Often, I have all of these little nicks on my hands and fingers and I wonder where they're from until I start picking at them. They get worse, they begin to sting, they bleed and I am left wishing I didn't fuck with my dry, cut up dishwasher's hands to begin with.
Tonight, Miles popped my cherry. And by that I mean he took me to Two Cousins to get a cheesesteak which is something that I've never done. Not the cheeseteak part, had plenty of those. The Two Cousins bit. Since the halcyon Sam and Henry days I've heard about this steak (that it was good, the best maybe) but I never made the journey. I was feeling a total lack of Miles this weekend so we made a date for this afternoon; Two Cousins cheesesteak, Wawa milkshake, scope out the new Hockessin library... you know, dude stuff. Ha!
I've been telling everyone about this song/video. Maybe you know it already, maybe you don't. Dirty Projectors got a lot of press last year for their new record Rise Above, a song by song cover of Black Flag's Damaged re-done from memory in a less hardcore persuasion. I didn't bother to check it out until I went on Pitchfork.tv two days ago and this video immediately started playing:
Dirty Projectors-"Rise Above" (live in some trendster's loft)
It's cool to hear the lyrics in an entirely different context. They take on a whole new set of idealogical problems. Plus, this dude's singing is really, stirringly emotive.
My dad won't stop cooking salmon. It reminds me of mud. Your thoughts?
Finally on a weirder note, I notice every year that girls really bloom in the spring. It's definitely a season that compliments them them. Maybe it's an internal thing where I'm getting restless and looking at them more or maybe they really do pull out all stops in temperatures in the upper-60s; regardless, all of you ladies are incredibly awesome humans in all sorts of ways so be very, very proud.
P.S. I'm still on this massive, seemingly incurable and constant Sleater-Kinney kick. Any suggestions?
27.4.08
Four Seconds Was The Longest Wait
So I went back in time and I'm listening to the first Sleater-Kinney album (self-titled) in my room the spring of eighth grade year. I'm going to see them in a few days. My room isn't as cluttered and there are no big chairs; just a bed, that mirror chair thing, some bookshelves, ye olde hi-fi (my all-in-one record player/tape/radio band/three CD changer). Also, I'm having a house show (this!) Friday... The New Tyrants (we changed our name), If This Ends and what is sure to be a wildass all-star band playing a surprise partay cover. I think a lot of people are coming out (I have this weird, newfound popularity) so that's cool and leads me to my next point. Dating Caitlin has been really fun. Totally different from the usual (Aubrey, Evyn, Alysha etcetera).
Here are some cool Sleater-Kinney lyrics. Self-titled is really underrated by the way, but One Beat remains one of my favorite albums ever and it's the best thing they've ever put out... pick it up.
"Don't you know I saw you go/On that day?/Running for my life/I'm running from those eyes/And if it feels that way..."
-"Slow Song"
Dude I love this band. Like I said, Caitlin's great, but sometimes I wish Carrie Brownstein was my girlfriend. I'd take Corin too.
Just kidding! But wasn't that crazy? Remember those times?
Right now seems kinda like a throwback to then because: I can't stop listening to Sleater-Kinney, I'm having a house show May 10, I have band, just got a new record player (an actual hi-fi this time, actually: Ion record player, Sony receiver/radio band, Panasonic CD player), I have no girlfriend but that doesn't stop me from hanging out with lots of like, people from Kennett (who I might add are the BEST KINDS OF PEOPLE). For example: Prom night was really fun even though it wasn't a soon-to-be-adapted-into-a-movie gorefest. I think the Kennett crowd has something that other crowds lack and that is in a word, maybe, unity. That's a feeling I get nowhere else (and cheesily enough, belonging; like, I feel like I belong at KHS events). What would this be without a photoverload? Please, humor me. Here's what it looked like:
That's my date MJ and I talking about movies or something.
Kelly's toast to alternative youth!
Mid-bite! So embarassing but MJ still looks good in my opinion.
I found that in my coat pocket.
Two freshest
Give me your best Serena face.
A very good man indeed: Kyle Kogut.
Sarah Aument is cool and has always been cool and looked and danced great Friday night.
I crept around these two all night but they loved it.
I like these two.
Ha!
Strange faces?
Will and I have this ritual at dances where we attract a crowd with our absolutely out of control daring and dare I say revolutionary style of moving.
One more time!
Like I might have said, MJ is really neat.
So's Sarah.
This makes me think of prohibition-era booze houses.
I love the look on my face.
Favorite photo from the whole night. For those not in the know, that's Mark and Mimi.
Rest.
What's going on here?
Sam Frank. He, Skippy and I all shared one life between seventh and eighth grade.
The parting of the ways.
Julian Rose made me love hip-hop! He burned me College Dropout for my birthday in eighth grade and I've been a white-ass Kanye fanboy ever since.
Goodbye Sarah, you cool person (she makes great music).
The saltiest urchins! On the right we have Gab P whom you may remember...
Observe: Middle age Swedish male attempting to bite his wife.
Aw. Is this love?
Cam loves an emu I mean an Emma.
lagggghhhh droooooool
Victory!
Timeline: return home from work, updated blog. Got ready when people started arrive at my house. Left (The Lemonheads-It's a Shame About Ray). Milled about saying hello to people I haven't seen in some time. Ate dinner. Prom dancing. 100% enjoyment (maybe too much? I don't know, you tell me). Drive home (on Cossart no less. Cut Copy-In Ghost Colours, Beggars Banquet). Hang out, catch up with mom and dad. A walk to the end of the street turns into (get this) a Walk to Wawa (caps neccesary. Est two miles). After that another parting: Robert and Mimi and Kara walk right back home while we (Emma, Cam, Kelly, Trey, Caitlin and I) walk up Route One to Greenwood Elementary, then, through Baneswood, then, back home (Est 3.5 miles). Yes, I love the spirit of adventure. Night wraps up with awesome chatter in the garage tent (The Kinks-Are the Village Green Preservation Society).
Rest of the weekend didn't compare but last night Anna and I watched 10 Things and it ruled.
So: youthful exuberance+good music+even better people+seeing people again+moving back into other people's circles etc...=sufficiently seizing the day and I love you goodnight.
