The Best Show on WFMU with Mixed Fruit Kabobs, Falafels, and a Day Spent Holidaying It Up.

I've been lost for a while, as you might have noticed. Last week I just got so bundled up with work and studying and work and dinner and bad television and pumpkins and everything that I just kind of forgot to post . . . anything. So I am finally picking it back up where I left off (not actually) finally. 

Well I can't really tote any music choices right now . . . because right now I'm catching back up on my "The Best Show on WFMU" via podcast because I haven't been able to listen to them live the last two weeks. Well, there's not much I can say about the show (its one of those that you need to listen to to experience it). 

Hmm. Well now, I'm going to go, I've got some laundry that needs to be done . . . and then I'm going to make some falafels (woot) and . . . I don't know . . . chopped apples, pear, banana, and strawberry kabobs . . . maybe with some dark chocolate inter-kabobed between the fruit. After that I'll be going all suburbia and putting up the fall seasonal decor around the house. You know, the cornucopia on the table, the pumpkins on the porch, and everything. 

This weekend I went out and bought like a million pumpkins (because I love pumpkins seeds baked with cinnamon) and the gourd vines I planted in the backyard have yielded quite a bit. I bought some last year (some gourd squash) and I've dried them out this year for me to make bird houses with (yay!). This being the first year that I haven't lived in the city, meaning that I now have a yard with trees, I can actually hang my bird house out in the yard. Real Meaning: I'm going to totally craft it up!  

Well sheesh, I have to go and study . . . I've got a couple of tests coming up . . . and I have to write, write, write. Whatever. John's going to go crazy if he finds out I'm making falafels . . . but who cares?

The 'rents came over this weekend . . . it was amazing!

The 'rents came over this weekend . . . it was amazing! 

I suppose I should make multiple corrections to the previous sentence . . . first of all, my 'rents did not come . . . because . . . well, my mother is no longer alive . . . and my father, well, I haven't spoken to him since I was sixteen and moved away to live with my mother and go to college. So, it was John's parents that came over and stayed in our guest room (that I thankfully had furnished when we moved in!) . . . the second correction . . . it was not amazing. 

It was rather stressful. John kept freaking out, which would stress me out . . . which would freak him out even more . . . and so on. But in the end I guess the stress wasn't really worth it, because everything worked out well . . . John would say however that the only reason it worked out was because he did stress out so much . . . but whatever. 

The next time I write I will finally get back to the ongoing Library selections . . . as I wasn't able to listen to any music this weekend . . . for the obvious reasons (i.e. John would have flipped out). 

Dressy Bessy: What I Go and Listen to on a Friday Night to Get a Drink and Forget About the 'Rents.

The post for today covers Dressy Bessy, if you couldn't get that from the title . . . duh. I went and saw them on Friday night in Lawrence at the Replay Lounge. They were really loud . . . comparatively to the other bands that played. Well, I like Dressy Bessy . . . I mean they're nice to listen to and everything . . . the only reason I went was because I had to stay late in Lawrence and was coerced by a friend . . . and I thought, "Hey! I'm already going to be staying here late, so might as well go to a bar listen to some Dressy Bessy and get a drink . . . because I sure know that I'll be savoring the need for this drink over the weekend when John's parent's are here."

 

So yeah, that's all I have to say, because . . . well, there isn't much for me to add. Okay?

Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah: Why Don't You Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah!

I am going to be ending the theme of yesterday, which was full of many UK artists and etc, by starting up today/tonight with some posts on another of my favorites, (I know the words favorite become redundant when you have too many, but hey, give me a break), Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah! I written about them before . . . and I might have even mentioned how Alec Ounsworth is god. 

But more to the point (not the Ounworth's godliness is not a point . . . ), Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah is music for . . . I dunno . . . driving in Alaska? I'm only saying that because I'm currently compiling some road trip music for mine and John's vacation to Alaska in a couple of weeks (yeah, I think I forgot to mention, John and I are going backpacking in Alaska! Woot?) and my road music from the whole Oregon-Washington-Canada-Alaska portion of the trip has an overwhelming amount of Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah in it . . . I suppose I still have a couple kinks to work out with it. 

