Fifteen years ago today:

Holy fucking hell.

More than a snafu, less than an imbroglio:

It was to this that I was referring in my previous post:

The Stranger | Seattle | Line Out: The Stranger's Music Blog | Harvey Danger… You Know, They Had That One Song

A bit of noise has surrounded my Seattle Sound Harvey Danger piece and neither Sean nor I are enamored of the full-page fishstick version that hit the stands last week. (Check out p. 42 and feast, as it were.)

On a more cheerful note, Steve's Fremont News features the current SN/LD-sporting Seattle Sound in their display window and next door at Sonic Boom, gi-normous posters of "PtDtB" and "Plans" greet sidewalk revellers. Today: Fremont. Tomorrow: the world.

Brief sundry missives:

To my friend who skipped yoga this week to buy vibrators: I think you're onto something.

To the guy at the bus stop near my place who both danced and disrobed this afternoon: please don't.

To my editors who made this week great: thankee kindly.

To those who didn't: well, you made it interesting.

It'll be the ubiquitous indie rock bangs that push me over the edge...

...(seriously, the entire crowd *cannot* sport the same fucking haircut at each goddamned show) but I know what he's talking about:

From today's McSweeney's, by Brian Beatty:

So Emo.

Next time I'm at a concert and the hipster standing next to me lifts his lighter into the air during his favorite song, I'm going to ask to borrow that lighter. Then I'm going to set that hipster on fire. As he rolls on the ground trying to extinguish the highly combustible blend of cotton and polyester that just moments earlier was a ringer T-shirt decorated with an Air Supply silk-screen that's suddenly even more ironic, I'm going to ask, 'Why aren't you yelling ''Freebird'!' now?' "

Timothy McSweeney's Internet Tendency: Jokes by Brian Beatty.:

Total disonnance:

Most of the news in my world this week was off-the-charts, stratospherically good, but the Middle East is literally on fire as I write this and on Friday, a gunman killed a woman and injured several others at the Jewish Federation in Seattle. People aren't safe to worship in Belltown? What the hell?

And on a far, *far* less important note, today I ran into someone I think is an utter ass, but for the sake of the family, I was nice to him. He's balding and unemployed again, so at least there's that.

Finally:

Seattle's temperature dropped last night and I'm delighted. (Mad sympathy to my New York and California friends who are still baking like pie.) As I await the return of cognitive function, go ahead and look at pretty things:

enokiworld : vintage clothing for modern women

It's here:

The Long Winters' third LP, "Putting the Days to Bed" is out today. As previously mentioned, it is a big ball of wonderful. And if you don't think the fourth track, "Hindsight", is one of the most lyrically evocative songs of the past several years, well, you're dead to me.

You can purchase "PtDtB" pretty much everywhere, but if you live in Seattle, your experience will be augmented by several degrees of rockitude if you snag it here:

Sonic Boom Records

Or, of course, you can order it directly from the label (what? who?):

Barsuk Records specials

Now, on to the rock!

"Everyone knows someone who needs this bill."--Senator Charles Schumer, D-NY

President Bush just vetoed HR 810, the stem cell research bill that passed the House and Senate by large measures and found support from Republicans as conservative as Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist.

HR 810 can still become a law if the House overrides the veto with a 2/3 majority. If inclined, you can urge your congressional representative to vote accordingly. House contact information can be found at www.house.gov.

Like everyone...

...I've found the news of the past few weeks (in particular) to be gut-churning. So if you're seeking a reminder that, as a species, we do get it right sometimes, I recommend Jeffrey Kluger's enthralling "Splendid Solution: Jonas Salk and the Conquest of Polio":

Powell's Books - Splendid Solution: Jonas Salk and the Polio Vaccine by Jeffrey Kluger

Today I'm just glad for clean water on tap and the fact that the ceaseless noise on my street comes from traffic, not armory.

The planets are in alignment:

brooklynvegan: Jon Stewart, Sufjan Stevens, Dave Eggers, Sarah Vowell, & John Roderick | An 826NYC Benefit show

My new best friend:

From Magnet's current cover story on Belle and Sebastian's Stuart Murdoch, p.68 (print only):

"'I love reading biographies about creative processes, whether they're artistic or scientific,' says Murdoch. 'You see people's lives documented and what they have gone through. But the whole time, things are sometimes working out for them, something is brewing, something is simmering to the top.'

This is subject extremely close to Murdoch's heart. Prior to forming Belle and Sebastian, he suffered through a long bout of chronic fatigue syndrome, also known as myalgic encephalomyelitis (ME), a debilitating illness that basically shut down his waking life. During the process of emerging from this fog, he found new strength through making music.

