playlist
Magnetic Fields - Come Back From San Francisco
Neil Hannon - Our Mutual Friend
Cineplexx - A Mi Lado
The Lines - False Alarm
Goldie & the Gingerbreads - Can't You Hear My Heartbeat
Slowjane - A Little While
Silver Jews - My Pillow is the Threshold
Continental Drifters - Don't Do What I Did
X - See How We Are
Epicycle - Ode to Branson
Frog Eyes - One In Six Children Will Flee In Boats
Gaberdine - Chagrin
No Age - Things I Did When I Was Dead
Dials - Happy After All
Tom Vek - Nothing But Green Lights
The Narrator - Son of the Son of the Kiss of Death
Sleater-Kinney - God Is a Number
Blonde Redhead - Publisher
Architecture In Helsinki - Like it Or Not (Version 2)
Negativland - Basketball Plant
Chuck Berry - Nadine
Smog - The Weightlifter
Flying Lotus - Golden Diva
Animal Collective - The Purple Bottle
The Normal - T.V.O.D.
The Chap - Fun & Interesting
Zongamin - Whiplash
Slicker meets the Aluminum Group - Next Time
Alla - El Movimiento
Kate Bush - Cloudbusting
Patsy Cline - I Love You Honey
This week and next week I'll be doing shows on both Tuesday and Thursday, and then I'll switch to Thursdays only for a while. The scheduling is still a little crazy at the station, but hopefully it will settle down soon. Meanwhile, I'm going to be helping out with the music department, which I expect to find very satisfying.
Right now I'm listening to songs I downloaded yesterday the titles of which contain my name. I haven't found myself an anthem yet, but there is one golden oldie called "On the Gin Gin Ginny Shore" that's jaunty and charming enough to get some use as an intro.
Pitchfork was this weekend, you know. My favorite performances by far this year were from Jarvis Cocker and Spiritualized; the rest barely registered with me. This leads me to believe that I am getting Too Old For This Shit. When the only performers you really want to jostle up for are the ones you've been listening to for ten years already, maybe it's time to hang up the festival passes and stick to club shows.
I staked out a spot for Spiritualized about an hour ahead of time, and ended up standing right up front with only one gangly seventeen-year-old between me and J. Spaceman. Well, between me and the barrier and the photo pit and the security guard and the stage lip and J. Spaceman. Anyway, the seventeen-year-old and his friends spent the hour pre-music chatting trivia to each other in the way of teenage superfans while I relaxed behind my sunglasses and read intermittently. Their excitement was much more visible than mine, and their rock knowledge more extensive, but when it came time for Spiritualized to pull out the big wall of sound climax, which of us was man enough to remove his earplugs and enjoy the full force of lots and lots of speaker? That's right. The hearing loss that comes with experience trumped young enthusiasm handily. Those teens were wincing like newcomers.