Ya, I'm really far behind.
Day 1
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Jeff Buckley
I've been geeking out on Jeff Buckley tonight. Hard. It's such a tragic story. But let's not dwell on that. His music lives on. I was recently in Amoeba Records in San Francisco, and the "Buckley, Jeff" section took up at least three rows. I think Lou Reed got two. For a man who only released one studio album, this is quite a feet.
Do you have Grace? Live At Sin-e? No? What the hell is wrong with you? Get them. Both. Now. I could go on and on, but I'll try to keep it brief.
Grace. Released in 1994, it was his only studio album. The true power of every song rings through loud and clear. You can just feel Buckley putting every once of himself into every note on the record. Never have I heard a record convey the true passion of an artist better than this one. It even translates through his amazing band on the album. Every snare hit, every bass line: you feel it deep inside of you. It is truly amazing.
This is the first record I listened to when I finally set up my turn table in Minneapolis. It was late one weekend night and I had somewhere to be. The volume was up and it caught me off guard, but it sucked me in right away. I sat on my couch in awe. Engulfed truly in sonic Grace. I think I listened to the first side twice before I flipped the record over. I was late to wherever I was going, but needless to say, it was worth it. That night I wanted to go out and make some serious memories. Make some real connections.
Live at Sin-e. The one you need here is the legacy edition. It was originally released in 93 as an ep, but an extended version was released later with two discs. It was recorded at a tiny club in the East Village called Sin-e in 1993. It is interesting to hear some early versions of songs that would eventually end up on Grace, but what really shines here are his many covers. He plays everything from Bob Dylan to Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, Van Morrison to traditional African hymns, and ever so famously, Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah. Once again, the sense of raw emotion is clearly audible throughout.
He recreates some of his favorite artists material, a brave thing to do, especially as a young artist. He transforms Cohen's original spoken word verses and gospel-sung choruses into a beautifully sad ballad conjuring biblical allusions and personal strife. I have very very vivid memories of hearing this song for the first time.
He trades Dylan's "so it goes tone" in If You See Her, Say Hello for one that recalls a man battling his acceptance of a lost love. You know he means he is over it, but it still hurts him. It hurts that she is gone, and it hurts that he is kind of ok with that. But what hurts the most is the fact that he can not fully let go of the idea of her and what they had. He keeps some of it with him at all times, even though he knows it tears him up inside. He holds onto some foolish hope for the future. It's not to say that Dylan doesn't say this- if nothing else, through his lyrics- but through Buckley's delivery, he brings new sadness to the subject.
One of my favorite covers on the record however, Buckley does not stray far from the original. The song is called Calling You. Originally featured in a film called Baghdad Cafe, it does one of my favorite things a song can do. It puts you in place you've never seen, but a place you have been before. The subject matter is very specific, but the theme is universal. As a listener, you feel as though you are on that hot dry road. You can taste the sand in your teeth. You know what the people in the song are going through, because you have experienced it yourself. Once again, this is further heightened by Buckley's powerful delivery.
I provided a few examples of the covers. Listen to the originals too. A good cover can not exist without a solid base to build upon. But really, do yourself a favor and get these albums. Listen to Grace as loud as you can, and listen to Sin-e in bed, by yourself. So much for keeping it brief.
Do you have Grace? Live At Sin-e? No? What the hell is wrong with you? Get them. Both. Now. I could go on and on, but I'll try to keep it brief.
Grace. Released in 1994, it was his only studio album. The true power of every song rings through loud and clear. You can just feel Buckley putting every once of himself into every note on the record. Never have I heard a record convey the true passion of an artist better than this one. It even translates through his amazing band on the album. Every snare hit, every bass line: you feel it deep inside of you. It is truly amazing.
This is the first record I listened to when I finally set up my turn table in Minneapolis. It was late one weekend night and I had somewhere to be. The volume was up and it caught me off guard, but it sucked me in right away. I sat on my couch in awe. Engulfed truly in sonic Grace. I think I listened to the first side twice before I flipped the record over. I was late to wherever I was going, but needless to say, it was worth it. That night I wanted to go out and make some serious memories. Make some real connections.
Live at Sin-e. The one you need here is the legacy edition. It was originally released in 93 as an ep, but an extended version was released later with two discs. It was recorded at a tiny club in the East Village called Sin-e in 1993. It is interesting to hear some early versions of songs that would eventually end up on Grace, but what really shines here are his many covers. He plays everything from Bob Dylan to Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, Van Morrison to traditional African hymns, and ever so famously, Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah. Once again, the sense of raw emotion is clearly audible throughout.
