because it is nearing the end of february

That means that if I post my "favorite records of 2007" list, I'll still be ahead of schedule for my stated "you can't really know until June" stance. But the list of '07 releases I want to check out keeps expanding in bands, genres and albums, so it's not going to get any easier. Some of this is a result of de-kneejerking reactions to critically acclaimed bits, some of it's the result of randomly hearing things I haven't had the time to check out yet and some of it has to do with the fact that a lot of albums I would be putting on my list are hard to come by over here and I don't have the quid to do so anyways. Come by them, that is. Yeah. It's been a couple years since I actually wrote a list like this, but it's really fun to do, and especially if you haven't in a while. I'd do one for movies, but I seriously didn't see enough movies to say what was good and what wasn't.

In rough, but by no means any sort of exact order, 2007.

Albums I Overplayed Because it is my Sincere Belief that they are Awesome

Liars-- Liars This is a group I've always enjoyed, but this is the first record I went out and bought, partly because I wanted something to take to Wales that wouldn't remind me of the last six months in Bellingham. It doesn't. The great thing about it isn't the fact that they combine droney drumloop-and-noise numbers with junk-funk, jerky dance rock and even some vaguely elephant-6 sounding pop, it's that they do it in a way that makes sense sonically for one to follow the other.

Future of the Left-- Curses Of course the new record from Andy Falkous (McLusky) is going to be somewhere on this list, but even I couldn't have guessed it'd be so high up. FOTL is less noisy and they bring in some damaged keyboards to replace guitars a few times, but it all works. Falco is still as twisted and brilliant a lyricist as he's ever been and his melodic pallette has expanded as well.

Spoon-- Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga Of the Big Indie Rock Albums of '07, this is the only one I can sit through the entirety of without rolling my eyes even once, let alone think every track is killer. Not as flashily catchy or dancy as their last one, but I think it holds up better on repeated listens.

Super Furry Animals-- Hey Venus! Their current respectable U.S. following notwithstanding, I'm convinced that if SFA had Englishy accents that people were used to consuming instead of their very-Welsh lilts, they'd be much bigger. But the Welshness, honestly is part of it in the same way that Blur was so very English. And this record is full of great shimmery pop with humor and heart.

Clockcleaner-- Babylon Rules After writing a sentence like "great shimmery pop with humor and heart" I have to recommend this album, which runs like a smarter version of early Butthole Surfers and perhaps slightly more melodic Scratch Acid and contains lyrics like "when my ship comes in/will you still let me fill you with children?"

Aesop Rock-- None Shall Pass Aesop Rock seems intent on getting more and less accessible at once. Here though, he shifts away from some of the battle-rap affectations of his last record and tells stories, funny, sad and largely surreal narratives; it's only appropriate that John Darnielle (mountain goats) guests on the last track.

Shellac-- An Excellent Italian Greyhound Shellac are one of those bands that people (including myself) tend to pay lip service too more than listen. This album I've listened to a lot, however; maybe I get Albini's humor better now, or maybe the slightly almost pretty bits prove the "spoonful of sugar" theory. Either way, I actually think this record is better than most on my list before it, but in the interest of listening-disclosure I won't pretend I haven't jammed out to FOTL or Liars more.

Black Kids-- Wizard of Ahhhs EP I'm already preparing my backlash rant for when these precocious youngster's Cure-plays-the-oldies schtick can't carry a full album any more than "No Cars Go" could sustain the rest of Neon Bible. But for now, damn.

The White Stripes-- Icky Thump I probably wouldn't have guessed that The White Stripes and Queens of the Stone Age would release albums in the same year and that the Stripes' album would be heavier and trippier.

The National-- Boxer I resisted this record for a long time but discovered it late in the year when it rained for about two months straight and suddenly the acoustic-electric thing wasn't so annoying and hey-- these songs are pretty melodic and hey-- this guy can write lyrics. Really, really understated-but-still devastating lyrics.

Big Business-- Here Come the Waterworks These guys joined the Melvins, and the Melvins made their best album in about fifteen years. Kicker is, Big Business' album is even better. Heavy-approaching-metal, minimalist but melodic, and Phil Ek's production just brings out all the band's strengths. Their first release that equals the sonic gut-punch of their live shows.

