Image courtesy of The Blankett's Myspace
Luckily enough, I was also able to find a very good live recording of Pallett's cover.
It's been on repeat ever since.
MP3: Owen Pallett, Live in NYC, "Independence Is No Solution"
Friday, February 19, 2010
Babies, they only wanna dance...
I recently posted about a cover song by Owen Pallett. Thanks to a comment from blog reader Honeyschool, turns out the song is by Steve Kado, recorded under the name of The Blankket.
Image courtesy of The Blankett's Myspace
Luckily enough, I was also able to find a very good live recording of Pallett's cover.
It's been on repeat ever since.
MP3: Owen Pallett, Live in NYC, "Independence Is No Solution"
Image courtesy of The Blankett's Myspace
Luckily enough, I was also able to find a very good live recording of Pallett's cover.
It's been on repeat ever since.
MP3: Owen Pallett, Live in NYC, "Independence Is No Solution"
Monday, February 15, 2010
Independence is no solution
Last thursday, Owen Pallett performed in Halifax, at - his now usual haunt - St. Matthew's Cathedral in Halifax.
He performed this song (not recorded on site) and I have had it stuck in my head ever since. I know that it's a cover, but have been having a hard time finding any more info. Any and all will be appreciated.
He performed this song (not recorded on site) and I have had it stuck in my head ever since. I know that it's a cover, but have been having a hard time finding any more info. Any and all will be appreciated.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Disco Recommendations.
My friend Andre asked me for some disco suggestions.
"I thought disco was dead," he said.
It just went underground and got dirty. When it decided to come back up, it came back with a polished vengeance.
Take for example, all the wonderful tracks and remixes coming out of Scandinavia, such as Lindstrom, Prins Thomas and Todd Terje
Or sometimes you just want things to be a little rougher.
As I have mentioned before, it's all about THE EDIT.
An edit is what it sounds like. Take a record, edit out the shitty bits, pump up the best bits. Like this edit of a Talking Heads song, put out by Disco Deviance..
Personally, I'm rather fond of this track, which is considered an edit, but could easily be termed a mash-up (which is a term which leads me to negative knee-jerk reactions).
Take one part Candi Staton and one part Electra, and you get this beautiful piece of dark days of disco goodness.
"I thought disco was dead," he said.
It just went underground and got dirty. When it decided to come back up, it came back with a polished vengeance.
Take for example, all the wonderful tracks and remixes coming out of Scandinavia, such as Lindstrom, Prins Thomas and Todd Terje
Or sometimes you just want things to be a little rougher.
As I have mentioned before, it's all about THE EDIT.
An edit is what it sounds like. Take a record, edit out the shitty bits, pump up the best bits. Like this edit of a Talking Heads song, put out by Disco Deviance..
Personally, I'm rather fond of this track, which is considered an edit, but could easily be termed a mash-up (which is a term which leads me to negative knee-jerk reactions).
Take one part Candi Staton and one part Electra, and you get this beautiful piece of dark days of disco goodness.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Wolf Parade in Halifax.
It was recently annouced that Wolf Parade will be playing in Halifax, on April 3rd, at the Paragon.
Tickets go on sale this friday through Ticketpro.
All day long, I have had "I'll believe in anything" stuck in my head.
This is a good way to spend the day.
Tickets go on sale this friday through Ticketpro.
All day long, I have had "I'll believe in anything" stuck in my head.
This is a good way to spend the day.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Gentle Kate.
Kate McGarrigle died today.
The first time I heard Kate, and her sister Anna, sing, I didn’t even know who the McGarrigles were. I have memories of sitting in front of a large floor model television – VHF & UHF – and watching “The Log Driver’s Waltz”. It was the very early 80’s and a small NFB vignette, with an earworm for a hook, would mark many people of my generation:
“Do you remember that old cartoon? You know, the one that would play at the end of television shows, usually on the CBC?”
But I didn’t know who sang it. Few of us did. We could remember a melody, perhaps describe a few frames or scenes in the cartoon. But it stuck to us, a mnemonic cultural palimpsest, held onto by thirty and fortysomethings across Canada.
In 1999, I was taking care of a friend’s apartment while he was away. I had quite recently broken up with someone – my first real relatonship - and so I spent a lot of time alone in that apartment nursing my wounds. It was the summer and the apartment had a beautiful solarium that overlooked the neighbour’s small garden. I’d sit at the wooden table in the solarium reading, writing and listening to the few CD’s my friend had left behind.
