BETA layout changes... (to adhere to software terminology)

thanks to miguel (who i never asked about using his drawing...is it okay, my man?)

things are getting closer to bearable. give me a couple more days...

-!

Settling back into Evanston

After a couple frantic days down 'round the South, I'm getting re-acquainted with things back home. The spring-like day has inspired me to post a couple great pictures of Chicago. It's more of a picture day.

Cars on Oak



This sadly reminds me of the first Grand Theft Auto Game - sad when pictures remind you less of reality than entertainment.

Girder and Leaf



Taken from the lincoln Park Conservatory. A recent sound installation by Olivia Block was there. Using strictly electronic sounds she simulated water and damp humidity. Worked surprisingly well and I was promptly inspired.

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When I get back trip pictures, they're be much more to see. I think this blog's color scheme is starting to bug me, so be on the look-out for significant design changes.

-Nate.

This weekend, I learned two lessons

1. That fame, and fandom extends beyond memorizing words, buying inordinate crap or trying to touch someone. Instead, when I can't talk to a human being based on the simple fact that I like what they create - I've completely lost my sanity. As Nate says about everything and anything - "Fuck Everything," could fit the bill. Instead, with music I dig, like Superpitcher's Here Comes Love, I must also dig further in - why does it please me so much, rather than just talking about aesthetics. Aesthetics sounds so close to anesthesia. Must not forget...

And so, with "Smart" on my hand and Martha cheering me on, I went cold turkey and didn't talk to the two gents - Michael Mayer and Superpitcher, despite my German-detector being in fine form. Instead, Martha and I just sat there, me gaping at how these two guys could just buy a drink from the bar and have no one notice them. But after 15 minutes of chain-smoking and Superpitcher beginning to look a touch nervous, the crowds arrived. And by the time I realized I should've talked to 'em, I didn't have much to say. I'd been so enthralled by their work, I'd forgotten to be engaged by it. A strange realization, to say the least...

Drowning my anger in beer made me slightly tipsy long before I expected. Throughout the Superpitcher set, I was flabbergasted that he pulled the crowds through with the Shuffle-tech beat. The same beat that just seems so god-awful on "Unter Null" really does move a crowd and work within the club - forget the separation between house and waltz, thank you very much. And so, after the set, I went up to the DJ booth to see Mayer kicking it (who used no vocals for the first half hour too - just killing record after record), and ended up blabbing to Superpitcher.

Using my handy-dandy german skills from my year as an exchange student, I spouted off where I'd stayed, asked about how Cologne's doing and then strung together a glorious tirade of adjectives about his new record. This was absurd, but well, after consuming a tad too much alcohol/substance, I couldn't remember much. S'pitcher was really nice, though, and seemed to understand, but of anything he said, the phrase "you dress sexy" stands out. There's just something about how I hear his music, that the guy himself telling me that makes complete sense. Complimenting in an unexpectedly funny/captivating/strange way. Anyway, that's just my two cents.

2. That I am overly critical of life - thereby forgetting major elements...This was something my good friend from home, Eric Eldon pointed out. But I didn't believe him, because somebody had to do it, and I was better than most, or at least more accustomed than most. But it's a waste of time. I've heard so many people bitch about such insignificant situations in the last couple weeks (please, if you're reading this and believe you're part of the tirade, don't feel guilty...i say this completely matter-of-fact) that i believe it's time for this cynic to become a sunny optimist. Anything that I can do, just to make people rethink the usefulness of their complaints, especially wasting the time of another person. Am I the only one who tries to approach the concept of "not trying to waste other people's time" with anything less than a 2-foot pole?

Okay, I don't put lesson no. 2 up to piss off, give hints to anyone, or anything like that - this is my change in approach to things...it's fun!

A couple more days until Louisiana. Hard not to get a tad excited at this...I must contain excitement and think of beautiful practical jokes....muhahaha!

-Nate D.

311 South Wacker



The tranquility of the sky in this picture kills me - it forces me to see clouds move.


Can You Dance?



Not to cause a drift in the blog, but I do claim this picture as my own, because I remember being impressed with the one or two times I've tried to use Eddy's camera. Almost becomes an homage to TV on the Radio's Young Liars EP. But, no, this was done before... no homages here. none explicit ones at least. leave that to the pretentious bloggers...