He recreates some of his favorite artists material, a brave thing to do, especially as a young artist. He transforms Cohen's original spoken word verses and gospel-sung choruses into a beautifully sad ballad conjuring biblical allusions and personal strife. I have very very vivid memories of hearing this song for the first time.
He trades Dylan's "so it goes tone" in If You See Her, Say Hello for one that recalls a man battling his acceptance of a lost love. You know he means he is over it, but it still hurts him. It hurts that she is gone, and it hurts that he is kind of ok with that. But what hurts the most is the fact that he can not fully let go of the idea of her and what they had. He keeps some of it with him at all times, even though he knows it tears him up inside. He holds onto some foolish hope for the future. It's not to say that Dylan doesn't say this- if nothing else, through his lyrics- but through Buckley's delivery, he brings new sadness to the subject.
One of my favorite covers on the record however, Buckley does not stray far from the original. The song is called Calling You. Originally featured in a film called Baghdad Cafe, it does one of my favorite things a song can do. It puts you in place you've never seen, but a place you have been before. The subject matter is very specific, but the theme is universal. As a listener, you feel as though you are on that hot dry road. You can taste the sand in your teeth. You know what the people in the song are going through, because you have experienced it yourself. Once again, this is further heightened by Buckley's powerful delivery.
I provided a few examples of the covers. Listen to the originals too. A good cover can not exist without a solid base to build upon. But really, do yourself a favor and get these albums. Listen to Grace as loud as you can, and listen to Sin-e in bed, by yourself. So much for keeping it brief.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Update
Tucker took a really great photo, but that looks much better, doesn't it?
As I'm sure all of you know, I've been on the road for about a month now. Don't get it twisted,, it fucking rules and I'm having the time of my life, but I miss all my friends back home and the perfect Minneapolis days that go on right about now. See you all in July.
I'm in San Diego right now. Gonna hit the beach. Booyah. Vegas tomorrow. Should I bet red or black?
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Party Time
Going Away/Birthday Party
Friday 05/01/09
Let's say 10ish
You know where
BYOB
Holler
I leave on Wednesday. Proper update soon. New blog just for that too.
Friday 05/01/09
Let's say 10ish
You know where
BYOB
Holler
I leave on Wednesday. Proper update soon. New blog just for that too.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
I Woke Up Early On My Born Day
I'm 23. It's a blessing.
Thanks everyone. I'm ready to start a new chapter. Let's do this.
Thanks everyone. I'm ready to start a new chapter. Let's do this.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Stay
Sorry in advance if this gets heavy.
If you know me, and chances are if you are reading this, you do, you know I don't really talk about the music I write too much offstage. I don't think I do at least. But lately I've kind of been thinking a lot about Shoreline and all we did. What it meant to me. I'll tell you, it meant everything to me. It was all I thought about at times. It was all I ever really wanted to do. Like some "what do you want to do with your life" type shit. I wanted to be in Shoreline and that's it. As you probably know, that has been interrupted by the death of my best friend Kevin. I don't know if that means the end of Shoreline, but for right now, it is on hold.
I have avoided for a long time really talking about it, but truth be told, that really bums me out. All I want to do, especially right this instance, is plug in my Jazzmaster, turn it way up, and play the song Stay with Kevin, Craig, and Slanga. Really fucking loud. That song was always my favorite to play. We usually started practice with that song. It was one of the first songs I wrote for Shoreline. It was so simple. I play three chords the whole time, but it was always one I connected to the most. I felt it the most. The lyrics started out as one thing, but evolved into the way the song sings now. That lyrics holds more weight now than ever. I've said it before, but when I write songs, they aren't always autobiographical. It's always really interesting when they become autobiographical. I need to start writing songs about people coming up on a bunch of money, or inventing really dope shit or something instead of writing about things like heartbreak and loss.
These are the lyrics to Stay
I'm in love with a voice
You're in love with the noise we make
All around all around on the town
They don't know that it breaks me down
I'm in love with a vice
You're in love with the lies you say
Just to save face when you want
But you can't save me cause I'm gone
Stay above the water
Remain the same as you always were
Leave me standing here on my own
Stay above the water
You come down, we have to choose
One or the other, both of us (I) loose
And I know and I know what you want
But you know and you know that I can't
Stay above the water
Remain the same as you always were
Leave me standing here on my own
Stay above the water
I'll keep you up nights, keep you asking those questions
You can call it a promise
Call it a promise
Stay above the water.