Radiohead-- In Rainbows This is at the bottom not because it's not my favorite, but because it almost came out in 2008, really. Either way, I've been listening to this band long enough that they wouldn't have to be at top form for me to enjoy it (as Hail to the Thief proved) but I'd say that right here they're at top form. They're comfortable tweaking their sound instead of re-inventing it, and it's probably the highest concentration of memorable Radiohead songs since OK Computer.


that's the list I allow myself. There were other albums I meant to hear more fully-- Wu Tang, Lupe Fiasco, Cave Singers, AA Bondy, Feist, A Place to Bury Strangers, Andrew Bird, High on Fire, Feral Children, etc-- and so on. I think with moving out of Bellingham* and no longer feeling the compulsion to document or immerse myself in regional sounds it's like my music-radar is beeping full blast again, ironically while I've less means of procuring it.
*The fact that no Bellingham/Seattle bands are included on my list isn't because there was no music from there I listened to, but at some point when your friends make a killer record it's hard to tell if it's rad because it's rad, or because it's your friends. At least for me. Some folks differentiate a lot better. Suffice to say, I did have Police Teeth, Patience Please, The Russians and Cicadas on the long version.
I was gonna do more lists about other things (albums that bummed me out-- two gallants, arcade fire or albums that bummed other people out but I thought were fine-- new pornographers, modest mouse) but I need to go back to writing my short story, which is about a man who decides to live in a tree while continuing to work at an office downtown. There are lots of thoughts that swirl around late at night when I'm blogging and many things I could talk about, but I chose to write about music instead.

story of my life, I guess.

"call it."

Just saw No Country For Old Men. That'll do ya.

afterwards John and I arrived at Gerald and Jess had started The Virgin Suicides. Given what I'd just seen and a few other factors, I wasn't up to a soft-focus romantic look at suicide, so I hung out for a little while, but left before everyone was dead.

I think "leaving before everyone is dead" is a pretty good policy I'll try to stick to.

coming together in relative ways

It's the first sunny morning in over a month. I'm in my pajamas catching up on the day's internet, listening to one of my favorite albums of all time. The day is completely free of scheduled events, but I have things I can get done, and will. Tuesday I was walking downtown in the rain when Thom from Framework Social caught up with me. . . "Graham. . . the poet, right?" So I've got a gig in February. Tommorrow I'm going to Cardiff and the oldest independent record store in the world. Last night Courtney and I talked about God. Wood and I talked about Julian Cope. Yesterday I made up a CV. I'm awake, refreshed and anticipatory. Not a lot of days start like this and I think it's worth noting.

Here's to looking ahead, unironically.

In lieu of staking out the pub with a sketchpad

I am sitting at my laptop with a fresh hot cup of (instant) coffee, not because I need coffee to be awake at 5pm, but because the image of the writer at his computer with a cup of coffee is about as ingrained and romanticized for me as the image of the writer in the corner of a wood-paneled bar drinking whisky and staring grimly at a notebook. All those times I went to Caps with my journal and a pen and sat at the counter or in the corner? Yeah, the night might have ended with me at table with two to several others of various acquaintance and myself a few more drinks in and dollars out than I intended at the start. But I really only did go to write, and maybe just as important, feel like I was writing. The rest started out bonus and ended up an expected (sometimes regrettable) part of the routine.

A week into 2008 and I'm working on working on setting new routines. I'm a creature of habit but I get restless quickly. Kat told me I shouldn't worry about in October living in a not-my-home country without a job or place to live and a still fairly useless degree, pointing out that I crave the instability. Also, that it's only January and I always seem to skate right under the razor's edge in these sorts of situations.

The three weeks before courses resumes I have an extensive list of accomplishments to enact, ranging from general cleanup of my room to looking for work to getting some financial stuff sorted out with loan companies to sending off submissions of poetry and criticism to various publications. It's not a list of entirely crucial things, but it is entirely crucial I get at least some of it done.

I put too much sugar in my coffee. I think part of the romantic image has the coffee black. I can see why.

It'll be another week or so until everyone not-from-Swansea is in town again post-break. I'm not sure there's enough regular routine leftover from Sep-Dec to fall into, but there's the possibility of resuming friendships that were just starting come break. Re-orient myself to be a little more here-focused, a little less letters-from-home focused.

Most of the time I've got that Tom Petty feeling (the future is wiiiiide open) but there are days when I feel like October can't come fast enough so I can skate back into something familiar, wish I was doing so much more, and not have to deal with the pressures of actually doing it.

a view from the afternoon

to write something like "this is what all the older pubs look like from the outside" would be a broad, sweeping statement that isn't really entirely accurate. but I feel like I've been inside the Swansea Jack even though I've only passed it.

Usually on the way to here:

this is Swansea beach, which basically
stretches the length of the city, as is wont

to happen in "cities by the sea." I don't know why that's in quotes. I do like having a beach

within about a five minute walk from my room and plan on taking greater advantage of it in the coming year. hopefully in spring going there to study will be not ridiculous, with wind and sand all over notes, books and trousers. I only tried that once.

