Journey to the Center of the Mall

I've been looking about my closet recently, and I've come to the conclusion that I wear the same clothes all the time. I thought I should maybe spring out and buy a new shirt. So I went to the Roseville Mall.

Bad idea.

Nearly every time I journey to the mall, I have some sort of psychoanalytic breakdown at being tossed about in the seas of capitalism and pop culture. It seems so simple; all I want is a blue, short sleeved shirt, with no obnoxious brand all over it, for a reasonable price. Instead, what I get is overstimulation. Blaring techno-funk, racks upon racks of insanely inflated prices, hordes of teenagers poring accessories, etc, etc, etc. But it's not the good kind of overstimulation, like the childlike sense of wonder I get at grocery stores. Rather, I just feel filthy for playing some sort of role in this appearance-obsessed culture of ours. Why would I ever want a cardigan sweater with a screen-printed skull on it? Who the hell wears this?

Now, I like to look good, same as the next person. I want to come across as a productive member of society, who doesn't look like they still live in a basement. I'm sure I share the "look good" aspect with the hordes of teeny-boppers and college bros that I fought with at the clearance rack. However, I think there's a crucial distinction here. I try to wear clothes that fit my own self-perception, the sort of easy going vision that I have of myself somewhere in my brain. I don't try to wear clothes that will recreate that image into something different. I think maybe the latter view is the crucial failing point of much of youth culture.

Maybe it's all a phase, I can remember being somewhat obsessed with having name brand clothes when I was in high school. Maybe instead it's some part of getting older, of having new experiences, of becoming more self-aware. I'd like to think so, but if that's the case, it seems to me that there are quite a few folks my age who remain in a state of arrested development. And not in the hilarious liberal arts college way.

But anyways, yes, I spent about an hour at the mall, trying to find what I was looking for. I have a couple engagements this week that I figured I needed to look well put together for. Plus, as aforementioned, I wear the same clothes all the time. Finally, thankfully, I found the sort of blue short sleeved shirt that suited my taste. Amazingly enough, it's not even plaid.

Then I got out as fast as I could.

Album of the Week: Maurizio Pollini - Mozart Piano Concert No. 23, Beethoven Piano Concerto No. 5 "Emperor"

Hello folks, good evening. I figured I'd dial back the clock a bit on this week's album, and tonight, we're going way back. Holding it down classical style, with a bit of romanticism thrown in for good measure. That's right folks, two main men, Mozart and Beethoven, throwing down a pair of wicked good piano concertos, as played by a snappily dressed Italian man. If that doesn't get your heart rate pumping, maybe you have the swine flu.

You know, I am partial to Mr. Beethoven. I daresay that my favourite classical piece of all time stems from Beethoven's enchanted pen, that being his Ninth Symphony. Call it cliché if you want, but you'll shut up once you listen to it. Beethoven of course, is a master of emotion, of visceral power. If Beethoven were to be transplanted to the 21st century, I think he might be a hipster.

Mozart, on the other hand, is a master of the classical style, a connossieur of rhythm, form, and structure. I've always found Mozart to be a lot easier to listen to, if you can train your ear to be partial to it. To me, Mozart is what I play when I really need to concentrate. I think he'd be an accountant.

Quite fittingly, I started listening to this album this week while doing homework in the law library. I was in the mood for some classical, saw that this was on my future phone, and put it on. Oddly enough, I think the most striking piece for me on this album is the Mozart piano concerto. Mainly, this has to do with the 2nd movement. It has to be one of the most heartaching, haunting melodies Mozart ever put together. One of those moments where I had to just put down my highlighter, put down my pencil, lean back in my chair, and just drink in the sonic cup that overfloweth into my eardrums. Simply fantastic.

The "Emperor" concerto of course, is equally fantastic, in a much different way. Honestly, I've spent more time listening to the Mozart piece, since I was initially more unfamiliar with that one, so I can't claim to have gained any great expertise on Beethoven's contribution here. What I can say with certainty, is that there is a moment in the first movement, that makes me want to quit school, and become a concert pianist.

So yes, if you are a classical lover, you need to relax, you need to unwrap your brain from the coming H1N1 pandemic, any of the above; you need to listen to this. I highly recommend it.

