Tuesday, April 11, 2006
you can crush us, you can bruise us
Recently, I've had an unsettling feeling that I have more to express than could be possibily appropriate. I have the urge to respond to everything- to summarize my impressions, consider a position or form an opinion. Small things happen every day, and I want to turn all of them, every one, into a story with a beginning, middle, and end. My morning art class yielded two such neat narrative packages- each with a bow parable on top. Walking out of class, I thought about how silly that storytelling was- who really wants to know the Tale of The Water and Ink Drawing On Tuesday? I guess I've been thinking about expression too much. What to do with a blog that tells itself to shut up?
psst- if you read about the following band on a blog last May, indulge me and read my review anyway. it's not new, but it's cute.
Nouvelle Vague means New Wave and Bossa Nova. Last year, a couple of French producers translated that pun it into a full album. Unfamiliar with the source material, young French women sing the songs of eighties disaffected British youth to gentle, faithful covers in the sixities Brazillian style. If you think its sounds like dinner party lounge music, you're only partially right. Each song is a delightful little accident, with none of the square-peg-in-round-hole sonics you might expect. The record's concept is certainly novel, but it's more than a novelty. Nouvelle Vague is moving and touching in quiet ways, perfect for mixtapes or a spring afternoon determined to unfold at its own pace. "Teenage Kicks," "Love Will Tear Us Apart" and the Modern English cover are particularly good. Buy at Amazon.
Nouvelle Vague- Guns of Brixton
Wow. I forgot how much I liked that record. I didn't mean to write such a postive review. Maybe that's the trick of expression- the act of story-telling changes the story. Aw shit. I sound like a high school english teacher. ¶ 10:05 PM
Recently, I've had an unsettling feeling that I have more to express than could be possibily appropriate. I have the urge to respond to everything- to summarize my impressions, consider a position or form an opinion. Small things happen every day, and I want to turn all of them, every one, into a story with a beginning, middle, and end. My morning art class yielded two such neat narrative packages- each with a bow parable on top. Walking out of class, I thought about how silly that storytelling was- who really wants to know the Tale of The Water and Ink Drawing On Tuesday? I guess I've been thinking about expression too much. What to do with a blog that tells itself to shut up?
psst- if you read about the following band on a blog last May, indulge me and read my review anyway. it's not new, but it's cute.
Nouvelle Vague means New Wave and Bossa Nova. Last year, a couple of French producers translated that pun it into a full album. Unfamiliar with the source material, young French women sing the songs of eighties disaffected British youth to gentle, faithful covers in the sixities Brazillian style. If you think its sounds like dinner party lounge music, you're only partially right. Each song is a delightful little accident, with none of the square-peg-in-round-hole sonics you might expect. The record's concept is certainly novel, but it's more than a novelty. Nouvelle Vague is moving and touching in quiet ways, perfect for mixtapes or a spring afternoon determined to unfold at its own pace. "Teenage Kicks," "Love Will Tear Us Apart" and the Modern English cover are particularly good. Buy at Amazon.
Nouvelle Vague- Guns of Brixton
Wow. I forgot how much I liked that record. I didn't mean to write such a postive review. Maybe that's the trick of expression- the act of story-telling changes the story. Aw shit. I sound like a high school english teacher. ¶ 10:05 PM
