Said the Gramophone - image by Keith Shore

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Mr. Pashino and Me
by Dan

Andrew Bird - "Fiery Crash"

I have a fear of flying, that's a true thing about myself. I share this with some people I admire (Lars Von Trier, Aretha Franklin, Immanuel Kant (had planes existed, I guarantee it)) and, I'm sure, some people I don't. I won't guess as to whether Andrew Bird has that same fear, but his lazy vocals lifted to a call, and his urgent opening guitar and angular rhythm make me believe the song has that fear. That kind of shrugging, I'll do what I have to, it's only a 3-hour flight, kind of acceptance of reality that is at once the only mature thing, and the most passive-aggressive surrender. This song, with all its regularity and nerves pressed down like holding a patch of bedhead, and unbelievable superstition is what it feels like for me to get on a plane. [Buy old stuff]

Agent Simple - "Friday"

In taking a couple of ethics courses at school, I came across a certain trend called "simplified living" or something like that, that some of the students had described as their choice of lifestyle. Basically it seems to consist of the removal of all kinds of intense media from one's life. They don't listen to the radio, they don't own a television, or any books (libraries only), one pair of shoes, not more than one kind of dish and utensil, very few clothes, this kind of thing. Some of you readers may be more familiar and can fill in my gaps. But it's just occurring to me now that Agent Simple is some hulking, warped version of that same ideal. However, he seems to love intense media, and is exhausted by the constant barrage of having to talk to people. It would be tragic, if he weren't so damn contented about the whole thing, and he didn't write such chewy, glistening pop songs from his couch of isolation. [Buy]

1:13 PM on Jan 25, 2007.
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You're Such A Treat
by Dan

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah - "Emily Jean Stock"

It's raining rocks on a still lake surface, and the usually white and warm dawn is cloudy through the shutters; the soft light on your tired tired face. You show the restraint of a cityscape with one tall building, your movements are deliberate, your limbs like signposts. You sing in the shower like a sick crow, gorgeous, and the whole forest outside takes the bus to work. [pre-order and download now]

Fiery Furnaces - "Slavin' Away"

Here begins my defense of Rehearsing My Choir, and we may as well start with the best song, because, who knows, I might die before I finish this. "Slavin' Away" comes late in the album, after youth and marriage are lost, and, the main dishes of life devoured or discarded, you begin to look at the table, and tap your fork and wonder what else there is to do. The consistency of change, and yet the constant recurring of themes in differing forms, is the best part of the album, and the most necessary distraction in this song. To actually document a life, it doesn't make a story. It's the shape of the pieces of wrapping paper you cut away from the actual present. It's sad, and left, and lone, and kind, but sometimes it has those refrains of unbelievable beauty (I could see her lookin' in the mirror at me...) that wash and cure and salve and shine, that make you think that life is poetry, but they are absolutely not the same thing.

[Buy]

[art by irana]

4:00 AM on Jan 23, 2007.
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Dirk is a King, a Jerk
by Dan

Today's pair of songs are alike in 3 ways: they feel hand-made out of clumps of grass, they're as silly-serious as a renaissance fair or a high-school opera, and they both come from bands recommended to me by San Diego's own David Barclay.

Bird Names - "Nature"

Taken directly from his post about them on Popsheep (since he seems to have the only digital files in existence) this is a skittery, wild-eyed, jungle-nursery song that goes off first in every direction, running in circles, doing loop-the-loops, and rolling its eyes at heaven, and then, as the bassline steps in, things fall right into line and sway right up into the trees. They sing, lips above their heads, the chorus, and then the bass, like some meek but obeyed choir director/babysitter, lets them go again until it's time to make sense. [site]

Whysp - "Travels of Youth"

It's weird, this is a song your grandmother totally would play, but you could never play it for her, she'd think you were making fun of her. This skipping and wind-blown jaunty tune is about "lessons learned" from the travels of youth. But if you listen to the whole thing, it seems the only lesson is "everything will go right the first time". Which is, in part, right. Since things can only go one way, that way may as well be right instead of wrong. But in this mini-putt-castle version of olde tymes, life's all mead and laughter, which is hilarious to imagine, but the farthest thing from imparting wisdom. I'd rather take life lessons from Marmaduke, at least his actions have consequences. [MySpace]

4:57 AM on Jan 15, 2007.
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Hide Your Own
by Dan

Casiotone for the Painfully Alone - "Graceland"

