What's this

I haven't looked at this place for so long.  So many things have happened since I last wrote.  Good things, average things.  Maybe we will catch up sometime.  At any rate, this photograph of my grandfather at 18 prompted me to return.  With some unknown person called "Two-bit," Grandpa is on right in his navy outfit. Sometime in 1944.

The Arcade Fire at Roy Wilkins

So, it worked out that I have been to the (Legendary) Roy Wilkins Auditorium twice now in three days to attend two wonderful concerts.
Here, I was confined to a balcony seat, because the tickets sold out alarmingly fast and that was the best I could get, but it was okay anyway.  Just less enjoyable, due to not being able to go crazy without the possibility of losing my footing and toppling down to presumably my death from up above. Also, the sound was a bit over-saturated (if you will), but Roy Wilkins is notorious for bad sound anyway so I wasn't very surprised at all.  But yes, it was okay.

Calexico was the opener, and not knowing any of their music, I would say it was pretty good.  Their style isn't exactly my main choice, but it was smooth, and nice to listen to.  The horns sounded great, and I enjoyed watching them. 

When the Arcade Fire finally came on, they were greeted by the expected screaming.   They opened with "Ready to Start" off the Suburbs (which, as I probably should have expected, they played lots of songs from.  I haven't really been feeling this album though, and I still haven't gotten around to purchasing it, so I was unfamiliar with a lot of the stuff. Oh well...).  Right after, Win yelled, "This is a song called 'No Cars Go,'" and we erupted.  Then shortly after, they played "Haiti."  It was a good start to the show, indeed.  The band was super-energetic, as I've heard, and they really put a lot of feeling into it.  Even if it's only for show, it gets the rest of us going too, and it's super fun, if not a little dangerous (my god, the way they launched those drumsticks into the crowd I'm surprised no one got speared).  It was a lot of fun, Regine was even dancing so hard the skirt of her dress flew up and we saw her butt.  And you, crazy Win, you get down from that piano.

So, as I was saying, they played a lot of Suburbs tunes, but they also played most of their older songs that I wanted to hear.  Although there was no "My Body is a Cage," they did play "Intervention," my other favorite from Neon Bible and "Neighborhood #3 (Power Out)" one of my very favorites from Funeral (Win prefaced it by pleading with us, "I know you're all tired, I know you have work tomorrow, but please, please, just give me something for this one." And we did).

The encore was great, beginning with "Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)," another personal favorite of mine, and finishing off the night with "Wake Up."  This was really a pretty good show.  Honestly, I wasn't expecting all that much because I had been a bit disappointed with The Suburbs and I was beginning to wonder how much I really liked this band anymore, but I was very impressed.  I still like them, and that's good.

The Flaming Lips!

Went to my first Flaming Lips show on the 19th at Roy Wilkins with my mom.  Excellent! 

It really lived up to all the hype you hear about F'Lips shows.  It was absolutely awesome, in the real sense of the word. 

We got there, and the crowd was really pretty young and friendly.  Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti opened, and although I commend them for trying, I can't say I really liked them at all.  Too much synth, too much awful, if you ask me.  But that didn't matter; they kept the set fairly short.  Wayne kept peeping out during it, too, just to make us more antsy.
So then they set up the elaborate F'Lips stage, what with nets full of large balloons swelling up from behind and confetti guns and aliens and everything.  Wayne kept coming out, smiling, assuring us that he loves us too, and being an all-around coolguy.  Finally everything was ready, and he announced a sort of disclaimer thing regarding the strobe lights, and shortly then after the show began! Whee!

So, the balloons and confetti were released, and they came out from behind the screen with the yellow dancing woman (whee!) and got in their places and Wayne got in his bubble.  And then he rolled out onto us.  It's such a strange feeling, to be looking above, and seeing the soles of Wayne's shoes, and realizing that he's standing on top of you, in a bloody plastic bubble.  It's rather insane, I'd say.  Brilliant though. We pushed him back to stage, and they started playing some songs.  A lot of their newer ones, but they also played "She Don't Use Jelly," to which everyone sang/yelled along.  I enjoyed the theatrics, what with the strobes and bear-costumed man giving Wayne a piggy-back ride, the green laser hands, the wonderful use of darkness, Woo Hoo!, the video backdrop, everything.  It was really quite a trip.   Everything was so fun, the jumping the dancing and singing.  Good stuff.  For encore, they played the Yeah Yeah Yeah Song and Do You Realize?, both of which were extended and very good for the singing along.  When it was all said and done, the place was a huge mess, and people were lingering around, dancing amongst the garbage all over the floor.  It was great!

Optometry.

Adventures in Space and Time with the Apples in Stereo

It's strangely apt that the Apples' new theme is time travel, because Saturday the night of May day sure happened fast, almost as if compressed in time.  Story time.

In all likeliness, I wasn't going to be going to this concert.  Just another age-restricted Turf Club show.  I really wanted to go though.  A good acquaintance suggested that I contact Robert to see if he could do any pulling of strings for me, and so I did.  He directed me toward his lovely wife Marci, to whom I am forever indebted for all the kind things she did for me.  Marci and I kept of sporadic correspondence until the very night of the show, where she sent me a last e-mail about 50 minutes before mom and I were going to leave that sealed the deal of getting in.  We got our things gathered in a great tizzy and left to go to the show.

