the music entry that I should have posted two weeks ago
01. I was in the middle of a Finnish music phase when Kaileen came home two weeks ago. Kaileen of course had to play me some Xavier Rudd and show me the video for Escarpment Blues by Sarah Harmer who she saw at the Hamilton stop on the If YOU Were Prime Minister tour. Of course she did.
I somehow went from listening to metal nonstop to folk rock nonstop. Now I’m in the middle stage; a little Finntroll* here, a little Devendra Banhart there.
Now my playlist looks something like this:
Marianne Faithfull
Soulrelic
Matt Mays
Katra
Bright Eyes
Reflexion
Neutral Milk Hotel
Finntroll
Elliott Smith
Korpiklaani
Devendra Banhart
Apocalyptica
Neil Young
Nightwish
Sam Roberts
Jane’s Addiction (not either folk or metal, but I am addicted)
Sentenced
Cat Power
The 69 Eyes
02. Some days I hate that I relate music to reality. My habit has begun to ruin music for me.
For example, beginning in my childhood it became a tradition of sorts to listen to Counting Crows while travelling**. Today the tapes of August And Every After we owned have worn out and I can only listen to the CD at my house. Despite this, every time I listen to the album I’m struck with nausea and I remember the long eight hour car rides we took four times a year. I feel so dizzy and drained and I want to throw up everywhere. It’s not a particularly pleasant experience, which annoys me, as I love the album.
Sometimes I have flashes of my childhood. A certain word will take me tumbling back into my depressed childhood and I see the dreams and false memories I used to cherish. I also remember the songs. There are two distinct songs I remember. The first is Everclear’s Santa Monica, the keyword being “suitcase” and the second is You Oughta Know by Alanis Morissette, the word being “dinner.”
When I think of both those songs I can remember this dream (or maybe it was a music video - a real one or one I made up as a child) of this dark attic, a storm blowing outside and an empty suitcase in the middle of the room. There’s a figure in the shadows of the attic, watching the storm through the window overlooking the ocean. And then somehow I'm downstairs and Alanis comes storming in from outside, drenched, fuming mad as she confront the man, "I hate to bug you in the middle of dinner. It was a slap in the face. How quickly I was replaced. And are you thinking of me when you fuck her?"
Of course, I rather dislike both songs and both bands now, but I was only five when they came out.
03. On a similar note (of bands I listened to long ago), I have rekindled my love for Jane's Addiction, and once again in particular, Jane Says. Somehow watching the video makes me love the song and Perry Farrell hundreds of times more than I already did. I feel unexplainably dreamy, downhearted and delighted all at the same time. Good Davey! The hair! The clothing! Dave Navarro in a leather mini skirt! Flea! The dancing! Steel drums! The crazy-ass people everywhere! The green fairy! Perry's gorgeous vocals!
All bands should put on performances like this.
And ha! They mentioned Jane's Addiction on Gilmore Girls a couple weeks ago. "And your mother probably wasn't expecting a child who listens to Jane's Addiction." I had a mini heart attack, as I spent most of that Tuesday fawning over the band. Can we say coincidence?
04. I was listening to Patrick Wolf’s new album awhile back and in the song Magpie*** there is a line that goes, “One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, four for a boy, five for silver, six for gold, seven for a secret, never to be told.”
Now, I’m sitting there gaping, rambling to no one about blatant plagiarism because the band Counting Crows has a song with the same lyrics. So I go on a search on the internet and discover that it’s an old divination rhyme about the European Magpie, a bird associated with all things despondent and troubling. Apparently, the number of magpies you see predicts the future. Maybe it’s because it’s an old English rhyme and an English bird that I didn’t know about it before now, but I still feel rather unintelligent.
I also learnt that the poem is where Counting Crows got their name. This is all so hardcore and fabulous. I adore bands that have meaning and history behind their names, it makes them all the more special.
*You know, I suppose Finntroll and Korpiklaani are folk metal bands, so they could have been the catalyst for the abrupt folk addiction.
**The tradition probably started because it was the only tape (besides Green Days' Dookie) that the Muzzer would allow us to play in the car for everyone to hear (Muzzer wasn't into our music back then, but three years of homeschooling in which I play music the entire day has turned Muzzer into a [somewhat] metal fan. She even sings along to my music randomly, which always scares me).
