I believe in what I'm doing. What am I doing here?
Busy evening...
Small bit of U2 fangirl squeeage behind the cut at the bottom, including embedded video.
I now have the correct left lens in my glasses (finally!), as well as a few nifty ornaments (including a disco ball!!!) and LED festive lighting at a considerable discount.
In the car I sang along with some stuff I hadn't heard in a while, and felt much, much better about life, because they were those kind of songs. This is a form of therapy in which I should probably indulge regularly, it did a world of good. Our house is semi-detached, I don't get to sing unfettered very often (and I'm kinda shy WRT karaoke). Singing properly and from deep down (yay for choir and musical theatre experience) always makes me feel better, physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. As does playing an instrument, but that's not a good idea when driving. :) And speaking of which...
On the way home, I managed to NOT get rammed sideways by the glaikit lady who tried to change lanes TWICE while I was parallel with her and unable to go anywhere else, HELLO?, and who then proceeded to run a light that had been red for a good ten seconds before we reached the intersection. Ma'am, I sincerely hope you made it home in one piece -- and that you NEVER DRIVE AGAIN.
Anyway. So, yes: alive (thanks, Trickster), better (from raising a joyful voice), getting into the festive spirit (hohoho), able to see (alleluia), and I've tracked down something quite extraordinary (squee), which is below the cut.
When I was a teenager, any U2 fan (that I knew of) who fancied themselves a collector and a completist would've been thrilled to find the 1982 U2 45 single "A Celebration" (and the 1979 "Three" EP, for that matter, but those songs wound up on other albums). Where I lived, that was totally not going to happen. Even the staff at the import store in Ptbo (Moondance: patchouli, "paraphernalia," punk, and the usual High Fidelity-style pretension -- I LOVED it there) were always on the hunt for it. You could track down another fan who'd put the song on a mix tape and mail it to you (man, I'm old), but it's never been put on a U2 album or otherwise re-released to any fanfare, which adds to its mystique. They've sometimes played it at concerts. But if what you wanted was to get your mitts on the vinyl, well, good luck with that, King Arthur.
The B-side is "Trash, Trampoline, and The Party Girl" -- which in my time and place was only available as a live version on "Under A Blood Red Sky" or on said mix tapes. Now, at least, it's on the Best Of 80-90 B-sides. So, yay for that, because I love that song beyond all reason.
Anyway, these days, we're spoiled rotten thanks to the internet (get offa mah lawn, you kids! sorry, gotta practice my fogie schtick). Via eBay (all hail!), it's possible to acquire the 45 (mint condition!), and yes, I do plan to acquire it at some point (buying a 45 in 2006?! omg, does that make me a hipster? *shudder*), although I won't be able to play it until I can set up Ye Olde Turntable (i.e. when we have a bigger house). And good grief, don't get me started about digital music. I'll just start muttering about C90s and levels and kids these days don't know how good they got it and where'd I put my felt-tip pens again?
Scarce though the single was, the video was like frickin' Elvis ("Terry says he's seen it!" "Tcha, right"). Granted, my peers and I relied on the occasional video dance at school, a handful of Canadian-produced music shows and, on the rare chance the antenna could pick it up from across the lake (*waves at good ol' upstate New York*), Friday Night Videos. In short, we took what we could get. I didn't have 24/7 access to videos until we moved to an area with cable in 1987, and I watched Much Music practically 24/7 for some time after that (esp. if there was a hint of U2 being on -- specials, interviews, old footage from New Music, retrospectives -- name it, I watched it). But I never saw the video for "A Celebration" -- I would've remembered.
U2 have been my one true band since 1983; I finally saw this video for the first time tonight, 2006. That's rather nifty, if strange (hell, in 1983 I didn't think the world would still be around by my next birthday, which makes this all even more strange, since the song talks about nuclear war). Mind you, it's not the best video they've ever done and it's possibly the cheesiest (though Meiert Avis also directed the best videos of their early career), and the quality bites even if you make accomodations for the usual YouTube foibles (U2, YouTube; huh, neat). Lyric comprehension's a bit of a challenge (though I confess our sound card is getting crunchy, it may just be me) so just in case, here you go. You'll almost surely laugh -- the video's terribly dated (it was 1982, people, where do I begin? the hair? the clothes? the effects?).
Have I talked you out of watching it? Wondering why I'm going all rock journo about how the legendary Grail of my youth turned out to be more like a mug saying "souvenir of tight pants and an out of control fog machine"? Expecting me to feel disappointed, let down, at the very least? Well, here's the thing: I'm not. Exactly the opposite, in fact.
Now, they're the biggest band on the planet. The height of cool. Monsters of rock, sex gods, superstars, etc. Long may it be so, say I, with my big ol' fangirl heart on my sleeve.
In 1982, however, they were still kids, gifted with a kind of awkward chutzpah, raw talent and earnestness. At the crux of "fuck this, let's go into accounting," and "fuck that, we're doing what we love," and thank g-d they chose the latter, because the next time they put something out into the world, they really, really got it right.
The subject line of this post contains the last two lines of the song. We have all, at some point, stood on a threshold like that.