'I wouldn't be a songwriter if I hadn't gotten sick,' says Murdoch. 'I had an extended period of seven years when I was out of the game, when I gave up all aspects of normal life, and the songwriting was a crutch. I was absolutely hanging onto these songs with a drowning person's grip, they being the only productive thing that I did at all. I realized as soon as I sat down at the piano three years into this thing that I could put words together with melody and create something. It's almost like the first minute doing this, I saw it all stretching ahead and realized that it was something I could feel worthwhile doing; I could document how I was feeling in this vacuum.

'What doesn't kill you makes you,' Murdoch chuckles. 'It was the biggest thing that happened in my life. No question, no doubt. I don't mean to be macabre, but it's often those transient periods that are sometimes the most interesting things to write about when it comes to characters in songs.'"

On par with rabbits, "Slouching Towards Bethlehem"...

...vintage Eisenberg jewelry, the Chrysler Building lit at night, and Sea Garden's sweet and sour pork:

Stream the Long Winters' upcoming disc, "Putting the Days to Bed", at Mammothpress.com:

Mammoth Press

"I was starting to get worn out, but after a few minutes lying on a picnic table I realized that it would be all too easy in the warm Tennessee...

...night to just doze off, and the last time I passed out around this many hippies I woke up two days later on the Green Tortoise outside of Redding, California carrying a briefcase full of blueberry pancakes. That was NOT going to happen again."

Part Three of JR's CMJ Bonnaroo report:

cmj.com | new music first

Disparate times call for disparate measures:

Aforementioned cancer was caught, basically, at the instant it developed. Said friend, who sports the immune system of an alpha male mountain goat, should be a-okay. Knock on wood.

Best line this week, from the barrista who accidentally undercharged me by fifty cents: "Go ahead and keep it. It's not like you're Joseph Stalin or anything."

And my friend, the oft-mentioned E, whose talent is matched only by his ability to vex, has launched a new blog, Vonnegut's Asshole. Show him the love he so richly deserves:

Vonnegut's Asshole

Off to the wedding!

Overload:

Yesterday I discovered someone I love has cancer and tonight I attended a rehearsal dinner for someone I also love very much.

There is too much I will never understand.

Write like this or don't write at all:

JR covers the Bonnaroo Festival for CMJ:

Part One:
cmj.com | new music first

Part Two:
cmj.com | new music first

We're doing this with Scotch tape and mirrors:

After a delightful seven day streak at 98.6, this morning the fever returned with a vengeance and by afternoon, I felt like I was walking underwater. The silver lining, if one must search for it, is that the pre-deadline cacaphony is momentarily silenced. I can only hear one voice, because I'm too out of sorts to hear the rest.

Sleep beckons.

From the deadline cave:

Can anything compare to the quiet mournful beauty of the 1:00 a.m. sky? The still and enveloping grace of the sweet nocturnal visage?

Sometimes this is so much fun:

1) My Seattle Sound cover story on Elvis Costello is out now:

Seattle Sound

2) And my friend, E, is writing his debut feature for Vanity Fair.

Awesomeosity with compound interest.

Do not go gentle into that good night:

For the past few days, the air has felt like a solid and Seattle has experienced alternating bouts of flypaper stickiness and alacritous showers.

My hair has responded accordingly.

When I'm in New York in the summer, I know the rules. My hair might resemble kudzu by 3pm, but there are beef franks at Green Papaya and beet salads at Babbo and long(ish) walks through Central Park. There are contemplative afternoons in St. Patrick's Cathedral and journeys through the Met and luggage-altering trips to the Strand. Shows at Park Slope's Southpaw (preceded by iced soy mochas at the nearby Gorilla Coffee), grasshoppers at the Algonquin, the candy shop at the Plaza, Piano's followed by Katz's, the jewelry counter at Barney's flagship store, 1am jaunts through Times Square, and so many boutiques in the West Village, SoHo and NoHo that my heart dances at the thought. (No, obviously, I don't live this way. I save to splurge when I'm over there.)

So my hair occasionally looks like Brillo. There are trade-offs and no one gets everything they want. But here's the thing: I've come to love Seattle in the past eighteen months or so in a way I didn't think was possible. It finally got interesting again and for the first time, I feel as much at home in my home as I do in New York.

That said, I'm unwilling to deal w/ this stuff on my head just so I can see one more show at Hugo House.

Elements, you've been warned: I call bullshit.