A review I did a while back, but as long as I'm doing this whole bloggin' thing I might as well upload it...
I would thoroughly enjoy having a cup of coffee with Collin Malloy. As a follower of The Decemberists for the past several years, I am itching to know what inspires him to write the songs he writes. Since the band’s emergence as a major player in the indie-rock scene, Malloy has crafted a stream of songs so classically tragic that they would make Shakespeare proud. With their latest release, “The Hazards of Love,” The Decemberists go where no one has gone in a very long time, their tragedy-bent songs finally culminating into an old fashioned progressive-rock concept album.
The album is meticulously put together from start to finish, a tragic fantasy (because what other kind of fantasy would Collin Malloy have?) about an evil queen, a monstrous rake who becomes haunted by the ghosts of his murdered children, and two lovers (William and Margaret) who are torn apart by the scheming of the queen. “The Hazards of Love”, when approached like any other recently released album, runs a great risk of being misunderstood. For this reason, I think it should come with an instruction manual. The instruction manual would read something like this: First, no skipping songs; there are no singles, rid yourself of that mindset. Think of it like a book; you wouldn’t skip chapters, don’t skip songs. Second, this album requires concentration, it’s not just something to sing along to with your friends, listen closely to the lyrics, and you might be too squeamish to sing along (listen to The Rake’s Song). Third, pay attention to the story, get to know the characters, appreciate the album as a collective work, and this album is likely to be one of your favorites.
This is the part of the review where I would usually talk about the stand out tracks, but there really aren’t any. This isn’t because the songs are bad, it’s because the album is essentially a 17-track long song. The songs are in the same key and flow into each other seamlessly. I personally think the album could be a little catchier, (there are no “Valencia’s” or “Sixteen Military Wives’” on this album), but that’s not what The Decemberists are going for. This is a classic concept album in its purest form, the album teeters between British folk and metal, dotted with Zeppelin-esque riffs and choruses sang by ghost children. To even attempt an album like this is ambitious and to pull it off is a feat. But this isn’t just a novelty; it is an impressively good album. I’m not sure how it will fare in today’s scene, but there is no doubt that “The Hazards of Love” would have been a classic had it been released in the British Isles in the 1970’s.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
My First Austin Chronicle Blog!
A Captain Goes Down With His Ship…
Today, Austin boasts a teen scene that is arguably among the best in the nation. Yet for every movement, there were the pioneers, those who made their way through the tangled masses of reluctant club owners and sharpie smeared hands and blazed a trail. When I was sixteen, The Diving Captain was one of the very few young indie-rock bands in Austin. Back then, the attention that teen bands get here now was virtually non-existent, but The Diving Captain went far beyond the high school talent shows. Their dynamic combination of an energetic stage presence and irresistible melodies landed packed shows at the hippest venues and developed a genuine following. If teen bands are on Austin’s radar now, it’s because bands like The Diving Captain caused a ruckus this town couldn’t ignore. As Austin’s first big wave of teen musicians grow up and go off to college and the next wave takes the plate, let us not forget those fallen pioneers. Viva la Diving Captain!
-Aaron Miller
(there was more, but this was the interesting part)
Today, Austin boasts a teen scene that is arguably among the best in the nation. Yet for every movement, there were the pioneers, those who made their way through the tangled masses of reluctant club owners and sharpie smeared hands and blazed a trail. When I was sixteen, The Diving Captain was one of the very few young indie-rock bands in Austin. Back then, the attention that teen bands get here now was virtually non-existent, but The Diving Captain went far beyond the high school talent shows. Their dynamic combination of an energetic stage presence and irresistible melodies landed packed shows at the hippest venues and developed a genuine following. If teen bands are on Austin’s radar now, it’s because bands like The Diving Captain caused a ruckus this town couldn’t ignore. As Austin’s first big wave of teen musicians grow up and go off to college and the next wave takes the plate, let us not forget those fallen pioneers. Viva la Diving Captain!
