Adam Green Cometh

Apparently Adam Green is playing Chicago in April. Not so long ago (January?), I saw him here place a show in the Windy City. As he is one of my personal musical heros, I am going to make sure to see this. His performances are energetic and entertaining on a level where you could really hate his music but still love his show. There is something about a wide-eyed man bounding across a stage, taking off his shirt, and offers nonsensical asides between songs that really cuts across musical boundaries. Besides, last time I saw him he used the phrase "abstract topography of the tweenpop landscape." Sold.

Also the reason why I love him is that this was the artist description offered on the website selling tickets for the April show:

"Adam Green is a famous American celebrity from New York City. At the beginning of his career he moved to Germany to seek political asylum from the persecution of his talents. He was greeted with open arms and formed a theatre company which produced a ballet concert. While living in East Germany, he was offered a co-starring role in the movie Juno, which won the Grammy and went platinum. After his work with The Moldy Peaches was done, he recorded 6 solo albums, including the latest, "Minor Love."

Recorded with long time producer/friend Noah Georgeson in a luxurious pool house in Los Angeles California, fondly nicknamed The Lake Room, "Minor Love" found Green enlisting the talents of Rodrigo from Little Joy and other hanger-ons, like his brother Joel (and look-a-likes Joe Steinbrick and Greg from Megapuss).

The album showcases a tender side of the often arrogant and emotionally unavailable bully/singer, Green. In a total state of isolation, Green attempted to play nearly all the instruments on the record, due to incurable social phobias which plagued him. Sometimes a slick session musician, like Rodrigo, was tolerated in the studio. However no women were permitted into the studio at all because of Green's attempts to pursue a bisexual lifestyle.

The inspiration for this album lies in Green's fatalism. Despite a fairly normal upbringing, and a generally optimistic world view, he often contends that nothing lasts... that there is nothing to look forward to...and that "we are all living in a butcher shop," which Leonard Cohen told him while at a Bar-B-Que at Lou Reed's house.

People may be shocked by how talented Adam Green is."

Enjoyable Quotes #1

"Loretta was Clay's girl. They intended to get married at their earliest convenience. She wrote to him fairly regularly, from a paradise of triple exclamation points and inaccurate observations." - J.D. Salinger, For Esmé—With Love and Squalor

I need to start noting down memorable quotes I find while reading. Maybe this will be a good excuse to utilize this blog more often. I save art, design, and photography that strike and inspire me...so why not text?

My Favorite Albums of the Year

2009 proved to be a musically lackluster year for me. I generally keep up well with new music coming out and scour sites like Allmusic.com and music blogs for new tunes, but this year has been musically sparse for me. Maybe I've been preoccupied with my move to Chicago or schlogging through Tom Waits' musical catalog. Regardless, a lot of the bands I have heard this year—a lot of the talked about bands—are annoying at best. Bands like MGMT, Animal Collective, and Grizzly Bear. No thanks, friends.

That being said, I was still able to find some gems this year. The following unordered list contains albums to which I found myself repeated listening for an extended period of time. Albums I listened to from start to finish and then immediate back to the start again. I could make a much larger list of albums that have some great songs, but in the end I really want to share with you the albums from this year truly shine for me.

David Bazan: Curse Your Branches

In his first full-length album, folksy singer-songwriter David Bazan (formerly known as Pedro the Lion) weaves a series of songs focused largely on spirituality. Raised by a preacher in an evangelical family, Bazan's life has largely evolved around religion. In spite of this, his album is not a Christian album. While it deals with religion, his upbringing, and his relationship to it, there is very little positive reaffirmation or praise. I have heard this album described as David Bazan's "break-up" album for his relationship with God.

The songs in Curse Your Branches are generally more driven by their lyrics than their musical qualities. Luckily, Bazan's songwriting abilities have grown and less often do I find myself cringing at awkward lines—which was sometimes the case in his earlier work. In the opener "Hard to Be," Bazan basically cuts to the point in his questioning of religion, particularly in regards to original sin. This song also features a beautiful and catchy musical arrangement that will have you humming the song for at least days on end. Nowhere in the rest of the album does a song shine so simultaneously in both its musical and lyrical qualities, but it is a solid album.

The Cribs: Ignore the Ignorant

I began listening to The Cribs when I picked up their previous album, Mens Needs, Womens Needs, Whatever. Hailing from the UK, they are firmly rooted in the Brit-rock stylings of their peers. And while not as recognizable as names like Bloc Party, Kaiser Chiefs, or The Libertines, I find The Cribs to be my go-to British indie rock band.

