Rene Descartes. "Cogito ergo sum."
MySpace. "IM Me."
The Shape Of My Mind: Super Mario Bros.
The first in a series of indeterminate length reflecting on my influences.
My Nintendo Entertainment System languishes in disuse somewhere in my parents’ garage—a sad injustice, especially when I consider that that little computer played me some of the first music I can remember listening to. Thanks to an industrious YouTube user who goes by the gamer-appropriate handle SilvaGunner, I’ve been reconnecting with my roots. And although it’s commonplace to fret that video games are eroding the brains of our youth, I think Super Mario Bros. was quite a musical education for me.
My New Hangout.
Mine eyes have seen the glory of Eagle Rock’s All Star Lanes. Mysterious green plaid wallpaper, inexpensive beer, a pool table with ample surrounding space, a slightly frightening man who laughs at you when you miss a shot, an arcade, and Chinese food. I’ll see you there…
Let Me Count The Ways: Realism.
Years ago, I picked up an album by a band I hadn’t heard of; aside from the mysterious cover art, the Nonesuch Records logo on the jacket sealed the deal. The enigmatically titled i quickly became one of my absolute favorites, and I’ve been hooked on The Magnetic Fields ever since. My objectivity handily compromised, I can declare without compunction that their new album is a grand and glorious thing. How do I love thee, Realism? Let me count the ways.
#1 In Our Book.
Congratulations to Kneebody and Theo Bleckmann on being nominated for a Grammy. Who the hell is Yo-Yo Ma, anyway?
We’re hard at work on a piece about Kneebody’s keyboard player, Adam Benjamin, so don’t touch that dial!
Three Things.
1. Billy Madison is a great movie.
2. Nonesuch Records just released an indescribably strange new album from Pat Metheny. It’s called Orchestrion, and Nate Chinen has some thoughts.
3. I can’t think of many musicians I respect more than Fred Hersch. He’s brilliant and brave, and should be heard by everyone. David Hajdu takes the measure of the man. (Thanks to Jeff Stein for the tip.)
A Love Song.
On three fresh toasted buns, or two, or none,
two burger patties, glistening, or one;
sliced cheese more yellow than the rising sun;
a car box if you’re eating on the run;
tomatoes, onions, lettuce, special sauce;
potatoes, sliced and fried, with ample salt;
vanilla, choc’late, straw’bry ice cream shakes;
thank goodness In-n-Out is open late.
Programming Note.
Twenty Dollars is off today to interview musical maverick, baseball card aficionado, and all-around good guy Adam Benjamin.
Get excited, people:
The Helen Keller Rhythm Section Method™.
"The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart."
You will need:
A keyboard MIDI controller, a bass MIDI controller, a drum set MIDI controller, a computer to mix the instruments, four sets of headphones, and three blindfolds.
Set the mixes such that each player has the other two instruments in her headphones, but not her own. Put on the blindfolds and count off a tune. A fourth person listens to all three instruments, allowing each player to hear his own instrument only if he gets lost.
Is this a stupid idea, or a really stupid idea?
Cuteness Alert!
Vanity Fair contributing editor Jim Windolf asks, “what’s the antonym for “cutegasm”? Because that’s what I’m having right now.”
“For generations, kids couldn’t wait until they reached adulthood so they could smoke, drink, eat four-course meals, make money, drive cars, have sex, and, if they were the type to join the military, legally kill other human beings. Now we would rather log on and tune out, preferably in the womb-like comfort of a Snuggie, which is the perfect thing to wear as we gaze at photos of kittens while gnawing on delicious cupcakes.
Nom-nom-nom.”
And just what the hell is wrong with gnawing on delicious cupcakes?
