My Bird Performs

finally i found it, after a real long time of internet searching: the soundtrack to Michael Crichton's The Andromeda Strain, composed by Gil Melle. It's a barrage of bleeps and blips, primitive electronics that for its day were incredible (probably about as incredible as the effects in the movie were). Speaking of, I can't help but think of the movie when i listen to it, and since it is one of my favorite movies (and books, too) ever, there is no complaint in that department. never have underground decontamination chambers sounded better, and i must say death in piedmont is portrayed rather brilliantly. it's a stark record, and it's not an easy listen. i'm not even sure why i wanted it so bad. but i have days where, honestly, that music would just work with my mood. my only hope is that someday i'll be able to get my hands on an original vinyl copy of this baby.

i don't think anyone ever reads this anymore but me. oh well, i was getting tired of looking at my last post.

smooch.

Posted by Kevin at 4:21 AM | Permalink | Comments

i was worried about the new beatles record, love, when i first heard about it.

but when i heard the vocal line for "within you without you" over the rhythm track for "tomorrow never knows," i was amazed. there is some really cool stuff going on, like taking "good night" and putting the "octopus's garden" vocal melody in there instead.

later on in the record there is some pitch-bending and such, which is understandable, cuz if you've ever tried to play along to some of the later stuff, you'll realize it's sorely out of tune.

towards the end of the record, there is less mashing, which was kind of a disappointment, but i guess you have to get into cirque du soleil mode, and realize there's supposed to be a show going on over this. and then it's forgivable.

honestly, the record is sort of like a fresh perspective on some beatles tunes. and sir george martin still has it. yes.

UPDATE: being a beatles kid, after repeatedly listening to 'love,' i just really want to sing along to the whole tunes; with this record, most of the time you don't get that. after a while you think, "man, 30 seconds of 'what you're doing' just isn't cutting it." and then you realize you should have just listened to 'rubber soul' and the rest of the original records, because, like always, nothing will ever top them.

Posted by Kevin at 4:30 PM | Permalink | Comments

Since it's football season once again, I've been watching more concentrated blocks of television than I do during other parts of the year (otherwise known as "the dark times"). As a result, I've seen more than my fair share of commercials. Now, I mean, I majored in communications, so I know what to expect from advertisers. However, there's only so much I can take sometimes. Vonage, you should be ashamed of yourselves. I've never dreaded watching a Notre Dame home game until now, and it's all thanks to you. However, during the breaks, while I'm wishing away these little slices of obnoxious, I occasionally catch a glimpse of some non-abrasive ads. Here, for your viewing pleasure, are two, both of which highlight choice tracks from earlier this decade:



Hem - Half Acre. First, there's this little feel-good spot from Liberty Mutual. In addition to the whole pay-it-forward-ness angle, the commercial sports an addictive soundtrack in the form of this, a track from Hem's 2001 album Rabbit Songs. While I'm not going to run out and refinance, I have to give advertsing firm Hill Holiday credit for their pairing of message and soundtrack. If they were going for memorability, they nailed it. On its own, the song is perfect for this time of year, with hints of frost forming at the edges of singer Sally Ellyson's voice while she ruminates on home and longing. I'm a little late on posting this one, but after seeing it roughly 20 times during the Notre Dame-Purdue game on Saturday, I had to act.



Royksopp - Remind Me. Something different, something the same. In this ad from Geico, we see that society has yet more socrn to heap upon the indignant neolithic pitchmen. The moving sidewalk double take got a chuckle out of me. Once again, song and scene are a perfect fit. The caveman's weariness, whether from travel or from disrepect, is mirrored by Royksopp's ode to wanderlust. In a way, that puts the Norwegians at thematic odds with Hem. I can only imagine what that fight might look like.

Posted by Tyler at 11:21 PM | Permalink | Comments

I wrote a postcard yesterday. Here's what it said:

I'm standing in the post office, watching the leaves turn at the church across the street, and there's nowhere else I'd rather be right now. I hope you can say the same about whatever place you're in.

