PT: Alex Chilton Remembered

I don't have much time, about fifteen minutes, so sorry that I can't get too much into explanation here.  On Wednesday, the music world lost a key figure in Alex Chilton.  Whether you know it or not, Chilton has been an influence on basically anything, mainly with his band Big Star.  Big Star have a huge cult following like Velvet Underground, only Lou Reed was loud and knew he was fucking cool.  Alex Chilton was the kid sitting in the corner just being a boss and not making everyone see.  However, his body of work is exemplary and should be viewed by all.  To honor him and Big Star, I'm going to post ten Big Star songs everyone should know.  Not all were written by Chilton, but he had a major effect on all, either melodically or musically.

1) Thirteen - The first Big Star song I knew because of Elliott Smith.  An absolute classic.  One of the sweetest and most innocent songs you will ever hear.

2) Kangaroo - Taylor and I once listened to this on a night drive back to his house, and spaced out for the entirety of the song, lost in it's brilliance.

3) I'm In Love With A Girl - A short, but meaningful song.  He says everything so simply, but with a voice like his, it sounds so complex.

4) Holocaust - The epitome of sad song.  Chilton was falling apart during Big Star's third album Sister Lovers, and this song is completely emblematic of it.

5) Stroke It Noel - Power pop with fantastic strings always gets the best of me.

6) Ballad of El Goodo

7) September Gurls

8) In the Street

9) Nighttime

10) Blue Moon

R.I.P. Alex Chilton.

TD: The loss of an Indie Legend, Alex Chilton

 Goodbye Alex

As I sit here in my dorm room waiting for Michigan State to I'm going to reflect on the late Alex Chilton. Pat Taylor would certainly post something about Chilton and since he's in the African bush, I thought I'd fill the void. Chilton, the lead singer of the 70s rock band Big Star, is often considered amongst musicians as the king of "indie." And as this blog is mostly made up of counter culture yuppies I thought you folks would appreciate a little praise for a lesser known classic rock icon.

Chilton did solo work after Big Star and was in a pop band, Box Tops, before Big Star's formation in '71. His unique voice and melancholy lyrics make him an influence on several musicians including the late Elliott Smith and REM. He was considered a media recluse, unwilling to do interviews or appear in public throughout his years post Big Star. He was known amongst those who knew him as being blunt but charming, in a very southern way (he hailed form Memphis, TE). The bands' three albums in the 1970s were a definitive example of Big Star's short but influential stamp on rock music. They were set to reunite for a performance at South by Southwest which is currently happening in Austin as we speak.

It's too bad that he passed at only 59, just days before their show. The music world won't forget the voice of Chilton and I suggest, if you aren't familiar with Big Star's music, you download/youtube a couple songs in his passing honor. "Thirteen" and "Nighttime" are two of my personal favorites but they have many gems.

That being said, I hope everyone is having a wonderful time in their world travels. Those back at Loyola, enjoy the beautiful weather Baltimore's having.

That's all for now.

Taylor

MM: Cool Places Where I Have Eaten Lunch

I recently asked a good friend of mine if he had ever eaten lunch on top of a waterfall, to which he replied:

“Once. When I was in the Secret Service. We were in Hawaii, Maui actually, and we were forced to camp out in the jungle for about six days. By Day Six we were starving, unprepared for such a long stay in the heat. So finally, I whittled down sticks to spears and killed about two birds. They were tiny, but enough to sustain us. So that our fires weren't seen, we built them atop a waterfall and ate those roasted birds as if we'd never eat again. It was wonderful.”

So no, he hadn’t eaten lunch on top of a waterfall. Which got me thinking…Since I’ve arrived in New Zealand, I’ve been to so many places that I didn’t even believe could exist before I set off on my journeys. Sure, I had heard about the beautiful beaches and clear, blue waters and towering mountains, but I never thought all these things would actually live up to the expectations that I had set for them. The fact that I have perched on a rock on top of a waterfall in northern New Zealand and consumed a ham sandwich just does not seem real to me. Doing something so ordinary, something I have done every day for the twenty-one years of my life, in a place that was so extraordinary really hit home the fact that I was in a completely different world than suburban Philadelphia or Loyola. I don’t have to construct some far-fetched story about roasting birds in the Secret Service to answer the question of whether or not I’ve eaten on top of a waterfall, because I actually have. How many people can say that?

