Three Easy Steps to a Bad Education

1) Who uses tap dancing for percussion? Tilly and the Wall, ftw - very creative and edgy. This song, which happens to be entitled "Bad Education," also happens to have similar themes to the very strange but interesting Spanish movie "Bad Education" (woo Gael García Bernal!). But, despite the similarity and the Spanish flamenco sound, the song, according to Wikipedia, is not related to the movie. Got me hooked on Tilly anyhow.


2) Unrelatedly, I'll probably be changing the colors around on this site randomly in weeks to come. I'm sorry if you happened by while it was whatever colors it was this morning... they were frightening. I found a site called Colourlovers (Brits? Canucks? Who knows...) that I think I may become enamored (enamoured?) with. Good thing I don't own any walls, or I'd be spending the next few weeks painting and repainting them.


3) A belated thank you to Matt for the encouraging comment about theses. Where would I be without you guys? You actually got my mother interested in reading what I write... crazy! Still no progress on the thesis. I even have another idea that's starting to compete with the one I wrote about earlier. At this rate I'll be graduating with the sesquicentennial class instead of the centennial class.

I always fall in love with an open door

Here's Ra Ra Riot!, one of the bands that opened for Death Cab Friday night. The other was The Cold War Kids, who were okay, but not quite my style. This Ra Ra Riot song ("Ghost Under Rocks"), however, is quite deliciously awesome – these guys were very intense. I knew it would be a good set when I saw the electric cello and violin! Unfortunately I didn't get any pictures of Ra Ra Riot! We were too scared that Security would come confiscate the camera because they had stopped us at the gates already - the Canon Rebel apparently looks too 'professional.' Are you professional? Well, no, Batman, I'm not.

After a while, though, we got more gutsy. I got a few shots of The Cold War Kids, whose bassist (center), without a doubt, was on drugs. My guess was coke, but who knows? Don't be fooled by his halo (full-size image if you click):


The CWK played a long (too long) set, then came the disgustingly long wait for Death Cab. After a few decades, they emerged. They played! Music! With instruments! And voices! We were waaay too far away for my taste, but that was okay. It was Death Cab For friggin' Cutie, and there's no complaining about that. I think this was the first time I'd ever even seen how they play live - I haven't ever watched any live videos of them, even. For me, DCFC falls into this strange category of being a band so perfect that they're possibly actually immortal. Before this, I only vaguely knew what they looked like because I felt that associating the music with faces and names would almost cheapen it; when I found out that one of the members of The Shins was abusive of his long-time girlfriend, it made me a little sick. I knew Ben by sight, and a little about his life, and that's about it. I don't even imagine him singing when I listen to the music. I'm not sure how to explain it. They have such perfect music that I can't associate it with actual people. So you can see how this concert was a bit surreal for me.

As a continuance of the surreality, Ben Gibbard (lead singer), the only person in the band I knew, was all skinny-like and had chin-length hair, which was weird, because the last pictures I had seen of him had been adorable Plans-era chubby Ben. Perhaps he is losing weight for his wedding to Zooey Deschanel? I love you Ian, but I have sooooooo much jealousy for Zooey. You do understand, I hope, that this is DCFC we're talking about. His voice was still nice, though, so I forgive him for the hair and the skinny.

And so, without further ado, the pictures:


Guitarist Chris Walla was the most popular subject of our photos for the express reason that he was closest. Also, the Martinez sisters (Angel and Amanda, our German-Mexican companions on the trip) really like him.


Soooooo far away.