But really picture this: "Some Loud Thunder" or "The Skin of My Yellow Country Teeth" playing as we zip through the northwestern countryside . . . full of tall spruce trees and that muggy wet weather . . . it's kind of refreshing to think about . . . or at least I think it is. 

Oh, and I'm not going to post any pictures . . . because well, I'm tired of it . . . and I'm sure I posted some before so, if you really want to see some godly Alec Ounsworth, search the archives . . . or do it the easy way and just Google image search him . . . duh!

Belle & Sebastian: What Makes a Mean-Spirited Morning Full of Bad Facial Expressions and Hand Gestures, Without Due Cause, Better.

Belle & Sebastian. I've written about these folk before . . . or at least I believe I have  . . . and if not, I'm crazy to not have done so before.  I love them! Absolutely! I love them so much that I had John order me some merchandise via the Internet and have it shipped across the seas . . . which price-wise might seem like a complete mistake . . . but I have to say my Belle & Sebastian coffee cup is my favorite coffee cup . . . even if I only drink tea from it. 

I believe I wrote in my previous post some spiel how Belle & Sebastian is for those times when I'm in one want of all things pure and innocent (kind of like a way to cleanse my soul) which is kind of ironic . . . since the subject matter of their songs is sometimes a little less than pure . . . and probably questionable (but hey, I'm no ninny)  . . . it's just the sound, though . . . it's the sound of something pure, and because of both of these qualities it makes great driving music. 

My favorite instance where Belle & Sebastian is perfect: It's about 7:30 in the morning maybe a little earlier at 7:00 or a little later at 8:00, but not much past those times. You're in you're car on a morning commute 30 miles away . . . driving down the lanes of roadway past the 'burbs . . . there's a light layer of snow coating the ground and your windshield, windows still have patches of frost and ice stuck to them because you didn't have enough time to defrost the car before you left . . . at this time you have some light B&S playing in the background maybe something like "If You Find Yourself Caught in Love" maybe a little "Lord Anthony"  . . . then you finally get to the big road exchange that'll take you to the highway for the longer extent of the commute, and right when your about to pull off onto the highway . . . about to merge into oncoming traffic . . . you can't. Why? Because somebody from these damn Midwestern states is driving 25 mph on the highway, completely freaking out about the snow layer and on the ground that was left over from a snowy incident four days prior . . . they don't even try to switch over to the many other four lanes, with virtually no traffic on them, to allow you to merge . . . therefore, you have to break, come to a stop, and allow them to pass . . . and then while they're passing they become rather rude, flash you a mean glare and rather rude hand gesture . . .  enragement (yeah I know it's not a word) on your side ensues . . . allowing that the light side of B&S no longer fits, so you can immediately switch over to something like "Judy and The Dream of Horses, " We Are the Sleepyheads", or even "Dear Catastrophe Waitress" to better suit the mood. 

Of course, this situation is clearly circumstantial . . . and applies really only to . . . well, me, but hey, it still fits . . . and I'd say try it if you ever happen to . . . but I know nobody else will ever happen to be in the same.  Therefore, I will pacify you with pictures for making you read such a long and pointless story. 

So, yeah. It's dinner time . . . yes, John and I are eating an early dinner, because John's practicing with his whole multi-course dinners . . . you salad, soup, dessert . . . main entrees and everything . . . all because his parent's are coming over for a weekend stay (this weekend . . . I've forgotten to tell) and unlike last time we're not going to take them out to eat . . . but instead will be staying in to highlight the new kitchen John has to work his magic in. He's making some crazy traditional Norwegian cuisine . . . to impress them (probably to say hey, I still remember the homeland or something . . . (sheesh, that was kind of mean-spirited of me . . . it was all said in jest)). Anyways, we'll see how it goes . . . hopefully well. 

