Archive for category Music
Humor for the query-worn soul: Rep Me Maybe?
One day last week, as I was driving home from work and contemplating my query letter for Famine – you know, wondering again if a tweak here or there wouldn’t give it a little extra punch, like you do – my car radio assaulted me with a terrifying song. You know the one, right? It was that heavily produced, auto-tuned thing by that little girl with three names that, once having taken up residence in my subconscious, seemed impossible to remove short of sloppy, regrettable, binge-drinking and/or full-frontal lobotomy?
For the record, I’m pretty sure those particular conditions were prophesied re: The End Times. As in:
Lo, when She, the child of three names, commands the minds of men with insipid words in song,
the Bringer of Darkness will roam the land to eat the souls of the puppies and kittens!
Errr, something like that.
Anyway, luckily, as I was already thinking heavily about that query letter when The Song moved in, something snapped in my brain. And not unlike those old Reese Peanut Butter Cup commercials where the chocolate ends up in the peanut butter after some ridiculously unlikely event, my experience sending queries got mixed in with the earworm and something was born that gave me a downright not-masculine and wholly shameful fit of giggles.
Warning: This may be the cheesiest commercial ever made.
It is thus with great pride that submit this parody for all my literary brothers and sisters out there, queryers fighting the good fight deep in the muddy trenches of “trying to get a novel published”, as well as all the long-suffering agents and editors desperately seeking that one shiny needle in the dirty haystack of “You buys my book ‘coz I wrotes it gud and it’s better than them sparkly vampire stories and it’s gonna make more cash that Steve King fella”.
Anyway, I hope this brings everyone at least a brief smile before we all get back to our respective trenches.
REP ME MAYBE
I send my dreams in email
I pray that this time goes well
And you’re the one that I sell
My query’s on it’s way
I’d sell my soul for a full
For you to say, “This is cool,”
A call from you would just rule,
Each query makes me pray
Your read queue is slowin’
I’m desperate, now it’s showin’
Long nights, Send/Receivin’
Please, oh, please, no form rejection!
Hey, I’m an author, and this makes me crazy
But here’s my query, so rep me maybe
I know I’m waiting, ’till you reject me,
But here’s my query, so rep me maybe
Hey, I’m an author, and this makes me crazy
But here’s my query, so rep me maybe
Other agents said, “your book’s just not me”
But here’s my query, so rep me maybe
I keep waiting for your call
While banging head against the wall
And just get no response at all
My query nerves are frayed
I hit F5 all day long
Doubt that my letter was strong
Think that my whole dream is wrong
Here in fast food I’ll stay
Your read queue is slowin’
I’m desperate, now it’s showin’
Long nights, Send/Receivin’
Please, oh, please, no form rejection!
Hey, I’m an author, this makes me crazy
But here’s my query, so rep me maybe
I know I’m waiting, ’till you reject me,
But here’s my query, so rep me maybe
Hey, I’m an author, and this makes me crazy
But here’s my query, so rep me maybe
Other agents said, “your book’s just not me”
But here’s my query, so rep me maybe
I want to publish for real, I need you so bad
I need you so bad…I need you so, so bad
You know the pubs who will deal, I need you so bad
It’s self-pubbing without you…I need you so, so bad
I know I’m waiting, ’till you reject me,
But here’s my query, so rep me maybe
Hey, I’m an author, and this makes me crazy
But here’s my query, so rep me maybe
Other agents said, “your book’s just not me”
But here’s my query, so rep me maybe
I want to publish for real, I need you so bad
I need you so bad…I need you so, so bad
You know the pubs who will deal
So rep me, maybe?
And yes, I realize it’s the Worst. Song. Parody. Ever. But, you know, look at the source material.
I’m just sayin…
Now, get back to work.
Pud’n
Tunes Testing: The day the music, er, well, took a short leave
Since I’ve been getting pelted about this by several of you—and by several, I mean, well, nobody, really—I thought I should come right out and address the issue.
Dude, what’s up with the Tunes Testing, (none of) you asked?
Frankly, nothing’s up with it.
Admittedly, I haven’t done a very good job lately of keeping my promise from the beginning of the year. In fact, I’ve let several weeks go by without writing the obligatory music-related post. But, no, I haven’t given up. I have, however, learned that my original expectation was a little, um, unrealistic. Like, “OH! Hai! I has never skied on the skis in the snow before, but I can totally take the Quadruple Viper Black Diamond Widow-maker Slopes first thing!”
