Walk Away Now

So now that I've admitted to spending the last month or so soaking every note of Boxer into my bones, I probably ought to fess up to my addiction to La Blogoteque's Take-Away Shows video podcast. The series started up a while ago and it appears that friend-of-the-National, Vincent Moon is the visionary videographer (cinematographer? director? best boy? gaffer?) behind most of the spots. Check it out with this disclaimer: watch one and you're hooked. Every clip is hypnotic in its own way, especially when it's the Shins strolling down a street and starting into a Calexico cover before arriving at their eventual Gone for Good performance destination. Or when Sufjan Stevens spins and sings on a rooftop. Or when two fellows from the National head out on a sailboat and deliver a bare-bones version of Gospel. That said, the following two have been on nonstop rotation at the upto12 workspace:

Start a War kills me and the dinner-table performance is a pure stunner.


I know, attention spans are short these days. But carve out 15:27 for this required viewing. Please. Do this one thing for yourself. You won't regret it. Especially when you realize that a bit of the elevator percussion involves pages being torn from a phone book.


You can subscribe to the podcast by clicking on the iTunes link on the right side of the Les Concerts a Emporter page (it's all in French, so good luck... okay, fine, here's the English language page). You can only access the last 15 or so via iTunes, but you'll find all the shows at DailyMotion (just search for "take away shows").

Wha Ha-pen?

Where have I been? What happened to this blog? Why don't I write? Theories are everywhere:

I'm lazy. I'm a bad writer. I have no original ideas. I can't handle the pressure of an audience. I'm too busy watching Rob & Big. I'd rather play Spider Solitaire on the BlackBerry. I'm too cool for a blog. I'm not cool enough for a blog. I got a new turntable. I spent 5 days at the Grand Wailea (on company dollars, no less). I spent 5 days in Wyoming. I drove across northern Nevada twice in four days with only one night of sleep in between. I have trouble waking up in the morning. I drink too much Diet Coke. I can't stop listening to Boxer (the National). I can't stop listening to The Reminder (Feist). I bought tickets to see the White Stripes and Arcade Fire and Built to Spill and the National (Arcade Fire and the National on back-to-back nights in Denver... holy holy). I buy four tickets to every show without knowing if anyone else wants to go. I play golf. I own at least five golf shirts. I own golf shoes. I'm moving up the corporate ladder. I have no idea where I'm going. I miss Portland more than I should. I'm reading the only Nick Hornby book I haven't read (A Long Way Down) and it's fantastic. I sleep with a baseball bat next to my bed. I've decided to buy records instead of CDs. I have horrible manners. I shrug a lot. I wink even more. I've given up on learning to whistle. I do my best to maintain a clean and orderly cubicle. I keep a change of clothes in the trunk of my car. I refer to my sons as "The Chubby" and "The Scrawny". I enjoyed Live Free or Die Hard a little too much. I eavesdrop. I have no excuse.

So that's that. Take your pick. Leave another couple in the comments. I know better than to promise that this post signals a change in my behavior... but I can hope, right?

Where Are You Now That I Need You, Dr. Emmett Brown?

I need Dr. Emmett Brown and his flux capacitor. And I need him to make one modification to the Dolorean. I'm asking him to fiddle with the space-time continuum. I need a few more hours of today. It's not a crazy request. The way I figure, being able to squeeze an extra few hours out of an extra-good day is worth just as much as the ability to avoid disintegration by reuniting George and Lorraine. That's all. I just want today to last a little longer. It's been that good. It really has...

If You Need A Reminder...

The Lovely Leslie Feist's new album on Arts & Crafts (The Reminder) hits the street on May 1. Everything I've heard is, well, wonderful. Kate has the whole thing and says it's absolutely mesmerizing. I've promised to abstain from listening until the official drop date... but I've caved on similar commitments. And I have a feeling that each viewing of this video decreases the odds that I'll actually wait it out.

Also, I was talking with D the other day and we're both fairly certain that Feist is the type of girl that wouldn't exactly spin your head as she walked down the street, but the second she started humming a tune (or - heaven help us! - singing and prancing about), she'd become the sort of girl you follow home and stalk for the next six months. Not that I'd ever do anything of the sort...

I Can't Stop Thinking About This

The National Join Arcade Fire for U.S. Dates

But I probably should. I just can't help but hate people who live on the East coast (or, well, not in Utah)... lu-uh-cky.

Unplug Your Ears

Apparently I'm all about cause-related movements these days, what with Cinco de Mustache spreading across the land. "What now?" you ask... Well...

