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Caribou – Desiree (from the album Andorra)

This is off Caribou’s past album, Andorra. What I love is how he hits upon this absolutely perfect opening – it’s almost like a tenor version of the Beta Band, sparse yet emgrossingly rhythmic. And when he first hit upon that, it must have been tempting to stay there, especially after that beautiful flute-ish line comes in. Instead, he swells it into this charming beach boys-ish chorus that is nearly equally catchy. And then, just to prove he has no interest in the lazy route, instead of going back to what worked, instead of retreating to that amazing opening, he presses forward and develops the chorus’ theme instead, so that by the end of the song, you’ve almost forgotten the opening even though it was jaw-dropping at the time. It’s like he spins these melodies to compete with each other for the prize of getting stuck in your head, and then simply sits back laughing while watching the results.

Really, the whole album is like this. In the live videos I’ve seen this seems to play out – the songs sound totally different, all that remains are the rhythm and the vocal melody – all the rest is thrown around it in a crazy psychedelic haze that could either be random or meticulously plotted. “Sandy”, “After Hours”, “Irene” – it’s weird to me that “She’s the One” and “Melody Day” got all the blog hype off this one back in 2006 – they’re both great songs, but there are others on the album that have a lot more staying power.

I’ve been driving my sister’s car, which has a cd player instead of an MP3 jack.

I’ve also been digging my junk out of the back of my parent’s garage, in order to sell it or trash it, or store it somewhere else.

As such, I’ve had reason to go through my old car mixes.

To 1999 Robb – that jump from AC/DC to Inubus’s “Pardon Me” to The Gourds cover of Gin & Juice over to Pearl Jam before finishing with that Peter Gabriel song was kind of crazy, in a good way. It almost, almost made up for the Matchbox 20 from earlier in the album.

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Givers – Up Up Up (HT: Stereogum)

This song makes me happy. It somehow strikes a chord between complex indie-pop with a lot going on and a melody I swear my dad wandered around the house singing when I was a kid. Also the flute and clapping breakdown is killer and begging to be thrown in a mix.

That’s a baby elephant, in the womb.

Do not pee while you listen to that song unless you are ready to clean that business up, or are very talented. Your hips will swivel.

That was a little gross and totally not based on a true story.

(HAT TIP: Stereogum)

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UPDATE FROM 11 MINUTES LATER: Holy crap, they are the gift that keeps on giving!

This video and song are so perfect and EVEN better than the first. What’s more!: The first two bars of the bridge totally have me singing Queen’s “BICYCLE! BICYCLE!” – but then they change it before the “I love to ride my…” part.

In the 4th grade, I advertised that Tracey Gold would be attending my birthday party. When everyone came, they were totally bummed that Tracey Gold was not at my birthday party. I felt ashamed for a little while. And then I thought, “Hey, wow – these people actually think I have the clout to bring in Tracey Gold. I’m that big of a deal.

Here is a picture of Tracey Gold and her family:

This is a story about Scott Baio’s daughter, Bailey:

A Story About Scott Baio’s Daughter Bailey.

Tracey Gold actually went to her birthday party. And she kind of looks like a boy baby.

Here is the song “Wilderness” by Active Child

Girls in the board room! Girls behind machines! Those crazy girls! What’s gotten into them?

In honor of a potentially patronizing holiday (though it was doubtlessly created with good intentions), comes a “new” old mix of sorts that, itself, sends similar mixed messages! New in the sense that this is its first posting – old in the sense that it is 6 months old. Were it a baby, it could totally eat some pureed avocados!

Previously unreleased to the public, forevermore unrequited, but now here standing before your ears and eyes, Domestic Llama patrons! An entity fully divorced from its past context and seeking new meaning! A mixture of music tinged with very strong feelings and emotions indeed! Both an introduction, and a groundwork, it seeks the very heart of both the sender and the send-ee! The swirl of something indefinite! The tinge of uncertainty in the air! Could this be the smell of mutual affinity and kindness?! Yes, even, perhaps – something MORE?! One can never be sure, for the sweetness of the thing too closely resembles naivety…

BUT MAYBE. Yes, “maybe” springs eternal.

