Your New Man

Your New Man by Mason Jennings



There is bad news, there is sad news, and then there is finding out that the girl you just broke up with is now dating another guy... yeah, she's got a new man.

This has happened to me twice and neither time was it an enjoyable experience. The New Man—no matter who he is or what you thought of him before (if you know him)—is now the biggest asshole, creep ball, son of a bitch to ever walk the Earth. No if and or buts. He just is. Everything sort of creepy that he ever said or you ever heard about him comes creeping into your head and all you want to do is to tell the—now old—girlfriend is: WHAT ARE YOU THINKING!!!! DO YOU REALIZE HOW MUCH BETTER I AM THAN THIS SLIME BALL!!! HE PROBABLY KILLS BABY SEALS AND I WILL GUARANTEE YOU HE WILL CHEAT ON YOU!!!!

Of course, who knows... there might be some truth, but there's also a lot of bullshit in all this. The process of rejection and choosing someone else over yourself is an interesting one since it's completely irrational.

Over time of course, this all goes away. You wish everyone luck... since odds are you've become the New Man to someone else.

However there is a flip side: every time you think you know someone, you realize that you don't know them all that well. Or at least that's been my case. The "New Man", in my experience, I've know both times. Are they bad guys? Nah. Both moved in on the Love while the Love and I still had something going on, so that's kind of like rubbing salt in the wounds since everything because so fucking obvious in retrospect, but c'est le via. Am I shocked that the former loves choose the guys they did? Of course. Why? I'm keeping that to myself, but let's say I've found the irony both times.

Direct Hit

Direct Hit by Art Brut



I have nothing to say about this song other than Art Brut is good, but I just wanted to get down a few pointless musings:

* I think the Minnesota/North Dakota is the most underrated and under appreciated rivalry in the United States. At this point we've managed to play up every state rivalry possible with Ohio/Michigan probably the biggest just because there seems to be little difference between the two places except one has the shittiest town in American (Detroit) and the other has the town everyone makes fun of (Cleveland). Anyway, for some reason we have managed to over look the Minny v. ND rivalry for far too long, it it appears to be a good natured rivalry. If Minny and ND were people, they would have one of those teasing relationships with sexual innuendo and sly smiles whenever the other person said something nearly offensive. And everyone likes those people and their relationship. This interview with Mr. Klosterman reminded me of this.

* I really want to go to the French speaking area of Maine some day. And along those lines, if dreams and goals come true, then there's a good chance I would own a house in either Maine or Minnesota.

* While I'm at it, other places I'm a fan of in these fine States that are United: Long Island, the area in between Boston and New York in Connecticut, Minnesota, western Michigan, Chicago, Savannah, California (all of it), Seattle...

* Because I've been checking it out a good amount, I should give Meet Me in Montauk a shout out. Gotta love the name of the blog and he/she is sort of doing the song a day thing too, yet another reason to give a link. I'll give them an official link one of these days.

* Currently the best blog in the world?

* I know they announced this three months ago, but I'm still pumped the Strokes are getting back together. And yes, for-all-intents-and-purposes I think they broke up two years ago.

Be Here Now

Be Here Now by Mason Jennings
Mason's Video


It was going to happen at some point... today might as well be the day.

The first time I heard Mason sing this song was on a cold February night in Washington, D.C. at the Black Cat. Patty had promised to go to the show with me since she lived two blocks away... and to make a long story short we were standing there taking in the Mason show when he played this song. Both of us were, it was just one of those songs where you went, "wow" you heard it.

Fast forward 19 months—now I'm in Chicago, and the Girl surprised me with tickets to the Mason show a few weeks before. We were a few weeks removed from my birthday and something had to happen in our relationship. On our way to the show we stopped to get something to eat, but we were running late and had to do some sort of fast food. Potbelly's won out. And at some point during dinner we got in a bit of a fight about us as a relationship, as a couple.

The fight carried out onto Belmont Avenue. Walking east, The Girl and I made no progress in our situation. When we finally arrived, the theater was packed and Mason had already started playing. There was no where for us to really sit, and as we stood there trying to get comfortable, our uncomfortableness of the current situation in our relationship boiled over. She was frustrated with me, I was frustrated with her... neither one of us was enjoying the show even though we had only been there a few minutes... the night had disaster written all over it.