I often wish I'd spent my high school years a little less nervous about consequences and a little more like the person who instead of just joking about this sort of thing, actually did it:

The walls are blankwashed over now, but won't be for long.

not pictured, but I found equally amusing (mainly for it's grammatical qualities) "Rhodri Morgan eats horse shit whilst molesting turkeys." Also, as with any good library bathroom, you can learn all sorts of things about the sexual proclivities of Welsh girls. There's quite a heady debate regarding whether they prefer the company of English gentlemen or their Welsh counterparts. Both sides produce convincing arguments.

If you get tired of pubs like the one pictured at the top of this post but don't want to go to a chain nightclub, and you live in Swansea, you will probably at least once find yourself here:This is where I witnessed a very tall, curly-locked man in a football jersey standing in the middle of the room playing air guitar and headbanging the entire eight minutes duration of "Master of Puppets."

"word, dude."

put you in a picture, show you what I mean

the thing about taking pictures these days is that people are accustomed to digital cameras and being able to instantly flip through and delete, save or adjust, find them on facebook later that night. which is why most of the pictures I've taken recently have been of or at historic sights, beaches, especially bright afternoons or painfully rainy nights. I've a wry suspicon that at the end of my stay at uni, most of the pics I'll have will have a lot more to do with the exceptions than the rules. Because you take out a disposable camera and people get awkward, knowing they won't have the immediate-delete option. Or you can wait til they've knocked a couple back and will pose immediately. . . but then drinking isn't something I want to overreperesent, Lord knows it don't need the help.

which is why my roll of film from scotland is a bit disappointing; not enough people. after a while, pictures of buildings are just pictures of buildings.

when I wrangle campus computers into submission, I'll get a few of those up here


<--- this is the view from my room, mid morning, circa late november. it's a good view, with or without the beer can, and more and more I'm feeling like when you have a good view, it may actually be better not to share it. at least with a bed as small as mine is these days.

secret blog's adventures in travel, cold, callous reasoning

Just back from Scotland. Blogging comes before shaving or washing, apparently. Toothpastefordinner have a comic about that somewhere, or not because it's too obvious.

I had a good time in Glasgow/Edinburgh with Chelsea. I was feeling pretty under the weather for most of it with sneezing and the headaches that come from needing to sneeze but not allowing yourself. That, I fear, made me less awesome at being a guest/rekindling old acquaintanceships.
Nonetheless, I'm glad I went. I'm actually really glad to be in my room now, with no set comitted plans for the rest of the weekend.

my room. it's currently a lot of papers and wrapping and suitcase. Checking the mail has been futile for the last month, but the week I was gone I hit a jackpot.

___----_____-----_____

In Port Talbot, there are lots of industrial parks. Granted, trains always run through that part of town, and I've never been to Port Talbot but I've been by it a few times, as it lies between Cardiff and Swansea on pretty much any line you take.
There's a couple factories in particular that tend to strike me hard, especially in the dark. I'm used to smokestacks, I'm used to solid, opaque black smoke bunching up over buildings and I'm getting used to seeing it float over sheep pastures. Still not used to smokestacks shooting out bolts of yellow flame at all times. Against the night sky it's sharp and bright and makes the factory look like something from hell. Same goes for the stack with blue smoke.
Next to these factories there's something (I'm assuming gas/energy building) with all the pipes and round lights. . . it doesn't look like something from a horror/sci fi movie because I've seen a lot of those, a lot of movies like that have been made because of buildings like this.
Sights like that do a lot more for my pessimism re: the state of the world than any war-casualty reports. After all, the factories are new.

++++++++++++++++++
I'm already starting to feel torn in social priorities. I talked with Anne, my mother's friend and my adopted auntie as she drove me to Cardiff Central to ride up to Glasgow. How Tuesday is both the Gerald House (my "real" friends, for the sake of afterschool special) Christmas Party and the Framework Social (a open-to-public gathering for creative types in Swansea to meet and mingle-- i.e.: the "cool/fake" friends our hero cruelly betrays his "real" friends for only to realize What Really Matters in the End). . . cough, cough.

Yeah, I'm going to the Social. Time's gone on and I've found that very few people who'd play the "real friends" card care as much about you as they think they do.

It's not as cynical as it sounds, or it's more so; I'm here for a year and I want to do a lot. I need to meet fellow creative types who also want to do a lot. Very often this is not people in school. I think this is an Ecclesiastes thing; everything in it's time.

I'm here for a year and I gotta know about this stuff for a reason.