5 posts tagged “music”
Audio: Share the most embarrassing song on your mp3 player.
Oooh.
Could it be....this?
Or...This? (I blame YOU, Napoleon Dynamite!)
I'm gonna have to go with ..... this:
DAMN you, Veronica Mars! I would never have HEARD of this song if that 11 year old hadn't called the radio station 200 times to request this to get LoVe back together! Argh.
I'm currently obsessed with the Veronica Mars Station on Pandora.
To give you a taste of the music, here's a sampling:
Depeche Mode - Precious (Live)
Air - Run
Mandalay - Beautiful (7" Canny Mix)
Pooka - Yellow Fever
Blue Stone - Falling
The Push Stars - Claire
Mike Doughty - I Hear The Bells (of course)
The Dandy Warhols - We Used To Be Friends (again, of course)
Lali Puna - 40 Days
DJ Krush - Alepheuo (truthspeaking)
Motorcycle - As The Rush Comes Out (Gabriel and Dresden Chill Out Mix)
Mount Sims - Ashes
Hungry Lucy - Could It Be?
The Foxymorons - Harvard Hands
Counting Crows - Miami (Live)
And so on and so forth. LOVE.
Even though work has been going much better lately (although I still haven't gotten ahold of the manager at New Restaurant to try and get hired there), tonight was simply not that great.
First I waited in line for over an hour to get into the last free concert that our indie station was holding at The Hammer Museum because previous shows had been easey peasey to get into and I very foolishly eschewed using the parking garage beneath the museum and spent another 15 minutes trying (unsuccessfully) to find cheaper parking. In that 15 minutes? A line stretched around the building. My usual hookups for VIP access? One was sick, the other's wife was having a baby. I ended up missing Seawolf, who I'd mainly been interested in seeing, although Midnight Movies was pretty awesome. Two girls, two guys, and the lead girl switched from playing keyboard to drums to tambourine to guitar all night. The second girl, equally talented, jumped from drums to guitar to FLUTE throughout the evening.
Although I ended up going by myself (Another story all together), I had a decent time. It being free, however, ensures that a couple crazies come out of the woodwork. One guy around early 50s, shorter and grizzled holding a diet Pepsi bottle and wearing a full black backpack was grooving and high fiving everyone around him. If it didn't work, he'd try low fiving them, then would move blithely on to the next person. About midway through the set, he pushed his way up to the front and (successfully) tried to high five everyone in the band, also. While security kept an eye on him, he didn't cause too much trouble. A girl squeezed her way around and took a Polaroid picture of him at the end of a song. The guy next to me and I debated for a while if it was for posterity, the radio station's website or the museum's security division.
More interesting was during the last song of the night when an average height 30-something tapped us on the shoulder, obviously making his way toward the front with a little bit of vagueness in his eyes.
"Do you mind if I dance up there to the last song?"
Mutely we shook our heads and let him pass, as did most of the people in front of us, until he hit previously mentioned Older Drunk Guy. New Crazy Guy attempted to do his vague Crazy Routine, but Drunk Guy was having none of it. We briefly entertained hopes of a knock down crazy fight, but to no avail. Instead, it became more of a grooving dance off, which was almost as fun, watching them both sway back and forth with a sublime smile on their faces.
Producer also did not show, a fact which I staved off texting him about until I got home. Turns out he was sick too. Fine.
I get home and greet my roommate, who promptly and tiredly says she doesn't really feel like talking. I oblige and wish her a good night, yet start some water boiling for a midnight snack.
When I come back out of my room to check on it, she's just started what sounds like a lengthy phone conversation.
I see. It's not that you didn't feel like talking, you just didn't feel like talking to ME.
Got it.
On a different note, I am currently in the middle of both The Count of Monte Cristo and the final Harry Potter. I am at a loss as to which I will continue, but I'd put money towards the wizards at the moment. Brain candy sounds like a very good idea.
Mood: melancholy
Listening to: Dear Lover - Foo Fighters
I ended up getting out of the Hannah Montana shoot at only 2:30, so after running to craft service and snagging a salad (mixed greens, avocado, carrots, chicken, tomatoes....I will say this for the pre-teen show, they got damn yummy crafty) for later and a sandwich for much later (ham and swiss, which I just finished eating), I headed back home to clean out my car and get it some much needed attention in the form of a wash and a trip to Discount Tires for their proffered sale price of $14.99 for an oil change.
