Like Missy Elliot’s 2002 studio album, I found my site in need of some reworking. Unlike Missy Elliot’s 2002 studio album, I will not “put my thing down, flip it, and reverse it.”
Back in a few weeks with a fresh coat of paint and some fresh new jams. See you then.
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I don’t get this photo one bit more than you do.
Click to hear the track “Walking Far From Home” on Iron & Wine’s 2011 album, Kiss Each Other Clean. It’s a great song on an otherwise so-so CD.
Hiatus time. I will be traveling for the next two weeks to spend time with family and interview for far-away jobs. So I won’t Doof even semi-daily.
But I’ll be back. And when I am, you’ll definitely want to check in to see:
Until then!
Now hurry hurry, go on to the altar/ I know you ain’t a pimp but pimp remember what I taught ya
I was on the phone with a female friend from Virginia the other day. She had a dilemma:
“I’m anxious, Joe–I don’t think I have anymore space for people in my bridal party.”
This seems like an acceptable anxiety for an engaged woman in her early 20s to have. With all of those close friends from high school and college, attempting to navigate the socio-political landscape of a wedding might be tricky. Who’s in the bridal party? who sits next to who? What awful relatives and semi-friends can you “accidentally” forget to invite?
But this friend of mine is not engaged. She doesn’t have a boyfriend. She hasn’t been on a date in months (sorry girl). And she has NO PLANS to get married anytime soon – we’ve discussed this. But she did meet a guy that she’s really into about a week ago. Her next out-loud thought was to start planning the number of babies she wants to have with him.
I panicked and hung up the phone.
Perhaps this makes me immature. Should I feel more comfortable about discussing the plans surrounding my own matrimony now, even though it’s likely years and years down the road?
If that’s the case, then I guess I have one thing buckled down: my wedding song. Ideally, “Int’l Player’s Anthem” will be played when I walk down the aisle; if that’s not possible, it would also suffice as a first dance at the reception. Either way, I will exit the church not to the throwing of rice or flower petals, but to the rain of $20 bills.
I totally copped this song from my oldest sister, who mentioned in passing that she wanted it played at her wedding. But it’s a fantastic idea, and I think I embellished it enough to make it my own. Maybe she’ll let me share the song, allowing me to play it on my special day as well. It sounds like the beginning of a beautiful family tradition…
Madeline Follin and Brian Oblivion of Cults, rocking OUT. I want long hair now. And “Oblivion” as my last name.
Sometimes you make promises. Then sometimes you get bronchitis, and things change.
My Best 11 Albums of 2011 will be ready for the world this week…but it is not this day. More specifically, it’s gonna be Friday. My apologies.
I did, however, decide on an album that was not going to make the cut on my list. And while the CD in its entirety didn’t blow my mind, the up-and-coming band that produced it shows some incredible promise and talent, as well as a really unique sound that holds both antiquated melodies and post-modern, psychedelic elements at the same time. You’ll know what I mean.
That was not a pun.
If you like “Know What I Mean,” check out the rest of Cults’ self-titled freshman album, one of my honorable mentions for the Best 11 Albums of 2011 list that doesn’t actually exist in written form quite yet.
Fast-forward to 4:00 to just hear the song. Stop by on Monday of next week to see my favorite records from 2011. Reply with a list of your own, and I’ll send you a CD copy of mine!
This song acts as a preview of what is to come next week: my top 11 albums of 2011! Yes, I am aware that it is almost April, and that the period of time in which an end-of-year-round-up would have been acceptable has come and gone.
Yet I choose to spit callously into the wind! Stop by on Monday to see what my picks were, and tell me what albums from last year were your favorites. If you do, I will send you a copy of my own playlist. Wink.
Happy Friday!
Fans of Fleet Foxes, The Woods Brothers, Jeff Tweedy, Mumford & Sons, and Blind Pilot will probably want to add this to a playlist or something.
A lot of great new sound came out of SXSW this year. Joe Pug’s “Hymn #35″ is one of my favorite songs from the festival–it toes the line of deep-end folk, but his vocals are so sincere that you don’t have to be a devout alt-country fan to enjoy it.
