Who would have thought that it was temporally possible for a "Thirty Days of Music" feature to span an exceedingly barren five months? About as possible as it is for there to be 500 Days of Summer and for an be-cardiganed indie boy to think he has found his soulmate just because she knows all the words to "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out"
Dear, sweet, crooked-smiled, double-barreled Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Though beautiful you may be, the trite dialogue bestowed unto you was toe-curling, and the Smiths are more cliche than kismet.
Anyway, I give up. I quit these thirty days just like I quit my ballet, jazz, tap, art, clarinet, piano and guitar lessons. I lack perseverance and motivation. More importantly, in total justification of my extended absence from "Brain Tumours for Breakfast" and on a note that absolves me from being slothful and devoid of motivation, I fell out of love with music. Completely and utterly enveloped by inertia and apathy. My voracious appetite for discovering music, be it old or new was replaced by an aural routine that consisted of listening to Too Fast For Love by Mötley Crüe for three months solid. And although I will always have to suppress the urge to air guitar solo to “Livewire” in polite company, there is only so much of Vince Neil’s pitching I can endure for concentrated periods of time. So I had to break my Crüe habit lest there be a repetition of Prefab Sprout Syndrome* and I could never listen to them again.
Thankfully, taking on the position of Music Editor of TN2, with Karl McDonald of Those Geese Were Stupefied as my sensei has been the primary motivating factor in rekindling the love affair. I also finally got around to listening to Adebisi Shank’s second album and it made all the serotonin in my body rush to my head. And then there was a prolonged bedroom dancing moment featuring Billy Joel’s “We Didn’t Start the Fire”
This weekend, in between working as a waitress in a bar (and believe me, nobody wants me baby, judging on the piss poor tips I made) I’ve spent every available moment rediscovering albums that made my teenage insides surge with excitement** and unearthing new, shiny, delicious, precious gems.
Like THIS one
OK. So Warpaint may not be particularly new; they’ve been around since 2004 and released an EP last year. But their début album The Fool isn’t out ‘til the end of the month. Gossamer-floaty psychedelic folk melodies and whimsical wraithlike vocal harmonies. Throw in a Motown lyric sample and the kin of Shannyn Sossamon*** and I’m indubitably hooked. Plus they’re adorable. TN2’s deputy music editor Gheorghe Rusu interviewed drummer and keyboardist Stella Mozgawa last week, so I’ll post a link on the blog when it’s available for consumption.
I don’t know whether I’m very good at blogging. I’m unreliable, and erratic with my posts and my finger tends to slip off the musical pulse from time to time, but I use footnotes, so that has to count for something.
If you’d like, you can also follow me on Twitter here . Because I do that sometimes. When I remember to. I downloaded a “Tweetdeck” and everything. It translates tweets into foreign languages so I can pretend to be fluent in Spanish.
* Once, I worked for an entire summer in Marks and Spencer. They played but one CD in the store all day every day for said entire summer. I had to listen to “The King of Rock N Roll” six times during the average shift. A perfect piece of ‘80s synth pop with the most bizarre music video of all times featuring a human hotdog dancing beside a swimming pool ruined forever.
** Best Fwends, Alphabetically Arranged, Moshi Moshi 2007 anyone?
*** Who I still maintain is the most breathtaking beautiful human being I have ever seen in my entire life. She is perfection to such an extent that I can only blame her ever so slightly for the fact she named her child Audio Science.
