Springles

Ah....Finally NYC. Wind that doesn't cut through to the bone; just gusts of comfortable that's cool around the edges. At last, a sky that more closely resembles bottoms swimming pools than slabs of concrete sidewalk. That's right, folks. It's fucking spring. Bring it on, pollen! I will sniff you up and stuff you in my nose, put you in my lungs and cough you out ANYDAY before I go back to snowy booby traps thinly disguised as my morning commute.

This weekend was A++, with a sticker in the corner, in bright red ink with exclamation points. And if the sweet, warm breeze and a blanket of sun weren't enough to warm my heart, the Hayley Maker came to town. You guessed it. Momma Keller visited for the first time in a year and we basked in all spring's glory.

Today's mixtape is especially dedicated to New York City spring chickies. And by chickies, I mean everyone. We just appreciate it so. much. When the first warm weekend comes people just go bananas and start lying on the sidewalks and shit. Seriously, we'll hop right up on that dumpster lid and have lunch if that means we get to sit in the sun. Everyone becomes ridiculous amounts of excited and let it all hang out. Then it's like "Shit, I can't wear these hot pants to work!? What was I thinking?" and they tone it down just enough to not offend building security or subway passengers. But that's it! That's all you're gettin'! Finally, we'll squeeze, yes squeeze, into Central Park, perch upon a hot rock and rock it like a fucking lizard (Said it, don't care).

So listen to the movements of NYC spring in the mix: Excitement. Whoa, too much excitement; put those boobs away. Bustin' out the capris. Jesus Christ. Putting the capris back in the closet. Nostalgia. Bonfires. And a sunset you swear you'd never see again. Sweet city springtime.

Cheers,

Merman

Tiger Year

Nothing looks appetizing at 7:30am, not even those battery acid pineapples stained from it's blueberry neighbors. I pushed my 'tropical fruit delight' around with my plastic airport fork, listening to CNN have a meltdown about the stock market hitting an all-time low. My dad, mom, and sister were at the diner table behind me; Trish, sitting with me, bitched at the cashier for stealing her favorite pen, or something like that. I threw away my uneaten mush (I think they were supposed to be grapes?) and nervously smirked as we embraced for one last picture before I went through security, and fly into my new life. Mom teared up, to which I rolled my eyes, and sister squealed and waved excitedly until I rolled my carry on down the ramp in my yellow easter dress and newly purchased 'city' brown boots. I think I was numb to how much I'd miss them, either that, or so pleased to be leaving my orginal 'Tri-State Area' that I couldn't feel anything else. After a 2 hour plane ride and a traumatizing cab ride through Queens, I was here. 2068 23rd street, New Life, New York, 11105.

Yes, before you ask, I certainly feel like it has been a year. And yes, I love it, and yes, I'm glad I did it, and no, I don't know if it's going to be forever, and no, it wasn't easy, and yes, it was all worth it. Shew. Good. I'm glad we've covered those pre-depth awkward questions. But, the question is, what really happened this year? I won't bore you with my butchered attempts to describe it, so I'll show you.

But first! Please, like I wouldn't make a mixtape especially for this occassion. If you don't think I wouldn't carefully craft a mixtape that reflected my emotions and experiences of this year with seamless transition, then I just don't think we're on the same level of mutual respect.

So, put this on and listen from the first track to the last, scroll down, then I think you'll have a taste of a Mulberry New York Year.

The Comets Happened

Bonnaroo Happened.

Spencer Happened.

A weekend in Jersey Shore happened, YIKES!

Playing my flute after a 4 year hiatus happened.

Going back home with new friends happened.

Loving my old and new home at the same time happened...too

Helping my Marshall Girls and speaking at the conference that gave me my job happened.

The Inexplicable happened.

My childhood best friends tied the knot happened.

The Family Christmas card happened.

And who could forget? Sorry boys... happened.

No, I didn't slip into Williamsburg and return with a fanny pack, tattoos of cupcakes, and an apathy to corporate America. Though, I did drink outta cups (you're welcome). Some things just couldn't be captured in the click of a camera, so this i what you get, folks. I wish I got paid to push myself and say something all encompassing, pithy and cute. But the truth is, the rain today isn't doing any favors for my prose, and frankly I'm too preoccupied about surviving a zombie attack, anyway. So there you have it, a tip of my iceberg that is New York...