Existential Comic of the Week

As many can relate, I think I spend quite a bit of time by myself in law school. Reading cases, doing research, writing briefs, yada, yada, yada.

Sometimes I think this comic sums up my life.

Mad Man

You know, I typically pride myself on my ability to keep my life fairly balanced between school and everything else. In an ideal world, my homework/miscellaneous tasks are completed by around 6:30, leaving the rest of the evening for leisure or other activities. Unlike some of my friends who are currently in medical school, very rarely do I have to spend my entire day studying.

However, all good things must, at some point, come to an end.

This law review business, it's busting my ass right now. And it wouldn't be nearly as stressful if I hadn't realized the other day that 4 articles on my chosen topic have just been published in recent editions of various law reviews. But I guess, a relatively stress-free research project just wouldn't do. In a way, I think I might actually be glad that I have to completely retool my arguments. It prevents me from reciting the same ho-hum shit that, well, four other people have recited.

Granted, I now have to work much harder at trying to make something seemingly ridiculous make sense, but whatever. Life is fraught with small challenges. One thing I've learned is that a task that appears insurmountable at first, is usually doable once you get going.

Anyways, enough bitching about how busy I am. I clearly can't be too busy, since I'm writing this, and I think I'll watch an episode of "Mad Men" to celebrate a fully productive day.

BTW, this "Mad Men" show is fantastic. If you've never seen it and you're in the mood for some great period drama, I can't recommend it enough. You'll never have a stronger urge to put on a suit and drink a single malt.

Album of the Week: The Great Summit/The Master Takes

First off, the fact that this week's album features both Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington should be sufficient for you all to immediately go out and get this. I really shouldn't have to write anything.

But, since it's customary for me to write something for every album I review, I suppose you'll all have to put up with a little overkill.

Here's the deal folks; there's a pretty strong argument to be made that Duke Ellington is the greatest American composer of the twentieth century. And I won't pretend to be neutral here, I subscribe to that view. Along that vein, there's a pretty damn good reason that Louis Armstrong is known as "Pops," i.e.; the grandfather of jazz. So just by basis of reputation, I can't see how this album can be anything other than brilliant.

Luckily, you don't even have to mess around with that question, since this album is in fact, brilliant.

All the tunes on this album are Ellington compositions. What I think is extremely interesting is that Duke plays with Armstrong's band. In all the other Ellington collaboration albums I have, Duke either brings portions of his own band, or at leasts switches off with the other artist. For example, in "Duke Ellington Meets Coleman Hawkins," you have Duke's band, plus Hawkins. In the Coltrane collaboration, there is a switch off between Duke's band, and Coltrane's band.

For those of you not familiar with jazz history, if there was one thing that Ellington's big bands were characterized by, it was loyalty. The guys in that band stuck with him, so you have a strong sense of continuity, as well as how to play Ellington's compositions. Thus, I think it shows some serious faith on Duke's part on this album, in that he's willing to trust Armstrong and his band to do justice to his material. And let me tell you, he trusted the right man. Every track on this album is simply fantastic.

Duke plays piano on all the tracks, so there certainly is a familiar "backbone" to the music here. But obviously, you don't have some of the trademark instrumentals that you associate with the Ellington band, since they're not playing. No Johnny Hodges, no Cootie Williams, no Roy Nance, etc. However, Armstrong's band does a fantastic job of channeling some of those unique Ellington soundbites, while still maintaining musical independence. So while Armstrong trombonist Trummy Young doesn't have quite the growl of Tricky Sam Nanton here, there's a sufficient enough growl to know that this is vintage Ellington trombone, on vintage Ellington standards. It really gives the music a bit of a "new car" feel.

And of course, who can say enough about Louis Armstrong? His presence is everywhere, from his regal trumpet solos to his inimitable singing. I don't know, I've listened to this album through twice today, and the depth of his vocal interpretations is really getting to me, in a good way. He sings the Ellington songbook like he's stepping into an old shoe, but it never sounds like an old shoe.

Although every track is essential, I've found myself particularly into "Black and Tan Fantasy," "The Mooche," "Solitude," and "I Got It Bad." Partially some of these songs are due to nostalgia; "The Mooche" in particular brings back some extremely fond memories of playing Ellington at Luther.

