Tag Archives: entertainment

The Perks of Being a Wallflower

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What a wonderful, wonderful title.

What could be better, you wonder? The book. And the movie.

(source)

I read it in high-school, right after I read Looking for Alaska. The past 6 [6?!?] years, I’ve remembered it, ever-so-wistfully, as a great book for that unique time in my life.

But I saw the movie last week (which was heart-breakingly wonderful) and with tears pooling in my lap, I realized it plucks at the same heartstrings now as it did then.

New city. New job[s]. New friends. New roommate…the list goes on and really, Charlie (the main character) says it best: “So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I’m still trying to figure out how that could be.”

I hate when people throw sentences like this around [undoubtedly signaling that I am about to], because…seriously…what do they mean? How have we continuously failed to think of a more creative expression? But…alas…here it is: It’s a book about wanting to be known. Not known of, not known about, but very simply (and perhaps impossibly), known. Understood. Accepted.

It’s a kitschy and overdone sentiment, I know. But I also know I’m not the only one who loves this book and mine weren’t the only tears [or laughs, or squirms, or sighs...] in that theater.

We all want comfort: “And I closed my eyes because I wanted to know nothing but her arms.”

We all want friends [like this one, y'know]: “Sam and Patrick looked at me. And I looked at them. And I think they knew. Not anything specific really. They just knew. And I think that’s all you can ever ask from a friend.” 

And, I think, most of all, we all want to find people who’ll scour the earth to accomplish the same goals, see the same sights, and find the same truths as us: “And then Patrick started running after the sunset. And Sam immediately followed him. And I saw them in silhouette. Running after the sun. Then, I started running. And everything was as good as it could be.”

So…I guess it’s about life. The good, the very good, the bad, the very bad, the awkward [oh god...the awkward], and the wonderful and perhaps not-so-wonderful people we surround ourselves with along the way.

Read it, see it, love it [promise!].

In the Name of Bob

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Looking forward, it’s what we do. Living in anticipation, with bated breath, for what’s heading our way.

It’s an exciting frenzy, and one I engage in [and sometimes stir up...] regularly.

But every now and then, reveling in what has passed is wonderfully indulgent. For me, when I trudge home with tense shoulders and furrowed brow, spending a night steeped in Bob Dylan, a man who changed the way I listen to music many, many years ago, is pure remedy.

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But how do I tell you that properly? How do I make the tracks sound the same for you? Do I start with the never-ending tour [beginning in 1988] or the decade that might as well be named after him [1960's]? Do we talk about his rock or jazz or folk phases?

The entire endeavor is impossible.

In some ways that makes it all the more necessary.

600+ tracks have his name in the byline and there are as many that I love as I loathe and chances are ours aren’t the same.

So what I’ll do instead is give you my favorites…hope that they’re yours…or that you feel compelled to find some that are.

It all started here, really. With this world-weary, timeless, seemingly ancient hymn. It’s the anthem of the civil-rights era, perfectly and completely tapped into the zeitgeist.

It’s my personal favorite, this one.

Thinking back on the songs that stayed with me long after their tracks ended…the ones that nudged and dug and burrowed somewhere very deep inside…this is one of them. I’ve no clue why and at this point I’ve no clue when, but I’ll tell you this much, few things hit me like Lay, Lady, Lay.

This one…not actually a favorite [doesn't mean it won't be yours!]. But it is indisputably Dylan at his scorched-earth finest, and there’s more than just something to be said for that.

It’s a wide range, but undoubtedly there’s something for everyone. Find more here.

A Sad, Sad Tale

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It all started with a slightly cracked, but still hard-working iPhone.

It was resting, ever-so-peacefully, on my lap the other night when an arm from across the table accidentally knocked over a preposterously large glass of wine….which flooded right on over and into my phone.

The cracks lapped it up as quickly as we all had been and despite a bag of rice and every prayer and incantation I know, it is sufficiently fried.

Which means a few things…1. If I haven’t responded to a phone call or text, don’t take it personally and 2. No (original) photos today. Apologies in both regards.

So when I want to tell you how I’ve been sucked into George R.R. Martin’s A Game of Thrones…this copy will have to do.

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Despite all the madness surrounding it, I’ve held off watching the HBO series so that my imagination might fill the kingdom of Winterfell with images of horses and castles and battles and peoples of my own liking (and, perhaps, because I don’t actually get HBO…) and I do declare, it’s worth it.

