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:: 8.03.2001 ::

(listening to: Kings of Convenience: Kings of Convenience)

So last year I finally *got* The Beatles. Driving down Highway 101 in the middle of the night on my way to see Radiohead, somewhere before San Luis Obispo, Revolver got me. Later, driving back from Sonoma county heading due west with the sun setting behind the hills, Abbey Road came to me and I felt undeniably enlightened. Hitting heavy traffic on Interstate 80, on the way home for Thanksgiving, I took the side streets and sang half of The White Album at the top of my lungs, serenading the almond trees and orange groves as I cruised rural style.

Late in the year, I *got* Springsteen. Driving over the Bay Bridge into San Francisco blasting Born in the U.S.A. so that all stuck in traffic with me could hear the backbeat, Bruce made me feel like a king.

I think I just *got* Bob Dylan, somewhere in the middle of Desolation Row, with one guitar lick, he got me.


(11:56 AM) :: (link)


:: 7.30.2001 ::

(listening to Smog: 'Neath The Puke Tree)

Changes made. I killed the archive list, I didn't like the way it looked at me. I added a photos link, it's still being worked on.

I posted a list of my possible "Best Of 2001" albums on the message board, and it was way, way longer than I expected. And it's only July.


(11:05 PM) :: (link)

(listening to: The Rolling Stones: The London Years, Part 2)

At least one person agrees with me that the new Sparklehorse album is the best record of the year. Oh, life can be so good sometimes.

People Talk Too Loud has the first decent message/discussion board I've seen. That, and they'll send you a copy of an awesome mix CD made from suggestions of the group just for being nice.

Work is dead. It's the kind of day I think about sneaking a book into the bathroom and reading for awhile.


(11:47 AM) :: (link)


:: 7.29.2001 ::

MP3 of the week: I've had a long and confused past with Grandaddy. My Texan friend put a song called AM 180 on a mix tape for me about 4 years ago, I liked it so much that I tried to track down the album. Only, I couldn't. So, on my return visit to Austin, I searched through their local record store and found a copy of Grandaddy's second album, Under the Western Freeway, although it was an English import and priced at a whopping $28.99. I promptly put it back on the shelf, thinking I'd wait for this British band to put something out domestically.

Except that Grandaddy aren't from England, they're from Modesto, California, a quaint Central Valley town about an hour from my house. There are good thrift stores in Modesto, and a huge Del Monte cannery that my mom's best friend worked at every summer. I did not know Modesto had bands, much less bands as good and self-reliant as Grandaddy.

They do all their own recording, play many free local shows, and have been around for almost ten years. They excel at combining alt-country aspects of bands like Sparklehorse with keyboards and other analog gadgets into beautifully clunky songs. I mean that in a good way. Fare Thee Not Well Mutineer comes off a recently released "others" compilation, put together from 4-tracks and old live tapes. Enjoy.

(ps: i'm posting all these songs on Filepile as well.)
(9:20 PM) :: (link)