#26

#Fiveseasonsandablog
My summer with Mad Men.

As I begin to write the sun is setting behind abandoned buildings in my town. Stale concrete relics turned amber for a few short minutes to make it seem like the lights were still turned on inside. Shadows moving across the windows like people scurrying around to answer a phone call, get a coffee, or to just sitting until someone walks through the front door to have the chance to say "may I help you?" Our economic system has hit the fan, but 50 years ago in a semi-make believe world it rages on like the bull it so accurately represents. Such is the life of the characters on the television series Mad Men which I finally had the pleasure of watching during the first half of my summer vacation away from the rest of the real world. I dug a hole, settled in, and watched the entire series in five weeks all the way up to the season five finale which just aired on June 10th.

My title is of course poking fun at the Community joke of six seasons and a movie. I've never watched the show so I'm not sure what exactly the joke is. I'll eventually get around to watching Community as I finally got around to watching Mad Men. It seemed like the right moment to start. School had finished for the semester, no homework means more free time. I was also feeling down after attending a friend's wedding and seeing couple upon couple fall over drunk with whatever combination of love and alcohol that appeared to intoxicate them. And without my work - my solid ground of Economics studies that had kept me whole and on point from January till May - I felt I was at a loss. My past demons crept back up on me and I would have none of it. Now seemed as good a time as any to relax and regroup with a bunch of strangers that smoked, drank, and sexed heavily. It was the excess I didn't know I needed.

It was quite the journey. One that I wish to share with everyone, hence this new 5 Songs In A Row in which I will be detailing my thoughts on each season of Mad Men through the songs played at the end of each season finale with the exception of season two since the last song was instrumental. So grab a few Lucky Strikes, a glass (or three) of Canadian Club, and enjoy the show.

"Don't Think Twice, It's All Right" - Bob Dylan

Season 1 - "The Wheel"

"It's not called the Wheel. It's called a Carousel. It lets us travel the way a child travels. Around and around, and back home again... to a place where we know we are loved." - Don Draper

Every now and then the television gods grant us a reprieve from the egregiousness of sub-par entertainment that passes for most of the prime time schedule. They give us a string to hold. It has a beginning, an end, and some pieces in between that you can hold and wrap around your fingers to weave some kind of personal connection. Mad Men is no different, but it is not a string, it is a heavy chain. It does not pull on your emotions, it rips them out so you can see what they look like on the inside. That feeling came on pretty quick which is why I didn't stop and watched all the episodes in rapid succession. The best shows are also always the ones where you see parts of yourself within the characters. It is the best way to connect and to me it's what makes other shows like LOST and 30 Rock so enjoyable. This isn't the "ooh! ohh! I'm totally a Chandler!" kind of thing, but more of a "oh, shit, yeah, I was a little bit of a Pete Campbell yesterday. I kinda hate myself." It's a little less of what they say and a little more of what they actually do and then other times it's the complete opposite. The writers are so adept at leading you one way in an episode and then dropping you off a cliff only to catch you when you reach the bottom. And then other times they just let you fall.

A week ago I cut my hand on a glass that broke as I was washing it. I can't stop looking at it as it heals and could very well form a noticeable scar. It will be a constant reminder of who and what I was thinking of when it happened. It takes me back to what Don Draper - easily one of the best main characters ever written for a show - was saying about the Kodak Carousel in season one's finale "The Wheel". We like to visit old memories even if they are the most terrible ones. We analyze what happened in the past as we get older hoping to find one iota of good that might've happened. Something minute we didn't recognize before because of a pain we still carried on our shoulders. Nostalgia is one of the most powerful tools we have for making better decisions that will effect our future. But we are told by the world, as Don tells Peggy, to move forward. That these things didn't happen. It establishes the duality of Jon Hamm's character. The split between Don Draper and Dick Whitman. The game of saying one thing and meaning the other and by selling the past like it's something new and shiny yet at the same time throwing it away like it's yesterday's newspaper. Heavy is the head that wears the two crowns.

But it wasn't the Kodak pitch scene that really got to me. It was the final scene of the episode, the old "expectation vs. reality" trick that always seems to grab a hold. Don feels he is redeeming himself by coming home in time to go away on holiday with Betty and the rest of his brood. One scene shows Don walking in to the house with the family still there. In his head he's saved, but life never works out the way a person wants it to and so Don instead enters an empty house. It's reality, his reality of realizing that he can't have the feeling of wanting to run away and at the same time still be able to come home as if nothing is wrong. But everything is wrong and it gives a good prologue of what is to come in the future.

Why do we create these false hopes? These alternate realities held in unreachable heights knowing full well that reality is right in front of our face and not 10,000 feet in the air. It's like every now and then we have to hang ourselves upside down and have someone shake us. Either that or listen to The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan in its entirety at three in the morning.

"The Infanta" - The Decemberists

Season 2 - "Meditations In An Emergency"

"One day you’re there and then all of a sudden there’s less of you. And you wonder where that part went, if it’s living somewhere outside of you, and you keep thinking maybe you’ll get it back. And then you realize, it’s just gone." 
- Peggy Olson

Let me first start off with a little disclaimer about the choice of song for season two. The finale did not have a song playing at the end, but merely a soft stringed instrumental to produce the mood of a sad and desperate wife telling her frustrated husband that she is pregnant. It wasn't this scene that wound up stabbing me in the chest, but the one with Peggy and Pete (more on that later). Instead I chose the song used in the opening of episode six, "Maidenform", to mix things up a bit and include something modern pressed in between the oldies. A song about a parade of royalty traveling to witness the coronation of their queen. Although the focus of this section will remain on the finale I want to mention the women in the show overall.

You see, my mother worked in Manhattan during roughly the same time period. She was a Peggy. Young and eager to work, yet stuck within the same stereotypical medieval "...but you're a woman" mindset from the men in charge of the companies she worked for. She wasn't in the advertising world, but it was the same wherever you worked. You had to fight and sometimes be even more tenacious than the men to get what you wanted and obviously deserved. You'd think by now we would've solved this problem along with many others. But no, we're still dealing with it, or should I say the men in D.C. are dealing with it by still telling women what they can and can't do with their anatomy. I'm not completely cynical in these matters though, I know we've made progress. I cringed quite a few times at the improper language that was used toward the minorities in Mad Men which made me thankful that our society has come a long way. However, it still has miles to go and it seems as if the car is sputtering out of gas.

Anyway. I, like many others, became interested in the collection of poems by Frank O'Hara with the same title as the season two's finale, "Meditations In An Emergency". I'll eventually read it just as other Mad Men-philes have before me, but just the title alone makes me think of Peggy and Pete's situation near the end. That uncomfortable feeling while Peggy tells Pete she gave their baby away in such a cold and emotionless candor. The mood and cadence of that scene and the way both Peggy and Pete eschewed from getting mad and raising their voices was some of the best acting I've ever seen. The calmness in the attitude of "this is what happened, this is what I did about it, and now it's done" was chilling.

Don was right, life is a time machine. You can go backwards and experience those ground shaking moments, but you can also forget them. The flashback during the episode "The New Girl" of Don telling Peggy "get out of here and move forward. This never happened. It will shock you how much it never happened" gives the viewer a taste of the power he has over himself and is willing to share with his young protégée. But as we all know, absolute power corrupts absolutely, and the more one tightens their grip the more everything seems to slip away. But Peggy uses this to her advantage by letting go and not throwing her life in reverse vis-à-vis forcing Pete to take responsibility for their mistake. It was erased which made it easier for her to tell him about it. There's been so many times I've done the same thing. Things that happened in the past. Bad things that are now gone from the history of your life to have the ability to just simply survive and move on.

