Showing posts with label Uninspired Posting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Uninspired Posting. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

The Perils of Listening to STP


It has come to my attention that I am often plagued with a mild sort of paranoia. Now, before you get all worried about my health/sanity, I must emphasize the "mild" part of the diagnosis, and also assert that this diagnosis was in no way made by a health professional. Instead, it is more a result of my tendency towards hyper-self-awareness that I discovered this trait--or, it is more likely the case that instead of paranoia that it is this trait expressing itself. It is in fact this very trait that is causing me to reflect and realize that this introduction is needlessly wordy, and that its attempts at being analytical and insightful are failing miserably, and instead I am looking like a fucking pompous windbag. I have been told to end the introduction immediately.

The point that I was trying to get at was fairly simple--I am often very conscious of my actions and appearance, but its motivated by the idea that there is always the possibility of someone judging me. I don't mean this in a literal Judge Judy and Executioner way, or a Fear of God kind of way either--just that people are always paying attention to whatever it is that I am doing, whether it be on the bus or in the check-out line at Freddy's. So when I do things like my daily jog, I assume that everyone is paying attention to me and wondering what the hell this fat fuck is doing trying to "exercise" (that's reserved for the strong and beautiful only, folks). Or if there are parents watching their kids playing, they must be thinking something along the lines of "I better keep an extra careful watch on my kids, because I'm sure this guy is some sort of child rapist or something" (even though Joe Reefer is the one with the vehicle known as the C M V!).



As a result, I often prepare myself for potential contact with other human beings. The most important part of this process is deciding exactly what music I'm going to listen to. If I'm having to explain myself, I don't want to be caught talking to a nice old couple about the Mastodon pumping through my headphones, or something weird and gay like Hot Chip. So I tend to stick with pretty mainstream stuff, classic or otherwise.


A band that seems like a good choice within these parameters would be Stone Temple Pilots--pretty popular band, you probably heard a lot of their songs on the radio. But as I saw a woman approach me during my jog, I wondered "what if you hadn't heard of the band?" If this person asked me what it was I was listening to, could I say "Well, it's Stone Temple Pilots 'Naked Sunday'"? That would be exceedingly scary. I then thought of potential ways to explain myself. I could talk about the other hits you might have heard! Let's see...next song is "Creep". Nah, that doesn't help with the situation. What else was huge..."Sex Type Thing"! The anti-rape song that sounds like an anthem for a Broseph U fratbastard that he can bang his head to while mixing up that GHB! "Crackerman" could work...wait, that sounds kind of racist...no, "Dead and Bloated--NO..."Plush" sounds nice, and way too much like we're entering into Buffalo Bill's lair..."Wicked Garden"...eww. Then I thought of songs from other albums: "Vasoline"--that just sounds graphic; "Interstate Love Song"--that sounds like it's about Highway Hookers; "Trippin' On A Hole In A Paper Heart"--junkies are frightening and confusing; "Lady Pictureshow"--sounds like the next date for that Highway Hooker; "Sour Girl"--the Highway Hooker is now an old maid.

Clearly the entire catalog of STP was of no help whatsoever. Then again, this was the same band that originally was known as Shirley Temple's Pussy, so I should have realized this at the outset. To add to the misery of the situation, you also have to consider the outfit that I was wearing, that was the result of the bizarre weather we were having (cold as fuck but blinding sun--lousy Smarch weather)--a hooded sweatshirt with mirrored shades. Basically, we had a fat Unabomber on the loose. AND LISTENING TO GOD KNOWS WHAT?!?!



This is why I don't talk to people.

Monday, November 12, 2007

Support Your Local Record Store

If there's one thing that unites the WDR crew besides our love of hard-core, barely legal pornography*, it's our shared musical taste (as for the pornography, let's just say it's that weird stuff that you have to get through the mail in brown paper bags). Much time has been spent discussing the relative merits of latter-period Pearl Jam, the mind-expandingly awesome nature of The Flaming Lips, or just how freakin' awesome that one(International) Noise Conspiracy concert was. So I'm sure they will be with me in spirit as I write this.


I spent the last weekend searching for a copy of the brand new Sigur Rós album, because I need a small rectangular box that conveniently shows just how pretentious I can be (and at the same time, how much of a pussy I am). I mean, we're talking about a fake album (it's two EPs put together), from a band that sings in a fake language a lot of the time. However, the big-box retailers all failed to have this album in stock. But you know, I totally could've gotten a sweet deal on a karaoke mic. Though strangely enough, Best Buy all of a sudden had 3 copies of the Airbag: How Am I Driving EP, after being totally absent from the shelves for years. But since they're too late, fuck 'em.


Eventually I rectified the situation and hit up the local record store establishment and found myself a copy (though at a price that more than a few would balk at paying). I then got into a discussion with the clerk about other post-rock bands and other bands on the Icelandic music scene. On top of that, I got my hands on a Guided By Voices album that is currently burning up my iTunes. It's this kind of personal touch that you have to love--the entire WDR crew is friends with the owners of Harvest Music, and as such not only have become good friends, but also get some pretty sweet deals for being regular customers.

Thank God Oregon has a passion for independent businesses, so we have more than our share. So make sure you stop by tomorrow, and do something like pick up the latest Hives record. Good times.

*Not true at all.