Here are some cool Sleater-Kinney lyrics. Self-titled is really underrated by the way, but One Beat remains one of my favorite albums ever and it's the best thing they've ever put out... pick it up.
"Don't you know I saw you go/On that day?/Running for my life/I'm running from those eyes/And if it feels that way..."
-"Slow Song"
Dude I love this band. Like I said, Caitlin's great, but sometimes I wish Carrie Brownstein was my girlfriend. I'd take Corin too.
Just kidding! But wasn't that crazy? Remember those times?
Right now seems kinda like a throwback to then because: I can't stop listening to Sleater-Kinney, I'm having a house show May 10, I have band, just got a new record player (an actual hi-fi this time, actually: Ion record player, Sony receiver/radio band, Panasonic CD player), I have no girlfriend but that doesn't stop me from hanging out with lots of like, people from Kennett (who I might add are the BEST KINDS OF PEOPLE). For example: Prom night was really fun even though it wasn't a soon-to-be-adapted-into-a-movie gorefest. I think the Kennett crowd has something that other crowds lack and that is in a word, maybe, unity. That's a feeling I get nowhere else (and cheesily enough, belonging; like, I feel like I belong at KHS events). What would this be without a photoverload? Please, humor me. Here's what it looked like:
That's my date MJ and I talking about movies or something.
Kelly's toast to alternative youth!
Mid-bite! So embarassing but MJ still looks good in my opinion.
I found that in my coat pocket.
Two freshest
Give me your best Serena face.
A very good man indeed: Kyle Kogut.
Sarah Aument is cool and has always been cool and looked and danced great Friday night.
I crept around these two all night but they loved it.
I like these two.
Ha!
Strange faces?
Will and I have this ritual at dances where we attract a crowd with our absolutely out of control daring and dare I say revolutionary style of moving.
One more time!
Like I might have said, MJ is really neat.
So's Sarah.
This makes me think of prohibition-era booze houses.
I love the look on my face.
Favorite photo from the whole night. For those not in the know, that's Mark and Mimi.
Rest.
What's going on here?
Sam Frank. He, Skippy and I all shared one life between seventh and eighth grade.
The parting of the ways.
Julian Rose made me love hip-hop! He burned me College Dropout for my birthday in eighth grade and I've been a white-ass Kanye fanboy ever since.
Goodbye Sarah, you cool person (she makes great music).
The saltiest urchins! On the right we have Gab P whom you may remember...
Observe: Middle age Swedish male attempting to bite his wife.
Aw. Is this love?
Cam loves an emu I mean an Emma.
lagggghhhh droooooool
Victory!
Timeline: return home from work, updated blog. Got ready when people started arrive at my house. Left (The Lemonheads-It's a Shame About Ray). Milled about saying hello to people I haven't seen in some time. Ate dinner. Prom dancing. 100% enjoyment (maybe too much? I don't know, you tell me). Drive home (on Cossart no less. Cut Copy-In Ghost Colours, Beggars Banquet). Hang out, catch up with mom and dad. A walk to the end of the street turns into (get this) a Walk to Wawa (caps neccesary. Est two miles). After that another parting: Robert and Mimi and Kara walk right back home while we (Emma, Cam, Kelly, Trey, Caitlin and I) walk up Route One to Greenwood Elementary, then, through Baneswood, then, back home (Est 3.5 miles). Yes, I love the spirit of adventure. Night wraps up with awesome chatter in the garage tent (The Kinks-Are the Village Green Preservation Society).
Rest of the weekend didn't compare but last night Anna and I watched 10 Things and it ruled.
So: youthful exuberance+good music+even better people+seeing people again+moving back into other people's circles etc...=sufficiently seizing the day and I love you goodnight.
25.4.08
Perfect Picture of Bad Health
Tonight, I'm going to Kennett's prom. First of three because I guess that's just the kind of person I am. I hope something horrible happens so it just turns into some insane gorefest and some people (myself included) have to save the world and they make a horror movie about it; based on true events, of course.
For my birthday, I got a bike helmet. It doesn't make me look any cooler, but that wasn't the idea. In school, we got this presentation about the dangers of driving an automobile and they told me that cyclists were no different so wear a helmet! It scared me into it. I feel like it's a statement: I am aware of my own mortality.
For my birthday, I got a bike helmet. It doesn't make me look any cooler, but that wasn't the idea. In school, we got this presentation about the dangers of driving an automobile and they told me that cyclists were no different so wear a helmet! It scared me into it. I feel like it's a statement: I am aware of my own mortality.
23.4.08
An adress that you know
Life post later, but first a review:
Tokyo Police Club are young like us and they want us to know that we are welcome. Following several top-notch E.P.s and plenty of blog coverage that called them exactly that (top-notch, that is), their full-length debut exhibits a mature and unique sound without getting ahead of themselves or alienating the listener.
Their growth I should mention is only in the sonic sense; gone are the telephone microphones and the paranoid, almost spastic nature of their early work. The Club have been sufficiently Saddle-Creekified. Elephant Shell cuts the dung (heh heh) and leaves us with fiery Wire by way of Mates of State synth punk, streams of shoegaze guitars floating in the background and lots of feel-good upbeat rhythm leaving you feeling quite... good. Ushering you into this collegiate comfort zone where you can do anything (but are not obligated to do anything at all) are the awkward and sincere vocals of Dave Monk that easily could ellicit "aw"'s from more than just this listener. His lyrics share the same ability.
Opener "Centenial" begins: "This is skin/you can wrap all of your arms and legs in/an address that you know,"; small-town solidarity from your best friend freshman year you may have lost to a transfer or the hallway's shifting cliques. The people that populate these songs aren't cynics; they've never "heard of fiction...never heard of fact" as the song continues. Lacking any kind of jaded worldview, they are wholly committed to one another in times of loss (the aptly named "Graves") and never forget the days when they were "captains of submarines made of steel" on the playground growing up ("The Harrowing Adventures of..."). They're those people, the best friends you sometimes/somehow take for granted (and they, you), you forgive and forget and grow with until it's time to "toast the last of a dying breed" as they do on album closer "The Baskervilles."
Single "Your English is Good" (which originally appeared mid-2007) remains the best thing they have ever done. It's every adventure you wanted to take - part Goonies, part Sandlot, part October Sky - crammed, in typical Club fashion, into three minutes along with more edible stuff about best friends, telling the truth, driving around and the most propulsive and catchy synth line of the last two years that wasn't on a M.I.A. or Kanye West record.