"Shahdaroba" - Roy Orbison

Season 3 - "Shut the Door. Have a Seat"

"You said you'd always come home." 
- Sally Draper

I remember the split like it was yesterday. Probably because I am reminded of it constantly by the look my oldest daughter has on her face when I have to drop them back off to their mother. My youngest has always known that I do not live in their house so her fancy free attitude guides her well when it comes to any sort of disappointment that may come her way. I proud of her for that, it'll serve her well in the future. She lets harsh words roll off her like they are nothing and she is above such juvenile actions from other people. In fact on Father's Day my grandmother sent some nastiness her way because "a seven year old shouldn't be allowed to dye their hair blue." I didn't see anything wrong with it, but my elders felt it necessary to display their anger. My youngest just laughed and walked away. She has a knack for making people seem petty and ignorant on their own accord instead of talking back. It's the wit and courage I wish I had when I was her age. I digress.

My oldest is the sensitive one. She's like me. She worries too much. Let's little things bother her when they shouldn't. Gets frustrated when things don't go the way she wants them to turn out. I've had to explain a lot to her about the world, more than normal for a nine year old girl that constantly gets made fun of for being small for her age. I've told her that she must be strong because it's going to get more difficult as she gets older. It makes me feel old, having grown up talks with someone who still believes in fairies and Santa Clause. How do you explain the world? What do you say to your children when they ask why you aren't coming home? I don't think I'll ever have the right answer. Then again, there isn't supposed to be one.

No one likes having to leave someplace you love. But, I must ask this of our main character: Did he ever really truly love it? It's hard to say. He goes through the motions, but he seems to be vaguely distant. His other life, his city life, is what always calls to him. His heart loves his family, but his body yearns to work and feel needed by something bigger than him. Some place where he can create, even if it is the decisions of the common citizen. But he can't do it alone. His comrades keep him afloat in murky waters. One, in particular, of course, means more than the others. It's not every day your boss (boyfriend, husband, girlfriend, wife, friend, whatever) comes to your residence and tells you he needs you and if you don't go he'll spend the rest of his life trying to make up for it. We take up arms for ourselves every day we get out of bed, but how often do we get to do that for another? I wish I had. I still wish I could.

The "we have to go back!" moment of Joan answering the phone, Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce, in her most proper and professional voice is what sealed it all in a neatly folded envelope for the end of season three. Hand delivered to the viewer who, like me, was a ball of nicotine and nerves and needed that push forward to the next level. That feeling of empowerment that says "yes, you too can take charge and make something of yourself without the aid of a stranger." Shahdaroba essentially means keep moving on. The future is unknown, but you have the power to get there to find out. Bright or bleak it is exciting that it is even happening. And that is an important lesson I will teach to my children as well. That it doesn't matter what people say or do to hold you back, because they don't control you. It is just the projection of the attempt to control themselves. You are no slave to other people's wishes, demands, or contracts. If you want to start your own advertising firm, then go right ahead! And if you want to do it with blue hair, well, you can do that too.

"I Got You Babe" - Sonny & Cher

Season 4 - "Tomorrowland"

"Just 'cause you're sad doesn't mean everyone has to be." 
- Glen Bishop

Why do people do horrible things? I wish I had a honest and somewhat poignant answer to that question. Truth is I don't know because whatever happens it's always from out of nowhere. Even the good things are too, but those are rare these days. I want to know why humanity seems to want to destroy itself through individuals making the decision to do the wrong thing. I don't want to whine about it though like some kid who didn't get dessert for a week because he's being punished. I'm too old and cynical to believe there's some great purpose and path that some unknown force has already soiled. I live day to day and witness reality from somewhat of a distance so I can see the big picture all at once. Although sometimes I zoom in and focus on one thing and let everything else become blurry until it's completely distorted and unrecognizable. That is how I get sad the most I think.

This season is my favorite overall. I can't really tell you why. It's just something that is, which is why I must bring up several episodes from this season instead of just the finale. There are two back-to-back that particularly stick out amongst the others. "The Suitcase" and "The Summer Man" became somewhat of a diatribe about my mental state as I was watching. Falling back into the ill repute of old habits. I didn't want any of it. I mean, life sucks for many reasons. It's unfair, but that's something you get used to really quick, right? The reality of people dying, the reality of people that can't or won't communicate with you, and the reality of people moving away. We start to miss everyone which I think is part of the reason I went into a small hibernation. Better to not have anyone around to miss. That's no way to live, but you have to get through it to see the other side.

For Don it was booze and debauchery to get him through his divorce and eventually it came to a head in "The Suitcase". We carry so much baggage around with us. It's nice to know that certain people are around to help shove everything back in when it comes falling out. And the contents are never folded neatly as much as we'd like them to be. They're organized just enough to get us to the next destination, wherever that may be. In "The Summer Man", Don tries his hand at trying to be responsible. Cutting back on the whiskey, exercising, even writing in a journal. I totally get how those tiny cool spots on the bed are supposed to be appreciated, but I've had so many years of those. You want to be able to see someone there when you wake up and then once you see that person you can't imagine them not being there. I've resigned to the thought that whoever she may be she's not close by which just furthers my resolve to leave this god awful state.

Every day I think about where I'm going and how I'm going to get there. You can't stop progress. Bobby was right in "Tomorrowland", who wants to fly an elephant when you can fly a jet? It was sort of a nod to Don picking Megan as his bride to be instead of Faye Miller. The entire season was spent leading up to the Don and Faye love tryst and then, just like that, he picks someone else because he can and arguably doesn't really care what anyone else thinks. Peggy knew though, she sees right through his bullshit, and apparently Joan's as well. But what does it matter? Don got what he wanted, his babe. I want to know what he was thinking in the scene when he was sitting in the hotel room alone after him and the kids came back from Anna's house and right before he joined them in the pool. He looked how I look almost every night I go out lately. I drift off by myself with my drink in hand and look pensively at the ground until I have to dodge the inevitable question of "what's wrong?" Nothing is wrong, I'm just trying to put everything back into focus. To keep going at a very steady yet indolent pace so I'm not sad anymore from the grim and overwhelmingly dire feeling of loneliness and the reality of not having you, babe.

"You Only Live Twice" - Nancy Sinatra

Season 5 - "The Phantom"

"When it went away he was heartbroken. And then he realized everything he already had was not right either. And that was why it had happened at all. And that his life with his family was some temporary bandage on a permanent wound." - Pete Campbell

We've reached our stopping point, but it is not the end quite yet. The anticipation for what will happen in season six is building as we speak. That sly and casual look that Don gives at the very end of "The Phantom" tells us that the old Don will be making a come back. Ad man by day, rich playboy by night. The man every man wanted to be back then it seems. That double life comes with a price as does every other decadent and ostentatious piece of property these people want to control. Don thought he could control Megan and her career. Pete thought he could control his lack of joie de vivre. Layne, the poor bloke, thought he could control money itself. And Joan...well, she gained a bit of control, didn't she? And even that came with a price as well. Nothing's for free and we're constantly reminded of that on Mad Men. They are there to tell you what to buy and not buy. What you like and don't like. The decisions make themselves even though we think we're the ones consciously deciding. We are undoubtedly and predictably irrational in matters of commerce and eventually of the heart. We see those things for what they are from the outside looking in while following the dark paths of a few Manhattenites taking a bite out of the world all while trying to avoid looking down as they fall.

I've had to take an extended break from 5SIAR. As much as I'd love to spread the word, I don't have time to stand in the street with a sign right now. I, like the bees at Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce, inevitably have to work to support myself and my daughters. I took the "American dream", cut it up, and threw away the fat. What I'm left with is that hunger for happiness which is never satisfied, because Don is right, I want more. Not for myself, but for my girls. Pretty soon they will deal with the world as it comes at them and by the looks of it it's going to be dirtier than the city Sally experienced. So I continue this capitalist craving to satiate my monetary needs while dreaming of those greener pastures on the other side. Write this, create that. Change that color, pick a better tag line. It needs more! Stop asking for a raise! You want to go to Paris!? Punch in. Punch out. And so on, and so on, all while dealing with the smoke that gets in your eyes that sucks the light out of the room.