If you want, you can listen to that song here
There is an inherent sadness to the song. A feeling of intensity. But also, a tone of acceptance. That's a hard place to get to. But there is this really calming feeling when you do get there. The song is a sort of good bye. A bookend to a dramatic situation. A denouement of sorts. All these things happened, and that's ok. But it's over now, and we are left with the remains of our actions. And these things, these feelings won't just go away, but that's the way it is. We are left to deal with these consequences on our own.
It's kind of crazy to me how close those words relate to a situation I have recently gone through.
I am really proud of that song. I'm proud of my band for the way it turned out and the way we performed it. I'm glad it exists. At the very least, it means a lot to me. Right now. And that is enough. Listening to this song makes me really happy and really sad at the same time. For a number of reasons. That's an ok thing I think.
Maybe my public blog isn't the best place to get this out, but that's where I'm putting it. Rock and Roll.
If you know me, and chances are if you are reading this, you do, you know I don't really talk about the music I write too much offstage. I don't think I do at least. But lately I've kind of been thinking a lot about Shoreline and all we did. What it meant to me. I'll tell you, it meant everything to me. It was all I thought about at times. It was all I ever really wanted to do. Like some "what do you want to do with your life" type shit. I wanted to be in Shoreline and that's it. As you probably know, that has been interrupted by the death of my best friend Kevin. I don't know if that means the end of Shoreline, but for right now, it is on hold.
I have avoided for a long time really talking about it, but truth be told, that really bums me out. All I want to do, especially right this instance, is plug in my Jazzmaster, turn it way up, and play the song Stay with Kevin, Craig, and Slanga. Really fucking loud. That song was always my favorite to play. We usually started practice with that song. It was one of the first songs I wrote for Shoreline. It was so simple. I play three chords the whole time, but it was always one I connected to the most. I felt it the most. The lyrics started out as one thing, but evolved into the way the song sings now. That lyrics holds more weight now than ever. I've said it before, but when I write songs, they aren't always autobiographical. It's always really interesting when they become autobiographical. I need to start writing songs about people coming up on a bunch of money, or inventing really dope shit or something instead of writing about things like heartbreak and loss.
These are the lyrics to Stay
I'm in love with a voice
You're in love with the noise we make
All around all around on the town
They don't know that it breaks me down
I'm in love with a vice
You're in love with the lies you say
Just to save face when you want
But you can't save me cause I'm gone
Stay above the water
Remain the same as you always were
Leave me standing here on my own
Stay above the water
You come down, we have to choose
One or the other, both of us (I) loose
And I know and I know what you want
But you know and you know that I can't
Stay above the water
Remain the same as you always were
Leave me standing here on my own
Stay above the water
I'll keep you up nights, keep you asking those questions
You can call it a promise
Call it a promise
Stay above the water.
If you want, you can listen to that song here
There is an inherent sadness to the song. A feeling of intensity. But also, a tone of acceptance. That's a hard place to get to. But there is this really calming feeling when you do get there. The song is a sort of good bye. A bookend to a dramatic situation. A denouement of sorts. All these things happened, and that's ok. But it's over now, and we are left with the remains of our actions. And these things, these feelings won't just go away, but that's the way it is. We are left to deal with these consequences on our own.
It's kind of crazy to me how close those words relate to a situation I have recently gone through.
I am really proud of that song. I'm proud of my band for the way it turned out and the way we performed it. I'm glad it exists. At the very least, it means a lot to me. Right now. And that is enough. Listening to this song makes me really happy and really sad at the same time. For a number of reasons. That's an ok thing I think.
Maybe my public blog isn't the best place to get this out, but that's where I'm putting it. Rock and Roll.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Far From A Mixtape
I feel like I relate to songs a lot more these days. It's a good and bad thing. Not specifically these songs. These tracks however, have been ruling my life lately. One day I'll figure out how to embed mp3s on this damn thing. Until then, just trust me and follow the links.
Kurt Vile - Freeway
Short and sweet. That first line is infectious. It's all you need.
The Shins - Saint Simon
From one of my all time favorite records. I think it clocks in at just over thirty minutes. This song always reminds me of my sister. Up until about 5 minutes ago, I thought the line was "Lucy's eyes are blue". Turns out it's "Mercy's eyes are blue". Huh, who knew.