Here's the thing folks; Ellington is a special breed. Louis Armstrong is a special breed. If there's ever a reason to be proud of America, like Twins baseball and apple pie, these two deserve to be mentioned in the same breath. If you want music that comes from the soul, from the very pit of the essence that is jazz, you need to listen to this album. After two listens, I surely put it near the Newport recording as my favorite Ellington album. And it definitely has to be considered essential listening, in the same vein as "Kind of Blue."

Another point that strikes me, this is geezer power at its best. In the mist of all these young bucks (Davis, Coltrane, Coleman, etc) doing all this crazy shit in the 1960's, here's Ellington and Armstrong showing their punk-asses how it's done. Know what I'm sayin'?

And let me tell you, aside from the artistic value of this music, this album is simply fun to listen to. It's the sort of accessible music that nearly anyone can enjoy, even for those who don't know jazz. Put it on at dinner, put it on with your friends, definitely put it on for the ladies, it is simply fantastic.

I can't recommend this enough. Go listen to this.

Law Review Rumblings

As a few readers may be aware, I'm an associate editor this year with the Hamline Law Review. What does that entail, exactly? Funny you should ask.

One obligation consists of me sitting in a small room for approximately 4.5 hours on Friday evening, editing articles submitted by lawyers all over the country, and painstakingly checking all the cites to make sure they actually say what they say they do. Also, as I learned last week, my task is to try and make incomprehensible gibberish sound like it legitimately came out of the fingers of a qualified legal professional.

My law review denizens and myself quickly learned that after 4 and a half hours of the aforementioned activities, the only rational response once we finally get home is to drink. Preferably heavily.

The second obligation is to write an article, which theoretically will then be considered for publication. Everyone got split into 3 writing groups, corresponding to the 3 issues of the Law Review put out each year. I am in the second writing group, so I'm actually in the midst of researching my topic. For confidentiality reasons, I shouldn't be broadcasting my topic all over the internet, but I can say that it has to do with constitutional questions.

I suppose I'm a bit confused by the writing requirement of this law review gig. It's apparently normal practice to make new associates write articles, but I don't think that makes it any less strange. Not that I'm irritated or angry at it, since it's a fun activity, even if it is a horrendous amount of work. I don't know, maybe I'm just a bit confused. Given the degree of delirium that most people were approaching at the end of the meeting last Friday, maybe a bit of confusion is necessary.

In any event, it's a fairly busy week. It seems like the homework assignments for this week are just a bit weightier than weeks past, compounded by the fact that my Tuesday night is taken up by a ballgame and my Thursday is taken up by swing dancing. I guess it forces me to be more efficient in the morning.

In that vein, I went to Starbucks this morning to read some Corporations in the 3 hour interval between Evidence and Constitutional Law. I can't say I'm on a first name basis with any of the employees there, even given the fact that I seemed to spend my entire winter there last year. Well, I guess I do know Cindy, the middle aged woman cashier. Anyways, I was just a little weirded out this morning when some barista I couldn't recognize at all seemed to know who I was, as well as identify my preferred drink. And then he gave me an extra shot in my latte, seemingly just for the hell of it. Whatever, I didn't complain. I needed the caffeine.

Swing Dance Reflections

Recently, thanks to the prodding of an old friend from Luther, I've started going swing dancing. For those of you not familiar with my long and storied history, during my later high school and college years, I was quite into swing dancing. Not only did I go nearly every Thursday night when in the Cities, I went to swing club as much as possible when at school. I guess the pressures of senior year, coupled with the lack of adequate dance partners, kind of left me to drift away. Consequently, up until two weeks ago, I probably hadn't gone swing dancing in nearly 2 years.

But, like I intimated, thanks to the initiative of a friend, I've started going again. So every Thursday night, I spend about 5 hours at the Tapestry Folkdance Center in south Minneapolis, taking some group lessons, and then sticking around for the actual dance, which starts at 10. And I must say, it's been revelatory. I think I just forgot how much fun I had doing this.

