Friends

08:22 am - Merry, Merry, Merry.
It's the day before Christmas Eve, and I have to say that I feel like I am finally getting into the spirit. Sure, there's still a level of stress and craziness as I try to juggle everything to do and everyone we have to catch up with. Also, both my daughter and husband have come down with this wicked cold, so I am doing all I can to rally my immune system so I don't go down as well. I really thought we'd get a pass on being sick for Christmas this year, after the debacle that was last year, when we all came down with a throw-up bug on Christmas Eve. THAT was fun. If I have to pick, I'd much rather have a sniffle and a cough than that. Although not being sick at all would be, like, the best gift ever. I'm putting out extra cookies and milk for Santa in the hopes he'll deliver.

Meanwhile, last night I had two of my best girlfriends over for pigs in a blanket (tofu pups for Dana) spinach dip, pizza, wine and Love Actually. It was just what I needed to mark what I decided was the official beginning of my vacation. When you are self employed, and in the midst of a tricky novel, it's REALLY hard to just stop working, even when you know you should. And I should, because my house is so incredibly messy, and none of my gifts are wrapped, and I'm totally exhausted and surrounded by sick folk. Plus, holidays are supposed to be relaxing, right? Please say yes. Anyway, so after having two great work days in my new office---which is so great, I can't even tell you---I'm stepping back. Clocking out until at least next week, and hopefully the new year. It will be good for me, and hopefully for the book as well.

I know it will be good for my house and the clutter that is piled up everywhere. I'm about to grab a garbage bag, put my hair in a ponytail, and get down to it. But before I do, I just want to wish all of you, wherever you are and whatever you happen to believe in, the happiest and healthiest of holidays. It's been a crazy year, busy and fun and stressful (at times) but I would not change a thing. I'm so grateful for all your support, for the fact that you don't judge me too harshly for watching so much TV (hello, Jersey Shore!) and that you read this silly blog so faithfully. You are my co-workers, in a lot of ways, the folks around my water cooler, who make those sort of lonely work days so much more fun. Thank you for that. It means more than you know.

Okay, off to clean. Maybe I'll chug down an Emergen-C first, though.....

Have a great a safe holiday, everyone!

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December 22nd, 2009

06:35 pm - Rise above my station
This post is coming to you from the Albanyish train station. I did not take the train, although the kinda-expensive Amtrak that I would've taken ha bud I taken a train is about to leave for Saratoga (after a stop in Schenectady; yikes). The Megabus goes to Albany now, but it drops off at the train station rather than the bus station, which is kind of confusing, but fine by me, as the train station was redone what seems like recently but was probably actually when I was in college, and though I haven't checked out the Albany bus station in awhile, I'm guessing that's not the case over there. Actually, Saratoga (semi-) recently did away with its bus station (which, seriously, was just a big parking lot behind the Saratoga Diner) and now bus lines just pick up and drop off at the train station (also fixed up sometime in the past five or ten years). This is a good trend, I think. Bus stations are never good news. They should probably keep piggybacking onto train station parking lots, because the parking lots of most modern train stations will be far less depressing than an actual bus station. Like, for example, the Port Authority, while crummy, is probably one of the better bus stations I've been in. (And, to be fair, Penn Station sucks a lot too, definitely moreso than the Albanyish train station.)

Anyway, my sister will be here shortly but in the meantime I thought I'd do some work, which I interpreted to mean LJ post, but I've been sort of paralyzed about which LJ post I should actually get up here, because with the year and decade both ending, I have a lot of listy type things I've started and don't know how to use, because some of them will have eventual outlet at the L Magazine blog, so I don't know whether to cross-post or slightly reformat for my own blog, or just link to them when they go up, which might make the ol' LJ even more redundant with Twitter, and I keep going back and forth about whether which kind of list -- year or decade -- makes more sense to do first and whether a best-albums-of-the-decade list by me would even be all that interesting, surprising, or useful to anyone, even including myself. There are also some movies I never really talked about on here because I have real reviews coming out, and none of those are up yet, so you'll have to hold on for my feelings regarding It's Complicated.

I finally decided that I could just finish my post about the books I've read over the past quarter (by which I mean... eight months maybe? Ten?), but now I'm not so sure that I sent that one to my Gmail (I use Gmail now! Finally! It's kind of weird!). So I guess I can catch up with what I've been doing rather than going to work this week, which mainly involves already forgetting what day it is (I know now -- it's Tuesday, right? -- but only because the forgetting actually began as early as Saturday. If I'm not going to work or watching my stories, I'm pretty much unstuck in time) and eating soup and cookies. Seriously, if count a scone as a cookie and hot chocolate as halfway between soup and cookies, just about everything I've eaten since Sunday apart from a single fancy dinner with Marisa last night has been on the cookie-to-soup spectrum. I also met up with some mostly-former coworkers right near my office, which combined with my trip to the Megabus stop today equals two commutes to work on two days where I didn't actually go to work. Also, I haven't been remembering where anyone is or when anyone is going (to) there.

But soon my sister will be here, maybe we'll go eat some non-soup, non-cookies, maybe I'll see Rob and/or Derrick tonight and we can argue about the best albums of the year and/or decade. What I'm saying is, maybe more later, especially if Grandma's house has wireless. Happy some holidays, babies!

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wmetoile

04:16 pm - It's a Christmas miracle
Just a little Harlequin fail in case anyone is stuck at work today. So this book is due back on the 29th, and I brought it home, through a blizzard, in the hopes it would offer some distraction from the family if I need it. Except that the book heartily sucks. The heroine is a sanctimonious asshole, the hero is a poorly developed, boring stick in the mud, and the book as a whole is far too much about sheep. But then there's this:

Obviously the woodcrafter had a pretty good handle on Craig's personal life. Hadn't he cautioned Craig about the differences between hard wood and veneer?

And here Craig was, wanting hard wood all the way. Go figure.

BWAHAHA. Merry Christmas, everyone.
Current Location: Fairfax, VA
Current Mood:

bored
Current Music: Journey: Don't Stop Believin'

Tags: penis_euphemisms, romance_shmomance

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slightlyoffaxis

09:56 am - I Said Yes to a Dress
Behind a cut because boys find this type of thing boring: ( My search for a wedding dress. )

Tags: somebody's getting married

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December 21st, 2009

petit_chou

04:40 pm - Posted using TxtLJ
Disney World is great, but I just have one thing to say: OMFG DOLE WHIP!

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09:58 am - Ramble on
Here's an hour-long, enjoyably digressive podcast I did with Ken Plume.

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08:13 am
Good morning from my kitchen, where I am sitting literally four feet away from not one but TWO leftover half cakes: one amazing red velvet, and one double chocolate. And don't even get me started on the cheese straws, coffee ring, and Whole Foods chocolate cake in the fridge. Give me strength. I just got off the treadmill, but I think it might take a miracle for me not to dive headfirst into them while I drink my coffee.