Sean posted a cover yesterday, and now I'm posting one today. Where Viking Moses was trying to do it better than the other artists (and in ways, succeeded) here Casiotone sings more in tribute to the original artist than in competition. This song holds a lot of nostalgia for me, so I might be a little biased here, but stick with me: I feel like this song is apt for a new chapter, in your life, or in your field of vision. I have strong memories, strong like your uncle's handshake, of riding in the back seat of a car, this song coming up on the tape for the 30th time, and the tops of trees whipping silently past cutting and scraping the sky. And now it's come up again, and my hands are bigger, I don't often ride in cars, and dinner is far less important. But Casiotone's climbing and squeezing major chords are like that white blue sky, those scraping trees, and it feels like lessons kept and grown. My nostalgia buttons are big and easy like a senior's telephone, but I feel it's real underneath, 'cause Casiotone knows what I'm talking about. [buy]

Sam Skarstad - "Sharks"

The opening track of Sam Skarstad of Snakes Say Hisss' Serkus. It starts by walking across shaky bridges, weak and saggy, then squishes its foot through a plank and falls, caught by the big bowl of great warm water below. The construction paper sharks, swollen to felt at this point, just move under your clothes, grazing and tickling, playing your shoulders like one-stringed guitars. [buy old stuff]

9:41 AM on Jan 12, 2007.
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Meditation: Useless, Unprofitable
by Dan

CSS - "Let's Make Love and Listen to Death From Above"

I find getting dressed to be pretty erotic. I think it's something to do with the idea of "suiting up", like somehow our clothes are our only weapons, and every morning we choose the shirt with the most ammo, or the right arc of fire. It's extremely sexy to me to think that someone put on what they're wearing to make me attracted to them. Just their face, as they pick it off the floor wrinkled, and press it against their chest, a tiny smirk, "this'll get 'em." [Buy]

Pink Mountaintops - "The Forest of Sex"

This, however, is a much more accurate representation of how I view sexuality as a whole. Sex is a promise, and not an act. It's a little prayer whispered and squeaked, about bodies and how they fit. So much of it is just a commercial for itself, and when distilled, manifested, finally realised, it's over, because it's wholly anticipation. I don't want it, I just want to want it. So, therefore, this song is sex, and I never knew it could be so soft. [Buy]

3:29 AM on Jan 9, 2007.
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Spilled Candy Breath
by Dan

BARR - "Half of Two Times Two (Newer Version)"

It would be nice if I agreed with anything he were saying, and it would be cool if I were as hopeful as this melody, but that's why he's playing the song, right? Instead the melody is like drinking rich chocolate liquid, or walking on light-up sidewalks, or flying. And instead I hear the lyrics like a foreign language, their cadence instead like running my finger and thumb along a paper covered in staples, all stapled in a row, as if 100 were stronger than 1. And my ears are pretending to fall down the stairs, but it's just the speed and direction; no danger. But I do agree, with the very last bite: "there is soooo much." [Buy]

departure1.jpg

Abernethy - "Everyone Who Knows You"

Abernethy sings like someone dealing a deck of cards. Everyone gets the same, and each in turn. This song is steeped in wine, it's floating and dripping at once, and in the purely purple sky, the drums don't rumble, they sparkle, by. [site] (thank you, James.)

art by someone (check the comments)

4:29 AM on Jan 5, 2007.
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Stars Like Car Keys
by Dan

Tomboyfriend - "End of Poverty" (5:39)

"You're a smash. A Pony. A Head case."
This song is scrawny, and stubborn, and dirty. It's underdressed, shows up late, and is a loud drunk. It waves and yells to friends from across the street, and borrows DVDs and button-up sweaters for years at a time. It eats terribly, chewing on a pizza slice with a golden grin. It's one charming motherfucker. But a motherfucker none the less. [site]

Bad Veins - "The Lie" (3:54)

If I had an older brother, and he were named Henry, and he went away to school when I was just finishing 10th grade...if he were there for me after I got stood up at S'creams, the local ice cream shop, for my first date, if he made me understand that you could still wear a turtleneck, if you wore it the right way, and if he had a big Boyz II Men faze when we were young, which lead to my big Boyz II Men phase...if he were too tall for his own good, if he could be found, late at night, leaning, creased at the waist, against the kitchen counter having a snack of toast and juice, this would be his favourite song. [site]

12:22 AM on Jan 3, 2007.
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