3 July 2011 | IronJ146
I recorded this on my back porch last night.
“Did you hear it?”…some words about Radiohead
Yesterday, I woke up to the closest thing to actual serendipity I can expect in my adult life. It may be a condition unique to me, or this moment in history, but it’s never commonplace to wake and immediately discover that one of your favorite “things”, no matter the form, makes itself available to you when you weren’t exactly expecting it.
My “thing” in this scenario is the new Radiohead record, “The King Of Limbs”. Radiohead has been my stock answer to “Who’s your favorite band” for the lion’s share of their career. “The Bends” was one of the first cassettes I ever purchased for my car when I was 15. Every subsequent release has either come about during some substantial period of my life…or maybe I just use their albums as place markers to keep up with my own personal history…either way, anytime those 5 guys collaborate on an album of recordings, it has an impact on me at a very personal level. For better of for worse, their artwork has had a massive impact of the formation of my personal identity. (yikes!)
I’m not trying to build up the release of this record to some hyperbolic level of importance beyond the fact that such an event has historically been significant to me, personally. I did seriously consider skipping out of my daily responsibilities to digest the album. I tend to have really bad ideas when I first wake up.
I should address the particulars before losing the attention of the average net reader. (Ugh! 4 paragraphs? I don’t have time for this.)
Look, I like it. I’m only really disappointed in it’s short length. I could’ve used 2 or 3 more songs, but maybe that’s being selfish. There’re are a few songs I welcome into the band’s larger body of work with open arms. “Bloom” feels like a Flying Lotus song with DJ Shadow moments, which may say a lot about circular influence. “Little by Little” feels like how I imagine the 1960’s were in the UK, and “Codex” is the show stopper that I hope for with every release. I’m compelled to continue listening to it and that’s all I can really ask for from an album.
With all that personal opinion stuff out of the way, there’re a lot of aspects of the “event” around my “thing” that I find interesting. I’ve noticed a wide variety of reception to this album. Most notably, I feel like there are a lot of listeners that are underwhelmed, and that’s fine. When you have a reputation for releasing game changers, there’s gonna be some unreasonable expectation involved. We’re certainly not talking about Chinese Democracy, here, but it’s hard to defend against “disappointed”.
I also can completely sympathize with the aggravation that comes along with twitter and fb feeds of non-Radiohead fans being “bludgeoned” (Hi, Ryan. ;) ) with updates about something in which they essentially have no interest. I can’t help but feel a little defensive, but that’s because it’s my “thing”. Every time Kanye puts anything out, I roll my eyes as well…but that’s completely different because…nevermind, I’m not gonna debate the subjective.
Most of all, I like that people are talking about it. It could certainly be my circle of interaction that makes it feel so prominent, but no matter the quality of the album or level of satisfaction, it is being discussed. I’m lucky to be able to go out the day that my “thing” happens and start a variety of conversations that begin with simply “Did you here it?”. Just it.
There in lies what I really find significant and special about Radiohead. I’ve been called a cynic, but when my favorite “thing” occurs I’m at no loss of discussion forums. It’s one of the rare moments where I personally feel in touch with the world around me and it, ironically, happens with something as personal as my favorite “thing”.
Did the world change with the release of the new Radiohead album? Of course not. Do I like the new addition to my “thing”? Absolutely.
Here’s to having a favorite “thing”. Cheers.
“Half of what I say is meaningless…”
First of all, please disregard most of the other stuff on this blog. It’s the ruins of a project I may or may not pick back up in the future. Since I don’t really have a proper blog and I feel like Facebook doesn’t really deserve my longer winded ramblings…well…here we are.
So, to get to the point before expounding further (proper journalism style), tomorrow night at eighty-five will be my last DJ gig. I’m excited about what Timm and I have planned and I really wouldn’t wanna do it any other way. We’ll do our 2010 year in review, so it’s all our favorite jams from the past year. I’m also gonna do a 45 minute set of MY favorite Beatles tunes. To the “That’s not 2010” crowd, I think the fact that they’re finally on iTunes, whether you care or not, is significant. Also, I got the box set for Christmas, anyway, so I’ve been going through it and I think something cool will come of it by doing it right now. It will be a lot of fun, so I hope some of you make it out in spite of it being the night prior to a huge party night. 10:00pm sharp. Don’t be a buster.
Now, I feel compelled to expound a bit if only to satiate my need to explain everything I do. If you’re telling yourself that this post is typical for me and simply to make a bigger deal out of the show than it is, then I would agree that it’s a fair statement. The show’s been properly plugged, so you’re dismissed from reading further.
I’m not gonna say that I’m never gonna do it again. I’m way too whimsical to make that sort of prediction. Let’s say it’s like “Michael Jordan Retirement”, but I’m hardly equal to MJ and I’m certainly not gonna play baseball. Okay, so the muppet experiment is kinda like MJ playing baseball, but I certainly wouldn’t do it to suck at it like he did, you know? C’mon now, what did he bat, like .202 or something? That’s terrible. I would go back to basketball and get another ring to make up for it, too. Seriously, though, follow @Ryan2White146 on twitter and this is nothing like MJ playing baseball, but like MJ retiring in that I reserve the right to play shows on special occasions. Apologies to anyone that for some reason forgot halfway through this paragraph that, by “MJ”, I was referring to Michael Jordan and not Michael Jackson and you thought I was talking about zombie Michael Jackson trying to play baseball or something to that affect.
As far as the primary reason for (officially) cutting back, it is to focus on academics. Every personal endeavor that I’ve ever pursued has been some blend of art and social science. It took me until I was almost 30 to realize that so specifically, and I’ve learned that I’ve been pursuing it backwards.