Sally forth, then, faithful lovers! Send this to those you hold dear! But I warn you: Be careful, friends. For, mysteriously, an introduction to the dark art of cardio-engineering seems to prod some to disappear completely at the most inopportune of moments!

Take heart, and press play!

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Track Listing:

1. Local Natives – Airplanes

2. First Rate People - Girl’s Night

4. Noah and the Whale – 5 Years Time

5. Islands – Jogging Gorgeous Summer

6. Harlan T. Bobo – Mlle. Chatte

8. Mumford & Sons – Little Lion Man

9. Starlight Mints – Submarine #3

11. G. Love & Special Sauce – Baby’s Got Sauce

13. The Republic Tigers – Buildings & Mountains

14. Carly Simon – Nobody Does It Better

Daily Torpor (December Mix, 2009 – MC Mirrors & Tinsel)

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Track Listing

1. “I Can Talk” – Two Door Cinema Club

2. “The Atlantic Ocean” – Richard Swift

3. “Perfect Fit” – Clues

4. “Supreme Hotel (Micachu & The Shapes Remix)” – Fool’s Gold

5. “Bone” – Map of Africa

6. “American Boy” – Estelle

7. “Green Eyed Love” – Mayer Hawthorne

8. “Brass Digger” – Starlight Mints

9. “Let’s Go Surfing” – The Drums

10. “Ambling Alp” – Yeasayer

11. “Gypsies on the Road” – Sgt. Dunbar & The Hobo Banned

12. “Animal Tracks” – Mountain Man

13. “Follow You Down to the Red Oak Tree” – James Vincent McMorrow

(I’ll add individual track links in a bit)

Know Why? – No.. Why? (October Mix, 2009 – MC Mirrors & Tinsel)

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Track Listing:

1. “Dominos” – The Big Pink
2. “I Hope I Become a Ghost” – The Deadly Syndrome
3. “Be a Star” – Oh No Oh My
4. “My Body’s a Zombie for You” – Dead Man’s Bones
5. “40 Day Dream” – Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros
6. “Get Up and Go” – Broadcast 2000
7. “When the Child Awakes” – Mount Righteous
8. “Wavin’ Flag” – K’naan
9. “Run” – Broadcast 2000
10. “Home” – Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros
11. “Providence” – The Love Language
12. “No One’s Better Sake” – Little Joy
13. “Lalita” – The Love Language
14. “No Love Could Be Sweeter” – The Equals

Lest I forget them, I want to post the following 7 quotes which beautifully illustrate the main themes flowing throughout “Skinny Legs and All” by Tom Robbins. They’re probably long enough, combined, to qualify for some sort of copyright infringement or something, but it’s cool if you guys don’t have time to read them – I just want to make sure not to forget them.

Each quote is seperated by the first word being emboldened.

Earth, it occured to her, was a sexual globe. Unique in a solar system of dead rocks, snowballs and gasbags. Earth was a theater, a rotating stage upon which a thin green scum of organic life acted out countless, continual scenes whose content, whether explicit or oblique, was almost wholly sexual…

Human beings do not have dominon over the plants and animals. Every daisy in the field, every anchovy in the bay had an identity just as strong as her own, and a station in life as valuable as hers. Humanity was a function of nature. It could not, therefore, live separately from nature except in a self-deceiving masquerade. It could not live in opposition to nature except in a schizophrenic crime. And it could not blind itself to the wonders of nature without mutating into something too monstrous to love…

It was futile to work for political solutions to humanity’s problems because humanity’s problems were not political. Political problems did exist, all right, but they were entirely secondary. The primary problems were philosophical, and until the philosophical problems were solved, the political problems would have to be solved over and over and over again. The phrase “vicious circle” was coined to describe the ephemeral effectiveness of almost all political activity.

For the ethical, political activism was seductive because it seemed to offer the possibility that one could improve society, make things better, without going through the personal ordeal of rearranging one’s perceptions and transforming one’s self. For the unconscionable, political reactivism was seductive because it seemed to protect one’s holdings and legitimize one’s greed. But both sides were gazing through a kerchief of illusion.