All of these deep thoughts prompted me to make a list of the cool places I have eaten lunch in the past month:

1. In-n-Out Burger – To Californians this may not seem so out of the ordinary, but for me it was quite the experience. For months before setting off for New Zealand, my friends and I had been looking forward to the nine-hour layover in San Francisco mostly for the opportunity to eat a legendary In-n-Out burger. The moment I sat down at the table outside the restaurant, my burger, fries, and Coca-Cola in front of me as I was surrounded by equally excited and hungry friends and the warm San Francisco air, I knew my adventures had finally begun. In the end, the burger wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be, but it was a fitting last meal in America for four and a half months.

2. On a beach in the Bay of Islands – I wish I could tell you the name of the beach we ate at during our bus tour of the Bay of Islands, but all of the confusing Maori names blend together for me sometimes. Ignorant, I know, and I’m working on it. I remember it started with a T though. Anyway, it was surreal to be sitting in the grass slurping on strange fruit-juice concoction (New Zealand is all about combining apples and oranges and various other fruits into one drink) as breezes flew by and the water crashed on the beach right in front of us. It was nothing like having lunch on the beach in Jersey, where there are people every few feet and the sand has bits of trash everywhere and the water is gray. It was literally just us, on a beach, where the water was blue and the sand was spotless and white.

3. On top of a waterfall – As I mentioned before, I have eaten a sandwich on top of a waterfall, and I can only accurately sum it up as “unreal.” We almost seemed out of place, all forty Americans sitting on rocks and grass, munching away as the water rushed by. I felt like I shouldn’t be allowed to perch on the very edge of the waterfall, where one wrong slip could end very horribly. TSTLNer Jerry kept saying how he just wanted to jump into the pool below, which goes to show how out of our element we really were. Being in such naturally beautiful place messes with your mind a bit – it almost seemed a waste to be sitting there and not jump off the edge.

4. On a grassy patch on Queen Street in Auckland – A couple times I have grabbed a five-dollar kebab or some kumara fries on the main road in Auckland – Queen Street – and settled on a grassy patch just outside the Sky City Cinema. It’s not a particularly enchanting spot – it has a lackluster view of the construction of Aotea Square and of a Burger King, among other random restaurants and shops – but the atmosphere is something different for me. It’s a great people-watching place, as pedestrians bustle back and forth on their way to or from wherever they are going in Auckland. I think the appeal here is that I am sitting in the middle of a city I have anticipated coming to for so long, eating food and getting burnt by the unforgiving sun, like I belong or something. I certainly am starting to feel like I belong here as I become more confident in finding my way around, which is a comforting feeling considering I’m all the way on the other side of the world from my true home.

5. At a hostel on Waiheke Island – This one is technically dinner but I’m still going to include it. A couple weeks ago a bunch of TSTLNers (DK, Joey, Jerry, Chris), Britt (that really good volleyball player that Jerry blogged about a while ago), Pat (this kid from Georgetown that we have deemed worthy to join our crew) and I took a ferry to Waiheke Island, which is about 30 minutes away from Auckland, and eventually settled into a hostel by the beach for the night with fixings for a barbeque. Once all the burgers and sausages had been made and we were all sitting around a picnic table outside, a little buzzed off our drinks and getting our first glimpses of stars, I started to realize how lucky I really was. I was in New Zealand, just a five minute walk to a beach where I would be able to see countless stars, sitting next to a dog we named McBarkley. Had I not been given the opportunity to study in New Zealand, I probably would have been at home lazing around or preparing for a night out at the shitty bars on York Road. I became restless after a while, wanting to go experience everything at once. This place has that effect on me – I feel like if I sit for too long I’m missing out on something.