All that left me just enough time to run home, hit the gym (yay!), shower and get ready to head out with Matt to the Hotel Cafe to see his friend Greg Laswell. The music is best described as gorgeously depressing; it's the type of music you'd hear in the background of the old WB shows when the main character had just had a massive fight with his/her significant other, yet still managed to have gorgeous hair. Still, the music is better than that. His song, Do What I Can, was written for his mom, who he cutely refers to as "The Lady". She was in the audience last night as well, which just added to the living-room feel of the performance. It was obvious quite a few friends and family members had turned out for the performance, but the rest of us were just as enthusiastic. All in all, the audience was great and the music was beautiful. I highly recommend you check out the myspace page.
Matt and I caught up with Greg about an hour and a half after the performance (we'd stayed to listen to the following act, Brian Wright and the Waco Tragedies. Brian's voice reminded me of the lead singer of Sister Hazel, but the band was decidedly more country. Very fun, and I didn't even want to stab my eyes out as is usually the case with country music. In fact, the song Falls County is quite beautiful.
Greg had quite obviously been steadily drinking since the end of the show, and took great delight in embarrassing the hell out of Matt. He made all sorts of inquiries as to us being there together, asking repeatedly if we'd 'french kissed' yet, a term which I haven't heard since I graduated the 8th grade. Ah drunk guys: the intellectual equivalent of sheep.
Yet I won't be hard on the guy, he seemed like he'd be great to talk to while sober. And like I said, the music was gorgeous.
Today is a clean-up day as my room looks like a nuclear holocaust took place. With clothes instead of people littered about. Wee!
Started getting sick (AGAIN) on monday, but keeping those poseur germs down with constant barrages of Airborne and whatever pseudoephedrine-containing medicine the pharmacy will actually let me HAVE these days.
In order to get cold medicine that WORKS, you have to go to the cold medicine aisle, yes? No, you have to go there, get a little teaser card, take that to the pharmacy, swipe your driver's license, sign electronically that you promise not to create a meth lab for shooting drugs directly into the eyeballs of small puppies and only THEN can your sniffling, stuffy head fever so I can get through my fucking DAY medicine be mine.
On a different note:
Hells YEAH! Can't wait for this album to come out.
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Also decided to go snowboarding on monday. This was a decent idea, except for the part where I ran out of sunscreen and told myself that my lower arms would be just FINE.
Instead, now I have the funkiest looking farmer tan EVER. There is a clear and solid line right through the middle of my elbow and circling all the way around. The weather has been so freakin warm lately that I was constantly pushing up my long sleeved thermal. My skin apparently has an issue with UVA rays. Luckily due to excess slathering of Aloe Gel with Lidocaine, there hasn't been any pain, but there have been quite a few odd looks. Particularly at a recent audition that required me to wear a tank top.
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The audition I had for the AT&T commercial went as well as can be expected. I was supposed to slow dance with a boy (a cute, tall drink of water carrying a motorcycle helmet named, get this, Tack) and be all dreamy and in happy happy lurve. Easy enough.
The strange thing was running into yet another blast from the past, another quite tall drink of water named Matt. (and when I say tall, I mean Yao Ming tall, Matt's at least 6'9). Matt graduated from my high school, although a year ahead of me, and was in the constant thick of things with Drama Club back in the day. He was ridiculously good at improv and always nice enough. He recognized my name, although not me right away. He looked exactly the same as I remember him, so I suppose that's a good thing. He's been out in Hollywood for four years and is on the same acting-track as myself.
Random.
We exchanged all the usual small talk, but were called away to different auditions. Probably a good thing as I have no inclination to try and meet up with him again, but fun to see him nonetheless. I wonder how he remembered me. I wasn't extremely good at theater, it took me until junior year that it required getting up and making the biggest fool out of myself possible, and by that point the drama clique was pretty well established.
Ah well, I was a better swimmer back then anyway :)
