i mean, how can anyone actually dislike ra ra riot? they're like a fizzy drink and cotton candy on a warm day. your stomach is feeling effervescent, your fingers are sticky, and life is good.
they've got a new album on the horizon, the orchard, so as a preview to whet our whistles, they released an EP. i like EPs. i know a lot of music snobs think they're irrelevant and go against the purity and artistry of a carefully built album, but i like them. it's like buying a slice of pizza instead of the whole pan.
boy, the lead single, is so frigging fun. it's got the standard guitar riffs that you'd expect in a ra ra riot song: all bouncy, hyper and quick to the draw.
when i have once or twice thought i lived my life for
oh oh i'll wake up in a thousand years with every ghost i'm looking through i was a cold cold boy hey! oh when i lie with you but when i go back through i... i...
when it's gone and you hope that your mind's made up oh i wake up twenty thousand years with every ghost of what i knew i was a cold cold boy hey! oh when i lie with you but when i go back you i... i...
i was a cold cold boy hey! oh when i say to you when i go back through i... i...
(mp3) boy by ra ra riot (via jonk music, although if you sign up for their newsletter, ra ra riot will send you the mp3 of boy for free - go HERE to do so)
so, we all have songs that stick with us through the years, ones that transcend experiences and people, that never fail to remain relevant. the more i talk to other music lovers about these songs, the more i discover that these songs almost always stem from our youth.
for a good ten years, when anyone would ask me what my favorite song was, i wouldn't hesitate to say running to stand still by U2. this is a beautiful, brilliant song that has so much meaning to me - but, the truth is, over the years, it's faded in importance. when i hear it now i feel nostalgic, as one does when they think back on years past and the events that painted those days. it is no longer my favorite song, and that is because it has served it's purpose in my life and has stepped aside so other songs can become meaningful.
U2, in general, is one of those bands that, despite their popularity, finds strong loyalty in a wide swath of varying music listeners. at their last concert, which, admittedly, was the social scene of the year for angelinos last year, i spotted elementary school aged children, baby boomers, hipster teens and gen y-ers, hippies, yuppies, the elderly, frat boys, intellectuals, and goths all mingling together as they enjoyed the ultimate in rock music. there were nearly 100,000 of us at that show - 100,000!!! it was crazy crowded, the biggest show i've ever been to, and yet, at the same time, there was a feeling of camaraderie, of all of us sharing a moment with a band that's maintained popularity and meaningfulness over three decades. it was wild and conflicting - too crowded and yet intimate at the same time.
my biggest regret (other than being surrounded by drunk idiots and having to walk, uphill, nearly two miles while eight months pregnant to get back to my car) is that they didn't play bad. this song is the sort of song i talked about at the beginning of this post - it's stuck with me for twenty plus years, never allowing me to lose interest or to pass it by in favor of flashier, trendier songs. every time i hear it, especially those opening strains that the edge plucks out, i get goosebumps.
i never skip it on my ipod. and i'm lucky enough to have heard it live before, just not recently.
it's about heroin addiction (as is, according to the husband, running to stand still). and that's the beauty of music - while the artist may have written it about something specific, it's still a partially painted canvas, left ready for each listener to fill in with their own influences, beliefs, and experiences. bad isn't about addiction to me. instead, i've taken it, held it close, let it fill me, and made it mine. it's one of the songs that refuses to leave me, and i like it that way.
