Thursday, November 19, 2009

Swim Until you can't See Land

Just a quick HOLY SHIT for ya tonight...


Frightened Rabbit's new video for "Swim Until you Can't See Land" is so warm and cozy in the comfiest of ways. Aren't you familiar with those shows you go to when you can't tell who is a bigger fan of whom? You know, the artist is just right in the shit of it, standing in the middle of he crowd, in awe of the lyrics being screamed back at them? It's like that. Plus... This is the coolest flashlight party I've ever seen. God, I can't wait for The Winter of Mixed Drinks. Which comes out in MARCH. Really, Fat Cat Records? Enjoy Scott Hutchison & Co with some other gems...
3. Behave

Cheers,
Merman

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Monday, November 9, 2009

'Tis the Swell Season!


STOP THE PRESSES!

I usually let it go a week, or 3 months, or so until I say anything on here. However, Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová, (you may recall weeping over their albums together as The Swell Season.. and let us not forget Once) released Strict Joy on the 27th, and subsequently completed my second, and maybe third, life. They got the name right, that's for sure. Their lyrics and melodies swell in the heart and what overflows can only be described as complete and unadulterated joy and sorrow and love and awe. It's quite impressive, really.
It's happy and heartful and souful and haunting; a candid shot of a heart on a sleeve. If you're truly aching for something that will catch all the fish hooks surrounding your heart and tug up the greatest and most genuine ardor lurking under the surface, Strict Joy will have you reaching for a Kleenex and and hand to hold. Still trying to figure out how to speak the fiery Goidelic language of love, maybe this Irishman will look at me with those deep pools of blue green eyes and sing In These Arms.... Sigh.

From Strict Joy:
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Friday, November 6, 2009

Whoaaaa Backlog.


So... It's been a while. HI!

This is what happened: A friend told me, well, he told me didn't like what I wrote. We'll let it be that. Here is how I felt: Stupid. So I stopped writing. Here is what that was: Stupid. Then I read Kurt Vonnegut's Breakfast of Champions. And I forgot all about my my friend's superiority complex.

This is what it felt like:

I remembered that crazy is awesome. Awesome and crazy are two terms that can sometimes be opposite. The former describing a moment of awe, an impressive and somewhat unimaginable event. The latter usually indicates a negative and uncontrolled aspect of a person or thing. These terms are meant to put people in boxes in which they have either put themselves or someone else has done for them. Vonnegut reminded me that I hate boxes. And also, that sometimes your opinion sucks. I'd like to pay reckless disregard to any opinions of anyone who doesn't think, well, anyone who doesn't think he's any good, and so on. This is an Ode to Vonnegut. An ode is a dedication usually expressed in the form of medias like song, poety, acting, singing, or mixtapes. Definitely mixtapes. It is meant to put someone on a box, instead of in one. Here is one to Kurt Vonnegut.

This is what it sounds like:

  1. Rain Machine - Give Blood
  2. Surfer Blood- Swim to reach the end
  3. Islands - Vapours
  4. Karen O & The Kids - Rumpus
  5. United State of Electronic - Open your eyes
  6. Julian Casablancas - 11th Dimension
  7. Coco Rosie - Werewolf
  8. RJD2 - All for You
  9. Fool's Gold - Surprise Hotel
  10. Codes in the Clouds - Fractures
  11. Yeasayer - Ambling Amp
  12. Kings of Convenience - Boat Behind
  13. Kurt Vile - Blackberry Song
  14. The Cave Singers - Hens of the Woods
  15. Broken Social Scene - Hit the Wall
Cheers,
Merman

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Monday, August 24, 2009

The Hazards of Life: Death!



A couple of days ago I was bobbing along in the subway listening to this album and reading a book about death. Well, death's expression in music, and how most songs today fail to capture the appreciation and acceptance of it, anyway. I must say, the combination of these was rather humbling.  There was something about the simple and comforting lull of the guitar paired with a heart-aching folk undertone that did the trick. It stirred me to a level of calm and heavy contemplation I needed to feel the kind of emotion Graeme Thompson was talking about.

 (If you're wondering...)