Burial: Why People Drive at Night and End Up Stopping at Those Fluorescently Lit Diners With French Fries and Diet Cola.

Now with this musician, I am actually still sticking to the UKian theme, despite the fact that its no longer indie pop that's being discussed . . . it more like . . . electronica dance music. With this I can say that I don't exactly know how/why I went from indie pop to well, this, but I did. Truth be told, I'm not a huge electronica dance beat music kind of person . . . I don't really get into it. However, in writing about this I will try to be unbiased and everything. 

Therefore, I will use the easy simple metaphor in trying to describe my feelings towards this . . . the road trip mix metaphor. On the normal long haul road trip (equalling more than 24 hours of driving, with appropriate and properly planned and decided mixes . . . not like those ones that 16 year old girls make to drive around with their gal-pals when they get their first car . . . because we can all agree those kind of mixes totally . . . suck?) this would be placed at nighttime (because, it is dance music, duh, therefore equalling too abrasive for the morning and too timid for the afternoon) while driving down one of those outer city limits highways . . . that are moderately devoid of traffic, but since it's in the sprawling outskirt suburbs of the big city, the highway/interstate is still lined with the yellow and white light emitted from the torch-like lanterns hanging over the roadway . . . to make the scene better, I will apply a few other things to emphasize the mood (these are just add-ins that can't be anticipated when making a driving mix like this). Here for effect, the roadway would be slightly wet . . . moistened from an afternoon of misty rain, with the air still smelling slightly of humidity and rising gasoline and oil fumes . . . causing a slightly halo-ed affect due to the light cast by the overhead lanterns . . . and making the road lines hard to see, causing a late night stop right on the outskirts at some fluorescently lit diner serving french fries and diet cola . . . 

Okay, so I might have let myself get carried away . . . but what I just describe is the exact mood of this music . . . and as always try it out if you don't believe me . . . meanwhile look at some pictures to let it soak in. 

So, I should go now . . . and you know, let it sink in some more . . . because I doubt it fully has still. 

Camera Obscura: Why They Set the Perfect Scene for Providing the Ultimate Showering Entertainment.

To keep up with the UKian theme of the last two posts, I am going to be writing about some Camera Obscura now (and probably some Belle & Sebastian . . . The Divine Comedy . . . The Pogues . . . after that, I suppose it's really what I'm comfortable listening to at the moment . . .  which who knows, could be some, I dunno Talib Kweli? or Funkadelic? (I'm just trying the think of a complete opposite to Camera Obscura . . . didn't work out well)). 

So, Camera Obscura . . . I briefly . . . and confusingly (maybe) mentioned in my last post that Camera Obscura gets me through the stress of showering, and I suppose I should follow that statement with one saying that it was/is completely true.  Camera Obscura is music for the shower, at least for me . . . My brother, back in the day, bought me one of those waterproofed CD players (outdated now, I know, but hey, it still works!) so I could listen to stuff in the shower and be able to hear it, unlike when you pull the boombox out and set it up on the bathroom sink, turn up the volume to max, and hope that you'll still be able to hear it when the shower's running . . . apparently he though that if I used this, it would solve that problem and make one not want to eh, sing in the shower? Anyways, nowdays . . . I just use a rotation of Camera Obscura CD's (I have all the released albums, Let's Get Out of This Country, Biggest Bluest Hi-Fi, Underachievers Please Try Harder, and their EP, Rare UK Bird) 

Now I know you're questioning me, but really everything I'm saying is true . . . Camera Obscura is the ultimate showering music . . . it's mellow enough so that you're not tempted to fall asleep (if you're ever tempted to fall asleep in the shower) but abrasive enough so that you're not tempted to lounge around use more water (that valuable resource, you know) than needed to make yourself clean again. If you don't believe me try it out, Camera Obscura works to time the perfect shower. 

Weren't those enjoyable? I especially loved the one of the showerhead system (of which, I actaully had installed during the new home renovations . . . a bit pricey, but totally worth it . . . it's like I'm being showered by a raincloud, which equals wonderful). I also choose to go with a little bit of irony, but I'm not going to get into it for those that don't get it, because it's really not worth it . . . really. 

