Tuesday, December 21, 2010

I and Love and the Avett Brothers

Well, while I recover, let's go from a dead/dying punk band to a band that is very much alive. And not at all punk. :)

In the past I've never been a fan of live music. Maybe because in the past the most of the live CD's I've listened to were my mom's Jim Brickman CDs in the car. Not quite my thing. Cheering crowds in the background always bugged me, even on my live Coldplay CD, which I for the most part like.

Oh, my friends. How much I had to learn.

Maybe it was the fact that I've since been to a live show that makes me enjoy the crowd sound now. I definitely think most of it's the fact that it's the Avett Brothers. (And here Holly walks away from the computer, shaking her head at me. Sorry dear. Not really.)

LIVE VOLUME THREE. MIND BLOWN.

Have you ever listened to music and felt something just welling up inside you? Emotion, excitement, happiness, whatever you want to call it. But you get that feeling in your lungs that makes them just a little bit tighter, and your breath catches in your throat, and your heart kinda freezes in your chest, and all you know is you have to DO something. Write. Run. Dance. Sing at the top of your lungs. You don't care. You just have to do something to give that wellspring of feeling a path to flow through. This CD does that to me, from the very first swell in the applause straight to the end. I don't think I've ever gotten that from a CD. Last time I got that feeling was... well, a live show.

There's just something about the Avetts I can't quite put my finger on. Do they have the best voices in the world? No. (Well... maybe Seth does. But that's up for debate.) They're not for everybody if you just look at the face value. But they've got a richness, a soulfulness, an honesty that's just undeniable, especially live. And even though I'm not actually at a concert, I feel like I am. I can close my eyes and see the stage and feel the music running through me and imagine quite easily I'm there. Which is AWESOME!

I bought this two nights ago... and I've literally listened to it four and a half times through already. And I'm not at all sick of it. Even the songs I wasn't incredibly fond of non-live, I love on this album. BUT... I'm not going to do my usual track-by-track runthrough for two reasons:
1. All live albums should be completely album only. If you just buy one or two songs you're missing out on the experience.
2. Similarly, live albums should never be played shuffled. You gotta listen to it straight through. You're cheating yourself if you don't.

However, I will hit the high points.
-Talk on Indolence (if you take out the one bad word like I did): REALLY fun song. Makes me want to dance in a fountain.
-The Ballad False Start-- Because I love Seth Avett and this is just adorable. (Since you probably haven't listened to the CD, he starts playing "The Ballad of Love and Hate" and kinda fades out like he forgot the words, and then says, "I'm so happy right now I can hardly stand it." And since I'm in love with him, I think it's precious.)
-The Ballad of Love and Hate-- Oh man. Oh man. Oh man. I love this song anyway, but I don't think I'm ever gonna be able to listen to the non-live version ever again, because this is so awesome. Definitely a throat-catching, heart-melting, goose-bumping, wellspringy sort of song. Oh man. If you MUST break the cardinal rule of live albums and buy a single, buy this.
-Colorshow-- I just hadn't heard this one before and I really liked it. It's catchy.
-I And Love and You-- Oh goodness. It's so lovely.
-When I Drink (which isn't actually about drinking)-- The boys are harmonizing beasts. And I love this song.
-Paranoia in B-Flat Major-- I just like this song anyway. I'm obviously more of a Seth person (haven't you been paying attention?) but I really like Scott's voice on this one. I also like the key change. (Am I crazy? Isn't it higher? I'm pretty sure the one on Emotionalism is just B Major... but I might be crazy.)
-Kick Drum Heart-- I like this song anyway, even though it's not the most Avetty Avett song, but live it becomes a really really Avetty song. It makes me smile whether I feel like it or not. I like it.

IN CONCLUSION... I need an Avett concert. If they come to Denver, I will explode. And then put all my pieces back together and get myself to that concert.

Thank You, Lord, for making the Avett Brothers brothers, so they can't break up like Paramore. :)

<3

Monday, December 20, 2010

Commentary on a Breakup

I guess everybody has to go through it at some point. There's the initial shock, the denial, the depression, and finally the acceptance. I'm not quite to acceptance yet. That's right, you know what I'm talking about...

A favorite band breaking up.

I guess it's not all over for Paramore yet... the Farro boys are just leaving. However, I can't see it going much further without them, and if it does it's just not gonna be the same. So I might as well mourn now.