If you are under the age of 21 and live in the suburbs, have dreamed and try to tell the truth, then this album should edge its way into your lifestyle. It's addictive like drugs but it doesn't cloud; it only serves to make clearer what you do, why you do it and what makes the connections you feel with friends, family and lovers so special.
Four and a half stars, whateverrrrrrrrrrrr
Tokyo Police Club are young like us and they want us to know that we are welcome. Following several top-notch E.P.s and plenty of blog coverage that called them exactly that (top-notch, that is), their full-length debut exhibits a mature and unique sound without getting ahead of themselves or alienating the listener.
Their growth I should mention is only in the sonic sense; gone are the telephone microphones and the paranoid, almost spastic nature of their early work. The Club have been sufficiently Saddle-Creekified. Elephant Shell cuts the dung (heh heh) and leaves us with fiery Wire by way of Mates of State synth punk, streams of shoegaze guitars floating in the background and lots of feel-good upbeat rhythm leaving you feeling quite... good. Ushering you into this collegiate comfort zone where you can do anything (but are not obligated to do anything at all) are the awkward and sincere vocals of Dave Monk that easily could ellicit "aw"'s from more than just this listener. His lyrics share the same ability.
Opener "Centenial" begins: "This is skin/you can wrap all of your arms and legs in/an address that you know,"; small-town solidarity from your best friend freshman year you may have lost to a transfer or the hallway's shifting cliques. The people that populate these songs aren't cynics; they've never "heard of fiction...never heard of fact" as the song continues. Lacking any kind of jaded worldview, they are wholly committed to one another in times of loss (the aptly named "Graves") and never forget the days when they were "captains of submarines made of steel" on the playground growing up ("The Harrowing Adventures of..."). They're those people, the best friends you sometimes/somehow take for granted (and they, you), you forgive and forget and grow with until it's time to "toast the last of a dying breed" as they do on album closer "The Baskervilles."
Single "Your English is Good" (which originally appeared mid-2007) remains the best thing they have ever done. It's every adventure you wanted to take - part Goonies, part Sandlot, part October Sky - crammed, in typical Club fashion, into three minutes along with more edible stuff about best friends, telling the truth, driving around and the most propulsive and catchy synth line of the last two years that wasn't on a M.I.A. or Kanye West record.
If you are under the age of 21 and live in the suburbs, have dreamed and try to tell the truth, then this album should edge its way into your lifestyle. It's addictive like drugs but it doesn't cloud; it only serves to make clearer what you do, why you do it and what makes the connections you feel with friends, family and lovers so special.
Four and a half stars, whateverrrrrrrrrrrr
20.4.08
Gut Wrenching Humans
Plenty of good lately, but first, the bad.
On Tuesday, I had to get a ride home with Schloz. It was a last minute thing so I didn't have time to ask beforehand, just had to run outside and hope he was still there in his maroon Trailblazer. Darted through the hall, outside and past the ultimate evils (sophomores waiting for mum and dad) - Schloz was backing out so I cut through a row of cars. Randy W. was putting his bag into the back of something red. There door was open, of course, and he was between it and the car. I nudged between Randoor and the car he parked next to, with my hand somewhere on the door for maintaining balance (I was squeezing. On tip toes.) Not a second after being free from this shitfuck, I am shoved by Randy. "What the fuck did you do to my car, bitch?" (laughing at utter ridiculousness) "Nothing..." (One or two more shoves). I quickly back myself into the back of Schloz's door. Schloz and Garrett are watching this situation with a mixture of excitement and confusion. "What was that all about?" "Not really sure... I guess I nudged past his car." Randy is a drug addict - some weird mix of OxyContin and Percocet. A few days later, he was pushing around some underclassmen on the stairwell for I don't know what reason. It was just kind of like wha? Why is this kid so mean?
Friday at lunch there was a similar wha moment. John Procope, soccer extraordinarie/guido/jacked moaf, was being followed by this underclassmen and was visibly pissed. They're exchanging words and Proc just gets in his face and starts saying "Do you know who I am? Do you know who I am? I'm John Procope!" Enough said?
The weeks end and end over and over again and like, we continue inching toward the end of high school. I cannot wait for the summer. It's going to be completely full. Just full. And I'm realizing college won't be too different either; Anna will be across town and most of my other friends will be around Philadelphia or around home - a mere fifty minutes. I think I'm actually going to do things: zines, shows, networking, writing, writing, writing, photos. More opportunities, better facilities, wonderful people.
Birthday was normal. What was better were like, the truly interesting gifts I got: Ion record player/stereo receiver, a floppy hat, a bike helmet (side-note: Wednesday, we had a pretty horrifying presentation about the consequences of car accidents. It wasn't anything new for me and it wasn't like the general population of dumb fucks at my school decided to learn anything for once either. But they talked about how cyclists aren't exempt and so I decided I wasn't going to bike to work that day or until I got a helmet. And I got one. And I look like a retard but I feel much, much safer and much less cool), a comfortable t-shirt, a poster-size photgraph of Rihanna in her underwear (ANNA - THX) ten issues of the Believer and four books from McSweeney's. Such good shit! So lately (and the cause behind lack of updates/general internet presence) I've been sitting on the floor of my room reading and listening to records. Let's just say it's been fucking awesome. It was national record store day and I bought a lot of vinyl:
Tokyo Police club-Elephant Shell
the Black Keys-The Big Come Up
Neil Young-Tonight's the Night
Arcade Fire-No Cars Go b/w Surf City Eastern Bloc
Robert Pollard-Superman was a Rocker
Belle and Sebastian-Tigermilk
Sleater Kinney-One Beat
(the last two i already own but they must sound sooo good on wax, right?)
I'm gonna put more effort into this thing this week!
I love T.V. Dinner and you.
