Without Rules A Thing Can Be Anything
“You’re doing very good work,” he said. Then the Good Doctor said to me, “What would I do without you?” Everybody needs to hear someone say this and mean it now and again later on.
I was just listening to a Pedro the Lion CD, which I received when I lived in Iowa City and wrote music reviews for the local nightlife paper. That paper went under months after I began writing reviews. More specifically, the paper went under just after I’d spent a long, grueling time writing a review for an album I had zero interest in. I was about to hit send when the music editor called and said he didn't need the review. Those are the breaks. This event followed my being asked to review two Christmas albums done by local middle-aged jazz artists. The songs sounded to me like what you hear in K-Mart around Christmastime; however, I didn’t feel that was appropriate to write. The music wasn’t terrible, and even though it didn’t appeal to I thought it was cool that middle-aged guys were doing something they enjoyed and putting it onto CD to hopefully (and most probably) entertain other people. This followed my being asked to review a blues-rock album by a local artist. The whole album centered on the theme of meat. Every song title included meat, various kinds, various ways to cook it. The cover art followed suit. I did what I thought was artistically coincident and dropped a few embarrassing meat puns into my review. When the paper came out, however, the part of the page that contained my review was dripping with rare-meat blood and black grill markings, via editor's license. My name was pulsating on the page with this thing, this very public thing. Anyway, I thought this Pedro the Lion CD was ok but filed it under mediocre. Listening to it this morning, I am enjoying it. It’s no Kristin Hersh, Smog, or Doug Martsch to me, but I like it. I wonder what the difference is, in me. I think this trend of variation is what makes me a bit of a pack-rat. You just can’t tell; maybe those white-denim too-long/too-short cutoff shorts will appeal to me three years from now.
I was just listening to a Pedro the Lion CD, which I received when I lived in Iowa City and wrote music reviews for the local nightlife paper. That paper went under months after I began writing reviews. More specifically, the paper went under just after I’d spent a long, grueling time writing a review for an album I had zero interest in. I was about to hit send when the music editor called and said he didn't need the review. Those are the breaks. This event followed my being asked to review two Christmas albums done by local middle-aged jazz artists. The songs sounded to me like what you hear in K-Mart around Christmastime; however, I didn’t feel that was appropriate to write. The music wasn’t terrible, and even though it didn’t appeal to I thought it was cool that middle-aged guys were doing something they enjoyed and putting it onto CD to hopefully (and most probably) entertain other people. This followed my being asked to review a blues-rock album by a local artist. The whole album centered on the theme of meat. Every song title included meat, various kinds, various ways to cook it. The cover art followed suit. I did what I thought was artistically coincident and dropped a few embarrassing meat puns into my review. When the paper came out, however, the part of the page that contained my review was dripping with rare-meat blood and black grill markings, via editor's license. My name was pulsating on the page with this thing, this very public thing. Anyway, I thought this Pedro the Lion CD was ok but filed it under mediocre. Listening to it this morning, I am enjoying it. It’s no Kristin Hersh, Smog, or Doug Martsch to me, but I like it. I wonder what the difference is, in me. I think this trend of variation is what makes me a bit of a pack-rat. You just can’t tell; maybe those white-denim too-long/too-short cutoff shorts will appeal to me three years from now.
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