I've been trying to think what the appeal of swing dancing is. To some extent, it has to be escapism, evidenced by the cast of characters who show up at the Tapestry every Thursday night dressed to the nines in their 1940's style outfits and zoot suits. And I suppose, I can relate to that, since I used to do the same thing. I think it's hard to listen to Sinatra and not feel a twinge of nostalgia for time past. It's hard to watch old swing videos and not come to the conclusion that those dancers of ages past weren't born in baggy dress pants or little black dresses. I guess if the physical act of dressing up helps you connect with the music, that's all fine and dandy. But as it seems to me, the observer, the contemporary manifestation is mostly an act. The folks most likely to don a zoot suit are the same folks who determine they need to either impress others, or convince themselves to be impressed.

At its heart though, I really do think swing dancing, maybe all social dance in general, is about impressing others. Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on the masses of university students in the suspenders. Maybe, in some misguided way, they get it.

Think about it. As the lead, men have the equal parts horrifying and exhilarating task of guiding the woman around the dance floor. It's our job to make the woman look good, with the hope that it will make us look good in general. And if you're with a particular partner, I'd imagine, the hope that the partner will think you look good.

Women like to dance with impressive men, whilst men seek out particularly adept women. And I think this is incredibly intimidating with swing, because like the music, it is an expressly improvisational activity. Moreso than other social dances, there is a flexibility to swing which allows any number of moves, combinations, or ideas to be expressed in a very visceral way. And I like to think, if you appreciate the nexus of both the music and dance as being indicative of a certain history and mindset, the expression is necessarily expressly emotional. That's the most important part.

There's one man in particular, who I love to watch dance. His name is Allen, I think, and he has to be somewhere around 75. He definitely looks like he could be one of the "greatest generation," and he dances like he's been literally infused with the music for his entire life. Which I think probably, is actually true. Anyways, he's kind of a nerdy looking dude; he always wears this newsboy cap, and he's always got one of those old person type shirts on. I think last week, he had a button up shirt with a bunch of 1950's style woodies with surfboards on them. But aside from that, whenever he's out swing dancing, it looks like there is nothing else he would rather be doing. And he is good. Not in any sort of flashy, "holy-shit-did-you-see-him-fling-that-girl" kind of way. But just from the way he smiles, how he moves, you know he gets it. I don't know how better to describe it. I think when you consider how this man has probably grown up with this music, he probably has it etched note for note in his bones, you can probably understand a bit of what I'm saying. I have this image of the guy, 60-odd years ago, doing the same stuff at some Army dance. Like you see in the movies.

Anyways, this was a wildly existential post. I didn't intend for it to go that direction, but I guess it happens. In any event, can't wait for Thursday.

Actual Listening and Talking?!

For all the fear and furor over Sen. Al Franken's election, and all the hyperbole about the lampshades he most certainly dons when he enters the Senate chambers, it turns out he's a pretty rational and non-crazy guy.



Holy shit, was that an actual, respectful debate on issues? I had no idea what one of those looked like! Good thing we didn't elect that crazy, partisan whack job as senator! Wait....

But it's not like Al Franken has a monopoly on rational health care debate in Minnesota. One of our other fine elected officials seems to have it down pat.

Album of the Week: Gimme Fiction

Hello folks, welcome back to the ever popular "Album of the Week" feature. This is where I tell you what music I've been listening to, why I like it, and why you, the reader, should also like it. This week's album is "Gimme Fiction," by Spoon.

Now let me be up front. I am not, nor do I claim to be any sort of indie rock connossieur. For street credibility purposes, I do have an 89.3 The Current window cling on my car. I do consider myself an avid fan of indie rock, or whatever you want to call what they play on The Current, but I can't say I seek out new and exciting music with my every spare moment.

I do have this one Spoon album though, and it's inspired me to check out some more of their stuff. I think the buzzword for this album is "eclectic." The tracks here definitely run the gamut, from a sort of quasi-classical/operatic rock tune (The Beast and the Dragon, Adored), to Prince-ish glam rock (I Turn My Camera On), to acoustic pseudo-ballad (I Summon You).

However, within the varying styles, there is a musical constant which pulls everything together. I think it can mainly be pointed to lead singer Britt Daniel's raspy vocals. Maybe raspy is not quite the adjective to use. Maybe "rough" would be a bit better. In any event, if Britt Daniel were to come up to me on the street, I would probably be struck with an uncontrollable urge to offer him a lozenge.

