Coming into this week Veggie Mobiled out I have decided not to write about anything new. The reason for the decision is that I don't have anything musically new to write about. I could write about the possible shows we might have or might see in the near future but those haven't happened yet. And besides they mostly involve B3nson collective bands. Except for the Green Light Tour www.myspace.com/greenlighttour, which comes through on May 15th.
I'm fresh out of hip.
I was thinking about writing about my favorite album of the past five years. It isn't a straight shot favorite or anything. It hasn't been sitting ontop for five years running. It is just consistently at the top of my list of albums. And by list, I mean, that it is consistently in my five disc changer. I don't usually make lists.
Full Disclosure: Myself and five friends made a collective top fifty songs list in a sweaty hot room in Bangkok one night. It was a terrible list. And I swore I'd never make another list again.
So I was going to write about this album, which I may or may not reveal the title of, but in reading Alex's post, which for anyone who cares, was 3 days late, I was stopped by a theory he stated about the term indie.
I have been chasing the term indie for a while now. And I'm not going to say that the words "indie is more an aesthetic than a genre..." ever came out of my mouth in any conversation Alex and I have had, but I will say that the topic has come out on more than one occasion. Each time I make some claim that indie is a sensibility that should include most sophisticated arthouse pop. And I usually say something about Wes Anderson films, Dead Man, Belle and Sebastian, and the mix of melancholy and Joy.
I will at some point expand upon this indie sensibility/aesthetic. Not tonight. I'm too tired and Veggie Mobiled out.
So I've decided to write about Andrew Bird and The Bowl of Fire: Thrills, because Andrew Bird just recently came out with yet another album that sounds nothing like Thrills. Thrills is always in my disc changer. It is brilliant. I can't believe he was 25 when he put it together. It's genius.
The album has tastes of jazz, caberet, German Weimer Republic nightclubs, Edith Piaf's French chanson mixed with Bertolt Brecht, drunken drums, and the Gypsi jazz of Django and Stehpen Grapelli. And that's just the music. I can't help but find dust, vinyl, orangy light on a grimy wall, Tennyson, Browning, and my imaginations of Budapest in there as well.
This album is timeless and should be listened to by all connoisseurs of tasteful music.
Recommended for dinner parties, driving long distances, or deep into a night of drinking whiskey or wine.
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