The dudes:

Lying Down on the Job

"Her Morning Elegance" by Oren Lavie, from the album The Opposite Side of the Sea


I've loved this song from the very first time I heard it. In addition to beautiful instrumental parts, the lyrics are everything that I wish I could write (but apparently can't. My fiction piece for Intro to Creative Writing last year seems to have been heavily influenced by this song, but I miserably failed capture what Israeli national Lavie spells out so simply). Although the video wasn't what I had imagined through all the times I listened to this song on repeat, I think any sane person would have to agree that it's spectacular in every way (after all, it does star a redhead [Shir Shomron], and we all know how I feel about those). I appreciate that they've put two grown people (the man is Lavie) on a bed without once making it sexual, that they've made it whimsical without being silly, and that they've made it voyeuristic without being prying. All of these serve to underscore the song's sense of love for the subject. Very impressive. The video changed my whole day when I stumbled across it this morning, and I hope it does something similar for you.

I am your water; I am your air

Whatever you are doing, it is not important. What is important is Pintando una Canción. Go to it now. Let it load. Thank me later.

You're still here? You want more information, you say? The music artist goes by the name of Labuat, and the song title is "Soy tu aire" ("I am your air"). The visual artist is you.

Class dismissed.

Mother, Mae Shi?

Have you guys heard of (or listened to – the listening to it bit is the more important) The Mae Shi? The video for their song "Run To Your Grave," below, shows a bit of the energetic love for music that I find irresistible in music artists. Look at the wildly swinging drum sticks! Look at the fact that they have to clean up after the jam session! You can tell they're having fun! You can tell that they like music! {Side note - have you noticed that Youtube has cool new embedding options? They're neat-o!}




Although the Mae Shi have recorded my favorite Miley Cyrus cover ever (It's so good! It is! The video's not, though – sorry. Warning: WILL GET STUCK IN YOUR HEAD) and a hilarious parody of Christopher Bale's meltdown (lol), I think that much of their music is very important. They join other Christian musicians who form rock bands but don't call their music "Christian rock," not because their music is any less Christian, but because their music does not belong to a world of easy-peasy worship songs. There's no "fall on your face with your knees to the rising sun" to be had here. Instead of showering listeners fine slurry of platitudes and beatitudes, the Mae Shi creates songs that question, sometimes harshly, the current state of society and Christianity; or that educate the listener on aspects of the religion; or that give personal testimony of God's strengths and religion's weaknesses. From Mae Shi's song "Young Marks":

I was born
to potential and limitless grace
with the flashing of light
it was gone when the smoke cleared
cast in ash and powder

I was raised to obey and respect but
at the edge of the lake
was dead and disruption
when the water splashed across my back...

I wasn't chosen
I didn't choose the path
my heart's not built to hold his love

I was schooled
in a place of tradition
but something was missing
in faces of classmates
eyes declared too blue, too deep

The Mae Shi's lyrics do what Christian musicians, as Christians and as artists, should be doing: discomforting, challenging, thought-provoking. They've moved past the rock songs that do little more than assert strength of the artists' piety. And by doing so, they've become ministers to a new group of Christians – those who, like me, are not satisfied to merely bend over and watch the older generations poison their minds and hearts with their enema bags full of dogma.

The Mae Shi are not the only ones. In fact, they're my latest fling in an ongoing music fetish. Before this, I have fallen in love with the now-defunct Pedro the Lion and Half-Handed Cloud (HHC's song Animals Are Cut in Two is quite possibly the most upbeat song ever written on the significance of Old Testament animal sacrifice, and proves that I wasn't the only one paying attention in Theology class). While they approach the issues in different ways (both lyrically and musically) and for different purposes, this growing group of artists recognizes and accepts a complexity in Christianity that has been ignored for years, perhaps even millennia. They look at their own confusion and bottle it. Note that Pedro the Lion's beautiful ballad "Priests and Paramedics" (a very nice live version) doesn't say whether the priests or the paramedics are correct. And even after performing very pessimistic pieces, these artists can still take comfort in the old, solid hymns (Pedro the Lion also performs a very peaceful version of "Amazing Love"), or in embracing feel-good messages – The Mae Shi sells shirts that proclaim, "I'm glad you're alive" – because isn't that what Christianity is about, too? In the end, it is this wandering that makes me trust them. I wonder if they realize that their faithful uncertainty makes them more disciple-like than surety.