Good Shoes: Why I Can Never Find the Right Pair of Shoes Mixed with an Appropriate Snippet About Los Campesinos!.

So I feel bad, for not commenting much on Los Campesinos! yesterday, therefore I will be throwing a minor snippet in with this post about Good Shoes (yeah, I was totally playing up a horribly bad pun with the title . . . reality though, I never can find the right pair of shoes . . . sheesh). Anyways, I have their (Los Campesinos!) album Hold on Now, Youngster . . . and their EP Sticking Fingers into Sockets, from which their Pavement cover of "Frontwards" is on . . . which if you can't tell I adore . . . because yeah . . . I like Pavement . . . uhh, yeah. I'm getting off track a little bit I guess, so back to Los Campesinos!, rather than Pavement. This is music for the the working day, whenever I'm spending one of those long nights at the office (despite the fact that its not a office). For instance last year at this time during those long night grading papers while being snowed in on the weekends . . .  this was the comfort music that made me not want to poke my eyes out due to the large number of syntax errors (I mean really who forgets to capitalize "I" over and over again . . . especially when the essay's suppose to be written in third person? AH!).  

NOW: Back to the real theme of this post . . . Good Shoes. Now, this is good blog writing music . . . or even just writing music in general. Flashback to last fall again: just after I got over that string of stomach flu and shingles (on my face, AH!) I was dealing with tons of writing and research . . . (and more and more of both of those things than I would ever be able to impress upon you)  . . . and to get through the strenuous task of writing about something so over-exhausted/over-researched as what I was writing about (I'm not even going to get into that) I popped on the Good Shoes and made it . . . thankfully! I think its that whole UKian indie pop thing . . . that gets me through things . . . Los Campesinos! for stressful grading . . . Good Shoes for writing . . . Belle & Sebastian for commutes . . . Camera Obscura for (hmmm, I dunno, showers?)  . . . ANYWAYS, I'm getting off topic. 

So, now I suppose this is the pertain of the post that I post a couple pictures to break the monotony and give my typing fingers a tad bit of a break . . . okay?

And now I suppose is where I leave to . . . do something else . . . I think I'm going to take a nap . . . or maybe get some lunch. John didn't have the good graces to pack me another lunch today since I told him yesterday that I didn't/wasn't able to eat the lunch he packed yesterday.  I'm going to get some mango, avocado, plum, pear, grapes . . . and maybe a little banana . . . and chop them up into little chunks before impaling them on long toothpicks to make what I'm calling a fruit explosion shishkabob . . . and yes, it's quite delicious.  

Los Campesinos! : Why a Visual Display Does Best To Describe This Group Rather Than My Words . . . Oh, and They Played Pavement . . . Total Plus.

Rather than try to describe Los Campesinos! with words, I am going to provide a visual display instead . . . and if I can get the technical issues worked out . . . I'm going to provide a Widget that will be able to provide a sampling of the artist that I am talking about for the day . . . or something like that. Enjoy this for now?

Yeah . . . kind of wasn't worth it, huh? Thought so, I should work on this more . . . because I really do love Los Campesinos! . . . I mean, they covered a Pavement song . . . which equals cool in all ways, duh!

The Thermals: What Makes a Kickin' Weekend Kickin" (In Other Words: What Brightens a Day?)

So, yeah . . . I'm a sucker for those indie rock bands . . . like The Thermals. Hmmm . . . The Thermals are music for two occasions: the first being, rainy (and by rainy, I mean it's been raining for three days straight and there's now a river coming through your back yard now because the ground's no longer able to keep up with it) days in the summer and the second being snowy (and by snowy I mean there's at least a foot of snow and you're running around in it building awesome snow men and women with carrots for noses and igloos in it) days in the winter. For some reason, for me at least, these are the days when this music works the most . . . so, well, watch out, for these days (as they are rare and few) and when they happen to come along . . . pop some of The Thermals on and enjoy. 

