everybody's special

i'm pretty sure that nobody with actual talent reads my blog (when i get around to posting, that is). legitimized talent, i mean. you guys all rock, but as far as i know, you've never published anything or gotten signed (no, blogs don't count, and neither does the "record label" you thought up when you got stoned on the library roof that one time). anyway, like most losers (and eventual winners, i suppose), i keep trying in spite of the harsh glaring truth and every november, i psyche myself up for the month of plot outlines and carpal tunnel syndrome that is nanowrimo.

and now you musically inclined folks can play too! check it out: the rpm challenge! record an album in 28 days? sounds like a piece of cake to me. though, you only have about 32 hours until the clock starts.

then you have to learn how to play an instrument, find some like-minded saps to accompany you, write a bunch of songs, record them, have artistic differences and go your own way, edit them (the songs, not the differences. though, now that you mention it, your musical pretensions aren't exactly original), leak them to the internet, convince dj dangermouse to remix your shit so the kids will think it's cool, find some kickass cover art, sue the pants off the hipster doofi who illegally downloaded your genius, wallow in your own crapulence, and fall headfirst into the inevitable sophomore slump.

congratulations, you're a rock star! now head on over to pitchfork and hypemachine to obsessively track your "popularity".

ok, fine! yes, i'm slightly bitter, my musical dreams will never be realized! and no, i don't hold that against musicians, more power to them. and maybe, i secretly wish i could pull off the eyeliner look. quit bugging me, don't you have songs to write?

meet lordi

they're just living the monsterican dream, nothing to do but wait for the arockalypse and fucking shred! they're way hard, but way loveable under all the fangs and goo.

is this the reason american music sucks? not enough monsters? maybe. who fucking cares, just pump your fist and lead your zombie cheerleaders to rawk salvation.

holy hostility, batman!

that last post was full of bitter invective, which is not my usual style, i swear. i don't even really mind working at starbucks so much this time (unlike before, when going to work was like walking through acid in flip-flops). the kids who work there are awesome, i get to basically say and do whatever i want, and my bosses are just glad to have me back!

still, most customers are vacuous and forgettable and i long for intellectual stimulation that can't be found in retail. questions like "do you have a restroom?" and "where are the straws?" don't quite get my motor running. luckily, the current crew at my store is very much in the too-smart-for-retail-but-saddled-with-an-unmarketable-degree mold, to which i proudly belong, and which i vastly prefer to either the dumb-enough-for-retail or the i-will-make-starbucks-my-god-and-sacrifice-fun-to-its-insatiable-otherworldly-hunger varieties.

speaking of stimulation, last week i came in at the end of the night to help my bosses roll out the holiday decorations for the store (a hugely ridiculous process, but $$$ talks as usual) and it happened to take place on the new (to me) open mic night at the store! this was my first time (which, unlike in some clubs, did not mean that i had to participate. lucky them) though i'd been warned by a coworker to expect the worst. and, as much as i think people with talent should devote themselves to cultivating it and enriching their lives and the lives of those around them, i just couldn't fucking stop laughing. oh god, the earnestness! that night, i glimpsed a world without irony, and it was goddamn hilarious!

p.s. i'm cracking up just thinking about it!

dear britt daniel,

i know you probably get a lot of letters like this, but i just wanted to say that you pretty much rock. just the other day, i saw bono (in 7/11! eating a roller-dog!!) and i gave him a nod and thought that though he's done a fairly good job of publicizing the plight of the impoverished and hungry and whatnot in africa, there must be somebody who could do those things who wasn't involved in the production of 'how to dismantle an atomic bomb.'

and that's when i thought of you, britt! you're compassionate, friendly, outgoing, you have awesome hair, and i bet you smell pretty good most of the time (unlike bono. also, nitrates, dude! seriously.) and what more do you need to be an international davos-fixture like lord bono?

this is getting a little off topic, but really britt, i just wanted you to know that i was thinking about you and listening to some of your fantastic music, and it made me a little sad that you're not beloved by more people. if you're ever in boston, look me up, ok? talk to you later!

love,
dan

so much for that whole 'indie god' thing

heard regina spektor on vmars tonight. found the song ("fidelity" i would link it, but there are laws. also, buy it, cheap-o!) on los internets. it is awesome, she is awesome (also, she's apparently some sort of twee pixie/wet dream on a piano), and while i am still pretty ok in most people's view, i've turned in my street cred and cursed the name of time warner-aol for a second time. all of the cool kids knew about her ages ago, and i am appropriately humbled. thank you veronica mars, for opening up my eyes (ears)!

master of mixology

no, not booze for once (though i'm pretty unstoppable with that too; see: green crush). music actually. to me, crafting mixtapes (or ipod playlists, if you're into that whole thing) is like the fine art of collage. or scrapbooking. or fanfiction. it's all about rearranging other people's hard work into kick-ass arrangements that say something about you, not those sell-outs who actually produced the stuff.

i like to make mixes that fit my attitude towards my own life. one of the downsides of this approach is that they don't always stay relevant since, well, things change. still, if the mix really works, it should come together to form a solid, delicious whole that is more than the sum of its parts (not unlike jell-o), and the timeliness issue shouldn't be a problem. that being said, some songs really (really) don't age well, and it can be hard to figure out if "jenny was a friend of mine" is still going to be rock-tacular when i'm an adult (p.s. i'm not yet).

so, if you're like me (you're probably not) and you love a good cliche (you probably don't), then you think making a mix cd/playlist/tape for your significant whatever is good old fashioned fun (and you probably already left my blog). for reals though: it's mostly personal, it takes a not-insignificant amount of time, and it can--if done properly--give her important relationship information. what info you provide, however, depends on the mix. you can tell her about yourself, your influences and tastes, what you're listening to at the moment, or what songs you want to have sex to the next time she's in town. on the other hand, you can show her that you've been paying attention every time she says she loves a song (to really step it up, find other songs by the same band, or similar bands. but oh man, stay away from covers), or that you remember what songs she played during sex the last time. or you can do themes. they're kind of cheesy, but as in most things, the line between romance and cheese is a very fine one. and it takes practice to stay on the right side of it.

caveat mixtor: you can very easily ruin a song you love by putting in a mix for a girl who dumps your cheesy ass. especially if you really dug her. shit, music is wicked evocative, that's the whole point of it, and when you go and associate it with some painful happenings, kiss it goodbye. for a while anyway. what's the getting-over-a-breakup rule? half the length of the relationship? yeah, that sounds good. don't listen to tainted music until half the length of the relationship has passed since the breakup. got it?

p.s. mixes are fun for other things too, like working out ("rump shaker," etc.) and parties ("rump shaker," etc.) and getting blazed ("the ocean," etc.)! haha, yeah right, loser. they're also awesome for a night alone with a bottle of makers' mark and singing along/dancing on the bed. not that i would know. my only playlists are titled "kicking ass" and "making it with chicks".