Can I Live

Sample Pictures

Thesis

I'm already hours behind on my reading. But when today was as nice as it was, I can't help but forgive myself for being irresponsible about school work. Besides, it's still summer! I mean: today I watched an iridescent butterfly flutter in the morning sun while I ate an apple and cooled off in the late-August breeze. How could I work today after living that?

Last Day Of Summer

> Took an early morning walk

> Watched television's best show, Louie

> Attended a fantasy football draft

> Watched Cowboy Bebop with my friends

> Tried to make music with Zech, but ended up eating a burrito and bike riding

> Walked around with E.swee and Andy

> Watched the sunset on a porch with people I love

Great News, Everyone!

Both Grouper and Lil B released new music today, and both releases are phenomenal. Grouper's Water People 7" is on another level (as per usual). Lil B's I Forgive You is delightful for being completely unexpected.

Fitting that I spend the last moments of summer digesting music from these two phenomenal artists, as their work more than any other's soundtracked my spring semester. Let's be honest, I'm getting into that back-to-school mentality.

Summer Music Review 08

This is certainly not the bang with which I planned to end my Summer Review series, but maybe it's for the best that I don't heavily involve myself in art criticism when I should be sleeping.

Tha Carter IV [2011]

by Lil Wayne

[YMCMB]

This review will be short and sour.

When Weezy was in prison, rumors of Tha Carter IV had me excited for what promised to be a return-to-form, statement-making, MBDTF-level comeback record. "6 Foot 7 Foot" was exactly the ear-grabbing single to celebrate Wayne's freedom and rediscovered ability as a wordsmith. The song is absurd, breakneck, and dense. It's everything I wanted and didn't get from Tha Carter IV.

Excepting the singles and a few other songs ("Megaman"; "How To Hate"), the album just sounds flat. The verses and production are unmemorable. There are none of the surprising musical detours that made Tha Carter III such a fun and rewarding listen. I figured Weezy F would be pouring himself into the entire record with all the passion and drive that seemingly went into "6 Foot 7 Foot."

I was wrong. Maybe I was too concerned with a comeback narrative, and not enough with the fact that he's releasing music again. Wayne does sound happy to be out of jail, but not at all eager to prove himself once more as a great rapper. Hard to blame him for being content. It's just too bad his contentedness resulted in an undemanding, lethargic record.

gg

Hard to say goodbye to two best friends in two weeks. Ted, you beautiful nerd, not sure how I'mma make it without you. Thanks for all the Ted talks and all the toons. Have fun in .jp

Conclusions

I'm not tryna make y'all jealous, but I only have one class tomorrow. And it's at 1 o'clock. Not too worried about it, but the beginning of fall semester is certainly something to give me pause. Will I be able to motivate myself? Will the classes be too much? Will I actually get sleep this year? That I began this blog at 11 PM and not 4 AM is a good indicator of what I hope my sleep schedule will look like. On that note: goodnight, fam.

PON PON PON

How To Live Here

O / the feeling

Thesis

Sometimes I listen to Drake and read through a month's worth of my own tweets, reaffirming my long-held belief that I'm the best. Sometimes Twin Peaks makes me forget about nonfiction problems. Sometimes this new apartment already feels like home, even though there's nothing on the walls.

#GreatBandNames

It's never easy saying goodbye to Rozay before she heads west to her other B-town. But it must be done.

Apartment #10

I'm thoroughly in downtown Bloomington mode, listening to Good Luck and watching bros walk my neighborhood streets. Though I've lived here my whole life, the place takes on a different vibe from this perspective. I feel in the middle of everything. It's starting to seem less like vacation and more like real life, which for some reason makes it harder to wash the dishes. Even so, I couldn't be happier with what's going on right now.

Conclusions

This was a short, sober post. Which makes sense: tonight was the first sober night I've spent in this apartment (lol summer). Tomorrow I look forward to a new couch and hella chilling. Maybe watch more Twin Peaks, probably spend more money at the Salvation Army, definitely eat more peanut butter and jam for lunch. Take it easy, fam. I know I will.

So Proud Of Twin Sister (they r gon blow up)

The Big Day

Can you believe it?

Thesis

So, it's 4 AM (again). I'm moving out of my childhood home and into the first real place of my own. A place with no staff to cook my meals or clean the bathroom. Of course this is terrifying, but it's also among the more exhilarating Changes I've undergone. I doubt tomorrow will be very memorable. It'll mostly be aggravating, what with lifting heavy objects in the late-August heat and struggling with the (small, so small) size of the apartment. Oh well! We can sip it all away with an easygoing wine dinner. What more, we can dream it all away in brand new bedrooms. Can you believe it? Though this isn't a giant leap for mankind, it is a step in the right direction for some sort of self-sustaining version of myself.

On my own

Not me. Dallhaus, the most loyal of friends, will be right at my side. We're moving ourselves in (working parents, fam), and we're still working on a name for the place

> New York City
> The Bishop
> Bag End

> The Birthday Party

It'll have a jungle-themed bathroom and several globes. It'll have two well-adjusted residents. It'll have a clean kitchen and plenty of lamps. It'll have room enough for the two of us. Just the two of us, he and I.

Summer Music Review 07

Well yeah, I'm totally preoccupied with the insecurities I have about moving my life from one place to the other. And I'm in a totally "Marvins Room" mentality. But something tells me it's time to review that blockbuster record you should have already downloaded.

Watch The Throne [2011]

by Jay-Z & Kanye West

(Roc-A-Fella; Roc Nation; Def Jam)

Cash-grabbing partnership with a living rap legend? Throwing thousands in the air for an Otis Redding sample? Beyonce and Frank Ocean singing the hooks? Funky accordion waltz outro to nearly every song? A shameless Blades Of Glory clip interrupting an otherwise stellar track?

This is what you call a victory lap.

If anyone deserved it, it's Yeezy. After the endlessly rewarding and self-effacing artistry of MBDTF (an album so Big it's instantly recognizable by its acronym), he's earned the right to just have plain old fun with Jay-Z. I mean, seriously, what more can they say than, "Jay is chilling/Ye is chilling." This is not a deep album. This is not an emotional masterpiece. In fact, almost every song is a simple, ostentatious exclamation of the duo's absurd wealth. There's the occasional, shallow commentary on blackness in America, but any sort of insight is flat-out invalidated by "other other Benz." Well, not invalidated, but made moot - because: Jay-Z & Kanye West. Because these two stars actually made This Album (presumably in luxury suites across the globe).

