"Wraith Pinned to the Mist" / The Outback Steakhouse Song

I thought this was a killer song when it came out in my college years; I used to have it posted in the bottom of my AIM profile (remember those?)

Seeing of Montreal live was like being thrust into the middle of a giant, gay, psychedelic moshpit full of boys in skinny pants who like High School Musical and misunderstood punk-rock girls totally tripping face. The band is completely insane, fond of excess and will do anything for shits and giggles.

Taking that into consideration, the Outback Steakhouse song makes sense.

Outback Steakhouse, do you realize of Montreal is making fun of you?

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How to become a celebrity

There are many reasons why one might want to become a celebrity, one of them being that you can feel special, and as a former actress, I'll admit I crave the spotlight every once in a while.

The key, obviously, to becoming a celebrity is to do something that sets yourself apart. This is easier in small settings such as offices, schools, and party crowds and much harder in mammoth metropoli like New York City. (Although Gawker does a pretty good job of creating celebrities where none exist.)

Gawker Stalker: Necessary Stalking

No one however wants to become the office celebrity (usually this either means you stole money, and are about to get fired, or slept with someone with a big mouth and have a soiled reputation); school celebrities are always overrated (see Penn's "cultural elite") and party people often do embarrassing drunken things that end up haunting them on the internet for the rest of their lives.

The safest way to become a celebrity then? Move to a mid-sized city (Philadelphia does quite nicely), adopt a trademark "look" or item of clothing and flaunt it, flaunt it, flaunt it. This is actually the idea of two of my college friends, artists (of course!), who kept insisting the "creator" must have a "uniform." (The creator is art, or something like that.)

P. Spice: A woman who understands image

The final step is to show up in conspicuous places looking and acting like you're someone really important. Usually, this is all it takes. A good name will go a long way too - Paris Hilton, the Naked Cowboy - use your imagination. And of course, traveling with an entourage never hurt either.

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I was born in the summer...

...and for most of my life (excluding four years of college, when summers in New Jersey felt like Hell), I've been a summer person. There's something about summer living that feels different from every other time of the year - lazier, freer - and summers in the city are all about the great outdoors, cute summer sundresses and shades, beers on the balcony at 6 p.m. and leaving the bar tipsy at 8 when it's still light out and walking home at sunset.

Philly sunset - image courtesy of www.apha.org

When I was a kid, summers were a chance to live in a bathing suit and flit around at the pool all day, free from the strictures of school and grades and popularity. In college, they were painless and endless, and I counted down the days til Fall when I could return to the city and culture. Now, in the working world, summer seems like a season of endless celebration, and the last week of August one last chance to live it up before we all settle down into responsible September.

I was big into summer theater in my teens, and each year my theater crush would come to fruition (or not) at the end of the season, after months of awkward flirting and tentative first moves. We'd have a week or two of summer bliss, mediated by the fact that when school started, we knew we'd go our separate ways.

The last week of summer now is equally bittersweet, our mindsets all on the verge of change. In the past, I wasn't such a fan of Stephen Malkmus's solo material but the title track on his new record Real Emotional Trash seems the perfect end-of-summer anthem, starting slow and delicate, building up into chaos and resolving finally into a steady party theme, only to end in gentle chords that fade out slowly with the last summer days.

Thank you, Stephen Malkmus. I couldn't have put it any better myself.

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Sometimes, we all just need a little Graham Nash in our lives

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Waxing Poetic on Showtunes

For a large portion of my life, I was involved with the theater, and thus, it was only natural that I should have a hankering for showtunes.

Now, admitting you like showtunes among today's ruthless indie crowd is like saying you like Fall Out Boy - an embarrassing novice admission that sets you apart as weak, and causes immediate losses in cred points. It's only ok if you're gay and campy, and even then, you're limited to a certain repertory: Avenue Q, Rent, Fosse perhaps - with classic clunkers like South Pacific or Oklahoma akin to social suicide.

South Pacific - so not cool.

From a musical complexity standpoint, I get it. "Oh What a Beautiful Morning" is roughly equivalent to "Baby One More Time" or some other piece of fluff nonsense, while [insert song from Rent here] is more like, say, Elliott Smith.

Even so, what makes showtunes so terribly uncool? I have come up with 5 theories:

1. Datedness. New musicals don't get written every year, so some of these songs are dated. "The internet is for porn" is not as funny now as it was in 1998, primarily because everyone now knows that the internet is for facebook stalking.