Usually, my love of music derives from it's ability to lift me up,  it's capacity to enliven me beyond any other form of expression.  I usually just scour tracks for the spark of a new high. Oh, Piss off, you do it too.  Some have alcohol, and others have heroin. I, however, have a spanked-new 120 BPM pulse laid over banjos and key-tars. Okay. That's possible OD (and, I guess that'd be fitting for this post?)...But you get the picture.  I've never taken music much further than a high. Oh, believe me. Its been a deep and soulful high.  But it always has a lofty objective.

I've never really explored the feeling beyond that. You know...the feeling once the music fades. The feeling when your heart stops beating.  The very moment when you feel the light leaving your eyes. When is the last time you heard something that accepted and described death in human terms?

Well - I'm not sure if it was the words of the book, or the hushed, stirring rhythm of Blind Pilot's fortitude that got me.  But something did. And I considered it for a moment. It's a simple emotion, really, how we feel about death.  So why does it seem like the artistic expression of it got lost in 'Trying to get to Heaven' by Bob Dylan? (...by the way, I think I like reading about him more than listening to him, sorry.) Why is it that most artists today stand around twiddling their thumbs when asked about Katrina or Iraq? Why is it that every song we listen to about the most shallow levels of sex or love or anger or complacency or apathy or protest? At least, that's basically what I catch in the lyrics of my favorite songs.  And even more-so, why is it easier to write and talk extensively about death now than it is to feel it? I know I've ignored it.  Probably because I'm 23 and stupid and scared of it and I have enough modern technology to forget it exists even though it will probably happen to me when I'm 400, maybe.

It doesn't have to be all that bad or unapproachable, now does it? I listened to a few tracks, swallowed hard, and I thought about how I would feel and what it might mean if I thought about death in a real way. Not fist fighting a silver back gorilla, and not flying off of a cliff in a 1966 Thunderbird Convertible holding Louise's hand (yes, I'm Thelma in this scenario).  I mean death in the understanding that it will happen, and I should probably make sense of the whole fuss.  

I guess I would treat it like any other life promenade.  I'd get ready, quibble around for something to wear - give up - and wear something comfortable like I always do. I'd make sure the people I wanted were there, you know, the friends that laugh from the gut and ask more questions than favors. Then I'd find some music everyone could live with, okay, maybe just me. Then, I think I could welcome the warm, dark, numbing wave of the waters of Lethe. I think if I was hoary and decaying I would be at peace with it all. A little tired,  a little humbled, and so grateful.  Not unlike a really, really fun, long night out? You're exhausted, but so glad you did it.  It'd be a rest well deserved, I think.  And, anyway,  it'd be the first time I shut my mouth and quit ranting. I think that'd make death a little more pleasant for anyone, really. 

So if you want to think about it... here's how a few taxpayers take a stab at death (Hah! Get it? The only things certain are taxes & de-? ...Stab at dea-?... oh well.) And Yes, I've purposely dodged the more notable ballads that Thompson mentioned in 'I Shot A Man'...savoir-faire, dudes.

8. Today - Smashing Pumpkins (had to do it, sorry.)

Cheers, 
Merman
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Thursday, August 6, 2009

Scarlett and Pete... really?


So I never thought I'd say it... But Scarlett Johasson has an O.K. voice. To clarify, I said, "O.K."


Her track with Pete Yorn, "Relator"... Is really (cringe) not.. that.. bad..


If their album The BreakUp is anything like it, I think I might gain a little more respect for the little busty bombshell, and stick her on an adjacent shelf as Zooey. (No, not the same level, before you go Indie-pop psycho on me.)
Thoughts?
Anyway. It's not a mixtape.
But if you like this track you might also like:


Cheers!
Merman


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Thursday, July 16, 2009

An Aural Anatomy of Summer


By now, anyone and everyone can identify summer with a rusty click on the window AC, and the smell of SPF 30 and Rum (combined, of course). There seems to be a tradition with these smells and sounds that pack up summer neatly in their bottles and knobs, tucked away and ready for the next extended string of 80 degree days.