Ignore the Ignorant continues and expands upon the band's sound as well as their penchant for self-deprecation and deliberation on relationships. The album is brash, clever, and catchy in a way that only British boys can be. To indicate, the album opens with a song titled "We Were Aborted" followed directly by one of the best songs on the album, "Cheat On Me." Sounds brash to me, no? Their musical ruminations on love, relationships, and self would have been much appreciated during my high school years.

Passion Pit: Manners

I hate MGMT. With the exception of the song "Boys," I cannot listen to their music for more than a few seconds without acquiring a razor-sharp headache. Much of Passion Pit has been cut from the same cloth; they both rely heavily on a specific set of synth sounds for their psychedelic brand of electro-pop. And although those are the particular reasons I dislike MGMT, I rather enjoy Passion Pit. After some deliberation, I have come to realize that beneath the veneer that I have a distaste for is an album of finely-crafted melodies, beats, and hooks.

Yes, I do find the over-treated vocals of lead singer Michael Angelakos to be a bit grating at times and their synthesized tones carry a timbre far too reminiscent of 80s pop and new wave, but behind all of that is a solid album. An album solid enough that despite my personal aversion to those qualities, I am still including Manners on this list. I can only imagine that this album must be absolutely stellar for the typical indie music fan.

Yeah Yeah Yeahs: It's Blitz

After their disappointing sophomore effort, Show Your Bones, in which the band eschewed much of their raw, punkish style for straight forward indie pop/rock, I was very hesitant for It's Blitz. Thankfully I can say that this album, while not exceeding the awesomeness that was Fever to Tell, can honorably sit beside their first LP in the way that their previous album never could.

It's Blitz reintroduces some of the raw edges of their earlier work with some (not so surprise) new guests: synthesizers and drum machines. As per the general trend in contemporary hipster music, this new album sports a much more electronic, dance-friendly sound than their previous efforts. There is also an underlying introspection and softness to some of the songs that sounds far more genuine than the obligatory slow songs in many rock albums.

Lily Allen: It's Not Me, It's You

I was a fan of Ms. Allen's first release, Alright Still, for a very brief but satisfying period of time. The problem I had with that album was that, save for a few songs, the poppy, sunshine-y sounds and melodies became too sweet for my ears. The content of her lyrics is a complete different animal—offering a strong dose of lyrical salt to the musical sweet—which made it accessible for me, the reluctant pop music listener.

It's Not Me, It's You maintains much of the young singer's youthful, crass lyricism but sets it to a backdrop more suited for fall and winter than summertime. It is clichéd to write this of a young artist coming of age, but Lily Allen's second album is drastically more mature than her first and in the best way possible. It has a bigger, more complex sound that takes some of its cues from UK bands Keane and Coldplay. Because of the relative complexity, I've found that my enjoyment of this album has lasted far longer than her earlier work, which lacked longevity. But believe me, the catchy pop hooks are still there. I haven't listened to an album in a long time where the first half is so musically solid that I never skip a track. The song "Not Fair" was so infectious that it would find itself set indefinitely on repeat—something I rarely do. The album only begins to slow down for me toward the end when the tempo slows for the obligatory cutesy pop songs.

Julian Casablancas: Phrazes for the Young

I am a huge fan of The Strokes—much of which can be credited to my brother's zealous passion for them. So I was eager (and a bit nervous) to hear Casablancas' first solo album. Out of all of The Strokes bandmates' side/solo projects, I think it is safe to say that Phrazes for the Young is the boldest. The heart of the Strokes is there, but its muscle and skin is replaced by infectious electro-pop and synthesized sounds. And while the accompanying sound is a departure from The Strokes, the signature Casablanca croon is present and pushed further than it had been with his band.

Flourishes of dozens of disparate styles find their way into Casablancas' songs in which he sings reaffirmingly about life in a way that the apathetic Strokes' singer never would have. The album's opener, "Out of the Blue" has one of the most disgustingly perfect and unexpected choruses I have ever heard. The first single, "11th Dimension" is riddled with clever lines that I constantly have to resist copying into status updates and tweets. There are a few songs I don't particular care for, and in an eight song album two lackluster songs can have an effect. All will be forgiven if Mr. Casablancas decides to quickly come out with more tracks.

