Tuesday, September 7, 2010
cool music alert!
How can I describe the constellations? I've seen them described as "ghettotech," which i'm pretty sure is a term their public relations guy made up. The thing about this band is that their songs defy genre trends really. Trashy funk-ified techno is the phrase that comes to mind when thinking about the songs felicia or or step right up. In "Step right up" the words alone (written by the illustrious tom waits) put your head smack dab in the kind of dive that leaves you smelling like cigarettes for days. Felicia has you imagining the Venus of the 21st century, who is naturally pretty trashy. Love is a murder and setback seem more indie electro-rock to me. They've got a bit of angst, anger and a lot of wit. They've got a rotating set of singers and rappers filling in on different songs, including someone who does a freaking fantastic tom waits impression if it isn't the man himself. I haven't gotten to all the songs on the album because there are five that i'm solidly addicted to (four of which i've mentioned here. But it was worth buying the album even if i only listen to those five songs. I mean, i'm sure i'll get to the rest eventually.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
A change of pace?
Hellooo, invisible blog readers!
So as some of you may or may know, I have been talking about starting a "band" for well, forever. But, as of late I actually managed to wrangle a guitarist into writing songs with me (thanks dan!). Now I just need a bassist. Maybe a drummer as well since I can't drum and sing at the same time. But I digress. So lately I've been working on songs, and they are okay, but I've noticed my writing has become a little stagnant now that I'm not engrossed in creative writing and poetry classes. So, I picked up a songwriting book at borders today (yayyyy discount.)It's got a number of exercises in it but I thought I would do the first one here.
Exercise One: pick an object in your room and write about it using the senses of sight, smell, taste, touch, hearing, organic, and kinesthetic. Keep in mind this is free verse, full sentences not necessary.also keep in mind i haven't been writing a lot lately so this is probably going to be terrible.
The drum set in the corner of my room
When I fell in love with a drummer I fell in love with drumming itself. On our third or fourth date we went to a block party, with a rotating set of local musicians. Most of them were professors or worked for the college or municipality to some extent. They all had graying hair and hidden tattoos. Aging rockers of small town america. And there was (name redacted), black hair a tousled, fluffy mess, eyes closed, biting his lip and banging on the drums in frenetic, overexcited abandoned. My very own, much more adorable keith moon. I sipped his mother's tart sangria and snacked on their vegetarian picnic foods. It was the first time that I had drank in front of and with what I thought of as "adults," and I fell in love that day. Later, I would ask him to teach me how to play. It was only partially a ploy to spend more time with him. While the veggie filled meal of the day would cook in the kitchen,in the living room the smells would fill me with hunger as I dutifully practiced the rudimentary rhythms and fills that make up basic rock songs. He didn't want to disturb the neighbors with the deep boom of the bass drum or the crashing cymbal, so instead we practiced on an 8 piece electric drum set, hard black plastic drums with giant headphones that refused to rest comfortably on my tiny ears. When I was cooking and he was playing, I could hear the click of his sticks on the plastic. it was mesmerizing in it's intricacy. when I had the headphones on myself and the worn, splintering sticks in my hands, the clicking disappeared. Instead, I could hear the blasting beats of traditional drums. If I wanted I could have connected any odd effect to the sensors on the toms, but I wanted it to sound as realistic as possible. I wanted to be prepared in the event that I one day played a set of "true" drums. On my own, I started paying more attention when listening to music. I found that if it was loud enough, if it was good enough I could feel it in my stomach. with a band like rush it would almost feel as if your pulse was syncing to the music, though i knew that wasn't really possible.with my headphones on, walking down the street, the world around me would disappear though my eyes were still open. I was obsessed with the beats behind every song I loved. Long after our relationship imploded, he gave me the electric drum set as a favor. At first it was a loan, but we both kept forgetting to arrange a return so I suppose it's now one of my possessions. I don't feel like I've gotten much better. Unlike when I am tap dancing, singing, or drawing, I am a hesitant drummer. I am a timid. While i can relax into beats I am comfortable with, I tense up and blank out when unsure of myself. This feeling, where everything from my thoughts to my fingertips just stops, is uncomfortable. But I keep trying. Even though I'm no longer in love with the drummer, I'm still in love with the drums.
