Out of my Deppth

19 September 2011

Good evening you wonderful loves of my life.

Has it only been a day since we last spoke? Or since I last spoke at you? Who knows?

I promise to punctuate tonight’s posts with the songs shuffling through my music player. It’ll be just like you’re here with me.

“Yes, I am blind.” -Morrissey

Mr. Steven Patrick Morrissey may be blind, but at least he never spoke like a swashbuckler. (As far as I know.)

Some of my astutest (most astute?) readers may be aware today is a day commemorating the verbalizing of vagrants del mar. Yes, today is talk like a pirate day.

“By the end of the evening I was saying no doubt.” -The Cribs

No doubt I cannot stand this day. Someone actually spoke at me as if they were a pirate today. If you are thinking this is a good idea, let me remind you why it is never a good idea to celebrate talk like a pirate day aloud.

  • You are not a pirate (my apologies to our pirate readers, especially Capt. Edward Trenchmouth)
  • I am not a pirate (my apologies to myself if I am, in fact, a pirate)

Get your booty out of my face

 I am currently listening to “Luzerne” by The Trolleyvox, which is an album I reviewed when I was a reviewer at SLUG Magazine in Salt Lake City, UT. (The curious reader can even see an example of one of my reviews here. I will neither defend nor deride my insufferable, hyperbolic prose. If this review whets your whistle just search the site for “Joey P. Richards” and find some more.) However, the song on repeat-peat-peat-peat in my brain all day is “Love You Like a Love Song” by Selena Gomez & The Scene.  

In summation, I hate talk like a pirate day (so much so I refuse to write it properly), love Selena Gomez and am “holding out for that teenage feeling.” (Neko Case)

"I don't care, if forever never comes."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Headphones case

6 September 2011

Good after 10 PM (Eastern) loves and lovers and loyalists.

Music in headphones. Sometimes the only way to go. But not earbuds. (Like my canals need more pals.) Headphones. The kind that make you look like a real radio disc jockey.

Tonight’s obsession is The Hold Steady. I only own Separation Sunday and Heaven is Whenever, but the solid rock electric guitar is golden with the talk-sing vocals and lyrical storytelling.

When I feel the need to take the headphones experience up a notch I choose to put in post-Transmissions from The Satellite Heart Flaming Lips (especially The Embryonic).

With the need to send the songs directly to my brain, I ordered Scott Walker’s first four solo albums. My new music goal is to listen to his entire solo career in chronological order. I realize I need a method. So, I will listen to each album until is know every bit by heart. Until I hear the rhythms in my sleep. Only then will I move on.

Other albums worth listening to entirely via headphones:

  • The Antlers – Hospice
  • Any Arcade Fire album
  • Bjork – Homogenic
  • Any The Books album
  • Brian Eno – Another Green World
  • Cathy Foy – We Build it Tall
  • Centro-Matic – All The Falsest Hearts Can Try
  • DJ Shadow – Endtroducing…
  • Erykah Badu – Baduizm
  • The Flaming Lips – The Soft Bulletin, Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots, At War with The Mystics, The Embryonic
  • Joanna Newsome – Have One on Me (be sure to listen to this album in one sitting)
  • Morrissey – Viva Hate
  • Neutral Milk Hotel – In The Aeroplane over The Sea
  • Paul Simon – Graceland
  • Radiohead – In Rainbows and The King of Limbs
  • Say Hi To Your Mom – Impeccable Blahs
  • The Smiths – Meat is Murder
  • Songs:Ohia – Didn’t It Rain
  • Suede – S/T
  • Weezer – Pinkerton
Yes, I know this list seems close to alphabetical. That is because I ran through my list to double check.
Clearly this list is missing many albums, but these are some of my favorites to beam into my face.

Is Kim Jong-Ill?

22 August 2011

I am in a band called Joey Cougar & The Starfish. We formed in Salt Lake City, UT. We went on tour the summer I had a vasectomy.

Somehow our drummer, Kelly Styxxx, booked us this gig where we were headlining an open mic night. I am not sure people were pleased to see a headlining band during open mic. The guy prior to our performance looped his music and played a didgeridoo. He was a hippy and I wanted to throw a hard biscuit at his face.

For tonight’s post, please enjoy this brief video of us playing our song, “Is Kim Jong-Ill?” at Johnny’s on Second in Salt Lake City.

Am I convulsing with anger in this clip? You decide.

 

Doesn’t cut the (honey) mustard

7 August 2011

Today it rained.

I don’t immediately know what I mean by “it.” I suppose I mean the gathering of clouds creating precipitation.

Yesterday, GF and I went shopping. We went at 8:30 PM because we thought we would beat the crowds. We soon learned that Virginia’s tax-free weekend (for back-to-school supplies) hit the corporate box store hard at night.

After a botched Tuna Helper dish (perhaps due to old butter), we both were hungry and ready to get Applebee’s before hitting the 24-hour box store behemoth. The restaurant’s music was so loud the speakers seemed to be blown, producing a wheezy rattling like a cloying pop star dying but trying to be upbeat about it. Two staff had to put their heads together to find us a booth when at least three booths contained no other patrons. Once seated, we chose the Dinner for 2 for $20. Our appetizer was spinach artichoke dip, of which we had an excessively large portion that makes me wonder why starvation is an issue at all on this planet. We could not finish the dish.

I ordered the chicken finger basket and GF ordered some sort of chicken pasta. After a long time, our food arrived at the table of the family of six or more behind us and they were about to take our food even though they had not even ordered and still had menus when I spoke up and claimed our food and the staff member went to the back to verify our possession where I am sure she had someone ejaculate into my honey mustard before bringing THE EXACT SAME FOOD back to us and I believe a little kid at the family table already touched it (the food, not the clouds) with his disgusting pre-adolescent biotic afflictions.

I ordered a second honey mustard which arrived looking like it still needed to pasteurization and skimming. I could see each component liquid floating separately in that dirty little cup.

I was pleased to take the food from the kid (like taking chicken fingers from a baby). He should get used to disappointment. It’s chicken fingers now kid, but one day you’ll lose bigger dreams, too.

We all have to give up some dreams at some time. Even the dream of eatin’ something edible, much less ” good in the neighborhood.”