When I finished, this song came on my Walkman. I just thought I'd share.

Paul Simon - Hearts and Bones. Is Hearts and Bones the most underrated Paul Simon album? Probably. Was the $.50 I paid for the cassette version at an area Goodwill this weekend a complete steal? I think so. Is this, the title track to said album, a beautiful piece of music? Most definitely. Paul Simon knows how to write an autumnal song.

This latest mini-hiatus was caused by various weekend dalliances with two very honored guests. I'll be back to real updates later today.

Posted by Tyler at 1:29 PM | Permalink | Comments

Unless you're a band looking for a street team, random MySpace friend requests rarely amount to anything more than a solemn click of the reject button. However, on the flip side, sometimes they're totally awesome.


This is Phil Aiken, piano player and my new friend. According to his website, Phil's worked with pop luminaries including Buffalo Tom, Ben Kweller, James Taylor, Ken Stringfellow, and, of course, sportscaster Peter Gammons. Not a bad musical CV, if you ask me. Aiken's also plugging his second album, the recently released It's Always The Quiet Ones. The album employs the ever-popular piano-bass-drums base, and features, according to the enthusiastic press release over at Not Lame, "a multi-layered collection of meaningful songs with enough jolt to push any listener out of their aural malaise". A pretty big promise, no?

Phil Aiken - Figurine. I like this track. It doesn't have the bombast found in most Not Lame releases, but that works in its favor. Aiken does his best John Linnel impersonation while dishing out hooks that'll sneak up on you later when you least expect it. Maybe I'm just getting old, but I find it hard to ask for much more.

Phil Aiken - It's Always the Quiet Ones. When you're dealing with piano pop, it's easy to make comparisons to the "big names": Randy Newman, Billy Joel, Ben Folds, and so on. On his website, Aiken calls out the inherent tiredness of this approach, wearily stating:

"And no, it doesn't sound like Ben Folds. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Does every guitar player sound like John Denver? Or Yngwie Malmsteen?"

Funny stuff, and I agree: piano pop doesn't have to be one-dimensional. Neither, apparently, does MySpace.

For more Phil Aiken, visit his website. To be his friend, go here.

Posted by Tyler at 11:47 PM | Permalink | Comments

If you're already anxious about what surprises 2007 will hold for music fans, here's an early one: the Polyphonic Spree have have become *gasp!* a focused pop band. At least, that's what the group's new EP, entitled Wait, would have you believe.



Amidst some truly inspired covers (a Daniel Johnston-esque romp through Nirvana's "Lithium", a Polyphonic retconning of Tripping Daisy's "Sonic Bloom"), Tim DeLaughter managed to sneak out some original songs scheduled to appear on the Spree's third album, The Fragile Army. In spite of what the album title might have you believe, these two tracks are decidedly hearty. Since I'd feel kinda scummy posting 40% of the EP up here for free, I'm only offering the first and, coincidentally, superior track. Buy the rest here.

The Polyphonic Spree - Mental Cabaret. This is the most purposeful-sounding Tim DeLaughter track since the days of Jesus Hits Like An Atom Bomb. Anyone who was turned off by the community theatre vibe of Now We Are Heavy would do well to give this new material a few listens.

Posted by Tyler at 9:24 PM | Permalink | Comments

A note to all future Notre Dame quarterbacks (i'm looking at you, Claussen): when you play a game like this...


...and make this man look like a competent quartback...


...then it only follows that this will happen.


47-21. At home. To Michigan. I just wanna wake up. A win in next week's game in East Lansing is now vital instead of expected. In this time of adversity, only one thing can raise my spirits: Manfred Mann.

Manfred Mann - The Mighty Quinn (Quinn the Eskimo)

Go Irish. Beat Spartans.

Posted by Tyler at 12:54 PM | Permalink | Comments