Fact

I'm kind of all about PDA and for once I'm hyped on Valentine's day.

Sometimes I Wonder Can I Really Call This Place... Or Should I Find Another Name

So by a certain amount of luck (I guess) Sartaj and I got to go to the sardine-packed Titus Andronicus show at Swarthmore last night. First, wow, were the guys running the show douchebags. We didn't get let in until 9:25 and they spent the 50 minutes they kept us waiting make fun of all the people that couldn't get into the show. Thankfully, this was the only low point of the night. For one, the Olde Club is an amazing place to see a show, holy shit. It's a small, stone building that on the inside is kinda like a cabin; all hardwood floors and low-lights. There's a balcony, basement (complete with the free beer you expect at a tri-co show) and the main floor with a decent size stage and great sound for an underground venue. And it's cramped. Like, impossible to go two steps without stepping on someone's foot or bumping into a shoulder. Titus went on eventually and opened with "Joset of Nazareth Blues" and "My Time Outside The Womb" which had Sartaj and I jumping up and down... alone. Thankfully, this didn't keep up and by the end of "Womb" there was a mess of familiar faces from past TA shows falling all over each other and stage diving. In the middle of their set, they started playing some new stuff for their new record which, get this, is apparently a concept album about the Civil War. You know what, though? It worked really really well. The first tune was just Patrick and Andrew and had a countryish/Dylan feel and that segued into three progressively more rocking numbers. The intensity is still there, for sure... Can't wait to hear the lyrics. Their set, fucking unfortunately, was truncated so as to allow the increasingly more and more ridiclous Los Campesinos! time to set up and play before midnight but I could have cared less, really, no matter how much I love their records. Their, admittedly fucking AWESOME, t-shirts were TWENTY DOLLARS. I'll just wait to catch them at the TLA at the end of March. Sartaj and I left after I snagged four (or five? or six?) more beers and a little chat with Ian, Titus' bassist. They can't play the Philly show with Lucero but they're trying to come out for a one-off headlining show shortly thereafter. Basement, Please???? "This band is going to play basements and shows like this until it's all over." Good to know.

Andrew Cedermark is the nicest guy in the fucking universe. Titus took the stage and he noticed me up front, shook my hand. He has some great solo material. His voice almost reminds me of Richard Thompson... and some other stuff that's on the tip of my tongue but it just slips my mind! CHECK IT OUT HERE.
I woke up at 7 for my 8:40 and threw this on... so good.

Busy weekend: home tonight for Gabby's party (or do I want to see Everyone Everywhere? Got free tix. Or Breakfast and Dessert House? Saw those dudes at the show, so fun. HM...,), Ben Folds tomorrow night with D. (YEAH VALENTINE'S DAY WHATEVER WHY DON'T YOU JUST GET OVER IT,) and I'm really excited for that because as long as I've loved Ben Folds/Ben Folds Five and as many times as he's come through here I haven't been able to see him, then Failures Sunday at Kung Fu Necktie. I've only heard like, four Charles Bronson songs but they were fucking awesome and Orchid used to be one of my favorites eighth grade/freshman year when I was a straight Screamo snob. Should be a solid weekend.

Off to J and H... I think I'm addicted to their lemonade.

A FALSE SENSE OF SPRING

Is this global warming? For the last three to four years without fail we have had warm spells in January and February. If it's the dreaded meltdown, I really don't care. These days, um, no homo, inspire me. Or something like that. Ok they inspire me in this way:
I left my room at 4:30 this morning to go bang out a paper last minute for Mosaic. It was fucking Florida warm when I left the building and I took off my sweater. When I got to the TECH center, I was mostly productive, but also a Twitter fiend. I can't get enough of this Twitter thing. So all day I'm twittering about this awesome fucking weather. I get through Mosaic. Bailed on history lecture cos Sartaj's housing deposit went through and we (Brandon, Matt, Sartaj and I) had to get TT 208 E on lockdown. Got that. Fucking got it so hard. Got it so hard that the only person in the room, the stranger we're going to be living with next year, a Miguel Vaca, shook. I know this. I'm excited for my "experiment in diversity" living situation next year. I'm so past my 93% white high school.