All in all, the point I’m trying to make is that I’m finally here in New Zealand, a place my friends and I had jokingly deemed a fantasy land before we arrived, and I still feel like it’s not real. Every day I learn more and more about the people and the places around me, but then things like waterfalls and volcanoes and star-encrusted skies get thrown my way and I start to wonder if this is all a dream.

Which is why I’ll end this post with a picture of graffiti on the Grafton Bridge, which I cross every day to get to classes and the city. When you read this, you also get a nice view of Rangitoto, a volcano near the city (I couldn’t capture it in the picture, but it’s there, I promise).

I’ll try to find some even crazier places to eat lunch to entertain you with in the future -- maybe eat a sandwich while chillin’ with a kiwi bird (they are nocturnal and so far very elusive so this would be quite a feat) or consume on Mount Doom (apparently this would involve hiking for eight hours so I highly doubt I will do this, but I won’t rule it out completely). Also I’m open to hearing about all the cool places people have eaten in their lives – I’m sure there are some secretly awesome spots at home that I’ve just never discovered.

Peace out!
Meag

TD: Abbey Road

I've always been fascinated by iconic cities--the ones that influence music, film, entertainment, and even history. Many cities manage to fulfill some of these duties, but if you were to ask a random person on the street to name the most famous cities in the world, I can guarantee that London would be in the top five, if not the top three. I came back to Copenhagen today after a week in The Queens Country, surrounded by the history and culture that you see in so many films and hear in so many songs. In fact, I nearly watched a "Waterloo Sunset" from outside of Waterloo Station as the Kinks sang about.

 Of course there are the usual landmarks--The Tower of London, London Bridge, Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, The British Museum, etc. Then there's the less "known"--Notting Hill, Camden, Brick Lane, Covet Garden, Tate Modern, etc. 

And then...there's Abbey Road. It sits comfortably in its own category as a musical mecca. Beatles fans worldwide travel to London to sit in front of Abbey Road Studios or walk across the street just as the Fab Four did in their famous album cover photograph. I considered shedding my shoes for a barefoot stroll like McCartney but the 45 degree whether forced me to restrain myself. Even being what I'd consider as a moderate Beatles fan (Much more since living in Europe), I was in awe. In the middle of a very quaint (and very rich) residential neighborhood, is where perhaps the greatest rock band in world history recorded a volume of music that may never be topped.

A white wall lines the front yard of the small studio and on it are messages to the legends themselves. "We love you, yeah yeah yeah" and "Beatles >God" are just a few I noticed. Some more unfavorable messages like "Let it Be--Paul" also appeared. There was no retail store in sight (no commercial "Beatlesmania gimmick stores or touristy boutiques around this Rock monument)...just a white house where the studio is still functioning, a long wall with the marks of the inspired, and a cross walk.  

Music fans of all kinds owe a little something to the Beatles. That's how I looked at my thirty minute journey from Central London to the residential community of St. John's Wood (City of Westminster) where the studio resides--As a thank you. 

Taylor

DK: On the Auckland Domain

In the Park in the City of Sails on an Island in Oceania

By Daniel Koster

            I’m surrounded.  It’s February, but summer.  My being is enveloped by the leafy crown of a vibrant tree; my body coddled by its roots.  The shooters poking out of the ground provide a convenient seat.  My back rests on the big guy’s trunk.  A comfortable spot, I’ve found.  It must be an ancient tree, as many that he lives near are indefinably old.  His home is the Auckland Domain—a park minutes from my new home in the City of Sails: Auckland, New Zealand.

            As I attempt to look through the tree’s encompassing perimeter, a perimeter composed of leaves and branches; I can see bits and pieces of my friends and dorm-mates.  They’re playing a game of footie, or soccer in other regions.  I chose not to join.  Instead, I’m sitting of to the side enjoying a chilly New Zealand Lager and listening to jazz and blues.  I wouldn’t trade this.