Our party was great, but crazy hectic as always. This is, like, the twentieth year we've done this party, in various incarnations, and it's always changing. Used to be everyone came late and stayed later. Now, the announced time is 6 but people show up, babies in tow, as early as 5:30. Then it's total mayhem, toddlers and kids running wild while my husband and I try to be good hosts and get a huge amount of food onto the table for everyone. At eight sharp, half the room has cleared. By ten, the only ones left are our friends who are in their twenties, who probably don't even go OUT until that hour in their normal lives. I tried to rally, staying up until 12:30, then was really hating it when my daughter got up at 5:30. Whoa. All I want for Christmas is sleep, sleep and more sleep. Are you listening, Santa?

One of my favorite parts of the party, though, is the night after. That's when I get to put on my pajamas and eat leftovers, and this year we did it while watching equal opportunity television: football, followed by Love, Actually. Oh, man. Nothing like eating leftover lasagna, beans and rice and chicken casserole while watching Hugh Grant dance to the Pointer Sisters. Good times.

With the party behind us, I can move onto the actual holiday. I've done most of my shopping---although there's always a few more things to pick up---and with my office done (yay!) I can spend the time I'm not checking things off my list geeking out by labeling folders and organizing boxes. It is nerd heaven, I am telling you. All I need to do is get the internet working over there, and I'll be all set to officially move over. Although really, what I SHOULD do is not hook up the DSL, because I'd probably get a done more work done without the distractions of Twitter, and Ebay, and reading the comments on this blog. But let's be realistic here. Me with no internet is about as likely as me actually managing to resist that red velvet cake. Well intentioned, yes, but not going to happen.

Just one, small piece. A sliver! Because it's Christmas....

Have a great day, everyone!

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12:52 am - I blue myself
I have all of these end-of-year/end-of-decade posts I've been half-working on but I'm not sure how to square them with similarish posts that might go up at the L Mag blog or my PopMatters list entries, so for now I'll just do the weekend recap thing, especially because said weekend kicked off with Avatar in IMAX 3-D. Like Titanic, this movie only recently started to get hey-it's-actually-really-good buzz on the heels of lots of expensive-production rumblings, but we should not have been surprised: turning expensive, possibly troubled productions into mass-appeal hits is pretty much what James Cameron does for a living. I'm a little surprised that Avatar has garnered such strong reviews, not because it's not good -- I had tremendous fun and will likely go back for a second time (am I right, Saratoga sci-fi nerds who may or may not have seen it yet?!) -- but because it's earnest, dippy, sometimes a little on-the-nose (sometimes more than a little), and packed with archetypes and crazy special effects. In other words, like a Cameron movie, with a bit of a psychedelic hippie edge. I can definitely go with this, and the movie rewards your patience with amazing sights, a good (if simple) story, and a last-half-hour-or-so action climax as kickass as anything I can remember in modern sci-fi spectacle history.

Out of accordance with film-snob protocol, I actually really like Titanic, and nothing in Avatar has that emotional heft, as much as I dig the relationship between the fake ten-foot blue guy and the actual ten-foot blue girl played by Uhura from the new Star Trek. The sincerity of that relationship seems influenced by the innocent sentiment of Titanic, but Cameron's last biggest-movie-ever also seems to have given him the impression that he can use whatever time he needs for his movie. Avatar doesn't play long -- its 165 minutes or so pretty much zip by at a Cameronesque clip -- but if it's a question of whether he needed 165 minutes to tell this particular story, or whether that extra time is given over to additional character notes, or whether the extra time gives the movie more depth, the answer is pretty much no to any of that. It doesn't much matter; it is fun to spend a lot of time in the world of the movie, but it doesn't have the rocket-launcher pace of, say, The Dark Knight or Star Trek.

I saw Avatar with Marisa, Sara, and Nathaniel. In a bizarre twist of fate, we had far more people the next evening at the Ziegfeld for Nine. I know that this isn't so strange because Avatar tickets needed to be purchased over a week in advance and Nine, while crowded for the Ziegfeld, may not have sold out at all, but it's kind of amusing in that I think all four of us liked Avatar and I'm pretty sure that no one much liked Nine. Still, I don't usually have so much company at a lame movie. Maggie suggested making a theme night of it, so she and Kyle and Marisa and I and Kate and Nathaniel and Amanda and Rayme and Tim had Italian food beforehand and I got to see a bunch of people before they take off for various Christmas travels, as well as attempt to answer the trivia question: what five other movies besides Nine were based on stage musicals that were in turn based on non-musical films? Then we walked through the developing blizzard to meet Marie at the Ziegfeld and settle in for a night at the psuedo-theater with Nine.

I admit I was going with low expectations because Rob Marshall made Chicago which I found mildly entertaining at best, but Marshall sure doesn't go about the business of proving himself to me, or anyone. This sounds like a churlish thing to say about a guy who started as a choreographer and has made two star-studded movie musicals, but I'm not so sure that Marshall actually likes movie musicals very much, or makes an effort to understand them. So many of his decisions have to do with bizarre assumptions about the audience (or I guess maybe just really bad taste?): audiences don't like movies where people burst into song, so the songs (as in Chicago) have to take place in someone's head intercut with the action of the "real" world; audiences don't want to see anything outlandish or fantastical even in fantasies, so while the costumes and lightings can be fancy, the musical numbers should still basically take place on stage sets; audiences do expect movies to be cut fast and flashy, MTV style, so even though the footage is just of stage performances faced outward at a nonexistent audiences, it should be cut pretty fast. Unlike a lot of older critics, I'm not opposed to fast cutting in a musical (I will rarely say "but you can't see what the dancers are doing!" -- it's a movie, I'm not necessarily there to watch a dance routine), but it should be used for a reason, not as a way to fake a cinematic approach. Nine's musical numbers are cut more coherently than Chicago's, which only means that they look like a reasonably competent music video version of a stage performance: Marshall doesn't make the stagy mistake of fixing his camera on the performers like a play on film -- in fact, his camera moves almost constantly -- but he doesn't come up with many memorable images, either. Rather than understanding (or re-interpreting) the dynamics of music performance on film, he mashes together two different approaches, employing the worst of both.

This nitpicky stuff wouldn't matter so much if the underlying material worked, but Daniel Day-Lewis, watchable as he always is, may not be the right guy to play this artistically blocked womanizer character; he's only occasionally charming, and more often anguished, which just makes him seem like more of a jerk, rather than the complicated, flawed, but worthwhile man he's supposed to be. He's upstaged by pretty much every woman in the movie with significant screen time, and what enjoyment you can suck from Nine has to do with the actresses playing the women in his life, particularly Marion Cotillard (the wife), Penelope Cruz (the mistress), and Nicole Kidman (the muse). All of them have a musical number that I liked despite Marshall's unimaginative staging, and that I might've flat-out loved had they been integrated into the movie with any sense of style or daring. Besides all of these ladies being beautiful, I've found them delightful more often than not, so for those charms alone, this movie might be preferable to Chicago, or at least I can picture wanting to watch five or ten minutes of good parts again at some point, whereas I have no desire to see anything from Chicago again. But mostly Nine serves as a handy illustration of how to fuss and over-think your way out of making an entertaining musical.

On Saturday afternoon, I thought I was on my own as Marisa went out to shop for wedding dresses with her mom and sister, so I was trying to figure out which movie I was most in the mood to catch up with: Bright Star, Invictus, Me and Orson Welles, The Private Lives of Pippa Lee, Town Called Panic, The Messenger, or Armored. I wound up going with Armored because I heard good things from my L mag editor, only I also wound up not alone, because Marisa actually bought a wedding dress, so there, that's taken care of, and had most of her afternoon free.

