Okay, so it’s come to my attention that I’ve been ignoring this place a little lately. And by “a little”, I mean “completely”, and by “lately”, I mean since before Christmas, with the small yet meaningful (although entirely ineffectual, sadly) exception of adding some Conan O’Brien propaganda to the banner up there. What a guy.
So, in the interest of posterity, here’s what I’ve been doing lately.
First: New Wordythinks podcast! This time, myself and David “Coyote Trax” Kirk tackle the topics of webcomics and music almost simultaneously. It’s a wonderfully muddled affair, and worth listening to just to hear us giving a running commentary on a really bad comic strip. So get your RSS feed here, your iTunes feed here, and your empeethree file here.
Second: my review of pseudo-goths Nite Nite’s album How To Touch The Moon went up at ZME about two months back to little or no reaction. It read a little bit like this in places.
The fifth most important thing for a music cricket is being honest with the readers. (Sixth is being honest with yourself, and admitting you have no readers.) So, in the spirit of honesty, allow me to divulge the following: I’m not a “goth”. Never have been. I’ve never known a goth, nor have I stroked a goth’s hair or thighs. I don’t get goth – do you see? In fact, the closest I’ve come to being or stroking a goth was observing a crowd of the creatures assembled in a park near a tree, until a police officer told them to stop loitering or something, and they scattered like so many disaffected crows, and then I pottered away to a country music gig. True story.
Ogle it here.
Third: I also review Libby Johnson’s Perfect View, which was perfectly lovely. On that topic, I rambled thusly:
It might take a few goes of it before you’ll be thoroughly convinced of that, though. It certainly won’t have grabbed you straight off, since the opening track – the titular “Perfect View” – seems pretty, but pretty forgettable. That is, until you find yourself at work over the next week, humming the sweet, gentle melody to yourself as you laboriously attach price stickers to children’s shoes like the good little worker drone that you are even if nobody ever shows any appreciation for it and anyway what do I care I hate this job.
Full thing is here.
Fourth: Amber Rubarth is a fantastic thing, as is her album Good Mystery. I enthused like this:
Good Mystery is, to put it in terms you “kids” of “today” might understand, music that’d probably fit right in on Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist, pitched somewhere between the Moldy Peaches and Rilo Kiley – a sort of “Juno Lewis”. (Eagle-eyed readers will notice that that’s the second Jenny Lewis reference in as many reviews. I’m not even that big a fan, she’s just an easy touchpoint. [That sounded rude.])
And the rest is here.
Fifth: I was sadly disappointed by Uniform Motion’s second album. I coped by avoiding talking about the record for as long possible. Observe:
Perhaps it’s on this poorly-fleshed out, though thoroughly unassailable, basis that I so enthusiastically rallied around the Uniform Motion banner late last year. Their press release described them in the most absurd, preposterous terms possible – “a perpetual multimedia art installation” – which is precisely one step removed from labelling them “an Austrian collective of matchstick sculptors-cum-operatic xylophonists.” Sensing an opportunity to dig some conspicuously word-shaped boots into their soft, spongy craniums, I duly investigated, only to discover that Uniform Motion, in fact, consists of a perfectly nice indie folk singing man, and also a man who draws (and this is why the intro exists, good people) cartoons!
And the full kicking resides here.
And finally, I’ve been spending much of the last 48 hours watching the first series of aged-but-fantastic sitcom The Norm Show on them there Youtubes. Go watch it, and cry yourself to sleep as you realise Norm MacDonald will probably never get another comedy vehicle on TV. For shame.