Murray Christmas

Faux Silkscreen

Nick's Christmas Song

If you are reading this from the United States—as I'm sure most of you are— you know that we are in the midst of another Christmas season. Or Holiday season if you are a soldier in the trenches of the War on Christmas, slinging grenades of inclusiveness at those of us who recklessly spend our money for unneccesary gifts only at chain stores whose corporate executives remember the Reason for the Season.

Sarcasm aside, it is December and what would this month be without being subjected to music concerning Christmas and Winter Fun with the occasional Hanukkah song tossed into the mix. It would be great if they banned most of the holiday songs that were created after, say, 1960. We would never have to hear another N'Sync or Mariah Carey Christmas original or butchering of a classic song.

This year, my friend Nick Kastner came up with the idea to assemble an album of Christmas/Holiday songs by his musically-inclined friends. People were to send in an original song they wrote or a cover of a classic song. The project is named We Are All Friends – Xmas Album '09. He will be compiling the songs onto a CD, designing the packaging for it, and sending copies to all the contributors. Pretty cool idea to say the least.

I have been known to dabble in the art of creating songs and then recording them. For the entire sophomore year of high school, my friend Colin Holmes and I would sit in front of his family computer and make up ridiculous songs on the fly that were recorded with an extremely crude PC microphone. I believe one of the highlights was called "Shaniqua" and was a love/rap ballad to a fictional Columbus Public schools student and the turmoil caused by being an awkward white boy in the suburbs. Very poignant stuff for high schoolers, if I do say so myself. In addition to Derby, I also created an album's worth of songs with long-time friend Renata Harrison as a faux-emo band under the moniker Table for Tears. Most recently, my friend Katie Mauck and I have informally created a folk duet whose purpose is to cover Eve 6 songs in a folk styling as we think it to be ironic, fun, and also kinda cute. We have but a few of these songs in MP3 format.

Needless to say, I will use any excuse I can to write a song or two. Especially when the excuse (in this case "write a Christmas song") gives me direction as I can rarely come up with something great if left up to my own devices. The first Christmas song I wrote was for Table For Tears and I thought it was a nice little ditty, so maybe this one would be even better.

I worked on my first attempt at a song for this project for a month and came up with a half-finished song whose existent half I mostly loathed. Knowing I had to come up with something before the deadline (which is today), Tuesday night I started from scratch and wrote and recorded a new song in an evening. I think I should do this more often as the result is much better than it would have been if I had time to think about what I was doing.

The result is "Nick's Christmas Song." It's self-deprecating and sarcastic (two of my favorite types of humor) and maybe a little bit sweet. I'm not sure what it sounds like but I think I may have been influenced by my consistent love for early Adam Green songs and my more recent love of Julian Casablanca's solo album.

So here in all its self-aware and narcissistic glory is "Nick's Christmas Song."

Nick Lacke - Nick's Christmas Song.mp3

(right click and "Save As" to download the .mp3 file)

Mascots for Hire.

There are many things in this world that I do not understand. Many large or abstract or philosophical concepts or behaviors seem to elude my comprehension. There are also several things that I feel I should be able to understand, yet cannot. One of these things is the idea of people dressing up in animal suits.

This topic is actually a bit more broad than you would think. And you might think I'm about to start writing about Furries. But I'm not. That is a bullet I intend to avoid. And, by the way, if you don't know what a Furry is search for "furries" in Wikipedia and Google Images. Make sure your children (or parents for that matter) aren't in the room. It's pretty creepy.

Okay, back on track. Really what confounds me is the idea that taking an employee and dressing them up as an animal (or other creature) is a legitimate method for boosting revenue. Every time I see a Blue Dog advertising a bank or a Ridiculous Italian Stereotype outside of a pizzeria, I can't help but get struck with a combination of fear and bewilderment. Maybe partly this is because I have always fostered a hearty fear of costumed beings. I never recall enjoying sitting on Santa's lap or getting photographed with the characters at Disney World. Whatever seems to attract people to these characters seems to be the ingredient which repels me.

I started thinking about this last weekend while sitting on the Megabus waiting to go back to Chicago. Our bus was stopped on the corner of High Street and 12th (I believe) for several minutes while our bus driver was trying to determine his route through campus. It was move-in day for all those little Buckeyes who will soon be either bathing in Scarlet & Gray or sitting in dorm rooms or coffee shops holding a small degree of contempt for those who do. Many different organizations and companies had tents or tables out on High Street for promotional purposes. Right outside where my Megabus was stopped was a tent for Chase Bank. There were two guys throwing a frisbee and--of course--someone dressed up as a blue dog with the Chase logo hanging around his neck as Corporate Bling.