For some reason, she was fine with hopping in on my Armored viewing even though we've both seen the trailer too many times to really want to see this, it not being directed by Scorsese and all. It is, however, directed by Nimrod Antal, who made the similar genre exercise Vacancy. Both movies do something simple, with limited locations, but do it quite well: Antal really knows what he's doing behind the camera, and excels at following characters into literal tight spots. The couple in Vacancy was stranded at a killer motel (you know, like you are in the horror-movie world), while the good guy in Armored at first gets stuck in a tight financial situation, and then in the back of an armored car as his fellow guards go a little off-book with a plan to rip off some sweet armored-car money. It doesn't add up to much and could probably be just as enjoyable on cable or something, but Armored does some nice, smoothly directed B-movie set-up and follow-through. I'm psyched to see what Antal does with the Predator sequel/whatever he's putting together under the watchful eye of Robert Rodriguez. Marisa was less enthusiastic, but maybe she was just tired from early-morning dress shopping slash victory.

Today we had holiday movie club and watched the Very Merry Muppet Christmas Movie that NBC aired a bunch of years ago, and also Mickey's Christmas Carol, and ate many types of cookies. I thought that betweten Avatar, pasta, and cookies, my cold would be vanquished, but it's still lingering a little. Hopefully when it realizes there's no work for me to miss anyway until next year, it'll scram.
Current Music: The Rentals - Friends Of P.

December 18th, 2009

08:35 am - The Friday Five!
1. Okay, so it's one week until Christmas (I know!) and get this: they're calling for snow here today. Yes: snow. Can I tell you the last time I remember it snowing before Christmas around here? That would be NEVER. (Although my memory is not reliable, just as a disclaimer. I can barely remember my name or where I left my keys most days.) Anyway, I refuse to believe this until I actually see flakes falling and sticking, mostly because we are having a huge holiday party this weekend and I have already bought all the food. What will I do with three lasagnas and a vat of spinach artichoke dip if the roads are bad and nobody shows? (Remember, this is North Carolina: if there is even an inch of snow on the roads, people stay home. Yes, I hear you laughing in New England.) Don't get me wrong. I would love a light dusting, to help get into the holiday spirit. But more than that, not so much.

2. And do you want to know WHY it's going to snow? Because about a week ago, we had a thunderstorm. And according to Southern legend, if it thunders in winter, you'll see snow within nine days. Or something like that. My parents are from New York and Baltimore, respectively: I wasn't exactly schooled in the Farmer's Almanac growing up. Still, I have found that a lot of these things turn out to be true. Like you see cows laying down before it rains. Weird, right?

3. Speaking of the holiday spirit, I can't believe that with only seven days until Christmas I have not yet indulged in one of my steadfast holiday traditions: watching Love, Actually. Usually by now I would have watched it at least three times, and have it in the DVD on standby so I can revisit my favorite scenes whenever the mood hits. What is wrong with me this year? Well, there's this move to my office. And the little issue of this novel I'm writing. Oh, and the fact that I have a two year old who is not really a fan of Hugh Grant yet. Can I tell you how many times I have watched the Gabba Gabba Christmas special? No, I can't, because I don't even know. But I will say that it is on right now, as I write this. Sigh.

4. I really do want to get to the movies over the holiday. It's hard to believe, but I used to go to the movies at least once a week, if not more than that. Seriously! I loved to skip out on a writing day and hit a midday matinee with a small buttered popcorn and a bottled water I snuck in inside my purse. Ah, memories. Can I tell you the last movie I saw in an actual movie theater? I think it was Sex and the City. Yes, that was like a year and a half ago. How did this happen? Well, again, there's that issue of the novel. It's a lot harder to play hooky when I'm paying someone else so I can work. But maybe I'll do it over the holiday, as a present to myself. We'll see.

5. Finally, I just have to share this. My husband just came inside, shivering. "It's REALLY cold out there!" he said, and I turned, ready to offer sympathy. Then I saw what he was wearing:

(Yes, I documented it just for this entry. But I cut off his head at his request.)

I mean, honestly. Shorts and a t-shirt AND shoes with no socks? Of course you're cold! Then again, this is the same person who runs the thermostat at a crazy high temperature so he can wear shorts in the house all year round. I grew up in a house where if you were cold, you put on another sweater. Touch the thermostat and there were repercussions, big time. Marriage is all about compromise, I guess. If not about wearing socks and a jacket when it's below freezing.

(Oh, and before you ask, yes, those are tattoos. He's got a bunch of them. And no, I don't have a single one. I always say he's got more than enough ink for both of us.)

Have a great weekend, everyone!

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December 16th, 2009

08:16 am
On Monday, my office passed final inspection. HOORAY! The cabinets still have to be finished, and the internet isn't up and running, but yesterday my desk got moved over, so it's all happening. (As they say in Almost Famous. I also love, "Does anyone remember laughter?" and "Your looks have become a problem!" Oh, don't get me started on quoting from that movie, I will go on all day.) I have to say, though, even though I am way excited, it's also a little daunting. The last book I wrote in my actual office was Lock and Key: Along For the Ride, and what I'm working on now, have all been done in either my daughter's room, while she slept downstairs, or our guest room. Glamourous, yes? It's like when we moved to this house from our old Durham farmhouse rental, where I wrote in a back room with brown carpet and wood paneling that resembled a cave. And I still had to write facing a wall so I wouldn't get distracted. Then we come here, where I have windows and this big airy space, and I was convinced I'd never get anything done. But I did.

That's the thing. Writing is a job you can do anywhere. Sure, it's nice to have all your creature comforts, and I think most authors have their superstitions and habits, ranging from working a certain time of day, every day (guilty) to what kind of music they listen to, or what they eat while they're writing. But if the last couple of years, and books, have taught me anything, it's that really, I don't need anything other than my laptop and time. The rest is just gravy. Nice gravy, but gravy. So even though it may be daunting to take my show on the road (or across the breezeway and up the stairs) I know eventually I will adjust. Although I might have to face the wall for awhile first.

Now that I'm starting to pack up, I'm realizing how much stuff I have accumulated in my office since we moved in here ten or so years ago. LOTS of books, mostly. Now, I know a lot of people consider books to be decor, and the more you have, the better. But I'm a big believer in passing books along to other people. If I like a book, I'll usually pass it around to my friends and family and then donate it to the library. But if I LOVE a book, I'll keep it and put it on my office shelf. It's like the best of the class, or something. Going through them this morning, you can see what I mean: lots of Anne Tyler, John Irving (three copies of A Prayer for Owen Meany, my favorite book ever) my personalized copies of novels by Lee Smith, Doris Betts and Jill McCorkle. I also have signed copies from Pat Conroy and Dave Eggers. Nice, right? Plus some of my favorite books about writing---Bird by Bird, What If, On Writing---and ones that were given to me as gifts that have personal meaning. In all, they only fill about one big bookshelf, which isn't much, I know. Then I have a smaller shelf of my own novels. It's not rooms and rooms worth of books, like the house I grew up in. But they are all mine.