The darkness never really goes away it just gets subdued for a while during brief fleeting moments of the supreme illusion of resolution and solace. Don walking away from his princess being preened and back into black signifies the realization that he can never completely mold a partner into something he wants and needs and can hold on to forever. And so, he goes back to his old life. His stability, as with the other characters as well, lies within those dark recesses whether they like it to be or not. It's unfortunately where they flourish because it's a place that creates that craving for happiness. Because what do we want when we are happy? More happiness. And I hope the second part of this year brings it not only to me, but everyone else that's searching for it too. As Don would say to Betty, "everything's going to be fine."

#25

STOP SOPA AND PIPA!

Write to your congressman/woman and tell them you do not support censorship of the internet. We are not China or North Korea, nor are we any other state that supports the suppression of information.

5. "We're Not Gonna Take It" - Twisted Sister





4. "What's Goin' On?" - Marvin Gaye




3. "Fight For Your Right" - Beastie Boys





2. "Get Up, Stand Up" - Bob Marley and the Wailers




1. "Fuck Tha Police" - N.W.A.

#24

The First

January 1, 2012. My night was set on fire. Orange and yellow in the air. Red on her lips. The slow burn of blue on everything else. Emotions were high, it was to be expected though considering what specific night it was. It was new year's eve and on the stroke of 12 everything gets erased. Right?

Right?

I wish we had backspaces, deletes, and control-Zs. Undos not just for certain scenes and events, but for life baggage. The stuff that is constantly with you no matter where you go. The stained shirts and dirty jeans. They've been with you through thick and thin and to throw them away would be like losing a part of yourself that you just can't let go of. It's like cutting off an arm or two. But sometimes, just sometimes, I think I'd be okay as a paraplegic. I'd survive.

There are no resolutions to break. I can't keep promises to myself. But sure enough I will run through hell with a bomb strapped to my body and detonate it to make sure people that are close to me are happy. Certain ones in particular.

This off the cuff 5SIAR is about one of those persons, our new years, and the morning after that I spent making myself a gut rot kind of breakfast to cure the hangover from not just the booze, but from that person as well.

"Drive" - The Cars

Wearing my cheap sunglasses to save my poor head from anymore damage I braved the sun and ventured out to the grocery store for supplies.

Starbucks coffee (Luckily it was on sale)
Eggs
Bacon (Duh)
Marble rye bread (The best breakfast always involves a good marble rye)

I procured my items and started making my way to the cashier when this song came on. And here I thought I was doing so well shoving the night into a box and putting it on a shelf. No, not yet, because the contents just came spilling back out because of a song. It's always because of a song isn't it?

I found myself just standing in one spot underneath one of the speakers in the ceiling just so I could listen. People passed by and probably wondered what I was doing just standing there. To make myself not seem so peculiar I pretended to look at the ready made chili mixes on one of the shelves. I had already scared myself, I didn't want to scare other people too.

The entire night was on my mind, more specifically the drive home. It was quiet for the most part. Even if we did talk I don't remember what we said to each other. We were both drunk and we might have said something to the effect of wondering where the DUI check points were in town, but who knows. All I can recall right now is her perfume. It was still fresh in my car when I drove to the store. It's on everything. My hoodie as well.

After breakfast I think I'll go wash my car and do laundry.

"Holocene" - Bon Iver

I think I get why so many people love this album. It has a kind of loathing that everyone can identify with. Or something like that. I don't know. It's in the way Justin Vernon says "And at once I knew I was not magnificent" like he's fighting to accept it, but obviously can't. Some of us battle with our past and never seem to win. Oh how I wish we could have some kind of small victory. I wanted it to be last night.

"Hybrid Moments" - The Misfits

This was your song of the night. You kept begging me to play it before the stroke of midnight. So I did. I don't know what it was about this song that turned your volume up to 11, but it made me smile to see you have so much fun singing along to it.

It's going on the mix I'll eventually make but not give you.

"Something In The Night" - Bruce Springsteen

That makes three songs with lyrics that have to do with driving and/or being on a highway. Love, or something that looks like it, is always a long road.

Thanks, Boss.

"Love Is Like A Bottle Of Gin" - The Magnetic Fields

It makes you blind, it does you in
It makes you think you're pretty tough
It makes you prone to crime and sin
It makes you say things off the cuff
It's very small and made of glass
and grossly over-advertised
It turns a genius to an ass
and makes a fool think he is wise
It could make you regret your birth
or turn cartwheels in your best suit
It costs a lot more than it's worth
and yet there is no substitute
They keep it on a higher shelf
the older and more pure it grows
It has no color in itself
but it can make you see rainbows
You can find it on the Bowery
or you can find it at Elaine's
It makes your words more flowery
It makes the sun shine, makes it rain
You just get out what they put in
and they never put in enough

Love is like a bottle of gin
but a bottle of gin is not like love.

#23

It's Not Easy Being Green

I was going to try to write something witty in the vein of an epitaph about how I feel like this blog is dying or is already dead. In fact I already had a solid paragraph penciled in. Something about hitting a wall and trying my hardest to walk through it. Bloody nose and all. But I didn't know how to go further than that. I thought to myself, "what else could I say that I haven't already said before?" Music...emotion...music and emotion. It all sounds like an echo that's bouncing off that same wall and won't stop. So, the only choice I do have is to stay silent for a bit to let the sound cool off. Being still comes easy for me. Hell, I haven't been to the gym in over a month now. I've gone back to smoking the occasional cigarette. My health hasn't necessarily deteriorated, but it's not exactly running on all eight cylinders. I guess the real issue is trying to convert that gas-guzzling engine into something more clean and efficient. Something that will carry me through the long haul of life. I need sustainability. I need to go green.

Holidays are always rough patches for me. The lack of money and then the stress of working more because of the lack of money. It can drag any person down as we have already seen in the past three years since the crash of 2008. I don't have to tell you that people have lost their jobs and homes. I don't need to give you the answers, you already know them. Some of you are a statistic. And what do the commercials say in regards to drunk driving or wearing your seat belt? "DON'T BECOME A STATISTIC!" Too late. This country (or should I say the 1%?) has already drank enough Four Loko, gotten behind the wheel, and hit the gas. I know many people that are jobless. Sure, it may be a lack of skills, but mostly it's a lack of money in the small business sector to provide those jobs. Oh, but wait, wasn't that what TARP was supposed to do? Where's that money? I think we already know the answer to that question too.

Don't get me wrong, folks. I still love music and I still love writing about it. But it's not just about me anymore and my problems. It's everyone else too and their 99 problems, or, their 99% problems. Which is why I'm going back to school for economics and political science. I don't think money is god, but I want to find out why people want to keep money as god. Gandhi said "be the change you wish to see in the world." So if we want our political landscape to change more of us need to take part in it or at least be knowledgeable about it. And I'm not talking about old ideas that cause people to sail under one flag or another. Conservative versus Liberal. Keynesian versus Hayekian. Korn versus Limp Bizkit (remember that fight? HA!). We need to go radical and come up with a plan that helps everyone. Even the ones that like Nickleback.

For now though, this new found obsession with the state of things has breathed new life into 5SIAR. I know I said I wanted to concentrate on the music and only the music on this blog and nothing else. But now it's time to flip-flop on that decision. Music means something different to me now. Just don't call me Newt or Mitt for changing my mind. You've been warned.

