peevish mama

Where have I been people? I’ve been in Florida visiting my parents with the kids. I got to see Maestro de Bife before he goes to Australia for a year and got to meet his very sweet, very cool lady love. An extremely enthusiastic thumbs up from the peanut gallery on her! We had warm days and cool days, but the sun was always out and we got our injection of family and Vitamin D. Despite the long walks, the great meals, the beach with its constant source of peace and treasures, it was an odd week for me.

My heart kept flying back to Minneapolis. I would be squinting up into palm fronds dancing beneath a blazing blue sky, but my thoughts were with the people in the dark and muddy north. For starters, Dash and Foxy were at home, so there was that feeling of being slightly off kilter that comes from the family not being whole. Then there was the fact that Lady Tabouli and Lady Doctor Poodle’s mom died in the wee hours of the new year after a very long, hard battle with ovarian cancer. As I got to enjoy my mother, bustling around, doing the things she does, I wondered about my girls and how they were faring in Chicago at the end, but in some ways at the beginning, of a very hard journey. On top of that, I heard of Jack Jablonski’s spinal cord injury almost immediately after it happened through the Carondelet grapevine. A sophomore in high school, an alum of our little grade school, he was horrifically injured during a hockey game and will likely never walk again. It seems he may not even have use of his arms. It is heart breaking. It is a tragedy. There aren’t words for this. Again, thoughts of Jack’s parents, their utter agony, kept my thoughts pinned to Minneapolis. I still cannot stop thinking about this boy.

So for this belated Music Monday, a little something from home, from the place that preoccupied my mind when I was far away. Howler is a young band from the hood whom I had heard on the radio but was hugely surprised to see featured on Rolling Stone’s website. Go little dudes! They are darling and, in my opinion, quite good. A couple days before we went to Florida we had a small dance party with some families and after the tornado of goodness had passed, Saint James and I were lolling on the couch thinking about all the songs we wished we had played. It was late, we were tired, but there we lingered, luxuriating in the glow of the Christmas lights and the silently spinning disco ball. Can you find that song by those kids from our neighborhood? he asked, apropos of nothing. Ah, he had heard rumors. I grabbed the laptop and we watched it together, his head on my shoulder – a perfect ending to a perfect night.

Here’s a small reminder that at any one time, in any one place, there are myriad stories unfurling: endings, beginnings, heart break, triumphs and everything in between; a reminder that, for better or worse, the world just keeps on spinning. Enjoy. (And notice the basement of Java Jacks.)

It feels specious to say Happy New Year. But, what else is there left to say?

OK, so Christmas is over, New Years is coming and for today’s Music Monday I’m feeling like a little gratuitous booty pop. As an aside, I happen to love Nicki Minaj. Big surprise. She’s a freak but she can back it up – she’s the real deal, and as hoochy as she can go, I feel like she’s doing it on her own terms. Theatrical, left of center, and so funny. will.i.am, being the master sampler that he is, has remixed the Buggles song which, arguably, defined our generation. It sounds as great today as it from the couch in my rainbow-colored toe socks, latched to MTV like a teat. CHECK IT OUT.

Here we go. One of the busiest weeks of the year. Christmas concerts and school parties, wrapping and cooking, constantly running out for one last thing. Here’s to a little quiet in the midst of it all. I can’t think of anyone more appropriate for this Music Monday than Joni Mitchell, who sings like an angel. Not a Christmas song, per se. Not a happy song, per se. But a song that slows you down, wrings your heart and makes you want to hold your dearest loves close and tight.

On Friday night there was a collision – the girl in me who wants to fly around in the dark and hear loud live music, feeling it in every cell in her body, ran up against the mother and wife that I am on the outside and in the present. Mostly, these two pieces of me can co-exist peacefully. Mostly, I find that one actually helps the other. After I get to see something that moves me, that opens my mind and my heart, I think I’m actually a better mother. The next morning, my kids come down to breakfast and I’m usually playing whatever it is I heard the night before, all bright and happy, savoring that shimmer left behind, and they ask questions and they listen to the music and I tell them everything. Perhaps I am rationalizing, but my kids’ take-away might be this: art is one of life’s priorities and live music lifts up everyone in the room, the performers and every last person in the audience. I swear, First Avenue is like OZ to them. When they finally get to go, it’s going to be epic. But, as I’ve said before, this town is so chocked full of good music that Dash and I have to turn a blind eye to many many things we would like to see. And even with that kind of triage, there can still come a night when you look at the ticket, sigh and decide that staying in is the right thing to do.