--


Swamped with paper-writing and incredible music recently. Makes me want more time to suck in the sweet juices of everything...

Let's recap some promos/albums here (as i'd rather forget my papers/articles)...

blog-o-sphere terminology...the last two weeks of music listening has brought me these notables...

sort of feeling

Xiu Xiu - Fabulous Muscles...despite talking loud shit about Xiu Xiu, i must retract a bit. there's some really good songs here, but i still feel kinda like deftones milked these vocal territories (i must be getting nostalgic for the post-grunge fallout bands...the good ones, at least).

Schneider TM - well, this guy has a couple good songs, but what's with everything else - the expanse of "bleh" the size of a infinitely feedbacked Alvin Lucier sound system.

Tortoise - Have I lost interest in you so quickly? There's just something irritating that so many other people really love this and I feel like I just appreciate it. Not a contest worth participating in...it's like a stupid pissing match, when both people are dehydrated - not a pretty sight, my friends.... fuck the masses. may chicago style post-rock die a death that jazz had to Kenny G. I'm not sure how this is going to happen...

Feeling

The Necks Drive-by - very very nice. just a long post-rock instrumental (ha! hypocrisy mires this blog, and god bless it). Thank you Nick Southall for bringing this sucker to my attention...

Superpitcher Here Comes Love - hmmmm...hard album to pin down. So much good minimal work here...should be embraced by all those "hip" indie kids picking up on trip-hop back 'round 99 with Portishead. you know i'm talking about you!

TV on the Radio The EP was wonderful, and I still hear "Mr. Grieves" but I can't help but keep skipping over tracks on the LP. Not enough to grab onto - doo-wop is nice, but must be done well...whatever "done well" means - the album is too dry to carry itself in the musical territories it explores, i guess. the wet, reverby sound gives the vocals more "umf" and doesn't feel so blatantly "throwback." But still, good. Very great moments and no matter where it's found "Staring at the Sun" sticks out like a tasty thumb (well, i take that back, staring at the sun, by u2 is very scary, and the video is very scary, and bono scares me, like only people aestheticizing politics - no more benefit songs, please...)

Really Feeling

Madvilliany Madlib has reaffirmed my faith in hip-hop in one stroke of aural paint. ah, everything be damned, this album makes me look back incessantly at the Stones Throw web site. If only to see the utterly inspired All Caps video. go to this web site, watch the music video and feel the sunshine in the middle of march.

Junior Boys Although many have mocked this music without realizing it (heh, that's how i like to keep my dignity...) - I'm following through. the LP has leaked to Jess, and that pisses me off. I put pictures in my blog, so I deserve an early album or two...right. let's just say, this album should have a couple taste-makers pushing for it enough to make a big enough buzz for the world to hear...(i think i can hear it coming)...please listen (for me, at least...) to this stuff. it'll make my day, and mebbe yours - think timbaland skidding beats with a croon of well, not-so-sappy Ben Gibbard. Hmm...i am not dissing the Postal Service, but merely putting an alternative out there...

Arthur Russell - Some great reissues coming out right now. Not sure whether an avant-garde celloist dabbling in dubbed-out disco sounds enticing to many - but if it does, trust me, this is your bag. World of Arthur Russell is a good primer.

Strictly Kev The History of the Mash-up, is a very beautiful concept indeed. With spoken sections from Burroughs to Zinn to Beyonce singing Crazy in Love to jazzy swing to "Ask Not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your (gun shot)" to Kelis singing "Baby I got your money" over gangsta's ball. Anyway, let's just say, if you like mash-ups, this could really burn down the house...

(a story: part one, anticipation)

We entered the four seasons, or at least meant to enter the promised land. Instead, we walked inside into to two busboys and the employee (read: wrong) door. Our second attempt landed us within a supremely ornate atmosphere, lush with that old time glamorous feel. It’s the kind of place I’d expect Jennifer Lopez to traverse, while singing “I’m still Jenny from the Block.”