On Tuesday, I had to get a ride home with Schloz. It was a last minute thing so I didn't have time to ask beforehand, just had to run outside and hope he was still there in his maroon Trailblazer. Darted through the hall, outside and past the ultimate evils (sophomores waiting for mum and dad) - Schloz was backing out so I cut through a row of cars. Randy W. was putting his bag into the back of something red. There door was open, of course, and he was between it and the car. I nudged between Randoor and the car he parked next to, with my hand somewhere on the door for maintaining balance (I was squeezing. On tip toes.) Not a second after being free from this shitfuck, I am shoved by Randy. "What the fuck did you do to my car, bitch?" (laughing at utter ridiculousness) "Nothing..." (One or two more shoves). I quickly back myself into the back of Schloz's door. Schloz and Garrett are watching this situation with a mixture of excitement and confusion. "What was that all about?" "Not really sure... I guess I nudged past his car." Randy is a drug addict - some weird mix of OxyContin and Percocet. A few days later, he was pushing around some underclassmen on the stairwell for I don't know what reason. It was just kind of like wha? Why is this kid so mean?
Friday at lunch there was a similar wha moment. John Procope, soccer extraordinarie/guido/jacked moaf, was being followed by this underclassmen and was visibly pissed. They're exchanging words and Proc just gets in his face and starts saying "Do you know who I am? Do you know who I am? I'm John Procope!" Enough said?
The weeks end and end over and over again and like, we continue inching toward the end of high school. I cannot wait for the summer. It's going to be completely full. Just full. And I'm realizing college won't be too different either; Anna will be across town and most of my other friends will be around Philadelphia or around home - a mere fifty minutes. I think I'm actually going to do things: zines, shows, networking, writing, writing, writing, photos. More opportunities, better facilities, wonderful people.
Birthday was normal. What was better were like, the truly interesting gifts I got: Ion record player/stereo receiver, a floppy hat, a bike helmet (side-note: Wednesday, we had a pretty horrifying presentation about the consequences of car accidents. It wasn't anything new for me and it wasn't like the general population of dumb fucks at my school decided to learn anything for once either. But they talked about how cyclists aren't exempt and so I decided I wasn't going to bike to work that day or until I got a helmet. And I got one. And I look like a retard but I feel much, much safer and much less cool), a comfortable t-shirt, a poster-size photgraph of Rihanna in her underwear (ANNA - THX) ten issues of the Believer and four books from McSweeney's. Such good shit! So lately (and the cause behind lack of updates/general internet presence) I've been sitting on the floor of my room reading and listening to records. Let's just say it's been fucking awesome. It was national record store day and I bought a lot of vinyl:
Tokyo Police club-Elephant Shell
the Black Keys-The Big Come Up
Neil Young-Tonight's the Night
Arcade Fire-No Cars Go b/w Surf City Eastern Bloc
Robert Pollard-Superman was a Rocker
Belle and Sebastian-Tigermilk
Sleater Kinney-One Beat
(the last two i already own but they must sound sooo good on wax, right?)
I'm gonna put more effort into this thing this week!
I love T.V. Dinner and you.
15.4.08
We like noise, it's our choice!
Seventeen was a real fucking trip. I think foremost it was a learning experience. So I'll begin with a list.
THINGS I'VE LEARNED SINCE TURNING SEVENTEEN
- Family is paramount. Don't put them on the back burner for anyone.
- Don't let a girlfriend eat who you are and don't put everything down for one.
- Avoid people who do the above.
- If you feel fresh, don't change.
- Have a set of values and ideals and don't be afraid of having faith in something.
- Don't be cynical.
- Avoid people in school.
- Listen to a lot of music.
- WRITE.
- Stick to what interests you and what you do best.
- Don't make things any harder for yourself than they absolutely have to be.
- Don't be afraid to say exactly what you want to people.
- Don't push too hard.
- Winter sucks.
- Don't just give up things that you used to like a lot! In my case: riding my bike, listening to certain bands, going outside a lot, kicking balls and playing guitar.
- Kick it with friends that are wholly accepting and always engaging.
- Growing up probably isn't all it's cracked up to be so don't rush it by excess or otherwise.
Everything on that list sounds like a douche-bag or a coming of age novel or a teenage drama or a graduation speech... a cliche, but it's all totally true for the most part. These are things I just didn't understand before. Why exactly was seventeen so good? For one, I think two things made me realize that I have to get to living. I wasn't living enough before or, especially, during Taylor (lots of sitting indoors watching um, Martha Stewart) so I went to North Carolina for the twentieth time and had the best two weeks with my family and realized what it was really all about. I really began to seize things, though, in October after Joe's accident. It feels weird writing that. I kind of don't want to include that but it's there. So anyway after all that, I got to living and the next six months weren't like profound or life-affirming... which is awesome because, since I wasn't doing much growing/changing/thinking, I could just do things with abandon. Growing/changing/thinking are cool and all, but I think I did so much of that before, it just wasn't necessary anymore.
There are other reasons. Seventeen is really underrated. I've heard all too often in the last few months that seventeen is stupid. That so is not true! Stop treating it as the twelve months between milestone birthday three (a.k.a. 16; driver's license/permit, general sense of more freedom) and milestone birthday four (a.k.a. 18; "glory" and "freedom" provided by adulthood, ability to buy tobacco porn, entry into stripclubs, "mom and dad, you can't fucking tell me what to do!"). It's not some fucking jacknifed trailer on the highway of life, it is the highway. ("PDA" just came on and it feels amazing). As in it is the straightaway that allows you to put you life on speed control and just coast, baby. (WTF, Cat Power girl deleted me off Facebook. She can fuck off and die, go listen to Deerhunter you reluctant hipster/Pitchfork fiend).
Maybe I psyched myself up a lot and this is just contact enthusiasm. Allison Berger is someone slightly ahead of me in life (age and otherwise) and I listen to what she has to say. Last year, she dedicated a paragraph to me in one of her LJ entries (a true honor!): "he's about the have the best year of his entire life, i can tell. i am weirdly jealous. i think he appreciates the mixes i've made him more than anyone else ever has."
So maybe it's a weird need I have, to fulfill that. But I think she's right: I did have the best year of my entire life. The most things to talk about, the most good memories, the most wasted time, the most mistakes, the most tragedies, the best, best times with the best, best people and the most fitting soundtrack.
(For Personal Reference: The last things I was doing tonight were: Drinking a coke, eating baba ghanouj and pita bread and watching Juno which is good again and again.)
I want to keep it going. It doesn't have to stop. I'm not about to embrace eighteen or adulthood... I'm totally suspicious of both. It's not going to stop, no. I'm done growing. I decided what I wanted to do with my life in the eighth grade.