Maybe that was a bad analogy.
Anyway, the point here is that I underestimated the amount of time and attention I’d need to commit to experiencing and evaluating a brand new (to me) piece of music every week. That’s especially true considering my intention to write a post about each new album/band and not sound like it was cobbled together by Bevis and Butthead or Wayne and Garth, in the first ten minutes of detention.
I can just see it now:
Tunes Testing: The Manic Street Preachers
Butthead: Huh-huh. Huh-huh-huh. Dude, these guys ROCK!
Bevis: No way, Butthead, heh-heh, you can’t even understand them. It’s like, like, ‘scrreeeeeeech, I’m saaaaaad, screeeeeech,’ or something. heh-heh-heh. Crrrrrrrraapacino!
Butthead: Shut up, dummass!
Bevis: No, you shut up. Bow to Cornholio!
<fighting ensues>
Yeah, um, that’s not really what I was I going for.
So, anyway, yes, unequivocally, there will be more Tunes Testing. Soon. I just need an adapter for my car to play Spotify or, like, 72 more hours per week or something.
I dunno, I’ll figure it out.
Until then, well, I wanted to embed a video for you listening pleasure. Specifically, I wanted to embed the sing-along video The Oatmeal posted yesterday. It amused me greatly. Then again, it’s completely NSFW*. In fact, there’s a pretty good chance it’s marginally Not Safe For Life.
So, instead, I give you Taylor Swift. Not because I like Taylor Swift, mind you. Oh, by the 17 mouths of the Dark Serpent of Upandor, no. But I have a six year old daughter with a CD player. So, like it or not, I have the privilege of listening to this, um, stuff, all too often. And if I have pay, you might as well share my pain.
Personally, I’m expecting that my readership is smart enough to follow the Oatmeal link and not click the Taylor Swift “play” button. But, I’ll understand if you never want to visit my website again. Thank you for suffering with me anyway.
Oh, and don’t forget, Tunes Testing will return…soon!
Pud’n
Tunes Test: The Tallest Man On Earth
Before I really get going on this week’s music meanderings, I feel compelled to point out that I’ve removed the “Tuesday” from tunes testing around here. After several weeks of it, I think it’s apparent that Tuesday was wishful thinking at minimum, and straight-up make believe in practice. I really love writing the new music feature, but I think I’m likely to end up making myself look like procrastinating slug-knob if I don’t pull this car over right now and strip the Tuesday off of it.
So, there you go. Sometimes? Tuesday. Other times? Who knows. But I promise I’ll get one out each week, if at all possible.
Now then.
This week’s new band/artist is The Tallest Man On Earth, who is, apparently, a person rather than an ironically named band as I’d assumed. I suppose that in retrospect, any act with a name describing an individual fellow, resident of the Guinness Book of World’s Records or not, should be considered a person until proven otherwise. So, see, I’ve learned something already!
The Tallest Man On Earth is Kristian Matsson, who I don’t actually believe is, you know, all that tall. I mean, he’s Swedish, and maybe he’s tall for Swedes, I don’t know. That is, I don’t know either how tall he is nor how he compares to his countrymen. But, really, the height thing isn’t all that important. You probably shouldn’t dwell on it.
We should, however, dwell on the fact that I enjoyed listening to two albums this week, The Wild Hunt (2010) and Shallow Grave (2008). Admittedly, there isn’t much difference between the tracks on either, but each is a solid choice if you’re looking for something that’s simple yet still manages plenty of complexity through depth.
Simple? Well, as far as music goes, you can’t really get simpler. The whole thing is 95% a guy with an acoustic guitar. That’s it. No bass guitar, no drums, no keyboards, no gospelly (it is too a word) background vocals, no cowbell.
Yes, I said no cowbell. Trust me, it’s okay.
Fine, if you’re really freaked about it, I guess there’s, like one track featuring piano. So, relax.
Complex? The Tallest Man On Earth brings it with thoughtful, lyrical vocals that are some of the most poetic I’ve ever heard from an individual source. Listening to it for the first time, it was impossible not to think of Bob Dylan; I’d imagine there are probably worse things that could be said about you as a musician. It’s folksy, of course, but I’d say that’s to be expected from a gravelly-voiced guy singing with an acoustic guitar. Besides, the world could use a little more folksy every now and then, if you ask me.