And This Album is great. Great fun. Listen to the instrumental drop out and charge back at you before Kanye's breathtaking first lines of the record: "Coke on her black skin made her striped like a zebra/I call that jungle fever." Listen to the raging, brostep synths of "Who Gon Stop Me." Listen to the string section finale of "Why I Love You." This is the kind of music that elevates. Makes you feel ecstatic, huge. Who cares that "Welcome To The Jungle" is pretty forgettable or that "Made In America" quotes Ricky Bobby? How can you deny the accessibility of this music?

There's no grand statement to be made here. No pretensions. No dark or twisted. It's just two of the most celebrated artists of our time rapping over big budget, grandstanding, stadium rock levels of holy shit production. Pure fantasy.

"Marvins Room"

Let me take a sentence to say: probably the Best Song Of 2011.

Conclusions

This was a more well-rounded post than my past few, in the sense that it talked about my personal life as much as it did music. As I've said before, this is Not A Music Blog. I just love music with all my heart and more. I love music in a better way than I can love my friends. Even so, I can't wait to open up my life to this co-written chapter.

Aforementioned Best Song Of 2011

Magic Hour

In My Zone

Thesis

If you haven't ordered books for class or packed for your big move, 1:45 AM is not at all the time to begin. You should instead blog and think about sleeping. Or think about the summer you've had. It was my most Based and maybe even best summer. I've certainly smiled a lot. It's putting an excited and nervous smile on my face right now to think that my next blog will be posted from a new home.

Summer Music Review 06

Now is probably a good time to reveal that I'm definitely going to be expanding my year-end list to 50 albums. Seriously fam, I digest music like I'm a fully-staffed webzine. Lately I'd been doing nothing but bump Watch The Throne, until this record caught my eye:

Viscera [2011]

by Jenny Hval

(Rune Grammofon)

She sings seriously of electric-toothbrush-vibrators and golden showers. Breast milk and erections. Clitoris and liver. So, Norwegian singer/songwriter Jenny Hval mires her music in the reality and unreality of the body. She makes music unafraid of confronting sexuality and sensuality. It is direct, and it is beautiful in its unpredictability.

The song structures here consist mostly of left turns, but often left turns into sweeping and cinematic territory. The music and arrangements are inconsistent (and supposedly improvised about the lyrics), but the feel of the album is unwavering. There is an air of danger and excitement to all of these songs, not just because they bluntly broach the existence of women's taboo sexuality, but because they refuse to stay still while doing so.

The music does seem to respond to and depend on the lyrics themselves, which are nothing short of breathtaking for their imagery and verve. Consider the surreal assurance of these lines: "I carefully rearranged my senses / so they could have a conversation. / Taught them to switch places; / from each pore in my skin grew shimmering eyes / And fingerprints filled the eye sockets." Shape-shifting sound effects score the above words from standout "Blood Flight" until the confused transformation is complete and a driving guitar riff emerges. It's one of many breathtaking moments on the album where the menace or seductiveness of Hval's lyrics are complimented or combated by the perfect arrangements.

If you're at all feeling in the mood for something sad/beautiful/uneasy/inspiring, check it out. Sounds like what I imagine Virginia Woolf would've recorded.

Conclusions

I'm expectedly excited about my apartment with Andrew. Decorating will be a blast. Having my own space will be a blast. Living downtown (a childhood fantasy) will be a blast. So surreal to watch students pour into the once empty streets of campus. Already an autumnal wind was a-blowin' at dusk. The end of summer is a beautiful thing.

LIVE POSITIVE

Alien Observer

How 2 <3

Thesis

It's getting late. But when you start a blog post like this at 3 AM, maybe it's more so getting early. A blog post like this meaning a blog post that seems Important to me. Meaning a list! Yes, fam! It's a late-summer list like you've never seen!

MY TOP 10 FAVORITE ALBUMS

For whatever reason, I've been turning this particular list over in my head. I haven't published something as silly as this since those high school Facebook notes I'd like to forget. I'm noticing a surprising amount of overlap between the albums on this list and the ones from way back when. Some music just sticks with you, y'know.

Anyway, I love this list because each of these albums is the Best Album Of All-Time. They are ordered alphabetically by album name. I love lists.

Aquemini [1998]

by Outkast

It still sounds ahead of its time. From the unexpected opener "Hold On, Be Strong" to the twisted thump of closer "Chonkyfire," Aquemini redefines the parameters of hip-hop. As it turns the Dirty South on its head, the record remains both soulful and silly, bumpin and serious. 3k and Big Boi are at the top of their collective game here. Don't get me started on the instrumentals. It's a #RARE experience, an album busting at the seams with invention. Also notable for containing the only funny rap skits ever.

Daughters [2010]

by Daughters

I'm already retconning. Yes, this 2010 release was nowhere to be found in my Best Albums Of The Year list. But when I published that list I was still afraid of how Daughters made me feel. Which is dangerously volatile and amazed and enraged and emo/human. This is abrasive, alienating music (their first record blasts through 10 songs and countless riffs in just over 11 minutes). This one lasts twice as long and makes twice of an impression. Grindcore or math punk or whatever you want to call it, Daughters is a gut-wrenching listen where each song feels absolutely critical. Like every second counts.

Dragging A Dead Deer Up A Hill [2008]

by Grouper

Liz Harris is an artist on another level. Probably my favorite artist (certainly my most listened to). Her body of work is a gorgeous mess of tape-loop experiments and vocals distorted to hell, guitars made into static waves and piano strikes made alien. And yet: Dragging A Dead Deer Up A Hill. Pretty, singer-songwritery guitar ballads and relatively clear and angelic singing. This was my introduction to the black-and-white slow-motion dreamworld of Grouper, and it remains my favorite. My favorite because of the cozy-in-bed mood, my favorite because of the reverb, my favorite because of "Stuck." This is the same Liz that summoned "Second Wind / Zombie Skin," but it's also a rare Liz that seems to be recording after snoozing in a comfy chair with some hot chocolate.