-Aaron Miller
(there was more, but this was the interesting part)
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Miscellaneous Dreams and Inventions
This is a collection of writings I have done within the past two years or so:(they are not really connected to each other in any way)
1: Immobilized By Attempting Immortality:
That night Orion had a dream that every person in the world moved to the front side of the Earth, weighing it down to slow the orbit, slowing the years. Everyone had longer lives, and everyone was safe, but they had to build fences on the beaches because some people did not see the point in a life with out adventure, and went swimming out from the beach, throwing off the balance of the planet and speeding up the years. Scientists and Physicists then theorized that the speed of the Earth would be slowed the greatest if everyone just stood still, so that’s what they did. Generations and generations of people stood still all their lives to maximize the lengths of their lives. Cutting-edge developments in science and physics suggested that if the people all laid down they would take up the most space and put the most weight on the earth; slowing the years down even more. After a few generations of laying down, people forgot they had the ability to stand or walk and were rendered immobilized by attempting immortality.
2: A Rhythmic Glow of Chaos:
She smiled and turned her head away, he slipped his hand into hers. The city glimmered in the distance, a rhythmic glow of chaos. If it had been a cloudy night, the lights from the buildings and neon signs and coffee shops would have lit the bottom of the clouds with an orange glow, but not tonight. Tonight was cloudless, a night when nothing was held in, the type of night that never comes often enough.
Tonight everything was clear; the only obstacles between the rooftops and eternity were the stars. And the people dreamed dreams in their beds, even the people who said they never dreamed, and the dreams floated up through their roofs and straight to God, not getting trapped underneath the clouds. The dreams floated up in the same way that feathers float down, the night sky becoming a mess of dreams. The sky above the city was so full of dreams that the dreams bumped into each other. Dreams that weren’t right for each other bounced off of one another, looking for a match, but the ones that were right for each other fit into one another, completing each other and becoming one dream: boys saw the girls of their dreams, girls saw the boys that would risk everything for them, fathers saw their families happy with all they had provided them with. Mothers saw their children returning home safely. Workers saw relaxation, poor people saw riches, lonely people saw love. But for those who were unhappy only because they had found the person that had made them happy on this earth and that person was now gone, the dreams kept floating; up past the dreams that were searching for a match, up past the dreams that had found their match and were touching like lovers, up past the skyscrapers and the airplanes and the satellites and the space stations and the stars and straight to the person they were dreaming about. And for that moment, every person in the city was happy, everyone was in love, everyone was forgiving, forgiven, relieved, relaxed, excited, overcome, overwhelmed; everyone was full.
3:Destination Cookies:
O.K., Picture this: a restaurant, a nice one with scallops and cheesecake and lots of silverware. It would be like all nice restaurants in the world except that when you went to eat you would bring luggage packed with clothes and toothbrushes. You would eat with your luggage next to your chair, a meal with family and friends where you would reminisce about the past and laugh about all the strange places you’d been. You could take as long as you wanted, and when you were done fortune cookies would be brought to your table. But instead of finding fortunes when you cracked the cookie open there would be a plane ticket to a destination, and it would be best to go by yourself, somewhere new where no one knew your name or your mistakes. You would walk out of the backdoor of the restaurant and find runways and airplanes and it would be nighttime so that when the sun came up it would rise on a brand new day in a brand new place. Destination cookies. The beauty is that your destination would be entirely random.
1: Immobilized By Attempting Immortality:
That night Orion had a dream that every person in the world moved to the front side of the Earth, weighing it down to slow the orbit, slowing the years. Everyone had longer lives, and everyone was safe, but they had to build fences on the beaches because some people did not see the point in a life with out adventure, and went swimming out from the beach, throwing off the balance of the planet and speeding up the years. Scientists and Physicists then theorized that the speed of the Earth would be slowed the greatest if everyone just stood still, so that’s what they did. Generations and generations of people stood still all their lives to maximize the lengths of their lives. Cutting-edge developments in science and physics suggested that if the people all laid down they would take up the most space and put the most weight on the earth; slowing the years down even more. After a few generations of laying down, people forgot they had the ability to stand or walk and were rendered immobilized by attempting immortality.