***Ooo! Marianne Faithfull sings in this song and others on the Magic Position. The duets of them together are just gorgeous; I swoon and fawn and fan myself everytime I hear those particular songs.
I somehow went from listening to metal nonstop to folk rock nonstop. Now I’m in the middle stage; a little Finntroll* here, a little Devendra Banhart there.
Now my playlist looks something like this:
Marianne Faithfull
Soulrelic
Matt Mays
Katra
Bright Eyes
Reflexion
Neutral Milk Hotel
Finntroll
Elliott Smith
Korpiklaani
Devendra Banhart
Apocalyptica
Neil Young
Nightwish
Sam Roberts
Jane’s Addiction (not either folk or metal, but I am addicted)
Sentenced
Cat Power
The 69 Eyes
02. Some days I hate that I relate music to reality. My habit has begun to ruin music for me.
For example, beginning in my childhood it became a tradition of sorts to listen to Counting Crows while travelling**. Today the tapes of August And Every After we owned have worn out and I can only listen to the CD at my house. Despite this, every time I listen to the album I’m struck with nausea and I remember the long eight hour car rides we took four times a year. I feel so dizzy and drained and I want to throw up everywhere. It’s not a particularly pleasant experience, which annoys me, as I love the album.
Sometimes I have flashes of my childhood. A certain word will take me tumbling back into my depressed childhood and I see the dreams and false memories I used to cherish. I also remember the songs. There are two distinct songs I remember. The first is Everclear’s Santa Monica, the keyword being “suitcase” and the second is You Oughta Know by Alanis Morissette, the word being “dinner.”
When I think of both those songs I can remember this dream (or maybe it was a music video - a real one or one I made up as a child) of this dark attic, a storm blowing outside and an empty suitcase in the middle of the room. There’s a figure in the shadows of the attic, watching the storm through the window overlooking the ocean. And then somehow I'm downstairs and Alanis comes storming in from outside, drenched, fuming mad as she confront the man, "I hate to bug you in the middle of dinner. It was a slap in the face. How quickly I was replaced. And are you thinking of me when you fuck her?"
Of course, I rather dislike both songs and both bands now, but I was only five when they came out.
03. On a similar note (of bands I listened to long ago), I have rekindled my love for Jane's Addiction, and once again in particular, Jane Says. Somehow watching the video makes me love the song and Perry Farrell hundreds of times more than I already did. I feel unexplainably dreamy, downhearted and delighted all at the same time. Good Davey! The hair! The clothing! Dave Navarro in a leather mini skirt! Flea! The dancing! Steel drums! The crazy-ass people everywhere! The green fairy! Perry's gorgeous vocals!
All bands should put on performances like this.
And ha! They mentioned Jane's Addiction on Gilmore Girls a couple weeks ago. "And your mother probably wasn't expecting a child who listens to Jane's Addiction." I had a mini heart attack, as I spent most of that Tuesday fawning over the band. Can we say coincidence?
04. I was listening to Patrick Wolf’s new album awhile back and in the song Magpie*** there is a line that goes, “One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, four for a boy, five for silver, six for gold, seven for a secret, never to be told.”
Now, I’m sitting there gaping, rambling to no one about blatant plagiarism because the band Counting Crows has a song with the same lyrics. So I go on a search on the internet and discover that it’s an old divination rhyme about the European Magpie, a bird associated with all things despondent and troubling. Apparently, the number of magpies you see predicts the future. Maybe it’s because it’s an old English rhyme and an English bird that I didn’t know about it before now, but I still feel rather unintelligent.
I also learnt that the poem is where Counting Crows got their name. This is all so hardcore and fabulous. I adore bands that have meaning and history behind their names, it makes them all the more special.
*You know, I suppose Finntroll and Korpiklaani are folk metal bands, so they could have been the catalyst for the abrupt folk addiction.
**The tradition probably started because it was the only tape (besides Green Days' Dookie) that the Muzzer would allow us to play in the car for everyone to hear (Muzzer wasn't into our music back then, but three years of homeschooling in which I play music the entire day has turned Muzzer into a [somewhat] metal fan. She even sings along to my music randomly, which always scares me).
***Ooo! Marianne Faithfull sings in this song and others on the Magic Position. The duets of them together are just gorgeous; I swoon and fawn and fan myself everytime I hear those particular songs.