(Observe relaxation here)
For me, that sweet, sweet spark of summer means stepping up to the challenge of making a deck that:
A) not only captures the balmy thrill of air conditioners and sunscreen, but also
B) Proudly declare 'piss off!' to every other Marley carting carbon copy playlist that rears its ugly head year after year.

Sure, the nostalgia is comforting. But never as magical as the first time a true memory is made. So here are some new ones. A summer mapped out in 25 tracks.

Listen here

(bring it up in a new window, then come back and read along! Or just click on them..)

1. Something Good Can Work - Two Door Cinema Club 
Whoa! That's bright, thank you first blinding days of sunshine...
2. Roman History - Pet Lions 
You'd never know it wasn't a classic, but it's definitely just as fun. Even if you don't like pop, its summer, you let it slide.
3. Us - Regina Spektor 
Oh, how beautiful summer can be. This track puts the A-to-the-V for all the pretty things.
4. Silver Lining - Rilo Kiley One of those perfect early July Friday evenings, where you're still coy enough to get giddy about patio parties.
5. Medicine- Starfucker  ...But after a few on the deck, someone busts out the happiest dance music they can find on short notice, and so it starts.
6. Silver City - Ghostland Observatory 
Get at least: 40 into it... then you won't skip it, and or the 5th tequila shot that launches idol feet onto the dance floor.
7. I (Joe Beats Remix) - Andrew Bird 
Mr. Bird makes it onto roughly 1/3 of my mixes, even the popped up versions of his nectar.
8. Sunship Balloons - The Flaming Lips 
Out of the many to choose from, this is the one Flaming Lips song I'm allowing, because I have a feeling that there is more potential for new memories.
9. Shotgun - Pete Yorn 
A solid, uncharacteristically optimistic release from his new album, released, you guessed it, this summer.
10. I don't know what I can save you from - Kings of Convenience 
And since we're relaxing in hammocks and whatnot, everyone needs some major chord packed strumming euro-alty crooners to wash down the rum...
11. Please, please, please let me get what I want - The Smiths 
God. Don’t you just want to stand in the middle of a room and feel that unapologetic inconvenient idiotic spark of attraction coming from a hazy stare, a couple of drinks, a late night, and a poor decision on a jukebox?
12. Always like this - Bombay Bicycle club 
And then the next day you realize you got caught up in the moment and you hit those sunglasses harder than anything. Ever.Oh and if you ever wondering what'd it's be like to dance with me, watch the video.
13. Stanger Lover - Ghostland Observatory 
By far the funkiest summer jammy jam. For midsummer when you've finally unwound and felt pure gratification of the season.
14. Shot in the back of the head -Moby 
Something about July allows a fun little thing to happen in your brain that November is far too miserable to do: total connection to the breeze, the warmth, the sky, the grass and you mind... and it's all clear and open.
15. The Girls - Calvin Harris 
Go ahead. Go to any club this summer. You probably hate this song by this point. But every summer has a sticky one. And this one is it.
16. Reckoner's Encore - Jaydiohead 
And this is just fucking cool. Don't worry white folk. Move Ov-a Justin Timberlake, it's cool for white people to listen to hip hop again.
17. Pop Song - Starfucker 
Somewhere between the first drink at home and the ill-conceived cab ride home that overdraws your account. (Which you didn't account for a $90 tab anyway, who knew?)
18. Breakin' Up - Rilo Kiley 
Its okay, guys. It's nearly August, and it's okay for you to listen to girls.
19. Friday I'm in love - The Cure 
Okay. You've gone most of the summer with some new tunes. I guess you can have a little reminiscence peppered in.
20. Folding Chair - Regina Spektor 
Another phenomenal summer release.
21. Pot Kettle Black - Wilco 
It's early August. The humidity is finally out of the night air, and you've subconsciously moved from excitement to contentment.
22. Ragged Wood - Fleet Foxes 
It's prime season for a bonfire, without the sweat rag.
23. Reasons to love you - Meiko 
I know. You're not ready to let go of summer, and here are a few reasons why (sappy, poppy reasons for which you have no explanation, other than you can't get away with this shit any other time)
24. The Shining - Badly Drawn Boy 
...But if September must come, Let's watch the leaves flash a brilliant, glowing fade in the most beautiful display of perfection and poetry you've ever seen.. Much like this song.
25. A -Cartel 
And remember every foolish escapade and drunken evening along the way. I know.. Slip on that first hoodie and head down to the bar for one more...