Okay, I have to go pack up some more boxes. The hardest part, I swear? Not getting all caught up in the nostalgia, looking at every single thing as I pack it. I found a bunch of How to Deal lipglosses yesterday and got all misty! I am such a sap. Honestly.

Have a great day, everyone!

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December 15th, 2009

08:57 am - Question Time
After the jump, my responses to the ONTD Q&A.

(Cross-posted over there)

( Funny you should ask )

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08:20 am - Get your leather on
I went a little crazy with the album-buying this year, but not necessarily because this year was so bountiful (though I guess it was) and more because, at least by the end of the year, I kept looking for something else to love. I heard lots of decent records this year, but few of them figure into my best-slash-favorites-of-decade list.

Nonetheless, here is my annual list not of the best albums of the year, but all of the albums of the year, ranked. It's the size of a typical musical magazine best-of, but it encompasses every album I played this year. For the first time, I'll also be counting albums that I didn't buy, but heard a lot after ripping them from others. Now that I'm using the ipod regularly, copied albums are less of a novelty and more a part of my everyday listening (although purchased albums still maintain a greater urgency for whatever weird reason, probably because I feel like I have more of a relationship with music that I actually make a point of buying). Those non-purchased albums are noted below.

I heard enough records this year that I feel like it's important to note the ones I was interested in hearing, but haven't yet: Drug Rug's Paint the Fence Invisible; Annie's Don't Stop; Conor Oberst's Outer South; and even U2's No Line on the Horizon, because as disappointing as their recent output has been, I heard it was supposed to be a little more offbeat and less obvious. But I was never able to find a used copy at Permanent Records, and it'll probably be another few months before $2 copies turn up on half.com.

Hit it:

1. I'm Going Away by the Fiery Furnaces
As much as I like the Fiery Furnaces, I never really expected to call one of their records my album of the year. Though almost everything they've put out in the past few years (and they've maintained a near-annual rate of record releasing) has been tagged as more accessible than their usual, those statements turn out to be ridiculous about half the time or more, and I'm usually content to enjoy the best parts and skip some of the longer and/or more irritating diversions. But I'm Going Away really is that record where they act totally weird and like themselves, yet come up with songs that are stronger, catchier, and more concise than usual. This allows you to concentrate on their genuine eccentricity: I love Eleanor's weirdly Dylanesque enunciations, the way she trades and overlaps vocals with her brother Matthew, the way the guitar line soars into "The End is Near" or the way Eleanor overlaps with herself on "Keep Me in the Dark." It's a strange, beautiful, enormously fun record, my most compulsive listening of the year.

2. It's Blitz! by Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Fake punk, go dance: the title of It's Blitz! sounds like it signals a return to a raw Yeah Yeah Yeahs free-for-all, but the songs zig-zag into even more polished material than those on the excellent, hugely underrated Show Your Bones. Yet even with throbbing keyboards and far less guitar noise from Nick Zinner, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs sound has become so distinctive yet flexible that the music is unmistakably theirs: the slow rise of song-of-the-year candidate "Zero," which builds from spare electro-riff into noisy climax with impressive subtlety; the energy of "Dull Life"; the firm but lovely buzz of "Hysteric."

3. The Life of the World to Come by the Mountain Goats
For a singer-songwriter capable of summoning such (acoustic) brimstone and fury, it's perhaps a little surprising that only one of John Darnielle's songs on the new Biblically themed Mountain Goats record really goes fiery. Most of the rest are more hushed and plainspoken, with more piano than usual. Stylistically, it's probably most similar to Get Lonely, but not so wearying to listen to repeatedly. It doesn't rank with Darnielle's absolute best, but the hushed reflection (and rueful wit) draws you in as usual.

4. Grr... by Bishop Allen
Bishop Allen's third record isn't in the league of The Broken String; few records are, but even judged against their less ambitious work, Grr doesn't really match the energy or variety of Charm School. But a minor Bishop Allen album still has plenty of gems; some of them have just been polished down to a smaller size than necessary. This is a plinkier, cuter, simpler record than Broken String, and within those parameters lie several near-perfect indie-pop songs like "Dirt on Your New Shoes," "South China Moon," "True or False," and "Oklahoma." They're going back to the studio next year for a quick follow-up; as fun as Grr is, I think they know that they can do better.

5. Bitte Orca by Dirty Projectors
Critical cliche alert! This album has placed round about number five on just about everyone's list. Like the Fiery Furnaces, the Dirty Projectors have potential to be truly annoying, and the way they perch on the edge of irritation -- and sometimes, as on "Temecula Sunrise," fall into it -- makes for a more exciting listen. While a lot of my favorite records survive quite well when splintered into shuffled singles, Bitte Orca plays better together; it gets you in the mood for itself. One standout for any playlist: album centerpiece "Stillness is the Move," a cracked indie riff on R&B that's already been covered by Beyonce's little sister.

6. Yonder is the Clock by the Felice Brothers
There might not be a single song as terrific as "Frankie's Gun!" on the second Felice Brothers record, but it's a more refined, evenhanded, and satisfying whole than its predecessor. The ballads are more affecting, and I appreciate the several amusingly chicken-themed barnburners ("Chicken Wire" and "Run Chicken Run").

7. Middle Cyclone by Neko Case
A worthy companion to the similarly nature-shaded Fox Confessor Brings the Flood, Middle Cyclone finds Neko Case maintaining the peak songwriting she reached last time. The focus is less on her voice or the atmosphere (though both are wonderful) than the catchy evocations of what Werner Herzog calls "chaos and murder" on songs like "People Got a Lotta Nerve" and "This Tornado Loves You."

8. Break It Up by Jemina Pearl
Chick-biased Warped Tour enabler that I am, I really wanted to like Be Your Own Pet, and in the best moments from their first two records, I did -- but both records grow monotonous and same-sounding in a single sitting. Post-breakup, frontgal Jemina Pearl cut a solo record co-written largely with BYOP's drummer, and for some reason half the band comes up with far more melodic and varied songs while maintaining Pearl's distinctive, bratty punk sneer. There's still a lot of fast-paced kiss-offs like "Band On the Run" but the tempos shift for new-wavier and girl-groupier songs, like the danceworthy "Ecstatic Appeal."

9. Sainthood by Tegan & Sara
I've tried listening to Tegan & Sara before, and came to the conclusion that they hit upon the occasional amazing song like "Hop a Plane" or "Where Does the Good Go?" amidst a lot of fine but ignorable stuff. But I dig Sainthood, a more jagged, angular record than the sonically similar The Con, straight through. The harder production gives the songs a driven, urgent quality sometimes missing in the past -- melodrama honed into missiles.

10. Further Complications by Jarvis Cocker
The second Jarvis solo joint is less languid than his hit-and-miss debut -- roughness make a welcome comeback in both production and subject matter, and songs like "Leftovers" recall Pulp's sleazy glory while slower ballads like "Slush" echo the reflective moments from We Love Life as well as Jarvis. Writing for his real name rather than Pulp still leads to some weird lingering clumsiness, though. In the past, "I Never Said I Was Deep" would be a pithy, funny line in a better song; here, it's the song itself, and way too on-the-nose.