You've been able to tell, I'm sure, that I am a big-time music person. I love the empathy you get from it. I love listening to a lyric and feeling as though someone opened up my soul and somehow spun my tangled up, wordless emotions into those words. Paramore was the beginning of that. Listening to Paramore was the first time I realized music had emotional value. Those lyrics still mean a lot to me. They connected me to people. And nothing could beat screaming them at the top of my lungs at Red Rocks last September. I'm so incredibly glad I got to experience that. Paramore's played into so many experiences I've had and shaped me in a lot of ways. I guess it's cheesy, but they'll always have a little red couch in my heart.

Thanks for the smiles, tears, and empathy. You'll be missed, Paramore.

"And if you have to go, I'll still wave goodbye, watching you shine bright..."

<3

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Nothing to Fear

"There is nothing to fear but fear itself."

Some people treat movies like connoisseurs treat food. They place value on cinematography, the score, the acting, the screenplay and the underlying themes as though they were a complex flavors in a dish being served up at a five star restaurant, and aren't worth digesting unless they're the perfect blend of sophisticated tastes. I'm not one of those people. I LOVE movies, but I will gladly take a substandard "fast food" movie that's cheap and unremarkable, but delicious in its own way. However, I can and do appreciate the movies that can be picked apart like a book, that make me think, that prove to me that films are indeed a form of literature.

Enter Batman Begins.

Yeah, I'm behind the times. I get that this was nearly six years ago and has already been far overshadowed by The Dark Knight. I don't care. I'm blogging about this one right now.

You start out with Bruce Wayne falling into a well that is inexplicably full of bats. (Sure, a bit of a stretch, but it gets the point across.) Right into his adulthood, he's still scared of the things. So he decides to become Batman, BECAUSE he's frightened of bats. He overcomes a fear in order to strike fear into the hearts of criminals. Conveniently enough, crime and corruption are conquering Gotham City (of course... has Gotham ever been a happy place?) and if it weren't for Batman, it would destroy the city completely. So why do the citizens allow it to prevail? Fear. Fear for their families. Fear for their jobs. Fear for their money. It's always something. After all, like the mobster leader Falcone says, "I wouldn't have a second's hesitation of blowing your head of right now and right here... Now that's power you can't buy! That's the power of fear." Fear is dominating Gotham long before the climax of the movie, when the main villain, Ra's Al Ghul, releases a hallucinogen-laced gas into the air to induce-- what else?-- fear. The hallucinations cause the citizens of Gotham to perceive nearly everything they see as something out of their very worst nightmares. Ironically, it's one of the villains that gives away the whole point, revealing that this isn't just a superhero story: "There is nothing to fear but fear itself."

No one was in any real danger, not at first. They were simply allowing their own fear to possess them, to conquer them from within and ultimately destroy them. Of course it's Batman, the one who has overcome his fear, who is able to save the city.

Happy coincidence or awesome writing and directing? I'm gonna go with the second one. I love it.

And it's relevant because fear possesses people in the real world. Not in such a heavy physical hallucination-gas type way, but in a very real way nonetheless. Fear keeps us from following our dreams, from going that extra mile, from being ourselves, from sharing the Gospel, from trying anything at all. But really, what is there to lose? If friends are going to ditch you, they weren't truly your friends. If your dream doesn't work out, it wasn't meant to be and something better's coming. So why not go for it? Why let fear hold you back?

There's nothing to fear but fear itself.

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

"Nothing Works For Me" by Richard Lederer

I found this while browsing Adam Young's blog (as in the guy in Owl City... yeah. <3) Anyway, call me lame but I thought it was hysterical.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My first job was working in an orange juice factory but I couldn’t concentrate and got canned.

Then I worked in the woods as a lumberjack but I just couldn’t hack it so they gave me the axe.

After that I tried to be a tailor but I just wasn’t suited for it. Mainly because it was a so-so job, de-pleting and de-pressing.

Next I tried working in a muffler factory but that was super exhausting.

I wanted to be a barber but I just couldn’t cut it.

So then I became a hairdresser but the job was just too cut and dried.

I sold Origami but the business folded.

I attempted to be a deli worker but any way I sliced it, I couldn’t cut the mustard.

I studied a long time to become a doctor but I didn’t have any patients.

Next was a job in a shoe factory; I tried my best but I just didn’t fit in.

I became a Velcro salesman but couldn’t stick with it.

