Well…I’m back! Sorry about all the time off (not really sorry), but I’ve been settling in to a new house and a new routine and all that, so that’s my excuse. Oh, also I was in Florida for a week sitting by a pool and drinking a lot and going on airboat tours in the Everglades, so, that’s my other excuse. I feel a little bad for sticking Eric with writing so much, but also he knows more than I do, so you guys were really getting a good deal.
Let me inform you that while Garr & I were in Florida, all we had to listen to was the radio, and the only station we could agree on was a Fort Meyers/Miami station that played top-40/rap. DJ Scrappy’s monologues about Kim Kardashian’s “fine ass” and his compassion for domestic violence victims (probably singularly fueled by Rihanna’s suffering) were just too outrageous to pass up. Since then I’ve also made up a story in my head about Lady Gaga really being brilliant and her whole image being completely satirical and mocking of the very industry that pushes her music and the very people who love it. Unfortunately, I don’t think this is the case. Also, I was dragged to New Moon by my friend because it was his birthday and I like him more than I hate Twilight, and the only thing that got me through it other than laughing at all the melodramatic teenage vampires and werewolves was the soundtrack, which included tracks from Bon Iver, Grizzly Bear, St. Vincent, and Thom Yorke.
Perhaps the most redeeming thing I’ve done in the last few weeks musically (getting married trumps everything) happened on Saturday night, when I went to a Camera Obscura show here in good ole Hampton Roads, where the area tagline should be, “where no one good ever comes to play.” Except they did the other night, which was cool, because Papercuts and Camera Obscura were both (duh) incredible and it had been way too long since I’d been to a good show. The venue was kind of strange, though–it was an actual theatre. There wasn’t really room to get up and stand up front or to get up and dance around, and so everyone pretty much just sat there and swayed, other than some little kids who were dancing up in one of the boxes. My sister and I eventually gave in and tried to get to the front and dance…whatever. I’ll go back to the Attucks Theatre if they keep bringing in good people. ANYWAY, off topic, I had only ever listened to My Maudlin Career so I went to the library and stocked up on older C.O. albums and have enough to keep me busy for a bit, anyway.
The opener, Papercuts, is definitely worth mentioning to you guys. They’ve been around for awhile, but I’m a latebloomer and had never heard of them. Their most recent album, You Can Have What You Want, came out in March of this year. They have a very full, layered sound, with a lot of wonderful synth that creates that sort of ethereal musical fog we all know and love. Jason Quever’s voice makes Ben Gibbard jealous, I think, because he achieves melancholic preciousness without whining. Just kidding, I like Ben’s voice, but I like Jason’s better. Anyway, apparently while I was sitting on my butt before Camera Obscura came onstage, my sister and husband went to get drinks and had a mini-conversation with Jason outside by the merch. table. So, great job me for missing a prime opportunity to ask any questions at all to post on the blog. From what I can gather, Jason likes playing music and says that either us coming to see Papercuts play or him playing in Papercuts is better than being bored (it was one or the other, I can’t remember what they said). It’s okay, talking to people in bands scares me anyway. You can check out their myspace page here. Their older albums are clearly worth checking out as well, I especially like Can’t Go Back. Moody music makes my life on rainy days like today.
And finally, for those of you in the States, happy Thanksgiving! And wherever you are, I hope you all have a wonderful weekend of love and peace and appreciation for all the good things in your lives and in the world. And the bad stuff too, I guess…to quote Frank in Little Miss Sunshine, talking about Marcel Proust: “Total loser. Never had a real job. Unrequited love affairs. Gay. Spent 20 years writing a book almost no one reads. But he’s also probably the greatest writer since Shakespeare. Anyway, he gets down to the end of his life, and he looks back and decides that all those years he suffered, those were the best years of his life, ’cause they made him who he was. All those years he was happy? You know, total waste. Didn’t learn a thing.” So…happy Thanksgiving everyone!