 GMT

What follows is my review of Alice Smith's debut album.

And yeah, it might not look like much of a review, but I should clarify that I have this reaction maybe two or three times a year, tops.

THE REVIEW, in its entirety:

Holy shit, this is fantastic and everyone should buy it.

"And the people I like best, I hate you all."

really91 — Fri, 01 Dec 2006 07:45:53 GMT

If you work as a cashier, or in some similar field, or you just generally have to deal with people who suck on a regular basis, I fully recommend having this song burned onto a CD and ready to go the second you get into your car after work.

Get Set Go - "I Hate Everyone"

Some stupid chick in the checkout line Was paying for beer with nickels and dimes And some old man who clipped coupons Had argued whenever they wouldn't take one All I wanted was to buy some cigarettes But I couldn't take it anymore so I left

I hate everyone I hate everyone I hate everyone I hate everyone

All the people on the street, I hate you all And the people that I meet, I hate you all And the people that I know, I hate you all And the people that I don't, I hate you all Oh, I hate you all

Some fucking asshole just cut me off And gave me the finger when I fucking honked Then he proceeded to put on the brakes He slammed on the brakes, but I made a mistake When I climbed out of my van he was waiting But he was six-three and two hundred pounds of Satan

I hate everyone I hate everyone I hate everyone I hate everyone

All the people on the street, I hate you all And the people that I meet, I hate you all And the people that I know, I hate you all And the people that I don't, I hate you all Oh, I hate you all

I bet you think I'm kidding But I promise you it's true I hate most everybody But most of all I hate Oh, I hate you

All the people on the street, I hate you all And the people that I meet, I hate you all And the people that I know, I hate you all And the people that I don't, I hate you all And the people in the east, I hate you all And the people I like least, I hate you all And the people in the west, I hate you all And the people I like best, I hate you all Oh, I hate you all

Really, I don't hate anyone, and my pissed-off spells are relatively short-lived. I'm actually kind of the opposite, 99.9 percent of the time. But sometimes you just need a song like that. And sometimes you need to sing along with it. Loudly.

Sometimes even three times in a row.

boys and their guitars

really91 — Wed, 29 Nov 2006 13:55:51 GMT

I love that Tom Waits was on The Daily Show last night.

I also love that the "interview" basically consisted of Jon explaining to him, in detail, why he's the greatest thing to happen to music in the last 50 years or so, if not ever. Kind of reminded me why Jon was my number one celebrity crush when I was a teenager, though also a terrible interviewer most of the time.

Speaking of my crushes and music and The Daily Show, here's demonstration #13789 that there's nothing cuter than a boy with his guitar.

"I will take this road so much farther, though I know not where it takes me."

really91 — Mon, 27 Nov 2006 20:25:08 GMT

The day I turned 23, a few years ago, was a little traumatic for me. For some reason, when I was younger, 23 had been cemented in my mind as a magical age when I'd have my life figured out - when, if I hadn't quite reached all my goals yet, I'd at least know where I was going. Instead, of course, I was right in the middle of a standard quarterlife crisis, unsure of anything except the fact that I wasn't ready to get any older. Rilo Kiley was my soundtrack that year. The first time I heard "The Good That Won't Come Out," I thought, "This is exactly how it feels to be 23." It seemed like everything should be happening then, all at once, except I didn't know how to make it start.

A while back, and I can't remember why or how, I ended up with Bettye LaVette's landmark 2005 album, I've Got My Own Hell to Raise. I'd never heard of LaVette, but that's not really surprising considering that she'd only achieved marginal success prior to her breakthrough in 2005. What was really remarkable was that this underrated singer who'd been recording for 43 years finally, at the age of 59, began to find the audience she's always deserved.

I've Got My Own Hell to Raise is a collection of covers - all female songwriters, many of them younger than LaVette, ranging from Fiona Apple to Dolly Parton. It was produced by Joe Henry, a guy with an alt-country background who's done some amazing things with soul singers in recent years (notably, he also produced Solomon Burke's Don't Give Up on Me). Almost every track is a standout, but the opening pair - Sinead O'Connor's a cappella "I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got" and a rocking version of Lucinda Williams' "Joy" - are tough to beat. LaVette has had a great voice ever since she started recording as a teenager, but she sings now with a raw edge and a soulful quality that a younger woman could never quite match.

Despite the stylistic differences, it reminds me a lot of Van Lear Rose, Loretta Lynn's inspired collaboration with Jack White from a few years ago. Granted, Lynn's earlier career was a lot more successful than LaVette's, but it was only with Van Lear Rose that she transcended her status as a country music icon and became relevant, in a more immediate way, to a new generation. At 69 years old, Miss Loretta was kicking ass, singing about a drunken hookup with a rock star half her age in "Portland Oregon," on her first-ever album made up entirely of songs she'd written.

It's hard to worry about getting older when there's proof that old ladies can be pretty damn cool. When I listen to something like I've Got My Own Hell to Raise, I realize how much living is happening already - now - even in those moments when it seems like it's not. And that we should worry less about "the good that won't come out of us" when we're 23, because maybe the truth is that it will just take a few more years, or a few more decades, to figure out how to get it out and where to put it when we do.

