file under misc.

Note: Here you’ll find entries from the previous music blog (which shall remain nameless). What you won’t find is the links to downloads…

Let’s Put Your Heart in a Blender
May 28, 2008

…I’m almost a tall guy And fairly good looking
So people they trust me but sometimes they’re wrong…

–The Asshole Song, Jude

It’s all about breakups for everyone this last month or so. I think…I think…we’re finally moving out of that phase and onto better pastures…

Breakup aftermath, as it were: the calls, the texts, the email, the conversations have suddenly gone away. I imagine it sounds like a great swooshing noise as they go, here one minute gone the next. Traces of that person still around in the form of shared websites, that folder in the email with their name on it, the Facebook page you’ve been blocked from, and in some cases a key logger on your laptop that’s a bitch to get rid of and calls for extreme measures.

There’s also that other side. The sadness that the texts, calls, and conversations have stopped. The desire to check on said Facebook pages to see what’s going on. The overwhelming want and need to call and say “hey, asshole, fuck you for invading my privacy like that” and conversely, the overwhelming desire to show up at said asshole’s house with a baseball bat. (Hey, I’d let her do it if I was there.) Breakup aftermath is when you remember the good times and you want them back, but you know you have to keep your distance.

Everyday gets a little bit easier. You alternate between missing and hating. Some days both collide and you’re left just lounging trying to avoid thought. Today was easier than two days ago, and next month will be easier than today. It’s just how it works but damn if it doesn’t suck along the way. Everyday that goes by is kind of a blessing…your life starts to return to normal, you start to feel better, and the further you are from it, the clearer it seems. You realize that hey, she was a flirt around all my friends or that he was a slimy, miserable bastard always on the lookout for someone better. Which, yes, sucks, because then you start wondering, wait? There was someone better than me? And that can totally ruin your progress because then you start on a path of self-loathing and that’s when you have those conversations with your friends that make you feel better. You know the ones. The ones that start with something like “That two-toned chimpmunk whore…” and go from there. Pretty soon you’ve forgotten your handy list of things you hate about yourself and you’ve gotten back on track. It takes work, is what I’m saying.

(And damnit. Viva la two-toned Chipmunk whore!)

Breakup aftermath. When things are still rough but they increasingly, as days pass, become easier and you realize that hey, it’s their loss. That you deserve better and they’re too stupid to realize what they fucked up.

Breakup aftermath. It means moving on.

————————————————————————————–

Not Exactly Strangers, Not Exactly Friends Mix
May 14, 2008

A million hours left to think of you and think of that

–The Con, Tegan and Sara

Lacking, absent, or not found. Missing. A million hours left to think of you and think of that sums it up nicely. At least in my head it does. Because when I miss someone I think if everything in regards to that person. How they smell, what they wear, the last time they touched me, the way they laugh, every argument and shouting match. For the most part, every word passed between us and sometimes words overheard.

Sometimes its a good missing. Sometimes it’s a very painful missing. The very first day of missing is always the hardest and every day gets a little bit easier. Sometimes you get wrapped up in this cycle where you miss for a few days, then everything is right-as-rain again,  and then you’re back to that painful first day of missing. Those cycles are hard to break and are more painful than anything I can think of.

It’s a soundtrack for missing. My soundtrack for missing. Painful, amusing, with the ability to sing along, because sometimes those words I know help if I just let them come out of my mouth. It’s a mix that makes me marvel at how well someone else’s words can make me feel so much better, where lyrics are more important than the memories sometimes.

Songs and their lyrics to pay attention to:

Call and Answer, The Bare Naked Ladies
The Con, Tegan and Sara
Warning Sign, Coldplay
Hello Mr. Heartache, The Dixie Chicks
#41, Dave Matthews Band

————————————————————————————-

The Saturday Afternoon Bug Acid Jazz Mix
May 6, 2008

I make a lot of mixes. I get a lot of mixes. In search of something I could share regularly (since I am so caught up in a project I’ve neglected everyone and everything, including clearly this blog) I’ve decided to share mixes I get.

I’ll be honest. Sometimes they are great. Sometimes they aren’t. I give each and every one of them a listen, a fair chance. Sometimes I keep them in my collection, sometimes I pass them on. I very rarely ever toss them because that would be unkind…someone put a lot of effort into making that mix for me and I always truly appreciate that.