2: A Rhythmic Glow of Chaos:
She smiled and turned her head away, he slipped his hand into hers. The city glimmered in the distance, a rhythmic glow of chaos. If it had been a cloudy night, the lights from the buildings and neon signs and coffee shops would have lit the bottom of the clouds with an orange glow, but not tonight. Tonight was cloudless, a night when nothing was held in, the type of night that never comes often enough.
Tonight everything was clear; the only obstacles between the rooftops and eternity were the stars. And the people dreamed dreams in their beds, even the people who said they never dreamed, and the dreams floated up through their roofs and straight to God, not getting trapped underneath the clouds. The dreams floated up in the same way that feathers float down, the night sky becoming a mess of dreams. The sky above the city was so full of dreams that the dreams bumped into each other. Dreams that weren’t right for each other bounced off of one another, looking for a match, but the ones that were right for each other fit into one another, completing each other and becoming one dream: boys saw the girls of their dreams, girls saw the boys that would risk everything for them, fathers saw their families happy with all they had provided them with. Mothers saw their children returning home safely. Workers saw relaxation, poor people saw riches, lonely people saw love. But for those who were unhappy only because they had found the person that had made them happy on this earth and that person was now gone, the dreams kept floating; up past the dreams that were searching for a match, up past the dreams that had found their match and were touching like lovers, up past the skyscrapers and the airplanes and the satellites and the space stations and the stars and straight to the person they were dreaming about. And for that moment, every person in the city was happy, everyone was in love, everyone was forgiving, forgiven, relieved, relaxed, excited, overcome, overwhelmed; everyone was full.
3:Destination Cookies:
O.K., Picture this: a restaurant, a nice one with scallops and cheesecake and lots of silverware. It would be like all nice restaurants in the world except that when you went to eat you would bring luggage packed with clothes and toothbrushes. You would eat with your luggage next to your chair, a meal with family and friends where you would reminisce about the past and laugh about all the strange places you’d been. You could take as long as you wanted, and when you were done fortune cookies would be brought to your table. But instead of finding fortunes when you cracked the cookie open there would be a plane ticket to a destination, and it would be best to go by yourself, somewhere new where no one knew your name or your mistakes. You would walk out of the backdoor of the restaurant and find runways and airplanes and it would be nighttime so that when the sun came up it would rise on a brand new day in a brand new place. Destination cookies. The beauty is that your destination would be entirely random.
Fine Film of Memory
Sleep, my old friend, you elude me still. Where have you gone? Every time you leave it leads to something big happening in my life. What new development is this? Yesterday was the first day of fall, and fall came in like I feel it should always come in, with a cool gust of wind and clouds pregnant with rain. It rains often now, and my days are categorized yet again by day-long treks between the ivory canyons of academia. I have found a place to live that feel s like home finally, but again I am beginning to become conscious of the return of the restlessness that once characterized my entire being. I haven’t been surprised in awhile, I have trouble sitting still again, and I’m paranoid of shoes that fit to tight. Subconsciously, I think I’m trying to let myself know that I am ready to go, ready to move. Destinations then puzzle me, where to and for how long?
We were all going to pack up and move away, remember? I never envisioned myself staying here, but the time to decide got closer and I felt like there was too much in my hometown to leave behind. Now I wonder if that was precisely why I should have left it behind. Is there too much here? Who would I be if I had left a long time ago? Though I am happy and I enjoy what I do here, sometimes it seems like this whole town is coated with a fine film of memory. I want to know what it’s like to create a new town full of memory.
We were all going to pack up and move away, remember? I never envisioned myself staying here, but the time to decide got closer and I felt like there was too much in my hometown to leave behind. Now I wonder if that was precisely why I should have left it behind. Is there too much here? Who would I be if I had left a long time ago? Though I am happy and I enjoy what I do here, sometimes it seems like this whole town is coated with a fine film of memory. I want to know what it’s like to create a new town full of memory.
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