One of them was The McGarrigle Hour. I had heard of The McGarrigles. I was – as I am now – a fan of Rufus Wainwright and I knew that Kate was his mother and that she and her sister were artists in their own right. But that was it. I couldn’t tell you what songs they had written, or what their sound was like, or how or if they were significant.
The CD had been left in the player, so it was the first thing I heard in that apartment.
I pressed play.
Here were these two voices, one slightly husky, the other light and airy.
I was a fan of a few folk artists and singer-songwriters. But most of them were self-indulgent, self-reflective folks. Here were two people, singing (and writing) simple melodies that spoke outside of themselves.
I listened to that album over and over during the ten days I spent in that apartment. On the last day, I went out and bought a copy of the album.
That album went everywhere with me. It went with me on car trips. It went with me when I went to visit my parents. It made frequent rotations on the CD player when I hosted my own radio show on a campus station.
I introduced my sister to the album. It wasn’t the type of album she would normally listen to, but I told her she should listen to it. It stuck with her as well.
I bought more of Kate and Anna’s albums. My sister and I talked about Montreal when we listened to “Complainte Pour Ste. Catherine”. I would find myself humming “Perrine etait servante”, without even knowing it. When my sister got married, we all danced to “La porte en arriere”.
When Kate and Anna came to Halifax a couple years ago, my sister and I got free tickets through a friend of mine. The concert hall was only half-full. I felt bad for the McGarrigles, but even worse for the people who didn’t know what they were missing.
One of my favorite moments of the show was when Kate, Anna and all of the musicians stood up and sang, “Dig My Grave”.
Go and dig my grave
Both long and narrow
Make my coffin
Neat and strong
My sister and I smiled, as this was one of our favourites. The voices carried out, over the half empty seats, defying death, even as it called for it.
And my little soul’s
Gonna shine like a star
And my little soul’s
Gonna shine like a star
bound for cavalry.
It was only last year, as I was talking to a friend of mine , that I found the connection between my very cherished childhood memory and Kate & Anna. I found a pixelated video of the NFB vignette on YouTube and watched it. Over and over again. I showed it to anyone and everyone who remembered it, and introduced it to others who didn’t.
Last month, I discovered the NFB website, and found, to my great joy, that the Log Driver’s Waltz could be find on the website. I watched it all over again. Every time I did, I could remember myself reaching up to turn the volume knob on the old floor model television set.
And then today, my sister sent me an email. Telling me that Kate had passed away. The text of the email was nothing more than a link to her obit, a CBC news story, and an exclamation mark next to the link, marking its importance.
I suddently felt deeply saddened. And this puzzled me. Kate McGarrigle was no more. Why did I care? At one point in the day, I came across a picture of a very young Kate, smiling, and I felt a chill. I felt a chill for a woman I had never met. A woman I only knew as a childhood memory. A song.
*
When I got home, I dug through my CDs to find my copy of The McGarrigle Hour. The first song I played was “What’ll I do”, the Irving Berlin cover.
What’ll I do
When you are far away
And I am blue
What’ll I do.
The first time I heard this song was in that apartment where I house-sat. I remember reading in the liner notes that when Kate and Anna’s mother died in 1994, that they had sung this song at her funeral. They recorded the song for the album in one take. Kate, her ex-husband and father to Rufus, Martha. The notes described how the family “who had never sat down to a Christmas turkey together, let alone sing a song”, came together to sing this song. And it is wondrous.
Part of me imagines them singing this song, all over again.
I only wish they didn’t have to.
The first time I heard Kate, and her sister Anna, sing, I didn’t even know who the McGarrigles were. I have memories of sitting in front of a large floor model television – VHF & UHF – and watching “The Log Driver’s Waltz”. It was the very early 80’s and a small NFB vignette, with an earworm for a hook, would mark many people of my generation:
“Do you remember that old cartoon? You know, the one that would play at the end of television shows, usually on the CBC?”
But I didn’t know who sang it. Few of us did. We could remember a melody, perhaps describe a few frames or scenes in the cartoon. But it stuck to us, a mnemonic cultural palimpsest, held onto by thirty and fortysomethings across Canada.
In 1999, I was taking care of a friend’s apartment while he was away. I had quite recently broken up with someone – my first real relatonship - and so I spent a lot of time alone in that apartment nursing my wounds. It was the summer and the apartment had a beautiful solarium that overlooked the neighbour’s small garden. I’d sit at the wooden table in the solarium reading, writing and listening to the few CD’s my friend had left behind.
