Music is like a rash. All you need, really, is a tiny start... just something that itches enough to make you notice it. So you scratch. And it spreads. And pretty soon, you itch all over. And you're compelled to give in to the music rash, because it just feels so bloody good.
And so it was with TV on the Radio. I like both the discs these fellows have put out -- their music is lovely and rich and brilliant, like a piece of chocolate ganache that is hearty. But the show... the show. It's always about the show.
My review of this has been rattling around in my head for nearly a week now, and I can't quite spit it out. Here's why: as a kid, I had a poster that said, Music speaks of that which cannot be put into words, and that which also cannot remain silent. And that says it. That's what happened at TV on the Radio. Their music is rich, and passionate, and says so much, but not in lyrics. I have never felt more like music actually entered my body and intermingled with each of my senses than I did at this show. It was an amazing fusion of music and passion and an awareness of physical being. Extraordinarily cool.
The Last King of Scotland
Saw it last night. Since it was based on a true story, it's not as if the plot was anything mind-shattering (though, to think about the Ugandan culture, all it had been through, and what happened in the 70s... its like a bad teenage rebellion gone hellishly wrong)... anyway, it was a solid movie. What most impressed me was the cinemetography. I had talked a bit this weekend with friends about perspective in photography -- I have always wanted to do a "glasses" series of photos, in which the object in the photo is half-obscured like it would be if I were to look out sideways when wearing glasses. This movie was a great example of perspective in cinematography. Nicholas, the main character, is spending his first moments away from Scotland in Uganda. And scenes transition in this film using such lovely perspective: a mosquito on flesh. Insects in the night sky. Those small, unnoticable things that, when you are away from home, are burned into the archives of your memory. I had the same experience in Ireland this summer... and I think some of my photography reflects that: the thistles, the ruins, the abandoned fence and the empty pint glass. Well done, and it spoke to something I find artful. So yah. Time well spent.
Harry's Carribean
Ate roti for the first time last night. Yum. I mean. YUM. I had a pork curry roti. Allow me to decribe: imagine warm flatbread, softer and more moist than pita, but about the same concept. Now, fill that flatbread with a mixture of tender pork, almost mushy potatoes, spices, veggies, and curry that's obviously curry, but not like an asian curry... spicy and warm and complex and like no other curry you'll eat. Then, wrap it all up, get your fork and knife, and consume.
It was cold as, well, Minnesota in October, last night... and this steaming, gently spicy culinary masterpiece was total comfort food. I am not sure how it was birthed in Trinidad and Tobago... but whatever. I have a new favorite place for winter comfort food.
Love Graffiti
Diana and I have been spotting (or maybe just noticing, now that our eyes are open to it) a bunch of graffiti around town, all centered around love. It is adorable.. all these little anti-establishment love notes on cement. There needs to be more public displays of art, of happiness, of good uses for a can of spraypaint. A recent, very cool, example, as found by Diana herself:
Surly
Tried Surly (local brewery) for the first time over the weekend. A couple things of note: 1) I am fast becoming a beer snob (much like I am already a coffee snob). But that's OK. I'm beginning to recognize the ingredients in beer -- when brews have too much hops, when ales finish at the perfect moment of smoothness, that while I don't overall enjoy stout, I can find one every now and again that hits the spot. (in fact, there was a coffee beer that I thought was brilliant. But again -- love the coffee.) Anyway, I am yet again delighted to live in an urban area with a thriving local community of something else I'm into -- beer. (damnit, Ireland. I didn't love beer so much before I spent 10 days swilling it as my life's blood.) Yay beer!
Sparkling Apple Cider and Cheddar
OK, I don't really have a link for this. But I do feel compelled to mention that I found the combination of drinking sparkling cider (from the bottle) and aged cheddar (from the block) while doing the fall-leaf drive, pretty damn cool.
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