I had just clicked play on Paul Duncan’s "Oil in the Fields," a delicate song for this delicate day. Elizabeth seemed to respond immediately to it. If I were searching for a gift to offer Elizabeth, I’d keep this song in mind.
"That’s not a question I can answer, E. I haven't figured it out yet."
"I mean, it’s weird, isn’t it?"
"Hmm-mmm."
"Well, not exactly weird, but it does make you wonder."
"Yup."
I don’t know the whole answer. But I have…
So, at times throughout the day, I relieved my eyes by searching for new music.
In addition to that Paul Duncan song I mentioned earlier, I also discovered this new Belle & Sebastian song over at You Ain't No Picasso.
Appropriate, no?
If it sounds live, that's because it is.…
Joan and I are going to Barcelona from Oct 16-28 and need to figure out how to handle the cat thang. The easiest solution is to find someone we trust to house sit. I don't suppose you'd have any interest would you? There'll be a reasonably good hi-fi, the home theater downstairs, and a well stocked fridge (Mmmm, beer.) Plus DSL internet, of course.
The blog was then only a few days old, and, right away, it occurred to me that house sitting for Wes would be a great opportunity for me (and…
The ride out to Bay Ridge seemed to take forever. Outside, it was still raining. At least, underground, I was dry. In between reading Corey Greenberg’s essay on epiphanies and Wes Phillips’ e-newsletter on ripping LPs, I sent you a text message which you would not receive, writing simply to thank you for making me feel better—as you always do—with the way you listen and the way you think, the way you smile and the way you nod.
I’ll say that Mr. Conduso’s comment really hurt…
My old army surplus bag, which has been everywhere with me, was stuffed with a week’s worth of clothes. Already, it was tugging down at my back painfully. Slung over my shoulder was my black tote bag, holding nothing but my favorite CDs: Sonic Youth’s Washing Machine, Smog’s A River Ain’t Too Much to Love, John Vanderslice’s Pixel Revolution, a couple of mix CDs compiled by friends, and about twenty others, including my band’s own self-titled debut (if there’s any album in this world I know intimately, it’s that one…
Atkinson, when are you going to figure it out? Readers don't give a rat's patootie for reading blogs (or article digressions, Sam Tellig...) on what you guys had for dinner, who you know in Europe, what art galleries you visit, etc. —or anything else that isn't directly related to the title of your magazine. Why do you keep this guy anyway? Because his already retro glasses make him seem smart?
I was going to leave your typos in, but I just couldn’t—for the sake of the prettiness of my blog, as well as to satisfy my…
So, I just noticed this awesome comment left by Josh Gladstone:
I bought Todd's At Work CD. I just received it at work (natch). I guess I'm completing the cycle by commenting on your post about the…
I walked gingerly, so as not to trip over any speaker cables or kitty tales [sorry Huckleberry!], to the amp and preamp. They weren’t the Viola Audio pieces that I expected, but instead, the Krell KAV-280p and KAV-2250. On the former, I noticed a small blue-lit power light. “I guess it’s on. Do these things just stay on all the time?” I shrugged my shoulders. I also noticed a small red light marked “B-1” —I don’t know what that means. I don’t know if I need to know what it means.—and a red-lit number “25” beside a knob which I was too…
Towards the end of the meal, Eric offered me a present: a book called With a Measure of Grace&#…
It was a pleasure to play with such talented and exciting bands—All Rattle & Dust and Overlord. “This is one show that I’m really happy to be a…