So we got to University Ave., and basically just wandered and waited until the time came.  I made serious eyes at the wonderful Bill Doss in the CVS store, but I don't think he realized I recognized him.  I saw the kids of Laminated Cat (who, as it turned out, were a nice bunch too).  When the time came, we sent the deciding text to Marci, saying "Hello, this is nicole, we are here, we are in front. You are wonderful!" and about 15 seconds later, we spotted Marci and Robert through the window and coming out the door to come meet us. Wow!

First impulse of mine was to hug the pair, and so I did, and shook their hands.  Robert commented, "Nice Music Tapes shirt!" and flashed his lovely white smile, and I melted a little bit.  They led us in, where we found out they had actually put me on their guest list (oi!) and really weren't even expecting me to have a ticket.  Amazed I was, and Robert then announced, "We're gonna go eat," and so mom and I were left alone again, completely floored.

Sitting at the bar, I basically looked around dumbfounded and overjoyed to be there, and listened to Laminated Cat mic check for a while.  Robert walked by later and spoke with us again, and then soon enought LC began their set. 

Not knowing much about them, I honestly enjoyed LC.  Basically, they are a group of some talented young kids who like to make psychedelic rock music, and play it well.  Robert stood solitary in the middle of the floor, watching them like a proud father, for the majority of their set.  I really enjoyed this band, and ended up purchasing their two CDs afterward.  Very polite indeed: the bassist smiled widely at me as he walked by; my mom told the front man (whose voice I really quite love) he did a really nice job, and he just smiled and looked in her eyes and said "Thank you very much"; and the guitarist said to me afterward, "I like your shirt.  A lot." (Gee--I claim to like these guys and I can't even remember their names off hand.  I am an awful person).  Anyway, Laminated Cat is a cool bunch, definitely worth checking out.  They finished their set, and the first middle waiting time commenced.
   Generationals!  I only really knew them from the radio, but they were pretty cool. 
More on this soon...

Festival of Nations

Today I visited the 2010 Festival of Nations over in St. Paul and had a nice crowded time. As always, there were hordes of people there, which gets on my nerves in trying to walk but also is nice in seeing such diversity.

Largely, the bazaar and cafe are where it's at. So of course, I spent a lot of time looking around at all the little buyables that are supposedly representative of their respective country (which, in many cases, aren't, but likewise in many are-- the Matryoshkas, for example). I ended up at the Tibet stand, where I bought a cute little knit hat (although summer is on its way) and a beaded bracelet. There I spoke to an older fellow from Tibet from whom I got the sense that he'd really like to go back but "(sigh)" he really cannot, "because China."  He was really a kind old man and pressed my hand warmly before I left, and I was happy to have spoken to an interesting person.

Speaking of interesting persons, I continued ambling along through the stands, and I spotted a blanketed instrument obviously of Indian origin.  I didn't know what it was, so I sort of stood and stared until the women took notice, then I asked them.  As it turns out, it's a veena, the ancient cousin of the sitar, and the national instrument of India.  They are 2000 years old and have a nice unique sound.  The woman who led the troupe of veena players and others was one Ms. Nirmala Rajasekar, who coincidentally was going to be playing that day a small set, so I went to watch her.  She was quite friendly, and really quite good, and reassured me that sitar "really isn't that complicated."  I'll take her word for it..

The Scary Zone

Halloween, with eerie sixties twilight zone-esque family photos. I wish everyone much fright.

Furry eared things and other interesting bits.

I have a new object of affection. She's named Pebbles, and she's the sweetest little baby bunny ever. I love her so much. And she's getting fat.
I've been having such an unhealthy obsession with books as of late. I love books, I love them. I love everything about them, I love reading them, and holding them in my hands, I love their smells. It's just so good. I want to read so many, so many. There's not time enough though right now, I'm afraid. So many books I want to get in; I don't even know about half of them yet, I'm sure. I want to be the keeper of an enormous library full of books in every language of every genre. That would be so very wonderful.
It has been making so much wind here, I flew a kite last week. It was so amazing. There were stormy gusts of wind to knock one over, and they caught themselves under that kite and took it as far as the string allowed. We really did run out of string. It was so high above the trees, it could have been a hazard to air traffic. It really was just the best. You know, I believe that it was the Chinese who invented the kite. The Chinese invented lots, they often don't get the credit, though (I'm looking at you, movable-type being credited to Gutenberg). But I digress. Either way, I recommend kite-flying to you, regardless of your opinions on movable-type.

Birthday!

Today is my birthday, WOO! In honor of the holiday (heh), I have for you my favorite birthday party photo ever, directly from the Grandparents' archives..

There's old Antonio, little Marc the man of the hour, Mary, and Gary. For me, this is just the best photo... look at those kids' faces! Their eyes and smiles are so cute and they say so much. Regretfully, I think that the poor old clown cake got brutally cut and eaten shortly after having this photo taken, but you know, I never get tired of looking at this one.