But then Mason started singing, "Be here now, no other place to be." The Girl and I weren't even in the seating area at this point, we were just outside the doors in the lobby talking about us but we could hear Mason clearly.

"Sun comes up and we start again..."

As Mason continued to sing, two thoughts, in this order, crossed my mind:
1) I love this song.
2) This is the perfect song to tell The Girl that I love her.

"All the doubts that linger, just set them free"

As the Girl looked at me all frustrated, wanting to leave, I decided that I had to let her know. "Don't you know?" A blank look on her face was the response. "I love you." A smile and a hug... then a kiss. "You are the love of my life," I found myself repeating Mason's words to The Girl. She loved me too.

It was like something from a movie... not the profession of our love, but rather the song Mason was playing at that moment provided a soundtrack to our lives. Had I planned to tell The Girl that I was in love with her that night at the show while Mason played "Be Here Now"? No. But it happened that way... it was like a dream... For a night, I lived a moment that I had always dreamt about—I told a girl that I loved that I loved her while Mason Jennings provided the soundtrack. Life doesn't give us very many serendipitous moments, but when one does arise, we should all take full advantage of it. Because those serendipitous moments are among the best in life.

But I was no Mr. Darcy that night, and even though this is a great love song, Mason's lyrics don't match Mr. Darcy's words, "In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you." But for a moment in time I lived in my very own song, my very own movie... it didn't last more than a few seconds because eventually Mason moved on to the next song. And I can't go back and rewatch or re-experience that night ever again... it's over. It is now just a memory... a memory that may even be forgotten someday later in life.

Suddenly I See

Suddenly I See by KT Tunstall



In this 21st century, hipster, indie music is main stream but it isn't, world that we live in I am not supposed to like KT Tunstall. But I do.

And you know why? Because she writes and sings great pop songs. I sort of touched on the entire anti-pop world that we live in the other day. (I blame Gen X and the alternative/grunge movement of the early 90s which rejected pop... in name only but another day). And I still see nothing wrong with pop. Pop is good. It's fun, it's catchy, and sure it might not mean anything beyond what it means, but what's wrong with that?

See sometimes the simplicity is the beauty. When Jeff Tweedy sings "The ash tray says/you were up all night", it's beautiful because of the simplistic image that it creates in one's mind, it's a heavy but simple image. When Mason Jennings sings "Do you think about me?" it's the same deal—the simplicity of coming out and saying what we all think all the time is great.

So when KT puts some catchy hooks (and a neat-o opening rift) to some simple lyrics it works because many of us have had that moment when suddenly we see what we want. Maybe it's love at first sight. Maybe it's a rush one gets from reading Jane Austen or buying some shares of stock. Or maybe it's just seeing Patti Smith and realizing that you want to be a musician. It is that simplistic beauty—her face is the map of the world, you can see she's a beautiful girl—that makes this song so great.

Two more things:
-This is easily one of the best songs of the decade.

-Who hasn't been left hanging on a word? And isn't that a great feeling?

Cinderella's Daydream

Cinderella's Daydream by Zuzu's Petals



In the past week this song has hit home like a sack of bricks... but why? I don't really know what the lyrics say... I can make out the first verse and the chorus but it's not like the lyrics are hammering home like a Jeff Tweedy song. But some where in between the "I don't want to go" and "Baby I want to stay with you" on the 18th listen this week everything started to come into focus.

It was the Cinderella illusions in the song that were hitting home. We all know the story of Cinderella, she has to be home by midnight, because at that time everything she has disappears. And with that she leaves in a hurry, peacing out on Prince Charming despite the great night they were having.

And with that in mind, I thought of those nights that I have had—those perfect nights that I never wanted to end—usually involving a girl or loved one. Those were the best nights. And in retrospect those are bittersweet nights. Every night isn't a great night. And the great nights can't be frozen, at some point time takes over. The night or the day ends.

Why? Why must we toil though the mundane, the blaze of life? Sure those perfect nights make life worth tugging along... but why even have mundane moments? It's cruel. Unfair. The great moments are taken away from us by time...

We're all Cinderella. We just don't realize it. The clock will always, at some point, strike midnight. And we can only be so lucky that we left behind a glass slipper somewhere... for someone... to find and then search for us... to fit onto our foot.

Here's a Telephone

Here's a Telephone by Page France

Listen here

My 26th birthday never really had a chance. In between my first and second year of grad school, the summer had been hard on me... I wasn't sure where I was going or what I wanted to be. I was suddenly entering my late 20s and I didn't necessarily want to be. Twenty-six seemed so old, too old to not have any direction other than another year of graduate school.

