Thought I was onto something special when I got the news that there was a video on the Museum Of Modern Art's website of a recent performance by Sigur Ros that took place in conjunction with an exhibit by Olafur Eliasson. I'd hoped to post it here, even though the only good thing about it is the song and the performance itself. This is MoMa we're talking about, you'd think they could come up with something more original than this stop/start affair. When I went to YouTube to find an embeddable version I was not too surprised that it wasn't there. What I DID find, however, was a slew of performance videos from the same show. Some are better quality than others, but the majority are a lot more interesting than what MoMa has to offer.

Watch them HERE

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We have not been happy with the house we've lived in over the past 3 & 1/2 months. The main thing is that it's just too small. Not even close to the amount of closet space that we need. Bryan's room is too small. It's basically not a very good house.

Obviously we've been hoping to find a better one (not easy in a small town like the one we live in). Something that would meet our needs and yet still be in the same price range as the one we are currently at. We didn't expect to find one too quick so we weren't in any rush where we had to take whatever came along first.

So this afternoon Stacie goes through the town newspaper to see if there's anything on the market. There were 4 or 5 rental houses on the market. We wrote down addresses and phone numbers, then went on our way to look at them. The first few we saw didn't look like the kinds of places we would want to live in.

There was only one more ad we had yet to check out, and the address of the house was not listed. Stacie called the number and spoke to the landlord, asking for the rent amount and the address. She arranged for us to meet at the house. She told her that there was no bath tub, only a walk-in shower, that it was one of two houses she had for rent on the old highway.

My dad lived on the old highway. I grew up in a house on the old highway. No way. It couldn't be.

Then it hit me what she said about the lack of a bathtub in lieu of a walk-in shower...my dad's wife had a lot of problems with her knees and couldn't get around very easily. She was a hypochondriac and was always complaining about not being able to get in and out of the bath tub. So, to please her, Dad bought and installed one of those physician recommended shower seats.

We're driving down the old highway and I'm thinking, "No. That would be too good to be true. Surely it's not the same house...but how could it not be?"

It was.

That's right, almost ten years after Dad passed away, my family will be living in the house he built for 30 years. We took the tour, although I knew exactly where everything was. Nothing had changed, just new carpet and a fresh coat of paint. It's a really nice house, and I don't say that because I used to live there.

Three bedrooms. just as we need them (our room, Bryan's room and an office/den). At least twice as much closet space as we have here. Plenty of storage space. A bath and a half.

And to think, my son will be spending the rest of his years with us in that house he visited so often when he was a kid.

The rent is only $25 more a month than what we're paying for this place. It will be a REEEEEEEEAAAAAALLLLLLL drag moving shit again, but I think it will be an easier task than it was last time.

But we're in. Luck been a Lady tonight. If nothing unforeseen happens between now and then we will be settled not too long after the first of August. And I vow not to break this lease for as long as I live...okay, maybe I'd do it if the situation called for it...but I am not planning to move from there any time soon. I haven't been this excited since I found my seat at the KC Sigur Ros concert.

There are some other cool things that come with being in the new house. Things that have to do with retribution and justice prevailing over the long run. And other things about the myriad events that took place there that I will never forget. So many memories, such a story, the place has a history and save a decade, I was there to witness it all. I don't have nearly enough time to describe it all...

If I weren't so lazy I'd get up, get dressed and go to the casino.

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Music Video of the Week: Madonna

You must pause the music player at the top of the page before opening the video.
"Ray of Light"
Madonna

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I'm getting a fair amount of writing in on the new laptop. I was looking through the folder where I keep unfinished stuff and ideas, having transferred it to my computer, and I found a story that I didn't immediately recognize. Reading through it I was certain that I hadn't written it. To be honest, I thought it was better than most of the stuff I have written. It wasn't until the last of it that I finally realized that, yes, it was my work.