My biggest problem with The Tallest Man On Earth is that I’m not sure there’s much place for it in my life as “everyday” music. Being as lyrically focused as it is, I would love to see him play a cozy little place with a stage a foot off the ground 10 feet . But if I’m at work or writing (concentrating on something else, in other words), it all fades into a kind of similar-sounding guitar-plucking stream on my subconsciousness picks up on. On a couple of occasions last week, I found myself at the end of the CD without realizing I’d missed most of it.
Then again, maybe that’s just me and some undocumented attention deficit disorder.
Regardles, if the worst thing I can say about it, though, is that it’s a bit of music that you really need to listen to, well, I’d say that’s not so bad.
That’s really kind of the whole theme of tunes testing, to be honest.
Pud’n
Tunes Test Tuesday: Manic Street Preachers
This one’s been in the works for a while, and I apologize for not getting it done in a more timely manner last week. I’m pretty sure I’ve said this about most of the TTT posts already, but when I chose the Manic Street Preachers, I had absolutely no idea how deep the well would run. To some degree, I still don’t.
The original recommendation for the Manic Street Preachers came from one of my oldest friends, who has been serious about music since back when I was buying whatever Tiffany was selling because, well, did you see Tiffany*? She had red hair and curves and, well, I was, like, 14.
Hey, don’t judge pubescent me. The shame burns enough as it is every time I happen across that old cassette in my special shoe box. What? Of course I still have it…oh, hey, you know what…never mind.
Ahem. Anyway, as I was saying, the original album suggested for my Preachers research was The Holy Bible. From what I’ve read, it’s supposed to be dark and bleak and garnered quite a bit of critical acclaim.
Unfortunately, it was never released in the US. That’s not to say I couldn’t probably get a hold of it somehow, but, as I’ve said, I believe in actually paying for the music I listen to. My other alternative, going on a hunt for an import copy of the CD is, sadly, not something I have time for these days**.
I did manage to listen to three of the 13 tracks from that album, She Is Suffering, Revol, and Faster. That was enough to confirm what I’d read. But, of course, that wasn’t enough for me by a long shot.
The one after it, Everything Must Go (1996), was the band’s most commercially successful release and is a very different animal than The Holy Bible. That should come as no real surprise, though, because the previous album was heavily influenced by rhythm guitarist and lyricist Richey Edwards (James). Unfortunately, he was plagued by mental illness, which ultimately led to his disappearance in 1995. His car was found, abandoned, near the Severn Bridge in Bristol, which was known for suicide.
The surviving members of the Preachers pressed on without Edwards, and Everything Must Go was their first release as a trio.
In my very lay opinion, his presence is missed. The band’s work since, especially the aforementioned Everything Must Go and it’s follow-up, This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours (1999), are certainly competent, but tend to have a more pop-like feel and somewhat lighter focus. Send Away The Tigers (2007) and Know Your Enemy (2009) seem to shift back towards rock and are generally edgier, but not to the same degree as the Preacher’s early work. It isn’t until 2009′s Journal for Plague Lovers that some of that original darkness returns, which makes sense given that each track features lyrics left by Edwards.
As you can see, it seems I bit off a lot to chew in a week or even two. I’ve listened to nearly every Manic Street Preachers album produced between 1995 and 2009 (I confess I haven’t gotten to National Treasures or Lipstick Traces, yet), and the only thing I know for certain at this point is that I need (or want) to listen to most of it more. That’s especially true for the later releases. Everything Must Go and This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours, though, seem like the kind of albums I’d only queue up in the right mood.
Lyrically and topically, the Preachers have been on quite a journey over the past twenty years. While that’s mostly evident, I’ve only picked up on it in a contextual sense; I couldn’t go into much detail about what each song is really about. In other words, there’s undoubtedly an awful lot I’ve missed as I’ve been trying to drink from the Manic Street Preachers’ fire hose these past couple of weeks. Especially considering that their lyrics aren’t always easy to follow or disassemble. They are Welsh, after all, and have a unique style of squeezing words into a piece of music that can be challenging to say the least.
In the end, I think it’s safe to say that the Manic Street Preachers aren’t the rock and rollers intent on bringing back the revolution that they were when they started out. But then, it’s equally safe to say that hardly anyone else really is, either. Bands must evolve over time, or quite simply, just don’t last over that time.