Here’s what it’s about: Long ago, in a time forgotten, a preternatural event threw the seasons out of balance. In a land where summers can last decades and winters a lifetime, trouble is brewing. The cold is returning, and in the frozen wastes to the north of Winterfell, sinister and supernatural forces are massing beyond the kingdom’s protective Wall. At the center of the conflict lie the Starks of Winterfell, a family as harsh and unyielding as the land they were born to. Sweeping from a land of brutal cold to a distant summertime kingdom of epicurean plenty, here is a tale of lords and ladies, soldiers and sorcerers, assassins and bastards, who come together in a time of grim omens.

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Here an enigmatic band of warriors bear swords of no human metal; a tribe of fierce wildlings carry men off into madness; a cruel young dragon prince barters his sister to win back his throne; and a determined woman undertakes the most treacherous of journeys. Amid plots and counterplots, tragedy and betrayal, victory and terror, the fate of the Starks, their allies, and their enemies hangs perilously in the balance, as each endeavors to win that deadliest of conflicts: the game of thrones. (source)

I’m not saying I’ve made definite plans to move to Winterfell and join the Stark family in their battle…except I’ve thought about it and surely, if (when?) they invite me, I’ll pack my bags in a minute.

If you’re looking for a world to escape to for a while (book 1 is 900ish pages…) and you fancy the likes of Lord of the Rings,  The Hunger Games, or the suspensful Dragon Tattoo series, go pick a copy up!

If you’re looking for something a bit less time consuming…Rolling Stone just publishing their list of the top 100 Albums of the 2000′s, you can read it here.

Of Monsters and Men

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I feel like I used to do a cool little thing on here: talk about bands; about music and the many ways it calms/excites/soothes/speaks to me.

Then life got crazy and so did I and, alas, it’s been too long.

Apologies. Let’s talk about Of Monsters and Men.

(source)

Of Monsters and Men is a 6-piece indie-folk band that snuck up on me last year and, without even asking permission, stole my heart (they don’t appear to be returning it anytime soon).

There’s something foreign haunting their sound…after a bit of research you start wondering if it’s anything to do with their nordic roots…you swear you can hear the Icelandic scenery in their songs…then you get absolutely and irrevocably lost in the fantasies and, well, it all ceases to matter.

Hours, days, who even knows how long passes before you come to. And my favorite part? There’s more than just melodies to wrap yourself in.

Listening to the lyrics…you can’t help but think about the pure art of storytelling, about the unique ability to tell the same tale countless times and have it resonate differently with each go-around.

Like this one, “Six Weeks”, a completely and utterly bewitching fairy-tale.

Tolkein Imagery meets Motown Drums, and they both mingle deliciously with rough mountain sounds…all to tell a rather naive tale; a story wrought with blood and bones and wolves and woods that’s still, somehow, unashamedly joyous.

There’s two frontmen in this outfit: Nanna (an otherworldly beauty, herself) and Raggi (a portly, furry-faced, rosy-cheeked sort). Really, the only thing they’ve got in common is a shared acoustic guitar proficiency.

But he’s left-handed and she’s of the right side so, in live shows, they mirror each other–matching notes, running melodies, and weaving fantasies so perfect it’s a dare just to look away.

Good news for you, they’re got some U.S dates coming up. You can find them here, my ticket has long-since been purchased and I highly recommend you do something similar, should you find yourself nearby.

Fallen

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Boots clipping down damp stone walkways…

Hot oats taking the chill out of the air…

Now I’m well aware that the official start to fall is still days away, but I’d like to amend the rule and say that the day you strap on your favorite suedes and button your trench all the way to the top, wind whipping and rain drizzling…well that day is the true, first day of fall.

What else serves as a proper fall-awakening?

Fashion.

Fashion Week has since come and passed (I’ll miss the parties, but appreciate the sleep). But there’s a new fashion mag in town and if fantasies of clothes and models and shoes are your thing…you’ve got a purchase to make.

CR Fashion Book is Carine Roitfeld‘s newest gift to the masses. She ran French Vogue from 2001-2011 and has spent the time since her departure on this creation. It follows a unique, and quickly addicting, format.

The Book ($15) comes out twice yearly. It’s big, it’s beautiful, and it is simply bursting with goodies: essays from our favorite celebs (Kirsten Dunst and Anne Hathaway, this go-around), photos of the most beautiful clothes (fashion week’s stolen moments), and charming little diddlies you won’t find anywhere else (Tom Ford writes and photographs his own fairy tale…)

And you need not worry about that pesky 6 month interim between issues!

