Thursday, June 08, 2006

Where someone says 'fuck me,' someone else says 'okay'

As many of you know, when it comes to culture -- movies and music in particular--I'm a pretentious fuck. I'm probably (well, definitely, but I'll say probably just to be a bit modest) going to be filling that huge, filthy Feldheim box with a c(h)ock full of the best music you've ever sampled. It won't be whineyand it won't sound like fucking Iggy Pop.

I picked this first album because its in in my top 3 so far for this year and its been playing on my iPod and in my head for the past two months after supplanting the album I'm gonna review next. This album isn't pretentious, like my taste, but it is brilliant. Spencer Krug is the lead singer of Sunset Rubdown, a role he shares in another band of his that some of you may be familiar with: Wolf Parade. Krug's voice is haunting, with a drunken Bowie tinge to it that can be both forceful and tender at the same time.

Shut I'm Dreaming is dark and somber at times and triumphant at others, a mixture of guitar and keyboard driven tunes with accordions, glockenspiels and xylophones all thrown in—all in all its lovely. My suggestion is to listen to it at least twice because it took me two-plus listens for both Dark Side of the Moon and Kid A to catch on—not to say this is quite on that level, but its still fucking dope.

My next box installment will be from another man who is also a member of another critically acclaimed indie band and he's probably the best songwriter out there right now. That posting will be twice as long as this because there will undoubtedly be a Dylan discussion thrown in--yeah, he's that good. Till then I'll just try to continue making fun of as many of you as possible. Keep those stereotypes coming!

1 Comments:

Blogger Jafar said...

He says your name out loud;
At miniature rooms where no one’s found;
It’s a desperate sound.
Yo ho! The distant shore!
He stands his feet down
You hear his knuckles on your door.
He wants to send you drawings
Drawings of men with faithful hands
They will make such good boyfriends
He wants to tell you stories
Stories of boys who stomped their feet saying,
“Shut – shut up I am dreaming of places
Where lovers have wings.”

“I’ll meet you where the river forks;
When everyone else is dead
You’ll be safe on the water
We’ll be much younger, and we remember.
Yo ho! The distant shore!
I send my feet down—
Down do you hear knuckles
On your door. Do you understand
What I’m finding for? Oh,
Oceans never listen to us anyway.
Oceans never listen to us anyway.
And if I fall into the drink,
I will say your name, before I sink.
Oceans never listen to us anyway.

I’m afraid of the water;
I’m afraid of the sky.
I’m tired of waiting.
Oceans never listen to us anyway,
Oceans never listen to us anyway.
And if I fall into the drink,
I will say your name, before I sink.
So… don’t make a sound.
Don’t make a sound.

- I say well done sir. Krugness Obliterated.

8:28 PM, June 08, 2006  

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