Feels [2005]

by Animal Collective

Avey, Panda, Deeks, and Geo are my bros. They're the band I've spent more time loving than any other. I fondly remember every time I've seen them live, every time I've cuddled up in bed with them in my headphones, every time I've sat down and listened to them with friends. True love, fam. AnCo aren't that cool anymore, but one listen to the bubbling guitars of "Did You See The Words" or the sneaky violin of "Bees" reminds you how good they will always be. I've at one point or another declared each and every AnCo release to be their finest, but Feels is the loveydovey summer record of my teens, and for this I'll cherish it forever.

The Golden River [2003]

by Frog Eyes

Something about the way he sings and the way he plays guitar. Carey Mercer, y'all. His words, his crazed eyes, his off-kilter stomp, his spit. Can you hear the menace, the insanity lurking in the ridiculous 3 minutes of "Time Destroys Its Plan At The Reactionary Table"? I can. It's terrifying. It's glorious. There's some lucid lunacy in the spiraling keyboards and crashing cymbals and jagged guitars running all through this album. My favorite recurring nightmare.

In The Aeroplane Over The Sea [1998]

by Neutral Milk Hotel

What was a naive freshman in high school supposed to do with something as brutally honest as this masterwork? Drive down country roads and sing it loudly as possible, I guess. At this point, the album is including almost by default on Best Of lists. It's indie canon of the highest order. But for some reason its reputation did nothing to tarnish the immediate and personal connection I felt to this music. You know it's great, I know it's great. We've both cried to "Two Headed Boy Part 2" like a hundred times in our driveways. And we can all belt "Holland, 1945" like we wrote it ourselves. But despite its legacy and its legend, it still feels like I'm discovering it for the first time when I hear that dun-dun-dun da-da-da-da da-dun.

Live At Leeds [1970]

by The Who

I still remember this record as the one that blew a pre-teen me out of the water. I still remember the band as my idols, my first rock stars. Roger Daltrey, Pete Townshend, John Entwistle, and Keith Moon. I would draw pictures of them, write their names like prayers in my notebooks. A weird, cliche sort of obsession justified by Live At Leeds, which is still to these aged and experienced ears the best live album ever. To borrow a word from my then-soulmate William Miller: incendiary. Also, I'm convinced The Who were the first noise band and the first metal band. Just listen to that 15-minute "My Generation." My my.

My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy [2010]

by Kanye West

Exhaustion sets in as I try to think of different words to write about the album that has refused to leave this blog alone. Let's just say: it endures. "POWER" still feels like way too much. "Monster" still feels like a monster. "Runaway" still feels self-loathing and -empowering. "Lost In The World" still feels like my most-played song. Yeezy continues to teach me well.

On The Beach [1974]

by Neil Young

"What Would Neil Young Do?" The best poster ever, which proudly hung in my dorm room freshman year (and fell to its untimely and crumpled death before I moved out). When I talk about music, I say a lot about favorite this and that. But I also tend to say that Neil Young is the objective Best artist. You can't deny "Cowgirl In The Sand" or "Powderfinger" or "After The Gold Rush" or "Thrasher." If you do, you deny yourself the Best music. On The Beach in particular is that undeniable music. Emotional unrest brews beneath the choppy surface of this doomed and bluesy album. It breaches as harmonica wails.

Purple Rain [1984]

by Prince & The Revolution

So, the sort of album that has a Wikipedia page for each of its songs. The sort of album that makes it into magazine lists. It's fun. It's arty. It's decadent. It's pop. It's Important. It's a movie! "The Beautiful Ones" is The Prettiest Song. "I Would Die 4 U" is the Most Fun Song. "Purple Rain" is the Best Song Ever. It's an album that can only be spoken of in hyperbole! A fitting end to #METASWAG's Top 10, I say.

Conclusions

A list was a perfect way to end the day! Tomorrow night (tonight?) I'll be reunited with some long lost friends. We're gonna party like it's 1999. Anyway, all of this writing has really set the mood for some heavy sleep. Goodnight, y'all. Until next time:

Sign ☮' The Times

#NerdSummer2011

Thesis

I spend all day thinking about blogging, then get restlessly sleepy when it comes time to blog. It's usually around this time of the night that I wonder Why Blog. Mostly because my sleep schedule is so screwed up that I'm awake every night til 5 AM, and there's not much to do in the predawn but listen to Prince and pretend I'm a writer. So let's pretend!

MOONFACE

Killed it in concert. Spencer Krug further cements his place in the pantheon of Canadian music gods. It's the third time I've seen him live (in 2007 with Sunset Rubdown, last year with Wolf Parade, and this year as Moonface). This may have been the best performance of the three, what with those magnificent organ swells and driving drum pads. It didn't hurt that I got to go it alone - after all, what's better than solo concert-going? Just me and the music. I decided to walk to Russian Recording to clear out my headroom. Downtown Bton's magic hour neighborhoods and dogwalkers were welcome sights for this emotional brain. By the time I was at the venue, I was ready to stand and face the music. Opener Flow Child's enveloping synth loops and reverb-heavy vocals recalled Panda Bear without seeming derivative, and Moonface drove through their set like a pair possessed (Spencer brought a percussionist for the tour). The nicest touch of all was the closing song: a reworked "All Fires" from Swan Lake's Beast Moans, now sounding tremendous and Wagnerian.

It's important to note that Russian's sound is still the best in town. Hot dog, it's great not to have ringing ears after a concert. After spending all my life without attending a show there, I've in the past month seen three (Liturgy and Woods/Kurt Vile being the other stellar gigs). I still need to write about those shows.

Summer Music Review (05)

A quick one, while I'm awake. In this Summer Music Review, I'll discuss my favorite record of the summer, and certainly one of the year's best:

As High As The Highest Heavens And From The Center

To The Circumference Of The Earth [2011]

by True Widow

(Kemado)

True Widow deserve better than this harried 5 AM review. I'll keep it short at the risk of becoming incomprehensible soon. The record is a syrupy dose of stoner shoegaze doom slowcore. In other words, heavy and wholesome. The pace is glacial and the riffs are edgy. It's noisy without being abrasive, and airy without being thin. The vocals are smooth and chilled out. True Widow have churned out the perfect music for the slow motion sludge of a sweaty summer afternoon. Or the blurred-out haze of a midnight in July. The music itself feels humid (in the best possible way). So: kick back, turn up the volume, and get sweaty with the hottest and heaviest album of the summer.