I liked it. I'd completely forgotten about it. I wonder how many more stories, essays, articles I have floating around in my documents, and throughout the archives of this blog, for that matter. I'm sure I will find more than a few incomplete books to add to, edit and whatever else needs to be done with them. I'd send them to a publisher if I weren't so sure they would merit anything loftier than a rejection slip. Besides, I have this blog and Chromosome 11 as depositories for it all, in a medium in which a visitor or two might actually stop in and read one or two. I would like it if people read and enjoyed these vignettes. But if not, oh well. I'll enjoy 'em a few years from now when I'm in the mood to look back at it all and become nostalgic. That's what it's all about.

At any rate, the reason I dredge that all up is to let you know that, although the blog posts have dropped off just a little bit, I assure you that material is being written for articles that will appear in the next several days. Maybe sooner if I get my internet wireless service hooked up. Side note: When I first got this laptop last week I got it up and running and woohoo, we were immediately piggy-backing someone else's wi-fi. But that all vanished within 254 hours...I still don't know where it came from.

The internet will wait. It will still be there, perpetually new and improved, when I come back to it. For now I'm gonna utilize the only three programs I have installed in it.

1. The first thing I installed was the ACID MUSIC STUDIO 7.0. It's the most addictive thing in the world to me, as far as computer activities go. Now I can take it wherever I happen to be going, sort of a "mobile studio". It may be a task trying to figure out the best ways to work it with a touch pad instead of a mouse. I can even use it as a game. Take random loops and mix them all together with the mute buttons all turned on, then see what they sound like...sort of like chance music. Something John Cage might do if he were working with the ACID.

2. The Sims. Bryan has already progressed into Sims 2 territory, so he didn't have much use for his copy of the original. So I went ahead and installed it on the laptop. In the past I have found this game to be frustrating and, in it's own way, rather difficult. In a strange way I see it as the electronic equivalent of playing God. Which I don't necessarily have a problem with. It's just hard as hell to do. If I uninstall any of these three programs to make room for another, it will be this one. But until then I'm going to see if it's become any easier to "play God" than it was a few years ago.

3. I am no video game player...meaning I am not a very good PC game player so I tend to avoid them. Still, I wish it were otherwise. So I bought a copy of Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas to try and get better and maybe lead to more gaming as I become more proficient with the way they work. I thought it would be a good idea to get one that's got a little humor in it. It makes me laugh. And I don't think it will lose it's novelty too soon.

That's it...3 programs and 6 Sigur Ros albums in the Windows Media Player, it's all I need until the wireless gets up and running. Those and the folders I imported from the desk top.

Have no fear, music lovers, I will make it a point to post the weekly music video. The only thing hard about that will be trying to think of who I want to feature. Sometimes this dillemna perplexes me to irritation, but usually I see the reality of the situation.

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CHRISTMAS
is only 6 months away!

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Live8 DVD: 1st half of first disc

To be perfectly honest, I was a bit underwhelmed by the Live8 concerts a couple of years ago. Music tastes change and I sort of gravitated away from pop/rock to more classical and new age genres, along with just a few modern acts (Sigur Ros, Sun Kil Moon, Autechre…basically the top 3 on my list). But when the DVD set was released I thought
it might be a good idea to own it, if for no other reason than to compliment my copy of the original Live Aid DVDs. I figured there would be at least more than a few entertaining performances in the lot. It’s almost worth the admission price for the Pink Floyd reunion alone. I remember seeing that one when the shows were on TV. Who could forget the tension between longtime foes Roger Waters and Dave Gilmour? But that’s just about all I can remember about the event.

A good idea to have both seminal concerts in my collection, so I went ahead and purchased the Live8 DVDs. I’m glad I did…having scanned a good portion of the first disc I think it will be just fine.

I come to this conclusion very early on…the first performance, actually. Paul McCartney, with U2, whip out a decent rendering of “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Heart’s Club Band”. Those Dublin boys sure make a good backing band. Nice and tight. The Live8 folks spared no expense and pulled out all the stops with a 4 piece French horn section, all decked out in original “Sgt. Pepper” uniforms. It all comes together as a fairly accurate representation of the original version.