Then I sat at my computer relieved and waiting for Wyatt to wake up so he could help me study for Bionic Human. He wasn't having it so I threw on my purple "pre-gaming for springtime" polo and headed out into the world (which was bright.) Wandered (as much as you can wander around Temple's campus anyway) and eventually settled on that big flat expanse above Anderson and Gladfelter lecture halls. Had to move though, wanted to meet my GF! So I waited by the bell tower on the beach next to some dumb ass fucking broad in a frock and leggings and big shades reading Kerouac and smoking. You're not hot. Anyway, I read the January issue of Outside that featured Lance Armstrong on the cover. Shit was hot. D. finally showed up and I was so fucking happy because the sun brought out all her freckles and I realized that if anyone belongs in the sun out there on the beach by the bell tower then it was definitely her and maybe myself. Us together.

OK no homo but those last sentences are pretty much the reason behind this entry.
So let's take a break from the corny real quick:
Everyone Everywhere is cracking me up on WKDU right now
Miles and I fixed gear frenzy Spring Break 09

D. left me on the grass next to Michele. I tried to read and listen to the Pains of Being Pure at Heart with her but I fell the fuck into a deep sleep and woke up an hour or so later PISSED because: Michele was gone and this somehow made me really mad, the two upperclasmen pseudo intellectuals talking about the meaning of life were STILL smoking cigs and wearing sunglasses under my tree, the sweatshirt I was laying on had become SOGGY and I could barely lift my head up. I got a Red Bull and found Mike V at Anderson Gladfelter tunnel. We talked about music and twitter and Mike was my hero as usual. Actually, Mike, I don't really worship you like I imply, but every time we hang out it's just like "Dude, Mike V is awesome." D. found me again and we sat on a concrete wall, still enjoying the weather, getting bothered by something in the air, found a secret passageway, walked me to the Bionic Human. I nailed that test. Continued with my outdoor life with Linz. Then D. again. We were last seen making out in front of Beury, talking about what. An awesome. Day. It was.

TWEE BUMMER

Ugh dude I've been all over The Pains of Being Pure at Heart since like, November when I saw a pic of their E.P. on the Titus Andronicus Flickr. I pirated a leak of their full-length and got down to it all through Christmas break. It's fucking awesome. I guess for one thing they're not very subtle. They're obviously going for the whole early-90s British/Twee thing. Their album cover totally apes Belle and Sebastian, their distorted but shimmery guitars are totally Jesus and Mary Chain and the cooing male/female vocals remind me of some My Bloody Valentine. I have no problem with these things however and neither should you. They make me smile real big.

"but come saturday, you'll come to stay
you'll come to sway in my arms
who cares if there's a party somewhere
we're gonna stay in

come saturday, you'll come to say
maybe there's no harm
in a wasted summer with no drama,
we're gonna stay in"
-"Come Saturday"

They just got best new music'ed today. No big deal. Just wish I wrote about them sooner so I didn't seem like some bandwagon newb. They're playing Kung Fu Necktie sometime soon. 21+ NO HOMO UGH. They might be 09's jollier answer to the aforementioned Titus Andronicus.


Um, this is the wrong cover but whatever. Snag this record quick before they become another hipster commodity.

In other news, tonight I spent a solid hour and twenty minutes watching Septa Rail Fan videos on Youtube. The one I was most stoked about was this:

It's the El from 40th Street Station to the 69th Street Terminal. I've only ever been as far as 46th but I yearrrrrnnnn to go all the way with the MFL man seriously. I had this dream where I went to Millbourne. It was an amazing community with tidy houses and a delightfully suburban grid layout. This probably isn't the case as it's wedged between kinda-scary-Westernmost-Philadelphia and seen-better-days-Upper Darby but the point is I dream of these things. Also, I got really excited when Danielle called it the El and not the MFL/Blue Line/Subway.

Chester County SEPTA cool kids, doesn't this bum you out?

"Until September 19, 1986, commuter service on the line continued past Elwyn to West Chester. In fact, the line itself is still known in official documentation as the West Chester Line. Major rehabilitation was needed on the line, and SEPTA had limited funds for the necessary repairs. In addition, Chester County was more interested in expanding the Exton Station on SEPTA's R5 Paoli/Downingtown line. SEPTA only had funds for one of the two projects, so R3 service to West Chester was terminated in favor of expanded R5 service."

From the R3 Wikipedia article. I hope they go through with the proposed extension to Wawa. No more dreaded Granite Run Mall traffic for John to fret about in the back seat as I speed to catch a train.

Strawberry Burns

Art Alexakis might be the most underrated 90s holdover/human being still alive:

But he sure is appreciated.