if you twist and turn away if you tear yourself in two again if i could you know i would if i could, i would let it go surrender dislocate
if i could throw this lifeless lifeline to the wind i'd leave this heart of clay see you walk, walk away into the night through the rain into the half-light through the flame
if i could, through myself, set your spirit free i'd lead your heart away see you break, break away into the light and to the day
so let it go and so fade away so let it go and so fade away
i'm wide awake i'm wide awake i'm not sleeping oh, no, no, no i'm not sleeping oh, no
if they should ask, well maybe they'd tell me what i should say true colors fly in blue and black bruised silken sky and burning flag colours crash, collide in bloodshot eyes
if i could, you know i would if i could, i would let it go
this desperation separation condemnation revelation in temptation isolation desolation isolation let it go, aha
and so fade away so let it go, aha and so fade, fade, fade away so let it go and so to fade away
i'm wide awake i'm wide awake wide awake i'm not sleeping oh, no, no, no
two videos for you to enjoy today: the first is U2 performing this brilliant song at live aid back in '85, back before bono was the fly and all of his other sunglassed world-saving personas. here, he's simply bono. i think i like him this way best.
the second is a cover of the song. oh, HOW CAN IT BE? you're saying. how can anyone even DARE to cover such a song? but luka bloom dared, and it's so frigging wonderful, it has to be shared:
what about you? are there any songs that, no matter what year it is, still are just as powerful to you as the first time you heard it?
so, friends, today i thought i'd bring you an ultra-guilty slice o' cheese to enjoy on these warm summer days. but first, the story behind this delightfully awful song:
when it was time for my husband and i to leave our honeymoon and the gorgeous island of kauai, the airport ceased functioning. i don't actually remember why - i simply remember being stuck in the airport for hours and hours, suffering without air conditioning well into the night before somebody (not working for the airline, of course) nearby yelled in a panic, "no one is getting off the island tonight!"
dum-dum-dum.
as this was before lost, no one hid, terrified of abduction at the hand of the others, but we did all begin to troll around, looking for comfort. for those of you who have been to kauai, you know what i mean about that airport.
anyway, finally, around 1:30 a.m., the airport took pity on it's denizens and packed us onto tour buses like sardines. then we were shuttled off to an unfinished hotel (yes, it was still under construction and those workers, bless their hearts, were pounding away all night) so we might find 10% more comfort than we had at the airport. on the way there, though, in that crowded bus filled with angry people, i first heard o-shen's pretty wahine.
friends, let me be the first to say that this song is utterly ridiculous. it's lyrics are juvenile and laugh worthy - the husband and i even fought for years (YEARS!) over what exactly the chorus said (yes, we were THAT lazy and did not bother looking it up. before he comments, i shall declare he was right, and i was wrong). let's not even take into account how o-shen spells his name (i have a rather large pet peeve about how certain people/companies misspell their words in an effort to be different - like KOA, you know, kampgrounds of america? THAT DRIVES ME BATSHIT INSANE).
the sad truth is, i have a soft spot in my heart and on my ipod for this song, much to the husband's dismay, mostly because it takes me back to my honeymoon, and of a seriously warm, humid night that extended my stay in hawaii one more day. it makes me think of salty air, red dirt, and chickens, of a thousand different shades of green, white-capped waves, and mai-tais. lame as it is, i love it.
for what it's worth, the husband just said to me, "YOU'RE GOING TO BLOG ABOUT THAT SONG? DO YOU HATE YOUR READERS?!"
i don't, of course. i just happen to know some of you out there love the cheese, too.
hey! hey you, pretty wahine, this one's for you!
i'm standing closer, don't know what to say but I wanna get close to you. you're lookin' lovely, delicious, and fantastic, attractive, so refreshing: girl you make me feel so new. but i don't even know your name, girl, apologies and i just saw you smile, but it's enough for me five minutes or your time, a short conversation and i will be satisfied.
i'd say: hey you, pretty wahine, i wanna know what you're all about there ain't no doubt i wanna check you out girl my heart's been so dry 'cause I've had a love drought. let your love rain down on me, let your love rain down you'll see and we blossom eternally
what will you do if i come and talk to you, will you turn your back and walk away? or will you stay, give me the time of day, girl, i wanna get to know you tell me what's the best way i gotta know if i stand a chance at holdin' you in my arms tonight tell me baby that you want me like i want you so i can hold you tonight
steppin' upon the scene as i was seein' ya lookin' so nice i be thinkin' da future is with you, you're sweeter than sugar and spice. hopin'-and-a prayin' that you respect me and my name, and never come with all those wicked games.
