kat.prettyposies.com

The top Finnish surf band

Yes, really. They're Laika and the Cosmonauts, and I heard them on NPR this weekend. They're great, even beyond the name, which must be one of the best band names ever. Their music seems to be all instrumental, which takes away any potential language barriers. And they're just . . . fun. I'm going to see them on Friday, so I'll post a better review after that. But if you're in the Boston area, you should go too! Details are on their site.

Happy music?

As I mentioned, I've been very very happy the past few days. (If you want to know why and haven't figured it out, e-mail me. There are a few people who need to be told individually before I can write anything specific here.) I've been wanting to tell the world, to sing and dance and show how joyful I am. This requires happy music.

I, apparently, own no happy music. I started thinking about it . . . and it makes sense, sort of. All my music tends to be of longing, for the future, for a specific person, for the unattainable in general. And really, from the time I started buying music (say high school), I was usually in that state of mind. I always had a crush on some unattainable friend or other. I was horribly bored in school, and longing for some sort of academic salvation. I never fit in socially. I never felt like I belonged. And the music I have . . . October Project, Billy Joel, Matchbox 20 . . . most of it seems to reflect this.

Right now, though, that's not what I need. I need something happy. So I find myself going back to the music of my childhood. I heard Bach's third Brandenburg Concerto on the radio this morning and it seemed just perfect. It made me want to take out my violin and play my happiness and hopefulness. (I haven't had a chance yet, but I will.) This afternoon I wanted something I could sing along to, so I've gone back to musicals and soundtracks--Rodgers and Hammerstein, Disney, Cole Porter.

Is it just the fact that this type of music is more upbeat than most of mine? That's partially it, I'm sure. But I'm not sure that's all of it. I think some of it has to do with reconnecting with the little girl I used to be. Even before this recent spate of happiness, I was trying to figure out what happened to me in high school and college, how I changed, whether the change was genuine or not. And some of it is, of course. But not all. Some of it is trying to fit in some role or other to which I assign myself. I want to stop that, and the current state of affairs might help. And in the meantime, I'm greatly enjoying singing along to Beauty and the Beast with Lumiere and just being . . . happy.

Everyone listen to Car Talk!

Just a quick note before bed: my best friend jaQ's song "Practical Car" will be played on this week's Car Talk show. Check your local NPR station for scheduling details. For anyone in New Hampshire, NHPR plays Car Talk at ten on Saturday mornings.

So come on, listen! And when you hear that great song at the end of the first segment, you'll be able to say "Hey, I know someone who knows him!"

All fancied up

Last night was exciting. jaQ got free Symphony tickets through work, so off we went to the big city of Manchester for the evening. We even got all dressed up:

It was a great evening. The program was "American Landscapes", which meant plenty of Copland and folk-inspired things. I did get a little sleepy toward the end, but I think that was my normal Saturday night exhaustion, and not a reflection on the music at all. The orchestra was smaller than I'd expected, but they were good, and the conductor seemed great.

And, of course, the concert got me thinking. I need to find a way to make the violin more a part of my life again. Ideally, I'd like to join some sort of community orchestra, but with the prospect of starting school soon (and an uncertain schedule), I don't feel that I can make that commitment. I can try to just play on my own, but I find that that's much harder with no sort of performance goal to work toward. Maybe I need to just set a goal for myself? Pick some pieces I want to learn and give myself a deadline? That could work, but those false deadlines and requirements never really have the same power. I just don't know. Any ideas?

When you hear things over and over . . .

. . . you really start to figure out what you like. We've had most of the same CDs on the overhead at work for the past few days, and I've come to some conclusions. First of all, I'm about ready to ring Jack Johnson's self-importantly apathetic little neck. The first time his CD came on, it made me stop and think, "Huh. That's interesting. I wonder what that is?" It was different from most of what we play downstairs in the store, which tends to run to classical compilations, sedate jazz, and an appalling amount of Seal, and it was rather ear-catching at first. By a few songs in, though, I was thinking "All right, already. What's next?" And by today, when I heard it for the third or fourth time, I had developed an intense hatred for the CD and probably for Jack Johnson himself. On and On indeed.

I have, however, also found a CD that seems to keep improving as you listen to it over and over. And I'm not alone in this opinion. An increasing percentage of the staff is thoroughly addicted to Torch Songs. It's a compilation of, well, torch songs, and it has just about everyone on it, from Ella to Aretha, including Eva Cassidy, Diana Ross, Judy Garland, K.D. Lang, Dinah Washington, Carly Simon, and more. Some of the songs that have stuck out to me the most are "The Man I Love," "Autumn Leaves," and "But Not For Me," but really, they're all great. This CD has definitely made its way onto my to-buy list in the past few days. Go check it out. You'll like it.

You must listen . . .

. . . to my new favorite song. I e-mailed jaQ that he should learn it, but on second thought, maybe I'll learn it myself.