Muxtape

More ways to waste time at work online are probably not needed but this is a cool site along the lines of Imeem. It is been much discussed on the music blogs. Even New Yorker columnists are doing it.

Largehearted Boy pointed out this (snarky) favorite.

Rock Art

So I was following my Google Reader divining rod around the web and came across a collection of music blogs at the L.A Times, Soundboard. One of the posts was about rock show poster art booths at SXSW aka Flatstock. This post linked to the American Poster Institute where I found the above Calexico poster. It reminded me of all the great posters that were done for the Fillmore in San Francisco for the Bill Graham shows and some of the great ones still being done such as the ones for the Drive-By Truckers. Below is Calexico covering Alejandro Escovedo from the album Por Vida. Alejandro will be here in Iowa City next week.

"Wave" - Calexico (Alejandro Escovedo cover)

Raconteurs

I first saw this on I Am Fuel music blog. Unlike Joe Biden I (almost) always cite my sources. The second album of Jack White's side project is on sale today.

Domo Arigato Manny-san!

"Manny being Manny" is already in mid-season RBI form. A clutch Manny Ramirez hit in extra innings with two men on gives the Red Sox a 6-5 win on Opening Day in Tokyo. Papelbon had a shaky save giving up a run in the bottom of the 10th but then shut the A's down with 2 men on. I did not get up at 5am to watch this game. I did get up in time to see them from 4th inning until the 9th but had to go to work. I was following the game on my computer until I was called away for a meeting. I only found out they won a few minutes prior to posting this.

"Say Hello to My Little Friends."

My friend Eric, with his son Samuel Charles, and his wife Sue's shoulder.

My friend Josh and his son, Samuel James...

"Happy Easter" is not a phrase that rolls off of the tongue without pause. Nevertheless it is a holiday usually spent with family so instead of contemplating the irony of that greeting I will move on to baby pictures. I have been meaning to post these birth photos from close friends who both had baby boys whom were named Samuel. Which is kind of cool because even if though they don't know each other yet they could spend the next 15 years in the same school system as best friends. Eric has a good post on his Myspace blog about their experience which is worth reading. Happy Easter!

UPDATE: I forgot to give a shout out for the Beach Drink Easter crew down in AZ. Wish I was with you guys again this year. It snowed here.

Cat Power

As the glacier retreats from Iowa City leaving a moraine of salt and many decimated roads I long for the frenzy of March Madness and the opening day of Major League Baseball (Red Sox on ESPN today at lunchtime hmmm) as the true first signs of Spring. In the meantime I jam out at my desk or read about Russian poets in San Diego.

Check out the amazing live recordings of Cat Power over at Aquarium Drunkard. It is another edition of The Black Session from French radio’s France Inter. Most of the songs are from her latest covers record, Jukebox, but I think my favorite is her original song "Song to Bobby". I initially thought it was a song by Bob Dylan instead of perhaps the tribute to him that it may be. Anyway these Black Sessions are cool. I have an older one of The Eels where I thought the mood was enhanced by the French DJ introducing the songs. I had no idea what he was saying but how chic it felt. The link below is to the original album version of the song. Compare it to the live one over at AD. There is a lot of energy in the live show.

"Song to Bobby" - Cat Power

UPDATE/Correction. - It was supposed to be Song "to" Bobby not "for" him. Excuse the prepositional lapse. Here is a song by written by Dylan she did cover.

"I Believe in You" - Cat Power

Band of Founding Brothers

Somehow this post did take first time around. I watched the first two parts of the HBO mini-series "John Adams" last night. This was after watching the HGTV Dream Home give away go to some extremely underwhelmed woman in Solon, Iowa.

This series is a sufficient enough reason not to cancel HBO as soon as "The Wire" ended its fifth and final season last week. There are some dramatic licenses taken naturally but it follows the McCullough biography fairly well so far. It makes use of the wonderful and voluminous correspondence between John and his wife Abigail, sometimes turning them into scenes of dialogue. I am looking forward to the next five parts of this series.

Doisneau: Underground Press

Robert Doisneau, Clandestine Press, Quartier Opera, Paris 1944.

Were I to fall in love all over again, it would be
with this low ceiling, with the calm faces
of the two men going about their craft,
and with her, now twisting towards them,
beautiful, defiant and free.

Because we forget how beauty was once itself
and nothing else, how it held its stellar
moment in attic and cellar.

Because that is what beauty is, this compact
with time and the silence of concentration
on one subversive operation,

that requires courage and sacrifice
and never comes without a price.

by George Szirtes
Poetry, February 2008


Szirtes' has several poems as response to certain scenes from World War II. There are several more at the Poetry Magazine website. This is my favorite of the bunch. Although the one called Latrine with the first line of the poem ("Four poilus in a wood austerely shitting." ) is a very close second.

UPDATE: I added a few more music links.

Chorizo Pig

Photo from Amy Stein'g blog (http://amysteinphoto.blogspot.com/)

Google Reader suggested this blog and I find my self drawn to it daily.

"...Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot, fighting in the captain's tower ..."

From the Towers


Insanity is not a want of reason.
It is reason's overgrowth, a calculating kudzu.

Explaining why, in two-ton manifesti, thinkers sally forth
with testaments and pipe bombs. Heaven help us:

spare us all your meaningful designs. Shine down or
shower forth, but (for the earthling's sake) ignore
all prayers followed by against, or for. Teach us to bear

life's senselessness, our insignificance, and more;
let's call that sanity. The terrifying prospect isn't some
escapist with a novel, fond of comfort, munching sweets—

it is the busy hermeneut, so serious he's sour, intent on making
meaning of us all, and bursting from the towers to the streets

Heather McHugh

Poetry March 2008