(in response to the rejectionist's call for essays detailing WHAT FORM REJECTION MEANS TO ME)
so, as the old saying goes, anyone can be a writer. a person simply has to sit down (or stand, if they lean towards that persuasion) and put words to paper (or computer, but let's not nitpick). but it really takes a special someone to attempt to be a published author, because to do so, it means building up an immunity to being rejected.
i remember reading, some time ago, an article in which sparkly vampire creating stephenie meyer claims she sent out only eight query letters, and, of course, got signed to an agent with the last one out (to which the majority of us all say, wut?). conversely, shannon hale practically brags about her massive list of rejections, which she's conveniently laminated to remind herself (and possibly the foolish agents who rejected her) that she's made it.
so when it came time to send out my first round of queries, i told myself that i shouldn't take it personally when i get rejected, because every author goes through this. yet, when my first rejection came in (by the very quick nathan bransford), i felt the bitter pangs of disappointment.
and hurt.
and the belief that, oh god, my writing must SUCK, because it took him all of forty minutes after the start of work on a monday morning to reject me.
then six more no thank you, i'm not the agent for yous rolled in, and with each one i felt more and more disappointed in myself, because the truth was, every single one came as a form rejection.
which, if you think about it, is possibly the worst kind of rejection you can get. because it means, as a writer who put their heart and soul into a book, and then struggled to craft a query (which, c'mon all, you know is fifty times harder than writing said book), you didn't even warrant a few minutes of personalized connection. instead, someone (most likely not even the agent) spends approximately two seconds quickly typing in the rejectee's name and then presses send.
the husband once asked to see one of these form rejections. "do you think they even read your sample?" he asked.
i felt fairly good that i had the right answer when i said, "not a word."
however, when the crushing disappointment fades, and time passes during which revisions are done and new queries are written, a new conclusion can be arrived at. yeah, the work may suck. yeah, i may not have warranted a minute of that agent's time. but those rejections also mean i've taken the steps to making my writing dreams a reality. i know so many people who tell me, once they hear i'm a writer, that they're writers, too.
interesting that none of them have ever sent out a single query. their works, whatever they may be, are languishing in obscurity. maybe it's because those writers don't have the time to write up a query. maybe it's because they fear the rejection. maybe it's because writing in only a hobby, not a passion.
rejected or no, i can now say that i'm chasing the dream.
maybe during the next round, or the next after that, i'll get some legitimate personalization in my rejections. until then, i'll take the form rejection. i'll hate it, but i'll remember to look to shannon hale for inspiration. i've kept every single email so far telling me that tells me no. someday, maybe i'll be lucky enough to print them out, laminate them, and feel like i paid my dues.
for those of you reading my blog and wondering where the heck the tunes are, here's a video for you about keeping your chin up in the face of consistent disappointment (courtesy of flight of the conchords, "formerly New Zealand's fourth most popular guitar-based digi-bongo acapella-rap-funk-comedy folk duo"):
so, during a recent discussion with the husband, we debated exactly what constitutes pop music. this all stemmed from me introducing him to LIGHTS, with me explaining, “i think she’s technically considered pop, but not nasty KIIS-FM, lady gaga crap pop. know what i mean?”
which, of course, leads to the understanding that there are currently two types of pop music running around nowadays: pop music (i.e. top 40) infused with R&B beats and pop music (i.e. indie) influenced by 80’s synths and beats.
the husband brought up an excellent quote from one of his favorite authors, nick hornby, to summarize pop music in our culture:
"What came first---the music or the misery? Did I listen to music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to music? Do all those records turn you into a melancholy person?
People worry about kids playing with guns, and teenagers watching violent videos; we are scared some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands---literally thousands---of songs about broken hearts and rejection and pain and misery and loss.