I was a professional fisherman but discovered that I couldn’t live on my net income.

I became a baker but I couldn’t make enough dough.

I tried being a fireman but I got burned out.

I managed to get a good job working for a pool maintenance company but the work was just too draining.

I got a job at a zoo feeding giraffes but I was fired because I just wasn’t up to it.

So then I got a job in a gym but they said I wasn’t fit for the job.

Next, I found being an electrician interesting, but found the work shocking and revolting so they discharged me.

I got a job as a historian until I realized there was no future in it.

I became a transplant surgeon but my heart just wasn’t in it.

I became a tennis pro but it wasn’t my racket. I was too high strung.

I tried being a teacher but I soon loss my principal, my faculties and my class.

I tried being a farmer but I wasn’t outstanding in my field.

Then I was a pilot but I didn’t have the right altitude.

I worked at Starbucks but I had to quit because it was always the same old grind.

So I retired and I found I’m a perfect fit for this job!

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Pretty Girl at the Airport

All I really have to say is "Marry me Seth Avett." :D

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Chapter 9

Yeah, here it is. Sorry for taking so long. I promise I will finish... In fact, I'll finish by New Years. Deal? (I have up to Chapter 14 written... I just have issues finding time to post.) It isn't terribly interesting, but it's words!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Patrick pried his fingers under the knot and pulled it open to reveal some kind of key pad.
“Synthetic tree? I’m surprised at you. Isn’t that a little progressive for you?”
“I don’t know, it was convenient! You can take it up with the Sergeant when we talk to him. I’m just a cadet.”
The Sergeant. She remembered the static-ridden voice that had proceeded from the walkie-talkie just hours before, and a shiver ran down her spine.
Before she was even quite sure what was happening, Patrick had punched a few numbers into the keypad and yet another panel of the knot had opened, revealing a wider hole in the tree. It ran down into the depths of the tree in an almost frightening manner, giving her the same feeling as the black holes she’d watched clips of in Current Events.
“You care to go first, or shall I?”
She gave him a terrified look. Surely he didn’t slide into the tree’s mouth, to descend into the belly of the beast?
“It’s perfectly safe. I’ve done it hundreds of times. If it makes you feel better I’ll go first, though.”
Speechless, she merely nodded.
“It’s not far down, I promise,” he added as he slid into the tube and disappeared into the darkness.
She peered down the pipe after him for a good minute, unwilling to follow him into this unknown menace. Slowly, gripping the top edge of the tube with all the strength her fingers could muster, she slid into the tube. Lincoln, with a mischievous look in his yellow eyes, pranced up on his back legs and placed his paws on her back, as if to tell her to get on with it.
“Oh, fine,” she muttered. “Stupid cat.” Releasing all her fear, she let go, allowing her body to slide down into the dark. Within seconds her feet met hard, solid ground. Bright lights nearly blinded her eyes. She wasn’t sure she was in the right place until she saw Patrick’s face, and suddenly felt safer.
“Who’s the girl, Blue?” She tensed and whirled around, reminded sharply of the soldier on the road just a night before. She turned to see a lanky, but handsome Memorist soldier with brown hair and grey eyes that looked almost like Nana’s.
“A friend,” Patrick replied, not looking worried. She felt a sigh of relief leaving her lungs; if Patrick could trust him not to hurt her, she probably could too.
“Oh,” the other soldier said, holding out his hand. “Trey Putnam at your service.” She noticed an accent in his speech that wasn’t present in Patrick’s, a sort of twang in his words.
She took it, and he cranked it up and down firmly. “Piper Conrad.”
He stopped shaking her hand abruptly. “Did you say Conrad?”
She nodded. He and Patrick exchanged a pointed look, and the latter merely shook his head.
“What?” she asked, confused.
“Nothing,” they both said at the same time. She opened her mouth to give them a piece of her mind when they heard marching coming from the corridor. She made her instinctive move to hide behind Patrick, but he pulled Trey in front of her. “Listen, I need you to hide her for a minute, okay? Just don’t let anybody see her. I’ll be back in a minute. And if anything happens to her… I blame you.”
Trey raised a cupped hand to his forehead and swept it out toward the air in some sort of Backwinder salute. Before Piper could object or even ask what was going on, Patrick was gone, and Trey was hurrying her into a corner of the room. Lockers covered most of her from sight, and Trey, tall as he was, kept the passing soldiers from noticing her presence.
“So whatcha hear for, ma’am?”
“I’m not a ma’am just yet, you can call me Piper. And…” She stretched for something to say. “I guess I kind of got lost.”
“Aw man, that happened to me once. My first day on patrol, I got separated from the rest of the troops and had to sleep in a tree. Scariest night of my life. Saw a bar.”
“A bar?”
“You know, the things with the fur and the teeth. Big as three men and brown all over. She was scratchin’ at the tree stump”—he made scratching motions with his hands—“and growlin’ at me, and I just knew I was gonna die right then and there. So I threw my canteen out over her head, ya know, to distract her, and then I scrambled outta that tree faster than I ever moved before in my life. Got back to camp in less’n ten minutes, and it was three miles away.” He held up three fingers to prove his point. She had just started to laugh when Patrick came back.