For Reference
organic sense: awareness of inner body functions (muscles, heartbeat, etc)
kinesthetic sense: sense of relationship to world around you (like when you spin in a chair and even when you stop it still feels like it's spinning)
So as some of you may or may know, I have been talking about starting a "band" for well, forever. But, as of late I actually managed to wrangle a guitarist into writing songs with me (thanks dan!). Now I just need a bassist. Maybe a drummer as well since I can't drum and sing at the same time. But I digress. So lately I've been working on songs, and they are okay, but I've noticed my writing has become a little stagnant now that I'm not engrossed in creative writing and poetry classes. So, I picked up a songwriting book at borders today (yayyyy discount.)It's got a number of exercises in it but I thought I would do the first one here.
Exercise One: pick an object in your room and write about it using the senses of sight, smell, taste, touch, hearing, organic, and kinesthetic. Keep in mind this is free verse, full sentences not necessary.also keep in mind i haven't been writing a lot lately so this is probably going to be terrible.
The drum set in the corner of my room
When I fell in love with a drummer I fell in love with drumming itself. On our third or fourth date we went to a block party, with a rotating set of local musicians. Most of them were professors or worked for the college or municipality to some extent. They all had graying hair and hidden tattoos. Aging rockers of small town america. And there was (name redacted), black hair a tousled, fluffy mess, eyes closed, biting his lip and banging on the drums in frenetic, overexcited abandoned. My very own, much more adorable keith moon. I sipped his mother's tart sangria and snacked on their vegetarian picnic foods. It was the first time that I had drank in front of and with what I thought of as "adults," and I fell in love that day. Later, I would ask him to teach me how to play. It was only partially a ploy to spend more time with him. While the veggie filled meal of the day would cook in the kitchen,in the living room the smells would fill me with hunger as I dutifully practiced the rudimentary rhythms and fills that make up basic rock songs. He didn't want to disturb the neighbors with the deep boom of the bass drum or the crashing cymbal, so instead we practiced on an 8 piece electric drum set, hard black plastic drums with giant headphones that refused to rest comfortably on my tiny ears. When I was cooking and he was playing, I could hear the click of his sticks on the plastic. it was mesmerizing in it's intricacy. when I had the headphones on myself and the worn, splintering sticks in my hands, the clicking disappeared. Instead, I could hear the blasting beats of traditional drums. If I wanted I could have connected any odd effect to the sensors on the toms, but I wanted it to sound as realistic as possible. I wanted to be prepared in the event that I one day played a set of "true" drums. On my own, I started paying more attention when listening to music. I found that if it was loud enough, if it was good enough I could feel it in my stomach. with a band like rush it would almost feel as if your pulse was syncing to the music, though i knew that wasn't really possible.with my headphones on, walking down the street, the world around me would disappear though my eyes were still open. I was obsessed with the beats behind every song I loved. Long after our relationship imploded, he gave me the electric drum set as a favor. At first it was a loan, but we both kept forgetting to arrange a return so I suppose it's now one of my possessions. I don't feel like I've gotten much better. Unlike when I am tap dancing, singing, or drawing, I am a hesitant drummer. I am a timid. While i can relax into beats I am comfortable with, I tense up and blank out when unsure of myself. This feeling, where everything from my thoughts to my fingertips just stops, is uncomfortable. But I keep trying. Even though I'm no longer in love with the drummer, I'm still in love with the drums.
For Reference
organic sense: awareness of inner body functions (muscles, heartbeat, etc)
kinesthetic sense: sense of relationship to world around you (like when you spin in a chair and even when you stop it still feels like it's spinning)
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