to nobody else
Thing that amused me the most today: Marissa Nadler has released a second volume of covers just for those of us who ordered the album directly from her. When she tweeted about having finished one of them sometime last week, she said it was Learning To Fly and I immediately responded with a joyful "Omg, that's my favourite Floyd song, yay, can't wait to hear your version!"
This morning I got the email with the link to said covers volume and eagerly scrolled through to see what else she'd covered. And haaaaaa, I'm such a dork. It never even occurred to me that there might be some other song called Learning To Fly. Hers is the Tom Petty song. And then my heart leapt at seeing Motel Blues and I was like "Omg Big Star?!" Um, no, Loudon Wainwright which made me go "Waaaaaaitaminit, was the Big Star song I love a cover itself of the Wainwright song?" Turns out, yes. And then I got very excited to see Sara ... only to discover it's the Bob Dylan song, not Fleetwood Mac.
*falls over laughing*
Isn't that hilarious? Three for three. Well, sort of. Three and a half, really. Three and a half times I was totally wrong because my music knowledge skews all over its own crazed area and not the full proper spectrum.
Funny how despite my dislike of both the younger Wainwrights and my slight attraction to the father, I'm enough of this generation of the younger to want to back away from the father. *eyetwitch*
But then I felt the same wariness of Tim because of Jeff, didn't I? And look at us now. Only Jeff never called his album/EP Bloody Mother Fucking Asshole about Tim. *cough* No, we have don't be like the one who made me so old and Jeff's fervent fanboy love of Starsailor and well, he never got to grow past that and never could collaborate.
Lost chances, man. Carpe fucking diem. Hallo, Mr Chips.
I watched Goodbye, Mr Chips last night in an effort to get away from all the war movies I've rented out this weekend and goddamn, it tore my heart right out. I don't think I've ever seen Robert Donat in anything although his name is so familiar it feels like I should have. I always confuse Donat with Walker with Montgomery with Taylor anyway. Wait, no, not Walker, I could never confuse Robert Walker with anyone. Beautiful fucked up ridiculouly talented actor that he is. Was.
I wish my copy of The Scarlet Pimpernel would get here already. I wish I had so many more Leslie movies. I wish ... oh, a lot of things.
But I'll settle for having the power restored to my laptop, yay. Even if it now means I'm severely cashstrapped for the next fortnight. But hey, at least I'm not living in the Great Depression. Let's maintain a sense of proportion here. :p
This morning I got the email with the link to said covers volume and eagerly scrolled through to see what else she'd covered. And haaaaaa, I'm such a dork. It never even occurred to me that there might be some other song called Learning To Fly. Hers is the Tom Petty song. And then my heart leapt at seeing Motel Blues and I was like "Omg Big Star?!" Um, no, Loudon Wainwright which made me go "Waaaaaaitaminit, was the Big Star song I love a cover itself of the Wainwright song?" Turns out, yes. And then I got very excited to see Sara ... only to discover it's the Bob Dylan song, not Fleetwood Mac.
*falls over laughing*
Isn't that hilarious? Three for three. Well, sort of. Three and a half, really. Three and a half times I was totally wrong because my music knowledge skews all over its own crazed area and not the full proper spectrum.
Funny how despite my dislike of both the younger Wainwrights and my slight attraction to the father, I'm enough of this generation of the younger to want to back away from the father. *eyetwitch*
But then I felt the same wariness of Tim because of Jeff, didn't I? And look at us now. Only Jeff never called his album/EP Bloody Mother Fucking Asshole about Tim. *cough* No, we have don't be like the one who made me so old and Jeff's fervent fanboy love of Starsailor and well, he never got to grow past that and never could collaborate.
Lost chances, man. Carpe fucking diem. Hallo, Mr Chips.
I watched Goodbye, Mr Chips last night in an effort to get away from all the war movies I've rented out this weekend and goddamn, it tore my heart right out. I don't think I've ever seen Robert Donat in anything although his name is so familiar it feels like I should have. I always confuse Donat with Walker with Montgomery with Taylor anyway. Wait, no, not Walker, I could never confuse Robert Walker with anyone. Beautiful fucked up ridiculouly talented actor that he is. Was.
I wish my copy of The Scarlet Pimpernel would get here already. I wish I had so many more Leslie movies. I wish ... oh, a lot of things.
But I'll settle for having the power restored to my laptop, yay. Even if it now means I'm severely cashstrapped for the next fortnight. But hey, at least I'm not living in the Great Depression. Let's maintain a sense of proportion here. :p