The job of Chase Dog (as I will refer to him) was to pace around and wave at everyone on the road or walking down the sidewalk. This seems to be the standard method for these mascots. And one that I've never understood. I don't understand how having someone dressed up like Little Caesar standing on the side of a busy road waving at cars is going to generate more business than a huge sign that says "CHEAP PIZZA!" The first emotion that emerges from seeing these mascots is pity. Pity for that poor soul who has to stand outside for hours performing the same gestures in often imperfect weather while wearing a ridiculous costume.

But this time I was able to observe Chase Dog for much longer than the few seconds I usually observe mascots. And after the Wave of Pity and the subsequent Wave of Fear passed by I was struck with the Third Wave: The Wave of Amusement. Chase Dog became quite the center of attention. Once people started walking by, Chase Dog was no longer aimlessly waving and pacing around, but constantly high-fiving passersby. As soon as he raised his hand in anticipation, people seems to walk out of their way to slap five with a person covered completely in blue and white fabric. Awkward freshman, upperclassmen, parents, and exchange students alike had brief but positive interactions with Chase Dog. Even though in reality it was a somewhat commonplace and simple interaction that I witnessed, it would be rather difficult for one's heart to not be warmed by this site. Several other passengers on this bus were also amused to the point of taking photographs.

What is it that fascinates us about dressing people up as mascots? Why is it that I'm generally adverse to them?

Not-So-Guilty Pleasure: Bollywood Hits

Let me begin this post by stating that, in general, I'm no fan of musicals. Or most radio-friendly pop music. Something about the insanely high levels of production and sugar-coated shell of "perfection" rubs me the wrong way. It seems disingenuous. And then having been bombarded with these two genres of music since my memory formed some-odd twenty years ago has made this music rather grating. I can't tell you how many times I had to listen to cassette tapes of Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals during family road trips--Memory! All alone in the moonlight!--or endure Top 40 Radio’s constant repetition of songs from Dirty Dancing.

But despite all of this, I love Bollywood music. You could easily draw stylistic parallels from Bollywood to both the Musical and Pop music genres, e.g. spontaneous eruptions of song and dance, high production values, likelihood that you will repeatedly hear the same few songs, but these similarities tend not to phase me. Maybe this exception to my "rule" has something to do with the fact that I recently traveled to India for several months. I suppose there is a slight bias there. While in India, I was constantly being bombarded and saturated with pictures and sounds. Every night you could hear music playing loudly in the distance. Every time I turned on the TV I inevitably passed over channels either replaying the musical scenes from popular Bollywood movies a la MTV or song/dance competition shows where contestants performed their favorites a la American Idol. In contrast to the pop music saturation I have been experiencing my whole life, this music sounded fresh to me. Part of my enjoyment of this music is because it is new and fills an absence in my musical preference. Part of it is purely fond memories of a wonderful country.

And to be fair, there are plenty of Bollywood songs that I do not enjoy. I will, however, share with you a few of my favorites that have been bopping in my head for months. Thusly, I will begin some extreme YouTube linkage of videos of songs that I particularly enjoy but in no particular order.

WARNING! You are about to experience videos containing the following: music, lip-syncing, crazy synchronized dance routines, cheese, male leads with the last name Khan, random and unnecessary caucasian extras, disproportionately attractive women whose hair perpetually blows in the wind, and Hindi among other stimuli. If you are faint of heart or are not open to various kinds of music you might be overwhelmed. I will not pay any of your hospital bills.




"Lal Dupatta" from Mujhse Shaadi Karogi

This video conveys almost all of the tropes that I previously listed. It is also the worst perpetrator of the "women whose hair perpetually blows in the wind."




"Jhoot Nahi Bolna: from Aap Ka Suroor

This song hits all the tropes including random white extras. It is probably my least favorite out of the five, though.




"Agar Tum Mil Jao" from Zeher

This video includes a steamy make-out session in the beginning (not so common in Bollywood movies), a lead male crankier than Colin Farrell and a really catchy beat. Since I can't quite understand Hindi I don't know what the girl is singing about but my innate understanding of the female psyche tells me she is upset about something.




"Ajab Si" from Om Shanti Om

Featuring the Recently-Detained-in-an-American-Airport-Because-He-Might-Be-a-Terrorist Shah Rukh Khan pursuing a woman who is clearly a little too young for him.




"Kuch Kuch Hota Hai" from Kuch Kuch Hota Hai

Another video featuring SRK. Oh, I also forgot to mention that Indian people apparently love to dance near mountains.