The monkey wrench in the progressive machinery of primate evolution was the propensity of the primate band to take its political leaders – its dominant males – too seriously. Of benefit to the band only when it was actively threatened by predators, the dominant male (or political boss) was almost wholly self-serving and was naturally dedicated not to liberation, but to control. Behind his chest-banging and fang display, he was largely a joke and could be kept in his place (his place being that of a necessary evil) by disrespect and laughter. If, for example, when Hitler stood up to rant in the beer halls of Munich, the good drinkers had taken him more lightly, had they, instead of buying his act, snickered and hooted and pelted him with sausage skins, the Holocaust might have been avoided.

Of course, as long as there were willing followers, there would be exploitive leaders. And there would be willing followers until humanity reached that philosophical plateau where it recognized that its great mission in life had nothing to do with any struggle between classes, races, nations, or ideologies, but was, rather, a personal quest to enlarge the soul, liberate the spirit, and light up the brain. On that quest, politics was simply a roadblock of stentorian baboons.

I started reading “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time” by Mark Haddon last night. I think this is a bad time to read it, however, given my fragile mental state. Recently, I have been unable to express even the simplest of thoughts without a jumble of words loosely-related spilling forth in what only barely resembles coherent English. In addition, I suddenly find myself, for so long an other-proclaimed “social-butterfly” as helplessy socially awkward. I do increasingly strange things around people I don’t know well, and respond exactly wrongly to most every situation – what’s more, the aformentioned problem is enhanced, and I make even less sense when I try to communicate basic thoughts from within my head.

I also feel a great disconnect from the world. There are things I like, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t feel really any excitement or attachment to anything much. Nothing really matters, or even seems to have potential to matter. It makes decisions difficult…staying in Korea seems very little different from leaving Korea, for instance. Like…suddenly, I am unable to call up even a smidgen of passion for anything.

But, these are all very common problems for people leaving their mid-20′s. Indeed the lesson of the mid-20′s is a brutal one, as one football blogger whom I am devoted to so aptly stated, “The lesson of the mid-20′s is this: 1. You are not a special and unique snowflake sent with a special purpose in this world. 2. Everyone you know will move and leave you – or else you will move and leave them. 3. Connections to the world are flimsy at best. 4. All of this is somehow OK.

Learning the above lesson probably greatly explains the personality and characteristic changes I am currently feeling. Probably, when said lesson is fully digested (as it seems to be) I will be fully “myself” again, in one form or another that I can live with. But you read a book about an autistic kid, and you relate to many of the disassociations that kid makes, and it is very tempting to begin to think “Huh, maybe I’m a bit autistic.” THis is a bit like browsing WebMD for symptoms and then thinking “Huh, maybe I have Pneumonia.” Except..it starts that way, and then it starts to explain all sorts of problems you’ve had and it also scores you awesome sympathy and pity from others, and instead of saying “Maybe I have Pneumonia” or “I noticed many of my symptoms line up with those of pneumonia.” You instead tell your friends all these stories about your pneumonia and your struggle to overcome it. Except, the hypochondriatic pneumonia thing is just annoying. Whereas, the autism temptation is patronizing and rude.

For about 2 hours today, I was seriously considering that perhaps I was autistic – maybe that explained a lot of the changes I have felt lately. But then I remembered how I nearly punched this kid who lived across the hall freshman year and talked all the time about how he thought maybe he was going through a nervous breakdown, and maybe he was kind of manic depressive. I’d see nervous breakdowns and manic depression closer than I cared to. I knew he was not it. It was horrifically insulting to equate a syndromic chemical imbalance that causes dramatic psychological illness and destroys people and families alike with..you having trouble adjusting to college life and finding out “who you are”.  Not to say your problems don’t suck, but dude, why can’t you just say “this sucks..and I’m having a hard time with it” – why does everyone have to attach some ridiculous CAUSE to every effect.

Basic lesson learned: If you are able to be outside of some problem enough to think “Huh…maybe I have this” and to diagnose yourself with it without any input from others, especially without input from certified professionals - whether the issue be physical sickness or psychological disorder – you probably don’t have it. Like, 99.5% probably. People go to school for 8-10 years studying this stuff for a reason. What’s more, you are unavoidably biased. Who wouldn’t want a good reason to explain all their shortcomings or

What did I do today? I diagnosed myself with a terrifying mental disorder over the span of 2 hours, and then I mentally yelled at myself for having done so for another 2.