Some of us are, right this moment.
Small bit of U2 fangirl squeeage behind the cut at the bottom, including embedded video.
I now have the correct left lens in my glasses (finally!), as well as a few nifty ornaments (including a disco ball!!!) and LED festive lighting at a considerable discount.
In the car I sang along with some stuff I hadn't heard in a while, and felt much, much better about life, because they were those kind of songs. This is a form of therapy in which I should probably indulge regularly, it did a world of good. Our house is semi-detached, I don't get to sing unfettered very often (and I'm kinda shy WRT karaoke). Singing properly and from deep down (yay for choir and musical theatre experience) always makes me feel better, physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. As does playing an instrument, but that's not a good idea when driving. :) And speaking of which...
On the way home, I managed to NOT get rammed sideways by the glaikit lady who tried to change lanes TWICE while I was parallel with her and unable to go anywhere else, HELLO?, and who then proceeded to run a light that had been red for a good ten seconds before we reached the intersection. Ma'am, I sincerely hope you made it home in one piece -- and that you NEVER DRIVE AGAIN.
Anyway. So, yes: alive (thanks, Trickster), better (from raising a joyful voice), getting into the festive spirit (hohoho), able to see (alleluia), and I've tracked down something quite extraordinary (squee), which is below the cut.
When I was a teenager, any U2 fan (that I knew of) who fancied themselves a collector and a completist would've been thrilled to find the 1982 U2 45 single "A Celebration" (and the 1979 "Three" EP, for that matter, but those songs wound up on other albums). Where I lived, that was totally not going to happen. Even the staff at the import store in Ptbo (Moondance: patchouli, "paraphernalia," punk, and the usual High Fidelity-style pretension -- I LOVED it there) were always on the hunt for it. You could track down another fan who'd put the song on a mix tape and mail it to you (man, I'm old), but it's never been put on a U2 album or otherwise re-released to any fanfare, which adds to its mystique. They've sometimes played it at concerts. But if what you wanted was to get your mitts on the vinyl, well, good luck with that, King Arthur.
The B-side is "Trash, Trampoline, and The Party Girl" -- which in my time and place was only available as a live version on "Under A Blood Red Sky" or on said mix tapes. Now, at least, it's on the Best Of 80-90 B-sides. So, yay for that, because I love that song beyond all reason.
Anyway, these days, we're spoiled rotten thanks to the internet (get offa mah lawn, you kids! sorry, gotta practice my fogie schtick). Via eBay (all hail!), it's possible to acquire the 45 (mint condition!), and yes, I do plan to acquire it at some point (buying a 45 in 2006?! omg, does that make me a hipster? *shudder*), although I won't be able to play it until I can set up Ye Olde Turntable (i.e. when we have a bigger house). And good grief, don't get me started about digital music. I'll just start muttering about C90s and levels and kids these days don't know how good they got it and where'd I put my felt-tip pens again?
Scarce though the single was, the video was like frickin' Elvis ("Terry says he's seen it!" "Tcha, right"). Granted, my peers and I relied on the occasional video dance at school, a handful of Canadian-produced music shows and, on the rare chance the antenna could pick it up from across the lake (*waves at good ol' upstate New York*), Friday Night Videos. In short, we took what we could get. I didn't have 24/7 access to videos until we moved to an area with cable in 1987, and I watched Much Music practically 24/7 for some time after that (esp. if there was a hint of U2 being on -- specials, interviews, old footage from New Music, retrospectives -- name it, I watched it). But I never saw the video for "A Celebration" -- I would've remembered.
U2 have been my one true band since 1983; I finally saw this video for the first time tonight, 2006. That's rather nifty, if strange (hell, in 1983 I didn't think the world would still be around by my next birthday, which makes this all even more strange, since the song talks about nuclear war). Mind you, it's not the best video they've ever done and it's possibly the cheesiest (though Meiert Avis also directed the best videos of their early career), and the quality bites even if you make accomodations for the usual YouTube foibles (U2, YouTube; huh, neat). Lyric comprehension's a bit of a challenge (though I confess our sound card is getting crunchy, it may just be me) so just in case, here you go. You'll almost surely laugh -- the video's terribly dated (it was 1982, people, where do I begin? the hair? the clothes? the effects?).
Have I talked you out of watching it? Wondering why I'm going all rock journo about how the legendary Grail of my youth turned out to be more like a mug saying "souvenir of tight pants and an out of control fog machine"? Expecting me to feel disappointed, let down, at the very least? Well, here's the thing: I'm not. Exactly the opposite, in fact.
Now, they're the biggest band on the planet. The height of cool. Monsters of rock, sex gods, superstars, etc. Long may it be so, say I, with my big ol' fangirl heart on my sleeve.
In 1982, however, they were still kids, gifted with a kind of awkward chutzpah, raw talent and earnestness. At the crux of "fuck this, let's go into accounting," and "fuck that, we're doing what we love," and thank g-d they chose the latter, because the next time they put something out into the world, they really, really got it right.
The subject line of this post contains the last two lines of the song. We have all, at some point, stood on a threshold like that.
Some of us are, right this moment.