Saturday, February 07, 2009

Songs That Might Otherwise Pass You By

**The podcast show notes will up tomorrow. Normally I post the show notes before the blog post, but I told some people I'd have this post up today, and I'm not going to have to time to look up all the information for the show notes today**

Greg Laswell, "How The Day Sounds"

How The Day Sounds

This guy is awesome. I've loved every song I've heard from him. I played "Sing, Theresa Says" (video) a few years ago. I heard "How The Day Sounds" on Paste Magazine's compilation #46. It's one of those songs that'll make me stop whatever I'm doing and listen. Most days I complain about the annoyances of life, but here's a guy who's having a wonderful time. It reminds me that I, too, can enjoy at least a moment of the day. Even if it's the small part of the day I'm not under pressure at work. Maybe it's that part of the day my co-worker played "Thriller" and I danced in the aisle. Or the moment we all came together for the "Wear Red For Women" event. Or the medieval festival I went to last weekend. Whatever, the moment of the day is, this song helps me to remember to appreciate it. It's sad that I have to be reminded, but maybe if I take a moment every day to enjoy myself, eventually I won't have to be reminded. Unfortunately, I can't find a "legitimate" free mp3 for the studio version of the song for you to enjoy. I could e-mail the record label, but I want to get this song on my blog this weekend, so I don't have time. I did write the promotion company, and they said they'd get back to me. I want to go ahead and get this up, though. I did find a live version for download. There's also a video of the performance.

Paste Magazine
Greg Laswell's playing not far from me on February 22nd. I may actually brave the cold, stay up past midnight on a Sunday night and go.

Greg Laswell is laughing. I guess the day said something funny

Glasvegas, "Geraldine" (the download mp3 button is on the left of the page, not far below their picture)

This song is totally addicting. I want to listen to it over and over. It totally persuades me of the power of Geraldine. I think she may be a rock star. (Actually, I like to believe that she's Geraldine: the saucy, unapologetic vicar from the great British show Vicar of Dibley). She sounds totally awesome. I think I want to do whatever she tells me. If I start walking backwards, I think she will right me. If I'm tired, I think she'll make me better. Oh, but wait. That might be Geraldine's subversive plan. It seems from the lyrics that Geraldine may have a bit of a Florence Nightingale complex. Seems like she likes to befriend misguided, confused, prescription-soaked souls and make them depend completely on her. It appears that she likes people to need her. She wants to be people's "shepards" and "guides". If someone starts to fall, she'll talk him or her "off the ledge". If they've gone on a wayward path, she'll "turn [their] tide" Hmmm...sounds a little like...Oprah. Or the leader of a cult. Kind of hard to put a distinction on it.*

Glasvegas get the award for the best epilepsy inducing website ever.

*Of course, if they meant this as a serious ode to the work and challenges of social workers the world over, that's cool too. I know their job ain't easy, but it's sadly needed.

I think Caroline McKay of Glasvegas is staring at the ceiling, wondering if the land of Glasvegas is made entirely of glass. And if so, how does anyone get any privacy?

Marissa Nadler, "River of Dirt" (Thanks to Filter Magazine for the link)

Marissa Nadler's voice feels filtered through 50 years of country music's ghostly past. I would say it was fueled by the ghosts of female country's best, but most of them are still alive (except Patsy Cline...perhaps she's the one I hear). There is certainly a morbid overlay to Nadler's music; I could hear this playing at the end of a David Lynch movie--maybe Wild at Heart. Maybe a song that would play on that deserted, dusty, darkened road as Sherilynn Finn stumbles from the car wreck, pulling her sopping, blood-soaked hand from the back of her head. Or maybe Twin Peaks, as we see Laura Palmer meet her fate. There's something lonely about this song, but it's a noble, purposefull lonesomeness. She's the storyteller, hovering above whatever sad, human story is being told. Recounting and lamenting the events--the first and last one to convey the remorse of whatever regrettable scene has just occured.

Marissa Nadler's blog

Marissa Nadler is wearing an awesome dress

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