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Tuesday, June 30, 2009

The Insubordinate Mixtape


Breaking the rules, Merman Style.

Don't even start with me this week. Chances are:
1) I won't have a single entertaining thing to say, and
2) I'll erroneously assume you knew about the past 3 days I've had and I'll go Battle Royal on your ass.
Have you ever had a week where you start off mischievously rebellious...and end up with a list of slipshod accomplishments and a docket that looks not unlike Mulberry's Mishap Manifesto? Not familiar with it? Oh, here!

In hindsight, maybe wearing kneepads ONCE during a volleyball season would have helped.
At least, that's what I thought when the blood was streaming down my shins.
Tuesday: It's not Sunday!
(and it's safe to consider that maybe, you should have gone into work 2 hours ago)
Apartment keys are FOR WANKERS.
Especially those who have gross negligence to the fact that you can't unlock a door in Astoria FROM NEW JERSEY.
The myth of the 8 hour work day:
Let us please make it 10! And not. complete. a. single. thing.
Dear client, please sign over 14 million on my faulty contract, cheers!
Your welcome, Madoff.
Hygiene says wha?
In light of my Tuesday/Sunday mix up, I successfully evaded 3 days worth of dreadfully cleansing showers.

Anyway, in the spirit of completely and ever so eloquently fucking up my own universe this week, I've decided to make a mixtape that also ignores most benchmarks for any sort of merit or logic. Well, except the music won't actually suck.
But Hayley! It's so good! What ever could be wrong with it?
  1. Using the most generic compilation artwork, ever.
  2. Mixing opposing genres indie, pop, hip hop, nerdcore. That's cool, right? Oh shut-up. It's not even graceful.
  3. 2 of the same artists back to back.
  4. The last song is actually just tacked on my mistake, and I don't even like it that much.
  5. ZERO transition. And too many songs.
  6. Repeat offenders/ obviously stolen songs from friends' playlists.
  7. Revealing that little/no effort went into song choice/order/blog as a whole this week!
....and can I JUST say, if I hear the phrase "Audio Confectionary Treat" ONE more time this week. WHO SAYS THAT?
Love,
Miffed' Merman.
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Friday, June 19, 2009

Post-Bonnum Depression

It's been a while since I've made a mix. And my ear pipes are kinda clogged up with weeks worth of hoarding harmonious tunes. After my last Dickens-worthy post, I couldn't take the brain activity anymore. I ducked out of NYC for a redneck tour of Ohio, Kentucky, West Virginia, and Tennesee. Which included Bonnaroo... (Life changing post on that to follow soon...) However, no theme today. Just some really, really good albums. I could think of something witty and cute to make you listen, but you really just owe it to yourself to listen to these albums.

This album is an NYC summer neatly packaged into cellophane wrapper. Just get up and dance your ass off. Or, for you rural folk with cars and such, pick a sunny Saturday afternoon and blast generously. I recommend Little Secrets & Moth's Wings & Sleepyhead

The Grizzly Bears - Veckatimest

This Album is absolutely phenomenal. Really, up and coming indie bands: just try a job in finance for now. You'll have better luck competing in that industry with Grizzly Bear's Veckatimest on the market. If you ever wondered what the Beach Boy's might sound like if they got their start in New York in 2009, listen to two weeks

The Dirty Projectors - Bitte Orca

Genre bending vocal virtuoso delight. Every song sounds like it could be from a completely different music universe. With, of course, their trademark of surprisingly pleasant trainwhistle harmonies and haunting strings mixed effortlessly with a little wishbone, and a little backbone. Go for Cannible Resource & Stillness is the move.

My God. It's just so good. Folk. Hot tub listening. The Second coming of Christ. Whatever. Just listen to the Trapeze Swinger & Love Vigilantes. Heart rate? Down. Heartstrings? Pulled.


... well it's not out yet. But you should surely education yourself by listening to their 2007 album, Reality Vs. The Optimist

I fully endorse Says my Doctor and Satellite to get you started. They've got a theatrical set of balls. And I like it.