A crisis of faith or self or something-like-that fell upon me.

What did I want to do with my life? Where was I going? How did I get here? My birthday wasn't a day of celebration, it was a day of reflection which threw me into an existential abyss...

It was a Friday and like my previous two birthdays all I wanted was a pitcher of beer and pizza. Being in Chicago, my parents and sister took me to Piece, however when we got there the place was packed and we had to wait. I couldn't take it... the crowd, and my anxiety got the best of me. I told my family that I'd be back in a few minutes.

Unconditional love is always with us but we rarely need it. But in those times that we need it we don't necessarily appreciate it. We're too busy consuming that love that we over look the fact that we're receiving it.

And that was my case on my 26th with my family. They let me go. They let me walk. They knew that I needed this. Was I acting and being a mature 26 year old? Hard to say. But it was what I needed. I needed to walk, think things over and take in the fresh air on a beautiful day.

As I walked the streets of Bucktown searching for peace of mind, I called The Girl. She was in New York and had already wished me Happy Birthday, but I turned to her in my time of self crisis and doubt.

It's hard to say if I fell in love with The Girl over the next thirty minutes—the reality was I was already in love with her and she was in love with me but we hadn't admitted this to each other yet. Our relationship wasn't that new by that point, we had been dating for four or five months. The "newness" or "honeymoon" of the relationship had faded. It was time to get serious if we wanted to...

But none of this was going though my head as we talked. I told her of my anxiety, of my crisis, of my self doubt and wondering where I was going in life... and she listened and listened and listened. And then she added her comments, talking me down, helping me deal with my anxiety, crisis, doubt, and purpose. "You're young... and I have the same emotions from time to time, you just have to find what you want and go for it... it will work out." Maybe it's standard stuff... but the reality is it's not. Most people don't respond like this during a time of personal crisis and conflict. People are too self-absorbed, too into themselves and their feelings and their past experiences.

That evening, the Girl wasn't like that. The Girl only focused on me and was only there to help me. It was unconditional, selfless love. She calmed me down... something few people on this Earth can do. Instead of getting frustrated with me, she was there, a solid rock—someone I could lean on—at a time when I needed someone to lean on. It was wonderful.

The next day, as my crisis lifted with a night of sleep, I realized two things about the Girl:
1) We were in love. And we would profess this to each other a few weeks later when the time was right.
2) Unlike almost every other girl I had ever dated, she could handle me. She could deal with my anxiety... The Girl was good for me.

This felt really good. Really fucking good.

Napoleon Says

Napoleon Says by Phoenix



Editor's Note: I recently had a birthday, and for reasons I can't tell you, I like to feel sorry for myself on my birthday. It's the one day of the year were I really just let my guard down, don't try to inspire myself with cliche quotes, and allow myself to feel like shit. This requires much reflection at the same time... so in the process of evaluating the last year of my life and figuring out what I was doing five, four, three, two, and one year ago to the day... I thought, I should honor those who have played an important role in my life/birthday in the last five years.

2006--25th Birthday
A ton to cover on what turned out to be a weird birthday... I'll just bullet point it:
* I was leaving for Chicago to start grad school in about a week.

* Turning 25 felt officially old. I mean, 25, I was now officially in my mid-20s. This should have brought about a crisis of faith but...

* The night before D, his brother, JFC—who was getting married in a few days, and The Devil went to Bricks Tavern (it had been renamed by this point, but I can never remember it's new name), as a sort of 'last night with the guys doing guy things' were were drank way way way way too much. We drank so much that on the walk home we stopped at 7-11 and got hot dogs. There may have been drunk dialing taking place also.

* Needless to say, I was very very very very hungover the next day, which happened to be my second to last day of work. I was so hung over that I had to leave the office and I walked over to the White House, and took about a ten minute nap/rest on a park bench. I'm pretty sure I threw up at some point also. Luckily, productivity isn't a necessity on your last days of work.

* The office took me out for lunch as a good-bye/birthday celebration. From about 10am up until walking over to the restaurant for lunch, I was worried that I would have to throw up at some point during lunch. Thankfully, that didn't happen, and in fact I actually felt pretty good at lunch all things considered.

