I been Norman Mailered,MaxwellTaylored.
I been John O'Hara'd,McNamara'd.
I been Rolling Stoned and Beatled till I'm blind.
I been Ayn Randed, nearly branded
Communist, 'cause I'm left-handed.
That's the hand I use, well, never mind!
I been Phil Spectored, resurrected.
I been Lou Adlered, Barry Sadlered.
Well, I paid all the dues I want to pay.
And I learned the truth from Lenny Bruce,
And all my wealth won't buy me health,
So I smoke a pint of tea a day.
I knew a man, his brain was so small,
He couldn't think of nothing at all.
He's not the same as you and me.
He doesn't dig poetry. He's so unhip that
When you say Dylan, he thinks you're talking about Dylan Thomas,
Whoever he was.
The man ain't got no culture,
But it's alright, ma,
Everybody must get stoned.
I been Mick Jaggered, silver daggered.
Andy Warholed, won't you please come home?
I been mothered, fathered, aunt and uncled,
Been Roy Haleed and Art Garfunkeled.
I just discovered somebody's tapped my phone
- A Simple Desultory Philippic(Or How I was Lyndon Johnsoned into Submission) by Paul Simon
Friday, October 14, 2005
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Oh! Play that thing!
Maybe it was those years of NEVER forgetting to sign off a post on a forum without a N.P postscript...I have decided to tattoo my now playing list onto the side bar. It might not be very up-to-date (Where's technology when you need it? You have saunas in belts and T.Vs on your wrist, but those geekiod dudes haven't still figured out how to get my CD player to talk to my blog!), but hey, at least then, the oft-imposed "stop embrassing yourself" routines, would make me stop listening to Fiddy Cent ;)
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Rockin' with a Southern Twang
After one of my most adventurous shopping sprees, I found myself staring at a list that definitely needed a categorization called "Miscellaneous" in my CD rack. One among them was a more contemporary buy - Drops of Jupiter by Train.
This record has served as a much needed respite to my otherwise progressive-music-obsessed ear drums. Train's sound is very definitive throughout the course of album, bringing back flashes of reminiscences of altie bands bordering classic rock such as Counting Crows . Yet Patrick Monahan's southern twangy vocals give that not-so-somber edge to the tracks . And what is the most surprising element to the record, the band and the genre as a whole is their extensive employment of orchestrative elements to certain tracks, including the title one, which has apparently gone platinum. Somehow I could so imagine Michael Stipe aceing this track with much ease in a vocal trip which seemed (to me) to have been composed with him and only him in the mind. But not taking anything away from Monahan, who has thankfully not tried to do too much with the vocal bit and hence not taken the fizz away from the ensemble arrangements ( With all due respect and awe to the vocalists of progressive music, reaching the crescendo while the violins, the cellos and the piano hits the highest notes is something that does not always pay off). The record opens with the quintessential breezy rocksy number called "She's on Fire", replete with the singalong chorus, strong background vocal verses, a couple of groovy bass grooves and an otherwise uncomplicated melody, which Monahan takes from countryish to towering a little often ,before smoothening into a more classic sounding " I wish you would" with its "toda-todos". Drops of Jupiter comes in next and scores highly on good positioning as it distinguishes itself with its uniqueness from the first two tracks. The follow-up to this freshness is a very ordinary rendition of a straightforward melody called "It's about you". Next on the list "Hopeless" has this peaceful acoustic riff for a beginning, which resurfaces now and then in the track. The song called "Respect" took me aback with a drum roll akin to a song out of 'My generation' at the start, but that's where the similarity ended and so did my respect for the track, until the climactic verses where the pace of the song heightens rapidly without any warning or indication, much to your pleasure. "Let it roll"is a subdued ode to the vocalist's late mother,which has a longish instrumental patch uncharacteristic of their earlier tracks. Orchestral accompaniments rear their heads in "Something more", making you wonder and debate upon whether it should have been used in a more uninhibited manner or whether these fleeting glimpses of them which actually make them work. Near the tail end, 'whipping boy' has an expected structure with its forced soaring verses. At the tail end of the track list,"Getaway" has a melody line, which is pleasantly different. The last track would be my pick from the CD along with the title track being a close second. "Mississippi" has a strong bassline, which conventionally gets a lot of brownie points with me, an uncaged killer of an acoustic progression and sproadic saxophone trimmings, which leave a lasting impression and wins the reclusive presses on the "repeat" button.