The Breeders at the Fine Line

Went to see the Breeders again yesterday, and they really never fail to amaze me. This show was arguably even better than last year's... and that's saying something. Maybe it's because I was directly under Kim for this one...
They opened with "Hoverin'," while Kim manned the snare (well, mostly-- I know your drumroll secret, Kim) and sang. Kim and Kelley are as cool as ever. They're a perfectly polite and amiable pair. I love them both. Cheryl seems well acclamated now, as well. She handled herself surprisingly well when Kelley ripped out one of her red dreadlocks. Plan on seeing a Kelley Deal bag with an ratty old red dread for the handle in the future. Mando and Jose didn't talk much, as usual, but they played their instruments phenomenally (like always). There was no lack of variety with songs from every album, plus Amps. Their sets are always great... they don't neglect their older albums like some bands will. The Breeders, they've got it down. They know how to put on a great show, and they do everytime.

P.S.--I love you Kim, and I'm happy I got to experience you spitting on me!

Creepy Skull Cloud

The bony face, can you see it? An omen, maybe? Dear me, I hope not.

Conglomeration

First: Let us wish our dear Nelson Mandela happy birthday. Happy 91st, Madiba! You're a hero!

Next: Going to see the Breeders again on August the 11th. I'm getting pretty ecstatic about that. Plus, I learned how to properly open a banana--hint, try pinching the other side. I've been playing my saw on the roof and I got a pair of sunglasses at the antique store for 400 cents that make me look like Dr. Strangelove and I've begun the construction of my tiny cardboard house. Lots of things I've done.

And, I have gotten through most of one of the grandparents' photo albums, which I dubbed the Brown Album. Sounds like a Beatles or Weezer type of name, doesn't it. This one was filled with zillions of old ones of my grand-relatives and their relatives and it is all just brilliant. Here I have

a couple of my favorites. On the left is my late Uncle Butch (recall?) holding a rat he caught. The little mobster on the right is my Grandpa Tony, whom I idolize, standing ring with a huge pile of wood making for a picturesque backdrop. These are circa 1935 or 36, making Butch and Grandpa around 13 and 9 years old, respectively.

Honestly, I never get tired of looking at these. Maybe it's just a personal obsession, but when I look at them it's like visiting an alternate space, and I try to piece that these are the people I know. Time, man, it's a bloody spaceship. I'll put up more of these soon, hopefully.

Out of the Archives

I am beginning a great effort this summer to copy all my grandparents' old photos into digital. The idea began this year while searching for a single photo of my great-grandfather Antonio, when I was shown album after album after album of wonderful old photos of my predecessors, most of whom I never got to meet! To me, it's some sort of trove; hundreds of fading, black-and-whites that show the people who've put me here. It's both an aesthetic pleasure as well as a historical one. It's all there, but it's vulnerable, too. I wouldn't want some freak accident (volcanic eruption, alien invasion, return of the super-ape) to go and ruin them all. And so begins my quest...

For Your Reading Pleasure

My grandparents just returned from vacationing in Israel a few weeks ago, (a gutsy move right now, wouldn't you say?) and brought back for me a souvenir Israeli newspaper, plus a German one from their Frankfurt layover stop.
Anyway, here are some samples:

Of course, I'm sad to say that I don't know a lick of either language, but I get this child-like fascination with things I don't see everyday. That probably sounds a tad geekish. Ah well, I can still look at the pictures.

Simple X

I found this old school bell in a desolate corner of my high school a bit ago. Not only does it conjure nostalgia for me, it also bears the name of a dandy song by Dosh and/or Andrew Bird, so it caught my eye. I'm not sure if I should say it is by Dosh or Andrew Bird though. I know Martin Dosh wrote the original song, but that's called 'Simple Exercises,' whereas the one with Andrew's voice and lyrics is actually called 'Simple X.'

Either way, what I'm not so smoothly trying to segue into is the news that the mum and I are going to see Mr. Bird again in April! Cannot wait. I can't give my opinion on his latest Noble Beast (mostly because I haven't gotten to the record store to buy it), but I'm sure it's brilliant, like most everything he's done. I liked the singles that I've heard, so here's to hoping the rest of the CD is good too.
And for what my little praising and recommendation is worth, go visit both artists on their websites:
Dosh. and Andrew Bird.

Of the Lost and Found

I found this handsome bass in my basement last night for the first time. How long have we had this? Years, apparently. Oi! I had no idea. It's really quite lovely, and I hope I'll have time to play it up soon.

It's been a while since I was last here. I will try to come back more, although I know I'm writing essentially to myself. But I've been known to do that anyway. I like it. Now it's just electronic, too. But I haven't forsaken my old ways, oh no.

Well, to end on a sour note, my great uncle Butch has died. He's gone to sleep in my memory, and now his back and hip doesn't have that itch. Many found him to be aloof, which he was, but if you did get to talk to him, it was nothing but a pleasure. I enjoyed his company, myself. He was the only person I have known who could pet those chipmunks.

A Dinosaur and an Old Radio

Man, that dino's swanky.

Pumpkolantern

This is my pumpkin for this year. How nice!

An Orange Door

Spilled Milk