The lobby looked small – not as small as some places I’d been in, but also empty. It was the front area, the furnishing room – the vacuum preparation chamber. However, we were presented an elevator to get to the real hotel – on the 35th floor. Strange sense of metropolis fritz langian decadence poured over me, like i’d been transported to Berlin, a city still riding the success of the 20’s. Anyway, as we enter the elevator (assisted to the task, mind you), Eddy promptly utters “i forgot to dress up” blankly, and I realized I hadn’t forgotten, let alone thought about dressing up. I don’t think about these things, and my jean jacket and Chicago-wind proof sweater fit the bill.

(it always fits the bill, that’s why i always wear it, like a badge)

It’s here that our interview with Charlie and Michel was situated. Given my fear of heights, I nervously traversed when arriving on the 35th floor lobby. I couldn’t help but hold my breath longer than normal. Eddy talked up Dawn of the Dead with the other student journalists while we waited and I looked around to see who would hear him. But the halls were big and few waltzed by.

2:30 rolled around and we were given the cue to go upstairs for the interview. We huddled in the elevator, I entering last. I decided to not turn around and instead examine the competition and was greeted by semi-nervous faces. These people could take the heat, but still kept the uneasy anticipation of youth babies.

By the 60th floor, though, the spaces were smaller and I felt more comfortable with the hallways – a place I’d seen in many hotels. Our interview was situated in a conference room. It was an impressive place, with a couple publicists on the side.

The room had a great view of the Chicago city-line and the no cameras policy irked Eddy endlessly – I could see him sizing up the camera in his bag, determining the best odds of getting a couple skyline shots without getting kicked out of the interview. My response instead was to examine the plastic water bottles. The bottles had real metal slips to hold them. ‘What class’ I muttered.

We waited; Eddy claimed his territory next to Gondry in the front. Readying himself for a fight, he preemptively struck. Instead, the room made awkward chit-chat, agreeing to question the two in an orderly fashion. This broke some of the earlier tension – people were going to play “fair.”

In the back, publicists were talking about Scooby-Doo 2. “The first one was so great”

to those wondering why i have only a couple blog-links up, and some rather random...

here's a quote from simon reynolds (one of my favorite music critics)...

"i went through a phase recently of feeling nostalgic for boredom, the kind you felt as a suburban child in the uk in the 70s -- the utter sense of privation experienced on a Sunday around 6 PM when it was just religious programmes... the dearth of stimuli... tv used to go off in the afternoons, there was just a testcard... no night time tv... no web, none of the surfeit distractions kids today have... it was almost spiritual, the sense of oppression weighing on the soul, nothing to relieve the tedium... it was enriching in the sense that you were forced to develop an imagination to survive it"

this is beautiful. be on the lookout for the explosion of links...

(ps. happy birthday miguel - a picture is on it's way from your last birthday)

Happy Birthday, Dear Eddy of 20 years...

Here's a link to cheer you up, maybe i'll find the actual pillow some day (maybe ask the artist, you know...)

http://www.luckymountain.com/cone_01.html

as for other things...

just a couple pictures to celebrate...



creepy beautiful, Road with Rain, questions safety - safety in our own lives, and safety of the cameraman, driving and trying to take a picture in such conditions - this is keeping it real.




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and, eddy displaying the countdown, yes, one is the magic number, the amount left before he can become a true adult...ahhh



"yes my friends, one year left or one more to go...however you see it, the struggle to achieve such standing weighs down upon a young one at the age of 20.




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and...

to wrap things up...


a perfect birthday celebration for an (outside bowie) blog demands Bowie Fans Uniting.



Cheers!

although my 'nails scratching blackboard' tic is the sound of cardboard ripping...

i must say, the feeling of utter hopelessness can be found with pruned hands (from washing dishes) and touching fleece. 'ouch' cannot describe it.

insert existential questions about becoming a house-wife here...

have you heard this before?

despite the news being more eddy's territory, i found the recent report too difficult to stomach (and my stomach often holds nice amounts of whiskey...etc. etc.)

Earlier, the Bush administration vigorously denied that Aristide was kidnapped by U.S. troops, which is what two U.S. members of Congress said the deposed Haitian president told them in telephone calls.

"That's nonsense," White House press secretary Scott McClellan said. "I've seen some of the reports [and they] do nothing to help the Haitians move forward to a better, more prosperous future."

please explain what 'prosperous future' means to you.

nate deyoung found out today...he is...



"your silhouette is so stationary..."

quiz created by neondisease

Which David Bowie single are you?