The Decemberists gave me a gift that I don't think any other band has given me. True, honest to fucking blog goosebumps all over at a live show. While I was initially on the fence about the alternative cornerstone, their live performance of The Hazards of Love toe to tip at Bonnaroo was by far the best concert experience I've ever had. Some like moshing, some like to expand their minds in every way shape and form during a show, but I just want to music to move me. This show reminded me of the pure unadulteration joy of music, sans any other concert attractions. Listen to The Wanting comes in waves & isn't it a lovely night. Make sure you've got some good headphones, sit down at a nice spot in the park on an early warm evening, and enjoy.

Fanfarlo - Resevoir

If you like any of the previous music listed here, and you've yet to know Fanfarlo, don't worry. It's only a matter of time until they blow the folk up right in your face. This is the best British (I think?) album that I've heard in a long time. Check Harold T Wilkins, or how to wait a long time.
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Wednesday, May 20, 2009

The Merman Memorial Day Mix

So I wake up and it goes like this...5:30 am: Run. Shower. Breakfast. 11 minute walk to the station. 25 minutes N Train. 13 Minutes 1 train to W Houston Street. 2 minutes from the subway stop to the 4th floor.

Every morning I fashion my own personal assembly line, to most efficiently and effectively get my busted ass collected before a 10 hour work day. Most days I find that each new blip on my iPod makes the daily traipse a little easier. This week I hit shuffle on my library and collected the 1st 600 songs that came up, and in particular this week had as an 88mph Delorian effect over me. There I am on the N train... and like one of those really bad Soap Opera running-out-of-storylines-previous-life flashback episodes... I'm right back in Ohio, sitting on my riverbank on the last day of school. Or, driving around Huntington on a warm Sunday afternoon sunning off a hangover.

So if I wanted to go, where everyone knew my name... I guess these are the bastards I'd like to see there. And this mixtape goes to you. Memorial Day A la Mulberry.

So, you, little sex muffin, have been my best friend since our super awkward pre-pubescent break up in 2000. Every time Apple Shampoo graces my buds in the morning, I think of making Crillin42@hotmail.com and sitting on the picnic table talking about all the things guys and girls aren't supposed to talk about. I really kind of don't know how to handle being without my OpBrah, and wasting too much time with Wall bound LOL cats caught on camera ... and most of all: Christopher Lewis Meinheart.


3. Don't Stop Believin- Journey
Beside the fact that we have a borderline connubial relationship with one another, you really have been the best friend to me over the past year... and probably longer. Also, I don't think someone has ever physically made me pee my pants the way you do. Yeah. You make me pee myself. That's love, bitch. While this ditty might be the SJS FO' LIFE MAH FUCKA anthem... My heart exclusively longs for our debauched howling attempts at Steve Perry's highest. Can we please talk about Duck faces? And slapping each others faces off our faces?...and Ernest Mystic Tanning?

I think it's safe to safe I can use my favorite analogy for feelings when it comes to you. They're like Fish hooks. I pick one up, and they all come tumblin' out. We've had some Shitsqualls, but more precious moments of psuedopsychology. And for some reason you're stillllll nice to me. Strange. I guess two assholes really can get a long. And the fact that we have the music compatibility of Jesus Mary and Joseph doesn't hurt either. I miss kicking you out of my apartment....and drinking SoCo and lime out on my patio until 5am... while the Malloyopolis above you falls asleep on my couch at TEN PM.

Every time I hear this song I think of riding down 4th avenue in your car with the warm air flowing through my fingertips; trying so desperately to remember the night before. Very few housemate situations ever end nicely, but I think ours was a complete and total seraphic experience. I'll miss your stupid black velvet couch, complete with built in cassette player, every day. I might miss you as well, but I'm still trying to figure out if it's actually you, watching Weeds, wine on the back porch, or if it's just poor judgement from all the Speedy Dogs.