* The Super, who I was dating at the time, took me out for dinner. I told her all I wanted was a pizza and a pitcher of beer, in memory to the previous birthday where things were nearly perfect. But seeing that we were in D.C. and there isn't an single good pizza joint in the District [FACT], The Super took me to a burger place near GW. The hangover had made a comeback at this point and the last thing I was in the mood for was a crowded, loud burger joint and beer. Needless to say, The Super wasn't thrilled that I was still hungover. However, there was no fight (come to think of it, the Super and I never fought) and she gave me a Badger hat as a gift which was an awesome gift, only my hangover probably prevented me from fully expressing this to her (sorry Super).

* I have no clue what happened the rest of the day. But it was a good birthday... well the memory makes it a good birthday. Being hungover on your birthday isn't all that awesome, but thinking back on that hangover two years later makes it a funny story, if only for the White House park bench hang over nap.

Chicago

Chicago by Sufjan Stevens



2005--24th Birthday
I had been in D.C. for about three weeks, didn't have a job, and I bought an open ended train ticket from D.C. to New Haven. I wasn't in a rush to get back to D.C. from New Haven. In fact, I would end up spending five or six amazing days in and around the town. The weather was perfect, the vibe I got from New Haven was wonderful, and things were going very well with the Lou.

But I was also a lost soul at that point. I was naive and innocent. My life was, well, headed in a downward spiral. I didn't totally know this, I was over confident and life was about to blindside me, but I felt as if I close to really getting everything in place.

The reality was that New Haven was an escape for me. It was somewhere that I didn't have to face the reality of day to day life. Things with the Lou were, good, but they weren't great. I didn't realize any of this at that time. It would only come into focus over the next few months and then upon reflection years since I left D.C.

I was to leave New Haven on the 7th, my birthday. But the night before, The Lou took me to a pizza place. We would sit in this joint, Modern APizza, eating a pizza and sharing a pitcher of beer. A few months later, after the Lou and I broke up, I would write this:
"I am, after all, forever indebted to you since you have saved me on my birthday. Call it luck or something else that I can't think of at the moment, the point is, I shall never forget. Even though that night of pizza and a pitcher of beer wasn't on September 7th, it was close enough for me to remember probably until I pass on. It was a darn near perfect night for me less than a month into my move to DC where I was alone, lost, and lacking love. It was a very nice night, I think we can both agree to that."

I spent my 24th birthday, well at least six hours of it, on a train. I'd get home to my apartment and tell my roommate that it was my birthday, he would then tell me that I should have said something and he would have gone out and gotten a drink. I told him it was okay. There were presents some where mixed in and I would then go to bed, thinking about the previous night—the worst was to come.

The Rat

The Rat by The Walkmen



2004--23rd Birthday
To be honest, I don't really remember this birthday. I was back in Chicago, D hadn't moved in yet, so I was probably splitting my time between my parents house and our place in Hyde Park, and that being the case I'm sure I went home and celebrated by birthday with my parents and little sister. What we did... I haven't a clue. I'm sure it was a pleasant birthday as I was beginning to come out of the fog that was graduating from college.

Are uneventful birthdays a bad thing? Of course not. In fact, I could use more uneventful birthdays.

As for the song... the summer of 2004 saw me listen to this album a countless number of times. It's one of my favorite albums of the decade, and this is probably the signature song—the drums hit home and the guitar work is fantastic. A great song almost any way you slice it or want to look at it.

Amsterdam

Amsterdam by Guster

Editor's Note: Yesterday was my birthday, and for reasons I can't tell you, I like to feel sorry for myself on my birthday. It's the one day of the year were I really just let my guard down, don't try to inspire myself with cliche quotes, and allow myself to feel like shit. This requires much reflection at the same time... so in the process of evaluating the last year of my life and figuring out what I was doing five, four, three, two, and one year ago to the day... I thought, I should honor those who have played an important role in my life/birthday in the last five years. So five posts, a song from the year I'm writing about, starting with turning 22 in 2003.


2003—22nd Birthday: The weird thing about 22 is that it's the first birthday that doesn't matter—no one cares. It's the first adult birthday. "Twenty-two? That's cool," is the response everyone gives and then moves on with life.

My 22nd was no different. But on top of it, the presents sent by my mother hadn't reached me yet—D.C. mail still sucked in the post 9/11 world. So not only did no one care it was my birthday, I also had no gifts.

