in 2011, there were songs. Oh yes. and there were bands. and there were songs by bands and bands banning songs they used to play and I didn't so much make a list of "the best of" because I am still hearing songs that came out in 2011, and probably will be, well into 2017, because that is how music works. Rarely does anyone simply immerse themselves in "the now" in a way that doesn't also make them look a little bit silly. Here are some songs that I heard a lot of times in 2011, most of them on purpose. I'll bet you could get a good buzz on if you made a drinking game out of the ones that I'd already posted at some point, and forgot about. Most of these are just sound, but there's a couple videos.
Mogwai's album from January is still good 90% of the way through (that opener is a snooooze) and should not be relegated to any sort of bins. This song sparked my interest in actually checking out Mogwai for real, since people had been assuming that I already liked them for years.
The Obits are one of those bands that deserve a bigger following, but most of their fans listen to no new bands except the Obits. They will never write a hit, but they have a lot of cred, and sometimes they write things that sound like hits from a weird alternate-universe mashup of 91-93, 1980, and 2001, just after "fell in love with a girl" came out. "Moody, Standard, and Poor" is a good record.
I assumed Blue Sky Black Death were from Bristol, or France, or Latvia because of their gorgeous instrumental beats/melodies. Guess they're from Seattle. Huh.
. . . of course, everyone and everyone and everyone's mom who knows that Shabazz Palaces are from Seattle because HOLY SHIT SHABAZZ PALACES EVERYONE! EVERYONE! SEATTLE HAS RAPPY TYPES! EVERYONE!
"lana del ray" "odd future" "___________"
Brielle moved to Chicago this year. Go, Brielle, go!
I was gonna do a whole double-entendre thing about this band being called The Men, but realized it would be labored and hackneyed. If they were just called "Men," though, that'd be awesome.
(see also, a few posts down, the Thee Oh Sees clip for the continued up-bubbling of punk/psych/garage from various bits of the nation)
Chuck Klosterman pissed this band's fans off. I won't post a link, I'll just say that Klosterman's gotten fuckin' lazy in recent years, and tuneyards fans are touchy folk. Less people need to write about how a Feminist Woman Artist writing about rough fucking is a Statement, and more people need to write about how it is awesome.
Stay weird, Annie.
One night, after working 13 hours combined jobs, a little drunk off beers from work, I wanted to listen to something funny and aggro and weird and didn't feel like FOTL (I know, RIGHT?!) and so I loaded this video up to play this awesome song by these awesome rappers and the internet in Rainier Beach is so slow that it never played and I was angry at 3 a.m. and put on an episode of "Its Always Sunny In Philadelphia" but it woke up my housemate, who had to work at 8 a.m. so I had to turn that off as well. Marty has since gotten the internet fixed.
Momma's gonna buy you a mockingbird.
This song can play from start to finish three times in a row, starting at Westlake Station and ending at Northgate Transit Center. The sheer fucking amount of times this has soundtracked the sunset over Lake Union, or the roll out at rush hour by exit 173, or the absolute lack of any view at all.
Showing posts with label 2011. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2011. Show all posts
Wednesday, 8 February 2012
Thursday, 2 February 2012
Leftovers from '11 (part 1 of 1, or maybe 3)
or the Less Vague, Less Angsty Version
This post went missing for a while and could probably use editing/adding to. But as much as I love reflecting, I'd much rather start looking forward. still, there's a certain gnawing regret everytime I SAY I'll do a big wrap-up post and don't, so here you go. . .
People
The Big Stories this year: Rachel "Not Drugs" Hug and Zion Monillas at the beginning of the year and the passing of Aunt Betty and Nana near the end. Rachel, being the girl who I am boyfriend to, was introduced to me by mutual friend Star, who was pretty sick of my vague, glum pronouncements about not getting any/meeting rad girls. In an effort to solve at least one of those problems, on the 2nd of January Star brought Rachel and I together under the roof of St. James'Catholic Church. It took a few months to convince Not Drugs that I'm not a total waste of time, but we've been together for a while now and its going well. She is super awesome and my girlfriend and gush, gush, etc. I'll stop before you get sick.
Zion Monillas is my nephew. He is almost One. He has lots of dark hair and was birthed by my sister Amara.
Nana and Aunt Betty's passings happened within a month of eachother, making for a lot of funeral in little time. Both are tremendously missed.
Roy Williams visited in February, bringing a slice of South Wales with him. good week.
Writing and performing
So, while I did take a few solid stabs at things like National Poetry Month and other such productivities, this wasn't as great a year for new hot brilliance. That said, I did something like 15 readings around the state, so that's at least an event a month. Highlights include the first (and heretofore only) Muxbo Symposium, the Claustrophobia kickoff and Cheap Wine and Poetry. Not Drugs and I launched the Claustrophobia Readings Series, somewhat in limbo at the moment as we ponder forward movement with it.