"One Time" - The Roots

The Roots have a new album out. Good, I needed some space to fill on my year-end mix. There hasn't been too many albums released this year that have grabbed my attention. However someone just gave me a few more new releases for me to ingest and digest. But first, this album, undun. It's become standard practice for The Roots to deliver us from evil with their intense story lines about the world in which we live in. For example, Black Thought name drops the Occupy movement on this track. I haven't listened enough times to really grasp what the context of the mention is, but I'm sure Thought and the rest of his band are pro-Occupy. I mean, they played Fishbone's "Lyin' Ass Bitch" as Michelle Bachmann's intro music when she was on Jimmy Fallon. Of course she was none the wiser, but in an interview with Pitchfork ?uestlove said that they regret doing it now. I say keep stirring the pot.

Every time I think of a politician listening to music I always think of George W. trying to play drums with that African dance company or Bill Clinton jammin' on the sax. Or the pièce de rèsistance, John Ashcroft singing "Let The Eagle Soar." Oh, the humanity.

I wonder what Obama listens to. Hrmm... Nah, he's not that cool.

I'm going to have to say that in the realm of music political activism is partly erased. Or maybe I'm not listening to the right shit? As noted in Chris Hedges' book Death Of The Liberal Class, people used to listen to Bob Dylan for their answers not LBJ and Nixon during the 60s. I'm paraphrasing of course. While people may not look towards artists for their revolution ammo now, that doesn't mean it's not there. A good example would be PJ Harvey's recent album Let England Shake or some punk band that I'm not listening to but probably should.

My mind is drawing a blank again. Forgive me if this post winds up being short. It could have something to do with me being hungry. To combat this I have begun to shove Ritz crackers with peanut butter into my mouth like a fat kid clinging desperately to a failed diet.

Oh, look, the Grammy nominations just dropped. My Twitter feed is abuzz with Bon Iver getting the nod for an award or four. I'll call it right now that Señor Vernon will win and NO ONE will even know who the heck he is just like NO ONE knew who Arcade Fire was when they won last year. There's a tumblr about that actually. But what's even more hilarious is this video. I guess you could've just watched the video on the tumblr page, but I as I said before, I want to help people in this world. Consider that my first act of public service.

"Who's That Girl?" - Robyn

So, yeah, nominations. Radiohead is on there, obviously, for The King Of Limbs. No surprise there. But what's this my eyes do see? Robyn has been nom'ed as well! I was going to use a Radiohead song, but fuck it, we're going with Robyn. Did I mention I was the only dude dancing at Bonnaroo when she was on stage for her set? I have no shame. I'm sure at some point if I decide to run for public office this will come back to haunt me. No, not my illicit drug use. None of the (alleged) trespassing charges that never stuck. But some pundit will break the story of me dancing my ass off in public to Robyn. America is getting so goddamned tight-wadded that I wouldn't be a bit surprised to open the newspaper one day in the future and see a headline that reads "NICHOLAS TRUDEN CAUGHT DANCING TO GIRL MUSIC!" Yeah, so? I'll admit it. I shook that thing my mama gave AND I waved it around like I just didn't care! Suck it, America.

There's another Robyn track I really love too. It's called "Who's That Girl?" and was the song that garnered her a negative response from her label at the time which then propelled her to start her own label, Konichiwa Records. Every time I listen to "Who's That Girl?" it reminds me of a quote from the author of the comic Phonogram, Kieron Gillien, and what he said about the track. I may have mentioned it before in a previous post, but here it is again.

“i listen to "who’s that girl?" and i think of every girl i’ve trapped in my expectations of her, and think of every time i feel as if i’ve been trapped in theirs. i think of the infinite distance between people and - nevertheless - our urge to cross that gap, knowing that most people fall into the void. it makes me want to dance, and makes me know that no matter how big the dance floor, no matter how many friends i was with, how happy i was…i’d be alone, and i know i’ll always be alone. and so will everyone else. but - most importantly - it doesn’t matter.”

Whenever I feel down I go back to that quote and listen to the song. It makes me feel better. I don't know how or why, but it does. Maybe because Kieron is right. We are alone, but it never really matters anyway in the greater scheme of things. There will always be friends and a dance floor and songs from Robyn. Those things are eternal.

"Cruel" - St. Vincent

"You can't apologize your way into people's hearts. You have to go full force." - Annie Clark

I envy this woman. She makes not having any emotion look so damn easy. And beautiful. Her gestures speak for themselves and they're not really saying much. This is what numb looks like.

"What If We Could?" - Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross

I had a dream. I had a dream you were my neighbor. I had a dream you were my neighbor and as we were sitting outside a man approached us at our little table. I don't remember what he said, it's possible he didn't say anything at all. But I remember the look on your face when you told me that this wasn't going to work. You and I. You looked down at the table and your dark hair masked the sides of your face like blinders on a horse. The man was then blocked from your view so I looked at him just so I wouldn't have to look at you. Or our table.

That was all I remember from a dream I had this past week. A brunette with dark eyes sitting across from me. I don't remember the dialog, but I'm sure it wasn't kind judging how I remembered the scene by listening to this new song from The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo soundtrack. All I can recall now is her face and head, and the brown hair that fell from it that hid her brown eyes. I thought I'd be okay, but it's always something, something aural, that causes the most painful sting. Which is why I will always consider Trent Reznor one of the most prolific and conscious songwriters of our time and how I wish Chad Kroger would just stop already.

Am I bitter? Yes. Is it going to go away? Unlikely. I am who I am because of my penchant for not forgetting. I tend to hold grudges. I've buried most of them, but that doesn't mean they aren't there beneath the surface. I just need to throw the shovel away, but my grip on it is like that of a vice. I won't let go. And that will always be my problem. I'll never leave the table.

"Bloom" - Radiohead (Jamie xx Rework)

I decided to go ahead and put Radiohead on here anyway to make a point. The Kings Of Limbs has become the new bad Radiohead album. It pushed ahead of Hail To The Thief to take the top spot of least favorite among many of the casual and non-casual fans. Myself included. But I'm at war with this decision because I don't want to give up the idea that Radiohead can make a bad album. Truth is, any band can. Even Radiohead. Now what I want to know is, did they do it on purpose? Is King Of Limbs Radiohead's Exit Through The Giftshop? Did they turn the camera on us to see what we would do? I keep wondering if that's the statement between the songs. I mean, it's still Radiohead, and even though we're not getting the same kind of OK Computer or Kid A kind of genius, I feel like King Of Limbs still has something to teach us; It doesn't matter who it is, art doesn't always have to be loved.

It's weird to think that someone could be fucking with our heads like that. Making us sit down and question things. But that is what we should be doing most of the time anyway. This is why I feel Radiohead commissioned all of these remixes to be created. They asked, "how would you have done it?" It's not surprising that most of the remixes are actually better than their originals. Listening through it sounds like the only piece used from the original tracks is Thom's vocals. Everything else was produced by the remixers. Truth be told, this collection is the real King Of Limbs.

Radiohead isn't hurting for cash. I'm sure they wouldn't have flinched if absolutely no one bought The King Of Limbs. What I'd like to know is whether or not these remixes have had higher sales than KOL. If so it would almost be like Radiohead is doing what other leaders have suggested doing, and that is to "spread the wealth." Sound familiar? I'm sure it does to you and I'm almost just as sure you might be calling me a commie inside your head. Fair enough, but I'm not talking about a set of ideals taken from the story of Robin Hood. Where a thief takes from the rich and gives to the poor. Our society doesn't need a middle man. What we need are the opportunities without the enormous cost or any cost at all. What people don't understand about capitalism is that its goal is to have everything bought and sold in a market. It's a system of haves and have nots. I wish more people would see this, but it takes turning off the television and opening up a book or newspaper once in a while. You'll find that death is a pretty hot commodity lately.

People say that capitalism has improved our way of life and we are better for it. Noam Chomsky made a good point saying the same thing about the improved conditions of slavery from the 18th century to the 19th century. Does that still mean slavery is moral? How can America be the richest country in the world yet be in the middle or at the bottom on lists of countries with a better health care system or school system. The only thing we're at or near the top of the list for is the amount of money we spend on defense and the number of people incarcerated.