Like most corporate, cubicled workplaces, the place I spend my 9-to-5 is a place of headphones. Whether it's out of courtesy or a curmudgeonly desire for solitude, everyone rocks their iTunes about as noiselessly as possible. And I'm typically cool with that. We all know that I've go no desire to hear so-and-so get happy to Broadway show tunes...

However, I'm tired of headphones. I'm tired of earbuds. I'm ready for music that invades the atmosphere. I want to keep upping the volume.
So, about a month ago, I initiated No Headphones Friday. Armed with just a simple set of $30 speakers gifted to me at the Christmas holiday, I've launched an assault on solitude. I take requests (and sometimes even honor them). I'm the DJ of cubelandia. And everyone loves it. No joke. We're all quietly dying for a collective listening experience. It makes us happy. It'll make you happy. Try it out. That crazy half-German fellow sitting on the other side of the partition might just love you for it.

It's a Cause-Related Movement

Creent got it all started. And you can read about it over at D's place. But all you really need to know is this: Growing season is upon us and you've still got three weeks to put your best facial follicles forward. So join up. ¡Pronto!

Hey Papa! Did You Bring Me A Prize?

When your dad goes to Mexico for a couple days, nothing quite says, "I missed you, son" like a handful of Mexican candy and a lucha libre mask (with attached cape!).


Being four years old must rule.

You'll Never Guess

There was a package waiting for me when I arrived home tonight. From FILTER magazine. Full of CDs. It turns out that the long-awaited winnings from I AM FUEL, YOU ARE FRIENDS had finally reached the upto12 home. And, while I was supposed to receive a simple copy of the Stranger Than Fiction soundtrack, I also received a few bonus albums for being such a patient and good-natured winner (or something like that).

The final haul:
Mrs. upto12 is pretty happy about the Sarah McLachlan album and the comprehensive Depeche Mode Best Of disc (18 songs and 23 videos!). I couldn't be happier about the Emily Haines album - I've been forgetting to buy it for months.

Thank you, Heather!

Now if only that autographed Calexico album would show up on my doorstep...

Urban Lounge, SLC - Badly Drawn Boy - 11:55pm

Kyality: He's drifting off into the abyss

(Three false starts of a Thunder Road cover)

(The first verse and chorus of Like A Virgin)

(The opening bars of Silent Sigh)

upto12: Well, if the abyss leads him from Like A Virgin directly into Silent Sigh, I hope Mr. Drawn-Boy follows that abyss whever it takes him.

Go Buy This Album

As usual, I'm behind the curve on this one, but I picked up Regina Spektor's Begin to Hope about two months ago (gave it to Wife Of upto12 for her birthday, actually) and every song is a humm-able bit of delicious pop sweetness. No joke. It'll be the best sub-$10 purchase you make this month.

And... to solidify your Regina fandom, I'll one-up Kate's mandate. Watch this:

Big Day

Last Thursday was an incredibly big day for some true friends of upto12. Visit them:
www.struckcreative.com

And read about the shenanigans:
Struck blog

Why I Love Nick Hornby and Why I'm Convinced That He Knows Me Personally

In his own words (from Fever Pitch):

"I just felt as though I had come off the rails somewhere.

"I had no idea at what point this might have happened. Indeed, I wasn't even sure which rails these were. I had loads of friends, including girlfriends, I was in work, I was in regular contact with all the members of my immediate family, I had suffered no bereavements, I had somewhere to live . . . I was still on all the tracks that I could think of; so what, precisely was the nature of the derailment? All I know is that I felt, inexplicably, unlucky, cursed in some way that would not be immediately apparent to anyone without a job or a lover or a family. I knew myself to be doomed to a life of dissatisfactions: my talents, whatever they were, would go permanently unrecognised..."

I'm sure none of you have ever felt that way. I mean, I haven't... but if I had (or if I did), Mr. Hornby uses just the right words to explain the inexplicable.

You Need To Watch This

At least three times. In the next 20 minutes. I'm not joking.

Obviously

My blog output is inversely related to my travel schedule. You'd think it'd be the other way, right? That traveling would give me more to write about... But you'd be wrong. You'd be dead wrong. And if I had a therapist, he (she?) would certainly say something about my self-destructive blogging tendencies. Something about how I stop writing just to eliminate my audience and reduce the pressure to write a decent word or two on a regular basis. My therapist would be wrong. But probably not dead wrong. Just normal wrong.