Just because. ;)
I first saw the video for Aerosmith’s “Jaded” years ago, in the midst of a loveless marriage, overcome by my depression, feeling utterly cut off from the primal charge of life and from the world outside.
The video, which tells the tale of a young woman living an artificial life, similarly out of touch with the marrow of existence, moved me incredibly. Eyes might’ve gotten misty. I watched it repeatedly, seeing in it what I’d lost, and trying to use it to inspire me in finding it again.
It’s a well-crafted, beautiful video for a fun song, and as I renew my offensive against my depression today, and once more try to find that doorway into the world, it’s once again a rousing call to life.
In 2009, my ex and I established a Christmas tradition of sharing music from our youths with my son by giving him a representative sampling from the year we were his current age.
This year, he’s fourteen, and since I was fourteen in 1978, I went on a sonic archaeological dig of that year to decide what to share.
I had this on my wall in 1978
My approach is to buy him two albums from the time, and to burn a collection of various hits as well. The two CDs I chose were Van Halen’s Van Halen (their hellaciously strong debut with a bunch of classics like “Runnin’ With The Devil” and “You Really Got Me”) and Meat Loaf’s Bat Out Of Hell (“Would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses…?”). Continue reading
Someone dumped Alaska on Decatur last night. I half expect Sarah Palin to show up trying to slaughter our squirrels and steal medicine from our sick children.
Overnight we had a phenomenal snowfall here in Decatur, and at 7 am it’s still falling. It must be 5-6 inches deep out there.
Nathaniel and I took Boone for a walk in it last night, and it was incredible. By the time we returned to the apartment (and we were only out maybe 15 minutes), I had at least half an inch of snow layered on the brim of my fedora.
Boone, who is a big goofy St. Bernard/English Pointer mix (we call him a Point Bernard), was delighted, snorfeling about, leaping in the air, and wrestling with us.
In honor of this great, white, schoolless snow day, I present to you this song of the week, by Nightnoise.
This morning I posted one of my “Good Memories of 2010,” in which I praised the monstrous(ly talented) Lady Gaga.
I shared a couple of lesser-known acoustic performances of hers, since most folks have probably seen her official vids. There were others I was tempted to toss in, but didn’t wish to overload that blog entry.
So here’s the overflow. ;)
First up is another live take on “Pokerface,” different and possibly more wonderful than the one I shared earlier…(and unfortunately, due to embedding restrictions you have to click through each to watch on YouTube, but it’s worth it)… Continue reading
Lady Gaga is a monster.
And I mean that in the very best way.
Early last year, I actually had the impulse to tweet “I have no idea who Lady Gaga is, and I’m glad.” Rarely listening to the radio, and never watching celebrity-fetish TV, I’d absorbed her name only through some collective unconscious osmosis, and I literally had no idea who she was other than the latest outré pop diva. Which made me reflexively dismiss her as just another turd floating in the bowl of MTV/Perez Hilton culture.
But I didn’t make the tweet, because I don’t like commenting on things I don’t actually know about, and because I didn’t want to be unfair to Gaga, whoever she was. I’m quirkily integrous like that.
Having resisted the impulse to blindly besmirch her, I found my curiosity roused. Did she deserve my scorn or not? I sat down with my good friend YouTube to find out.
She most definitely did not.
I hope the year ahead is great for all of you. And for me too.
That it started with the date 1/1/11 seems auspicious, as if we get to start over after a nightmarish decade of strife and stupidity. Here’s hoping.
This week’s song is one of the loveliest takes on this tune I’ve ever heard. Thanks to Betsy Burnam for sharing it.
Song of the Week, 1/3/11
By Malcolm Middleton
Oh will you come home soon
Come home soon and save me
I’m so bored
Life threatening doom
The walls are closing in all around
Oh will you find me now
Find me out and save me
I can’t get up
Life threatening doom
Dragging me darker and down
Take my hand
Dragging me down
Through the ground
Darker and down
Down down down
All the way down
Oh will you come for me
Comfort me in the night
I’m so tired of feeling sick and tired
Dying at life’s door all the time
Oh I’m locked inside
Trapped inside this body
I can’t get out
And there’s not enough room
I’m glued to the back of this bone mask…
Happy Holidays, all.
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(Song of the Week, 12/13/10)
Enough said.
My eternal war with the darkness of depression kicks off a new initiative today. To commemorate, here’s Leslie Feist with her own single-handed festival of lights…
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As a bonus, here’s an awesome acoustic take on the song which Feist performed on The Colbert Report. (Plus you get the surreal pleasure of glimpsing Colbert in the blue shiny outfit Feist wore in the “1-2-3-4” video).
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A song to get you in the Saturday Night With Cthulhu mood…
(Thanks to horror-meister Ray Garton for sharing this)
Genius.
Pretty much where my head, heart, and soul are today…
In the midst of all my struggles, one thing always brings me joy, even in my darkest times: the existence of my son.
In this week of giving thanks, I present this lovely lullaby, for Nathaniel.
Sing it, Brother Steve.
The street band Natchez On Fire, captured on video in New Orleans by Cory Doctorow.
Awesome stuff. And once again, I ask the universe, what is it with hot chicks and fiddles?
The lovely Lucy Kaplansky covering one of my favorite Steve Earle songs, because I’ve been floating a bit in memories of people I kissed long ago, not nearly enough…
I’m in the midst of trying to pull my head out of my ass and finally finish my current writing project (it’s been a rough fucking year, more on that soon), and it seems a proper time for it, as National Novel Writing Month has now begun.
My participation will be more concurrent than participatory, but I’m with all you NaNo hacks in spirit all the same.
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Under An Outlaw Moon 