We need new ideas. Ones that aren't based off the systems we have in place now. The thing is is that these new ideas aren't new at all. They've been around for a long time and have become bastardized by our government, the media, and even the art community. We have no real choice anymore, and if voting actually changed something it would be illegal. This is why we need the remixers of the world to stand up. We've seen what Occupy Wall Street has done, just imagine what else we can do once more people wipe the dust from their eyes from sleeping so long to get to the American dream. We need to stop seeing green in everything and start seeing red. But first we need to get mad.

#22

Uhmerica, FUCK YEAH!
ps. Bonnaroo


Today's the fourth of July (no it's not, but it was when I started writing this). It's time to dust off the Skynyrd tapes, fire up the pit, and sling back a few dozen of your favorite American brews. In some parts of the country (almost all of it) people are waving their flags with their families and rejoicing in the freedoms bestowed upon them by our forefathers. The rest of us just use it as an excuse to drink and blow shit up. And we don't even need to wear the Pro-Palin t-shirts to do it. I mean, really, does this day really mean anything to anyone except that they get a day off from work? I'd like to celebrate the way the founders of our country probably did. Smoke some of their marijuana cash crop, have sex with one of their "housekeepers", and call it a day. Actually, I wouldn't mind throwing around a pigskin right now. If only it wasn't 100,000,000 degrees outside. Speaking of hot weather, I shall digress from my Independunce Day rant and travel back in time to three, nay, four weeks ago. A time of endless dirt, buckets of sweat, hippies, good food, and even better bands. I am speaking of Bonnaroo 2011. We came. We saw. We conquered.

Four friends and I packed a car with enough booze to quench the thirst of Jimmy McNulty and made our way to Manchester, Tennessee - A small little community past the Blue Ridge Mountains that's home to one of the biggest music festivals that is now in their eleventh year running. Every second week in June thousands of people converge onto a farm to hear some of the biggest names in music, new and old. The name Bonnaroo comes from a Dr. John album (he was there this past year) and is Cajun for "good time." Well, it certainly was a good time. So much in fact that I was sick for two weeks afterwards. Shut up, you'd be sick too if your amount of sleep over the course of 4 days didn't come close to double digits.

So for this 5SIAR I have the stories accompanied by some music to prove that everyone should try Bonnaroo at least once. There are naysayers out there, I know. To which I say to you- deal with wearing a layer of dirt for a few days. It's worth it.

"Generator ^ 1st Floor" - Freelance Whales
Chosen by Rachel Crump

So I asked my fellow travelers to give me a song that summed up their experience at 'Roo. I'm currently having a little trouble coming up with mine so I'll start with the picks they made. I have never heard this band Freelance Whales until now as I write this. And since I obviously hadn't heard them when Bonnaroo was going on I wasn't going to fill my time with seeing them lest I miss something else important. Like, going down a giant inflatable waterslide. That thing saved our lives from the Tennessee sun which is remarkably very similar to the Florida sun. There was no relief from being north of my home state where hell's heat gets vented. No, the Tennessee heat was just as miserable so any respite from it received a very warm welcome. PUN INTENDED!

It cost a person $10 for a wristband to ride the waterslide an unlimited amount of times throughout the entire weekend of Bonnaroo, and I must say that that was the best $10 I spent while I was there. My friends and I must've went down that thing at least 5 times a day and we probably would've been on it even more were it not for the bands that we wanted to see. In fact, I think I might've skipped out on a few bands just to be in close contact with either a) water, b) shade, or c) water and shade. Both of those things were necessary if you were to survive there. I still don't know how the masses were getting drunk at 2 in the afternoon. Two people died during Bonnaroo this year, and by the looks of all the people carrying around booze cups between the times of noon and 6pm there should've been more. Maybe I'm just old fashioned in the I like being hydrated and alive kind of way.

Blogger keeps telling me that waterslide should be two words or have a hyphen between water and slide. It's one word. It's one word because it deserves to be held together on its own with no other punctuation. It's earned that right. Studies have even shown that it's impossible not to smile while riding a waterslide. It's even more impossible not to smile while riding a waterslide at Bonnaroo. We went down the thing backwards, forwards, sideways, and any other which way to get the maximum amount of pleasure we could squeeze out of it. A tip of the hat goes to the organizers of Bonnaroo for including this masterpiece of aquatic entertainment. Bring it back next year or there could be riots.

"Wonderful (The Way I Feel)" - My Morning Jacket
Chosen by Mark Nixon

So there's this band called My Morning Jacket. Maybe you've heard of them, maybe you haven't. They make for good driving music. They also make for a good band to play before Arcade Fire after waiting for hours in dry summer heat. The sun was our enemy for the entire trip. That unrelenting, unforgiving orange ball of suck that cast its rays down on the tired masses. It was Day 2, and having already learned that I cannot beat Apollo at his own game from Day 1, I wasn't about to take my chances outdoors without the proper amount of H20 that was needed. However, my comrades and I were determined to have a front row for Arcade Fire. It was part of the reason why we even bought tickets to the festival in the first place and we weren't about to concede to a defeat. Well, at least my comrades weren't. I pussed out...sorta.

It was around 4:00ish, I think, when Grace Potter & The Nocturnals were done with their set. The Decemberists were the next band up at 5:00...I think. I don't know to be honest, it's all hazy now. I should've written this right after I got back from Tennessee, but you know, I'm fucking lazy. You're just gonna have to deal with half memories or in some cases quarter memories. Hell, I might even just start making shit up.

So in between The Decemberists and the pterodactyl invasion I decided to seek shade and acquire more water before the dehydration got the best of me again. Day 1 was brutal, man. I ALMOST DIED! I was lucky to have friends there who didn't just want to kick dirt on me and give me snarky looks for wearing a fanny pack. I was brought back to life. More accurately, I was fanned back to life. But back to Day 2. It was Friday and we were sick of the sun and ready to get to the "punched out Deebo" part of our day. I was out of water and my two friends (we'll call them Mark and Tina, because those are their real names) were rationing what little water they had left for the rest of the evening, which wasn't much at all. Begrudgingly, I admitted an early defeat and trekked back to Centeroo for my punch and pie. I sat inside an air conditioned makeshift sports bar (because America can't go four days without sports) and chugged two bottles of water while watching the Decemberists' set on giant flat screen TVs. This was more like it, I thought, but then I also didn't want to miss My Morning Jacket or Arcade Fire. I also didn't want Mark and Tina to die from hyperthermia.

Hyperthermia [hahy-per-thur-mee-uh] - Elevated body temperature due to failed thermoregulation. Hyperthermia occurs when the body produces or absorbs more heat than it can dissipate. The more you know, people.

I tightened my suspenders (fanny pack belt), dusted myself off (pointless and futile), and set back out to join back up with my parched partners in crime and give them the sweet relief of fresh, non-backwashed, water. I know what you're wondering though. "But Nick, how did you manage to get through a sea of people to return to the front row? Surely your path must have been blocked by hundreds, literally hundreds of hippies." And you would be correct, but here's the catch. The hundreds of other hippies who were watching The Decemberists were leaving as I was coming back. There were holes in which to fit through, I just had to dodge a few hacky sacks to make use of them, and make use of them I did. I also had to pretend there was an emergency and tell me people to get the fuck out of my way. Finally though, there was victory.

I made it back to the front where Mark and Tina still were and their eyes lit up at the sight of me holding two extra bottled of water for them. I have no analogy to equate and compare this scene to so just use your imagination. They were fucking happy and I was the hero they deserved and needed. So, yeah, the rest of the night (and the trip) was indeed wonderful. Well, except for Tina getting pelted in the face with a beach ball. That kinda sucked. Oh, and she also ran over a squirrel with her car. So there's that too... But the rest of it was great!