Eye Vomit: 

Hmmm . . . I suppose I have nothing else to say . . . other than, this is my third post for today (I think) and well, I suppose I should stop for today . . . I haven't had any lunch and well, John had the good graces to pack me a lunch today (in a brown paper sack and everything). Too bad that I got home before lunchtime and there had no reason to pull out the paper sack at work/school/whatever. Now, I'm going to go and open it up and check out what goodies lie inside . . . I hope it's pita and hummus . . . and mango . . . no some plum . . . no mangoes AND plums . . . maybe a little banana on the side . . . yum. 

The Hold Steady: Why I Would Totally Want To Go To the Chillout Tent and Get Some Oranges and Cigarettes.

And this . . .  a far cry from MGMT, but . . . this one was high on my play count for the weekend . . . and for well, for forever. The Hold Steady . . . yeah . . . they're kind of awesome . . . wait get rid of that kind of . . . they are awesome. I only have two of their four albums: Boys and Girls in America and Separation Sunday. They kind of remind me of . . . something, something familiar . . . but familiar in one of those good ways, like the smell of charcoal and coffee, not one of those tired and bored ways of repetition. 

For me, I put a good hold of these into a mix for when I went on a road trip to the southwest two years ago . . . this is good "driving-through-the-Moab-Desert-in-100-degrees-of-heat-with-tumble-weed-and-sand-separating-the-road-from-everything-else-during-the-summer" kind of music . . . try it out and you'll find that it totally works. 

Art? Now? Okay?

As you might be able to tell from the title of this post . . . I'm totally into "Chillout Tent" but hey, I'm also into "Cattle and the Creeping Things" and "Southtown Girls." Check them out. 

Yeah, I'm promoting the band . . . whatever. 

MGMT: Why the Mountains are Great in the Morning and Fog When this is on Full Blast. . . and During Every Other Occasion.

So, the weekend is over and now I am back to writing up my musical posts . . . because I have had time to listen and listen and listen to a whole slew of wonderful and okay and not so wonderful stuff. It was beyond enjoyable . . . instead, mildy exciting. 

So, the first artist up is MGMT, of whom I completely adore. This is beyond perfect mix music, it's something that can be listen to as whole on one of those road trips . . . but even if mixed up it fits perfectly as well. My favorite? It'd have to be off their album Oracular Spectacular and the track titled "Kids." This track, is a driving track . . . you know for the mountains and fog . . . for when you're sad and need a spark, but not too much to blow a fuse. AAHHH! It's wonderful in all ways of the word. 

Now for some art: 

Ah, now wasn't that fufilling . . . makes you want to go out and A) listen to the album if you already have it, B) buy the album because you don 't have it, or C) illegally obtain the album because it's worth the risk of prosecution. Any way you go, this is a must-have-listen. Duh!

All Smiles: Why I All About the Smiles . . . Again.

I have already very recently written up my feelings about All Smiles . . . otherwise known as Jim Fairchild, therefore, I will just be reposting that same post . . . even the part about John making dinner . . . because well, I don't want to bother about cutting it out:

"So, yeah . . . I'm not being weird or anything with the title and all; instead, my brother got a (tad bit) little bit eBay crazy, and bought a whole bunch of shit (that for most counts, one could say he never needed) and loaned me half of it . . . one of those item being a CD by All Smiles, otherwise known as Jim Fairchild of Grandaddy, a former band of which put the rock in "rocking your socks off" . . . they're . . . they were . . . AWESOME. Well, anyways, I'm currently to the CD, and yeah, alone he's no Grandaddy (and really he, alone, sounds nothing like the whole collective of the former band he partook in . . . like, it's a completely different genre) but hey, it's still pretty good. I'm digging it at least.

And on that note, I should go . . . dinner in five and John gets perturbed when I skip out on whatever delightful cuisine he's prepared for the night. I suppose he thinks I don't appreciate enough his slaving in the kitchen (if you could it that, since he thoroughly enjoys it.) Eh, I say he can deal."

