Hey Baby (They're Playing Our Song)

There was a time (about five years ago) when I was addicted to watching those 30-minute infomercials for Time Life CD sets. Usually falling in the late night hours, I watched the one with Davy Jones over and over again. Playing a number of hits from the Sixties I had never heard before, I was really intrigued by what I heard. Less than a year later I was working for a radio station whose playlist had most (if not all) of those songs in their library. I learned a lot then and still appreciate what Time Life does.

But I recently wondered about how downloading has affected Time Life's sales. Since one of their biggest (and strongest) selling points was how there's no filler (or depending on how you look at it, adventure in hearing songs you've never heard before) on them. These are just the popular hits, nothing more or less. So how can they compete in a downloading world?

There's a clear advantage in having a full CD of songs you really like instead of having to hunt down each individual track. Still, the convenience of downloading is nicer. If you just want "Young Girl" instead of "Young Girl," "This Magic Moment" and "Georgie Girl," well downloading is the way to go.

We hear enough from the RIAA about downloading, but what about the Time Life people, or even the BMG or Columbia House record clubs? How are they fairing? I'm just glad they're not suing their customers . . .

Very Best Years

I recall an instance when a fellow co-worker at Best Buy vented to me about a customer asking for a song that he a) didn't remember any of the lyrics b) didn't remember if it was a guy or a girl singing it c) didn't remember where he heard it, and d) could only hum a few bars in a non-melodic way. Well, I must admit I've had that frustration of knowing a song merely by a guitar or piano line or just a drum fill. Still, asking someone for something specific while only telling the vaguest of traits doesn't go very far. And that's not just with music.

In a particular case of my own, ever since I saw this video on Beavis and Butt-head, I wondered who sang it. The only things I remembered were the heavy accents on every beat of the verse, in addition to a distinct climbing guitar riff (doubled with the vocal) leading into the chorus. All I remembered from the video was the band playing in what looked like a garden, and they were being filmed on a 360 dolly track. That's all I remembered.

Well, once again blogger friend Jeff Giles (former owner of jefitoblog and currently of Popdose) came to the rescue and didn't even know it. A recent posting of the long-out-of-print-and-highly-sought-after sole album by the Grays led me to realize it was their video for "Very Best Years." I must say, things were double-sweet that this video was from the Grays.

Before I ever heard it, I heard about how the Grays' Ro Sham Bo was one of the greatest long-lost power pop records from the Nineties. If anything, the reason why was because Jellyfish's Jason Falkner and Jon Brion (yes, the Jon Brion) were in the band. That alone had to be great, right? For me, it was a record that I wanted to track down in some form. Having somebody like Jeff post stuff from the Nineties that is more for the Big Takeover crowd than the Stereogum crowd is a reason why I reason Popdose everyday.

Now, let's see if I can track down that after-school special I saw in health class senior year where a band that looked a little like Dishwalla played at a party gone wrong.

Toss the cookies

Well, my attempt to bake those cookies didn't turn out like I hoped, but that's perfectly fine by me.

For whatever reason, the mix didn't rise in the oven -- it spread, thus making the entire baking sheet a thin, brownie-like crust. Alas, everything was still edible (albeit very rich-tasting right out of the oven) and I made due as I cut up what I had into smaller parts. Stacking everything I had onto a plate made it look like a nuked chocolate cake. So I put them into two small bowls and they looked surprisingly attractive.

The party went very well and plenty of food was consumed, but there's still plenty of leftovers. As a matter of fact, if it weren't for office breakrooms, I think we would have had enough desserts, beer and appetizers for two months.

Some thoughts came into my head about trying in general and not feeling shame or disgust because not everybody ate what I made. If I was hung up on approval and basing all the eating habit actions of the party attendees on me and me alone, I'd probably be royally pissed. But I'm not. I wasn't seeking approval -- I saw attempting to bake those cookies as a chance to do something else from what I normally do (which is not bake and just show up). It was something I might -- sarcastically gasp -- fail at, but I didn't care to be tied down by shame. Thinking about it now, I believe there's some mental headway here that goes beyond cooking . . .