"California One/Youth And Beauty Brigade" - The Decemberists
Chosen by Tina Jones

Tina stated on my Facebook page, "The Decemberists did not play this song, nor did we drive to Cali. But I feel this choice embodies what we all shared." Cue the studio audience awwwwww. She's right though, the song sums up the camaraderie the five of us had while on this trip. No one fought with each other. No one got on anyone else's nerves. We all wanted the same thing. Which was to share one of the best experiences possible from Day 1 to Day 4. From driving up to Tennessee and driving back down home to Florida. Part one of this song is all about driving, specifically on California's coastal highway, Route 1. And while our car may not have traveled that famous shoreline road we did travel quite a distance to get somewhere we all needed to be.

Packed into a compact sedan for 8-9 hours with four other people may make a certain person go insane or feel claustrophobic. I luckily did not experience either of those things. It was uncomfortable, yes, but never torturous. Torturous is spending just one hour in the car with my parents without headphones at my disposal. Everyone should know what this is like because everyone has some kind of "my parents are so annoying" story to tell. I can't imagine being cooped up in a small space with my parents for 8 hours straight. I'd need some serious downers. Thankfully my parents were not involved so I didn't need that bar of Xanax after all.

The five of us were troopers. Especially Tina considering she drove the entire way to Tennessee. Her secret of course was lots of caffeine. There was a 5 Hour Energy Drink, a Red Bull, and a large cup of coffee involved all at one time. I'm still unsure to this day how her heart managed not to explode. The human body is a resilient thing. However, three of us got sick upon returning. It took two weeks to get over the hippie flu and that was with antibiotics. It was miserable. All I wanted to do was throw a frisbee around and make bongs out of random household objects.

"Strange Times" - The Black Keys
Chosen by Chris Mitchell

I've never listened to this song before. To be honest I've never been a fan of The Black Keys. Their mix of blues and rock just never really appealed to me, but I can understand why people would like them. They're catchy, I'll give them that. I look for one of two things when I listen to a band. Does it cause an emotional response or does it make me want to move? All the artists I enjoy have either one or both qualities. The Black Keys unfortunately have neither. There must've been some reason Chris picked this band and their song to represent his time at Bonnaroo. Or he could just be lazy like me and pulled a song out of his ass just to give me one. I mean, he's a funny guy. The tantrum to get an Aqua Teen hat at the Adult Swim carnie games was proof enough.

Again, my memory does not serve me correctly. I can't remember what the hell I was doing when The Black Keys were performing. Does anyone remember? It was Saturday night, correct? Because they played before Eminem went on. Right? Fuck it. The only thing that really mattered on Saturday night was Scissor Sisters and Girl Talk. In fact that was more like Sunday morning considering we didn't get back to the hotel room till 6:00AM. Then we were back up at 8:00 to do it all over again. Then we were up fairly late Sunday night trying to put a dent in our cache of beer by playing Circle Of Death. Strange Good times.

"The Suburbs" - Arcade Fire
Chosen by me

"Your part of town against mine so you're standing on the opposite shore."

That line sums it all up for me. I don't know why, but it does. Could be the way I felt the first time I heard it played live last August in Atlanta seeping into how I felt when they played it at Bonnaroo. Two separate occasions, two very different meanings. The duality of the song and the duality of how all of our lives have those black and white moments even though it's still cradled by all of the grey that's in between. It always seems like there's a war going on between nouns. People, places, things. That constant struggle everyone calls life. I've taken the more cynical approach by just saying "whatever." But even cynicism has failed.

"No matter how cynical you become, it's never enough to keep up." - Jane Wagner

And she's right. It's not enough. Which is why I miss being a kid. Cynicism had no meaning yet.

This is why we spend a night or a day or a few days and nights forgetting about all of the bullshit that we have to worry about that happens on the other days. We need our release from the front lines. We need fucking concerts and Four Loko that has 12% alcohol. We need to try to set up a tent without the directions. We need a dude Jazzercising to School Of Seven Bells. We need to sing at the top of our lungs when our favorite song comes on. We need to eat Taco Bus everyday because it's fucking delicious. We need to push Gumby out of the way while trying to find the room to dance to whatever Greg Gillis is playing at the time. We need to get closer to the stage when Sleigh Bells is on so our ears bleed from the high decibel level. We need to take care of someone when the heat gets to them. We need to go down the waterslide one more time. We need to just forget about the war every now and then.

#21

5-10-15-20-25

I was recently reminded of the part in High Fidelity where the main character Rob looks up all his old girlfriends in a sort of "what does it all mean?" mid-life crisis. While the situation seems to be common for most people, for me it just seems like a gimmick to help cope with some kind of pain that's still lingering. Kind of like how people go to psychics to get help or post something on Facebook to get attention from peers in a non-direct way. I think most psychics are fake, and the Facebook posts wind up just getting blocked from my news stream. So I'm sorry if I didn't like your the photos you posted of your stupid baby. You're probably blocked.

As for me, instead of taking the "what does it all mean?" approach. Instead of awkwardly calling up all my ex's to ask them "what happened to us?" I go for the best kind of memory erasing I can give myself within the bounds of human consciousness and capability. Photos get destroyed, keepsakes are burned, songs aren't listened to for a long time. Hell, just last week I listened to Passion Pit for the first time in almost a year. To be honest, I think I can probably go the rest of my life without hearing them again. They just didn't make the impression on me that I need to stick with an artist no matter what the memory connected to them may be.

So instead of looking back at memories that do not need unearthing, I'd rather dig up some other ones that allow me to ask and answers the questions of my own being. Other people influence our personalities, but it's how we process those connections in relation to how we feel at the time that causes those neural pathways to form the way they do. Which brings me to the subject of this new 5SIAR.

Pitchfork has a column they run called 5-10-15-20-25 in which they ask musicians what they were listening to when they were those ages. It's interesting to see what everyone puts and how my choices are so lame in comparison. But this is what made me. And I only get one personal musical history so I should make the best of it by sharing it with all of you. Prepare to laugh and silently mock me.

"In The Mood" - Robert Plant

People have very blurred and distorted memories from when they were small children. It's our brain's natural defense against the very first pains we experience when growing up since we are still mentally immature to handle them all. We don't know how to cope with certain behaviors and surroundings. I remember bits and pieces as I'm sure you do as well of your childhood. The one thing that always sticks out among the people I've talked to is that they always remember what music their parents were playing. I seem to recall a lot of The Beatles. One of my first memories is my mother rocking me to sleep while humming "Let It Be." Paul was always her favorite and I have her Wings albums. No, I do not listen to them.

It wasn't until my family and I moved to Florida from our hometown of Rahway, NJ that I remember a specific song that was played just for me. It was "In The Mood" from Plant's solo album The Principle of Moments. I just remember this one song even though I know they played the entire album. I was 5 and my bedroom was the fold-out couch in the living room of our one bedroom apartment. My parents put this album on one night as a soundtrack for me to fall asleep to. Not sure what my parents were thinking. It's not exactly an album that is soothing with Plant's vocals being so metallic and sharp. What kind of 5 year old would enjoy this? Me, I guess. Or at least that's what my dad probably thought at the time since it was his cassette.

I'm not close with my dad. We barely have anything to say to each other most of the time. But we do share a love of certain types of music and I have to give credit where credit is due. He introduced me to Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd. Two of the greats, obviously, and as time went on in my youth he would constantly play Physical Graffiti and Dark Side Of The Moon. I've tried returning the favor by giving him newer music to listen to, but I never have any success. It may be because I caught him listening to "Everybody Hurts" one day and made fun of him for it. Did I mention we don't get along very well? On a more positive note, he's finally stopped listening to Celine Dion.