Pug’s Last.fm autobiography is really fascinating. I would link it, but the whole thing is worth a read, and gives his music an even clearer voice. So I’m including it in the block quotes below.
The day before his senior year as a playwright student at the University of North Carolina, Joe Pug sat down for a cup of coffee and had the clearest thought of his life: I am profoundly unhappy here. Then came the second clearest.
Pug packed up his belongings and drove the longest route possible to Chicago. Working as a carpenter by day, the 23 year-old Pug spent nights playing the guitar he hadn’t picked up since his teenage years. Using ideas originally slated for a play he was writing called “Austin Fish,” Pug began creating the sublime lyrical masterpiece that would become the Nation of Heat EP.
The songs were recorded fast and fervently at a Chicago studio where a friend snuck him in to late night slots other musicians had canceled. He was short on money, but his bare-boned sincerity didn’t require much more than a microphone and it dripped off of each note he sang.
In May of 2008, Pug played the first headlining slot of his young career to a sold out crowd at Chicago’s storied Schubas Tavern. Two weeks later he released the Nation of Heat EP, which has garnered near-universal critical acclaim and established him as one of the most respected songwriters of his generation. Pug has since played shows with Todd Snider, Susan Tedeschi, Kasey Chambers, and James Hunter.
Pug released his first full-length album, Messenger, in February 2010. Later in 2010 he went to the United Kingdom and played the main-stage of the Cambridge Folk Festival.
Perhaps I’m biased in saying that this story is awesome: as a recent college graduate with a lot of soul-searching to do on the job front, stories like his are warming to read. Also, I am madly in love with anything related to Chicago. But I hope you enjoyed the song and the brief biography.
I will not be broken.
All of my friends have left for the weekend, but that’s not going to stop me from going to Club 51 Degrees, “the Hottest Night Club in Savannah” according to commercials on 97.3fm. I think it’s the only night club in Savannah.
I have only been to Club 51 Degrees three times in my life. All of those times were extremely awesome. Typically you have to pay an expensive cover fee to get into Club 51 Degrees. While I’m not one who usually does such a thing, Club 51 Degrees Nights (as we’ve come to call them) just apparate out of thin air, much like I expect wizards do in Diagon Alley. It is impossible to describe Club 51 Degrees: one must experience Club 51 Degrees for himself, or he will never truly understand.
I almost used the Donnas version of Dancing With Myself for today’s Daily Doof, but then I heard this jam by Two Door Cinema Club while driving around today, which inspired a private in-car-solo-dance-party. This didn’t go unnoticed, as it ended at a very crowded stoplight.
As it turns out, the two soldiers in the Mustang next to me live in my apartment complex. We live right beside each other. I’m typically never ashamed of my dance moves, though I know that my car dancing is probably my weakest skill set. But I will admit, for the first time since I made my high school’s step team (drop), I felt embarrassed about dancing. The incredulous looks of these military men simply shattered my ego.
I gotta shake it off, and I think the best way to do so would be a solo pilgrimage to Club 51 Degrees. I’m nervous but I’m excited at the same time.
My failure today pales in comparison to that of my partner in dance crime (which is only a misdemeanor in most states) from Williamsburg, who wrote a blog post about getting hit in the face by a ceiling fan while attempting to table-dance. Dressed as Amelia Earhart. Read about her exploits here.
Amelia B., I wish you were in Savannah tonight. We’d have reconciliatory dance-offs at Club 51 Degrees, the Hottest Night Club in Savannah. I’d dance you under the table.
Too soon?
This one is from Kanye's G.O.O.D. Friday free music project.
Oh Lordy. I currently hate running. But I’m doing it. And it’s been a busy day. So I don’t want to write more than 50 words.
Before putting my shoes on I typed “Run” into my iTunes search bar, hit shuffle, and this started playing. No judgment. Just listen.
If you like this song, shoot me an email (bloggerphobic@gmail.com) and I'll send you the whole CD. Seriously, do it! Yee Haw!
If you were to hum the first Sufjan Stevens song that came to mind, what would it be? Most people would probably choose a track from Illinois, Stevens’ 2005 release that made him hugely popular in the independent music world with its pleasant, fun and innovative sound. When the film Little Miss Sunshine used “Chicago” as a frontrunner on its soundtrack, Stevens exploded as an artist. Any uncertainty about the alternative/electronic folk artist’s fame was left in the back of the trunk with Grandpa Hoover‘s dead body.