I think 'tis safe to safe that roughly 1/5th of the shuffle reminds me of you, but these seemed most fitting. That is only because I'm reserving the vast amounts of the Griffin McElroy Echo Reserve for another mixtape and another day. Oh, how I miss your creativity, completely unburdened by sanity... I only have one, long sentence for you, Sir. The combination of your existence, Mr. Minkser, Rockband marathons, coffee thievery, pitchers of rubbing alcohol and coke combined with bacchanalian interpretive dance (per Jesse Clark's not at all redundant boogie night convolution), Sorkin soaked TV marathons, Eternal Darkness, and the constant pursuit of Joystiq worthy adjectives... my summer, and subsequent sanity, was fully reinstated. I just want to hear you sing, "Bra-AAAAA-DLY WHIT-ford!" one more time.

14. Crossing Boundaries - NPR
For anyone who doesn't know, Mr. Minsker is, indeed, the Herman Merman to My Mulberry moniker. We also have a Bassit Hound, Sherman Merman, complete with a monocle and foppish demeanour. Intially you were my advtising antagonist, and then I realized you were the Yin to mah Yang. While I fluttered in an out of campaigns, you kept the internal team motivated. Salutations, comrade! Oh, and we both have approximately 95 year old souls. I could really go for one of those Sailor Jerry saturated NPR evenings overlooking the river...with our Rainmain Griffin. I even miss falling alseep mid-Casablanca, for the 3rd time in a row.

15. Mexico - Jump, Little Children
Sometimes there are friends in this world that just know how to make you feel 100% better. In your case it was quite simple; requiring only a smily face caesar salad and a spoon of DooDoo. Okay, maybe it was more of your kind temperament and complete judgement-free faith you have in me... but we'll go with the Doo Doo. While you did provide me with Jump's complete discography, every time I hear Mexico I think of you. My calm among many storms. With the exception of one of your sunny side up elbows, you are definitely the smartest, most level headed chef this side of the Mississippi.


While I'm sure Joe will undoubtedly dispute that Daft Punk should DEFINITELY remind me of him... all I can think of is us sitting in a Gulf Shores time share with a bottomless canteen of Hurricanes, and you singing both of these songs at the top of your lungs. For someone whom I've hung out with a handful of times in my life, you definitely have made your impression, and the extra 9.5 hours between us is visible. It doesn't even matter that I only saw you once every 6 months anyway. Out of all the friends I know are coming to New York soon, you, my friend, are the only one I'm willing to risk jail time for. Just sayin'....

18. Sleep - Copeland
My lonely fellow Copeland fan. Sean you are the epitome of a perfect gentleman. And your kind, by definition, is extinct in New York. No joke! I don't think you realize just how much I miss your laughter (I mean come on! Who wouldn't miss that Guffaw!?) and your kind spirit. You were definitely my spiritual guru of the house. There was nothing you weren't excited about, but you were especially fond Jesus and Marshall Football. No matter what, you had the words... and the tunes! So keep up the good work and come bring some of your rays of sunshine to the Big Apple.

19. No Sleep till Brooklyn - Beastie Boys
Oh how I miss your hemisphere of platinum blonde, pseudo boxing around on the Echo dance floor. Every time I hear this little jig it reminds me of roughly 2:30 am at Echo. Everyone drenched in sweat and old pitchers of rum. We hear the guitar riff, and from whatever conversation about grappling you where in, you burst out on the floor just in time for the first fist pumping chorus line. From that moment I knew we were destined to eat 4am pancake feasts and save evil black cats from any normal domestication.

20. We Like to Party - Venga Boys
Sorry Hilbill. Had to pick the stupid songs I could think of in your case. Mainly because whenever I hear them, they make me laugh and miss you like crazy. You used to get so very mad at me when I'd play the Venga boys tape over and over. And your little 12 yr old heart would swoon when you heard when you really love a woman. I always got on your ass about your music selection reflecting your romances... but these are TOTALLY and complete just you :). Also, honorable mention includes Michelle Branch - just see you (?) in honor of our equally embarrassing White Chicks obsession.