Conclusions

Another brief post. It'll do for now. August holds the promise of heatwaves and thunderstorms, so I'm sure I'll be inside plenty enough to blog on the regular. Maybe you (lucky reader) will even get a virtual tour of my new apartment or stumble upon the Best Albums Of All-Time list waiting to reveal itself on #METASWAG. Until then!

<3 Weezy

Change

RIP #METASWAG

Thesis

It's too late for a real blog, so I'll have to real blog tomorrow. I had intended tonight to real blog, but I got blog-bogged down by design changes. What do you think? The old swag was tyte, but it was time for a change. Tinkering should morph this into a more pleasing layout, but for now there will be some bugs.

Bugs

Summer brings them out.

Groundhog Day

I just watched it for the nth time. Few films are better.

Conclusions

Definitely not a real blog. Tomorrow I'll write about my concert-going these past few weeks and maybe even come up with a review of Captain America. Or Leaving Las Vegas. That reminds me: the new Charlie Kaufman film will feature Jack Black, Jim Carrey, and Nicholas Cage. Hella.

RIP Amy Winehouse :'(

Day Off

Or: Why I'm Not At Pitchfork

Thesis

Sometimes words are inadequate. Such was the case last night after the Woods and Kurt Vile show. Zech and I were walking the streets of Bloomington in an emotional stupor, shellshocked and overpowered by ourselves and some heavy music. A first-world problem, but a problem not helped by what we witnessed on Kirkwood.

Knock You Down

The idiot drunkenness that can be seen on weekend nights downtown is usually a welcome component of the college town atmosphere. Last night, however, things were worse. The two of us passed by a group of friends consoling their crying friend, who was distraught because he had (I think) just been verbally assaulted by a pack of what I'll call for the sake of this blog "white people." I used different words at the time.

The crying friend in question was black. He had been assailed, presumably, because of this. His friends were doing their best to explain the idiocy of the passing bigots/worst humans ever/white people. He wasn't comforted.

Take This Weight

I feel immature and naive and "white guilt" writing about racial insensitivity/injustice/violence. Who am I to be taken aback by this scene? It's not as if I didn't know racism was a real and terrible problem in the world. I just can't process seeing that last night. I felt like crying. It's always been obvious that the world is terrible at times. That people treat each other badly. I can't stand it. I can't offer a response to this. I probably shouldn't have even committed it to writing. Maybe by reading it you can feel bad too. Or figure out if there's anything intelligent or useful to be made of this. I just want humans to care about each other.

Anyway, to talk about the usual trivialities of #METASWAG, all of this happened in the midst of an already emotional night. Zech and I were talking deep existential things and trying to figure out what makes everything okay. Maybe midnight bike rides. Talking to each other? Art?

This Is A Music Blog

I guess it's time to talk about why I'm not at Pitchfork. And why that's okay.

> None of my friends were able to go this year

> It would run me at least $100

> The only acts I really cared to see today are G-Side and Julianna Barwick

> I've already been to four concerts in the past week

> So

Conclusions

I'll write up said concerts and talk about less sad things when I'm feeling less sad about things. Wish I had written more carefully and usefully about the sad things themselves. Maybe I will soon. For what it's worth, excepting last night, this week has been spectacular. Back to regular programming in the coming days.

I'm the bouncing head in front of Avey (Good Memories)

10.0

#NerdSummer2011

Thesis

It would be alright if this is just a quick blog before lunch. I think it's going to be peanut butter & jam sandwich with chicken noodle soup. Probably chocolate milk for a drink. Is there any better language I could use to convey myself in lunchtime mentality? Is this an accurate portrayal of a sleepy and hungry and chilled out self? lol Can't wait to eat.

Summer Music Review (04)

Here's some writing about the album for which I have halted two parties. Apologies to party people in the place we be, but I love me this music:

Im Gay [2011]

by Lil B

(self-released)

Lil B has finally recorded his masterpiece. And for all of you who have only heard gimmick tracks like "I'm Miley Cyrus" and "Wonton Soup," the previous declaration probably doesn't mean much. Yes, Based God can seem like a joke. Yes, he's released upwards of 1,000 tracks in just a few years. Yes, he is Ellen Degeneres. But (this is why I love him) he's never ironic. I'm pretty sure he cares about "Justin Bieber" as much as he does "I'm God." Now he's trying to make a statement (just look at that cover), and though it's a political failure, it's a musical triumph. Let's talk politics first.

I've previously praised Based God for playing with the standard heterosexist misogyny of rap. But he manages to avoid and ignore the topic all together on a record called Im Gay (the subtitle on the album artwork is an unnecessarily homophobic qualifier too). The album title is based, but it seems more like a publicity stunt than the genuinely progressive moment Lil B wants it to be. This is a missed opportunity to open up about sexuality and identity on a release where people are actually listening to him. While he has tweeted and stated in interviews that he is intentionally pointing out the utility of language and attempting to counteract homophobia in rap, Im Gay could have been a bolder social statement. As is, it's just an excellent musical statement.

That's enough for me. Because I need this positivity and this flow. Here is Based God's first wholly cohesive and consistent album. Im Gay stays at a steady midtempo for its entire running length, but it packs the momentum and punch of [insert name of high-profile and praised rapper] going hard. The production throughout is stellar. From the Spirited Away soundtrack and Barack Obama-sampling "Gon Be Okay" to the chopped and screwed "Iris" that backs "I Hate Myself," the beats are colorful and effective. No, it's not on a RZA or FlyLo level, but it sounds so right beneath Lil B's stream-of-consciousness ramble.

As per usual, most of the raps are based. A lot of the rhymes are nonsense and a lot aren't rhymes. This is nothing out of the ordinary for Lil B (the self-proclaimed "rawest rapper alive"). He's never been a great rapper because he's great at rapping. He's a great rapper because he uses his music to promote a positivity and spirituality that we need. And in the midst of his out-of-control freestyles, he stumbles across socially complex statements like "The hood is a lie," and moments of introspection like "I see myself in the mirror but I don't see nothin." It's his rawness that makes these lines shine. He's never been dishonest to himself or his listener, and the honesty makes for a more intriguing listen. Or maybe you shouldn't trust this review because I unconditionally love Lil B for his based lifestyle.