In a time where the word "Christian" is fraught with implications of bigotry and ineptitude, and where "Christian rock" means playing electric guitar to the same old hymn books, these artists have found a greater depth of meaning and perhaps a wider audience for Christian ideas (not to mention a place in my heart) by venturing outside the pale. Mayhaps we of the flock could learn a little from these preachers.

iTunes runs my life for real.

One of those many, many memes that circulates. This one came from Alasdair. You know who he is. I only skipped when French came up the second time, which I thought was fair. If my life were a movie:

Opening Credits:
Sairi del Ande - Wayanay Inka
(a laid-back panpipe tune; appropriate)

Your mom finds out she's pregnant with you:
405 - Death Cab for Cutie
(must've been unexpected - this is about a drunken trip down a western WA freeway)

Slideshow of her pregnancy:
Brain Damage - Pink Floyd
(explains a lot, really)

While she's delivering you:
Okay - The Metasciences
(a slow, slightly atonal guitar-and-female-singer piece that would be good for a low-key, depressing montage)

Your first birthday:
Exciter Lamp - Matmos
(first time I've listened to this - it's an abstract electrono piece, so who knows? this is definitely shaping up to be an indie film...)

You growing up:
Something - The Beatles
(apparently someone is in love with me/stalking me throughout my childhood. Or the viewer is supposed to fall in love with me?)

Your first day of school:
Message in a Bottle - The Police
(So true.)

Meeting your first friend:
The Wind Beneath My Wings - Roger Whitaker
(I laughed out loud. The irony is too much)

Your first day of middle school:
Two Franks - Count Basie
(a very fast-paced, sax-heavy jazz piece. probably appropriate)

Meeting your first crush:
New York, New York - Frank Sinatra
(hmmm. not the best Frank song I could think of for the occasion, but it'll do?)

Your first kiss:
Steal My Sunshine - Len
(I love this song so much. You could get any meaning you want from the lyrics, but it fits particularly well in that it mentions laying in the grass)

Fighting with your parents:
Everything That You Need - Adam Richman
(this says everything: "I'm not grown up, I'm still writing songs, and I'm dealing with you still every day")

Fighting with your friends:
When We Refuse to Suffer - Jonathan Richman
(gist: when we refuse to suffer and feel, that's when life starts to suck, and the artificial things win. This would have to be a pretty specific fight for the lyrics to fit, but the music itself fits.)

Breaking up:
Christmas in Jail, Aint' that a Pain - Leroy Carr
(Blues. Perfect.)

Your first day of high school:
White Cloud, Big Sky - guess who?
(whistling loneliness, an insistent string... excellent fit)

Your sweet sixteen:
Songs for Ghosts to Haunt to - Maps and Atlases
(manic, unclear, awesome)

Your 18th birthday:
This Charming Man - The Smiths
(somehow perfect - it's very much a growing up song: "Will nature make a man of me yet?")

Your graduation ceremony:
'Cause You Can - Birdmonster
(this song gives a feeling of running, which fits well)

Your first day of college:
Blue Ridge Laughing - Carbon Leaf
(a healthy dose of homesickness, nostalgia, and anticipation)

Your first college party:
Pablo Picasso - Jonathan Richman
("Girls would turn the color of an avocado as he would drive down the street in his El Dorado, so Pablo Picasso was never called an asshole" - perhaps I meet an asshole or am one?)

Meeting your true love:
Yellow - Coldplay
(a sweet song with the proper sense of early love's euphoria)

Getting married:
Start Choppin' - Dinosaur Jr
(another I had never heard - a breakup song)

Finding out you/your spouse is pregnant:
Fake Frowns - Death Cab for Cutie
(not the most auspicious song for a pregnancy)

Having your first child:
Revenge of the Nerds - KJ-52
(exactly how it sounds. also, very auspicious!)