The unhappiest people I know, romantically speaking, are the ones who like pop music the most; and I don't know whether pop music has caused this unhappiness but I do know that they've been listening to the sad songs longer than they've been living the unhappy lives." - high fidelity
interestingly enough, we decided, most music, at it’s core, can be considered “pop” music – because it’s popular with someone, right? think about it – how do most people hear about music? either through the radio (which tends to only play songs approved and liked by the masses) or by word of mouth (and hence, popular with the person selling it). every song always has a fan somewhere, albeit a friend, a family member, and/or dozens to millions of strangers who memorize every word, every chord.
(although, I must admit, we did declare we could not, in all consciousness, define bob dylan – the husband’s choice – and joni mitchell– my choice – as pop music, considering they transcend such definitions and move more into poetry and whatnot. disagree? too bad.)
anyways, i want to introduce you to someone who, in my opinion, is clearly a pop artist. LIGHTS must have listened to a ton ofyaz and other synthy eighties bands while growing up, because you can clearly hear the influences in her music. she’s exactly what you’d expect from a pop song – catchy beats, frothy vocals, and the typically angsty lyrics that can come across as fun at times. however, there is another side to this artist, as represented in her newly released acoustic EP. these songs fall away from the pop music definition and veer more closely to indie folk. i love these little experiments, where you can listen to the same artist sing the same song two completely different ways and find them to be so different.
it’s all a matter of interpretation, i suppose.
up for your listening pleasure today are two different versions of the song river:
Out across cities I see buildings burn into piles And watch the world in wonder as mountains turn into tiles And trees losing their leaves, and our faces becoming tired I wish I could discover something that doesn't expire Come and stumble me
Take me river, carry me far Lead me river, like a mother Take me over, to some other unknown Put me in the undertow
Such are the things that make a kingdom rumble and shatter The same dynamic that another day would never matter It really just depends on who's giving and who's receiving And things that don't make sense are always a little deceiving Come and humble me
I want to know where you're going, a follower following Changing but never changed, claiming but never claimed
check out LIGHTS’ daytrotter session, especially drive my soul HERE. especially worthy of your attention is drive your soul. as always, you can download the entire album at daytrotter FREE!
so, awhile back, i mentioned the triumvirate of joshes that seem to be infiltrating folk music nowadays. i've already talked about the great josh ritter and josh rouse, so it's time now to bring your attention to josh(ua) radin.
if you're a fan of scrubs, you might be familiar with joshua radinalready (zach braff is purportedly a big fan of his and thereby had him on the soundtrack often). anyway, he's got a really likable style of music - never loud and harsh, but melodic and easy going. he's fairly typical of the new wave of folk/singer-songwriters going around nowadays: lovely to sad lyrics, pretty tunes. despite this, i still find myself liking his stuff.
the song i want to share with you today, vegetable car, is, in my opinion, a great summer song. it makes me think of warm afternoons, iced tea, and kiddie pools in the backyard, which is bizarre since the song is about unrequited love. still, it's fun, breezy, and so easy to press repeat on.
baby, you don't even know me but one day i'll get up the courage as you pass by you'll see baby, one look just might save me i need you to slow by the corner, stop right in front of me
till then i see you hopefully through i do wish that you'd ask me to ride along it wouldn't be wrong to tell more than i know about you
she drives a vegetable car diesel, mercedes, green, 2-door i barely know who you are lisa loeb glasses, i'd sure like to ask you to stay
baby, i need you to save me the one thing that my heart requires is that you admire me
till then i see you hopefully through i do wish that you'd ask me to ride along it wouldn't be wrong to tell more than i know about you
she drives a vegetable car diesel, mercedes, green, 2-door i barely know who you are lisa loeb glasses, i'd sure like to ask you to stay
how do i know why the sight of you makes me weak each time i see you turn on to my street your hair is always up in a bun this girl's the one
she drives a vegetable car diesel, mercedes, green, 2-door i barely know who you are lisa loeb glasses, i'd sure like to ask you to stay