So there I was, in D.C. with few true friends, present-less, and on top of I had to move across the hall to a new dorm (an uninteresting boring story). At one point, I came up to the hall only to find three people moving all my stuff from my old room to my new room. The entire situation was demoralizing for some reason—I couldn't wait for the next day.

But somewhere in this mix EBS saved the day. My first love, she found gifts for me that were perfect and meaningful and made it a birthday worth remembering. I don't remember where we ate that night, I don't even remember what we did. But I do remember her having three or four gifts for me: a picture album, Band of Brothers, and some other cute presents that she put her heart and soul into. I remember, after opening them, putting my arm around EBS, giving her a kiss, and hugging her and thanking her for being so wonderful. It was one of the first times in my life where I felt true love from someone who wasn't a family member. It was an overwheling feeling, it is a emotion that can be so overwhelming that it hurts sometimes to actually feeling. It feels wonderful, but it also exposes those times when we didn't return the love that we are being showered.

EBS knew that my family's presents hadn't reached me. By that time she knew my anxiety and neurocies—and she did all that she could to prevent them from getting the better of me on such a vanurable day. It was true, unflicable, selfless love.

I thank you EBS. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. I hope that I—at least once—made you feel the same love and did the same for you.

The Bitch Is Back

The Bitch is Back by Elton John



"What’s the difference between a hockey mom and a pitbull? Lipstick." — Sarah Palin.

Who would have thought that Elton John and Sarah Palin would have something in common (other than their love for Watford of course)? But it's true, they both think they're bitches!

And just---like---that Ms. Palin kind of, sort of, actually really did admit to—or at the very least compare herself—being a bitch. Which is really weird if you ask me. So in that spirit, fire up your Elton John, and go crazy America. The bitch is back!

The American left: go crazy and lose your minds!

The American right: go crazy and lose your minds!

The bitch is here!

Baba O'Riley

Baba O'Riley by The Who



What a song. Seriously, what a great effing song. And one of the most underrated album openers of all time. Baba is a top three album opener, but it always seems to be forgotten in that discussion (I just made that discussion up I think).

Anyway, an amazing song at any point in the day. It progresses beautifully, then Pete slows it down a bit for us, breaks it down, I've always loved the violin at the end of the song. The electric piano that kicks everything off is pretty sweet too (though this guy doesn't like it). One of the best Who songs.

In 8th grade, Andrew* and I were listening to the radio in my basement in the 'Dale. I'm not sure why or what we were doing—though there was a good chance we were playing hockey. Anyway, after hearing about five crappy songs (in our opinion) on the oldies station, we decided that we were going to call up and ask them to play a song that "is good but never gets radio play". After getting through to Oldies104.3, I requested "Baba O'Riley" and hung up... thinking I had played a fast one on the radio station.

Twelve odd years later and countless radio plays of "Baba O'Riley" later, I clearly didn't.


*Get well, buddy.

I'll Be Satisfied

I'll Be Satisfied by Ryan Shaw



You can find the full version here.

One of the things that appears to have been forgotten in the 21st century is that simplicity is usually the best. This is especially true in music—for some reason the pop song is frowned upon by 'serious' music fans. Anything that is obvious, all of a sudden can't be good (which goes back to our Coldplay and U2 argument, why U2 is acceptable and Coldplay is frowned upon).

Take this song. Ryan Shaw's cover of the Jackie Wilson classic from last year is fantastic. He nails the notes and brings some new life to the song without really changing it. The song is catchy, it's fun, it's everything you want in a pop song.

But no one paid any attention to it. And I blame the simplicity of the song. We live in an era were music fans suddenly think that Radiohead is a second coming of Camus (though they've probably never read Camus) and that music must provide some insight into intellectual thought; we have move away from the true point of music—pop music specifically—which Rob Gordon put best, "What came first, the music or the misery?" This is the point of pop music: joy and misery. There is no in between. Sure at times it can be used as a form of protest or to tell a story. But for the most part, pop music is about joy and misery.

But music fans—indie fans—no longer want this. They want music to be a form of intellectual thought, but all I see is pesado-intellectualism and crappy noise. I'd much rather have the Strokes sing "trying to catch her eye" or Mason Jennings ask, "Do you think about me?" than some cryptic wannabe Jeff Tweedy make bad metaphors. Because for me most of the time all I need is "Just a kiss, just a smile, hold my hand baby, just once in a while" in a pop song.