Getting old:
Radio Song - R.E.M.
("The world is collapsing around our ears; I turned off the radio" - the correct way to get old, I think)

Your spouse gets sick:
Lesson 30 - Living Language (French)
(LOL - I have no idea what this would mean. A breakdown of communication due to the sickness? "ça depends")

They die:
Hello, Goodbye - The Beatles
(upbeat and tragic when applied to this, but it fits sadly well)

At their funeral:
Blue Christmas - Bright Eyes
(extremely well-planned)

You end up in the hospital:
Light Up Ahead - Further Seems Forever
(a song that suggests that one is very accepting of one's fate)

Your death:
Action Adventure (live) - Andrew Bird
("You're not invited to my action adventure, my action adventure dream" - I love it)

Your funeral:
Autumn Leaves - Eva Cassidy
(my favorite ballad ever, I think. Well-chosen, iTunes!)

Out of my mind.

This is mostly intentionally punctuation-light. I think I'll call it poetry. Feel free to put in line breaks and punctuation how you imagine one would. We could call it creative essay, perhaps. This is what listening to Tegan and Sara does to you. I'd listen to this song while reading in order to get the full effect. Boy, do those girls have a way with things.


I want you close to me like the music like when you turn up the volume louder and louder until it almost hurts and you’re cringing but that’s not enough so you press the headphones deeper into your ears until it almost hurts but this time not because it’s too loud but because it’s still not enough because you just want it inside you, inside your head, inside your heart in your belly in your hands in your feet Oh God, I can’t get close enough I can’t I can’t I can’t

But you go and I know you must, so I put my music on repeat and turn up my headphones.

I want to see you like when you read a book all about someone’s life and how they seemed to know just what to do at every turn or they didn’t but it doesn’t matter because isn’t it wonderful that somebody had a life and that they lived it, and if it’s gone now it doesn’t matter it’s just that they lived they loved and I want that I want to know that it all turns out okay that we hold hands peacefully when the sun explodes and I try to remember the future but can’t.

But you go and I know you must, so I plot out the rest of our days with a little room for secret plans.

I want to feel you like a painting when you look at the lines and the woman’s face and the colors how they mix and blur and you can’t touch it because the sign says and because you can’t; it was another time another place and maybe the artist made love with the model every afternoon, but he was bothered because he couldn’t paint the little lines in her eyes just right I’ve tried to draw you, your eyes your eyes, but I just couldn’t get it right and nobody would understand and I don’t think I do either

But you’re tired and want to sleep so I stare at your eyelids.

It is true what you say: I live like a hermit in my own head.

I open, stare at, close, and reopen a Blogger tab on Firefox, like an agorophobe cracking open a door, asking himself if today will be today, then deciding that he is not dressed right, or witty enough, or that his library needs dusting. I have homework to do, after all. So I post a picture here and a video there. Pay no attention to the writing major behind the sparse, unoriginal text.

Here's a picture. My polarizer decided to make some photos lomo-tastic, which is nice, since Costco won't process my 120 film. This one hasn't been messed with because I do not yet have photoshop, and Google hates Mac.



Here, too, in my usual custom, is a video of a song I'm digging these days. This is the band Loney, Dear. They have a sweet and quiet sound that they use for stealth. They will sneak up on you and steal your iPod listening time from other artists and you won't even know why. Damn, dirty Swedes.

I saw no banjo. I want my money back.

Somethings you find are just so cool that you must post them. From Wikipedia: "Animusic is an American company specializing in the 3D visualization of MIDI-based music." They sell DVDs full of the stuff, and there could hardly be a cooler concept. The rendering is so realistic that I've seen emails touting one of Animusic's videos as proof of a real instrument made from farm machinery parts. I saw this one today and was so enchanted by both the (fantastically beautiful) music itself and the meticulous movements of the string-pickers and fingerers that it had to be shared.

Paradise: found.

