“You couldn’t watch. But you couldn’t look away. And then it was over. I don’t remember if there was any applause, but I know that there were no celebratory drinks, there was no after party; the audience simply drifted off into their own version of the night.”
Here We Go Magic - Make Up Your Mind
It goes without saying I am uber excited for this album.
By the way Luke Temple… what are you doing?!
via yvynyl:
Whoa, Luke Temple transforms into some kind of leather-clad demon magically putting women into strange seizures from afar in this wacked this new video directed by Nat Livingston Johnson & Gregory Mitnick. The single is so outrageously Talking Heads in all the best ways, I feel like I’m in a time warp.
The new A Different Ship LP is out May 8th on Secretly Canadian.
once again, luke fucking temple.
Real Estate, “It’s Real”
Their new album Days is easily in the Top 5 Most Anticipated of 2011 for me.
(“Fake Blues” still gets me all fuzzy feeling. Those opening notes. Pavlovian feel good-ness.)
“The way he listens to music is one of the most endearing and sweet things I’ve ever seen. He takes off his shoes, sets them down and gets comfortable. He kneels or sits in front of the record player, lifts the cover, reverently chooses a record, puts it on, closes the cover and just listens, start to finish. Whenever I go to see him and we listen to music like that, I register in myself how much better it feels than other ways of listening, which are like rushing to eat a meal because you’re super-hungry. You need to eat, just like you need to listen to music, but it never feels good if you do it like that. So I am trying to set my life up in a way where I don’t have to listen to music anyway other than putting on a record and sitting and listening.”
— Joanna Newsom, describing the way Bill Callahan listens to music, in a 2006 interview with Arthur Magazine (via austinkleon)
(via austinkleon)
“I wrote a song that I never recorded, where I sing, “We will fly over tune-yards in our dreams.” I’ve become enamored with the thought that songs and inspirations don’t come from a person or an artist, they come from outside of you. When I was sitting down in that creation period and editing a piece of music, it wasn’t feeling like I’m controlling it—it felt like I could access something else. I don’t mean to say that I feel like the hand of God or anything, but definitely being more of a channel than a creator. A lot of people call you things and blow smoke up your ass. Sure, I feel like I’m a good person, but I don’t feel like I’m a brilliant genius that no one else is. I just feel like I’m lucky. The name “Tune-Yards” keeps it outside of myself—that this is a place where music is created.”
— Merrill Garbus, on the name of her project, Tune-Yards (via austinkleon)
(via austinkleon)
turning out to be one of my favorite new albums of the year so far.
What makes our all-time favorites our all-time favorites? We listen to different things for all sorts of different reasons. There’s music that soothes us when we’re upset, music that motivates us when we’re sluggish, music that exposes us to an unfamiliar lifestyle or culture, music to fuck to, music for driving, music for walking, music for nostalgia’s sake, music to sing along to and music that makes you want to crawl inside the speakers in order to be completely cradled by every single reverberation. What the upper echelon favorites do, however, is something simultaneously simpler and more complex than any of the responses or purposes above - they make you feel deeply, genuinely, one hundred percent motherfuckingly like yourself. When everywhere we look, someone is trying to change us into what they want us to be, to make them more comfortable or to put more money in their pockets, the ability to be consistently reminded of who you truly are, dammit, and to feel actual zen about being that person, is absolutely priceless.
iTunes is shuffling like it was born to serve me. how long can this last? quite possibly the greatest non-chemically induced feeling that exists on this ridiculous planet.
When I was eighteen years old I moved to Spain and went through my first big heartbreak. There was a night where I listened to this song on repeat for hours — literally over a hundred times — and then I did it the next night. And the next night. It wasn’t an obsessive thing, it was more meditative. I slept to it. I wrote to it. There’s just something soothing in repetition when your heart hurts that much.
i had to reblog this, to say…. yes.
the last time i was heartbroken i listened to literally nothing but this album (jose gonzalez, veneer) and iron & wine’s the creek drank the cradle every single night to go to sleep for a good solid month. i literally felt like these two albums were as much music as i could handle, these and only these could handle my fragile state in that perfect balance between recognizing my pain and not letting it kill me.
this album owned my little soul when i was, um, nineteen years old. six years later i can still listen to it and get the exact same feeling, and connect with it all over again from an entirely different vantage point. that, my friends, is the magical quality of good music.
they remember the people they loved, their old friends
and i’ve seen through ‘em all seen through ‘em all seen through most everything.