Music has afforded me a lot of joy, life experience, and will always be a part of anything I do. Over the past year, give or take a month or so, this project with Timm and eighty-five has been a very strange experiment. In spite of the myriad of things that left me pretty discouraged, there have also been some really cool things that I’m proud of. I’m certainly grateful. Unfortunately, it isn’t something I can commit to when it’s interfering with what I feel l’m more suited to do.
It should be noted, at this point, that Ryan coming in right as my ability to sustain these two projects started failing was really exciting. What he did with Timm was one of the most eclectic experiments attempted (especially here)and I’m glad I got to see it.
I truly hope the people of Columbus, and patrons of eighty-five in particular, respect that what Timm will continue to bring to the table(s) will still be the most worthwhile way to spend your evening out. He’s awesome at what he does, he doesn’t play bullshit, and his tastes are more discerning then whatever other douchebags put in a jukebox or fart from their mouth into a karaoke mic. Believe that. The cool kids have never had it so good here, so please (continue) to support him. I certainly will when I can.
This has been a big year and ending it this way feels appropriate. I’m excited about the future, which is a relatively new feeling for me if you know me well enough. Let’s do it one more time tomorrow night.
”When I cannot sing my heart, I can only speak my mind.” - John Lennon
The Things I Like.
I want to like the things I like
simply because they are likable things.
I do not want to like things
because other people like such things.
I do not want to like things
because such things can be measured to a standard.
I do not want to like things
that are merely things.
Not me.
No.
I just want to like the things I like
because the things I like are likable things.
-Arthur (date unknown)
“…and there are moments when you realize that not only can you see through walls, but you can walk through them as well.”
“I am inventing you; and I keep on inventing you…”
Dean’s log (date unknown)
Going into Thelonious’s little Zen dungeon is always a bizarre experience. For starters, he insists on not wearing his mask in there. Granted, when anyone goes in there to chat with him, he hangs it over the back of his chair and faces the corner with the little water fountain going so we don’t have to see his face. It’s a lot like trying to talk to your parents when they’re in the bathroom. You don’t see what’s going on, but you know, and don’t wanna think about it. The first few times are a bit revolting, but I guess I’ve gotten used to it. Arthur still gags and complains, but we’re all hoping he grows out of it…which can be said about a lot of things the little bastard does…
Thelonious is about the only one we can talk to about keeping the night fires under control. Maybe it’s because him and the scientist are the only ones that know what the rest of us look like without the masks. However, the scientist hasn’t been much help since the incident with Station falling into the wire pit. I hear that’s the last time the scientist caught fire like the rest of us. Whatever it was that Thelonious told him seems to shut that part of the scientist off…yet the dude is working tirelessly to recreate whatever it is Thelonious does in the opposite manner…because no one understands Thelonious, and the scientist can’t remember what it was he said to him…
I see what they do. Walking back and forth from each other’s rooms with stacks of records to listen to…seems like English would be a pretty decent compromise, but that’d be WAY to practical for those two, you know?
Either way, my visits with Thelonious always end with me leaving with more questions then I walked in with…and in an odd way refreshed. I mean, the dude doesn’t even SPEAK. It’s hard to explain. I wonder if he speaks to the others. No one’s allowed to talk about it…
(log session expired before completion…save now?)
In which men catch fire and only burn others…
(Int: Small apartment. Noon)
“It was just a fucking dream, dude”, moans Dean while rolling his eyes…as he normally does. “There was no building. You weren’t in an airplane. You never lived on the beach. That kid never fell off whatever structure you were just describing because those structures don’t exist anywhere unless you wanna go build it. I have a feeling you won’t because you’ll be to afraid some kid will try to do what you said you saw and kill himself…skip to the next track, will ya?”
Arthur: How come every time I’m upset about something that I feel like I really experienced, you’ve gotta shoot it down as fiction.
Dean: Look, the scientist has plenty of books on existentialism if you wanna go bug him. Start with Decartes and work your way up. I’ve got way more important things to worry right now.
Arthur: But it was so real. It always i(s).
Dean: (abruptly) DUDE! I’m serious. I’m trying to get us out of here and it’s hard to do that with you screaming all the time about the shit you see when you’re sleeping. What am I supposed to do with that?
Arthur: I dunno, maybe help? You do the same thing I do where your chest catches fire when you’re upset, and I wanna know what you do to make it stop.
Dean: It doesn’t. It just doesn’t. That’s what the scientist is here for, man, and even he’s not been much help, yet.
Arthur: So we’re just supposed to wait…
Dean: Don’t taunt me. You know patience isn’t my thing, and it doesn’t look like it’s yours either. The longer this conversation goes on, we’re gonna end up setting this whole place on fire and kill everyone in it…now go some-…wait, NOW what are you doing?
(Arthur scrolls through the music and chooses another song)
Dean: (gives Arthur blank stare)You are the worst DJ ever. I’d hate to have all that soy-latte audio flowing through my head the way you do.
Arthur: Well, you had a nightmare the other night, too.
Dean: Man, what did I tell you? I’m busy! I’m not the least bit interested in playing therapy swap with you.
Arthur: But You do it, too! I wanna know what you saw!
Dean: Nothin’, man.
Arthur: TELL ME!
Dean: (sigh) I watched her die.
Arthur: Who? HER her?
Dean: No, not HER her. The young one. A man swallowed her whole.
Arthur: …and it freaked you out…
Dean: YES, and I felt weird the rest of the day, but it was just a dream. Seriously, I’m working on something. Get out of my room…
Arthur: You’re a dick and your mask is ugly.
(Dean stands and moves towards Arthur in an aggressive posture)
Dean: KID! Fucking GO before I smash your fucking…
Arthur runs out, slamming the door behind him (stage left), leaving Dean standing alone in the middle of his apartment. The words “You meant everything” come out of the speakers, repeatedly. His chest is on fire.