South Park does Avenue Q - way funnier than it should be.

2. Understandable lyrics. Belting lyrics is only cool if you're Grace Slick, and most Broadway actors are not. A little Cobain influence goes a long way.

3. Lack of rock instruments. Rocking music does not generally come from an orchestra pit.

4. The whole "story" thing. Only Craig Finn can pull this off.

5. Other people that like showtunes blow. I'm talking about struggling musical theater actors, 13-year-old girls and Dungeons & Dragons masters. Perhaps it's best to stay away.

High School Fartsical

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Soundtrack of a Pavement fan

A friend of mine from work, who came of age during the delectable era of the '90s, upon hearing of my deep appreciation for Guided by Voices, made me a mix cd. It's full of lo-fi, math rock and shoegaze that I would have just missed the boat on, and I love the idea of sampling an era and a lifestyle. (Mixes are still in, though the cassette might have died.)

Photo by Andy Hepburn for the Sun

Anyway, I've recreated the playlist here - although Last.fm will only let you listen to a few of the tracks online. (Lame.)

The first 9 tracks are kind of all over the place, although there's definitely that sort of 'drunk in the basement' kind of thing going on. Two days later, and I still can't get 'Funky Future Train' out of my head. "The future in funky!" Damn straight. And of course, you can't go wrong with classics like Pavement and Sebadoh.

Sebadoh at the 2008 Pitchfork Fest - still rockin' into their 40s

The second half is more dreamy and melodic, with occasional forays into the experimental (Polvo, Moore). YLT's "Upside Down" is a standout track, and the video is cute too:

Finally, any die-hard GBV fan loves "Over the Neptune/Mesh Gear Fox" - an epic song from an epic band, and the perfect way to end a mix crafted for me.

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Being a music blogger, I'm always trying to get acquainted with all that came before, and this foray into the '90s is refreshing. You'll never understand Interpol until you understand Joy Division, and you'll never understand No Age until you're heard the multiplicity of bands that influenced them.

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Being in your 20s is all about balance.

I'm still working on this balance. In college, the motto always was: never stop hanging out. Now, with all of us splintered across the area, the motto is: hang out on certain, pre-planned occassions, don't stay out late, be responsible. My problem is it seems phony. People are dull, and everyone is somehow afraid to cut loose when they have to get up for work the next morning.

I wish my life was still more like this:

"The Warehouse Song"

The dudes who sing this song, the Extraordinaires, are a bunch of goofballs from South Philly that have cool hipster jobs like coffee shop dude/ Mambo mover/ screen-printer/ "musician" and write quirky folk songs and dress in crazy costumes. Basically, these dudes know how to party.

Party Animals!

Inspired by their tunes, and a few real-life pranksters I know, last week I said: fuck it! I'm going out every night, and I did, and it was awesome! However, I also ended up missing a day of work because I was hung over (whoops!), feeling generally shitty every morning, and totally slacking on my freelancing. Not good. Like I said, being in your 20s is all about balance.

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Kids these days have no shade

I was searching for the Lucksmiths' "Smokers in Love" and I found this video of random teenagers smoking Salvia:

Your video is entertaining kids, but I hope you're not planning on running for Senate.

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We're at war again! Good old war.

The name Good Old War actually comes from the last names of its members: Keith Goodwin, Tim Arnold and Daniel Schwartz (Yes, very clever.) All three are veterans of the Philly scene: Keith and Tim were in Days Away and Dan and Tim in Unlikely Cowboy.

Their latest album, Only Way to Be Alone, just dropped this past Friday, and just might be the perfect soundtrack for these lazy late summer days. Think charming, laid-back folk melodies-- the Byrds + Wilco-- with lyrics influenced by the great Tri-state.

"Coney Island" is their first single, and comes complete with this adorable video:



LOVE!

Has it really been a week since my last post?

Here's what I was doing in the meantime:

--Packing
--Playing Softball (Exhibit A)
--Bidding farewell to my former roomie, now off doing good in Afghanistan
--Moving
--Unpacking
--Frolicking
--Drinking Beer
--Reading this killer article in New York Mag
--Working/not working and writing on this blog.

Exhibit A: Pretending to be Sporty (I totally missed the ball)

More to come soon; I'm almost finished unpacking.

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