One of them was The McGarrigle Hour. I had heard of The McGarrigles. I was – as I am now – a fan of Rufus Wainwright and I knew that Kate was his mother and that she and her sister were artists in their own right. But that was it. I couldn’t tell you what songs they had written, or what their sound was like, or how or if they were significant.
The CD had been left in the player, so it was the first thing I heard in that apartment.
I pressed play.
Here were these two voices, one slightly husky, the other light and airy.
I was a fan of a few folk artists and singer-songwriters. But most of them were self-indulgent, self-reflective folks. Here were two people, singing (and writing) simple melodies that spoke outside of themselves.
I listened to that album over and over during the ten days I spent in that apartment. On the last day, I went out and bought a copy of the album.
That album went everywhere with me. It went with me on car trips. It went with me when I went to visit my parents. It made frequent rotations on the CD player when I hosted my own radio show on a campus station.
I introduced my sister to the album. It wasn’t the type of album she would normally listen to, but I told her she should listen to it. It stuck with her as well.
I bought more of Kate and Anna’s albums. My sister and I talked about Montreal when we listened to “Complainte Pour Ste. Catherine”. I would find myself humming “Perrine etait servante”, without even knowing it. When my sister got married, we all danced to “La porte en arriere”.
When Kate and Anna came to Halifax a couple years ago, my sister and I got free tickets through a friend of mine. The concert hall was only half-full. I felt bad for the McGarrigles, but even worse for the people who didn’t know what they were missing.
One of my favorite moments of the show was when Kate, Anna and all of the musicians stood up and sang, “Dig My Grave”.
Go and dig my grave
Both long and narrow
Make my coffin
Neat and strong
My sister and I smiled, as this was one of our favourites. The voices carried out, over the half empty seats, defying death, even as it called for it.
And my little soul’s
Gonna shine like a star
And my little soul’s
Gonna shine like a star
bound for cavalry.
It was only last year, as I was talking to a friend of mine , that I found the connection between my very cherished childhood memory and Kate & Anna. I found a pixelated video of the NFB vignette on YouTube and watched it. Over and over again. I showed it to anyone and everyone who remembered it, and introduced it to others who didn’t.
Last month, I discovered the NFB website, and found, to my great joy, that the Log Driver’s Waltz could be find on the website. I watched it all over again. Every time I did, I could remember myself reaching up to turn the volume knob on the old floor model television set.
And then today, my sister sent me an email. Telling me that Kate had passed away. The text of the email was nothing more than a link to her obit, a CBC news story, and an exclamation mark next to the link, marking its importance.
I suddently felt deeply saddened. And this puzzled me. Kate McGarrigle was no more. Why did I care? At one point in the day, I came across a picture of a very young Kate, smiling, and I felt a chill. I felt a chill for a woman I had never met. A woman I only knew as a childhood memory. A song.
*
When I got home, I dug through my CDs to find my copy of The McGarrigle Hour. The first song I played was “What’ll I do”, the Irving Berlin cover.
What’ll I do
When you are far away
And I am blue
What’ll I do.
The first time I heard this song was in that apartment where I house-sat. I remember reading in the liner notes that when Kate and Anna’s mother died in 1994, that they had sung this song at her funeral. They recorded the song for the album in one take. Kate, her ex-husband and father to Rufus, Martha. The notes described how the family “who had never sat down to a Christmas turkey together, let alone sing a song”, came together to sing this song. And it is wondrous.
Part of me imagines them singing this song, all over again.
I only wish they didn’t have to.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
I've got a tape I want to play.
This is just another reason why I love edits.
Take the best bits, stretch them out until you're begging for more.
Take the best bits, stretch them out until you're begging for more.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
It keeps coming until the beat stops.
LCD Soundsystem's "45:33" is a concept album, an exercise in marketing, a trial for a (then) upcoming album and an exploration into disco, in all of its guises.
From cosmic to leftfield to four-on-the-floor beats to soft and mildly ambient synths.
The 2nd (or 3rd portion, depending on what cuts/edition you have) is probably my favorite. Although I am known to drop the next part when I spin records at parties, this is the one I pull out more often when I am looking for rainy days songs, or for a little bit of disco zen.
The song would later be re-cut and re-edited to be used in the song "Someone Great", my favorite track on "Sound Of Silver". To be honest, it was my least favorite the first time I heard it. I thought of it as a bit of a throw away.
Then one night at a friend's summer party, we sat outside, with the song blaring through the windows. It was in the middle of nowhere, and that lonesome lull of a synth-laden bassline hooked me. Right in the heart.
And then I listened. Really listened. And I understood.
