Saturday, July 12, 2008

Catch-up! 30! Tropicalia! Sigur Ros!

I guess somewhere between selling all our furniture on Craigslist, deep-cleaning the house and yard, and trying to squeeze in all sorts of quality time with our peeps, I've wandered away from my posting obligations. So in an effort to catch up, I offer three tiny glimpses:

1: I turned 30! My wifie and friends did a killer job of making it a memorable weekend. Tsurugi and Frog & Peach one night, barbecue the next day. Naturally, these crazy kids were there:
See that? That's home-made ice cream!

2: Fourth of July, we rented a giant pickup, loaded up the contents of the garage along with Arlo and big and little Wiens, and drove up to the parents' place, where Corr and Brian and Kev and Krissy were waiting for a weekend of revelry. And we wore our swimsuits the whole time. It was, of course, a balmy three hundred degrees and there was much pool time, wii-bowling, barbecue, etc. Kev got baptized and Brian and I got to dunk him!

3: After years of living a stone's throw from the beach, we knew we were long overdue for a beach bonfire. This one came complete with cloves, and was preceded by wine in the backyard (of course), more wine on the in front of Mamma's Meatball, and a scrumptious Italian meal.


On the drive back from the 4th weekend, music-man extraordinaire Arlo shared with us Tropicália: ou Panis et Circenses, the amazing Brazilian collaboration album from 1968 that I wish I had discovered long ago. Having had barely one good listen to it, I'll go out on a limb and say that at worst it's in the running for my favorite discovery-album of the year, and at best it's a work of genius, and perhaps the single most exciting chunk of music I'll hear in my lifetime (aside, of course, from Glenn Gould's 1981 rendering of the Goldberg Variations).

And speaking of genius, I'll just go ahead and hit you with a double. I was in Boo Boo Records yesterday, and came across the new Sigur Rós album Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust. Knowing next-to-nothing about the band, I had almost no expectations. As it turns out, it's absolutely epic. This album shows the band equally adept at minimalist piano lullabies, gigantic neo-classical orchestrations, and ear-pounding rock jams. And those Vonlenska lyrics? Who cares. They're beautiful, whatever they are. Jónsi Birgisson could sing you the Thursday morning paper in that voice and it would be mind-blowing. Yep, my babies are going to grow up Sigur Rós fans. Just have a listen to "Festival" and you'll know what I mean.

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