I must reiterate the sound of Train is compact and very definitive, but the song structures and the genre itself to a great extent leave room for nothing than predictability. Something that I am not so used having been accustomed to my fair share of Steven Wilsons, Robert Fripps and Trent Gardners. But in its own rights, most of the songs have a crunchy overtone which is accentuated by Manohan's country singer-ish voice, with which he does not over strive too much and hence does not go for an overkill. The CD might have just a few brilliant sections, but more importantly it does not touch the sub standard curve ever. Whether or not, it would be spinning in my deck would be another question altogether, but it does reek in a 3 point on the 5 point scale quite comfortably.
This record has served as a much needed respite to my otherwise progressive-music-obsessed ear drums. Train's sound is very definitive throughout the course of album, bringing back flashes of reminiscences of altie bands bordering classic rock such as Counting Crows . Yet Patrick Monahan's southern twangy vocals give that not-so-somber edge to the tracks . And what is the most surprising element to the record, the band and the genre as a whole is their extensive employment of orchestrative elements to certain tracks, including the title one, which has apparently gone platinum. Somehow I could so imagine Michael Stipe aceing this track with much ease in a vocal trip which seemed (to me) to have been composed with him and only him in the mind. But not taking anything away from Monahan, who has thankfully not tried to do too much with the vocal bit and hence not taken the fizz away from the ensemble arrangements ( With all due respect and awe to the vocalists of progressive music, reaching the crescendo while the violins, the cellos and the piano hits the highest notes is something that does not always pay off). The record opens with the quintessential breezy rocksy number called "She's on Fire", replete with the singalong chorus, strong background vocal verses, a couple of groovy bass grooves and an otherwise uncomplicated melody, which Monahan takes from countryish to towering a little often ,before smoothening into a more classic sounding " I wish you would" with its "toda-todos". Drops of Jupiter comes in next and scores highly on good positioning as it distinguishes itself with its uniqueness from the first two tracks. The follow-up to this freshness is a very ordinary rendition of a straightforward melody called "It's about you". Next on the list "Hopeless" has this peaceful acoustic riff for a beginning, which resurfaces now and then in the track. The song called "Respect" took me aback with a drum roll akin to a song out of 'My generation' at the start, but that's where the similarity ended and so did my respect for the track, until the climactic verses where the pace of the song heightens rapidly without any warning or indication, much to your pleasure. "Let it roll"is a subdued ode to the vocalist's late mother,which has a longish instrumental patch uncharacteristic of their earlier tracks. Orchestral accompaniments rear their heads in "Something more", making you wonder and debate upon whether it should have been used in a more uninhibited manner or whether these fleeting glimpses of them which actually make them work. Near the tail end, 'whipping boy' has an expected structure with its forced soaring verses. At the tail end of the track list,"Getaway" has a melody line, which is pleasantly different. The last track would be my pick from the CD along with the title track being a close second. "Mississippi" has a strong bassline, which conventionally gets a lot of brownie points with me, an uncaged killer of an acoustic progression and sproadic saxophone trimmings, which leave a lasting impression and wins the reclusive presses on the "repeat" button.
I must reiterate the sound of Train is compact and very definitive, but the song structures and the genre itself to a great extent leave room for nothing than predictability. Something that I am not so used having been accustomed to my fair share of Steven Wilsons, Robert Fripps and Trent Gardners. But in its own rights, most of the songs have a crunchy overtone which is accentuated by Manohan's country singer-ish voice, with which he does not over strive too much and hence does not go for an overkill. The CD might have just a few brilliant sections, but more importantly it does not touch the sub standard curve ever. Whether or not, it would be spinning in my deck would be another question altogether, but it does reek in a 3 point on the 5 point scale quite comfortably.
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Urgent Need : A reality check
An article on one of the city's tabloids so read:
"Sexy actor Hugh Grant says he looks like a ‘butch lesbian’ with his hair cut short. The handsome star says he tried to change his trademark floppy hair style but it made him look “ugly”.
The Notting Hill star told Now magazine: “I tried to change. I had my hair cut off by Elizabeth Hurley’s hair person. Unfortunately I looked like a butch lesbian. I’m plug ugly with my hair cut off. Even Elizabeth couldn’t look at me."
What is Mr. Grant trying to imply here? That he prefers to look like a 20-years-too-late-to-be-in-a-boy-band dude, with his Botox-ed face, reading all of two expressions all the time and endorsing the word "sissy" ?! And hey, somebody please tell the man that his hair has as much to do with him being ugly, as much as my baggy clothes have to do with me looking fat. And going to an ex-girlfriend's hairdresser with a hope of getting a good hairdo, c'mon mate, what were you thinking?! Seriously?!
In hindsight, what was I doing with that tabloid anyway?!
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