I’m starting to become more and more interested in this Twitter business, but it definitely doesn’t have quite as much magic to it without a lot of people to follow. If you do use the service, please connect with me over there.
Oh, also, just in case somehow I haven’t blathered on about this, I really love my iPod touch. ![[WS]](/blog/media/end.gif)
Shortly after I saw Daft Punk last August, I acquired a field recording of the show, and believing I had a good record of the experience I declined to purchase the official album of the tour released in November. I just didn’t feel like I needed another version of something I already had. I was wrong. Alive 2007 is a rich, clean, beautifully detailed capture. In many ways, the tour is like a dramatic production, composed and choreographed and night after night offering the same dazzling performance with only subtle differences. It follows, then, that the disc of the same name is akin to having a recorded score to a Broadway musical. You only get part of the experience, but it’s a valid work in its own right. In this case, I have to say that Alive 2007 is as essential a part of the Daft Punk discography as any of their three major releases. It’s more than just a presentation of some of their work in a live format, it is a new body of work altogether. The duo’s remixing and combination of their previous material and self-referential sampling takes all the songs you already know and expands them even further. I have no doubt, of course, that my feelings for the disc are tied to the fact that I’m one of the lucky kids who was able to witness the spectacle firsthand (at least, I think we’re all pretty lucky). Listening to the disc even now gives me chills and makes me grin and dance like I did in Brooklyn that night.
The last few days of my schedule have alternated work and time off, which sounds great but subtly drains your interest in both states. You can’t get adjusted to working and always feel out of the loop, and you can’t take even a medium-sized trip or get involved in a serious outside project. Frankly, I don’t know why I’m complaining at all about it. I’m not sure I’ve ever been satisfied by a work schedule long term; I wasn’t all that thrilled by the nine-to-five either. Tomorrow is another empty day, but then I embark on an eight day coffee slinging binge punctuated by an even less restful trip to TGA and points west.
Yesterday Courtney and I spent most of the day together watching snippets of absurdist comedy shows (Tim & Eric, Whitest Kids U’ Know, Wonder Showzen) on the internet and traveling to Portsmouth. At the Friendly Toast I attempted to order something I thought might make a decent analog for a croque-madame. It did not. The ingredients were all sort of there but the result, while not unpleasant, was entirely unlike the sandwich I had been craving.
Our apres-dinner stroll brought us to Bull Moose where I plucked an old gem from the used jazz bins (Charles Mingus’ Town Hall Concert) and a newer album (Stars’ Set Yourself On Fire). The former is something I’ve been waiting to find used ever since George played it to death while we closed The Daily Grind so many nights; Scott Briggs brought the latter to my attention during our journey to Coney Island last August. I’m fair excited about both discs and am just listening to the Stars album now for what might as well be the first time. I am almost certain we had it going in the car at some point, but my musical memory isn’t good enough to recall details about a single playthrough some six months on.
Due to the delayed onset of snow today, I made it to work pre-storm, then left two and a half hours early for want of business, hot chocolate in hand. Now I’ve got the whole rest of the day and all of tomorrow to play in the snow and generally entertain myself. I’m excited like a schoolchild. I might just get suited up and go tramping through the woods across the street later this afternoon. I will probably be enjoying more hot cocoa somewhere along the line. Also knitting. Hooray winter!
P.S. I just received a phone call informing me that the glasses I ordered a month ago yesterday have finally arrived back from the lab, but of course I can’t get there to pick them up, what with the many inches of snow on the road.
Somewhere along the way I lost my digital copy of The Streets’ Original Pirate Material, and since I own the album on vinyl I figured grabbing a new copy was legit enough. It was a sudden urge that overcame me, the one to spin this disc. As with all garage, the material sounds dated, permanently locked in the early oughts, but remains eminently listenable. Skinner’s ridiculous flows and jerky 2-step beats are still as amusing as the lyrical content is meaningful.
In other music news, Radiohead’s latest effort is finally starting to unfold itself into a new favorite as their albums are often wont to do. I’m happy to have them back in my life; after 2003’s Hail to the Thief I let them fall by the wayside. I’ve been putting the album on at work as often as I’m able.
Finished up Rainbows End, a conceptually fantastic and compelling read. The tale kind of falls apart three-quarters of the way through and slams into a fast-paced wrap-up-the-loose-ends-I-found-most-important conclusion. The real power of the novel though lies not in Vinge’s storytelling but in his magical ability to envision life beyond the Singularity, and so it earns a thumbs up from me on that account. My new read is American Gods, which I’ve only just begun, but which is so far promising. I’ve had recommendations about it for years, anyway, so I am happy to have received a copy for Christmas from Casey (Thank you again, Casey!).