The instrumental version does not have the same lyrical push to it, but I feel that by listening to it, I feel like the two songs are almost palimpsests of one another. You get the feeling it conveys, even without the melancoly lyrics. And you still feel the open space even when you concentrate on the words being spoken-sung to you.
From cosmic to leftfield to four-on-the-floor beats to soft and mildly ambient synths.
The 2nd (or 3rd portion, depending on what cuts/edition you have) is probably my favorite. Although I am known to drop the next part when I spin records at parties, this is the one I pull out more often when I am looking for rainy days songs, or for a little bit of disco zen.
The song would later be re-cut and re-edited to be used in the song "Someone Great", my favorite track on "Sound Of Silver". To be honest, it was my least favorite the first time I heard it. I thought of it as a bit of a throw away.
Then one night at a friend's summer party, we sat outside, with the song blaring through the windows. It was in the middle of nowhere, and that lonesome lull of a synth-laden bassline hooked me. Right in the heart.
And then I listened. Really listened. And I understood.
The instrumental version does not have the same lyrical push to it, but I feel that by listening to it, I feel like the two songs are almost palimpsests of one another. You get the feeling it conveys, even without the melancoly lyrics. And you still feel the open space even when you concentrate on the words being spoken-sung to you.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
New Modeselektor track
Oh, Modeselektor, how I love thee.
You know, I don't care if Silikon is four years old. I still dig it.
You know, I don't care if Silikon is four years old. I still dig it.
The Cold Song
This song just popped into my head #3
Don't ask me why.
But it did.
And I am glad.
Klaus Nomi was an alien god among men. R.I.P.
Don't ask me why.
But it did.
And I am glad.
Klaus Nomi was an alien god among men. R.I.P.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
I had forgotten...
This song just popped into my head #2
...how much I love Iron & Wine.
I mean, it goes beyond the beard love, but the first time I heard him, I thought to myself, "These are the songs that I would want to hear sung to me, in the middle of the night, very quietly, while laying in bed."
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
Every song from a heart this mangled will be draped in strings, strings, strings
Image by Paul Hammond
I was lucky enough to meet Owen Pallett, a.k.a. Final Fantasy last time he performed here in Halifax. I think one of the most surreal moments I have experienced in the past few years was sitting in a dingy bar talking to him about Japanese literature while alcoholic gamblers played VLTs behind us.
I contacted Pallett a few months ago when I found out that he would be performing in Halifax during this year’s Halifax Pop Explosion. I wanted to interview him about the show, his career and his upcoming album, “Heartland”.
*
Your father was a church organist, correct? Did you grow up surrounded by ecclesiastical music, or was there any room for a bit of pop music in there?
FF: My favourite records, by age, were as follows. 3: Pachebel's Canon. 4: Vivaldi Four Seasons. 5: Bach Double Violin Concerto. 6: Holst The Planets. 7: Bartok Music For Strings, Percussion and Celeste. 8: Prokofiev Romeo And Juliet. 9: Stravinsky Rite Of Spring. 10: Digital Underground Sex Packets. 11: Jean Michel Jarre Oxygene. 12: Shostakovich 10th Symphony. 13: Black Sabbath Paranoid. 14: Sibelius 1st Symphony. 15: Bjork Post. 16: Tori Amos Boys For Pele. 17: Pink Floyd Animals. 18: US Maple Long Hair In Three Stages.
There. You can trace my entire history.
Have you ever wanted to do any arrangements of any "classical" pieces and record/perform them? I remember seeing you live for the first time a few years ago and thinking, 'I wonder what he would do with Part's "Fratres"…"
FF: No. I don't really think it's necessary. "Classical" pieces are concert pieces, meant for live performance. There's no point in trying to recreate a Mahler symphony on record. Also, in the 70s, I felt that it was pretty clear that most 'electro-acoustic' composers didn't give a shit about what was going on in pop music. Now, it's totally different. New music composers are writing albums, they're getting into how they sound. Honestly, I think 2008 was the best year for music, ever.
I heard about the performance you contributed to at Pop Montreal where you and members of Bell Orchestre created a new soundtrack to "Cruisin' 57". How did that come about?
FF: Well, Stef Schneider used his swishy-sense to contact me. I was busy banging some dude and all of a sudden, a message came in on my gaytennae. It said, "zzzzzrallyinmontrealzzzzzbringgaypr0ntothehipstermasseszzzzzzzpleaseconfirminvolvement". I thought to myself, "Gay porn? Hipsters? I'm there." Then I got in my penismobile and spurted off to Montreal. We rehearsed in between dinner parties and bathhouse visits.