11. Together Through Life by Bob Dylan
Together Through Life finds Dylan in an old-timey mode not dissimilar to Love and Theft or Modern Times, only with accordion-heavy arrangements giving the songs a pleasantly dusty, south-of-the-border flavor. Though admittedly more minor than his unofficially trilogy of comeback records, the new record has a loose, warm vibe to it that I like nearly as much as the last few.

12. I and Love and You by the Avett Brothers
I was first introduced to the concept of the Avett Brothers as "like the Felice Brothers with more screaming." That description may more aptly describe the earlier albums that Derrick says are better, but so far, having heard Emotionalism and I and Love and You, they actually sound like the Felice Brothers with less screaming, or at least less weathered voices. That polish is fine, but sometimes the Avett voices are so clear and true that their dodgier, more awkward-sounding lyrics come through a little more vividly than they should. It doesn't matter when you're dealing with a song as beautiful as "I and Love and You" or "January Wedding," but once in awhile they sound like they need an editor, or a second draft or something. Rougher edges wouldn't hurt: when, on an up-tempo song like "Kick-Drum Heart," they do start to edge into screamier territory, the album catches fire.

13. The Pains of Being Pure at Heart by The Pains of Being Pure at Heart
There isn't a whole lot of variety to the Pains of Being Pure at Heart: the songs sound like each other, which is to say they all pretty much sound like the Jesus and Mary Chain and their indie-pop imitators like the Ravoenettes. But for some reason, the likes of "Young Adult Friction" and "This Love is Fucking Right!" escape from the narcotized drone that makes the Ravoeonettes so fun and sexy for about five minutes and so tedious at forty. You can put this record on and like it pretty much immediately, even if by the end you don't care much about when and if the next one is coming out.

14. Raditude by Weezer
I probably shouldn't put such a flawed record this high up, but in terms of songs that I know I will actually go back and listen to a lot, the newest Weezer album to be not even as good as Maladroit has four or five, which in this year of "cool sound, I like what they're doing, I forget which song is which" should not be discounted.

15. My Maudlin Career by Camera Obscura
Cool sound, I like what they're doing, I forget which song is which. OK, that's a half-truth: I remember "French Navy" and "The Sweetest Thing," and I remember enough of the rest to know that I prefer My Maudlin Career to Let's Get Out of the Country.

16. Merriweather Post Pavillion by Animal Collective
My not really getting the big deal about Animal Collective came to a sort-of end this year with Merriweather Post Pavillion, which at least makes me understand why people love them so much, even if they sound like a particularly savvy derivative of the Flaming Lips and the Beach Boys to me. Great songs dot this album, but like the Beach Boys, all of the high pitched la-di-da gets a little tiring after awhile. Still, in the right mood, this is a lot of fun, and I'll listen to "Sumemrtime Clothes" just about any day, any season.

17. Embryonic by the Flaming Lips
It's not that this new Flaming Lips record doesn't have the boring or noodly points that have been a staple of the band since Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, and it's not that it has big, embraceable pop songs as on the best of Yoshimi or pretty much all of The Soft Bulletin. But it makes up for the presence of the former and the lack of the latter through sheer noisy weirdness; if the Lips are going to do the drug-damaged hippie act, at least they're committing to it with some genuinely challenging sounds.

18. Monsters of Folk by Monsters of Folk
As far as I'm concerned, Jim James is the odd man out when placed with M. Ward, Conor Oberst, and Mike Mogis. Yet the Monsters of Folk songs that grab me most immediately tend to belong to the dude from My Morning Jacket; for whatever reason, he seems to raise his game with these boys, while Conor and M. Ward are really just doing good work in their comfort zones.

19. Art Brut vs. Satan by Art Brut
Look, there are limited differences between Art Brut albums, of which there are now, improbably, three, just a few years after they formed a band and "Formed a Band." As a bunch of additional songs for Art Brut to mix into their amusing, energetic live shows, Art Brut vs. Satan does the job. As its own album, it's a little repetitive and speak-singy even for this band, and reverses some of the development found on It's a Bit Complicated -- I like pretty much all of the songs but rarely want to listen to them all in a row.

20. Actor by St. Vincent
When I put this album on, it tends to fade into the background a little, possibly because I've listened to it a disproportionate number of times while working, possibly because it sometimes sounds like Bjork lite, but once in awhile my ears will perk up and I'll love the spooky prettiness of it all, or the drum-heavy "Actor out of Work."

21. The Hazards of Love by the Decemberists (thanks Marisa!)
Most of the criticisms of this album to me read as "I wish they had not made an album like this," which is not really the same as it not being good. It's certainly not my favorite Decemberists record (that's probably The Crane Wife, even with the proggier overtones that get turned up here), but as a piece of deranged Decemberists performance art, it has its share of great moments.

22. 21st Century Breakdown by Green Day
In terms of songcraft and musical adventurousness, Green Day's new punk-opera pretty much matches American Idiot; diminished excitement can be attributed largely to the fact that this is their second musically adventurous punk-opera in a row, and that their storytelling remains ever vague. As with Idiot, the best songs (I'm especially partial to "Last of the American Girls") can't match the band's best singles from their pre-pomp years, but then Green Day's best singles can kick a lot of bands' asses.

23. Working on a Dream by Bruce Springsteen
The usual classic-rock hype run-up to the release of Working on a Dream created what turned out to be my year of Springsteen: I went from owning token copies of Nebraska and Born to Run to owning most of his output, including this sorta-sequel to Magic. The chiming Phil Spector-y production remains, but the songs themselves have less heft. Sometimes this isn't so bad, as with the unadorned "Tomorrow Never Knows" (no relation to the Beatles song) or the epic and enjoyably silly "Outlaw Pete."

24. Amanda Leigh by Mandy Moore
Mandy Moore keeps inching toward respectability, doing work good enough to warrant regular "she's not just a pop tart anymore!" articles but not quite as strong as it could be. Amanda Leigh is her best record so far, anchored by the actually semi-incongruous but completely delightful "I Could Break Your Heart Any Day of the Week," her best song ever. You can hear producer/cowriter Mike Viola on that song, and some others, and although Amanda Leigh is more fun than the somber-AC-folk of Wild Hope, it's not completely removed from that realm, either. There's some diversity, though, with the Broadwayish "Pocket Philosopher" and the faster-paced "Fern Dell."

25. Everything Goes Wrong by Vivian Girls
Pretty much more of the same, but in a good way, for now.

26. Hold Time by M. Ward (thanks Marisa!)
M. Ward's place on my music shelf, metaphorical or otherwise, mirrors how I've experienced him in person: as the opening act for Rilo Kiley, or the slightly less beguiling half of She & Him. He makes consistent, warm, enjoyable, dusky albums that I couldn't really begin to differentiate between.