Oh Brother! There is nothing I can say about you that can be any more fitting than this song. I admired you so much for your jovial disposition and fearlessness to say anything. And the fact that no matter where I went in the Tri-state area EVERYONE knew who you were. Everyone! It was ridiculous. Gee Thanks! ...For making it impossible to be the coolest Keller in the family. Even though we didn't grow up in the same house, we've always had a secret evil sibling bond. Jamie and Hilary were the kind hearted sweeties, and you and I? Well... we were kind of assholes. But hey, the funny kind that get away with it! Love you brother.

23. Lets Make this moment a crime - The Format
It's kind of weird.... It's been more than 5 days since your last "You are Beautiful!" text... and I am noticeably disheveled. If there is one thing I know about your diaper wearin' whiskey lovin' ass, it's that what you play and what you listen to are entirely different. On stage, there you are with your sleeve of hardass tat's, screaming your balls off and throwing spit and sweat into the mosh pit; and then you hop in your Scion to the tender hearts of The Format or Glen Hansard. You're a big teddy bear trapped in a rocker's bod, aren'tcha dear? My memories of you and The Hyamp are eternally intertwined, so it only seams natural for me to think of you whenever I hear Hit The Lights, my all time favorite Huntington venue experience. Oh, and YOU are beautiful!

I think we both know why this is your song! After only having the Ting Tings for 6 months after the release date... I turned it in my the skin of my teeth. I miss you my fellow fearless female Snob rocker!


I know, I know! No Hilary Duff? Sorry. No matter how much I love you, I will NEVER, ever put her on my mixtapes! However, I was walking down St. Marks the other day, and I kid you not. What do I hear? MCFLY! I had a moment of silence for you. Throughout college, we WERE the odd couple. You were my best friend throughout missed morning shows, botched concert attempts, stupid boyfriends, and of course, spilled apple juice. Now... if I can just answer my phone for podcasts....

9th grade: ICQ: Eggy: Will you go to my senior prom with me? (Note: circa 2000) Winks182: Omg! Yes! ... and thus our friendship began. It's funny that I have more fond memories of St. Joe high school friends than I do my own Alma Mater. You were definitely one of the first to pave the way. i'll never forget the first time I came to your 4th of July party in 8th grade; you were the home skillet, Ryan was the homefry, and I was the Tater tot. I don't know if you remember, but this was the song playing when you picked me up for prom. It was the first time I remember liking Incubus, and I'm still kind of baffled and disturbed as to why I remember that. Or any of this for that matter. You are expressly, far and above, my favorite St. Joe jerkface.

Hey Aaron! A boy and a girl went to school. (Elbow jab.) Roughly 75% of the things that make us laugh are foreign concepts to anyone else. All I know is that you were my best girlfriend since 1st grade when we started raising hell at Haverhill United Methodist church. So, with that, I only have one thing to say: Let us hold a moment of silence for our fellow Grasshopper. He was such a good bug.


31. Where does the good go - tegan and sarah
1.HILDALGO! 2. MEL C FELL! 3. MEL C FELL! AHHH! I don't know if there will ever be a better match made in hell than us. Throughout school you were one of the 2% of girls that I actually liked, even when were were feuding about Riverdays sucker campaign tactics. Oh how I miss yelling during YMC at the top of my lungs at Ryan Holbrook with you. No matter how crazy you feel, and no matter how far away you are, I'm pretty sure you'll still be my favorite punk rockin' lady.

32. A milli - Lil Wayne
"Young Jeezy speaks to my soul." Really Alex? Really? I don't know how. And I don't exactly know why, but you have become of of those life-timer friends. Even though our musical tastes are monstrously opposite. And you make fun of my wrist slitting, patchouli/angst incensed club Echo. AND I've physically had to prevent you from cussing out all your girl friends. Sigh, what can I say, you're my little social butterfly. How can I not respect someone who takes impromptu weekend trips to Orlando with no agenda but to make as many friends as possible? That's my kinda man.


33. What's a girl to do? - Bat for Lashes
Albert. I'm sorry Chelsea Handler just isn't cutting it. Despite your scarily similar senses of humor, her show combined with repeated viewings of Juno can never replace you. ... And huffing my Strawberry daiquiri body spray is becoming quite disturbing. Question: Do you remember when we memorized our AIM pitch via jumping on hotel beds? Because I have yet to find a more invigorating memorization technique. But really? I miss your face. and your musk. And most of all, your MEOW.