Nas - Halftime
I have listened to Illmatic probably one hundred times since my truck broke down. Classic.
Animal Collective - Summertime Clothes
This record too. I just can not get sick of it. It's almost hard to listen to right now. There are some serious moments/people/issues attached to this record. This song especially.
The National - Slow Show
This band does no wrong. Why this song? Why not? They all rule.
Sam Roberts - Them Kids
Honest pop music. Hard to come by such a good jam.
Beirut - Postcards From Italy
The horn line towards the end of this song sounds like how it would feel to have a rainbow shining down on you. Thats some of the gayest shit I've ever said, but its glorious. Triumphantly sad. Beautiful.
Van Morrison - Everyone
From another great record. This is one of those jams like I said before that I can relate to. (Sorry, I can't find a good stream of this one. Go dig through your parents record collection and listen to Moondance like seven times through. It'll be good for you.)
Phoenix - 1901
These dudes make writing pop songs look easy. Watch out for this record. I have a feeling it will sit right towards the top of a lot of year end lists.
Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Hysteric
An excellent track from as far as I can tell an excellent record. Moving out of the garage and onto the dance floor. Welcome Karen and friends. It's nice to have you here.
Harlem Shakes - Strictly Game
I've only heard one other song from this band and it is great too. There's a line in here that kind of sums up being young if you ask me. Let me know if you can find it. It's not "I'm sick of holding on to nothing when I just want to hold your hips", but I'll be damned if that's not a properasfuck line.
Bonus Jam
Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova - Into the Mystic
A Van Morrison cover. Beautifully executed.
In other news, blogger is slowly becoming more and more of a bitch to deal with. I am leaving in 27 days, and on the real, that shit ca't come soon enough. The Plat Lite is really great. Fuck 2009. Yes, still. I will be needing addresses to send you all postcards. Get em to me. I think there will be a party on May 2nd. Tired of whining to my friends. Sorry guys, and thanks. Trying not to whine to the internet. My bike is up and running. It's getting nice out. Fuck yes.
Kurt Vile - Freeway
Short and sweet. That first line is infectious. It's all you need.
The Shins - Saint Simon
From one of my all time favorite records. I think it clocks in at just over thirty minutes. This song always reminds me of my sister. Up until about 5 minutes ago, I thought the line was "Lucy's eyes are blue". Turns out it's "Mercy's eyes are blue". Huh, who knew.
Nas - Halftime
I have listened to Illmatic probably one hundred times since my truck broke down. Classic.
Animal Collective - Summertime Clothes
This record too. I just can not get sick of it. It's almost hard to listen to right now. There are some serious moments/people/issues attached to this record. This song especially.
The National - Slow Show
This band does no wrong. Why this song? Why not? They all rule.
Sam Roberts - Them Kids
Honest pop music. Hard to come by such a good jam.
Beirut - Postcards From Italy
The horn line towards the end of this song sounds like how it would feel to have a rainbow shining down on you. Thats some of the gayest shit I've ever said, but its glorious. Triumphantly sad. Beautiful.
Van Morrison - Everyone
From another great record. This is one of those jams like I said before that I can relate to. (Sorry, I can't find a good stream of this one. Go dig through your parents record collection and listen to Moondance like seven times through. It'll be good for you.)
Phoenix - 1901
These dudes make writing pop songs look easy. Watch out for this record. I have a feeling it will sit right towards the top of a lot of year end lists.
Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Hysteric
An excellent track from as far as I can tell an excellent record. Moving out of the garage and onto the dance floor. Welcome Karen and friends. It's nice to have you here.
Harlem Shakes - Strictly Game
I've only heard one other song from this band and it is great too. There's a line in here that kind of sums up being young if you ask me. Let me know if you can find it. It's not "I'm sick of holding on to nothing when I just want to hold your hips", but I'll be damned if that's not a properasfuck line.
Bonus Jam
Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova - Into the Mystic
A Van Morrison cover. Beautifully executed.
In other news, blogger is slowly becoming more and more of a bitch to deal with. I am leaving in 27 days, and on the real, that shit ca't come soon enough. The Plat Lite is really great. Fuck 2009. Yes, still. I will be needing addresses to send you all postcards. Get em to me. I think there will be a party on May 2nd. Tired of whining to my friends. Sorry guys, and thanks. Trying not to whine to the internet. My bike is up and running. It's getting nice out. Fuck yes.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