Unfortunately Big Macca leaves the stage for now (I think he comes back later on, but I don’t have the program notes with me now, so I’m guessing). It’s all good, though, because U2’s performance is stellar. It was at Live Aid where they first broke through to a global audience, and they seem to be completely in their element in this follow-up. Nothing as awesome as the 1985 version of “Bad”, but “Beautiful Day” is exuberant and “Vertigo” does rock. The former is capped off with a nice (impromptu?) take on “Blackbird”. Perhaps a tip of the hat to Paul, who may well have been watching from the curtains. I can’t think of any other reason they may have done it.

The upbeat tone settles in as Bono croons out “One”. It is amazing how comfortable he seems to be on this stage in front of God knows how many thousands of people. He belts this song out as if he were in a small room amongst a small circle of friends. I suppose that’s how it’s supposed to be done. To all the people out there who think Mr. Vox is too cocky (and there are more than a few), I say “Pleeeeeeeeeeeeaze!” That’s what rock and roll is all about.

Then again, maybe not, as Chris Martin exudes a similar, not-quite-as-endearing cockiness trotting onto the stage with his Coldplay mates. They kick off with a nice enough version of “In My Place" which is all fine and good until the end vamping begins. Martin throws out the chorus of the Stones' “It’s Only Rock and Roll”, a propos of nothing. It sounds silly, but not have so much as when he tries to rev up the crowd with a little escalating call-and-response thing. You will have to see it to believe how pathetic it is.

And can anyone tell me what the fuck is up with all that colored tape around his fingers? And the bar-bones tattoo on his wrist that reminds me so much of Black Flag’s logo? I like Coldplay well enough, but I never realized what a bozo Chris Martin is (though I have heard rumors). Between “In My Place” and the next song, he tells the audience, “…thanks for coming to the Live8, and uh…this, of course, has to do with the G8, and uh…those people ARE pretty G8, but, uh, the person we’re going to introduce to you now would really make those guys look not so cool.”

HUH???



At which point Richard Ashcroft (formerly of the Verve) takes the stage and proceeds not only to make the “guys of G8” look “not so cool”, but Martin and Coldplay in the bargain. Ashcroft has a swagger and a confidence that suits “Bittersweet Symphony” well. I’d forgotten what a kick ass song this is. “I can change, I can change, I can change, I can change…but I’m here in my mold, I am here in my mold…” This live version is even better than the original, and that’s no small feat. Not to mention that he’s got Coldplay behind him, so that’s either a positive or a negative depending upon your personal opinion of that band.

Unfortunately Ashcroft only sticks around for the one song and CPlay get to do one more. “Fix You” is one I’m not too familiar with, even though I PROBABLY have the CD and, if so, have heard it enough times to where I SHOULD recognize it. This performance doesn’t bring back any memories, if such is the case. As they breeze through the number, pleasant enough as it is, I have to ask myself just how big a fan of theirs I actually am. My original thought was that these Coldplay songs might be highlights, but oh boy was I disappointed.

Elton John strides onto the stage next, flashing “peace” signs to the crowd, jumping up onto his piano bench where he stands defiantly as if daring the tough younger boys in the audience to step up to his geriatric ass. He soon settles behind the piano and backs up his claim of relevance with a super-charged “Bitch Is Back”. It’s as if he’s saying, “I can’t believe this song is 30 years old…I don’t even feel like I’M that old!” Indeed, he does rock pretty hard for an older bugger. “Saturday Night’s Alright For Frighting” follows, and the ivory-tinkling continues, veering even further into aggressive mode.

Reginald brings out Pete Doherty to massacre the old T Rex song, “Children of the Revolution”. I have not heard Doherty or his band, Babyshambles, though I have heard a lot about them. Not a whole lot of good things, either. I can tell, on first glance, that all the naysayers are probably right.