27. Wilco (The Album) by Wilco (thanks Briana!)
The common criticism of Wilco as "dad rock" is pretty appalling to me, a kind of indie-snot update of "don't trust anyone over thirty!" or, more likely, "don't trust anyone older than however old I happen to be!" I also read a couple of profiles of Jeff Tweedy this year, speaking about the silly idea that artists should be as tortured and unhappy as possible for their art, which I'm sure solidified Wilco's older, mellower, vaguely unhip rep among the indier-than-thou but made me respect him a lot. That said, Wilco is sort of hit-and-miss for me; they are often a little more mellow than I really need, but I wouldn't slough them off for not being cutting-edge punk revolutionaries or something. Wilco (The Album) picks up as it goes (apart from the extremely appealing "Wilo (The Song)" that kicks it off), and its second half has a number of strong tracks, including "You Never Know" and the lovely Feist duet "You and I." There's something to be said for new, good music that your parents might like.

28. A Positive Rage by the Hold Steady
Clearly, I love every song on this record, but it's a live album that captures the energy (and hoarseness) of the Hold Steady live experience without really adding much to the songs. What's added in person is volume and sweat; on record, just some keyboard flourishes and a few mid-song Craig Finn anecdotes. I'm glad I have this, but I listen to it mainly to change it up from the studio versions I've heard thousands of times by now.

29. It's Not Me, It's You by Lily Allen
I like Lily Allen's personality and voice (both literally and metaphorically) and when her songs are really humming, as on "The Fear" or the quieter "Chinese" and "Who'd Have Known," they fulfill her pop-star promise. But her more earnestly soul-searching and/or commentary-providing material can be near-appalling, and there's a lot more of that stuff on her second record. Put together the best material from Alright, Still and It's Not Me, It's You and you'd have one of the most purely fun albums of whatever year; separated and padded with dippy musings like "Him" and "Everyone's At It," you've got an okay record with great moments.

30. There Is No Enemy by Built to Spill
Every few years, Built to Spill releases a new record; it gets good reviews; I dutifully buy it within a few days of its release; I play it, hoping perhaps foolishly for something in the vein of There's Nothing Wrong with Love or Keep It Like a Secret; and I get something perfectly acceptable, a little workmanlike, with a few highlights as well as several songs that sound sleepy and jammy. The lengths of the jams fluctuates; Ancient Melodies of the Future has concise boring songs, while You in Reverse stretches them out, and There Is No Enemy falls more in the middle. The nature of the highlights changes, too: sometimes it's a lovely acoustic ballad like "The Weather" off of Ancient Melodies, sometimes it's something fierce and bracing like "Pat" off of Enemy. But my interest always flags, and I feel bad about it, and hopeful that I'll enjoy the next one a little more. Built to Spill's consistency is admirable and I'm not stumping for pure three-minute pop songs; "Conventional Wisdom" (from Reverse) is one of their recent best, and it runs six or seven minutes. But you may have noticed I'm writing as much about their two previous albums as I am about this one, because they all blend together after awhile, which shouldn't happen if you're capable of making There's Nothing Wrong with Love.

31. Jigsaw by Lady Sovereign
I wanted this to share a bratty-brit slot with the Lily Allen record, but I'm forced to admit that as much as I love Sov, this record is just a little weaker -- weaker than Lily's and weaker than Sov's debut. It has some fun cuts like the Cure-biting "So Human" and the typically cheeky "Student Union" and "I Got You Dancing," but like It's Not You, It's Me, this feels more like a rerun of the last record's strengths and weaknesses, with a few more weaknesses this time around.

32. God Help the Girl
I was slow to warm to this Stuart Murdoch-driven soundtrack to a movie that hasn't been made yet (not least because of that wonky premise for an album; apparently a soundtrack to a hypothetical movie is a more pressing matter than a new album from actual real-life band Belle and Sebastian), and I'm still not particularly enamored of the soul-lady versions of B&S songs like "Funny Little Frog." But I can appreciate Murdoch having actual (and mostly unknown) girls sing his patented indie-girl-POV songs, although there's no real reason this couldn't happen on a proper B&S record boosted by top-tier material.

33. Here Comes Science by They Might Be Giants
I have Here Come the ABCs, too, but thought this would be more up my alley, as ABCs is sort of like Legoland: quite wonderful, but clearly aimed at young children (and it doesn't have the Legoland advantage of fulfilling my childhood dream). Science does have more replay value for non-toddlers, but considering how well TMBG has done with science songs in the past, this slightly older-skewing album is a little disappointing. Not because the songs aren't fun, but because about half of them are just semi-tuneful explanations of what stuff is, sort of like Apollo 18's "Mammal," and part of the charm of "Mammal" is its novelty, which diminishes here on somewhat rote, underwritten songs like "Cells" and "Photosynthesis." Some of the catchiest moments come with neither John sings lead: Flansburgh's wife takes lead on the horn-laden "Electric Car," bassist Danny Weinkauf sings the jaunty "I Am a Paleontologist," and drummer Marty Beller does a decent eighties-style "Speed and Velocity." Other highlights are songs that have existed for awhile, like "The Bloodmobile" and of course "Why Does the Sun Shine?" (now accompanied by a more scientifically accurate "Why Does the Sun Really Shine?").

34. The Mountain by Heartless Bastards
Another record where I like the general sound but couldn't really hum a particular song from the album, though they're all surprisingly familiar-sounding when I actually do listen to it.

35. War Child – Heroes Vol. 1
This is a charity compilation album from which I really only listen to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs doing "Sheena is a Punk Rocker" and the Hold Steady doing "Atlantic City" with the occasional side of Franz Ferdinand doing "Call Me," TV on the Radio doing "Heroes," or even, yikes, Duffy doing "Live or Let Die" (I attribute this to my not having bothered to download the real "Live and Let Die" or even the GnR "Live and Let Die"). However: I listen to the "Sheena" and "Atlantic" covers a LOT, so I guess this was more than worth than four-dollar download.

36. Incredibad by the Lonely Island (thanks Nathaniel!)
As musical-comedy records go, this does actually have some replay value; I won't embarrass myself by trying to count the number of times I've listened to "Like a Boss" on my ipod. But just as many songs, predictably, play better in video form (like "Space Olympocs") or are funnier when bleeped to the point of near-incomprehension (certain lines from the Natalie Portman rap).

37. Mt. St. Helens Vietnam Band by Mt. St. Helens Vietnam Band
Sometimes I see an opening band live and really like them, but when I hear the record, it doesn't click as immediately for whatever reason. That's what happened with Mt. St. Helens Vietnam Band, who I liked as an opener for Bishop Allen but whose album doesn't strike me as all the way there yet, though it's not bad.

38. Let the Dominoes Fall by Rancid (thanks Marisa!)
When Marisa bought the new Rancid album, I took that and all of the other Rancid albums she already had and threw them into my iTunes, and after my first few listens of Let the Dominoes Fall I was content to keep a dozen or so Rancid tunes from throughout their career on my ipod to surprise me during shuffle sessions. From the new record, "Last Ones to Die" stands out, as does the extremely ska-tastic "Up to No Good" (not to be confused with some band called Skatastic that I assume exists, or used to).