The Website updates throughout the day with all the short, fun columns generally reserved for the first pages of a magazine.

It’s the best of both world’s really. We get a pretty magazine to snuggle up with on a lazy afternoon, but we also get a website we can cast furtive little glances to throughout the day.

I highly recommend both; the magazine has been had from cover to cover, with me adoring each page, and the website…well let’s not discuss the number of page views I’ve contributed.

Gone Girl

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Well Gillian Flynn…you win. On page one your hands coiled about my neck, ever so slyly, and held tight until the very end. And if we’re being honest (for this is a place most suitable for honesty), you’ve still got a bit of the upper hand.

That twisted, sordid, perfect end hasn’t left me, not in the least.

Gone Girl is an excruciatingly well done thriller.

It’s about, well it’s about everything you think it’ll be about…except then it also isn’t (don’t you hate trying to make sense of phrases like that?). A girl, a woman really, goes missing and we’re left to sort through the pieces–of their marriage, their families, their town…

Except the pieces don’t come in order. Nick, the husband, comes in real-time. He unfolds with the story. But Amy, the missing wife, arrives in snippets of past diary entries; entries recounting how they fell in love, how they married, and how they came to despise each other as much as their own selves.

Did Nick do it? I mean…it’s always the husband, right? He had to. What about that high school stalker living nearby? Too convenient, if you ask me. Or what about the hysterical housewife down the street? Her reaction is a bit over the top, you know.

With a wry smile and chilling prose, Gone Girl, confounds you at every turn and my, my is it delicious.

Go read it! I’ll make it easy: buy online here and then wait, ever so patiently, nearabouts your front door until a lovely UPS man arrives, package in hand.

Then dart off, dive under the covers, and don’t come up for air until you’ve turned the last page.

Insta-Catch-Up

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I’ve been a busy little beaver as of late.

A quasi-promotion (or perhaps just a better office…) at work,

Hanging with my homies, whenever I get a break,

And being completely, utterly, infatuated with a new read.

I scurry home from work, excited to tell you about my latest run…talk about the delicious food tickling my tongue…but then Gone Girl beckons. Come closer, it cries. Suddenly 100 pages and a few hours have flown by and it’s time for bed.

Go buy it. You’ll love it. It’s thrilling, thought-provoking, and dark and twisted in all the ways I just love.

But tonight I thought I should reemerge, join the people of New York outdoors, once more.

So I grabbed this and the gals and we ventured over to the nearest theater for a little Lawless action.

Two notes:

1. Explore Rioja wines. My mother introduced me (as she has with so many things over the years) when we cuddled up at Lulu & Me earlier this summer and I’ve been a budding fanatic ever since.

Spicy, deep, a bit complex. Utterly delicious, especially this one.

2. Go see Lawless. Don’t read reviews, there’s as many goods as there are bars and no one needs the headache of trying to sort it out.

Nothing captures your imagination, steals your breath, or entertains quite like some old gunslinger action…especially when it comes with a cast overflowing with favorites (Gary Oldman, Guy Pearce, Tom Hardy, Shia LaBeouf, Jessica Chastain).

And with that, I’m trudging off to bed, book in hand, to rest up…Friday night is just around the bend ;-)

 

Looking Forward

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It’s a tricky deal, living in anticipation of what’s to come. Looking forward, gasping in excitement, at an abstract future.

I spend a lot of time this way: entranced with what is yet to be and somewhat ignorant of what is now.

A lot of effort goes into trying to stay in the present; to take each day in as it is rather than where it’s going…but as Mumford & Sons says in “Sigh No More”,

Man is a giddy thing, Oh man is a giddy thing…

I’m not made to stand still, it is my blessing as much as my burden. So I thought, much more lighthearted than this post has begun, that we could all indulge this predisposition of mine and shift our gaze to the days ahead and talk about what we’re chomping at the bit for.

First,

I’ve now completely blown my cover as a Mumford-crazed fan…but “I Will Wait” is the first song after their album, Babel, coming out September 24th.

It’s a dangerously well-named song, since hearing it I’ve been waiting, not even remotely patiently, for my pre-ordered copy (get yours here!) to arrive.