Of course, Stevens has worked on a number of projects. Listeners who couldn’t get enough of the Illinois sound back-tracked to albums like Michigan (2003) and Seven Swans (2004), which feature gorgeous, widely palatable arrangements and that classic folksy Sufjan sound. Later-comers (myself included) and curious but casual followers looked forward toward Age of Adz (2010), and eventually pushed its loud, boiling electronic sounds and winged instrumental flourishes to #7 on Billboard 200.
But Sufjan Stevens experiments a lot more than his canonical albums would lead you to believe. And while the resulting sound doesn’t always climb the charts–or even find itself in Pitchfork or on Last.fm–his albums are almost always fantastically arranged, and true to the essence of their subjects.
In a sense, many of his off-the-beaten-track records that I really like articulate the spirit of a place, social construct or idea. One album, The BQE (2009), echoes the sites and sounds of the famed Brooklyn-Queens Expressway. While the tracks are definitely most familiar–and most frustrating–to regular commuters in NYC, the road’s temperament and vitality are so well-expressed that one who’s never been to the Big Apple can take something from listening.
If they enjoy it. The BQE is certainly not everyone’s bag of chips. Listen here if you’re curious. I know you are. Winky-face.
Today’s DAILY DOOF, however, showcases a song from an even more exotic album: Run Rabbit Run. As a massive instrumental reworking of his 2001 album, Enjoy Your Rabbit, this collection of songs from 2009 might be my favorite musical arrangement ever designed by Sufjan Stevens. Ever. Its sound is radically different, but really freakin’ beautiful. The instrumental work on this album was done by Osso, a contemporary string quartet based out of New York and Berlin. Their mastery–in union with Stevens’ songwriting abilities–makes this album impossible for me to listen to without getting chills.
I’d provide some analysis, but I fear I’ll ruin the song. Please, just give this rare gem a listen.
Also, I have 3 copies of the CD. If you like what you hear and want more, get at me in the comments or email me! bloggerphobic@gmail.com
These guys are clearly best friends. Look at them fist-bump!
Time for some Spring cleaning. No, not my apartment (which just reached a whole new level of trashed today, so I’m at the library). As my site traffic has increased quite a bit, I’ll be making a few alterations to the layout of both the content and the menu navigation over the next month or so. My goal is to make new content easier to navigate through and interact with. I think you’ll like it.
One of these changes will be obvious as of today: “THE DAILY DOOF” posts will now have more memorable titles than the page subtitle and today’s date. No more redundancy! Moreover, the archive will now be easier to go through when you’re searching for specific entries. A catchy, relevant name will be much easier to remember than, for example, the month, day and year when I wrote about the saddest song ever in the whole wide world.
Get ready for new content as well. I’m not going to spoil any surprises, but there will be a lot of new stuff to get excited about over the next month or two. That’s all I can say for now!
Did I really need to tell you all of this? Not entirely. But I did need an excuse to use the name of this song by The Airborne Toxic Event. If you haven’t heard them before, don’t let the COOL indie name fool you: they’re a pretty easy listen. The video itself, though, is an exercise in racial confusion: all of the white people in the band are rocking out in a mid-20th century bar, playing music for their all-black dance crew to bust moves over while bystanders watch and cheer. There’s even a step-team sequence. The band is apparently really down with their dance-and-step crew, fist-bumping and secret-hand-shaking their way into the bar before they perform.
I don’t get it.
Maybe this whole thing was an oversight and not a deliberate artistic choice. Maybe I’m totally missing some incredible profound point that the director was trying to make. Maybe I’m black-white colorblind (not a thing) and just fantasized this division. I do think it’s clear that somebody’s trying to say something in the video, in a really forced way. Which makes it all the sadder that I have no idea what that ‘something’ is.
The video is far more awkward if you’re aware of its confusing racial politics while watching. So you’re welcome.
At any rate, it’s a fun song with a name that I selfishly employed because of the post headline it facilitated. So listen to it!