"Head Over Heels" - Tears For Fears

My time table is a little off for this song and album. I was listening to Songs From The Big Chair when I was around 7 or 8. Honestly though, I loved it so much that it was still played in the car when I was 10. It was required listening every time we went on a trip somewhere. Short or long. My parents only had one car for a while so I was always with my mom when she had to pick my dad up from work. As soon as we'd get in the car I'd beg her to play Tears For Fears, and of course bring the great mom she is, she always had the tape ready for me. Side one track one, "Shout", was one of my first favorite songs, but it was MTV and their constant rotation of the video for "Head Over Heels" that finally made me decide that Songs From The Big Chair was to be my first favorite album. I seriously loved that song so much I wanted to watch the video for it on repeat. And so begins my very first musical obsession.

When my parents finally caved and became cable television addicts they got a big kick out of recording the music videos off of MTV with their new state of the art VCR. We were climbing up the middle-class ladder. We moved out of the shitty one bedroom apartment and into a new three bedroom house. My dad even had his own work car once and for all. An old Datsun hatchback that required the bumper being held in place with electrical tape. This would later become a standing joke in our household. So with fiscal security came better Christmas presents. I finally got a Nintendo, but more importantly I finally got my own boombox with a cassette player for my room. This added luxury would become more important to my personal and social evolution than a gaming system. I never had to blow into a cassette tape to get it to play either.

Most of my pre-teen music exposure was attributed to those video tapes my parents had sitting on top of the TV for hours of continued entertainment. We eventually had an on-demand music video catalog. Everything from Rick Astley to ZZ Top was recorded. If we liked it, we hit the red button on the remote. Yes, I'm responsible for Rick Astley. I told you you would laugh, did I not? As the years went on I got into a lot more Pop music than you could probably shake a stick at. I stayed away from the mall-rat scene and stuck with the good stuff of course. Even at 10 I was a bit of a snob and had somewhat of a taste. Except for Rick. I totally understand Dennis' (It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia) obsession with the song. And yes I bought the cassette single for the it too. Sigh.

"The Sign" - Ace Of Base

It's confession time, folks. Before the onslaught of grunge I was stuck in a bit of a Pop wormhole that I couldn't get out of. I blame the radio for this because it even took time for the airwaves to catch on to the insurgence of Alternative bands. Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Stone Temple Pilots...they didn't exist yet in my world. My corner of the audioverse had room for only one band(?) and they were called Ace Of Base. I'll let that sink in for a bit.

Caught your breath yet? Great. I'm sure my 15 year old self was able to hear your laugh even from this great space/time difference, jerk. Okay, so I'm kind of laughing too (while I also listen to the entire album over again). It's terrible. Like, really terrible. Why did I like it so much? As I ponder this quandary I can only come up with one solution - The female vocals. I'm drawn to them. As my musical taste expanded with Alternative bands I realized that I liked the stuff sung by women more than men. This opened the door to Tori Amos, who is still one of my favorite musicians of all time. Sure, I was made fun of. But then being the music junkie I was I would just retort with "Maynard James Keenan likes Joni Mitchell, so fuck off!" Needless to say that did not ward off my verbal attackers.

But I mean, come on. You can't help but bop your shoulders to the beat. Yes, it's bad, and I eventually wised up and started listening to what all the other kids in my classes were listening to. I bought Siamese Dream from Smashing Pumpkins and never looked back. I even remember asking a friend of mine if buying that album would make me "cool." She said yes. So I went with it. Ace Of Base was left to collect dust on my CD rack and was finally traded in for better CDs. Still, I admit it helped shape my musical preferences of present day. It may be why I like Lady Gaga. That's okay, right?

"Bleed" - Soulfly

It wasn't until well after high school that I would get into Heavy Metal. My previous and only experience with the genre was Metallica's Black Album and really nothing else. I remember riding the bus in high school and someone gave a Megadeth tape to the driver to play. I immediately put on my headphones, turned the volume up on my portable CD player, sank into my seat, and listened to Boys For Pele.

During the ages of 20 and 21 I reconnected with an old friend from high school who was starting a band. They were playing covers. Some Alice In Chains, Corrosion Of Conformity, and Faith No More were on the set list. I knew some of it and I tried out to be the singer and got the job. That lasted a whole two days I think. They found someone better who wound up being someone worse. I was still involved in the band though and learned how to run sound and hook up the PA. As time went on the cover band turned into a real band with original songs and I was asked to join again to play keyboards/synth and run samples. But before all of that occurred I had to be schooled in the ways of Metal.

My friend took me to the record store and made me buy Pantera's live album, something else I can't remember, and Soulfly's first album, Soulfly. I was familiar with Sepultura and had listened to Roots several times while hanging out with friends. It never sunk in though. It wasn't until I listened to Soulfly, Max Cavalera's band after he split from Sepultura, that made me want to like heavier music. It also made me want to get their logo tattooed on my upper right arm. A decision that haunts me to this day no thanks to my friends that like to exploit it at parties for a cheap laugh. I also do weddings.

As with Ace Of Base, I am also giving Soulfly another listen for the purpose of writing this post. I completely forgot that the song "Bleed" has Fred Durst in it for a verse. I feel sick now. I want to go back in time and stop 20 year old Nick from getting the tattoo. It would save him the grief and the hours of wasted time trying to come up with something to cover it up. It would also save a lot of bedroom time with a lady trying to explain the damn thing.

"Ew. What's that on your arm?"
"It's a Soulfly tattoo. Just don't look at it."
"Um, I gotta go."

"Roulette Dares (The Haunt Of)" - The Mars Volta

We're almost there. We're almost to present day. We're at 25. This is where it all really started. I got so tired of listening to the television or the radio for what I was supposed to listen to. I wasn't a kid anymore. I wasn't going to put up with watered down, record company endorsed, shit stains. Life was pretty much in the crapper too. I was a new dad and I had no idea how to be one except that I didn't want to be my dad. Also, my relationship with the baby's momma was on shaky ground and would eventually dissolve. I needed music to save me, but unfortunately all of the old artists couldn't help with my dilemmas. I needed new blood so I went hunting.

I remembered seeing a video from a band I had never heard before called At The Drive-In. The song was "One Armed Scissor" and I'm sure most of you true believers out there are familiar with it. I remember it being like nothing I had ever heard before and came to the conclusion that this is what I needed to help me press on in life. I asked a co-worker who I knew listened to what he called "indie" music for all of At The Drive-In's albums. He brought them to me and I listened and digested them. After doing some research and seeing that they had broken up, started a new band, and released their debut album I immediately went to the record store to buy it. I didn't think about illegally downloading the album at the time. I don't know why really. I guess because I needed something tangible in my hand. Something to touch and hold on to and shove into the CD player in my 2001 Chevy S10 when I needed it to be there. It was Deloused In The Comatorium that sent me on the adventure into not only independent artists, but also the artists that influenced them. I'm guessing this is how in the future a computer may feel when it becomes self-aware.

The years of 25-30 had a lot of hardships, break-ups, court dates, and songs to get me through it all. It was this period in my life when music became one of the most important things. It saved me like it also saved Rob in High Fidelity. Music saves, but it'll also destroy. And to be honest, a little destruction never hurt anybody.

By the way, I have pages you can follow. You can find 5 Songs In A Row on Facebook and Twitter now. You know, if you're into that sort of thing.

#4:20

Funnel


"Is this a---what day is this?" -The Dude

Any writer will tell you that one of the biggest fears about writing is staring at a blank piece of paper. Or in my case an empty screen. I forgot where I was going with this.

So today is 4/20 and I just did my civic duty of making at least one joke about it. Now I can move on and never mention that this day, while full of harbingers of death (Hitler's birthday. The Gulf oil spill. Dudes in trench coats playing a live-action version of DOOM inside their school.), it is also the national holiday for pot smokers everywhere to have an excuse to do what they probably did yesterday - smoke more pot. I'm not judging, just merely stating the obvious because I'm sure as I write this most of my friends have already sparked a J at some point today and I'm jealous. All I've done is sit in Anatomy class and look at vaginas and penises all morning. Relax, we're studying the Reproductive System right now. Besides I've been close to these models since the first day of the semester. There was no other way to get all the giggling out of the way.