39. Backspacer by Pearl Jam (thanks dude in Marisa's office!)
I don't know what to do about Pearl Jam. I always think that I really like them. Back in '94, I loved Vitalogy, championed it as their best and more interesting album, and stuck around for No Code, the low-key follow up that disappointed a lot of their thicker fans. I stopped getting their records for awhile there, but everytime I heard something from Yield or Binaural I'd think it sounded pretty good and just assumed Pearl Jam was humming along, churning out solid but unremarkable albums. Then when their self-titled record was hyped as a major return, best since Vitalogy, etc., I got excited and bought it, and it wasn't all that good. Then when their self-released record was hyped as a major return, best since Vitalogy, etc., I got excited and thought about buying it and listened to it, and it wasn't all that good. The first three or four songs are some of the fastest/punkiest songs Pearl Jam has ever done, and they're quite enjoyable, which puts this record a notch or two above the self-titled. But after that, most of the rest of Backspacer feels really uninspired, to the point where I'm wondering if Pearl Jam is actually getting worse, sort of the way Oasis got worse: by sounding uninspired so consistently that you wonder if they should hang it up, or start releasing albums every five or six years, which would presumably be enough time to build up a decent group of ten or twelve.

40. 200 Million Thousand by the Black Lips
I liked the last Black Lips album well enough, so when I read that the new one goes further in a more accessible direction, I figured I'd probably like it too, and bought a used copy. I don't know if it's just my mood, though, or what, but I mostly find it annoying.

Baker's Dozen of Commemorative Mixtape Keepers 2009:
"Zero" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs
"(If You're Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To" by Weezer
"I Could Break Your Heart Any Day of the Week" by Mandy Moore
"Stillness is the Move" by Dirty Projectors
"I and Love and You" by the Avett Brothers
"True or False" by Bishop Allen
"People Got a Lotta Nerve" by Neko Case
"Summertime Clothes" by Animal Collective
"My Life Would Suck Without You" by Kelly Clarkson
"Penn Station" by the Felice Brothers
"Ecstatic Appeal" by Jemina Pearl
"So Human" by Lady Sovereign
"The Fear" by Lily Allen

I probably say this every year, but next year looks tight. In January alone, there will be new records from Vampire Weekend, OK Go, Los Campesinos! and Spoon, and March adds Titus Andronicus and She & Him. The New Pornographers, They Might Be Giants, and Bishop Allen again sound pretty likely, too, plus maybe Belle and Sebastian and the National. Non-ridiculous wishlist: the Hold Steady, Arcade Fire, the White Stripes.

Tags: album round-ups, bishop allen, fiery furnaces, jarvis, mandy moore, mountain goats, my years in lists, neko case, weezer, yeah yeah yeahs

December 14th, 2009

07:54 am
Okay, so, not to alarm you or anything, but there are only ELEVEN days left until Christmas. Holy pajamas! I thought I had, like, much more time. Better get cracking.

In other news, I debated this morning whether I should even discuss the fact that I caught a couple of episodes of Jersey Shore on MTV this weekend. Why? Because a show like this is so completely over the top that you really need to watch about ten hours of Masterpiece Theatre to atone for it. I know there's been a lot of reaction to this show, especially from the Italian-American community, claiming it is full of stereotypes. And, well...it is. These people are SO overblown and exaggerated, it's like they aren't even real. I know people from New Jersey, and they are not like this. But it's MTV. People have figured out that in order to be on these shows, you need to be a "character," not just a person. And I know that if they were filming a show about NC and looking for Southerners, they'd probably pick the most Yee-hawing, tractor-driving folks they could find. But, seriously. I think, stereotypes aside, I am too old to be watching any show like this, about people in their twenties. When The Situation (and that's what he calls himself, I am not even joking) got pink eye, all I could think was that it was probably from the hot tub, which most likely needed to be disinfected. Yes, I am a mom. It's official now.

(It has just been pointed out to me that The Situation did not, in fact, get pink eye. That was Vinny. I stand corrected.)

(On a related note, The Situation, as a nickname, has become a running joke around here. My husband has decided I should be called The Complication. I personally like The Aberration. I could go on and on.....)

The rest of the weekend I spent indulging my office supply obsession, which was just entirely too much fun. (Again: geek.) My office is almost finished---I might actually get to move in before the new year!---so I had an excuse to hit Staples, which is always a great thing. Only fellow office geeks will appreciate the fact that I am having to transition from my regular file folders (manilla, letter size, tabbed) to hanging folders in my new cabinets. Confession: I don't like hanging folders. I feel that things fall out the sides. It's like a Pepsi or Coke thing among us office supply people: you either like one or the other, it's all personal preference. But I can adjust, right? On the plus side, I have an excuse to use my label maker, which is, like, the most fun thing ever.

*reads over entry*

Between Jersey Shore confessions and my labelmaker, I am NOT coming off well here today. Quick! Let me talk about something that makes me look cool, stat!

*thinks*

I got nothing. Oh, well.....

Have a great day, everyone!

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December 13th, 2009

11:34 pm - How are you feline this evening?
I have some reviews that should be going up this week regarding a couple of comedies that haven't reached very wide release. Mystery Team, which is playing through this Thursday at the Quad Cinema in Manhattan, is the more hilarious and obscure of the two, from Derrick Comedy. Even if you're not familiar with Derrick (and I wasn't, really, beyond that they were some kind of sketch troupe with an internet presence), you'll recognize a variety of faces in the movie from NBC's Thursday night lineup (think of how nightmarish that description might sound for a comedy in, say, 1997 or so). Donad Glover, an actual troupe member, plays Troy on Community, and at least one current cast member from each of Community's Thursday neighbors makes an appearance. The movie is about a group of boy detectives grown up, about to graduate from high school and trying to prove themselves crime-solvers. It's very low budget, but I haven't laughed this hard at a movie maybe all year; among outright comedies, I might prefer Adventureland and Funny People as movies for their character work, but they didn't make me laugh as heartily as Mystery Team. It's just really damn funny and people should seek it out.

The Slammin' Salmon is in slightly wider release in major cities throughout the country, from the somewhat better-known entity Broken Lizard. I'll have a review soon for PopMatters, where I reviewed previous Broken Lizard features Beerfest and Club Dread. Salmon is about in that league, which is to say not as inspired as Super Troopers but consistently amusing.

Marisa and I also went to see Brothers, not so much because it looked all that great but because we both like Natalie Portman, Jake Gyllenhaal, and Tobey Maguire to varying degrees. The movie bears that out: it's not great, and sometimes it'd downright workmanlike, but I found it (mildly) worthwhile due to the performances. Maguire has the showiest part as the presumed-dead and mentally scarred marine, but I was just as impressed with Gyllenhaal playing Maguire's ne'er-do-well brother. Brothers is affecting and involving as far as it goes, but Jim Sheridan, who is usually a pretty assured filmmaker, doesn't pull it together the fine performances and decent (if somewhat schematic) story -- the movie is pretty much exactly the sum of its parts.