And in this case, I’d say that the evolution was pretty successful, rough patches and all.
Pud’n
*Hey, look at that, Tiffany put out new albums in 2003 and 2011. Score!
**Of course, I happened to think of it today, and it appears to be available on iTunes.
Tunes Test Tuesday: The Joy Formidable
As opposed to the previous acts for Tunes Test Tuesday posts, I had no idea what to expect when I went looking for trakcs by The Joy Formidable. Someone on Twitter suggested them to me when I first asked for recommendations (thanks!), and I chose it one for this week because it came with the advice that I should start with something simple.
At this point, though, I’m not sure The Joy Formidable is simple.
The Joy Formidable is a UK (in this case that’s the United Kingdom, kids, not the University of Kentucky) group that formed in Wales in 2007. Apparently, they drew heavily from "noisy alt-rock" and something called "shoegaze"* to form their new sound.
While I’ll certainly agree that TJF’s sound fits very well with my thinking of noisy alt-rock, I’ll be the first to tell you that I have no earthly idea what "shoegaze" is supposed to mean.
It brings to mind some wallflower emo teen staring at his shoes and trying to hide.
And that’s not what I think of when listen to their work.
Most of the music from The Joy Formidable somewhat aggressive and driving, but not overly so. In other words, I can feel it, there’s some metal foundation in there, but it doesn’t make cringe. By and large, it sounds well-produced, but whereas last week’s group, The Black Keys, were almost exclusively guitar-and-drums, we’ve got quite a range of instrumentation and electronics at work here. To some degree, it reminds me a little of Garbage circa Version 2.0, but then again, I’m not sure I’m musically adept enough to make comparisons. There’s a bit of symphonic sense about it, too.
The vocals, mostly handled by Ritzy Bryan, often have something of a choral aspect layered in the with driving alt-rock lines. It’s like…well, have you seen The Fifth Element? In a weird kind of way, they’re reminiscent of what you’d get from the Diva Plavalaguna if her whole show had been amped up to 11 with a louder, more computer-driven alt-y score.
The bottom line is that I very much enjoyed The Joy Formidable, and I’d love to see them play live. Unfortunately, I’m not sure how often I’ll listen to them day to day. The way the tracks are laid down, the music drowns out the vocals at lower volumes. That’s great for the overall effect, but it’s not so good for me, because while it may not be the case with everyone, I need to be able to hear the lyrics.
Words are kind of important to me, you know.
The problem, then, is that with the volume up high enough to really hear everything, it’s too loud to just be in the background. In fact, in order to really do it justice while listening this week for the Tunes Test Tuesday post, I had to break out the earphones at work.
I hate the earphones.
The point here is I’d never be able work on software – let alone write anything – while listening to "The Big Roar", the first (and so far, only) full-length album from The Joy Formidable. That said, it would be an awesome album to crank up in the car or around the house while giving the family room a minimal enough cleaning to appease the Puddinet—err—your wife.
Was The Joy Formidable "starting simple"? Well, not really, but I don’t know that anything would have been. What I do know is that either way, it was a great place to start. With familiar but not derivative musical roots (not matter what "shoegaze" is) and choral-yet-still-kinda-pop vocals, it’s a lot of fun and a great overall listen. I’m kind of sad I can’t go crank it up in the car right now, actually.
If you’re looking for something that begs to be loud, you’d do well looking here.
And if you’re not looking for something like that, well, why not?
Pud’n
*Reference from Spotify’s Biography page for the group.
Tunes Test Tuesday: The Black Keys
The original idea behind Tunes Test Tuesday was to expose myself (not that way, sicko) to a new album, er, record, wait, CD, no, it’s a…well, damn, what do you call them nowadays? It’s not really a record or CD – the "D" standing for disc, a round physical object, if you’re too young to remember those things – if it just appears magically on your computer from the invisible tunnels of the interwebs.
I guess I’ll stick with "album".
Anyway, the original idea was to try out one new album every week of 2012, and maybe even beyond. And yet, here we are, only at week 2, and I’m already screwing up the system.
Because this week, one album wouldn’t do it. Nope, this week, I had to listen to pretty much everything The Black Keys have ever made.