In truth, Stef e-mailed me and I said, "OK."
The last time I emailed you, you were walking on something for the Pet Shop Boys. How was it working with Neil Tennant, a man who is arguably one of the greatest queer pop songcrafters of all time?
Awesome! He has a really strong Newcastle accent, though; it was difficult to understand him over the phone. Which is ironic! Because he has the finest elocution of all pop singers. But the new songs are great, they're a band that never fell off.
What was it like to work with the Pet Shop Boys?
Amazing!
Did the twelve-year-old gay kid in you get a little freaked out?
A little bit. Neil was sweet, complimented me on some Youtubes he'd seen and He Poos Clouds album. I have a hard time coming back and saying, "Well, Being Boring changed my life." I should've said so.
You've collaborated with everyone from Zach Condon to Grizzly Bear to Fucked Up. What is it about collaborations that bring about so much in you?
When you're a solo musician, there's no way of getting accurate feedback on your work. Except applause (measured in seconds). I love working with other musicians, just so that you can occasionally get a "that sucks!"
But your collaborations are rather disparate. Do Pet Shop Boys have anything in common with Fucked Up?
No, both collaborations were very different, obviously. Every collaboration is different. Pet Shop Boys, I didn't even meet the guys until later. Fucked Up, I didn't hear anything or score anything before recording, I just worked it out with them in the studio. Arcade Fire, they have clear ideas of what they're looking for, so I typically work with the entire band---especially Win, Regine, Sarah and Marika---in realizing their goals. I have a borderline perverse fascination with being entirely "at your service". It's wonderful.
Who have you yet to collaborate with that you would love to?
There are too many people to name. Thomas, my guitarist, we're only just starting to get to know each other musically, I'm really excited about working with him on writing some new songs.
Name a few, just for shits and giggles. (I personally have always wanted to do something with Yoko Ono).
Diamanda Galas, obviously. Dagmar Krause, Buffy Sainte-Marie and Dolly Parton.
Has anyone asked that you have said "No" to?
A few. Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark asked me to do some work for them, orchestrating their early hits, but I those songs are too dear to me, it felt like I was asked to tattoo my children. After working on "Souvenir" for a couple of weeks, I turned them down. I once said no to Of Montreal, although I regret it. I did an arrangement for a song on Spoon's "Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga" album, I thought it was one of the best arrangements I'd ever written, but they turned it down.
How did you react to their "no"?
I cried for about six seconds and then I stepped up my game.
You also are well known for performing covers of everything from Mariah to John Cale. Where does this love of covers come from?
I work on lots of covers at home, most of which you'll never hear.
Damn. You've done one album of covers, would you ever do another? Maybe of various artists, a la Cat Power?
I'd definitely love to do another album, covering another single artist. Or even more Alex Lukashevsky songs.
Are you sick of playing any?
Most of them, except Simon Bookish.
Have any of the artists whom you've covered contacted you to let you know what they think of your covers?
OMD did, Andy McClusky was really sweet about it.
What have you yet to cover that you think you should?
Hmm, I don't know. I used to really enjoy playing covers. In 2005, it really felt like not as many people were doing covers of contemporary songs, except for laffs. Now, though, it's out of control. You've got Glee doing po-faced versions of everything. Rappers covering indie, classical musicians covering IDM. It's mostly great, but I think the final straw for me was seeing that shiteous Dan Black cover of Biggie Smalls, that really, really damaged me and I don't think I'll ever try and cover anything ever again.
You've worked with so many people; do you ever feel like you're not giving yourself enough time for yourself and your work?
Always! But when I'm alone, I get lonely really quickly. I can work for a couple of days on my own before I start e-mailing Elton John, like, "Sir? Sir? Need an arrangement? What about now? How about now?"
How do you feel about performing with a symphony?
Excited like you wouldn't believe. There's a large part of me that wants to go out and get a camel raincoat, brimmed hat and thick brown spectacles. Walk around Halifax like an L.A. composer. But I'm restraining myself.
You were classically trained. Do you think your music fits in a symphonic format?
Not really. I studied classical but my heart and my ears are for pop albums. It's a funny thing, right? My boyfriend did cinema studies and now all he wants to watch is Lindsay Lohan. I'm dating a Cinema Studies graduate and I've never seen a single Truffaut.
That said, I've wanted to make an orchestral album for some time and I'm excited that I might be able to share some songs in that format. Nostrovia!