“What’re you thinking, making her laugh? Someone could have heard you, or seen her, or…” He trailed off and rubbed his hand across his face in his usual nervous habit.
“Relax, Patrick, I’m fine,” she said. “And I thought you said it would be fine for me to be here.”
“It is, but I had to make sure with the Sergeant. He wants to see you in his office alone.”
“Alone?”
“Yeah, he says it’s procedure.”
“I’m not going to do it, I won’t, he’ll kill me on sight—“
“No, he won’t. That’s ridiculous. You’re going to be just fine, and I’ll be right outside the door the entire time, alright? It’ll be fine. I promise.”
His chocolate brown eyes were screaming at her to trust him again, and she couldn’t deny them.
“What’s wrong with her?” Trey whispered loudly.
“Nothing, Putnam, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“Is she in trouble?”
“No.”
“Is she your girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Well, what then?”
“She just needs help, alright? Give her some air.”
Trey backed off with a reserved expression on his face, and Patrick moved towards her, putting a hand on her shoulder and guiding her down the hallway. The harsh concrete walls, lined with green lockers, made her feel as if she was in prison rather than an army camp. The lights, still blinding, reminded her vaguely of the dentist’s office. She’d never liked the dentist.
They came to a gigantic metal door that slid open to give them admittance. The room seemed pitch black at first, but as Piper’s eyes adjusted from the bright light, she found herself in a room bearing a striking resemblance to the Lex car station in Iretum. Green posts settled themselves over more metal doors, with windows that seemed to open into an underground tunnel. Suddenly a loud feminine voice blasted through the speaker above Piper’s head, startling her. The voice very calmly announced, “Now approaching Concourse B. Concourse B.” Lights flashed from down the tunnel, and she could hear an ominous rattling coming their way.
“What’s a concourse?” she asked Patrick.
“This used to be an airport back when traveling was commercial.”
“Airport?”
“Like the helicopter pads in the cities, but anybody could fly. Go on vacations and stuff.”
Piper nodded calmly until a frightening thought entered her mind, causing her to grip his arm in a panic. “We’re not flying, are we?”
He laughed. “No. We’re hundreds of feet underground now. But the train to get the passengers to their planes still worked when we found this place, so we decided to keep using it. No sense wasting the time and money trying to get a new one. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”
In a blur of white and gray some sort of vehicle pulled into the station. The doors in front of them slid open, revealing a well-lit cabin. Metal poles, not quite thin enough for her to wrap one hand around, rose from the floor to the ceiling.
“Might want to grab one of those,” Patrick said. Eyeing the boy suspiciously, she took one of the poles between both hands, almost unwilling to comply with his unusual suggestion.
“Next stop: Concourse C. Concourse C.”
The rickety train jerked forward suddenly, jolting Piper backward. Her hands caught her just in the nick of time, and she moved forward as fast as she could, hugging the pole for dear life. This thing, whatever it was, was nothing like the Lex cars she remembered from home. Lex cars were levitated by static electricity high about a foot above its track, but the sharp jerks and turns of this vehicle betrayed its primitive nature. Even though the cars moved much faster than this train, the same static kept the passengers standing upright through the friction between their shoes and the floor, with no need for these silly poles. This had to be ancient. She felt like she was going to be sick.
“You alright?” Patrick asked calmly, as though he had been through this process a thousand times. He probably had. He had even dared to let go of his pole, and was standing up right as though he was strolling through the park on a holiday.
“Fine,” she said, more loudly than was probably necessary. She hated showing weakness in front of him. He had helped her enough. However, she could hear him chuckling quietly over her shoulder, and she knew he saw right through her. He nevertheless had the tact to keep his mouth shut, and both of them remained silent for the rest of the ride.
“Now approaching Concourse C. Concourse C,” the cool feminine voice announced. The vehicle began to rattle noisily to a stop. Just as Piper thought it was safe to let go, the train’s brakes sent her flying forward toward the pole again. She could hear Patrick laughing aloud at her.
“Hey!” she said in genuine annoyance. “I’m trying, okay? Just because you’re good at everything around here doesn’t mean—“
He rested a hand firmly on her shoulder and looked her dead in the eye. “Piper. Relax. We’re friends, remember?”
“Says the guy carting me off to my doom,” she retorted.
“How many times do I have to tell you? You’re going to be fine.”
“At least one more time. As always.”
The doors slid open and she found herself in a spacious room with white concrete walls much like the hallway they’d come from. Smack in front of her was a dull metal door with a window at eye level. It reminded her of a prison cell.
“That’s it,” Patrick said, tightening his grip on her shoulder and pushing her forward.
“You’re going to be right here?”
“Right here. You just have to scream.” His voice sounded tired and exasperated.
“Alright, then.” Her every limb was trembling as she took a step forward, then another, then another. The door might as well have been miles away at the pace she was going, but Patrick did nothing to speed her up or scold her. At last she reached the entryway and wrapped her fingers around the cold handle. She took one final look at Patrick, who was sending her a thumbs up sign. Nodding in affirmation, she turned the handle, and again was blinded by the lights.

