I'd Post The Fever Ray Acceptance Speech...

But really, it's so terrifying that I don't even want to Google it. The melted-candle-face-gum-on-bottom-of-shoe look is what nightmares and Pan's Labyrinth are made of. The whole "I don't like showing my face" schtick is has been done and is rather annoying, considering by going to great lengths to avoid showing your face, you're drawing an unbelievable amount of attention towards it. And for fuck's sake, Karin Dreijer Andersson is actually pretty. Leave the face altering for the rest of us and the geniuses at NARS, okay?

Things You Should Go To.

I'm like 95% sure I read this post yesterday and one of the questions was "Do you like an open bar?" which my heavy nod up and down proved yes to and I made a mental note about it, but maybe I misread the band name and was daydreaming of feet in the sand and hands clutching a rum runner and made it all up. But I guess, yeah, I'd be okay hanging out with Beach House, and though I probably can't tell the difference between who's in Beach House and who's just from Brooklyn, I'm in. I think my subconscious is hoping for a frozen drink or at least a cup o' booze with an umbrella in it...but we'll just have to wait and see if my hump day dreams come true.

A few weeks away, but a free Wavves show! at BK Bowl! for Mardi Gras! And there's a parade before, which I honestly just hope is people standing on Bedford watching people mill about. Because really, in a place where people wear spangly leggings and odd hats just because it's another day is as much an interactive parade you can get without someone twirling a baton or waving with a cupped hand. Though, they say there's a float, so I don't know what kind of serious song-and-dance-and-huge-balooning will be happening.

In With The New, Out With The Old

I feel like I get a little older every time I listen to NPR. Like a grey hair shoots up out of my head or a tiny wrinkle appears around my eyes, because NPR is for people who count "gardening" among their hobbies, for grandparents in their Cadillac, for people who reference Jimmy Carter once a day, and those who pronounce it n-p-rrrrrrrrr.

But lately, i don't give a fuck if my pockets are full of used Kleenex and Werther's Originals. They've been having such unbelievable first listen album streams on their site that i don't mind if visiting it twice a day turns me into a California Raisin. (Though, considering i'm an indoors kid to the core and never go outside in the sunshine, this would be highly unfortunate.) So, bring on the six memories of my youth that i'll never stop repeating as stories to everyone I know - as long as National Public Radio keeps bringing me the pre-release tunes they've been offering as of late, I'll be good to go.

Listen to Midlake, Beach House, Charlotte Gainsbourg and more at NPR right now. (Try to avoid getting cataracts on the way.)



MARRY ME, MARCUS MUMFORD.

The shades, the suits, the fucking mopeds - who would have thought four bluegrass-y musicians on scooters mouthing words to a song could look so god damn cool? I don't know where they're going or what they're doing or why this reminds me so much of Wes Anderson, but what I do know is that I haven't been this attracted to something I didn't understand since Zac Hanson and his girly hair mesmerized me all through middle school.

Watch the (un-embeddable) video here.

Couch Session: HYMNS

Couch Session #1 - HYMNS.

A tiny amp, a boy attached,
a maraca inside a winter hat.
Munching on elementary snacks and home-brought beer,
carrot sticks and pretzels nullified any fear.
Guinea pigs were HYMNS, you see,
the first to bring tunes to you and me.
So we hope you enjoy this duo's sweet songs,
and keep them playing all night long.

 

 

(I somehow ended up in this video, despite not being able to stay on the beat. Apologies, friends.)

 

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