If you were to perform a traditional "classical" piece, what would it be?
Galina Ustvolskaya doesn't sound anything like Final Fantasy but I've always thought our music comes from the same place.
You're constantly touring. How do you find time to write/compose?
I have a laptop.
You once told me you have moments where you wonder if what you're doing is worthwhile. How do you fight that?
There are a tonne of things I could say about this, but most are best saved for therapy. Essentially, I feel that the music scene that I grew up with, and the values and currencies that shaped me, that scene is long past. I'm not talking about file sharing--although it is a hideously manic thing for a musician to consider that their music is both worthless and yet eagerly shared. I'm talking about the surprising things that free music has midwifed. The value of music writing, for example; many people would rather read about music than listen to it. Which is really interesting! But it's also kind of weird, as a musician.
*
Final Fantasy performs with Symphony Nova Scotia, Friday October 23rd, at the Rebecca Cohn Auditorium in Halifax.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Into the realm of Final Fantasy
This Friday, in conjunction with the Halifax Pop Explosion, Owen Pallett, a.k.a., Final Fantasy, is performing with Symphony Nova Scotia at the Rebecca Cohn Auditorium.
Image courtesy of Final Fantasy Eternal
I have recently interviewed Pallett for this blog (which should be posted by Friday) as well as hopefully a radio interview for CKDU's (and J-school) The Radio Room.
I'll keep you posted!
Image courtesy of Final Fantasy Eternal
I have recently interviewed Pallett for this blog (which should be posted by Friday) as well as hopefully a radio interview for CKDU's (and J-school) The Radio Room.
I'll keep you posted!
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Why didn't I listen to this earlier: Rufus & Chaka Khan
Disco is not a dirty word #15
Why didn't I listen to this earlier #1
Occasionally you will buy or find something and you might think, "I should really check this out." I'm not talking about a recent album, I'm talking about an album or an artists that is so intrinsic to popular culture (or a particular sub-culture) that you kind of ignore them because you think either:
a.) they're not worth knowing
b.) you'll hear it eventually.
And that's how I ended up buying this album by Rufus & Chaka Khan:
It's been sitting among a pile of other records that I had yet to listen to. "I'll get to it eventually".
And now, I can't take it off my turntable.
Why I didn't listen to this before, I don't know.
Enjoy
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
The Phenomenal Handclap Band:
Disco is not a dirty word #14
For fans of Munk, !!!, Liquid Liquid and live disco bands. A 12" was released a few weeks ago, featuring remixed by Horse Meat Disco
Enjoy.
For fans of Munk, !!!, Liquid Liquid and live disco bands. A 12" was released a few weeks ago, featuring remixed by Horse Meat Disco
Enjoy.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Pop
This song just popped into my head #1
Beth Orton, "The Sweetest Decline", from Central Reservation.
Don't mind the cheesy images. Just close your eyes.
Edit:
So as I am looking up other songs by Beth Orton, including, "I wish I never saw the sunshine", and little do I know, but it's actually a song by the Ronnettes!!!
Listen and be wowed.
Beth Orton, "The Sweetest Decline", from Central Reservation.
Don't mind the cheesy images. Just close your eyes.
Edit:
So as I am looking up other songs by Beth Orton, including, "I wish I never saw the sunshine", and little do I know, but it's actually a song by the Ronnettes!!!
Listen and be wowed.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
The last episode of Moody Morning Music
I'm in the mood for this #28
Today, July 21st, 2009, is the day I finish my radio show on CKDU. I have been doing Moody Morning Music for over five years now and have pretty much loved every second of it. But because of scheduling conflicts, I can no longer continue.
I'd like to thank the guests who have come on the show (Jose Gonzalez, Joel Gibb of the Hidden Cameras, Paul Hammond, Ruby Jean & The Thoughtful Bees to name a few) as well as team CKDU and all of those who exposed me to new music. Thank you.
You can find past playlists here and you can download the last episode here. The playlist is encoded into the mp3.
Thank you.
Today, July 21st, 2009, is the day I finish my radio show on CKDU. I have been doing Moody Morning Music for over five years now and have pretty much loved every second of it. But because of scheduling conflicts, I can no longer continue.
I'd like to thank the guests who have come on the show (Jose Gonzalez, Joel Gibb of the Hidden Cameras, Paul Hammond, Ruby Jean & The Thoughtful Bees to name a few) as well as team CKDU and all of those who exposed me to new music. Thank you.
You can find past playlists here and you can download the last episode here. The playlist is encoded into the mp3.
Thank you.
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