Cookies

Tomorrow afternoon, I will attempt something I haven't done in a long time: bake something from scratch! And moreover, for people other than me!

Usually there's some sort of occasion for doing something like this, and this is no different. As a way of celebrating one of our new-ish neighbors' birthday (and as a housewarming party of sorts), I will attempt to bake these: chocolate pudding cookies.

The reason why I'm attempting to bake these is another line in the whole, "it's a great idea, do it, and don't second-guess yourself" line of thinking. I've never baked these before, but I remember enough from my time of baking chocolate chip cookies with my mother and sister. If it's a total mess and failure on the first batch, I have enough time to either start again or just pick up a pre-packaged dessert from the grocery store. No harm, no foul, right?

Usually for parties like these, my attitude is to just show up. Well, given the circumstances, I want to do something a little more involved, doing something I want to do, for people that I'm just getting to know. I've lived in enough apartments where the use of getting to know the neighbors was as moot as getting to know fellow guests at hotels you stay at. Here's to new experiences, right?

This all kinda sounds like a "duh" sort of thing, but I think it's important to point out since this is completely out of my regular routine. I don't go to many housewarming parties like these, so it should be fun. Since the opportunity presented itself to me, I have an opportunity myself to do something like this. Nice how this all kinda plays out over time . . .

I Am You Are

A few months ago, I wrote up a little piece for a new print/web zine called I Am You Are. Well, as a preview of what's to come, my write-up is currently online here.

So make up your mind and come to your senses

A lesson I still remember from college: on roadtrips, don't listen to CDs that only have a half-hour of music (or less) on them. The reason why is for time-filling reasons -- and a desire to not switch out discs that often while driving. I've never wanted a multi-disc changer as my mood is always subject to change, so it's been single-disc player all the way. (And don't get me started on plugging my iPod in my car.)

Well, as much as I might love a record by a band, I don't want to hear it continuously over and over again. For records that I sort of like, this can leave a bad impression in the long term.

I recall one trip going from Austin to Fort Worth where I decided to listen to face to face's self-titled album. Once I reached the Round Rock city limits, I had gone through all twelve songs. Since I had just begun my trip, I decided to let the album play again. And again. And again. I think I listened to the whole thing four times. As much as I like almost all of the songs, hearing them that many times was overkill.

It was on this trip that I realized how quick and simple most pop-punk songs are. "You mean the bridge is only fifteen seconds long? Three verses, three choruses and one bridge -- all under three minutes? Wow." For the same reasons that drew me to pop-punk, I became a believer that punk comps and mix CDs are the way to go for roadtrips years later.

On another trip from Austin to Fort Worth, I listened to my used, purchased-at-Sound-Exchange, copy of the Get Up Kids' Four Minute Mile about four times in a row. Though I think the record was really important for the band's career, for me as the listener, I was not blown away. The catchiest songs were great to hear again and again, but the thin mastering job and shoddy production made the record difficult to fully enjoy. Listening to the whole thing that many times was a test of endurance.

Since I have music going pretty much non-stop from the start of the car to when I reach my destination, half-hour CDs are great for the work commute and visits up to the suburbs. For anything longer than that, it's a choice from one of the many personal mix CDs I've made in the last few years, along with ones I've made for our seasonal theme parties.

Thinking about this all now, it's just another in a long line of bad experiences that I hope never experience anything slightly ever again. Man, this is a prevailing thought for most of my life since high school . . .

Touch of Gray

A little over two years ago, I did a rant on Just For Men. Finding their intent for men to be "real" by coloring their hair, I said plenty that I still agree with. Well, with a new ad campaign for a product that keeps some of the gray hair demands a new rant. However, Steve over at the A.V. Club wrote a pretty spot-on rant on it today. Read and enjoy the groan, especially after watching the commercial.