            When I began to write, the western sky was aglow.  Pink and purple clouds danced over the rolling hills of the Domain.  As I continued to write, their ritual would not wait.  They tangoed over the museum, a classically beautiful building atop a hill.  It wouldn’t feel out of place in Washington, DC—my home’s capitol.  The clouds waltzed past the six or eight cricket games being hosted right off the grandstand.  By another field, they two-stepped over the heads of rugby players.  As the games rage on, wives grill kiwi style sausages as children watch their father’s bash on towards glory.  Although currently beyond presentable recognition, they see in their fathers what they one-day hope to see in themselves.  By why stop there?  More than one child might envision himself an All Black—just as a Brooklyn boy might see himself a Yankee.  Here, especially in the context of this upward-looking- piece-of-literature, it’s quite easy to remember that the sky’s the limit.

As the clouds move on, they haka’d over the fernery—home to a nursery of native ferns and indigenous plants.  You know, I bet they even saw their reflection in the courtyard’s pool located in between the two winterhouses.  The residents of this courtyard, four romantic statues, one labeled “summer,” another labeled “winter,” another labeled “spring” and yet another labeled “fall” likely found the cloud’s passing as enjoyable as they had the first evening they’d witnessed such a scene.

            The light show continues westward.  While its 8 pm on a Wednesday here, back home in New York it’s 2 am.  As far as days of the week are concerned, my friends and family and everyone that I have ever known has finally caught up—but only for a little while.  The sun keeps traveling!  It keeps traveling so that my friends in New Zealand can have a night to sleep to.  But it also travels so that those I love back home can have a Wednesday.  The sun’s fair that way.  We’ll talk tomorrow.  But wait, isn’t that today?

BB: The land before rhyme (or reason)

In the words of the late Cecil B. DeMille, "film transcends". Plots, settings and ,of course, emotions. Film can transport us, the lowly mortals so often jaded by the rough truths of the world, to a place of ethereal beauty. Here feelings flow freely as visual and auditory stimuli fuse into a cathartic river. A river straight to the heart. As a firm believer in the ability of film to express beauty so often overlooked in our individual human dramas, I feel a strong sense of vigilantism whenever the sacred medium of film is denigrated by bad movies. Thus, my friends, I am embarking on a quest to seek out and destroy deplorable dramas, condescending cliched comedies, and all other genres which defame quality cinema.

I begin today with a children's classic: The land before time. A heartwarming adventure that follows Littlefoot's path from the Great Beyong to the Great Valley, this film also serves as a coming of age story, as Littlefoot must find himself in order to find his way. Dealing with the death of his mother, the movie endeavors to shop kids the transparency of death, as well as carrying on in the face of adversity. All in all, a masterpiece. Thanks Mr. Spielberg. I have no beef with this movie.

What I do "have beef with" is "The land before time III: The Time of the Great Giving"....also read as "The Land Before Time III: The Quest for more money". Spielberg would have done well to dissociate himself with this picture. A simplistic storyline (even by children's standards) combined with a half-assed critique of bullying made the film sub-par. But what made it an affront to cinema is the flawed environmental science on which it is based. In this land (before time) herbivores live harmoniously in a green utopia. Tree-stars are a-plenty and there is zero predation. Any predators that enter the valley are perjoratively known as "sharp-teeth" and are demonized without regard for their ecological role. As apex predators, the sharp-teeth are not mindless monsters, but are merely fulfilling a niche. The convoluded food web of the Great Valley will no doubt result in an unmitigated disaster. Without sharp-teeth, the herbivores will reproduce beyond the carrying capacity of the environment, exhaust its resources, and starve. Sorry Littlefoot, no tree-stars today. Be sure to thank your elders for overgrazing. Dumbasses, no wonder dinosaurs went extinct.

Another, more minor problem was that of accurate species portrayal. This became quite apparent when the herbivores were attacked by what can only be deinonychus ( the real raptor from Jurrassic park). Deinonychus, for you non-Precalc majors/Paleontology minors out there measures between 5 and 6 feet in height and averaged 180 lbs. An Apatosaurus (long-neck) measured nearly 75 feet in length and weighed close to 25 tons. In the film, this "sharp-tooth" came up to Grandpa's shoulder. That's Bologna.
Next time I might actually write a serious critique of a truly bad movie. I'm open to suggestions.
Get Some, BB