Monday, November 29, 2010

Movie Review: Phantom of the Opera


After all the years of hearing Phantom songs around the piano at Kamp, I finally watched it for the first time tonight. WOW. That's all I have to say. Wow. I have to blog about this movie. I'm not entirely sure what to say, but I have to blog about it. I think I shall review it. Yes. I shall. (If you actually care that much about what happens... you shouldn't read this. Because I don't want to spoil it for you.)

So... here's what it's basically about. Ever since her father died, the beautiful performer Christine has believed that an "Angel of Music" has been watching over her and guiding her through the world of 19th century Parisian opera. Little did she know that this Angel who has inspired her is actually a mysterious, misunderstood man who lives in the crypts beneath the opera house. The Phantom takes his opportunity to whisk Christine away to his world of night, and will stop at nothing, even murder, to convince Christine to be his eternal bride. Torn between the mysterious genius and her childhood love Raoul, Christine must choose whether she will follow her heart... or the music.

The plot... Oh wow, the plot. It was wonderful. More importantly, the characters were amazing. The Phantom was one of the most complex heroic villains I think there's ever been. One minute he's all set to strangle Raoul and the next I'm crying because Christine wouldn't stay with him. He's brilliantly misunderstood. And misunderstood characters are the best characters. Seriously, someone should do a psyche on him. Once his insanity's cured I'll take him, messed up face and all. And he sings! :)

My biweekly rant: The Phantom DID Love Christine. My evidence:
-He WAS her angel. Granted he was kinda a demented creepy stalker angel, but ever since she came to the opera house he was there for her. She just... didn't really know he wasn't a figment of her imagination. He was kinda her best friend when she was all alone. It's sweet. In a creepy way.
-He honestly did want what was best for her. He was trying to help her get the lead the whole time. Because he loved her. :)
-He could have killed Raoul on the rooftop, but he didn't. Because he loved her. :)
-He let her go in the end. She was at the point she would have stayed with him, but he let her go. Because he loved her. :)
-The rose on her grave. Oh. Oh how broken my poor little heart was.
Not that it's okay that he killed people, but I think he did love her. That's my rant.

And Christine totally loved him back! She wouldn't let Raoul kill him, and she was going to stay with him, and you could just tell from the look on her face that she loved him. She did. But no. She married Raoul. Boo.

And of course, the music. It was beautiful. If somebody sang "That's All I Ask of You" to me, I'd marry them on the spot. Haha. Just kidding, probably not. But it's a great song. It just about broke my heart in the reprise when the Phantom sang it instead of Raoul. Of course, the iconic Phantom theme just kinda freaks you out in an amazing way, and in general it all just makes you want to sing. Loudly. In higher registers than you're probably capable of.

Yeah. That's about it. Like I said, it was just one of those "I have to blog about this thing."

What can I say? I'm a Phan.

<3