About this mix…it’s from someone who used to fondly call me Bug, in honor of the bug tattoos that line my left arm. He was terribly bad at including track listings with his mixes, so this one (like any others from him I share in the future) has no indication of what anything is title/artist wise. It’s Acid Jazz for the most part and will be liked by those of you who I know enjoy a good Techno-type song now and again. It was meant to distract me from being sick at a particularly bad time and for the most part, it worked. I don’t remember the why of it, other than it was to serve as a distraction, and I don’t remember the when of it. To be honest, all I remember is driving late at night really fast while it played loudly over expensive car stereo speakers. It seems to be a mix meant for speeding.

————————————————————————————-

I hate boys, don’t you?
April 28, 2008

me: “nothing is good enough” is a **** song
me: he hates it
me: because i think it’s him

(oddly, his name is a four letter word lately)

a few minutes later, after an initial listen:

her: listening now
her: why do i want to cry
me: because it’s a very fitting song?
her: sure is
me: because you like someone who’s an ass?
me: see why he hates it?
her: i could actually throw up

(the power of lyrics is awesome, isn’t it?)

There’s the ones who find themselves in romantic entanglements they don’t really want. There are ones who are always on the lookout for the next best thing when really, they might have that best thing right in front of them. There are ones who break up with you via text message, who cheat on you, who act like they are the best you could ever get. There are ones who come on too strong, who don’t come on strong enough, who don’t realize that they just aren’t there in your relationship and expect you to do all the work. There are the ones who ignore you because they want the attention of you trying to get their attention, who never leave you alone when you break up with them, and the ones who you just can’t stay away from no matter how hard you try. Let’s not forget the ones who date down to make themselves feel better and the ones who go from serious relationship to serious relationship sabotoging them when they just can’t be honest with themselves.
Oh. Wow. That’s like…almost every guy I know.

Bad boys. Geeks. Straight edged guys you think the world of. Gay men. Your married best friend from childhood. Your brothers, uncles, cousins, your dad. All of them. Fucked up in one way or another. Or in a combination of ways.

That’s right, I have a dim view of boys at the moment. Yes, I know that there are some really great guys out there. I know a few myself, but really, right now? Sorry fellas, your brothers are making you all look bad.

So in that spirit…the I Hate Boys mix. Lyrics about making mistakes, about not letting go when you should, about the backwards ways boys operate, cheating, loving, hating. It’s all here. It’s for every break up, every broken heart, every angry girl I know…especially that one up there in that conversation, who hurts over what may be the biggest idiot ever.

————————————————————————————–

A Friday This…and That
April 25, 2008

Now playing: Deeper and Deeper Madonna. For about 30 more seconds…because while it’s got a great beat and a hook, it’s not that great of song. But. But. The new Madonna song? I know she’s, what’s the term, old and busted? But. It’s a spectacular track; I guess figuring out that she couldn’t go wrong with Justin Timberlake and Timbaland was a god-send for her. It’s really too bad the rest of the album is…well…it sucks. (Hey! Opinion, remember?)

For those curious: the BOX

(Open to a mix that for some reason, I still get a lot of requests for.)

There’s no Most Played of the Week this week because, well, oddly enough, it’s the same as last week. Though, you can substitute Madonna’s 4 Minutes for Tegan and Sara’s The Con. (Um. Because I’ve had it on repeat for the last half hour.) (Yes, it’s that good.)

The Birthday Mix: I got this last night with this note (and yes, there will be more info about the Birthday Mix forthcoming):

it physically caused me pain to only list 10.

————————————————————————————-

I Won’t Dance…
April 25, 2008

…Je ne danse pas, je ne peux pas
Je ne danse pas, je ne veux pas
Je ne danse pas, merci beaucoup
Vous êtes gentil et je vous aimes
C’est vrai
Mais je n’peux danser quand vous êtes si près

Which means when I’m in your arms I won’t dance…

(Music by Jerome Kern, lyrics by Dorothy Fields. This version as sung by Blossom Dearie.) (And a song I share with my best friend.)