So yeah, I definitely think it's better the second time around.

All-Time Quarterback! aka Ben Gibbard: Everything Can't and Isn't Meant to be Perfect, So Naturally I Feel I Can't Deal the Hate When it's Due.

All-Time Quarterback! . . . I kind of can't stand Ben Gibbard . . . you know, Death Cab For Cutie, The Postal Service . . . I didn't and don't really like them. The only reason I suppose I have the solo album (whatever they call it) is because this is what you listen to when you're in a self-loathing, hating mood . . . whenever you want to listen to better versions of bad trendy music, because well, you kind of want to experience musically a reason for why you hate the rest of the world.


Yeah, somebody had to say it.

Albert Hammond, Jr. : Sheesh, He has an Enormous Amount of Awkward Punctuation in His Name.

. . . with the punctuation aside, I must say that I thoroughly enjoy the musical attempts of Mr. Hammond, Jr. It's refreshing, his solo career. I've yet to get his new release, and alas only have Yours To Keep. However, I cannot put this in a mix sense, because, well, I have never used it in a mix. I have, however, received it in a mix though . . . where the song selection happened to be placed after something by The Hold Steady.



I suppose now is the appropriate place to say that it seemed oddly placed after something like The Hold Steady . . . bad mixing, man.

Air: What One Pops on the Player During Those Arduous Drives to New Jersey . . . Really, What Else is There?

Air, Air, Air. I only have one of their albums: Moon Safari. To describe it is to use words that I don't actually know of existing. So, I will put it all in relation to my life . . . mixes. If I was to put this in a mix . . . it would be on one of those long 10 hour compilation mixes (meant for drives to places like, say, New Jersey) and it would be positioned on the mix to coincide with the early morning maybe 9 or even 8 . . . because it has enough pizazz to keep a person awake, but is electronic and mellow enough to not bear any brash sounds that a person on a long haul of a drive would not want to hear.

From what I understand, Air is French which I suppose could explain a lot . . . and whatever else I understand . . . is . . . well not that much. Not going to lie, I don't listen to much Air . . . except in the case that I aforementioned . . . and well, I don't do much long-haul driving. Obviously.

A.C. Newman: Sounds for the Daily Commuter in April.

So today is A.C. Newman, of whom one might know as being a front man for the New Pornographers. I suppose this is the best place to start, because, listening to him is like the beginning of a brand-new mix . . . you know, these are the kind of songs that you put at the beginning of a newly configured driving mix for those long commutes to work in April (I know from the experiences of my own life). So, go out, configure a mix, and start driving . . . OR . . . you, could follow the other situation in which his music fits: rain.

Anyways, I'm kind of looking forward to the rest of the day, so I suppose I should go. I'll post more later or whatever . . . you know, whenever something comes to me . . . yeah. 

It Feels Like I Have Bugs Crawling Over My Entire Body: Why I Went To the Drugstore Today and Invested in Multiple Bottles of Hydrocortisone Cream.

I thought that should also write a little bit more than just for the ongoing music selection posts . . . so, obviously, I am doing this for this post. So, I'm getting back into the swing of things . . . back to school (sadly) and "real" work (again, sadly) . . . really I've been back in this swing for a couple of weeks now though . . . and (sadly) it's still not getting better. 

I suppose I could say that it's better than last year though . . . since John and I bought the house the commute has been shortened . . . which makes the drive bearable, and when I get home at night John is usually off work already and because he loves the kitchen so much (still) he usually already has some warm and delicous prepared for dinner . . . which I must so is the most delightful thing a person can meet once once come home: a house full of such wonderful smells and . . . warmth? 