Today I had brunch with Blackout writers Tim, Aisha, and Marie, and then Tim and Marie and I met Marisa in Times Square to see The Road, and unlike the trip to see Fantastic Mr. Fox (or pretty much any movie based on a non-Harry Potter book), our little group was rocking a read-the-book rate of one hundred percent. The movie version of The Road reminded me of the Time Traveler's Wife adaptation in that it's a pretty well-made, well-cast, non-embarrassing version of an excellent book that is nonetheless also a weaker version of that same material. I actually probably have more goodwill towards the Time Traveler's Wife because I was way more afraid of that one being awful based on the trailers, while The Road is pretty much just what it looks like from the trailers -- just rarely anything more. It's quite faithful, but almost none of the minor tinkering that goes on is particularly interesting, or for the better (well, maybe the Charlize Theron flashbacks, which are true to the book but a little more fleshed out into full scenes, rather than the fragments we get on the page). For example, the filmmakers try to replicate Cormac McCarthy's spare third-person prose with some spare first-person narration, but replacing spare prose with even minimal narration hardly ever has the same effect, because movies can tell stories without words -- so rarely is narration going to seem spare when it's layered on top of images that already do the job. It's not a travesty of a movie; it just doesn't have much to do besides reshuffle the pre-existing material.

In summary: after several weeks' worth of end-of-year movie catch-up, it's not The Road or Brothers that figured into my vote-casting for year-end polls due tomorrow, but Mystery Team. I'm hoping that Avatar will make those votes just a little bit obsolete come Friday, but apart from that, I feel pretty much done with the year despite not yet seeing Invictus, Nine, or The Lovely Bones. Bring on January, I'm ready for Legion!

08:30 pm - Venture Brothers: Pinstripes & Poltergeists

Last episode of the first half of Season Four tonight at midnight. Season Four back eight premieres in the spring. Got it?

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slightlyoffaxis

09:50 pm - Christmastime Is Here Again
The Christmas cheer rolls on, with Christmas preparations in full-force this weekend.

*I went to a Christmas Spectacular. No, not the one in Radio City. It was at a very fancy restaurant up by me, and they were doing these events where on weekends they have a cocktail party, serve a three-course dinner, and put on a Christmas revue. It was an old-timey revue, too, complete with costume changes and cocktail dresses and topical one-liners. It ended with a singalong version of the "12 Days of Christmas" where each table was assigned a different day. I learned that I find those things amusing for a half an hour, and this one was more like twice that. But my swordfish was amazing, and the dessert will knock the sugarplums out of the visions in my head.

*Christmas cards are finally in the mailbox waiting to be picked up. It was a multi-day, multi-step process, but I'm happy that they will be delivered in time for Christmas. Also, glitter is everywhere, which is a bit of a puzzle considering we didn't buy glittery cards this year.

*I am about 90% done with my gift shopping. It bothers me to no end that I'm not 100% done. I'm usually finished by now, but for some reason I just wasn't on the ball this year, and it's getting down to the wire!

*I also have plans to watch Muppets. Muppets are great every time of year (duh), but especially around Christmas because sometimes they wear sweaters, which is the funniest thing ever. (I haven't seen the special we plan on watching, so I am not guaranteed the sweaters, but I'm sure whatever it is will be pretty great.)

So, things are moving along nicely. Now, if only finding a caterer were as easy now that I'm back in the market for one. Christmas is great, but it's a horrible time to try and get in touch with caterers!

Tags: christmas, holidays, somebody's getting married

December 12th, 2009

10:50 am - Ask Skeeves
I've cracked the big time.

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02:01 am - Making every single unreasonable demand
So I did not originally intend to go see the Fiery Furnaces again this year. As much as I love them (which is to say more than almost anyone I know and less than I love at least fifteen other bands working today), they are not a live experience that demands, drug-like repeat hits. I'm happy to see them once per album, and that's assuming they continue to make albums as good as I'm Going Away, which is a faulty assumption.

But then Marisa told me that she was going to a work thing on a Friday, December 11th, and I was trying to figure out why December 11th was sticking out in my head, and it wasn't because I was shaking with excitement over the opening of either The Lovely Bones or Invictus. Eventually I figured out: the Fiery Furnaces were playing the Music Hall of Williamsburg. If ever there was a sign that I should go to a Fiery Furnaces show, it is Marisa being busy without me on the same night.

Drawing from an extremely limited pool of people I know who even kinda like the Fiery Furnaces, much less actively like them, I remembered that Shelly, former upstate resident and ex-girlfriend of my good friend Jason S. Forman, had mentioned liking them, and she agreed to go with me.

Here's what I think they played:

Rub-Alcohol Blues
Charmaine Champagne
Duplexes of the Dead
Automatic Husband
Ex-Guru
Chris Michaels*
The End is Near
Keep Me in the Dark
Up in the North
Cut the Cake
Ray Bouvier
Japanese Sleepers
Evergreen
Staring at the Steeple
Navy Nurse
Worry Worry
---
Two Fat Feet
I'm In No Mood
Asthma Attack
Tropical Ice-Land
Here Comes the Summer

*I'm pretty sure this was a song from Blueberry Boat, but coming home and listening to some of the longer and less instrumental songs to figure out which one it was has yielded nothing. I'm going with "Chris Michaels" because it seems to be on a lot of their recent setlists. And also because nobody cares anyway.

It's even harder to tell because the Fiery Furnaces thing is to play some/many songs different live, which as I've mentioned, can be a boon for songs I don't like so much on their records, and can be a pain for songs that I love just the way they are. But many of the reinterpretations fall into a third category: versions that aren't necessarily better than the originals, but are interesting and satisfying in their own right. Most Fiery Furnaces show are split pretty evenly between those three categories, although I have to say, this one only had a few points tonight where I got annoyed with the way Matthew Friedberger plays guitar, not especially well, to sub in for the keyboard-mashing that's the worst part of their records (and almost completely absent from I'm Going Away). In the current three-piece configuration (not counting Eleanor's voice as a piece), the changes tend to make the songs a little fiercer: Prettier songs like "Here Comes the Summer" and "Evergreen" became a little more punk, and "Staring at the Steeple" had a couple of moments that almost sounded like Sabbath. I wouldn't mind a few moments of respite, like a couple of songs done with acoustic guitars or a piano, but maybe that's just residual enjoyment of that Mountain Goats show.

In the L Magazine listing for this show, they said something to the effect of: the fact that Matthew Friedberger [extremely awkwardly and stupidly] mouthing off about Radiohead doesn't get this band shunned by indie music fans indicates their strong following... but I don't know, man. I don't know if I've ever heard of a Fiery Furnaces show selling out, and if they can't sell out shows in Brooklyn (like Bishop Allen, I have only ever seen the Fiery Furnaces in Brooklyn), where are they selling out shows? Even the Music Hall of Williamsburg Twitter feed, which usually notes "still a few tickets left" day-of to encourage advance purchasing for even the most obscure shows, was pretty much like: "Fiery Furnaces tonight. Tickets available."

Indeed, this was one of the least crowded shows I've ever seen at MHOW, and the crowd was kind of weird, patchy and antsy. At a few points it looked sort of like a scene-y version of the non-VIP backstage area Wayne and Garth get trapped in at the beginning of Wayne's World 2. But my old bones appreciated a show where I could hang out downstairs for an hour ignoring the opening bands -- really, I'm starting to feel like I'm a little ungrateful, since opening bands did yield my love for Lincoln, Palomar, the National, and OK Go, among others -- and then walk up and get a non-crushed spot on the side, where I could even lean against something if I wanted.

Anyway, it was a pretty fun show, even if no one likes the Fiery Furnaces except me and Shelly. More leaning for me, suckers!

Tags: fiery furnaces, rock shows