The best times begin here:
Another drunken music-obsessed entry? Yup. This is my time, bitches.
First - Daniel Johnston is still tops. God it would have been great to see an Austin show from the days when he ate Big Macs from the McDonald's dumpster. So I say this: if you've never gotten into Daniel, pick up "The Late, Great," as it features a ton! of great bands doing covers of his stuff. And a second disc of the originals. It might make it a mite more accessible. Gawd, I love Eef Barzelay when he covers other people's songs. He's on the disc, but man: check out Clem's cover of "I'll Be Your Mirror." That's Velvet Underground to generations X-Z.
Update! So I meant to play open mic tonight, but it didn't pan out. See, I have a problem with remembering lyrics, including my own. Next week, then.
The fun I had: playing and singing Magnetic Fields pretending I was Conor Oberst. One thing I notice about that: when you sing like Conor, you spit a lot. I wonder if Mr. Oberst had ever attempted wooing a lady with his playing and singing and then ruuined it all by spitting on her/them. Wait? What? He's too hot? Oh, okay. So spit doesn't matter in his case.
Oh, and then playing and singing Postal Service songs in the style of Johnny Cash. That was fun. Open mic next week, kids!
First - Daniel Johnston is still tops. God it would have been great to see an Austin show from the days when he ate Big Macs from the McDonald's dumpster. So I say this: if you've never gotten into Daniel, pick up "The Late, Great," as it features a ton! of great bands doing covers of his stuff. And a second disc of the originals. It might make it a mite more accessible. Gawd, I love Eef Barzelay when he covers other people's songs. He's on the disc, but man: check out Clem's cover of "I'll Be Your Mirror." That's Velvet Underground to generations X-Z.
Update! So I meant to play open mic tonight, but it didn't pan out. See, I have a problem with remembering lyrics, including my own. Next week, then.
The fun I had: playing and singing Magnetic Fields pretending I was Conor Oberst. One thing I notice about that: when you sing like Conor, you spit a lot. I wonder if Mr. Oberst had ever attempted wooing a lady with his playing and singing and then ruuined it all by spitting on her/them. Wait? What? He's too hot? Oh, okay. So spit doesn't matter in his case.
Oh, and then playing and singing Postal Service songs in the style of Johnny Cash. That was fun. Open mic next week, kids!