Real talk: there are more moments of clarity on this album than any of his prior releases, and the production is excellent front-to-back. It's fun, accessible, and chill. And let's be honest: I've teared up a few times to "Unchain Me." Oops. Even if he isn't the best rapper, he is my favorite rapper. I hope Lil B never changes. Thank You Based God.

Conclusions

That took way too long. Now I'll make myself a sandwich.

DRAKE I FEEL YOU BRO

21

THANK YOU BASED GOD

Thesis

If you're gonna skip out on blogging for a week, it better be for a good reason. Well, as some of you may have noticed, I turned 21 on Thursday.

Birthday Blitz

Let's be honest: I'm at the end of a five-day bender. Often fun, sometimes sloppy, rarely irresponsible, this week has been a set of important lessons about self and identity. It's also been ridiculous fun. Thanks to everyone who ran the town with me (Zech and Kate for housing, Bron for crawling, 4tet 4evr, Lynn for driving, Ken for the card, Bubbz for the platypus and cookies, Barton for the convos, Dall for <3, Jimmy for dancing, Jay for Bebop, and to everyone else my sleep-deprived mind is forgetting).

It's been somewhat difficult to reconcile drinking with my (for the most part) straightedge performance these past two decades. It's a decidedly different way to understand and present myself, and one that probably makes other people redefine "Patrick." That's fine, though I may be overestimating how important my refusal to drink was to people's expectations and assumptions of me as a human being.

I think the emergence of a partying Patrick is refreshing, if not that unexpected. I've been party mentality since I learned how fun dancing is. Now that actual alcohol supplements this sort of fun, I'm not too upset with myself or recent decision making. It really does open one up to the mutability of perspective and experience. I just need to remember that this isn't very Important, and that most everyone has been doing this without me for a while now.

This doesn't need to be a reimagination of self on the same scale that my embrace of radical feminism was, but it does require self-discipline and -criticism. And maybe a little less self-seriousness than this blog post would suggest.

Party on, fam.

This Is A Music Blog

I hate to do this (jk luv music blogging), but there has been so much great music released/leaked in the past few weeks. Here's a quick rundown of what's blowing me up this summer:

> 4 by Beyonce
> Emergent Layer by Golden Retriever
> We Must Become The Pitiless Censors Of Ourselves by John Maus
> "Next To You" by Chris Brown (Feat. Justin Bieber)
> Player Piano by Memory Tapes
> Go Tell Fire To The Mountain by WU LYFE

> Bon Iver, Bon Iver by Bon Iver [9.5 lol]

This year's music is hypercrazy. Special shoutout to Colin Stetson's New History Warfare, Vol 2, which came out earlier in the year and was totally slept on by yours truly. It's like the most inventive album ever and omg I love it so much that I bought it.

Also, here's an important reminder that I'm having the best July ever:

> 08 / Liturgy at leBish

> 13 / AnC0 with mi padre in Pitt

> 14 / 6@|\|6 6@|\|6 at leBish

> 15 / KertVile & Woodz at USSRrecords
> 16 / P4k party in Chi

Get jealous, fam. Or come along!

Conclusions

Living positive, we can change the world. Up ahead is a busy work week, but one that also includes The Lord Of The Rings: The Return Of The King Extended Edition in theatres, 4th of July celebrations, Transformers 3: Dark Of The Moon in IMAX 3D (Thank You Based God), and all sorts of other reading and creating. My original comic masterpiece is underway, as is a novel, and plenty of reading of Judith Butler and Cormac McCarthy.

Sounds like a great summer!

Here's a #RARE picture of Lil B's Based Cat "Keke"

51

Thesis

Everyone loves music videos! Too easy.

Let's be honest

A phrase I'm using too much this summer. But anyway, let's be honest: I'm only blogging at the moment because I'm too tired (sic) to go to sleep. Liz Harris, goddess, is keeping me company while I mull over the dark days of the soul and what it means to be alive:

What I'm Actually Thinking About

> Going to a wedding in a week

> Turning 21 on Thursday

> Wearing dresses

> The Game Of Thrones season finale tomorrow night

SPECIAL MUSIC VIDEO EDITION

When you see three stellar music videos in the span of a few days, you gotta blog. Especially if JBiebs is featured heavily in one of said videos.

For your consideration:

VIDEO 1

In which two talented singers and dancers do their part to pretend the heterosexual imaginary. Love the music. Hate Chris Brown. The melody is pretty vanilla, but the video budget is hella ridiculous (why is the world falling apart?) and the production is fresh (see 4:20 for James Blake influence and the best part of the song).

This video is notable for the emergence of Bieber's lower register, sexuality, and post-apocalyptic Derelict steez. In other news, I'm a Belieber.

On a third listen, this song might be my favorite ever. Still hate Chris Brown.

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VIDEO 2

In which Rihanna outdoes Beyonce's "Run The World (Girls)" with a much more complicated and engaging feminist anthem. This is empowering anti-rape music that is never heard in mainstream pop music. Sure, Rihanna dresses as sexy cop at one point in the video, but the song is unambiguously about killing her rapist.

For cool discussion of the song, check this out.

Lyrics are a cut above Katy Perry's "wanna be a victim/ready for abduction." Still hate Chris Brown.

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VIDEO 3

In which the year's best album gets its first music video/short film. That's right - Grouper's A I A has reclaimed its throne (rightfully so) in part thanks to this amazing piece. The atmosphere is chilly and the vibe is righteously dark. Like Lars von Trier and David Lynch wanted to really scare you.

The imagery works really well with the song, gives me the heebie-jeebies. Also check out "Sputnik," a previous collaboration between Grouper and Weston Currie. And even still, I hate Chris Brown.

Grouper - I Saw A Ray from Weston Currie on Vimeo.

Conclusions

Can you get enough? Maybe I'll hit double digits for the month. That's a lot of blogging! Did I mention that good ole Ted came to visit the other night? Or that I went to a camping trip birthday bash? Or that I've worked 36 hours this week? Maybe next time!