It isn’t an age thing. It isn’t a maturity thing. It isn’t that I don’t know how. I just don’t dance. When I was younger, I did; what high school kid didn’t go to every dance and sneak into clubs they shouldn’t have been in? It wasn’t even that I grew out of it, it’s just never been something I was really into doing. I can get lost in a song just as easily as anyone, but I never really felt the need to get lost in song in the form of dance. I like dancing, don’t get me wrong, it just isn’t my thing. Yet honestly I admit that there have been specific instances of dancing that stick out in my head. Real or imagined, they are there. Geekily I admit I have been known to put on the “Move” playlist and will dance around my kitchen while baking (what? You really didn’t think those chocolate chip cookie care packages were put out without some form of excitement involved in them did you??). Dancing isn’t my thing, but it does feel good.

Instances of dancing in my life time, illustrated by my choice of songs: (let’s get personal, shall we?)

1. Ran Kan Kan (Buena Vista Social Club): Live in Madrid, where I danced in the aisle with a lovely old man who really knew how to spin a girl around.

2. Me & U (Cassie): Discovering mutual attraction that never came of anything in a smokey San Francisco club at 3 a.m.

3. Groove Is In the Heart (Dee-Lite): 900 million slumber parties.

4. I Dreamt I Was An Architect (The Decemberists): 4 a.m. Prauge. A sad slow dance in the snow. It was a goodbye.

5. Smack My Bitch Up (Prodigy): One of the loudest, wildest concerts I’ve ever been too. Also, 3 a.m. studio time in Atlanta, in the dark, with about 15 people for tension relief.

6. What I’d Say (Ray Charles): A 1950’s themed Thanksgiving. When I was 12.

7. Tonight, the Heartache’s On Me (The Dixie Chicks): Oklahoma. 4 years ago. Winter. It was snowing, we were bored, we hit a dive bar in the middle of nowhere. I learned to Two-Step from a guy with a Mullet.

8. Strict Machine (Goldfrapp): Only in my head. And I’m not telling with whom.

9. Impressive Instant (Madonna): The Mix. The Saint. The Silver Dollar. Drag queens.

10. Bizarre Love Triangle (New Order): There is a bar somewhere on this planet called Club Zero and let’s just say, the only five times I’ve been there, I wasn’t old enough for legal admittance.

11. Out Of the Woods (Nickel Creek): It’s my dream wedding song. Also. The Ryman Auditorium, in Nashville. A live performance. He leaned over and whispered in my ear “You should dance with me just once.” And I did.

12. Love At First Sight (Kylie Monogue): Let me bounce around my kitchen getting chocolate chips everywhere.

13. Common Freestyle (Roy Hargrove): Let me bounce around my studio getting paint everywhere.

14. Indra (Thievery Corporation): “Can you feel me behind you, hands on your hips?”

————————————————————————————–

Insert Your Name Here
April 16, 2008

Music sets the scene, does it not? Like I said previously, I assign certain songs to certain people/places/things/events in my life.

I invite you to play along…tell me which song sets the scene for these events in your life:

Birth
Average day in the life of you
Your “happy” dance
1st date
Love scene
Fight scene
Breaking Up
Getting back together
Your secret love
Regret
How you spend a night alone
When everything is okay
Deep thoughts
Flashbacks
Death. Someone elses.
Death. Your impending one.

————————————————————————————–

Lust, But No Caution — a playlist
April 14, 2008

Actual stream of text messages, sent over a long distance, in jest:

Him:“What? Mindfucking me isn’t enough?”
Me: “NOT ALWAYS. I can only mindfuck you many times before it gets old.”
Me: “Typical you. Don’t want me to hook up with anyone but tease me.”
Me: “Yay for double standards!”
Him: “That’s how I roll.”

Images they produce, even though you might hear them and say to yourself, “sex? really?”

Kissing, touching, hands sliding up thighs, garter belts, lust, cleavage, beads of sweat worked up sheer want. Weight, on top, underneath, behind, next to. Moaning, gasping, sheer tension. Water, messy sheets, that glance across the room that says “I have intimate knowledge of your body” or “I want to have intimate knowledge of your body.” Desperation, want, lust, desire, NEED in capital letters because sometimes NEED feels that urgent. Being lost for several moments or several hours and not wanting it to end. Nothing overly emotional because sometimes you can have it without emotion. Sometimes it’s just a basic function, but one you’re glad to be lost in. Mind fucking, the ability to say those things you would never dare say in another setting, acting out things you can’t have…

I could go on and on and on, but you get the point…it’s a playlist about sex.