I try to imagine what a Jenny Lewis album will sound like when she's 60, or Jolie Holland or Brandi Carlile or Neko Case. I try to imagine the records Janis Joplin might've made, if she'd lived to be 60 instead of making everything happen when she was 23. But mostly I try to imagine myself, 35 years from now - writing novels or running a political campaign, smarter and stronger than ever before, and still with my own hell to raise.

"Stay - off - the crack!"

really91 — Mon, 27 Nov 2006 02:21:27 GMT

My workplace has started playing Christmas music nonstop. And bad music, that's the thing. I mean, I have some Christmas music in my collection, but we're talking Conor Oberst singing "Blue Christmas," selections from Death Cab, Ron Sexsmith, the Eels, Guster's adorable "Donde Esta Santa Claus?", and my all-time favorite - "Christmas Wrapping" by the Waitresses. I am not a scrooge. I know how to get in the holiday spirit (though I prefer to hold off until December).

I am not, however, hearing these songs at work. I'm hearing three bad versions of "The Little Drummer Boy" per hour. It's like someone from the company ordered a set of CDs called Elevator Christmas Carols. It's going to drive me insane, if it doesn't put me to sleep first.

I got home from work and considered my music collection carefully, trying to decide what I was least likely to ever hear coming from the speakers at my store (besides, like, "The Asshole Song" or "Ode to Tipper Gore"). Art Brut it is, then. I don't think I've ever been so in need of a little bang bang rock & roll.

"and if the world does turn, and if London burns, I'll be standing on a beach with my guitar..."

really91 — Sun, 26 Nov 2006 15:15:15 GMT

Since we're still getting to know each other, I feel I should make a few shameful admissions.

1: I don't care what the critics say, A Ghost is Born might be my least favorite Wilco album.

2: My favorite Radiohead album has always been Pablo Honey. What's so wrong with just writing fucking songs, after all? I must have listened to "Anyone Can Play Guitar" approximately six million times in high school. That's not a bad thing.

3: I've never really liked Joni Mitchell. I like her songs a lot, I just prefer them when other people sing them. (My favorite: k.d. lang's cover of "A Case of You.") I've tried repeatedly to see what I might be missing about her actual recordings, and Blue has kind of grown on me, but overall - meh. Even with Leonard Cohen, who I mostly feel the same way about (there are at least half a dozen versions of "Hallelujah" better than his, for example), there's still something like "Famous Blue Raincoat" that only he could sing.

I'll let you know if anything else comes to mind.

Meanwhile, there's this: I'm leaving my current boring retail job for another boring retail job because I need more hours. However, this kickass independent radio station (slogan: "Free the music!") that's headquartered less than a mile from where I live has been advertising for an ads salesperson. Maybe I need to make a phone call tomorrow.

"You know I'm trying but I'm so impatient."

really91 — Fri, 24 Nov 2006 03:59:01 GMT

Wherefore art the Brunettes?

I saw this adorable band from New Zealand in May of 2005, playing at the Avalon in Boston along with Rilo Kiley and Nada Surf. I think they'd just finished touring with the Shins. I didn't even look for a CD that night because we were in a hurry to get back to the T after the show, and I've been trying to figure out where the hell to get one (digitally) ever since.

Subpop has made a few of their recordings available in the U.S., but I haven't found them on either iTunes or eMusic. And frankly, I can't really afford to order an actual CD. I did manage to download "These Things Take Time" - I don't know, somewhere - and there's also MySpace - but it's not enough. They seem to have done some quality touring here (their website also lists dates with Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, though I'm unclear as to whether those are old or upcoming). Considering their awesomeness, why haven't I heard more from these guys?

"let me fall out the window with confetti in my hair..."

really91 — Thu, 23 Nov 2006 18:12:13 GMT

I hate introductions, but here we go. We'll get the awkward part out of the way and then we can pretend it never happened. (This also works well with many other situations in life.)

I have a regular, everyday blog at LiveJournal in which I talk about many things besides music. I'm addicted to books (and libraries), and watch way too much TV, so I've added a little sampling of that here. Anyone is welcome to check out (and comment on) my other blog. But I'll use this one strictly for the music.

My tastes are pretty varied - solid foundations in indie rock, alt-country and old country, blues, American roots music in general, certain mainstream adult contemporary artists, folk and antifolk, '80s and '90s alternative, popular classic rock, etc. Experimenting with bluegrass and soul recently. I go through phases and odd things catch my attention. Tom Waits and Lucinda Williams can do no wrong. Pretty much the only thing I don't like is music that bores me, which tends to include most Top 40 and popular country, but also a lot of hipster crap. I'm not an indie snob, just a nerd who loves a lot of different kinds of music. Above all else, I'm a dabbler.

I can't play any instruments (my disastrous attempt at playing the flute in the sixth grade notwithstanding) and I most definitely can't sing, so music is strictly a spectator sport for me. But I think there's a fiddle player lurking in my heart, so there's that, at least.