This Blog Has Been Brought To You By Dairy Queen

$15

Throwback Image

Thesis

Playing poker with friends has its ups and downs. But that's not what I'm going to talk about tonight (good game, Jay; happy birthday, Annamarie; see ya soon, Kyle). Instead, this blog will hold fast to Rza's June Blogging Challenge - which means another movie review. This one won't be as rambling and ridiculously long as my Tree Of Life review. It'll even be about a lamestream summer blockbuster!

<< BREAKING NEWS >>

We briefly interrupt this blog to inform you that Lil B and Lil Wayne have recorded a track together for Weezy's upcoming pre-Carter IV mixtape, Sorry 4 The Wait. Thank You Based God. We now return to regular blogging.

Summer Movie Review (04)

X-Men: First Class [2011]

Directed by

Matthew Vaughn

#SurpriseSummer2011 Whoda thunk that Thor and First Class would turn out to be killer comic book movies? After the middling X3 and the abominable Wolverine (still haven't brought myself to watch all of it), my expectations for another Fox-owned X-Men movie were pretty low. But Matthew Vaughn and crew created something special: a superhero origins story that feels fresh, a blockbuster with character-motivated action, and a message that doesn't feel forced. This is the lamestream summer movie to beat.

It is maybe important for this review to understand that I'm an X-Men fanboy. My first artwork to hang in my dad's cubicle was of the X-Men (a drawing I recreated eight years later because I am a nerd). My poor little brother couldn't watch Sesame Street like other toddlers, because I was too busy watching the X-Men animated series. A few years later, I actually graphic-novelized the 2000 film. And I'm currently dedicating a startling percentage of my income to buying collections of Grant Morrison's early-'00s run on New X-Men. All of this to say:

i nerd... First Class make me :)

So, maybe this movie isn't for you. But it's for me. And shouldn't it be held to a different criteria than The Tree Of Life? This is a big summer movie with just the right amount of heart and just the right amount of silly. I love the look, I love the pacing, and I love the story. The vibe of the movie feels right. Erik and Charles' relationship feels right. The dynamic of the X-Men feels right. I don't care that Banshee isn't Irish or that Beast looks a little off or that Moira isn't a geneticist (okay, I'm a little bummed that Moira isn't a geneticist). All I care about is the spirit of coalition and fun. This movie has both.

It also has standout performances and a refreshingly breakneck pace. Michael Fassbender should get awards for his Magneto, all dedication and simmering anger. James McAvoy's Professor X is freewheeling and spirited, with enough seriousness and thoughtfulness to be developed later into the bald Charles everybody knows and loves. For as great as Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart were in these roles, it's remarkable what these young actors were able to do. A few of the moments shared between the two nearly had me in tears (seriously).

Real talk: this is the best X-Men movie yet.

While the first X-Men movie was a revelation back in the day, and X2 had some self-serious swag, neither movie had as much of a good time with the X-Men as this movie did. And it's this fun and adventurous spirit that ends up being the film's strongest attribute. Because behind all of the liberal themes and wacky sci-fi melodrama, X-Men is above all about having fun being whoever you are. First Class captured that sentiment while still delivering on the goods of a big action flick. To me, that makes this is a perfect summer movie.

Summer Music Review (03)

Changing gears. Might as well talk about what I'm listening to right now.

Shadowland [2011]

by Barn Owl

(Thrill Jockey)

Okay, I intended this review to be longer, but I'm getting hella sleepy. I've listened to it like four times in a row now (it being a relatively short EP), and it has stayed engaging. This is the first Barn Owl I've listened to, but if the rest of their output is this brooding and assured, then I'm gonna have a new love affair this summer. This three-song release is all tension and texture, mood and motion. Sounds like it's burrowing away into my brain. There's plenty more to write, but seriously. Sleepy.

Conclusions

I'm waking up not too long from now to run with my co-worker baby. It'll be good for me. I really do love to sweat. Especially in the rain. I'm a little concerned about my circadian rhythm, at which I threw a major curveball after staying up until 5 AM to watch Game Of Thrones. It certainly wasn't good for me to watch all nine episodes in a single sixteen-hour span, but I can't help but feel a little bit accomplished.

Well, now that my cereal is gone: to bed.

Next Purchase

93.9

A triumph.

Thesis

Double the chill, double the writing. Though I'm subjecting myself to record numbers of work hours this week, I'm finding myself completely chilled out. With a belly full of Thai curry and a head full of soundtrack, I'm ready to blog.

Summer Movie Review (03)

The Tree Of Life [2011]

Written & Directed by

Terrence Malick

Long awaited and much anticipated by yours truly, Malick's latest film surpassed my expectations by totally defying them. The problem with reviewing it, and even with watching it, is that I entered the theater convinced that this would be a masterpiece. I've almost never been let down by a movie I hype up (Tron: Legacy had so much potential), because my feeble mind won't let me. But when the lights came up and the credits rolled, I had no idea what to make of the movie.

It was obviously doing something special. Never in my life have I seen a movie even attempt to do what this movie has done (don't ask what this is). But it left me conflicted. There was more in the movie than I could handle. Its first part is almost entirely comprised of half-whispered voiceovers, regrets and wishes directed at the speaker, the film, God, and the audience, as the entire span of Existence is dramatized. The second part lives - really lives - with a Waco, Texas family. The third part is a trip to heaven. Was it just too much for one film? How could such a film succeed?

I at first felt like it hadn't. It was impossibly large. It was intangible. It was meandering (sup Tarkovsky). It was intensely sentimental and humorless. It was out of control. I felt as if Malick had overstepped his mark. Granted, his ambitions were extraordinary, but his execution was scattershot, incomprehensible. He had already made sophisticated statements about the human soul in unabashed and straightforward masterpieces Days Of Heaven and Badlands. Why did this have to be so elusive?

And then I remembered the real anguish of a family's struggles. The haunted lamp post and falling down shadows. The crash and recoil of primordial waves. The rush of doing something you're not supposed to do. The mesmerizing light that bookends the film. Even the damn dinosaurs. These are the striking parts of a confused whole, fractured images that coalesce into an equally fractured narrative. This could never be the movie I was expecting. It had to be as broken and collage-like as its poster.