I'm testing myself right now because I just remembered why I started talking about writer's block. I've been suffering from it off and on for the past few months. I'll get a stroke of luck and be able to write paragraphs and paragraphs of pure brilliance. And then go through a dry spell and realize that just typing the word the is enough to make me run away from my computer in extreme terror. The only advice I've been able to follow is something a mentor of mine told me when I asked him what he did when he had writer's block.

"Simple. You write through it."
"That's it?"
"That's it. Just start writing and don't stop. Even if it doesn't make sense - don't stop."

That's what I'm doing right now; Writing and not worrying about what I might say. The filters are off, which could end badly, but who cares? How many people read this thing by choice anyway? I usually have to bug people to read when it goes up, which I always feel bad about doing. If people want to read it's their decision. I'm done censoring myself for the sake of who might read what I have to say. Hell, it might even make it more enjoyable. Like that poop you took the other day while still on the clock at work. Or pulling a pesky chest hair from your neck. Maybe those are just things I enjoy.

"Exile Vilify" - The National

God damn you Matt Beringer. Seriously, why do you have to write songs that relate to so many males aged 25-35 and their problems? If I didn't know any better, Matt, I'd just go back to listening to Aaron Lewis complain about his life. Which, I'm guessing, is far more brutal than yours. I mean come on. Look at the amount of criticism the guy takes on a daily basis from people like you and I. We may not judge the content of a person's character by the color of their skin, but I'll bet you buttons to biscuits that we'll judge someone by what music they listen to. It's a bad personality trait to have, it's true. And obviously not one I'm proud of, and I'm working on it, really. But I just can't help but cross-reference a person's visual IQ to the music he/she probably listens to. I say visual IQ because where I live the meth look is always en vogue so chances are a good portion of the population here does not listen to The National or even know who they are. Their tooth loss.

This song from the king of brooders was written and recorded for the video game Portal 2 which I probably will never play. Video games and I have a distant relative kind of relationship in that we only see each other a few times a year and maybe when someone dies. But since this is 4/20 and pot smoking and video games are synonymous to, well, pot smoking and video games, I'm willing to give it a try. Now all I need to do is find someone with the game, get out of work, drive to their house, eat their food, drink their beer...fuck it, nevermind. No wonder most spot smokers have the edge on laziness. Some of the actions involved are way too movement driven which is why I'm surprised smokers haven't invented more remote controlled objects. I'm getting off topic here and I'm not even high. I think just being awake during 4/20 gives you a contact buzz similar to watching James Franco host the Emmy's.

Raw. Visceral. Another power word used to describe a new song, book, or movie. "Exile Vilify" doesn't sound like it belongs in a video game. It sounds like it should have been on High Violet to replace one of the other crappier songs. I'm looking at you "Runaway." Honestly, I can't really sweat The National's balls too much. They make great music. Music that I wish the people living off Fish Hatchery Road would discover. Yes, that is a real name for a road here. This one's for you guys. It's also for my friends. Because lately I feel like I'm living somewhere in obscurity off Fish Hatchery Road.

"Patriarch On A Vespa" - Metric

I was rudely interrupted for a while by my Ethics professor and his ability to make me and my fellow classmates feel like imbeciles. We're currently on the topic of feminism, and while his views are poignant and on track with how the world should be treating women and men, it becomes difficult to speak out against patriarchy and the power over an individual when the professor treats his students as second-class. I understand that there is a teacher/student rapport, but some of his comments to me and to others on the discussion boards are deplorable. I empathize with his beliefs, but he needs to recognize that he's not going to sway a demographic that is mostly white, middle-class, and monotheistic to his side when acting like an Ivy League snob. I'm not saying he needs to dumb himself down, but he could certainly make his rebuttals a bit more polished and respectful and not so fuck knuckle-ish.

Discussing patriarchy made me think of this song which is a nice little battle cry against fitting into the cookie-cutter kind of life most men expect of women. In fact most of Live It Out is about Emily Haines' falling into the typical expectations of women the world seems to have in store for her. I've been a big fan of Haines' music for a while now. Her solo album Knives Don't Have Your Back is a favorite of mine. I might have actually included a song from that album on 5SIAR at some point. I don't know -- I can't remember right now. If you're following along that was another pot joke.

I'm a dude and even I have a fear of comparison shopping. I must admit that I tried the typical American lifestyle on for a while. A wife (Girlfriend that hated me), a steady, good-paying job (Still here. And define: good-paying), children (Chips off the old smartass block. So proud of them!). And just like an American Apparel t-shirt it was cut a bit too small for my liking. That could also be because I weighed 180 lbs. and even a size L shirt was snug on me. I'm happy to say that I'm now a happier person because of a few things I've learned and changed within the past years, months, weeks, and days. I'm still learning actually because no one should ever stop in the first place. This is why we still have the same kind of shitty problems everyone complains about yet does nothing to make it better. For instance, the lack of equality amongst the races and sexes. The abundance of childhood obesity. Or the inability to find a deli that makes a good pastrami sandwich.

"Weed Song" - Bone Thugs -N- Harmony

It's 10:00PM and I may not be able to get this post done and posted before my midnight deadline. It's a 420 post so it'll be really awkward if I post it tomorrow. Maybe I'll just hold off on this one till Christmas. Then everyone will surely be lost! It'll be like a pot flashback. Do those exist? Do people get so high that once they come down something will trigger them to get high again later on? And if so do they crave the same kinds of food? I can't imagine a former pot smoker turned family man out to dinner with his wife and kids at Chili's and suddenly ordering a bottomless brownie sundae as his main course and the mozzarella sticks for dessert. Actually, yes I can.

What's a post about 420 on 4/20 without one song referencing smoking mary jane? Just so you know I felt very white typing "mary jane" just now. Is that capitalized?

I know I could've chosen a better song about pot. Are there better songs about pot? I feel like that isn't possible unless the name of the song doesn't reference pot in any way and the name of your band is Animal Collective. Speaking of bands with trippy album covers, what's up with this one? The skull is just being creepy by hiding behind those cannabis plants. And if you stare deep into it's eyes you can see a Kanye West meme stare back at you. But seriously, Bone has written and recorded enough songs about smoking out to warrant a greatest hits? Cypress Hill didn't even do that. Well, I guess they really didn't have to considering their entire back catalog references MARY JANE in some way or another.

I have one hour left to write about two more songs. And go.

"Pacing Around The Church" - Cold Cave

I'm eating crow at this very moment. I originally wrote this album off very early. Then I found out one of my favorite producers was involved in the making of it - Chris Coady. He produced Teen Dream from Beach House, so maybe giving it another try and a deeper listen wasn't such a bad idea. That and my friend Aaron would've given me shit if I put a song from this album on my year end mix without previously stating I liked it in some way. That's how I squeaked in a Health song from my 2009 mix. I like Health now and to be honest I would've given me shit too. And yes I think too much about this kind of stuff. There are rules to mixtape/CD making, right? Rules that must be followed to some extent. Someone back me up on this.

This album has been on constant rotation. I admit I am quick to judge something new. It could be because I expose myself to too much new music at one time...Shit, it's 11:21!

"Courtship Dating" - Crystal Castles

The only things you need to know about this song is that I listen to it a lot and I'm running out of time to post this blog on 4/20. So much for having enough time to write without stopping and without a filter! That proved to be kind of impossible considering I'm at work and doing schoolwork at the same time. I make a great employee.

This song is a boner jam. Whatever that really is. What is anything?

I'll leave you with that.

Goodnight.