So I made a playlist:
Joe Gallagher's Standing on the Edge of Seventeen
1. Sleater - Kinney-"One Beat" (a perfect introduction and all the soaring sonics symbolize my erm feelings)
2. Rapture-"House of Jealous Lovers" (really was just stuck in my head today, but it's fun... and I had fun this year.)
3. Liars-"Plaster Casts of Everything" (the frustration of being trapped, then getting freed and the frustration of watching others that are trapped.)
4. Pavement-"Cut Your Hair" (materialism and boredom in youth culture, chasing girls, being satisfied.)
5. Blur-"Good Song" (a completely relaxed song free of worry or change)
6. Liz Phair-"Explain it to Me" (I realized that beautiful musicians who like to toy with boys are more my thing, but none of them are virgins. This album though helped ease a lot of, uh, tension, however.)
7. Pinhead Gunpowder-"My Boot In Your Face Is What Keeps Me Alive" (regret, chasing girls, youth, small towns, late nights, lists.)
8. Interpol-"PDA" (comfort, the occasional introspective look and, dare I get so cheesy: infinite moments.)
9. Polaris-"Coronado Ii" (looking back, watching Pete and Pete, being a badass, not being around at all the wrong times/urbanity.)
10. Green Day-"Who Wrote Holden Caulfield?" (holding onto youth, protecting youth, occasional confusion.)
11. Belle & Sebastian-"I Could Be Dreaming" (Isobel Campbell is reading from Rip Van Winkle to me at the very end... it's a fantasy I like to indulge in, haha.)
12. Los Campesinos!: "This Is How You Spell "Hahaha, We Destroyed The Hopes And Dreams Of A Generation Of Faux Romantics" (staying away from cynics/cynicism, remaining pure, boy/girl harmonies, being a faux romantic myself.)
13. LCD Soundsystem-"Sound of Silver" (looking back, youth, teenagedom, squelching synths, dreaming.)
14. Tokyo Police Club-"Your English is Good" (one line in particular: "we don't need to change/the future's ours." Yes.)
15. Sex Pistols-"Seventeen" (being a badass, disrespecting the elderly.)
16. The Lemonheads-"Kitchen" (yearning for the early 90s, starting traditions with friends.)
17. Liz Phair-"Johnny Sunshine" (sometimes being fucked over but not caring about it.)
18. Le Tigre-"My My Metrocard" (being a master of navigation, city life, feminism.)
19. Against Me!-"Holy Shit" (anarchism, slight anger at the state of the world, selling out.)
20. Ben Kweller-"Commerce, Tx." (small town existence but loving it, sunshiney days with friends/youth, messy rooms, busted amps, loud music, cute neighbors.)
21. The Lemonheads-"You Can Take It With You" (taking my youth, blankie teddy bear and all, with me, trying to keep shit simple!)
So thanks to everyone that keeps me grounded, that talks to me, that talks shit on me, that listens to whatever I have to say, that wants to spite me by trying to go on a camping trip which there's no longer room for their involvement, that doesn't go to my school, that keeps it real. Thanks to people that really matter. Happy birthday to you too becuase I don't want to be insincere by wishing you a happy birthday just because Facebook or Myspace told me to... I know you wouldn't do that either.
Sincerely Yrs,
Joe
P.S. anyone who laughs at Timothy McSweeney's Internet Tendency and/or has a newfound fascination with the Balkan Peninsula and/or World War One... please, get at me.
There are other reasons. Seventeen is really underrated. I've heard all too often in the last few months that seventeen is stupid. That so is not true! Stop treating it as the twelve months between milestone birthday three (a.k.a. 16; driver's license/permit, general sense of more freedom) and milestone birthday four (a.k.a. 18; "glory" and "freedom" provided by adulthood, ability to buy tobacco porn, entry into stripclubs, "mom and dad, you can't fucking tell me what to do!"). It's not some fucking jacknifed trailer on the highway of life, it is the highway. ("PDA" just came on and it feels amazing). As in it is the straightaway that allows you to put you life on speed control and just coast, baby. (WTF, Cat Power girl deleted me off Facebook. She can fuck off and die, go listen to Deerhunter you reluctant hipster/Pitchfork fiend).
Maybe I psyched myself up a lot and this is just contact enthusiasm. Allison Berger is someone slightly ahead of me in life (age and otherwise) and I listen to what she has to say. Last year, she dedicated a paragraph to me in one of her LJ entries (a true honor!): "he's about the have the best year of his entire life, i can tell. i am weirdly jealous. i think he appreciates the mixes i've made him more than anyone else ever has."
So maybe it's a weird need I have, to fulfill that. But I think she's right: I did have the best year of my entire life. The most things to talk about, the most good memories, the most wasted time, the most mistakes, the most tragedies, the best, best times with the best, best people and the most fitting soundtrack.
(For Personal Reference: The last things I was doing tonight were: Drinking a coke, eating baba ghanouj and pita bread and watching Juno which is good again and again.)
I want to keep it going. It doesn't have to stop. I'm not about to embrace eighteen or adulthood... I'm totally suspicious of both. It's not going to stop, no. I'm done growing. I decided what I wanted to do with my life in the eighth grade.
So I made a playlist:
Joe Gallagher's Standing on the Edge of Seventeen
1. Sleater - Kinney-"One Beat" (a perfect introduction and all the soaring sonics symbolize my erm feelings)
2. Rapture-"House of Jealous Lovers" (really was just stuck in my head today, but it's fun... and I had fun this year.)
3. Liars-"Plaster Casts of Everything" (the frustration of being trapped, then getting freed and the frustration of watching others that are trapped.)
4. Pavement-"Cut Your Hair" (materialism and boredom in youth culture, chasing girls, being satisfied.)
5. Blur-"Good Song" (a completely relaxed song free of worry or change)
6. Liz Phair-"Explain it to Me" (I realized that beautiful musicians who like to toy with boys are more my thing, but none of them are virgins. This album though helped ease a lot of, uh, tension, however.)
7. Pinhead Gunpowder-"My Boot In Your Face Is What Keeps Me Alive" (regret, chasing girls, youth, small towns, late nights, lists.)