What did you do?

SO: yesterday I walked around listening to Paul McCartney’s first album: McCartney. I’d sort of been in the Lennon side of the “Who was more important to the Beatles ridiculous awesonimity?” argument – largely because I’d only listened to McCartney’s late solo stuff and thought at the time that it was mostly average, as well as the fact that most cool people say that – and I desperately want to be cool (insecurity!), and I watched a few documentaries on Lennon, and he seemed like a very cool fellow.

After, you know, actually listening to stuff before casting judgment upon it (novel concept!) – I think the whole argument is stupid. They are/were two folks who together were the greatest songwriting team ever – and apart, are kind of great but not so consistently timeless. They needed each other.

That said – I vastly underrated the enjoyability of McCartney’s sweet-tooth pop sensibilities before giving it a repeated listening yesterday. The album was incredible, and it never once grew tired. And, if John Lennon had “Imagine” as his testament to being “the one” of the group – well, McCartney’s “Maybe I’m Amazed” is its equal. Somehow I didn’t know how ridiculously great that song is until yesterday.

I also greatly enjoyed “Junk”, “Teddy Boy”, “Hot as Sun/Glasses” and “Man We Was Lonely”. Greatly. Every one of them is fantastic! “Man We Was Lonely” kind of seemed just good – until Paul holds out the “Alooone” in the call and response – it’s so simple but somehow made the song fantastic instead of good.

I thought, while walking, about how so often, and so unintentionally, adoration and desperation misunderstood can lead to cruel objectification and dehumanization of other people – as well as just generally acting the fool – and how we’re sort of set up for this deceptive shift by our society, but ultimately the blame comes down to individuals.

I also thought about the future, and decided to apply to some programs to see if I can get an MFA in Creative Writing. It’s not much of a career choice, but what the heck, eh? Gotta go for stuff sometimes – and whether I ever write anything or not, I’d like to actually learn how to do it.

This is scary for multiple reasons: First, and less importantly – I don’t really have any ideas. I’m not that guy who writes long entries in his journal every night. I’m a terrible blogger because blogging is something like public journaling. I’m not all that consistent in temperment or mood or desire or impulses. I’m not witty or clever – I can’t come up with stuff quickly, and if I try it is often forced. Basically – it’s not like writing is this great joy for me where I start typing and feel the world fall away. It’s more, when I do it seriously (nothing on a blog is serious), like an intensely tiring, somewhat cathartic experience that is the only way I know how to get some things clear.

For some reason I always assumed writers were the latter – the people who always carry notebooks and just have heaps upon heaps of material. But, I’m encouraged, in skimming their respective books on writing this morning, by the fact that the experiences of Kundera and Vonnegut (my two literary heroes) seem rather to resemble my thoughts – though sometimes writing is a fun way to pass the time, sometimes writing something out there where I can see it, and then revising it, and then rewriting it again, and repeating this 15 times trying to get to my point, is the only way I know how to think about certain topics.

I’d like to get back to that sort of writing – right now I only write blog posts and Emails, and thinking more than a minute about the way something’s stated in either seems like the surest way for stuff to end up in the draft folder instead of the sent or posted one.

Oh yeah, haha, the second reason: Writing is one of the only things that people (outside mom & dad of course) have thought I had any skill at, especially people with some authority, teachers, professors and the like. Yet, I’m very likely to find out I kind of suck at it. That’s not at all a remote possibility. At that point, I’d be exactly where I am now in life – except instead of being able to say “Well..I could always pursue writing.” I’d..not even have that.

Beyond sucking – it’s possible I’ll just find out I don’t enjoy it, or am not good at it in a marketable way, or..basically, there are a number of avenues that lead me back directly to where I am now, except maybe 2-3 years older, and with less options.

It’s not that I lack confidence so much as I’m just kind of aware that, were I to pursue this, it’s kind of a last shot. That’s not so much scary as sobering I guess. Maybe it’s not all that bad, really, to end up in some office job – maybe it’s possible to carve out a space within that life that’s wholly enjoyable and fulfilling. Maybe not.

But, oh well, eh?