So, the effect achieved here is not as immediate as I had expected. But it is all the stronger for its subtlety. It unveils itself over time, slowly. The structure that binds the whole together becomes understandable. The narrative being constructed feels correct. This is not just Malick autobiographically rambling to himself. This is Malick making his voice heard loud and clear, and he hopes you hear your own voice in his. Despite all of its pretension and ambition, The Tree Of Life resonates on a genuinely real emotional level. It is a challenging work of love.

This movie makes demands of its audience - we must invest in order to take something away. Of course, almost any movie worth its running time will engage the audience and require emotional investment. But The Tree Of Life asks more (asks you to relive your life) and gives back more. This movie is about you and your own experience. Many of the film's silent or instrumental passages even feel like time allotted for self-reflection. I mean, for the love of Based God, the preface to the first draft of the script reads:

The "I" who speaks in this story is not the author. Rather, he hopes that you might see yourself in this "I" and understand this story as your own.

Malick is telling The Human Story (middle-class white Catholic family, yes), telling the story of One Life, of Your Life. It is one of loss and sadness. The conclusion arrived at - all you need is love? - doesn't feel trite; it feels complicated.

Notice how I've written all of this without really saying anything. That's how Big and Important this movie is. I didn't even talk about the performances or the score or the best cinematography ever or the plot even or how this is by far Malick's most experimental film or anything. I can only say that it is an experience like no other. That this is a daring, beautiful film.

It asks Why? and provides more answers than I know what to do with. I have to see it again.

Conclusions

Well, that was a lot. Maybe I should've reviewed X-Men: First Class. That'll be the next post! In the mean time, let's talk about feminism or friends or love or music or going to sleep. I'll just go to sleep. If it's nice out again tomorrow, I'll read outside. If not, I'll blog. See you soon, fam. I can't seem to stay away from you this summer.

CONGRATS TO MY HOMEBOY KRIT (FINNA BLOWING UP)

122

In which an irrelevant blogger reviews an obscure and sold-out cassette.

Thesis

If I've had an "off" day this summer, today was it. At work, I fumbled over words and generally misrepresented myself as myself five years younger. Once home, I watched the end of Home Alone and the beginning of Wayne's World. I ate a Tibetan rice dish, birthday cake, and Ben & Jerry's ice cream for dinner. While watching The Holy Mountain in my bedroom, my peripheral vision kept confusing the oscillating fan with ghosts or cats or something else. I've decided to take the next two days off work, to work on me and read X-Men comics. I also plan on having fun with my best friends.

Until then, I'll chill out with a new record I've happily stumbled across (read: found on the forum).

Summer Music Review (01)

Days Of Heaven [2011]

by Remote Islands

(Stunned Records)

Certainly a tape worth blogging about, and quickly becoming one of my favorites of the year. Background: a bunch of smart Philly-area musicians gathered around and made a smart pop record. This manifests itself in tight, memorable melodies and lush (strings), confident instrumentals.

All of this is vague (for specifics, check out above link), and there are several reference points I could and should use, if I weren't so sleepy. The label itself lists "everything that's been effective, uncompromised, and lasting about pop & rock music" as a reference. So that's good. Maybe Olivia Tremor Control, with less Beatles/psychedelia-mentality? I name OTC because it's hard not to hear the work of many minds (and instruments) at work on this record, and because of Remote Islands' "classic" sound. I dislike that descriptor, but what else am I to do with the bluesy-rock of "There's A Cost Associated"? They definitely listened to The Rolling Stones. Or maybe the singer just sounds like Jagger on that song. A little bit of Nurses, too. Um.

Why this record is special: stellar songwriting, warm production, and well-balanced sequencing. Really, it has all the makings of a typical Great Record. The opener sounds like an exciting and catchy single, the closer sounds like an emotional big finish. But there's a weirdness and a restraint that makes this record something special, that elevates it. What could be overbearing (strings, again) are well-placed, and what could be cloying ("classic" sound), sounds tasteful when recontextualized. Like Ford & Lopatin before them (but unlike Ford & Lopatin in every other way), Remote Islands' innovative, fun, and irony-free reclamation of vintage structures and sounds sets Days Of Heaven apart from the multitudes of indie experimental pop-rock. They're making it all sound new again!

Did I mention how talented everyone is in this band? I probably did. Or how immediate and brazen so many of these songs sound? For all y'all hating on my other jams, Remote Islands is accessible and hella cool. This is a band and a recording to remember. Say it with me: REMOTE ISLANDS.

Conclusions

I should stop blogging after midnight, with low battery. On the other hand, my blog count for June may hit the double digits. If all goes according to plan, each will be titled a number. Guess what the number will be on my birthday! By the way, it's Bro's birthday today! Happy Birthday Bro! Did I mention that I was able to use "fam" as a direct address several times at his graduation party? Anyway:

Goodnight, fam.

Also Now Playing (TURN IT UP LOUD)

(1+1=2)

#METASWAG Summer 2011 Theme:

Celebrity Couples On The Beach

Thesis

If you can't blog three times in a month, your summer is either too lazy or not lazy enough. Personally, I've kept a fairly regular rotation of lazy and busy days, such that I never feel motivated to blog. Today's post is completely unmotivated. Worry not, fearless reader, this means it will be a short (readable) post!

Risky Summer 2011

This summer I'm taking risks! It's important. Health risks, like eating cream-cheese-salsa and chips for dinner and staying up til 7 in the morning. Social risks, like meeting new people and talking to people I haven't in ages. Leadership risks, like combining Dungeons & Dragons Club with a Feminist Book Club (can't take full credit for this lunacy). Travel risks, like driving alone to Chicago to see B.o.B. and a good friend.

All of these risk should eventually lead to some sort of constructive change in my overall performance of self, so that by the end of the summer I'll be the most well-rounded and exciting person in the entire world.