But you know, the roughness of the vocals works well, because they help to bring some of the more eclectic styles down to earth. It adds an element of familiarity. I'm not typically one to listen to Prince, so on "I Turn My Camera On," I quite welcomed the familiar vocals in order to help ease me into music. That's not to say that Daniel sings in a monotone throughout; indeed there is some rather impressive high range work on the aforementioned track.

If you ask me, this album is worth it simply for the first track, "The Beast and the Dragon, Adored." I say this because the track accomplishes a very impressive balancing act between some fantastic bass piano lines, a steady rock beat, and some grunge-inspired guitar work. The cumulative effect is to create a song that is almost operatic in quality. I can't explain it as well as I'd hoped, but there is a broad sweep to the music which I very much appreciate.

Another highlight is "I Summon You." I've heard this track get some pretty substantial airplay on 89.3, and I can understand why. It's the kind of song that goes perfectly with driving with the windows down on a sunny day. Preferably fast, with not a care in the world. If that's not enough of a word-picture, I don't know what will suffice. Another song I particularly enjoy is "Sister Jack." The vocals have some nice harmony, there's a nice easy 90's-ish guitar line, and a catchy, bold refrain.

So yes, Spoon's "Gimme Fiction." If you're in the mood for an eclectic, yet cohesive work of indie/alt rock, I would recommend you go out and purchase this album immediately. Its certainly inspired me to check out Spoon's music further.

Feed your ears!

State Fair

Mankind has produced some amazing things. The wheel. The steam engine. The computer. The deep fried cheese curd.

Yes, I wish I could have been there, at the moment of its conception. I can only imagine the dawn of realization that must have come across some lucky bastard's face, when he realized what would happen if he threw cheese in boiling oil. I mean really, what a great idea. The world has never been the same since.

No event stands testament to such culinary delights as the Minnesota State Fair, and I indulged heartily yesterday with some lawyer friends from school. When you think about it, food on a stick just makes so much sense. It's a convenient and practical way of making almost anything you can think of a hand food. Pork chop? Twinkie? Scotch egg? Hotdish? All can be transformed, by the power of frying oil, into a delicious one-handed snack. And since the State Fair happens but once per year, you can indulge with no guilt whatsoever.

I think the final tally went something like this.

1 - deep fried Snickers bar (on a stick)
2 - smattering of chocolate chip cookies
3 - the aforementioned cheese curds
4 - taste of gator and gator fries
5 - chocolate covered bacon (delicious)
6 - garlic fries
7 - bite of a scotch egg (on a stick)
8 - a quantity of Minnesota's own Summit beer

And I refuse to feel bad about it.

Of course, the fair isn't only about food. It's also about SWAG (shit we all get). I limited my SWAG consumption this year as opposed to years past, and I'm happy to announce that I only left with an MPR magnet, and some MPR buttons. The MPR booth actually, has a story attached to it. A group of us wanted our photos taken, looking superior, since that's the connotation with listening to public radio. And some MPR employee offered to take our photo for their website, and she offered us a small whiteboard to write a message on. Our tongue-in-cheek message read "We are better than you," in reference to the snooty air associated with MPR. And this woman, she just did not get the joke. She actually seemed really uncomfortable taking the photo. I imagined that MPR employees must be the most stuck up of them all, but apparently I was wrong.

I wish I had some of the photos to post from our other fair exploits, but alas, I do not yet possess them. I don't consider myself a very photogenic person, but after viewing the photos, I'm very impressed. There are great photos of us eating the chocolate covered bacon, recreating a cow birth with a stuffed animal at the miracle of life barn, looking pretentious at the MPR booth, looking horrified at the Republican Party's misleading propaganda on health care reform. Just really fantastic photos, I'll be sure to post once I get a hold of them.

So yes, the fair was a grand success, as it tends to be. I had a single moment of revulsion, when I looked into my cheese curd tray and noticed that my cheese curds were swimming about in a layer of grease which layered the bottom portion of the tray. But then I remembered the fair food mantra: no guilt.

I ate them all.