Moving To A New City

Probably one of the most important first steps in moving to a new city is acting like you've been living there for years. It's like when you are a freshman in high school. I don't know about you people, but I'm pretty sure I tried as hard as I could to memorize where everything was so I wouldn't look like a Stupid Freshman walking the unforgiving halls of Thomas Worthington HS. This lesson was also repeated on a larger scale during the first year of college.

Of course, moving to a new city (and a bigger city at that) poses quite a challenge but also one I am willing to take on. Here are some tips that I have been learning along the way in order to pass myself off as an Authentic Chicagoan:

Use maps discreetly.
The first point is the most obvious. Don't be overt in your map consultations. Duck into alleys or keep it out of the line of sight of passersby. If they find you looking at a map they will immediately judge you and will never accept you as one of their own. You don't want to be the runt that gets mercilessly eaten by hyenas, now do you?

Walk briskly and with purpose.
You don't want to be just strolling along, wandering in a zig-zag all LA DEE DAH DEE DAH. Cityfolk hate this and will yell at you and call you a "tourist," which is about as bad as a racial slur (maybe even worse). Walk like you know what's up. Also keep in mind that if you walk too fast it will have the opposite effect and you will draw attention to yourself by looking like you either have no idea where you are going or are irrationally paranoid of getting mugged in broad daylight.

Don't look up at the buildings.
As big and impressive as they are you must ignore the skyscrapers. The only people that get caught up in the awe and grandeur of tall buildings are tourists and Mary Tyler Moore. There should be no slowing down to look at buildings, no gaping maw, and absolutely no spinning in circles. If you must look at the buildings, pretend you are about to sneeze or that something is in your eye.

Don't look happy. Ever.
In order to truly assimilate into city culture you must be willing to travel the city while looking disinterested and apathetic. At the very least carry a blank expression on your face. This trick is especially imperative when riding on public transportation. Don't make eye contact. Don't smile. Look like you hate your life. That should do the trick.

These tips should get you started.

On a more personal note, I signed a lease for an apartment in Ukrainian Village and will be moving in come early September. I'm rather excited in every respect except for the ridiculous increase in expenses it will must assuredly cause.

Congratulations Graduate!

In the past few days, snarky little phrases have been popping up into my head. Little thoughts. I feel like this is a trend that most young people must be experiencing to some degree because we are so caught up with technological brevity—what, with our text messages, Facebook status updates, and Twitter posts.

I'm currently working out an outlet for these thoughts. Turn it into something a bit creative. This is my first stab at it in this respect. It's not like I haven't done this before though...I spent two years in college scheming up ideas for the campus newspaper's cartoons and then drawing them up. Having a Wacom tablet this time around makes life much easier.

I read this article from Newsweek about how my generation has this inflated sense of self-worth given to us by our parents and society who want us all to feel like the most special person in the universe. That and the fact that we've never really had to deal with war or social struggle like our parents (Vietnam, Civil Rights Movement, etc.) or our grandparents (Great Depression, World War II, etc.). This article struck a chord with me as I consistently observe the behavior of my peers and I could most certainly relate. Not that I am exempting myself from this behavior entirely.

Many of these snarky little thoughts I've been thinking up have seemed to align with this narcissism complex my peers and I are having, but in a way that is making a stab at them rather then being in their support. So. Maybe this is the direction these will be taking.

Also, I'm debating moving this blog over to Tumblr because it seems to be more well-designed and fitting for repeated posts of photographs and art. Blogger gets a bit buggy and I have to sometimes circumvent the problem in order to get things the way I want.

Ironically Underwater

The story behind this is that a couple weeks ago in the mail came the Urban Outfitters Late Spring '09 Catalog. I believe they mail this to my mother because she has ordered a few things in the past to send to my brother in Los Angeles. So I start flipping through it and notice how obnoxious the whole feel of it is. It's photos of mostly the same models over and over (the girl below is basically half the catalog) in mostly goofy clothing where things are either tight and short or they're loose and saggy. Everyone has these vacant, apathetic but sexual stares. There's a couple good ones of this dude: in one of which he looks like he just farted, the other he looks like he's about to sneeze.

So basically I thought it'd be fun to make a little collage of sorts, to take the image and manipulate it or add doodles along with it to make it more ridiculous. Lord only knows what one could do if they got a hold of an American Apparel catalog. That'd be gold mine.

I'm planning on continuing this project and hopefully the further I delve into it, the more creative and interesting the pieces become.






















Ironically Underwater