On the issue of warmth, I am thnakful to say that the weather is getting extremely better . . . or at least has been. Yesterday when I walked outside to leave, I stopped, shivered (yes, I actually shivered outside in August), and had to go back inside and get a jacket . . . all of which is completely enjoyable to me . . . if not a little bit diconcerting as, well, it's never 50 degrees at 11:00 in the afternoon in August here . . . it's like last winter when the temperature went up to 75 over the holidays . . . terribly disconcerting. But hey, I'm not going to get into a big spiel on global climate change . . . because it'll just put me in a huff and won't make me able to enjoy the freshly baking fruit pastries that John is currently baking in the oven. 

On a light note then, climate might be changing, but the areas local fauna problem is not . . . and when I say fauna, I do not mean deer or skunk or squirrel . . . I'm talking about bugs . . . lots and lots of bugs . . . and the many many bug bites that accompany them. Furthermore, I'm talking about the MILLIONS of bug bites that I have covering my body right now. At first I thought I was breaking out in another rash of shingles (see some of my very early posts for more details) but then it turned otu all the hives like bumps coating my ankles, legs, and stomach were not the beginning of a very large shingle outbreak . . . but instead the beginning of millions of little bug bites that would threaten to have me itch myself raw . . . and I must say I nearly would have if John had not intervened halfway through last night when he woke up to the sound of me thrashing about trying to itch the itch out.  His solution: a tube of hyrocortisone cream not nearly large enough to cover the surface area of all of my bites . . . but eh, at least he tried. Today, I went to the drug store and invested in a much larger bottle. 

Anyways I should go then . . . you know, reapply some anti-itch cream, eat some of those wonderful smelling pastries that John is currently pulling out of the oven, and then save some room for dinner . . . becuase I think there's quiche as well. 

Wilco: Why I Was Angered and Outraged When John Outright Flattened The Idea of Growing Himself a Beard in the Image of Jeff Tweedy.

This post is devoted to my most favorite listening music: that of Wilco. Not only do I love the dulcet tones of Mr. Jeff Tweedy's voice, as you might already know, but I sort of compare him to a god . . . I even tried to convince John to grow out his beard Jeff Tweedy style . . . and well, naturally he didn't, but it would have been wonderful if he did. 

Anyways, I have the entire collection of albums that they've released . . . and enjoyed listening to them again, for the millionth time . . . because, well, things like this never get old . . . or boring. So hmm, I'm trying to think of something that I haven't written before, so that I can write

 something without repeating myself . . . because I know how boring that can be. 

. . . Hmmm.  I might as well fill the void of myself thinking for thoughts for write with a tad bit a art . . . everything gets better with art right? 

So . . . yeah, I've got nothing . . . I'm completely dried up on Wilco, other than the simple statement that they are the best at what they do . . . which is create art umcompared, duh. So, yeah, I had better cut this post short, John (the man that refused to grow a Jeff Tweedy beard) had made pita and hummus tonight for dinner . . . something of which I haven't had in forever. While we're eating, whether he likes it or not, I'm going to put on a little Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and bop along to some "Jesus, Etc." 

Vampire Weekend: Why They are Not Worth the Commute from KC to Lawrence and Why The Polyphonic Spree Surely is Due to the Definite Uniformity.

This is good stuff . . . I am currently listening to Vampire Weekend's self titled album, Vampire Weekend . . . and am enjoying it. This is something that my brother gave me a while back, and then apparently they started getting pretty big, and everybody loves them. Well then, I love them too. I have to say that the most enjoyable track that I've been listening to is "Walcott" . . . I like the piano . . . of course, that's probably because I like most songs with strong piano pieces in them . . . of course, this all despite the fact that the the most popular track being the prior one and one halfway through the middle . . . I didn't bother to learn their names. 

Now for a little bit of eye media:  

Well, sheesh, that's enough for that I suppose . . . well, I guess I should plug their tour for any local readers . . . they'll be in around the area in a couple days in Lawrence . . . Thursday, I believe . . . I won't be there, because the drive/commute is too long for for something not entirely worth it . . . I mean the last time I drove to Lawrence for a concert was for The Polyphonic Spree . . . because really, that's a show definitely worth seeing . . . all I need to say is robes . . . and army uniforms . . . costume uniformity . . . whatever you want to call it.