8. Interpol-"PDA" (comfort, the occasional introspective look and, dare I get so cheesy: infinite moments.)
9. Polaris-"Coronado Ii" (looking back, watching Pete and Pete, being a badass, not being around at all the wrong times/urbanity.)
10. Green Day-"Who Wrote Holden Caulfield?" (holding onto youth, protecting youth, occasional confusion.)
11. Belle & Sebastian-"I Could Be Dreaming" (Isobel Campbell is reading from Rip Van Winkle to me at the very end... it's a fantasy I like to indulge in, haha.)
12. Los Campesinos!: "This Is How You Spell "Hahaha, We Destroyed The Hopes And Dreams Of A Generation Of Faux Romantics" (staying away from cynics/cynicism, remaining pure, boy/girl harmonies, being a faux romantic myself.)
13. LCD Soundsystem-"Sound of Silver" (looking back, youth, teenagedom, squelching synths, dreaming.)
14. Tokyo Police Club-"Your English is Good" (one line in particular: "we don't need to change/the future's ours." Yes.)
15. Sex Pistols-"Seventeen" (being a badass, disrespecting the elderly.)
16. The Lemonheads-"Kitchen" (yearning for the early 90s, starting traditions with friends.)
17. Liz Phair-"Johnny Sunshine" (sometimes being fucked over but not caring about it.)
18. Le Tigre-"My My Metrocard" (being a master of navigation, city life, feminism.)
19. Against Me!-"Holy Shit" (anarchism, slight anger at the state of the world, selling out.)
20. Ben Kweller-"Commerce, Tx." (small town existence but loving it, sunshiney days with friends/youth, messy rooms, busted amps, loud music, cute neighbors.)
21. The Lemonheads-"You Can Take It With You" (taking my youth, blankie teddy bear and all, with me, trying to keep shit simple!)
So thanks to everyone that keeps me grounded, that talks to me, that talks shit on me, that listens to whatever I have to say, that wants to spite me by trying to go on a camping trip which there's no longer room for their involvement, that doesn't go to my school, that keeps it real. Thanks to people that really matter. Happy birthday to you too becuase I don't want to be insincere by wishing you a happy birthday just because Facebook or Myspace told me to... I know you wouldn't do that either.
Sincerely Yrs,
Joe
P.S. anyone who laughs at Timothy McSweeney's Internet Tendency and/or has a newfound fascination with the Balkan Peninsula and/or World War One... please, get at me.
9.4.08
In
Dear Temple University,
They said it couldn't be done! My high school's guidance department viewed me as a hopeless case from the start and didn't even attempt to "guide" me, opting to just send me on my merry little underachieving way. "Yes, Joe, your applications are in. Now, you're blocking my way to the cafeteria." An ex-girlfriend said I was too stupid to succeed. My own mother was wracked with concern. "Is it too late to apply to West Chester?" she'd ask. "But why?" I'd ask in return. "Oh, you know, just to be safe..."
You see my friend, you really were an enormous risk. For the sake of my rigorous "Stay as Relaxed as Possible (SRP)" approach to being alive, I decided to only apply to two schools: Drexel and yourself. Drexel at first glance appeared to have much to offer, but when you and I first met on the first day of classes, D had nothin' on ya baby! You were everything I wanted! It had to be you, babe! Now, we know my grades are no good, but I worked on improving them first semester. I also took this time to think about what I wanted to say to you. Things finally clicked a little before Thanksgiving (fitting, seeing as that's my favorite holiday). I told you about all the books I have read and how inspiring those have been and how that inspiration was fuel for a budding writer, a regular fucking Salinger; and I told you my birthday and my social (you're so trustworthy!) and my address. Mr. Tischler told you how wonderful I was and how I would thrive anywhere there was healthy discussion. I fucking wrote this! With my hand, with a Pilot G-2! You were going to fucking weep. You were going to say "We can let his grades slide. He is going to flourish here. We are going to prod and we are going to be part of something beautiful - the spark to this boy's career fire."
I handed this document to Mr. M in an orange folder but not before being hassled by Mr. F. "Why are you doing it in print? Online is so much more convenient." "Um..." I responded, really quite awkwardly. I'd soon find out though just how convenient when my application materials weren't mailed out until nearly a month later, just before Christmas break. But I could rest easy - I would know of my status early in the New Year.
Like applying in print, this too was wrong. A few weeks went by. January got warm. I finally got a word out of you though. The word was "Hold" and I was to remain on it indefinitely. Or at least until March. Well, fuck me. The world starts spinning. I got into Drexel. My friends made decisions. I explained, countless times to curious relatives that I "was still waiting on Temple, was on hold. Hold? Hold means they are having doubts!" "Oh, but you got into Drexel, did you not? You oughta be fine." "Yes, you're probably right..."
They're wrong of course, Drexel's standards are surprisingly low.
Anyway, you sly dog, just as I was getting impatient and bored of this hold game, you told me something new. No, I wasn't quite in but I was...waitlisted. To be honest, it kinda sounded like the same thing. Now, I was having second thoughts. Did I really want to go to a school that would jerk me around like this? Bob Saget, Obama girl, who cares. Fuck all. Culinary school, that's where I'm headed...
Whoa, Grandfather. He got me an in! I saw grandfather in Florida. He said he'd talk to a friend. We'll call him Mr. P. All you have to know about Mr. P is that he's very important. I met with Mr. P today and It was absolutely swimming. "Temple is just full of nice people like you," he said. We were best friends. He sniggered at my (award-winning!) piece about cheeseburgers. He said he'd make a call later that morning, open up a dialog. I got a call. You called them.
I'm in, I'm in, I'm in, I'm in.
Let us end generically and say that this, my friend, is the start of something very good.
Sincerely yours (or is it love already?),
Joe
They said it couldn't be done! My high school's guidance department viewed me as a hopeless case from the start and didn't even attempt to "guide" me, opting to just send me on my merry little underachieving way. "Yes, Joe, your applications are in. Now, you're blocking my way to the cafeteria." An ex-girlfriend said I was too stupid to succeed. My own mother was wracked with concern. "Is it too late to apply to West Chester?" she'd ask. "But why?" I'd ask in return. "Oh, you know, just to be safe..."