Truth be told, I wasn’t sure exactly where to start this week as the world is full of performers I’m not acquainted with. As luck would have it, though, when I posted a tweet that I was debating my options, mentioning The Black Keys – a two-man group originally consisting of only guitar and drums – one of my contacts gave me the heads up to start with their 2003 release, Thickfreakness, rather than with the latest stuff.
And damn if I’m not glad he did.
I really liked Thickfreakness and the album before it, The Big Come Up. My understanding is that all the The Black Keys’ early albums were produced by themselves, indie-style. One can only assume that took place in the proverbial suburban garage. The sound is a little rough, and I struggled a bit to catch the lyrics in their early works, but that’s mostly my fault. As I’ve said before, music is something I’ve always tended to have on in the background. And to really give a piece it’s due, one ought to actually listen.
When I did start to listen, though, I was hooked. I’ve always been a sucker for blues guitar, but my exposure to it’s been pretty limited. Before this week, I don’t know that I’ve ever heard anything with as much sheer bluesy power as The Black Keys. If you said to me, "Blues Rock", it is almost exactly the sound my mind would fuse together.
In fact, within 15 minutes of firing up Thickfreakness, I thought to myself how awesome it would have been to hear The Black Keys killing tracks from it in a sweaty, seedy, little club packed shoulder to shoulder and reeking with the stench of old cigarette smoke and stale beer.
But that might just be me. I make up scenes in my head, you know.
What I find even more interesting is the contrast between the older albums and the newer. Attack & Release (2008) was produced in an actual studio with an actual producer, Danger Mouse, for a major label and was followed by Brothers in 2010. Both have been commercially successful and get outstanding reviews.
Truth be told, though, they don’t light my fire. Sure, there are tracks I enjoy. Overall, though, the feeling is different. A little more bluesy, maybe, definitely more soulful, but, well, less rock. With a few exceptions, both albums just lack the same overall power I mentioned before. That’s fine, though, really; it demonstrates a necessary evolution for the band. It just doesn’t get my blood pumping. I don’t know that I’ll ever listen to either again from start-to-finish.
Turning on to The Black Keys this week has been something of an adventure for me and potentially even points to my own growth musically. In the past, I’ve pretty much been the poster child for buying whatever Corporate Music wanted me to. I’ve committed all the sins: buying an CD for one song and never listening to it, being snookered all the way to the cash register by the suggestively pretty girl on an album cover, allowing Top-40 radio to tell me what I liked even though I had no idea what else was out there. Hell, I even bought a Spice Girls (Girlz? I can’t remember.) CD once.
Mostly, my past behaviors can be blamed on the fact that music has largely been a secondary thing in my mind for the latter part of my life. It might play in the background, it might not, but I rearely really thought about it and certainly never actually listened.
Well, I started listening again this week with The Black Keys. Admittedly, their music isn’t something I want to hear every day – I think it’ll be one of those mood kinda things – and their newer stuff doesn’t compel me to pay attention quite like the older albums do. But it’s shown me that yes, I can hear and feel the difference between contrasting production methods and believe it or not, sometimes the rougher cuts can be more evocative, even preferred, over ones that are more tightly, smoothly made.
And sometimes, it all comes down to whether or not the listener is actually listening.
Maybe there’s hope for me yet.
Pud’n
Tunes Test, um, Friday: Tron: Legacy by Daft Punk
Often you don’t really know what you’re getting into when you embark on something new in life. For instance, I couldn’t really give anyone, not even my long-suffering wife, an idea of what might happen with the new music blogging nonsense I’ve decided to try. This little adventure could end up a sparkling success – not to be mistaken for a sparkling emo-vampire, which is both lame AND nonexistent as everyone knows vampires are totally all violent and blood-thirsty – but it could just as well crash and burn in a display of pyrotechnic glory that would make even the Rozzi family envious.
If you asked me a few weeks ago, I’d have said the odds were good that when I sat down each week to pen a few words about my chosen new musical experience, I’d end up staring off in to space, slack-jawed and drooling like that one kid in middle-school history class.
But not this week, thank goodness. This week’s new music pick was Tron: Legacy by Daft Punk. And yes, I totally stacked the odds in my favor right out of the gate.
See, the thing is, strictly speaking this CD isn’t new to me. I mean, it’s from a movie. A movie I’ve seen. More than once. So, you know, one might expect the music to be at least somewhat familiar.
