the birthday mix

I made a mixtape for Gill's roommate's birthday. Hopefully she won't find the link to this blog in my AIM profile, therefore discovering the surprise (albeit cheap) gift's coming.

The tracklisting isn't anything special; I aimed to just put together a collection of songs she might enjoy from artists she's probably had little contact with in the past. Most are relatively new acts, though there are a couple classic bands tossed in for good measure and educational purposes.

1 - Asobi Seksu - "New Years"
2 - Bears - "Everywhere"
3 - Bedroom Walls - "In Anticipation of Your Suicide"
4 - Casper & the Cookies - "Learn How to Disappear"
5 - Diamond Nights - "Destination Diamonds"
6 - Elf Power - "Walking with the Beggar Boys"
7 - The Essex Green - "Penny & Jack"
8 - Evangelicals - "Into the Woods"
9 - Foma - "Another Day in Paradise"
10 - Headlights - "Lions"
11 - The High Dials - "Strandhill Sands"
12 - Hot Chip - "(Just Like We) Breakdown"
13 - The Little Ones - "Heavy Hearts Brigade"
14 - The Long Winters - "Teaspoon"
15 - Madeline - "Seeing Double"
16 - New Order - "Regret"
17 - Oh No! Oh My! - "I Have No Sister"
18 - The Olivia Tremor Control - "Jumping Fences"
19 - Page France - "Grass"
20 - Phoenix - "Everything is Everything"
21 - Plus/Minus - "I've Been Lost"
22 - Voxtrot - "Long Haul"

----where you at Casons?----

Too much music

Somewhere in the midst of my million complaints, I have one that concerns the abundance of music that finds itself willing my ears into giving it a shot, or a review, or a purchase, or whatever. That's the problem--I want to hear too much, to know too much about a mountain that's too enormous for anyone to traverse, much less conquer. Whether I find solace in its simplicity, complexity, ethics, politics, or even just the melody, there's never enough time to know all the music under my roof, and it just keeps piling up: the flea market visits, the trips to the record store, scouring discount online stores, or the abundance of music that winds up in my mailbox in the hopes that I'll give it my semi-critical eye for the world to see, it's a wolf in sheep's clothing. Those clothes have been slowly coming off for the past couple of years, and I'm only partially aroused by what's underneath. I'll tell the truth. I don't own anything by Led Zeppelin or The Rolling Stones! How's that for a critic's collection? The truth is, I just haven't gotten around to it. If I'm lending my ear to that particular time period, it's for The Kinks and Love, The Beach Boys and The Zombies, Phil Ochs, The MC5, The Stooges, The Velvet Underground, etc.

----incomplete----

This one needs this name, and so it is

Huh, well, I came back to Virginia. Don't ask me why, it just felt like the easiest thing to do. Maybe I'm weak, immature, and this move indicates my unwillingness to face the weight of adulthood. Responsibility, we're not made for each other. Okay, that's not the entire truth, but shit, I can't keep anything straight beyond my music and book collections. Bills? I'll work on it.

The good news is, I'm not attempting to sell life insurance anymore. Trying to sell anything would make me feel scummy, but this job in particular made me feel like I was whoring away my sole and my principles, my anti-capitalistic stance and humanist idealism carelessly left out in winter's breath. Can't do it, won't do it. Stepping into the homes of the working poor isn't a task I want to repeat, at least not on the grounds of business. Upon my return to Radford, an old professor and I chatted for a few minutes about my Texas jaunt, and we shared the same sentiments about the insurance biz. He told me that he knew I couldn't successfully work a job like that; we've had numerous bouts of small talk on the state of the nation and basic personal philosophies, and we're pretty much on the same plane when it comes to those matters.

I've got a year to drift, or do whatever, so long as I cover my bills. Freelancing looks like it's peering out from behind a dingy dumpster in my moonlit alley, and I'm happy with its pennies for payment. Hey, it's experience, right? Substitute teaching might be hanging from a fire escape, looking for a place to land, and I'm here, arms wide open and braced for impact.

A year of reflection, or preparation, or some combination of the two has to be the ultimate goal, for next year probably holds graduate school. Radford University may be opening its doors for my lack of ambition, but this time it'll be the English Department. A writer, is that what I'm gonna be? Doubtful, but I wouldn't mind teaching it. I'm too self-conscience and boring to be a teller of tales, but I can't my existence useful for anything beyond passing my limited knowledge down to others. Teaching people how to think is my aim, but I won't inundate you with a spiel on why the majority of today's youth (and adults, too) lack the ability to see beyond what's in their immediate field of vision. Thin Lizzy sang about a jailbreak, I want to show people how to yank the keys off the fat, dishonest, lazy prison guard.

See you soon, darling.

- Fright Zone