Now the Host of Works in Progress at Hugo House.
Living
In 2011 I've had three different mailing addresses, and four living spaces. This is as stressful as it sounds, though I gotta shout out my friends for helping me out when I needed it.
I bottommed out sometime late '10 on doing Really Cool Internships For Free For Great People. . .
still, working/finding/searching for work has largely been a series of discouragements or ego bruises. Interviews, a week-long tenure as a canvasserI don't interview well. I still work at The Loft, tend bar at Orcas Landing (scroll down) and occasionally pick up extra tutoring shifts.
Travel
Korea! See posts about it from earlier this year.
Aging
I am 30 years old now. completely different, exactly the same.
To be continued? Posts about Twin Peaks, about Being In A Relationship, about Politics, about writing with little time to do so, fighting monsters, creating more interesting ways to reflect on years. . .
This post went missing for a while and could probably use editing/adding to. But as much as I love reflecting, I'd much rather start looking forward. still, there's a certain gnawing regret everytime I SAY I'll do a big wrap-up post and don't, so here you go. . .
People
The Big Stories this year: Rachel "Not Drugs" Hug and Zion Monillas at the beginning of the year and the passing of Aunt Betty and Nana near the end. Rachel, being the girl who I am boyfriend to, was introduced to me by mutual friend Star, who was pretty sick of my vague, glum pronouncements about not getting any/meeting rad girls. In an effort to solve at least one of those problems, on the 2nd of January Star brought Rachel and I together under the roof of St. James'Catholic Church. It took a few months to convince Not Drugs that I'm not a total waste of time, but we've been together for a while now and its going well. She is super awesome and my girlfriend and gush, gush, etc. I'll stop before you get sick.
Zion Monillas is my nephew. He is almost One. He has lots of dark hair and was birthed by my sister Amara.
Nana and Aunt Betty's passings happened within a month of eachother, making for a lot of funeral in little time. Both are tremendously missed.
Roy Williams visited in February, bringing a slice of South Wales with him. good week.
Writing and performing
So, while I did take a few solid stabs at things like National Poetry Month and other such productivities, this wasn't as great a year for new hot brilliance. That said, I did something like 15 readings around the state, so that's at least an event a month. Highlights include the first (and heretofore only) Muxbo Symposium, the Claustrophobia kickoff and Cheap Wine and Poetry. Not Drugs and I launched the Claustrophobia Readings Series, somewhat in limbo at the moment as we ponder forward movement with it.
Now the Host of Works in Progress at Hugo House.
Living
In 2011 I've had three different mailing addresses, and four living spaces. This is as stressful as it sounds, though I gotta shout out my friends for helping me out when I needed it.
I bottommed out sometime late '10 on doing Really Cool Internships For Free For Great People. . .
still, working/finding/searching for work has largely been a series of discouragements or ego bruises. Interviews, a week-long tenure as a canvasserI don't interview well. I still work at The Loft, tend bar at Orcas Landing (scroll down) and occasionally pick up extra tutoring shifts.
Travel
Korea! See posts about it from earlier this year.
Aging
I am 30 years old now. completely different, exactly the same.
To be continued? Posts about Twin Peaks, about Being In A Relationship, about Politics, about writing with little time to do so, fighting monsters, creating more interesting ways to reflect on years. . .
Saturday, 31 December 2011
Recap in Eleven Sentences.
If I had the technology, the know-how, the patience, there'd be a graph with several arrows and a few would bounce straight along, a couple would shoot towards the top line-markers and the rest would drop right off.
The more I am blessed/burdened with the cars of others, the less I want one for myself, as a solo individual. Kids, family, these potential eventualities could dictate otherwise, but there's a certain yoke-around-the-neck about having a car, despite the obvious opportunities it affords. It is bad enough having a phone.
There were a lot of poems I meant to write.
There were a lot of albums I meant to hear.
The world does not seem to want us on it any more.
Currently, this day, this moment, I have a hard time picturing "fun" tonight; there's so much I have to do and only some of it have I any clue how. I tend to consistently resent the holidays for draining me of all financial, emotional and energy resources right before I'm supposed to really focus on goals that remain a good climb away.
There were a lot of movies I thought might be kind of nice to see, but knew for sure I wouldn't have the time or money.
All that said, I'm taking aim; it always takes longer than one thinks, but that doesn't mean it won't happen.
The more I am blessed/burdened with the cars of others, the less I want one for myself, as a solo individual. Kids, family, these potential eventualities could dictate otherwise, but there's a certain yoke-around-the-neck about having a car, despite the obvious opportunities it affords. It is bad enough having a phone.
There were a lot of poems I meant to write.
There were a lot of albums I meant to hear.
The world does not seem to want us on it any more.
