Would everyone love to hear Rob Ickes play some yazz dobro?
CD Monday
CD Monday
CD Monday
I was driving up (well… down and over, then up) to Chincoteague while Joe Pug was playing in Richmond on Friday, so I’m deploying Messenger as tactical redress.
CD Monday
While we were on our way into the St. Vincent show last Wednesday, an excited but exhausted Mrs. YHT asked me if I’d ever sat in the National’s balcony seats. (Subtext: We’re finding it more and more tempting to sit down at shows. This makes us feel old.) I told her I’d sat up there once, when Ben Kweller played the NationalĀ in 2008.
YET
Ben Kweller has always represented youth to me.
CD Monday
Happy Monda…
[checks calendar]
Oh. OK, in my defense, I’m just getting back from a 4-day weekend, so it’s Monday to me.
CD Monday
More Anat Cohen! This time her Claroscuro album, which my mom sent me after hearing about Cohen on NPR. (I’d guessĀ thisĀ was this story she heard.) My mom does this from time to time — she’ll hear about something on the radio and a few days later, without a word, a CD will be waiting on my doorstep. How cool is that?
CD Monday
This soundtrack, y’all. So much nostalgia. While there are songs I’m tempted to skip over (hard to abide by a lyric like “Like a fully clothed ho at the peep show”), there are some serious classics: “Dammit,” “It’s Tricky,” “Flashlight,” “Paradise City,” Missy, Busta… This movie hit at just the right time — the summer before I started high school — so the plot and characters seemed serious, way less cartoonish than they do now. I can’t tell you how influential the whole “Nice guys don’t always finish last” message was, both for good and ill. The plot line I should have been paying attention to was Seth Green’s — learning to be true to myself would have prevented some equally horrible fashion choices.
CD Monday
File this one under “Albums I liked but didn’t spend enough time with.” I do listen to “Colombia “frequently, but I’ve lost touch with the rest of Local Natives’ Hummingbird. Gonna fix that this week.
CD Monday
My dad gave me this CD after getting back from a trip to New Orleans. An academic conference I believe. I never really thought about the inscription — how it’s addressed to Bill (my dad) and not David (me).
You Hear That 