You see my friend, you really were an enormous risk. For the sake of my rigorous "Stay as Relaxed as Possible (SRP)" approach to being alive, I decided to only apply to two schools: Drexel and yourself. Drexel at first glance appeared to have much to offer, but when you and I first met on the first day of classes, D had nothin' on ya baby! You were everything I wanted! It had to be you, babe! Now, we know my grades are no good, but I worked on improving them first semester. I also took this time to think about what I wanted to say to you. Things finally clicked a little before Thanksgiving (fitting, seeing as that's my favorite holiday). I told you about all the books I have read and how inspiring those have been and how that inspiration was fuel for a budding writer, a regular fucking Salinger; and I told you my birthday and my social (you're so trustworthy!) and my address. Mr. Tischler told you how wonderful I was and how I would thrive anywhere there was healthy discussion. I fucking wrote this! With my hand, with a Pilot G-2! You were going to fucking weep. You were going to say "We can let his grades slide. He is going to flourish here. We are going to prod and we are going to be part of something beautiful - the spark to this boy's career fire."
I handed this document to Mr. M in an orange folder but not before being hassled by Mr. F. "Why are you doing it in print? Online is so much more convenient." "Um..." I responded, really quite awkwardly. I'd soon find out though just how convenient when my application materials weren't mailed out until nearly a month later, just before Christmas break. But I could rest easy - I would know of my status early in the New Year.
Like applying in print, this too was wrong. A few weeks went by. January got warm. I finally got a word out of you though. The word was "Hold" and I was to remain on it indefinitely. Or at least until March. Well, fuck me. The world starts spinning. I got into Drexel. My friends made decisions. I explained, countless times to curious relatives that I "was still waiting on Temple, was on hold. Hold? Hold means they are having doubts!" "Oh, but you got into Drexel, did you not? You oughta be fine." "Yes, you're probably right..."
They're wrong of course, Drexel's standards are surprisingly low.
Anyway, you sly dog, just as I was getting impatient and bored of this hold game, you told me something new. No, I wasn't quite in but I was...waitlisted. To be honest, it kinda sounded like the same thing. Now, I was having second thoughts. Did I really want to go to a school that would jerk me around like this? Bob Saget, Obama girl, who cares. Fuck all. Culinary school, that's where I'm headed...
Whoa, Grandfather. He got me an in! I saw grandfather in Florida. He said he'd talk to a friend. We'll call him Mr. P. All you have to know about Mr. P is that he's very important. I met with Mr. P today and It was absolutely swimming. "Temple is just full of nice people like you," he said. We were best friends. He sniggered at my (award-winning!) piece about cheeseburgers. He said he'd make a call later that morning, open up a dialog. I got a call. You called them.
I'm in, I'm in, I'm in, I'm in.
Let us end generically and say that this, my friend, is the start of something very good.
Sincerely yours (or is it love already?),
Joe
6.4.08
Leatherheads
I've been taking a nearly two week respite from blogging. I went to Florida at the end of my spring break. I won't tell you about everything that happened but I visited the Corkscrew Swamp where my dad and I used to go when I was little (I don't think I've been to Naples in at least seven years). Let's just say the people that work for Audubon or the National Geographic Society have really neat jobs. Corkscrew is still really awesome. Probably one of the only uninterrupted expanses of trash-free land in the whole state... too bad that's not enough. All the surrounding development chokes the swamp over time of its water... and ugh. Humanity.
The number one AOL Instant Messenger Conversation excerpt that accurately describes "where I'm at in life":
wolf party joe: life has been awesome
wolf party joe: just like
wolf party joe: trying to keep it simple and like
wolf party joe: trying not to change things
wolf party joe: trying to be real
wolf party joe: that sounded really douche-y
wolf party joe: but it's true!
wolf party joe: that exclamation point was too
wolf party joe: im not going through some weird new age phase thing or anything
maevelauren: hahah i feel ya
maevelauren: you
maevelauren: that was douche-y
wolf party joe: thanks for being honest
wolf party joe: what are you reading
maevelauren: nothing!
and on...
[I have been in a pretty good place though. Ever since turning in my research paper Thursday (Topic: the Smiths. Premise: their uniqueness and subsequent massive influence. End result: way better than junior year's but it's still no "Gatsby v. Caufield: A Great American Novel Showdown), school seems far-less daunting. I won an award: first place in the "Reviews" category of the Delaware Press Association's student journalism competition. Shit didn't turn out as bad as I thought in that whole bag of blog-mess. Camping is less terrifying. I didn't die in a plane crash. Romantic relationships with girls are a total afterthought.]
Girls aren't offbeat professional women however. Here are my top-five fantasy ladayz:
1. Tina Fey (writer, 30 Rock, SNL, Baby Momma)
2. Carrie Brownstein (guitarist, Sleater-Kinney; blogger, Monitor Mix; co-star/writer, Thunderant)
3. Mindy Kaling (co-star/writer, the Office)
4. Liz Phair circa 1993 (soon-to-be indie rock starlet)
5. Kari Byron (costar, Mythbusters)
Top top-four things I loved about Leatherheads that most people won't care about:
1. George Clooney's flawless portrayal of the prohibition-era male (see also: O Brother, Where Art Thou?)
2. Renee Zellwegger as a journalist (Ohmagah.)
3. The underlying point it was trying to make about football's ascension to the incredibly popular yet comparatively unexciting sport it is today.
4. The fistfight scene between Clooney and John Krasinski. Also, Krasinski's whole All American Boy thing was totally affable.
Hot late-spring tickets:
-Pearl Jam @ MSG June 25
-R.E.M. @ Merriwether Post Pavillion June 11
-The Breeders @ TLA June 8
-The Kooks @ TLA June 5
-Dizzee Rascal @ FUC May 9
-Glow in the Dark Tour @ Tweeter May 17
-NASCAR @ Dover Downs June 1 (Don't ask why or knock it til you've been.)
Not looking forward to:
-Graduation
-Turning eighteen
-Every school day until the end of the year
-My next inoculations (I don't even have any idea when that is.)
-Spending lots of money on concert tickets
-Spending lots of my parents' money on Prom, grad party, camping etc.
-Cramming an insane amount of things into this summer. They're all important, none expendable.
Exciting things I did last month:
-Got into a fistfight with my cousin
-Met Dave Eggers (picture below. Contender for most exciting event of the year.)