I fell for Doomtree a couple summers ago when they played at the Lake Harriet Bandshell during the Music and Movies Series. We went with our neighbors on a beautiful August night and while the girls stood in line for free t-shirts that were being silkscreened on the spot, our boys stood on the benches and watched, rapt. How cute are they?It was a joyous rapping free-for-all and our guys were drinking it up. (I bet that’s what spawned their careers as Lil’ Ziggy, G-Dog and TNT.)

Doomtree is a Minneapolis collective of seven musicians who each go out and do their own thing, while coming “home” to collaborate with the each other in all sorts of different combinations and constellations. It’s so cool. They’re so cool – super talented, hard working, smart, honest. Dessa, beautiful, bad-ass Dessa, is the only woman. And I didn’t go to see their Blow-Out on Friday night – my sad little ticket is sitting on my bureau. I’m a little bitter, of course, but I snuggled on the couch with my monkeys and watched TV. And that kind of night, as we know, possesses its own kind of magic. But I’m still bitter – Nanook calls it FOMO (fear of missing out). I’ve got IKIMO (I know I missed out). Watch this for a little idea of how they work. So good.

I love this band, although I don’t think you’d really call it a band. More of a French dude. And you all know I happen to have a thing for French dudes – French Canadian dudes, anyway. This song is Midnight City off the new album, Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming. It’s the perfect music for tiny dancing, the season for which is fast approaching, so get ready. The night before Thanksgiving, I went to Transmission with my dancing girls and, in a brilliant move, DJ Jake busted this song out. Heaven. The top of my head popped off and out blew reams and reams of confetti. Really. Ask anyone. It blends seamlessly with 80’s new wave, which is probably why I like it so very much.

Do you remember when I broke your clutch and you threw both your shoes at me? Talking your brother into buying us wine cause we didn’t have any I.D. This Minnesota boy came home for Thanksgiving and put on a really beautiful show on Saturday night. It was my first time seeing him and well, now, I’m a little smitten. He’s thoughtful, poetic, gracious and . . . tall. I stood right next to him at the t-shirt table. Tall. His lyrics are simple, painterly, exquisitely attuned to those tiny nothing moments in life that mean everything – especially in retrospect. So lovely.

If you’re married to someone who loves The Black Keys as much as Doctor Dash does, you end up loving them too. This is off their new album, El Camino, coming December 6, and it’s an awesome song with an even better video. Y’all know how I feel about dancing – in all its wondrous and quirky permutations. This guy makes me happy. Enjoy. And maybe shake what yo’ mama gave you a little too. Happy Monday!

And did you notice that person peeking out of the “office” window at 30 seconds? What must she be thinking?

Check out this cool graphic depiction of the evolution of music. It’s sort of mind boggling and I can’t help but think of the spread of contagion – of the musicians, elders, kids and dj’s carrying this music from place to place back when music had to move physically, if it was to move at all. Heady, no?

Also, on this very tired Monday morning after a late arrival from Boston last night, I just want to curl up with the musical equivalent of a warm fuzzy blanket. Enjoy Lykke Li’s cover of Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow – so pretty, as is she. I’m intrigued by her because she’s quirky and weird – the kind of girl who would put bells on her ankles and sing a cappella in a public square. She played to a sold out First Ave last night while we were on an airplane hurtling through the night. I would have liked to have seen her, but I wouldn’t have traded this weekend for a hundred shows. We went for Dash’s cousin’s wedding, and in an absolutely jam packed weekend, we got to squeeze in lots of fiercely lovely time with our family and all of our East Coast peeps. It was intense, fun, and as always, bittersweet. I miss everyone.