And second (in order, not attachment),

From the director (Joe Wright) of Atonement and Pride & Prejudice comes Anna Karenina. If no teacher ever poked and prodded you into reading Leo Tolstoy‘s brilliant work…you’ve got just about three months to do so now.

Between Keira Knightly, Jude Law, and Matthew Macfadyen it promises to be the British manifestation of my tragic, literary soul. So… please don’t ask me to do anything on November 16th. Simply put, I’m booked.

And then lastly,

(source)

Can you even believe it? I once was a firm member of the camp touting how JK Rowling should never publish again (I gave my heart to Harry long, long ago) but now that it’s on its way I have to admit…I cannot wait.

It’s a big novel about a very small and perfectly English town wrought with cobbled stone walkways and dark mysteries. Even better? Rowling seems to have aged right along with me; it’s her first novel for adults, due out September 27th.

I’ve marked my calendars, does anyone have anything else I might add?

 

Foreign Born

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There’s not a whole lot to say about this band. But other than “their music is awesome!”, does anything really matter?

Alright fine, I care a little bit about their lives too.

(buy here!)

Foreign Born is an American indie rock outfit that got together forever ago (2003) in San Francisco but soon after moved to Los Angeles. They released their debut EP, In the Remote Woods under StarTime International Records. Two years later they self-released their first “proper” LP while touring with indie darlings Cold War Kids (I talked about them here) and Rogue Wave–when they signed with Dim Mak in 2007 it was re-released. Then in 2009 with their third label in as many albums we were all gifted with Person to Person.

It’s a bit of an exhausting journey, but as the music shows, it was well worth it.

Telling you that the band writes “anthemic pop songs”…well it’s hardly a debatable claim. The album came out in 2009 and bloggers/magazines/reviewers have been touting that ever since. It’s not a knock. Really, it’s just addicting. Each song is so intentional:  dense and complex sounds fortified with catchy hooks, begging to stick in your head forever.

The whole collection is crafted with similar meticulousness. The ordering shows a determined progression. Repeated contrasts between punchy tracks like “Blood Oranges” and warm, catchy tunes like the one above is well-conceived and effective. It’s a constant shift from light to dark, tiny to epic, that just sort of locks you in.

The result? Well it feels like a conversation with the west coast and sounds like endless summer.

Aren’t we all clamoring for both?

“That Old Sun” and “Winter Games” are sweaty BBQ soundtracks, simple and undecorated, and lead singer Matt Popieluch’s raspy, aching vocals just sort of lull you into sunset all the way through.

So go on, kick back, relax and do enjoy!

The Civil Wars

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I’ve alluded to the genius that is The Civil Wars before (here), but upon further reflection, and a few incredible hours of exhausting the repeat button on their tracks, these two deserve a post all their own.

(source)

The Civil Wars is a duo composed of singer-songwriters Joy Williams and John Paul White. They met randomly during a songwriting session in Nashville in 2008 but their first full-length album, Barton Hollow, just came out last year. The painstaking effort is apparent and indisputably well worth it. The world (self-included) fell happily in love with their heartbreaking Americana quickly, with the duo winning Grammys for Best Duo/Group Performance and Best Folk Album this past February.

According to their website, the album namesake and thematic direction is summed up best with the lyrics of  Poison & Wine; meaning it’s about the good, the ohsogood, the bad, and the downright ugly of married life.

Of course, there is a bit of irony here…and it never ceases disappointing me. Despite their uncanny and intimate ability to trace each other’s melodies with close harmonies in ways that purr perfect romance…they aren’t actually a couple (how?! tell me!).

Anyway…

This song communicates in ways few have; their profound heartbreak over a relationship on the rocks seeps through and strokes your sweet, sweet soul in all the right ways. It’s an aching, painful tribute to a relationship we’ve all been in. It’s also noteworthy that this is one of the few tracks to include more than just an acoustic guitar.

The focus is forever on the vocals with these two. Which, in an era where those have seemingly ceased to matter, makes The Civil Wars a most welcome reprieve. But…if you aren’t into earthy sounds…you’re a bit up a creek (you know, without a paddle and shit) because this is a band that shows best when the pace slows, the lights dim, and the voices come together.

In the same way that my favorite Lana del Rey song is the first one I heard (as detailed here), Barton Hollow will probably always remain my go-to song with this band.

With swanky out-law lyrics and a smooth southern groove, I.am.sold.

(You too? Buy here!)