If you must know about the crack diving, pantless subway rides, or harlem speakeasys, I've also taken up answering fun questions here

Cheers,

Merman

You probly think this poem is about you! Don't you?

Well... this is a first for me. I have written a poem. Yes, I know. I was surprised too. Yes, I've written a poem that I'll share with you. I might even suggest that it is not bad.

It's shocking for me too. I'm sorry, I just had to add these. There not much funny beyond this point. Just this once, I'm going to nix the mix and get a little naked for you. Not really, you know, just in the 'Tada! Here are some deep emotions!" kind of way. This winter has been a time of getting it all out in that cold and snowy (and far too windy) air and feeling better for it. Hey, it might even be a good guessing game for you, see if you're in it!

Cheers,

Merman

To Those Who Have Scorned Me

To you, my lost lamb
who saw something I didn’t
who knew the way
You, who saw that light ahead
A stern shepherd grasping an impervious cane
You, a stupid, stupid little lost lamb.

And to you, my emergency flare,
I saw Jesus in your eyes and in your bowed head
Jesus in your porch swing
in your open hand and guitar
in your pitcher of rum and rolled paper cigarettes
after midnight
under your shirt
in the small of my back
in the haze and headache
and hungover communion

I couldn’t tell who needed saving.

And to you, Mixtape Fantastic
quid pro quo pianos
electronics, quick quips
You, so quick to change the track
kick the beat

I kept up with your steps

I sweat, laughed, recited
memorized the steps
the turns and tempo changes

I shared your morning coffee

And to you, the Charleston South Carolina Cook,
You should know better, master chef,
than to twist your knife
so carelessly through bone
Especially when you’ve invited
them to dinner.

And to future scorners,
I will not believe
You
I will not dance to your drum
I will not believe your silence
Or your naked gospel

Times of Wine and Roses - The Duke Ellington Orchestra

The feeling is Vague, the Mixtape is not

All I have to say is that it's been a bitchin' month for music. Put this in your pipe and smoke it:

1. July Flame - Laura Veirs
2. We are happy plants - Apollo
3. I shall cross this river - the black atlantic
4. Let go - Jj
5. Lewis Takes Action - Owen Pallet
6. Tane Mahuta - The Ruby Suns
7. In steps - Letting up despite Great Faults
8. Youthless - MillionYoung
9. Games you can win - RjD2 (Feat. Kenna)
10. Island, IS - Volcano Choir (sound familiar?)
11. King of Spain - The Tallest Man on Earth
12. In the Sun - She & Him

This is my favorite:

I suggest you listen to this whole album sitting at the foot of your bed, lights dimmed with the biggest ridiculous headphones you can find. I guess it's one part broken social scene, mayhaps 2 parts, and genuine without the 'oh isn't everything so precious' quirks of the former band. I really am quite too tired to do it justice, so give it a go, folks.

Cheers,

Merman

No pants day in New York

I get on the subway tonight to go to an organ concert, and what do I find?

And then in Union square....

Not kidding, folks. Today was no pants on the subway day. Why? That's a damn good question. Everyone I asked refused to answer the question. "Well the department stores are so hot, you've got to even it out". "Because my snuggie didn't come with pants!" And so on. If it weren't for a 100 year old organ at St. Thomas calling my name, well, I probably wouldn't have taken my pants off anyway. But, you've got options like that in this city. You've got options for nudity and duck-duck-goose in your underpants in the snow with 300 strangers. I like those options. At any rate... this is a good album:

Throughout my 2009 posts, I've notice I left a quite a good album consistently off of my radar. Yes, yes. You know them, you probably went to their sets in NYC, and they are very much a part of why 2009 music was so great. Miike Snow has make an album that blends artistic sound engineering and genuine music ability. So, I shall start off my 2010 with their whole album. It was one of my biggest pleasant surprises. My suggestion is Silvia, just sexy.

Cheers,

Merman

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...

1. Modern Leper

2. Keep Yourself Warm

3. Behave

Cheers,

Merman

'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:

1. Low Rising
2. Feeling the Pull
3. In These Arms

Cheers,

Merman