If you’re expecting the music to be full of synthesizers, electronic chirps, beeps, and rhythms, etc, since you know, that both kind of goes with the film and matches Daft Punk’s style, you’d be right. But that’s not all this is. I lack the proper vocabulary to describe it well, but it’s more sweeping than just that; more orchestral(?). That probably doesn’t help much, but the point is you don’t get the feeling you’re in some dark London underground techno club thrum-thrum-booming along one track after another. Which is good, because I left all my fluorescent stuff back in the states.
The question, though, is what did I think of it by itself, separated from the weighty encumbrance of plot, theme, characterization, and visualization. You know, that niggling, inconvenient "movie stuff." Did it stand on its own without the structure provided by the film to hold it together, or was it lacking shape and form like a shirtless middle-aged software engineer?
Well, in my opinion, questionable as it may be, the album does just fine all by its lonesome. In fact, with the exception of the second track, "The Grid", which includes a short snippet of Jeff’s Bridges’ dialog, I rarely even think of the movie when I’ve got this one rolling through the play queue.
For me, the best part about Tron: Legacy is also its biggest drawback: it’s perfect for when I’m writing. That came as something of a huge, and welcome, surprise because I’d given up on ever listening to music while making up words. Lyrics always somehow get tangled up with the words I want to write, and ultimately, I end up singing to myself while staring blankly at that damned incessant blinking cursor.
Nobody wins in that case. My singing voice is the envy of night-crooning alley cats everywhere; I don’t need to be singing to anyone, anytime, anyplace. And yes, that includes even alone to myself. Especially if I should be writing instead.
The best part is that not only does Tron: Legacy rule as tunes to work with, but it also made me realize I don’t have to toil in the vacuum of a sound-proof room if I choose not to. My world has just opened up to a universe of instrumental bodies of work.
What’s the drawback, then? Well, ever since having my epiphany, I’ve mostly done exactly that, listening to the CD in the background as I work. Which means that while I know I enjoy it, I don’t know it as well as I might. I can’t name each track and I don’t, in most cases, recognize what’s coming next when one track ends.
But you know what, I’ve only been listening to it for a few weeks now. That kind of intimate familiarity will come in time, assuming its finds its way into my play queue with regularity.
And yeah, I have a feeling that won’t be a problem. Tron: Legacy by Daft Punk is a keeper.
Pud’n
Tunes Test Tuesday: Christmas by Michael Bublé
So, the plan was to start Tunes Test Tuesday today with an in-depth appraisal of the Tron: Legacy soundtrack by Daft Punk. I totally could write that now because I’ve been listening to it for two weeks.
But here’s the thing: I don’t really have time today to do it justice, and I don’t want my first official Tunes Test Tuesday post to be rushed and full of nonsense.
Well, I guess any post I pen is likely to be chock full of more nonsense than, um, sense, but at least I usually mean well.
At any rate, I don’t have time because I’ve got this other, very special project I’m working on at the moment. It’s one of those things where I had this crazy idea and then squeed in word nerdy delight. After that, though, I went, “Wait, that’s full-blown tilting-at-windmills-crazy.” So I asked for a second opinion, but apparently chose the wrong person to ask because they liked the idea too.
So now I’ve got this crazy project to do that I’m thrilled about, but comes with a fair piece of work. I’ll fill you in on it on Wednesday, I promise.
Anyway, so, instead of a real Tunes post, I decided this would be a great time for a preview post. I’d figured I’d give a quick listen to a new Christmas CD and drop a nickel’s worth of opinion. Yes, a nickel. Inflation and all.
Inspired by his appearance on the Saturday Night Live Christmas episode this past weekend, I figured why not check out Christmas by Michael Bublé.
Now, I’m betting that somebody out there is, right at this very moment, ripping off his muscle shirt and throwing a nondescript can of beer across the room in disgust. Because I guess listening to Bublé is a Man Card revoking offense.
But you know what? A) the guy can flat sing – which is a trait I kind of appreciate in a vocalist – and b) my Man Card’s been gone for a long time; so what do I care?
All that aside, I’ve been on the lookout for a go-to Christmas CD for a long time. See, when the time comes for tree-trimming and egg nogging and whatnot, I’m a traditionalist. Which means for home-filling carols, I go old school. I grew up with Johnny Mathis and Bing Crosby, two reliable guys would could flat bring it when it came to the holiday tunes.