Ian and I have gotten ourselves a fine pair of summer jobs and will be staying the summer in Helena. Happiness beyond words!! Now we just have to survive the rest of the semester, a challenging prospect, to say the least.

In other news, I'd be posting a video of the song "You! Me! Dancing!" by Los Campesinos! if I hadn't already. It starts out slowly, but don't let it fool you. This is a fun song.

I've also been hopping lately to some "gypsy punk," an interesting genre for sure. The band Pale Young Gentlemen falls sometimes into this category. You know they're crazy 'cuz they call themselves "gentlemen" but not all of them are even men. Scandalous. Their song "Clap Your Hands" is impossible to not dance to (the grammarian in me is imploding over this sentence). This is the only video of it I can find, and the sound is a little crappy, so take note when you listen.

The main gypsy punk band, though, is Gogol Bordello. They're insane. And also, they sing in Spanish sometimes. I especially love the fire of a grungy Eastern European voice backed up by accordion and electric guitar. Here they are in "60 Revolutions":




I almost forgot to add the band Plushgun. Their heartfelt song "Just Impolite" - currently one of my favorite songs - was featured in an episode of We Need Girlfriends. Thanks WNGFs!

Basia Bulat needs to not be so mean.

She doesn't really. She needs to make more albums and plan a tour stop in Helena, actually. But she also needs to tell me where the heck I have heard her song "In The Night." It's so beautiful and distinctive. And it's eating me up. Was it a movie? A commercial? My imagination? Oh, Ms. Bulat, why do you condescend to fix on me a frown?!

Clearly this is the greatest thing ever.

From the blog of the author of Dino Comics comes this amazing gem of the Intarwebs: The Most Wanted and The Most Unwanted Songs. This awesome (as yet two-part) project, by Komar and Melamid, used information from teh Web-o-Blag to find out what, on average, people wanted in a piece of music and what they did not want:

"The most unwanted music is over 25 minutes long, veers wildly between loud and quiet sections, between fast and slow tempos, and features timbres of extremely high and low pitch, with each dichotomy presented in abrupt transition. The most unwanted orchestra was determined to be large, and features the accordion and bagpipe (which tie at 13% as the most unwanted instrument), banjo, flute, tuba, harp, organ, synthesizer (the only instrument that appears in both the most wanted and most unwanted ensembles). An operatic soprano raps and sings atonal music, advertising jingles, political slogans, and "elevator" music, and a children's choir sings jingles and holiday songs. The most unwanted subjects for lyrics are cowboys and holidays, and the most unwanted listening circumstances are involuntary exposure to commericals and elevator music. Therefore, it can be shown that if there is no covariance—someone who dislikes bagpipes is as likely to hate elevator music as someone who despises the organ, for example—fewer than 200 individuals of the world's total population would enjoy this piece."

If you're like me (those of us in the supposed <200 people who enjoy The Most Unwanted Song), The Most Wanted Song is trash; I actually downloaded The Most Unwanted Song for my iTunes. Enjoy, though, whichever you choose.

And if you think I'm wasting your time again, I'm wasting your time.

I HEART ANDREW BIRD.

I have been listening to this fantastic artist nearly nonstop for over a week now. Besides incredible lyrics (my favorites are... well, I can't actually pick any because they're all so good), Bird employs his violin skillz to rockzorz anyone within hearing distance, and his fiddlin' style incorporates everything from classical to American and European folk to jazz. Also: he whistles. ¿Qué guay, eh? If you are interested, you should to be can has checking out his wonderful collection of videos. SOME OF WHICH ARE (PAUSE FOR DRAMATIC EFFECT) CHILDREN'S SHOW APPEARENCES.

If you hear me, Andrew, come to Montana.

All day dyin', and I learned how to live.

