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Download “The Waves” | The story of Princeton is enchanting: twins unite with childhood friend for a “musical partnership” after watching That Thing You Do (hells yeah), and years later reunite and play in London, where over the course of a year they are drawn towards influences that end up as fodder to their lovely EP titled Bloomsbury, which they write in their current hometown of Los Angeles. The lyrics of each of the four songs profiles one member of the Bloomsbury Group, and though the lyrics are often effortlessly dazzling (So Leonard Woolf don’t cry, your books will one day speak to me / And when they do we’ll run outside, and tell your wife…and tell your wife…), it’s really the musical sensitivities that shine through. The strong nonverbal voice of a storyteller is immediately apparent in the texture of each recording, and how carefully yet painlessly different parts swing from one tone to another.
The storytelling is akin to the skills Sufjan deployed in Michigan, though the effort here is intentionally less epic and seemingly un-orchestrated. The atmosphere of the music is very present, and at least in me it triggered a suburban image for some reason: gaping blue sky, quiet streets, and so on.
Which Virgina Woolf book does this blog get its name from? You’re on your own on that one, but view the full post to find out why the band is named Princeton.
At Union Hall, AA Bondy asked that we call him Gus from that moment on. The two A’s in Bondy’s name stand for Auguste Arthur, however, and I ask: why the hell have we been diverted from using that fantastically royal birth name? He may have appeared to be more of a Gus that night, dressed in the most generic combination of shirt over t-shirt with jeans and boots (and a cap pre-show); he may have even sung like a Gus in that extra raspy voice of his, wailing on the harmonica every now and then, but his personaly sure as hell has the heroic poeticism of an Auguste Arthur. Opening band Two Dark Birds tried their best to hold the attention of the room, but going by the chatter that poured of that tiny space, they were unsuccessful. Bondy, on the other hand, with the might of his acoustic guitar and an array of harmonica options, claimed the spotlight. I would’ve liked to stay for Delta Spirit, but an incident before Bondy’s last song dictated I and my posse, shaking with fury, storm out into the pleasant arena of home sweet home as soon as Bondy’s set was done. (ps. I’ll add photos later today)
Snark is not a new pastime hobby; I’m not even sure if it’s necessarily on the rise, though the comment section of most blogs may make you think otherwise. For one thing, how can the witty (in my book the brightest) not have always turned to full-time mockery as a channel for expression only too fulfilling (especially if the others really are halfwits), second only to comedy, or maybe not even that. But my point is that when witty people do it, snark is highly entertaining and totally hip. I, however, have neither the wit nor the heart to attack people whose only fault is to love themselves (happy and confident people are often the subjects of cutting snide, aren’t they?). But! I am dying to talk about a real douchebag who grabbed me by the arm and yelled at me to stand up at tonight’s otherwise fun AA Bondy show at Union Hall. I hope you read on, and then tomorrow I’ll tell you all about how great AA was.
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Download “If I” | Here’s some Piers Faccini music as promised. And an excerpt from an interview with Santa Barbara Independent, dated December 2006:
Does your worldly upbringing give you better insight into songwriting? The music that I do is influenced by a lot of different kinds of music from around the world. It’s a very kind of eclectic music, which I’ve been listening to ever since I was 18 really. I don’t know if I could say definitely [that it makes me a better songwriter], but the fact that I wasn’t in one country, that I moved around speaking more than one language, that made me an outsider constantly. I know how England works, I speak the language, but I don’t feel English. I go to France, I don’t feel French. I go to Italy, and I don’t feel Italian. That gave me more a sense of whit and scope for when I write songs. I don’t feel limited to any particular format.
I was recently accused by a family member of getting sucked into whatever was showing on television. This family member is mistaken. When he caught me watching the The Real Housewives of New York City reunion (or whatever it is they call the post-season chit chat), and when he saw me running into the living room to see who got kicked out of Top Chef, he wasn’t witnessing me getting sucked into whatever was showing, these were things I had specifically handpicked to watch. His conclusion comes from the assumption that all reality TV is crap (he asks, “who’s reality?”), but I have learnt since my exposure to the last season of Project Runway that Bravo TV was showing reality television of a different calibre altogether, though I was very late indeed.
On Tuesday, the 24th of June, Actor Elijah Wood and model Riley Keough hosted a benefit for Art for Elysium at the Milk Gallery in Chelsea, where silk prints of rock photography by the legendary Mick Rock went on sale starting at $14,000 a piece. We’re not pop culture literates here, but we do know enough to inform that Riley, who’s looking very pretty here, comes to this world by way of Elvis, Mick Rock looks a bit like Lou Reed, and that Danny Masterson fellow is Steven Hyde from That 70’s Show! View full post to see all photos from the event and to find out who I caught talking about light sabers at length.
Download “The Waves” | The story of Princeton is enchanting: twins unite with childhood friend for a “musical partnership” after watching That Thing You Do (hells yeah), and years later reunite and play in London, where over the course of a year they are drawn towards influences that end up as fodder to their lovely EP titled Bloomsbury, which they write in their current hometown of Los Angeles. The lyrics of each of the four songs profiles one member of the Bloomsbury Group, and though the lyrics are often effortlessly dazzling (So Leonard Woolf don’t cry, your books will one day speak to me / And when they do we’ll run outside, and tell your wife…and tell your wife…), it’s really the musical sensitivities that shine through. The strong nonverbal voice of a storyteller is immediately apparent in the texture of each recording, and how carefully yet painlessly different parts swing from one tone to another.