And, man, those guys could sing. Their albums were full of solid, well made, not-heavily-produced nonsense tunes. Nowadays, though, it’s really hard to avoid anything that doesn’t seem to come with a kind of plastic-like odor.
So, did Bublé do the trick? Did he bring it a little old school? Yes, I really think he did. While I don’t love every track on Christmas by Michael Bublé, most of them are very solid and something I’d be happy to listen to every year when my chestnuts are roasting. Or whatever traditions you observe.
The first track, It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas, might be my favorite version of the song ever, and Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas is close too. Admittedly, though, nothing is perfect, and that’s the case here as well. The White Christmas duet with Shania Twain is just odd; she sounds very much like she’s yodeling. And while I definitely prefer this version of Santa Baby, musically, that’s not a song I ever needed to hear performed by a dude.
Overall though, even with a few head-scratching tracks, I found Christmas by Michael Bublé a very enjoyable holiday album. And for a seasonal CD produced after 1980, it’s positively gold star.
I recommend it and, if you’re looking for a little croonification, Michael Bublé highly.
Now, has anyone seen my pants?
This skirt is kind of chilly.
Pud’n
Tunes Test Tuesday: The Tools
It’s Tuesday! Obviously, that means it’s time for the first of many "Tune Test Tuesday" posts, right? You know, that thing I was talking about last week where I buy a new album/8-track/CD (or whatever the kids are putting music on these days) and then give it the Puddintopia treatment?
Um, yeah, not quite. So, just whoa there, big fella. Rome wasn’t built in a day and neither am I ready to just jump up and start rambling nonsense about music.
Not that I am now or ever will be qualified to ramble about music, but that’s neither here nor there. I’m pretty sure the Johnny Fives aren’t ever going to see a drop in album sales because Puddin said their debut album, "Number Five is Alive" was "lifeless, tepid, and as robotic as a Steve Guttenberg movie.*"
My qualifications notwithstanding, before I could really move forward, I needed to decide how I was going to go about my weekly exposure to the new. Why? Why not just belly-flop into the one-new-CD a week pool and see how big the splash gets? Well, because believe it or not, buying new music every week isn’t exactly cheap.
I know, I know. It’s unfathomable that someone like myself, with all the cache, influence, and (obviously) cash that comes with being Puddin, could possibly be so crass as to belittle this journey of musical exploration with material concerns. It’s about growth! It’s about experience! It’s about opening your mind!
Actually, it’s about $10.99-12.99 a week. No, it doesn’t seem like much, but over the course of a year – which is the minimum amount of time I expect to be doing this – that’s not an insignificant pile of greenbacks. And sure, it’s a tax deduction for the blog. But it turns out that if you don’t make anything, there’s nothing to deduct from.
Once again, the US Government stands in my way, foiling all my grandiose, nefarious plans!
So then, for Tunes Test Tuesday to work and not cut too deeply into my beer budget (because the Puddinette tells me it’s not coming out of her budget for things like milk, eggs, and cheese until I sprout wings and become the Chancellor of Jupiter’s Giant Red Storm), a cost effective way to access all this new music will be helpful.
Oh, and I’m kind of a rules guy. I believe creative types, musicians included – yes, even the rich ones – should get their due for all the blood, sweat, tears, and toil they put into their art. I’d think that even if I wasn’t a pretend writer.
In other words, no, thank you, I’m not stealing music from the interwebs, even as I know how to go about it.
Thankfully, we live in future. And here in the future, in addition to magical hand-held phones which people use to write messages while simultaneously letting the government track its own people, we have music subscription services. And I don’t mean that Columbia House thing where you pick 8 CDs for a penny and then spend the rest of your natural life declining the Pick of the Month, which seems to be "William Shatner ‘Live!’" with disturbing frequency.
So, after comparing the options available, I decided to give Spotify Premium a try. It is the new, coo thing, after all. It also impressed the hell outta me with it’s mobile integration. Thus, I’m rockin’ a 30-day trial at the moment, and so far it’s exactly what I’m looking for. Assuming I end up keeping it, it’s significantly less cash than buying a new CD every week.
So I got that going for me, which is nice.
The tools then, are all in place. The time is upon us. Next week, there will be a post about new music in my life.
Unless I forget. Or, you know, get sidetracked listening to William Shatner "Live!" for the 300th time.
Pud’n
*Just because I’m curious, who sees what I did there?
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