Currently, this day, this moment, I have a hard time picturing "fun" tonight; there's so much I have to do and only some of it have I any clue how. I tend to consistently resent the holidays for draining me of all financial, emotional and energy resources right before I'm supposed to really focus on goals that remain a good climb away.
There were a lot of movies I thought might be kind of nice to see, but knew for sure I wouldn't have the time or money.
All that said, I'm taking aim; it always takes longer than one thinks, but that doesn't mean it won't happen.
Sunday, 30 January 2011
My Year in Lists Part 3
Things I have found during a recent sweep/straightening of the corners of my bedroom, near the end of 2010/beginning 2011:
4 Stacks of American Education Services, Citibank and American Student Loan Services letters of varying relevance, addressed to the old Stanwood address.
2 of the same, but addressed to my current address in Seattle.
3 broadsides of "Genus, Species and Flavour"
7 chapbooks: readers copies of the first three, a misprint of "TWWCHNT: New Revised Standard" and three Ourosboros.
A handwrittend Shane Guthrie piece about condos (yes!)
A stack of photos from the first three months at Ty Beck.
A cd jewel case to Goodness' 1995 self-titled debut album.
3 different scraps of paper with unexplaned british phone numbers.
about 7 different copies of "When Saying Mean Things About Strangers."
Phone numbers from two different ex-girlfriends, acquired prior to our dating.
about 17 differnt crumpled up bank statements from the last two years.
Postcards from three different New York art galleries.
Chapters 1-26 of a book my Dad wrote and lent me, separately stapled and all out of order (read, enjoyed, feedback pending)
a stack of unopened letters from DSHS.
w-2a from Richard Hugo House, Vera Project and North Seattle Community College.
5 drafts of Vera Project's Powersharing Statement Language.
Notes from an interview with Trevor, intern at Vera Project, about the DJ/electronic scene in Seattle (barely legible)
A burned copy of Mastodon's "Leviathan" album (scratched)
Three unfinished Mix CDs, titles scribbled out.
9 different hastily-scribbled setlists for past poetry readings.
9,384 dust bunnies (not very bunny like)
A photo of the one time Phil Woodward came to IOI in 1999, staring at Shane in disbelief.
1 flyer for dianetics.
1 Visitor information card from St James Catholic Church (visited once)
Handwritten lyrics to "It's a Laugh" by Hall and Oates
A copy of "Big Machine" by Victor Lavalle (read, enjoyed)
A copy of "Financial Lives of the Poets" by Jess Walters (unread, probably will sell)
The last flattering photo taken of me, taken July '11 at Bimbo's cantina with Leigh, Emily, Alex and Bryan; I was looking away from the camera and sort of almost smiling. It's all downhill from there.
4 Stacks of American Education Services, Citibank and American Student Loan Services letters of varying relevance, addressed to the old Stanwood address.
2 of the same, but addressed to my current address in Seattle.
3 broadsides of "Genus, Species and Flavour"
7 chapbooks: readers copies of the first three, a misprint of "TWWCHNT: New Revised Standard" and three Ourosboros.
A handwrittend Shane Guthrie piece about condos (yes!)
A stack of photos from the first three months at Ty Beck.
A cd jewel case to Goodness' 1995 self-titled debut album.
3 different scraps of paper with unexplaned british phone numbers.
about 7 different copies of "When Saying Mean Things About Strangers."
Phone numbers from two different ex-girlfriends, acquired prior to our dating.
about 17 differnt crumpled up bank statements from the last two years.
Postcards from three different New York art galleries.
Chapters 1-26 of a book my Dad wrote and lent me, separately stapled and all out of order (read, enjoyed, feedback pending)
a stack of unopened letters from DSHS.
w-2a from Richard Hugo House, Vera Project and North Seattle Community College.
5 drafts of Vera Project's Powersharing Statement Language.
Notes from an interview with Trevor, intern at Vera Project, about the DJ/electronic scene in Seattle (barely legible)
A burned copy of Mastodon's "Leviathan" album (scratched)
Three unfinished Mix CDs, titles scribbled out.
9 different hastily-scribbled setlists for past poetry readings.
9,384 dust bunnies (not very bunny like)
A photo of the one time Phil Woodward came to IOI in 1999, staring at Shane in disbelief.
1 flyer for dianetics.
1 Visitor information card from St James Catholic Church (visited once)
Handwritten lyrics to "It's a Laugh" by Hall and Oates
A copy of "Big Machine" by Victor Lavalle (read, enjoyed)
A copy of "Financial Lives of the Poets" by Jess Walters (unread, probably will sell)
The last flattering photo taken of me, taken July '11 at Bimbo's cantina with Leigh, Emily, Alex and Bryan; I was looking away from the camera and sort of almost smiling. It's all downhill from there.
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