These fellas were here on Friday and thanks to Creeper Bud and her uncanny knack for winning things on the radio, I got the see them perform twice. During the day they played a short set with lots of Q and A from The Current’s Bill DeVille at the tiny Minnesota Public Radio UBS Forum. They are adorable, talented, and so very soulful. They guys looked rumpled and sleepy but sounded anything but – and listening to Taylor Goldsmith’s honest and thoughtful answers to DeVille’s questions just made me love them even more. Being in that intimate space allowed the story telling to shine, and really that’s Goldsmith’s strength. The words, his words, are very beautiful. That night at the packed and sold-out First Ave, the four of them morphed into a bigger louder band and they completely swallowed up the adoring crowd. Goldsmith looked almost feral at times. Not sure why, but I am always taken aback when a folksy, Americana band starts to shred. So good. Here’s Time Spent in Los Angeles, by Dawes.

There are so many songs, so many many songs that would be loosely apropos for Halloween. I’m just going to pick one because I love it. And I’m thinking when you listen, you’ll remember that you do too. Enjoy The Ghost in You by The Psychedelic Furs.

Happy Halloween, my friends. Best day of the year, no?

Did you see the piece in the Sunday NY Times about iPod’s tenth (!) birthday on October 23? It’s an interview with David Levitin, a neuroscientist from McGill and it touches on some of the very things I was chewing on in a post I called Wrapped Up in a Song from 2009. I love that post, I really do. And I do wonder: what are we losing by having so much music at our fingertips, by listening to our vast libraries on shuffle, by picking and choosing the songs that we like off albums instead of ingesting the thing as a whole? Levitin has some answers for us.

Boy, am I ever excited to see this documentary by Cameron Crowe. It looks so gooooood. I can’t help but think of my friend, Saucilicious who loves and adores Eddie Vedder – always has, always will. Wish we could watch it together with a couple bottles of wine, but she’s in Pennsylvania. Instead I’ll watch with Dash and I’m thinking Saint James too. The boy goes completely still and hyper-focused whenever we catch any concerts or music documentaries on TV. These days I’m all about people who turn their loves into their lives. Both Vedder and Crowe seem to have managed to do that and it’s completely inspiring.

Here’s a little bonus for a lazy Sunday. I’m just besotted with this. Watch and enjoy a young and adorable Rod Stewart. And holy skinny pants! What a bunch of dandies! Damn. I love the part when they try to kick around a soccer ball. The guy in the little white stacked heel booties wasn’t able to play. Were they the first ones to do this? Because Rivers Cuomo busted out a soccer ball at the Weezer show this summer and I believe Justin Bieber does this too. Is this a thing? Who was the first? Anyone know? How odd and yet awesome.

This band just played at the Turf Club and I missed them. A little Blondie, a little Go Go’s, I very much dig. Enjoy a little leggy glammy girl action.

I want to give a little shout out to Soul Daddy for having slipped the delectable Mr. Hawthorne onto my plate. He was so silky smooth last night at First Ave, we could have eaten him up with a small plastic ice cream spoon. In an upside down move, Dash and I skipped the main act (Chromeo) and swooped in for Mayer Hawthorne, shook it, went to dinner at Tilia and were home by eleven. It was a Tuesday night, after all, and it has been a ridiculously busy week, after all, and although I’m super intrigued by Chromeo, the little I do know of them indicates that they are a PARTY band to be enjoyed as close to the stage as possible and with a succession of giant Coronas in hand. Fending off the Tuesday night pull of the couch, we stepped out to see this boy and he was hugely entertaining. He’s unapologetically sexy smooth, but a little tongue in cheek. His falsetto makes me weak in the knees. He clearly draws from the old Detroit crooners, but he wears that dapper blazer lightly. The mojo is very much his own and his sneakers are firmly planted in the now. He did a cover of Snoop Dog’s Gansta Luv that made my week – or made me weak. Both. Yes. Oof. Is it getting hot in here? Take a listen. Y’all, it is HARD to do better Snoop than Snoop and Hawthorne just might have done it. The lad has got two speeds. I like him slow.