Today, ladies and gents, I present for you the Starving Artist Showcase. The poor gaunt famine victim look-alike for the day is Marshall McLean, a Christian musician and a Very Nice Guy by all accounts. I've actually had a chance to meet him; he kindly acquiesced to play at my college last spring (and again this fall, though I missed it), and, hungered for live music, I acquiesced to attend. My fiancé and I caught the tail end of a very pleasant concert to which I found myself wishing I had arrived earlier.


In an interview with The Spokesman-Review's (Spokane) Isamu Jordan, it becomes clear that Marshall has taken the road less travelled: "I wasn't exactly what you would call a cool kid. A lot of that social time that most high schoolers would be having, I was just the kid playing guitar alone. I took a few lessons here and there, but a lot of it was birthed out of loneliness. I submerged myself into trying to have an outlet for just being lonely." His love for his wife and their new baby (both of whom he dotes upon endlessly - an enormous snapshot of them graces his homepage) forms a strong, peaceful center for his music. Although his slim frame and long hair give the impression that you'll hear a John Mayer-style crooner, don't make judgements. McLean's raspy voice and drillingly honest and introspective lyrics, topped gracefully by his beautiful, quiet guitar stylings (playing that has won him Gibson Guitars' stamp of approval) may just be a worship service in themselves.

Here are the lyrics to "Ordinary Things," a song McLean wrote and played for his wedding, and one I can't get out of my head today:

When the lights go down in our ordinary town and the street lights come on agaist the grey, from where we lay our heads on our ordinary beds we're gonna love you more than yesterday.
And as we fade into dreams, we're gonna dream about the ordinary things,

So retrace our steps, follow all the tracks we left to the hour we first believed; and after all we've seen, you've been in the inbetweens, so we'll look for our God in the ordinary things.

And when the lights come on in the half-risen sun, we are waking with noises in our ears. If city sounds hide truth, common things will be our proof; you'll be the mystery we wrap our hands around.
And on an ordinary day, our feet can dance and walk through the grey.

And from the biggest thoughts we think, to the dishes in the sink, you'll be the inbetween; and we know just where you are, 'cause you said you're not that far from the ordinary things.

It's your party, but I'll die if I want to.

Thank Drawn! for posting these two great videos by Los Campesinos! (I suspect a controversy to get me to overuse exclamation points). As dystopian literature (Orwell, Huxley, and the like) ranks among my favorite genres - everybody loves a cynic - and the proceedings of the presidential election forcibly yanks my head in the direction of a frightening future, I thought these appropriate.

We Throw Parties, You Throw Knives




You! Me! Dancing!

"Remember what Jesus says about 'neighborly love' and all that? Guys? Guys? Can you put down the pitchforks now?"

This photo was found on Ebay. I have unforunately lost the url. Forgive me.


I'm pretty sure that Carroll College should have rules about banjos in on-campus housing. A mere three inches of wall separate each of the monastic-looking single rooms in my hall, and I don't doubt that my banjo practice sessions can be heard by anywhere from two to twenty-two hallmates.

This summer I made the decision to not let my family's rusty ancestral banjo go to waste as it has for as long as I can remember. A lifetime Faithful Member of The Order Of The Eternally Broken Items In The Basement, this banjo, or "The Banjo," is reported by my boyfriend's father, Matthew, an expert musician, to be an excellent instrument for Irish folk music. After I dis-mantled, de-rusted, re-oiled, and re-stored the Silvertone tenor banjo, Matt and my boyfriend Ian made the final adjustments and applied a custom set of strings. Finally a stringed instrument of my very own!

I find the narrower bridge and lesser number of strings to be advantageous, and am rapidly learning songs by picking them out by ear. This is the first time that I have ever learned something musical without sheet music, which I consider to be an accomplishment.

Thus far, I can play the Civil War tune "Aura Lee," The Shins' "Teeth In The Grass," Irish traditional "Minstrel Boy," eucharist hymn "Come Share the Wine," and everybody's favorite, "Kumbayah." My poor, poor neighbors.