-Drove home from Center City via West Philadelphia
-Stood on a rooftop
-Drove an old lady home
-Won an award
Lost gems and pleasant surprises I found today whilst reorganizing ALL my CDs:
-All my White Stripes CDs in perfect condition with liners
-Ditto for Lemonheads
-Two copies of London Calling
-Inexplicably, two copies of Dropkick Murphys' Blackout
-All the albums my mom needs to keep her happy (except Tapestry)
-All the Guided by Voices albums my dad needs to keep him happy
-My old RFR DVD
-My old RFR Mix!
Current listening:
-Sleater-Kinney (everything.)
-Cap'n Jazz (Analphabeta...)
-Lemonheads (It's a Shame About Ray reissue.)
-R.E.M. (Accelerate. Totally awesome. Even more so if you're over thirty, I'll bet.)
Several Funny Evan Dando Moments
(answering fan mail, beginnings of the crack phase)
(visiting a high school)
(Regis and Kathy Lee)
What I bought at Borders today:
-Dirt Music (book, caught my eye.)
-Trainspotting (book, actually written in Scottish accent; headache inducing.)
-Beggars Banquet (part of my ongoing self-called-for attempt to educate myself about the Stones... greatness.)
-Adaptation (movie. Would not have bought it if it hadn't been on sale for eight dollars.)
Where I'd like to travel:
Australia (for several months, will go all over the place), France (Paris, but a more concentrated look at the countryside), Montenegro, Iceland, Post-Bloc Eastern Europe, Cuba... also: California, Seattle, Central Pennsylvania, an odyssey throughout the South...
'Night!
props to Allison and Anna for the prodding.
Assorted List Mess:
stop.
The number one AOL Instant Messenger Conversation excerpt that accurately describes "where I'm at in life":
wolf party joe: life has been awesome
wolf party joe: just like
wolf party joe: trying to keep it simple and like
wolf party joe: trying not to change things
wolf party joe: trying to be real
wolf party joe: that sounded really douche-y
wolf party joe: but it's true!
wolf party joe: that exclamation point was too
wolf party joe: im not going through some weird new age phase thing or anything
maevelauren: hahah i feel ya
maevelauren: you
maevelauren: that was douche-y
wolf party joe: thanks for being honest
wolf party joe: what are you reading
maevelauren: nothing!
and on...
[I have been in a pretty good place though. Ever since turning in my research paper Thursday (Topic: the Smiths. Premise: their uniqueness and subsequent massive influence. End result: way better than junior year's but it's still no "Gatsby v. Caufield: A Great American Novel Showdown), school seems far-less daunting. I won an award: first place in the "Reviews" category of the Delaware Press Association's student journalism competition. Shit didn't turn out as bad as I thought in that whole bag of blog-mess. Camping is less terrifying. I didn't die in a plane crash. Romantic relationships with girls are a total afterthought.]
Girls aren't offbeat professional women however. Here are my top-five fantasy ladayz:
1. Tina Fey (writer, 30 Rock, SNL, Baby Momma)
2. Carrie Brownstein (guitarist, Sleater-Kinney; blogger, Monitor Mix; co-star/writer, Thunderant)
3. Mindy Kaling (co-star/writer, the Office)
4. Liz Phair circa 1993 (soon-to-be indie rock starlet)
5. Kari Byron (costar, Mythbusters)
Top top-four things I loved about Leatherheads that most people won't care about:
1. George Clooney's flawless portrayal of the prohibition-era male (see also: O Brother, Where Art Thou?)
2. Renee Zellwegger as a journalist (Ohmagah.)
3. The underlying point it was trying to make about football's ascension to the incredibly popular yet comparatively unexciting sport it is today.
4. The fistfight scene between Clooney and John Krasinski. Also, Krasinski's whole All American Boy thing was totally affable.
Hot late-spring tickets:
-Pearl Jam @ MSG June 25
-R.E.M. @ Merriwether Post Pavillion June 11
-The Breeders @ TLA June 8
-The Kooks @ TLA June 5
-Dizzee Rascal @ FUC May 9
-Glow in the Dark Tour @ Tweeter May 17
-NASCAR @ Dover Downs June 1 (Don't ask why or knock it til you've been.)
Not looking forward to:
-Graduation
-Turning eighteen
-Every school day until the end of the year
-My next inoculations (I don't even have any idea when that is.)
-Spending lots of money on concert tickets
-Spending lots of my parents' money on Prom, grad party, camping etc.
-Cramming an insane amount of things into this summer. They're all important, none expendable.
Exciting things I did last month:
-Got into a fistfight with my cousin
-Met Dave Eggers (picture below. Contender for most exciting event of the year.)
-Drove home from Center City via West Philadelphia
-Stood on a rooftop
-Drove an old lady home
-Won an award
Lost gems and pleasant surprises I found today whilst reorganizing ALL my CDs:
-All my White Stripes CDs in perfect condition with liners
-Ditto for Lemonheads
-Two copies of London Calling
-Inexplicably, two copies of Dropkick Murphys' Blackout
-All the albums my mom needs to keep her happy (except Tapestry)
-All the Guided by Voices albums my dad needs to keep him happy
-My old RFR DVD
-My old RFR Mix!
Current listening:
-Sleater-Kinney (everything.)
-Cap'n Jazz (Analphabeta...)
-Lemonheads (It's a Shame About Ray reissue.)
-R.E.M. (Accelerate. Totally awesome. Even more so if you're over thirty, I'll bet.)
Several Funny Evan Dando Moments
(answering fan mail, beginnings of the crack phase)
(visiting a high school)
(Regis and Kathy Lee)
What I bought at Borders today:
-Dirt Music (book, caught my eye.)
-Trainspotting (book, actually written in Scottish accent; headache inducing.)
-Beggars Banquet (part of my ongoing self-called-for attempt to educate myself about the Stones... greatness.)
-Adaptation (movie. Would not have bought it if it hadn't been on sale for eight dollars.)
Where I'd like to travel:
Australia (for several months, will go all over the place), France (Paris, but a more concentrated look at the countryside), Montenegro, Iceland, Post-Bloc Eastern Europe, Cuba... also: California, Seattle, Central Pennsylvania, an odyssey throughout the South...
'Night!
props to Allison and Anna for the prodding.
Assorted List Mess:
stop.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