34. Aliens Exist - Blink 182
Emiloo, Emili, Emilee, Emilow, Emlew! This has officially been the longest amount of time I have gone without smearing body lotion on your face or messing up your perfect tresses... and I'm pretty cheesed off about it. You are literally the only person whom I've peed my pants around. Oh. Wait, thats not true at all. However, you are the only person whom I have shared all of life's awkward ordeals with. And really bad Halloween costumes. And. Well. Pretty much everything. What the hell are you going to do anyway when you and Dodson go to the courthouse to get that marriage certificate and you realize I've already married us legally in the state of Vermont? And I'm not givin' us up lady!

35. Poker Face - Lady Gaga
Oh Benjy, why are you so beautiful? I think the first time I saw you in person my skin literally melted off my face. Whenever I grace all my gal pals with the presence of your pictures (which I frequently do to 1) Show off 2) well, just show off) we turn into the Tiger Beat OMGLIKEWHOA hot boy of the month fan club. But with all that aside, I'm so very glad it was you who I found on Craiglist instead of that med school Boston jerk who keeps killin' all those ladies. Shew! I'm glad I wasn't offering massages either. This song will forever remind me of your beautiful face, and maybe a little of that shuffle shuffle kick ball change, turn, step, arabesque!

You know Mark? The first time we held a conversation about music, I went home and quickly informed every single person I knew that I had, indeed, met my musical soul mate. The stars aligned. The birds sang. The angels literally came down from the heavens and kissed me on the face. And then you made me listen to Foxy Shazam. Really Mark?! The image was then shattered. However, you did make quite a theatrical impression on my CD library. And a huge dent in my popsicle supply. While we hardly speak, there is one thing I've been meaning to tell you, "RANCH, LISA!" Sigh.. I miss your precious soul!

From the moment I decided to invite myself to the single most important historical event in our generation's history over a game of beer pong, I knew we were destined to share half thought out amazing experiences together. I had the MOST amount of awesome going to D.C. with you, and sharing witness to the 1st annual midnight white house egghunt. Not to mention, hope coming out of one's ass should always be shared with a friend. If at one point in time we had been given physical proximity, based on your iPod repertoire intoxicant consumption preferences, I think there is definite potential for a great friendship.

Hacky Sack King? Video Game connoiseur? Pioneer of Purple Rain? Is there anything you can't do? For some reason, every single conversation ever brought up around Bobby Glasser has ld to his inexorable expertise on the subject. And I kind of like it! Bobby you will never know how much I miss your sassy pants dancing at Echo, or Bobby G. Passout 5000 after a night of too much hot tub and booze. So, please get out of Parkersburg for 2 seconds and come visit.

If someone would have told me that I moved 700 miles away from home to the biggest city in the world, only to find my personality equivalent, well, I wouldn't have believed them until I met you. And frankly? I'm really not sure if the world's ready for it. It is also invariably unlikely that I would get a long so well with said counterpart. I see a beautiful future filled with Soy Chai, rock concerts, and haphazardly offending Ms. Rathburn. Okay, maybe more premeditated not so much haphazard, but equally funny.
42. Barlow Girls - Superchic[k]
Because most of my adult life you have been 2 peas in a pod, I figured any music memory I have of one of you, will inadvertently remind me of the other. Laurie and Ash. Stinky and Smelly. I don't know what I would do at family functions without you! Probably not listen to nearly as much cool music. Probably more Rusted Root and Phish, wouldn't you agree? All I know is that my mood unquestionably improves around you two, so I think it's time for MBT to have a brief stint in NYC.

When I'm feeling particularly nostalgic, my thoughts always return to you. And for the first time in, oh, 8 years I can actually listen to San Dimas without a visceral pain in my heart. With only a handful of trips under our belt, throughout countless break ups & phone calls, and roughly 1,200 miles between us, I'm still 75%-82% fond of you. Hey, in the future let's have more mornings laying around listening to Zolof and the rock n rock destroyer and less 2 year stretches of absence. Okay? Sassafras!



Now... if all of you were curious... YES. I miss you.
Love,
Mulberry



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