Selected nice things about being home for 3 1/2 months

> Homemade breakfast

> Playing Portal 2 and FIFA

> Quietude

> Family

> Download rates of > 1 mb/s
> No fear of being judged for crying while listening to "Purple Rain"

This Is A Music Blog (Unmotivated Edition)

Though for months I have unabashedly championed Grouper's stark and breathtaking A I A as the standalone shoe-in for Best Album Of 2011, a new record has entered the fold that is simultaneously much more listenable, and much more complex. Gang Gang Dance's Eye Contact and tUnE-yArDs' w h o k i l l are fabulous, full-blown spectacles, but neither have the something special of my newly-crowned (and obv subject-to-change) Best Album Of 2011.

Channel Pressure [2011; Software/Mexican Summer]

by Ford & Lopatin

It's The Best Of The 80s in a glitchy and modern sonic landscape, where everything sound like synthetic emeralds. I've gotta stop making good music sound bad. More accurately: simply the most well-constructed pop music of the last who-knows-how-long (since "All Of The Lights"?). The songs, while hella fun to dance to alone in your living room, reveal so much depth in headphones. I suggest trying both.

See below for a selection from this pop masterpiece.

Conclusions

Let's be honest, I've listened to Beyonce's "1+1" seven times in a row. Let's be honest again, this was not a very short blog post. It is, nonetheless, a blog post that kept me from the dreaded (2) next to May's blog output. I don't know where this arbitrary standard of 3 posts/month came from, but I darn well intend to meet it.

Happy Summer! June will be the month of regular blogging (empty promise).

"Break Inside" from above-mentioned Best Album Ever

Special Bonus Song

S.O.S.

Get a taste of this.

Thesis

Summer nights are meant for this. This can be any number of things.

This:

> Eating Cap'n Crunch and reading political philosophy

> Blogging about the mundane (or reading friends' blogs)

> Watching "Super Bass" over and over again

> Looking up freeware for formatting screenplays

> Examining the Beetlejuice Wikipedia page

Yes, summer seems perfect for this. And this seems perfect for me right now.

Unpacking my headroom

School sucks (no, it doesn't). But these past few weeks were difficult. Dead week was entirely Undead and mercilessly Evil. Finals week was no less hardhearted. I know yours was awful too. We had papers and exams and all sorts of messed up work to deal with. But the worst part of the year's end was the lack of interpersonal contact.

Mealtimes became stolen minutes between manic cramming (on Tuesday, I absorbed a bag of chips out of necessity). Conversations shriveled into absentminded sympathy exchanges (I'm not sure you really heard anything I said, and I know I didn't hear what you said). Pleasantries no longer matter (I know we're friends and we just made eye contact, but my face can't smile).

I wasn't able to say goodbye to half the people I wanted to.

So, more accurately, finals suck (duh). And only if you're lucky does the end of finals allow for a moment of clarity. I was lucky. Or I made a wise decision to stay one last night in the dorms. It was worth it, to say goodbye to my room and to myself as a student. I was finally able to take my time and learn some new things. I learned how to play Go. I learned how to sell my books for more. I learned how to order a new sandwich at Dagwood's. I learned how to learn about myself (watch The Taste Of Tea). I learned how to move out.

The last memories of my dorm room will be of "I Think I Can" waking me up and "Vapor Trails" tucking me in. Of vacuuming the edges of bare walls. Of stretching one last time before leaving. As much as it was a shared space (mostly with the lovely girlfriend, but with all you guys too - I remember the movies and music and laughing), it was the first space of my own.

Right now, I'm sitting in bed tying this out, with my lil bro's vacant bed right across from me (where is he?). For the second summer in a row, my little bedroom reminds me that I'm not grown up yet. I wonder if this is a 4½ tatami room.

HAGS/LYLAS

That I'm not yet an independent young professional doesn't mean my summer isn't promising. Excepting July's holy trinity of shows (Animal Collective, Gang Gang Dance, Kurt Vile), there's also my reading list

> The Years by Virginia Woolf

> Snow Country by Kawabata Yasunari

> Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy

> and many more...,

June's LOTR:EE theatrical run, planning for the Indiana University Feminist Action Coalition, a not entirely unrelated Dungeons & Dragons club, regular diet and exercise (laugh with me), hella hours at DQ, chilling with the girlfriend, chilling with the bffs, and some serious creative writing.

If this seems like more than I'll be able to take on, I'll just take on as much as possible. Obviously a few are going to be taken on no matter what (I'm looking at you LOTR). Sounds like a lot of fun to me!

Conclusions

Trying to type quietly will cost me my word count. This means I'll once again be saving ideas for the theoretical Best Blog Post Ever. Can you believe I'm leaving a lot unsaid? Before my enforced bedtime ends this post, I'd like to say (rather than being the worst person ever and denying the reality of the maternal instict) Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers who deserve it. This means especially my mom, who I cherish. Gushier stuff will be (note tense) written in a card, but a public acknowledgment must be worth something.

Goodnight, fam. I'll leave you with some poetry that is not my own.

"Laughing Hieroglyphic"

by Avey Tare

The flies in the dark with their ways

Of shedding some light, now I've lost all my day

I think they are very lucky

With internal parts like illumined sun rays

It's so easy to get

Lost in the mixture

When forces strike hard

You wear your layers or you'll shiver

I didn't think you were

Struggling so long

With all of the wild things

That we took so young

How it must have wrapped you up

And left you hanging upside-down

When I was too busy getting lost in

The big sound, the big sound

Now I'd trade in all I'd saved

To fly to those nights and ask, "How are you brother?"

If we could have just engaged

I'd have enhanced my weakness in comforting others

But the words are all jumbled and faded

My heart is a nurse, but my tongue's in the blender

Now it's become something creative

I know it's not much, but just let it right into your gut

And hold me, I've been sad for days

The light does change its gifts, every hour's devoured

But the same things haunt me, what's haunting you?

Lately I've been seeing beings

They look like they float at the back of my headroom

I don't find it strange, but I'm talking to you

Lion in your dreams,

The lion is good for your dreams, accept the lion

The lion would probably try and come and embrace you too

And when I get fucked up, I'll do the best

To make myself not fucked up again, my heart and my lungs too

Why can't I do the same for everyone I love too?

How about it'll be you and me and the leader of the ghosts

How about it'll be you and me and the leader of the ghosts

Lately I've been seeing beings

They look like they float at the back of my headroom

I don't find it strange, but I'm talking to you

Lion in your dreams,

The lion is good for your dreams, accept the lion

The lion would probably try and come and embrace you too