Pete shows up with uniform unbuttoned, hat cocked obnoxiously to the back of his head, a smattering of purple eye make-up and the most ridiculous cigar I’ve ever seen hanging from his mouth. It’s like bright green. Maybe I’m just too un-hip to know what’s up with that, but regardless, it looks mighty foolish.

Even so, I would have forgiven his fashion sense, had he impressed me with his vocal talents. No such luck. It can’t be hard to sing a Marc Bolan song. Surely not. Judging by this guy, though, it must be impossible.

Next, Dido is joined by Yousou N’Dour. I won’t pretend that I have the slightest interest in this pairing…for that matter, I have no plans to investigate the respective canons of either artist, now or in the future. It isn’t that I’m not “impressed”, just apathetic and this performance doesn’t change that at all.

A bit of culture shock kicks in as the Stereophonics turn up the distortion. I don’t know jack shit about them, either, although if this song (“The Bartender and the Thief”) is any indication of their typical style, I would have to come to the conclusion that the singer is a big Kurt Cobain fan. These guys aren’t too bad, even if the leather gear is a little too obvious for such a punk-influenced group.

Okay, this is where it gets wacky.

Michael Stipe strides to the center of the stage and---get this---he’s got this funky looking deep blue Lone Ranger mask---PAINTED ON HIS FACE!!! I’m thinking, who does he think he is, Peter Gabriel? Maynard from TOOL? This is Michael Stipe, people! The style of his band’s music lately lends itself more to cashmere sweaters than face paint. The sheen of the blue color really accentuate all the veinage on the side of his head. Another good reason he should have left the spray paint at home.

He grabs the mic as Berry & Mills get situated and pronounces, “Hello, we’re REM, and THIS is what we do.” What’s that, Mike? Paint your face and sing “Everybody Hurts” for the millionth time (50 of which were for similar “benefit” type things where it just seemed to be relevant to the cause)? I never really liked the song in the first place. The success of this song has been an unfortunate contributing factor to Stipe’s deciding he can actually sing. He can’t and he never could. He didn’t NEED to before they started doing pablum like this. This Live8 take is par for the course, Stipe’s delivery having degenerated with every performance he’s done since he recorded since the original.

They do one more song (only natural, since that’s “what they do”), “Man on the Moon”, before thankfully retiring from the show, about 10 minutes too late as far as I’m concerned. God, how I hate this song. It’s so weird…honestly, I was REM ‘s number one fan in the early-mid 80s. I thought Michael Stipe was the best frontman in all of alternative music. Now he grates on my nerves and, guilty by association, I cannot stand the band. Even though there may be a few of their tracks between “Document” and their recent album that I like well enough, Stipe’s bizarre streak and the overall vibe of REM over the last 15-20 years has disappointed me so much that I almost wish I’d never heard them.

Ms Dynamite has the luck to follow the REM contingent. Even though I have no doubt she’s kicking their collective asses, this is another case of a musical style being so alien to my tastes that I don’t feel qualified to offer an opinion. So I won’t.

My brother likes Keane and has tried, for some time, to bring me into the camp of music connoisseurs who appreciate them. “Somewhere Only We Know”, the song they do here, is decent enough. Actually it is very good, and makes me want to call the bro and take him up on his offer to let me borrow his Keane CD.

And so we leave the London concert for now to cross the pond and head to Philadelphia. All in all it was a decent opening. U2 and Richard Ashcroft were definitely the highlights. Elton performed above and beyond the call of duty, proving that you’re never too old to…well, to do whatever it is that Elton John does. Coldplay weren’t so bad as all that. The band itself was good, it’s just that Chris Martin seems so full of himself that he brings them all down. REM were the low point of this show. It really does pain me to say that. But every time I think of that insane blue mask I'll remember why I felt justified in saying it.

Lots of material on this disc...I'm barely halfway into it and I've got to take a break. More to come.

Until then...

One of these things is not like the others,
One of these things just doesn't belong,
Can you tell which thing is not like the others
By the time I finish my song?

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